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Lot 1096 PIQUE PANTS
こんにちは 名古屋店 コジャです。
先ずは2023/10/16(月)の営業に関してお知らせです。
. . .
いつもWAREHOUSEをご利用頂きありがとうございます。
誠に勝手では御座いますが、 10/16(月)は社員研修に伴いWAREHOUSE直営店は臨時休業とさせて頂きます。
ご来店を予定されていたお客様には大変申し訳御座いませんが何卒御理解下さいます様、お願い申し上げます。
翌日10/17(火)は全店通常通り営業を致しますので皆様の御来店をお待ちしております。 ※阪急メンズ東京店/札幌店は10/16(月)も通常通り営業致します。
. . .
では本日の商品案内を。
数年ぶりの再��リースとなるカラーパンツが届きましたよ。
WAREHOUSE & CO. Lot 1096 PIQUE PANTS \18.700-(with tax) ※ONE WASHは1.100-UP
「TAKE IVY」なパンツ、 Lot 1096"PIQUE PANTS"が数年ぶりに再リリース。
1960年代東海岸の学生に愛されたテーパードシルエットのベッドフォードクロス(通称ピケ)を再現。
力織機で織った耳つきの生地は独特の弾力があります。
硫化染料による染色は穿き込み、洗うたびに強いアタリが生まれます。
先ずは[OFF]が届きました。 ※BLACKは後日入荷予定。
【春夏に履く白】 と 【秋冬に履く白】。 季節で異なった演出をしてくれますよねぇ。
落ち着いた雰囲気を出してくれて大人な感じは秋冬ならでは。
でも白パンって背伸びするイメージ。 なんてことはありませんよ。
ジーパン、チノパンetc…。そこから履き換えるだけOK。
179cm,69kg SIZE:34(ONE WASH)
カッチリしないと。 といったイメージを持たれる方もいらっしゃるかもしれませんが、 お持ちのTシャツ、スウェットやネルシャツなどなど、 ラフにでもカジュアルにでも楽しめます。
Gジャンの下にシャツを着てタイドアップ。 なんてのも良いなぁ。
白パン、 是非楽しんで下さーいっ。
では失礼致します。
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☞ [営業時間のお知らせ]
平素よりウエアハウス直営店をご利用頂き有難う御座います。 ウエアハウス直営店では営業を下記の通り変更しております。
《2023.10.15.現在の営業時間》
◎東京店 【営業時間:平日 12時~19時 土日祝 12時~19時】無休 ◎阪急メンズ東京店 【営業時間:平日 12時~20時 土日祝 11時~20時】無休 ◎名古屋店【営業時間: 平日 12時~19時 土日祝 12時~19時】水曜定休 ◎大阪店 【営業時間: 平日 12時~19時 土日祝 12時~19時】 無休 ◎福岡店 【営業時間: 平日 12時~19時 土日祝 12時~19時】 無休 ◎札幌店 【営業時間: 11時~20時】 木曜定休
※誠に勝手では御座いますが、 10/16(月)は社員研修に伴いWAREHOUSE直営店は臨時休業とさせて頂きます。
ご来店を予定されていたお客様には大変申し訳御座いませんが何卒御理解下さいます様、お願い申し上げます。
翌日10/17(火)は全店通常通り営業を致しますので皆様の御来店をお待ちしております。 ※阪急メンズ東京店/札幌店は10/16(月)も通常通り営業致します。
今後の営業時間等の変更につきましては改めて当ブログにてお知らせ致します。 お客様におかれましては��不便をお掛けいたしますが御ご理解の程、宜しくお願い申し上げます。
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☞ 『WAREHOUSE直営店の LINE公式アカウント開設』
WAREHOUSE&CO.直営店からのお得な情報や、エリア限定のクーポンなどを配布しています。
LINE公式アカウント開設にあたり、 2019年3月26日(火)以降、提供しておりましたスマートフォンアプリはご利用できなくなっております。 お手数をおかけしますが、今後はLINEアカウントのご利用をお願いします。
ご利用されるエリアのアカウントを「友だち登録」して下さい。 ※WAREHOUSE名古屋店をご利用頂いているお客様は【WAREHOUSE EAST】をご登録下さい。
※直営店のご利用がなければ【WESTエリア】をご登録下さい。
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☞[リペアに関して]
弊社直営店で行っておりますジーンズ等のリペアの受付を休止させて頂いております。 ※ご郵送に関しても同様に休止させて頂いております。再開の日程は未定です。
ご迷惑お掛け致しますが、ご理解下さいます様お願い致します。 ※弊社製品であればボトムスの裾上げは無料にてお受けしております。お預かり期間は各店舗により異なりますのでお問合せ下さい。
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☞WAREHOUSE公式インスタグラム
☞WAREHOUSE経年変化研究室
☞“Warehousestaff”でTwitterもしております。
ーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーー
WAREHOUSE名古屋店
〒460-0011 愛知県名古屋市中区大須3-13-18
TEL:052-261-7889
《2023.10.15.現在の営業時間》
【営業時間:平日 12時~19時、土日祝 12時~19時】水曜定休
#warehouse#ウエアハウス#warehouseco#ウエアハウス名古屋店#warehousecompany#アメカジ#amekaji#ametora#americancasual#americantrad#warehousenagoya#warehouse名古屋店#1096#ピケパンツ#pique pants#pique#ivy#mens fashion#fashion#mens snap#mens wear#mens clothing#mens style
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“Believe the briefing’s down that way, LT.” Soap says, walking alongside the Lieutenant as they make their way to meet the rest of the task force, when he notices the older man starts turning down the wrong hallway.
“Small detour.” Ghost replies in his deep Manchester accent, continuing on his way, uncaring whether the Sergeant follows him or not.
“Where we goin’?” The Scot turns to quickly follow him, curiosity piqued, knowing Ghost is nearly always religiously early to briefings. He has however noticed him appearing nearer to the start time recently now that he thinks about it, something that wouldn’t mean anything should it have been anyone else, but with Ghost, these minuscule changes never came without reason.
“Jus’ have to scratch an itch.” Ghost utters, barely glancing sideways to see the bewildered expression on Soap’s face.
It’s not long before Soap recognizes that they’re on their way to passing by the med bay, confusion worsening when he notices that the Lieutenant keeps fidgeting with something in his pocket. Something that’s making a - crinkling noise? Just as they reach the doors, he watches him pull something out- almost doing a double take at the sight.
“What the fuck are ye doin’ with a bunch o’ lollies?” The Scot asks, befuddled.
“Jus’ shut up and watch, Johnny.” Ghost quickly murmurs, pushing through the doors and walking in a confidently past the nurses station without a care, as though he does this every day. Maybe he does-
Soap tentatively follows behind him at a slower pace, unsure of what he’s walking towards exactly, but utterly intrigued nonetheless. As he turns around a corner, he sees Ghost has just walked up to you, one of the bonnie medics he’s seen around.
“Morning.” You smile softly at him, warmth apparent in your gaze towards the tall man. “Was wondering if you were coming or not.”
“Pick a colour.” The Lieutenant practically grunts at you, holding up a handful of colourful lollipops towards you in his large gloved hand, ignoring your teasing.
“Think I’ll do red. Matches my nails.” You say, leaning towards him to reach a hand out and pluck said lolly from his grasp. Both men watch as you remove the wrapper, pink tongue peeking out from your mouth to wet your plush lower lip. Soap feels the wires in his brain click as well as his pants suddenly tighten when he sees how you wrap your lips around the sucker, closing your eyes and letting out a small, satisfied hum as you taste the candy and pull it out with a ‘plop’.
“Thank you, Ghost.” You blink up at him sweetly, sticking your tongue out to lick at the lollipop this time before sealing it back in the wetness of your mouth, eyes locked with the man before you the whole time.
The first time you met the Lieutenant was while treating him in this very med bay. Already enamoured with you to begin with, the deal had been sealed when you had pulled out a few lollies from your coats pocket, offering them to him. He had come back to see you the next day, his own stash of candy in hand, saying something about how it was only fair that the doctors got sweets every once in a while as well. ‘Every once in a while’ turned out to be every single morning you worked, truly nothing more than an excuse to see you.
And if you looked up at him so sweetly as you licked at the treat, his blood never not rushing down south in the process, well then that was just an added bonus wasn’t it?
Readjusting his tactical pants and licking his own lips, Johnny had never been so grateful to Ghost before.
#call of duty#call of duty fanfic#call of duty fic#simon riley#simon ghost riley#cod fanfic#ghost x reader#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#cod simon riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon fluff#simon ghost riley x you#cod simon ghost riley#call of duty fluff#cod fluff#cod x reader#johnny soap mactavish
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Sukuna/toji suddenly having baby fever (and ofc there's a breeding kink as well) x wife reader. That's it 😔
BABYMAKIN' ★
છ feat. ઉ — s. ryōmen, t. fushiguro (separate)
cw. fem! reader, wife! reader, going in raw, heavy brēeding kink, pregnancy mentions, breath play, nipple play, degredation, edging, tummy bulge, mdni.
★ SUKUNA RYŌMEN.
with sukuna— it’s rare for him to experience something as such as baby fever. it’d come out of nowhere to him. he’s never once thought about it until he’s been with you. lewd thoughts starts to purge his mind at the mere image of your tummy being all plump and swollen by his doing. it starts off with real subtle things. it’d be a random evening where you’re doing something to occupy yourself until he approaches you. all bulky arms of his wrap around you and you let off a playful gasp.
“hi sukuna,” you hum, in the midst of turning to face him but he stops you. immediately, his head buries itself into the inner depths of his neck. sharp fangs delicately pierce into your skin before giving it a soft suck. glossy lips of yours smother together, questioning why he’s so clingy today all of a sudden— not that you necessarily minded. “mhm, you’re handsy today. did something happen? should i be scared?”
“fret not,” is all he says in a rough low voice, calloused fingertips continue to roam further down against your backside. slowly, he’s pulling off the pathetic fabric of your sundress, a tongue going over his lip like how an animal prepares to feast. “i’d like to give you something, princess.”
with a soft smile squeezing against your lips, you gasp once you feel a knee of his gently shove between your thighs. “oh,” you murmur, yet it’s in the very form of a piqued question. “what do you wanna give me, ‘kuna?”
“a child,” he purrs, no hesitation whatsoever with his direct answer. “i want to give my future queen a child.”
and he’s very intent on it,
sukuna with baby fever is an entire different version of himself. he hates it, he loathes how he feels so needy.
but he can’t help it,
the moment you comply, he’s dragging you into a hot, boiling kiss. warm heavy breaths fan against your own and his hands rummage all over your body.
two big hands of his is grabbing against your breasts, thumbs of his stroking against your sensitive perky nipples. a raw groan exits from his lips before he pulls away to avert his attention towards your soft mounds. “these’ll be swollen f’r me soon,” he utters, trailing his head down. he lies you flat down on your back, prettily sprawled all out for him. rich velvet hungry eyes stare into you before he then lolls his long demon tongue against your tits. you mewl out a soft gasp, the feeling alone immediately feels tender. “i need them to be swollen.”
there was an almost tremor in his voice as he spoke, you could tell how adamant he was on this entire stance. sukuna’s fangs grow a bit more playful, nipping near your dampened breasts, sucking deeply around the throbbing nubs. he does it in such a slow way too, purposely. he imagines he was drinking something from out of it. the tent in his pants only rises before he props himself up right between your legs. “ugh,” he growls, a long fingernail of his pricking against your panties. “why must you ever wear such useless things, they only get in the way.”
“just take them off, baby,” you tease at him, spreading your legs out a bit further and his shoulders lower.
with a menacing glower, he snarls. “nevermind, they can stay,” and you intently gaze—sukuna’s fingers lazily pries your panties toward the side before getting a closer look. he groans again, feeling the aching pang surround within his cock. “are you sure you’ll let me have my way with you, little one?” and his voice falters into a dangerous low, “my goal’s to give you at least three.”
“. . . just three?” and there’s a jeering tone running against your words. sukuna springs out his hard dick before fisting it a few solid pumps. he grunts, inching it towards your sopping cunt whilst he waits for you to continue speaking. “why not five, ‘kuna? the more the better.”
“woman,” he sucks his teeth, the urge to breed you growing ten times stronger.
hell, you were a force to be reckoned with. your constant teasing only has him more feral than he already was. the fat peeling tip of his shaft slides against your entrance and he’s grinning ardently at the squelches your pussy greets him with. “tch. don’t tempt me,” and as his words grow darker, you moan—feeling the plumpness of his dick rub between your slick. “let’s do seven.”
a taunting smile purses against your lips before you raise a brow, sliding your ankle down his shoulder. you then hum. “seven babies?”
he starts to lower himself inside. it’s a bit compacted at first, a concise tightness before the head of his dick cleaves through your entrance. you’re already soddening him up, feeling him just about to bottom out before he growls. “hah, maybe even nine. who knows, all i know—my love, is that i wanna give you a baby. you’d be such a good mother anyway, beautiful.”
you moan, feeling your cunt already start to constrict around his length. sukuna was so big, he knew it and you knew it too. huge breeder balls, his sack droops a bit as he starts up a pace, barely giving you any time to adjust. “s-sukuna,” you stutter, locking your legs around his waist. his thickness ruts all into you—mashing, churning up your insides like butter.
two hands of his go back towards your bouncing tits, a lengthy nail of his delicately tracing against the skin surrounding it. he just imagines your breasts to be all swollen, filled all up. oh, just the thought alone makes his mouth water. he shifts his weight further against you, directly on top of you now. beloved mating press—he grabs your chin, peeling your bottom lip down before groaning. “look at me, pretty,” and everything feels so raw. sukuna’s thrusts were forevermore immaculate. it’s with the way you’re hearing the sloppy sloshes squeal out of your pussy each millisecond. he’s so deep that you can feel the curve of his dick stretch all throughout you. sukuna leans in for a kiss, a hand trailing down your tummy. “you feel me?” he says between parching hot kisses. “mhm, ‘s where ‘m gonna plant it.”
he rubs a hand against your womb, a bit of pressure going down the more he presses against it and you gasp. the stretch, your stomach was in knots, his tip was so wide—using you as if your cunt was the epitome of the word elastic.
“kiss me more, ‘kuna,” you babble, trembly legs snaking around his slim waist. he was close, you knew the moment you started to hear his breathing pick up. it’s raspy, he darkly snickers. a hand of his cupping your chin, squeezing your spit-glossed lips together before vermillion red eyes takes in every sight of you. “want a kiss.”
“my wife’s greedy as always,” he purrs, warm breath brushing against your lips. his cock’s delving repeatedly against that spot, rummaging through every orifice before your thighs twitch against the curse’s skin. a thumb of his grazes near your lip before he snarls. “very well. stick out your tongue. roll it out just for me.”
without question, you loll out your pink tongue for him, tilting your head back before sukuna leans in to suck on it. whilst he’s still pounding you deep, striking sharp hips sending you to straight oblivion—he gifts you a sloppy kiss. you moan right into his mouth, slinging both arms around his spacious shoulders.
“hnnn,” he growls, occasionally having a hand wrap around your throat. sukuna nips at your tongue enthusiastically, feeling the strands of saliva tangle between each other. his pace starts to pick up and he groans. after what feels like forever though—he suddenly gets more jagged with his hits. after a long while though, sukuna speedily slows down. welts and welts of erotic pressure surfs through the undergoing of his thighs before a single final thrust introduces his nightly anticipated cum.
it comes out in slow listless spurts, sukuna’s eyes were half lidded and he groans. you could almost make out a whine from him as he seeps his fangs deep into your neck. a tongue of his traces against your skin as he’s cascading such thick amounts into your womb. “kunaaa,” you’d huff out, locking both limp legs around his torso. you were throbbing, everything just feels so warm inside. feverish breaths aerate near the outer lobe of your ear before he bites at it — doing anything to try and distract himself from the sensitive state he was in. “f-fuck, ‘s much.”
“keep it a-all in,” he groans, burying his face into the crook of your neck. it’s continuing to trickle into your gummy walls, you’re soaking in it all while your ankle runs down the red lines of his back. “ugh,” he growls, velvety gobbets of seed dripping into your clamped pussy. it’s so sticky, the material sticks against his thighs the moment he tries to pry himself out of you. sukuna looks down with a hungry gaze, a hand smearing against your now filthy cunt. leaning down to bring a kiss towards the hood of your clit, he licks against the new profound mess. “you took all of it like a good queen,” he whirrs in a drowsy tone, tongue lapping against his own mess. he doesn’t want it to go to waste—so he uses his tongue to poke some amounts of it back in. sukuna doesn’t even flinch at the thought of him tasting himself.
so lewd,
a gasp drags out of his lips and he grows quiet. with a scarred hand still pressing over your tummy, it steadily resumes to fill you up. you’re so stuffed that you almost drool. sukuna’s falling more in love each second he spends inside of you. “my my,” was the only words he could mutter out while smudging a clammy thumb against your swollen clit. he’s all up close—he can’t help but bring yet another soft kiss to it, watching your body twitch in lubricious harmony as a response. “she’s so pretty when she’s filled to the fuckin’ brim,” he whispers, his tone becoming a bit softer. claret-shot irises gaze into your cunt and the way it’s spitting out the remnants of his cum, he groans at how messy the entire scene was. “all mine,” and he presents your slit with a final kiss, a teasing mwah before his eyes dart back up at you. “not done with you yet though, princess. still got so much more cum—er, love to give. heh.”
★ TOJI FUSHIGURO.
“i’m gonna fuckin’ get ya pregnant.”
six words,
six simple words and he was determined on carrying out work what he murmured to you.
with toji— he doesn’t necessarily care for the baby part, it’s more with the breeding aspect.
if it’s anything in the world that’s a favorite activity of toji’s, it’s to watch his own sloppy cum ooze out of your cunt.
he craves it, toji presses a wide palm over your mouth so he could listen to the mess—so you could listen to it with him. with baby fever, it’s usually an everyday thing for toji. to keep it short, he’s an ass guy. he can’t help but shift his eyes on your curves, your ass. the way it moves, all he can even think about is having you bent over with that pretty iconic arch of yours. he groans, feeling his boner only grow the more he pictures it.
spank after spank, kissing your ass with mean hits until it’s all sore. he always leaves you full with a whopping dump of his seed too— a cute pout tugs against his lips the minute he feels it pouring out of you. he wants you to savor it, savor every last drop.
“t- toji, hngh oh fuckk,” you whine out, trying to keep up with his merciless sawing strokes. he’s just drilling into you repeatedly. you’re on all fours, clinging onto the sheets with a sweet whine leaving your lips every few seconds. he’s so thick, your mouth breaks open each time you feel his cock jackhammer between your folds. you’re still fully clothed— he couldn’t wait as per usual. he had a long tiring day at work, far too long. toji came home annoyed, laying on your ass for comfort before he’d randomly start to ramble about how cute you’d look with a belly bump. of course—you tease him about it, and now you’re like this. “s’ full, ‘s gonna spill out, toji.”
a hand of his smacks against your ass again. “baby,” and you jolt forward, your head smushing against the fabric of the satiny covered pillow. “if it spills out, i’ll just lick it back in,” and a dark cackle shortly follows. you shouldn’t be surprised, it’s toji. he was an all around freak when it came to being underneath the crimson red sheets. the angle, it’s so filthy. your ass was pulled all the way up against him and you’re taking every inch, every single inch. you gasp, feeling his angry tip swipe against your g-spot and it snatches out a whine from you. “yeah? jus’ like that baby girl, fuck back against me. gimme that pretty ass.”
toji can’t help but be handsy. sharp swats of his hand goes against your skin— and in the process, you arch forward.
he’s buried deep, you feel the mouthwatering outline of his dick carve its way inside before you whine out. “ah- ah- ah, ‘m gonna cum again, toji,” and his hips were raunchily ruthless.
so fucking sharp—you gasp, feeling him drag a thumb down towards your untouched neglected hole to play with it just because. you bite your lip, feeling the center of his thumb nudge against it. you’re puckering in response and he snickers. “t- toji, tojiiii.”
“careful. keep moanin’ my name like that ‘n i’m gonna give you fuckin’ twins.” he grunts, swollen balls hitting back and forth against you. you’re so dizzy.
the room had a sweet mixture of sweat and pure intimacy. a rough hand of his trails down your spine, feeling towards your stomach. you’re facing the opposite direction. the serrated ricocheting bounces of your own ass against him rings throughout your ears uninterruptedly. through his darkened peripherals, he catches you trying to play with yourself, you could have sworn he wasn’t looking—but he was. “the fuck,” he grouses, staring at your jerking backside with leafy eyes. a mean swat makes your hand loosen and he grabs your wrist instead, pinning it against your back. “oh girl, we don’t do that. we don’t touch toji’s favorite pussy,” and he presses himself all the way in, a hand wrapping around your throat before licking the right side of your neck. “by we i mean you, got some nerve touchin’ what’s mine,” and he drowns out your repetitive moans with his loud raspy voice—pounding such delicious angles into you with his fat girth. “especially when she’s this fuckin’ wet f'r me, fuck.”
you have a bit of brat remaining in you, as you’re reaching your incoming high with toji shortly following—you stammer out a sweet, “but ‘s my pussy. i can touch it if i wanna.”
“oh yeah?” his voice boom a degrading low. he’s so stuffed inside that you were sure you were gonna break. the crownhead of his cock was so extensive and vast that you were sure your cunt was gonna split open. after how many times you took your husband, he still always felt so fucking big. toji suddenly stops drilling into your sopping cunt. immensely, a frown goes against your lips. a sly expression marinates against his features before he pulls all the way out. your body twitches, ass still up in the air before his fingers brush against your neck. “well excuse me then. you’re totally right,” and he’s just teasing you now. as he spoke to you, he’s almost dumbing you down with each syllable that spews out of his lips. condescending, a perfect way to describe his delivery. “silly me. had no idea, this pussy’s yours? touch it then, i dare ya. give it a good rub while y’er at it too, gimme a show. i’ll wait.”
your bottom lip quivers— fuck, you adored his dirty talk more than anything at times but you were so close. your orgasm was right there, you could taste it lingering on your tastebuds. sweetened with pure awaiting nirvana. toji hums, an eyebrow raising once you grow limp, not having that sudden energy anymore. you’re now embarrassingly awaiting for his next move.
“aww, no back talk now? what happened ‘ta wifey wantin’ to touch her pussy? she’s waitin’ for you babygirl, don’t be rude. have some class.”
you just knew he was smirking behind you,
with a cute attempt for him to finish, you give your ass a sweet wriggle, hoping he’d go back inside. with the feeling of now being clamped around nothing anymore—it only made your pout grow wider. “t- tojiii,” and you’re whining now, so desperate. being edged like this, you started to see all kinds of colorful splotches. a brief sting throbs within your cold needy cunt before you gasp, feeling him smear his leaky tip against your folds. “finish fucking me, ‘toji.”
“nah baby, finish fuckin’ yourself,” he coos, tracing the soft curvature outline of your thighs. he gives it a firm squeeze, groaning at how your body was just perfect. he then spreads two fingers to ghost against your wet folds. a whimper drags out your lips before he gives it a rude spank. “she’s fuckin’ drenched. ‘s a privilege to play with her though, you know that,” and he sneers, popping his now soaked fingers into his mouth to get a taste. lowering his tone in a more soft approach, he hums. “but, if ya really want me to finish, all ya gotta do is say please, baby girl.”
with drooling lips seeping into the material of the creamy bed sheets, you moan at the rubbing he’s making with his tip against your slit. oh, you were dripping with wetness. you’re trying to swallow him back in but he prevents it, briefly pulling in only to pull back out. the same dark snickers could be heard from behind you— toji’s infamous laugh, it sends anyone horrifying chills but with you it only makes you throb.
“p-please,” you spit out, each second you spent being edged, the more you were starting to lose it. you feel him lightly yoke your hair back before a hand trails down your back. “pretty please. finish fuckin’ me a-and give me a baby.”
“and?”
you pout, he was literally impossible,
with your bottom lip spasming underneath the top one, you’re still happily arched for him before speaking in a grumpy pouty tone. “i-i’m sorry for touching your pussy, toji.”
“mhm,” he swipes a tongue against his scar. doing so makes it twinge against his lips before his fat tip runs right between your slick entrance again. “atta fuckin’ girl. ‘s okay baby, glad we understand each other, heh,” and finally after what seemed like centuries— he’s making his way back in. you mewl out a shrilling moan, feeling the familiar barreling of his length before not even a few inches in and toji cums. “shitttt.” and it comes out in ivory clods.
your ass ruts against him, feeling the warmth pool into you before you finish not even seconds after. ecstasy runs through your veins and you’re shaking on him— relishing in the ropes of seed he’s presenting to your greedy pussy.
he hisses for a second, feeling your cunt’s grip tighten around him as he’s still pouring globs into you. it’s so thick too, when toji finishes . . it’s a lot,
he grows quiet, spreading your ass to get a good view of the mess he’s making. a cunning grin goes on his lips as he’s grabbing ahold of his length, smearing it all on your entrance before finally pulling out.
“goddamn baby,” he grunts, witnessing how it’s just emitting down your slit in masses. it feels gooey, you’re just laying there with your ass perked all up, head pressed against the furniture before he swipes a thumb against the wads of hot cum. “ooh, looks like your pussy’s sayin’ thank you. know that’s right,” and he turns you around, pulling you into a deep kiss. with a tongue licking against his scar, you’re on the verge of catching your own slow languid breaths. whilst tongues tangle amongst each other in harmony and sync, toji runs a hand down your body. he feels you shudder from his touch before a hand sneakily slithers its way between your thighs. you moan in your husband’s mouth, feeling him shove two fingers inside to stop it from spilling. after a few long seconds, he pulls away—tangles of spit departing before he hums at you cockily. “good girl, now we wait for that cute bump.”
#★vegasbaby.#toji smut#sukuna smut#toji x reader#sukuna x reader#toji fushiguro smut#toji fushiguro x reader#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#toji x you#sukuna ryomen smut#sukuna ryomen x reader#fushiguro toji x reader#toji x reader smut#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x reader smut#jjk fic#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujustsu kaisen x reader#anime smut#female reader#cw sex mention#jjk drabbles#jjk imagines
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Nerd!Seungcheol
— Synopsis: After finding Nerdy!Seungcheol crying in the corner of the locker room because his girlfriend broke up with him to be with a jock after joining in the cheerleading team, you decide to help him and do everything he wished his ex-girlfriend had done. — WC: 6.6k — WARNINGS: smut, fluff, crack, some bickering—slight enemies2lovers plot, he cries, seungcheol is not a virgin (but his ex never gave him blowjob), mentions of alcohol (beer), mentions of glow-up, reader uses short dress and mentions short skirt, oral (f. & m. receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, cock riding, answering phone in the middle of the sex—voyeur?, hickeys, body fluids (cum) and cringey mentions of hands mimics (fingering/blowjob).
As you head to the dressing room to grab your things after your Friday lonely practice, the usual silence from the night is broken by a faint, muffled sound. You pause, listening intently. It’s a sniffling noise, followed by broken pants. Curiosity piqued, you follow the sound deeper into the lockers, your footsteps echoing softly against the tiled floor.
Turning the corner, you find Seungcheol, huddled in a corner, hugging his knees to his chest.
“Seungcheol? What are you doing here?” you ask, a smirk tugging at your lips. Teasing him is practically second nature to you.
His head snaps up, eyes wide and red-rimmed. “What do you want?” he snaps back, wiping his nose with the sleeve of his sweatshirt.
You place a hand on your waist, raising an eyebrow. “I think the better question is, why are you in the women’s locker room?”
His eyes widen in realization. “Seriously?” he mutters, scrambling to his feet, the embarrassment clear on his tear-streaked face.
You roll your eyes and turn to leave.
You wait just outside, leaning against the wall with your phone, scrolling through messages, pretending not to notice the state he’s in.
A few moments later, Seungcheol emerges, his face still blotchy from crying but now trying to pull himself together. He dries his tears on his sweatshirt, still hiccuping softly.
“Spill it,” you say, not looking up from your phone. “What happened?”
He hesitates, but he knows that on Monday, everyone will know about it. “Minji broke up with me,” he admits, his voice cracking. “She’s dating Jaehyun from the basketball team now.”
It’s a stereotype for a reason. “And you didn’t see that coming?”
Seungcheol’s face crumples again, and you immediately regret your harsh words.
But you can't help it! Jaehyun is the quintessential jock, the kind of guy who always ends up dating cheerleaders. It’s almost cliché.
Seungcheol nods continuing, looking down at his feet. “I knew she wanted more popularity, but I didn’t think she’d...”
“Look, Seungcheol, she’s not worth it if she’s willing to dump you for some jock just to boost her social status.” You shrug as you walk toward the hallway exit.
He looks up at you, eyes filled with confusion. “Why are you being nice to me?”
You shrug, slipping your phone into your bag. “I can’t let you mope around like this. It’s pathetic.”
He manages a weak smile at that. “Thanks, I guess.”
“Come on, let’s get out of here. I’ll walk you back to your dorm,” you say, starting to walk again.
You leave Seungcheol at his dorm, giving him a final glance. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you need to toughen up.”
The weekend passes in a blur of volleyball practice and social events. You don’t see Seungcheol at all, not even a glimpse. Sunday night, you find yourself at a party, scanning the crowded room. There she is—Minji, with Jaehyun, surrounded by people. They look like the picture-perfect couple, a stark contrast to the image of Seungcheol crying in the women’s locker room just two nights ago.
After the party, you head to the convenience store near the university dorms to grab a late-night snack before heading to bed. As you wander down the ramen aisle, you almost bump into someone. You look up and see Seungcheol, his face so fucking swollen and hidden under a hood.
“What the fuck happened to your face?” you whisper, startled, clutching your snacks.
He scoffs, “What do you think? Been crying all weekend.”
You furrow your brows. “Seriously? You’ve been crying the whole time?”
“What do you think?” he repeats, more bitterly this time, grabbing a pack of ramen.
You both head to the cashier, the cashier glancing curiously at Seungcheol's disheveled appearance. As you walk towards the dorm buildings, it strikes you how funny you must look together—your party dress barely covering your ass, and his baggy 'I'm not going to see anyone I know' clothes.
“Man, if you’re going to show up looking like this tomorrow, you might as well ask to leave college for real,” you say, shaking your head.
He sighs, his voice weary. “I’m not going to drop out because of her.”
“Then stop crying,” you reply, exasperated.
He snaps at you, “What do you even know about it?”
You pause in your tracks and give him a hard stare. “While you were crying your eyes out all weekend, she was giving Jaehyun head in his car, like, minutes ago,” you say, your face contorting with disgust at the memory.
His eyes open wide. “She gave him head?! What a whore. She never even gave me a blowjob.” he mutters, more to himself than to you.
You raise an eyebrow, munching on your snack. “She never did? Seriously?”
He looks even more pissed, fists clenching at his sides. “I swear! And I always—never mind…”
“Dude, you were crying over someone who’s not even worth it,” you say, shaking your head. “She’s obviously just using Jaehyun for popularity. She’s not worth your tears.”
He kicks a pebble on the sidewalk, the anger beaming off him. “I thought she loved me.”
“Pfft! Clearly, she didn't,” you reply, shrugging. “She’s a social climber. She’ll do whatever it takes to get to the top.”
He looks at you, grabbing a handful of your snacks “You’re right. I’m done with her.” he mutters, chewing monstrously. Seungcheol frowns, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. “How did you even know about that?”
“I was at the party,” you admit with a shrug.
He glances at you, taking in your outfit and the faint smell of feminine perfume mixed with alcohol. “Now it makes sense why you smell like that and why you’re dressed like this at 11 p.m. on a Sunday,” He glances down, taking in your party dress that’s riding high.
He recalls the moment in the convenience store when you bent down to grab some Takis from the bottom shelf, your ass almost completely exposed. He had glanced, unfortunately and quickly moved to stand behind you, rolling his eyes, blocking the cashier's view, who was wide-eyed and staring.
“Man, I gotta tell you about all the crap I had to put up with.” he begins.
You listen attentively, craving some juicy gossip to cap off your weekend. He needed to vent, and you were going to end the day with some top-tier gossip. A win-win situation.
At his dorm, Seungcheol sits on his bed, and you are plopping down on the chair, eager to hear the tea.
“Can you believe she made me cancel our anniversary dinner because she wanted to go to some stupid party instead?” he says, shaking his head.
“No way!” you exclaim, licking Takis powder off your fingers, your eyes wide with interest.
He nods, exasperated. “Yeah, and she didn’t even tell me until the last minute. I had this whole thing planned, and she just ditched me.”
“Unbelievable,” you mutter, munching on another Takis.
“And she always made me do her assignments. I spent countless nights writing essays for her while she was out partying.”
“She did that?” you ask, genuinely shocked.
“Yep,” he sighs, moving restlessly on his bed. “And get this—she once made me wait for three hours outside her dorm because she was ‘getting ready.’ When she finally came out, she said she didn’t feel like going out anymore.”
“That’s insane!” you gasp, shaking your head in disbelief. “She’s the worst.”
“She really is,” he agrees. “And she never wanted to do anything I liked. It was always about her and what she wanted.”
You laugh, shaking your head. “That’s because you’re too nice, Seungcheol. If it were me, I’d have shown up the next day in a mini skirt like this—” You make a gesture with your fingers, indicating something tiny, “—just to rub it in her face.”
He snorts, amused by the thought. “Yeah, well, I guess it’s different for a guy.”
“Maybe,” you reply, pausing as an idea strikes you. “Wait, do you have contact lenses? Or maybe a clipper?”
He looks confused. “What? Why?”
You step closer, gently moving his hair out of his forehead. “Because if you’re going to move on, you need a new look. Let’s start with this mess of hair.”
He looks at you, confused. “You really think that’ll help?”
“Bro, trust me,” you say, determined.
You walk around his room, rummaging through his things, looking for the clipper. Seungcheol sits on his bed, looking at you… Nervously.
As you plug in the clipper, the buzzing sound fills the room. Seungcheol’s eyes widen in alarm. “You’re not going to make me bald, are you?”
You smirk, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t you remember who did the girls’ undercuts below their ponytails for last semester's game?”
His eyes light up in recognition. “That was you?”
You walk back smugly, opening your arms. “Yep, that was all me.”
As you begin cutting his hair, he starts talking again. “You know, she once told me that my glasses made me look like a nerd, and she hated it when I wore them in public.”
You roll your eyes. “Ya! That’s ridiculous. Your glasses suit you. But we can always get you contacts if you want a change.”
You skillfully give him an undercut, trimming his hair and revealing a fresh look. He looks at himself in the mirror, his forehead and thick eyebrows finally getting the attention they deserve. You help him with the contacts, and before you leave his dorm, you give him a final piece of advice.
“No sweaters,” you say firmly.
The next day, as you finish getting ready in your dorm, you hear a knock on the door. Opening it, you find Seungcheol standing there, looking surprisingly handsome in his new look.
“Look at you!” you exclaim, giving him a knowing smile and nodding for him to enter. As you finish getting ready, you ask, “What are you doing here?”
He shuffles his feet, looking a bit shy. “I don’t know, just felt weird going alone.” “You look healthy,” he says, his eyes taking in your appearance.
“Yeah, I took a bath,” you reply, deadpan. “You should try it sometime.”
He chuckles, the nervousness fading a bit.
Together, you head towards the university building. As you walk beside him, you notice people glancing at him, some even doing double-takes. You stand proudly, shoulders squared, almost waving like a beauty queen.
As you and Seungcheol make your way down the hallway, you spot Minji in the middle of the corridor, surrounded by a group of people. Your eyes dart between her, Seungcheol, and Jaehyun, and you think to yourself that this moment is straight out of a movie. You almost wish you had popcorn to complete the scene.
You and Seungcheol walk closer, and you can see Minji's eyes light up as she spots him. She opens her mouth, probably ready to deliver some dramatic line or apology.
But Seungcheol, simply ignores her and doesn’t give her the satisfaction of a glance. His chest puffed out slightly.
You take a fine distance from them, your jaw practically dropping in disbelief. “I can’t believe you actually did that, did you really just ignore her?” you ask, laughing.
Despite his impressive new look, Seungcheol didn’t end up mingling with the jock crowd as you might have expected.
Instead, during recess, you spotted him from afar, sitting with his book club friends. The contrast was cute—here he was, looking like he could easily fit in with the jocks, but he chose to hang out with his old crew, surrounded by books and enthusiastic chat. He stayed true to his roots, hanging out with the people who truly mattered to him
He had the whole package—stylish haircut, fresh look, and yet, he was still the same Seungcheol. Still maintaining his original traits and habits.
The bell rings, signaling the end of classes, and you head towards the dorms, looking forward to a bit of downtime. Suddenly, you hear someone calling after you.
“Hey! Wait up!”
You turn to see Seungcheol jogging towards you, his new look making him stand out even more than before. He’s out of breath but manages a grin. “How can I show my appreciation for what you did?”
You wave him off with a smile. “You don’t need to do anything.”
He pouts, looking genuinely disappointed. “Come on, please!”
You roll your eyes, teasingly. “Calm down, nerd! Hmm, maybe just a beer or something?”
His face brightens at the suggestion. “Beer? That sounds perfect!”
You chuckle, shaking your head as you both start walking together.
As you and Seungcheol sit at a small corner table in the campus bar, nursing your beers, he takes a swig and shakes his head in disbelief.
“I can’t believe I’m drinking on a Monday,” he says, looking at his beer as if it might somehow magically make the week less mundane.
You laugh, leaning back in your chair. “Sometimes it feels like drinking just becomes a part of the routine. It’s like college fucks you up so much that you need these little escapes to keep your sanity.”
Seungcheol nods in agreement, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Yeah, it’s kind of messed up how we end up just normalizing this stuff.”
You both sip in comfortable silence for a moment before he glances at his phone, scrolling through a chat. “Oh, hey, look at this,” he says.
You raise an eyebrow. “Oh? What’s that?”
He shows you a photo on his phone. It’s from the party you were at on Sunday—Minji inside Jaehyun’s car, Minji’s head is down, clearly giving him a blowjob, and Jaehyun’s face is smug. Your face scrunches up in disgust as you look at it.
“Ugh, yeah, that’s what I saw,” you say, cringing. “I didn’t want to think about it again.”
Seungcheol sighs heavily. “It’s just... seeing that, after everything that happened, it’s like she’s moved on and I’m left here...”
You take a deep breath, considering his frustration. “Yeah, I get it. It’s a shitty situation.”
He looks at you. “You know, I never really got why she never... I mean, she never did that for me. Not that I’m complaining or anything.”
You blink, taken aback by his confession. “She has never given you a blowjob? You were serious then?”
Seungcheol nods, his cheeks flushing slightly. “Yeah, and now seeing her do it for Jaehyun... it just feels like a slap in the face.”
You sip your beer, thinking it over. The whole situation has him worked up, and you can’t help but feel a bit sympathetic.
“Damn, that’s rough. I can see why you’d be so pissed.”
“it’s like, she was so willing to do it with Jaehyun, but never with me,” he says, clearly frustrated.
“Well, now you know,” you say, a bit smugly. “She was obviously saving that for Jaehyun.”
He looks down at his beer, indeed annoyed. “Yeah, she was a piece of work. I guess I should have seen it coming.”
“Well, we could always find a way to have some fun and blow off steam. I’m sure there’s a way to make you forget about Minji’s bullshit.”
Seungcheol’s eyes narrow with curiosity. “Like what?”
“I’m sure we could figure something out. Maybe even something you’ve been wanting for a while.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Oh really? And what’s that?”
You lean in even closer, your voice barely a whisper. “Let’s just say, I know a thing or two about making someone forget their ex and feel a lot better. Are you interested?”
You smirk, is he acting, or he's that bad at catching hints?
He looks at you, catching the hint. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
You grin, leaning in a bit closer. “Depends on what you think I’m saying.”
He blushes slightly, his eyes meeting yours. “Careful, Y/N. You’re making it sound like you’re fishing for something specific.”
“Maybe I am. Just putting it out there.” you shrug.
“Are you serious? Stop playin' with me.”
“I'm dead serious.”
He looks at you, contemplating the offer. “You know what? Let’s do it.”
You can't quite pinpoint if it's the alcohol working its magic, loosening up inhibitions, or if it’s just the chemistry between you and Seungcheol, but his attempts at flirting are hitting all the right notes. There’s a certain charm to the way he’s leaning closer, trying to gauge your reactions with every word he says.
He takes a sip of his beer, his eyes meeting yours. “You know,” he starts, his voice a bit slurred, “I’ve always admired how you can just say whatever you want.”
You laugh softly, leaning in to match his tone. “Oh really? And what else do you admire?”
He smiles, his cheeks slightly flushed. “Well, for starters, your confidence. And the way you’re not afraid to call me out. It’s actually pretty sexy.”
The alcohol seems to be giving him a boldness you’ve never seen before. He reaches out, brushing a strand of hair away from your face a bit clumsy.
“You’re drunk,” you tease, though you can’t deny the flutter of excitement his touch brings.
“Maybe,” he admits, his gaze lingering on your lips. “But I’m not too drunk to know when something feels right.”
“Seungcheol,” you say softly, trying to keep things light but feeling a pull towards him, “are you sure you want to go down this road?”
He nods, his eyes never leaving yours. “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.”
[...]
The scent of your dorm—so unmistakably you—fills Seungcheol's senses, making him harder than ever. As he stands before you, your naked form on your knees, your hand between your legs touching your throbbing clit, and the sight of you looking up at him with hunger in your eyes, it’s enough to make his head spin.
You stroke his cock with one hand, licking your lips like you’re about to devour him.
His cheeks are flushed, maybe from the alcohol, maybe from the very embarrassment of the situation. He bites his bottom lip, eyes wide with anticipation, his cock starting to ache with need. The handjob you’re giving him is good, but it’s not nearly enough.
“Fuck, you’re so hard,” you murmur, your voice dripping with lust. You can feel his cock twitching in your hand, the head sticky with precum.
He lets out a shaky breath, his eyes glued to the sight of your hand moving up and down his shaft.
You lean in, your tongue flicking out to taste the precum at the tip of his cock. The salty, slightly bitter taste coats your tongue, and you hum appreciatively, savoring the flavor. Seungcheol's breath hitches, his hips jerking forward involuntarily.
“Oh, fuck!” he groans, his hands clenching into fists at his sides.
You smile up at him, loving his reaction. You want this to be memorable, to engrave this moment into his mind permanently. You give the head of his cock a few teasing licks before enveloping your lips around it.
“Holy shit, Y/N!” he groans, his voice ragged. As you slide your mouth further down, taking him deeper, his body curls inward, every muscle tensing. It’s like you’re sucking every ounce of energy from him, and he can barely stand it. Your mouth is so wet, so warm, and you look so devoted, so gorgeous.
You look up at him through your lashes, seeing the absolute ecstasy on his face. You’re dedicated, giving all of yourself to make this perfect for him. You bob your head, sucking him deeper, your cheeks hollowing with the effort. Your tongue works along his length, swirling around the tip before you take him in again.
Seungcheol’s efforts to hold back his moans crumble. “Fuck, Y/N, that feels so good,” he whimpers, his voice loaded with desperation. He grips your hair, not to control but to anchor himself, as his arms on the bed threaten to give out.
You hum around his cock, the vibrations making him shudder. You suck harder, your hand stroking the base of his shaft in beat with your mouth. You can feel him throbbing against your tongue, his neediness evident in every spasm and moan.
His moans become louder, more ragged, filling the room. The sound of his pleasure fuels your horniness, and you touch yourself more frantically, your fingers rubbing your clit in time with the movements of your mouth. You’re giving him everything, and you love the way he’s falling apart above you.
“Y/N, I’m so close,” he chokes out whiny. “I can’t… I can’t hold it…”
You look up at him, and suck him even harder, your mouth sliding up and down his length faster. You want to push him over the edge, to give him the orgasm he so desperately needs. Your hand strokes his shaft with more speed, your mouth working tirelessly.
You can't believe that Minji never gave Seungcheol a blowjob. Just the sight of his cock is almost enough to make you cum. With your hand still slick from touching yourself, you grab the base of his shaft and take him as deep as you can, sinking him down your throat.
You hold him there for some seconds, feeling the tears from your gag reflex forming. When you pull back, you see him nearly losing his balance.
Determined to make this unforgettable, you’re willing to suck his very soul out if it means you get to see his face as he cums and hear those incredible moans from him.
Seungcheol’s body tenses, his muscles locking up as the pleasure becomes too much to bear. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” he cries out.
Seungcheol’s entire body convulses, his hips jerking uncontrollably as you milk every drop from him. His eyes roll back, and he lets out a guttural moan, the sound of someone utterly lost in pleasure. You keep sucking him gently, drawing out his orgasm, until he’s left trembling and spent.
When you finally release him, Seungcheol collapses onto the bed, needing to lay down to recover.
You laugh softly, brushing your fingers through his hair, feeling a rush of pride at the look of utter bliss on his face. His eyes flutter open, and he smiles so wide it makes your heart swell.
He sits up slightly, his hand wrapping around your throat. He grips you gently, his thumb brushing over your skin. You’re caught off guard when he leans in, not giving you just a peck, but sliding his tongue into your mouth. You thought he might find it weird after cumming in your mouth, but he does it without hesitation, moaning at the taste.
You can feel your pussy immediately dripping onto the sheets. His kiss is hungry, filled with gratitude and lingering fascination, and you kiss him back just as fervently, your hands tangling in his hair.
When you finally pull away, you both are breathing heavily.
“Damn, Y/N,” he bites his bottom lip. “You’ve ruined me for anyone else.”
Seungcheol's eyes roam over your body, and you can see the determination in his gaze. He wants to pay you back, to show you what he can do. Gently, he lifts you onto the bed, laying you down. He positions himself between your legs, his stomach pressed against the mattress. You hear him hiss slightly as his sensitive dick makes contact with the sheets, but his focus remains on you.
“I’ve been studying up on this, Y/N,” he says with a proud smile, like he’s presenting a perfect exam result. “Time to show you what I’ve learned.”
He starts by kissing your inner thighs, his lips soft and teasing against your skin. You shiver, your breath hitching in tension. When his mouth finally reaches your pussy, he doesn't hesitate. His tongue darts out, tasting you for the first time, and he lets out a low, appreciative hum.
“You taste so good,” he says, almost to himself, before diving in.
He licks a long, slow stripe up your slit, his tongue parting your folds and flicking over your clit. You moan, your hips twitching involuntarily. Seungcheol’s hands grip your thighs, holding you firmly in place as he starts to work his tongue with more ambition.
His tongue encircles your clit, teasing and tormenting, before he sucks it into his mouth, creating a delicious pressure that makes you gasp. He alternates between sucking and licking, his mouth hot and insistent.
You can hear the wet sounds of his mouth on you, mingling with your moans, and it’s driving you even more soaked.
“Oh god, Seungcheol, that feels so good,” you moan, your fingers tangling in his hair, urging him on. “You’re so good at this, nerd.” you smile looking at him.
He looks up at you eyes light up at the praise. “You like that?” he asks, his voice muffled against your pussy.
“Yes, yes, don’t stop,” you plead.
He continues to be concentrated on you, his eyes sharp and focused, studying every reaction. His tongue flicks over your clit, and your hips buck against his mouth. He smiles against you, clearly pleased with your response.
Seungcheol grins and shifts slightly, bringing his fingers into play. He teases your entrance with one finger before slowly pushing it inside you, curling it just right to hit that sweet spot—finding it embarrassingly fast. You shout, your back arching off the bed.
“Fuck, Seungcheol, just like that,” you pant, your hips grinding against his face.
He adds a second finger, pumping them in and out of you while his mouth continues its assault on your clit. The combination is mind-blowing, and you can feel yourself hurtling towards the edge. His fingers twist and curl inside you, like they're calling you, pressing against your sweet spot, and your moans become louder, more desperate.
“You’re so wet,” he murmurs.. “I can feel you clenching around my fingers.”
“Don’t stop, please, don’t stop,” you beg, your thighs squeezing around his head.
You feel a bit guilty for trapping him like this, but Seungcheol looks delighted, his thick eyebrows furrowing in concentration as he reads every reaction from your body.
He flicks his tongue over your clit in a rapid, persistent move, his fingers moving in perfect rhythm. The wet sounds of his fingers sliding in and out of you, combined with the slick noises from his mouth, are almost obscene, but they only heighten your arousal.
“You’re gonna make me cum,” you gasp, your voice breaking. “Don’t stop, Seungcheol, please.”
He doesn’t let up, his tongue and fingers working you with a preciseness that makes your head spin. You can feel the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter in your belly, ready to snap.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck, I’m cumming!” you cry out, your body shuddering violently as the orgasm rips through you.
Seungcheol keeps going, drawing out your orgasm, his fingers curling and his tongue flicking relentlessly. Your moans are loud and broken, your hips grinding against his face as you moan vulgarly, your chest rising as you soak his mouth and face.
Your body convulses, your thighs squeezing him even tighter, and you scream his name, your voice echoing in the room. He continues to lick and finger you through it, prolonging your orgasm until you’re left shaking and breathless.
Finally, he pulls back, his face shining with your arousal, a pleased smile on his lips. “How was that?”
Your body is still trembling from the intensity of your orgasm, and all you can manage is a breathless moan, your hands smudging your face as you try to collect yourself. Seungcheol laughs softly at your reaction.
“I don’t know if I can ride you right now,” you admit, your voice shaking. “I’m still trembling.”
He smirks, a naughty glint in his eyes. “Who said anything about you riding me? I can fuck you just as good, just lay back and let me take care of you.”
The promise in his words makes you clench, and you nod, eager to feel him inside you. He positions himself between your legs, his cock hard and ready. As he lines himself up with your entrance, you can’t help but gasp at the sight of his size.
When he finally pushes inside you, the stretch is both breathless and blissful. His cock fills you completely, the sensation intensified by how wet you are. Your body welcomes him, and he slides in easily, the friction making you moan loudly.
“Oh god, Seungcheol, just like that!” you breathe out, your hands gripping his shoulders.
He lowers his head, his lips brushing against your neck as he begins to move. His kisses are surprisingly sweet for the roughness of his thrusts, and you find the contrast and incredibly hot.
Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him deeper, and he moans, his thrusts becoming more urgent. The bed creaks beneath you, the sound of skin against skin filling the room. Your hands tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, needing more and more.
“Fuck me like you mean it.” you grit through your teeth.
Seungcheol’s eyes blacken, and he grips your hips, his thrusts becoming harder, deeper. You cry out, your head falling back against the pillow, your body jiggling with each strong movement.
“I’m not stopping until you’re screaming my name,” he promises, and you know he means it.
His thrusts become relentless, each one hitting that perfect spot inside you, your eyes watering. Your moans turn into cries, your mind going blank with pleasure. You can feel your orgasm approaching, and you cling to him, needing him closer.
“Seungcheol, I’m gonna—”
The sudden sound of Seungcheol’s phone ringing startles both of you. “Fuck... no,” he mutters, pulling out of you reluctantly. You almost swallow a sob, your orgasm fading away.
"Answer it," you tell him, your voice steady despite your frustration.
He looks at the caller ID, his face contorting in disgust. "Minji," he says, showing the screen to you. You wave your hand, signaling for him to answer. He does, putting the call on speaker. The fact that he's not hiding it, that he wants you to hear, that he doesn't have a problem with it, is unexpectedly hot.
“Seungcheol?” You roll your eyes at her voice.
“Yeah?” he replies, his tone short and uninterested.
“I... I wanted to talk. Can we meet up?” she asks, her voice faltering.
You sit up silently, your mind racing. Seungcheol answers her shortly, clearly wanting to hang up. As he talks, you get an idea. You crawl over to him, your eyes locked on his as you straddle his lap, your breasts pressing against his face.
He looks up at you, confused.
“What are you doing?” he whispers, his breath hitching.
“Seungcheol, are you listening to me?” Minji’s voice is impatient, and he can't answer.
You just smile, grabbing his cock and sliding it back inside you as his face contorts in silence, jaw slack as he looks inside your eyes. He bites his lip, trying to stifle a moan as you begin to move, slowly at first, then faster, circling your hips around him.
“Seungcheol? Are you there?” She asks, sounding more desperate now.
He tries to answer, but you start moving, slowly at first, then picking up the pace.
“Yeah, I’m here,” he replies, his voice strained. He places a hand on your hip, trying to steady you as you ride him.
“What are you doing?” her voice cuts through the tension, suspicion clear.
You moan slyly, loudly, not even needing to force it. “Oh, Seungcheol,” you purr, the sound sending a cold lick down his spine. He can't help but moan too, his resolve breaking.
Minji’s voice rises in panic. “Seungcheol, what’s going on? Who’s there with you?”
He can’t help but moan too, gripping your hips tighter. “Don’t talk to me anymore, Minji,” he says, his voice strained with pleasure.
“What the hell is happening? Who is that?!” She's furious.
Seungcheol’s hands grip your hips, his body shuddering with each thrust. “Y/N... I can’t...”
“Just a little more,” you whisper, leaning down to kiss his neck. “Let her hear how good I make you feel.”
He groans, unable to hold back any longer. “Minji, I’m fucking done with you,” he says, his voice shaking. “Don’t call me again!”
You moan again, louder this time, and Seungcheol echoes your sound, his head falling back.
The call disconnects abruptly, but you don’t stop.
You ride him harder, feeling him throb inside you, his body tensing as he reaches his peak.
“Y/N, I’m gonna—” he starts, but you cut him off with a kiss, swallowing his moans as he comes, his release sending you over the edge as well.
Seungcheol throws the phone aside with a decisive flick of his wrist, his focus entirely on you now—not that he stopped, his mind was imploring for you every second.
He grips your hips firmly, handling you on his lap with a possessive, almost primal passion, like you’re a fucking doll. The strength of his arms moving you on his lap, makes you gasp, and you abruptly pull away from the kiss, your hand flying to your mouth in a futile attempt to suppress your scream.
It doesn’t work.
The sound that escapes you is raw and unfiltered—a high-pitched scream that echoes off the walls of the dorm room. You’re cumming all over his cock, your cum spilling over onto his balls and pelvis, the wetness spreading in a deliciously messy explosion.
Seungcheol’s grip tightens, his breathing ragged as he feels the lock of your orgasm. He’s fighting his own demons to keep his eyes open, the pleasure so harsh that it’s almost too much to endure. His eyes are locked on yours, and you see the struggle written all over his face.
“Fuck, Y/N,” he groans, his voice wasted with overstimulation. His moves become more desperate, desperate to feel every inch of you.
Your body shakes uncontrollably, every muscle tensed as you fight to keep your eyes open, to stay grounded in the moment. You feel the room spinning, the pleasure so intense that it’s almost blinding. Your hands clutch at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as you struggle to stay upright.
You collapse against Seungcheol. He pulls you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you with a protective, almost desperate grip. Despite his own wavering strength, his desire to hold and shield you is real, overshadowing any fatigue he might be feeling.
With the last of your strength, you gently pull his cock out of you, your movements sluggish. You remain close, still wrapped around him, feeling the warmth and softness of his body against yours. The sensation of his cock slipping free leaves a trail of dampness between you, your orgasms dripping onto his pelvis and the sheets beneath you.
Seungcheol shudders as he feels the wetness spreading across his skin. The soaked feeling on his pelvis, combined with the aftershocks of your orgasm, makes him groan softly. His hands are still firmly clasped around you, his chest rising and falling with each breath.
“Fuck,” he mutters, shaking his head. “I can’t believe we just did that while Minji was on the phone.”
You chuckle softly, your exhaustion making your laugh feel weak but genuine.
Seungcheol lets out a rueful laugh. “I was trying so hard to keep it together while she was talking, and here you are, riding me like there’s no tomorrow.”
You raise an eyebrow playfully. “So, what did she hear exactly? Did she get the full experience or just a taste?”
Seungcheol grins, his cheeks flushing a bit. “Oh, she heard more than a taste. I was trying to get her off the line quickly, but with you going at it like that, I think she caught on pretty fast. She definitely knew something was up.”
“And now she’s probably going to think you’re a total jerk for just hanging up on her like that.”
“To be honest, I was so caught up in how good you were making me feel that I couldn’t even process what she was saying. All I could think about was you.”
The next morning is a whirlwind of frantic activity and poorly disguised attempts to cover up the previous night's larks. As you glance in the mirror, you notice the indicative signs of sex: red, blossoming hickeys on your neck that stubbornly refuse to be concealed. You grab your concealer and try your best to dab and blend, but the more you work, the more obvious it seems.
Seungcheol, on the other hand, is in an equally frantic state. He’s darting around his dorm room, desperately scrubbing away any remaining proof of the night before. He’s juggling a toothbrush in his mouth while trying to hide the hickeys with his hoodie. He eventually settles on a high-collared shirt that looks formal and slightly out of place for a morning class, but it gets the job done.
You rush out of your dorm, barely managing to grab your things before heading to your first class. The entire way there, you catch glimpses of yourself in shop windows and mirrors, each time cringing at how you might still look too happy, too satisfied.
Seungcheol is nearly out of breath by the time he arrives at the hallways, his face flushed—not entirely from exertion, you suspect.
“Did you manage to get rid of all the hickeys?” Seungcheol whispers walking on your side suddenly, as he tries to adjust his collar without drawing too much attention.
“Not even close,” you reply with a wry smile. “I’m basically wearing a turtleneck now, but it’s not foolproof.”
He laughs, a bit too loudly given the circumstances. “Well, at least we look like we’re going somewhere fancy. If anyone asks, just say it’s a new fashion statement.”
You snicker, shaking your head. “I don’t think that’s going to work. I’m just hoping people don’t look too closely.”
As you both ascend the stairs to your respective classes, the early morning hustle is almost forgotten when Seungcheol suddenly grabs your wrist, his eyes darting around to ensure no one is watching.
The empty stairwell is the perfect backdrop for his next move.
Before you can react, Seungcheol leans in and steals a quick, tender peck from your lips. The unexpected kiss surprises you, and a smile instantly lights up your face. You respond with another, slightly longer kiss.
You pull back slightly, looking at him with a playful glint in your eye. “So, what about tonight?” you ask slyly.
Seungcheol’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Huh?”
You make a theatrical gesture with your hand, tracing a path up and down to your cheek, poking your cheek with your tongue, mimicking the motion of sucking him off. Your naughty movement is clear and provocative.
Seungcheol's face flushes instantly, his eyes widening as he processes your meaning.
He bites his lip, his eyes locking onto yours with a glint of playful defiance. With a teasing smirk, he lifts his middle fingers, licking them exaggeratedly before curling them inward, making the motion unmistakably obscene.
“Something like this?” he asks, his voice sultry, his eyes never leaving yours. “Think you can handle it tonight?”
You can't help but be taken aback by Seungcheol's bold gesture, your jaw falling slack in surprise.
“Meet me at the storage room,” you murmur, urgent. “You’re going to finger me there.”
Seungcheol’s eyes widen. “The storage room?” he repeats, his voice a quiet, thrilled whisper, his breath catching slightly.
He thinks then gives you a quick, eager nod, the hint of a smile playing at his lips.
“Sure thing,” he continues. “Can’t wait.”
A birthday one-shot to my cutie pie hahaha 29 years old—I'm crying n'shit. 😭🥺❤️
#seventeen reactions#seventeen headcanons#seventeen imagines#seventeen scenarios#seventeen smut#seventeen x reader#svt smut#seventeen#seventeen fluff#svt imagines#seventeen fanfic#svt fanfic#svt x reader#seungcheol smut#seungcheol imagines#seungcheol fanfic#seungcheol x reader#seungcheol x you#seungcheol#scoups smut#scoups x reader#scoups x you#scoups x y/n#choi seungcheol#seventeen seungcheol#seungcheol fluff#scoups#choi seungcheol fluff#choi seungcheol imagines
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Business Talk || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
Summary: You listening to Rafe and Barry talk business on his yacht. (s3 ep6 inspired)
Warnings: swearing, suggestive, idk if theres anything else lmk
Word count: 1,323
A/n: another canon fic because im obsessed with writing these 😖 pls send me canon fic requests 🙏🙏
MASTERLIST
Divider by @yoonitos
"Oh my God!" Barry yells out as you hastily pull away from Rafe, who groans in frustration, "Fuck, I thought we had more time." His head drops, leaning on your bare stomach, and you can't help but giggle as you reach over for your cover-up. Rafe sighs heavily, adjusting his pants with an annoyed expression.
"Damn, Rafe. Come on, Country Club," Barry calls out, his voice echoing through the boat as he makes his way upstairs to the top deck. "Bro, how are you gonna have this and not even tell me!" When he reaches the final step, he notices you lounging on one of the sofas, looking perfectly composed. You give him a warm smile. "Hey, Barry," you greet him politely.
"Princess," he says with a playful bow, making you giggle at his exaggerated behavior. He then turns back to Rafe, who is still frowning. "You got a whole damn YMCA up on this bitch, dude," Barry exclaims, his eyes darting around the luxurious boat. You sip your drink, watching Barry's antics with amusement.
"Barry, shut up, yeah?" Rafe shouts at him, clearly fed up with Barry's incessant chatter about the boat. Barry throws up his hands in mock surrender. "All right, we need to make a move," Rafe walks over to his shirt and puts it on. "That's all we do, bro. We been making moves. Haven't we, y/n?" Barry glances at you as you watch the two talk business.
"Yeah, well, we don't have much time," Rafe says, his tone serious as he walks over to you and holds out his hand. You look at his hand for a moment before meeting his intense gaze. "Yo, come down here," Rafe says to Barry, jerking his head toward the stairs.
You take Rafe's hand as he leads you toward the stairs, your fingers still interlocked. Barry follows behind, curiosity piqued. "You're not gonna believe this shit," Rafe mutters, his voice low and intense.
As you descend to the bottom deck, Rafe's focus remains unshaken. "You seen any buyers?" he calls out, his mind clearly on the gold. Barry, now settling down on the couch beside you, responds with a chuckle, "It's always business with you, bro. I mean, I don't always live like this." You kick your feet up on the table, relaxing as Rafe heads to the fridge. He rummages through its contents, finally emerging with a few beers and your favorite drink.
"I'm just saying we need to take this shit seriously," Rafe insists, his tone carrying a sense of urgency. He opens your drink with a swift motion and hands it to you, his eyes meeting yours briefly. "Thanks," you reply softly, appreciating the small gesture. Barry observes the interaction with a raised eyebrow, then looks between you and Rafe with a smirk. "What? No princess treatment for me either?" he teases, pouting playfully at Rafe who rolls his eyes, “Get fucked.”
Barry clinks bottles with you after opening his beer, taking a swig and letting out a satisfied sigh. Moments later, Rafe returns, carrying a sleek black briefcase which he places on the table in front of Barry. You quickly adjust your feet as Barry's eyes widen in awe at the contents revealed inside. Your gaze meets Rafe's briefly before you lean forward, curiosity piqued.
"I should get a tooth made out of this, huh?" Barry quips, holding up a gleaming gold bar, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. You struggle to suppress a smile. "Look, don't be touching the shit. Just put it back," Rafe commands sternly, shooting Barry a look of irritation.
"Man, you're so paranoid. How do you put up with this shit, y/n?" Barry says, turning to you as he carefully replaces the gold bar. Rafe, exuding impatience, retorts, "I don't care about the cross. I'm trying to make money." He sits beside you, gently shifting your legs so they rest comfortably on his lap.
"I told you, my aunt, she got some contacts. She gonna help us move these little bitches," Barry reassures Rafe. Distracted by a sudden splash from the water nearby, you turn your head instinctively. Rafe notices your reaction immediately. "What is it?" he asks, concern threading through his voice. You rise from the couch, taking your sunglasses off as you move towards the edge to peer down at the water.
"Nothin'. Thought I heard something," you shrug, slipping on your sunglasses before returning to the sofa. "The gems, the nuggets, the whole damn melted enchilada!" Barry rambles on, his enthusiasm undeterred. "These gems are mint, man. The gold's bullion. We're selling it in bars, right? I'm not dealing with some half-assed pogue shit with some reject from Zales, bro."
Rafe's voice cuts through Barry's excitement, firm and cold. "Hey, watch how you're speaking about my aunt, dog," Barry retorts, scoffing. Rafe's hands, tense with stress, had already begun their way down your thighs, gripping them unconsciously. It was a telltale sign of his annoyance.
"I'm not talking about your aunt. I'm just saying, I don't fucking trust my shit with pogues," Rafe shrugs dismissively as you absentmindedly play with his rings.
Suddenly, your phone dings with a text message. Rafe leans over, grabbing your phone to hand it to you. Their chatter fades into the background as you focus on the message from your friend.
"Who is it, baby?" Rafe asks, removing his sunglasses as you show him your phone, reading the etext. "Barry, you gotta go, man," he says, watching you rise from the couch and slip off your cover-up.
"What? Why?" Barry protests, glancing between you and Rafe with confusion. Rafe sighs, his patience thinning. "Y/N's having her friends over for a girl’s day on the boat." Barry's eyes dart to you as you smile and nod. "That right? And I wasn't invited?" he says with mock offense, making you laugh.
"Next time, for sure," you assure him, still chuckling. Rafe, eager to get Barry off the boat, pats him on the back. "All right, time for you to go, bro. Good to see ya." "All right, all right, I'm going!" Barry concedes, standing up and making his way to the edge of the boat. "You have fun, Y/N!" he calls out, waving. "Bye, Barry!" you wave back with a smile.
As Barry leaves, Rafe's hands find your hips, fingers playfully tugging at the strings of your bikini bottoms. "Rafe!" you exclaim, swatting his hands away and retying the strings. "They'll be here soon." Rafe groans, "Why am I being cockblocked all day today." You smirk up at him, wrapping your arms around his neck pulling him in, "Later, I promise."
#rafe fic#rafe#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron#rafe obx#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe x reader#rafe imagine#outerbanks rafe#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x smut#outer banks x reader#outer banks#outer banks x you#outer banks x y/n#drew starkey#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey x y/n#drew starkey x female reader#drew starkey x you#drew starkey x oc#dark rafe cameron#drew starkey fanfiction#obx fanfiction
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pretty in that
ABOUT
rating: general audiences
characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader | live action!monkey d. luffy | live action!nami
pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader
word count: 4.2k
description: you have a hard time picking a dress for dinner whilst in kaya's mansion. zoro (sort of) helps!
tags: strawhat!reader, female reader, fluff, kissing, confessions, no use of "y/n", special straw hat appearances (nami & luffy), soft zoro
author's note: i'm a sucker for dress-up scenes so i KNEW i was gonna write smth like this once that ep3 scene started playing. reader chooses a dress at the end; dress is non-described so you can imagine your ideal dress!
You were on Nami and Zoro’s side when it came to whatever was going on in Syrup Village. Kaya’s mansion made you feel vaguely unsettled, and stepping into the building made your heart pound quicker than you would like to admit. But if there was one thing that piqued your interest, it was the order of changing clothes for dinner. You’d been stuck in the same few outfits for weeks now, and the promise of something new—and formal—was nearly exciting, although you’d never admit it in front of Nami and her disapproving gaze.
Kaya’s kindness combined with the private guest room and bath you were treated to helped soothe your nerves. Soon you found yourself being led to the giant closet the rest of the Straw Hats were already in—Nami was trying on various different pieces, and Zoro seemed to have something in hand too.
“Ah, there you are!” Luffy said, swiveling on his heel and giving you a big grin as you entered the room. You stared in disbelief at all of the racks around you. Hell, there were even clothes hanging from the ceiling.
“Well, we certainly have a lot of options,” you said, skimming a hand over a nearby rack. There were a variety of different fabrics, but they all felt expensive: silk and velvet, damasks and brocades. “I don’t even know where to start.”
“I’m just trying on anything,” Nami called from where she was, before stepping out from the room divider she’d been changing behind. She wore an emerald dress with a plunging neckline, the patterned silk clinging to her curves, and did a little spin. “What do you think?”
Luffy shrugged. Zoro wrinkled his nose, barely glancing up from the armchair he was lounging on. “I think it looks nice,” you offered, but Nami still seemed dissuaded.
“Ugh, these two are impossible. What are you going to wear?”
“Uh, I’m getting there,” you said with a little laugh. “It’s a bit overwhelming; I’d rather help you guys pick first. Luffy, have you found something yet?” You turned towards the man in the center of the room, who nodded enthusiastically.
“Yeah, I found this!” He raised up a black waistcoat. You frowned at it.
“Um, Luffy, waistcoats are supposed to be worn with a suit,” you said, then paused, seeing his blank look. “...Never mind.”
“And I’m wearing black,” Zoro added, despite the piece of clothing slung along his lap definitely not being black. You exchanged a glance with Nami, who just rolled her eyes. They’re stupid, she mouthed, then returned to the rack she was glancing through. She worked quickly, pulling out various numbers that she scrutinized before either setting on the couch beside her or putting back.
“Okay,” you said slowly. “Need me to find you some pants with that, Cap?” Nami and Zoro let out identical groans as you spoke the pet name, both turning to give you exasperated looks. You suppressed your laugh.
“Stop calling him that,” Zoro said with a tired sigh. “You’re encouraging him.”
“Kind of the point, yeah,” you said cheerfully. While Zoro and Nami were both still largely unconvinced about the whole pirate crew thing, you’d joined the bandwagon rather quickly. Zoro rolled his eyes, and you turned towards the racks to find Luffy some slacks. “Assumedly you need something other than that shirt too?”
“I’ll look later,” Zoro said passively. You watched him out of your peripheral vision. He was outfitted in a patterned kimono, his three swords slung along his lap. He didn’t seem too interested in his surroundings, though what he was doing, you weren’t sure. You let him be, turning to page through the racks of clothes again. Finally you found a pair of slacks that seemed like they’d fit Luffy.
“Here,” you said, passing them over to him. “And find some shoes while you’re at it.”
“Why does she even have clothes that don’t fit her?” Zoro murmured, sounding as baffled as he could get. “What, she just casually has clothes in all four of our sizes hanging around?”
“Rich people own things just to own them,” Nami called. She’d changed again; this dress had a halter neckline and was blush pink. Zoro motioned with a hand at it, and Nami frowned, glancing down at the dress. “You don’t like it?”
“Eh,” Zoro said. Nami made a face.
“At this point I think you’re hating just to hate.” She pulled up a few more options, narrowing her eyes as she surveyed them. Luffy was seemingly satisfied with what you’d given him, because he took the pieces off of their hangers and slung them over his shoulder.
“I’m off,” he announced. “Gonna go change in my room and do some exploring before dinner. Have fun!” With that, he left, and Nami sighed, turning towards you. She held up her final two options—a red cheongsam with delicate gold embroidery and a pastel blue dress with an a-line skirt. You gnawed on your bottom lip as you studied the two.
“I think the blue one might wash you out a bit,” you said eventually; it’d clash with her hair no doubt, and make her skin look even paler. The shade wasn’t a right match with her eyes, either. “I like the cheongsam; I think you should go with that one. It contrasts nicely with your hair.”
Nami raised up the dress again, inspecting it. “You’re right,” she said, ducking back behind the room divider to change. You started pursuing the racks again; Nami stepped out a few moments later, successfully outfitted in her new dress. “Okay, I’m going to go do my hair in my guest room. Good luck.”
“Bye,” you called, watching as she left the room. You clicked your tongue, almost alone now and with absolutely zero options of clothing. As much as you liked the idea of new clothes, the abundance of options was starting to seem a little daunting. “Okay, now that Nami’s done, it’s my turn to play dress-up.”
Zoro laughed from where he sat, and you startled, almost having forgotten he was there. He was watching you attentively, his attention having diverted from whatever it was he’d been thinking about earlier. “You like this kind of thing?”
“Well, I mean.” You shrugged, peering at a few of the pieces on the rack in front of you. You pulled out a deep green dress, eyeing the lace by the neckline before setting it back. “It’s kind of fun, isn’t it?”
“Not really what I’m into.”
“You wear jewelry, so clearly you have some fashionable instinct,” you pointed out, bending over to glance at the clothes hiding by your knees. These were all skirts or unreasonably short dresses, with so little fabric you were uncertain they would cover anything at all. “Unless the earrings are for another reason…?”
“Three swords, three earrings.”
“Makes sense. What are you wearing with your shirt?” You glanced back to see Zoro’s answer, but he merely shrugged. “Do you want me to find you some trousers? A suit?”
“You don’t need to find clothes for me. I can do that myself.” Still, Zoro made absolutely no move to do so. You rolled your eyes, but turned your attention back on what you’d be wearing for the dinner. Vaguely you wondered how Zoro would look wearing a suit. You flushed almost as soon as the thought popped into your head, shoving it into the very back of your skull and banishing it from seeing the light of day.
“If you say so,” you said instead, mostly to distract yourself from the beyond inappropriate thoughts starting to run through your head. Honestly, you barely knew your crew mates—the four of you were close to tearing each other’s throats out before you ran into Buggy, after all. And the fact that Zoro was, well, conventionally attractive—and you tried to keep your thoughts on that and that alone, anything emotional was strictly out of the question—shouldn’t be something your mind lingered on.
You picked out the first dress that looked to be your size. It was dark purple, backless with a tight trumpet skirt. Ducking behind the room divider Nami had used, you stripped off your clothes, donning the dress. There was a mirror along the other side of the divider, and you turned, trying to appraise the dress on your figure. The color didn’t look entirely right, and you were uneasy about the lack of mobility the skirt might have—Kaya’s staff were still extremely suspicious, after all, and you’d rather be safe than sorry.
“Let me see,” Zoro called from outside. You tugged at the dress, suddenly nervous, but stepped out after you couldn’t find a good enough excuse not to. Zoro’s eyes ran up and down your figure, and you did a slow circle, showing off the dress. The bare skin of your back prickled.
“You’re not going to be able to move in it,” he eventually said.
You huffed out a breath, the nervous energy that had accumulated in your chest leaving with the action. Something in your belly stirred; disappointment, maybe, that Zoro had only commented on the practicality of the dress, not how you looked in it. But you pushed those thoughts away with an angry shove. Not the time, and definitely not the person to be thinking those sorts of things about. “Yeah, that’s what I was worried about. Let me find something else.”
Zoro’s gaze didn’t flicker from your body as you started across the room, ducking between more racks to find something. “You dead-set on a dress?”
“I haven’t worn a dress in a while,” you answered, picking out a red one before remembering Nami’s choice and setting it back. “Might as well take the opportunity.” The next one you pulled was blue, all shiny and soft. The material looked like some kind of tender silk. You set it aside to try on. “Why?”
“Haven’t seen either you or Nami in a dress before.”
“Actually, you have. I’m wearing one right now and Nami tried like five on earlier,” you said, glancing over your shoulder to shoot Zoro an unimpressed look. He scoffed, though there was a smile at the edges of his mouth as he turned his head away. Your next choice was soft pink, and made of tulle that vaguely resembled a puff pastry. You pulled it up. “Think I should try it?”
“I mean, pick whatever,” Zoro said, though he seemed mildly disgusted by the amount of fabric the skirt had, all bunched up with layers like something a ballerina might wear. “What are you trying to achieve with the dress?”
“What am I—I’m trying to look nice, Zoro,” you said, stifling your laughter. You set the pink dress back, replacing it with a sage green number instead. “Not everything has ulterior motives.”
“You always look nice.”
You froze, a soft chill curling around the back of your neck. Carefully, you straightened up from where’d you been bent over yet another rack of clothes, turning to look Zoro in the eye. His eyes hadn’t moved. “Oh,” you managed out, throat all dry and tongue like sandpaper in your mouth. “Well, thank you.”
Zoro cleared his throat, a dull noise he made in the hollow of his throat without even parting his lips. His gaze flickered away. “Yeah. Go try those on.”
Wordlessly, you stepped back behind the room divider and slipped on the blue dress. It had a texture like water—it was some kind of high-end silk, flexible enough that it was near liquid in movement. The dress itself fell to your ankles, and had a simple square neckline. You stepped outside, doing another slow twirl. “Better,” Zoro said.
“Better how?”
“You can probably run in it.”
You twisted your lips, trying to suppress the urge to turn them down into a frown. “Okay. It’s not doing it for me.” You ducked back behind the divider to change yet again; the sage green one was satin, with long sleeves and a neckline you hadn’t anticipated would be that deep.
Still, upon exiting the divider and turning for Zoro again, he didn’t have any worthwhile feedback. “It’s kind of plain,” he said eventually, not meeting your eyes.
You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest; you had to almost resist stomping over to the racks to find something more, and spent another few minutes gathering dresses and trying them on.
To your immense disappointment, each one garnered little to no reaction from Zoro. You even shoved on one of the tiny, too-little fabric dresses you’d disapproved of earlier, but all Zoro did was scan you from head to toe and say, rather flatly, “you’d get stabbed pretty easily in that.”
Frustration bled into your nerves as you hid behind the divider again. You glared at yourself in the mirror—your skin had started flushing with how annoyed you were getting, which might’ve been funny had you not been so ticked off. Men, you thought, irritated. Was it really so hard to tell you that you looked pretty?
He’s a bounty hunter, you had to remind yourself. He doesn’t care about this kind of thing. Besides, he was the last person you should be setting your sights on anyway. You tugged at the short dress, the hem just barely grazing the tops of your thighs.
You heard footsteps approaching from outside the divider, suddenly too close as you snapped yourself out of the reverie of thoughts you’d been lost in. Zoro turned the corner, arm propped up against the divider edge as he peered in, brows furrowed. “You stopped coming out,” he said. He was still in his kimono, swords tossed over one shoulder. The shirt he had was, assumedly, left on the couch he’d finally stood up from.
“I’m frustrated,” you told him blandly. His frown deepened.
“Because of… clothing?”
You suppressed the sigh that threatened to escape your lungs. “Never mind. I’m fresh out of ideas.” You pushed past Zoro, opting to stand in the center of the room as if analyzing it from a different view would magically give you more options. Zoro turned to stare, still looking perplexed. “With so many options, it’s hard to make up my mind, that’s all.”
“Uh huh.” Zoro was still studying you. “Did I do something?”
“What? No,” you said hastily. Too hastily. The words had ripped out of your throat like a hiccup, and you seriously needed to learn how to lie a bit better because now Zoro’s expression was even more confused. “No. Why would I be mad at you?”
“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking.”
“It’s nothing,” you insisted, turning away from Zoro to stare at some of the clothes hanging on the wall above his head. These were too high up to properly look at, and as you stepped back, you glanced through the dresses hanging off the arch of the ceiling. You perused them without too much interest, eyes glancing over the various colors and fabrics until—
Zoro stepped next to you. “Hey,” he said, and you jolted, head snapping down to look at him. You let out a noise of irritation, then turned your focus back on the ceiling.
Your gaze flickered through the racks until finally falling on one particular dress hanging by the mouth of the room. It was somewhat hidden, tucked in a little corner beside a few other pieces, but from your vantage point it seemed about your size.
You took a step closer to it, surveying it with your neck craned. The material looked soft and comfortable but it still retained shape, and the color—even in the dim lighting of the closet—was one of your favorites. The undertone would suit your skin perfectly. And, well, you didn’t want to put all your bets on one dress you hadn’t even touched, but it was certainly promising.
Zoro stepped past you, barely exerting any effort to reach up and bring the dress down from where it hung up high. “This one, right?” he asked, and you swallowed, some of the annoyances you had towards him dissolving as he extended the dress hanger towards you. You nodded wordlessly, taking it. You stood there for a second before Zoro gestured with his head towards the divider. “Go try it on.”
You did so, retreating safely behind your wall and stepping out of the little dress. You surveyed the one Zoro had grabbed for you again, heart lodged in your throat. It really was beautiful, and exactly your style; now that you saw it up close, you could safely affirm it was your size too, but nervousness still pulsed through your veins at it.
Carefully, you slipped it on, adjusting the fabric around your hips and fixing up the neckline to rest evenly on your skin.
Zoro spoke out from the rest of the room. “So why are you mad at me?”
“I’m not—” you sighed, dropping your arms before returning to fiddle with the dress. “I’m not mad at you.”
“Is it because I wasn’t being helpful with the clothes? Because I already said that’s not exactly my area of expertise—”
“It’s not because of the clothes, Zoro,” you said sharply, cutting him off. Zoro clicked his tongue, the sound reverberating around the room and thudding in time with your heartbeat. You turned your attention back onto your reflection. “It’s just me being silly. Don’t worry about it.”
‘I’m worrying about it,” Zoro deadpanned. You sighed, adjusting the dress one final time before arranging your hair and staring at yourself in the mirror. It fit you perfectly, emphasizing all the right places and hiding all the parts of your body you were more insecure about. “Changed yet?”
“Yeah,” you said, voice limp.
“Let me see.”
You bit your lip, suddenly nervous about how he’d react. Knowing him, it’d be something like it’s okay or the color’s fine; perhaps can you even walk in that? or weird shape if he was feeling a little more critical. Still, you stepped out anyway, not meeting Zoro’s eyes as you spun for him, letting him look at the dress from all angles. When you’d finished posing you glanced up, eyes meeting him tentatively.
“It’s…” Zoro cleared his throat, ripping his gaze away from the dress on your figure to flicker up to your face. His gaze dropped again nearly as fast, like he couldn’t bear to keep eye contact. “Uh.”
“It’s what?” you prompted, turning to face the nearest mirror. Your lips twisted into a worried frown, turning to glance at the dress again. Was it really not as perfect as you’d thought originally? “Do you like it? It’s my favorite so far, I think, but if you don’t like it—”
“You look pretty in that,” Zoro blurted, cutting your rambles off with the strident, too-loud sentence. You froze, eyes flickering to meet him in the mirror. Carefully, he glanced up at you, and you could see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard.
“Oh.”
Zoro coughed, averting his gaze as you slowly turned around to face him. You couldn’t see properly with the less-than-ideal lighting of the room, but his face seemed to have taken on a ruddier complexion. “I like it,” he said, words softer than they’d been before. “It’s the one.”
There was a little rush of something through your veins, and you felt vaguely lightheaded. “Okay,” you barely managed to squeak out. “Thanks.” You stumbled back behind the divider, sucking in a deep breath and trying to regulate your breathing. God, this was actually shameful at this point.
You composed yourself quickly, gathering all the dresses you’d tried on and abandoned to return to their proper places. Zoro was still watching you attentively, and you glanced over your shoulder at him. Sparks prickled along your skin as your eyes met. “What?” you asked.
“You’re acting weird.”
“Am not.”
Zoro stood up, rolling back his shoulders and stretching his head from side to side. He glanced through the racks and, without even a minute’s hesitation, plucked a suit jacket and matching pants out from beside him. “Yeah, you are. What’s up?”
“You’re just grabbing those without thinking about it?” you demanded, eager to change the subject. Zoro rolled his eyes.
“I picked them like fifteen minutes ago,” he said. “Just didn’t grab them until you were done your whole… thing. Now spill it. You’re all red again.”
You swiveled towards the closest mirror, unable to suppress your gape as you saw that your skin had indeed turned a distinctive shade of scarlet, flushed undertones creeping their way up your skin. It was entirely recognizable even in the terrible lighting. Even your skin was treacherous, now. “Nothing,” you muttered, unable to meet Zoro’s eyes as you spit it out. “I was annoyed because you weren’t telling me what you thought of the dresses.”
“I… did, though?” Zoro said, perplexed. You let out a grating sigh, cheeks flaring even hotter now that he was forcing you to confess the entire extent of your sins.
“Yeah, like, practically,” you said, wrapping your arms defensively over your chest. “You’ll get stabbed in that so easily. You won’t be able to walk. I just wanted you to tell me that—” you cut yourself off with another groan. “Don’t make me say it.”
Zoro blinked. “I have no idea what you’re edging towards, so you’re going to have to say it.”
“I just wanted you to tell me I looked nice!” you finally burst out, turning so you wouldn’t have to look at Zoro’s face. God, you were going to have to quit the Straw Hats after this. It was so entirely stupid.
“But—” There was a laugh in Zoro’s voice, and you glared down at the floor, all of your dignity having left you by this point. You had no shame left to feel anymore. “I said ‘you always look nice’. Doesn’t that insinuate—”
“That’s not the point,” you said hotly, tone almost argumentative now. “I wanted you to think I looked pretty in a dress, Zoro.”
Zoro didn’t respond for a moment, brows creasing and face taking on a baffled expression. “But why—” Zoro cut himself off, and you turned even redder, holding your breath as he finally connected the dots. A single word fell from his lips, like a soft breath of air as he spoke. “Oh.”
“Oh,” you muttered under your breath, unable to stop the almost whining tone your voice took on. Zoro stepped closer to you, a hand wrapping around your wrist and forcing you to look up at him.
“I said you looked pretty in this one.”
“I know,” you insisted, still all red, “which is why I’m not totally mad at you, but—”
“You looked pretty in all of them,” Zoro said. He didn’t look bashful, per se—you didn’t think Zoro could get shy—but his voice was low, all hoarse in a more tentative way rather than one of his grating remarks this time. “For the record.”
Your breath caught.
“This one’s my favorite, though,” Zoro muttered. And then he was leaning down to kiss you, the ghost of his lips just on the corner of your mouth. You gaped up at him in shock as he averted his gaze, staring at some spot about your head. “Was that—” he started, before clearing his throat and trying again with a little more of his dignity this time. “Was that okay?”
“Yes,” you blurted fervently, and before you could fix up the moment with something more, well, suitable, your big mouth ruined it for you. “But I think we’re holding up dinner. You should get changed, and I still need to find shoes.”
You bit your tongue immediately after the words had been said, but it was too late—Zoro coughed, turning away from you. You panicked, and now it was your turn to grab his arm and tug you towards him. “Wait!”
Zoro glanced down at you, perplexed, and then you leaned up to kiss him square on the mouth. He stumbled back, surprised, but adjusted quickly, hand going to cradle the back of your neck and pressing you right to him before you finally broke apart.
“You should steal it,” he started. You stared up at him in question. “The dress, I mean. You should steal it.”
“When am I ever going to need to wear this again?” you asked, perplexed. Zoro shrugged, fingers tugging at the edge of the dress's neckline.
“Dunno. Just take it. She probably won’t even notice.”
“You’re adorable,” you teased; Zoro wrinkled his nose but didn’t complain, opting instead to move away and pick up the clothes he still hadn’t changed into. “Go change. See you at dinner.”
“Yeah,” Zoro said, his eyes not straying from your figure as you ducked out of the room. Before you could fully leave, though, Zoro grabbed your wrist, spinning you around towards him.
You didn’t have enough time to ask what he was doing when he leaned around to kiss you one final time, his hands cradling your face as your lips moved against each other. It was only a moment later that he stepped away, looking rather sheepish but not very apologetic as he finally let you go.
“You look more than pretty,” he murmured, eyes sinking into yours, and your throat dried, any words you might’ve formed dying away within seconds. “You always look more than pretty. You look gorgeous.”
“Thank you,” you whispered, and then he ducked back inside the closet to change.
© halfvalid 2023
#opla zoro#opla roronoa zoro#roronoa zoro#roronoa zoro x reader#roronoa zoro x you#reader insert#x reader#opla#one piece live action#one piece netflix#opla zoro x reader#opla fanfiction#opla fanfic#one piece live action x reader#opla x reader#kiki writes!
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Close to You - Spencer Reid
Likes are always appreciated but reblogs and feedback keep artists going!
Summary: Spencer is needy and Reader has a work deadline to meet, so they try something new as a compromise.
Word Count: 1.9k
A/N: me writing another cockwarming fic? it’s more likely than you’d think ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (no mommy kink this time cuz this feels more mild as far as the sub/dom dynamic goes, maybe next time!)
TW: sub!spencer, softdom!reader, cockwarming, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, creampie, afab reader
Rating: R/18+ (oops all smut)
——
The blue light of your computer screen was starting to make your eyes hurt, the hours of completed paperwork in your rearview feeling like nothing compared to the digital mountain of remaining work for your proposal you still had to complete by the deadline your boss had given you. Working from home certainly had its perks, but right now the only thing you could think of was how much more focused you’d be if you were still in an office.
“How’s work going?” Spencer’s voice broke your train of thought as he turned the corner into your home office.
“It’s fine, I still have a lot to get done.” You sighed, continuing to type away on your keyboard.
“You know, I was reading an article the other day about studies being conducted that explore the long term effects the extended work hours work-from-home jobs require have on the average adult, it went pretty in-depth on how psychologists suspect the lack of separation between work and the home environment can negatively affect the way we prioritize professional work with personal tasks and quality time.” You could tell your boy-wonder was using his vast knowledge to pick an article with a topic that was a bit too on the nose to beat around the bush of his point, but you didn’t know why.
“That’s very interesting Spencer, but why bring that up when you know I can’t stop working?” You questioned, calling his bluff.
“We haven’t had sex in 2 weeks.” He mumbled, just loud enough for you to hear. You knew that, and it was driving you crazy just as much as it was him, but this project was major and if you wanted to get the promotion you had been working so hard to get, you had to set your personal needs aside for a bit.
“I’ll make it up to you once I finish this, I promise.” You weren’t lying, your accidental celibacy had stretched your imagination to some very interesting places, and you couldn’t wait to try those new things with him, but it had to wait, no matter how touch-starved you felt.
“I want you.” He almost whined, taking a couple steps further into your peripheral vision.
“Spencer, you know I need to get this project completed before my deadline tomorrow, I don’t have time for this.”
“But I need…help.” His words were drawn out, his hushed tone piquing your interest. You pushed your chair out, craning your neck to make eye contact with him before his gaze dipped lower and yours followed. The fabric of his pajama pants was pulled taut over his bulge, his fidgeting hands barely restricting your view despite his attempt to hide the evidence of his arousal behind them.
“Oh baby, that must hurt, huh?” You sighed, giving him a sympathetic look before turning back to your work.
“It does, I need you.” He pleaded, coming up behind you to rest his hands on your shoulders.
“You need to take care of it yourself.” Your statement came out more blunt than you intended and a hint of guilt started to pang in your chest, the stress of this deadline was starting to get to you and you didn’t mean to take it out on him.
“I’m sorry to bother you, I know you’re busy, but I already tried and I just made it worse, you feel so much better than my hand does.” He over-explained, continuing to plead his case as his fingers started kneading the sore muscles atop your shoulders.
You mulled over your options, the concept of his admittedly impressive cock filling your neglected cunt sounding all-too appealing in the moment. You knew you couldn’t take the time to fuck him right now, after no sex for two weeks your carnal urges would absolutely take over and you’d wind up ignoring your work for the rest of the night, to the detriment of your employment status. You were about to send him away when an idea popped into your head, something that could be a good compromise to both of your predicaments if done correctly.
“Drop your pants.” You bluntly stated, beginning to stand from your chair. He followed your instruction, a bit confused but too excited to question, always eager to please you. You also stripped from the waist down, ignoring the growing slick between your thighs.
“Sit down.” Came your next instruction, your eyes fixed on his erection, his head blushed pink and dripping with precum. When he was situated you climbed back onto the chair with him, positioning your knees on the suede fabric on either side of his thighs, hips hovering over his member. You reached down, fingers wrapping around his length as you positioned his head at your dripping entrance, reveling in the first sexual contact the two of you had experienced in far too long.
You slowly sank down, your warm walls engulfing his throbbing cock until you were seated fully on his lap, the fullness giving you a sense of satisfaction. Spencer’s breathy sighs and white-knuckled grip on the arms of the chair told you he was enjoying this just as much as you were, but you knew he would want more any second. You on the other hand were always better at controlling your desires, even just this level of intimacy enough to satiate you for the moment.
You relaxed into him, back pressed to his chest as you began your work once again, ignoring the dull ache in your core.
“A-are you going to move?” Spencer’s desperate voice broke the silence after a few minutes of you typing away at your computer.
“No. This is all I have time to give you right now. If you’re a good boy and stay still for me, I’ll let you do whatever you want tonight.” You were curious to see how well he’d do with this. Even though Spencer prided himself on being the smartest in the room at any given time, he wasn’t very good at controlling his urges and it amused you how his composure could disappear if he was desperate enough, particularly around you.
“Okay.” He breathed, seeing the muscles in his arms relax and the grip he held on the chair loosen out of the corner of your eye.
You continued your work, busting your ass to complete your project as quickly as possible. Every once and awhile you’d flex your kegel muscles, your walls contracting around his cock to keep him as hard as possible, teasing him to see how hard you could push his patience.
You grew closer to your last tasks, the end finally in sight when you felt him start to shift under you, hips attempting to thrust up into you. You anchored your hips, holding him down to not break your focus. He let out the most pathetic whine you’d ever heard, running his hand through his hair out of frustration.
“If you move again, you won’t cum tonight. I’m almost done, do not distract me again.” You told him sternly, rocking your hips back one time as an incentive.
“Understood.” He groaned, thighs relaxing beneath you.
You wrapped up the last paragraph of your proposal, satisfied with the work you had done. You could feel Spencer tense when you closed out of the last application and shut off the computer, screen darkening and leaving the two of you bathed in the golden glow of sunset in an otherwise dark room. Instead of finishing him there, you rose off of him, leaving him groaning in desperation.
His cock was covered in your slick, veins throbbing and head almost purple from how desperate he was to cum. You started walking out of the room, finger motioning for him to follow you and he almost tripped over the chair, trailing in your shadow. You found the bedroom, stripping out of your remaining clothing while contemplating what position you wanted him in. Your thighs were starting to burn from sitting in the position you had held for so long, so you opted for good old-fashioned missionary. You laid down on the bed, thighs spread as Spencer pulled off his shirt and waited for your instruction.
“Come here.” The words had barely left your lips and Spencer was already on the end of the bed, crawling up to you like an animal on the prowl.
“Do you want to fuck me, Spencer?” You asked, drawing out his torture just a little while longer.
“Yes please, need to feel your perfect cunt again.” He begged, looking down at you with his big brown eyes.
“Go ahead, but don’t cum until I say so.” You instructed, your hand finding the nape of his neck, tugging lightly on his hair. He moaned, positioning himself at your entrance before thrusting fully into you, his gaze locked on the way your breasts bounced with each desperate thrust into your warm cunt.
His pace remained steady, pounding into you, your pleasure slowly building but not quite hitting the spot you needed him to. You wrapped your legs around his hips, angling your hips up ever so slightly and you couldn’t help but cry out, his cock finally hitting the soft spot inside of you that you’d been craving. He dropped his head into your shoulder, bringing his hand to your pussy to rub firm swipes over your clit, clearly desperately trying to make you cum so he could.
“So close, I don’t know how much longer I can last.” He panted, hips faltering slightly.
“It’s okay baby, don’t stop.” You moaned, too close to care about being firm with him anymore after how good he’d been for you today.
His thrusts became increasingly desperate, driving into you at a pace that had you seeing stars, the combined pressure on your clit sending you over the edge in a blur of white hot ecstasy.
“Spencer!” You cried out, nails digging into his back as you rode out your orgasm, rocking your hips to meet his thrusts.
His moans grew louder, hips stuttering and you could tell he was almost there, but something was holding him back.
“Cum inside me.”
Your request was all he needed to hear, not having to worry about pulling out anymore allowing all of his focus to finally come undone, hot ropes of cum filling your aching cunt. He pulled out of you, collapsing beside you with his head on your chest, long legs almost dangling off the side of the bed. You laid there spent, gently running your fingers through his hair until you both caught your breath.
“Thank you.” He spoke, lifting his head to look you in the eye.
“There's no need to thank me Spence, I’m sorry I’ve been so busy. You were right about overworking, I’ll try to delegate a bit more.” You sighed.
“I just don’t want you to overwork yourself, you deserve to enjoy yourself more often.” He leaned up to pull you into a kiss, his arms wrapping around your waist as you finally got a moment to relax for the first time in weeks.
——
Tag List: @pleasantwitchgarden @lover-of-books-and-tea
DM me or send me an ask if you’d like to be added to my general or spencer reid taglist :)
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Sweet Tooth or Sweet Cravings?
Kenji Sato x fem!reader
Summary: When a chocolate company sent Ken a PR package, he ate the chocolates without thoroughly inspecting them, and, well...things took an unexpected turn.
CW: 18+ (mdni), established relationship, aphrodisiac chocolates, implied panty sniffing, masturbation, fingering, squirting, creampie, unprotected sex, pet names.
Words: 1.5k
AN: this is just an excuse for me to write him like he's in heat :3
Today 4:12 PM
Ken <3: can you come home? its an emergency
The moment you saw his text, your heart skipped a beat. Without a second thought, you clocked out early and made a beeline for the parking lot. You had never driven so fast in your life, and you were sure you almost broke the gas pedal from how hard your heels were pressing on it.
The city streets blurred past you, your mind racing with worry and a thousand scenarios of what could have gone wrong. You barely noticed the honking horns or the changing traffic lights, and your focus was solely on getting to Ken as quickly as possible.
As you reached Ken's home, you punched in the code with shaking fingers, and the door swung open almost instantly. You dropped your bag near the entrance, not caring where it landed, and stumbled inside, quickly sliding off your heels as you hurried to find him.
Rounding the corner into the living room, you saw Ken from behind, his broad shoulders rising and falling with each laboured breath. "Ken, are you ok–" The sight caught you off guard. There he was, panting heavily, glistening with sweat, eyes half-closed as he stroked his cock. It stood proudly and flushed in a deep red colour. His other hand clutched your panty from this morning.
“Sweetheart, I’m sorry you have to–fuck,” the moment he saw you, his body tensed, and with a guttural moan, he finally came, his cum coating his hand and abdomen.
As he sprawled against the couch, you took a moment to look around the living room. Your eyes landed on a box of half-eaten chocolates on the coffee table. Curiosity piqued, you picked up the box and examined it closely. The label read "Aphrodisiac Chocolates" in a small, elegant script. Realisation dawned on you, and you couldn't help but let out a small, incredulous laugh. Ken had unknowingly consumed aphrodisiacs, and now the situation made a lot more sense.
You sat down next to him on the couch, eyes wide with concern. "Ken, what the hell? Are you okay?"
"I—I’m really sorry. I didn’t expect this... I think I overdid it with those chocolates."
"Those weren’t just chocolates, were they?"
"No, they were aphrodisiac chocolates. I didn’t check the label...clearly, I should have," he growled, frustration evident in his voice as he discarded your panty from his hand.
"Yeah, I can see that. It’s obvious they did more than just satisfy a sweet tooth," you smirked, leaning closer, your breath teasing against his ear.
"You’re not helping, you know." His eyes narrowed at you, a mix of frustration and desire burning within them.
Before you could respond, Ken, overwhelmed by the effects and your teasing, pulled you down onto him. He ground his hard-on between your thighs, his breath coming out in ragged bursts as he tried to find some relief.
"Ken, what—" You gasped, your voice filled with surprise.
"I need you. Right now. Please, help me." His voice was husky and urgent, his need unmistakable.
–
You lost track of time, the sky outside turning dark as the house became dimly lit. Your clothes were strewn everywhere, and he had taken you on every possible surface – from the coffee table to the expansive living room window overlooking the ocean, and now on his bed.
He didn't hesitate for a moment, his desire insatiable. Somehow, he even managed to feed you the aphrodisiac chocolates during heated kisses, deepening the intensity of your connection with each touch and taste that seemed impossible to quench.
"Baby," you moaned, your voice trembling with need. He had your hands pinned against the headboard, his grip firm and unyielding. His chest pressed against your back, warm and solid, as his fingers delved into your wet cunt, moving with a relentless rhythm that left you breathless.
The squelching sound filled the room, adding to the erotic symphony that drove him even harder. Your back arched with every expert stroke, each thrust of his fingers hitting the perfect spot over and over, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.
“Ken, wait!” you gasped, feeling a strange pressure building within you. “I feel like I’m gonna pee.”
He didn’t falter for a second, his fingers maintaining their relentless rhythm. “Just let go, princess,” he murmured, his voice a mix of encouragement and command. “The sheets are already dirty anyway.”
His words and the relentless thrusting of his fingers broke down your resistance. With a cry of both pleasure and relief, you let go, your body trembling as you squirted, the sensation overwhelming. Ken’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he continued to work you through it, his fingers drenched in your release.
“Atta girl,” he murmured, his voice low and approving. “Just like that.”
As Ken finally released your hands, you let them slide down, resting them beside you—the dampness of the wet sheets clinging uncomfortably to your skin, causing you to grimace. You took a few deep breaths, trying to calm the rapid pace of your breathing, and allowed yourself a moment to regain composure.
Ken, still insatiable and eager, looked at you with a determined glint in his eyes. “It’s my turn now,” he said, his voice rough with need. You, sore and spent, protested weakly, “Baby, I’m so beat... I don’t know if I can handle much more.”
He silenced your concerns with a reassuring smile and a quick, decisive movement. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything,” he said, his tone filled with confidence. With a firm grip, he lifted you effortlessly and positioned you on his lap, your legs spread and held against your chest. He manoeuvred you into a perfect angle and guided his hard cock to your still-sensitive cunt.
“Fuck, Ken, too deep!” you cried out, your voice trembling as you struggled to adjust to the overwhelming sensation. Saliva dribbled from your lips, a testament to the intense pleasure and exhaustion.
Ken's voice was a low, teasing murmur against your ear. “But you love it when I go deep like this,” he cooed, his tone dripping with mockery. He squeezed you closer, his grip firm and possessive, restricting your movements and trapping you in place.
The way he moved, controlling every motion and maximising your pleasure, made you feel like nothing more than his personal plaything, his fleshlight. Each powerful thrust sent your breasts bouncing. Your head leaned back against him, the sensation overwhelming as his movements were both demanding and dominant, ensuring you felt every inch of him, leaving you breathless and helpless under his command.
Finally, with a guttural groan that reverberated through the room, Ken’s body tensed, and a shudder ran through him as he reached his peak. His hot cum spilling deeply inside you, a wave of warmth that filled you completely.
He collapsed against you, his breath coming in deep, shuddering gasps as he buried his face in your hair, staying fully inside you. As he caught his breath, he managed to joke through his ragged breaths, “I think I’ll have to give that chocolate company a review —'5 stars for effectiveness!'”
You weakly slapped his arms, a small, affectionate smile tugging at your lips despite the fatigue. “You’re impossible,” you murmured, barely able to muster the energy to respond.
He then gently shifted his position, moving his hand to cup your chin and guide your face towards his. His eyes, soft and tender, met yours as he leaned in to press a gentle, affectionate kiss to your lips.
Pulling back slightly, he whispered with a teasing smile, “But you love me.”
“Unfortunately.” You responded with a playful sigh.
–
You were scrolling through your phone during lunch, your thoughts drifting as you ate, when a familiar company caught your eye. You paused, intrigued by a screenshot of a review with the username Notkensato07. The review was under a popular chocolate company, and as you read the lines, you couldn’t help but groan.
Notkensato07: ★★★★★
"Absolutely incredible! I tried the aphrodisiac chocolates and they were so effective, my girlfriend’s still recovering. If you want a taste of heaven—and maybe a little bit of chaos—this is your go-to. 5 stars, but if I could give it more, I would!
⤷ 241 replies
g0urmetguru: More than 5, huh? That’s some serious praise. I’m curious, how long did the effects last? Asking for a friend 😉
sillysocks76: IS THIS KEN SATO?
ChefRemyDaRat: Wow, talk about a rave review! If it’s that good, I’m buying a box for sure 🔥
chocolateroses: LMAOOO! I hope your girlfriend’s recovery is going well, man!
SweetToothSteve: Wow, this sounds wild! I’ve heard aphrodisiac chocolates are hit-or-miss, but this sounds like a game-changer. Guess I’ll be adding these to my shopping list!
jellybonbons: Nah, that’s cap.
⤷ chikinuggie: You’re just salty because you got no hoes.
⤷jellybonbons: (comment removed for harassment)
⤷jellybonbons: Wtf? why is my comment removed n not chikin for bullying?!
⤷ chikinuggie: The truth hurts, doesn’t it?
⤷ SweetToothSteve: Alright, kids, play nice! 😂
–
Shocked by the boldness of his review, you yelled out his name in disbelief, “SATO!”
Ken, who had been skipping around the living room as part of his exercise routine, froze mid-skip. The sudden outburst made him lose his rhythm, causing him to trip over his own feet.
“Oh shit!”
Dividers by: @/chilumitos
#✧˚ ༘ ⋆。 ˚#ken sato x reader#kenji sato x reader#ken sato smut#kenji sato smut#ken sato fanfic#kenji sato fanfic#ultraman rising fanfic#ultraman rising smut#ultraman rising x reader
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TAG! - M. STURNIOLO
SYNOPSIS: What happens when your brother's best friend pushes your boundaries in a thrilling encounter?
CONTENTS: nls!reader, explicit sexual content, strong language, power dynamics, degradation, chasing? primal? idk, no actual piv, oral (male), semi-public, humiliation.
WORD COUNT: 1.5k
pt2 (chris)
You sit around the kitchen table of the cozy cabin, the glow of the moonlight spilling in through the windows, casting shadows across the well-worn Monopoly board. The laughter and banter of the evening's game slowly die down as the last few hotel properties are snatched up, and the bank is declared bankrupt. Your brother Nate, and his best friends, grin at each other, the competitive spirit still lingering in the air. It's late, and the yawns start to take over, signaling the end of the night.
The cabin's wooden floorboards creak as everyone heads to their designated sleeping areas. The fireplace crackles, casting a warm, flickering light across the room. You settle into your bed, but the excitement of the day keeps sleep at bay. The rustling of blankets and muffled snores from your brother's room reminds you that you're not the only one who remains restless.
The whispers of the night beckon you and you find yourself tiptoeing to the bedroom door. You peek into the hallway, noticing a sliver of light seeping out from under Matt's door. Curiosity piqued, you ease the door open to find him sitting on the edge of the bed, shirtless, staring at the floor. "Can't sleep either?" he asks, looking up and catching your gaze.
"Yeah, it's like my brain won't shut up," you admit, stepping into the room. "Wanna go outside for some fresh air?"
Matt nods, a glint in his eye. "How about we play a game to pass the time?"
Intrigued, you follow him out into the cool night, the crunch of gravel underfoot. The moon casts a silver path down to the lake, where the water laps gently against the shore. The air is alive with the scent of pine and the distant sound of an owl's hoot.
"Okay, I'll chase you," he says with a smirk, "and if I catch you, I win."
You laugh, thinking it's just a way to burn off some energy. "What do I get if I win?"
"We'll see," he teases, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Ready or not, here I come!"
And with that, he's off, his sneakers pounding the ground as he sprints towards you. You squeal, the thrill of the chase igniting your senses. As you dart away from him, the night air feels alive with electricity, your heart pounding in your chest. This is the kind of thrill you live for, the kind that makes you feel alive.
The game starts innocently enough, the two of you weg through the trees, laughing and panting. But as the minutes tick by, the adrenaline turns into something else. Something you've felt simmering between you for a while now, something you've been too scared to acknowledge. The wind carries the scent of him, a tantalizing mix of aftershave and pure masculine energy. Your skin tingles with anticipation, and you start to feel the heat building deep within you.
Matt's breath is hot on your neck as he catches up, his strong hands grabbing you around the waist. You gasp, feeling his solid body pressed against yours, the game turning into something much more primal. You can feel the heat of his body overcome yours, and it sends a shockwave through your core. This isn't just a game anymore; it's a dance of desire that you're both eager to explore.
He whispers in your ear, his voice thick with lust, "I win."
With a firm grip, he spins you around and pushes you to your knees. You look up at him, a mix of fear and excitement swirling in your eyes. He's serious. The gravity of the moment hits you like a ton of bricks, but you don't resist. You want this. You've wanted this for a long time.
He unbuckles his belt, the metal clinking in the stillness of the night, and unzips his pants, pulling out his hard cock. "You know how this goes," he murmurs, stroking himself, watching you with a hungry gaze. "You're gonna let me use that pretty little throat?"
Your heart races as you lean in, your mouth watering despite the fear. You wrap your lips around him, and he groans, his hand tangling in your hair. He's not gentle, pushing deeper into your mouth, his grip tightening with every moan. The taste of him fills your senses, a mix of salt and earth, and you can't help but feel a twinge of excitement. This isn't how you thought this night would go, but the way he's looking at you, the way he's holding you, it's like he's claiming you, and it turns you on more than you ever thought possible.
You try to keep up, but he's too much for you. You gag, and he laughs, a dark sound that sends shivers down your spine. "Look at you," he says, "such a good little slut, take it." Spit trails down your chin, and your eyes water, but you don't stop. You can't. The thrill of it all is too intense.
"I bet Nate never knew what a whore you are," he murmurs, his voice low aging. "Letting me fuck your mouth out here like some cheap hooker." His words are like a slap in the face, but they only serve to make you wetter. Your eyes narrow as your brows chisel in, but you're his, and you're letting him do this to you. It's a power play, and you're both acutely aware of it.
"Oh, you're mad?" He laughs. The sound of branches underfoot in the distance makes your heart leap. "Better hurry up," he says, his eyes glinting with excitement, "or Chris might find you like this and want a taste" The thought sends a jolt of fear and arousal through you. "Oh, but you'd love that, being used by both your brother's best friends?" Your mind races. What would Nate think if he found you like this? What would Nick do? The possibility of getting caught only adds to the thrill.
Matt's hand moves to your chin, holding it in a firm grip as he fucks your mouth harder, faster. "Take it, baby," he growls, his hips bucking against your face. "You like it, huh?" You nod, unable to speak with his cock lodged in your throat, you mumble around his shaft. You do love it. The degradation, the power he has over you in this moment, it's intoxicating.
Finally, with a grunt, he pulls out, coming all over your face and chest. You collapse back onto the ground, gasping for air, your heart racing and your eyes like storms behind shed tears. He wipes his dick off your shirt, smiling down at you like he's just conquered the world. "You've always been mine, don’t get mad now," he says, his voice full of satisfaction. He leans down, his hand on your jaw suddenly pulls away and the sing on your face is accompanied by the hot spit thrown at you. "Mine to use whenever I want."
The night air is thick with the scent of sex and sweat, and you can't help but feel a little bit used. But you don't care. You're his, and that's all that matters. The tension between you is palpable, the line between friendship and something darker is now irrevocably blurred. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, tasting him on your lips, and wonder if this is the start of something new.
As you both catch your breath, the sound of footsteps grows louder. Panic flares in your chest. "we have to get back." You stumble to your feet, your legs wobbly from the intense experience. Matt chuckles, tucking himself back into his pants.
Together, you sneak back towards the cabin, your heart pounding in your ears. As you enter the cabin, you see the light from Nate's room is now off. Did he hear you? Did he know what was happening outside?
You slip into your bed, your body still humming with desire, your mind racing with thoughts of what's to come. The lines between friendship and lust have been crossed, and there's no going back.
tags! @sturnstvs @gxldenlush @immattsslut @slut4chriss @stasiesturn @jetaimevous @solarsturniolo @watercolorskyy @thedarkqueenofavalon @meowira @secretagentspy @shadowthesim @baileysturns
love, paz<3
#paxi talks#paxi's stuff#matt sturniolo#chris sturniolo#nick sturniolo#matt sturniolo x reader#sturniolo triplets#christopher sturniolo#sturniolo imagine#chris sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo imagines#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo angst#matt sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo fanfiction#matt sturniolo gifs#matt sturniolo smut
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Lot 1096 PIQUE PANTS
こんにちは 名古屋店 コジャです。
以前御紹介したピケパンツ。 Blogでは先に入荷したIvoryのみの御案内でしたので、 本日は後日入荷したBLACKを。
WAREHOUSE & CO. Lot 1096 PIQUE PANTS \18.700-(with tax) ※ONE WASHは\1.100- UP
アイボリーの着用コーデと詳細は下記URLを御覧になって下さいね。 【Lot 1096 PIQUE PANTS IVORY Blog】 https://www.tumblr.com/warehouse-staff-blog/731212963807199232/lot-1096-pique-pants?source=share
今回はBLACKメインにIVORYも含め新入荷アイテムと共に着用画像をメインにお届けします。
173cm,60kg SIZE:33(ONE WASH)
179cm,69kg SIZE:34(ONE WASH)
予約の時点では【BLACK】に軍配が上がりましたが、 入荷してからは【IVORY】の猛追で同じくらいの人気度合い。
2色購入の方も多数いらっしゃいますよ~。 かくいう私も実は…σ(^◇^;)
黒の方が合わせやすいイメージでしたが白パンってかなり使い勝手良いですねぇ~。
今冬はピケパンの出現率が高めかと思いますので、 今後御紹介するアイテムと共に御参考下さい。
では失礼致します。
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WAREHOUSE名古屋店
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《2023.11.28.現在の営業時間》
【営業時間:平日 12時~19時、土日祝 12時~19時】水曜日定休
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a little less conversation, a little more action, please
[rings bell frantically] CALLING ALL PPL WHO HAD BAD SEX EXPERIENCES!!! if that’s you, this is for u :D ! this has been in the drafts 4 months and i’m excited to set it free! enjoy! 8k words, fem!reader, oral (f receiving) MDNI THIS ENTIRE BLOG IS 18+
You think you might be the only person your age in the whole of Hawkins who doesn’t seem to get the hype.
Couples have been caught all over in the act. At the drive-in cinema, in the back of the cinema, hell, even beneath the bleachers at school — tongues down each other's throats and pants around their ankles, so caught up in each other that they don’t care about consequences. That it’s that good, that it’s worth the risk.
Sex.
You just don’t get it.
Once upon a time, one boyfriend ago, before you’d ever experienced it, there had been an inkling of eagerness within you. Curiosity twined in with piqued interest, you wondered eagerly about when you’d find someone who’d show you all about why sex got its reputation.
And then you had it— with Samuel Cosgrove in his twin bed when his parents were out of town, 3 weeks into dating him. Your expectations crumbled.
You decided quickly that everyone must be lying if that was what you were supposed to be looking forward to. It wasn’t… sexy. You didn’t feel sexy having it either.
It only left you feeling somewhat awkward and a bit foolish, with Samuel trying to ruck your shirt up even though you had asked to keep it on. Embarrassment crept in easily at how you seemed to be half a step behind him the whole time, not quite warmed up, not quite sure if this was the mood, not quite ready to take all your clothes off.
The springs on his bed were loud and squeaked with every shift of weight. The whole thing sort of hurt more than anything.
You chalked it up to the first time, dredging together your hopes even as they rapidly deflated inside you, cemented by Samuel’s sloppy kiss that missed your mouth and landed wetly on the corner of your lips when he finished.
His sweat stuck to your skin and you didn’t feel sexy, or good, or relieved or anything else the dozen Cosmo magazines under your bed promised you would.
Next time, you said to yourself. You had even confided in your close friend, admitting to the underwhelming experience, and asked quite plainly when it ‘got good’.
“The first time always sucks!” She’d assured you, her voice a hushed whisper over the diner table.“Trust me, the first, like, three times totally suck.”
You didn’t mean to but, subconsciously, three became the number to reach— get through the first three terrible times, and… all would be peachy in paradise.
And so when the next time was… underwhelming, you weren’t exactly surprised. Worse, was how it wasn’t anything Samuel did but what he said that stuck with you long after he’d drifted off on your sheets. Lying in the cradle of your hips, Samuel had traced his hand up your legs and then frowned, yanking his hand back. You had startled, propping up quickly to ask him what it was.
“You’re spiky,” he said, chuckling in a mean way. You could feel your chest ache pathetically at his words and you instinctively tried to curl your legs in, wanting to hide them away. So what if they were? It was the middle of winter and he’d surprised you, showing up at your window to sneak in.
When the fourth time happened and disappointment weighed heavy on you again, you deduced the truth. Sex was some big scam- some stupid joke that everyone was in on and just pretending to enjoy.
It was easier to blame sex if only so you didn’t blame yourself. But… it niggles in the back of your brain, a line-up of indisputable facts that all point to the same thing. That, maybe sex isn’t the problem — but you are.
And, look, it’s not really a problem when you’re not dating or seeing anyone.
… Enter Steve Harrington.
Admittedly, Steve was not someone you thought you would ever date. Or maybe it was the other way around, that you thought that Steve would ever date you.
His reputation as a bit of a player was as far from something you were interested in, especially considering your feelings towards sex, but… he had sort of proven you wrong every chance possible.
One month of dates and it’s been no more than holding hands and kisses on cheeks. You’ve kissed him properly, of course, once or twice, but lest you give him the wrong idea, they hadn’t been much more than a quick kiss. Steve still seemed to glow afterward, no matter what.
It made you feel good. Safe. Warmed you to know he was happy with whatever affection you felt ready to bestow, and never pushed for more.
You could tell he wanted it. It was hidden in the flex of his fingers and even the not-so-subtle adjusting of his pants when he’d invited you over for a dip in his pool. You’d shown up in your bathing suit— and it was the most amount of skin Steve had ever seen from you and it did not go underappreciated. He had been touchy, hands skirting up your sides, but still respectful.
And strangely enough, you find yourself… wanting it too.
Wanting for his touch, thinking about letting your own hands wander across his skin to find what makes him sigh, makes him groan in pleasure, what might make him whine. It surprises you, the ferocity of your eagerness, how it presses your thighs together tightly and licks pure arousal up your spine — even when Steve’s not even trying.
(He was, you just didn’t know it. Steve knows exactly when girls seem to be looking at his arms and he’s unashamed to say he will flex his muscles and pretend he hasn’t. Robin has caught him doing this several times.)
And today has been nothing short of wonderful.
A balmy Saturday which you found yourself swept up in Steve’s company over at his house, laziness fuelled by the golden sun rays of the day.
You weren’t even doing anything in particular, just enjoying being near each other. You had stretched out on a pool lounger with a book in your hand for the most part and it was with giddy delight that Steve seemed more than chuffed to just lay beside you, sizzling in the sun and then occasionally cooling off in the pool.
Which is a spectacle all in itself.
The sight of his chest gives you one or two steamy ideas, especially as it drips with water when he pushes up on the edge of the pool. His biceps bulge deliciously as you peer over the edge of your book, not as subtlety as you might think. You honestly don’t even mind if he catches you staring, not when this is your view.
Your eyes trace the sparkling drops of water as they roll down his chest tantalizingly slow, through the chest hair between his pecs, down, down, trailing down his happy trail— fuck, okay, he totally caught you staring.
Your eyes dart back up to his face to find Steve’s already looking at you, his eyes holding a playful mirth to them. His smile looks just a little bit cheeky. Bastard.
Water splatters on the tiles where he walks as he pads over to collect his towel bunched on the end of the lounger beside your own.
“Good book?” He asks sweetly.
He says it as he scrubs the towel over his face, drying it off and then starting on his hair— he gives it a quick rub over rapidly so that when he pulls the towel away, his hair is sticking up in every direction. He holds the towel to his chest and gives his head a quick shake, like a dog, shaking out the extra water.
When he looks up at you again, beginning to towel dry his bare chest, you realise you haven’t even attempted to answer his question.
“Book.” You echo. Steve chuckles a little bit and it kickstarts your embarrassment, finally remembering to say something else. You hold the book up to gesture with it, “Yes! It’s good, it’s…”
Steve’s resumed drying himself and you find your words leaving you as the towel drags down his tummy, leading your eyes with it. Your mouth feels suspiciously dry. Want. You want him.
“It’s…?”
He’s teasing you again. You startle, wondering if he’s purposefully trying to put on a sensual towel-drying show for you. You’re surprised to find you’re actually glad that he is.
It feels like another subtle way to affirm all his affections for you without all of the touchiness you’ve yet to reach with him — come and get me, it’s like he’s saying, if you want.
You snap your book shut. “It’s too hot to be reading, I think.”
Steve frowns in his worry and steps forward, closer to you. He presses the back of his hand to your forehead lightly. “You feelin’ too warm? Y’gotta careful being out here too long if you aren’t gonna swim.”
He sounds on the concerned side but there’s a touch of cheek in his voice too, like he knows why you haven’t turned the page for the last 5 minutes. It stokes the firey feeling that’s beginning to burn in your gut. A smile curls at your lips and you huff a little laugh, leaning back and batting his hand away from your forehead.
“Yes, mom.” You jest, hand falling back onto the lounger. You lean back onto it to get a better view of him. “I’m not too hot.”
Steve grins. “Oh, I would say the opposite. You are, in fact,” He leans in closer, one hand coming up to push some hair behind your ear. His hand lingers, fingertips on the edge of your jaw. “Very hot.”
You couldn’t stop your reaction if you tried— which you do try, some sputtering cough with a duck of your head as you feel your body flush hotly at his words. His forwardness is something you’re still getting used to.
Just as you’re about to stumble through a poorly constructed sentence, Steve saves you— reaching over to grab his rumpled t-shirt and pulling it over his head. A small, disappointed, part of you wilts. You catch yourself from being so obvious, scooping up your bookmark and stuffing it in a random page.
Steve offers his hand out for you to take. “C’mon, we both need some water I think.”
You ponder if there’s a second meaning to his words as you trail along beside him, letting him lead you back through the sliding glass doors that open to the kitchen with your intertwined hands. Steve gives your hand a quick squeeze before he drops it to open the fridge, peering inside. You lean back against the counter, arms folding loosely over your front and allow yourself to look at him.
Your boyfriend. It sounds even a bit strange in your head and you know if you tried to say it aloud, it would get caught on the way out, tripping over your teeth. Calling him your boyfriend cements all those expectations you worry so much about… even though, not-so-secretly, you revel in the fact thats he’s your boyfriend.
“Thinking hard over there, I can see,” Steve comments teasingly and you blink, realising he’s already looking at you. He must have asked you a question and you missed it.
“What?”
Steve laughs a bit, pink lips pulled into a slight smirk. He shakes the bottle in his hands a little bit, bringing your attention to it. “Did you want to try some of this? I think it’s sparkling and…”
He trails off, pulling the bottle closer to his face to scan over the front of it. You can’t help but think the furrow in his brows as he reads is adorable. He hums, obviously not finding what he’s after, and flips the bottle over.
“…raspberry flavour?” He finishes, looking up at you, brows raised. He gives a little shrug. “That sound nice?”
You think about it for a moment and then shake your head. Steve laughs in agreement and places ii back in the fridge, some mumble about his mom leaving it here the last time she visited home. He turns back to the fridge still rummaging. “Okay, anything in particular you want?”
You are thirsty but… your stomach swoops as you realise it’s for something else altogether. If you want it though, you’ll have to ask.
“Maybe, a kiss?”
Steve freezes for an instant, then he whips around like he’s not entirely sure he’s heard correctly. The fridge door clatters loudly and he quickly grabs it, stopping the rattling bottles and looking mighty flushed when he shoots you a grin.
“A kiss?” He checks. He lets go of the fridge doors to scratch the back of his neck awkwardly, too aware of his own unsubtle eagerness. “I heard that right, didn’t I?”
A nervous chuckle scrapes out your throat but you nod. You uncross your arms but can’t settle them, crossing them again nervously as Steve comes closer. His brown eyes scan your face intently, searching to make sure he’s getting every signal right.
When you smile assuredly, Steve sighs in relief and his shoulders drop an inch. He smiles too, his hand reaching up to hold your faces cupping your cheek. His strokes across your cheekbone as he talks. “Oh, thank god. I was beginning to think, maybe, you just weren’t into kissing me.”
Then he leans in— and you hold your breath without meaning to.
The thing is, Steve is a good kisser. A very very good kisser and even your strange gaspy noise as you try to remember to breathe is not enough to ruin the kiss. His plush lips capture yours and have you feeling as hot as the day, a heat blooming in your chest and spreading like wildfire. Your fingers flex at your sides.
You push up on your toes without even thinking, to steal more of his touch, and when Steve breaks the kiss, you’re embarrassed to find yourself chasing his lips. You clear your throat and avert your eyes, sinking back down— embarrassed at showing how much you’d melted under a single kiss.
You just don’t realise how it looks to Steve.
“You do… right?”
Your head pops up, eyes widening as you try to comprehend his question.
“Like… kissing you?” You ask meekly, more embarrassed that he’s asking for confirmation. Embarrassed that you’d somehow been overly eager and also convinced him of the opposite in one kiss. God, maybe there is something wrong with you.
“Yeah.” Steve nods, pulling back a little further from you— like he needs physical space in case you say something absurd like ‘no.’
Your hands react faster than your mind, reaching to grab his shoulders to stop him from putting space between you.
“Yes!” You say loudly. You try to rein in your embarrassment for his sake, swallowing your nerves which feel thick and swollen in your throat. “Yes, I like kissing you. It’s just, I’m… I’m worried.”
How do you say this? How can you explain that you’ve been so afraid of your kisses going a few steps further because then- then when things get heated and Steve’s expecting things, you have to explain that — that what?
That you’re not really sure if you even like sex, or maybe that it just doesn’t seem to work for you or — or that there’s probably just something wrong with you that means you can’t figure out how the hell to relax and enjoy sex- and that it’s not his fault but probably totally yours but—
“Woah, woah, woah,” Steve cuts into your spiralling thoughts, having seen the dilemma spilled across your face. “Stop thinking what you’re thinking and just, like, take a breather.”
He places his hand on his chest and mimes a deep inhale. You copy him without thinking, chest rising and falling in sync with his, unable to look at him for a moment. When you find the courage to dredge your eyes up to his face, his eyes are soft and his brows have knitted together in concern.
“Good.” He praises, hand falling off his chest to rub gently at your arm. “Okay, now instead of doing all that worrying up there just… tell me what’s worrying you. Please?”
Part of you want to huff and hide, to make him really pry so you know that he means it. It’s dramatic, you know — especially because he’s being so good at communicating. He’s asked outright. You try to put the words in the correct order.
“Just… we haven’t— I haven’t kissed you a lot because I’m worried about what it might lead to.” You say quietly, eyes back to avoiding his gaze. You stare at his chest, the tuft of chest hair peeking out, and do your best to swallow the knot in your throat.
“And I— I don’t want to disappoint you,” you admit, frustrated at how a familiar sting burns at the back of your eyes. “But I- just, in the times I’ve gone that far and— and slept with someone, I didn’t… I just didn’t like it. I didn’t enjoy it.”
You squeeze your eyes shut tight, proclamation out in the open, and try to take a deep breath— just like Steve had instructed mere moments ago. Courage gathered, you open your eyes and peer up at him again.
“Oh,” Steve breathes. You can nearly see the cogs turning in his head, his eyebrows twitching as he takes in what you’ve said and what it means for the two of you. “Oh, well that’s okay. I mean, if you didn’t want to I would never—“
“—That’s not the thing.” You interrupt. “I want to. I do. I just…” Your voice trails off, taking on a trembling whisper as you say the thing you’ve yet to say aloud yet, for fear of speaking it into existence. You can’t quite look at him, eyes focused on the kitchen tiles instead.
“I think it’s me. I think— I’m worried there’s something wrong with me.”
Your words hang in the air for a moment and Steve feels his worry shift into something deeper, something closer to devastation, as he realises how deeply you believe what you’ve said.
You genuinely think there is— even thinking it makes him want to scoff aloud. He forces himself to focus on consoling you here and now, instead of riling himself up with thoughts of whatever— whoever lead you to your immense self-doubt.
“Well, there’s not,” Steve says plainly. Like there’s no room for discussion— his hand drifting down your arm to gather your hands in his own. They get swallowed, his hands huge when compared to your own.
“There’s nothing wrong— you- you could never disappoint me in that way.”
Your eyes lift from the ground to his face, desperate to see if you can see the truth in his words. He can tell- fuck, he can already read you so well.
“Honest,” He insists, giving your hands a quick squeeze. “I promise you, okay? I- if I was disappointed over something like that it would be- that would be such a dick move.”
“Well, you wouldn’t be the first.” You mutter bitterly.
The words slip out without entirely meaning to; you aren’t trying to start a pity party but how are you supposed to explain why you think the way you do? How can you explain why you’re so worried about taking it further? Deep down, you know he deserves to know.
Steve’s eyes widen for a moment, your words sinking in and cutting as they go. He doesn’t want to think about you sleeping with other people, for all the jealous reasons, but mainly because everything he’s learned today is that nobody has taken proper care of you.
It twists his heart thinking of some fucking idiot not taking his time with you, not getting you comfortable— so that you get to this point, embarrassed, avoiding his eyes, and so entirely convinced that you’re the problem.
“Look,” Steve says softly. His hands squeeze yours again and he tries to think of how best to say this. “If we never sleep together, I don’t care.”
That catches your attention, your head jerking up to look at him — what? That has never even been an option with dating someone. Not in your mind, at least. You find yourself reeling, fumbling for words but Steve just keeps talking.
“If you don’t wanna, I don’t wanna,” Steve shrugs, like that’s all there is to it.
“There’s nothing wrong if it’s not really your thing.” Another squeeze to your hands. You look up at him, aware you must look a picture of bewildered — there were a thousand ways you imagined this conversation going and this was not one of them.
A smile pulls on his lips as he chuckles a bit, eyes falling to your conjoined hands. “Hell, for all we know I’d add to your disappointing experiences.”
You laugh quietly but it’s saturated in fondness. He’s taking jabs at himself to make you feel better.
“Hardly likely, considering the rumours I’ve heard about you,” You murmur lowly. You find it in yourself to squeeze his hands back, peering back up at him. Steve’s brows rise and he grins.
“Oh? And just what rumours are we talking about?” He teases.
“Shut up,” You say, no heat behind it in the slightest. Your chest is starting to feel lighter and lighter as the reality of his words sink in. “You know what they say about you.”
Steve grins wider. “That I slept with Mrs. Click just to pass her class?”
“What?” You wrinkle your nose at the horrid picture of your old English teacher with your boyfriend. “No! Did people really say that about you?”
Steve’s grin fades, edging towards jaded. He gives a soft sigh, tilting his head back an inch. “People say everything and it all means nothing unless it’s coming from the right person.”
He wriggles a hand free from your unaware tightening holding to brush his knuckles against your cheek tenderly. A piece of hair flops over his forehead, curling back upwards, and the buzz of cicadas fills the empty noise around you.
“So, I don’t know if some asshole told you or you just think that you’re wrong, but…” Steve inhales, his eyes darting between yours.
The brown in them is intense, holding you fixed beneath his heavy gaze. “If— just you said you want to so, we can try and- and we can go slow and I’ll stop the moment you want to, okay? For whatever reason.”
You feel a strange bubble of hope churn in your gut. It feels too good to be true.
“…You’re sure?”
“M’sure,” Steve nods. “Even for something as small as you don’t like the way my dick looks or—“
A laugh startles out of you and you shake your head. “I meant more about stopping but good to know anyways.” You pause a moment. “…Should I be worried?”
You’re teasing. Steve delights in it, his own voice slipping that little bit lower— his knuckles on your cheek swiping across, down your jaw, til he lingers near your neck.
“Why don’t you find out?”
The hunger in your tummy returns with a new heat, rivalling the day. You suddenly feel nervous again, a roll of nerves turning over, but this time it feels far closer to anticipation. The kiss you’ve been yearning to give him, hot and messy, burns up inside you and when you rise on your toes, Steve meets you in the middle.
Your lower back presses against the counter as Steve leans into you, his mouth slotted against yours. One kiss snowballs into another, and another, the fervency growing as you let yourself give into your desire. Your hands on his shoulders shift, trailing down to feel up the chest you’ve been gawking at all day.
Steve lets out a quiet grunt as your nails dig in and his other hand finds your waist, tugging you to press against his body — his other hand slides into your hair, clutching the strands loosely. You sigh into his mouth, nerves still alight beneath your skin but the way they buzz makes you feel good. Steve makes you feel good.
Right as his hand scrapes along your lower back, heading lower, you’re both startled by the loud beep! that sounds in the kitchen. At the same time you peer around him, Steve turns and gives a sheepish chuckle, seeing the fridge door still ajar from when he’d been fishing around inside.
He steps away from you, pushing the doors closed gently. Turning back, your chest swells with pride seeing the effect you’re already having on him; red lips, shiny with spit and a faint ruby colour in the apples of his cheeks. Steve smiles, boyish and charming.
“Do you wanna keep—“
“—yes.”
You’re not going to squander this chance, not going to waste the days' chemistry when there’s still that tiny worry niggling in the back of your brain that today is all a fluke. That Steve’s words might just be an offer, something else that wouldn’t be a first for you.
Steve grins. He holds out his hand and you intertwine yours with him, letting him lead you. Your stomach swoops as he takes you out the kitchen and heads for the stairs, checking back on you with a quick glimpse. You do your best to show him your excitement instead of your nerves. You’re not sure you succeed.
Squeezing his hand does the trick for a final reassurance. Steve resumes leading you up the stairs, taking a familiar turn towards his bedroom, beginning to talk softly as he does.
“Remember, anytime, anything you don’t like, just say the word.”
You both pause, standing in his room and you swallow the doubts that try to claw back up your throat. Giving a sly glance at him, you smile coyly and wiggle your hand out from his. Trailing backwards to his bed, you pretend to think about it, til your thighs hit the edge of the bed.
“Hmm… well,” You begin, a touch of sultriness dipping into your voice. “I don’t like… that you’re still wearing your shirt.”
Before you, Steve huffs a silent laugh, that handsome smile gracing his lips as he ducks his head. He doesn’t disappoint though, his arms reaching up behind his head to shuck his shirt off in one fluid motion.
He chucks it aside thoughtlessly and where it lands doesn’t even matter — your eyes are fixed on his chest. His bare chest that you’ve been given permission to properly ogle at. You swear you feel your mouth salivate a bit.
“Should've known this would go first, considering the way you were drooling outside,” Steve remarks cockily, folding his arms loosely. It makes his biceps bulge and you swallow again, this time nothing to do with nerves.
“I wasn’t drooling,” You defend weakly, beginning to fidget with the hem of your own shirt. “I was admiring, okay? There’s a difference.”
Steve saunters over slowly as you talk, steps slow and measured. He’s smirking by the time he’s before you, so close you can feel the heat of him. “Uh huh. Totally, sweetheart, I believe you. Need help with this?”
His hand has reached out, fingers pinching the same hem you’re fiddling with. You nod slowly, “Yes, please.”
Steve’s smirk fades into something sweeter and he grabs the hem with two hands, beginning to ruck it up gently, his eyes locked on yours — you raise your arms when it starts to get caught, holding your gaze to his until the fabric intersects. Your arms drop and you push away the urge to wrap them around your middle.
Steve drops your shirt much more gently than his own but his eyes are still entirely on you. There’s a shine of awe in them now, flicking up at down the newly exposed skin.
The intensity of his gaze makes you want to shy away but you chose bravery instead, reaching out to grab his side. Steve jumps, barely an inch, and before you even get a chance to question, he’s smiling. “Y’got cold hands, honey.”
He draws them up to his mouth, laying soft kisses across your knuckles. Heat flushes through you and you melt beneath it, lowering yourself back on the bed. Steve follows eagerly, still kissing at your hands. He kneels between your legs and when he finally drops your hands from his, it’s to reach out and cup your jaw.
“Keep breathing,” He murmurs quietly, eyes dancing in amusement. You hadn’t even realise you had been holding your breath. You realise it in one big exhale and this time, when you reach for him, you actually succeed in tugging him closer. You tumble backward into his sheets and Steve comes with you, his forearms planted on either side of you and his body pressed up against yours.
“I don’t like…” You say, continuing the bit from earlier, your voice quiet and still tinged with a poorly hidden nervousness. “That you keep waiting to kiss me.”
Steve’s brows hike up an inch but his smile hides his surprise easily, his entire face glowing a bit brighter. He looks fucking gorgeous bathed in the buttery sunlight, even though it’s just beginning to fade towards darkness behind the curtains.
You stare unabashedly up at him, marvelling at his features that are etched in with adoration for you. You follow down the strong line of his nose, along the soft arches in his eyebrows, the faint wrinkles at the corners of his eyes that he has from smiling.
You study the swell of his cupids bow perched above his pink lips and each of the moles dotted all over your favourite face— and think to yourself it’s not fucking fair that he looks like this. Like he’s been carved from marble and cast in gold.
Thank God he’s yours.
He doesn’t disappoint you — his lips finding yours and kissing you deeply, his chest brushing your own. Your entire body seems to sigh at the touch, tingling with anticipation — you’ve been overdue for all these kisses for far too long and it seems once you’ve gotten started, it feels impossible to stop.
You kiss needily, your hands moving off his midriff to drift up to his jawline. You cradle it gently, your lips a little less gentle- you try to remember how to do this, how to nip at his lips teasingly, how to soothe them with your tongue.
Slowly, Steve’s body weight lowers onto you as he focuses more and more on figuring out what you seem to like. Time melts like candle wax and you feel as goopy as it too, all warm and pliable, softened by his kisses. Heat begins to simmer in your gut. You don’t know how long you’ve been kissing when Steve pulls away, his mouth cherry red and his face flushed.
His fingers slip beneath the strap of your bra, toying with it but nothing more. He checks over your face as he asks, “Wanna take this off?”
You nod, breathlessly. Up til now, it’s been easy to turn off your brain and let all your thoughts revolve around getting kissed absolutely stupid by Steve.
But as his hands work deftly beneath you, unclipping the strap of your bra and beginning to tug it down, you feel the first worry creep in — this is usually when your panties follow, then his boxers, and then the expectations. Even with all your enjoyment, you know that if he tries now, you won’t be ready.
Frustration bubbles up in your chest, mingling with your insecurity and you squirm a bit, trying to think of how to tell Steve without disappointing him.
You’re so sick of disappointing people for something you can’t seem to help.
Steve notices your squirming. His head shoots up to meet your gaze, a furrow back in his brow. “Hey, hey, what’s goin’ on?”
“I…” Words die on your tongue easily, a war happening inside your throat as you debate what to say. You like him— you really like him and don’t want this to end and… he told you he wants you to tell the truth.
“I don’t… I’m not—“ Your whisper climbs in volume alongside your frustration. “Steve, this isn’t working.”
The wrinkle between his brow deepens and it’s not a comforting sight. Steve shifts a bit, his hand moving from the straps of your bra up to your face. He pushes back a few stray locks of hair, eyes sincere.
“Not working?” He murmurs, “Baby, we’ve only just started.”
You blink up at him once, twice. Your mouth opens and then closes again.
You know that but you also know how this goes. Well, you think you know— so why do you suddenly feel so foolish?
“Oh.” You say shyly. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip and try to ignore feeling like you’ve just ruined the mood.
Steve takes it all in his stride, nothing but a twitch in his furrows brows as he takes in your embarrassed expression. He leans down, and kisses your neck, then your collarbone. His lips trail down, down, slow and sensual. Your bra scraps down your arms, tossed aside absentmindedly.
“Sweet girl,” he whispers into your skin. “I’m so sorry.”
“Sorry?” You echo, a bit breathier as Steve's kisses scrape down your breast. Your nipples peak to attention.
“Mhm,” he hums, his lips wrapping around your nipple and sucking— his hands paw greedily at your back which arches eagerly into his kisses. Steve drags his mouth off, beginning to mouth softly down your breast til his plush lips kiss at your sternum.
“M’sorry that nobody has ever taken care of you before.”
You squirm beneath him at his words, a warm flush washing through your body as desire spins up inside you. Steve continues as if he hasn’t turned your whole view inside-out— his hand shifting up to thumb at your nipple as he takes your nipple back between his lips.
“Steve…” you sigh out.
He’s kneading your body in just the right way, the sensitivity of your chest fuelling the pool of heat growing deep in your stomach. You feel your thighs clench together, hips shifting up instinctively. You haven’t been touched like this before and fuck, it’s a lot.
“I know, honey.” He says lowly, voice muffled against your skin. He suckles at your nipple and just nips at it, a flash of teeth, enough to make you arch further. Your eyes slip shut and you push your chest further out.
To your disappointment, Steve pulls back instead. Your eyes open, neck craning to look at him, your chest rising and falling with your heavy breaths.
“Y’tell me if there’s anything you don’t like, alright?”
Somehow, the heat in your gut flares that much hotter — knowing that there’s love behind every motion. You scramble for threads of courage and hold them tightly. Then you bend your legs until you can slide them around his waist, ankles crossing and tugging him closer. His cock, straining in his pants, presses flush against your core, and at the same time you inhale, Steve stutters out a groan.
“I’ll tell you.” You say, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip to hold back your grin. It melts away as Steve shifts against you purposefully, one of his hands dropping to hold your hip. The hard length of him grinds against your cunt, catching the angle of your clit in a way that makes you mewl beneath him.
Steve kisses your breast again but your hands are already reaching for him— fingers cupping his jaw to tug him up. Your lips capture his and this time, when he rolls his hips into yours, the soft noise you make is swallowed in his kiss. It’s fervent, your kisses gaining speed and mess. You tighten your ankles and experiment with your grind and are rewarded with a jagged moan from Steve.
Faintly, you consider how it makes a little more sense now. That all those desperate motions of making out, rutting against each other, hot open-mouth kisses— fuck, if it was always like this, you get it. You feel like you’re on fire.
A breeze flutters the curtains across the room, the only indication of time outside your little bubble. It’s far too easy to get lost in the motions— building up your lust until you’re sure the cotton between your legs is soaked through. It feels silly but god, even though you knew this was one of the things making all those past times so terrible, you had just assumed that’s how it would always be.
The stickiness feels vulgar, your cunt pulsating with heat like you’ve never felt before. It just makes it all feel better though— the warm, hard heat of Steve’s cock, fitting snug between your folds.
A pause in the makeout to catch your breath. You’re huffing wildly and Steve takes the moment of his undistracted attention to focus on the shorts you’re wearing. He doesn’t ask verbally this time but as he hooks his fingers beneath the waistband, his eyes flash up to yours in question.
You wiggle your hips and Steve takes his cue, the fabric scraping against your skin as it slides down, down, down. To your surprise, Steve goes with them. He gets halfway down the bed, his head aligned with your belly, hands kneading at the flesh of your boobs before he halts.
“I wanna try something,” He says, looking up at you. He dots a quick kiss onto your skin as he does, not breaking eye contact. “And I think you’re gonna really love it.”
He drags out the word really, his voice low enough that it rumbles, nearly a purr.
“It involves a little bit of this.” He murmurs, pressing a kiss into your navel. He kisses nice and slow, the plushness of his lips scraping across the stretch of skin.
You shiver a little, feeling how your thighs part instinctively and Steve smiles wickedly, seeing the motion.
“A little—“ He travels further down, his hands sliding to hold the outside of your thighs. He grips the skin and urges it to spread wider— then takes a greedy fat lick along your inner thigh. “—of this.”
You squirm. It’s unnerving in the best way, having someone so dedicated to making you feel good— but Steve’s face betrays no hint of insincerity. In fact, if you had to guess, you’d say he even looks excited.
His large tan hands cover your hips, slender fingers curved atop your thighs to keep them pried open. You’re expecting the next question to be getting the final scrap of clothing off you— a mixture of nerves and excitement at the vulnerability that comes with taking them off.
He doesn’t though. Drawing a line with the tip of his nose, he nuzzles down from the inside of your knee to your thigh, the warmth of his breath fanning across sensitive skin. He kisses your cunt, once, soft. You twitch, a sweet noise pushing past your lips.
Steve does it again. This time, his lips part and you feel his tongue press through the soaked cotton of your panties — he kisses again, harder, moving over your clit with his tongue. This time you moan and feel your hips tip up to chase his mouth, surprising yourself.
Fuck, when have you ever been this wet before? The cotton between your legs is sticky and it only gets messier with Steve’s every lick. The duvet crinkles beneath you as you sigh and sink into it, the low throb of pleasure curling up in your gut.
“Steve,” you sigh his name like it’s a prayer.
He hums against your core, his fingers gliding beneath the elastic of your panties but not pulling them down just yet. His hot mouth drops lower, his nose pressing into you at the perfect angle. Your breathy exhale is lilted with moans.
“See?” He murmurs, so low you nearly don’t hear him.
“S’Nothing wrong with you, sweetheart. Y’just needed…“ His fingers grip your panties and begin to pull and you aid him quickly with a lift of your hips. “…someone to take a little more care with you.”
Any fear of vulnerability is whirled far away; you need his mouth back on you, like, yesterday. Especially when Steve groans. Like the sight of your glistening cunt is enough to make his cock ache. Your tummy heats further at the thought.
His hands re-situate, soothing up to your tummy before sliding back down to grasp the tops of your thighs again. He pulls them open wider.
Pure fire streaks through your nerves, a sweltering pleasurable burn twisting in your gut as Steve’s tongue licks through your folds in one bold stroke. Your hips try to twitch forward but his hands are already there, holding them down.
There’s one more pause, one soft curse of adoration, as his nose nuzzles along the soft skin of your inner thigh. You feel unbearably warm in his sheets, heat pulsating and dancing beneath your skin.
“Steve,” you whisper his name again, urging him gently. “Please.”
“I got you,” He murmurs in response. “You don’t gotta say please with me,” He hums lowly, then kisses right on your clit, languid and warm, his tongue swirling around it deftly. You cry out softly.
He drags his mouth off you and if you looked down, you’d see the soft sheen of your slick on his rosy lips. “I wanna give you everything you want.”
You gasp as he finally puts his mouth on you properly, pleasure dribbling through your core as he suckles on your clit. He’s killer with his tongue, twisting it and flattening it against your bud in a way that has you squirming. The sheets scrunch in your frenzied grip.
For the first time, you understand why pornos even sound like that— taking a moment to realise the whiney gaspy noise you’re hearing is coming from you.
“Oh god,” You whine prettily. “That’s— uh— fuck, that’s really good.”
Between your thighs, you hear and feel the moan Steve gives back. Your thighs are twitching, torn between trying to keep them apart or warm your boyfriend's ears. Your hips are moving, subtle grinds up into Steve’s face and he takes it all appreciatively. He sucks and slurps, tongue dragging down your folds to toy at your clenching hole— making you squeal.
“Fuck,” he rasps, pulling back for a moment. His voice is doused in arousal. “You’re so wet.”
Heat plumes low in your tummy as he dives back in, a groan echoing from his throat. The coil in your gut tightens, winding tighter and tighter. Your chest heaves as your voice melts away until everything you say is a whimpery little “yes, yes, yes,” and Steve’s name.
His huge hands are still pressing your thighs apart but one shifts suddenly, barely noticeable in your mounting euphoria, until it’s tapping at your hand fisted in the sheets.
You lift your head, confused, and peer down at him.
It’s a mistake. His hand is resting on the bed in front of your own, propped up and fingers spread. It's clear he wants to hold your hand. Chest heaving and still lightly moaning, your eyes dart from his hand to his face — and that’s the mistake.
He’s fucking beautiful. Hair mussed, rosy-cheeked, and dark-eyed, Steve can only hold eye contact for a moment before his eyelids slip shut as he moans against your cunt. Fire blooms under your skin, coil turned tighter and together. He wants to hold your hand. Your fingers just manage to tangle with Steve’s, holding tight, as you tip over the edge with a cry.
It’s intense — jagged waves of pleasure that ride through every nerve in your body and have you nearly overwhelmed with how fucking good it feels. Incoherent babbling whines pour from your mouth. Your thighs lock up, beating Steve’s strong hold now that he’s down to just one hand, and close around his head. He moans in response, his tongue never letting up, licking and sucking at your cunt fervently.
And he holds your hand the whole way through.
You feel thoroughly flattened by the time your orgasm tapers off, your legs relaxing and flopping tiredly against the bed. Vaguely, you’re aware you should apologise for likely cutting off his oxygen flow for a good couple of seconds there but you’re too out of breath yourself to do so.
Your chest rises and falls and a sweet contentment settles into your skin. You feel happy, loved. Without meaning to, an awed laugh titters out of you.
Then another, and another. You can’t seem to stop laughing, a gleeful silly joy as you release his hand to bury your face in your own.
“Holy shit,” you whisper to yourself. Then, slightly louder. “Holy shit, Steve.”
You hear him laugh and the sheets crinkle — and then he’s in your field of vision, hovering over you with an adoring grin on his face. His lips are still so pink and there’s a shine on his chin. He wipes it away absentmindedly, focused on you.
“I take it you enjoyed yourself?” He says, genuine and not at all cocky. He settles down, one arm on either side of your chest. One of his hands sweeps over your face sweetly.
You nod, tucking your bottom lip behind your teeth to constrain your grin.
“Uh huh,” you say, voice all gooey. “I didn’t—“
You pause. “I thought— and then you— and Oh my Goddd.” You cover your face with your hands again, groaning exaggeratedly as you try to roll over and melt away into his bed sheets.
“See? I told you it wasn’t you,” Steve says, peppering little kisses where he can reach. He kisses your shoulder, along the side of your face. He coaxes you out gently, pressing your shoulder to roll you onto your back. You face him properly.
“There is nothing wrong with you.” He reminds you. You’ve never been so happy to be wrong. You nod, hair scrunching against the pillow behind you.
“Okay,” You say, with a small smile, finally believing it. “There’s nothing wrong with me.”
Steve’s stare is glowing with fondness and the next moment, he’s lurching forward to press his mouth to yours. You kiss back greedily and lazily all at once.
He pulls back and you hate how the thought comes to you, unbidden; the smallest wrinkle creasing between your brows.
“But,” You begin, voice small. “That wasn’t sex though.”
Steve’s head tilts an inch, like an adorably confused puppy. “What do you mean? That was sex.”
“What? That was— that was like second base.”
Steve huffs a laugh, though not directed at you. His gaze shifts above your head as he chooses his words. “Uhh, sure, if we were still in high school. But even then, that’s still sex. We just had some sex.”
Stating it so plainly, you can’t help how it makes you giggle a bit. Steve rolls his eyes, even though you can tell he’s entirely endeared.
“We just had sex,” You repeat his words, eyes bright and grin growing. “And I really enjoyed it.”
Steve laughs loudly and steals a quick kiss from you. Holding up his hand, he wiggles his eyebrows at you. “Just had sex high-five?” He jokes.
You slap your hand against his anyways, twisting your fingers to hold onto his hand as you let them fall to the bed. Steve beams, cuddling in closer, the tip of his nose nuzzling against your own.
Turns out, you might be starting to get the whole big deal around sex after all.
#uhm. basically don’t read into this#who minds a little (or a whooooole lot) of projection!#not me! :D#🧌…. part two?#steve harrington smut#steve x reader#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x reader smut#steve harrington x you#steve x you#steve x reader smut#steve harrington#jay writes
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Clandestine
Pairing: NewJeans’ Danielle x Male Reader
Word Count: 6,000
A/N: Hello Orenjideul! This is probably the last fic I'll be writing and releasing this year because I'm getting occupied with my own endeavors. This is purely 97% a BFH fic because this Dani look is killing me.................. (god, that waist) Enjoy reading it! <3
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“Try and keep it secretive, please.”
Those words define what’s the goal—mouths shut, all within yourselves.
You’ve been living your life on the edge, playing with fire and Danielle is the gasoline that keeps igniting it and it piques you, delving for more. It’s scary, outrageous to the very least but in the greater perspective, it’s blissful and fun and that’s what matters at the end of the day.
Try, like what’s stated. It’s ultimately the goal and you’d revolve around that single word every damn time.
You have a reputation to protect, and it’s all in the means of Danielle because a single mistake can bear a scarring loss, because she has everything to lose and you’re to blame if it were to happen (the latter is speaking in hypothetical terms).
“Can’t wait, hm?” Your eyes gaze towards her, plastering a faint smile as you continue to pepper her neck with kisses that felt too euphoric on Danielle’s end.
“Ahh—how can I wait?” Her moans bless your ear, and you absolutely take that as an affirmative with her delight. She knows on herself that you’re insatiable and she hates it—temptation breaking as the both of you are speaking, and she’s feeling every ounce of your energy all over her skin.
Her hands roam around your body, feeling your kisses get herself acting up and writhing under your control. You turn, tilt her chin to face you and all you can see is a visage worth an awe. “You’re so goddamn pretty, Dani.”
These compliments just ignited the utter bliss she feels, lips curling into a smile of sincerity adding up to her impeccable beauty that no one can rival. You rest your nose onto her neck, then peppering it all over again as your hands handle her with care and the absolute ambition to let her know how much you adore her.
“You—you’re kissing me so, so good…” Danielle’s accent is candy to your ears, and you’re just replying with more intimacy. Her hands find the hem of your shirt, dexterous fingers lifting it as her primal instincts kick in until your hands hinders her advances.
Danielle whimpers, a hot breath brushing against your ear as you locked eyes onto hers. “Not yet, Dani.”
A visible pout by your sunshine, and immediately, you’re captivated but not enough to break the façade. “B-But why? Oh…”
Patience is what she needs, and as selfish as this sounds, your needs would be the priority for fulfillment.
Like what’s stated at the beginning you’ve been living at the edge with her and thankfully, there’s no instance enough to bear such a result that would crumble a reputation. It’s just not helping where you’d be damned to live if ever Hanni catches you with such mess with Danielle and it’s doubled down with Minji—you’d be gone for good, that’s for sure, but Danielle has this hold against them that wouldn’t let you go and stick this risky relationship that could bear a scarring demise.
But who cares about that now? Not when her figure is all for your eyes to drool upon, in full display with her pants and that shirt curled into a crop top unleashing something within you—she looks unreal, sculpted to perfection as the outfit accentuates her undying hotness, a gift for you to admire and lastly, savor.
Your hands roam around that tiny waist of hers, abs flexing with your enervating touch that earns faint, sultry moans escaping her lips. You caress it and she continues her vocalization, ceaseless with your aims of adoring every inch.
“God, this fit—” Your power was evident, pulling her towards you as she gasped with your domination, and then smiled as she anticipated. “—is insane. I never thought you could be any hotter.”
It’s true, factual even, because numerous people would agree to you on how hot she looks with these kinds of fits. It does help knowing how she’s cognizant to push your buttons, and with just the tip of the iceberg, you melt and those eyes of yours tell a story.
“I knew you’d love this.” Danielle’s expressions smoulders a little, her face contorting confidence as she knows how she’s your kryptonite, and it’s mutual—even if it’s ego-driven, you can’t deny the fact that she’s alluring and you love her confidence because she knows she’s fucking hot.
You’ve seen multiple cases on the Internet, ever-so-liked within the people in various social media platforms sharing Danielle’s impeccable figure and the raises alongside it. You’re glad you’re in the first row of her show, always hitting and selfish because it’s all for you eyes to see—only you. Her fragrant smell hypnotizes you and it’s effective, luring you in and investing in more efforts into worshiping her. Kisses, suckles and licks is her threshold, currently shivering with the pleasure you give her as her ragged moans are enough for a conclusion.
“God—please, stop…” You stop once she calls your name again, hoarse, feeling that she can’t possibly handle the way you’re treating her—you assume she’s more sensitive with you and nothing else. You’re visibly puzzled, lingering that assumption within you as you’re vocal enough to address her sudden words to feed off against her needs.
“Anything wrong, Dani?”
“I—” Her lips are quivering, hands fiddling the hem of her shirt as her doe eyes invite you to listen, and you're all ears for that. “—want this.”
You know where she’s going with this as her hands run down to your pants and near the vicinity of your nether regions and god, her fingers alone would make your beast stand up in vigor. Your hands hold hers, guiding her through the zipper as your other hand finds its way onto the valet of her curves, teasing the skin of her spine that’s enough to make her release a dulcet moan towards your lips. “How do you want it, hm?”
Your voice is alluring, predominantly teasing as the last hm signifies your interest. Danielle just moans with your repeated touches, and she’s barely coherent and mostly mumbling, what more if you're going a level further? “Can’t quite hear you, baby.”
You’re now pinning her against the wall, you weight pressing against her slightly as you eyes then face her and begged, “Just kiss me first, please.”
That please of hers was so lovely and sincere you can’t afford to lose this opportunity. You were surprised with Danielle’s initiative, cupping your cheeks as she pulled you in for a kiss and you quickly reciprocated. The sloppy sounds and the sultry moans escaping your lips signals the deprivation, and it’s all fulfilling every second that passes.
Her lips are soft and you won’t get exhausted kissing those all day, even if it means your own lips to be numb. It’s sweet and hers is torrid, the exchange heating up the permeated humidity she exuded just by herself and she’s just igniting it all throughout.
“Kissing me so good, Dani…”
“Can’t blame that you taste great.” Danielle spits the truth, her lips curling up on a smirk as she bites her lip, currently in this state of need and her face alone just lit the fire inside your heart. “Now I need this.”
She cups the apparent bulge, visibly poking onto the fabric of your pants as her daring advancements makes you utter a faint moan in which she chuckled, a victory in her possession.
“Getting too bold, are we?” It’s straightforward and lustful, and definitely, you like it.
You’re not going to introduce the necessities for foreplay and more, and with the lust growing inside you that’s matching hers, you’ll let her do what she’s great at and with a single command, reply with immediate compliance. “Drop down to your knees, baby.”
It felt like her knees faltered, dropping down with a thud onto the cold floor as her hands then found its way onto the edge of your pants, tugging them and licking her lips in anticipation. Now loosened up, she pulls them down and lets gravity do the work, making a puddle of your clothing onto your ankles. She’ll steal glances towards you while working her wonders, and the contradicting natures of the sight just below your waist sends you into overdrive—her gleeful yet seductive smile covers up to the sins that he’s about to do, and it’s aligning all too well.
“God, I’ve never done this for a while…” Danielle’s tone permeates that self-doubt since it’s factual, marking maybe months until she’d indulged herself into something like this and it doesn’t help with the group’s busy schedules and everything that’s making their time occupied prior to this.
You tilt her head, facing towards you as her eyes meet yours, and you reassure her. “You’re a natural, Dani—besides, just let yourself be what you are.”
Let herself be, and ultimately, she knows that it’s always what she is in situations like this. Letting the doubt aside and her hunger to take over, she impatiently yanked your boxers down, joining it onto the puddle of worthless clothing down to your ankles. Danielle’s eyes glimmer with that lingering captivation as soon as the beat inside you unshackles from its clothed prison, almost hitting her in the face as it stands tall and stiff, waiting for her touch to enchant it.
She coos, hot breath within that reddish crown and you moan because of it. “Still a-as monstrous as I remembered.”
The teases probably get into you (even though her tone laces with sincerity), uttering a laugh as her lips part, a pout on display, gently kissing the leaking slit and her hands roaming around your base and onto those balls she always loves to taste. Of course, the sunshine descends down into the darkest sins, carnally worshiping your cock with an eager suck to collect that liquid you’re leaking and the profound spit that she lathers all around your length. You doesn’t leave any inch untouched with her lips and sheathed with her saliva, as her attention averts down to your balls and plays with it, her hands pumping you with a leisure pace that’s enough to wring that pleasure you’re always seeking.
“Looking great so far?” Your legs are probably viable to give out, knees shuddering as her touch sends you into the abyss of gratification. She knows the answer to such a rhetorical question, living up with the compliment you withdrew earlier and it’s factual, she's naturally skilled. “You know the answer to that, Dani—fuck…”
She replies with her tongue now dancing around your throbbing cock, her snug mouth encapsulating half of your length as she eagerly bobbed, up and down, and no stopping. Your hand finds its way onto her messy bun, tied upright with a clip and you could just let yourself feel every ounce of pleasure being brought by Danielle.
It was hurried, ephemerally increasing the pace as her mouth gets messier, her own saliva seeping out of her mouth supports the fact. You kept moaning and it invigorates her for more, until she knows she;s approaching her limit.
She gagged and immediately pulled out, and your mouth just showered her with compliments and those eyes of her shine with your approval. “You’re incredibly gifted, god…”
“Can’t help it tastes really, really good, daddy.” The name, the word, god, she knows what buttons to push against you.
She always does, in most cases and you’re here to indulge with the fact that she’s controlling you slowly. You would give in to her dominant nature against your cock but here, you still stand and it’s contradicting—you’re nowhere near being precarious, and you’ll take that heavenly mouth of her anyday (like you would resist it).
She voiced out your insatiability, impaling her mouth with your own length and bobbed frantically, her immediate actions sending your sensitivity onto the roof and so is the pleasure. She treats your succulence like it’s her favorite popsicle, sucking onto every inch of it and savoring the flavor that’s probably inviting her more roughness and you could feel it.
“God, Dani—shit!” You’re unable to utter coherent sentences as you’re involuntarily shouting out the pleasure she brings, and you could look down and see that smile printed onto her lips, even with a mouthful of your length. You caress her cheeks, run your fingers through her dark-colored locks that’s messy enough to compliment the disarray of her doings.
Here it comes, those eyes of hers locking onto yours, so innocently-looking with the scintillations telling a story full of her wonders and with those very eyes of hers, you’re hypnotized. Her pace never falters, almost pumping her head and kissing your base everytime she buries her throat full of your length, and it almost makes your foundations meet its crumbling outcomes. Her gags are apparent, jerking her head onto you but she fights, because she wants to deliver the utmost pleasure you deserve and with that determination, you’re absolutely going to reward her.
The inevitable is bound to happen, as she ejects onto your saliva-sheathed length, strings of her drool connecting onto her lips and your tip, marking her shirt and soaking so little of it and she catches her breath, chest heaving with what she’d done. “G-God—oh, I—”
“Hey—you did fucking amazing, holy shit…” You’re vulgar and bold, and she doesn’t mind it because it’s mutual when you did your own oral expertise onto her—possibly no one heard her swear so much as ever before whenever you eat her out, and it’s a concealing fact that’s only exclusive between the both of you.
Her lips, swollen and pink, shiver with the sin she has done but she never regretted it, and instantly becomes gleeful once your praise is registered within her. “All for you, daddy.”
Of course it is, and she was giving her hundred percent with every second of this opportunity. There’s still a soft heart within you, consulting her as your eyebrows furrowed, subtly worried. “Are you okay, though?”
“Hah… yes, daddy—I just want more of this cock.” She’s a little exasperated from such an impressive act she’d done to you, and her smiles reassures you and with the eagerness of her livid strokes says a lot.
Danielle holds onto your rod with a vice grip, tight enough for more moans to escape your lips as her lips find its way onto your tip, lapping up the scrumptious taste that she’s addicted to. It was evident, utterly in need for you as she didn’t build up a pace slowly for yourself to get used to, and did the opposite. The pace counts for your release, and it’s evident with the way she’s doing everything in her power to inch you closer to her deserved reward. She takes more than half of you and fondled your balls, earning the sultriest and knee-shuddering moans that urges her for more.
You avert your eyes down, and she’s occupied with your cock, hammering her mouth with it and hollowing her cheeks whenever she feels wringing out the best gratification she can muster. She’s closing her eyes, feeling every inch of you until the back of her throat, gags following and you persistently throbbed in reply with that. She tames it and you admire it, fighting the urge to release her vice grip around your length.
Your eyes then drool all over her impeccable figure, even when she’s down onto her knees—the perfectly sculpted curves of her waist to her hips while her head fades onto the sight with a bobbing blur just ignites the thought of ruining her.
You're lost under her spell, and you wanted to see those beautiful eyes of hers, as she does what she’s best at. Lifting her chin up with your index finger, you gulp and give in to your desires. “Look at me when you're sucking me off, Dani.”
She obliges as she meets your gaze, your face contorting slightly with the pleasure as her ruined visage is enough to know how much she’s enjoying it.
It’s the same cacophonous sounds that deafens your ear with, the same music you won’t get tired of listening if it means to make Danielle feel the delight she always deserves—the concoction of slurps, gags and sloppy sounds are the things at the tip of the iceberg.
Her pace increases, and now, your hands find her hair again as an outlet against the ultimate pleasure she brings, drilling into her mouth deeper without your awareness, balls slapping against her chin due to her breakneck pace. You would want to prolong the dopamine rush within your veins, but the curtain calls out to a painful denouement tha would conclude the first part of an exquisite show she’s laid upon between your legs.
The throbs are persistent, and she doesn’t have a plan to pull out and you have your own desires that’s ready to be fulfilled.
“I’m close—c-can’t hold it anymore—” You gulp right after, breaths uneven as the both of you are just savoring every second, eyes closed and yearning for more. You assess every pump her mouth does, how tight and pleasurable it is and you can’t absolutely hold it anymore until something disturbed the force of things.
A loud pop is what you’ve heard, and you can just see Danielle stroking your messy length with the fastest velocity her wrists can muster, and it just earned more moans from you. “I’ve always wanted to do this, daddy…”
You know where this is going, lips curling up a smirk and pretending to be oblivious. “Do what, exactly?”
You can feel the familiar tingle within your groin, and it’s only a matter of seconds before the inevitable paints her white. “Add up to the mess I made myself, daddy.”
“Open wide, Dani.” She does as she's told to, releasing the grip that almost strangled your length and did it yourself.
That sullied countenance of hers is a sight to cherish, savor every second and every detail on how messy and beautiful she has become as everything concludes down to the most important act.
You groan and point it where it belongs, a pretty canvas painted white as every inch is possibly covered with how thick your load is. Every spurt hits the features where everyone leaves with an awe, living up to the words she let go of and you did just that. Nose, cheeks, forehead, mouth and even her neck—it’s incredibly lucky how none of your load got up to her clothing, possibly writing the script of just ruining what’s just worth defiling.
If these walls could just talk, you hope they wouldn’t say anything because you will be damned if anyone catches the both of you doing such unforgiving sin.
Her lips quiver, still kneeling down as she grips your stiff cock, stroking it leisurely and then inviting you with a gleeful smile that possibly refutes the sinful sight, faking the convincing innocence.
Those eyes of her pleads, and there her dulcet voice goes and you know you can’t turn her requests down. “May I clean your cock, daddy?”
You cup her cheek, maintaining that eye contact as your fingers trace the cum you left onto her, and then directing it onto those soft, kissable lips of hers that’s known for an abundance of talents. It was agonizing with the way you trace her features, and she suckles onto your fingers needily like she hasn't sucked the life out of you just a minute ago. She closes her eyes, relishing and humming in satisfaction with the taste she’s longing to lay her taste buds on.
You pulled out and earned a whine, and then replied with a jovial approach. “No one’s stopping you.”
No one is, and not even herself.
Her lips parts against your engorged tip, tongue swirling around it and tidying up the mess she made. It’s sensitive and it’s the guilty pleasure—it’s slightly making you turn on even more, pushing your limits and as well as the buttons for your lust.
“You’re fucking gifted, Dani.”
It’s these small admirations of her actions that urges her to complacency, but giving everything that she got up her sleeve. Her mouth swirls around and it and eventually, she pulls out and stares at you, reeking that anticipation that lingering within her because she knows you’re not done with her.
Once she pulls out, she remains on her knees, and you take the opportunity to scoop out the cum that stained her heavenly-sinful face, directing it onto her mouth and cleans it repeatedly. It’s nearly cleaned up, but nowhere near the finish line as the both of you are just getting started, and you’re vocalizing your frustrations evidently yet nowhere near hostile.
“Get up, Dani.” She obliges with your command, your feet kicking the clothing and deeming it useful and the sunshine that gleams innocence brews a storm, and you know she’s ready for phase two.
“Dying to be balls deep inside me, daddy?” Of course you fucking are, and she’s just asking that to rile you up and it’s effective, cock twitching up in the air as soon as she let go of such sinful words.
She knows you, and it’s just making things worse in the right ways.
Danielle’s face is just inches away from you, and you’re just dying to get that feeling of her utter tightness. You grew impatient, controlling her lithe frame with a grab on her waist, and let herself face the wall and her arms resting on it as well. She gasps with your roughness towards her, chuckling a little as she wants this kind of treatment and she deserves it. A wiggle of her petite ass invites you to just undress her bottom half, but you would admire the hourglass figure she possesses, every inch of her curves urging you to defile the living life out of her.
You deeply adore her with all your heart, unable to hurt her but whenever she invites you to be one, you wouldn’t waste the opportunity and give in to your carnal desires.
Your hands roam to her clothed butt, feeling the softness of it and how it’s perfectly sculpted and all too right. Unable to deprive yourself of such a sight, you wrap your arms around her hips, undressing her pants and unshackling her heating slit and there it goes, all for you to feast upon.
“You promised to be rough, right, daddy?” She looks over her shoulder, tone laced with high expectations as a moans follows, feeling the cold air brush against her skin.
“If that’s what you wanted—” The restraint is now onto her ankles, then off to somewhere in the vicinity. Your eyes meeting the last bit that conceals your grand prize, but it didn’t come without a reverberating sound that earned the sexiest moans Danielle could muster. “—I’m not thinking a single thought of giving you mercy.”
Fuck, she unleashed the monster within you, and it’s all for her to take.
It wasn’t just one, but a barrage of slaps onto her petite ass, making her writhe a little and her arms shaking with the pain and pleasure you’re treating her. You mark it red, imprinted with your hands before stopping and she whines, knowing the best is yet to be introduced.
It was another moan that escaped her lips, and with the last bit of defense down and destined to be useless, you know she’s up for a show.
“Da—oh god, daddy!” Danielle whimpers once she feels you, going deeper and earning more moans that made her body shudder with the gratification. You plunge not too deep inside her, and immediately, you are met with an overwhelming tightness that puts you in the same boat as hers in correlation with the profanities you both voice out. You grab her hips and her waist, drawing herself closer to you as she’s barely standing on her ground with your control, and you’re just within the tip of the iceberg in terms of your pace.
You give herself a breathing space, but Danielle’s plans weren't in accordance with yours, her voice coarse yet still, surprisingly sweet that urges you for more.
“More, daddy—f-fuck me harder!” Your hips increase your velocity, the initial speed of it sending her thighs in a recoil with your harshness, drilling deeper and withdrawing repeatedly that’s enough to fuck her up, senseless. Somehow, she’s even coherent to articulate words, urging you for more and yearning for you to go deeper.
“Fuck—oh my fucking god, more—aw!”
“God, you’re just so tight, aren’t you, hm?” You’re pumping her like you’re marking up your dominance against her, and it’s fulfilled, now filling her up to the brim. You marvel with her unparalleled tightness, hugging your length like it’s suffocating it and repeatedly groaning because of it. With her repetitive pleas, comes resonating spanks that just makes her leak more of that nectar, creating that wetness that runs down in rivulets on her thighs. She’s creating puddles down onto the floor due to your own rough endeavors into her pussy, legs shaking and rippling in every thrust you do that sends her into overdrive.
You’d bet she’s seeing stars right now, the reason is stated as follows: withdrawing with just the crown inside and then slamming back into her, balls deep, just right for her to delve down onto lustful, high-pitched screams that voices the overwhelming pleasure running down her veins.
This is not great, and with a harsh spank, you retort at her and make sure she’s unable to do it again. “Quiet down, Dani—you’re gonna get us in trouble.”
If it’s ever the case, then the both of you probably are. The suspicious noises are just enough for someone outside to check out what’s with the pandemonium of noises that’s just getting too familiar. You didn’t care, to the very least, continuously pounding her tight cunt and dismissing the fact about the risky unveiling of the truth.
Danielles muffled her screams with a bite on her shirt, shutting herself up and that alone makes you ignite the carnal beast within you, testing how much she can bear.
Her legs are possibly wobbling, getting weaker with how rough you are treating her as every clash of your bodies results in an addition to the symphony of moans, an ocean worth swimming in if it means your ears to get blessed.
You surely are, and you’re at the top of the world because of it.
“God—this pussy—” You groan, spanking her and then lean on to kiss her neck, your tongue nibbling onto the pristine, milky skin as your weight gives her reasons to be dangerously precarious. “—is just phenomenal. This will always be mine.”
You marked up your territory, and Danielle knows who owns her heat, and it’s up for you to ignite it. The kiss was ephemeral, hurting her because she wanted to feel your lips longer against her neck but she’s just grateful that you’re still ruining and impaling her up to the hilt with your length. Your hands run its way back to her hips, and immediately continue with a consistent pace that inches her closer to her own high.
With the way she’s leaking like a faucet around your rapid length, you know it wouldn’t be long until she reaches euphoria.
“C-Close, daddy—so fucking close—you’re fucking m-me so, so good!” Danielle’s clearly enjoying this, and with her compliments comes your own fulfilling reply. You kept fucking her cunt like it’s going to be your last, every thrusts your hips muster clashes against her skin that accentuates roughness.
“Please d-don’t stop fucking me—please, please!” She’s lost in the blissful trance, lust and desperation taking over as gone is her innocent image, truly in the depth and unable to go back up. You did what she pleaded as her juices coats your length in all angles, even adding up onto the puddle onto the floor and wetting down her thighs. Her knees shake, arms flailing with the impact her orgasm brings her, but you didn’t stop and fucked her through it, being in the same boat as hers—lost in the trance.
Her walls clench around you and it earns that primal roar out of you, her tightness aiding to the pleasure you’re also experiencing. You’re just cognizant with the fact that her expression probably concludes into the epitome of ecstasy, and all-throughout cockdrunked with your own reckoning. Wanting another angle to savor how her walls feel, you pull out of her and she immediately whines, asking why would you do such a thing.
“No, d-daddy—no, please, put it b-bcack in—”
“I will.” You grab her wrists and her hips, turning her around to face you and given her small figure, it wasn’t a challenge to control her. “I just wanna see your beautiful face while I ruin you again—make you cum again.”
With your strength, you squat down to inch your arms under her thighs, and immediately lifted her like it’s nothing, and with her swift recovery, her senses became aware and directed your throbbing cock inside her tightness again. She yelps and involuntarily holds onto your arms and neck, supporting her frame and continues to stare at your eyes, glistening with lust.
Her back is pressed against the wall as you thrust upwards, not even starting off slow and introducing a harsh pace, like what she wanted all along. “God, I could fuck you like this all day, Dani—god, you’re hot.”
With the way her abs flex in every thrust you do steals your attention towards it. Maybe her workouts at the gym are worth something more than what she always loves to do, and you admire how toned and perfect it is in every angle. Her supple frame and her flexible legs makes it easier to drill deeper into her cunt, uttering the sultriest and hottest moans by Danielle. With this profound angle, you’re in total domination all over her, controlling her as she gives in to you, trusting you on how you’ll ruin her with care.
“God, daddy—you’re fucking me way too good!” It’s just the deepest primal instincts within her that’s commending the way you’re treating her, and you love every word laced within it. You continue to hammer her upwards, feeling her tightness enveloping you again as her hands find a leverage to hold on but are unsuccessful knowing it’s just a wall behind her.
Your lips then smashes against hers, wanting to increase the libido within you as the clash is something lingering with need and hunger. Both of your lips add up to the erotic soundtrack that’s composed out of spite, filling and permeating the room with the sounds of sex and nothing more.
You’re not going to lie, the shirt that accentuated her figure is just the perfect example of a nuisance, and Danielle hurriedly undresses it, revealing those perky tits with a white bra clasped around it. She’s just too hot to bear, and a perfect candidate to be ruined and you’re proving why she lives up to that position. She threw the shirt onto the bed beside, and continued to rest her arms onto your shoulders, then resumed her moans as it became erratic once you suckled onto her neck, inhaling the scent that you always love.
“I can’t believe h-how much of slut you are for my cock, honestly.” Even if she retaliates for a reason, she can’t deny the truth as your length turns her into a new person, consumed with lust and following you like a leash. She can’t utter a response, not when she’s being pounded into oblivion and another high inching closer towards her.
“I can’t daddy—too good! Too good!!” Her exclamations are the voices of her lustful nature, she’s possibly built just to say the same sets of words once you’ve plunged everything inside her. The cluster of the same moans and pleas escapes her lips, and you know she’s set for another blissful climax and it’s all thanks to you.
Maybe the walls weren’t so opaque to shackle what’s behind, unveiling the secretive assault towards Danielle and you didn’t care—you’re chasing towards the promised land, to set foot there and get lost within that hill.
“Gonna cum, da—” She’s cut, and then, she releases.
Nectar seeps out to the edge of the crevices, forming rivulets and spasms that’s felt in her body, magnitudes unlocking new heights of delight as you fuck her through it, knowing your hopping onto the same boat as hers.
All things are destined to an end, and you want a conclusion worthy to paint something remarkable for the both of you.
“Outside, p-please—cum for me, daddy—” You’re still carrying her while the pleas register within you, burying your shaft and immobilizing your thrusts while coursing your way towards the bed. You throw her, not enough to hurt her but enough to hear an audible thud as you pull out, and eyeing her figure with such hunger that fueled you for another release.
“I’m gonna fucking paint that tight waist of yours, Dani.” You stroke your cock with a breakneck pace, an identical event like earlier as she invites you, her tone crumbling down your walls and building up another reward you’re eager to give.
“Then paint it, daddy—ruin me.” It’s simple yet so hot that you can’t fathom how she’s able to choose words that could fuck up the way you’re thinking. She’s embracing the eventual rain of another hot load, closing her eyes and you could count to five and not make it past three—
Then, it comes.
You aim towards her slim waist, showering the abs with numerous spurts that can rival your first one, multiple shots earning moans from your lips due to how euphoric she made you. You lick your lips, hands wringing out the pleasure and prolonging and eventually, it subsides down for you to admire the fruits of your labor—a work specifically painted meticulously, done and worked on a canvas that’s sprayed white.
Her chest heaves up and down due to the exasperating session and roughness you bestowed, but looking into her eyes, there’s no glint of regret and just grateful you’re able to show who you really are.
“God, you fucked me so well, daddy…”
Your breaths are ragged, your cock getting flaccid as Danielle still has the power to stand on her wobbly legs, your cum running down her porcelain skin and her hands finding its way onto your beast, still urging for something more.
“All for—argh—you, Dani—all for you, god…” The sensitivity skyrockets, but it doesn’t matter, not when you’re finding her lips again, exchanging torrid and intimate kisses.
As you’re about to find your way onto the fine plane of her spine, and towards her ass, a heavy set of knocks baffles the both of you, and it’s fucked up
“Dani, why are you taking so long right there? Hello, are you there with him? What are the both of you doing??” It’s a familiar voice and your senses are heightened, and with an anxious look, Danielle reassures you and shouted words that would possibly assure the girl that everything’s fine.
“Hanni’s gonna kill me, Dani—”
“Shhh…” Her fingers meet your lips, muting you for more advances that won’t help the situation. You help her clean up with the tissue that’s on her desk and hurriedly dress yourselves up, looking presentable as much as possible. “It’s fine—nothing’s going the wrong way, daddy.”
You’re living your life on the edge, and you would be damned for dear life if Hanni unveils the truth yet Danielle’s golden personality outshines that and it’s only a matter of time before she puts those onto the test.
You can end up on both roads of besmirchment, that expected disappointment from Hanni or a surprising turn of acceptance but one thing’s for sure: you achieved what the both of you wanted, and that concludes up onto a triumphant note, all wins and no losses.
#newjeans smut#newjeans x male reader#danielle smut#newjeans danielle smut#danielle x male reader#newjeans danielle x male reader
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sometimes, bunny!reader had very little self awareness. even less when she was with rafe.
you’re at the nail salon, waiting for the lady that worked there to fetch the card machine so rafe could pay for the mani pedi you just received. he’d been running errands all day, but had made that little window of time so he could pick you up and pay for you himself — he was thoughtful like that, for you anyway.
“taking her time, jesus.” rafe complains under his breath, hands stuffed in his pockets as he looks around the salon, straight faced. you tsk, gently smacking the arm of his that you clung to.
“they’re having a busy day, rafey! don’t be rude.” you inform through a glossy pout, adjusting your grip on him when he shrugs carelessly.
“yeah well, i got shit to do. what time is it, anyway?”
you lift your phone, tapping the screen with one taloned nail to awaken it. rafe looks over your shoulder too, like he subconsciously didn’t even trust you to tell him the right time. sometimes you did that, telling him it was earlier than it was when he’d ask so that he’d spend longer with you, thinking he had more time. whilst you were on the well behaved side, it was one of your more sneaky habits.
however, the kook boys attention is stolen from the clock at the top of your screen nearly immediately when you carelessly display his own dick on the lockscreen. the worst part is how you’re not even trying to hide it, practically waving it around for the salon to see. you turn the screen towards him, bracelets jangling as you shake the screen a little.
“see, m’not lying about the time toda—”
rafe snatches the phone from your hand, wide eyed as he glances around. “the hell is this, huh? why is my dick your lockscreen? don’t need people seein’ what i’m working with kid, jesus— change that shit. now.” he scolds and you pout.
“but, daddy i like seeing it.” you put on the innocent act— one you do all too well as you bat your eyelashes up at him, clasping your freshly manicured hands at your front, thinking the ‘daddy’ nickname will win you some points.
“do you like sitting down? ‘cos you’re not gonna be able to do that either if you start talkin’ back. change it.”
you stare him down for a second, resisting a foot thump before yielding, sulkily taking your phone back and opening up your camera roll to find a better picture to use as your lockscreen.
“good. play stupid games win stupid prizes alright i don’t need you parading my—” his lecture his cut short by the salon assistant returning, asking if he’d like to pay with cash or card.
you continue to sulk once you’re in the passenger seat to his car, choosing to inspect your nails over interacting with him. as he concentrates on pulling out of his spot, he glances at you quickly. “hey, cheer up.” it’s more of a command and your pout only deepens.
“i liked my lockscreen rafey. i changed it because i missed you.”
surprisingly, he huffs out a quiet laugh.
“and — and a picture of just me wouldn’t have sufficed? nah, you missed my dick.” he shakes his head, squinting out at the road ahead.
“missed both.” its quiet, but he hears anyway— glancing at you once more.
“yeah? well guess where we’re headed now?”
your interest is piqued and you peer over at him, eyeing the handsome cameron.
“home. so once again, you’re gettin’ what you want. so… so stop looking so heartbroken, alright? you’ll get your fix.”
like that, all is forgotten, leaning over the console to smear a glossy kiss to his cheek and grab him through his pants — usual behaviour back in tact.
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Poly!Marauders x Needy!Reader
“Daddy”, Y/N whines, “Need you.”
James chuckles, the feeling of her mumbling against his neck is tickling him. His hands are rubbing at her sides, trying to comfort her.
“Please daddy, want you, inside”, she’s mumbling against his neck, fingers pulling the hairs at the nape of his neck.
“You’re all worn out baby, you’ll be too sore”, he reasons.
“Yeah baby”, Sirius, sitting next to James and their girl says, rubbing her side, “you have to wait, at least until tomorrow, or it’s gonna hurt.”
She huffs, not liking the answers. She needs it. Needs to be filled up again, won’t calm down without it. James is still rubbing soothingly above her shirt, not wanting to excite her too much.
As Remus walks in, her head piques up,
“Daddy! Please daddy, they’re being so mean”, she groans, arms reaching up around his neck.
“Are they being mean to you, baby? Huh?” He asks, arms wrapping around her smaller frame, eyebrows raised as he looks at the other boys.
Y/N nods against his chest.
“Moony, she’s obviously out of it, we can’t fuck her now”, James says.
Remus tsks, lifting Y/N up using his grip around her waist,
“Oh baby, they’re right, we can’t fuck you again”
She looks as if she’s about to cry, eyes welling up with tears and bottom lip jutting out,
“But Daddy, ‘m so empty”, the first few tears run down her cheeks.
Remus sits down on the couch, placing her in his lap, her legs straddling his. One of his hands coming up to her cheek, thumb rubbing her tears away.
“There’s still a way to make you feel full”, he says, hands reaching down in between them to unbuckle his belt, “you’re gonna take my cock in your pretty pussy, and you’re gonna sit very still.”
She nods, drying her tears. Next to them, the other boys share a look. Remus takes his half hard cock out of his pants,
“Baby you have to make daddy hard first”, he coos.
Her hands reach down, wrapping around him, he’s big and her hands are small so she needs both of them as she jerks him off, watching as his cock grows in her hands.
“That’s enough, love, gonna fill you up now, yeah?”
He grips her hips, throwing his head back as her warm, wet walls swallow him.
“So, how was quidditch practice?” He asks, turning to his other two partners.
#fanfic#mywriting#amathelia writes#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin#sirius black x reader#sirius black#remus lupin smut#sirius black smut#james potter#james potter x reader#james potter smut#poly!marauders x reader#poly!marauders#smut#marauders era#marauders
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Hummingbird - Part: I
Summary: In the quiet town of Jackson, Joel becomes consumed by a dark and overpowering obsession with his new neighbor. What begins as fascination quickly spirals into something much darker as he loses control over his desires.
3,6k
Warnings: +18, MDNI, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, obsessive!Joel, stalking, voyeurism, dark themes, explicit sexual content, masturbation, age gap (not specified), unprotected PIV, noncon, sexual obsession, power imbalance, dark!Joel, inappropriate behavior
Part: I
Here’s Part II.
· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··
In the quiet of Jackson, where the rhythm of daily life had settled into a predictable monotony, something delicate and strange began to intrude upon Joel Miller’s routine. It was a morning like any other, with the sun rising lazily over the horizon, casting a gentle golden hue across the town. Joel was out on his usual run, his steps methodical and unhurried as he made his way back to the his house, his mind occupied with mundane thoughts.
It was then, amidst the usual rustle of leaves and distant hum of the town awakening, that he first heard it. At first, it was barely perceptible—a faint, ethereal sound drifting through the air like a whisper from another world. Joel paused, his attention momentarily snagged by the delicate melody that seemed to dance just at the edge of his hearing. It was as if the air itself had taken on a subtle, musical quality, a softness that contrasted starkly with the rough edges of his usual environment.
He turned his head, his gaze searching for the source of this unexpected serenade. It was coming from the house next door, a modest structure that had always seemed unremarkable, shrouded in vines and surrounded by the casual chaos of overgrown greenery. The sound was so incongruous with the house’s unassuming exterior that it felt like a secret whisper from within, something hidden and precious.
Joel’s curiosity was piqued. He stood still for a moment, trying to catch the essence of the melody. It was a hum—a soft, resonant tone that seemed to rise and fall with a natural, almost instinctual grace. The notes were like tendrils of mist, curling through the air and slipping past his defenses. He could only imagine the source, but it was enough to make him linger longer than usual, his gaze drawn toward the window of the house.
He paused, listening, his gaze instinctively drawn toward her house. Through the window, all he could make out was a fleeting shadow, a delicate form moving gracefully inside.
At first, Joel thought nothing of it, dismissing the moment as an odd distraction. But as the days passed, something began to shift in him. He found himself increasingly drawn to that house, his curiosity growing with every glimpse of her. It started innocently enough, with stolen glances as he passed by, but soon it became more deliberate. His steps slowed near her house, his eyes straying toward her window, searching for even the slightest sign of her. He was fascinated by the way she moved, by the way her hands gently tended to the garden, her fingers brushing over the petals of flowers she grew with such care. Each sight sent a strange rush through him, something that made his pulse quicken.
· · ─────
The first time Joel saw your face, it struck him with a force that knocked the breath from his lungs. He had been watching, hidden behind the blinds of his window, when you stepped outside. The world seemed to pause, holding its breath as your eyes met his, just for a brief, charged moment. Your wide, innocent eyes framed by long lashes, and the natural rosy glow of your cheeks, made Joel’s chest tighten. You smiled softly, the gentle curve of your lips triggering something deep inside him. He felt it immediately—a need so intense it nearly overwhelmed him.
Joel’s heart pounded in his chest, a relentless pressure building in his pants. His body reacted violently to the sight of you—his cock hardening painfully. He clenched his fists at his sides, fighting the overwhelming urge to approach you, to bridge the gap that separated you.
That was when the obsession began.
He started to hear your voice more clearly, each utterance a sweet murmur that resonated deep within him. Even the simplest exchanges—casual hellos, friendly greetings—were like a siren’s call, drawing him deeper into his obsession. Your voice was a melody that seemed to play directly to his most primal desires. Every word you spoke, every laugh, every soft-spoken sentence made his resolve crumble.
As he observed you from a distance, he couldn’t help but be captivated by the way your clothes clung to your body—how your sundress gently swayed with each movement, exposing just enough to tease. The sight of your legs, bare and inviting, only served to fuel his obsession. His cock often grew hard and throbbing whenever he caught sight of you, straining painfully against his pants. The thought of you, so close yet so out of reach, drove him to the brink of madness.
One evening, as the golden sun dipped below the horizon, Joel found himself standing by his window, peering out at your house. His breath came in ragged gasps as he saw you stepping outside, your form illuminated by the fading light. You looked ethereal, your face soft and angelic in the warm glow. The sight of you made his cock pulse with need. He gripped the edge of the windowsill, trying to steady himself, but the pressure in his pants became almost unbearable.
He watched, nearly paralyzed with desire, as you walked to your mailbox, your hips swaying with each step. The way your dress clung to your curves made his mouth go dry. His hand instinctively moved to his aching cock, and he found himself pressing against it through his pants, trying to relieve some of the intense pressure. His thoughts were a jumbled mess of dirty fantasies—images of you, your soft lips wrapped around him, your body arching beneath him.
“Goddammit, baby” he cursed, his voice low and strained. “I need you so bad… fuckin’ want you so much…” His hand moved under his pants to his aching cock as he began to stroke himself slowly, his mind filled with filthy images of you. He imagined your soft lips on his skin, your body arching in pleasure beneath him. He imagined how you’d look at him with your pretty eyes as you took him between your soft pillowy lips. fuck.
The intensity of his desire pushed him to the edge as he whispered dirty thoughts about you, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
With every stroke, he imagined you moaning his name, your body shuddering with pleasure as he took you, over and over again. Pounding into your little cunt. He could almost feel the warmth of your body against his, the way your skin would feel under his hands.
“God, you’re so fucking perfect,” he muttered, eyes locked onto your unknowing frame as he stroked himself, his mind filled with filthy fantasies of you. “I bet you’d feel so good wrapped around me, fuck…”
The thought drove him to the brink, and he came with a shuddering gasp, his mind filled with the image of you—innocent and sweet, yet twisted into his darkest fantasies.
· · ─────
Later, when Joel finally mustered the courage to approach you, he was a bundle of conflicting emotions—nervousness and raw, unfiltered desire coiling tightly within him.
The encounter had been a fantasy that had played out in his mind countless times, and now it was happening in reality. Every step toward your porch felt monumental, his heart pounding with a frenetic rhythm that echoed in his ears. His palms were slick with sweat, making his grip on the porch railing shaky as he approached.
He could barely contain the tremors that coursed through his hands and legs, the anticipation making his entire body vibrate with a desperate urgency.
You were seated gracefully on your porch, a book resting lightly in your lap, your legs crossed in a demure manner that only accentuated the delicate curve of your soft thighs.
The evening light painted you in a soft, almost ethereal glow, casting shadows that highlighted the gentle curve of your silhouette. Joel couldn’t believe how one could look so… pretty.
When you looked up and saw him standing there, your eyes widened with surprise, and a radiant, innocent smile spread across your face—a sight so pure and captivating that it made Joel’s breath catch in his throat.
“Hello,” Joel managed to say, his voice coming out rough and gravelly, betraying the tumult of emotions swirling inside him.
He struggled to keep his tone steady, forcing himself to act casual despite the intense craving gnawing at his insides.
Your smile only widened further, and your eyes sparkled with a blend of curiosity and warmth.
“Oh, hi! You must be Mr. Miller. I’ve heard so much about you.”
Joel’s gaze fell to your hand as you extended it in greeting.
Immediately his thoughts slipped to your delicate fingers gripping his throbbing member while he called you his goodgirl. His heart skipped a beat, and he felt a rush of blood pool in his cock, which was now straining painfully against the confines of his pants.
Every move you made seemed to amplify his arousal, and he fought to maintain control as he forced himself to look up at your face.
The sight of you, so effortlessly charming and engaging, was overwhelming. His cock throbbed again with an urgent need that he could hardly contain, and he struggled to keep his composure as he looked at you. Do you know, what you’re doing to him?
“Call me Joel,” he said, his voice low and strained, barely above a whisper. His hands were clammy, and he had to clench them into fists to keep them from reaching out and taking you right on the floor.
You continued to speak, your voice a soft, inviting murmur that wrapped around him like a velvet glove, soothing yet igniting.
“I was just out here enjoying the evening. How are you?”
Joel’s eyes traced every movement you made, every subtle shift of your body.
The way you leaned forward slightly, the way your pretty pink lips parted in a soft, engaging smile—all of it was a tantalizing display that made his cock strain even harder.
He could feel the wetness seeping from the tip of his cock, staining the fabric of his pants, and he shifted uncomfortably, trying to discreetly adjust himself while maintaining a semblance of normal conversation.
“I’m doin’ fine,” he said, his voice barely audible.
All he could focus on was the way you looked, the way your eyes sparkled with an innocent curiosity that heightened his yearning.
His mind was consumed by a storm of lustful thoughts, barely registering the actual conversation. Do you feel this pull, too?
The more you spoke, the more his body betrayed him.
Every smile you flashed, every soft laugh that escaped your lips, was like a provocative tease that made his cock twitch with uncontrollable arousal.
His fantasies grew darker with each passing second, imagining what it would be like to press you against the wall, to feel your body writhing beneath him, to hear your moans of pleasure while he sucked your perfect clit into his mouth and doing that, and more, for hours.
The thought made him shudder with a mix of desire and frustration, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
Each accidental brush of your body against his was like a jolt of electricity. You’re talking, but he only grasps half of it.
When you leaned in to grab something from the table, your soft, intoxicating scent enveloped him, making his cock nearly explode with a desperate need.
He could barely keep himself together, his thoughts spiraling into a whirlwind of dirty fantasies.
You, looking up at him while sucking on his twitching balls. Licking between them and going lower-
He interrupted himself before he would go actually insane.
You laughed at something he said, and the sound of your laughter—sweet and melodic—was like a siren’s call that fueled his desire further.
He envisioned your eyes filled with innocent curiosity as you took him in. The thought made his cock leak uncontrollably, the wet stain spreading on his pants a testament to his arousal.
Look down, baby. Look what you’re doing to me. Give me a fuckin’ reason.
· · ─────
As the evening drew to a close and you finally excused yourself, Joel was left standing there, his body trembling with a mix of frustration and unfulfilled desire.
He watched you walk back inside, your silhouette framed by the warm light of your home, and the sight only deepened his obsession.
He retreated to his own house, barely able to contain the need that simmered just beneath the surface.
Later, as he lay in bed, his thoughts were consumed by you. Every moment, every touch, every word you had spoken replayed in his mind with relentless intensity.
His hand moved to his aching cock, and he began to stroke himself slowly, his mind filled with filthy images of you. He imagined your soft lips on his skin, your body arching in pleasure beneath him. The intensity of his desire pushed him to the edge as he whispered dirty thoughts about you, his breath coming in ragged gasps. My goodgirl. You’ll be such a good fuckin’ girl.
“Fuck, I need you so bad,” he groaned, each stroke of his hand sending waves of pleasure through him.
I want to feel your tight pussy wrapped around me, hear you scream my name. I need to make you mine.
With each stroke, he envisioned you moaning his name, calling out to him. Daddy, sir, master, anything - as long as it’s you.
The thought drove him to the brink, and he came with a shuddering gasp, his mind flooded with the image of you—innocent and sweet, yet twisted into his darkest fantasies.
· · ─────
Joel knew his obsession with you was consuming him, but he couldn’t stop.
Every sight, every sound, only deepened his fixation. He was trapped in a cycle of desire and denial, the more he saw of you, the more intense his obsession became.
The twisted desire that had taken root in him was growing stronger, and he knew there was no escaping the dark, perverse longing that now ruled his every thought.
“I have to have her,” Joel whispered into the darkness, the words a promise and a curse. His mind was set on claiming you, making you his in every way. The thought of finally having you, of making you his possession, consumed him completely. He was lost in his obsession, and the only thing that mattered now was the need to make you his, no matter the cost.
Soon, we’ll be together - my sweet little hummingbird.
#pervert!joelmiller#joel miller#perverted!joelmiller#joel miller x reader#joel miller fanfic#joel miller smut#joel tlou#joel the last of us#age difference#smut#joel miller fic#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x you#joel miller one shot#tlou smut#tlou joel#tlou fanfic#the last of us#tlou fanfiction#tlou fic#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us smut#joel miller x female reader#pedro pascal x reader#joel miller x y/n#pervert!joel#dark!joel miller#dark joel miller#mssalo#mssalowork
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𝕞𝕪 𝕗𝕒𝕧𝕠𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕖 𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕗𝕖𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟!
read cw! summary: after finding out that you're a virgin, the cook wants you all to himself pairing: sanji x afab!reader cw: mdni, obessive behavior, nonconsensual voyeurism, nonconsensual use of aphrodisiacs, virginity kink (reader is portrayed as more innocent), slight overstimulation, oral (fem! receiving), fingering an: listen... sanji is a dirty dirty perv in this. like. a manipulative perv. also i made this too damn long 😐 no wonder it takes me forever to upload... anyway, eat up!! wc: 2.4k for kinktober '23!
friday nights were his favorite. everyone was full and happy, drunk and carefree. the guys were busy stumbling over themselves and fighting over the last piece of food.
and the ladies?
well damn, sanji wouldn't ever miss bath night!
his eyes peek through the small window, through the haze of steam until he has a clear view of the forbidden oasis that lies inside. soapy skin and damp hair, the scent of vanilla and the sound of laughter that has his already half-hard cock twitching in his pants.
he palms himself over the fabric of his jeans before he quietly unzips his pants and grabs the base of his shaft. slow strokes and deep breaths. the perverted cook wants it to last, and he squeezes himself at the tip until a jolt runs down his spine.
his eyes dart between all the exposed skin, not questioning his morals for a second. every time was the last time, damn him...
the laughs shift into quiet whispers, the interest of the chef piqued. it doesn't stop him from sliding his hand up and down his dick, thumb circling over the tip- an exquisite torture.
nami's snicker echoes in the steam filled bathroom. he can see her shoulders shake slightly, can see robin bring a hand to her mouth to hide a smile. "just admit it!" she eggs on, splashing water in your direction.
unfortunately, your back is to him, but he can tell that your arms are crossed. "fine!" comes your voice, half embarrassed and slightly slurred from the alcohol. "i'm a virgin!"
sanji just about short circuited. hell, he was surprised that he didn't groan.
why didn't he know this sooner?
you? a virgin?
he cums hard in his hand.
the next week passes in a blur. you run rampant through his mind... usually naked and spread out, looking up at him with big puppy dog eyes as he lined up his cock with your untouched-
"sanji?"
he snaps out of his stupor, almost inhaling his cigarette whole. his eyes go wide and he offers you a kind smile, making you feel warm. the way he says your name is breathless, as if he were afraid this were a dream. "what can i do for you, mon amour? a drink? or are you hungry?"
"no, none of that." you reply, returning the smile and shaking your head. "i was wondering if i could borrow some rosemary? i've heard it helps with hair growth and i wanted to use it for my shower tonight..."
oh fuck yes, you can borrow some rosemary. take the whole spice cabinet, if you want.
he nods and hands you a good handful of said herb, a pleased blush coating his cheeks. his mind races, thinking of ways to clear his schedule for tonight.
it's a few hours later when he leans outside the bathroom door, wary of any passersby while also attuning his senses to the sound of the shower turning on. he hears you as you hum along to some random tune, your melodic voice enough to make his cock twitch. slow strokes and deep breaths.
his heart hammers in his chest as he watches the water cascade down every curve and dip on your body. even the gentle flow of the water on your tits is enough to get your nipples hard. that sensitive? fuck, what he wouldn't do to wrap his lips around them. his teeth bite into his lower lip when he sees you bring your hands to your chest, lightly rubbing over your hardened peaks. the scent of rosemary lingers in the thick air, overwhelming his senses until he swears his mouth goes dry.
the conversation you'd had with the girls really got you thinking. your thoughts traversed into unknown territory and your cheeks grew hot as you lightly twisted your sensitive nipples. heart hammering in your chest, you slide a tentative hand down your torso before retracting it.
it's almost cute how shy you were, and it makes him want to spoil you even more.
"that's it, mon amour..." he whispers to himself, an adoring smile pulling at his lips. he tightens his grip on his cock, heat pooling low in his stomach.
he thinks it's a blessing from the heavens when your soap bar slides off the holder and onto the floor. the cutest little 'oops' is all you say before bending over, giving sanji the view he needs.
his cum is hot on his hand, thick and pumping with fervor as if it were actually buried in that sweet pussy of yours.
another week of madness. he could only jerk off to you so many times and, while the sight of you never failed to get his dick hard, he'd decided that he needed to have you. to be your first, to treat you right and show you pleasure unlike anything you've ever known.
he knew you wanted it. he could tell by the way your gaze lingered on his large hands or how your thighs would squish together when he showered you with compliments.
but a shy little treat like you? you'd be tripping over your words, feeling embarrassed and not knowing how to ask. the cook couldn't have that.
surely, a little nudge or two in the right direction wouldn't be a bad thing.
that's why one night, when he knew the kitchen would be free from the meat eating captain and sake drinking swordsman, he whips up a little something special for you.
when you enter the kitchen, as he had told you to do a few hours ago, you're absolutely beaming with joy upon seeing your favorite dessert on the table. "you didn't have to do that, sanji!" taking a seat, your brows rise in curiosity as he slides a shallow bowl towards you, a velvet colored sauce swirling within. "uh, sanji? what's that?"
"mon amour, i made this dessert just for you..." he smiles, a puff of smoke floating to the ceiling. "it's a special sauce. i wanted you to be the first one to try it."
none the wiser, you dig into the dish. it's extra sweet to you, whether it was from the sauce or the warmth of sanji's smile, you don't know. he watches you lick the sauce from your lips, heart hammering in his chest.
you grin, thank him for the food and leave. then, he waits.
the chef is smart, able to be incredibly coy when he wanted to- needed to. he can be patient and stick to a plan, even as he practically vibrates with excitement while he waits for the aphrodisiac to kick in.
he chose this night because nami and robin would be on watch, leaving you alone and writhing in the girl's cabin.
after a while, he makes your favorite tea and heads to the girl's quarters under a guide of innocence. "ah, mon amour." he smiles, closing the door behind him. "i made too much tea and wanted to see if you'd like some."
oh, what a sight.
you on your bed, blankets pooled by your legs. when your eyes meet his, he can see how dilated your pupils are. a light sheen of sweat coats your form and you're twisting around in agitation. "s-sanji?" you call, voice laced with a huskiness that sent a rush of blood straight down to his cock. you sit up on the mattress, hair dishevelled.
he sets the tea aside and sits on the edge of your bed, placing a hand on your forehead. "oh mon amour, what's wrong?" his eyes briefly flicker downward, where he can see your hardened nipples poking out from your sleeping shirt.
his touch feels like heaven and you lean into it, unintentionally letting out a moan. it's embarrassing and your cheeks manage to grow even warmer. "i feel hot." you mumble, his scent flooding your senses. your thighs press together, your panties already feeling sticky and damp. "c-can you just keep... touching? me?"
your moan gets his heart racing and he shifts slightly, hiding his growing erection. "of course, mon amour."
so, he does just that. one of his hands grips into the sheets below, the other trailing from your forehead, down to your cheek and then to your shoulder where he traces light circles on the soft flesh. goosebumps rise on your skin and you take a shaky breath, too shy to verbally express how soothing his touch was.
when you look down, you see how close his hand is to your clothed chest and pert nipples. without even realizing it, you begin to lean back, rolling your shoulders and pushing out your torso. his hand doesn't move and he lets you position your body into his touch, a sight that has his heart swelling with anticipation.
you brush your nipple against his fingers and your breath hitches. it's so embarrassing, so exciting and lewd, but it quells that aching feeling deep in your cunt. "m-m'sorry." you sigh, unable to resist rocking back and forth so that you could revel in his touch.
his cheeks are so red, his smile a little shaky. "i-it's okay mon amour." he assures, bringing his free hand up to your other nipple. he starts to brush his thumb across your hardened peaks, gently pushing you back onto the mattress as he did so. "is this making you feel better?"
the contact sends jolts of pleasure straight to your core and you nod.
he pushes further, momentarily taking his hands off of you (and relishing in the sound of your whines) to push your shirt up. it's so divine. you're so divine. he continues his ministrations, rolling a swollen nipple between his fingers while he licked his lips and hovered over the other one. "i'll help you feel better." he reassures, latching his lips around your hardened bud.
the squeak you give only spurs him further. he wanted to be gentle, wanted to make this special for you, but the way you gripped onto his blond hair and held him steady against your tits... it has him licking and sucking like a man starved.
he has to shift his position a bit, nestling himself between your thighs where he can grind his hard cock against you. his words are mumbled against your saliva coated nipple. "are you feeling better, mon amour?"
you are, god knows you are, but... "i need more." you mewl, whatever sense in your head being clouded by a haze of pleasure. your hips undulate beneath his, grinding against his clothed cock. you're writhing, panting when you find the perfect spot which places the right amount of friction on your clit.
but still, it's just not enough.
his chest buzzes with affection and desire, lust and wonder, at how eager you are. he'd be evil if he denied you, so he coos sweet nothings into your ear as he slides his hands down your body. he leaves a trail of heat along your skin and you can only lift your hips when he starts to tug at the waistband of your pants and underwear.
soft palms cup your thighs, spreading them wide even as you bashfully attempt to keep them closed. "you're beautiful, mon amour." he praises, lowering himself to get a good view of what he's been dreaming of for the past few weeks. "i'll make you feel go- better. i'll make you feel better."
you're soaking, practically dripping onto the mattress below. he swears that this can't all be from that damn aphrodisiac. your pretty, untouched body must've been so damn eager- desperate to be filled.
your cunt pulses when he leans forward and licks a stripe up your folds with the flat of his tongue. he repeats the motion another couple of times before latching onto your clit and assaulting it with a series of quick, short laps. it feels like pins and needles are pricking at every nerve on your body, your hips bucking with his movements.
"d-don't stop!" you hiccup, running a hand through his scalp while the other twisted into the bedsheets.
he's trembling, panting and groaning into your clit. his movements halt for a few seconds, his posture tensing before relaxing slightly. before you could beg him to keep going, he doubles his efforts.
poor chef came in his pants... it was a bit too much for him.
one of his fingers traces the entrance of your soaking cunt before he pushes it inside, his hips rutting into nothing when he's greeted by your tight, velvet walls, untouched and ready to be shaped by his cock. you're such a sweet thing, he mumbles into your cunt, setting a slow and steady pace with his finger.
you're mewling and shaking, looking down at him and at your pleasure laden body with equal parts embarrassment and arousal. drool coats your lips, a sharp gasp coming through them as he inserts another finger and curls them up against that spongy spot that had you seeing stars. the heat that was oh so uncomfortable earlier seems to be forgotten, replaced by an unabashed pleasure that you never thought was possible. "s-san! ji!"
if he thought you were tight before, then he had another thing coming. your walls start to tense and clamp around his fingers, his cock already hardening in anticipation.
another few strokes, a curling of his fingers and a swirl of his tongue around your clit have you cumming hard.
he groans against you, lapping up all of your juices and pumping his digits into you until you were squeezing your thighs around his head and begging him to stop.
your body trembles with aftershocks of pleasure, tears dotting your lashes as you look up at him as if he were a god. it's a sight he can get used to, so long as you were his little angel. no, his goddess. he gives you a smile, leaning forward to place a kiss on your temple before telling you how good you were for him.
"sanji..." you half whine, half sigh. the haze in your eyes hadn't gone away. he made sure it wouldn't when he purposefully added a few extra servings of aphrodisiac to your special dessert earlier.
"i know, mon amour." he whispers back, unzipping his pants and releasing his now hard cock from its confines. his boxers are stained with cum, the head of his dick already leaking. "i promised i'd make you feel better."
you're only able to let out a gasp when he runs the tip of his cock along your slit, your essences mixing together in a concoction more delicious than anything he's ever made.
when he slides himself into your virgin pussy, he shudders and groans. your walls squeeze him, welcoming him, beckoning him deeper until he had no choice but to spill his load into you. your gasps and whines, the shaky hold you have on his shoulders are all engrained into his brain.
you were his now. and he was yours.
his favorite little confection.
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