#receiving this ask was like euphoria for me. you. you. you. you get it.

[01zfan]

sweetheart | l. at

nerd!anton x nerd!reader | 5.1k words

a request i got and it kinda made me go a little insane.

contains: anton pretends to be an insecure little nerd to plot on the reader, fingering, reader is implied to be a virgin

Anton is a sweetheart. He’s non assuming and soft spoken, so quiet that he has to clear his throat each time he speaks. He’s kind, always extending the same tenderness and patience to people he received as a child. He’s one of the few men in his program that the girls didn’t have trouble approaching if they had a question or trouble with an assignment. 

Each time anyone approached him with a question he was helpful, pushing his thick frames up his face before leaning to the paper. With a pencil he’d mark where the mistake was, and explaining it with a gentle voice that had girls leaning in even closer. 

After they got a smell of his cologne and the look of his soft skin everything else was easy. The girls would tilt their heads in curiosity about Anton, intrigued at how someone so shy made it this far in life. How someone was so cute from afar but something more once you got close. All he had to do was avoid their eyes and chew his lip a few times before they were sliding their phones over to him.

Just in case I need help with another assignment.

Anton’s eyes would always widen in shock. Not from the surprise of being pursued but just how easy it all was. The girls never found out that Anton was red in the face from the rush and he ducked his head to hide a smile of satisfaction. They would laugh lightly seeing his reaction, observing what they thought was insecurity. Before going on about their day they’d touch his shoulder or pull on him playfully.

Anton is a sweetheart.

But he also has a problem.

He knows he does. His friends compared it to a sweet tooth that bordered addiction, or someone who would walk into a casino with a twenty dollar bill expecting to hit big. They sometimes even called Anton a psychopath when he’d get all giddy telling them about his day. 

Anton knew he had a problem, but it was hard to stop when he got the sweet fix or hit the jackpot each time. Nothing could top the feeling of euphoria Anton would get when he’d come to one of those girls after they asked him to come to their place. He’d look at the messages in the comfort of his room and smile, knowing what it meant when they’d preface the study session by saying they were alone. He’s addicted to the game he’d play every time, faking the shy and insecure nerd that pretty girls were going to eat for dinner. Like they were throwing him a bone by inviting him to their apartment or dorm under the guise of doing homework. 

They’d answer the door in something easy to take off or something that would cling to them like a second skin. If they were particularly desperate it’d be both, yoga pants that showed everything and a cropped shirt that rode up with every movement. Anton loved shamelessly gawking at the girls behind his glasses, shuffling from foot to foot in front of them before they invited him in. He waited for each direction, eyes darting around their room before he was invited to sit down or told to take out his notebook. He would purposefully be a step behind, showing how lost he was to be in a room that didn’t belong to him or his other intraverted friends.

He loved letting the girls make the first move. On their bed settling in as they really got a look at him in the setting of their room. Something about how clueless he was made the girls all the more strung up. He looked everywhere but at them, shrinking himself on their bed. His timidness made the girls love making the first subtle touch on his flexed arm, or purposefully grabbing his pencil so they could compare hand sizes. Anton loved acting like he was nervous wreck from the longing stares to the side of his face, like he hadn’t done this dance a million times before. He loved messing up his words while trying to act oblivious to the hungry look in their eyes. He loved the pretty smile the girls would get like he was the one falling into their trap. 

His absolute favorite part was when they’d turn his head with their soft hands. Anton would falter from the eye contact, letting his lips part in confusion as they focused on him. The notebooks and assignments between them long forgotten as they shuffled closer to him on the bed.

“Have you ever been with a girl before?” 

They’d always ask that. Voices light and airy, already having an answer in their mind.

“I have.” 

He’d always answer with a stutter. The falter in his voice never made them push any further. They assumed by Anton’s darting eyes that the number was so minuscule asking about it would only embarrass him. 

(He stopped being embarrassed of his conquests a long time ago. He also stopped being able to keep track.)

Anton is a sweetheart, with a problem of seeing pretty girls eyes flash when they realize that he is more than capable.

The moment was always the same. The mood in the room would change when Anton would sheepishly take off his oversized hoodie. Each time silence would settle over the room when they saw what he was hiding underneath. His undershirt hugged close to his body, showing the chisel and the hard work he put in at the gym. When he was feeling tired while working out he’d replay the sight of the girls taking in his toned body. They’d reach out to touch his chest as if they were expecting it all to be fake, other times they would just let out a breathless wow.

He always basked in seeing the girls try to maintain their composure. They would become the ones averting their eyes and stumbling over their words. They would be shellshocked on their side of the bed, wondering what else he was hiding. But Anton was still sweet, he always was. He would always wait patiently to see if this was really what the girls wanted. He would pick at the seam of his pants and look down to the forgotten homework to let them know they could go back to what they were doing and pretend this never happened. But the obvious bulge in his pants always made pretty girls reach for the waistband of their pants without a second thought.

Anton was never sure if they gawked at him in an attempt to get his confidence up or if they were truly surprised. As if his build and height were no indicator, each time Anton took off his pants to reveal his dick they were always so shocked. That’s when the resolve would truly fall, when their jaws would drop and they’d blink their eyes from the sheer surprise. Precum would leak from his tip just from the sight of them coming to terms with what was twitching and red and angry in front of them.

“You’re big.”

The infliction in their voice was always different. Some girls would be excited, others would be confused, a few times they almost seemed disgusted. Like there was no way the shy kid in the back of the class was hiding this.

“Am I really?” 

Anton wasn’t an idiot. Even if he said it looking down at the bed, he knew that he was endowed and it was pretty. But sometimes he just needed to hear it an extra time, or look up to see a quick head nod when they couldn’t fathom saying it again. He was an insecure nerd after all. The quiet recluse in the back of class that barely had friends. An absolute sweetheart that threw girls around and manipulated their bodies into positions they didn’t even know about.

He loved being a good fuck. For a long time he believed he was put on the Earth to fuck pretty girls and to stop them from judging books by their covers. Anton was killing two birds with one stone by cooing at girls condescendingly while he gave them everything. It was his civic duty to exert his strength and to kiss girls until they were breathless and his glasses fogged. Each time he heard I didn’t know you had that in you an angel gained it’s wings. Whenever they’d tell their girlfriends what the shy nerd did to them in their dorm Anton was making the world a better place. Sometimes he would get called back, sometimes he would run through entire friend groups just to prove he was really committed to the cause. 

No matter how many people Anton fucked, no one seemed to believe it. Like it was collective psychosis that the nerd was a good lay, or a big open secret everyone was hush about. Anton was still treated like he was meek, his soft nature made everyone believe he was an open book, so much to the point that they made wrong judgements about his character. He actually hated staying inside and enjoyed exploring the city and trying new things with his friends. He was a sensitive person but he could also advocate for himself and admit when he was wrong. He was quiet, but only because he valued personal, quiet conversations more than anything. 

He eventually learned that people’s preconceived notions of him couldn’t be helped. Anton could fuck the entirety of the campus and people would still treat him like he was made of glass. He decided to be an optimist, finding the silver lining in people assuming he was the sweetheart with a cute smile. Their perception of him could’ve been worse, being shy was infinitely better than being loud and obnoxious. So when people would assume things about Anton’s personality he would only react positively. He would let his eyes go wide, acting shocked when someone would tell him about their first impression of him. 

“I thought you were an asshole at first.”

You told Anton nonchalantly, as if his whole world didn’t crumble. You didn’t even spare him a second glance as you wrote on your lab report. You were too busy adjusting the calculations and reading over the proper way to dispose the chemicals a million times to make sure it was right while Anton sputtered to himself. He was caught off guard by your honesty and surprisingly quick answer as if it was on the forefront of your mind. You only tilted your head up for a second before you had the answer. 

Anton didn’t know what to do about you. Just when he thought he had seen every girl in his major you came along, sitting in the back of class with him. You seemed to be the recluse of a person everyone mistook Anton for. You were in and out of class, not bothering to raise your hand during discussions or to socialize with your peers. You also didn’t seem to latch onto him like other girls of his major did. When they looked for Anton’s face in the lecture hall you walked right past him, not bothering to look up from your notebook or laptop. For the first time in his life Anton felt compelled to make the first move. He thought that you two had built up a good rapport, and that you saw him as your kindhearted and resigned classmate.

But you saw him as anything but that. You said it confidently too, and loud enough for your classmates at the next lab table to look over.

“What do you mean?” Anton said quietly.

You frowned looking up from the pamphlet. You were visibly annoyed, you even motioned to the undisposed chemicals to show him that you two still had class.

“Can we talk about this when our grade isn’t at stake, please?” You asked.

You weren’t commanding for his benefit. You weren’t taking into account that he might be afraid to hear a negative opinion about himself. You weren’t looking at him like girls had before, like you were trying to pick him apart for your own entertainment. You were willing to put validation for Anton on the back burner because you had other things to do. When Anton would have girls gush over him you were benevolent, indifferent to his fake insecurities. 

The more you paid attention to your work rather than him, Anton found himself scrambling. He was working hard for your affection. When the teacher announced that class was over and lab reports were due the next morning he leapt at the chance to invite himself over. He was supposed to be shy and insecure, getting nervous over the mere thought of being alone with the opposite sex. His facade went over your head. Instead, Anton watched you do the cost-benefit analysis of inviting him over before you shrugged your shoulders.

“Alright. Just follow me.” You said before setting a ridiculously fast paced speed walk to the other side of campus.

But Anton followed you. He bobbed and weaved through crowds and essentially chased you across the common area while you continued on your pace. Other girls would walk with Anton, trying to pry information out from his clammy hands. You barely spared a second glance over your shoulder like you were trying to lose him. Anton followed you all the way to your dorm, then up the stairs, then waited for you beside your door as you put your backpack on your desk and pulled up a chair next to yours. You didn’t extend an invitation towards Anton to take a seat. 

He waits for you to step in. He’s laid the trap by taking off his hoodie even though you kept your room cold, and shuffled his seat closer to yours. He put his elbows on the table next to yours coming closer to the lines you stopped writing on your paper.

He laid the trap. He can see you hesitate, looking from him to the assignment and then back to him. Anton keeps his eyes on the paper, rubbing his fingers over his lips to stop himself from smiling.

“Do you work out?” You asked.

Your voice didn’t have the sultry infliction that girls usually had when they asked him that question. You didn’t reach across and squeeze his toned bicep or shamelessly drag your eyes over his broad shoulders. You asked the question simply, no other intention except for wanting an answer.

“I do. Sometimes.” Anton said.

You only hummed and went back to your paper. Anton scooted closer to you, hoping his Le Labo Lavande 31 and the hand across the back of your chair was invading your space enough for you to really get a good look at him. Anton watched your eyes dart again. You were nervous, eyes wide and Anton felt the rush.

“You smell nice.” You said.

The line was pulled from the trap. You’re caged in and Anton looks to you. He knows about the death grip you have on your pencil, it makes him brave enough to invade your space even more.

“You forgot to write your observations here.” Anton says, trying to make lab reports as sexy as possible. 

This assignment would’ve been abandoned a long time ago. If this was anyone else it would’ve never made it out of their backpack. You were adamant about your work, looking at the tips of his pretty fingers where you left a spot blank. He should have his report out too. He should be writing something just like you try to, instead Anton leans closer and he swears the pencil in your hand is going to break from the pressure. 

Is this how he should’ve been acting with those girls all that time? This is real nerves rolling off your body. The anxiety almost makes Anton nervous by extension, he shivers when he finally lets his hand on the back of your chair touch your body. You stiffen and he’s amazed. You went from being indifferent to being too aware. He feels you back away slightly, but when his hand tightens on your shoulder you lean in. You’re hot and cold, not knowing what you want. He can feel you tremble, and your eyes dart from his eyes to his lips. 

“I’ve never done anything before.”

Anton comes closer. His hand that pointed at a random thing on your paper turns into a fist as he distracts you completely. He brings himself forward until he’s in your line of sight, even when you try so hard to look at anything but him. He smirks when your eyes dart past him, and he fully lets his arm rest across your back. You’re malleable, before you refused to even bend to him but now you move from his slightest touch.

“What do you mean?” He asks. “You’ve never done what before?”

He should go for the nerds more often. The way you already seem sweaty and antsy just from thinking about what is happening makes Anton want to play with you some more. He knows it’s perverse, like a dog playing a smaller animal to death. He wants to see if you’ll twitch, if you’re playing dead just to try and make a run for it. 

“I’ve never—I know that—” Anton raises his eyebrows and nods to each one of your broken statements. “It just seems like—”

“Like what?” He smiles and nudges you. His smile is toothy, yours is tightlipped to a straight line. “C’mon. Talk to me.” He continues.

“You smell really good.” You repeat.

You’re the twitching body of a mouse in his jaws. He just smile and nods at your statement, how you go back to saying old things in an attempt to catch your footing. He forces you to sit in the uncomfortable silence. He waits for you to say something knowing you can’t, he waits for you to touch him even if you’re caught like a deer in the headlights.

“I look good too, right?” He starts drawing shapes on your shoulder.

He’s having too much fun. He’s entertained seeing your intelligence fail you. You’re stumped, you drop your pencil to fully clench your fist. 

The pencil is rolling back and forth on your lab report, the small sound is the only thing that speaks. You’re still desperately trying to figure out how you got into this situation, how one thing led to another so quickly that his hand is reaching underneath the sleeve of your shirt.

“You look good, Anton.” You agree.

“Thanks.” Anton smiles and you do too, averting your eyes and nodding to yourself to feign indifference. Anton looks down to your shirt, still playing with your skin underneath your sleeve. “You do too.” He says.

Another bout of silence. You let yourself be touched, hands still clenched on top of the table. Anton rests his hand on top of your fist, smoothing over the protruding veins trying to coax them open. This is more fulfilling than playing with popular girls. The game still hasn’t ended for him. He’s on the fifth consecutive jackpot when you finally open your mouth again.

“I don’t.” Your hand opens and Anton clasps over it, smiling to himself when it disappears. “I don’t know what you want me to do.” You stutter.

You’re too cute for your own good. Finally you look at him with big eyes and your eyebrows raised. You give into his touches a little more, finally warming up to all the attention. Still your pupils shake, and Anton brings his hand from your shoulder to your face to keep you from turning away.

“Can I make you feel good?” He asks.

You could barely nod before Anton was guiding you up from your chair and backing you towards your bed. He watched you stumble when the back of your legs hit the edge. You looked up at him, your pretty eyes already looking wet. Maybe he really did have a problem. Because he loved seeing them widen in surprise when he put his hands underneath your arms, lifting you up just enough to set you on the edge of your bed. He loved seeing your jostled expression and the tiny yelp when you landed so perfectly on your sheets.

Anton watched you stay in place, catching your breath from the sudden movement. He watched your chest still as his hands went to the bottom of his tank top. He’s grateful to have such a captive audience. There’s no way he can pretend to be shy after this. You’re astonished as he slowly lifts his shirt, and he watched you shamelessly stare at him before you realized he could see you. 

Anton let you eat him alive before he came up to you, until you had to tilt your head upwards to see him. You didn’t dare lift your hands from the bed, like he was going to disappear the moment you touched him. Like he was straight from a dream you only looked up to him, waiting for what he was going to do next. Anton wonders if you thought you’d end up in this position, with him looming over you and his hand creeping to a spot under your chin. He absolutely can’t stop doing this. The view is too pretty, your stillness is addicting. Like you’re too afraid to even breathe too loud in case it’d break the tension. He bends closer to your lips, eyes still open after you screw yours shut. You preemptively grip your mattress for dear life and he can’t help but smile.

He smiles into the kisses, each peck bringing you closer and closer to your mattress. When your back is against the sheets Anton climbs on, refusing the break contact. You look so pretty underneath him, eyes squeezing shut again when another wave of realization hits you. You’ve never been in this position before, with someone like Anton looming over you while still being so sweet. He runs his hand over the apple of your cheek, and fixes your shirt that left your stomach exposed.

“Is this okay?” Anton asks.

He knows it is, because your legs seemed to spread a little bit more and more with each passing second. By the time his hand drifts down to your neck you’re completely open, your soft pants bunching at the place Anton wants to touch you next. The valley of your chest gives him a straight path down, and your bent legs open further.

“Want me to touch you?” He asks.

He knows he’s cruel. You’re metaphorically dead and his face is covered in blood, but still he continues. He’s jumping around your body, reaching out a playful hand like you have the life to play back.

“Please touch me.” You whine pitifully.

Anton presses a chaste kiss to your forehead as his hands work past the elastic band of your pants and underwear. You flinch from his hands, then you preen your hips towards his fingers, then you pull back. He’s mocking when he coos at you, the time pressing a kiss to the side of your head. He almost feels bad. You’re clearly fighting against something, your eyes are shut tight as you press your head into the mattress. Anton tries kissing your eyes open, but it only makes you squeeze them tighter.

With you writhing underneath him, he took the time to look around your room. Your little pegboard above your desk where you had calendar marked with all the important due dates of upcoming assignments. Your neatly placed books and papers, your stuffed animals around your pillows. You didn’t make your bed this morning, instead laying on crumbled sheets and gripping whatever you could get your hands on. Your hand went to Anton’s forearm and clutched it, whimpering something that he couldn’t decipher.

“Does it feel good?” He asks.

You nod, and when Anton tries to pull away he feels your nails dig into his forearm. You seem unaware of what you’re doing, how you’re silently begging him to keep going. You’re just moving underneath him, already beginning to twitch helplessly. Anton purposefully pushes his fingers deeper into your clit until he knows he’s bringing you the smallest amount of pain. He’s pulling the strings, watching your body react to him because you can’t control it. By this point the girls would already be asking him to take his pants off, but you can’t even form a coherent thought. He’s having fun in his jeans, watching you twitch and twist and grip his arm with all your might.

“Anton.”

You flick your hips up and he presses his hand to your hip, pinning you to the bed. You still try to swivel, useless against his strength. He’s intrigued that you aren’t trying to be defiant but you simply can’t help it. All the other girls were pliant immediately, so desperate to please the quiet boy in class they underestimated. You’re defiant because you can’t handle it.

“What’s up?” He asks.

His completely even voice makes you whine. The flush across your cheeks tells him you’re embarrassed, red hot and real unlike his facade.

You don’t answer him. You just dig your nails into his arm and attempt to get his prodding fingers to slide in. He raises his eyebrows at your not-so-subtle attempts to get him to inside of you.

“You want me to finger you?” He asks.

You nod like a good girl and Anton almost feels bad for asking you the question in a mocking tone. He makes up for it by giving you what you want immediately, sucking in a deep breath to match your deep breath. He smiles when he sees you arch off the bed. This is so much more entertaining than anything else. Just two fingers has you making unfiltered noises and gripping the sheets. Anton has to bite his lip to stop himself from laughing, and he has half a mind to ask you if you’re okay in a serious tone. But he just continues driving his fingers into your hole.

He picks up the speed, just to hear the lewd sound you two make. It’s wet, Anton can already feel the mess on the palm of his hand. He pulls your waistband down to your knees, bringing your thighs closer together. He has to fight against your soft thighs clenching around his hand. He’s still able to drive his fingers in and out of your heat. He likes the resistance even though you clearly want more. Anton is surprised when you lift your shirt on your own accord. It’s obvious you’re doing it to relieve some of the heat you feel, but he’s still flattered nonetheless. His hand presses against your stomach, applying force to the lowest part.

“I can’t.” You whimper.

That’s when Anton finally laughs. He chuckles at how panicked you sound and how you turn your head in embarrassment.

“Do you want me to stop?” He asks while picking up the speed of his hand.

You nod your head but when Anton tries to pull his hand away you clench your thighs to keep him in place. He chuckles again, situating one legs on the side of your body and the other between your closed legs. He casts a shadow on you below him, and he can see your eyes open the slightest bit from his movements. He drives your legs apart with his knee, and continues pumping that spot deep in you that leaves you shaking your head.

“I can’t.” You whimper.

“You can.” Anton sees your eyes open, wide and staring directly at him as he drives your legs apart further. “You’re so close.” He says.

Your entire body moves from the speed of his fingers. Even your chests jumps underneath your shirt, and he wants to lift it up to reveal the rest of you. He lets you take it at your own pace since you’re giving him so much already. He just pinches and grabs a handful of your stomach, marveling in how soft you are.

“So cute.” Anton coos. “You had no idea, right?” He asks.

You shake your head and you don’t stop shaking it, like you’re trying to will away your impeding orgasm. Anton watches all of it. He’s never had a pretty girl twitch for him so much, or reach a greedy hand up to grip your chest. Something you do when you’re close, something he wants to do for you. His hand superimposes yours, and grips harder too. You’re arching into his palm and preening your hips on his fingers, and then he watches your body go rigid.

“You’re cumming.” Anton teases.

Your whimpering yes rips through the room, and Anton feels wound up himself. He has to set his sights on something else. Pretty confident girls are fun, but seeing your shame manifest in the way you push and pull at him is much more intoxicating. He likes that he knows what you want but you’re too scared to say it, it’s your body that has to act on its own to fulfill your needs. When you continue going, and your strangled moans turn to broken oh my God’s and your legs start shaking, Anton knows he won’t be able to get enough. He keeps pushing you further because he knows you can take it, and you continue whimpering. He doesn’t stop until you sound panicked, and your hand starts pushing his away.

He still looks down at you with a smile on his face. Your head is turned towards your fluffy comforter, exhaling and inhaling so hard you move the fur with your breath. He’s satisfied seeing what he’s done to you, and he’s even more amused when you turn your head to face him.

Your eyes are wide, your lips are swollen and slick from your mindless drooling. Anton feels something in his chest when your eyes move past his body to the prominent bulge in his pants. He’s a step ahead, shaking his head and moving back to rest on his haunches. That comes later, when he plays with you some more and you start voicing how badly you want to please him. When you reach your hand towards his crotch Anton grabs your hand instead, intertwining your fingers.

“I just wanted to make you feel good.” He says.

He’s a sweetheart, after all.

[lucysgraybird]

your first time with clark kent...

cw: size kink, p in v sex, unprotected sex, oral sex & fingering (f receiving)

clark kent is, before all, gentle. despite the brute force he's capable of, every touch tonight has been sweeter than honey. when he needs you laying down, he cups the back of your neck as he kisses you deep, slow, and guides your head to the mattress. by the time his mouth is trailing clumsily over your sternum, it feels as though it weighs something only he could lift, pressing each breath back into your body. clark props his chin on your hip, a concerned light in his blue eyes.

"this okay?" he murmurs, even the syllabic bob of his chin so close to where you're so desperate for him worsening the ache there.

"need you," you plead by way of a response. the whine in your voice has clark biting back a groan and dipping his head, his tousled curls (your doing) brushing the inside of your thigh.

soon, though, you're getting exactly what you wanted. what clark lacks in experience he makes up in enthusiasm and care, and he's giving his all to the way he's working you open on his tongue and on two thick fingers. it's a little messy and the sounds are debauched, but quickly he's crawling back up and kissing the taste of two orgasms into your mouth. he's trying to suppress his own desperation but it's becoming futile, short little ruts of his desire insistent against your thigh.

"clark," you manage between kisses. "mm, clark, want you, please."

"you've got me," he mumbles, and it's not even teasing. it's an earnest promise, that he's yours now and for as long as you'll let him be, any which way you want.

"no, wanna...fuck, fuck!"

he's jerked particularly hard on accident, sending his still-clothed bulge sliding over your bare cunt. sparks of pain-pleasure fly up your spine so fast it blows a fuse in the rational part of your brain, leaving you trying to wrestle your superhero onto his back.

to his credit, his midwestern sensibilities guide him to let you do just that. his big hands stabilize you where you're straddling his hips.

"are you okay?" clark asks. "what's happening, did i hurt you?”

you know you should reassure him that he didn't, that his greatest fear is not feeling the strength he can exert on you, but your mind isn't thinking the way it normally does. instead,

"need you in me," you say.

fumbling at his belt, you miss the way his eyes glaze and his head bows, the shaky inhalation he takes as his fingers dig into your hips.

"okay, baby," and his usual drawl is a little stronger, deeper. "okay, okay, hold on."

it takes just seconds, albeit uncoordinated ones, to get everything arranged. you're hovering over him and his cock is nudging your entrance, hard and urgent and huge like the rest of him. even just the breach of his tip brings a pressing stretch that has your forehead tipping to his shoulder.

"take your time, honey," clark says, even though his breath is jolting and his voice is strained.

it's not like you have a choice, and the feeling of easing down on him is just this side of uncomfortable. the ache of being all but split in two is mitigated by the gentle, stuttering drag of his fingers along the divot of your spine and the soft press of his nose at your temple, hairline. when you're fully seated, he kisses tears you hadn't even felt fall from your cheeks and babbles praise in your ear. he's feeling just as fried as you are with the gummy heat of you around him, but he's all too conscious that there's no sting nipping at the heels of his pleasure the way there is at yours.

the ensuing sex is slow and soft, the initial bite fading into pure euphoria as he rocks you on his cock. you both come, simultaneously somehow, with sharp cries traded into each other's mouths. once your brains fall back to earth, clark eases you up and off him and disappears to collect a damp cloth. soon, both of you clean save for the sheen of sweat coating your bodies, he has you tucked right into his side, head on his shoulder. feeling peaceful and sated and oh-so-right, drowsiness chases you both into a dreamless sleep.

[sashannarcy]

by chance do you agree that toh’s finale was underwhelming and toh as a show in general is dragging down disney channel animation and taking amphibia’s rightful place in the spotlight

wholeheartedly, with my entire chest: yes.

[fredgeorgegredfeorge]

Green-Eyed Monster | F.W.

For the first time ever, Fred Weasley finds himself jealous over the only person in the world he needn’t worry a bit about.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x f!reader

Word count: 8k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, oral + fingering (f!receiving, (lots of) dirty talk, name calling, praise/degradation, dom/sub dynamic, some nipple play, touch of a breeding kink, possessiveness/jealousy, some toxic themes, established relationship, swearing, drinking, arguing, angst, fluff, sorry if miss any!

first hp fic in a very long time! what better to post than this mess (jealous, possessive, sexy mess). basically pwp—let me know what you think! (Barely edited at all lmao my apologies)

You sat quietly at George’s desk, eyes focused on a piece of parchment as you both tried to break down the recipe George had scribbled down. There was a hiccup, a hitch in the plan of brewing a batch of Euphoria Elixir for the joke shop, and it was pushing back your plans to place them on the shelves this week. After a few hours of quiet deliberation on his lonesome, George decided to seek your help in hopes of speeding up the process.

So, the two of you put your heads together and re-read the ingredient list a million times, wondering how the hell it turned out murky green instead of sunshine-y yellow. The cauldron sat smoldering across the room, a rain cloud above it as the bubbly mixture spilled over the sides. Upon first glance, you had stated the absolute obvious.

“Isn’t that supposed to be a rainbow?” You raised an eyebrow, looking at your brother-in-law as he collapsed in his chair.

“Yes, you git.” George rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. You shot him a sharp look, warning him to be nice if he wanted your help. You knew George didn’t mean any of the insults—he was simply frustrated and maybe even a little embarrassed that he could not figure it out by himself. “Sorry, Y/N.” He conceded, realizing he came on a bit too strong.

“S’alright.” You assured him, stepping towards the desk where he sat. “Where’s the ingredient list? We’ll start there.” You offered, knowing you would help no matter how poor of a mood he was in. You loved George almost as much as you loved Fred, if you had to compare. Even if it was in a different way, you had a hard time refusing him when he used the same charm tactics as his twin brother.

After spending so many years in a relationship with Fred, it would be obscure for you not to have a bond with the closest person to him. Over the years, he’d surpassed a friend and had grown into your own brother. You were certain that no matter where life took you and Fred, George would always hold a special place in your heart. When the two opened their shop in Diagon Alley, you volunteered most of your free time to help them in any way you could, and whether it was tweaking new products or doing some of the dirty work, you never really minded.

That evening in specific, Fred was off on some ‘official business’, which really just meant meeting with a potential product buyer at The Leaky Cauldron. Last month, George took the burden of doing so, and they decided it was only fair for him to do it this time. Unfortunately for you, as much as you loved supporting them, it did interfere with your evening plans with him. So, sulking and trying your best to swallow it down, you distracted yourself with stocking shelves downstairs to prepare for another busy day ahead.

You were actually near grateful when George emerged from the office, calling out to you in desperation. It gave you a break from the monotonous back and forth, and someone to talk to. If it could not be Fred, you decided George was the next best.

“So, what’d’ya think it could be?” George asked, peeking over the cauldron that was still spitting back at him. He dodged out of the way, trying his best not to get any of the splashback on his new jumper.

“Well, from what you’ve told me, seems like you put all the right stuff in.” You deducted, pursing your lips slightly as you read over the list for what seemed like the millionth time. “Sad as it sounds, I doubt we can save it now, even if we figure out what happened.” You said, recalling your potions knowledge that Snape had relayed over the years.

“Right, but I’d like to know what’s wrong before I try again.” He explained, taking a moment to look over your sad expression. His eyebrows furrowed, his head cocking to the side as he tried to figure out where it was coming from. “What’s got your knickers in a twist?” Your eyes flickered upwards to meet his, your cheeks tinged red from the heat of the room. Your lips dipped into a frown as you shrugged your shoulders, brushing him off so you did not need to explain yourself. “I know you better than that. Come on, now.” He urged, placing his palms flat against the desk as he leaned towards you, a challenging look in his eye.

You narrowed your brows, keeping a stony expression as you met his gaze. “What’s it to you, Weasley?” You shot back, unsure of where your defensive nature was coming from. Perhaps you weren’t willing to discuss your relationship problems with your boyfriend’s twin brother, or maybe it was because you felt foolish for being upset at all.

“Reckon we’re past that, hmm? Your problems are our problems, and all.” He responded, also unsure of why you were being so reserved with your thoughts. Usually, you were an open book, especially with the two of them.

“My problems aren’t your problems, Georgie.” You shook your head, shutting down the ridiculous notion. “Let’s get back to the real problem, yeah?”

“No, I don’t think so.” George disagreed, his concern now over something completely different. “Is it about Fred?” At that, the tips of your ears began to burn and you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. “Ah, I see.” A devious smile crossed his lips.

“It’s not a big deal.” You covered your tracks, tapping the ink-less quill against the worn parchment.

“I have a hard time believing you, considering you just lied to me.”

“Lied is a strong word,” you rolled your eyes, quickly realizing that there would be no escaping the conversation. “I didn’t lie about anything.”

“What’s he done?”

“Nothing!” You exclaimed, a dry laugh leaving your lips. “It’s just… I’m just being dramatic.” And it’s true, you were being dramatic. Well, maybe not fully, but that’s what you were trying to convince yourself of. “I just miss him, I suppose. I know you both have been busy, but I think maybe I underestimated how busy you would actually be.” You continued, knowing it was wrong to confide in his twin brother about your relationship issues. Still, it felt good to get it off your chest, to voice the concern and have someone shoot you down, just so you knew you were being irrational. “This is the third night in a row we’ve canceled our plans. I’ll get over it. It’s no big deal.”

“That’s a big deal.” He hummed, sympathizing with you to make you feel better. “Bloody inconsiderate, if you ask me.” But you weren’t asking him, and somehow his justification of your feelings only made you feel worse. “What? Not allowed to speak my mind?”

“No—“ you let out a defeated sigh, slumping down in your seat. “I know that, but I was hoping you would tell me I’ve gone mad, instead.”

“Blimey, Y/N, you’re allowed to be upset. We're busy, yeah, but you’re still his girlfriend.” George said, jumping slightly when the rain cloud above the cauldron let out a crack of thunder. “If you’d rather, we can forget the elixir and grab dinner instead. I’m not Fred, but I’m pretty damn close.” He gave you a cheeky smile, earning an honest laugh from you.

“S’alright, Georgie. Thank you, though.” You appreciated his kindness, but you were sure it would only make your predicament even worse, considering Fred’s recently acquired short-fuse when it came to you and George spending so much time together. It was odd for him to be so protective, so jealous of the one person in the world he needn’t worry about, but it seemed as though the new trait was permanent. Perhaps it came from the fact he was also missing you due to your busy schedules, and how it sometimes seemed you and George were most often left at the shop alone.

“You know, I have noticed that lately.” George continued, leaning against the desk as he reminisced over the last few weeks. “Always seems to be us stuck here together.”

“Mhm.” You mumbled, slowly realizing that you weren’t as insane as you previously thought if he was noticing all of the same things. “Let’s just figure this out so I can get home.”

So you did. A grueling hour spent recounting George’s every step in brewing the elixir left the two of you puzzled and even more frustrated. By that point in the night, you were hunched over the long list of his steps you had jotted down so you could (hopefully) discover what he missed.

“I dunno, Georgie.” You sighed. “Seems like you did everything—“ you cut yourself off, leaning closer to the page on the desk as you caught something you hadn’t seen before.

“What?” He asked, his head snapping towards you. “What is it?”

“You said when you let it simmer, it was turquoise.” You said, looking up at him.

“Yeah, so?” He replied, confused why it was such a big deal.

“It’s meant to be blue.” You explained, a grin on your face as you relayed the information to him.

“Turquoise… blue… same thing, innit?” He asked, standing and walking over to you.

“Maybe to you.” You giggled, pointing to the piece of paper where he missed the step. “After you add the shrivelfig, you have to stir it until it changes color.” He walked up behind you, placing one hand on your arm as he leaned over your opposite shoulder. He smelled of butterbeer, likely due to the one he’d been nursing the entire time you sat together. You immediately noticed the warmth of his body, how similar it felt to how Fred touched you, but how drastically different it was all the same.

“Blimey, you’re right!” He exclaimed, his voice still soft so he was not yelling in your ear. “What would I do without you?” He gave your arm a gentle squeeze, leaning closer and pressing the side of his face to yours in a makeshift hug. His hand dropped to your back, lingering there as the conversation continued.

“It’s nothing, really.” You smiled, closing your eyes to enjoy the warmth for a moment. “So now you know. You can do it again, but make sure to stir it until it’s blue. By tomorrow, we’ll have it bottled and on the shelves just like we planned.”

“Our number one girl, saving the day yet again.” He sighed in relief. “I better get to it—“

Before his thought could finish, the door to the office swung open, cutting him short. Your eyes turned upwards, landing on a slightly drunken version of the boyfriend who’d abandoned your evening plans. The gloss of his eyes and the goofy smile on his lips led you to believe so, and the redness on the apples of his cheeks only solidified it. Only his cheeky grin didn’t last too long when he processed the scene in front of him, how close the two of you were, how heavy George’s hand seemed on your back and how rosy your own cheeks were.

Quickly, his jaw tightened, his gaze narrowing as he tried to decipher the whole situation. His nostrils flared ever so slightly, and his arms raised to cross over his chest. Immediately, you knew what you’d be in for; a long, tiresome argument that changed absolutely nothing. Instead of fighting the silent accusations, defending yourself for no real reason at all, you watched him with the same intensity while you awaited a snide comment.

“So what’s all this, then?” Fred asked, his face clearly conveying all of his emotions.

“Helping Georgie make the elixir while you were off getting sloshed at The Leaky Cauldron.” You muttered, noticing George straighten himself up in hopes of avoiding any further damage.

“I was not getting sloshed, I was doing business.” He corrected, defensive over the fact. “S’pose you were hoping I’d take a little longer, yeah? Give you some more time to cozy up with my brother?”

“Blimey, Fred. If you took any longer, I’d imagine you’d have to move in with the lad.” George took your side on the matter. “At least she wouldn’t have to worry about you missing dinner again.” At that, Fred’s eyes cut to you, immediately understanding where the underlying tension was coming from.

“Is that right?” Fred’s voice was no louder than a whisper, all of the pieces clicking together in an instant. “I don’t suppose the two of you had dinner? Let him fill in for me while I was gone?”

“No, we did not.” You snipped, standing as you gathered the ingredients for George’s second attempt at the brew.

“Yeah, right. What else did he fill in for, sweetheart? Anything you think I should know?” At that, your eyes widened and your face turned red. Your entire body felt like it was engulfed in flames, appalled that he would even think such a thing.

“Piss off, Fred.” You muttered, stepping out from behind the desk as tears stung your eyes. George shot you a sympathetic look as you pushed past his brother and out into the stairwell. You trodded down to the main level, swiping fallen tears away from your cheeks as you rushed out the front entrance of the building.

The cool air of the night was nice, especially after spending so long cramped up in the tiny office space, but it was not as freeing as you might have hoped once you heard footsteps following behind you. Without acknowledging him, you pulled your keys from your pocket, hoping that maybe he forgot his own set and you wouldn’t have to deal with his drunken arguments tonight if you got inside before him.

Of course, you knew that was childish and cruel, because despite being upset with him, loving him was the only thing you knew how to do. You unlocked the front door, holding it open with your boot-clad foot as he stumbled his way behind you. As soon as he passed through the doorway, you continued on your journey to ignore him and tossed your keys on the counter.

“Hey,” Fred reached out, his warm hand landing on your arm, stopping you from running any further from him.

“What?” You snapped, immediately regretting the harshness of your tone. He recoiled at the sound, shocked that you spoke to him in such a way. Usually the two of you saw eye to eye on everything, and in your long standing relationship arguing had never been your thing. Until you left school, you were certain the two of you had never been angry at each other, ever.

“What the bloody hell was that about? I leave for a few hours, and the two of you get on like that? Does that happen every time I step out?” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes again, wondering why this became such a problem in the few short months you’d been graduated.

“Merlin, Fred. You’re acting like you caught us in a broom closet.” You tried again to make your way to the bedroom, unwilling to argue a point he knew was blasphemous anyhow. “We were working, not fucking.”

“Yeah, but I bet you would’ve let him, right?” He grabbed your hand, spinning you back around to face him. He pulled you into him, his athletic build never leaving him even after he stopped playing quidditch. “Bitching and moaning cause I couldn’t be home to take you to dinner… if you were so upset, why didn’t you come to me, princess? Tell me what was wrong?” You could smell fire whiskey on his breath, feeling his chest heaving with anger against your own. As angry as you were, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of arousal run through you. The slight sneer on his face, the fire in his eyes, and the protective hold he had on you was sending your head spinning with thoughts much less pertinent to the topic at hand.

“Maybe I would have if you spared me the time of day.” You argued, finding yourself short of breath as you realized just how much he towered over you. “But, as it seems, you’ve been too damn busy to spare me a second glance.”

“Christ, when did you get so needy?” His rebuttal came easy, like he’d been waiting to have this fight for weeks. “Weren’t satisfied at home, so you thought my brother could do it for you?”

“Are you daft?” You hissed, feeling his fingers tighten on your hips. You hated that the feeling made you forget about your troubles, urging you to push the argument to the side and settle it in a better, more pleasurable way. “If that’s what I wanted, you think I’d be up here arguing with you?”

“That depends, sweetheart. Were you planning on getting caught?” He raised an eyebrow, the thud of his heart against his chest letting you know just how worked up he was. There was no way he truly believed you would do that to him, especially after all you had been through together. You wondered if maybe the lack of time spent with each other was getting to him, souring his thoughts because he missed you just as much as you missed him. “We may be identical, Princess, but he could never give you what I can.”

You hated to admit it, but for some strange reason, jealousy looked really good on him.

“What, a headache and a poor mood?” You decided to play his game if he wasn’t willing to listen to reason. If he wanted to fight, you could do it too. “I’m sure he could manage. In fact, he could probably do a hell of a lot more.” That seemed to strike a nerve in him, pushing him over the edge in an instant and changing the entire mood hanging heavy in the room. He no longer wanted to talk, but rather prove a point.

He took a step backwards, never easing his hold as he pushed you towards the kitchen table. He didn’t stop until your ass hit the edge, a mischievous look in his eye replacing the earlier annoyance. He had you locked in place, no intent to back down as he stared down at you over the bridge of his nose. Then, a small smirk turned the corner of his lips, leading you to believe he was also thinking of a much more simple way to solve your problems.

“Maybe you just need a reminder of who you belong to, yeah?” He asked, his voice quieter than it was before. You felt your mouth run dry, your eyes never leaving his as a dull ache between your legs began to pester you.

That would make you feel better, but he had pissed you off enough that you wanted to refuse him the satisfaction.

“Maybe we should get Georgie up here. According to you, he’d be the one to set me straight.” There was a slight venom in your tone letting him know you wouldn’t be letting anything go so easily. A low chuckle shook his shoulders, his eyes gleaming with a sinister look you weren’t sure you’d ever seen from him before that night. He shook his head ever so slightly, playing into you as he reached one arm behind you.

Your heart raced as you awaited a response, wondering if maybe you pushed him too far and crossed a boundary you could not double back on. You didn’t have to wonder long, because without a second thought, he cleared all of the items littering the table with one swift move of his arm. Papers scattered everywhere, floating through the air and landing all over the floor. Broken products and half finished merchandise for the shop tumbled off the edge, falling less than gracefully onto the tile below. Without ever breaking eye contact, he raised an eyebrow, daring you to say it again.

“You think he can fuck you better than I can?” He asked, giving you the opportunity to change your mind.

“Right now? Yeah.” You spat, wondering if he’d ever drop the act and get on with his day. “Seems like all you want to do is get on my nerves.”

“Yeah?” He challenged, his face so close to yours you could feel his breath on your skin. The tip of his nose grazed your own, his normally warm and comforting irises engulfed by his lust-blown pupils. Or perhaps it was anger that gave him the new look—you weren’t quite sure. “You’d rather go home with him at night? Wake up next to him every morning? Is that really what you want, princess?” He taunted, knowing very well that your heart was his, even if he found himself caught up in a few moments of doubt.

Still neglecting to give him any gratification, you nodded your head despite the sickening feeling that washed over you at the thought. As if he called your bluff before you ever said it aloud, he laughed at the certainty in your action, which only seemed to anger you further.

“If that’s the case, seems like I’ve got my work cut out for me tonight.” He responded, brushing the comment off as if it were nothing. If there was one thing Fred couldn’t ever turn down, it was a challenge, and since coming upstairs with you, it was only further proven to him that’s all this was. “Maybe I’ve gotten too comfortable, sweetheart. After so long, you think you’d know that you’re mine, huh?” Before he continued his tyrant, he used his hands on your hips to lift you onto the table with ease. The ache between your legs had grown stronger, more intense and impossible to ignore. You could feel the wetness soaking through your panties, and the thought of his strong arms lifting you so carelessly only made you spiral further. “Maybe I expect too much of you.” He theorized, recognizing the gleam in your eyes because he’d seen it a thousand times before.

He let his hands trail under the hem of your jumper, settling on the button of your jeans as he undid it with ease. You never let your eyes trail from his face, realizing that no matter how upset you were, it could never take away from how much you loved him. He was beautiful, his fiery red hair and the freckles splattered across his cheeks and nose creating a perfect picture. The softness of his complexion and the gentleness hidden deep in his expression assured you that whatever the two of you were doing was nothing more than an act. He knew you were his just as well as you did, but he knew the only way to settle the (admittedly, misguided) fear was to hear you say it aloud.

You helped him pull the fabric from your legs, wrapping your arms around his neck as you lifted your hips from the table. He discarded the clothing on the floor, paying no mind to it as he returned his hands to your bare legs. His eyes searched your face, carefully looking for any sign of discomfort. Instead, he was met with a pleading expression that only seemed to fuel his too large ego even further.

“No matter,” he disregarded his earlier rant, his eyes growing heavy as his hand fell between your legs. His fingertips grazed the thin fabric separating him from your core, a shiver running down his spine as he noticed the arousal that had soaked straight through. “I don’t mind having to show you. Least I’ll get to have my fun too, yeah?” He applied slight pressure to your aching clit, watching to see your reaction. Your eyebrows knitted together, your lips parting slightly as your hips moved forward into his hand, your body betraying your mind and begging him for something more.

At that, a grin encased his face, happy to see that he hadn’t lost his touch, even if your lives were vastly different and ever-changing by the day. He knew exactly how to make you feel good, and he took pride in it.

“See, Princess? She’ll always tell me the truth.” He taunted, his voice quiet as his eyes trailed down to his hand. You swallowed hard, knowing he had you in a stalemate. “Tell me again, who do you think knows how to make you feel good? Who does it best?” He was on a power trip, unwilling to slow down until he heard you admit it. Still, you stood your ground, pressing your lips tightly together so not a single sound could pass through. His grin faded, slowly sinking into a scowl as your disobedience remained clear.

He removed his finger from you, tracing the hem of your panties as he hooked his finger through the side of the fabric resting on your hip. He awaited an answer, giving you the opportunity to change your mind. When you kept your stoicism, he gave one, hard tug on the lacy fabric until it snapped in two. He used his other hand to do it to the opposite side, giving himself easy access to you without hearing a complaint on your end.

“So you don’t care who’s between your legs?” He continued, unrelenting as you stared him down. “Doesn’t matter who, as long as there’s a cock in you? As long as someone’s taking care of your pretty pussy?” Your cheeks flushed, your chest burning as the filthy words washed over you. “Doesn’t matter, sweetheart. When I’m done with you, I’ll be the only person you can think of. Surely then you won’t be able to forget who you belong to.”

His hand connected with your bare cunt, his fingers trailing through your arousal and settling over your clit as he began to trace slow circles into the sensitive area. Your legs trembled at the contact, finally feeling some relief from the nagging sensation that had been taking over.

“Fuck. Fred.” You whispered, giving yourself away immediately. He let out a low hum, pleased with the sound and knowing he was the reason for it. He had you where he wanted you, and now he just had to keep up the pace. You could feel his hardening length against your leg, distracting you completely from the pent up anger and frustration.

“That’s it.” He encouraged, his middle finger sinking inside of you as he let his thumb take over on your clit. “That’s my girl.” He made sure to accentuate the claim, never once letting you forget it. “All you needed was a little help remembering.” Slowly, he pumped his finger into you, keeping time with his thumb as he began to work you towards a climax. “You want to say it for me? Tell me what I already know?” Instead of responding, you let out a whine, your hips bucking forward into his hand. Although it wasn’t what he was looking for, it was just enough for him to keep going.

He curled his fingers as he pumped them into you, begging for a reaction as your hand wrapped around his bicep for support. You felt the tense of his muscles as he worked at you, only pushing you closer to insanity. You were his, undoubtedly and wholeheartedly, and you would be crazy to ever want anyone else.

“Stubborn little thing tonight.” He remarked, his eyes focused on the point in which his hand met with you, never breaking his stare as he watched his fingers disappear into you. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Need more, Freddie.” You replied, your eyes squeezed shut as you felt the pleasure pulsing under your skin. It had been a long time since you felt him this way, and your impatience was quite clear.

“My little whore needs more?” He teased, applying a little more pressure with his thumb. A gasp fell from your lips, sending your upper half leaning forward until your forehead rested against his. “Asking a lot from someone you aren’t being very good for.” He chastised you for your behavior despite being the one that caused the problem in the first place.

“M’sorry, my love. S-so sorry.” You rushed out, his fingers brushing against the sweet spot inside you only he knew how to find.

“That’s not what I want to hear sweetheart, and you know it.” His tone was firm, unrelenting as he continued his torment. You let out a groan of frustration, wishing he’d quicken the pace and give you what you wanted, even though you refused to give in to him.

He leaned forward, closing the gap between your mouths as he grew tired of waiting for the words he wanted to hear. He tasted like the whiskey that had been fuelling his poor mood, sweet and bitter all at once as his tongue grazed your bottom lip. You hated how easy it was for him to turn you into a mess, hated how easy it was for him to make you forget you were angry at all. You pulled him closer to you, holding his arm tightly so he would not pull away. You were stubborn, but despite that, you were showing him everything he wanted to see through your actions alone.

You broke from the kiss as a particularly intense wave of euphoria pulled your stomach. Your forehead continued to rest on his, holding you upright as he continued to give you just enough to keep you satisfied.

“Say it, princess.” His voice was low, raspy and laced with desire as he watched you turn into a mess below him. “Tell me you’re all mine. Tell me I’m the only one who can make you feel like this.” Instead, you connected your mouths again, letting a desperate moan out at the same time. He drank in the sound, his cock throbbing as his hips jutted forward into nothing. He was almost more desperate than you were, which only allowed for you to take him less seriously.

“G-gonna have to try harder than that.” You found a peculiar pleasure in leaving him on edge, giving him a taste of his own medicine as he continued to torture both of you at once. “Show me why I should say it, Freddie. Seems like you’re all t-talk.” You stuttered, tripping over your words as you tried to keep your composure.

He withdrew his hand from you, making you cry out in frustration from the loss of pleasure. Your eyes met his, desperation written all over your face as you protested his actions. Silently, he sunk to his knees between your legs, pulling you to the edge of the table by your hips. He didn’t spare a single glance at your face before his tongue connected with your core, the warm wetness of his tongue even more pleasurable than the rough pad of his thumb.

You laid back on the table, your hands sinking downwards and tangling in the soft locks of hair. Although you were denying him of the statement he wanted to hear, you could not deny that your last argument was wholly untrue. Fred was determined to prove a point, and he was doing it well.

You weren’t far off from an orgasm, his tongue making quick work at pushing you to the edge. The sounds falling from your lips were telling of your current state, and as delirium began to set in, your defenses began to break down.

He suctioned his lips around your clit, adding his fingers to the mix and returning to his earlier pace to torture you further. Every nerve in your body was ablaze with desire, need seeping from every pore as you realized just how badly you needed the release. Sick of the game, you finally broke in fear he would leave you hanging yet again.

“Oh, god.” You gasped, your legs resting over his shoulders in attempt to stop the constant trembling of the lips. “I’m yours, Fred, fuck!” You exclaimed, a sheen layer of sweat forming over your forehead as the knot in your belly began to tighten. “Only you can make me feel this good. Nobody else.” You whined, your fingers tightening on the locks of hair as you began to tug at the strands. You could feel him smiling against you, happy to finally hear you admit the truth.

Pleased with your confessions, he curled his fingers against your g-spot one last time, generously giving you the very thing you’d been pleading for. In a mess, your entire body tensed as the pleasure took hold. The orgasm washed over you, leaving your heart racing against your chest and your head swirling with filthy thoughts for the boy between your legs. A hum of approval let you know he was more than happy with your performance, and he kept his pace until he felt you relax against the table below you.

Once he knew he’d gotten the most out of you, he rose to his feet, towering over you as you laid below him. In the dim moonlight, you could see your orgasm glistening on his chin, only furthering his cockiness as he ran his tongue over his bottom lip so he did not waste a drop of it.

“Always taste so sweet, princess.” He whispered, using one hand to free himself from his pants and his boxers. “And it’s all for me.” He continued, slipping his shirt from his head. He used it to wipe his face clean before tossing it on the floor to join the growing pile of clothes. With shaky hands, you lifted your upper half from the table and pulled your own jumper over your head. “Isn’t that right?” He stepped toward, settling between your legs as his hands ghosted over your bare thighs.

You let out a whimper, his grip landing on your already sore hips as his eyes raked over your entire frame. Your gaze flickered to his cock, hard and aching for relief as he continued to tease you. His fingers tickled your stomach as he trailed his touch upwards, his palm landing flat against your breast as he gave it a gentle squeeze. He let the pad of his thumb brush over your hardened nipple, sending another wave of pleasure through you.

“Answer me, sweetheart.” He wasn’t playing anymore; he wanted to hear the words, and he was done with your obstinacy. He pinched your nipple between his thumb and forefinger,

“Yes,” you huffed, already forgetting the pleasure from your first climax as a whole new wave of need began to take over. “I’m yours, Fred. All yours.” You reiterated your earlier statement, now willing to do whatever he wanted of you to prove the point.

“Tell me how bad you want it.” He shot you a twisted little smile, almost as if he was getting off just from the thought of you begging for him.

“I need it, baby. Need to feel you, please.” You whined, reaching for his arms and pulling him closer. “Want you so bad, Fred. Been waiting all night for it.” You felt the tip of his cock connect with your cunt, his expression faltering as soon as he felt the wetness.

“God, you make it so hard to be upset with you.” He hissed the words through his teeth, using his hand to guide himself through your folds as he sucked in a sharp breath. He settled himself just over your already sensitive clit, pushing his hips forward ever so slightly to apply pressure to the spot. “Sound so pretty when you’re begging to be fucked.”

Slowly, he let his tip run back through your arousal, settling the head just at your entrance. He pushed himself forward, but just barely. You whimpered as you braced yourself for the feeling, only to be let down when he stopped himself from going any further.

“Fred,” you warned, catching his eye so he could see your desperate face. You hoped that if he did, he would stop being such a tease. “Please fuck me.”

“What was that?” He smirked, turning his head slightly so his ear was closer to you. “Didn’t quite catch it.”

“Fred, stop—“ you cut yourself off, letting out a huff of annoyance. You knew chastising him for his actions would only make him less likely to give in, even if it was incredibly hard to hold it back. “I need you to fuck me.” You repeated, clearer and louder in hopes of swaying his decision. “Can’t wait any longer, baby. Please.”

At that, he pushed forward the rest of the way, sending your entire body raising with goosebumps. The stretch as he filled you was exactly what you craved, and as he reached the hilt, his tip brushed against your g-spot so delicately that it almost made you come undone right then and there. Your eyelids grew heavy with satisfaction, focusing on how full you felt with him inside of you, knowing that he for certain would always be the one for you.

“That good enough for you, Princess? This is what you wanted?” He asked, letting himself rest inside you for a moment. He felt your walls flutter around him, pulling him even further and making it harder for him to resist you.

“Mhm,” you hummed, giving him a tired nod of agreement. You could feel him throbbing inside of, desperate for a release just like you had been moments before, but he was still trying to prove his point.

“Nobody else gets to have you like this, sweetheart. You’re mine.” He whispered, now sober from the alcohol but intoxicated by an even stronger, deadlier force; you. “He couldn’t fuck you like this, and you know it.” As he spoke, he withdrew his hips and slammed them forward into you again. The action stole the breath from your lungs, twisting your stomach with pleasure as your nails scratched over his skin.

He began at a pace, slower than normal but the force behind his movements making your head spin. You moaned quietly, lost within the feeling of being so close to him. He never failed to take your breath away, never failed to amaze you with his every move. You were so in love with him it sometimes felt like there was no room within your heart for anyone or anything else.

“Tell me, Y/N.” He ordered, his stare never wavering as he fucked into you. As much as he wanted to succumb to the sensation of you wrapped around him, he found it hard to push the thoughts of your earlier arguments out of his head. “You think he’d fuck you like this? You think he could make you feel this good?”

“No, Freddie.” You gasped, feeling the strength of his thrusts increase, sending the legs of the table wobbling. His fingers tightened on your hips, likely leaving behind angry red marks that would fade into reminders of him for days to come.

“That’s it, Princess.” He panted, his chest heaving as he tried to resist the pull of pleasure. “Don’t you think, not even for a second, that anyone can give you half of what I can.” You both knew this to be fact; nobody in the entire world could ever compare to him. “And why do you think that is?”

“‘C-cause I’m yours,” you managed to stutter out the response, watching him as the statement washed over. He brought his hand to your thigh, your legs wrapped tightly around you as he pulled you back on him with every thrust. His head fell back on his shoulders, the dim light of the room casting a beautiful hue over his already breathtaking features.

“That’s right,” he grunted, slamming his hips forward again. There was a thin layer of sweat sheen on his chest, the toned muscles of his abdomen flexing every time he moved. The exposed columns of his neck made your mouth water, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed back his own groans of pleasure. “Was that why you were mouthing off? You just needed someone to take care of you? Just needed me to fuck you?”

“God, yes.” You moaned, feeling the pressure in your belly begin to reach a peak.

“You gonna cum for me, sweetheart? All over my cock?” He smiled, looking down at you so he could appreciate the view. “Come on now, making a fucking mess of it.”

“Fuck,” you whimpered, his words hitting you hard and causing the tightening knot in your belly to tense even further.

“That’s my pretty girl. Just like that.” He continued to encourage you, studying your expression as pleasure began to twist it.

It didn’t take much more for you to descend into another orgasm, your entire body quivering as you cried out for him, singing his name like a hymn and he was the god in which you prayed to. Your throat was raw, raspy from the constant string of moans passing your lips. You were tired, almost too fucked out to continue on, but he was having none of it. He didn’t slow his pace as you came down from the high, instead speeding up and ensuring that he pulled your entire body down on him as he fucked into you.

“Freddie, please.” You breathed, feeling the threat of overstimulation begin to creep in. He would have had sympathy had he known you couldn’t take it, but he was confident in your ability to keep up with him.

“What’s wrong, Princess? Wanted it so bad and now you can’t handle it?” He asked, his eyes glazed over with lust as he felt himself approaching his own orgasm. You frowned at his words, now on a quest to prove your own point as you tried to ignore the stinging beginning to set in.

“I can t-take it.” You huffed, a shiver running down your spine as he reached upwards and palmed your breast. He gave the supple flesh a gentle squeeze, his eyes closing in bliss as he let himself slip out of the persona he had created.

“Being so good for me—just a bit longer now.” He whispered, his voice far away as his eyes settled over your face once more. “Bloody hell, Y/N.” he groaned, his forehead creasing as his eyebrows furrowed together. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

He slipped his hand between your legs, his thumb landing atop your clit. He traced slow circles, knowing you were a bit further behind him and unwilling to climax without giving you at least one more. He could see how tired you were, but it did not deter him from his commitment to pleasing you.

“I love you, Fred.” You whispered, softened entirely by the sweet look in his eyes. All of his previous anger fled, leaving him just as the boy you’d fallen so hopelessly for.

“I love you, sweetheart.” He hummed, his hips stuttering and his stature faltering. “Give me one more, yeah? I know you can do it.” And he was right, your entire body was ablaze with another orgasm much more powerful than the last two.

“Together?” You gasped, reaching up and settling your palm on his cheek.

“Yeah? You want to cum with me?” He encouraged your train of thought. “Want me to fill that pretty cunt? Really show you who you belong to?”

“Fuck yes, please.” You cried, your fingertips tangling in the locks of hair hanging over his ears. Your walls clenched around him, drawing him in and effortlessly finishing what you had started.

You felt his hips stall, a low growl leaving his lips as he pulled you down on him one last time. He managed to whisper your name as he spilled his release into you, the feeling of him filling you completely sending you spiraling on your own accord. You let out a defeated sigh, the tail end of it turning into a whine as your body went rigid. Your nails scratched at the skin of his arm, your hand on him the only thing keeping you tied to earth instead of floating up and through the clouds.

The both of you rode the high together, euphoria infiltrating every nerve in both of your bodies as he leaned down towards you. Ever so gently, he laid his head on your chest, which was still heaving as you tried to catch up from the lack of oxygen. He placed a plethora of small kisses against the warm skin, his eyes fluttering closed as he appreciated the comfort that came with your company.

Silence hung heavy between you for a few moments, neither of you sure where to go from there. You were still strung out on bliss, barely remembering what got the two of you in the position until he spoke again.

“M’sorry, sweetheart.” His voice barely broke through the room, so timid and shy that you almost missed it completely. “I know you’d never do that. Just got in my head, I s’pose.”

“I… I get it.” You sighed, twisting a lock of his hair. “If I walked in on that, after us being so.. you know. I’d likely feel it too.” You confessed. “I was upset that we had to cancel dinner. I am upset, but not at you.” You tried your best to explain yourself despite exhaustion eating away at your mind. “I’m just upset because I miss you. You’re so busy now, and I’m happy for you, really, but I miss you too.”

“You think I was bloody happy about it?” Fred chuckled, the tip of his fingers tracing shapes into your skin. “I’d much rather be here, with you.” At that, you relaxed completely, understanding that you had gotten too far into your own head. “It’s my favorite place to be. Always has been.”

“Mine too, Fred.” You hummed, smiling softly at the thought.

“I reckon I was a bit jealous, ‘specially at the thought of you and George spending so much time with each other. Would rather it be me, you know, sitting at the shop and laughing with you all night… taking you out for dinner… loving you.” Another gentle kiss was placed to your chest, just before he looked up to meet your eyes. The soft, warm, familiar sight made you feel at ease. He was back to being your Fred, the one you missed all along.

“Darling, you have nothing to be jealous about.” You promised, smiling as he placed a quick peck on your lips. “Though, if it means we get to have brilliant sex like that, by all means do what you have to do.” You explained. “Bloody brilliant, at that.” Without any further words, the two of you descended into a fit of laughter and the clouds that previously hung above your head seemingly cleared in an instant, easily proving to him there was really never a need to worry at all.

[hoshigray]

hear me out🙏 imagine student body president!sukuna and delinquent!reader😍 same scenario but just switched

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i hear you, loud AND clear !!

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: student body president! Sukuna x bratty delinquent fem/afab! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern setting; you and kuna are college seniors - oral (m! + slight f! receiving) - face + throat fucking - clitoral play (sucking) - impact play (cheek + pussy slaps) - fingering (f! receiving) - standing + piledriver positions - unprotected sex - overstimulation - dumbification - degradation (brat, cumslut, pig, slut, whore) - blackmail - dick piercing (frenulum) - mention of drool/spit and tears.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.7k

If there’s one thing that Sukuna loves more than anything, it’s power.

For Sukuna, the pinnacle of power is not just a status but a destiny he believes is his alone. In his heart of hearts, he knows he is the one who can keep this school in check, his control palpable in every corner of the campus.

Having Ryōmen Sukuna as the student body president of the senior class was either the best or worst thing, depending on who was asked. Although intimidated by some faculty and professors, they saw him as a significant influence on maintaining the students’ behavior for the college’s image. As for his peers, some would vouch that he was the scariest person they've ever met within their college student’s behaviors on campus. As for the students…whether they made sure not to get in the salmon-pink-haired man’s way, did as they were told, or generally avoided getting in his bad side all around, the truth was known in the air: Sukuna is a force not meant to be reckoned with. 

So, dealing with people who stand in his line of power will be dealt with — especially brats like you.

You were the biggest thorn in Sukuna’s side, a true innocent fool who dared disobey him without fear of consequence. For one, you were such a disrespectful minx, always speaking to him with such a foul mouth as if his aura that frightens others doesn’t shake you down. You bat your eyes at him during his lectures, dumb doe eyes that flutter with dull eyelids as if not a single word from his mouth was processed in that mind of yours as you’ll just wound up doing the exact shit again within a week or less. You have no amount of respect for his superior status, treating Sukuna like some big shot. 

“Tah, you don’t scare me, Prez!” You mocked with a laugh. “You and your little tattoos can go somewhere and make the other babies piss their pants and leave me the hell alone. Mind your business and stay outta mine.”

God, to say you were insufferable was scratching the surface. Sukuna can admit that nothing in his last year of college would allow him to experience absolute euphoria than crushing that childish grin off your face. It’s all he can think about whenever he has the misfortune of seeing your name or catching your face in the halls on his way to lectures and meetings.

But then again, if he can’t discipline you in the way he wanted on school grounds, it doesn’t mean you’re safe from him on the outside.

And then, like a miracle to his prayers, he finally had the dirt to give him all the more motivation. His second in command, Uraume, had found some evidence of your inappropriate behavior on the school’s campus. Pictures and videos alike, his smile grew bigger the deeper he looked into it.

Images of you flashing your bare tits in what seems to be a party in one of the dormitories and some drunk guy motorboating your chest, another of you smoking weed in one of the laboratories, which were undoubtedly smoke-free, and one portraying you fingering yourself in while sucking off one of the basketball athletes in the gymnasium men’s locker room. And the cherry on top was explicit videos of yourself that would tarnish the school’s reputation and have you expelled in seconds — absolute music to Sukuna’s ears. 

The thought of destroying your image and exposing you to the filthy bitch you have put a spark of joy in the student body president’s cruel heart. But what would the fun be if he threw this evidence out all at once? He was a man who loved to drag out the torture of his victims. So, when he pulls you aside, to your dismay, and showcases the dirt he has on you, the look on your face? Not even a picture would be enough for him to enjoy such a glorious reaction. He never thought he’d see where you’d beg and plead to him on your knees, only fueling the superiority within his stance.

However, he likes to play with his food. So, he’ll put his hands up, “Alright, fine, I won’t take this to the higher-up…” yet the smirk didn’t match the comfort expressed. “On one condition.”

And for said condition? To use you and see your talents for himself.

“Damn, this mouth really knows how to work, huh?”

Oh, to be fucking your face in the student body government lounge isn’t something he’d expect. But holy shit, is he not fucking complaining. He throws his head back as his pelvis relentlessly smacks the plump of your soapy lips. His hands grabbed your head and forced you onto his length, which you were crying on like crazy.

Tears roll down your face; the harshness of his ruts sting like hell. You could only grip his jeans to steady, yet the more he bullies his dick into your throat, your train of thought becomes more impossible to follow through. 

He slaps your cheeks, “Pay attention, bitch,” he curses from above and yanking you by the ear. “Loosen that jaw of yours and suck me off like the cumslut you are.”

Your glare gratifies him, watching you obey his words and hollow your cheeks. Jesus, the tightness of your throat has shivers crawl to his shoulders.

“Mmmff! Mmmm!!” Your muffled whimpers were all his ears could pick up on, and they made him sigh heavenly. He peers down to meet such a naughty image: your lips coated in saliva and his precum bubbling and piling with every snap and pull of his hips. Your tears and furrowed brows gave him the hugest ego boost of his life, making the devilish superior push feverishly into your mouth. 

“—Mnnph! Yesss, yeah, that’s right; keep cryin’, you fucking brat.”  Fuck, he’s so fucking close; your mouth and tongue were doing mad work for him to release, busting his load into your throat and succumbing to you to drink and accept his semen.

Balls deep to your lips, saliva mixes with salty tears, striking down your chin. You swallow every bit of him with a satisfied hum, eyes rolling up when he grinds his pelvis for his dick to go deeper.

But that doesn’t mean you should rest — hell no. Sukuna rips his erect limb out of your mouth and pushes you to your back with a kick. You couldn’t interject as he pushed your legs to your chest. An exotic position that exposes the damp spot of your thong from your lifted skirt. 

The president tsks at the display with a sneer. “Fucking slut, so wet from just sucking me off.” He slides the underwear and is welcomes to your scent and taste when he glides his tongue to your clit. “You really are a fucking bitch in heat, huh?”

His tongue pets and laps around your labia, lubing your vagina with his spit while slurping your essence that messes around your inner thighs. You’re choked up, whining from his tongue fucking the entrance of you and licking your clit.

“—Ohoo! Hoohh, Sukunaa, pleaseee,” you slurred from the suck of your clit, his tongue pushing it and grazing his teeth with the delicate bud. “Hahhhfuckk, put it innn, ‘Kuna, I want—Daaahaa!!” You cried at the slap of your cunt, stinging your sensitive clit from the rough palm of his hand.

“Don’t tell me what to do, brat,” another smack to your slit as you cough up spit. “Such a broad, only thinking with just your pussy.” Although, he had to admit, seeing your pussy wink from his hits and teases made his pride sing. With a low chuckle, he straightens up, your anticipation climbing up when he brings his middle and forefinger to wet with saliva.

Yet a record scratches at the feel of something wet around your asshole, the digits pushing and teasing your puckered entrance. Begs fly out you’re mouth, but they substitute with a scream when his fingers manage to insert inside and massage around your walls.

“What, you thought I was just gonna play with that pussy like you wanted?” He laughs at your cries, stroking his ego from your anus, clamping onto him with the scrape of his fingernails. “You got some nerve; only dirty pigs like you get dirty rewards.” You gasp at the withdrawal of his fingers, and he whistles at the sight. “So here ya go, little slut…”

Sukuna aligns his cock to your rear, pushing it with no care for your lack of preparation. You scream at the insert of his cockhead and piercing, and the stretch that comes along his inches burrowing inside causes more tears to fall. But not in pain—the expression on your face showed no sign of resentment. 

“Haaahh, yeeesshh,” your hands come to the back of your ass to help the position you’re in, the angle making your writhing figure jolt. And it gets better once Sukuna’s hips go at a mediocre pace. “Shooo goood…!!”

Your hands find Sukuna’s ankles when his frenulum piercing jabs you with precision with the increase of his erratic thrusts. High pitches and shrieks fill the student body lounge, skin slapping against each other, creating an inappropriate sound. Like Sukuna cares, though; fucking your ass on the floor with no grace — so much for a president.

“—Khheh, hooohshiiit, pig can’t even speak properly, making such a ruckus.” It’s true; you showed no restraint in concealing your wails. If anything, they get louder and louder with the clasp of your butthole on his length, drool spilling from your agape mouth. “Noisy ass acting all dumb on my cock.” 

The graze of his piercing gets worse every second; shit feels way too good, like his balls smacking down your ass. But you couldn’t foresee his next move; Sukuna slipped his middle finger inside your chasm and wiggled around your vagina. A strong yelp erupts from your body from the “come hither” motion that scratches your upper walls, and you can’t help but let yourself go.

Your climax has you howling, your holes contracting with force from every passing wave that rocks your core. You pant heavily, milking the dick that continues to plunge into your ass, Sukuna groaning at the grasp of your anus and the walls around his middle finger. 

He then pulls his digit out and brings it to his mouth, sucking your liquids with a smirk. “Not bad, broad.”

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header edit done by me + dividers by @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.

[sturnioz]

‘BACK ARCHED LIKE A CAT’ — MATTHEW STURNIOLO

pairing. matthew sturniolo x fem!reader genre. smut

word count. 1k

❝you look so pretty bent over for me like this, you know that?❞

content warnings. explicit content, kitchen sex with matt, unprotected sex, creampie, spanking, oral (female receiving), cum eating, dirty talk.

(edit)authors note. i tried to add the taglist to this, but unfortunately it glitched when i posted it and wouldnt tag correctly so i have given up lol. sorry abt that.

You’re gasping for breath, whiny moans fleeting past your lips as your fingernails scrape across the kitchen counter in attempt to grasp onto something to keep you stable, knowing that you would definitely fall to the ground if it wasn’t for Matt’s tight hold on your waist, his hips pistoning into yours at a speed that has your body shaking from the force.

The tears build in your eyes as Matt’s hand slides down to the bottom of your spine, pressing down to arch your back further into him which allows him to hit deeper places inside of you, causing your toes to curl as a cry rips from the back of your throat.

Matt’s chest vibrates with a low grunt with each thrust of his hips, and he leans over your body to mouth at the bare skin of your shoulder blade where the strap of your tank top had slipped down during the fun, and his teeth nips around the area.

Your cheek presses to the cold countertop, panting heavily against the marble tiling as Matt abuses your pussy, and his hand curls around your front to dip between your thighs, his nimble fingers rubbing circles on your sensitive clit.

Your thighs squeeze around his hand with a loud wail, and you hear Matt chuckle lowly next to your ear, clearly enjoying how you’re reacting to him. The tip of his tongue traces the shell of your ear as he feels your body tremble and your cunt clench around his cock, eliciting a deep moan from him.

“Yeah? You like that?” Matt questions you with a taunting hum. “I can feel your pussy squeezing around me, sweetheart… you really like getting fucked like this? In the kitchen where we eat? Where anyone could just walk out and see you spread open for me?” He laughs when he sees you nod your head frantically. “Fuuuck. I love it s’much—love it when you’re like this, taking my cock so fucking well. That’s it, sweetheart.”

“Ma—tt.” You hiccup through salty tears, drool slipping from the corner of your lips as your body jolts with each movement, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing throughout the kitchen.

He’s giggling behind you now, and his hands roughly grip your ass, hissing between his teeth as he sends a few harsh slaps to your skin. It was your mind whirling.

“You look so pretty bent over for me like this, you know that? So, so pretty—fuck—you’re so wet too.” Matt babbles as he pounds his cock into your pussy, feeling your walls spasm around him. 

You’re crying now, a blubbering mess of tears and drool at the pleasure and the euphoria that buzzes through your veins, and a shrill shoots down your spine when Matt slaps your ass once again.

“I—shit, oh my god—Matt…Matty, m’gonna cum—” You cut yourself off with a gasp, accidentally knocking the dishes on the drying rack as you try to reach for something to keep yourself grounded, the pleasure in the pit of your belly tightening. “Fuck!”

“Hm, yeah? You gonna cum f’me?” Matt asks you and you immediately respond with a pathetic nod of your head. He grins at that, “I’m gonna cum too… Can I cum inside? Fill this pussy right up? Do you want that, sweetheart?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” You plead repeatedly, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. “Fill me up, Matt. Make me yours.”

“You silly, silly girl…” Matt chuckles as he leans over your body once more, pressing his lips to the back of your neck as he whispers, “You’re already mine.”

Those three words—so fucking simple—were enough to have you coming undone with a loud cry, cumming over his cock that fucks you through it, and he praises you lovingly as his hands stroke down your back.

But the sloppiness of his thrusts is enough for you to know what’s about to happen next and you welcome it immediately, gasping as he fills you up with his cum, shivering as you feel it leak and drip down your thighs. 

Your legs shake as Matt slowly pulls out of you, but he gives you no time to react as he’s already spinning you around to facing him, pressing his mouth to yours in a sloppy, heated kiss. His palms lay flat on your cheeks, his fingers digging into your skin to hold you to him as his tongue slips into your mouth. 

He grunts as your teeth grazes over his tongue, chuckling between the kiss as he feels your hands desperately fist at his shirt.

Matt takes a step back after a few moments, his smile wide as he watches you chase after his lips for another kiss, but he hooks his arms beneath your thighs to lift you up and he settles you down on the countertop behind yourself. 

You hiss as your bare ass meets the cold tiles, wincing at the slight sting it causes against your heated skin, but you quieten when you see Matt drop down to his knees in front of you, littering soft kisses around your inner thighs that he pries apart before he dives forward, shoving his tongue between your puffy folds, slurping up the mess that he had created.

His name leaves your lips in heavy pants, and you thread your fingers through his messy hair, grabbing at him needily to tug him even closer as he tastes you, his tongue lapping at your pussy with the most animalistic grunt you have ever heard rumble from his chest.

Matt’s tongue swirls around your sensitive clit, and your thighs twitch around his head as you moan, trying to arch away from his touch but the grip he has on your legs forces you to remain still and open for him, eliciting a cry from you as he drags you closer to his face, not caring if he’s driving you into oversensitivity as he’s too busy eating you out, your arousal and his cum lathering on his tongue. 

“Tastes so fucking sweet,” Matt moans in your cunt, and his eyes flit up to meet yours, his eyebrows raising cockily at you, “Always tastes so sweet f’me, don’t you?” 

© sturnioz

[hypnagogics]

thinking about loser!ellie who's so vocal during sex...muahahaha. except idrk how to transcribe this kinda talk so LMAO. if you see me put something very similar in the loser!ellie finale...no you didn't. let's just say this is practice for that. 18+

every part of the whole experience would just be blowing her mind. the sights, the smells, the tastes, the sensations—turning her brain to soup. she'd be so obsessed with you, so overwhelmed by the new experience, she wouldn't know what to do with herself.

and at first she'd try to downplay it, stifle the sounds threatening to spill by biting her lip or clapping her hand over her mouth, only allowing quiet huffs and strings of profanities to escape. she'd want you to think she's cool, or she can handle it all smoothly.

however, as time goes on, she loses all control of herself. grunts of effort turn into mewls of your name, which turn into whiny, needy pleas the closer she gets to euphoria. she can't control her sounds anymore, because it's just too good. she even gets so pussydrunk she starts to babble nonsense. she pauses sucking on your clit to push her foggy glasses up her nose and slur through a crackly voice, "mmm, love this— love your pussy s'much babe...so much."

but when she's the one receiving, her pleasureful cries are music to your ears. whatever you may be doing, you'd hear no end of begs for more, until she can't form proper words anymore and all she can produce are loud, melodic moans.

not to mention the look on her face was one so lewd, yet one so clear showing she wasn't holding back. face as red as a budding rose, her copper eyebrows knitted together, her eyes rolled slightly back and screwed tightly shut—even the occasional tear streams down the side of her face. back arched and mouth open, her lips puffy, you wanted to engrave the image of her like this on the inside of your eyelids.

"ah, ah, ah, m'gonna cum—hnn!" is the final shriek of ecstasy before her wails become strangled in her throat—choked, silent moans while she's squirting everywhere and you're working her through it. then her sounds turn into heaving pants as she tries to bring herself back to earth and catch her breath, recover from the sensitivity.

after it all, she grows self-conscious, shyly asking you if she was too loud. but you reassure her quickly that she was perfect, she's so beautiful, and you're glad to have brought her pleasure. even though you're definitely getting a noise complaint from the neighbors. worth it! ♡

never know when to tag or not so: @andersonfilms @ch6douin @aouiaa @sapphic-ovaries @astro-cat2 @paqerings @r3starttt @littlefallenangel111 @srooch @sinfulprayerss @lvlymicha @sunnsh1ine @anniee333 @pinkcwake @marsworlddd @caszzine @saturnsdrafts @ashaynep @flowrmoth @liddysflyer @fortune777 @claude999 @brunaedn @bunnitewsilly @mimasroom2 @deliriousrn @infiniteinquiries @thekill3randthefinalgirl @kissyslut @xysbree tag?

[bambisworlds]

reunited

Rick thought he knew what true, unconditional romantic love felt like with Lori. She was his first love, the mother of his child. But that was nothing close to what he felt with you. You had the ability to turn him into the most deranged man alive, someone unrecognizable and downright psychotic when it came to protecting you. You could also bring him to his knees and turn him into a puddle at your feet. He could be the softest, gentleness man to exist if you wanted him to be. You were his, and he was yours. Simple as that. When he woke up in the hospital to find the world had ended there were only two things on his mind; Carl and you. He needed to find you. (3,587 word count)

content warnings, mdni 18+

f!reader, established relationship, some angst but not really, age gap (reader's her in mid 20s), rick is down bad for reader, rick is so in love with reader it's crazy, munch!rick, oral (f. receiving), p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), use of "good girl", consent check, let me know if i forgot anything x

my masterlist

~

Rick was exhausted and he felt terrible. Not just physically but emotionally. The guilt of leaving Merle on the roof and the horrors he’d endured gnawed at him but he tried not to let it show. The only thing that took his mind off of it were thoughts of you. God he missed you. And he was so afraid of what could’ve happened to you, or what could be currently happening to you. The wondering of if you were alive, if you were hurt… it was unbearable. So much so he felt like he had some sort of object plunged into his heart that was slowly rotting and decaying while simultaneously spreading throughout his body, leaking poison  and black goo into his bloodstream. So, he hardly felt any relief when he arrived back at Glenn’s camp. 

~

Y/n quickly walked up to Glenn as he got out of the sports car, pulling him into a hug as he arrived back at camp. The two had become pals when she joined the group, Glenn was a genuinely nice guy, “Thank God you’re alive.” she chuckles, releasing him from her grasp with a soft pat on his back, “That’s quite the car you got there.”

“How did y’all get out of there anyway?” Shane asks, walking over to the two of them with his rifle that he never seems to let go of. Y/n’s smile faded from his presence, she couldn’t figure out what it was but Shane gave her a bad vibe.

“New guy. He got us out.” Glenn answers with a smile, relieved himself that he made it out. 

“New guy?” Shane asks, skeptical, and Y/n sends him a look. Shane was always an asshole to newcomers, even if they helped save someone in the group.

“Yeah, crazy vato just got into town. The guy’s a cop like you.” Glenn tells Shane and Y/n’s ears perk up, her eyes widening with a glimmer of hope.

“A cop?” she asks quickly, “From where? What’s his name?” she quizzes frantically, looking in the direction of the van that had pulled up behind Glenn. She could feel the pounding of her heart in her chest as the door to the van opened and Rick stepped out. Her ears rang as if she was in some altered plane of consciousness, her lips parting in disbelief. “Oh my God,” Y/n and Rick both mutter in sync as they stare at each other, both frozen in shock.

Before Y/n could even grasp what was happening or let it register in her brain that he was alive, Rick had broken out into a sprint towards her. He crashed so hard into her the two nearly fell to the ground, his arms wrapping around her tightly with a slight tremor in his limbs. Finally the world had gone quiet for Rick. The unbearable rotting in his heart had ceased, a stem of flowers and sunlight growing in its place. Rick released a choked sob, nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck as he held onto her like a lifeline. His eyes nearly rolled back as he breathed in her familiar scent, waves of relief and downright euphoria crashing over him.

Unable to resist, he pulled his head back and kissed her with a type of passion that couldn’t be replicated, as if he was trying to bind their souls together through the gesture. Rick moaned into the kiss unabashedly, one arm wrapping around her waist to keep her pressed against him while the other cradled the back of her head in an almost protective manner.

“You’re alive,” he murmured in between kisses, barely giving Y/n the chance to respond before connecting their lips again. The kiss was sloppy and desperate, a physical representation of longing and love they both were feeling. The two barely registered the other people around them, too lost in each other, “C’mere,” he grunted out, moving his hands down to grab onto the underside of her thighs. She instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist, choking out a laugh of disbelief and unadulterated joy as he spun around once with her in his arms. She smiled bigger than she had in weeks, her hands resting on either side of his face.

“You’re alive,” she echoes with a broad smile.

“I’m alive,” he repeats, his smile matching hers. The glimmer in his eyes that had been missing since he woke up in the hospital had returned. Rick nearly dropped her as a smaller figure came crashing into him; Carl. Rick’s eyes widened in shock and he carefully, but quickly set Y/n down, pulling Carl into his arms next as another round of sobs escaped him. Y/n smiled down at the two of them, sobbing and laughing at the same time. She didn’t reach for them, wanting them to have a moment of their own. Rick lifted his head slightly to catch sight of Lori, another wave of relief washing over him knowing Carl had been with his mother this whole time. Rick smiled again, his face growing sore from how large his smile was as he held Carl. Rick rose to his feet, wrapping an arm around Y/n and Carl both. His heart was full. Nothing else mattered, nothing at all.

~

That night Rick naturally stayed with Y/n in her tent, unable to be away from her for even a moment.

Rick could hardly believe this was real. Even after he recited what had happened to him around the bonfire with Y/n and Carl in his arms, it still felt too good to be true. Like a dream.

“I still can’t believe it,” Rick says with a small smile as he sits down on the raggedy mattress inside of Y/n’s tent. Y/n smiled softly, finishing dressing into comfier clothes for the night. 

“Me neither,” she sighs, walking over to him to straddle his thighs. Rick’s hands instinctively moved to rest on her hips, like his hands had done countless times before. His eyes catch on a glimmer of a gold chain peeking out from beneath her t-shirt, glowing from the low lamp light. His smile grew slightly as he gently plucked the chain out from beneath her shirt. It was the golden, heart locket he had given her on their first anniversary. It held a picture of the two of them that was taken at her 22nd birthday party. She was smiling in the picture with Rick’s arm wrapped around her waist as he kissed her on the cheek. They both looked so happy.

“You still have it,” Rick mutters with a nostalgic smile, tracing his thumb over the locket. 

“I know it’s morbid, but I was scared if I never saw you again I’d forget what you looked like,” she practically whispered, her voice cracking slightly, “This is the only picture I had left of you, I wasn’t about to lose it.” she smiles sadly. 

“You wanna know somethin’ stupid?” he asks with a grin, lifting his bottom off the mattress slightly to grab something out of his back pocket while keeping a firm hold on Y/n with his free arm so she wouldn’t fall off his lap. Y/n watches him with furrowed eyebrows, unsure of where he was going with this. “I went back to the house after I woke up and the first thing I grabbed was my wallet,” he chuckles, holding his leather wallet in his hands, “It’s kinda pointless to have it now, except for one thing in it,” Rick opens his wallet to reveal a picture in it of him, Carl, and Y/n, “I wasn’t about to lose this either.”

“Rick…” Y/n mutters with a smile as she traces her finger over the picture. It was taken at one of Carl’s holiday parties at his school. It meant so much to her when Carl had asked her to go, saying he wanted his whole family there, not just his parents, “I guess we had the same idea then.”

“I guess so,” Rick grins, setting the wallet down on the crate beside the mattress that served as a makeshift nightstand. His hand returned to rest on her hips, slipping beneath the band t-shirt she wore to feel her bare skin, “Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to be able to touch you again?” Rick asks huskily.

“I have some idea,” Y/n mutters, resting her hands on his shoulders. 

“I dreamt of you every night. Every goddamn night. Like you were some ghost haunting me, or an angel,” Rick’s fingers thumbs rub soothing circles on her sides, “The dream would last long enough for me to think it was real, then when I woke up…” he sighs, looking down at Y/n’s lap. 

“I’m sorry… it must’ve been terrifying when you woke up in the hospital.” Y/n’s heart clenches and she rests her hands on the sides of his face, encouraging him to look back up at her.

“When I went back to the house and nobody was there… I’d never felt so devastated in my life,” he explains and Y/n nods sympathetically. 

“I’m sorry,” she says again, resting her forehead against his, “I’m so sorry,” she whispers. Rick sighs, closing his eyes as the lingering ache of that awful day faded, a sense of contentment overpowering it. 

“None of that matters anymore. All that matters is you’re alive, you’re safe,” Rick pulls back slightly, tilting her chin up towards his face with his thumb, “I love you more than anythin’,” Rick says firmly, “You and Carl… you’re my whole world. I don’t care if the rest of it is in shambles as long as the two of you are happy and alive.”

Y/n smiles softly, closing  the distance between them to nuzzle her nose against his before kissing him. Rick sighs contently, immediately melting into her familiar embrace as his hand falls back to her hip. His hands gripped her hips, squeezing the soft flesh there with a slight moan. Y/n’s hands snaked from his shoulders up his hair, tugging slightly. Rick smirked against her lips, lifting her up off his lap and turning them so he could lay her on the mattress.

“Didn’t realize how much I would miss feeling you yankin’ on my hair like that,” he grins down at her, bracing his hands on either side of her head. Just as Y/n was about to respond with a smart remark he lowered his head to press open mouthed kisses on her throat. Rick groaned, sucking and nipping at her skin. He lowered himself down to brace himself on his elbows instead of his hands, wanting to be as close to her as possible. Y/n’s eyes fluttered shut, her lips parting with soft breaths. 

“I missed you so much,” she breathes, her hand resting gently on the back of his neck.

“Mmm, I missed you too,” he mumbled against her skin. He supported his weight on one elbow, his free hand caressing and groping any part of her he could reach, “Need to get reacquainted with this body of yours,” Rick smirks. 

“I think I’ll allow it,” Y/n says with a slight smile. She slips her hands beneath his t-shirt, smoothing her hands over his sides and abdomen. Rick’s smirk grows as he captures her lips again. 

“Don’t know how in the world I’m gonna keep quiet,” Rick smiled against her lips, “Might have to build us a cabin in the middle of nowhere so I can be as loud as I want.”

“Miss me that much?” she asks with a grin of her own, their noses bumping against each other.

“You got no idea,” he mutters, yanking her shirt off in one swift movement. Y/n gasped softly followed by a slight chuckle of surprise from the brisk action, but her chuckle faded as Rick bent down to capture one of her nipples between his lips. Y/n sighed contently, combing her fingers through his hair as he lavished attention on her breasts. Rick was moaning and groaning as if he was tasting the most delectable desert imaginable. 

“People are gonna hear you,” Y/n giggles quietly.

“Don’t care,” Rick mumbles in response, hastily kissing down her stomach as he yanks off her sleep shorts. Once they were discarded he nuzzled his nose against the crotch of her panties, his eyes rolling back with a low moan. If it hadn’t been so long since she’d last seen him, Y/n might’ve been embarrassed by his display, but she missed him too damn much to feel bashful.

Rick placed an open mouthed kiss on her dampening panties, his tongue poking at the fabric before peeling them down, his face so close to her cunt his nose bumped against her panties as he pulled it away. The minute he had them shimmed down to her ankles he was pushing her thighs apart, his eyes darkening at the sight of her glistening folds that had been practically engraved into his memory since the first time he saw them. He nuzzled his nose against her clit, his eyes fluttering shut again, “God damn,” he mutters reverently before opening his eyes once more, looking up at Y/n’s face. 

The look in his eyes sent a shiver down Y/n’s spine, it almost made her want to get up and run from how hungry and dark his gaze was, but she’d rather get bit by a walker than go anywhere else right now. She needed him just as much as he needed her. 

Rick suctioned her clit between his lips, holding eye contact with Y/n, but once her familiar flavor touched his tongue his eyes rolled back and all coherent thought was lost. He devoured her as if he hadn’t eaten in months, which he might as well hadn’t considering how long it’s been since he’s last tasted her. He hastily yanked her further down the mattress so his face was smushed against her pussy, haphazardly shoving her legs over his shoulders as he ate her out like some starving animal. 

“Oh shit,” Y/n gasped, her head falling back against the meager pillows as her back arched off the mattress. 

“Mhm,” Rick hummed against her cunt, barely even bothering to glance up at her as he focused on her cunt. He lapped over every inch of her sex as if trying to memorize it, periodically sucking on her clit and pumping his tongue into her hole. His hands gripped her hips tightly, keeping her firmly in place for his ministrations.  

“Rick I’m gonna cum,” she mutters frantically, nearing her peak at record speed after weeks of aching for him. 

“Do it,” Rick mumbles against her folds, his voice vibrating against her sensitive flesh. Y/n whispered and mumbled profanities, covering her mouth with her hand in hopes the people in the tents around theirs wouldn’t overhear, or worse a walker. She released a choked moan, her back arching off the bed as she came and Rick lapped at her cunt eagerly, moaning in delight. He didn’t seem to have a problem with anyone or anything overhearing him. 

Y/n shivered and jerked as he continued to lap at her clit with no sign of stopping, she eventually pushed him back by his forehead as it became too much. Rick looked up at her with hungry eyes, his lips pink and puffy and chin slick with her arousal. He began to yank her back to his mouth when she tugged at his t-shirt, pulling him up to her face. He begrudgingly let her tug him where she wanted him, but not before he had the chance to strip off his own clothes in a flash. 

“Need you so bad,” Rick mumbled against her lips, their teeth clashing from the desperation of the kiss. Y/n made a needy sound of agreement, enjoying the oddly erotic taste of herself on his tongue and lips. Rick quickly gripped onto her thighs and wrapped them around his waist, rubbing his cock against her folds to coat himself in her juices, “Sure you want this?” Rick double checks, his restraint holding on by a string, but a lot could change in 6 weeks. He didn’t know all of what she’s been through. He needed to make sure she truly did want this, want him, no matter how much he loved her and craved her.

“Yes, please, please,” she begged eagerly, bucking her hips up against his cock. Rick felt as if he heard angels singing briefly at her desperate reply. He slowly slid his cock into her, a choked moan escaping him. He nearly collapsed on top of her like some teenager losing his virginity, he had missed her so damn bad he nearly came before he was all the way in. 

“Christ,” Rick grunts as he bottoms out, a shudder running through his body, “Fuckin’ hell,” he muttered to himself, his chest heaving. He tried to remember all the things he used to think about when he was younger when he tried not to cum fast, like brick walls or sweaty balls or something, but being with her again felt so damn good. 

“You okay?” Y/n asks him breathily, her chest heaving as well.

“Yeah, yeah,” Rick pants, beginning to move, “Fuck,” he moans loudly as he begins to roll his hips, his head falling back.

“Rick!” Y/n scolds, reaching up to cover his mouth with her hand. He grins behind her hand, mumbling a ‘sorry’ against her palm. 

He let his head fall forward again, nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck, “You just feel so damn good, baby,” he mumbles against her neck. Y/n lets out a hushed moan in agreement, tangling her fingers in his hair as she keeps her legs firmly locked around his waist. Rick pants, his moans muffled against her skin as he picks up the pace of his thrusts. His hands gripped the sheets on either side of her head with the effort of holding himself back. Y/n mewled and whimpered quietly in his ear, her eyes fluttering shut in enjoyment as she clung to him. 

Rick found the strength to lift his head up to look down at her, her gorgeous features furrowed from pleasure only adding to his arousal, “Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” he mutters, beginning to pound into her with renewed vigor. Y/n’s jaw dropped and her eyes flew open from the change of pace, a shaky moan slipping past her lips. 

“F-Fuck, Rick,” she gasps, both their breathing growing heavier.

“That’s the plan,” he chuckles, snaking his hands underneath her to lift her ass off the bed and maneuvering her ankles onto his shoulders in search of that special spot inside her. He knew he’d found it when her back arched off the bed followed quickly by a high pitched cry. Rick smirks devilishly, “That’s the spot.”

Y/n frantically reached for Rick’s discarded shirt beside them on the bed, holding it over her mouth in an attempt to stifle her moans. Rick immediately shakes his head in disapproval, yanking the shirt from her grasp, “No hiding that pretty face from me.” he grunts, “If you gotta moan then moan, I wanna see my girl's face when she cums.”

Jesus he’s so hot. Y/n thinks, “Gonna cum,” she whimpers, her face contorting.

“Mhm, cum on my cock,” Rick encourages, his thrusts precise to keep hitting that special spot inside her with each snap of his hips.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” Y/n repeats on a loop, her eyes rolling back and body convulsing as she cums.

“Yesss that’s it, that’s my good girl,” Rick praises triumphantly, not relenting his movements. Y/n sobs in pleasure, her hands flailing on the bed for something to hold onto. Rick quickly positions her legs back on either side of his hips, grabbing onto her hands to intertwine their fingers on either side of her head, “You’ve got one more in you, I can feel it,” he pants, “Be a good girl and give it to me.” Y/n shakes her head slightly with a shaky whimper, but she could already feel another orgasm building within her, “Yes you can, you’re gonna cum again. Three’s nothin’, I’ve given you eleven in one night before.” Y/n’s body begins to melt into the mattress and her grip on his hands loosen, her jaw going slack as she cums again, “There we go,” Rick mutters almost to himself as he feels her walls begin to clench and quiver around his cock again, her face the image of pure bliss.

Rick’s thrusts began to falter, struggling to keep himself up as he neared his peak. With a jerk of his hips and low groan he cums as well, burying himself as deep as he could as he grinds against her, “Fuuuck,” he moans, his body trembling with the force of his orgasm. He moans in satisfaction, his body turning to jelly as he collapses atop her, holding himself up weakly on his forearms. He rolled his hips slightly, prolonging both of their pleasure as he captured her lips in a slow, languid kiss.

He pulls back enough to where their noses bumped against one another's, his voice firm with no room for argument, “I’m never losing you again.”

if you have any requests including the people on my masterlist please comment them below any of my posts or in my submissions!! (check here: about my blog  to see what things i'm not comfortable with in regards to requests <3)

[machveil]

Mmmmmmm loser!simon and short!reader size training mmmmm buying multiple dildos increasing in size in order to slowly train your inside to fit him in mmm maybe dedicating a day inserting the biggest one all day inside to prep and finally try to insert him inside that night mmm maybe loser!simon bursting out just from helping you to take the dildo out of you because it felt so warm and slick from you keeping it snug inside you the whole day and the moment the imagination of what if it was him instead being cockwarmed inside you that whole day- the thought alone made him went feral there and then mmm

hi, oh my god? [blows up]

CW: Fem!Reader, size difference, dildos, size training because Little Lieutenant Riley is big, Loser!Simon Riley is his own warning, oral and fingering (Fem!Receiving), spit

Loser!Simon Riley who desperately wants to be able to bully himself inside you. he doesn’t want to hurt you though, hates the thought of you being in discomfort or forcing yourself to take him. even though he’s tried oral and fingering you, slow, comfortable hours between your thighs, he always stops short of fully burying himself. he can’t, not when your eyebrows cinch and your breathing gets unsteady. he’ll always work you towards an orgasm for trying, you did so good for him, he doesn’t mind a handjob in return or finishing himself off if you’re tired. as much as he wants to feel you he won’t push you to take him

Loser!Simon Riley who buys a dildo for you, straight-faced when he presents it to you - ears flushing a little as he stares at you. he really just wanted you to feel good, he always does, and if he can’t work his cock into you then this will do. he didn’t expect to like it so much, cradling you against him while crooning praise, lips pressed to your forehead while he thrusts the silicone in and out of you. it’s nothing compared to what he’s working with, but watching you take it has him breathing heavily. the mixture of lube, slick, and spit coating the dildo has his attention, the way you cry out when he tilts it at a different angle. warm brown eyes watching the way your legs shake and spasm, making sure to bury the toy to the hilt when you orgasm

Loser!Simon Riley who comes home a week later with a new dildo. a little longer, a little more girth. “S’just a little bigger, yeah? You can handle it.”, he knows you can. he doesn’t mind starting off with his mouth and fingers, crooked nose brushing against your clit as he loses himself in your cunt. he starts you off with the first toy, quiet and patient as the fake tip runs along your slit. there’s something about watching you take it that makes him feel elated, shallow thrusts as he rocks the dildo into you. as much as you’re the one crying out and holding onto him, lost in the euphoria of him hitting all the right nerves, Simon’s sure he’s never been harder. especially when he switches to the new dildo, face flushed and straining against his boxers with how it easily slips into you. he holds you close, nosing at your neck as he picks up the pace, watching how it glides in and out of you

Loser!Simon Riley who’s fascinated watching you take larger dildos, thoughts running wild as he thinks about you taking a toy bigger than him. for now he’s content sitting between your legs, a hand pressing down over your tummy as he works his latest purchase into you. “Think you’ll take me t’night.”, voice gravelly as you whine, eyes glued to the way you’re stretching around the toy. as excited as he is with the thought of finally sliding into you, Simon’s more excited that you agreed to have this dildo in you for the day. he’d take it out if you asked, but he’s already trembling with the image in his mind. it plays out how he envisioned - watching your breath hitch as you try to sit down, the way your legs shake when you walk. it’s a long day, his cheeks heating up with embarrassment when he excuses himself to the bathroom after lunch. he barely managed to pull himself out of his boxers before drenching his hand in pearly cum

Loser!Simon Riley who’s fidgety when you both finally retire to your bedroom. still silent as ever, but he’s eyeing you, a slight twitch to his fingers. once you settle in bed he’s following you, pressing gentle kisses to your face as he shimmies your underwear down, soaked in the middle. he can’t help but trace the base of the toy, thumbs running over the slick silicone. there’s a perverse feeling in his chest when he inches it out, a pathetic whine resonating in his throat from how warm it is. he can’t help but toy with it, dumbly working it in and out of you as he watches it split you open. does he really need to replace it? it’s already made you feel so good, kept you full better than he’s ever done. he doesn’t even register how he’s grinding his hips against the sheets, too caught up in bullying the dildo back into you. he’s moving on autopilot, drools onto the cock in his hand before thrusting it back inside you. the only thing that makes him stop is his orgasm, eyes fluttering shut when you climax around the toy, his hips stuttering as he lowly moans

[jo-speaks]

Happy birthday!! Can I request 🎂 (keep reading, don't let me distract you) With quinn of course

warnings: smut below the cut!! mdni! oral sex (fem! receiving), yeah that's pretty much it

celly masterlist

You were lying on the couch, wearing nothing but a pair of sleep shorts and a sports bra, nose-deep into a book Quinn had recommended to you a few days ago. You had gotten sleepy while watching the game, so you decided maybe a book would keep you awake. You were right. The plot was growing intensely in a way that made it impossible for you to stop your eyes from shifting left to right, processing every word and picturing everything vividly in your mind.

You were so focused on the story that you hadn’t noticed Quinn walk into the apartment. Not even the thud of his bag hitting the floor was enough to snap you out of your trance.

Quinn noticed your state of being when he entered the apartment. You had the blinds closed even though you had the perfect view of the skyline from the windows. The only light in the room came from the TV where you had some background music playing. He smiled when he noticed what you were reading, a sense of pride flooding his body as he recognized the familiar title.

He didn’t want to interrupt you, but he wanted to be close to you. He kicked off his shoes and stripped himself of his game-day suit, leaving him in nothing but his underwear before he made his way over to you.

No words were exchanged as he pushed your knees apart, finding a home in between your legs with his head on your stomach. You removed one hand from the book, moving it to mess with his hair. Smiling at the feeling, Quinn placed a kiss on your bare midriff, earning a giggle from you. 

“That tickles.” You mumbled, returning back to the sentence you had left off on.

Quinn smiled, “Go back to your book, baby. It’s a good read.”

He realized you already had when he was met with silence. His lips met your stomach again. And again.

It hadn’t been his intention to pull your attention away from the book. It genuinely was a good story, but he couldn’t help but trail his kisses from your navel to just mere inches from your core. Before he even knew what was happening, he was sliding your shorts and panties down your legs, letting them find a new home on the floor.

“Quinn?” You asked, voice trembling slightly as you lowered your book to see what he was doing.

He peered up at you, offering you a sweet smile, “Keep reading. Don’t let me distract you.”

You obeyed, trying to control your breathing and bring your focus back to the pages once again as he placed a soft kiss on your clit. 

His tongue lapped against your core in a tamed manner until a switch seemed to flip in his brain.  His once previously soft actions turned messy in a matter of seconds, beginning to eat you out like you were his last meal.

Whimpers turned into moans as you tugged on his hair, earning a groan from him, the vibrations translating perfectly from his throat to your throbbing clit. You couldn’t fathom the thought of picking the book up again, too distracted by his mouth to even remember anything you had read in the past hour.

“Fuck, Quinn. Don’t stop. Please.” You babbled, brain turning to mush as he shifted his tongue from lapping at your clit to prodding at your entrance. His nose replaced that sensation, the tip of it rubbing up perfectly against you, causing you to grind your hips against his face.

Quinn pulled away slightly to speak, “Cum for me, sweet girl. Let me get you there.” Once he got his words out, he dove right back into you as if you were his only source of oxygen.

It didn’t take long before you were crying out, the forgotten book sliding off your chest and onto the ground, as you arched your back, a wave of euphoria hitting you hard.

He didn’t stop his actions, helping you ride out your orgasm whilst sucking in every last drop of it. He wouldn’t have stopped had it not been for the palm of your hand pushing his head away from you. 

Quinn trailed kisses up your body, worshiping you silently before he reached your face, placing a loving kiss on your lips, the taste of you lingering against your tongue. 

“So much for not distracting me. I was getting to the climax.” You jokingly complained.

Your boyfriend snorted as he made himself comfortable on top of you, “And I helped you get there.”

[explorevenus]

doll parts ♡ leon kennedy x f!reader

nsfw (18+) - minors dni or i will call ur mom. and also the cops

word count: 3.6k

description: leon may not take the best care of himself, but he certainly takes care of you. it's his favorite pastime.

tags/warnings: vendetta leon, established relationship, unhealthy relationship dynamics, dollification, daddy kink, oral sex (f receiving), mirror sex

a/n: this piece was commissioned by my lovely bestie @dollfacefantasy, who knows me so well in that she knew i was foaming at the mouth for an excuse to write dollification w leon >:3 AND it's based off of that one scene in euphoria where nate dresses cassie up LIKE GET OUTTA TOWNNNNN I WAS SO JUICED TO WRITE THIS !!!!!!!!!!!!

my masterlist ♡

my ao3 ♡

fic under the cut, thanks so much for reading and i hope u enjoy ;w;

-venus ♡

You were mad. You were so mad, all the time lately, and you were past the point of wondering if you had any right to be. 

It was late, nearly half past midnight, the only sound in the dim house being the unrelenting patter of fat raindrops on the windows. Leon, too, was late, like he so often was. Of course, you weren’t allowed to complain or ask questions about his high paying job, or his whereabouts, or the secrecy, where all those injuries came from or why he didn’t return when he said he would for the hundredth time.

All your life, you thought relationships like this existed only in fiction, the trope of the distant workaholic who dismisses his partner’s concerns with nothing but his wallet and his sexual prowess, piling diamond encrusted bandages upon months worth of neglect, bottled up grievances and novels left unsaid. It was a concept confined to old movies and paperbound romances as far as you were concerned, before you met Leon.

You weren’t unreasonable, and you weren’t dumb. You had gathered that his mysterious government job really was important and strictly confidential, and you trusted that he was telling you as much of the truth as was permitted by the powers that be. You knew he cared about you, you knew he would rather be home with you than running around at the beck and call of the most powerful people in the country. You knew it was never his intention to hurt you.

But your awareness of his love for you didn’t make it any easier to swallow the unending cycle of broken promises, nor the visible deterioration of his mental and physical health while his ‘work trips’ became increasingly frequent until they all started to just blend together. 

You became numb to it after a while. It seemed selfish to demand his time and attention when he couldn’t help his circumstances. Even bringing it up made you feel like a monster, and it was all because you loved him so completely.

And you loved him so completely. You had seen him cry with laughter and sob with grief. You had seen him burn toast, fall asleep with the TV on, forget how to tie a tie, dread a mundane phone call, mumble to himself when he thought no one was listening. You knew his philosophies on life and love and death, you knew him heart and soul, and so too did he know you.

Thus, you just ate it, wore yourself down until you finally accepted that all those bottled up grievances, novels left unsaid and extravagant bribes were worth the privilege of being his lover.

Your eyes felt dry as you stared at the clock, counting in your tired mind exactly how many hours had passed since he was supposed to be home. It had been a long, rough day that would have been draining enough on its own, but the evening proved to disappoint even further. 

Leon heard about the karmic disaster that was your day through a handful of rant texts you’d sent over the course of it, each one more unfortunate than the last. Sympathetic to your senseless string of rotten luck, he promised to cut away from work an hour early to return home to you with your favorite dinner and enough doting on to make your teeth rot. He did not, of course, come home early, and not only that, but he didn’t come home at all, and you couldn’t get ahold of him.

If this wasn’t such a frequent occurrence, you might have been more worried about his safety, or even more angry at him for leaving you hanging on a day like this one, but you had become so familiar with this whole song and dance that your feelings around it were dulled.

You were just about to give up and go to bed when your phone lit up with a notification. Following the several undelivered texts you tried to send asking if he was okay, he’d given a simple response that you knew would redirect the course of your whole entire night.

Headed home in 15. Be in the dollhouse

You had long since garnered that the dollhouse was more for him than it was for you, even if he seemed to believe it was the other way around. It was nice to be pampered and doted on and styled like a Barbie, until it became a way for him to avoid talking to you about anything important. But that was neither here nor there. Dolls don’t talk, and they most certainly don’t complain.

With a deep, measured breath you exited the bedroom and turned down the hall, to what used to be a spare room but was now more aptly describable as a boudoir. The door creaked open to reveal the delicate, feminine space, heavy satin drapes blocking out any potential prying eyes. Between two solid oak wardrobes was an ornate standing mirror, the walk-in closet to the right overflowing with opulent clothing that hardly ever saw the light of day, just the familiar warmth of Leon’s cerulean eyes. 

At the other end of the room was an antique, three-mirror vanity, stocked carefully with luxury makeup, designer perfumes and every last tool one might need to style your hair, down to a box of satin ribbons in every color with which to tie it back. Leon was never one to do things half-way, and dolling you up was no exception.

Piece by piece, you stripped yourself of your clothes, hands moving as slowly and purposefully as his own would, as if by instinct. Just like a doll would be, you undressed to nothing but a pair of delicate lace panties, and you took your place at the vanity, your posture straight and your hands folded neatly in your lap.

All there was left to do now was wait for Leon, to stare at yourself blankly in the mirror and ruminate, to let your thoughts scream and echo around in your head until it would all collapse into silence, putting you in the proper headspace of an empty-headed little Barbie for Leon to play with.

You didn’t so much as flinch at the sound of the garage door opening, or move a muscle at all at the muffled thudding of his footsteps ascending the stairs. Your lips parted with a slow, deep breath, your posture straightening up one final time before the knob turned, and you watched the door open behind you through the reflection in the mirror.

He looked tired. To be candid, he looked like shit. It was evident he had left immediately from whatever dangerous, world-saving thing he was doing to rush home to you, not taking the time to change or freshen up.

Leon approached you gently, reaching over your shoulder to let his rough fingers cup your neck and throat, tilting your head up just enough to make you look at yourself, and to adjust your posture.

“Such a precious little doll, sitting so pretty for daddy,” He whispered, stooping down to plant a kiss at the crown of your head. His hands smelled like iron and gunpowder, and his breath smelled faintly of malted liquor poorly masked with mint. If only you could have confronted him about it. You just swallowed, staring straight ahead where he was directing your gaze.

Reaching over your shoulder, Leon’s steady hand plucked a detangling brush from the vanity, running his fingers through your hair carefully with his other hand. He felt through the length of your soft locks, mindful as always not to tug at any of the little knots he discovered here and there. Shortly after, he was running the brush through your hair with gentle veneration, delicate, even strokes that nearly threatened to put you to sleep.

Leon watched your expression in the mirror as your lashes fluttered, your head lolling back as if mindlessly chasing the attention. A low chuckle fell from his parted lips. “Feels good, huh? I’ll bet it does. Your hair is so messy, baby… You weren’t playing by yourself all day while daddy was gone, were you?”

He was teasing you. A subtle grin begged to tug at your lips, and you let it. Still, you were sure to shake your head ‘no’-- after all, you couldn’t have him thinking you had taken advantage of his extended absence to be naughty, even if you had been awfully tempted to. 

Carding his fingers through your freshly brushed hair, he hummed in mock consideration for a moment, like he couldn’t decide whether or not he believed you. Finally, he turned you around in your chair to face him, tilting your chin up so he could give you a kiss. “I know my baby would never. Always the perfect princess for me, even when I’m not always the perfect daddy.”

That last part came out a little quieter, like he was ashamed to even say it out loud, but somehow still, it was the loudest part to you. You softened.

He noticed, and he, too, softened. The tension in the air dissipated a bit– it was still somewhere around here, likely waiting right outside the door, but it was no longer actively present, at least. Leon gave you another sweet kiss, this one to your forehead, before gently correcting your posture again.

Pushing your hair back with a soft, fluffy headband, he opened up one of the drawers in the vanity and began to take a few things out. First, a light moisturizer, which he massaged into your skin with a jade roller that was cool to the touch and just as relaxing as always. Your moisturizer was followed by a gentle under-eye balm, a thin layer of primer and a hydrating lip oil.

The way he moved was so fluid, so methodical, like a conductor before an orchestra, and you were his masterpiece. In Leon’s eyes, you might as well have been carved out of the finest, most expensive marble, and you were to be treated no less delicately.

He stepped out just for a moment to wash his hands, a clean slate for the next step of the process, your makeup.

You honestly don’t know how he did it. Judging by some of the techniques and products he would use, you could only guess he must have been doing his research online or something, though where he found the time to do so was another question entirely. His lines weren’t always clean, his blending wasn’t always perfectly smooth, yet somehow you always still felt he’d managed to upstage you with the finished product– perhaps it was because he could see you in a way you couldn’t see yourself.

“Daddy?” You chanced a whisper, but he was quick to press a finger to the plush of your lips, ever so gently.

“Shh… Just sit nice and still for me, alright, sugar?”

You nodded, and he resumed his work with a careful touch.

Soft brushes and plush sponges worked their way around the surface of your face, applying shadow and powders and liner, with Leon holding his breath now and then to ensure a steady hand. Your cheeks were rouged, your lips were glossed, your lashes were carefully curled and it was all topped off with a cooling mist of setting spray and a gentle kiss to the forehead.

“There you are, hm? My beautiful baby dolly,” He mused, reaching forward to tilt your head up by your chin, then to the left, then to the right, checking over his handiwork from every angle. Adding a dash of blush to the tip of your nose, he deemed your makeup complete. “Just perfect.”

Slowly, Leon turned your chair around again, allowing you to look at yourself, and yeah. Wow.

You looked gorgeous, you were glowing even. All of your best features were adorned with purposeful swipes of blush, shade and highlight, your eyes dreamy and sweet, your skin smooth and radiant. He let you look at yourself for a moment, just admiring the expression of awe on you– you were always exceptionally stunning, of course, but you looked all the sweeter in these sacred moments in which you recognized your own beauty.

Leon rested one hand on your shoulder to recapture your attention, his other hand coming forward to stroke your cheek. Your long lashes fluttered as you met his eyes in the mirror, a silent signal that your focus had returned to him. Now the hand that caressed your cheekbone was coming forward to take your own. He helped you up from your seat at the vanity and across the room, to the plush chaise lounge in front of that standing mirror.

The room filled with the quiet noises of rummaging, Leon sifting through drawers and racks of hangers stuffed with what had to have been thousands of dollars worth of designer, a stark contrast to his own attire of largely plain black shirts and jeans that had seen better days.

But you were his princess. Leon was just Leon, and Leon couldn’t possibly deserve as much as a princess.

Turning over his shoulder, Leon approached you with a simple pair of white stockings in hand, sinking to his knees right before the chaise lounge to put them on you. Your ankle looked so slight and delicate in his strong hand as he lifted your leg, drawing a line of kisses up the inside of your calf to follow while he rolled the stocking up higher and higher, until the hem reached just above your knee.

He repeated the action with your other leg, the movement of his hands fluid and practiced, but his breaths were becoming shorter, his kisses a little wetter and needier on your skin. Your own breaths were quickly falling in sync with his own just by watching him dial in on your sex, his calloused hands propping your legs up onto his shoulders so he could shuffle closer.

Gripping you by the hips to angle you up to his liking, he buried his nose into the seat of your thin lace panties and breathed you in deep, as though he were starving for oxygen. The tip of his nose nuzzled forward to brush your panties aside, and just as soon as your slit was bared to him, his tongue was darting out to taste it.

He spread it flat in a slow, languid stripe from your weeping hole all the way to your throbbing clit, his lips closing around the little bundle of nerves to coax it from beneath its hood. You sucked in a breath, your manicured nails printing into the lush material of the furniture you were perched on, trying as hard as you could to keep quiet and still, to allow him to guide you, to play with you as he so desired. Luckily, he wasn’t in too stern of a mood this evening anyway– you weren’t likely to be reprimanded for small errors like that, especially not while he was otherwise occupied.

“Fuck,” He growled lowly into your cunt, leaving white prints where he gripped your pillowy thighs just to ground himself. You could feel his body growing warm as he lost himself in you, lapping up every drop of your arousal with greed. For just a moment, his dilated, denim eyes flicked up to look at you, his rosy cheeks gently squished between your quaking thighs as he puffed out, “Just look at you, my dolly… Daddy’s favorite little toy…”

Your eyes screwed shut with pleasure as his hot mouth met your center again, and when they fluttered open, you caught sight of it all in the mirror. It nearly knocked the wind out of you.

Your dainty legs spread out over your gruff boyfriend’s broad shoulders, adorned in delicate white stockings that looked pure and bright against his tight black t-shirt; his sandy blonde hair damp and messy as he wedged himself between your thighs and drank from you like a fountain; your hair and makeup fit for a gala as your expression contorted with rapture… it could have been an oil painting.

Every swipe of his tongue up the length of you, every flutter along your swollen bud, every deep, wanton, needy groan had your eyes rolling back in your head, your thighs trembling and tightening around his jaw. Every inch of you felt featherlight with electricity as he worked his magic on you, more than capable of making you cum in three minutes flat, but opting not to for the fun of it.

Not that you were complaining. At times he could get carried away in his teasing, but tonight was not one of those nights. Leon wasn’t going to waste your time dangling you over the edge much longer than was strictly necessary. As soon as he noticed you were having trouble sitting still, quiet whines and sighs of pleasure occasionally slipping out from between your glossy lips, he knew it would be unfair to string you along any further.

Leon was practically making out with your folds, the room quiet aside from the slick sounds and lustful whimpers that accompanied his dining of you. Soon it was joined with the low, husky timbre of his voice as he groaned into you, “Gonna cum for me, baby? Gonna make a pretty mess all over daddy’s face?”

In all honesty, you barely registered his words, but all it ever took to get you nodding like a bobblehead was that upward lilt in his tone that indicated he was asking you something. That was all you needed to know that the correct answer was yes.

Smirking briefly to himself as he witnessed your eager and rapt approval, he doubled the intensity of his efforts, his hands wrenching tight into your thighs to pull you flush against his face, but more importantly, to keep you from wriggling away. He didn’t bother to shush you when a shocked yelp bubbled out of you, your body jerking in response to the added stimulation. After all, it was the response he was expecting, and the response he yearned for.

Your shaking hands darted forward to claw at his hair, half-lidded eyes catching your reflection in the mirror once more. Your skin was warm, your breasts heaving as your spine drew into a fine arch and your lips parted to gasp in all the oxygen you could get to your dizzy brain, heels digging into the prominent muscles in his back. He felt every quiver and twitch of your muscles and it only spurred him on. He ate you up like you were his last meal.

Your vision went white as your climax crashed over you hard– the sounds he made were obscene, a satisfied groan vibrating from deep in his chest at the syrupy sweet taste of your arousal. It was an essence he couldn’t possibly get enough of.

As you laid there panting, your legs shaking after the tension in them released, Leon’s eyes dragged up the length of your body with pride. He carefully pulled your panties back into place with a sweet kiss to the bow in the center of them and an affectionate pat to the thigh. 

“There’s a good girl,” He hummed, crawling up from between your legs to kiss you, his mouth still warm and slightly slick with your own spend. “A perfect little doll. All I have to do is pull the right strings to get you to sing for me, huh, princess?”

Once more, you nodded, eyes fluttering shut just for a moment as he kissed your forehead. Then, he stood to his full height again, one hand taking yours and the other steadying you by the dip of your waist as he raised you up to join him, wobbly knees be damned. After all, he wasn’t finished playing dress-up yet. He took a moment to ensure you had regained your balance enough to be able to stand without assistance before opening up one of the wardrobes in search of the remainder of your outfit.

Moments like these only piqued your curiosity in terms of how his brain worked. Sure, you’d been dating for a long time and it was safe to say you knew him quite well, but his penchant for compartmentalization never ceased to astound you. He possessed the sometimes frightening ability to just switch his brain from one mode to the next.

You were brought back to reality once more by the feeling of his lips on your neck. He murmured into your ear, “Arms up, darlin’,” and he barely even finished saying it before you were complying.

You lifted your arms, and he slipped a new dress over your head. There it was, the compensation for being home late, for dropping off the face of the Earth again. The dress was flattering and soft, a delicate blush pink color with embroidered details along the bust and white lace hemming. He drew up the zipper without resistance, and as it reached its apex, the fabric hugged your form perfectly, as though the garment itself was made with you in mind.

Leon kneeled down to straighten out your stockings, and then the skirt of your dress, his eyes scanning over you meticulously in search of any little imperfections that might need fixing. Finding none, he wandered over to where he’d left his jacket, fishing a baby blue box out of the pocket. You had become quite familiar with that blue lately– Tiffany.

Nestled in the slender box was a dainty diamond necklace that now rested right at your collarbones, the clasp in the back secured with a smooch. He carded his fingers through your hair one last time before turning you around to look at yourself in the mirror, his hands rested on your hips, head stooped low to smother the crook of your throat in kisses.

“What do you think?” He whispered in your ear, nibbling gently at the shell.

“Beautiful,” You replied just as quietly, “Thank you, daddy.”

[eternalsams]

Never Again ↝ Tyler Owens

pairing: Tyler Owens x gn!reader

content/warning: bit of fluff, pet names, mention of sex (but no description whatsoever), mockery, swearing, slight angst

summary: When Tyler is invited on a talk show about his notoriety on YouTube, he doesn't expect that kind of meeting.

words count: 1.6k

notes: english isn't my first language, please take that into consideration. NOT PROOF READ

You just came home from the groceries, your arms loaded with full bags and balancing yourself not to drop the keys when Tyler almost jumped on you. "Babe, I'm gonna be on TV!" He exclaimed, holding his phone and showing you the email he received. You blinked at him and didn't answer immediately, trying to process his words. "You what?" You then asked. He slipped his phone in the back pocket of his jeans and grabbed the two bags you were carrying, helping you get everything inside. "They somehow found my email and asked me if I wanted to be interviewed on live TV. National TV, babe!" He laughed and his phone started ringing. He pulled it out and his smile widened. "It's Boone. Don't worry about the groceries, I'll store everything myself, beautiful." He answered the phone and went to your shared room to call his best friend. You could hear his excited voice as him and Boone started getting each other going about the whole thing.

You grabbed Tyler's laptop and opened his mails, reading the last one he received. He was right, it was a big thing. The Tornado Wranglers would get a lot of new visibility with that interview. You were excited for Tyler, he loved being on camera, that was for sure. But he also loved meeting people who were interested in what he was doing. With that interview, he had the chance of showing the whole country how fascinating weather could truly be. You were disrupted in your reading by Tyler's scream in the bedroom, quickly followed by a loud laugh. You chuckled at how excited he was and closed the laptop before starting to put away the groceries. Tyler quickly joined you after his numerous phone calls and gently scolded you when he noticed you started storing the groceries while he said he'd do it himself.

"Did you answer yet?" You asked him after the euphoria of the moment passed. "No, not yet." He chuckled as he grabbed a piece of bread to eat it. "I wanted to tell you and the guys first. But especially you. What do you think?" He then asked, looking into your eyes. "I think it's amazing, Tyler. You're so passionate about what you do and you know so much. You'll be able to show people how interesting the weather can be. Maybe some kids are gonna go study meteorology because of you." You smiled at him as you grabbed his hand in yours. Your boyfriend smiled at you and brought your hand to his lips to place a delicate kiss on your knuckles. "It's gonna be amazing." He practically day-dreamed. You laughed and bent over the table to gently kiss his lips, your hand taking place on his cheek.

Two weeks later, you were standing behind Tyler as a girl brushed some mattifying powder on his face. He didn't tell you but you knew his heart was beating fast and hard in his chest, both from excitement and anxiety. He was so scared to make a fool of himself, to fumble over his words and look like he was a fraud. When the makeup artist finished her job, someone opened the door and announced you had 5 minutes left before Tyler was called on-stage. "You ready?" You asked, smoothing his flannel shirt. "Why is my heart beating so fast? I drive through tornado for a living, I shouldn't be scared of this." He sighed, carefully rubbing his eyes not to ruin the makeup artist's work. "Don't worry, it's just the nerves. You'll be great." You ran your fingers in his hair, styling it the way you loved it and he kept it everyday. "I'm just a bit upset Boone and the others weren't invited. We're a team, they should be there too." He closed his eyes and tried to focus on your fingers against his scalp.

The door opened one last time and a man called for Tyler. You kissed his cheek and wished him good luck before you watched him leave with the man to get everything checked for the mic. A woman came to lead you in another room where the program was on TV. You thanked her and grabbed a glass of water before taking a seat on the sofa. A few minutes later, Tyler was called on-stage and you saw him on the TV. He was smiling like a kid on Christmas morning as he shook the host's hand and took a seat in front of the man. A wide smile took place on your lips as you watched the man you love glow with pride on cameras.

"Tyler, I'm so glad you could join us tonight. You have quite a reputation on the internet!" The host started when the applause stopped in the audience. "The pleasure is mutual, thank you very much for the invite. It's an honor to be here." Tyler said, looking around at the audience. "For anyone who doesn't know Tyler, he posts videos on YouTube of himself and his staff driving through tornados in Oklahoma and Arkansas. You must be some crazy fella to do this willingly!" The man said, making the audience laugh and Tyler chuckled. "It's a good summary, yes. But we're professionals, we are equipped to do so and we only drive through EF1s or small EF2s." Tyler reminded with a smile. "EF1, EF2, what's that?" You knew the host wasn't stupid enough to not know what that meant, but you were grateful that Tyler could explain it, the passion on his face was pure gold. "It's a scale we give tornados. But what's really interesting is that we don't scale a tornado according to its size or its speed. We give them their scale according to their damages." Tyler explained. "So how do you know you're driving through an EF1 and not an EF5?" The host asked. "I studied meteorology so I can identify whether it's gonna turn bad or not and if I catch a single sign it's gonna turn violent, we just leave and find shelter." He explained with simple words.

"So you studied meteorology, got a degree, and still shoot fireworks up tornados for YouTube?" The man laughed and you could see something break inside Tyler's eyes. He played it off and chuckled. "Well, yes. I love that job, I'm having fun with my best friends and entertaining people. That's the dream." He laughed and looked around, starting to notice some unpleasant looks in the audience. "And have you ever tried doing anything else in that car when the tornado is hitting you? I don't know, read a book, play scrabble or even have sex." New laughter were heard in the audience as the host laughed at his own joke. A dry smile stretched Tyler's lips as he slowly nodded, thinking about how to answer this. He couldn't just leave, he wanted to be the more mature on this stage. Before he could even say anything, the host looked back at him with a smile. "Your partner is part of your team, right? Maybe if you asked, you could get a lot of views." He joked, making Tyler's blood boil in his veins. "That won't be YouTube anymore, that's more like reality show. That's not what we do." Some laughter were heard in the audience but he knew better.

"Alright, alright... But be honest for a minute, you have a million followers on YouTube, your whole staff-" The host started to say. "We're a team. I'm not the boss, I'm only the driver." Tyler corrected and you could feel he started to lose his patience. "Your team is very active on social media, you must've had some weird requests." The host then asked, faking a smile for the television. Tyler knew what he was trying to do, he wanted him to admit he'd been asked for a sextape through a tornado. And even though he received that peculiar request once or twice, nobody needed to know. You and him would never record that kind of video to post on the internet. "Someone once asked us to eat a pizza. And we all ended up having tomato sauce all over our faces." Tyler answered with a chuckle, now counting down the minutes before the end of the show. You watched as Tyler started to tap his foot in annoyance and you almost prayed for the host to stop his disrespectful questions.

The show regained a more respectful rhythm and when Tyler was dismissed, he immediately joined you in the backroom. "Let's go." He only said, grabbing your bag before taking your hand in his and walking, if not running, to the exit. He didn't say anything more until you were both in the car. He didn't start the engine, only staring at the steering wheel. "Tyler?" You gently put your hand on his arm but he violently hit the wheel with his hand. "Fuck! I really thought... I'm so stupid for thinking they'd be willing to listen to me." He rubbed his face and fought the tears away. Shame, embarrassement and anger were swirling inside him. "It's not your fault, Tyler. They were real bastards in there, you didn't deserve this." You tried to calm him down. You leaned over and placed a kiss on his shoulder, feeling him breathe deeply and relax. "Come on, let's go back to the hotel and tomorrow we'll have our flight home. You can tell Boone New York was shit and he'll tell you 'I told you so' before offering you a beer." You chuckled softly as you gently stroked his arm. Tyler nodded and started the rental before driving to your hotel. At least the show runners had the decency to pay for everything.

taglist:

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@og-baby-ob14 @attastarkey @sehnsuchts-trunken @tngrace @rockandrollbuckarooo @natzp03 @havaneselover08 @callsignrambam @trustingmina @obsessed-fan-alert @siriuslysirius05

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[hey-august]

DP December 🔴🔵

Ayyy, here's another one! There are 3 more ideas to get to, so let's see how far we get. Here's the first one, featuring Crocodile and Buggy.

WC: ~800

Warnings: NSFW, Shanks x gn!Reader x Buggy, insertion sex, double penetration - reader receiving, mention of male masturbation, creampies, cum eating, profanity

You were between the two men and it was overwhelming. You were lost to every detail - the heat from their skin against your back and chest, the flex of muscle and power keeping you in place, tenderness on your shoulders and neck from harsh teeth, their voices and breaths in your ear, the sheer fullness that had you gasping for air with each thrust.

“Fuck, I feel you rubbing against me,” Shanks groaned. His movements faltered with the weakness of desire. He shifted his one arm, moving your leg hooked over his elbow. A dazed moan escaped his lips as he grinded inside you.

The slight change in position felt like so much more. Buggy continued to fuck you, sliding against the length of Shanks’ cock. You felt so tight, as though your body was constricting the intrusions and refusing to give way to the two pirates.

Yet, at the same time, you felt impossibly stretched. Open and exposed. Pushed to your limits with both men filling you at the same time, sharing the same space within your body.

“Buggy-” The red-haired man’s whine was muffled by painted lips.

You picked up where Shanks left off, your whimpers falling on his chest.

The sound of their kisses and half-spoken thoughts fell over you. Their hunger for each other surrounded you.

Buggy’s need for Shanks to shut the fuck up. Shanks’ desire for Buggy’s attention. Buggy’s hand tangled in red hair. Shanks teeth on Buggy’s lips. Meanwhile, you let them find their wants and needs through your body.

Buggy pulled back first, breathless. With a shuddering ingale, he rut into you. Deep and slow, a pace he could match his breathing to.

“This reminds me of when we were younger.” Shanks’ words ran together, sliding into each other and unable to keep space. He was drunk on euphoria.

An irritated groan changed pitch at the next batch of teasing words.

“You remember, don’t you, Buggy? When you said we shouldn’t screw each other?” 

“Knock it off,” came from behind.

“C’mon…” Shanks rested his head on yours as he spoke, letting you hear the rustle of his stubble against your hair.

“W-what happened?” you asked. This wasn’t your conversation, but you had a role. A job to fill, while you were being filled.

“He’d say we sh-shouldn’t have sex. He said he didn’t like me that way.” 

“Shut up, Shanks,” Buggy whined through his teeth, which were now softly clamped over your shoulder to bite back his own words.

You grunted from a sloppy thrust from the clown and Shanks took your noise as affirmation to continue.

“So we couldn’t fuck, right?” 

Another strangled noise from Buggy. “Shanks!”

“But it was okay if he jacked us off. Buggy would hold both our cocks in his hands and - fuck - it felt like this,” Shanks huffed, as he picked up the pace in more places than one.

“It didn’t count if we got off that way. It was what friends did. They h-helped each other.” The story continued over the faint protests still spoken against your skin. “So he’d help himself to a handful and rub our dicks together, the greedy thing.”

“Shanks…” Buggy’s plea was pathetic and reedy. Poorly disguised.

“Can you guess who would cum first? Who couldn’t get enough of feeling me?” Each word was punctuated with a thrust, one that was as intentional as the questions Shanks asked.

Buggy answered with a choked noise and pulses deep inside you, his cum coating your walls and Shanks. You could feel some slide out while Shanks’ continued sliding in and out.

“Uh-huh, that’s it, Buggy.”

Shanks’ breath grew ragged with each whimper that came from Buggy. Neither one stopped their movements as they continued the moves they practiced many years ago. Shanks came with a shudder that threw him off balance. He stumbled slightly and you tensed with the movement, earning delicious noises from front and back.

Your high didn’t arrive with theirs, but it wasn’t forgotten. Buggy replaced himself, putting his mouth against your spent hole, ready to clean you and Shanks. Meanwhile, the other pirate devoured you himself with a kiss so full of passion and appreciation that your chest threatened to burst first.

Working in tandem, they brought you to the brink of pleasure and beyond. Again and again until you were too lost to know where one person ended and the other began.

When your thoughts finally stopped buzzing and they landed back in your empty head and tired body, you found yourself nestled in warm sheets. You were curled into Shanks, your head resting on his left shoulder. On the other side was Buggy. He was already asleep and drooling, with Shanks' arm wrapped around and holding him close. There was an arm wrapped around you as well. Although it fit better on Buggy’s body, for the moment the appendage belonged to Shanks. 

And for that moment, he could hold you both in a warm embrace.

[pirateprincessblog]

Blue Paradise

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: the news of park seonghwa, your best friend's brother you haven't seen in years, joining your birthday trip to maldives doesn't excite you the slightest. so far.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: park seonghwa x reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 19.5k

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: smut, bit of angst, summer love, innocent but curious seonghwa, experienced reader, childhood friends, a little sadist reader, almost a milf, subby seonghwa

𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: oral (both receiving), public, submissive seonghwa, dominant reader, gagging

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing, nsfw scenes, mentions of eating disorder, mentions of body dysmorphia

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: use of the word noona! i'm not a koreaboo i promise, and i don't care if you think it's cringe, the word noona has a special grip on me. eternal sunshine prettiest boy seonghwa is the one i'm writing about in this piece <33 my sadistic side is showing a little here. also ???????

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.

when you said the words i'm fine out loud, you weren't sure if you were trying to convince the group of girls in front of you, or yourself. you weren't angry. nor sad. you were simply disappointed. the notebook you were subconsciously gripping in your lap contained all the plans and goals that were now impossible to fulfill. just two days before leaving your hometown and visiting the sweet tropical delight, nearly all the people from your friend group decided they wouldn't be going. the trip was paid by you, as a celebration for your birthday.

maybe you chose the wrong location. or the wrong time. or just the wrong people. it didn't matter. you could say goodbye to the printed images of the blue water and the clear sky in the notebook, along with the idea of swimming with sharks or drinking straight out of a coconut. you worked hard to save up for this celebration. hours of working even after your shift was done, drowning in sweat and running home just for a few extra dollar bills. little by little, you saved up for all the tickets. true, your parents did give you money here and there. but you have your little hobbies and dirty pleasures, and oh, you just love desserts and dresses. it's not easy to save up when the marketing teams of your favorite stores work harder than you or your parents. how can you not buy that tight bright pink sequin dress with the feathery sleeve ends? and the heels which come in half price if you buy the matching bag? what a steal.

your eyes scan the room, looking for the slightest sign of guilt on their faces. yet, not a single one was visible. you wished to rip their plane tickets in front of their faces, throw the notebook at the girl who proposed the idea of rather staying home instead of getting drunk in a whole different location far from home. you witnessed their excitement, screaming and yelling when you announced the trip. then, what happened?

"we're sorry, but-"

"you're not sorry. you just want the feeling of guilt to disappear. that is, if you're feeling guilty at all." you interrupt, your tone pure frost.

your best friend cups your hand, making you soften the grip on the notebook. in other circumstances, she is the one who does the talking. but today, she is willingly letting you handle it. you've had enough of everyone using you and reaching out to you only when they need something.

"it's not like we took any money from you. you're acting like we robbed you or something." the girl says, looking at the rest of the group and asking for support.

"not directly, you didn't." your face stays stone cold. "but cancelling this late means i cannot get a refund. or real friends to go with me."

they all scoff in disbelief, some of them already angry and ready to start spitting insults. you don't care. you're ready for everything they have to throw at you.

"real friends? are you fucking with me?"

you feel like you're in a euphoria episode. and yes, it is as fun as it looks. especially when you know damn well you're right, and they're wrong. you watch them yell at you, accusing you of accusing them, making up a thing or two along the way, even getting into your face and pointing into your chest. you watch with a lazy smile, which only enrages them more. each moment that passes, they're only proving you right. they were here just for the money. if you asked them your favorite colour, they'd just look at each other helplessly. but if you asked them how much your parents have given you for christmas, they'd know to the last cent.

"you know what? fuck your parents, your trip, your money and your fake ass."

and just like that, you were left alone with the only true friend in the big house. the appetizers were untouched, and so were the cocktails. you feel a hand wrap around your shoulders.

"we'll figure something out. i won't let anyone ruin your birthday."

you smile, this time sincerely. it takes less than fifteen minutes to lift your spirits. with your friend saying stupid things in a normal tone, it's easy to come out of the shell. you're already opening your notebook again, scribbling over the names that were once involved, and adding up new plans.

"you know, we have to go swimsuit shopping. i'm still bloated from the period, and i don't think it'll pass until the trip. the plane ride will only make it worse."

you agree, already picturing the colour and shape you'd want to wear. but still, what to do with the remaining tickets? the amount of money is too huge to just let it go. you can't ask your parents to come, they're busy with a recent project that is supposed to help their business. you can't think of any other friends, and there's no way in hell you'll bring your sibling. constant bickering is something you wish to leave for home, not bring to the maldives.

"what do i do with the tickets?" you mumble, your head now lying on top of the notebook. you feel helpless. at this point, you want to cancel and never go anywhere again.

"well, you might kill me for this, but i have an idea."

you turn your head to the side, cheek pressing into the notebook. your friend is sprawled over the couch upside down, her feet resting on top of the backrest and her head hanging from the seat. she dramatically chews the chips, purposely dragging it out to tease you.

"come on now, we have a little over twenty four hours from the flight. i'm begging you, give me a solution that will save my money."

the girl finally swallows the chips, then looks up at the ceiling.

"when was the last time you visited my home?"

not sure how that is connected to her idea, you raise an eyebrow in confusion. "i can't remember. your parents usually come over here instead of us coming over. why?"

"well, you do know that i have a brother?"

"that i do." you laugh, remembering the little rascal. even though he was younger, he never hesitated to flip you both off when you bothered him, or kick you in your knees if you even looked at him the wrong way. ever since he enrolled to a high-school in a city nearby, you barely saw him. then, he went to college. he comes over every other weekend, but sometimes not even that. it's been many years since you've last seen him. "little park seonghwa."

"not so little now," she laughs, "i think he's, like, taller than your dad."

"impossible. he was shorter than me last time i saw him."

"yeah, because he was eleven."

you roll your eyes. she's right, but you'd rather eat scrapped toast burns than admit it. you hear the leather of the couch squeaking, then footsteps. she sits next to you on the floor, then pulls the notebook towards herself without warning. your head follows the notebook, almost falling off and hitting the edge of the table. you glare at her, but she just giggles mischievously.

"i thought, we could invite him and his friends."

"invite your little brother with us? to the maldives?"

she nods, not seeing anything wrong with it. your brain is already listing out what things are out of question and impossible.

"first of all, he's like, fifteen."

"he's twenty-four."

"he's basically a kid." you ignore her, sticking to your own idea as if you know her brother better than her.

"you'd be surprised how much of an adult he is now. little turd still gets on my nerves, but he has come a long way. he even hugs me sometimes."

you sigh. in your head, he is still the little eleven year old seonghwa with blue shorts and the green polo shirt. seonghwa with the blue crocs and a dirty ipad. seonghwa who would enter the room without knocking just so he could wipe his boogers on your clothes. gross.

"fine, let's say he comes along. am i supposed to wear a bikini in front of him?"

"that's normal! it's just a bikini. besides, i haven't seen him make a move on a girl since he got roasted by one for his hair at homecoming."

you can't help but feel bad for the poor boy. your brain forms an unwanted image of seonghwa, all dressed up and fixed for his date, only for his date to bring him down in front of everyone.

"i did not need to imagine that." you mumble to yourself, then try to take the pen from your friend. "give me that."

"no, wait! he has like seven friends, so one ticket will still be an extra. still better than all nine going to waste, right?"

"right."

"so,

seonghwa takes mel's ticket,

wooyoung takes lara's ticket,

mingi takes josie's-"

"hold on, hold on. they're all boys?"

"men, yes."

you close your eyes and pinch the bridge of your nose. you try to breathe, but the idea of taking literal kids to such an expensive vacation is driving you crazy.

"i'm going there to get drunk, get a tan and fuck somebody in my pretty pink dress, maybe even get scissored by you, not to babysit your brother and his friends. and what the fuck are those names, are they forming a kpop group?"

the girl laughs, her head falling back against the sofa behind you. all of this is so hilarious to her, while you're feeling like it's a bad dream that'll be gone if you pinch yourself enough.

"first of all, very flattering, i appreciate that. i'll think about the offer. second, you're literally just a couple years older than them. and third, they're more than capable of getting more drunk than you and fuck someone, just like us."

there wasn't any space to think about it. it's either spending the week guarding kids from getting alcohol poisoning or spending the week feeling guilt because of the lost money.

"fine."

"oh? just like that?"

"what other choice do i have? let the kids have fun."

she giggles, then finishes the scribbling on the page. you scan over the names, then the female ones that were crossed out. you feel your heart tighten, but remembering that you got rid of something you didn't need the whole time, you feel at ease.

"i'll tell them to come over tomorrow, just so you can meet them and tell them the plan."

"yeah, that'd be great."

the rest of the day is spent outside, visiting various stores and trying on various swimsuits. all of them were extremely exposing, something you weren't quite used to. still, you managed to gain the confidence and buy a risky set. a baby pink set with panties that had a lower cut than you preferred, along with a shiny waist chain, and a decent bra. the summer heat waves were more than present, causing people to run into stores just to cool off, including the two of you.

after an ice cream, a few burgers and slushies, you finally collapsed on your bed. it wasn't long until your alarm clock had your eyes peeling open. you had slept for almost nine hours, yet it felt like ten minutes.

your friend was supposed to be here around dinner, bringing takeout and the boys with her. you made a deal that the boys could sleep over, so that you can drive to the airport together without having to wait for anyone. you packed all day, proudly stacking your bikinis for each day of the week. the pink one was reserved for the day of your birthday, the shiny chains carefully placed in the corner so they don't get broken in transit.

you had just packed your backpack, changed into a dress that didn't stick to your skin, letting your it breathe and get a relief from the hot summer evening. you admired your skin, wishing for it to stay that clean during the following week. you had refrained yourself from eating chocolate for three whole weeks, and the results finally showed up. you were proud of yourself for not picking on it, and decided to keep a count for it. it'll make you happy when you see a progress each morning.

deep voices travel to your ears, a sign that they have arrived. you didn't expect them to sound this grown up. you expected those soft boyish voices, that match their boy body structures. but once you reach the bottom of the stairs, you stop breathing for a moment. these weren't boys. not at all.

they were men.

eight tall men stood in your living room, patiently waiting and helping your best friend sort out the food orders. one of them stood extra close to her, telling off others if they get too close. could it be?

and as if he knew what you were thinking, he turns his head, eyes looking directly into yours. you stand there, not moving a muscle. you are scared to breathe. a sudden wave of anxiety washes over your body. these were all grown men foreign to you. and then it hits you.

they're all going on a vacation with you. they'll all see you in a bikini, in your dresses, they'll see you drink. they'll probably see you get railed somewhere behind a club. they'll probably see you at your worst when you're near alcohol. fuck.

"oh, there you are! i was already starting to go mad with all these male alphas." she turns to look at them, and one of them sticks his tongue out at her. "let's eat first and then you'll do the introduction and all that shit."

park seonghwa doesn't avert his gaze from you. he smiles, sending you a little wave from across the room and giving you the prettiest eyes you've ever seen in your life. the sparkly irises wake up a volcanic eruption in your stomach; something you haven't felt in a while. the boy- young man- sits down on the floor, his back resting against the sofa. seeing your frozen state, the girl comes towards you, hands resting on your shoulders.

"look, i know it's a bit much for you, and you definitely didn't expect them to look or act this mature and intimidating, - and, well, bulk - but give them a chance. they're really nice and comfy to be around."

you nod, then skim over the group once again. they're all wearing short sweats with basic t-shirts, yet you feel under-dressed. you wished you put something nicer on, like that green flower dress or-

"come on, now. your food is getting cold."

they have spared a seat for both of you on the other sofa, along with a set of forks and plastic plates.

"my friend is a little shy, give her a moment," she announces, and pretends to not notice you glaring from the side. "anyways, enjoy your meals."

everyone eats in silence, occasionally murmuring something among themselves. you take the moment when you're out of focus to scan each one of them. they were all built athletically, with their t-shirts straining against their muscles and the thighs occasionally flexing as they laughed or spoke. then, you stopped at seonghwa. his dark hair was softly falling over his eyes, and his bright teeth showed up every now and then whenever his friends spoke. you watched his hands spin the fork to get the spaghetti easier into his mouth, the veins on his arms distracting you from your own food. he brings the food to his lips, eating in a way so polite, chewing with his mouth closed and no messy ketchup accidents. you were amazed that this man is the little seonghwa with boogers smeared on his star wars t-shirt.

he catches your gaze again, this time smiling wider than before.

"noona, how have you been?"

you wish to bury your face between the sofa cushions. the name he once used to call you because his mother made him, was now used because he himself wanted to. why else would a grown man call you that in the place far from his homeland, where that labeling is not necessary?

"good, seonghwa. very good." you manage to say, cheeks burning as he smiles sweetly at you. "what about you?"

"i've been good, noona. pushing through college, trying not to drop out."

"says the guy with all of his exams at not lower than ninety-five percent," his friend scoffs.

he earns himself a nudge in the ribs, then whines dramatically.

"jongho, you're basically in kindergarten." your friend teases, and the young man acts offended.

"just because i'm the youngest-"

"so, seonghwa's sister's best friend, exactly where are we going and what will we be doing?"

you laugh at the addressing, then set the plate aside. the focus is on you, and your head becomes dizzy for a moment. you feel lost in time and space, and it takes you a while to get back to reality. you're there, surrounded by nine people who are waiting for you to speak instead of staring blankly. it takes one knee pat from your friend to assure you that it's okay to speak, and that they'll listen.

"we'll be staying at bungalows, the small ones you see on insta all the time. which means two to three people per one. i'll make the list later, so we can settle as soon as we arrive and not lose time on organizing."

you continue to explain your plans, but make sure to tell them they're not obligated to follow what you had in mind. still, they all seemed amazed at your ideas that none of them protested. by the end of the meal, the conversation had gone from stiff to comfortable, with multiple people talking and you feeling confident enough to speak up when needed.

"seonghwa is scared of sharks, what do we do about that?"

"i'm not, you dipshit."

"language," you laugh, looking at the bickering young men in front of you.

"sorry, noona," and there it is, the sickeningly sweet smile again. he does it so naturally, it has your heart fluttering.

the conversation about sharks and how harmless they are continues, and your focus shifts on the dessert they brought. you ate a whole plate of your favorite takeout meal, and drank almost three glasses of soda. would they think you eat too much if you took just one cupcake?

you reach for the red velvet delight, your eyes focused on your friend as she scolds the boys for the unnecessary swearing and dirty comments. your fingers brush against something cold, and you look down to find seonghwa reaching for the same cupcake as you. he sees you hesitate, so he splits the dessert in half, leaving the bigger one for you on the plate. you give him a smile of gratitude, then lean back into the leather and listen about dinosaurs and chickens and how they're related.

almost two and a half hours later, you notice them getting sleepy. they help you pick up the trash from the dinner, and then stand in front of you, as if waiting for orders.

"i'll pull out these sofas for four of you, and the other four can fight about two guest bedrooms with a couple bed."

seven of them call dibs, running upstairs to the rooms and fighting along the way.

"like i said, kids."

"oh, i don't think kids can do this."

you look at seonghwa, who was fine with sleeping on a pullout sofa, and raise your eyebrows with amusement, and amazement, as he flexes his arm in front of you. your expression is probably priceless. the veins traveling along his muscular arms are giving you trouble breathing, or existing at all.

"stop flexing in front of my friend, you idiot. she's not impressed."

"right," he says, clicking his tongue and laughing when he gets hit by a pillow. "i'll take it from here. you go rest, noona."

seonghwa takes the covers and pillows from you, making sure to brush his fingers against yours once again, looking into your eyes with a smile while doing so. he could step on you and smile like that, you'd ask him to do it again.

"oh, it's not a problem." you insist.

your friend clicks her tongue, then rolls her eyes. she puts her hands on your shoulders, gently pushing you upstairs to your room.

"if the little turd wants to set up his bed, let him. that's the only use you'll have of him this whole trip."

"i love you too!"

and that's the last thing you hear from him before going inside your room. voices echo through the hallway, coming from the two guest rooms. you hear them play various games to decide who wins the bed, yet when one side wins, they switch to a different game that benefits the other side. they stop only after you've brushed your teeth and changed into sleepwear. you hear multiple heavy footsteps passing by your door, then knocking.

"yes?" you say, looking at the door through the mirror. your fingers don't let go of the halfway braided hair as a head peeks in, eyes quickly scanning the room, then falling on you. you remember the man as wooyoung. he's the social butterfly of the group, that you've noticed.

"nice pj's, noona." he grins, shamelessly staring at your bottom. "pandas look very cute on you."

"wooyoung you come over here right fucking now." hongjoong, you think, warns him. you laugh, still looking at the young man standing at your door, now holding it open for everyone to see inside.

four of them are lined up behind him, trying to sneakily look inside. until hongjoong rushes them all downstairs, then points his finger at wooyoung with a stern look.

"out."

"whoops, gotta go. good night, noona."

the door closes with a loud thud, hongjoong's scolding still travelling through it. it doesn't feel the same when he calls you that. only seonghwa can do it properly. wooyoung seems to be using it in a flirting way, yet seonghwa... he seems genuine with it. he says it so sweetly, with respect. you find yourself excited about hearing it again tomorrow. and the day after it. and the whole week like that. so far, you're having a great time. you can't wait to see what surprises this week has for you.

after many plane pictures and more scolding from hongjoong and you all the way to the destination, you're finally gathered in front of the most vibrant sea you've ever seen in your life. your body soon falls face first into the mattress, as if you haven't been sitting and sleeping for hours until now. your friend, on the other hand, already had plans to dive into the endless turquoise heaven.

"come on, now. we didn't come to sleep." she throws a pillow at you, which you don't bother to avoid. it lands on your head and stays there, making her giggle. "we have all night to do that."

"if we have all night to sleep, when are you planning to get drunk and laid?" you mumble.

at the other bungalow, park seonghwa is cussing under his breath. he shouldn't have agreed to the trip right away. he should have seen you first. then, when he realizes just how hot you are and how difficult it is to maintain his polite attitude around you, he'd decline the invitation. now, he stands in front of the mirror, scolding himself for not going to the gym when his friends would ask him. and to think you'll see him shirtless at the beach for seven days straight?

then, he realizes. he will see you too. fuck, how will he survive it? to see you in a bikini, with your skin all exposed to the sun? with water drops sliding down your sun-kissed skin? what if you had a tattoo somewhere, like right above your panties on your back?

"seonghwa, are you going?"

his head follows the voice, face blank and brain suddenly frozen. "huh?"

wooyoung snickers, grabbing the deflated beach ball they had brought. "here, make yourself useful until you are capable of leaving this place in a normal shape."

he throws the plastic smelling item at seonghwa, who is now as red as the cocktail wooyoung is already slowly sipping. "it's not what you think-"

"we'll be outside, having fun. without you. bye!"

and just like that, park seonghwa is left alone in his shared bungalow, with a flat beach ball in his hands and a painful erection in his pants. maybe, just maybe, he could skip today.

his plan goes well, and he spends his free time collecting all the discarded sweaty clothes from the flight. carelessly thrown items around the place are now neatly organized on the dresser. he is now wearing a tank top, the one which makes his body look bigger and more formed. just in case he bumps into you. which he hopes he won't. not yet, at least.

he manages to clean the mess in the other bungalows, then proceeds to the last one: his sister and yours. he wonders how bad he would get scolded if he did a little cleaning inside. after all, his sister is a bigger mess than him. he stares at the opened suitcase, disapprovingly scanning the balled up clothes his sister had 'packed'. then, he sees yours. it is perfectly packed, corners neatly tucked so that you don't have to iron and creases won't form on the delicate materials. your side of the space is a drastic difference from his sister's, and it looks like something out of a cartoon.

voices travel to his ears, mingi's dominating. he goes deeper into the room, until he is standing at the other exit looking at the sea, with the net hanging above it. he has seen the view countless times on those influencer instagram accounts and pinterest, but witnessing it all first-hand is truly a breathtaking experience. no signs of sharks yet, though. luckily for him.

but the unlucky part is still here for seonghwa. he catches a glimpse of you in the deep water, your figure swallowed by the vibrant liquid, hiding your form from him. his eyes feel blurry, sudden heat spreading in his body. he's wondering what kind of swimwear you are wearing.

was it a one-piece? the one with the covered front but exposed back? the one exposed on both sides? the one with a deep cut? or the one with a regular cut but high leg? maybe it was a two-piece. maybe it was pastel, it would suit you. you seem like the type of girl to like soft themed things. or maybe you're like that just on the surface. maybe you liked fierce things, like a g-string and triangle top which barely covers your tits. or those panties that are tied up on the sides, and come off with just a pull of a single string.

he feels his swim shorts getting tight again. he looks down, hopeless. this whole trip is going to end him. the man turns around, trying to clear his head. but how is it possible, when he is standing in the middle of your belongings and he can clearly hear your laughter from outside? his eyes fall on your suitcase, again admiring your folding skills. he might have to take a few classes from you.

then, he spots the bikini section in the corner. his eyebrows raise in surprise at the amount you had packed. his fingers reach for the one on top, carefully pulling it out without disrupting the organisation of other items. a brasilian cut hangs from his finger in all its glory, the vibrant green taking all his focus. he spreads it, and exhales once he realizes how high it has to sit on your hips. the matching white top is indeed triangles, with extra long strings. will you wrap them all around your waist like he saw on instagram? or maybe you have your own creative ideas and you'll surprise him?

"seonghwa?"

caught red handed, he stands like a deer on a highway. he feels his knees go weak, barely holding his body up. he stuffs the panties in his pocket, and immediately curses himself. he couldn't have thrown them into the suitcase?

"seonghwa?" you call again, voice dripping honey as you say his name he suddenly loves.

"yes?" he says, voice raspy and tone uneven. he clears his throat, and runs his fingers through his hair. he tries to collect himself before you can see him this messy and flustered. but his cheeks become an even deeper crimson when you step into the room, colour almost matching your swimwear. he has to grit his teeth to keep his jaw from falling. but his eyes betray him. they shamelessly roam your body, taking in everything you are serving him. you're wearing a one-piece today, cuts sitting high up on your legs, and a deep cut going down to your belly button. your hair is falling over your tits, denying him a chance to be a complete creep right in front of you.

"you're missing all the fun." you pout, eyes big as you look up at him.

it takes every ounce in his body to not slam you right there and worship every inch of your body, from the food belly bump to the stretch marks decorated with water drops. he wished to hold your waist, to feel the wet fabric which stayed tight against your skin. he is breathless in front of you, and you haven't done anything but exist.

"seonghwa?" you say once again, calling him out of his fantasies.

"yes, noona?" he breathes out, hoping your eyes stay locked with his until the situation in his pants calms down.

"aren't you going to join us?"

no, i'd rather stay and stroke myself to death thinking about you.

"not today, sorry. i'm not feeling well."

he tries to leave the room, but your fingers press into his chest, pushing him back in front of you. just when he thinks you have discovered his plans and his little crime, he is confused once again. you press your palm on his forehead, then his cheeks. your brows furrow, and he subconsciously mimics your expression.

"well, you are hot. and not the it's summer kinda hot. maybe you should really stay." you say, disappointment evident in your voice.

the last thing he wanted to do is let down the person who made this whole trip and his erection happen. he closes his eyes for a moment, clearing his head as much as he can. "i'll come."

the smile you give him is enough to make him do whatever you want. you have him wrapped around your finger, and you don't even know it.

he spends the day laying in the sun, occasionally napping and waking up when cold water drops hit his hot skin and he feels a figure blocking the sun.

"you're ruining my vibes, san."

"oh, sorry, mr i'm horny for my sister's best friend."

seonghwa's eyes shoot open, and he sits up immediately. san giggles, searching his backpack near seonghwa's head. the man smacks his friend behind the head, resulting in a glare from him.

"stop saying dumb shit, you'll get me in trouble for nothing." he scolds.

san raises an eyebrow, eyes dropping to the man's crotch. seonghwa covers it with a t-shirt, cheeks burning from embarrassment once again.

"wouldn't call that thing a nothing. if anything, it's truly a something."

"you fucking weirdo, get out." seonghwa growls, head falling back on the beach towel. "as if i have any chance with her anyway."

little did he know, you had trouble keeping up the conversation with your friend. the way park seonghwa took off his tank top so sensually, exposing his defined figure so you can drool over it, had you pressing your thighs together underwater. you watch as he smacks his friend for something he has said, then briefly lock eyes with him. his gaze goes from sharp to soft so quickly, and you wonder if he is aware of how much impact his eyes have. awkwardly, you wave towards him, inviting him into the water. you're not sure if he has gotten the message, since he doesn't move from the beach towel. just when you start to shift your attention to the conversation going on near you, you see him stand up.

he steps into the water, shivering at the coldness. as hot as it was, he still felt uneasy entering it.

"ah, seonghwa decided to show up." wooyoung grins, throwing the ball his way.

you hear him cuss when water splashes him from the ball, and your thighs press again when he picks it up, an annoyed look on his face. the serious gaze has your stomach doing back flips, and by now you're sure that you're wet. all for your best friend's brother. you struggle to stop staring, hell, almost drooling, but when he glances at you one more time, you're almost sure that a smirk was on his lips. he then dives into the water, his figure disappearing completely for a few moments. you begin to worry, and you start to swim forwards in hopes you'll catch a glimpse of him somewhere. and then, you gasp.

park seonghwa resurfaces right in front of you, face to face. your jaw drops subconsciously, and if you weren't in deep water, you'd probably search for a place to sit. the young man opens his eyes, ignoring the burning from the salty water. maintaining eye-contact with you, he runs his fingers through his hair, slicking it back so that it doesn't bother him. you watch in awe as water drops glide down his golden cheekbones and lips, toned chest and arms, and you have to fight every urge in your body to not lean in and kiss him right there.

"hi, noona." his lips curve in a sweet smile, the one that has your heart beating a little too fast for two days now.

"seonghwa," you choke out, the poorest greeting that has ever come out of you.

"let's join them, shall we?"

you feel a light touch on the small of your back, and that's when you decide it's enough for today. it's only day one, and if you decide to ruin a vacation or a friendship, you'll do it on the last day. until then, you have to gain control over your body again.

"actually, i'm feeling a bit tired. "

a slight frown appears on seonghwa's face, almost barely noticeable. he pulls his hand back, and you want to whine at the loss of contact. it was only a second, yet you crave his whole existence. you want to feel him all over you, his warmth, his scent, the refreshing water beads and his firm hands on your waist as he fucks you into the hanging net, looking at the sunset over your shoulder. images form in your brain, one, two, three, four. then suddenly, a whole scenario. park seonghwa having you in the water. park seonghwa consuming you in your bungalow as you hide from his sister. park seonghwa making love to you in the moonlight in the shallow water. you breathe out, feeling your chest getting heavy with each thought that rushes through your brain.

"i'll see you at dinner tonight." you wave at the group, then swim past the man that squeezes the filthiest thoughts out of your brain without him even knowing.

you drop down on your bed, sprawled out like a starfish. you stare at the wooden ceiling, trying to collect your thoughts. but how can you, when he looks so goddamn good in those beach shorts and his hair slicked back, with a few strands falling over his eyes? it's been long since you craved someone's touch. fuck, you don't think you've ever craved someone this much. you don't remember wishing for anyone to fuck you in any place you can think of.

meanwhile, seonghwa is busy hiding his frown from the group. you dragged him outside, just for you to run back inside. he'd be lying if he said he wasn't staring at your ass up until the moment you disappeared inside the bungalow. he stays away from his sister, afraid that she might somehow hear his thoughts and become angry. she cannot know about his feelings. nobody can. well, nobody else. his friends weren't blind, but they aren't the ones to rat out a person. it is a chance for seonghwa to stop on time and save his bond with his sister. he can't even begin to imagine the disaster that would happen if she ever knew. besides, you don't look at him that way. for god's sake, he used to fight you all the time as a kid, purposefully sneezing into your face just to see you freak out. he giggles with himself, remembering your angry and crying face while running to tell his mother.

"don't you think you should get out of the water?" the female voice interrupts his thoughts, and he looks at the group that has formed a circle and is playing with the beachball.

"no, why?" san ignores, throwing the ball seonghwa's way.

"everybody's lips are practically green. let me see your fingers. i bet they're pruney as fuck."

a round of protesting and finger examining later, the woman is forcing everybody but seonghwa out of the water. as she swims past him, she makes sure to ruffle his hair, giggling at the result.

"you can stay, but don't make it too long. i don't want you catching a cold on day one. and ruin my vibes."

"don't worry," seonghwa smiles, assuring her that he will obey.

he feels his muscles tighten, a familiar sweet pain forming and telling him that tomorrow will be hell for his body. he hasn't been active for a while, and a little swimming won't kill him. just make him unable to move. and so seonghwa swims, to the boats, to the shore, and towards the bungalows. he lays on his back, absorbing the sun rays and letting his brain roam. they go back to you every time, and it's starting to annoy him. why can't he accept that he can't have you? he must be just way too worked up. surely, he'd fuck anyone if given the chance. he can't possibly have these thoughts only about you. you're his sister's best friend, for fuck's sake. and, you're older than him, which makes it impossible in his head. how could he possibly please you, when he had the least experience in the group? he has only ever done sexual things with his first girlfriend, and since the breakup, he hasn't had any encounters with anyone else. what could he know about pleasing you? maybe you liked it rough? he only knew slow and romantic. though, he is willing to try, for you. did you like it messy and sloppy? or clean and organised? maybe you liked foreplay more.

"seonghwa!"

he opens his eyes, looking the way the voice is travelling. hongjoong is calling him, and just like that, he has to put his brain on hold. he cannot think about you. he mustn't.

"be right there!"

dinner came and went, with the young men ordering simple for day one and eating in the bungalows. you, on the other hand, have ordered the most complicated meal you could, and were now humming with each bite.

"this is better than dick." the woman next to you speaks, mimicking your reactions when eating.

"depends, whose."

"let's say, like, jeffrey dean morgan's."

your jaw drops, offended, "how dare you?"

"fine. mads mikkelsen?"

you nod approvingly. she's not right either way, but how could you possibly know? you haven't tried neither of the two. sadly.

"i need to talk to you." the tone is suddenly low, and the atmosphere is no longer relaxed.

you can feel the tension in the air. she leaves the plate, then turns to sit across from you so she can look at you while speaking.

"yes?" you ask, mimicking her actions.

"seonghwa."

fuck, did she realise what was going on with you? was she going to tell you to stay away from him? was she going to threaten you?

"what about him?" you act stupid, innocently looking into your friend's eyes while the most sinful thoughts roam your head.

"he's a little, like, awkward and antisocial. he gets nervous around pretty girls, and, well, you're one hell of a pretty woman. maybe you could strike up a conversation with him? just to let him know that you're a normal person and he can behave normally around you. without all formal labeling and all that crazy shit he has been doing since he saw you. i mean, noona? seriously?"

that you did not expect. her to encourage you to talk to park seonghwa. you hold back a smile. being too enthusiastic won't look good, and will only make her more suspicious.

"i'll try, sure. but i won't force him into anything."

and you meant it. you won't force him into anything, if you decide to make a move at all. any sign of discomfort, you'll back away. you don't need that. and neither does he.

it isn't long until you have to wake up early, get ready and follow your friend. her part of the vacation was to take canoes and swim towards a little nearby island a few minutes away. good booze and hot guys, she said. so you go, all dolled up in your black bikini that ties up around your waist, and a black lace kimono draped over your shoulders. the young men trail behind you, and you can't help but imagine seonghwa sneakily glancing at your figure. doesn't hurt anyone to daydream.

"here we are. five teeny weeny canoes, two people per one." the woman points towards the famous clear canoes, the ones that allow you to see what you're rowing over. "mingi, come on."

"me?" the man stutters, but doesn't question it any longer when she grabs his wrist and pulls him in the water.

they all hop inside, leaving seonghwa and you still in the sand. the water splashes your legs, refreshing waterbeads inviting, along with the scorching sun. it finally smells like proper summer.

"noona, i think i'm feeling unwell again." he tries, already turning around.

without thinking, you grab his arm, your nails subconsciously digging into his sun kissed skin. he turns around, eyes wide. like a deer on a highway looking at the car in front of it, he stands and waits for something to happen.

"you're not going anywhere. come on, now. hop inside."

seonghwa gulps, his skin burning where your fingers touch him. the sight of your bright summer nails digging into his skin awoke a volcano inside of him, lust spreading in his body slowly and burning, like magma waiting to erupt. you put so little effort, yet you had him harder than he has ever been. he wonders if you'd dig your nails like that when he eats you out. seonghwa is weak just thinking about it; you sprawled out just for him to feast on. his cheeks are already flushed, and he begs heavens to help him erase those thoughts. but how can he get rid of them, when you stand there in front of him, in all your glory? he watches you climb into the little boat, and he has no other choice but to join you. he sits behind you, letting you take control of the rowing and only holding his paddles.

"so, tell me what you've been up to all these years I haven't seen you."

"well, I haven't been up to much. lots of studying, a little less absences, almost perfect grades. it's going fine."

he hears you hum, and he wonders what else you will question him. whatever it is, he must impress you.

"no girls?"

so much for impressing you.

"no," he mumbles, shyly dropping his head, "i'm not that desired."

his breath hitches when you throw your head back so you can look at him, position somehow a huge turn on. "not that desired?"

"y-yeah, I mean," he scratches his neck, avoiding eyecontact, "none of them ever showed interest. I had, like, one girlfriend, and that went horribly."

you hum again, then get back to rowing and following the rest of the group. he now follows your movements, silently moving in sync and definitely not looking at your ass.

"why? if I may know." you push, desperate to know how no girl could want someone like him.

"I guess I'm just a pretty face. she wasn't satisfied with, well, anything. not with the way I communicated, not with the way I ate, sat, studied, even breathed."

he opens up like a book in your hands, ranting about all the times she was angry with him for the most ridiculous reasons, and was at one point just searching for ways to make him leave her so she wouldn't feel guilty. so that's what seonghwa did, with his heart shattered by his first love, who he thought would be his last too. he was the bad guy, yet he didn't do anything wrong.

"oh, can she complain. is there anything that didn't bother her?"

instantly, seonghwa's cheeks go red, and he stutters. you stop rowing, turning your head to look at him over your shoulder.

"seonghwa?"

"well, she always said I, uh," he stops, thinking about whether to tell you, "it's stupid."

you scoff, not believing anything he has to say is stupid. with great difficulties and lots of slipping, you try to turn around towards him, so you can look at him while you talk. your eyes widen with horror when your leg slips on the wet inside of the canoe, hands desperately reaching out for anything for support. you weren't ready for a swim yet.

just in time, the young man reaches forwards, firmly planting his hands on your waist and stabilising your figure. his cheeks are a deep crimson, eyes wide with realisation at the way he's touching you. you don't move, suddenly too aware of your surroundings and the man in front of you.

"she said I had skilled hands," he whispers, subconsciously rubbing his thumb against your skin.

it pains you that you can't just lean in and kiss him right there. if only it were that simple.

"like- like massages, right?" you offer him a way out, gently removing his hands. "and, well, catching things."

"yeah," he laughs, awkwardly looking at the water surrounding you.

"in that case, I could use that little skill of yours."

seonghwa goes red again, and you fight the urge to laugh. he is crumbling in front of you, so small and gentle despite his figure being much bigger than yours. you don't remember ever having this feeling of the upper hand. it is new, and it's setting your whole body on fire. your fingers yearn to move that strand of hair that has fallen over his pretty eyes.

"I could use a massage."

and with a wink, you start rowing again, this time staying in the other position and facing him.

the day is loud and quick. wooyoung is tipsy, hongjoong has embarrassed himself three times already, and san is almost desperate for the waitress that had the thinnest waist you've ever seen in your life. right away, your appetite is gone. your gaze drops down to your body, suddenly feeling heavy and stuffed. everyone is already at their second plate from the buffet, and you're still playing with the one from an hour ago.

"noona?" 

when you don't respond, because you know just what they will tell you, you feel a soft touch under the table on your ankle. you raise your head, ready to scold wooyoung for inappropriate touching. but then you see seonghwa's worried gaze, eyes big and shiny as he looks at you, then your plate. nobody else is paying attention, half of them having stood up to do karaoke and make complete fools out of themselves.

"is it not tasty? do you want to exchange plates?"

you look at his plate filled with fruit, and it looks much more acceptable than your grease filled plate. just what were you thinking?

"I'll just try something..." you reach towards it, stabbing into a mango,"...if i may?"

he smiles, his eyes somehow prettier when he does so. you are mesmerized, and you feel like you've been staring at him for hours. you wouldn't mind doing so, when he is a walking sculpture.

"of course you may, noona. that is why i offered."

"you know, you don't have to call me noona. you can call me by my name."

"i'm not sure i can do that."

"sure you can. try it."

he stuffs his mouth with fruit, pointing towards it as an excuse for not speaking. you laugh, watching him cutely chew and wiggle his legs under the table in the process.

"cute," you say, getting up to empty your plate.

you don't miss the way he stops eating for a while, ears and cheeks a matching red with the strawberries on his plate.

it is past midnight when you hear water splashing, and taking the nosiness from your parents, you have to get up and see what is going on. you stand at the edge of the opened glass doors, scanning the night view. the sky is clear, and no light pollution allows you to see millions of shiny dots sprinkled on it. one particular shiny dot reminds you of the way his eyes sparkle, and you catch yourself just in time before diving further into the thoughts. you've spent too much time thinking of him, and it's not doing any good to you. not when everything is starting to remind you of him.

your gaze drops on the figure in the water, and you curse under your breath. still, it's a hot night, and a perfect opportunity for you to relax without the group swarming around you like usual. it doesn't take long to change into a bikini, careful not to wake up your sleeping roommate. but even if she knew, she was the one who asked you to talk to him. so that's what you'll do. talk.

you sit in shallow water, and watch the moonlight caress his skin. he swims, back and forth, disappears under the water once in a while. then, when he comes back to the surface, he throws his head back, runs his fingers through his hair and rubs his eyes from ocean salt. whatever is clouding his mind, he could really use a conversation.

just when you want to step into the water and join him, he turns his head, eyes locking with yours. he dives in again, this time staying there longer. but after yesterday, you trust him. he doesn't need you panicking when he was simply searching for a calm swim.

even though he did it once already, when he resurfaces right in front of you, repeating the hair motion you so intensely watched, not once breaking eye-contact, you can't help but shamelessly stare.

"seonghwa," you greet, lips curving upwards and mimicking his smile.

"noona," he says, not moving a muscle.

his hands are firmly pressed in the sand, holding his body so that he is hovering in the water. you have your knees pressed to your chest, the beach lace cardigan loosely hanging off your shoulders.

"what's on your mind?" you ask.

your chin rests on your knees, hands hugging your legs as you examine his facial expressions. the young man sighs, and the smile fades away. he drops his head, thinking of ways to lie to your face.

"seonghwa," you call.

when he doesn't respond, you place your hand under his chin, gently lifting it so that he can look at you. he is surprised at the sudden contact, not hiding it in the slightest. big irises match the starry sky, an endless sparkle and mystery.

"talk to me, love."

and just how was he supposed to tell you he went for a cold swim to calm his erection? it has been difficult for two days now, and he can't take care of himself. not with so many people around him. not with you right near him.

"is it the girls talk?"

"no, no, of course not." he quickly denies, trying to move away from you.

"stay there," you ask, your other hand firmly placed on his bare shoulder. "i quite like this position."

you indeed like it; him laying in front of you, looking at you from below, and you having him right there in your hand, completely vulnerable.

"now, tell me. is it the girls talk on the canoe?"

"maybe."

"maybe?" you raise an eyebrow, thumb subconsciously rubbing his jawline.

"i don't know how to please a girl," he blurts out. "i guess my hopes were too high for this trip."

"don't be silly, sure you do."

he snorts, tearing his gaze away. "you wouldn't understand."

"why is that?"

"you're telling me that a girl would enjoy an inexperienced man? imagine me taking one home, just for her to find out i can't even put it in."

you bite the inside of your cheek. you think, for what seems like an hour. he lays there, water caressing his bare torso, eyes looking up at you for further comfort. you cup his cheeks, your brain coming to a stop and letting your heart gain control.

"noona?" he stutters, eyes dropping down on your lips.

"there's more to it than just putting it in, seonghwa."

he is a blabbering mess, defending himself and saying that he knows, it was just a saying. you let him speak, watching his plump lips move as he struggles to put a sentence together. your intense gaze isn't helping his messy state at all, and he decides to simply give up. he drops his head again, a sigh escaping his lips.

"tell me, would you waste your time with someone who can't even kiss?"

"if i'm a little fond of that person, yes."

he looks up at you, expression unreadable. his silence gives you encouragement, and you lean back and slowly peel your legs open. you feel feverish, watching his parted lips and gaze fixed on your body. the night is calm, water climbing up and down the shore, caressing seonghwa's toned back. you would be lying if you said that the simple touch on his shoulder didn't make you all worked up. he was warm, firm, inviting to bite and scratch. his eyes follow up your body, and stop at your bikini top. the lace slides down your arms, pooling in the sand and giving him a free view.

"come closer," you whisper.

when he fails to move, your hand raises his head once again so he can look into your eyes.

"you need to touch,"

your hand grabs his wrist, pulling it out of the water and placing it on your hip.

"you need to get close,"

you tug at his bicep, inviting him out of the water and closer to you.

"you need to feel,"

you drag his hand up your leg, over the edge of your briefs, and place it on your side. he comes out of the water, hovering over you and holding his body up with his free hand. slowly, you lay back into the sand, giving him space so he can comfortably lay over you.

"you need to want it."

"i want it," he whispers into your lips, holding himself back.

"then come and get it."

a groan leaves his mouth, and he is eager to grab your waist with both of his hands. his wet skin against your dry one makes you shiver, cold water drops rolling from his body onto yours. his plush lips press into yours, gently taking in your bottom lip and giving it a soft caress with his tongue. he repeats it, giving sweet kisses and equal attention to both lips. his fingers dig into your waist, the nervous feeling spreading over his body and making it painfully obvious. you place your arms around his neck, fingers creeping into his wet hair and giving his scalp a gentle scratch. you swipe your tongue over his bottom lip, tasting salty water. he pulls away, face flushed and lips plump.

"feel me up, seonghwa," you drag the tips of your fingers and nails down his arms, down to his lower back, and back up to his shoulders, "like this."

he shivers at the sensation, and without a single further touch yet, he is already growing hard thinking of ways he could feel you.

"don't think too much."

peeling himself off of you, he kneels between your spread legs. your eyes close, you know you can trust him. a sigh of sensation leaves your lips, feeling his hands almost hovering over your sides, stomach, and down your legs. he makes his way back up, feeling every inch you had to offer him.

"want to add another pair of panties to your little collection?" you tease, a smirk dancing on your lips.

"w-what?" he stutters, his hands stopping at your hips.

"you think i wouldn't notice i'm missing one of my favorite panties?"

you hear no response. you eyes peel open, lazily looking into his scared ones. it is so adorable how new he is to all of this, and so hot that you get to teach him about it. you have him on his knees, quite literally, and it feels like you've been given a puppy for training. and you just can't wait.

"you can keep them, don't worry. i'll get rid of these too." you raise an eyebrow, and place his hand on the waistband. "soon, i hope."

he doesn't move. his cheeks are flaming, and the tips of his ears even worse. he looks lost. a whole feast in front of him, and yet he doesn't know where or when to start.

"there are too many clothes in the way, don't you think?" you help him out, reaching behind to pull at the string that is holding your bikini top.

you drag his hand up your body, resting it on the crease between your breasts. he gulps, loud. it makes you chuckle, and makes him look away.

"seonghwa," you call.

"yes?"

"you don't want it." 

"i do—"

not so gently anymore, you grab his jaw, tilting his head back towards you and pulling him close. he shivers at your nails digging into his cheeks, and to say that he wasn't drowning in lust from your stern look and tone would be the lie of the century.

"then fucking take it."

his hands cup your breasts, exploring the softness and size of them. he massages them, watching your face and searching for a sign that he is doing it right. but you only lay down, eyes closed, not a single sound leaving your pretty lips.

he pulls at the bikini triangles, exposing your chest to the warm night and himself. he cups them again, this time thumbs rolling your nipples. you merely hum, and look at him through half closed eyelids. he has gotten closer, eyes examining your sensitive buds and the way his fingers played with them.

"tongue, baby," you say, holding back moans. "nipples are sometimes more sensitive than the clit, and you have to— oh, yes, just like that."

seonghwa is good at listening, that you are familiar with. he drags his wet muscle over your tense bud, then again, and again. he takes care of you with soft kitten licks, occasionally taking the bud between his lips and gently sucking.

"look at me."

his eyes lock with yours, hazy with lust. you watch as he rolls your nipples between his lips and fingers, sending gentle waves of pleasure through your body. he moves to the other one, giving it equal attention. your hips subconsciously buck into his knee, searching for friction. he pulls away, letting his fingers work. he slowly touches you, teases your sensitive area as slow as he can. he enjoys taking it slow, that you've noticed. you wish you could orgasm from just nipple teasing, but it isn't that easy.

"am i doing it right?" he asks, massaging you as he pinches your buds with his fingers.

"of course, baby."

"i'm not getting any reactions from you," he frowns, hands dropping back on your waist.

"well, we have just started. you need to work me up, give me a little attention before the real thing."

"real thing?" he stutters. "we are having sex tonight?"

"not tonight." you assure him, and almost laugh when you see him sigh with relief. "keep going."

he follows your instructions, dragging his hands to your waist and hooking his fingers into the waistband.

"you have to feel first."

he stops to do exactly what you have told him. his fingers dip between your legs, and press into your warm crotch. due to the thin material, he can feel your bottom lips through the panties. it makes him bite his lip to keep him from groaning. he slides his fingers up and down, hoping to get a noise or two from you. when he doesn't, he lowers his body so that he is hovering over your crotch. he moves the panties aside, immediately tasting you and catching you off guard. your hand reaches towards his hair, fingers grabbing at the strands as he rolled your bud between his lips. his tongue teases the tip of the clit, spinning it in circles and making your hips buck into his lips.

"press a little harder, baby," you encourage, pushing his head into your skin.

when he delivers a particularly strong lick, followed by a suck, you moan. your thighs close around his face, and when his arms grab them and force you to spread your legs for him, you lose it. you are a moaning mess, his dominant side coming out of him without him even noticing. you want him to be rough with you, to snap his hips into yours hard, to mercilessly overstimulate you, to kiss you while he stuffs you with his cock.

something about watching him give your clit slow kitten licks is throwing you into a whole different world. he has his hand placed on your lower stomach, tugging at the skin so that he can reach your clit better. placing his fingers on your soaking folds, he looks up at you, finally satisfied with the results.

he rubs you in circles, slow, then fast, then licks you a few more times. he tugs your clit between his lips, tongue swirling around it and fingers spreading your folds as he does so. nobody has ever eaten you out with such passion, and seeing him make out with your bottom lips only makes you want to take him into your mouth until he is begging you to stop.

your orgasm announces its arrival, pooling at the bottom of your stomach and waiting to erupt.

"seonghwa," you gasp.

he hums, eyes still locked with yours. you yank at his hair, trying to pull his head away from you before you can cum on his tongue. but he is much stronger than you, and much more stubborn than you. another gasp leaves your mouth, and your arms find themselves planted in the sand, your wrists firmly trapped in his hands. your legs are clenching around his head, and after a few minutes of making it difficult for him, he presses his knee against your thigh. you are trapped under his firm grip, your most sensitive spots completely at the mercy of his soft lips and hot tongue.

"seonghwa—" you choke out, orgasm swallowing your body and lifting it up from the sand.

you shake in his hands, body working on the waves of pleasure ripping through your figure and blinding your vision. you don't even notice that your hands are now free, and his are pressed on your thighs again. he is doing his best to help you ride it out, generously giving your folds soft kisses and an occasional graze with his tongue. he admires your face from below, taking in every reaction you have to offer him. your body shakes in his hands, aftershocks of pleasure still very much active. your shallow breathing and quiet gasps fill his ears, and his brain makes sure to remember this picture of you forever.

he doesn't know whether you're faking it or he really did it, but he knows for sure that the way your wet hole clenches around nothing is making his cock twitch in his pants. he isn't far from cumming; one stroke from you and he would be done. and humiliated.

you look down, finally capable of forming a sentence other than "fuck" and "oh shit". seonghwa plants a final kiss on your lower stomach, then proceeds to press his body above you one more time.

"did i do good?" he asks, worry taking over his features.

"no."

his eyes widen, and his cheeks become a deep crimson which you can see even in the dark. something snaps inside of you, seeing his vulnerable and innocent state. originally, you wanted to tell him that he did better than good. but to have the upper hand and break him little by little, until he snaps and takes you from behind and fills you up with his seed? sounds way more inviting. how mean.

"it was okay," you caress his cheek, eyes roaming his pretty face, "but a woman needs more than just an orgasm."

"i rushed." he realizes.

"you rushed." you confirm, then push him off of you.

he almost whines at the loss of contact, but he has embarrassed himself enough for one night. he was so eager to make you moan and cum on his tongue, that he didn't think further. what if he has blown the single chance he had to impress you? what if you had hopes for him, but he let you down, and now you don't wish to try anything with him anymore?

the words are stuck in his throat, refusing to leave. he wants to say so much, but afraid that he might ruin this little dignity he has, he settles for watching you stand up and get dressed. the lace cardigan slides on your body just right, hiding your curves and only exposing your chest. he wonders how you can just stand up and move on, like you didn't shake in his hands just minutes ago.

"was this just a lesson for me?" his voice almost cracks behind you. "like, a one time thing?"

when you only spare him a glance over your shoulder, then start walking back to the bungalows, he falls into the sand. he spreads his arms and legs, imitating a starfish, and helplessly looks at the night sky. one chance, and he blew it. it isn't his fault you caught him off guard. he wasn't ready. he swears he could do so much more, if only you would've let him one more time. he curses himself for being impatient, and more stubborn than obedient. though, he is always obedient when it comes to you, his stubborn side had to find a way to make an appearance tonight.

his head falls to the side, eyes following your figure as you walk away from the shore. he is tired, from thinking more than swimming or, well, pleasuring you. though the latter didn't take long.

"fucking idiot."

another day passes, spent in the town center exploring street food and sweets. you buy souvenirs, all sorts of them. even the overpriced little magnets. you must have them all. the boys are filming everything, from the making of the ice cones to your face devouring it. you ride rented motorcycles, wooyoung holding onto your waist and screaming into your ear whenever you speed up. your friend catches up soon, holding onto her brother whose gaze only focused on the road in front of him.

the rest trail behind, ice cones in their mouth and tongues stuck out proud and green from the kiwi flavor. the whole time you've spent together, seonghwa stays aside, avoiding you at all costs. it is only when they go separate ways that he spares you a glance, much like you did to him last night. only his eyes are big and yearning, but yours were cold and uninviting.

you bite your cheek, watching as he licks the ice cone the boys have gotten for him. he isn't aware of his sensual way of eating it, and you hope his sister isn't aware of you staring at it.

you shop until you collapse, your bed suddenly the most comfortable place on Earth. you aren't sure how you'll fit all the items in the suitcase, but you'll leave the worrying part for the last day.

you now stand in front of the mirror, putting the clip in your hair and thinking whether or not you're satisfied with your appearance. even if you weren't, there was no time to change anything. you just had to obey your impatient friend.

eager to get drunk and laid, she orders shots, finishing four by the time you've only done one. she is tipsy and leaning into you, trying to tell you something over the loud club music. you laugh, hoping that she didn't ask a question. you simply don't have the energy to figure out what she is trying to say.

the boys are scattered on the dance floor, mainly making fools out of themselves and each other, trying to get most of this vacation. girls look at them, more with interest than worry because of their behaviour. you spot four familiar heads on the dance floor, and three are sitting on the couch with the two of you. the eighth one is missing.

"where's seonghwa?" you ask, trying to look and sound as careless as possible.

"we made him go to the bar." says san.

"yeah, he seriously needs to get laid."

the boys laugh at hongjoong's words, and even your friend giggles. but you don't find anything funny in that. your eyes roam the bar, in hopes to find the fluffy wavy hair and a pair of big shiny eyes. your neck hurts, raising your head every time someone gets close to the table, in hopes that it's seonghwa. but seonghwa is nowhere to be seen. until you stand up and make your way through the dance floor towards the bar.

you spot him, leaning on the bar with a drink in his hand. the girl in front of him is twirling the ends of her hair, hips swaying with the beat. your teeth sink into your cheek, keeping yourself from acting up. then, she reaches towards his hair, feeling the softness much like you did last night.

"noona!"

the voice comes from behind you, and a pair of arms touch your sides.

"wooyoung," you greet, turning around to wrap your arms around his neck.

fuck seonghwa. he's not yours. he can talk to whoever he wants to. and you're not his. so when wooyoung presses his lips against yours, you don't complain. his lips are hot against yours, and when comparing to seonghwa, much more skilled and confident. his hand grips your waist, pressing you into his firm body as he does body rolls to the beat of the music.

"fuck, noona, you're so hot." he groans into your mouth.

"am i now?" you tease, placing your hands on his and sliding them down to your ass.

"are you kidding me? with your hair in a clip like that, and your lip gloss, and your thongs sticking out of these incredibly tight jeans? i could just—"

"wooyoung."

the grip on your ass is gone, and the heated moment between you two is shattered. your eyes stare at seonghwa's side profile, watching his jaw clench as he tells wooyoung he needs you for a minute. the younger man removes his hands from your body, and then looks at you.

you don't get to protest, your wrist already in his hand and your legs following him outside.

"hey, what the fuck? let go of me!"

and he does let go. but when he does, it is by slamming you against the wooden wall of the club.

"how can you calmly kiss my friend like that after humiliating me last night?"

you take your time to admire him properly. he is wearing one of those over worn hawaiian shirts, all buttons undone and a single necklace resting on his sun kissed neck. he smells like sun protection and aftershave, and his hair is fluffier than usual.

"do you want to break me? do you want to see me at my lowest?"

"i don't know what you're talking about, seonghwa. go back inside."

"what, does he kiss better?" he bites the inside of his cheek, and his jaw clenches a lot more than usual.

"he does have more experience." you remain calm, a monotone tone leaving your lips when you speak to him. "this is all just fun. we're doing this for fun. nothing serious involved."

"then," he reaches forwards, cupping your face," let me fuck you. for fun."

"what? no."

you push him away once again, and start walking away. he gets deja vu, but this time, he speaks up.

"why? you were just seconds away from sitting on wooyoung's cock. why is it a problem when it's me?"

you turn around, still walking backwards towards the entrance. he is almost drunk, and surely doesn't know what he is saying.

"you're just not that type."

"not that type?"

"you know. you're soft. you don't fuck. you make love."

and you can't make love right now. you want him to break you, fuck you in positions that have you helpless and gripping at his built body, to make you beg for mercy as he drives you to your fifth orgasm.

and there he is, again, standing alone, helpless and horny. his legs carry him inside again, to the bar, and back to the girl he wasn't even interested in. he leans in, mimicking wooyoung's moves he did on you. when the girl moans in his mouth, it gives him a boost of confidence. he just hopes you sit there somewhere, watching this unfold.

"fuck, wanna take this outside?" she gasps, hips rolling into his.

seonghwa doesn't need to be told twice. he is thrown on one of the beach chairs, the girl already on her knees in front of him. he breathes heavily, heart beating so hard he swears it could jump out any moment. the alcohol in his veins made it impossible for him to be uncomfortable from the company around him. they didn't even flinch. situations like these are a regular occurrence for them.

"oh, shit, you're huge."

his cheeks burn at the compliment. the first few licks make seonghwa twitch in his sleep, but by the time she has him in his mouth, he is passed out. he was at the verge when he pressed you against that wall, and if he had just drunk two shots less, he would've proved that he can do better than you think.

in the morning, he finds himself wrapped in clean white sheets. he blinks slowly, his eyes getting used to the strong light.

the surroundings are unfamiliar, and for a second, he fears that he might've slept with the girl from last night. but when he sees your almost bare figure in front of him, back turned and hair falling over your shoulders, he silently gasps. that can't be true. he didn't sleep with you. did he?

he checks under the cover, and becomes even more confused when he sees he is fully dressed.

"i didn't sleep with you, seonghwa." you answer before he manages to put a sentence together.

"she did sleep with me, however."

"wooyoung." you warn.

seonghwa sits up on the bed, and looks around the room. wooyoung is also sitting on the bed. your bed. seonghwa sighs, feeling his heart tighten. he looks at you through the mirror, where you stood to fix your bikini. you catch him staring, and your lips twitch into a smirk when seeing his flustered expression.

"headache?"

"what am i doing here if we didn't sleep together?" he asks, the alcohol in him still a little active.

"first, you were passed out with a girl all over you, so i brought you to my bed since your sister spent the night with some guy anyway. second, i would never sleep with a drunk guy. at least not that drunk."

"can't believe you fell asleep mid blow job." wooyoung teases, glancing at his older friend.

"well, if it was any good, i doubt he would've fallen asleep." you come to rescue, deciding that he has suffered enough teasing for the morning. "right?"

"right," seonghwa agrees, scratching his neck.

"luckily, that's not the case with you, noona."

"wooyoung, get out."

"of course, baby."

seonghwa is now alone with you, eyes still trailing up your body. somehow, even though his friend had you before him, he still wants you just as bad as the day before.

"he's bluffing, don't listen to him."

"is he, though?"

you sigh. you did have fun with wooyoung last night, but it didn't go to the point of having sex. even though it was very hard to keep your hands off him. he is passionate, and rough, just how you like it.

"go get dressed, seonghwa. we are leaving soon."

"why won't you fool around with me, just like you did with him?"

his words make you sigh again. you leave your lip-gloss on the dresser, then sit on the bed.

"you don't ask. you just start it, then see where it gets you. i gave you the green light for that. but i told you last night, and i'll tell you again. i realize you're just not the type. you're too soft for me."

"then teach me."

at this point, he has no regrets and refuses to be embarrassed. he wants wooyoung's confidence, his passion for sexual activities, and his charm. all he has is a figure, which is not enough to satisfy you.

"teach you?"

"yes."

"you're out of your mind, seonghwa."

you have him right where you wanted him. right in your hand, like a marionette. you decide his moves, and he obeys, like the cute little doll he is.

"noona," he whispers, desperation dripping from his lips like sweetest honey, "please."

your fingers reach towards the loose strands of hair falling over his glossy eyes. neatly tucking them behind his ear, you bring his face close to yours.

"this time," your lips brush against his as you speak, "listen to what i say. if i say stop, you stop. got it?"

"got it." he nods.

"good."

as slow and soft as possible, you press your lips into his. he exhales, relaxing further into your hands. you are one step away from pushing him back on the bed, and all it takes is just a touch from him. ironically, as if he hears you, he rests his hands on your waist, and you don't resist anymore. you push him on the mattress, laying flat against his warm body.

"your boobs are soft." he comments, noticing the way they are pressed against his chest.

"aw, thanks, bub."

so easy to make him blush. he kisses you this time, tongue hungrily searching for yours. he hums when you finally give in, allowing him to take in the taste of you.

"hey, anyone seen my brother? did he come back last night?"

you pull away, jumping to the other side of the room to buy yourself time to fix your hair and put on a beach kimono, back turned towards him. you glance at seonghwa over your shoulder, and it is enough to make your heart flutter. he is flustered, eyes shiny and big as he panics while his sister's voice is becoming louder and louder. his lips shine from your lip gloss, and his hair is a fluffy mess. oh, you want to have him squirming and milking in your hands.

"ah, there you are! i've- woah, what happened here?"

"not what it looks like-" seonghwa stutters, but you are quick to interrupt.

"he is feeling a bit feverish from last night. he fell asleep in sweaty clothes with the window open."

too hung over to think, she waves it off, turning towards her suitcase in a search for a bikini for today's adventure.  you hear seonghwa exhale, and you turn around to wink at him. he seems calmer, seeing how relaxed you are.

"seonghwa, now that you're feeling better, you want to go and get ready?"

"huh? oh, yes. yes, of course."

you watch him as he tries his best to hide the bulge in his pants, eyes full of panic as he walks away hoping his sister doesn't turn around.

"see you, honey."

"see you, noona."

he leaves the room, and you see him through the window picking up his pace and running into his own. you can't help the smile that creeps onto your face, watching his messy hair bounce, and his hand wipe off the lip gloss from his lips.

"what an idiot." his sister comments, sitting on the bed and carelessly taking off her top and bra.

"aw, come on. he's being such a good boy, why are you calling him that?"

"noona? seriously? he is a piece of shit to me, and he is so nice to you. that asshole."

"he's cute, let him be."

she makes a mocking face your way, then starts to get dressed.

the day is hotter than ever. you are laying in the shades of nature, yet you are sweating so bad that you might actually get into water. you don't feel like it today. you just want to lay down on the fancy beach chair, hiding under your big sun hat, and daydream. about seonghwa.

"you know, i met a guy last night, and let me tell you! his friend is drop dead gorgeous. i told him about you."

you scoff, but don't give any other reaction. you know where she is going with that.

"what? not interested?" she questions.

you laugh, taking the hat from your face and placing it properly on your head. you glance over at the boys, who sat down just beneath you on the bright shark towels. seonghwa is busy squeezing his hair, and doesn't yet realize that you are shamelessly staring at him.

"not really, no," you finally answer, tone disinterested and distant.

"wasn't your plan to have a one night stand of your lifetime on this vacation?"

that seems to pick up seonghwa's attention. he sits down, acting unbothered as he opens his bag of candied almonds. his side eye is very obvious to you though, and his cuteness only increases when you notice small things like that.

"that still stands."

"well?"

"well, i think i already have my eye on someone. someone... younger."

"oh?"

the young man turns his head slightly, just enough to look at you without his sister noticing. you wink at him, and when he blushes, you can't help but smile proudly. you've never had a man behave so giddy because of you, and you are living for it.

"who's the lucky guy?"

"i'm not too sure if he's interested in me yet."

seonghwa turns towards you in disbelief, as if trying to ask you how you could think such a thing. but seeing the playful glint in your eyes, he relaxes.

"can i have one?" you ask, pointing at the candied almonds.

"sure," he mutters, turning the bag towards you.

you wink at him again, before opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out a little. his cheeks are the usual red, eyes wide and frantically looking over at his sister and friends. but none of them really pay attention. even if they do, the sight would simply seem playful to them. after all, they do not know about your secret little interactions.

he carefully aims the single almond towards your mouth, and when you so flawlessly catch it, you could've sworn that his jaw had dropped just a little. he is feeding your ego, and he won't regret it.

"good boy," you mouth, hoping he would catch it.

he does, his eyes wide in shock. you love getting reactions from him.

time is slow, the boys having lost interest in the sea and opting to play games and bickering on the towels. the sun is still high up in the sky, not yet ready to end the day. you cannot stop ogling at seonghwa, who is currently trying to doze off but is constantly bugged by something.

"what is it, ddeong?"

ddeong? that's very cute.

"my head really hurts. i wanted to take a nap but it's pounding so bad." he complains, rubbing his temple.

"guess it's your lucky day, because my bestie here gives the best scalp massages."

oh, right. you do. that's so clever, and she doesn't even know it.

"yeah, why don't you come over and i'll show you?" you ask, as innocently as you can.

glancing over at wooyoung and seeing his smirk, you know he knows. the dipshit knows everything. but he isn't the type to rat you out. you hope.

seonghwa stands up, cluelessly looking at you and trying to figure out how to do this.

"sit down, silly." you pat the space in the sand between your legs.

he finally sits, slowly resting his back on the edge of the beach chair and closing his eyes. there, you have him right between your legs, in your hands. not the way you want, but you can still work your magic. his hair is soft between your fingers, and you swear you've never felt such hair on a man before. seonghwa is very neat, that you've noticed. not like all those men that you've dated. it feels nice to have someone so clean and pretty in your hands.

he sighs as you put pressure on his scalp, nails softly grazing him. he is having the time of his life, and you can't help but smile when he lets his head fall back, resting on the chair between your thighs. so close to your already leaking cunt. wonder if he can feel it.

"feeling better?" you ask, seeing that he isn't doing anything aside from breathing.

he doesn't answer. you continue your motions, watching his features carefully. he has the prettiest pink lips, and the most perfect eyebrows. he is just so... fresh. and young.

"seonghwa?" you call again.

no answer. you tug at a strand of hair gently, jolting him awake. what you didn't expect was the whine that escaped his lips, and you find yourself trying to squeeze your thighs together. he realizes his mistake, and looks at you with horror.

"y-yes?" he stutters.

"uh, i just-"

you are at a loss for words. he is so unintentionally submissive, it is driving you crazy. 

"i think i'll go in the water."

and just like that, he grabs a floatie you had brought and almost runs to the water. your eyes follow his poor attempts at climbing the armchair shaped floatie, his hands continuously slipping from the water and slippery surface. he tries a few more times, until he almost gets it, but ends up falling back into the water and flipping the floatie upside down.

"god, what an idiot." his sister scoffs, putting on her sunglasses and hiding under her book.

"aw, stop. i'm gonna go help him." you laugh fondly, eager to get alone time with him.

"don't waste your time. jesus, look at him. i can't take it, please poke my eyes out."

you also wish to poke your eyes out. seonghwa is surrounded by three or four girls, all of them making sure he's okay, laughing and being all touchy with him. you're not liking that. you're not liking the way their nails are grazing his arms, while he is still processing what is going on around him. he is clueless, and only awkwardly smiles with them. for a split second, his eyes land on you, as if asking for help. but then he looks away, back to the girls, and relaxes. his mouth moves, and the girls go into a laughing fit. just what is he doing? he isn't that funny.

"huh. how about that. my brother can rizz up girls?"

"no offence, but nobody uses that word anymore." wooyoung chips in, and earns himself a smack on the back of his head.

"shut up. seriously though, look at him. and four at once? wait, where are you going?"

you almost throw the hat and kimono at your friend, and fix your hair. hell no.

"hey? i thought you aren't getting into the water today! why is everyone so weird today?" her voice is becoming distant, and the ones in front of you are getting louder.

ha-ha, so funny. you are dying to know just what it is that have them drooling over him and forcing their laugh.

"hwa?" you call, lowering your sunglasses just enough so he can look into your eyes.

"uh, yes?" he answers, completely smitten.

oh, yes.

if someone were to film you, the scene would really look like one from a movie where the rich older woman is seducing her pool boy, all while her husband is working up in his bedroom. and you like it. you adjust your bikini top, accidentally pushing your boobs together, and finally get into the water.

the girls have their eyebrows raised at you, and seonghwa only gulps. it's as if he knows he did something that is bothering you. behind the playful smirk you are giving him, he sees the mischievous glint in your eyes. he knows he fucked up big time.

"having trouble with your floatie?"

"well, yeah, kinda. i got water in my ear and eyes."

"aw, you poor thing. let me see."

you cup his cheeks, swiping your thumbs over his closed eyes. the girls are scoffing, murmuring, and you would've felt very self conscious before. but this trip and seonghwa have fueled your confidence, and you are not scared of a pair of younger girls that know nothing more than to act dumb in front of him.

"feeling better?"

"yeah, real better. excellent in fact." he is a blubbering mess, looking between you and the girls.

"wanna get on the floatie with me?"

"yes."

"come on, then. say bye to your friends."

you swim off into deep water with the floatie, slow enough so he can catch up to you. you turn the floatie so that the backrest is turned towards the shore, and you are looking into the islands far away.

"go on, get on it."

"uh, i couldn't get on it in the shallow water. what makes you think-"

"seonghwa. get on the floatie."

he struggles again, wet hands slipping against the surface, now worse because you are right there, watching him. he finally climbs up, throwing his head back and exhaling.

"god, this was worse than the runs i do in the mornings back home."

he sits silent, eyes closed and sun bathing. when he hears nothing from you, he opens one eye, silently questioning why you aren't joining him. i mean, you came for that, didn't you?

"your headache still bothering you?"

"your massage helped, i did doze off for a while. until you started pulling my hair. which, by the way, what was that about?"

"it's going to sound stupid, but you seemed a bit too calm. i don't know. i fear those things."

"what, you thought i was dead?" he laughs.

"shut up, paranoia isn't that fun, you know? i'm currently in deep water, actually dying from fear that a shark will appear and feast on my legs."

"then get up here with me," he offers, patting the space next to him.

"oh, i'm fine right here." you place your hands on his knees, putting your body between his thighs.

"wh-what are you-"

"i'm gonna need you to be quiet."

"for what?"

"hush."

"noona-"

"hush i said." you pinch his thigh, earning a whimper. "now, be a good boy and hold my hair up so i don't make a mess. yet."

he looks at you wide eyed, finally realizing what your intention is. he gulps, feeling his swim shorts become tight. there's just something about your long nails grazing his skin and you giving him your best siren eyes from between his legs that is making his blood boil.

"hwa, baby, you have to stop being so stiff."

he melts in your hands at the nickname, and melts even more when you slip your hands in his shorts and gently pull him out. he is hard, and warm, and you can't wait to get your tongue on him. his hand finally reaches for your hair, pulling it in a messy ponytail and subconsciously guiding your head towards his cock.

"so impatient. again."

"sorry," he stops his movements.

you tease him, slowly running your thumb around his tip, not yet giving him the friction he needs. he squirms in your hands, unable to relax. he isn't used to risky situations like this. hell, he isn't used to a situation like this anywhere.

"hey," you call, seeing his panicked expression. when he looks at you, you can't help but smile fondly at him, and reach to move his long strands of hair out of his eyes. "i'll let you know if things get risky, like if anyone starts approaching. trust me. alright?"

"alright," he gulps.

"good."

wasting no time, you stick out your tongue, licking a stripe from the base up to his leaking tip, and pull him between your lips. his breath hitches, and his grip in your hair tightens. seonghwa throws his head back, letting his eyes roll and small sighs leave his lips.

using the chance when he's not looking, you pull your bikini top aside, letting your breasts fall free. you take his other hand, placing it gently on your now bare breast. he squeezes it subconsciously, making you hum around his cock. he tastes warm and salty, and you enjoy taking in every inch he has to give and explore it with your tongue. you just can't wait to sit on it. hopefully soon.

"i'm gonna cum- i think-"

you pull him out, making sure to make a popping noise on purpose.

"already?" you tease, still gently stroking him.

"sorry..." he looks down at you, blush creeping up his cheeks.

"it's okay, bun. just relax this time. we'll have plenty of chances to practice your patience."

"we will?" he asks, eyes full of hope as he looks into yours full of mischief.

"honestly..." you drag off, teasing him further, "...seeing you so confused and stiff, i'm starting to think you don't even want it."

"what? no! i- i do, really. you just- have me in a rather uncomfortable place."

flashing him a smile, you cup his face with your palms and bring his face close to yours. "kiss me."

"uh-"

"seonghwa."

"yes."

"kiss. me." your face morphs from the fun expression to a serious and lustful one. "now."

and like the good boy he is, he obeys. he leans in, lips softly pressing into yours. he is still stiff in your hands, and his lips are almost trembling. as much as you think it is cute, it is starting to drive you crazy. why can't he just rip your panties off and plunge his fingers inside you right there underwater?

switching the places of the impatient one, you pull him off the floatie and into the water, hands wrapping around his neck and lips desperately chasing his. he tastes like a fruit salad, which you watched him steal from yunho before they joined you in sun bathing. the fusion of watermelon, kiwi and pineapples is melting on your tongue, and you just can't help but feel up his body and grind yourself on him like an animal in heat. he isn't too different from you, hands reaching for anything he can grab; from your waist, to your neck and face. you notice that he isn't touching any areas that you really need to be touched.

you groan, pulling away from him.

"seonghwa, you're pissing me off."

"what? why?" he pulls away, but still rests his hands on your waist, afraid that you're going to run away from him if he lets go.

"it feels like i'm forcing you to do this. you don't seem to enjoy it, at all. not the way you're supposed to. if you want me to stop, you have to tell me that. you're giving me mixed signals here, all inviting and teasing from afar, and when i finally approach you, you're so stiff and nervous. like you're waiting for me to get over with it and leave."

the young man stays silent. that isn't the case. you have no idea how it is not that case at all. seonghwa is crazy about you, from your personality, to your body. you're a full package, but you are older, more experienced. and him? he's just a young man who doesn't know a thing about pleasing a woman, other than rubbing her until eventually she cums, whether it is a minute or thirty minutes later. fun, right?

"look, here's the deal. i will leave you alone, okay?" you reach to remove his long bangs out of his face, revealing his pretty eyes staring at you with mixed emotions. "if you decide to prove me wrong, don't do it with words. come search for me, show me what you want and how you want it, and we'll go from there. sounds good?"

"but i really want you, i just-"

"no more words i said, hwa. words are nothing at this point. you want me? you're gonna have to do something about it. before somebody else does. and i really need some relief these days, i might really cave into wooyoung."

god, not wooyoung. he can't lose you to wooyoung. not because he dislikes him or something, but because he dislikes the idea of seeing you with someone else. at least seeing you, well, relieved with someone else. he's not sure what view he has on you. it is clear you only want something physical, and something limited. something tied to this vacation spot and time. does he have the heart for that? he will fall for you, he knows it. if he hasn't already.

were your eyes always this pretty in the sun? was your hair always that satisfying to touch? and was your voice always this satisfying to his ears?

days pass fast when you're having fun. you're sadly looking over at the last packed bikini, bottom lip sticking out in a pout.

"oh, cheer up! your birthday is in like two hours!"

"oh, my bad. yay! i'm getting older!" you grab the bottled cocktail off the nightstand, sipping it.

"what has gotten up your asshole these days?" your friend is persistent.

"nothing, why would you think that?"

you hear a scoff, and you just have to roll your eyes. she stays silent for a few moments, looking at you through the mirror while she is getting ready for your birthday party. you had agreed on going for a group night swim after the countdown, but you are not feeling it. you always get sad on trips, knowing that they'll end soon and that you'll have to go back to your ordinary life. if only you could live here. with seonghwa.

what?

think straight. you cannot want something like that with him. he is so young, he should find someone his age. someone who doesn't make him sad, confused and stiff all the time. the opposite of you. it hurts your heart a little, but you remind yourself that this is only a crush that will fade, a summer fling that will pass. nothing to get yourself worked up for.

"you're so fucking depressed today, jesus. it's making me feel like shit too."

"i'm just a little homesick, that's all."

"lies. but okay, suit yourself."

you finally slip on the pink sequin dress you have bought specifically for this night. the faux feathers are tickling your skin, and you just can't wait to take it off. why are the prettiest things the most uncomfortable ones?

"wow, those heels make your legs look so hot! you're so bringing a guy here tonight."

with a glance at your pink glitter heels, you sigh. you want one guy. and it doesn't even have to be for the reason she thinks. you could just lay there, talk about old times and new times. with each second passing, it is becoming more difficult to keep your thoughts away from seonghwa. why is he so damn addicting?

"right, let's go."

the club is loud and busy, you have trouble finding the group. but when you do, you are glad. you are starting to feel more comfortable with them, and not being around them makes you feel a bit empty and bored. seeing them occupy the couch again puts a smile on your face, but when you notice one face missing, your face drops.

"where's seonghwa?" you ask before thinking.

"he left to get a drink, i think. strange, it's been fifteen minutes now. the bar isn't that busy."

glancing at the bar, you realize that san is telling the truth. the bar is almost empty, and seonghwa is nowhere to be seen. wooyoung takes his chance, expanding his hand for you to take. when you do, he gently pulls you so that you fall into his lap, and you can't help but laugh.

"rude."

"come on, is there a better seat here?"

you notice mingi taking secret glances at you friend, probably thinking whether or not he should make a similar move on her.

"so, want to play a classic?" yunho offers.

"games? come on, yunnie, we came to drink!"

yunho rolls his eyes at your friend, and brings the bottle of vodka to his lips. it is almost empty, and he downs it with no problem. he sets it in the middle of the table, giving it a spin. "who says there won't be drinking?"

wooyoung's hands are suddenly loose around you, and before you can look at him and ask what's wrong, a familiar figure joins the table. he looks absolutely ravishing.

his hair is a wavy mess, his linen white shirt half unbuttoned, and pants loosely hanging on his hips, exposing his v-line. fuck, you need him. you need him so bad that you almost start grinding on wooyoung for any friction.

"what are we doing?"

"playing some old truth or dare. spin?"

"sure."

he sits next to yunho, and spins the bottle. the bottom lands on san, the tip on your friend. he smirks, and you see that he is fighting the urge to look at mingi.

"truth or-"

"dare."

"ah, should've known already.  i dare you to sit on mingi's lap."

mingi blushes furiously, glaring at san. your friend only rolls her eyes, much like yunho at her, and sits on mingi. "childish ass dare. do better, i'm already bored."

"oh, we're just getting started."

the game lasts half an hour, and so far, you have: kissed yeosang's cheek, because everyone likes to see him shy, drank five consecutive shots of tequila, told them some of your kinks, and accidentally rubbed your ass on wooyoung's crotch. he snickers, hands coming to your hips to keep you steady. you are feeling tipsy, but you still know what you're doing. right now, the tip of the bottle is pointing at you, while jongho is taking his sweet time thinking of a dare to give you.

"oh, oh! i got one for you!" hongjoong exclaims.

the older man whispers something into the younger one's ear, and the smirk that appears on his face makes you a little nervous.

"well?" you ask, voice a bit shaky with a nervous smile.

"i dare you to..."

why did you choose dare? why couldn't it be truth? you wanted to be fun. there you have it.

"spit it out, jongho. she's shaking." wooyoung says, annoyed.

"i dare you to drink that cocktail and kiss seonghwa with it. you know, make him drink it from your mouth."

time seems to stop for you. your eyes widen, scanning over the group. you are ready to spill out excuses and explanations, but when you see them cheer, your eyebrows scrunch. nobody is seeing anything suspicious about this? well, nobody except three people. you glance at seonghwa, who is frozen in his seat. his whiskey glass rests in his hand halfway up to his mouth. 

he sets it back on the table, mentally preparing himself for what is about to happen. you will probably decline, say you see him as a childhood friend, and pick someone else to do it with instead. but when he sees you down the glass of piña colada and get up from your seat, he feels sweat wash over his body. you'll really do it. in front of his sister. in front of wooyoung. in front of everyone.

he thinks you look cute with your lips unintentionally pouting as you hold the liquid in your mouth. a fond smile creeps on his lips just before you sit on his lap, hands wrapping around his neck and lips finally pressing into his. he takes every single drop you give him, drinking it up along with the taste of your lips and tongue. already swaying a bit from alcohol, he forgets where he is for a moment. his tongue swipes your bottom lip, collecting the remains of the drinks and biting it along the way. you give in, tongue pushing past his lips and finding his.

"woah, woah! okay!"

"guys, that's enough."

but you don't stop. not when his hands are finally touching you how you want it. how you need it. his slender fingers find their spot in the back of your head, gently pulling your hair as he desperately kisses you. you whine in his mouth, pleasant pain spreading in your body. his other hand lands on your waist, pulling you closer into him so that you can only feel his scent and his warmth. only him in a room full of people. 

"shit, live porn. how about that?" wooyoung snickers, downing another tequila.

"alright, guys!"

seonghwa is the first one to pull away, hazy eyes staring deep into yours. it only takes one look from you to show him that you know what he wants, and that you want it too.

"damn. my brother and my best friend making out. didn't think i'd see that in... well, ever."

"why are you complaining? you're making out with your brother's best friend."

"yeah, but seonghwa doesn't mind, do you?"

seonghwa hates that he has to remove his gaze from you to look at his sister. "why? you mind me kissing your best friend?"

"no, no. not at all. carry on. SOMEWHERE ELSE! disgusting."

seonghwa helps you stand, not letting go of your waist.

"i'll be borrowing this." you reach for the bottle of champagne that was meant to be opened on your birthday countdown. but you found a better use of it. "see you!"

you rush out of the club, pulling seonghwa by his wrist all the way to the shore. you push him into the ocean, cold water caressing your bodies as you keep walking deeper until it reaches your chest. seonghwa is quick to continue the makeout session he has started, and you don't complain. his lips are starved of your touch, kissing you like it's his first and last.

"wait, wait."

"what?"

you give him the bottle, offering a sip. he takes a long one, not once breaking eye contact with you. when he hands it back to you, you can't help the mischievous grin that appears on your face. he looks at you with amused eyes. you pour the champagne on your neck and chest in a slow stream, not caring about pollution or wasting at this point. seonghwa takes the signal, and grabs your waist so that he can pull you closer. his tongue licks up the champagne from your neck, chest and collarbones. you are a moaning mess in his hands.

"if i would've known that all you needed was a few shots and a high schooler game, i would've done it the first day." you admit.

the wet dress sticks to your body, making it difficult to move in the water. you gasp when you feel his fingers dip between your thighs, resting on the pink bikini you've put on. with a silent approval from you, he moves the bottoms under your dress aside, middle finger slipping past your folds and thumb circling your clit. you shake under his touch, feelings too overwhelming.

"let me make love to you."

he says it so romantically, as if he isn't knuckles deep inside of you right now.

"let me show you a different way. my way."

and you give yourself to him. dragging him back to the shore, lips not once leaving his. not caring if anyone around you is watching. your dress comes off with a few difficulties, but now that you're out of it, you feel like you can breathe freely. your bikini top soon joins the dress in the sand next to you, but the chain, heels and panties stay. seonghwa spills more champagne over your exposed chest, and proceeds to lick it all up like a starved man.

"should i take off my-"

"no, please. i want to fuck you with your heels on."

"oh? that a fetish of yours?"

he blushes a little, looking down at the sparkly heels shining in the distant club lights.

"i like glitter." he simply says.

his fingers are in a rush to take your panties off, but before he can discard them along with the rest of his and your clothes, you speak. "a little warning."

"yes?"

"i can be loud."

"how loud?"

"very."

the young man looks around for a moment, as if thinking about something important. then, he simply shrugs. "okay."

before you can react, he shoves the panties in your mouth, catching you by surprise. he strokes himself a few times, too impatient for any foreplay. there was enough teasing all these days, he knows you can't take it either.

his warm cock slides between your folds with ease, your walls hugging it tightly. he groans, and you moan around the panties. his hands grip your waist, but not the rough grip. the strong, yet gentle grip. he moves his hips sensually, like waves rather than thrusts. he raises your hips a little, angling them so that he can reach better. your eyebrows scrunch with pleasure, eyes looking up at him as a plea for more.

"i know, i know. feels good, doesn't it?"

you nod, rolling your hips to match his rhythm. sand sticks to your skin, the smell of his perfume and champagne is making you feel dizzy, and the grip on your hips is only getting stronger. you haven't felt such pleasure in a long time.

the tip of his cock rubs the sensitive spot inside of you, making you whine and moan through the wet fabric.

"oh, you were just made for me, weren't you? look how good you're taking me. all of it."

your eyes roll at his dirty talk, and you promise yourself there that this won't be the last time you're hearing it.

"fuuuck..." he trails, plunging his hips into yours and touching your cervix along the way. he continues the hard but slow pumps, getting lost in the warm feeling of you. "fuck, you're so pretty for me. look at you, you fit in my hands like a perfect doll."

is that size kink coming from him? if yes, you are having so much fun finding out about him in a situation like this.

you whimper, feeling your orgasm approaching. he doesn't notice, instead, he is so lost in his own pleasure that he barely feels you clawing at his back as you cum hard on his cock.

"huh? what's that? you want more?"

tears drop down your cheeks, overwhelming pleasure washing over your body. you can't take it, but seonghwa doesn't ask. he only holds you in place, slowing his pace and giving you time to relax and regain composure.

but what's the use, when as soon as you calm from your high, he starts snapping his hips into yours again? you now shamelessly tug at his hair, not sure if it's from pain or pleasure. but both is good to you.

"fuck, can i cum in you?"

you nod, and if you could, you'd beg him to do so. seonghwa gets down, burying his face into the crook of your neck and shoulder, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing it in circles. you desperately groan into his ear, moving your hips with his movements. seonghwa's moves gradually become sloppy, losing the collected sensual waves and instead opting for harsh thrusts, tip of his cock touching your cervix and leaving your body shaking in his arms.

fireworks paint the sky, just like seonghwa paints your walls with his seed. your orgasm washes over you once again, and you feel yourself get slippery down there. he doesn't stop, helping both of you ride it out as fireworks keep going off above you.

seonghwa is the first to gain his consciousness, carefully removing the panties from your mouth. while you are still catching your breath, he kisses your tears away.

"hey?"

you hum, looking up at the colorful explosions.

"did i hurt you?"

"in normal circumstances, i would've said i wish. but this? you just made me never wish for rough sex again."

he only chuckles, then takes his discarded shirt from the small pile. he helps you sit up, then covers you with his shirt.

"thank you, hwa."

he puts his pants back on, sitting next to you. he grabs the bottle of leftover champagne, taking a sip before offering you one too. you take it, resting your head on his shoulder.

"happy birthday, noona."

"oh, you seriously have to stop that."

as you both laugh and stare at the reflection of the moon on the ocean surface, you can't help but feed the small hope you almost killed today. maybe seonghwa doesn't have to be a faded crush or a summer fling.

"say, when we get back, do you want to go out someti-" he starts, as if he read your thoughts.

"yes." you interrupt, planting a kiss on his cheek.

🐬feedback greatly appreciated! 💙

[swallowtail-lotus]

Special Treat {Buddha x reader} (NSFW)

Repost

Warning/s: Spicy, Oral (Female Receiving), overstimulation???

Before y'all comment, the reader consented before this happens!!

________

Your hands firmly gripped the sheets, your head hanging back from the pleasure applied to your entrance. Your eyes were filled with tears, slowly falling down from your face. A sudden shock made you jump a bit. A shaky gasp slipped past your lips. Buddha's grip on your thighs tightened, his tongue slowly lapping at your folds in a torturous matter.

Your eyes nearly rolled back when the tip of his tongue poked your entrance. You moved your hips slowly, your legs shaking from both the pain and pleasure.

"It's been over an hour, and he's still doing this! Will he ever get tired of this?!" You thought, snapping into reality when you felt a pair of fangs scrape your folds gently.

"Sorry. Couldn't resist." Your boyfriend said, licking his lips. He traced his tongue along your thighs, nibbling down on the soft flesh and leaving visible marks. You felt his tongue slide against your thighs, moving towards your entrance but only stopped when he just reached your folds. You hissed through your teeth from your neglected bud.

"B-Bastard!" You hissed, letting out a loud groan when his tongue flicked the bud gently.

"Lady (Y/n)? Are you alright?" One of the servants asked from outside your room. Your head snapped towards the door, covering your mouth with one hand.

"Y-yes! I am! A-am I needed-" You suddenly felt something enter you. You looked back, making eye contact with the god. Buddha stared back, his eyes filled with a desire you've never seen before. Buddha's tongue slowly slipped inside your walls. Your eyes gaze up at the ceiling, biting your bottom lip to prevent any sound from coming out.

"Yes. Lord Zeus asks for your presence." The servant answered. Your eyes widen when he starts to torment your core. Buddha dug his tongue deep inside you, suckling like he's dying of thirst. You knew he did that on purpose.

Despite this being his first time giving you head, he was doing amazing at sending you to euphoria. Your lower region began to convulse, a intense wave of heat overwhelming you. Your throat was starting to get sore from moaning and having to hold them back as best as you could.

"T-Tell Lord Zeus I can't- ah!" You were surprised you can somehow keep a conversation while you were given oral by the candy loving god.

Before you could finish your sentence, your walls clenched around Buddha's tongue. You thrusted your hips forward, feeling your orgasm getting closer.

"I will inform Lord Zeus at once." The servant's footsteps faded from your door. Before you can reach your climax, Buddha moved back, strings of your arousal connected to his tongue and lips. You dug your nails into the bed from the overwhelming sensation, waiting to be released. Buddha stands up, tracing his fingers along your wet folds.

"So wet. And you taste so sweet, too." Buddha teased, licking up your juices from his fingers.

"Dammit, let me cum! It's been four times! I need to cum! Please let me cum!" You begged, more tears coming out of your eyes. Buddha stared at your face, licking his lips.

Your flushed face, complete with your tongue hanging out and tears in your eyes. Seeing in such a vulnerable state was simply... Enticing.

You fell backwards, eyes fluttering and your vision blurry due to the tears. You heard some shifting but you were too blissed out and assumed he was done.

You tried to move but large hands kept you in place and spread your legs wider.

Buddha pressed his fully exposed erection to your aching core, his tip slightly brushing your puffy folds.

"We're not done yet~"

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

Something Special

A/n: No one asked for Nikki but I like Nikki Idc that he's 65 HE'S PRETTY this is also so not how he'd react but I thought it was cute so sue me

Warnings: Smut, reader is a little bit of a stalker, thigh riding, oral (m receiving), slight angst, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

Nikki Sixx. Six foot tall crude bassist of big glam band Motley Crue.

You were obsessed.

You went to as many of their shows as you could, attending any after parties they had, all in the hopes of ‘accidentally’ running into Nikki and having the night you’d been touching yourself to for the past few months.

You couldn’t help it. You were all alone in bed with nothing but your thoughts to fuel you, no wonder your hand slid down between your thighs. Countless times you’d pretended it was Nikki’s hand pleasuring you, picturing his soft lips caressing the shell of your ear and whispering the dirtiest things to you, the room filled with your moans of his name and curses spilling out of you like a mantra.

At long last you got your hands on a backstage pass to one of Motley’s concerts. You got yourself all ready, wearing an outfit you were sure would catch Nikki’s attention. Leather skirt with matching boots, ripped fishnets and a cropped band shirt with a leather jacket thrown over to keep you warm. You spent hours on your hair and makeup all with the thoughts of what it would look like completely ruined by the end of the night.

You made it into the mosh pit, getting right up close to the stage where Nikki was. It was about halfway through the concert and you begrudgingly came to the realisation that you looked just like every other girl in the crowd. You knew that this whole time, it was always in the back of your mind that everyone trying to get with Nikki would be dressed how they thought he would want them to dress.

It killed your mood and you almost thought about not going backstage. Almost.

The concert ended, they came back out for their encore before hiding away again, inviting those with passes to come on backstage. Since that was you, you followed the herd heading that way.

As expected it was another party, a Motley Crue party. You walked around on the sides, slipping past people in the search of Nikki. You thought you saw him a few times but he always seemed to slip away. Eventually it led you to a door that you stared up at in awe.

There was a small placard on it that read ‘Nikki Sixx’.

You found his dressing room.

You thought for a moment. You couldn’t really go in there, could you? Of course you could, and you did, sneaking in without anyone noticing.

There was a couch on one side, a vanity on the other and in the middle was a small table covered in snacks and drinks and drinks and even more drinks with a small mirror dusted with a bit of white powder. But none of that intrigued you as much as the pile of clothes in the corner.

Of course the costumes they wore on stage were very extra and it made sense that they would change into them upon arrival rather than come in wearing them.

You got closer and saw a pair of boxers placed atop the pile. Your mind filled with a lustful haze as you got on your knees and held the piece of clothing to your nose, inhaling his salty, musky scent, getting high on his pheromones.

Your hand moved down to your heat, pulling your skirt up so it bunched at your hips, giving you better access to yourself. You’d decided not to wear panties, the whole goal was to get with Nikki so why would you need them? Your skirt was tight enough anyway so you figured it would be fine. Right now, though, your only concern was Nikki and his garment now in your hand, shoved into your face as your eyes rolled back in euphoria.

Then, the door opened. Your neck snapped to the direction of the disturbance, your breath heavy and fast, your hand frozen on your swollen clit. It was Nikki, and he didn’t seem the least bit bothered by your presence.

You stared at him as he took a seat on the couch and poured himself a shot of Jack Daniels. He swallowed it quickly and poured another. “Well don’t stop.” He encouraged before downing the second shot.

You stayed put for a moment, unsure of what to do. When your mind finally caught up to what was happening you crawled over to him, situating yourself between his legs and looking up at him all wide eyed.

Nikki smiled down at you and placed his shot glass back down on the table before relaxing back into the couch. “You got yourself a backstage pass so you could sneak in here, huh?” He asked, sounding more proud than anything. “I saw you in the crowd, you know.” That caught your attention. “Shaking your ass for all those losers out there.”

“You saw me?” You asked, looking up at him with stars in your eyes.

Nikki chuckled and nodded. “Of course I did,” he said, one of his big hands cupping your cheek, “couldn’t keep my eyes off of you.” Your cheeks hurt with how you were smiling. Nikki’s thumb swept over your bottom lip before pushing into your mouth. “I’ve seen you before.” He said, pressing his thumb on your tongue. “At other shows, you follow us around don’t you?” You nodded and Nikki smirked. “Figured, that’s why I led you in here.” You paused.

“You led me in here?” You asked, pulling away slightly. Nikki nodded.

“Of course, when I kept seeing you dressed up it was pretty easy to tell what you wanted, when I saw you in the crowd tonight I decided to give you what you wanted.” His hand went to the back of your head, guiding you forward until your head was resting on his thigh. “Good girls deserve rewards.”

Your head bobbed up and down, taking his dick further down your throat. Nikki’s hand was still holding your head, fingers tangled in your hair as he pushed you down his length. His head fell back on the couch as he let out deep guttural groans.

He was twitching in your throat and his noises were getting louder. He started bucking his hips up and holding your head in a tighter grip to the point where he was fucking your face, using your mouth as a fleshlight. You were getting light headed and you were loving every moment of it.

Soon he was cumming down your throat, pushing your face into his crotch as his hips snapped up a few final times. You pulled away when he let you and took a few deep breaths, finally getting to breathe again.

Nikki laughed at you as you regained your breath. He grabbed your face in his hand, squishing your cheeks harshly. “Let me see.” He demanded. You opened your mouth to show him you swallowed it all and he gave your cheek an affirming pat. “Alright, you can go now.” He said as he relaxed back into the couch.

You were at a loss for words. All this time you waited for that? No way, you needed more, you deserved more. “But-but I was good.” You said, not moving from your spot on the floor between his spread legs.

Nikki looked down at you with a raised brow. “So? Plenty of good girls out there, what more do you want?” You bit your lip. He was right, there were so many other girls out there that wanted him just as much as you. Still, you weren’t gonna let this be all there was.

You stood up and got on his lap, holding his face in your hands and crashing your lips down on his. No matter what you did, how much you moaned or whined against him, if your tongue explored his mouth, he just didn’t care. You could feel him smiling into the kiss, it carried such a demeaning tone to it.

You ground yourself on his thigh, needy cunt craving any kind of friction. Still, no reaction from him. It was just like you weren’t even there.

Hot tears trickled down your cheeks, tainting the kiss with a saltiness. Nikki’s hand came up to your shoulders, pushing you away gently and you could see the genuine concern in his eyes as he wiped your tears. “Are you crying? Why are you crying?” He asked in such a sympathetic tone it caught you completely off guard. Just a moment ago he couldn’t care less about you, and before that he was using you as his own personal fucktoy.

You sniffled softly and Nikki pulled you tight to him, letting you hide your wet face in the crook of his neck. “Shh, shh, come on now, there’s no need to cry.” He whispered to you. “Pretty girls like you don’t need to be crying.” You sniffled again.

“You think I’m pretty..?” You muttered. He held your face in his hands again as he looked at you.

“Of course I think you’re pretty, only an idiot would think otherwise.” He kissed your forehead.

“But-” You spoke only to be cut-off.

“I don’t wanna hear it, tell me you’re pretty.” You stared at him blankly. “Say it. Say you’re pretty.” He repeated. You hesitated, was this a trick? Some kind of sick mind game?

“I-I’m pretty...” You mumbled. Nikki shook his head.

“Say it like you fucking mean it.” You didn’t say anything, still unsure of what was really happening. Nikki rolled his eyes and grabbed his half hard dick, pumping it a few times. “This is what you wanted, right? Wanted me to fuck you?” Your gaze fell to his pretty dick, all leaky and glistening from your saliva still. You gave a slow nod. “I’m gonna fuck that thought into you.” You were still confused but you understood that you were getting just what you’d always wanted.

Nikki ripped over your fishnets, tearing down your thighs before pushing into you. Your jaw dropped over in a silent moan as your eyes shut tight. All those nights you’d spent imagining what it would be like to have him inside you, nothing compared to this feeling.

He laid you down on the couch, your shirt had been tossed to the floor, leaving you fully exposed for Nikki to gawk at as he thrusted into you at a brutal pace, his thumb rubbing harsh circles against your clit. It had your mind running wild. “Fuck, Nikki! Nikki, ‘m close!” You moaned, back already arching off of the couch.

“Say you’re pretty.” He grunted. You looked up at him with a confused expression. “Say you’re pretty.” He repeated in a stern tone.

You let out a whine. “I-’m pretty.” You mumbled, hoping it would satisfy him.

He stopped and pulled out of you completely. Leaving your cunt fluttering for more. “If you don’t mean it you can’t cum.” He said in a degrading tone. “Tell me one thing that is pretty about you.” Your mind wasn’t working too fast but you still tried to come up with something while the bassist stared down at you. “Seriously? Not even one thing?” You sucked your bottom lip.

“I-I think I have pretty eyes..?” You said. Nikki rolled his eyes.

“Jesus, do you hate yourself?” You stared at him. “Say it again.”

“I... think I-”

“No!” Nikki stopped you. “Say one thing that’s pretty about you.”

Again you hesitated. “I have pretty eyes.” You said in an almost confident voice.

Nikki huffed. “We’re not leaving until you love yourself.” There was a determination in his eyes you’d never noticed before. Oftentimes when you’d see pictures of him with other girls he’d have a smirk or something but there was never this in his eyes. There was something special about you.