#scenes like wearing shoes in bed >:(
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
❛ BED CHEM! ❜ t. fushiguro + k. nanami
☆ sum. being sandwiched between two of your co-stars during a séx scene sounds like a fever dream. the real fever dream is finding out who you have better bed chemistry with. the sweet blond who always talks you through it or the smug dark haired one who’s constantly stealing your panties.
wc. 5.9k
warnings. fem! reader, actor au, thréesomes, unprotected, semi-public, they eat you out at the same time, cervix mentions, premature ejac, size difference, dirty talk, pússy drunk men, praise, spít roasting, óral (f! & m! receiving), hair pulling, size kinks, bóob fondling, overstim.
“annnnd action.”
you mentally bite your lip, feeling every nerve through your body convulse from your co-stars touches. toji fushiguro and nanami kento—the most current hottest topic, you had this last scene to shoot for a movie you were the lead in. the scene in question was quite raunchy to say the least, both of them take turns to plant soft chaste kisses down both sides of your neck. both signature scents of their colognes were loud, a musk that forevermore wafts against your nose. your eyes flicker toward the camera every so often, trying to stay in character. this was probably the fifth take—you had a bit of a bad habit of missing your lines so there’d be a few retakes. emphasis on few.
“ken, look at her,” toji murmurs, and a gasp merely slips from you once his parted tongue creeps past his lips and onto your neck. his hand slowly trails toward your thigh and he squeezes it. “such a pretty thing. want more, do ya princess?”
you nod as a response but that’s when nanami’s hand gently cups underneath your chin. gingerly, a thumb ghosts by your bottom lip and he speaks sweetly. “ah, now sweetheart. we talked about that, we need a pretty answer from you, not a nod.”
“i- i want more,” you stammer, and as toji’s scarred hands continue to roam down your body, you suck in a keen sharp breath. the air felt substantially thick, mainly due to how all three of you were acting in a big spacey sauna. your hand grabs toji’s wrist and you slowly guide it down between the valley of your legs. the static of his plump shriveled fingertips brush up between the crevices of your thighs and it nearly makes you break character. “i want you both, please.”
“aw,” toji hums hoarsely, his pursed lips forming into a wry grin.
the more their hands ran down every inch of your body, the more your heart beat raced. its thumping quickened, and your thighs forcibly squeeze themselves together. the dark haired male softly creates circles around your thighs with a single digit before speaking breathlessly. “you want both of us, huh. not jus one? that’s bein’ pretty greedy, doll.”
“toji, she can be greedy if she wants,” nanami coos, and you make direct contact with him. .
the nanami kento, you’ve heard a lot about him. him and toji were both hot favored actors but him. actresses would kill to be in your role, kill to be in your shoes.
nanami kento was as smooth as they come.
suave, a gentleman, and of course, a smooth talker. your eyes gawk down his attire and he’s wearing nothing but casual—his sleeves were sexily rolled up and his usually parted blond hair was slightly ruffled and unkempt - most likely due to the growing humidity of the sauna.
tender brown eyes bore into you before he places a kiss near the twitching corner of your mouth. “relax, sweetheart. you’ll get what you want, promise. just be a good girl. can you do that?”
feeling as if your thighs were stuck together by imaginary adhesive glue, you let off a soft panting whine. “y- yes,” and you gasp, watching as toji’s head creeps lower. he’s being slow on purpose, teasing you—wanting for you to long for more, for him to hurry up.
a few bristles of his hair tickles and pokes against your leg before your chin’s softly being grabbed by nanami again.
“ah ah, eyes on me. don’t worry about him, focus just on me sweetheart,” and the two of you lock eyes. nanami’s dimples poke against the left side of his lips and he’s so pretty, he cups your cheek and you instantly lean into his touch. “good girl, get lost in my eyes.”
your mind’s running at such quick speed—it’s trying to remember the next parts of the script as they continue the foreplay. nothing could really be heard except for nanami’s gruff low voice and the faint whirring inside of the sauna.
the next scene, nanami would lean in for a kiss and toji would eat you out. you remember looking over the filthy script many months ago before you even landed the roll.
as your eyes would skim through every word, the explicit dialogue—the mannerisms they’d perform on you, a school of swarming butterflies would pour inside the pits of your stomach.
and now, it’s finally here.
it’s as if time stood still once nanami starts to lean in, closing the awkward distance between you two. once his lips gently crash onto yours, it’s as if your heart stopped for a minute. tender, passionate, and open-mouthed.
your head slightly tilts as you part your lips wider to give him access. nanami lowly groans in your mouth, tasting your syrupy saliva tangle against his own. “mhm,” and every few seconds, loud echoing smacks would slam against both lips. he tastes minty, but on his tongue you could also taste a bit of alcohol lingering on his breath. it’s sweet, and you wanted more. whilst his tongue’s being shoved down your throat, toji scoffs. he’s propped right up between your legs and you feel his big wide hands spread your thighs more.
a nonplus gasp leaves your lips at his roughly gentle touch — your body can’t help but grind against nanami, wrapping an arm and tossing it over his shoulder. “fuck,” you speak between sultry hot kisses, another one of your hands running down the bare slit part of his exposed chest. there, you’re met with a few curls of blond chest hair. you twirl it around with your finger and he groans in your mouth at your touch. back to toji, he starts slow. he creates sloppy wet licks and kisses that trail all down from your waist until he’s finally near your shorts.
“watch that mouth of yours,” toji utters, hot breath ghosting between your thighs.
he’d get closer and closer, closer until he’s just inches away from your the pretty fabric that sticks against your skin. verdant green eyes peer into the cloth that’s attached to your panties and he hums. “cute,” he rasps, pulling down the hem of your shorts for a quick inside peek. “looks like you remembered to wear panties this time after all. somebody’s learnin’, heh.”
“toji, stop teasing me,” your breath hitches, feeling nanami pull away to kiss near your neck once more. he was so gentle, curling his tongue around that sweet spot buried right near the inside of your neck and it makes you oh so weak.
toji just gives you a sly deadpans at you needy comment, slowly pulling down your denim bedazzled shorts.
with a scoff, he tugs on your panties with his teeth. “nah,” and with the fabric in his mouth, his words were a bit muffled. “dunno what’s the point of wearing these stupid things since ‘m jus gonna steal them again anyway.”
a breath gets lodged in your throat once nanami starts to suck against your neck, his teeth gingerly grazing against your skin. his breath was always so warm, every time it sets against your bare flesh you moan. as your glossy eyes ogle down back at nanami, you huff with a cute frustrated expression. your eyebrows knit and compress together and you merely whine. “just hurry the fuck up,” and your neck starts to lean back a bit. with both men having their hands on you—you weren’t sure how long you’d last.
constantly, you had to keep reminding yourself, it’s just a movie, it’s just another scene. .
or is it?
you’re entrapped inside of your thoughts, fully forgetting that you’re on film. as you’re in a temporary fantasm—you bite your lip before a clammy hand finds its way through toji’s shaggy ravened strands. instantaneously, black tresses entwine between your silvery fingers and you moan. he lays his tongue flat, teasingly lapping near the center part of your panties.
fuck, you’ve read over his parts specifically at least a dozen times and knew what he had to do during this scene but you didn’t expect it to feel this good.
toji’s breath was balmy, slow breaths whirl and fan against your clit that’s just barely being protected by the string of your panties.
nanami’s sloppy kisses trail down toward your chest and oh, you felt like you were floating. “poor baby’s fuckin’ soaked,” toji snickers as a fat thumb drags down your sopping cunt. he’s so quick that you don’t even realized he pulled down your panties—you don’t even know where they went. probably in his pocket, again. you feel a wave of heat flush over you as you can feel his feral gaze stare into your twitching muscle. “look at my girl’s nasty ‘lil pulse.” he hums, and his tongue does one single beginning lick near your folds. you whine, and his cold tongue as cold as ice. it’s a type of feeling you couldn’t put into words.
“toji, don’t hog her. i want a taste too,” nanami says in a gentle voice. speaking of, nanami could say the most nastiest things and it would still end up coming out like a compliment.
“s- shit,” you kiss your teeth, watching both of them with near half-lidded eyes once you see nanami’s head creep down also.
now, you’re being met with a chilling hungry yet feral gaze. you throbbed even more as you’re sprawled all out against the fragile bench of the sauna. tears of perspiration start to bubble against your skin as the heat gets a bit more thicker. it’s humid, and you don’t know if it was the temp of the sauna or them making you feel hot but you wanted more. your eyes meet them again, and you feel yourself getting more aroused once you realize. . they were both down on their knees for you.
to your left—there’s toji, he’s got the must smug expression. already near the left side of his lip, there’s a few droplets of your honeyed slick coating against his mouth. all from a single lick, you felt embarrassed at how wet you were. it was actually in the script that they would use lube to help you but clearly, you didn’t need it in the slightest. toji’s wearing a burgundy tank top that nearly sticks against his hard toned pecs. he’s so toned, a burly beefy body that looks almost chiseled, stoned. he looks like he’s been literally carved and sculptured from top to bottom. your eyes stare at his broad shoulders, his thick pecs, and even how a few of his black chest hairs pokes out from his shirt.
and then to your right, there’s nanami. a thumb of his slowly makes its way down your drooling salivating cunt and he’s almost in awe.
his pink glossy lips press up towards your entrance before he gives it a soft welcoming kiss. you moan at how delicate he was, and the longing tender stare he constantly gave you merely made your knees buckle. as the humidity rises in the sauna, strands of his hair continue to swelter against his forehead with the help of slimy sweat.
“my, my,” he purrs in a low voice, and they’re both right between your thighs. you couldn’t help but feel a palpitating sensation brew up between your legs. “we’ve got ourselves a wet one, toji.”
“yeah,” the dark haired murmurs, and his eyes narrow. but toji wasn’t fond of sharing - not one bit.
with a piqued eye roll, he leans in to lap his tongue against your pussy once more before nanami follows.
you release a sweet elongated moan you were holding in for the longest - but you remembered you had to be dramatic for the scene — fake.
that was kind of hard considering the blatant fact that yhey were actually making you feel good. but alas, you lazily slouch back against the wooden bench, letting off your best exaggerated moan.
nanami and toji both look at you at the same time and toji refrains himself from bursting out laughing. staying in character, he clears his throat, spanking your cunt. you moan, and your grip against his hair becomes more rough. he feels you yanks forward with a solid tug, grunting, and that’s when you feel nanami’s soft tongue present itself too.
slow, his tongue slowly runs itself against your pulsing clit and your eyes gradually roll themselves back. it’s now to where they’re both lapping up your dripping taste at the exact same time—both sloppy tongues flicking and slithering against your cunt oh, and you were an entire mess. it’s as if they were competing against each other. as they both bury their heads between your thighs, you start to shake, dragging their heads back and forth into your sopping pussy.
with your toes curling and your chest heaving, you mewl out a sweet whine. “oh my g-god,” your voice squeaks out, swallowing your own sheer arousing embarrassment.
their breaths collide against each other and land right on your pussy. so pretty, nanami’s eyes were closed whilst toji’s were wide open. he’s giving you a smug cheeky grin the entire time, using a thumb to occasionally glissade down against your twitching pussy. “damn, taste so sweet,” toji grunts, and you can hear the salacious timbre in his voice. a voice so deep that your thighs vibrate together. fuck, your hands end up delving through each of their strands of hair, tightly pulling them closer towards your pulsating heat.
both hairs curl within your fingers before you pull their faces even closer against your crying cunt, almost suffocating them. “mhm,” toji’s lips nearly glue against your pasty folds.
nanami’s tongue romantically swirls itself around until it reaches near your sweet nub.
that spot - your brain haphazardly haywires and short circuits right away and your knees almost collapse. “fuck, f- fuck ‘ken.” you gasp, dragging his head up. once you do, you’re met with a sleazy smile—he’s pussy drunk. it takes you a minute to realize maybe he’s not being in character anymore. nanami’s dimple still prods against both sides of his cheeks before he leans down, spitting right against your cunt.
“go on, ‘toj. lick it up since you wanna be greedy,” nanami playfully titters, running a hand through his hair just so he could touch your fingers.
toji’s shooting vexed daggers toward the blond before he’s almost nose deep against your pussy.
once he’s actually nose deep, he sniffs your cunt, spitting on it before lapping it right up. he does it all while staring at you too. “hmph,” he grouses, his long tongue moving toward nanami’s area, now slurping up nanami’s own sheeny trickling saliva.
you couldn’t lie, watching the entire risqué scene of both men fighting over eating you out right before you, right between your legs made you throb even more.
toji’s raven arched brows tweak inward before a hand of his pries your left thigh further apart. “don’t fuckin’ tell me what ‘ta do.”
nanami chuckles, pressing kisses near the warm crevices of your thighs. fawn sparkling irises flicker toward you before he whispers. “you doin’ okay, sweetheart. ‘s alright?”
“y- yeah,” your voice grows more shaky as toji continues. as if it had a mind of its own, a hand of yours tugs on nanami’s hair, guiding his head back toward between your thighs. nanami shakes his head with a cunning smile, going back to lapping at your tasty treat stored right between your plush thighs. swallowing a circled lump that resides at the back of your throat, your legs start to jolt. “f- fuuuuck,” your voice strains, and toji and nanami’s just making out with your pussy.
you watch the entire time—occasionally glancing up at the large propped up canon camera that’s a few feet away from you. oh right, it’s just a scene.
you were practically using your bottom lip as chewing gum with how they were vigorously eating out your starved cunt as if it was their last meal. they both used their crimpy long tongues to create such filthy circles and shapes on and around your pussy, maneuvering their fingers inside your cunt and all.
your breath starts to grow more and more irregular — changing its speed to being a lot more quicker the more they remain sat between your thighs.
“she’s gettin’ close,” toji murmurs between sloshes of smacks with his lips. each lewd ‘pop’ he makes with his lips leaves you dizzy and begging for more. the edge of his scar that runs down the right side of his mouth smears and rubs all up against your clit and it feels so good. it tickles, but in a more raunchy kind of way.
with nanami occasionally blowing and whistling against your folds, you were surely about to lose it. your mind’s spiraling—and as your fingers remain tangled in both ruffled strands and curls of hair, their chins start to glimmer and stream down with your candied slick. “look at me, girl.” toji pats your cunt, although it’s more of a wet slap. you whimper, moist doused droplets coming from your own pussy wetting his palm right away.
your eyes meet toji and the laps of his tongue grow faster. he’s munching against your pussy, swerving his head from back and forth before he grunts, playfully biting down on your clit. not hard, but enough to where it makes you let off a cute shriek. “cum, cum on my tongue, baby.”
“ah, i think you mean cum on mine,” nanami corrects him, giving your sensitive twitching clitoral hood a single kiss.
your eyes go back and forth between the two of them, but you can’t even reply because within seconds, you’re cumming, hard.
your mouth slightly drops whilst your jaw dramatically hangs open—pathetically dangling open as they’re still lapping you clean. both scorching hot tips of your ears were stuffed with imaginary fuzz. you couldn’t hear for a few long seconds—not to mention, your body was being invaded by a plethora of tingles that shot through your body.
“f-fuuuckk,” you whine, and you’re uncontrollably shaking. it’s a rush, a crazed rush that you do don’t want to stop. as you’re spasming, you glance down at the two of them.
“mphm,” toji’s still slurping at your dewy slick juices that stream from you before nanami’s tongue gets tangled with his. he blinks thrice, and their lips abruptly meet. panting and heaving, you watch—not really remembering if that was on script but neither exactly pulls away.
they’re focusing their sloppy slick tongues on your spasming convulsing cunt while mashing glossed lips together. you throbbed at the lewd sight of your two co-stars, seeing toji grow flustered and nanami being a bit more dominant.
that was rare, as stoic as of a man that he was, you’d last expect to see toji this way. you moan, still felling their sloshing wet tongues twirl around the insides of your sobbing pussy all whilst they’re making out. at contact, they’re both tasting nothing but you on their tongues the entire time, a concoction of saliva entangles with each other as they relish in savoring your sweet taste on their tastebuds.
“maybe you’re the one who needed attention,” nanami gradually pulls away, stands of shimmery saliva dragging away from both pursed lips.
“tch. shut up,” toji grumbles, and he focuses back toward you. he slides a tongue across and over crooked his lips.
the next thing you knew—you were being lifted up, tossed right over toji’s burly shoulder.
you gasp, feeling nanami’s gentle eyes bore into your curves before he positions you, using a single hand to spread your shivering thighs apart. you were still a bit shaky and sensitive from your most recent release—your teeth still shattered and saw how their jaws locked, especially toji’s.
you felt every nerve jolt through your body, coursing through your veins.
but once the actual scene came, you were screwed.
it wasn’t fake anymore, your orgasms and moans were very much real now. and that was perfect, you were perfect, because behind the lens—it not only felt real but it looked real too.
your pretty expressions, your flat pink tongue lolling out of your mouth and the way you’re panting. toji’s fucking you from behind and he’s just mean. hard thorough strokes that makes his hips snap right into you, crash into you at full speed to where he’s creating a fatal collision.
“ah, open,” nanami whispers, and your eyelids that were practically droopy glance up. you’re met with nanami. the blond’s got a hand resting on top of the crown of your head before he taps a thumb against your cheek. “let me see that pretty mouth some more, my love,” and you lean into his touch. toji’s hips however were so rude—your sweet incoherent babbles soon starts to grow a bit more quavery due to how rickety he made your body. the olden wood of the sauna nearly splits and you can hear the blaring cracks after each rocky thrust. your lips part open and your eyes go straight toward his cock. his boxers were halfway on with the cerulean blue hem of it just hanging and protecting his sharp carvend v-line.
so pretty, you just wanted to run your tongue up and down and across every line and spot that decorates his soft skin.
“ngh, a-atta girl,” the blond’s brows reluctantly twist together, watching your warm mouth slowly take him in fully.
god, your eyes were so mesmerizing to look at. he delicately cups underneath your chin, feeling the minuscule amounts of saliva drip from your lips. your jaw remains to hang open, dangling like an earring—and that’s when he’s slowly inching himself inside your tight warm throat.
immediately, you see a bit of his blond curly pubes through your blurred peripherals. nanami’s abs clench and tighten at the feeling of your hot mouth and he groans. “my good . . girl, ugh. pretty girl with an even prettier throat.”
toji’s still propped up behind you, two broad hands attached to your waist—practically glued on. you whine, your sweet noises becoming muffled as his hips plummet into you raw.
you feel your toes curl up within each sloppy degrading thrust he makes. as you’re taking nanami’s cock, you swirl your tongue around his mushroom tip that’s got a faint splash of pink painting near the very top. he’s bittersweet, your lashes flutter as your pretty plump lips envelope around his hefty length. a single prodding vein that runs down his cock twitches inside of your mouth and you moan at the feeling.
“fuck,” toji hisses, feeling your gummy insides squeeze and clamp around him. you’ve got your back arched as your hands cling onto the sauna’s ligneous bench.
the furniture’s woody and it continuously tottering by the second—loudly creaking as his pivotal strokes deepen. every few seconds, he’d swat a palm against your ass just to hear your cute whimpers. toji likes to gawk at the recoil, the way your ass cheek jolts back against his hand from the spank, it’s cute.
the concise twinges that follow from his hand makes your moans get louder, reverberating through the thin tapered walls of the sauna.
raspy pants leave from toji’s gruff vocal chords before his callous fingertips dig deep into the fat of your hips. his foot’s tapping against the floor as his head slightly cocks itself back. “mhm, shit. such a nasty girl, gettin’ stuffed from front ‘ta back. ‘s that what you really wanted, hm?”
since your mouth was currently occupied with nanami’s thick inches—you nod while starting to feel his bulbous tip repeatedly thwack back against the roof of your mouth. your eyes squeeze shut for a second as you’re twirling your tongue around his veiny length. steadily, nanami’s cock grows inside your mouth and you happily keep it warm. each twitching vein that runs down his shaft, you flick your tongue against it just to hear him moan out your name. you’re so aroused that you try to sneak a hand down between your trembly thighs, only to be swatted away by toji’s hand. you whine, a pout forming against your swollen lips as his pace quickens.
“no touchin’ my pussy,” he mumbles, and you felt yourself twitch. now that wasn’t in the script, but the more he smacked your cunt, the more you felt extra butterflies stir inside your stomach.
toji’s got such a good angle on you—he’s ferocious, ravaging through your pasty walls, feeling your sloppy slick run all down his cock.
your ass almost glues against his pelvis, and that’s when he leans right up against you. skin against skin, big hands reach near your chest, toying with your bouncy neglected tits. you moan, feeling his thumbs curl and squeeze against your perky nipples that poke through the blouse of your shirt. “such a pretty rack, yeah,” he lowly whispers, licking near your neck. his voice was so low up against your ear. so low, the playfulness in his voice was almost enough to make you cream on his cock right then. toji’s base was very full, and he’s now just smacking against your bare ass with. a few seconds later, he groans, feeling the brief pangs of electricity ripple near the undersides of his meaty calves. “ugh, god such a pretty view like this though. ‘ken fuckin’ wishes he had my spot.”
“oh, don’t flatter yourself, toji,” the blond hums, though as he’s speaking, you could tell he’s flustered.
your tongue has nanami stammering a bit, he’s patting your head, strumming a thumb against your pursed lips. once he meets your gaze, his breath nearly gets stolen away. “you’re doin’ so good, sweetheart. makin’ me feel so good,” and you watch his adam’s apple bobble. his praise warmed something in your heart.
it was something about being degraded from behind and praised near the front.
toji’s reeling your ass further back into his hips with ease whilst you’re focusing your eyes strictly on nanami. nanami’s heart races at the sight of you and now, he’s wondering if this really is just a scene anymore.
he found himself getting lost in your eyes—maybe it was a bit unprofessional, but you’ve had the gaze of an ethereal galaxy. the way your pupils would doe up and dilate as your head goes up and down against his length, he wanted more of you.
“that’s it,” he grunts, running a hand through his matted blond strands. nanami nearly loses his balance once your sucking turns into slurping. you’re a mess, your entire chin being damp because of your own saliva. he wipes some of it up with his thumb, only to taste it himself and he moans. your head continuing to bobble and he’s about to break, no, he is breaking. “slobber a- all on it, don’t be shy pretty girl. ‘s okay to be my messy girl. there we go.”
“tch.” toji’s eyes roll, and he’s still striking into you. your cunt was clingy, gripping around him tightly like a vice. the feeling makes his jaw tighten whilst your stomach seizes in rapture. he’s so deep, your limbs felt so flimsy as your pathetic breaths start to get more strained and breathy.
toji’s grip was angry, it’s french kissing right up against your cervix and you can’t help but let off a squeal. right there, he knows that’s your sweet spot and once he suddenly realizes it, his rude thrusts become purely maddened.
more souse streams of saliva drips down your chin as you’re slathering the entirety of nanami’s cock with your own filthy viscid spit. you look so pretty, cock drunk and on the verge of finishing yet again.
toji fucks like a madman—each stroke felt like your entire body was gonna snap in half. his body’s hovering over you and his warm completely radiates against your own. he’s so close that he’s merely humping you, sloppy greedy strokes becoming more feral as the seconds pass. his tip massaged your walls through and through, and your eyes were rolling way back until you saw nothing but pearly white at the back of your sockets.
by this point, this entire scene didn’t feel like you were filming for a movie anymore. it slipped your mind, you forgot this was literally your job.
“s- sweetheart, ‘m gonna cum,” a husky voice interrupts your thoughts, and your tongue still toys with his leaky slit. a hand of yours wraps around his full base, stroking him with a few good solid pumps and he’s so close. your touch made him shudder, the kind of shudder where he’s just addictive for more.
more of you.
“heh, that’s right. milk the pretty boy, babygirl. he’s all flustered because of y’er throat. that’s rich,” toji snickers, a rough cackle leaving his lips as his eyes meets his abashed co-star.
it was true, nanami was entirely flustered—he’s even avoiding eye contact now and sweating pinballs. toji’s hands were now sweating from the palms and he pulls your hips continuously back into him, each slam becoming more merciless.
but fuck, his cock was just insanely thick — it expanded through your walls as your cunt merrily constricts around his length.
it slides in and out, the squelches that your cunt makes because of it leaves you craving for more. your sopping wet, and he’s only making it ten times worse nanami narrows his eyes at toji’s teasing, lightly pulling your head down just a bit more to keep your attention back towards him. “hah, don’t listen to him, pretty. eyes on me, let me see that gorgeous face ‘m about to p-paint, fuck.”
nanami’s blushing tip reddens, and once he finally cums—it’s so much. it shoots out in stringy milky ropes, velvety and all.
it paints right onto your flat tongue and your eyes snap shut for two seconds at the bittersweet taste. your lips felt tepid, still having your mouth wrap around his cock as his dick now becomes soft and flaccid. “god,” he whines, multiple metallic fingers of his delving in your scalp.
nanami’s so pretty after he finishes, he’s got somewhat of a feverish glow to him and you see his veins pop out through each of his bulky muscles. it shows right through his shirt he wore, which was close enough to being see through.
“take it, swallow it f’ me sweetheart,” and he cups your chin, removing his dick from your dampened lips. his eyes were just as droopy as yours and he’s heavily panting. “ah, can you do that?”
with your cheeks all puffed up and stored full of cum, you’re completely dimwitted. you give him a nod, swallowing the hot seed before taking a second to breath. nanami doesn’t waste any time and he leans in, pulling you into a kiss. “i want a taste of myself too.” he murmurs breathlessly between kisses. as his head lowers to your level, you moan at the feeling of his lips pressing onto yours. it’s passionate, his tongue intertwines with your own and he then roves the tip of his tongue near the crevice of your mouth. there, he tastes a few remnants of his cum and it makes him groan.
toji’s still plowing into your sopping cunt that’s fully drenching down on him before he quips.
“hn. freaks,” and literally seconds after that, his cockiness fades away because he’s now cumming too. it’s quick, it hits him at full force like a speed of a semi-truck. toji’s ramming his cock up against that sweet spongey texture that’s making you whimper before he finishes himself. the build up was practically non existent. it was just sloppy, the hormone rush drives him insane and now he’s the one that’s short-circuiting. “oh s- shit,” he growls, feeling his dick starting to tighten and shrivel up whilst deeply buried inside of you. your grip was just so wet, it makes him suck his teeth in elation at how dripping wet you were.
from the waist down, he feels numb and his hips start to slow. it’s a buzz that even spreads toward his spine and he gruffs, spanking against your ass. “ngh, pussy’s fuckin’ dangerous,” his voice falters, it’s husky low pitch turning more high. it’s cute, and there’s a faint pout growing on toji’s lips.
nanami looks up at him with a flustered expression. “aw, too much for you toji?”
“shut up,” he groans, still feeling the after effects. toji came a lot too, masses of creamy hot cum fills up inside of you before it spurts toward your womb.
your thighs were on its final hinges as you were still arched and hunched over, desperate to see what you looked like from behind.
you were probably a mess, a mess with cum dribbling out of your fluttering hole. a saturated translucent ring forms around his base as he stops his thrusts completely, preparing to pull out. for once, hes speechless—at least for a few seconds anyway. “fuck me,” he groans, and his cock too, was now flaccid and idle.
your fingers run down towards your puffy clit to feel for yourself and oh, it’s even more stuffed than you even imagined.
sappy runny amounts trickle down your cunt, past your swollen lips and onto the sauna’s floor. you moan, squeezing two fingers inside to toy with yourself some more but that’s right when nanami swiftly grabs your wrist.
“ah, no sweetheart. no touching what’s ours,” he whispers, a thumb softly caressing near your palm. he sees the pout that mangles against your lips and he leans down to kiss your forehead. “i’ll think about letting you touch her after we shower.”
“and who says it’s up to you,” toji rolls his eyes, his voice still a bit shaky. he reaches near the glass cabinet for a dry towel before wrapping it around his slim waist. “i mean, i wouldn’t let her touch herself either but still.”
“but—”
“there there,” nanami shushes you, bringing a soft kiss to your lips. your face softens as you return the gesture, and you then gasp once he toji lifts you up. nanami wraps a towel around his waist also, and toji creeps up beside him. cool air wafts against your skin at the sudden movements as he then opens the glass sauna door. “c’mon, let’s at least shower on it.”
as you’re slung over toji’s broad shoulder, your eyes were met with the floor. all of you walk out of the scene set and toji’s big hand squeezes near your ass. “wonder if she can take us both at the same time.”
“she’s a good girl, i think she can,” nanami kisses your forehead as toji walks with you. “right, princess?”
you still felt hot all over your body, but you nod, wrapping your arms around toji’s neck. “y- yeah,” and your nose buries inside the depths of his collarbone. his strong brawny cologne scent again, you’re hit with it face first from each whiff. “i can take you both.”
“um excuse me? this isn’t in the fucking script!”
nanami and toji both glance at the director who’s got a vein popping out of his forehead. toji snickers and nanami grows sheepish.
“eh. it is now,” toji shrugs, and he gives your ass a teasing smack. “c’mon, doll,” and he snickers, turning his head to whisper to you. “we aren’t finished with ya just yet, heh,” and toji glances at the director, giving your ass a spank as you’re still thrown over his shoulder. “cut.”
#★vegasbaby.#toji smut#nanami smut#toji x reader#nanami x reader#toji fushiguro smut#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro x you#nanami kento smut#nanami kento x reader#nanami x you#toji x you#toji x y/n#nanami kento#toji fushiguro#fushiguro toji x reader#toji#nanami x y/n#kento nanami x reader#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jjk x reader smut#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujustsu kaisen x reader#female reader#jjk fic#anime smut
9K notes
·
View notes
Text
✧ Manipulative best friend!Logan with a corruption kink
warnings: smut 18+, this is not a dark fic, Logan isn’t truly manipulative but we have a very naive/innocent/inexperienced reader; first time masturbation, JOI, handjob, fingering (in front of a mirror), first kiss, pet names (bub, baby, my girl, good girl), Logan doesn’t always fully ask for consent but if he did reader would want it, so those are the type of vibes, Logan takes advantage of the situation but reader is into him too, it’s implied that reader is a mutant too but powers are not specified, mentions of alcohol, reader wears Logan’s (big) shirt, Logan is a bit gross
This kind of got out of hand lmaoo it was just supposed to just be a short concept but I ended up writing 5.5k words lolll. It’s not a fully fleshed out fic (it’s in full sentences etc but still just kind of loosely written scenes) but I thought I’d still share <33 (gorgeous divider by @anitalenia <3)
Logan knows he wants you from the moment he meets you. He knows he needs you the second you come to the mansion and join the school. But you’re so shy and nervous that he doesn’t want to overwhelm you, so he tells himself he’ll wait for a bit and let you get used to your new life here first.
What he isn’t expecting is that you become really good friends in the meantime. Yes, he still wants to fuck you but he also genuinely enjoys your company and cares about you. Logan has a big, fat crush on you and there’s not really anything he won’t do in order to be closer to you.
But the problem is that you’re so innocent and he can’t tell if it’s an act, if you just don’t like talking about sex in front of other people, or if you’re really like this.
He hears you talking to Storm and Jean one night and Storm is trying to convince you to get a vibrator and you’re asking “what would I need that for? I don’t… y’know”. Storm says “you don’t what? Masturbate?”.
Logan knows exactly what shy expression you’re making even though he can’t see you, and you’re all like “oh my god, don’t say it that loud”. And he knows your pretty face must be getting all hot with embarrassment and the thought alone turns Logan on to no end. It’s quiet for a bit and Logan gathers that Jean reads your mind, and she confirms to Storm that you’re not lying.
Logan can only hear the conversation because he’s in the kitchen and you’re all in the room next to it, but some students come in so he can’t keep eavesdropping, as much as he wants to. And he knows there’s no way you’re continuing the conversation if he’s in the room, so he has to give up for the night. He tries to ask Storm the next day about what you said and she just calls him a pervert and says to ask you himself if he wants to know so badly.
But that’s kind of the thing. He’s become your best friend over the last few months, but there are still some things you’d never tell him just because he’s a guy, even if you don’t see him as more than a friend. Yet.
And Logan only gets more desperate when you’re drunk one evening after a girl’s night and you’re knocking at his door. It’s really late but Logan lets you in of course. You’re crying a bit and he makes you sit in his bed and takes off your shoes and slides off your jacket while you hiccup something unintelligible.
He sits down with you and you can barely focus on what you’re saying, and then you get up mumbling about your uncomfortable tights and your skirt and suddenly you’re in front of him in just a top and panties. Logan has to gulp down a moan as he stares at the flesh of your thighs and the rolls on your belly and all he can think about is devouring you whole – until he hears you mention the conversation with Storm and Jean from the other day, “wait, what was that?”
You pout, “Well I was talking to them and turns out apparently I’m the only woman in the world that doesn’t masturbate and– and Jean went home to Scott, and Storm went home with someone she met at the bar and I’ve never even done anything with a guy, not even with myself. I just feel left behind.”
And Logan tells you something about how you’re just a late bloomer and there’s still time, because that’s what he thinks you want to hear, but you tell him it’s condescending. You don’t want to be a late bloomer, you just want to have sex. And oh– Logan can help you with that.
He has to do his absolute best to keep calm and not mount you immediately, but you’re drunk so that’s what’s stopping him. He might manipulate you a little to get what he wants but he’s not that bad. He asks “you don’t like touching yourself?” And you just shrug and say “dunno”.
“You never feel an ache between your legs?” Logan asks, keeping so calm it’s painful. And he can practically feel the heat melting off your face at the question as your eyes dart around the room, “I don’t know, sometimes”.
“And you don’t touch yourself?”
You shrug again, looking everywhere but at Logan, “I never really know what people mean when they say that. I, like, touch myself and it feels nice but that’s it.”
Logan smiles, “how long do you touch yourself for?”
“I don’t know, a few seconds.”
And he chuckles and says “it’s normal that you don’t get anywhere in a few seconds, bub.”
“Oh. I didn’t know that,” you manage to meet his eyes briefly but look away again as you sit on your hands shyly.
“You ever watched porn?” Logan asks and your eyes go wide as if he’s just committed the worst sin known to womankind in front of you and you hug your legs and say “noo, I would never. I’m not, like, a pervert.”
Logan laughs, “Porn isn’t just for perverts. There’s more to it than choking and bondage, there’s tame stuff.” You just say “well I’ve never watched any.”
“Maybe you should.”
“Maybe, I don’t know.”
He can tell you’re getting a bit ashamed and while he would love to train that shame out of you when it comes to sex, now isn’t the time when you’re drunk in his bed at 2AM.
“You wanna go to sleep?” He asks, failing to resist giving a small squeeze to your knee. Your eyes fly to his hand there, gaze lingering on his fingers even as he pulls them away. You nod after a few moments, and Logan reaches out to wipe away the remnants of your tears and says “you wanna sleep in my bed? We could cuddle”.
You grin like a child who’s just tried ice cream for the first time at his suggestion and he gives you a bigger shirt of his so you don’t have to sleep in that small, tight top you’re wearing. You pull off your top without warning and then he’s looking at you in just your underwear and he feels like he’s died and ascended to heaven even though he’s probably more likely to go to hell with the thoughts he’s having about you right now.
You cast a shy glance over your shoulder as you undo your bra and Logan wills himself to shut his eyes, putting his hand over them because he knows otherwise he’d look.
He only wants to fuck you more when he sees you in his shirt though, and he’ll definitely have to go to the bathroom to jerk off once you’ve fallen asleep. Except that you snuggle against his side so cutely, head resting on his shoulder with a leg thrown over his.
You’re fast asleep before he can even say good night and when he moves to get up you move closer, and now he’s got your plush tits pressed up against his side and your arm over his waist. A tent has formed in his pants and he feels pathetic that he’s measuring the distance between your elbow and his crotch, silently willing you to move just a few inches.
He’s so horny that he’d feel no moral qualms at jerking off right next to you. He’d cum so quickly with you pressed to his side, but he wouldn’t know how to explain it if you woke up. He doesn’t want to scare you away. So he pulls away to get up, and you wake up and whine when he stands up, telling you he just has to pee to which you grumble, and you grab his pillow to cuddle with instead.
He jerks off shamelessly, sitting on the edge of the bathtub. His spit slicked-palm is starting to get loud as he strokes his cock to thoughts of you, but he doesn’t care if you hear. You probably wouldn’t know what he’s doing anyway with how innocent you are.
He doesn’t even have to fantasise about any sexual scenario with you. Thinking about the pretty smile you have whenever you look at him is enough to have his fists drenched in his cum as he jerks himself off with both hands to stroke his entire length.
He can’t hold back the small moan that spills over his lips when he cums, torn between hoping you heard and hoping you didn’t. Logan washes his hands and rejoins you in bed.
He takes a moment before he slips under the covers, taking in the sight of you in his bed, imagining you’re his and that it’s the norm for you to sleep together rather than an exception. You stir as the mattress dips with his weight, swapping the pillow of his that was clutched between your arms for his bicep that you hold onto instead. You’re way too gone to have heard any of what he just did, and for a moment he feels dirty for thinking about you the way that he does.
It doesn’t last long, of course, as he dreams of you most nights. He can’t feel bad about it though – he’ll take any dream over one of his nightmares (that he hasn’t had since he met you). And if he’s honest it turns him on how innocent and unsuspecting you are of what goes on in his head when he thinks of you.
-
You wake up still wrapped around his body the next morning. You have a headache and Logan brings you something to soothe it, offering to massage your stiff neck too. You sigh in bliss as soon as Logan’s hands are on you, and he reminds himself that you must be touch-starved. You’ve never touched yourself, let alone felt the touch of another person that went beyond platonic or familial affection.
He revels in the sounds he pulls from you with ease with the most basic massaging technique there is. He never wants to leave. He started off hovering over the back of your thighs, but he’s been making his way forwards and now his crotch is nestled right against the soft swell of your ass. You either don’t notice that he’s slowly moved or you don’t realise what exactly is pressing into your backside.
It’s obvious that you’re enjoying his hands on the back of your neck and the top of your shoulders; he doubts there’s anything that could distract you from it. Except if he got hard maybe, but he’s got more self control since he jerked off in the bathroom again after waking up with morning wood and with you by his side, just before he brought you some painkillers.
“You’re so good with your hands, Logan,” you tell him, voice all raspy, and he smirks at the innuendo you don’t realise you’re making.
“It’s what my girl deserves,” he says, pulling a smile and a hum from your lips.
“I’m your girl?” you ask shyly, eyes still closed as his knuckles drag over your skin.
“O’course you are, bub.” He’s not sure in what way you interpret the pet name but he can tell you like it, hearing how your heartbeat speeds up just that little bit. You like being his, and he likes that.
-
It’s during a particularly horny evening that Logan comes to your room. He’s jerked off twice today to pictures of you — pictures he’s snuck over the time he’s known you, you smiling as you laugh at a tv show, stretching on the sofa not realising that he’s got his phone out, or that one photo of you smiling all shyly on the day you first met him and he showed you around the mansion. Jean asked to take a picture to commemorate the day you joined them, and he remembers the way he slid his arm around the back of your waist and you placed your hand shyly on his back, smiling all adorably.
He’s got a picture of you in a bikini from that one time you two went swimming but he keeps that for special occasions. Today was one of those special occasions, and he came all over his phone screen, cursing when he had to clean it afterwards; he even had to get the phone case off and all.
But you still won’t leave his head for even just a second, so he decides it’s time for the next step. He doesn’t want to overwhelm you with anything, but he also just really wants you. Can’t help it. He’s a selfish man but any man would be if he knew you the way Logan did. He knocks at your door. “Yeah?” you call out.
You grin when he steps in and closes the door behind himself. You stretch out your arms for a hug to greet him, even though you only saw him a few hours ago. He joins you where you’re sitting on your bed with your laptop. Logan turns the screen towards him, hoping to find something naughty but he should have known better. It’s just some video essay on a topic he’s never even heard of. He shuts the laptop.
“You know, I’ve been thinking,” you tell him, genuinely focussed, “If I’m your girl then what are you to me? My boy sounds weird, and my man.. I don’t know.”
He almost forgot that he called you his girl to your face, and he smirks when he imagines you thinking about it these past few days. He lies down on his side, invading your space, almost touching you with how close he is next to you.
“I can be anything you like, bub.”
You shrug shyly, “Maybe you’re just my Logan.”
He’s surprised at how much that turns him on. You being his, that’s one thing. But him being yours? Those two things go hand-in-hand, of course, but he thought you were still a long way off from liking him as much as he likes you.
It encourages him to ask you what he’s been thinking about for days. He says it casually. “So, had any success touching yourself?” He uses that tame expression so that you’re less embarrassed.
Still, your eyes widen slightly and you immediately start playing with the hem of your oversized t-shirt. “What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean,” he smirks, “Don’t gotta be embarrassed around me. We’ve been over this.” Although, for a second he wonders if you even remember the conversation. You were drunk after all, and he considers feeling bad, but then you smile.
“I know, but… I haven’t tried it since. I’ve thought about it but I still don’t know what to do.” He’s got you right where he wants.
“Y’know, I don’t mind showing you. You deserve to feel good.”
You look away, “What would you even show me? And how? Guys are different down there.” Oh, you’re so innocent. He’s having so much fun.
“I could touch you.” He watches you experience a multitude of emotions as you think about it. Shame, intrigue, resolve.
“Wouldn’t that be weird for you?”
“Not at all, don’t worry about me.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure, bub.”
You look around you, putting your laptop and your phone on your nightstand, “What do I do?” you ask, playing with the blanket.
“I’ll just touch you a bit, okay? Just get you used to the feeling,” he tells you, both of you sitting up and he pulls your legs around his waist, gently touching all over your inner thighs, squeezing the flesh.
You’re already arching your back, scooting closer to him, and he lifts your shirt up over your hip and sees the wet spot on your panties. He’s not sure if you notice how hard he is under his sweatpants but no one could blame him for that. You’re getting so worked up and he hasn’t even touched you anywhere near your pussy, you’re breathing so heavily and your heart is beating so fast.
“Y’want a kiss, bub?” Logan asks you all sweetly, and you lean in as soon as the words leave his mouth. Your lips on his are messy but eager, and Logan loves that he can feel that it’s your first kiss. You don’t know what you’re doing but you need it – need him.
But he has to stop at some point because it’s getting harder to not fuck you, so he gently pulls away, and you grin shyly when the kiss is over. Logan leans in one more time for a quick kiss. He pushes you backwards a bit and looks between your spread thighs. You’re so wet. You’re squirming under his gaze.
“Can I take these off?” he asks, tugging at the waistband of your panties and your breathing gets shaky when his finger grazes your belly. You bite your lip and nod.
“Good girl,” he says, pulling your underwear down your thighs with one hand, eyes glued to your pussy. You’re so wet and sticky already, and your pussy looks even better than anything he’s imagined – and he’s imagined it a lot.
He wants nothing more than to fuck you, or eat you out at least, but he’s supposed to be showing you how to masturbate, so he lies down next to you.
“So, if you were alone, you might touch yourself like this.” He takes his hand between your thighs, softly touching your clit. You’re leaning into him, head against his shoulder as you watch his big hand between your thighs. It looks so right there. You look to your side and gaze up at Logan, and you can’t help but just kiss him again.
And while you’re kissing, Logan puts his palm on your pussy and starts rubbing you a bit rougher, and you become too distracted to keep kissing him.
“You like when I play with your clit?” he teases you and you nod, hiding your face in his neck. Logan moves down to fuck one of his fingers into you, then two, and you’re whimpering against his warm skin. With his palm still rubbing against your clit, you have your first ever orgasm with Logan and you hold onto him as the pleasure flows through your body.
He keeps going until you put your hand around his wrist to stop him and you shyly smile up at him. “Was that good, bub?”
You answer with a weak “yeah”, your voice hoarse but you’re smiling and your skin is glowing. Logan pulls his hand away and shows you how your arousal sticks to his fingers, and your eyes search his because you’re not sure if this is a good or bad thing.
Your mouth opens when Logan takes his fingers into his mouth and sucks your taste off them. “Taste so fucking good, baby. You wanna taste yourself?” And he waits patiently until you’ve made your mind up but you nod and let him put one of his fingers into your warm, wet mouth. You suck on it for much longer than necessary and Logan tries to save the image in his brain for later.
He holds you for a bit as you comprehend that you’ve just had an orgasm for the first time in your life. You shyly thank him before he leaves and he makes you promise that you’ll try it again by yourself soon. That was the whole point of this, after all – nothing to do with Logan or anything.
-
Logan thought he’d be satisfied for a bit, but all it’s done is make him even needier for you. You’re so oblivious to all his flirting, and he’s sure you genuinely thought he just wanted to show you how to masturbate the other day.
Of course, he could just ask you out, but it’s more fun this way. He likes watching you figure stuff out. He wonders how long it’ll take you to realise that he actually likes you, that teaching you how to jerk off maybe wasn’t only in your best interest but in his too.
He’s a bit pathetic when it comes to you at this point, though. As much as he’s teasing you, it’s also teasing him. It’s a bit of a low point, but he pretends to be in a bad mood to get your attention.
You come to his room in the late afternoon when you haven’t seen him all day, and you’re so kind and so caring and immediately worried when you see him sprawled in bed in his pyjamas that consist of grey sweatpants and a white shirt.
“You okay? What happened?” you close the door and sit on his bed immediately.
Logan fake sighs, suppressing a smile as he pouts exaggeratedly. “Nothing, bub. Don’t you worry about me.” He squeezes your knee to reassure you, and he watches you perk up at his touch.
“You know you can always talk to me,” you smile kindly, and he wants to kiss you so badly. He doesn’t usually talk about emotions and feelings all that much, but you’re always trying to get him to open up because it’s good for him, so he knows he’s got you with this.
“I’m just feeling a bit down today. That’s all. Don’t wanna bother you with my problems.”
“You’re not bothering me. I’m always here for you.”
He watches you gnawing on your lip as you think about what to say next, and Logan waits curiously. “Have you uh, jerked off today? I think an orgasm would cheer anyone up, if it feels as good as you made me feel the other day.”
And Logan’s all like “I’ve tried but it’s been so long since a woman touched me, and my own hand just isn’t doing it for me anymore.”
He gets hard immediately when you perk up, smiling with your sweet expression and saying, “I could help you! I hate seeing you so sad”.
And Logan pretends, saying “no, bub, I’d never ask that of you,” but you sit up on your knees and say “I really wouldn’t mind! And I owe you for last time anyway.”
“If you’re really sure?”
You nod sweetly and brush your hair out of your face and ask, “where do you want me?”
And even just you asking that is something that will stay in his mind for a long time. He feels like you’d do anything he asked of you right now and it’s already driving him crazy. He says “just next to me here, bub. Yeah there is fine”.
You lean in to kiss him and he only pulls away out of surprise, and you’re blinking back at him with wide eyes, apologising, “It’s just cause you kissed me last time, I thought— I thought it’s part of–”
“Yeah, baby, it is. Just didn’t know if you wanted to kiss me again.”
You give him a cheeky smile and nod, “of course I wanna kiss you. You’re my best friend. I’d do anything for you”.
Logan grins and bites his lip and says “me too, bub”, and leans in and kisses you again, basically attacking you with his mouth. He can tell it’s getting a little much for you with the way he’s eating you alive so he stops himself and asks “was that too much?”
You shake your head, “just don’t know how to kiss like that yet.” And he likes that. Yet. Maybe he can sneak in some kissing lessons at some point, just to show you how it’s done of course, no other reason.
You look down at his lap then and it’s obvious how hard he is. “Y’wanna you touch it like this first?” he asks you, grabbing himself over his sweatpants, the outline becoming clearer.
And you nod so eagerly, but get a bit shy when you’re touching his cock, one of your knees pulled up to your chest as you palm him over his sweatpants. “It’s so big,” you marvel, oblivious to how much this is affecting Logan.
“You wanna see?”
You tell him yes and he pulls the waistband down, and you lean closer when he wraps a hand around his cock, stroking himself just a few times to relieve the pressure.
You bring a finger to his mouth like he did for you the other day, and he chuckles, “that won’t be enough, bub”. Your cheeks burn when you say “oh”.
“Here,” he moves your hand so your open palm is facing him and he spits into it.
“Now do this,” Logan tells you, taking your hand and wrapping it around his cock, guiding you up and down with your spit-slicked palm. You watch in awe as you jerk him off, his hand never leaving the back of yours.
He could cum immediately like this, but he tries to savour the feeling a bit longer.
“Does it feel good?” you ask him.
“Yeah, doing so well, bub. Think you can do it by yourself?”
You shake your head with a smile. Yes, you could do it by yourself, but you like the feeling of him guiding you, setting the pace and intensity. He grins and continues, squeezing your hand tighter so that your grip on his cock tightens too.
Logan lets you jerk him off a bit longer before he gives in. He’s proud of you for not pulling away in surprise when he cums, coating your hand and his in his cum as ropes of white shoot over your skin and onto his shirt. He lets go of your hand to pull off his shirt and watches you examine your hand full of Logan’s cum.
“Can I taste it?” you ask in a quiet voice, and Logan just about gets hard again.
“Yeah,” he tells you, but pushes his own fingers into your mouth. Your lips wrap around his two fingers and suck the cum off, and Logan can’t help but push them further into your mouth, making you giggle. You pull his hand away after a bit, only to lick your own fingers. He uses the clean part of his shirt to dry your hand off after, and you lie down to cuddle him.
“Do you feel better?”
Logan chuckles, “Yeah, bub, I feel better. Thanks.”
“Good,” you grin, proud of yourself. Logan’s proud of you too.
-
It’s still the same day when you come to his room the next time. You left after a bit to go to sleep, but now there are knocks on Logan’s door that he recognises as yours before you say anything.
You enter his room in your pyjamas – a big shirt – and some fluffy socks, a plushie under your arm. You look so oh so innocent that he almost feels bad for corrupting you. You come in, close the door, and sit on his bed again, legs dangling off the side of it. He could really get used to you being in here.
“Can’t sleep?” He asks, but you ignore him, hugging your plushie for comfort.
“I… can you maybe…” you let out a sigh, “I tried to masturbate but I can’t do it by myself. Can you show me again?”
Maybe you’re not so innocent anymore. He chuckles and tells you of course, and he’s starting to wonder if you’ve caught on to the game that he’s playing, and if you’ve joined him, but he’d still bet money that you really are this naive. Logan pulls his full length mirror in front of his bed, not too close, but close enough that you can see yourself in it.
He moves to lift your shirt to get your panties off, and his heart skips a beat as he’s greeted by the sight of your bare pussy, already glistening.
“It was easier to come with them already off,” you say, and he reaaally has to restrain himself so he doesn't bend you over and take you right here.
You drop your stuffed toy to the side of Logan’s bed as he sits you in front of the mirror, getting behind you, putting his legs either side of you.
“God, you’re so pretty.” He can’t stop himself from saying it as he makes you look at yourself in the mirror, legs spread.
“I don’t know if I can do this, Logan,” you say, shying away from looking in the mirror.
“You can do it, bub. I got you, okay?”
You’ve turned around to look at him better, and he chuckles when he gets it.
“Is this what you need?” he asks as he leans in to kiss you, and you moan yes into his mouth. He loves you so fucking much.
His dick is already so hard and he’s not sure if you can feel it pressing into your ass, but either way you’re not complaining. He takes your chin to make you face yourself in the mirror, and he can’t get enough of seeing you two in it together – the way he’s sitting behind you like this, imagining other positions you two could be in.
“Here,” he pushes his finger into your mouth, even though you’re already wet enough, watching you suck on it eagerly. His finger stays in your mouth much longer than necessary.
He starts gently rubbing your clit in circles, and you squirm in his arms that are around you, one on your waist, the other between your legs.
“I did that too, but it feels better when you do it,” you mumble after a while, clearly enjoying it but unsure what you were doing wrong when you did it yourself.
“Try it.” Logan takes your hand, and makes you do it yourself. You’re squirming with him watching you like this, but it is useful to sit in front of the mirror, copying how he played with your pussy just moments ago.
Logan’s not blind to how wet you are, at having him watching and guiding you, and he can’t help it as he reaches into his boxers to jerk off. He doesn’t get his cock out but he’s not hiding it. You can see the movement of his arm in the mirror and you might even be able to feel it at your back, as Logan’s fist grazes your shirt every now and then as he strokes himself.
But you’re so focussed on looking between your own legs that Logan is genuinely not sure if you’ve noticed him jerking off, and the sounds of your wet pussy are louder than his hand on his cock.
“I… I can’t,” you whine after a bit, taking your hand away from your pussy, but Logan is close, and he wants you to cum too.
He keeps jerking off, and he sees you noticing it, sitting up a bit taller but you don’t seem to mind. You’re smiling, biting your lip.
“Yeah, you can, baby. Here, we’ll do it together.” He keeps a hand on his cock, reaching around you to put your hand back between your legs, and then he pushes two of his fingers into your pussy, fucking you with them.
“You close, bub? I’m close,” he says, and the idea of cumming together with Logan makes your pussy squeeze around his fingers, so you do your best to recreate the pattern on your clit that Logan showed you, rubbing it in circles until you get the right angle.
“Good girl, that’s it. So tight around my fingers. Come on now.” Logan’s so close he has no idea how he’s still holding off, sloppily jerking his cock with one hand and fucking your pussy with his fingers on the other hand.
You lean your head back, landing on Logan’s shoulder, as your orgasm pulses through you. Logan can feel your pussy spasming around him, and he lets go too, cumming over his hand and his boxers.
You’re both out of breath for a while after, barely moving.
“Y’did it, bub,” he kisses the top of your head, and you smile at him through the mirror, turning to press a messy kiss to the side of his face. He won’t take that though, so he grabs your face, smearing some of his cum on your cheek, and pulls you to face him for a proper kiss. You smile against his mouth as you make out.
You sleep in his room again that night, but he can’t say it feels like you know that he likes you yet. He’ll have fun watching you figure it out soon.
-
✧ reblog and let me know your thoughts for Logan to appear in your dreams tonight <3
#logan howlett x reader#wolverine x reader#logan howlett smut#logan howlett x you#wolverine x you#wolverine smut#deadpool and wolverine#fem!reader#selfcarecap
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
𝒟𝑅𝐼𝐹𝒯𝐼𝒩’ 𝒩 𝒦𝐼𝒮𝒮𝐼𝒩’.
✧。˚ eren’s over just being your best friend.
𝒲𝒜𝑅𝒩𝐼𝒩𝒢𝒮 𓇼 8.7k fem!reader, lowercase intended, girly girl reader, friends who rlly like each other, smoking, drifting, fluffy scenes, eren is super soft for reader, dirty talk, unprotected sex, car festivities, kissing, neck biting, bits of roughness, multiple orgasms + overstimulation, choking, ass hits, cunnilingus, daddy kink, pet names ex. ꒰ baby, pretty, luv. ꒱ , praise, sub/dom, thicq!reader, goofy loving cutesy shit, minors do not interact! comments & reblogs are appreciated.
"i'm outside."
why is that text always terrifying to receive? it's the quickest way to make your heart fall to your ass in milliseconds. you can't help but roll your eyes and suck your teeth because he's too early, or maybe you were too late. it's only nine thirty so you're confused why he's here already. dropping the puffy makeup brush in your hand, you stand up from your brightly lit royal vanity with intricate carvings in the pearl-toned wood. slipping your painted white toes into a pair of hot pink teddy bear slides to make your way out of your bedroom and towards the front door for this asshole.
eren gets smacked in the face with your prettiness the minute you open your door, smelling like marshmallows and looking like a fucking bratz doll. your beauty stuns him every time. the six-foot-three man before you rests his weight against the wall on the outside, one arm stretched above as he leans over you with a wicked smile on his deadly gorgeous face. he's wearing a white graphic tee with pink graffiti spray painted on reading killer alongside a lavender nissan 350z. it's old merch connie was testing for his line. he also makes eren's shirts for his auto shop.
eren's also attired in black slim jeans and beat up 550 new balances, his signature racing shoes. his silver chain on his neck dangling as he kisses your forehead, the move so slick. you've noticed he liked to touch you a lot, give little indications of affection. kissing your hand, your cheek, your face overall. he grabbed your ass a lot, and it's so excessive you have to give him a hard swat and a death glare to actually make him stop.
"hello, eren," the way you say it has annoyance laced in it. turning away from him and walking away with that salacious sway your hips have. eren tongues his inner cheek, chuckling as he enters your home and shuts the door. he forgets how quick you walk, literally speed walking to your room since by the time he gets there you're already back on your powdered white tufted ottoman doing your makeup. riiverdance by beyoncé plays softly from the small speaker you kept on your windowsill so the music travels better.
"damn, i can't get no kiss? you fussy with me already." eren remarks, looking below him to see the fluffy black cat brushing up against his leg, scooping her up with one hand and petting her as he takes a seat on your bed.
"no. . aht aht! outside clothes, off the bed!" you're snapping your fingers at him as if he's your cat, eren swiftly raising his ass off your bed, blinking slow.
"where am i supposed to sit, woman?"
"the floor like always."
"tryna get cat hair on my shit," eren sucks his teeth, sinking down to the ground and groaning when your cat scrambles to get out of his hold, never liked being touched for long periods of time.
"you literally decided to pick her up knowing you're wearing white. that's your fault."
you were right but he couldn't resist holding her. that's his daughter. he's not giving you the satisfaction of being right though. manspreading, eren cocks his head to the side to watch you closely. you can see his entire reflection in your mirror, quickly glancing his way and ignoring the way he slowly licks his lips and knocks his legs in and out, unbeknownst to you, to chill his dick.
"so fuckin' gorgeous," eren smiles, those bright white teeth making you wanna fold immediately. eren loved watching you do your makeup. eyes softening for you. he found it so mesmerizing. you surely didn't need it but it made you happy so it makes him happy. "you wearin' that white on your waterline like i like. that jus' f'me?"
you pucker your lips. "mhm, nah. i just like it. i do nothing for your gratification."
"ouch," eren holds his tatted hand to his chest, shock overcoming his features. "keep hurtin' my feelings like that 'n your ass won't have a ride tonight. or no food."
that last line alarms you more than anything. one thing you didn't play about, and he knows this especially. . . is your hunger. you honestly haven't eaten much all day. working a shift at the hospital and only having a salad on your break wasn't filling at all. you all talked in your group chat about how saturday's the perfect day to go drifting tonight and grab some chinese at your favorite restaurant in town. your check hadn't hit yet but eren being him since he likes you so damn much offered to pay for you. you declined, as usual, but he didn't give a fuck about what you said, you were coming either way. to be honest, he missed your little sweet ass. a lot. you've been working mostly overnight shifts, being a SPT wasn't for the weak. and he's been busy at the shop fixing and selling cars. your days apart, aside from texting and facetiming made him want to be in your presence. he felt complete with you. you had to know that.
"if you gonna play with me about my food then ima just head to bed right now and starve," you basically threaten him. eren hated when you don't eat enough, makes dumb jokes about how you'll 'lose those thick ass hips of yours.' the boy will make it his mission to grab you something quick. he's your food and weed dealer. also your personal chauffeur, absolutely loving when you're his passenger princess.
"don't be fuckin’ dramatic, brat. i'm playin'. you know i got you," he stands back to his feet to come by you, pressing his midsection to your backside, where you can also feel the outline of his dick, trying your best to ignore the way it makes your face heat up. teasingly, he starts sliding his warm hands over your shoulders and down to your waist. cautiously, you eye him, having a hot wave of panic hit you when he begins tickling your left side. your most sensitive side, mind you. you screech and twist your body into a curling position trying to escape his attack.
"eren! get the fuck off me, bro!" he's laughing hard at your attempt to twist and yank away from his grasp, screeching and biting his arm which he flinches from and moves away.
“oww, fuckin’ gremlin,” he hisses dramatically, as if you’d stabbed him. “next time smile when you see me at that fuckin' door. gimme a 'hey, daddy' with it, too. it'll make my dick jump."
"your dick jumps for me enough."
eren’s eyes meets yours in the reflection of your vanity mirror. he shrugs nonchalantly, a devilish grin spreading across his face.
“well,” he begins, dragging the word out as he takes a step closer to you again. “you wanna see it?”
you roll your eyes, his voice dropping lower, becoming more intense as he continues. “know you wanna see it again.”
“says who?” you raise your brow, testing him.
by again, he means accidentally when he was showering at your place and forgot to grab his boxers before he went inside your bathroom, thinking you were sleep when you were in fact up reading on your phone. wanting to laugh at the memory of him turning red in the face and trying his best to shield his dick with his hands. making a snide comment about how badly you wanted to stare at it.
“you heard me,” he states simply, his gaze never leaving yours in the mirror. he's leaning directly over you, forehead nearly touching yours. his presence is overwhelming, filling the small room with his raw masculinity. this is a regular thing by the way. his constant teasing. waiting for you to let up.
“okay, daddy,” you grin mischievously.
“mhm,” he kisses his teeth, and at the same moment his phone vibrates in his pocket. eren fishes for it, checking a text from connie.
"connie’s outside, you done?”
“you rushing me now? i don’t like this rennie tonight,” you tsk, shaking your finger like a disappointment mother. standing to your feet, you brush out the curls in your head by running your fingertips through them.
you do look so pretty tonight. wearing an oversized pink greenbay packers jersey with a flowy white mini skirt, eren watching as you enter your walk in closet to fish for some white socks to scrunch at your ankle, and the same pair of sneakers he currently wore. my little twin.
“sorry, i’ll be on my best behavior.”
you smile, standing on your tiptoes and pinching his cheek, eren liking the view a bit too much, trying to fight the urge to grab your hips and pull you close. “such a good boy. now, let’s go!”
“wait, i want a kiss, wife,” eren smiled, trying to lean in before you pull away and shove your hand in his face.
“leave me alone, pervert!”
connie’s goal tonight was to show off the enhancements he added to his neon green scion frs, the car humming outside of your house when you go to say hello to him. he mentions that he’s going to swing by to pick up his girlfriend before he meets the two of you there. she didn’t live too far so he was able to make it before you two did, eren always having to make a mental note not to drive like a dickhead when you’re in the car. knowing your nerves are bad. they’ve gotten slightly better though since you’re with him all the time.
you loved drift meet up’s because it was a free car show to see all the cool ass cars, most of the models popular in japan. men and women in groups drinking and bumping music as they interact. it’s illegal as hell where you live but sometimes everyone’s able to get away with it if they don’t act too much like jackasses. this spot was mostly secluded from open roads or police.
eren walks alongside you, his arm loosely draped around your shoulders as you both make your way to the forefront where cars currently span in action. his car wasn’t parked too far, planning on performing a show himself in a little. the adrenaline pumping through the crowd as drivers send their vehicles skidding around corners and spinning donuts in the dirt your favorite, and his. connie arrives not too long after, eren going up to talk to him before you’re locked in, excited for him.
“i need to teach you how to drift one of these days. i gotta see your pretty ass behind a nissan 240sx or sum,” he says, pulling you closer into his side so you can hear him over the noise.
“that’s specific,” you laugh, looking up at him while chewing your gum, rocking with him.
eren grins down at you, his hand tightening slightly around your shoulder as he pulls you closer to him. “what can i say? i have a type.”
“you sure do,” your voice trails off, focused on connie’s loud car screeching and swinging before the crowd around you. cheers vibrating your ears like a concert. the feeling like a movie. you don’t notice that eren keeps his eyes on you the whole time, admiring you as you jump, clap, and scream from excitement. pulling your phone out to record your friend.
removing yourself from his arm, you notice the cars currently in the circle beginning to depart and make way for others. “con’s!”
eren shakes his head as he watches you bolt towards connie’s car, jumping up and down like a kid, bending low to give him a high five. “that was fucking awesome!”
“yeah, fuck with me!” he continues to slap his palm with yours. you look over to his girlfriend in the passenger seat, reaching over to twinkle fingers.
“hey girly!” luna smiles, tucking her long dark hair behind her ear since it blew everywhere from the wind.
“hiii!” you giggle.
“shit was good, i taught you well,” eren approaches, their heavy hands interacting, shaking before snapping their fingers.
“yea, whatever. you always want full credit, asshole,” connie sucks his teeth.
“oh my god, we should totally drift each other!” luna suggests. connie whips his head in her direction.
“wha—who said you driving my car?” connie blinks, flabbergasted.
luna goes to hit his arm playfully. “cabrona, i meant she can get in the car with eren and yall do yall lil’ thingy thing.”
“oooo, yayyy!” you approve instantly, clapping your hands together and turning to eren with puppy eyes. “oh, please?! i wanna shotgun!”
“be my guest, sweetheart. but don’t try to hang your head out the window again like a damn dog, or else,” his voice drops low, a warning lacing his words as he gives you a knowing look.
“mhm, i make no promises,” you wink, racing towards his car.
connie laughs at eren’s strained face, his friend knowing deep down he loved it. connie knew a lot you didn’t know. like the fact that eren’s madly in love with you, and has been ever since freshman year of high school. it’s not secret to anyone, really. as eren approaches his parked car you bounced impatiently beside, he opens the passenger door for you, gesturing for you to climb in before walking over to the driver's seat. the interior of his black r34 gtr is pristine, everything from the leather seats to the carbon fiber accents shining under the sunlight. you loved when he picked you up just to take you for a ride. he works on cars practically all day given he owns an auto shop, detailing and adding enhancements being his daily thing.
he’s getting his hands dirty and his mind fried from mechanical work. he customized this car to make it his own, his name written in japanese on the right corner of front window, a front spoiler splitter, apexi gt specthe which makes his exhaust sound like fucking gunshots, which terrifies you. on top of detailing the body of the car with giant dragons painted silver on either side of the vehicle. standing out to the crowd uniquely.
eren makes his way inside of the vehicle, big hands gripping the steering wheel as he adjusts his legs in his seat, your eyes locking there momentarily before he inserts his key into the ignition, firing up the extremely loud engine. an anxious smile shows on your face once you see everyone yelling over the power of his car, having been in it a million times, you still hated the sound, triggering your sensory overload. but, you loved the thrill. swallowing, you turn to him, balling up his shirt on his hip to grab his attention.
“promise me you’ll be safe,” you look up at him, worried.
a soft smile tugs at his lips as he sees the concern in your eyes. he reaches out, brushing a stray curl of hair from your face with his thumb. “don't worry, princess. i'll take care of both you and my baby here.”
“i’m trusting you,” you whisper, biting your lip. “don’t hit anybody, i don’t need you going to jail. and please don’t hit connie, because he will kill you if you fuck up his car.”
eren smirks, his hand dropping from your face to gently cradle the back of your neck. his grip is firm yet tender. “now why’d i risk traumatizing my girl like that?”
you suck your teeth and pull away from him, crossing your arms. he only sets his hand on your thigh now, and you let him. “aren’t you going to start driving?”
eren laughs heartily, his hand tightening around your thigh as he does. he revs the engine, feeling the power beneath them rumble in anticipation. his eyes flash dangerously in the dim light of the cars. “promise me something, too?”
“what?”
“we’ll finish playing mommy and daddy when we get home?” he grins.
“oh please, you know you can’t handle me,” you tease. such a bad habit you two have. joking too damn much. but by this point, from his end especially, you’re aware none of it is a joke.
eren raised a brow, feeling threatened. “oh, i can’t?”
“nope. and you’re too scared to admit it,” you taunt, fluttering a kiss in his direction.
“mhm,” eren kisses his teeth, he gives a curt nod, as if making a mental note. “ima hold you to that.”
“drive the damn car, eren.”
ignoring the warmth in your chest from his flirting, he finally shifts the car into gear. with a roar of the engine, he accelerates onto the street, leaving behind a cloud of smoke. malice at the palace by BONES is bumping through the stereo system as eren expertly maneuvers his car around the road, each turn and drift executed with precision. the sound of the engine reverberating through the car sends a rush of adrenaline through him. you hated to admit how fucking good he looked right now, your hand gripping onto his bicep as you giggle each time he executes a perfect drift, tires screeching, watching connie’s car across from his spin around each other. part of him hopes to impress you. and clearly he has by the huge smile on your face. you’re like a kid in a candy shop, eyes lit up.
“i’m doing it!” you yell, eren watching as you climb up on your seat, skirt rising from the wind blowing, your ass hanging out making his eyes go wide.
“꒰♡꒱, sit your ass down.”
“woo!” it’s too late, now you’re banging the palm of your hand on the outside of the door, staring at others who hollered back at you, your curls flying in the wind. the people screaming and cheering louder the more you raised your upper body outside of the window, being sure to secure yourself. eren’s hand instinctively clutch onto your ankle.
“goddamit,” he groans, but couldn’t help the feeling in his heart from your pure laughter. you’re enjoying yourself, that makes him happy. but your safety is important. given that, he slows down just enough so that it feels safe for you not to jolt and fall out of the car. despite your reckless act, he couldn’t help but marvel at how fearless you truly are.
connie’s car slides vertically next to eren’s, taking your chance to reach out and graze your fingers with luna’s as she leans her body outside of the window like you do, the two of you screaming like fans of your favorite superstar. the adrenaline pumping through your veins is exhilarating.
eren’s hitting on the brakes, causing the tires to yell and the car to skid sideways. with a swift move of his foot on the gas pedal, eren launches his car into a perfect 360-degree spin. the car gracefully arcs around its axis before smoothly coming back onto its original trajectory, all done. the world outside blurs into a whirlwind of colors and shapes as you scream into the wind, lowering your body to take your seat in your original position.
“that was sooo fun!” the sound you make is the cutest, giggling and bouncing your legs, full of energy now. he adores the glint in your eyes, but he also couldn’t hide the upset on his face.
“i’m sure. next time, listen to me when i say don’t hang your body halfway out the fucking car. you’ve never done that before, what if you flew out?” the sudden change in his tone takes you aback.
“i can take care of myself,” you retort, your defiant words making him clench his jaw.
“not saying you can’t. i’m telling you don’t be so fuckin’ reckless,” his hand moves from the steering wheel to smooth down his face, keeping himself calm, despite the current situation being anything but serene. he doesn’t mean to ruin your mood. surely didn’t want to cause an argument. he just needed you to understand where he was coming from. “don’t die trying to show off.”
“don’t die trying to protect me.”
“꒰♡꒱ . . cut that big girl shit, seriously.”
“aren’t we meeting our friends to get food? let’s go.”
connie did mention they’d be grabbing food right after, eren clenching his jaw and pulling his attention away from you. he tries not to keep you at these events for too long, sometimes things get rowdy and guns are drawn and he wouldn’t allow either of you to be around that. shifting his car back into drive, he pulls away from the scene to trail behind connie. you hated the current silence of the car, picking up your phone to distract yourself from any conversation. as you pull up next to your group, onyankopon popping up a minute after, eren kills the engine and opens his door with ease. he rounds the car, opening the door for you. you give a quiet ‘thanks’ before speed walking away to luna. eren sighs deeply, sucking his teeth and locking his car, pulling a puff bar from his pocket and leaning against his vehicle to calm himself for a minute.
“you okay? you look sad?” luna frowns as she holds your hand, ready to cross the street to enter the chinese restaurant.
you make an awkward expression, not really wanting to make it a big deal. “nothing, i’m just hungry! also kind of have a headache from the whiplash.”
glancing beside you, you see eren approaching onyankopon, shoving his keys into his pocket while simultaneously colliding their hands for a handshake, hearing the small ‘yo, wassup’ from the pair before you turn your head away, luna pulling you along with her. the five of you find a booth inside of the almost empty restaurant given its close to closing, being one o’clock in the morning and all. you take the time to catch up with luna since she’s been busy with esthetician classes and try your best to avoid eren . . even if he’s sitting directly next to you. this act can only go for so long before the two of you catch glances repeatedly, still making little interactions with the group together if you had to. you didn’t want everyone knowing that you two had a small fight. was it really a fight? you were fine, at least that’s what you liked to tell yourself.
time passes and onyankopon is the first to leave, mentioning he has to get up early for work and saying his goodbyes. that leaves luna and connie to cuddle up next to one another in the booth, your eyes studying the way his arm is draped around her shoulder while he listens intently on everything she says, bopping her nose with his finger as she giggles cutely. you smile faintly, looking down at the food you’re playing with at this point with your chopsticks.
eren glances at you as he finishes his plate, a finger pressed to his temple as he leans his elbow on the table. you feel his glare, turning his way to see what he wanted. his eyes holding a certain intensity that only you seem to understand. “come take a ride with me.”
you continue to fiddle with your chopsticks, swallowing air. “where are we going?”
“i need to talk to you about something.”
you’ve dreaded this. unsure of what was going to come from him when you two were alone. you’re not sure if he’s still mad about earlier, his reaction when luna brought up your car moment laced with irritation, like he wanted nothing to do with it. honestly, there was nothing more to talk about. he knows you don’t like confrontation, so you hoped he wouldn’t make an entire conversation about why he feels the way he does. a simple apology should’ve sufficed. the anxiety is pumping through you now, wanting to groan from his seriousness. one thing you’ve learned about eren was that he was big on communication. if something bothered him or he felt like certain things needed to be talked about, he’d take that chance to fix it. when he’s serious about something, it gave you goosebumps.
his gaze lingers on yours, the flickering candlelight on the table casting an enchanting glow on his features. you swallow, nodding. “okay.”
“we’re gonna go,” you grab the couples attention across the booth, connie and luna sitting up the moment you and eren stand.
“awe, okay boo! it was nice seeing y’all,” luna waves to both of you. eren’s patting his pocket for his keys, pulling out his wallet to set cash on the table for the both of you.
eren smiles. “you too, love. i’ll see you tomorrow, con.”
“bet, see you. y’all be safe.”
the car shifts into gear and pulls out onto the quiet street, the sound of heavy wind encasing the vehicle the only thing you could hear, blurring out the world. eren drove possibly fifteen minutes to a spot only the two of you go to. it’s secluded, parked under a giant tree in a grass field high on a hill that overlooked the city night. it’s surely a romantic destination. the two of you go here whenever you need to rant about life or just escape. it’s been your spot since high school. the slow melody of rnb fills the interior, creating an intimate atmosphere. the two of you sit for a moment, eren fishing for his puff bar to take a few passes before you finally say something.
“can i?” you ask, voice an almost hushed whisper. gesturing towards the object.
“yeah,” he’s handing it your way, clearing his throat before leaning back into his seat, smoothing both hands down his thighs before adjusting comfortably, closing his eyes momentarily.
eren takes a deep breath, running his fingers through his hair. “lemme start by saying i’m not mad at you.”
you blink, shifting your body so all of your attention is on him so he feels important. you tend to stare off into nothingness during these moments.
“yes, are you stubborn as fuck and it pisses me off at times? absolutely. you know when it comes to you, shit like that makes me anxious. i have that urge to protect you, and it’s always been like that. so don’t think i’m being immature by wanting to care for your safety. i know you’re grown, and you carry yourself well. but sometimes i need for you to just listen when i get gut feelings about shit.”
“i know, and i apologize,” you reply almost instantly, the thought being on your mind the entire dinner, but unable to let the words pass. “i do appreciate how you care for me. i was just having fun and didn’t want my mood to be ruined. it was dangerous, anything could’ve happened.”
despite his uncertainty, there's no denying the sincerity in his gaze; a raw vulnerability that contrasts sharply against his usual confident demeanor. struggling to say what’s really on his mind at the moment. “you still have that bad habit of never wanting to be corrected.”
“yeah,” you lower your head to your thighs, fiddling with the fabric of your skirt. “still working on it. i tend to be too aggressive when i want to be right.”
“i’m glad you understand. but, that’s not what i wanted to talk to you about.”
you look up. “what is it? did something happen?”
eren takes another deep breath, steeling himself for what he's about to reveal. his gaze never leaving yours as he prepares to lay his heart bare. “look . . i’m g’na be straightforward with you. i don’t need you to take this as something that has to be figured out immediately. i’ll give you the time and space you need to think on it if you’re feeling the opposite. but. .”
his cheeks flush slightly under your scrutinizing stare. it’s clear that whatever he's about to say is far from easy for him. he’s scaring you. “me and you, we been close since kids. i have love for you for life, but i need you to know that it’s been hard just being your friend. my emotions are consuming me, and being around you all the time is only making it more difficult. i see myself being with you, being in love with you. . for a long time now.”
the confession hangs heavy in the air between you both; raw and vulnerable, yet undeniably true. his heart pounds loudly in his chest as he waits for your reaction, bracing himself for either acceptance or rejection. either way, he’d stand by what he felt. and if you didn’t feel the same, it would hurt, but he would respect your boundaries. you’re unsure why you’re not . . surprised? he’s always been extremely affectionate with you, much more than a best friend should be. wasn’t necessarily fond of seeing you with other men or hearing about who you slept with. you told each other everything. had sleepovers. shared beds, and at times when you fell asleep before him, he’d brush a finger along your cheek and admired your beauty.
"my dream is to get you that big ass loft you want with the tall glass windows that overlook the city. decorate it how you want, be my pretty fuckin housewife that gets to stay home and do whatever you want. shit, start your own business. i'll pay for it all. i'll take care of you. i want you to myself, always. never wanna leave you. wanna get your name tatted on me. kiss you all day. cuddle, watch your favorite movies and shitty supernatural tv shows. run you bubble baths 'n fuck you real good every time i come home. buy you that wolf gray kia k5 with pink interior you've been wantin'. send you on vacations. buy you all the sanrio plushies in the fuckin' world. want you to be mine, ꒰♡꒱."
" eren. . . "
"i'll even learn how to cook for you, princess. 'n you know i'm bad as fuck at that shit," eren chuckles, raking his fingers through your hair. you laugh with him, tears in your eyes. "but i'll learn for you so i can always make you some authentic udon ramen or birria tacos, all that good shit you love. cause you're my girl 'n you deserve it all."
eren's hands move to rest on your hips, pulling you closer to him. his fingers trace small circles on your skin, sending shivers down your spine. his touch is gentle yet possessive. a tangible manifestation of the love he's been harboring for you. each stroke of his fingertips against your body feels like an exploration, a journey into the depths of your being that only he has access to.
“talk to me,” he bites his lip, lips nearly brushing your own, unable to help the pure attraction towards you. it’s stronger than ever right now.
“i feel the same way,” you lean in, moaning from his touch, his hands on you all the time, though somehow now they make you weaker. “i just didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”
eren’s breath hitches, a combination of shock and relief consuming him. “why the fuck would you think that?”
your shoulders shrug shyly. “i don’t know,” your voice drags quietly. “sometimes shit like that doesn’t work for everybody. and we have a great friendship. i didn’t want us being together to fuck up the vibe.”
“we not everyone,” he states, brushing a curl from your pretty face. “and we act like we date anyways. wouldn’t be no different.”
you recepriocate the act, brushing a few brown strands of hair that fell in front of his face, locking eyes before your lips press against his in feverish kiss. his tongue parts your lips, exploring the warm cavern of your mouth with a passionate intensity. his hands roam freely over your body now, one tracing delicate patterns on your lower back while the other slips beneath your shirt to feel the warmth of your skin underneath. every touch is filled with desire and longing, a testament to the depth of his feelings for you. the heat in your face blows higher, as if the ache to kiss him was a distant dream. to finally taste him was something you hadn’t known you needed. both of your hearts are pounding in your chests, every beat echoing the intensity of your feelings for each other.
“you have no idea,” he whispers huskily, pecking your lips. you moan, body melting into his touch. you could slip through his fingers like puddy, this center console blocking you. “how much i want you.”
“show me then.”
eren’s eyes darken with desire. his hands slide down to grip your ass, climbing over the console to reach for the recliner on your seat, your flushed face heating up from the close proximity, his hair brush along the apples of your cheek, his smell intoxicating. you giggle when he goes to remove the headrest of the chair, banging his hand into the seat so it’s completely flat and you’re resting on your back. eren hovers completely over you, bringing his body to the passenger side, squeaking when you feel his hardness brush against your clit, a clear indication of just how much he wants you. taking your lip between his teeth, he gives it a playful nip before trailing hot kisses down your neck, going to capture your lips in another hot kiss, rolling his hips into yours making you gasp. you trail your hands underneath his black shirt, hands sliding up his broad backside.
“i need you,” you whimper, knees disconnecting to spread yourself for him, scooting higher up the seat. your desperation makes his control slip further.
“fuck,” he murmurs, voice thick with desire, tracing along the curve of your waist before dipping lower to tease at the hemline of your skirt. “you’re making it hard for me to keep my shit together.”
“lick me up,” you whimper, pushing your hips down so your core presses against the bulge in his jeans, eren keeping down the moan in his throat, studying you. your thumbs slip into the band of your skirt, trying to indicate that you wanted them off. “please, m’dripping.”
“fuck,” he whispers again, this newfound sense of lust you had enrapturing him. “anything for you, baby.”
his hands slip beneath your skirt to explore the softness of your thighs, smoothing over your ass as you raise your hips so it’s easier for him to pull off your skirt, his mouth watering at the bare sight of you wearing no panties. you’d slipped off your sneakers, the balls of your feet digging into his shoulder blades as he pushes you further up the chair for both of your comfortability, craning his neck between the plush of your heated thighs. he breathes in your scent, moaning into a kiss he places on your inner thigh.
“c’mon—ah!” your breath is taken from you for your impatience, eren’s mouth circling around your clit for a quick feel before he’s lowering his tongue to taste all of you. locking his eyes with yours as you thread your fingers through his hair to push away, deciding to remove the hair tie from around your wrist to tie his hair onto the back of his head.
the taste of you on his lips drives him wild, craving this for years on end. eren groans from the sweet taste you leave on his fat tongue, his breath fanning over your sensitive flesh sending jolts of pleasure coursing through your body. eren growls in approval at your submission, his fingers digging into your hips as he pulls you closer to his mouth, swallowing down your clit, sucking on your pussy to hear you make those pretty noises he’s only heard once in his life. accidentally, of course. maybe catching you fucking yourself coming up the stairs without your knowledge, wanting to surprise you with food while the two of you studied for finals. he’s always kept that to himself, knowing you’d be extremely embarrassed by it. of course, he didn’t know it’s because you couldn’t stop thinking about what he wore in p.e; a black deftones muscle tank he cut as a crop top with gray sweatpants, his hair pulled into a manbun with his skin glistening in sweat from the insane weather out. dark ink around his skin making your mind run rapid.
he releases his mouth momentarily, popping off your clit lewdly to murmur, “you are fuckin’ drippin’.”
your back arches into his embrace, craning your neck as you rock against his face, eren grinning wickedly at your muffled sound, his tongue delving deeper into your folds. he laps at your entrance, thriving for every drop. his hands move to spread your legs wider apart, giving him better access to feast on your needy cunt. you hum in ecstasy, the sensation from the metal ball of his tongue piercing flicking your clit, using it to tease and torment you. his dark eyes watching you like prey, squirming and gasping from every suck.
“fuck, baby,” he moans. “you’re so sensitive.”
his hands move to cradle your ass cheeks as he pushes your ass up to fuck his face better, pussy glistening under the moonlight. his tongue continues it’s relentless assault, curling and connecting his tongue with your aching cunt feverishly while suctioning his lips around your swollen clit. your hands stretch to grip onto the door handle, moaning when his hand goes to smack the back of your thigh. eren growls at your helpless moans, his tongue delving deeper into your slick folds, slithering inside of you to prep you. his hands pinning your legs wide allows him unrestricted access to your throbbing cunt.
“wet n’ pretty ass pussy, baby. so, so pretty. jus’ like you, right?” he groans against you, increasing the pressure on his tongue, thrusting it in and out of you rhythmically. his free hand moves to play with your clit, rolling the sensitive nub under his thumb as he devours your pussy.
without waiting for a response, he resumes his ministrations, his tongue plunging back into your dripping cunny while one hand continues to toy with your clit. his actions intensify as he listens to your desperate whimpers. his tongue laps at your slit greedily, drinking down every drop of your sweetness, thumb working overtime on your clit, rubbing up and down mercilessly.
“stick your fingers in me,” you whine, the brokenness in your tone only making his dick harder. he’d rather shove his dick in you, but he wouldn’t deny what you pleaded for.
eren chuckles darkly at your plea, and within a second, his ring and index fingers are slipping inside of you, eren curling them upwards, searching for that sweet spot deep within your pussy.
“like this?” he sputters against your clit, your juices encapsulating him. your inner thighs tremble from the switch up, biting your lip and nodding. “fuck you up real good? ‘till you cream on me?”
“y-yesss, f-fuck,” your sobs overtake you, his tongue continuing it’s relentless assault on your sensitive bud, licking and sucking it into oblivion. eren hums in agreement, his fingers pumping in and out of your soaked cunt. he watches his fingers pump harder into your quivering cunt with furrowed brows, mumbling expletives to himself in fascination, your cunny squelching and sinking them in each time they threatened to pull out.
“ima sink my dick in your shit, fuck. i’m too fucking hard for you,” he groans against your clit, pace quickening, the combination of his fingers fucking into you while his tongue circles around your clit pushing you closer to the edge.
“keep fucking me, baby. fuckin’ love your tongue.”
eren loves your cries so much it’s hurting his dick bad, his fingers pumping harder into your twitching cunt, begging for you to cum. you’re drenching his fingers. he removes them when he notices your hand is cupping underneath his jaw, pulling his face in deeper and swaying your hips, the balled up expression on your face reading all he needed to know. you stretch your legs high, clamping your thighs shut and wrapping your arms underneath the curve of your knees to angle them towards your chest. eren licks his lips before sinking his tongue deep into you, thrusting his tongue like he’d use his dick.
making a noise of approval, you grip onto his hair while maintaining your position, yanking his head back and forth, screaming as his face clashes with your pussy, tongue fucking you open until you finally cum. your tummy caves in, lifting your head to press into your knees as you catch your breath, streaming out praises of ‘yes, yes yes, baby,’ as he continues to fuck you on his tongue, uncaring of you drenching his nose and chin.
while you take time to recuperate, eren’s leaning his head up to clean his face with the back of his hand, licking off the remainder as he reaches down to unbutton his jeans, slipping them down to his thighs and giving his dick a few slow strokes, the sight of it, thick and long, glistening with precum is enough to make anyone drool. eren holds onto it teasingly, keeping it just out of reach as he watches your reaction. “knew you wanted to see it again.”
you cover your face. “shut up.”
with a lustful gleam in his eyes, he lines the throbbing tip against your wet slit, sliding it up and down to gather your arousal before he’s grabbing the back of your neck to look into your eyes, heavy body hovering over yours, trying his best not to lean all of his weight onto you. granted, that’s exactly what you wanted, to be suffocated under him. feel weak, submissive.
“tell me you’re okay.”
you nod, eyes slowly closing, unable to keep focus. “yes, m’okay. it’s okay.”
the feeling of being sheathed within your tight pussy makes him shudder, removing his hand from your neck to balance his body by gripping onto either side of the leather seat after locking your legs flat. you reach for the recliner to level the seat up a little more, eren kissing your forehead. you drag your body lower so it’s easier for him to move, shivering from the full feeling he gives you, and that’s only half of him.
“fuck,” he gasps, grinding into you slowly so you’ll adjust. you swivel your hips, teeth biting into your lip as you stare at the sharp cut of his jawline, emerald eyes clamped shut. “that’s it.”
with each heavy thrust, eren can’t help the animalistic groans emitting from him, the deep baritone of his voice making your clit pulsate harder as he fucks himself deeper into you. your skin clapping as he pounds into you hard, hitting your spot and making you cry for him. he wheezes within the crevice of your neck, both of your moans colliding within the small enclosure, vibrating over the music flowing from his speakers. he’s fucking you faster with each thrust.
“s’so good, f-fuck,” the wind gets taken from you with every harsh pound, grunting beneath him and taking it all. he felt so fucking good, you couldn’t believe you waited this long just to let him fuck you. too many opportunities missed. for good and wrongs reasons though.
“that’s it, you’re such a good girl,” his mouth gives you a chaste, sloppy kiss to your pouty lips. everything he does makes you want to cum. heavier and stronger than the last. he’s a fucking trip.
“i’m your good girl?” your bottom lip is pulled into your mouth, teeth baring as you smile drunkenly.
“ ‘course you are,” he kisses you again, prolonging it this time, your body slipping lower giving him the chance to fuck you even deeper, stretching you open and stuffing you full. you can feel him all in your tummy, your brows furrowed. “better than that. you’re my baby.”
“i’m your baby?” the drag out of a whiny tone as you grip onto his chin to keep his eyes on yours has the man before you crumbling.
eren practically whines from the way you speak to him, molding your frame into his seat from the strength he fucked you with, listening to your pussy cry for him. “you’re my baby.”
“my pussy loves you,” you move with him, your tight cunt squeezing him, feeling that warmth build up in your stomach.
“it does, huh. tell me how much, love.”
“loves it so fucking much, daddy.”
“that’s what i wanted to hear,” he hisses, groaning and fucking you faster, straightening his legs so he gets a get angle, hitting into you with all his weight. “oh god, baby. you feel so fuckin’ good.”
“yeah, daddy?” you whimper, biting your lip.
“yes, babydoll,” eren groans in agreement, cursing to himself as he slips his dick out, the two of you gasping from the disconnect, eren lifting himself from you. “bend over.”
you use the seat to turn yourself around, hiking yourself further up to give his big body space to settle behind you. you keep your thighs pressed together, shifting your ass back against him and arching your back low. you jump when he lands a heavy swat to your ass, hissing as his fingertips grip your flesh and bounce your ass back, mesmerized by how it moves. he draws his hips back, flexing his dick to make it jump into the right position to easily slide within your wet opening, the angle allowing him to hit deeper within your pussy than before.
“unh, sshit,” eren moans, hands grabbing either side of your hips and tugs you back, your ass clapping amongst his toned abdomen. your forehead is connected with the seat, mouth agape as you feel the swell of him slip in and out of you, eyes scrolling to the back of your skull.
“sshit, you’re so deep, ah!”
his thrusts become more forceful, hitting even deeper within your pussy. with every stroke, he feels himself getting closer to release. eren growls, his canines grazing your skin as he leans in to bite your neck, your filthy whine only serving to heighten his arousal. he continues to thrust hard into you, each movement sending you both closer to breakage.
“g’na cum, baby,” eren whimpers, rolling his waist into you, that pressure in his lower abdomen threatening to break.
“noo, don’t cum yet,” you whine, shaking your head pleadingly. “n-not there yet.”
“i won’t. won’t cum yet, baby,” he hisses in response. “wanna wait for daddy? so we can cum together?”
“mmnh, wanna cum with you, baby,” your head nods drunkenly, sightly blurry. your body aches from the lack of space in the car, but it felt so good to be overpowered by him. drilling his dick into you harder.
“take it f’me, ꒰♡꒱.”
“i’m taking it, baby. for you.”
“moan f’me,” his lips get closer to your ear, eren’s eyes squeezing tight, jaw wide as he fucks your pussy open.
“m-moaning for you, babyy-ah!”
“fuck it back f’me, act like you wanna get fucked,” eren growls in pleasure, his thrusts continuing.
“i’ll fuck it for you, fuck it for you,” you’re straight up sobbing now, rolling your ass back to meet his rough strokes, dripping down your inner thighs. you’d never been fucked this good before in your life. could have possibly been the chemistry, or the longing for him. “ooo-mnmg, i feel it.”
eren smirks, his hands moving to encircle your throat. his grip tightens slightly, cutting off your air supply, his clothed chest on your back and the coldness from his silver chain tickling your flesh. “eren, ima cum again. k-keep it there.”
your body shudders beneath him, waves of pleasure crashing as you feel your orgasm breaks through you, pussy clenching tightly around his cock and whimpering vehemently in his face, sobbing from your inability to withhold your orgasm as well as the overwhelming way he fucked you.
“ren,” you weep, reaching your hand behind yourself to try to push his hips away. but he doesn’t budge. eren grips your wrist to bend it still behind your back, slowing his movements the last motive.
“you came without me, baby. bad girl,” he tightens his grip on your wrist, giving an open mouthed kissed over the side of your face.
a small cry fell from your lips. "s-sorry. fuck, rennie . . please.��
"please, what?” he grits his teeth, the shortest hairs in front sticking to his forehead while the others threaten to fall loose from the small bun on the back of his head. the silver bracelets on his wrist clanking as he yanks you back to meet his aggressive thrusts.
"please, eren—s-slow. i’m sensitive.”
"that's not my name. what's my fuckin’ my name, ꒰♡꒱?" he grunts dominantly, pressing a harsh kiss to your temple, knowing what he needs.
"s-shit—daddy, please!”
despite your pleas, he keeps fucking you mercilessly, his cock sliding in and out of your wet pussy with ease. the sensation of being buried within you is too intoxicating for him to stop.
“jus’ a little more, baby. please take it a lil more,” his hand lands heavily on your ass, slowing his thrusts a bit for your sake and to feel your pussy constrict and beg to swallow him deeper as he shifts his hips slightly back, the tip of his dick kissing your entrance before he’s shoving it back in. circling his hips, ass flexing and becoming apart of you, pushing him towards another climax.
“ooo, you fuckin’ me so good.”
“ ‘cause it’s you, ‘cause i love you.”
with a final powerful thrust, eren buries himself deep inside you. his cock twitches within your pussy, reaching in between to pull his dick out just in time, spurting his cum directly on your backside. your scream is deafening, covering your mouth and grinding your ass back as you cum again, unsure how that’s fucking possible. your body betrayed you, acting as if you’ve never been fucked in your whole life. but, truth be told, you’ve never gotten fucked that deep, or that good.
“fuck!” eren’s tone is deep, stroking his dick while his other hand held your ass, thrusting into his hand to draw out every ounce of cum you wanted out of him. eren nearly collapses onto you, panting heavily as he recovers from his orgasm, slowly softening but knowing he can go another round. maybe at your house this time.
he kisses your neck softly. “are you okay, love?”
you nod, heaving, mouth dry. trying to regain your vision. “y-yeah. m’good.”
before rolling off of you, he gives you another kiss before he’s climbing back into the drivers seat to pull his pants back up, fishing for a wipe inside of his center console.
you’re laying on your stomach now, cheek resting on your arms as you catch your breath, eren smiling down at you, kissing your spine as he wipes up his mess. “so pretty, baby.”
that makes you weaker than anything he’d just done to you, hiding your face within your arms, still looking at his gorgeous face. he loves you so much, it’s always been clear. you hate how long it’s taken you to realize that.
“i don’t have to think on it,” you suddenly say, eren staring intensely. your lips curve into a smile. “i know i love you too. for a while now.”
the sparkle in his eyes makes your heart absolutely melt. “for real?”
you nod. “yeah. my dream is to get you that big ass loft you want with the tall glass windows that overlook the city. decorate it how you want, be my pretty fuckin housewif—”
“shut. the. fuck. up,” eren sounds out, smushing your lips together so you wouldn’t see the redness in his face. of course you’d mock him. you giggle into his mouth, squeaking when he goes to tickle your hip, eren laughing when you turn to hit his arm.
“seriously, eren, i hate that shit!”
“blah, blah, blah. love you too.”
© 𝒮𝒯𝟦𝑅𝐵𝒲𝑅𝑅𝒴! all rights reserved. please do not repost, steal, or modify my work simply because it is mine. stealing isn't cute. i'll ruin your life ♡
#𝜗ৎ ˚⋅ 𝖘𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖜𝖇𝖊𝖗𝖗𝖞 𝖈𝖆𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖓 𝖔𝖋 𝖉𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖒𝖘.#eren x black y/n#eren x reader#eren x you#eren x y/n#eren smut#eren yeager x you#eren yeager smut#eren yeager x y/n#eren yeager x reader#eren yeager#snk smut#snk eren#aot smut#aot eren#aot eren yeager#eren jaeger x you#eren jaeger smut#eren jeager x reader#eren jaeger
6K notes
·
View notes
Text
Can we, for a second, think about the fact that Hannibal dressed Will before he carried him home through the snow?
Will is naked when he's about to get the face surgery from Cordell. We see a scene of him in the operation chair where he's shirtless, lower body covered by a hospital blanket. Hannibal, who cut himself free from the ropes that were holding him captive on Muskrat farm, who then killed a large sum of Mason's staff including trained security and surgeons, saves him before Will's face gets removed. This all happens off-screen. The next scene is Hannibal carrying Will (bridal style) through the snow. In this scene Will is dressed, including a jacket for the cold and all that. Imagine Hannibal, the violent beast we saw when he killed Mason's men, blood probably still on his hands, finding Will there. Unconscious, and then dressing him. Dressing someone is a very intimate thing, especially someone unconscious. It requires care and gentleness. That, and knowing how to handle a body and loving someone enough to dress them while they don't need to be. He buttoned his buttons for him, tied his shoes, put him in a jacket to make sure he wouldn't get cold - I mean, Hannibal himself doesn't even wear a jacket in that scene. There's blood and wounds all over Hannibal's face, he's exhausted and probably the one in the most physical danger, yet he takes care of Will before he takes care of himself.
This hits even harder if you think about why they ended up in Muskrat farm in the first place. In Florence, Hannibal tried to 'eat' Will. He tried to split his head open with a bone saw. That intense violence, the grotesque and desperate nature of those actions makes a perfect and sharp contrast to him saving Will after outside forces try to take their lives, which is a heroically gentle and intimate action. He didn't have to dress him up like that, he didn't have to carry him that way, but he did. Hannibal fails to kill Will in Florence, and with that he fails his last attempt to get rid of his feelings for Will. Or at least, to make his feelings bearable. He thinks that he can control himself better when Will is dead, so he tries to kill him but he fails. Not because he's stopped, but simply because he can't do it. If Hannibal wanted him dead, Will would have been dead. Mason's men only interrupted his theatrics. They gave him a reason to put away the saw and act like it was purely their fault, but then Will is in danger at the farm and Hannibal does everything in his power to save him and get him home safe and well. At home he takes off his jacket, literally lays him in bed and tucks him in. He covers Will with a blanket, he tries to write mathematical formulas to reverse time and cleans his wounds. That's why Will's rejection when he wakes up is so tragic and hard to watch. It breaks Hannibal, unbreakable and inhuman Hannibal Lecter. It simply hurts him enough to break his heart. It breaks him enough to give up everything he ever lived for and surrender to the FBI, which he spent a lifetime running from. He does this because when he decided to save Will, he realised he would never get over the things he felt for him. In Hannibal's mind, the worst thing that can happen is never seeing Will again. He finally realised that, after everything, and that's why he surrenders to the FBI.
Hannibal honey, you don't want to eat his brain. You just wanted him to love you.
It's subtle details like this that always stick to me afterwards. It's just another thought I had and I felt like sharing.
#hannibal#nbc hannibal#thoughts#this is not supposed to become a Hannibal blog but I couldn't help posting about them again#hannigram#It's time to use the tag again!!!:#these tragic homos will be the death of me#will graham#hannibal analysis#analysis#hannibal season 3#3x07#digestivo
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ cw include: two bfs hehe, bratty black!reader, some serious edging, sorta sub!suguru….yeah ahem anyways, eren is mean, unprotected sex, creampie, a little use of a vibrator, rough sex andddd i think that’s about it///someone requested more bfs!eren x geto and who tf am i to deny them
ᰔ
ᡣ𐭩
ᡣ𐭩
“i’m home!” suguru called out to his two lovers, kissing his teeth when he was met with silence. ‘probably taking a nap together’ he thought to himself as he tossed his keys in the dish, a loud clink! echoing throughout the apartment.
he kicked off his shoes and shrugged off his jacket, body immediately relaxing at the smell of toasted marshmallows and vanilla—a new candle scent you’ve recently become obsessed with. as geto made his way to your shared bedroom his brows scrunched together in worry—did he just hear you whimper?
now when suguru opened the door to your room he didn’t know what to expect, but he certainly didn’t expect was to see you, stark naked, the only item of clothing on you being eren’s belt that had your trembling hands secured against your back. eren, of course, is at the scene of the crime, the sleeves of his compression shirt pulled up to his elbows while he held a vibrator to your clit.
“oh good. you’re home,” eren yanked the wand away from your pussy, pinching your thigh when you whined in protest. he ran his thumb over the irritated skin, giving it a kiss before fully turning his attention to suguru. it made suguru’s stomach twist (in a good way) when eren smiled at him, emerald eyes holding nothing but love and adoration for the man before him.
“how was your day? how was work? i missed you,” eren stood up, walking over to suguru to take his jacket from him. eren was met with silence and chuckled, eyes flitting to your breathless figure on the bed.
suguru licked his lips, “it was fine. slow like, uh, like usual.” silence filled the air once more until your tiny, hoarse voice called out ‘suguuu’.
eren whipped his head towards you, eyes narrowing, “shut up. you don’t get to talk to sugu right now—not after how you acted today.” you huffed in defeat, burying your tear stained face in the fluffiness of your pillow. suguru bit his lips, hands itching to reach out and wipe your tears away n caress your body.
he was the softer one out of the two men—a certified pushover. all you had to do was bat your pretty lil lashes and say his name in that honey smooth voice and he was done for—knees buckling to give you anything your little heart desired. he was never one to punish, shit he can’t even scold you without feeling bad.
eren, however, felt that a little punishment never hurt nobody. if you got to mouthy you’d be met with a nice little swat on your ass or a stern talking to with your cheeks squished together, practically touching noses with eren as he scolded you. all this happens when suguru either isn’t around or looking bc lord knows the second he sees a pout forming on your lips he turns into captain save a hoe.
“what did she do?” suguru mumbled, running his hand over the petal soft skin of your ass. although he hated seeing your tear stained cheeks he couldn’t deny that you looked divine like this. you were ass up with a pillow under your tummy, your glistening pussy on perfect display for your boyfriends. the pillow was absolutely soaked, the soft cotton sticking lewdly to your folds.
eren sat on the bed, vibrator in hand, “tell him what you did baby.” you whined, ass wiggling when you felt the wand press against your clit. eren pressed the toy harder against your pussy, his patience with you wearing thinner by the minute. “i didn’t do nothin,” you huffed in defeat, looking up at suguru to give him your best doe eyes.
eren circled the wand around your clit, dick twitching when you began you hump against it. you felt the coil in your stomach get tighter and tighter but once again, for the umpteenth time, eren removed the vibrator, chuckling at your cries.
“let’s try that again, and be honest this time.”
eren swiped his thick fingers through your folds, collecting your essence before pushing his ring and middle finger in without warning.
suguru’s hands were clenched by his side, too horny to barely even breathe. he’d never seen this side of eren before and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t turn him on.
“i said i d-didn’t do anythinggg,” your feet kicked against the bed as eren’s fingers halted their movements. eren’s face was blank as he stared at you, the cogs turning in his head as to why you were being sooo fucking bratty. “i see…” he hummed, eyes flicking over to suguru, who was as still as a statue, then back to you.
“sugu i need you to do me a favor.”
“okay…?”
ᰔ
ᡣ𐭩
ᡣ𐭩
“you ready to talk now? hm? ready to apologize for being a fucking brat all day?” eren raised a thick brow, the tiniest grin forming on his lips as the state you were in. your eyes were rolled into the back of your head, droll falling from your kiss neglected lips as suguru pounded your pussy from the back. you sucked in a breath when he hit a particularly deep spot, your pedicured toes curling in pleasure.
it took almost all your energy to give eren a firm, yet still weak ‘no’. you could see eren’s smile falter slightly, irritation swirling in his eyes at your stubbornness. he gently tapped suguru on his lower back, signaling for him to pull out.
suguru pulled out with a grunt, a shiny pearl of pre leaking from his tip and onto your ass. he rested his dick against your ass cheeks, teeth nibbling at his bottom lip at how soft you felt. eren felt for the man he really did, but you needed to learn, and what’s a better way to teach you a lesson than to edge you to tears??
“why are you being so defiant hm? you don’t like me anymore?” eren asked, now sporting a fake pout on his lips. you shook your head repeatedly, a fresh batch of tears brimming your lash line, “of course i still *sniffle* like you eren. i love you.”
“then apologize.”
“no. *sniffle*
eren let out a noise of amusement, his fingers tapping on suguru’s back. you sighed dreamily when you felt sugu fill you up again, the veins on his dick rubbing deliciously against your walls. suguru pulled out almost halfway then thrusted back into you with a loud squelching sound following. as much as he was enjoying your punishment he kinda hated it as well because he himself was also being edged, and your baby suguru does not care for edging.
“you’re doing great sugu,” eren praised him, running his hand down suguru’s back. suguru grunted out a thank you, his hand finding purchase on the belt that was still binding your wrists as he fucked into you almost desperately.
“you do realize not only are you robbing yourself of cumming, you’re robbing suguru of his orgasm as well. that’s not very nice y/n, sugu is so good to you,” eren smirked when he saw that caught your attention. suddenly suguru gasped rather violently, his hips stuttering slightly. “s-she’s clenching around me so f—hucking hard ‘ren,” he could barely pull his hips back with the way your pussy was greedily pulling him back in.
you were such a little shit.
“s-sorry sugu,” you breathlessly giggled, pressing your ass against his pelvis, grinding harshly against him. suguru whimpered something along the lines of him being close to cumming but eren refused, telling him to fuck you faster, harder. although it brought frustrated tears to his eyes suguru did as he was told and fucked you so hard the headboard was surely going to leave a dent in the wall.
you silently screamed, your nails digging harshly into your palms. “please ere—”
“not until you say sorry.”
“i s-said no—”
“just say you’re fucking sorry y/n,” suguru growled, pushing your head roughly into the pillows. he was this close to cumming, and he’d be damned if he disobeyed eren. it was silent for a moment, the only thing being heard were the sloppy sounds of suguru blowing your back out. it wasn’t until you felt the rough pads of suguru’s fingers against your clit that you finally gave in, crying out ‘m’sorry renny!’ until you physically couldn’t.
“cum.”
you and suguru belted out pornographic moans in unison, hot white pleasure coursing through your veins. his sweaty forehead fell against your shoulder, his hips weakly grinding into your ass as he milked both his and your orgasm.
“looks like she’s still cumming, keep going sugu,” eren ordered, his eyes flicking between the two of you to gauge your blissed out faces. geto whimpered, but listened regardless, his hips settling for shallow thrusts as you rode out your long awaited orgasm.
after giving the two of you a few minutes to catch your breath eren undid the belt around your wrists, rubbing his thumbs over the sore skin. “now was that so hard?” he asked turning you over on your back. he spread your legs, eyeing the mouth watering mess between your legs. suguru was nuzzled into your side, his hand clutching onto your breast for comfort.
“don’t act up anymore y/n…don’ like punshin’ you,” suguru’s words were slurred as he drifted in and out of consciousness. eren cocked his eyebrow, “you hear him y/n? let’s not let this happen again.” you gave eren a weak nod, mewling when you felt his fingers swipe against your folds.
“you didn’t think we were done did you?” eren laughed, removing his shirt and tossing it aside. you ogled his naked chest of course, clit pulsing at how good he looked. eren removed his sweats and briefs in one go, his dick slapping against his abdomen. suguru said a silent prayer for you, because the way eren was looking at you like you were his prey?? oh nothing good could possibly come from that.
“you faced your punishment, now it’s time for your reward.”
it’s safe to say since that night you were careful with the way you pushed eren’s buttons.
#eren smut#eren yeager smut#eren jaeger smut#eren x black reader#eren yeager x black reader#attack on titan smut#aot x reader#attack on titan x reader#geto smut#geto suguru smut#geto x black reader#geto suguru x black reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x black reader
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
whiny and spoiled
in which reader is being a brat but spencer just can't help himself from taking off her clothes and going down on her anyway!
18+ (smut) warnings/tags: MUNCH!SPENCE (aka canon compliant!) oral fem receiving (duh lol) reader referred to as a girl, bratty reader, idk if this is soft dom spencer or if this is just pure unadulterated munch spencer who will eat pussy at the drop of a hat, overstimulation kinda, sexy and hot, will make u bust a/n: requests are tentatively open in that i may not complete them but i will surely consider them!! thank you guys for all the positive feedback, it's so motivating and i love that you seem to like my stuff so much! please lmk if you like this and what you'd like to see more of in the future! so many ideas and WIPs
You’re lounging on Spencer’s bed when he gets home, fiddling with one of his Rubik’s cubes and kicking your feet in the air absent-mindedly.
You look up as he opens the bedroom door and gestures for you to remove your headphones, looking a little bemused at the scene in front of him.
“How was work?” you ask, eyes tracking him as he shrugs off his bag and comes to kiss you in greeting.
“It was fine,” he dismisses, hands braced on the mattress as he leans over you, looking you up and down. “Why are you wearing boots in bed?”
“Because I didn’t feel like dealing with the laces.”
“Take them off, please. You have no idea how much bacteria and filth you’re introducing to the place I sleep.”
“Probably no more than I do with my hands,” you shrug, shaking the Rubiks cube in his face for added emphasis. He plucks it from your hand and sets it on the bedside table.
“I’m asking politely,” Spencer says, raising his eyebrows slightly and standing up straight, probably wondering if this is the thing you’re going to push him on tonight. You chew your lip, cocking your head as you regard him.
“I want to keep them on. They’re my good luck charm. People leave the scary girl wearing the stompy boots alone.”
He circles to the foot of the bed.
“Are you saying you want to scare me away?”
“No. But I don’t need the boots to scare you,” you tease.
You squeal when he grabs your ankles and pulls you down the bed, beginning to unlace one of your shoes.
“Do these actually intimidate people?” he asks absent-mindedly, focused on loosening the laces.
“I mean... I don’t know. Maybe some people,” you splutter after a moment, slightly flustered.
“Hm. I guess I don’t find you all that scary to begin with,” Spencer admits, tugging the first boot off and tossing it to the ground before getting to work on the second one.
“Shut up. I’m totally scary.”
But you’re losing your steel as he looks down at you, eyes raking over your body. There is a hungry sort of sparkle in his eyes now—one that has become familiar and sends a thrill through you.
“Maybe to people who don’t know you very well.”
Your eyes narrow.
“Don’t patronize me.”
The second boot is removed and joins the other on the floor. His hands begin running up and down the front of your legs. You shiver.
“I’m not patronizing you, honey. I’m just being honest.” The movement of his hands ceases as he seems to consider something. “Do you want me to be scared of you?”
You swallow, eyes darting over his face and looming frame, wishing he would keep touching you.
“No,” you find yourself saying. “But fear is respect. Everybody likes being respected.”
“I don’t know if I agree that fear and respect are the same,” he muses, smiling ever so slightly, “but I respect you very much.” He resumes moving his hands, higher this time, over your thighs and under your skirt. “I just can’t imagine such a sweet girl being perceived as intimidating.”
“I am not sweet,” you mutter, distracted by the way his hands skim so lightly over your skin—flipping your skirt over your stomach.
“Right. You’re terrifying,” he amends gently, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your tights. “Up.” You lift your hips, allowing him to tug the sheer fabric down your legs and carefully off your feet. “The pink underwear are really scary,” he teases, snapping the fabric against your hip.
“Shut up,” you repeat breathlessly, face heating. “You’re the one that got them for me.”
“I did, didn’t I? They look good on you.” Finally, he looks up from the pink lace to your eyes. “Can I take them off?”
“You don’t always have to ask, you know,” you breathe. Sometimes, the answer is obvious enough.
“I like hearing you say yes.”
You flush, because what he really means is that he likes when you get desperate.
“Yes, you can take them off.”
A smile flickers over his face as he slides the underwear down and off, making sure to take his sweet time. Every brush of his thumb on your calf, every delicate pass over your ankle gives you anticipatory chills.
“Before I’m dead?” you ask, slightly strained. He tsks, tossing them on the bed.
“Someone should do something about that attitude of yours.”
“My attitude is your fault.”
“Because I like giving you what you want? Sue me.”
“Spencer,” you grit.
He slings your ankles over his shoulders.
“See? You’re not scary. You’re just whiny and spoiled.”
And before you can defend yourself, or at least make a sufficiently withering reply, he’s leaning down, licking a broad stripe between your legs that for once renders you speechless. Any comment on the tip of your tongue dies as the tip of his becomes all you can think about, melting into a content moan while you rake your fingers through his hair. He sucks lightly on your clit until you’re rolling your hips and then he releases, moving to press kisses to your inner thighs. “Are you going to be nice now?”
“Mhm,” you promise, wanting only for him to keep pleasuring you in that mind-numbing way of his.
“Are you just saying that?”
Another kiss.
“No! Mean it,” you whimper.
“Good girl,” he says, rubbing your outer thigh.
The next kiss is planted on your clit, before he’s taking it into his mouth again and leaving you a whiny mess. You throw your head back and your eyes flutter shut, melting into the bed and not bothering to hold back your sounds.
“Fuck.” Your voice is small, a gasp as he begins to flick his tongue over the bud, each brush against the sensitive spot making your hips stutter. He rubs your leg soothingly but doesn’t let up—you look back down to watch as best you can through your hazy, half-lidded eyes. “I love you,” you murmur.
He laughs against you and the vibrations only make you feel higher, whining and bucking slightly when he begins to lap at your slick entrance—kitten licks so light they’re torturous.
Spencer obviously has a goal in mind; there’s no hesitation and the teasing is minimal. He just wants to make you feel good. And it’s working. The man eats pussy like he’s in love with it.
His name is rolling off your tongue when he kicks into full gear, firm, fast circles around your clit that make you dizzy and hot.
“Oh, my god—” you cut yourself off with a languid, shameless moan, rolling your head to the side but keeping your eyes glued on him. He groans in approval as your hands card through his hair, moving one hand to slide affectionately up and down your stomach as the muscles there tense and flex.
“Fucking obscene,” he mutters, pausing for another filthy, wet kiss to your cunt. “Taste so good, angel girl.”
“Mm... wanna cum,” you beg, rolling your hips and hoping he’ll get the message.
“You will.” Spencer takes a long, luxurious lick as if to prove his point, pulling a desperate mewl from your parted lips. “Because you always get exactly what you want, don't you?”
“Mhm,” you agree, eyes screwing shut, but the reply quickly devolves into a stream of little ah’s that are so sweet Spencer has trouble reconciling their sanctity with their pornographic nature. And the way you unconsciously, innocently begin to pull him closer, trying to press yourself further into his mouth—well, it’s like he said; fucking obscene.
Sometimes Spencer likes to tease you at this point, to pull away and say sweet and dirty things that always bring forth your most adorable, embarrassed, desperate whimpers. But you taste so good, and you are whiny and spoiled, and you make such pretty noises when you’re all soft and needy like this and he can’t bear to pull away. Not when you deserve to cum. And it’s thoughts like these that are the reason you’re a spoiled princess, he muses peripherally. Because he’s fucking whipped for you.
“That’s so good,” you exhale, “just like that, please—fuck!”
He knows you’re going to cum, and there are many things he could do, many things he could say to fuck you over for his own enjoyment, but now he wants more than just about anything he’s ever wanted to work you apart and taste you cumming on his tongue. So he keeps running a reassuring hand over your stomach, trying to remind you to breathe as you approach your peak.
You finish, a slow wave of ecstasy washing over you, chanting his name as your hips sporadically roll and stutter into his face, and he’s making out with your soaked, messy pussy in a way that would never lead one to believe he’s ever been shy or squeamish or hesitant in any way.
“Spencer,” you yelp, incandescent warmth radiating in soft waves from your core and slowing your movements as your hips twitch in an attempt to escape the continual onslaught of his mouth.
“You can take it for a minute, honey,”
A defeated, half-pleasure half-pain whine lets him know he’s won as he continues to kiss your throbbing cunt, but soon small, weak moans are slipping unbidden past the barrier of your lips. You realize he’s going to make you cum again and there’s nothing you can do about it but tighten your hold in his hair, groan, and ride his tongue as he eats you for all that you’re worth.
The second orgasm is softer, blurrier, and equally perfect as the first. It threatens the already tenuous hold you have on your consciousness, strand after strand snapping until you’re barely hanging on.
“Spencer,” you repeat, slurring as you try to shut your legs. “Please, can’t, baby.”
“You could,” he says, sitting up and closing your useless legs for you, massaging the weak muscles. “You’ve done more.”
“Mm-mm,” you disagree, chest rising and falling as your breathing slows. “Don’t wanna.”
“That’s okay, angel. I’m not gonna force you.”
You sigh, obviously satisfied. “That felt really good.”
“I bet it did,” he chuckles, finally moving to lay down next to you. Immediately you curl up to him, and he smooths your skirt back down before tracing soothing patterns on the leg you’ve slung over him. “You’re so cute.”
“Don’t go spreading it around.”
“Never,” he promises, mocking but in good nature. The two of you lay in comfortable silence for a few moments, as you consider his decidedly unsatisfying answer.
“You’re not even a little scared of me?”
He smoothes your hair away from your eyes.
“No, honey, I’m not. But I’m sure other people find you utterly terrifying.”
You open your eyes to regard him ruefully, before they narrow again.
“You have a little something...” you begin, gesturing to your mouth. He snorts.
“Oh, do I?”
#criminal minds#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#spencer reid smut#criminal minds smut
5K notes
·
View notes
Note
i had another idea for dad!james. who sometimes has to work late and reader helps take care of henry. he comes home and sees her reading henry a story before bed. he’s just heart eyes the whole time 🤎
Dad!James Potter x Bsf!Reader ☼ 1125 words
series masterlist ; main masterlist
By the time James gets home, he’s exhausted. He didn’t plan to be this late, but sometimes his job demands it. He feels fortunate that you’re the one watching Henry tonight. If it had been the babysitter, she would have told him “tough luck” and left, as she never likes staying late when James’s work keeps him beyond schedule. He understands her frustration; it’s not fair to expect her to stay late without notice. But coming home to you and Henry is always a comfort.
He longs to kick off his shoes by the door, savoring the relief of stretching his toes. A hot shower to wash away the stress and changing into his cozy sweats are next on his list. Yet, more than anything, he looks forward to seeing his two favorite people: Henry, with his innocent, sleepy smile, and you, with your warm, comforting presence.
You truly embody comfort for him.
James will never admit it, but the nights you watch Henry while he works late are his favorite. Dinner is always kept warm for him in the oven, filling the kitchen with a delicious, welcoming aroma. The lamps he never uses are on because you insist they make the house cozier, casting a soft, inviting glow over the living room. And seeing your jacket and shoes tucked right next to his and Henry’s is one of his favorite sights—a simple yet profound reminder of home.
You take care of the little things that mean so much, like tidying up Henry’s toys and leaving a packed lunch for James in the fridge for the next day. Those lunches are the only ones he looks forward to, knowing that if he makes them himself, they’ll just be leftovers from Henry’s daycare lunches. You never prepare Henry’s lunches, understanding how much James values the tradition of leaving him a note. Although Henry can’t read it yet, Hilary at daycare always makes sure to read it to him.
The moment he opens the front door, a lovesick smile spreads across his face. There, by the door, are your coat and boots—essential for braving the London winter. As he steps inside, the familiar aroma of his favorite pasta dish fills the air, welcoming him home.
He locks the door behind him and sets his belongings down near the entryway. The house is neat and quiet, with the lamps providing a softer, more pleasant light than the harsh overheads. The faint aroma of pasta still lingers, adding to the relaxed atmosphere. He’s pretty sure the house never smells this good after he makes dinner.
As he heads up the stairs, he hears your voice animatedly reading Henry a bedtime story. Every now and then, Henry’s giggles punctuate the scene, and James imagines the dramatic pauses you take, flashing playful glances at him. He moves quietly, not wanting to interrupt, but he wants to take a moment to savor the sight of you reading to his son. The feeling he gets seeing you with Henry is something he knows he might never experience with anyone else.
He knows that someday things will change. You’ll find someone else, fall in love, and soon you won’t have the time to spend evenings at his house reading to his son. The thought of that future makes James feel uneasy.
For now, he leans quietly against the doorframe of Henry’s room, watching as you recline against the headboard of Henry’s small toddler bed, with Henry snuggled up next to you. Your hair is swept back, and you’re wearing a pair of sleep shorts that are a size too small, which always drives James a little crazy. He suppresses a smile when he notices you’re wearing one of his shirts—probably another forgotten piece from your own wardrobe. It happens often, but James remains oblivious to the fact that it might be intentional.
Henry’s head rests gently on the side of your upper stomach, his little hand clutching his stuffed dragon tightly to his chest. His brows are furrowed in deep concentration, and James can see the joy in his son’s eyes as he listens intently to the story. The soft glow from the bedside lamp washes over both of you: Henry’s tiny form curled up against you, his breaths steady and rhythmic, and you, fully immersed in the book, your voice animated and soothing.
James adjusts his glasses slightly, trying to avoid interrupting the moment. But as he moves, Henry’s gaze shoots up, and his face instantly lights up with a wide grin. “Daddy!” he exclaims with a burst of excitement, his voice filled with pure joy.
“That does look a bit like Daddy, doesn’t it?” you say, tilting your head as you examine the book with a playful grin.
“What does, darling?” James asks as he steps into the room, his voice warm but tinged with curiosity. He gives up trying to stay inconspicuous once Henry spots him. Your eyes widen in surprise, your expression shifting from surprise to a hint of embarrassment as you look up. The soft light from the bedside lamp illuminates your face, revealing the genuine shock.
“Jamie! You scared me.”
“I’m sorry. I thought you two might be asleep, so I tried to come in quietly.” It’s a half-truth, but you don’t press the matter.
“I suppose it’s getting a bit late, isn’t it?” You glance at the clock and wince. “Let’s finish this page and then get some rest, okay?”
“Daddy, you listen too.” Henry’s tiny hand reaches out and pats the bed, his eyes shining with anticipation. James fights back a grin, recognizing the familiar gesture. Whenever you want James or Henry to sit beside you, you pat the spot next to you just like that.
“There isn’t much room, buddy,” James says gently. Henry’s face falls into a small frown, clearly disappointed.
“You hold darling, like she holds me.” Henry pouts, and James knows he’s about to get what he wants in the most endearing way only a three-year-old can manage. “Darling”—the nickname James has always used for you and that Henry now affectionately calls you too.
James’s eyes flicker to yours, and you shrug with a smile, adjusting Henry in your arms to make space for him. As James shifts onto the too-small bed, his heart pounds with affection. You lean back against his chest, sending him a soft, reassuring smile over your shoulder.
The simple gesture nearly causes him to go into cardiac arrest.
Henry lets out a joyful giggle before snatching the book from your hands and starting to “read” it on his own. James glances down at the illustration of the friendly brown bear wearing wire-rimmed glasses, holding its cub close, and snorts softly.
So that’s how you see him.
please reblog or comment with your thoughts! they are very appreciated and keep me motivated to keep writing! 🤍
#dad!james and bsf!reader universe#dad!james potter x reader#dad!james potter#james potter headcanon#james potter fic#james potter oneshot#james potter fanfiction#james potter x fem!reader#james potter x y/n#james potter x reader#james potter x you#james potter baby blurb#james potter blurb#the marauders era#marauders fic
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi! Can i request friends for lovers with lando saying "i can't seem to take neither my eyes, nor my mind off of you, [name]." ✨🫶 thank you
usually i am so Consumed by the idea of the ✨Tension✨ of friends to lovers that i never do a confession scene but here is me making good on that finally. i hope u liked this anon!!!! sorry it took a while.
In hindsight, you think you should have woken up that morning and known. Known via some cosmic force that today was going to be it— the day you’d been waiting basically a decade for, the day you don't think you'll forget as long as you live—
Instead, you wake up bolt upright at three in the morning, heart beating frantic in your chest, to five missed calls from your best friend.
"What?", you groan, angry, into the phone, then, realising he's calling you at three in the morning, a more concerned note seeps into your tone, "Lan, is that you? You alright?"
"I locked myself out," is the gravelly reply.
"You locked yourself out?"
"I— yes," he hisses down the line, "I forgot my keys okay."
You snort, say, "You're a silly billy," without thinking anything of it.
You'll attribute it to sleep deprivation later, but you'll also find that Lando thinks nothing further of it, too used to you throwing affectionate nicknames his way—
"Shuddup," he mumbles.
You think he's drunk, at least tipsy. He'd said something offhandedly on your FaceTime call yesterday about going out with a few friends you don't know. Besides, there's a slur to his words, a tiredness.
"Come up already," you tell him.
"'M right outside."
You hum in confirmation that you've heard him, put your phone back on the nightstand and slip out from under the covers. You're wearing a sweatshirt that's three sizes too big it might be Lando's and pink fuzzy socks, you feel goosebumps rise on your legs as you pad to the front door. You lean heavily against the wall, closing your eyes as you unlock the padlock and swing it open for your friend.
Lando stumbles in. You twist around to look at him. He's not as drunk as you thought he might be. Sleepy though. You can tell by the squint of his eyes, how they're red rimmed and the mess of his hair. Run through too many times with his hand.
"You want your spare key?", you question as Lando turns on his heel, finding you at the sound of your voice.
He frowns, looking at you like you've grown two heads. Crease forming between his eyebrows.
"Nuh," he shakes his head, then reaches forward to take your wrist, hauling you back through the apartment, "Let's go sleep."
You shrug, acquiescing as he leads you to your bedroom. If you hadn't just been woken up from a dead sleep you might have felt a little weird about it. Paid attention to the stirring feeling low in your gut. Instead, you slip into bed and pull the covers back for Lando without a care in the world.
It's not that weird, you think as he kicks off his shoes and rummages around on your hanging rail for a shirt big enough for him. He finds one that you're sure was originally his. You look away as he changes, shucking out of the short sleeve button up you'd helped him pick out, peeling off chinos you'd also picked out. There's a pair of his gym shorts laying around somewhere, you know it— but he doesn't bother to look for them. Just pulls the t-shirt on over his bare tan chest and climbs in next to you.
You've done this before. Many times. And the two of you make a deliberate point of not being weird about, even though it's been a point of contention in every relationship either of you have had to date. And you don't know what it is tonight this morning, but his presence next to you is making your chest tight. Something skitters up your spine as he slots into your space.
As casual as ever he slings an arm over your waist, tugs you closer to him and presses the line of his nose into the back of your neck. Briefly, he reaches to swipe your hair out of the way, mumbling something about it tickling him.
There's something set ablaze in your stomach.
"G'night, babe," he mutters, breath fanning your ear.
God. You have to suppress a shiver. The babe thing isn't even anything different, he calls you that often enough mostly when he's had something to drink, there's just something about it right now. When you're sleep-woozy and he's just undressed in front of you. Maybe you had a weird dream about him again and you can't remember it, even if your subconscious does.
You bite down on your tongue, answer, "Sleep tight, Lan."
He hums. You crack your neck to stop from letting out a noise that would be utterly indecent right now. Unaware, Lando puts his nose right back in the same spot. You lie there for a while, wired and buzzing, until you hear his breathing steady and deepen as he falls asleep. And even though you feel like every nerve ending in your body is on fire, sleep finds you too.
You wake up again, later, to the morning sun pouring in through your curtains. It lights up the empty space on the bed in front of you. Acreage of bed, pillow, not taken up by anyone.
Still, on your other side, Lando's in your personal space to a degree that you don't realise at first. You wake up disoriented, grappling to remember the events of early that morning. There’s still no cosmic thing telling you that you need to remember today. Commit every single second to memory as it happens. You try to roll over, feeling warmth at your back but not thinking anything of it until Lando gripes something unintelligible into your ear—
Okay. Memories return to you now.
You start to contextualise the skin on yours.
Lando's arm is still slung around your waist, but his hand has made it's way underneath your jumper. Fingers dig into the plush skin of your bare stomach, clutching like you'll slip out of his grasp if he's not careful. Somehow, the other arm has forced it's way under your pillow and you can feel the line of his body against your back, where he's gotten as close to you as he could manage. His legs tangle with yours, one of them spreading out into your space, strewn diagonally across the bed. His knee presses up into the meat of your thigh.
You try not to think how easily your bodies fit together.
You're still for a while. Drifting in and out of sleep. You're comfortable, above all else. You don't really want Lando to move. This certainly isn't the first time you've woken up like this, tangled up with each other, you're betting you'll be able to pass it off with a silly comment once Lando wakes up. You'll extract yourselves from each other and get on with your day like usual.
No big deal—
Lando wakes up half an hour or so later and acts like nothing out of the ordinary had happened. He yawns loudly into your ear and rolls over without fanfare—
No big deal—
It's only when you're in the kitchen together— cooking bacon and eggs while Lando drinks coffee from your espresso machine— that the cracks start to show.
You glance at him sideways, watching as he gnaws at the inside of his mouth. His eyes slip off you, directing to the sizzling pan, “What’s up?”, you ask, “Something happen?”
He shakes his head, too quickly, “No. Nope— I—”
He tapers off his sentence, shaking his head. Nose scrunching momentarily. You raise an eyebrow but don’t think much of it. It’s Lando, he’ll tell you if it’s important. Plus, you’re kinda busy right now making sure the eggs don’t burn. A few minutes pass, you ask him to grab plates. He says okay and then drags out an,
“Um,” for so long that you’re a little concerned.
Something nervous flutters in your chest, you’re turning the heat on the burner down low before you know why. You’ve just been friends with Lando for so long, you know when there’s something heavy in his words, when there’s something on the tip of his tongue.
You turn to give him your full attention, your eyebrows furrowing as you look up at him.
“Plates, Lan?”
He’s staring at you. Like, staring at you. Like, slack-jawed, eyes glittering, staring. Like how the guy looks at the girl at the end of every rom-com ever. Like how Harry looks at Sally in every fucking scene of your favourite movie of all time. Like—
Shit. Do you have a massive fuck off pimple on your face? Have you turned blue? Are you being completely out of your mind delusional right now? Because there’s something suddenly wreaking havoc in your stomach. And you really do want to believe that Lando is looking at you in that way, and not just because you’ve got something embarrassing on your face—
“Lando,” you say, firmly, urgency to it, “Spit it out.”
He shakes his head.
You put a hand on his bicep, “Lando.”
It’s got to be that. It’s got to be—
God, your chest feels tight. Your skin feels like it’s on fire. He’s not even said anything yet!
It’s got to be—
He blinks. You think your sudden intensity has made him nervous because he rolls his shoulders and cracks his neck from side to side. A little groan escapes his lips.
“I just—” he sighs heavily, as if it’s too hard to force out; but he’s still looking at you, “What if, I was— ugh, no, nothing, it’s fine—”
“What if you were what?”, it’s out of your mouth before you can think. You think you know exactly what the end of his sentence is. You think perhaps you are too. A pause, then, being braver than you thought you could be, you add, “In love with me?”
He looks immediately as if you’ve sucker punched him right in the gut. Eyes wide and wet and red-rimmed, like kicked puppy, a pleading dog. There’s something scared, nervous, in the set of his shoulders as well. You watch them draw up to his chin as he tries to sink into them.
“Why would you say that?” His voice is downright panicked, “How did you know that?”
Your heart stops beating in your chest, drops into your stomach and falls right out your ass. You shake your head,
“I didn’t. I didn’t. I just guessed, Lan,” you realise your hand is still on his bicep, you squeeze, “Are you?”
“Am I?”, he looks slightly incredulous, baffled at what you’re saying like it’s supposed to be obvious that he is, “Jesus. Of course I am. I can’t– I can’t stop thinking about you. You’re there all the time. And y’know, I see you and you’re just,” he waves an arm between the two of you, gesturing up and down at your body, “You’re fucken’ gorgeous. And you don’t say a thing when we wake up together and I’m basically, on top of you—”
“You don’t say anything either,” you gripe, even though there’s something like joy clawing up your throat, “I thought it was normal.”
Lando tips his head back, groans something halfway filthy, “Normal. I didn’t let half my exes sleep over, and I turned around if they did sleep in my bed. And— fuck, y’know— my keys are actually in my pants pocket right now. I was out drinking and having fun and all I could think about was how much I missed you. How much I just wanted to like, crawl into bed with you.”
“You arsehole.”
“What?”
“You arsehole,” you repeat, “I would have let you in anyway. You didn’t have to lie.”
For a long minute, Lando gapes at you like a fish out of water. Briefly, you think maybe you’ve screwed it by being too mean. It’s never stopped you before, but you’ve also never been in this exact situation with Lando before, frighteningly enough—
One second you’re running through all the possible apologies you could give to make it better, to smooth it all over, and then the next Lando is kissing you—
Or, you feel his hand on your chin first, your mouth forming the first letter of shit, sorry Lan, and then suddenly his mouth is slanting across yours. He tastes a bit like morning breath and a lot like bitter coffee, but his mouth is wet and soft and your lips slot together so perfectly. You put a hand in his curls and find that it feels different to when you card your fingers through his hair.
God.
He’s got a hand on your waist and he’s digging his fingers into your jaw like you’re going to pull away from him without warning and never come back.
“Lan,” you say into his mouth, he pauses long enough for you to speak, lips hovering, nearly touching, “‘M not going anywhere.”
He shakes his head, slanting forward to kiss you again, “No, you’re not,” he pulls back again, pressing his forehead to yours, green-as-grass eyes boring into yours, “Please say you’re in love with me right now?”
Despite yourself, you raise an eyebrow, “Are you in love with me?”
He sighs something ragged out through his nose, kisses you again, says, “‘Course, I’m in love with you. How could I not be,” into your mouth.
You hum from the back of your throat, tongue slipping forward to press against his teeth, tangling against his, “Then of course I am, Lan,” you echo.
How could you not be?
u just know all of lando's gfs/situationships HATED the fuck out of her
873 notes
·
View notes
Text
EVEN IN OTHER UNIVERSES, I LOVE YOU. — aaron taylor-johnson
In which you came home tired from work and only just wanted to lay down on your shared-bed with your husband. Only to see five different version of said husband.
note: hello! So I have come to write another one shot or fic or whatever you call it because I couldn't help myself but write this new idea I thought of. I do hope you enjoy!
warnings!: none because we fluffy today pookie.
__________________
Sighing tiredly you let out a groan as you took a small break in your car, resting your head on the steering wheel as you closed your eyes for a few moments.
You just finished your work from helping your director write the script for the next movie you're starring. You see, you've been an actress in the industry for a long time now and even though it's tiring you continue to work through it as it is your passion. Plus, it's where you met your lovable and handsome husband. A fellow well-known actor in the industry.
The director asked for your help because you had experience in directing as well as a degree for it. So hence why you also came home late while your husband went ahead after a bit of your persuasion. Thinking of your husband, you smiled fondly. How can you be so lucky to have such a man?
While you were taking a small break from your car, said husband was sweating profusely in the kitchen with a spatula in hand while wearing a pink apron.
Looking at the five males in front of him, Aaron cursed underneath his breath.
"Fuck me."
The gate opened automatically after scanning your car's number plate. Before driving in reverse towards the garage door. Humming a soft tune you put the car on park and grabbed everything you need from the car before coming out of it.
Opening the door connected to the kitchen, you took off your shoes and hanged your coat on the hanger before calling out to your husband with a bright smile.
"Honey, I'm home!" Your smile slowly turned into worry as you were greeted by nothing. Usually you were greeted by a beaming charming smile as well as a giant hug lifting you off from your feet while being spun around by your husband.
Where could he be?
"Aaron? You there?" In slight worry you walked around the first floor of the house searching for your husband, but alas there was no sign so you moved upstairs.
There was a thump in one of the rooms when you were in the middle of walking on the stairs making you feel worry and fear when you heard a voice groaning as well as cursing. Your mind was running in a fast pace as you run up from the stairs towards the source of those noises.
No it can't be, please tell me he didn't—
The scene in front of you shocked you. The noises stopped as the figures looked at you in silence.
"Love, I can explain—" Aaron was the first to break the silence with his hands up as if he was trying not to anger you. And let me tell you, you do not want an angry wife at you.
However, instead of an angry wife. You looked like you were about to cry. You see, another thing about you is that you are quite an open and very sensitive person. Your legs gave up as you collapsed on the floor, tears running down your face as your exhaustion mixed with your anxiety was not a good combination right now.
"I—i thought you were with a w-woman—" you stuttered as your husband immediately went over you to put you in his embrace the moment your knees buckled whispering praises as well as reassurance to you. Desperately trying to calm you down. He knew you were very tired since it's about ten in the evening by now and he supposes that the noises he and the others made, made you think of something else.
His heart broke just by thinking he was doing things to another woman other than you, he cannot and will never do such a thing to you. He loves you too much to do so.
The five other male in the room looked at the scene in front of them, disbelief clear in their faces as they looked at your figure. Hearts beating uncontrollably as the younger looking male in the room muttered a name.
Your name.
This made all of you to snap your heads up to the male. Now that you look at it, they all looked just like your husband. No, actually all of them are your husband. No one can impersonate your husband unless it's your husband himself, his face is too unique to be able to copy.
"Why are there five more of you?"
Now that the situation has calmed down, you, your husband and five more of him sat in the living room in silence. Assessing the situation.
"So you're telling me that you, Dave was getting beaten up almost to death before coming here? James, you got here when you were stuck by Voldemort. Alexei, got here when you fell from your horse at full speed, head first. Tangerine, you got here after getting shot on the neck trying to kill the White Death's child and Pietro, you got shot multiple times by saving Clint from dying? Have I summarized it correctly?" You summarized outloud as the others nodded to confirm your statement. You sighed as both you and your husband looked at each other, not knowing what to do since unlike some of their worlds, you guys don't have the power to bring them back to theirs. But they all don't seem like they're hurt from their explanations. Maybe it's cuz they're in a different world.
"What were you doing before I barged in the room?" You asked your husband who looked everywhere but you.
"I was trying to give them some clothes, Dave, Pietro and James was the only one who accepted it but the other two wanted something that fit their styles." Aaron sighed as he took a sip at the coffee he made since it was getting late. He really thinks that you should rest first and let him handle it though.
"Sorry gentlemen, but it's quite late in the evening and I would like to take a nap and rest. We will take care of this tomorrow." You sent them a tired smile as you stood up from your seat and towards your bedroom upstairs, leaving all six of them in the room.
As soon as you were out of hearing range, Aaron's expression turned cold as he looked at Dave. Even if he knew the kid wouldn't hurt his wife because he played his character years ago, he will still not let loose his guard. Dave flinched from the glare and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly while the others stared at him the same way as Aaron, that's weird.
"How do you know my wife?"
This made the men's eyes go wide. Wife? That made them collectively let out a sigh of relief. Wife..
"She's also your wife?" James asked Aaron, it's kind of weird talking to yourself as he looked at the older one in wonder.
"also?" Aaron questioned.
"Yea, I mean. In my universe I married her and had Harry after we got married at twenty-one." James enthusiastically explained as his face brightened up when talking about his lover.
"Uh.. she's my girlfriend in my universe too." Dave lifted up his hand awkwardly. Though you can see that he is also happy to announce that you are his lover.
"I'm also her lover when I have escaped Hydra with my twin sister." Pietro said with a charming smile, his face brightening up whenever he mentioned his wife.
"I'm married to'er in my universe. Doll, was the only one who accepted me other than my brother." Tangerine uttered out as he lit up a cigarette before puffing it out the smoke from his mouth, where he got that from? I don't know and neither does the others.
"...she is my affair, my lover that I intend to protect with all of my soul. The only maiden who saw me for me and not some viscount." Alexei said as his eyes were clouded with the memories of his lover. Ah, how he longed to be in her arms again.
"All of us are her lovers in another universe, huh?" Aaron sighed out, his smile coming out as he thought that even in different versions of himself, he chooses you and is still with you. It makes him sigh in content and happiness as he is assured that no matter what happens, he is still with you in the end.
"Even in every other universes, I love you." All men uttered out, the atmosphere becoming serene as they sat in a few moments of silence.
Warmth filled their chests as the leaned back in their seats as their thoughts only circled in one subject.
You.
#aaron taylor johnson x reader#aaron taylor johnson#tangerine#tangerine x reader#james potter x reader#james potter#dave lizewski#kick ass#alexei vronsky#count vronsky x reader#count vronsky#anna karenina#pietro maximoff#pietro maximoff x reader#marvel
627 notes
·
View notes
Text
dilf!art being father of the bride and you being lily’s maid of honor. *evil smile*
you could hear your new year’s resolution to stop smoking laughing at you as you stood outside the wedding reception.
lily had gotten married earlier that day and it was beautiful ceremony but the stress of making sure none of the bridesmaids made drank too much at the bachelorette party, yelling at flower delivery guys and keeping lily a happy bride to be had gotten to you. being a maid of honor/wedding planner was hard and you desperately needed a cigarette.
“hey.” you jumped at the sound of a deep voice, placing your free hand on your fast beating heart. “holy shit, mr. d. you fucking scared me.” art walked to stand beside you, he had ditched his black suit jacket and was only wearing a white button with the sleeves rolled up and his veiny arms on display. you tried not to stare.
“sorry, didn’t mean to scare you i was just looking to get some air.” he apologized. “it’s fine.” the two of you stood silently next to each other.
art cleared his throat. “do you mind if i…?” he pointed to the cigarette hanging from your lips. you shook your head, your fingers brushed together when you passes him the cigarette. art brought is to his mouth and took a deep inhale. you watched his head fall back as he blew out the smoke. “you did a good job with planning, everything looks amazing.” art’s voice tore you out of your trace of staring at his neck. “huh? oh, thanks. i’m seriously considering giving up my degree to do this full time.” you joked, taking the cigarette back from art, which earned you a chuckle from him.
the two of you stayed like that for awhile, passing the cigarette back and forth making small conversation. the lipstick you left on the orange end lightly staining arts lips. “so, how come you didn’t bring with a date?” the question was a little personal but you were nosy. “well….” he rocked back and forth a little on his heels. “i don’t know, i guess i just didn’t have anyone to bring.” he shrugged. “how come?” at this point you were genuinely curious, i mean tashi his ex wife had even brought a date.
art sighed. “don’t know if you noticed but i’ve kinda aged out of the dating scene.” he mumbled. you scoffed shaking your head. “what? you look really good for your age. you’ve probably got girls lining up to get in your bed. bet you don’t even need pill to get it up.” you even don’t realize what you’ve said until you said. “i mean, i’d still do you.” you really were just trying to make him feel better but you ended up hitting on him.
“you’d still do me?” he repeated laughing.
“w-well yeah. you’ve got the whole hot dad thing going on and you were like the first guy i had a wet dream about.” you rambled digging the heel of shoe into the ground below you. “really?” he asked. you could feel his eyes burning into you. you lifted your head to look at him. “yeah.” art brought his thumb up to scratch his bottom lip giving you a look, a look you understood and gave back.
you don’t know how but the two of you ended up in the back of his truck. your bridesmaid dress sitting in the passengers seat of his car as you worked to get the belt of his pants off.
art’s hands were rough and calloused on your soft skin as he ran them up your body to grope your boobs through your strapless bra. art presses kisses down your throat and on top of your breast. you finally get his belt undone and he lifts his hips to make sliding his pants and underwear down easier.
your eyes widen at the sight below you. “fuck.” you wanted it in your mouth but there wasn’t time for foreplay. “do you still wanna do this?” art asked, his blue eyes that had slight wrinkles on the sides of them looked into yours. “hell yeah.” you nodded your head leaning down to put your lips on his. art’s hands come up to hold your jaw forcing his tongue in your mouth when it fell open sighing as you sank down onto his thick cock.
“oh my god.” you both moaned. not bothering to get use to the stretch, you put you hands on art’s shoulders and started to bounce up and down slowly picking up the speed. “you’re so gorgeous.” art kissed and sucked at whatever skin he could find. “fucking yourself on me so well.” your head fell back and your loud moans filled up the car. “wanted this for so long mr. d.” you whined, legs started to ache so you stop bouncing to just grind your hips back and forth. art wrapped his big arms around your waist pulling your chest fully against his as you bucked his hip up, fucking you hard. “fuck, call me art.”
“artartartartartartart.” you muttered into his ear. your nails dug into his shoulder and your moans got louder and whiny the closer you got. “gonna cum.” art grunted, one of his hands leaving your waist you thumb over your clit. “it’s ok i’m on the pill.” art didn’t pass up the opportunity of cumming inside you, immediately painting your inner walls when you squeezed him particularly tight. soon you’re cumming with a quiet scream into his neck.
art lets you stay in his lap for a while as he strokes your hair and places kisses on your face before you catch sight of the time on his rolex. “shit, i have to give my speech soon.” you pull off letting art’s soft cock slip out of you. art hands you some napkins to clean yourself up before zipping you back into your dress. “i really enjoy this.” you said leaning against his car. “yeah, me too.” he answered. you gave him a smile before walking back into the reception hall.
“hey, where were you was about to go look for you.” lily says to you when you approach her table. “just maid of honor duties.” you lied to her, feeling like a terrible friend. “ok.” she smiled brightly at you. oh god, you were definitely going to hell and lily would be the one to send you if she ever found out you fucked her dad.
428 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi!!! I just read your Wonka fics and they're all so sweet and I love them so much. I was wondering if I could request a certain fic? Here me out,,,,
So basically since there were only 6 bedrooms at the laundry place, the reader had their own room before Willy came but once he came the reader got switched to share rooms with Noodle since that's who they're closest too. The reader doesn't have their own bed for a few days until after they slowly(?) get closer to Willy, and build up the courage to walk to Willy's room in the middle of the night and ask to sleep with him. Nothing but sweet fluff.
Bonus points if Noodle catches them cuddling the next morning while they're asleep. :)))
Midnight Encounters [W. W]
Willy Wonka x fem!reader
word count: 2.2k
note: first, I have to say that I LOVED this as soon as I read it. I'm honestly afraid I haven't done this wonderful idea justice, so whoever asked for this, I'm very grateful. This is my favorite so far!
taglist: @dyieying @reallysparklychaos [Timothée masterlist]
Scrubitt's wonderful building only had six rooms, and when a seventh guest (a forced worker, actually) arrived, you had to figure out a way to make it work. You and Noodle had no problem sharing a place due to your familiarity and that, of course, you were the youngest, to give the new laundry employee a bed of his own.
Mr. Wonka was a most peculiar man, who had gained your attention immediately and, as the days passed, also your affection. It was something like love at first sight, if there was such a thing, and you didn't know if it was due to his charismatic personality, his beauty, or his completely dreamy aura that had captivated you. Whatever it was, it was clear that every time he approached you let out a nervous sigh and he seemed to react the same way to your presence; somehow you knew he felt the same way, you didn't even know why, you just felt it.
A good amount of time passed, enough for the two of you to share stories in the long hours you had to spend working, and trust was added to the list of things between you. You thought that the bond that was born between you could also be because you two were similar in age compared to the rest, who were younger or older. You suddenly started to enjoy chatting with him, he became the first one you looked for in the crowd and you also allowed him to help you from time to time, even if it was small things, just to be with him a little more.
That was why that night, after thinking about it for so many hours, you slipped out of your shared bed with Noodle, ready to go out through the hallway in search of a little warmth to shelter you while you slept. Because if anything was true, it was that the little girl's room had always been colder than yours and you weren’t a person particularly fond of this condition. On the contrary, you would say that as soon as a little wind blew through the window your entire body was already shaking in protest, to the point that it had become unbearable to live through it.
You advanced automatically and when you reached the door of your old room there was a second of hesitation, where all the possible results for what you were about to do passed through your mind; some were more favorable than others, however, you knew that you wouldn't find out what was really going to happen until you dared to cross into the room. Would Willy be upset? you asked yourself. You just hoped you didn't scare him.
You carefully turned the knob, which had once been gold but was now only copper, and you were thankful that it didn't have a lock. There was definitely no time to chicken out, you knew when you watched the boy curled up on the bed move slightly, as if the air that had sneaked in through the door had bothered him.
You noticed that he was wearing only his light white shirt and a pair of pants, without shoes or socks. There was a certain vulnerability in the scene, almost like an invitation for you to take a couple of steps and simply slip into his arms and sleep peacefully. How would he feel? Would his skin be soft? Cozy? Would that grip be enough to help you get your long-awaited rest?
You closed the door behind you and the soft click it made was enough to wake the man, as if that had warned him of the intruder who had sneaked into his room. He sat bolt upright on the bed and squinted to peer through the darkness.
"Who is it?"
“It's me, Willy” you responded and upon hearing your voice he visibly relaxed. However, when he asked himself the reason for your nocturnal visit, he returned to alert state.
"What happened? Everything is alright?"
You had no valid reason to be there. Or maybe you had it, but it wasn't something you could explain to the man without exposing yourself, or exposing your feelings. Even if that were the case, you thought that it would sound absurd to confess to him that you were there just because you wanted to discover what it felt like to have him close to you, to feel his breath close to your face, to be sheltered by his body...
“Y/N?” he spoke again, probably because he thought you hadn't heard him the first time. He was afraid it was an emergency so you were there, not imagining anything of what was going through your head.
You finally found your voice, deep inside your chest, and were able to offer him an answer:
"I'm cold"
You honestly didn't know what else to say and deep down you hoped that was enough, but even so, Willy got up still sleepy and stumbled to reach you.
“Oh, do you need a blanket?” he asked, while he could put his hands at your sides, holding your arms. His curls were messy and there were traces of sleep on his face. “Or would you prefer that I change rooms with you and Noodle? I wouldn't mind, although you should have told me before. If I had known, I could…”
"May I stay here?" you interrupted him. Your voice was a whisper in the darkness and he was still holding you, looking down at you with slight concern “With you?”
For a second he thought he was hearing you wrong and if he had heard correctly, he thought that perhaps he had not understood what you were trying to tell him. You looked disheveled and wore lighter clothing than usual, but he couldn't help but notice the innocence that bathed your face. You looked so pure and pretty that he felt dizzy, which only increased at the possibility that you were suggesting sleeping there; in the same bed… together.
“Huh… Are you sure?” he asked and instantly felt stupid. He just hoped it wouldn't scare you away.
“I guess I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t, right?” you replied, a smile escaping your lips. Suddenly the thought of him not wanting this came to your mind, realizing that it was completely valid “But if you don't want…”
“No,” he murmured, taking his turn to interrupt you. “It's okay if you want to stay here, I don't mind. I also feel a little cold”
If that was just to make you feel better, it didn't matter, after all you knew from the look on you that he wanted to do this just as much as you did. Well, it was that and the way his hand moved up your arm until it reached your face, where he brushed away a chunk of your hair and then kindly caressed your cheek. It was a gentle, loving, and sincere touch.
Without waiting any longer, you walked between the buckets that stopped the leaks and the man followed you obediently, until the two of you were sitting on the mattress. It was small and worn, with barely enough room for a body to move freely, there was a thin blanket over it and a pillow that covered the entire length of the headboard.
“You look tired,” you pointed out, feeling a slight guilt for having snatched him from his sleep.
“I am a little,” he replied, while he yawned and rubbed one eye as if he wanted to corroborate what he was saying.
You wanted to have the courage to grab his face and kiss him right there, but you didn't dare; it had been too much, you had to control your impulses or you would end up scaring the poor boy to death.
“We have to sleep, then”
Willy motioned for you to take the inside of the bed and when you were lying down he imitated you, forced by the lack of space to position himself a few centimeters from your entire body. You felt small, not physically, but metaphorically, and his attentive gaze and playful expression didn't help much.
"Are you comfortable?"
“Mjm,” you hummed affirmatively.
You felt him stir next to you and then he spread the blanket over you, hoping that would ease whatever had ailed you in the first place. One of his hands began to move down and up your arm in an attempt to give you a little more warmth, which worked perfectly after a few seconds. You felt so spoiled by him.
You were silent for a moment, in which he didn’t dare to look at you for fear that you could read in his expression how nervous he had become. He didn’t expect your visit and feared he was dreaming, although his hand touching you kept him certain that this wasn’t the case.
“I assume I was your first choice for this, was I?”
“You were my only option” you relieved, in a low voice. You weren't going to lie to him, if you had already managed to sneak between his sheets you wanted him to know that you were only thinking about him “I thought your arms would be warm. And I think I wasn’t wrong”
Almost as if your words had been an incentive, he closed the distance even more, placing one of his arms under your head so you could use it as a pillow and using the other to surround your body. Your face felt red and you thought you would die of embarrassment, but instead you just buried your head in his chest. He smelled like chocolate and soap.
“Hey,” he whispered suddenly and you pulled your head out of its comfortable spot to respond.
"Yeah?"
Again he surprised you when you felt that you received a fluffy kiss on the forehead before an answer, managing to add even more color to the skin of your cheeks.
“I just wanted to see your face. Rest"
Would it be possible not to when you were sheltered by such a sweet man, who held you with the care of holding a piece of porcelain? You highly doubted it, to be honest.
Your response was only your arm stretching out from the blanket that covered you to surround his waist and thus become practically fused with him. It didn't take you long to feel the full weight of fatigue settling on you and thanks to the rhythmic beat of his heart, you fell completely asleep, now without a single problem to be able to rest.
In your dreams you thought you heard his voice, but you couldn't make out what he was telling you, and at some point during the night you tangled your legs with his, thus eliminating any remains of the distance you had with him.
Very early in the morning Noodle soon noticed that someone was missing in bed, and although at first she thought you had just decided to get up a little early, she got worried when she went out to look for you and couldn't find you anywhere. The girl wondered if something had happened to you, if you had escaped or even if the mistress had locked you in the closet, just like she did with her. She thought that she had to tell someone about your absence and then she believed that the best candidate would be Willy, because she knew that he would share her concern and help her look for you without any complaints.
She crossed the hallway with her bare feet until she reached the boy's room and once there, she knocked on the door twice.
“Willy?” she called out to him, but there was no answer. That's why she knocked two more times “Willy? Are you there?"
Noodle waited a few seconds for the door to open, but it didn't, and that worried the girl again. What if he had disappeared too? She didn't want to waste time and to find out she turned the doorknob, expecting to see an empty room. But her surprise was great when she looked at what was really behind the door.
It was obvious that the blows had woken the man, so when he looked directly at her he had already put a finger to his mouth to tell her to keep quiet. The girl noticed that there was a bundle curled up next to him, holding him firmly and with its head buried in the crook of his neck, but she opened her eyes widely when she recognized the pattern of the pants that was under the sheet.
At least the problem of your whereabouts had been solved.
"Is…?"
“Yes, but she's asleep,” Willy responded quickly, whispering, “Be good and let her rest, okay? There is still a little while before the laundry opens.”
She nodded, confused and surprised, and waved goodbye to him, closing the door carefully. Noodle smiled to herself as she returned to her room, while she thought that, with any luck, from now on it would be someone else who would have to share the bed with you.
#wonka 2023#willy wonka x reader#wonka x reader#wonka movie#timothee chalamet#timothee chalamet x reader#timothee x reader#willy wonka#roald dahl#wonka fanfic#willy wonka 2023#wonka fanfiction#wonka x fem reader
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
‘fill the void’_ hamzahthefantastic
summary: hamzah has been busy with the channel and misses you so much, so when you finally have time together, you kinda make it up to him.
warning: sub!hamzah, guided masturbation, lowkey cum eating, kinda gross, fluff and praise.
>_<
hamzah’s right leg bounces up and down in a desperate manner, erratic and anxious.
brown eyes shaky and glossy as he anticipates your company, your mere existence next to his. he bites his lip hard enough to wince but not that hard to draw blood.
as the elevator is taking way too long for his liking, he rolls his eyes and practically sprints up the stairs.
bad idea, oh god. –he thinks to himself, slowing down his pace as he gets to the third floor. two more floors to reach your shared flat.
the anticipation grows inside his belly, excitement even, to finally see you after such a long day. fuck, he misses you. badly. so badly.
as he fumbles with the keys, a groan escapes his lips when his hands start shaking. open, open, please just open. he mentally begs.
fucking finally, the door opens and hamzah shuts it closed as he enters, looking for you desperately, like a lost puppy looking for its owner.
“y/n! i am home!” he announces.
red and blue quickly make their way out of their shared bed, snuggling up onto hamzah’s legs, showing how much they missed their cat dad. no response from you, whatsoever.
“hey little guys, where’s mom, huh?” knowing he wont get an answer back, hamzah pets his cats and continues looking for you.
as he gets into your shared room, he sighs in relief. there you are.
though you can’t see him, as you quickly type something on the keyboard, sitting on the desk that faces the wall. you’re wearing his headphones, and he then thinks you might be doing college work or just being functional.
he sneaks behind you, and pauses for a moment. waiting to see if you can feel his presence. but as you’re too carried away by whatever the fuck you’re doing, you don’t.
“woah!” you whine when hamzah snatches the headphones off your head. quickly, you turn around on the chair to face your boyfriend. a big smile forms on your face. “hello!” you say.
hamzah pouts, “thought you weren’t home.” he says, pulling your body effortlessly off the chair so you can stand in front of him. “i missed you so fuckin’ much you have no idea.” he admitted
“hey, i missed you too.” you murmur as his body melts with yours in a tight hug.
you can feel how he inhales your scent, his hands slide to your waist too, gripping so hard you think it might bruise. he groans into the hug, a desperate sound erupting from his throat. and then you know whats up.
“you okay, love?” you ask, trying to pull away to face him but he grips tighter, audibly protesting for you to just stay there with him.
“need you. that’s all.” his voice sounds soft, still low and deep per usual. but you get to hear the smallness of his words, the warm sound of need.
“it’s fine, need you too…” you quietly admit, not breaking the hug still.
and the scene is just weird. how you two stand in the middle of the room, embracing each other and balancing as you try not to lose yourself and fall on the floor from how hard he hugs you
“bed, please?” he asks after a moment.
you nod. “yeah, bed.”
for the first time, he breaks the hug but only to quickly get rid of his shoes, he takes off the beanie he was wearing and pulls your hand so you can lay on the bed with him.
“you’re very warm, you feel good?” you ask, a tone of worry sliding out of your question.
his cheeks are flushed and eyes teary, he looks so stupidly good though, something about his needy image invites you, attracts you even more.
“i feel good now that i’m with you.” hamzah holds your hand in his, bringing it up to his face and just keeping it there.
“love you so much, yeah?” you say, caressing his features and letting him lean into your touch.
cozy. very cozy.
“get closer, please.” he pleaded, and when you didn’t move as fast as he would’ve liked, he took matters into his own hands. his hands gripped your hips, pulling them towards his own body, the space between you both nonexistent.
he kissed your neck desperately, hungrily, almost like he was starving.
“so fuckin’ pretty, ma.” he breathed out, a whine catching up inside your throat. that pet name always made you fuzzy inside.
“are you sure you’re okay, hamzah?” you were worried by how he was behaving. not worried in a bad manner, but surprised.
it seemed that now, the words had vanished from his brain, he acted completely out of impulse.
“mmhm, yeah.” he shifted on the bed, placing his leg over yours. “just… really fuckin’ need you right now… always do.” he kissed your shoulder and you shivered at the feeling of his lips on your body.
each time felt like the first time.
“tell me, hamzah.” your voice came out like a whisper, but it was fine.
his eyes opened and stared at you, the vague lighting of the room felt almost painful as it hit his sight.
“what?” big hazy eyes penetrating your figure, he almost wanted to swallow your image, engrave it onto his brain.
you gulped. closeness feeling way too intense now. you liked it.
“tell me what you need me to do.” he groaned at your words, licking his lips almost instinctively.
he was nervous all of sudden.
“i- i don’t know.” hamzah felt so small, so braindead.
every single time he was with you, he felt as if some switch inside his brain turned off, leaving you all the thinking work.
“i think you do know, yeah.” your hand traveled to his cheek, all the way down to his neck, and you let it rest there.
you felt him swallow, his adam’s apple bobbed up and down.
“can you- uh, …please?” so fucked, that’s how he felt. you had barely done anything more than just exist, and yet he was fucked. how pathetic.
“hey, hey, words.” you tighten the grip on his neck, not enough to choke, just enough to feel his blood flowing through the veins.
he whined just so beautifully.
“y/n… p-please…” his lower lip trembled and you knew what he wanted. still, you waited for him to tell you. “can i kiss you?” please please say yes.
a smile appeared on your face and you nodded slowly. so tempting.
“sure.” finally, you thought.
he wasted no time, cupping your face with his big hands, and getting to taste your lips after what felt like ages.
oh how soft, how delicate. he melted right then and there, some part of his mind became mush, and all he could do was keep kissing you, it was messy, so desperate.
however, you started feeling needy too. a feeling so complex to understand. a feeling only hamzah could fill.
like an emptiness inside that you knew only he could fill up.
hamzah’s tongue pressed between your lips and you parted them, allowing him in. you couldn’t help but giggle at the feeling, at how he was practically desperately grinding his hips onto you without shame.
this man, you swore, couldn’t kiss you without getting his dick hard, and that was just the effect you had on him.
“oww, f-fuck, ‘s good” he breathed out, a whine almost. “you’re so pretty, i could eat you.” he said, his hands moved up and down your torso, feeling you up in such a hungry manner.
“damn…” you said quite surprised at his words.
as you were starting to feel not enough contact, you shifted on the bed, breaking the kiss for a moment, hamzah’s eyes stared at you worried, afraid he might’ve done something you didn’t like.
“wha-?”
“hold on, don’t be desperate.” you giggled, kindly pushing hamzah back on the pillows and straddling him.
“can’t help it, sorry…”
he groaned when you sat on his lap, your body perfectly pressing his.
“love you so much, y’know that? love every single thing about you, pretty boy.” your hands found support on his shoulders, he enjoyed this position so much, he got to see your face and at the same time found a nice good friction.
“god i love you, i love you, love you so m-much.” his hands gripped your hips once again, and he thrusted up to feel you. the hardness inside his sweats was painful, and only you could help him out with it. he closed his eyes when you grinded down too, your core pressing with him oh so perfectly.
“open.” you said, soft voice made him melt.
hamzah opened his mouth, eyes closed still, his cheeks so red and tongue wetting his lower lip.
you shook your head with a smile, letting an airy laugh slip past your lips. god he was so fucking cute like this.
“your eyes, silly, i meant open your eyes.”
“oh…” he giggled nervously, a new side of him you didn’t quite know about he had just showed. “sorry, baby…” he pulled up to kiss your lips once again, a peck this time.
“it’s okay, you’re pretty.”
fuck, hamzah could dry hump you for eternity. his hips were kinda tired, he wanted you to do the work for him, however, he couldn’t let you, he didn’t wanna be a bother. though, he wasn’t.
“wanna make you cum..” you said breaking the comfortable silence. not very much of a silence, since his moans would constantly be adorning the space surrounding you.
“j-just… do it- please, please i’ll do anything, i promise…” hamzah pleaded once again. it was weird. so cute though, you loved when he did that. that thing with his eyes, the lust, the love.
his hips began to stutter, was he close from just humping?
“gonna take these off, okay?” you said, asking for an already given permission.
he nodded so fucking fast you thought his head was gonna fall off his neck.
hamzah admired your actions, how you got off his lap to pull his sweats off, and he just let you do it. he felt like putty, like something maleable for you to play with. he liked feeling that way.
“pretty. very pretty.” you praised his bulge, taking your time to take his briefs off. almost like you wanted to tease him.
“s-stop…” he felt nervous. even if you had seen him plenty of times, still got nervous when you praised him.
“want me to stop?” you asked, attentively. your eyes scanned his figure, looking for any discomfort. you found any.
“no! no! please j-just keep going!” you took that as a cue to start. “fuck!” a high pitched moan left his soul.
his eyes rolled back when your flat hand placed over his clothed boner, and an idea popped into your head.
“do it yourself.” you bluntly said.
his eyes opened wide, looking worried and confused. he opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out.
“i want you to do it, hamzah. please yourself, come on.” you explained better.
“b-but…”
“shh, i know you can do it, yeah? you’re such a good boy, aren’t you? so pretty for me, so sweet, so obedient… c’mon.”
he groaned again, his cock twitching inside his briefs as you praised him once again. he nodded slowly, feeling dizzy all of sudden.
shaky hands took over, hamzah slipped his dick out of his underwear and shakily touched the leaking tip. fuck, he felt so stupid, almost like all his self-pleasing knowledge had been forgotten all of sudden.
“mmhmm, shit..” he cursed under his breath when it twitched again, leaking this ridiculous amount of precum just at the thought of you watching him jerk off.
he could feel your sight on him, so expectant.
“go ahead, love.” you encouraged him, sitting closer to him, your hand on his thigh. he shivered at the touch.
“o-okay, gonna start now..” he felt as if he needed your permission, which you had given him already.
his hand wrapped around his shaft, it felt slippery and wet from all the stimulation that kissing and humping you had given him. he moaned, satisfied. his thumb circled around the head, sliding easily, and then, when his hand tightened, he stroked all the way down.
“oh god, god, oh f-fuck, y/n?” it felt so surreal. he had jerked off infinite times before this, why was he so fucking sensitive now?
your hand caressed his thigh. “yeah?”
“n-nothing.”
“keep going, you’re doing very good.” you moved closer to kiss his temple, lovingly and gently.
hamzah stroked up, and then down again. he was going at a very steady pace, trying his best not to cum quickly, since he wanted you to know how much he could handle.
not much.
“gonna tell me what has you so needy?” you asked all of sudden. and then, hamzah thought it was rather interesting to have a conversation while he was pounding it.
“uh…i- i think it’s just w-work,” he managed to reply. “been away all week..” he added after a groan, slowing down his movements.
“don’t stop.” you warned, moving your hand to engulf his own, as you helped him jerk off, steadying his shaky moves. “missed me, huh?”
“fuck yeah, a lot.” mhmm. “missed y-your voice a-and you… and your touch and, and this…” his eyebrows knitted together, he opened his mouth to moan but it was silent when you made his hand stop. “p-please, keep going…” he begged.
“you do it, love.” you said, letting his own hand move and the other hand gripped the sheets so hard you thought he was gonna rip them apart.
the wet sounds of hamzah’s skin, the lewd sounds of his hand sliding up and down his dick filled the room. it made you unbelievably worked up seeing him so desperate. it was very pretty.
he was starting to jerk off quicker, the speed alarming you. short moans came out of his throat, curses too.
“ah, ah, ah- shit! wanna cum… gonna-, c-can i?” his movements erratic and inconsistent, the glistening clear fluid coating his hand entirely from how messy he had been.
he had been so good, waiting all week for you. even if he was away filming and you were busy with college. he had been patient and waited until you both could get intimate. so good.
“cum, hamzah, be good for me, okay?” you squeezed his thigh again, giving him reassurance.
he moaned loudly, his breathing stopped, it caught up on his throat.
“wanna fill you up, god, wanna fill you up so bad, s-so bad..” he rambled slurring his words.
inside his mind, the image of him filling you up with his warm cum. it always helped him reach a decent, more than good orgasm.
your thighs pressed together and your eyes widen at his words. you bit your lower lip, anticipating his release. a small, needy whine escaped from your lips.
hamzah’s free hand looked blindly for yours, awaiting to hold onto something while he let himself go. you linked your hands and he then, only felt like he could cum.
“o-oh fuck! y/n, y/n!” there we go, his low voice carried out a cry, so pathetic. he kept stroking, wanting to let out all the built up cum he had been accumulating all damn week. “owww…” he sobbed.
hamzah’s shaky hands let go of his shaft and he opened his eyes slowly. he looked down at the mess he had made. a puddle of cum settled on his tummy, part of the sheets and his hands.
you giggled, snapping him out of his trance. hamzah looked at you with droopy eyes, tired and sleepy. he smiled lazily. silently thanking you for everything you did for him.
“y/n, i love you.” he said after a while of just trying to catch his breath.
you took his hand, the one that had cum all over, and held it up. he looked at you anticipating, those big brown eyes staring directly at your soul.
then, you did it. you licked his fingers, tasting him in your mouth. his eyes widened, the sight of you practically eating his cum made him warm all over. the knot inside his tummy started to tighten once again.
“oww… you’re gross.” he playfully said scrunching up his nose. blatantly lying. he found it hot.
“nah, you are gross, look at this mess!” you pointed at the messy sheets. hamzah rolled his eyes and sighed, tired.
“your fault.” he giggled.
kinda your fault for how fucking adorable you were. your fault for making hamzah so stupidly horny. your fault for making him love you so much.
“need to clean you up, though.” you were going to get up and look for wipes but he held your hand, dragging you back in the bed with him.
“stay with me.” he said, looking at you with those eyes he knew you loved. persuading you into just laying there. next to him.
you couldn’t say no to him, not ever. so you gave in. you threw yourself on the pillows and held his hand. your breathing synced with hamzah’s.
realisation hit you then. you leaned up to peek and held a laugh when you saw the image in front of you. hamzah’s hand gripped yours as he felt you moving. you blinked.
“your dick is still out.”
post nut clarity hit hamzah too, however he was too calm and comfy to do anything about it.
“yeah, i know..”
“okay.” you smiled, leaning your head on his shoulder. he leaned his on yours too, “i love you”
“mhmm, love ya’ so fuckin’ much too, ma, so much, you don’t even imagine…” hamzah snuggled closer to you, the warmth comfiness of your body next to his calmed his nerves.
comfortable silence filled the room, as your tender love filled the void.
>_<
sorry this took so long and sorry this sucks but i smoked some weed and kinda just vomited words and this came out bye
#slushy noobz#slushynoobz#hamzahthefantastic#hamzah fluff#hamzah imagines#hamzah x y/n#hamzah fic#hamzah x reader#hamzahsmut#slushy virus#slushy smut
486 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝒉𝒂𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒅│𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐
𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉… your stalker is tormenting you at a party, almost revealing his identity in the process.
stalker!matt x goodgirl!reader, party scene (mention of alcohol use), cursing, smut (no actual sex), dirty talk, pet names
3k words
loud bass is blaring through the dark neighborhood, the annual start of the year party being held at one of the school’s rich kid’s mansion. in this part of town, the houses are enormous, almost looking like castles, and modern, with multiple luxury cars parked in the driveways, the selection varying between porches and audis leaving the streets vacant for guests to park their cars. just like every year, there are cars parked everywhere, the front lawn of the house is full of teens and red plastic cups. the fall air is crisp, but it’s not cold just yet.
your friends walk up the stairs to the beautiful white and grey house, giggling to themselves while you take your time, trailing behind and observing your surroundings. you’re wearing a beautiful short, open-back black dress with a pink bow in the back and some matching pink heels. your long hair is in loose curls, pulled back by a bow, leaving only the front pieces out to catch in your glittery lip gloss when the wind hits your face.
as you’re observing the people around you, most are students you’ve run into in the hallways, some are from other schools, just there for booze and a good time, you notice a dark form next to the garage doors. it’s too dark for you to be able to make up a face, or any trait, but from their build you can tell that it’s a male. he’s definitely wearing dark clothes, but before you can observe him some more, he’s vanished towards the wooded area behind the house. shaking your head slightly, you make your way towards the open front door to find your friends.
the house is packed, the walls are shaking from how loud the music is. there is a beer pong tournament in one room and people dancing in another. drinks are being left on various surfaces of the house, confettis are on the floor and you can even spot discarded shoes and purses. you make your way to the kitchen, where you assume you will find a drink and your friends. after almost getting lost in the big house, you finally find a beautiful kitchen, with marble counters and gold accents. alongside bottles of various alcohols, a bowl of fruit punch that people spiked with god knows what and some cans of soda are a few chips bags half eaten. pushing those to the side, you grab a red solo cup and fill it with rum and coke, not being much of a drinker but wanting to loosen up a little bit for once.
cup in hand, you make your way to the dance floor, where you finally find your friends dancing and laughing with what seems to be the guys of the football team. as you try to make your way to them, mumbling sorry’s to the people around and pushing your way across the dance floor, the arm of a drunk guy slaps your drink all over your dress, making the black fabric stick to your skin. without even looking your way, the guy walks away, not even bothering to say sorry or help you out.
giving up on your friends, you beeline for the staircase leading up fancy, white and gold stairs to try and find a bathroom. you reek of alcohol, the smell so strong it is almost making you nauseous. the upstairs area is just as beautiful as the rest of the house, the ceilings high, walls decorated by art pieces that must be worth millions, although for the owners it must be only a dime in their pockets. there are many doors, you push them open one by one, in hopes that the next one might be a bathroom.
it is much quieter in this part of the house, and it takes you a few minutes to realize that you aren’t alone upstairs. at first, you assume that it must be some drunken kid looking for some place to crash in or even a horny couple trying to make their way to a bed but soon enough, you notice that the footsteps are going in the same direction as you are. your heart racing, you don’t want to turn around to face them so you open the next door in front of you and go in, realizing that it is a big library, only illuminated by the street lights from outside. forgetting about the mysterious footsteps, you walk in further, looking to find a light switch and admire the beauty that is this place.
there are at least 20 aisle of books all the way down to a beautiful red velvet couch against the wall. the carpeted floors are making it a bit hard for you to walk in your heels so you carefully step out of them and walk around the shelfs, admiring the endless copies of books, going from encyclopedias to fictions and memoirs. as you run your fingers against the dusty book covers, you suddenly hear a door close and someone walk in. you look through the shelves, but it is too dark for you to make out much.
“who’s in here?” you say softly, hoping that it is someone you might know.
you get no answer, only hearing soft footsteps against the carpet making it’s way closer to you. as you try to walk away and closer to the door, you notice a black doc marten boot from the other side of the shelf you were hiding behind, as your eyes go up the form of the man, he turns around and walks to the other side of the room. he is wearing black pants and a black hoodie, making it impossible for you to know who he is.
your heart rate is spiking up, your face is hot but somehow, you refuse to leave without knowing who he is. pushing your curled hair behind your shoulder, you slowly walk in the same direction as the dark figure.
you take a deep breath before addressing him again, “do i know you?”
he leans back against the wall next to the couch, his hood covering the upper half of his face, “maybe”, the raspy, dark voice says.
a shudder goes through your body after hearing his voice, which you don’t recognize. you walk closer, intrigued and somewhat feeling brave. as you get closer to him, you can see that the lower half of his face is adorning some stubble, his pink lips glistening as he licks them.
“it would help if i could see your face, don’t you think?” you lean your hip against the shelf closest to you, as you speak.
the mysterious figure let’s out a dry laugh, “it’s more fun if you don’t.”
he makes his way to the couch, sitting down and spreading his legs slightly, his lap almost inviting, “liking what you see, princess?”
you bite your lip to stop the tiny smile making it’s way onto your lips. you’ve always loved the unknown, being intrigued by things you couldn’t decipher, “maybe, but i’d like to know who you are, mr. darkness.”
you see a dark smirk coming onto his lips at the nickname, “let’s play a game, then maybe you’ll get to know who i am.”
“what kind of game?” in a very concerning way, this turned you on. it shouldn’t. you should be scared, although you could admit you were a little. but after being sheltered and watched over your whole life, the word innocence being automatically attached to your name by everyone, you needed an escape.
an escape in a sick and twisted game with a stranger that looked impossibly dangerous but oh so captivating.
he pushed his hips up a bit, getting more comfortable in the soft couch before rubbing a hand across his jaw, “i’m going to ask you ten questions and if you answer all of them truthfully, i’ll answer your questions. don’t try to lie to me.”
your breathing picks up, “and if i don’t tell the truth?”
“believe me, you don’t want to go there,” he says, his voice low, “i know everything, sweetheart.”
your pride and curiosity takes the best of you and suddenly, you find yourself standing closer to him, ready for his game to begin.
it can’t be that bad.
he clears his throat, “question number one,” he pauses for a second, “what perfume are you wearing?”
you frowned, not understanding what kind of questions he’s asking. and for what?, “chanel number 5. always has, always will.”
“good,” he nods slowly, “question two, what shade of lipstick do you have on right now?”
“charlotte tilbury pillowtalk,” you continue, “how do you know i’m not lying?”
“i told you,” a dark smiles appear on his lips, “i know everything about you.”
you feel his gaze on your body, but his hood is still a bit too low for you to see much of his face.
“question three, what chapter of your favorite book do you keep rereading?”
his questions are getting weirder, “chapter twenty three.”
he hums, “it is a very good chapter,” he clears his throat, “question four, what color of underwear are you currently wearing?”
your eyebrows shoot up, not expecting such an intrusive question, and you choose to mess with him a little, “they’re purple.”
a sinister laugh comes out of his mouth as he gets up and walks towards you, “i thought you were a smart girl, y/n.”
you start to walk backwards, your back hitting the bookshelf behind you, trapping you, “i am smart.”
he tsk, using his two fingers to lift your jaw, “smart girls don’t lie,” he says, “and you don’t own a pair of purple underwear, you hate that color.”
shock takes over you as you realize that this man knows a lot more than you could imagine, “how would you even know that?”
“stupid question,” he answers, “you’re wearing pink lace panties.”
as you try to answer, he surprises you by grabbing your lower half, and swinging you over his shoulders, walking towards the couch. the alcohol on your dress now dry, only leaving the smell of rum lingering on you.
as he throws you down, your dress lifts up, revealing your light pink panties, “beautiful,” he says as sits next to you.
you pull down the hem of your dress, sitting down straight as you study the man, who is now very close to you. you can smell his cologne, and notice that his left sleeve has moved, revealing dark tattoos.
“what happens now?” you whisper in the silent room, now noticing that it started raining outside.
his right hand comes up, and he caresses your bare shoulder, gently removing your hair from there, “i’m going to have to punish you.”
his words make the pit of your stomach burn with excitement, arousal pooling in your now soaked panties, making you squeeze your legs together.
this doesn’t go unnoticed as he looks down and licks his lips, letting out a small laugh, “but you won’t make this too hard for me, now will you, honey.”
you shake your head, “no, i won’t.”
“good,” he spreads his legs and pats his lap, “be a good girl and lay across my thighs. on your belly.”
you do as you are told, climbing over his lip and settling on your stomach, your head laying on the armrest. you feel his hands travel up your legs, stopping at your thighs before he roughly pulls the skirt of your dress over your ass, bunching it up on your hips.
a low grunt comes out of him, as he caresses your now pantie-clad ass, “you know what happens to liars, right, y/n?”
you nod and he slaps your ass hard, “i need words, baby.”
“yes,” you whisper.
“what happens to liars, uh?” he smooths his hands over your ass before landing another hard slap.
you let out a hiss, “they get p-punished.”
the mystery man hums, slapping your ass again, “that’s right, honey,” he runs a hand up your back, grabbing a fistful of your hair, making the ribbon fall out, “but you’re a good girl aren’t you? you’ll take it well for me.”
as you squeak out a yes, he grabs both of your arms, crossing them behind your back and using the pink ribbon to tie them up, “that’s better.”
“count them with me, baby,” he says as he slaps your left ass cheek this time, harder.
“one,” you say softly, your eyes watering from the pain.
he lands another one, “two.”
and another one, “three.”
once he gets to ten, you let out a sob that you’ve been holding for too long. the pain is making your ass cheeks burn, but your now soaked underwear is telling him that you secretly love it.
just as you think that he is about to slap your ass an eleventh time, he starts rubbing it in an almost tender way, “good girl, you did so good for me.”
“i think you deserve a reward,” he says moving his hand in between your thighs, pressing it onto your aching pussy, “what do you think?”
you nod vigorously, needing some sort of relief, “yes, please.” you whine out.
he starts to rub circles on to your covered clit, “you’re so wet, honey, is it all for me?”
“yes,” you try to muffle your moan by biting your lip.
he slaps your pussy lightly, “i want to hear you, don’t do that.”
he finally grabs the top of your soaked, lace panties and removes them, shoving them into his hoodie pocket, before running his fingers through your folds, “making a mess on my fingers already.”
he pushes his thick, middle finger inside of you, making your back arch into him and a high pitches moan come out of your mouth, “never had something so big inside of you before uh?”
he picks up his pace, as you start grinding onto his leg, looking for some more friction, “look at you, being so desperate for someone you don’t even know,” his other hand comes to grab at your neck from the side, squeezing it just the right amount, “i know you’ve been longing for this, baby, i know this is what you’ve always wanted.”
his words could make you think that he did know everything. like he knew that at night, you would watch videos of girls getting spanked and fucked by masked men, to get off. like he knew that you always secretly dreamed of being choked and tied up. like he knew that from the moment you saw him, all mysterious and dark , you weren’t instantly attracted to him.
as you get closer to your release, a familiar knot forming in the pit of your stomach, his fingers pick up their speed, his breath hot on your back, “you look so pretty like this, all tied up and soaking my fingers.”
this is enough for you to come undone onto his fingers, your release coating your inner thighs and his hand, he removes his fingers and let out a satisfied hum before his other hand comes to grab at your hair, making your head turn towards his still hidden face.
“look at that mess you’ve made on me, sweetheart,” you see his glistening fingers as he brings them to his mouth and suck on them, making your jaw hang slightly, “taste so good.”
after removing his fingers from his mouth, the brings them to yours, “taste yourself.”
you let out a moan as you suck on his fingers like your life depends on it. he takes them out of your mouth with a ‘pop’ and starts untying the ribbon lacing your arms together. when your arms are finally free, he sits you up straight against the couch, letting you catch your breah for a minute.
just when you’re about to open your mouth to speak again, he gets up and walks towards the door, your pink and still wet panties still hanging out of his hoodie pocket.
just when he is about to grap the knob and open the door he turns slightly towards you and says, “see you around, pretty girl. next time, don’t lie to me.”
he closes the door behind him, and just like that, you are left completely on your own, the sticky mess still in between your thighs, your hair disheveled and absolutely confused as to what just happened.
when you finally get yourself together and go to put on your shoes, a small piece of paper falls down from the strap of your dress onto the floor. you pick it up and open it.
i’ll be watching you, darling. keep being a good girl and you might find me again.
and it’s signed; mr. darkness.
a few days later, as you get home from school, you find a bouquet of pink roses on your bed with a small note attached to it. you look around before opening it.
meet me at the abandoned house on main street friday at ten o’clock.
you smile down at the note, carefully putting it in your bedside table drawer, alongside all the other ones your stalker has been leaving around for you.
© 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥
𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓’𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆; i’m thinking of maybe making a series out of this one since you guys are just as obsessed with stalker!matt as i am… i love writing him, let me know if you’d want more! i love you guys x
#mattsangel⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆#matt sturniolo fic#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo#matt sturniolo imagine#matt sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo#nick sturniolo#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo fanfic
404 notes
·
View notes
Text
RANDOM ZERO DAY HCS
TW/CW: SH & GORE: ones that are about this will be in italic
more will be added to this list eventually! updated 12/15/24
-andre is chronically ill in some way. he’s often getting sick and he has days where he throws up often. he refuses to have anyone care for him though, as he feels like he’s independent enough.
-cal experiments with fire. he used to start fires in his backyard when he was a young teenager but after his mom caught him & gave him a lecture about it, he resorted to starting them out in the field before or after shooting with andre.
-andre will wear the same three outfits, while cal has a problem with owning too many clothes, specifically band tees.
-andre’s good in science and history, while cal prefers english for the poetry and writing aspect. they both can’t do math, but andre is somewhat better than cal so he copies off of him, whether andre likes it or not.
-cal and his siblings had a hamster growing up. they probably named it something basic like ‘buddy’, and when it died they buried it in a shoebox and had a funeral for it.
-somewhere in the kriegman household, there are photos of mel sleeping in andre’s bed with him when he was younger.
-speaking of mel, she’s woke the boys up before at a sleepover by jumping on them and trying to get their attention. when they finally got up, turns out she just wanted to be fed.
-rachel is a great artist and often draws portraits and eyes. she’s tried to get cal to stay still for her so she could draw him. cal claims it ‘doesn’t look like him’ to tease her.
-modern-day rachel is also the type to own a flickr, tumblr or pinterest account to post her photos. they would usually be of nature, drawings, her and her friends, sunsets, and outfits.
-rachel has a german shepherd and/or a shih tzu. she also posts tons of photos of her pets.
-if cal lived long enough to witness the peak of gore sites, he would have a big, bulky laptop infected with viruses from visiting them. andre would also watch gore with him and give tons of commentary as he’s watching, while cal just stares.
-sometimes, when everyone’s asleep, cal goes into a dissociative state where he doesn’t feel like he’s real. he’s numb and is almost convinced he can’t feel pain. in response to this he will cut. he does it on his thighs and forearms. he also burns himself if he doesn’t have a blade.
-andre knows about cal’s sh, but cal didn’t tell him. he found out. it confused him a little when he first found out, but he’s still learning how to understand it.
-andre listens to classic rock and some german artists. he’s not too deep into the music scene as cal is, so cal’s always on his ass about ‘name three songs.’
-cal smokes weed before school sometimes. when he can’t do that, he’ll skip class to smoke. he does it out of a water bottle, and andre thinks it’s disgusting and tells him to ‘just get a bong or a pipe if he’s gonna do that’.
-andre has tried thc once with cal. he didn’t like it as he felt it made him ‘too aware and too nervous’. however he will take cbd as a pain reliever.
-cal has done, or at least considered doing shrooms. he knows a few people who can get him some, and the days leading up to zero day make him think ‘i might as well, before i die’.
-andre takes quick, cold showers. cal’s in there for an hour with the water steaming hot. he’s nearly passed out from it, multiple times.
-cal draws on the desks in school all the time. his desk is covered in drawings and it only gets more and more filled as the days go on, because the teachers just gave up on telling him to stop.
-rachel has a couple friends that rebel more than her, so she’s coined as the ‘innocent one’ or the ‘goody two-shoes’. she’s still popular nonetheless, but known as the nice girl.
-modern day cal is a white monster junkie. sometimes he gets the original flavour too.
-it broke rachel’s heart when she found out about cal’s sh. cal never intended to tell anyone, but over time he got a bit too comfortable and accidentally let the fact slip out in conversation. she was scared and after that she would always double-check to make sure cal was okay. cal didn’t know how to accept her kind words, and i like to think he died still not fully believing she cared.
-cal and andre getting their hands on the first sims game once it came out. they’d make brad huff, giving him the ugliest and most overdramatized features. they’d make each other, too. they’d argue when they get to see the reveal of their characters, but it’s the funniest thing ever at the same time. the night ends off with them making their own sims and brad’s sim fight and other shenanigans.
-andre’s lips get chapped easily causing them to peel, so he developed a habit of biting the skin off.
-cal’s hands are always cold. like, concerningly cold. he’ll put his hand on andre’s arm randomly sometimes and make him jump. it catches him off guard and pisses him off every time.
#zero day#andre keuck#calvin gabriel#zero day 2003#andre kriegman#cal robertson#caldre#🏷️ cubiclez hc tag
211 notes
·
View notes
Text
if Mike fell asleep with you...
Word Count: 750
Horror Characters Masterlist
Warnings: this is mostly pure fluff - Mike and the reader are in an established relationship, the reader's gender is not described in any way (the main pronouns used are you/yours), Mike calls the reader angel, the reader takes on a caregiver role for Abby, mostly just short and fluffy. This is set before the main events of the movie, when Mike is working as a security guard at the mall.
A/N: So, I've seen so many people in the tags going 'just let him sleep!!! that man is so exhausted!!' and saying that he's too tired to fuck in the way that people are writing fanfics about him. And as much as I love super horny fics, I do thought this up, because I agree - the man should be allowed to sleep. This is largely inspired by that scene in Grey's Anatomy where Meredith walked in and Owen was asleep on Cristina's chest while she was reading a book (I think it was when she was reading through Mer's mom's diaries?) - anyway. I love that scene so much because it shows how easily he sleeps around her because he's so comfortable around her. And that's why it deeply inspired this. Let him sleep.
...
Mike was exhausted when he came in the door.
He heaved out a sigh as he closed the door behind him, toeing off his shoes - pure, stiff tiredness radiating through his whole body in the worst way.
You knew that sound anywhere.
“Long day?” You inquired gently from your position on the couch, lightly craning your neck to look at him.
He shuffled further into the house in an almost zombie-like fashion, only giving you a solitary grunt in response.
You felt kind of bad that he had been stuck at work late when you had been lucky enough to have a morning shift and been treated to a relaxing evening with Abby. She was a relatively easy kid to take care of, and generally fun to be around.
And after you had put her to bed, you laid out on the couch, relaxing and reading a novel that your friend had recommended. Generally, you were having a nice evening. And it seemed that Mike was not.
As you kept an eye on Mike, you folded over the page of your book to mark it and put it on the coffee table for later.
“Dinner’s on the counter.” You told him. “I made lasagna. I can heat it up for you if you want.”
You hated that before he started dating you, all he knew was freezer burnt crap - but you were slowly showing him how to cook, and a world of vegetables that didn't come in a can.
Mike took off his jacket and the heavy belt he had to wear for work (his large walkie talkie and his taser were in his locker at work, as mandated, but the thing was still damn uncomfortable) and he hung them both up.
He didn’t respond to your queries about dinner as he walked around the couch. Instead of speaking, seeing you laying there so relaxed - the sight was all too inviting, and he eased himself to lay on top of you in a form of very natural intimacy before he grunted a few words into your neck.
“Did Abby eat?” He asked softly as he laid on top of you.
It was oddly comforting to have the bulk of his weight on top of you, especially as he melted against you, letting out a small moan as the tension melted out of his bones. He adjusted himself to get more comfortable and his face rested against the softness of your chest - you glanced down to see that his eyes were drifting closed.
“She ate two platefuls, and had some peas.” You assured him. “Did her homework, had a bath, and she practiced her spelling words before she went to bed.”
Mike grunted again - a more positive pitch to this one. He couldn't ask for anyone better than you. Sometimes he worried about her - all the time. But when Abby was with you, that worry lessened a lot.
“You’re an angel.” He hummed against your chest. “I don’t-” He let out a gentle yawn. “I don’t know how I got so lucky with you.”
“You look hot in a uniform and my job at the bookstore gets boring.” You replied, half-joking about the circumstances of how your relationship with Mike had formed.
You reached out to him and began running your fingers through his hair, soothing him even further into the realm of sleep with the comforting touch.
He let out another tired moan in reply - something that almost stretched into a rolling sound with the gentle pleasure of your hand in his hair. With the way his body was so slack against yours, his breathing even and quiet, you knew this was only leading one place.
“You wanna go get ready for bed?” You asked gently.
“In a minute.” He answered softly, barely parting his lips to get the words out.
You glanced over to the table and reached out, picking your book back up as his breathing deepened and his body went even more slack. You were preparing to get comfortable for the next few hours. You weren’t all that tired yourself, and you still had a few chapters left to go. When you got to the next chapter, he began to snore lightly and you felt drool dripping down your neck - which didn’t bother you all that much. You found it cute, in fact.
You were comforted by the fact that he relaxed enough around you to get such a good sleep. You knew that he needed it.
...
A/N: also, this is my first time posting a fic completely from mobile by copy/pasting something from google docs on my phone. So hopefully the formatting isn't too messed up and hopefully this goes well! And I hope you guys enjoy this short fluffy fic 💖
#sundrop writes#mike schmidt x y/n#mike schmidt x you#mike schmidt x reader#mike schmidt#five nights at freddy's movie#five nights at freddy's#fnaf fanfiction
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
imagining being javi's wife and wanting to surprise him when he gets home from work by lying on your bed naked except with some heels and stockings on and he comes into the bedroom like 😳🥵🤯🧎♂️
tags: f!reader, smut, lil bit of dirty talk, terms of endearment (amor, mamacita, baby), established relationship, husband!javi, no use of y/n, implied p in v sex, you're fingering yourself in front of him, unbeta'd, if i missed any other tags pls let me know ok thx.
~ 1.9k w/c - gif cred
a/n: it's clear that i have a thing for being javi's wife (don't we all?) but also the idea of him fucking while still being half dressed in those sexy suits of his 🖤 ooh and also, margot robbie in that one scene in the wolf of wall street def inspired this 🙂↕️
You lay there, the cool sheets brushing against your bare skin, save for the sheer black stockings that cling to your thighs and the sleek heels adorning your feet.
The faint sound of the front door opening and closing sends a thrill of anticipation through you. You know Javier would be tired from work, his usual routine predictable: a kiss hello, then a quiet retreat to unwind. But tonight, you planned something different, something to jolt him out of his rhythm and straight into your arms—or more accurately, between your legs.
His footsteps grow louder, the soft creak of the bedroom door opening a second later. Your lips curve into a smile as his figure fills the doorway. The instant his eyes meet yours, his entire demeanor shifts.
His shoulders roll back, those soft brown eyes gleam in ardor and his lips part as if to say something, though no words come out. Instead, his hand slackens, his briefcase thudding to the floor as he takes a slow step toward you.
“Mi amor���” he murmurs hotly, shrugging his suit jacket off as he approaches the bed.
You shift further up until your back is pressed against the headboard, the slight movement causing your breasts to bounce, nipples pebbling under his sharp gaze. You see his jaw tighten, that smoldering gaze riveted to the soft curves of your body framed so perfectly by the stockings.
Javier loves this. Loves how you embrace your sensuality and femininity just for him. The little details—like the patch of curls that tease him with the promise of heaven between your thighs, make his mouth water.
"What’s all this?" His voice never fails to turn you on, smooth yet raspy, as his hands move to his tie, yanking it loose with an impatience that makes you feel like the most desired woman alive.
“I thought you’d like the surprise,” you purr, running a hand slowly over your thigh and up your side, stopping just shy of your breast. He track the movement, a faint groan slipping past his pouty lips.
Javier moves closer, his dark eyes locked on yours, his intent clear as he kneels at the edge of the bed. His hands press into the mattress as he starts crawling toward you, head tilted, lips parted and prepared to dive headfirst into the sweetness of your cunt, the very thought written all over his flushed, eager face.
But you stop him. The sharp tap of your shoe against his forehead halts him mid-motion. He freezes, his eyes darting up to yours in confusion before narrowing with a frown. He exhales sharply, the sound almost petulant.
“I’d like to enjoy my surprise.”
You tut softly, shaking your head with a playful smirk. “Do you deserve to enjoy your surprise?” you muse, cocking a brow as you extend your leg, the smooth sole of your shoe nudging him back until he’s upright on his knees.
He huffs again, his broad shoulders rising and falling with a dramatic sigh. “No,” he admits, his voice gruff but obedient, his gaze never leaving yours.
“Smart boy,” you coo, your tone teasing as you pull your leg away, but not before he catches your ankle in his hand. He brings it to his lips, pressing a kiss against the fabric of your stocking.
His eyes flicker to the heels you’re wearing, lingering there for a moment too long. His cock stirs as he imagines how you’d look standing in this little ensemble—the arch of your back, the curve of your ass, the way the tops of your thighs spill over the edge of the stockings.
His jaw tightens, a faint groan escaping him. Fuck.
You notice the shift in his gaze, the flush creeping up his neck, and it makes you smile. “Eyes up here,” you hum, pulling your leg from his grasp. He rolls his eyes, but his compliance is instant. He stays put, hands resting on his thighs, his entire body taut with restraint.
Now it’s your turn to admire, letting your gaze drift lazily over him.
God, he looks good like this, all pent-up desire and buttoned-up control. His crisp work shirt clings to his chest, the faint sheen of sweat along his collarbone betraying his calm facade. You’ve always loved how he looks in his work clothes—so professional, so serious.
All business, no play, unless of course, you’re involved.
“You’re going to stay right there,” you drawl sensually, “while I play with myself for a little. Show you what I do when you leave me here, night after night, lonely and aching to feel my husband’s touch… his mouth… his cock.”
Javier growls, a sound low and primal, his hands flexing against his legs. You can see the effort it takes for him to stay in place, gripping his knees.
Every inch of him screams to pounce, to pin you down and take what you’re teasing. But he doesn’t. He waits, the intensity in his eyes burning a hole right through you.
Slowly, you spread your thighs, your fingers trailing languidly down your body as you bite your lip. The glistening heat of your pussy comes into view, swollen and throbbing with desire. Stickiness twinkles on your inner thighs, the evidence of how turned on you’ve been all day—thinking about this moment, about him.
His breath catches, his chest rising sharply. You see the appetite in his gaze, the tension as he rolls his jaw, the way his cock strains against his pants
You moan softly as the cooler air of the bedroom licks at your heated sex, your hips shifting instinctively at the sensation.
Your hands slide up to your chest, fingers teasingly kneading the soft flesh of your breasts. You rub your thumbs over your pert nipples, and a contented sigh escapes your lips, each stroke sending a sharp pulse of arousal straight to your clit. You watch him through heavy-lidded eyes, seeing the way he’s utterly entranced, like you’ve cast a spell over him.
His lips part slightly, his breathing uneven as his gaze follows your every move. He’s motionless, a predator coiled in wait, except for the way his hands flex on his thighs.
With deliberate slowness, you spread your pussy lips, exposing yourself fully. Your eyes are locked on his face, eager to drink in his reaction—and it’s everything you hoped for. His composure cracks, his brows furrowing, and his mouth twitches into a faint snarl, his restraint barely hanging by a thread.
“Mamacita, por favor,” he rasps, needy. His tongue swipes over his bottom lip as if he’s already tasting you in his mind.
“Not yet,” you whisper teasingly, but your own breath is starting to hitch. Your fingers begin to trace gentle circles over your clit, and the sensation is enough to make your back arch.
You’re dripping—so slick that your fingers glide effortlessly over the swollen bundle of nerves.
Javier’s dark eyes follow every movement, the golden brown now almost entirely swallowed by black, his pupils drowning in lust.
For a moment, his gaze flickers to your hand, lingering on the way your engagement ring catches the dim light of your bedroom. The sight ignites something deeper in him, a primal kind of possessiveness that makes his cock throb painfully.
You smirk, reveling in how completely you’ve unraveled him, before bringing your slick-coated fingers to your lips. You lick them clean, savoring the rousing taste of your pussy as your eyes lock with his.
He groans low in his throat and it makes you giggle softly, the sound playful, sinful. Your spit-slick fingers trail back down to your pussy, and this time, you sink not one, not two, but three fingers inside yourself.
Your body reacts instantly, fleshy walls tightening around the intrusion, your heels digging into the plush duvet as you begin to fuck yourself.
Your head tilts back, eyes rolling as pleasure ripples through you. “Javi,” you sigh his name, breathy and wanton, and the noise alone looks like it’s about to break him.
“Feel good, baby?”
“So good,” you whimper, pressing your thumb against your clit while your free hand finds your nipple, giving it a sharp pinch that makes you gasp.
“Is this what you do when I’m not around?” he growls, the edge in his voice sending a shiver down your spine.
“Yes,” you whimper, curling your fingers inside your pussy to hit that perfect spot. “But it’s never good enough. I’m never s-satisfied.”
A slow, wolfish smirk spreads across Javier’s lips at your words, and you can feel him inching closer. As much as you want to keep teasing him, to prolong this game, the need inside you is unbearable, like your entire body is being engulfed in flames. You need him to put it out—to consume you.
His broad frame looms over you now, dark eyes gleaming with overwhelming need. His large, gun calloused hand reaches out to stroke along the edge of your stocking, right near that crevice where your thigh meets your groin, and you moan pathetically, picking up the pace of your fingers.
Despite you working yourself over in a fucking frenzy, Javi is careful, tracing the lace border where the stocking ends and your bare skin begins. Then he leans in, his breath hot against your ear.
“I’m so fucking hard watching you play with yourself,” he murmurs, like a secret meant only for you.
His other hand slides down to your hip, gripping it firmly as he pulls you slightly closer to him. The possessive strength in his touch sends your heart racing, and your pussy clenches hard around your fingers. “And you smell so good,” he groans, the words almost a growl as he presses a lingering kiss to your temple.
You push your fingers deeper, filling yourself to the knuckles, your palm grinding against your swollen clit. The friction is maddening, the pressure perfect, but it’s amplified tenfold by the heat of Javi’s body so close to yours.
His words, his presence—it’s all too much and not enough. The way he speaks to you, that bedroom voice of his, feels like his tongue is fucking your ear, making your toes curl and your hips buck.
Your body quivers under his gaze and touch, the flames inside you fanned higher with every purposeful move he makes. The tension between you crackles, thick and intoxicating, until you’re certain you’ll shatter if he doesn’t give you what you need.
Your fingers falter for a moment, desperate for him to take over, but the sharp press of his grip on your hip keeps you grounded. “Keep going,” he growls, his tone brooking no argument. “You wanted to fuck with me so go ahead, finish.”
You whimper, your body trembling as you pick up the rhythm again, working yourself harder, faster. “Javi,” you cry out, your voice trembling, your orgasm hurtling toward you like a freight train.
“Let go,” he encourages, kissing behind your ear. “Come for me, baby.”
His permission shatters what little control you had left. Your body seizes, your walls clamping down around your fingers as waves of pleasure crash over you, leaving you trembling and gasping beneath him.
He’s on you quickly after that, his larger frame pressing you into the mattress. His hands move your wrists, pinning them above your head with ease, the sheer strength in his grip making your core flutter all over again as he cages you beneath him.
He’s still fully dressed, the fabric of his shirt brushing against your sensitive nipples as he looms over you, his body a solid wall of heat and restraint.
His lips curl into a wicked smirk, his hips grinding against yours, the rough material of his slacks a tormenting contrast to your naked cunt. “Gonna fuck you now,” he growls before leaning down, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss that steals your breath and seals your fate.
380 notes
·
View notes