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buckysgrace · 3 months ago

Text

Good Graces

Gator Tillman x Fem!Reader (Gator is in his early 20s and reader is 19ish)

CW: Stepcest/Pseudocest, dry humping, unprotected p n v sex, degradation, cum eating, spanking, Gator’s a bit of a perv but who is really surprised

Your relationship with Gator is anything but pleasant. Your forced proximity drives you insane and he does nothing but pick on you to make it worse. You hate him. At least you think you do.

Gator was a pest. Well, for the most part. Sometimes he’d help you out with chores on the ranch, things that you weren’t used to doing. But most of the time he teased you to no end, constantly finding a way to crawl underneath your skin.

Underneath the dinner table he’d try and play footsie with you, grip your knee or rub at your thigh. No matter how harshly you shoved him away or squeezed his fingers he always came back.

He was like a middle school boy when he was around you, always finding the need to tug on your bra straps or mess with your hair. Usually you’d just ignore him, but he seemed to really enjoy seeing how far he could push you until you snapped. Which seemed to be more often than not.

“Knock it off!” You snapped, shoving his large hand away as you fixed your tank top again. The warm summer sun was about to melt you, you didn’t need Gator’s irritating voice to add to that. You brushed your hand across your shoulder for good measure, trying to erase the feeling of his fingers against your skin.

“They’re falling.” He stated as he leaned against the barn, cocking his eyebrows up towards his forehead as you struggled to balance the basket of vegetables against your hip. You slowly bent down for the eggs next, careful not to drop them this time around.

“Because you won’t leave them alone.” You replied in annoyance, speaking the truth as you successfully held onto both baskets. His lips curled into a smirk, perfectly pink and smooth as he brought his vape up towards his lips.

“Maybe you shouldn’t dress like a tramp then.” He stated as he shrugged his shoulders, mocking you as he pushed his lips out into a mocking pout. Asshole. He’d made a point of calling you that since he’d accidentally found a pair of your thongs.

“Maybe you should mind your business,” You told him seriously, ignoring the way your tank top straps fell down your shoulders again, “Or you could help carry something.” You said seriously, feeling like all he wanted to do today was watch you.

“Okay stepsis.” He smirked as he took the basket of eggs from your arm. His fingers lingered against your side for a second too long, spending sparks up the side of your body. You quickly shoved him off, like usual. He was grabby.

“Don’t call me that.” You mumbled as you carried the vegetables back inside of the house. He wasn’t your brother and you weren’t his sister. You were just two strangers stuck underneath the same roof. Forced into close proximity.

“What should I call you then?” He teased as he dropped his elbows onto the counter in front of you, resting his chin on his knuckles. You inhaled deeply, wondering how badly it would hurt if you whacked him with the carrot in your hands, “Sour puss?”

“No.” You ignored his gaze as you turned the water on, beginning to scrub the dirt away from the vegetables. He leaned across, purposely shutting the faucet off.

“Okay, darlin’.” His lips curled into another annoying smirk, brown eyes flashing in mischief as he held his hand over the handle. Challenging you, he was definitely playing with you. You could feel your blood boiling as he swaggered his way towards you, standing behind you in a looming manner.

“Stop it.” You demanded, huffing as you shook your head as his fingers fell against the curve of your neck. You didn’t want him to call you anything. And you really didn’t want him to touch you. You wanted to continue to pretend like he didn’t exist, like your whole life hadn’t been uprooted into this little hell.

He leaned towards you, breath fruity as he hummed near your ear. Goosebumps spread down your neck, across your body as your fingers became frozen. Everything felt too warm suddenly. Too intense as you snapped your eyes towards his.

“Sure thing, mama.” He grinned as he pulled away, sun rays dancing off of his eyes to create a golden hue as he slowly pulled away. His tone was deep, raspy even as he blew the words out towards you. Your heart hammered roughly inside of your chest, veins burning from the electricity that had suddenly swarmed through your bones.

It was odd, such a weird little name that for some reason left you tongue tied and your expression frozen into a state of shock. Your fingers dug so tightly into the carrot that you thought you might snap it in half.

His expression was cocky, far too full of himself as he turned on his heel. Your eyes lingered against the back of his head, listening to the sound of his footsteps retreating up the stairs as you desperately tried to dig your way out of your frazzled state.

Nights were harder for you. The lack of sun reminded you of your loneliness, of the hole growing in your chest as you listened to the rain pitter-patter against your window.

Your room looked ancient, like the decor hadn’t changed since the house had first been built. All of the things that were a part of you had been left in your former house, cities away with your father. The one you were really missing right now.

You weren’t sure what your mother saw in Roy, but it was enough for her to pack up the both of you and leave your life behind. All of your hopes and dreams. Now you were stuck here; in a crowded house surrounded by politics you didn’t want to discuss and strict rules you didn’t understand.

You jumped, nearly jolting out of your bones at the flash of lightning striking right outside of your window. Thunder rumbled next, sounding like a freight train as strong winds shook the house. It was too dark to look outside, to really see the storm that was brewing.

You gripped your blankets to your chest, not usually so affected by the dark and rageful storms. But tonight felt different. Perhaps it was because the weather mirrored your emotions, your anger. It was frightening. And you were lonely. The feeling was so intense that you were scared you might drown in it. Or from the rain.

The power finally went out, just straight died as the fan in your room came to a sudden halt. The air quickly grew muggy, hot and overbearing as you kicked the blankets off of your legs. You could sleep without one.

But then when you turned on your side you pictured a horrible face, frightful and completely unnatural as you snapped your eyes open and then pulled your knees up to your chest. Just to be safe. You wouldn’t put it past Gator to hide in your room and grab your feet.

The rain did nothing to stifle your thoughts as you blindly walked towards the door, letting it creak open as you peeked outside. It took a moment for your eyes to adjust to the darkness before you confirmed that no one else was moving. Just as usual. Everyone else was going on with their lives.

Candles. You needed candles. Or a flashlight. Some sort of light that wouldn’t leave you in the dark. Especially in this house that seemed to breathe and move on its own. So old that the floorboards had a voice of its own.

The crash of thunder and downpour of rain covered up the squeaky boards you stepped on, leaving you in a blanket of darkness as you blindly searched through the hallways. Downstairs was too risky, and you wouldn’t dare go into Roy’s room.

You searched for the bathroom handle, stumbling around until you were able to wrap your fingers around the doorknob. You blinked a few times, trying to give yourself some sort of sight in the pitch black hallway. No avail. You were still surrounded in it as you shoved the door open.

“What the hell are you doing?” Gator’s voice rang into the room, making you jolt as the door slammed open against the wall. You winced, quickly grabbing it as you realized your mistake. You’d gone too far.

“Do you have any candles?” You asked as you furrowed your eyebrows together, glad that he couldn’t see your frazzled state. You needed some sort of excuse for just barging in. You didn’t want to admit that the dark house had scared you.

“No,” He huffed, bed creaking to signal that he must be sitting up, “What are you doing?” He asked, his voice gruff. You jolted as the door slammed shut behind you, leaving your heart pumping roughly inside of your chest.

“It’s dark.” You stated as you crossed your arms over your chest, suddenly remembering how thin your nightgown was. You never wore it outside of your room and owned it just to combat the heat of the house.

“The power went out,” He stated, voice condescending as you rolled your eyes, “Sure you weren’t looking for something else?” He was mocking you, teasing you like you had crawled in here for some other reason. Pervert.

“No.” You took a step back, holding your hand out behind you as you searched for the door once again. You didn’t enjoy being locked in here with him. Perhaps your loneliness would be better.

“Shame.” He teased as a bright light fell onto your face. You squinted your features up, clenched your eyes shut as you quickly covered your face to keep from being blinded by the bright flashlight.

“You’re a dick,” You huffed, “Give me that.” You stepped forward, blinking your eyes slowly until your knees hit his mattress. At least with a flashlight you could read. That would distract you.

“Not with that attitude.” He snorted as he turned the light off, giving you the brief glimpse of his shirtless form. It made you gulp, your insides tightening from the sight. You’d seen him in his wife beaters before, but never completely bare.

“You said I could have it.” You argued as you held your hands against your hips, wondering why he had to be such a pest all the time. You had asked nicely.

“I did not.” He argued in response, holding the flashlight on the other side of the bed as you reached for it. You grumbled, swatting for it again as you tumbled into the bed with him. His mattress creaked underneath the weight of the two of you, the headboard rattling off against his thin walls.

“Stop it,” You whined, fully knowing you were being just as immature as he yanked the flashlight away from the tips of your fingers again. Your legs fell between his, twisting together as you continued to fight with him, “Gator, knock it off.” You huffed, jabbing your fingers between his ribs this time in hopes that he would release it.

He yelped, dropping the heavy flashlight with a thud as it rolled underneath the bed. You huffed, trying to untangle yourself from him and reach underneath the bed for it. Your muscles strained as he gripped your wrists, yanking you back and shoving you underneath him.

You froze underneath him, fingers clenched into a fist as you met his warm eyes. You could almost make out the confusion, the want and need in them as your morals slipped away. His body was warm over yours, slid against yours perfectly like a missing puzzle piece. It was like you could feel the electricity spurring between the two of you.

Thunder drew you out of your thoughts, making you lurch as your body pressed fully against his this time. Making him moan. Oh God. He was too close to comfort, but you couldn’t find the will to push him away. You could feel something sparking deep inside of you.

His body was heavy over yours, warm as his breath coated the crook of your neck. Your insides felt like they had melted away from the heat, slipped into the cracks of the floor as he rutted his hips down against yours.

A gasp left your lips as he crossed a dangerous territory, your clit throbbing in pleasure as his rough palms fell against the curve of your neck. You breathed in deeply, trying to ignore how close his mouth was to yours as you rolled your hips forward to meet his.

Bad. This was very bad. But it felt really good.

The dark room did nothing to shield the intense look in his eyes as his gaze met yours. You nearly shied away, overcome with a rush of lust as he pushed your legs further apart. No protests fell from your lips as you moved your body upwards towards his, grinding up against his covered bulge.

You dug your fingertips into his shoulder blades, holding onto him tightly as you felt his hard cock slide against your clothed cunt. Sparks spread through your body, burning harshly as you fully grasped just how large he was. Your mouth was suddenly dry, throat raspy as your hole clenched around nothing. Desperate to be filled.

Your panties clung to your wet folds, sticking in an almost uncomfortably way as you felt your pussy leaking as he dragged the curve of his cock across your slick mess.

His lips were rough against your cheek, warm as soft moans left his lips. The sounds he created made your insides churn, twisting roughly at how whiny he grew. You gasped as you clung to him, hoping that the storm was loud enough to cover both of your messy gasps.

Your mind felt fuzzy, overcome with white hot lust as you could no longer recall why something that felt so good could be so bad. Your relationship with him didn’t matter right now, not when you were imaging the feeling of his cock inside of your slick walls. You wanted to feel him stretching you apart, sinking into you deeply.

You gasped, moans bouncing off of his bedroom walls as you rolled your hips up desperately to meet his frantic thrusts. Your clit was rubbing against his clothed cock in the right way, pleasure building deep inside of you as your fingers dug into his soft hips.

His hair fell out of place, tickling the top of your forehead as he drifted his lips over yours. You lazily pressed your mouth up against his, just enough to feel the sensation of his mouth but not actually kissing him.

“Gator,” You breathed out desperately, moaning against his warm lips as your cunt burned in anticipation, “Right there. Please.” The storm around you grew quiet as you focused on the sweet sounds that rolled off of his tongue. Never before had someone been so whiny, whimpery for you.

His eyes were half lidded as he peered down at you, tongue peaking out against his bottom lip as his fingers fell to your hips. He gripped your flesh tightly, holding you tightly as he dragged his cock across your swollen clit. You gaped, furrowing your eyebrows together as the waves crashed over you.

Heat spread through your body, moans pouring off of your tongue as you rocked your body forward in just the right way. Just enough to push you over the edge and leave you a trembling mess. You pressed yourself up against him harder, whining as the pleasure burned through you.

Your heart hammered roughly inside of your chest, rocking against your bones and flesh as your orgasm rocked through you. Gator gripped you tighter, words of encouragement twisting on his tongue as he chased his own high.

“Fuck,” He groaned as he rolled his hips forward once, then twice before he stalled on top of you, “Holy fuck.” He grunted, his tone slightly whiny as he pulled his hands away from you. He reached for the waistband of his pajama pants, leaving you in a haze as he released his hard cock from his restraints.

His dick fell heavy against your clothed cunt, resting uncomfortably against your swollen clit. You breathed out deeply, doing your best to keep from staring at his long length. You exhaled roughly, eyes briefly meeting his as he pushed your shaking fingers around his girth.

You could feel your insides twisting in pleasure again, your mind still foggy as you began to jerk your hand up and down the length of his cock. You craved the sounds that fell from his tongue, desperately wishing you could taste his sweet moans. It gave you a rush of pride, making you feel like you were doing something right as you moved your hand a little faster. Squeezed your fingers a little tighter.

“Oh God,” He whimpered, eyebrows furrowing tightly together as he messily dragged his hips forward with your quick motions. He haphazardly worked on the buttons of your nightgown, freeing the top two before he ripped the rest of it away. Buttons landed around you from his rough actions, leaving you gasping as his hands fell to your boobs, “You’re so fucking hot.” He groaned, pinching at your nipples while you squirmed underneath him.

You brushed your thumb over the tip of his cock, spreading his precum down his long length as you savored the image of his pleasure across his features. You thought it was annoying for him to look so good, so pretty.

His head fell back once again, his hair clinging to the front of his forehead as he desperately rutted his hips forward. The sound of his cock hitting your fist was obscene, dirty as precum continued to leak from his tip. You watched him, noting the lines on his features and how he was clearly trying to hold this out for as long as he could. You could push him away, leave him to finish on his own. But you didn’t.

“Wanna fuck you,” He whined, pressing all of his weight into his thrusts with your hand. You blinked slowly, imagining how good it would feel to have his cock slinking into your neglected hole, “Please, please, please.” He begged you, eyes heavy with lust as his eyes burned into yours.

You shook your head, still not that far gone as you rolled your wrist a little faster. Used your other hand to squeeze at his balls as his moans grew wider and wider. Your whole body flushed from the sounds that rolled from his tongue, definitely louder than you had ever been.

He cried out as his orgasm crashed over him, rocking through him in strong waves. You clung to him, savoring the way his features wrinkled up into pleasure and how his body shook on top of yours.

You gasped as thick ropes of cum fell onto your exposed ribs, your hardened nipples and onto your neck and chin. Messy. It was all too filthy, dirty as it laid heavily on your skin. Proof of your sin. Of his.

But he didn’t seem to mind. Not at all as he dragged his fingers across his cum, swooping it up against his fingers before he smeared it across your lips. You stared in horror for just a brief second before you licked it away, admiring the taste of him on your tongue.

His hands drifted across your curves as you swallowed his spunk roughly. It was so wrong, but that did nothing to soothe the fire inside of you. You watched as his fingers landed at the band of your panties, tugging them down your legs slowly.

You did nothing to stop him, even lifted your hips up to help him. You felt like something else had taken over, some sort of monster as a choked gasp left your lips. He turned towards you in amusement, taking a slow lick from the material. You were embarrassed at the way your legs clamped together, a fresh rush of pleasure rushing through you.

“Tramp,” He stated, eyebrows cocked together as he rolled off of you. His shoulders fell against yours, his chest rising and falling in the rhythm of yours, “See you in the mornin’.” He exhaled roughly, leaving you to stare up at the ceiling as everything came crashing down around you. You listened as he fiddled with the dresser next to him, before you were hit with the smell of fruit. He’d found his vape in the dark.

You didn’t know what to do. If it was best to stay and pretend to sleep, or to collect your regret and cling the torn material of your nightgown over your exposed body and leave.

You turned, pulling his sheet up over your chest to hide your shame. The mistake settled over you heavily, nearly drowning you as you listened to how his breathing became deeper and slower.

Avoiding Gator after that was hard. Not on your part, but certainly on his. You had given him just a little bit of what he desired and now he wouldn’t let up. He was touchier than usual, would lean in closer and whisper to you like he expected something to happen.

And it really did affect you, but you had prayed for so long after the other night that your knees were bruised from the floorboards. You weren’t doing it again. You didn’t agree with your moms choices but you didn’t want her to be disappointed with you either.

You had just finished your hair routine, your pajamas hanging loosely on your body as you took one quick glimpse of yourself in the steamy mirror. Disappointment, shame, disgust. That was all you could recognize in your eyes.

Your feet dragged across the old floorboards, making you wince as you hoped not to wake Roy again. He had been particularly rude to you the last time it had happened. But it wasn’t your fault his house was ancient.

“What are you doing here?” You hissed, quickly shutting your door behind you as you took in Garor spread out across your bed. It was slightly funny. He tried so hard to look tough and yet here he was, lying comfortably across your girlish bed.

“Does your mom know you read filth?” He asked as he flitted his eyes up towards you in amusement, holding one of your books between his fingers. You quickly crossed the room, anger brewing in your stomach as you yanked the book from his grip.

“It can’t happen again.” You replied shrilly, feeling like you were losing your mind as you clutched the book to your chest. His white shirt hung tightly to his body, slightly drifting up over his exposed hips. You could make out a tuft of hair poking out from his sweats, but you didn’t let your eyes wander for too long there.

“Why not?” He asked dryly as he pulled his vape up towards his lips, taking a deep exhale and then blowing it out into the air. You grimaced, sure that by the time you got him kicked out your whole room would reek of him. You didn’t need that remembrance, you could still feel his stains against his skin.

“Because it’s wrong,” You stated, your face burning from humiliation, “And it wasn’t supposed to happen. You’re my brother.” You reminded him, cringing as the word rolled off of your tongue. You wondered if this was the right time to bring up the panties you’d been searching for as well. You knew he had them somewhere.

“Step brother,” He corrected, “And it was just for fun.” He shrugged his shoulders, like it really was no big deal. You blinked, shaking your head at him. He just didn’t get it. You didn’t even want to think about what his dad would do if he found out.

“Get out of my room,” You told him as you took a step to the side, avoiding his gaze as he watched you the whole time, “And shut the door.” You said quickly, not wanting to deal with anymore of his antics. You just hoped he got the hint.

And for a few days it seemed like he did. He didn’t touch you, tease you or even look at you. You should be happy. But something about his actions made you bitter. You felt even more alone, stuck on this huge ranch with no one to talk to. You craved his annoying banter.

Your task for the day was cleaning the barn, but so was Gator’s. Only he had decided to do it as far away from you as possible. Which you should be glad about, but it irritated you more than anything. Perhaps that’s why you had whipped out your dress, hoping for some sort of attention from him.

Your bracelet gave way against one of the little fences, falling into a fresh bed of hay. You sighed in annoyance, unable to free the rusted locks to push it open. You paused for just a second, pushing your head between two of the wooden pieces to reach down and grasp it.

Your mistake was quickly realized as you straightened up once again, the material of your dress catching on a piece of the fence. You felt your eyes widen, clearly unable to break free without ripping your clothes off.

“Gator,” You breathed out in frustration, “I need help.” You gulped, feeling a little embarrassed as the wood dug into your ribs. You breathed in deeply, holding your breath as you tried to squeeze your way out again. No such luck.

“I’m not doing your chores.” He grumbled from across the barn, making you roll your eyes in annoyance. You quickly relaxed again, knowing you should be nice for just a moment. Even if it killed you.

“No!” You sighed as you shifted again, trying to get the back of your dress freed, “I’m stuck.” You whined as your back dragged against the fence once again. You quickly stopped in fear of getting little blisters in your skin.

“What do you mean?” He asked, the sound of his footsteps approaching as you tried to wiggle yourself out once again. How cruel. What a dumb situation you had gotten yourself into.

“I can’t get out.” You whispered, feeling defeated as your hands went limp against the wood. You waited for him to parade your defeat around, to tease you for getting yourself into such a mess. Stupid, stupid.

He laughed from behind you, clearly mocking you as his shadow formed over the floor in front of you. You fought the urge to huff, to roll your eyes and snap at him. You didn’t want to get left here.

“What are you doing?” You squeaked out in worry, feeling his boot kick your feet apart. You swallowed harshly, feeling your heart pumping roughly against the crook of your neck as his hand fell over your shoulder.

“Helping you.” He said simply, making you squeak as he pushed your shoulders further down. You gulped, chest digging into the wood below you as he fumbled with the zipper on your dress. You listened intensely, shivering underneath his touch.

“Did you get it?” You asked, pulse quickening at the feeling of his warmth against yours. You chewed on your bottom lip, trying to ignore the excitement that was pooling through you as his hands moved further down your spine, resting at your hips.

“Almost,” He mumbled, likely trying to hide his mischief as he flipped the hem of your dress up over your hips. You swallowed roughly, finding no protests as he began to rub his palms across the curve of your ass, “You’re really in there.”

You blinked slowly as you felt his rough palms across your bare skin, then back over your panties as he teasingly pulled the band of them and then released it roughly against your skin. You gasped, jolting as you wiggled your hips in response.

“Uh huh,” You hummed along, nerves jolting around roughly as you felt his bulge against the back of your thigh. You fought the urge to stick your hips up higher in the air, wishing that you didn’t want him as badly as you did. Maybe God wasn’t watching, “Can you fix me?” You asked softly, hating that your view was of the hay covered ground and not of his handsome features.

You shut your eyes as you listened to the sound of his belt coming undone, then the feeling of your panties sliding down your thighs. You pondered for just a quick second, trying to decide if you were really going to allow this to happen.

“Gator,” You squeaked out in surprise, eyes snapping open as you felt his fingers spread your folds apart. You chewed on your bottom lip, standing up on your tippy toes to bring yourself closer to him, “Oh my God.” You exhaled roughly, eyes widening as the head of his cock fell against your cunt.

“You’ve got such a pretty tang,” He praised you, making you whimper as he continued to drag his tip in between your folds, “Wanna feel her so bad.” You moaned at his filthy words, wanting to feel him too. Morals be damned.

“Please,” You desperately tried to turn to face him, only to be reminded of the wood in front of your face, “Need it so badly.” You moaned as his palm fell against the side of your ass, the sound echoing as prickles of pain spread across your skin.

He squeezed his fat cock through your hole, leaving you breathless as he slid inside of you slowly. Each inch made it harder to breathe, to think as the pleasure traveled deep through your body. It was so wrong, but felt so right.

You whined as his cock filled you to the brim, making your eyes roll out at the delicious way your cunt stretched around his girth. Your fingertips dug into the wood, gripping onto anything for support as your legs threatened to give out.

You exhaled roughly, lips falling apart as spit fell to the corner of your lips. Every rough movement from him made you feel like he was sinking into you deeper, like he was meant to be buried deep inside of you.

His hands were hot against your skin, exploring every inch and curve as he slowly dragged his cock out until only his tip remained. You couldn’t control the sound of your moans as he slammed back into you, the tip of his cock pressing roughly against your bundle of nerves each time.

“Gator,” You whined as you licked at your wet lips, drooling onto the floor as he rutted his dick deep inside of you. Your eyes felt hazy, heavy as he hit his palm roughly across your exposed ass cheek, “Oh Christ.”

You felt like you were burning as he continued to push his cock deep inside of you, making your toes curl in your boots. No thoughts of how wrong this was crossed your mind as he continued to drag your limp body back against his cock, your cunt leaking around his thick girth.

“Yeah?” He grunted as he continued to squeeze at your flesh, sounding out of breath as the sound of his balls hitting your skin echoed in the barn, “You like your big brother’s cock?” He hummed the dirty words towards you, not at all leaving you in disgust.

You whined as you desperately grinded back against him, eyes rolling back in bliss as he reached around to rub at your swollen clit. He groaned from behind you, deep and whiny as he messily rocked his hips against your ass. There wasn’t much rhythm to his motions, but you were both so desperate that it worked.

“Mhm, yes, yes,” You whined, unable to control your tongue as the pleasure burned deep inside of you. You were sure you’d never felt something so dirty and pleasurable at the same time, “Harder. Please, please.” You begged this time, putty in his hands as he snapped his hips harder inside of your leaking cunt.

Your pleasure felt like wildfire, untameable and intense as your walls clamped down across his thick girth. The sounds of your body meeting filled your ears in a sweet melody as everything else disappeared around you. All you cared about was how good he was making you feel.

His powerful motions moved you onto the tips of your toes, almost knocking your head towards the floor as you held onto the fence tightly. It shook underneath the weight of you two, like it wasn’t built to keep either of you in place. But Gator didn’t seem to mind. And neither did you.

“Oh God,” You breathed out, moans mingling with his whines as he desperately dug his fingertips into your flesh, sure to leave marks. The curve of his cock fit inside of you perfectly as he dragged you up and down his long length, leaving you desperate for more. You wanted to feel all of him, “More, more.”

“Fucking whore,” He huffed, just as out of breath as you were. But you could still make out the smirk on his tone. But you had no fight left as you whimpered in agreement, knowing without a doubt that this was the worst thing you’d ever done, “God, you feel so good.” He whined as spit fell down across your ass, gliding smoothly off of your skin.

The pleasure was too intense for you, too crushing as your shaky legs fell together. You whimpered, unable to find the words to speak as your muscles clamped from your bliss. You exhaled, moaning as your climax crashed over you roughly.

Gator cooed as he rocked you through it, his fingers rubbing at your bud between your legs as his thrusts became messier. Rougher. It all felt too good, too blissful.

“Gator,” You whined as you licked at your lips again, sighing as you felt his slick balls hit against your skin once again. You enjoyed the feeling of him buried deep inside of you, far more than you should, “Jesus.” You spit out, unable to say anything else as he moaned in response.

“Fuck, fuck,” He huffed, whimpering as his voice cracked from his own pleasure. He held onto you tightly, the tip of his cock pressing deeply against your spongy walls as his cock throbbed inside of you, “Feels so fucking good.” His tone was rough as he came inside of you, painting your walls white with his cum.

The deed settled roughly on top of you as you breathed in deeply, listening to his rough pants as he pulled his hands away from your sore clit. You whimpered as you felt him pull free a second later, leaving an empty feeling that spread through you.

You could feel the mixture of the two of you dripping from your swollen hole, but he quickly collected the combination of your cum with his. He shoved it back inside of your cunt with his long fingers, making you gape from the sensation.

“Such a slutty girl,” He teased, leaving you breathless as he curled his cum deep inside of you, “My favorite little sister.”

#Gator Tillman #Gator Tillman smut #Gator Tillman x reader #Gator Tillman x fem!reader #Gator Tillman x female reader #Gator Tillman x you #Gator Tillman x Y/N #Gator Tillman stepcest #Stepcest #tw stepcest #tw pseudocest

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hoseoksluna · 6 days ago

Text

THE BALL OF LIGHT, iii. | jjk

pairing: friend!jeongguk x fem!oc

genre: heavy angst, fluff

rating: 15+

word count: 7.8k

summary: the rules yoongi made in your life are doomed to collapse.

pin: ball of light / taglist: join / discord: join / masterlist: run

cp: tba

warnings: biker!jungkook, smoking and vaping, oc is learning what it's like to be platonically touched and loved, state of numbness, anxiety, betrayal, lying, spying.

note: i love this chapter so much. i finally feel connected to the characters, which is something that i was lacking in the first two chapters. i broke sweat writing this and i spent hours on this. don't be a silent reader and have mercy on me. let me know what you think. <3

The vaporous retrospection of Jeongguk’s hands offered you solace beneath the slanted downpour of the hot shower stream. Using the slender, satiny, beige scrunchie that is used more as a statement bracelet of yours than a ponytail holder, you seized your long bob into your trembling fists and put it up, imagining it were Jeongguk’s stable and strong fingers working around the sleek fabric, making sure your hair didn’t soak one drop of the water.

The tears had halted, somehow, the moment your foot lifted over the shower floor. You let the stream dribble over your face, wash away your awkward moment of weakness—the mascara you rubbed off, the ebony teardrop-shaped trails of your agony that in another dimension wasn’t agony at all, but the velvet antithesis of it. Something very akin to the homely-like joy, warmth and a connection you could depend on. This is what you did, more often than not. Set your imagination into motion as a form of coping mechanism that would smooth out all the nerves in your system that had been wrung out into an unnatural, unrecognizable architecture.

It wasn’t that Yoongi didn’t typify a wall you could lean against. Vitally and physically, he did. Daily, you had a roof over your head and food in your tummy. But metaphorically and emotionally, that wall he embodied was too sturdy. Impossible to break through. Impossible to speak through. And that could never be the connection your soul so earnestly sought.

That could never be anything at all.

Nothing awaited you on the other side of this dead end.

Jeongguk helped you perceive that. With his hands, with his wise words that caused such tumultuous chaos in your body. Enough for you to find the nearest exit and isolate yourself. Weep in peace. Wash it all away. And it felt as though someone up above, beyond the clouds and the stars, wrote down this moment a long time ago. Made it so Jeongguk would offer you a chance to shower—in fact made it so the first snow of the wintertime would begin to fall and block your way home.

What would’ve happened if your bus did come after all, if you stubbed Jeongguk’s cigarette and waved him goodbye?

You would be still standing in front of this dead end, in front of this sky-high wall. Not half-pivoted to leave, not considering other options. Not carrying the closest experiences of physical touch in your hands. Not feeling warmth. Not swallowing the aftertaste of Jeongguk’s cinnamon tea. Not having the ghost and the reaction of his hands as an anchor you cling to.

You would have nothing. Just like you did your entire life.

And if the turmoil never happened, it wouldn’t have made this much difference. It wouldn’t have ripped open a hole in this nothingness; it wouldn’t have shattered the iron of your shackle. Because it was this turmoil of his, this pain of his, that coaxed that wisdom out of him, despite his fatal flaw. His friend became yours—and beneath the shower stream, you came to terms with it.

With the principle that makes life a life: no pain, no gain.

Rain brings flowers, and the more you dwelled in the memory of Jeongguk’s hands, the more the buds of blossoms opened with more sense of safety and comfort upon your tree. Because they made you feel this way.

His arm lifting in your direction at the sound of your cry, then whisking back to his side in respect. His hands warmer than the cup they were holding, not twitching at the throe of the scalding liquid. Good, good hands, belonging to a good person.

Nothing about him is unsafe, even when he exposes the painful truth over your life. How could anything about him be unsafe by any means, when the only shower gel he had was of that cinnamon fragrance.

He’s no longer the essence of macadamia, musk and cedarwood.

He’s cinnamon through and through. The spice of sweetness, the spice of winter. The epitome of warmth and carefulness, profound and unforgettable in taste.

The tears you weep next are for him. For the deeply-buried unrequited affection he has for Ka-eun. For the unfair, horrendous treatment he deals with day by day. For all the love he stores within himself while having no one, absolutely no one, to give it to.

And feverish pearls of thankfulness trickle out of your tear ducts for him, too. For the freedom he so freely and selflessly engraved into the flesh of your heart that you sense won’t overgrow anytime soon.

Pearls of thankfulness that he’s a witness of, for he stands at the door. Puffy mouth agape, chocolate eyes wide beneath thick-rimmed glasses. Something is ringing—you can’t hear it, but you can feel the pulse of the noise. The alarm that beats in his aura as he’s frozen on the spot, unknowing what to do. He can’t see one inch of your body due to the tinted hue of the glass separating you from him, but he can see your tears. Can see their flow. And perhaps he can see their inner sadness, too.

You don’t feel naked. You were bare and raw while fully clothed just a while ago in his kitchen, but right now with nothing to cover you, there’s nothing to be ashamed of. His irises don’t glide down. Don’t even dare to skim down to the darkly shadowed back of your shoulder that faces him. His mouth moves, the ball of his Adam’s apple leaps nearly to his chin as he swallows, but you just can’t hear a damn thing.

And then the ringing grows in volume. A sound that pierces your eardrum, that rips your gaze away from him as soon as your hearing senses accept it. Your brows pull in, the shrillness of the sonancy reverberating through your sternum like icy gunfire—and you wish it was softer, you wish the everlasting coldness wouldn’t stalk you, and you wish you would stay warm.

You inhale and exhale. Tightness swathes your chest and the following breath you take is shallow, not enough for your lungs. Panic settles in, your arms wrap around your body, and then… shadow.

Shadow inches in. Spreads its wingspan.

When you glance behind your shoulder, the glass door is open. Jeongguk stands at the entrance with his graceful hands holding up a towel for you. His head is turned to the side, unwilling to look at your nakedness out of that respect of his.

You don’t have control over your body when you step out of the shower and into the cotton of the makeshift security of those wings. Using the carefulness he’s patched together with, he wraps the largeness of the towel around you. As if you were a small child, being dried off by its father. The only spots of your form he touches are your shoulders and the upper planes of your chest. Your eyelids are heavy with the weight of your tears and a certain tiredness from the day as your irises flick to his. And the spell of your numbness, little by little, breaks because he looks right down at you with utmost seriousness and concern.

He sees you.

You’re seen.

“Hold it,” he murmurs, speaking of the two edges of the towel, the edges of the wings that he still holds together with his fist. Those corners of his mouth are downturned, just like they were when you entered his apartment. You mimic that pout, lamenting that you’re making him feel this way, that it’s your fault the turmoil has come back to him, even though the shared negative emotion smears your chest with warmth. It’s an oxymoron, your guilt laced with your desire to stay in this dimmed microcosm with him.

It reminds you of the connection you seek. It resembles it too, too much.

You fold your arm beneath the towel and pinch the edges together, gripping his fingers in the process. A shiver cascades down your spine due to that layered touch and Jeongguk blinks, lingering in your clasp for a moment before he lets go, leaning over to turn off the water.

Grateful, you are. For him, for the way he’s allowing you to experience such an imperative part of humanity that you could never reach. You yearn to hug him, not speak a vowel, and just exist in this newness.

You don’t know what any of this means. You’re conscious of the shift, the shift of the gravity between you and him, but none of it carries the weight of romance. He encapsulates something else, something way bigger, abstruse and abstract.

Something that could kill you… or save you in a millisecond.

“What was that?” Jeongguk asks, his voice still low and murmuring. There’s an impenetrable depth to his pensive eyes that somehow quickens the speed of your recuperation. His question casts a light on you that is blinding, but you can bear it. After what happened in his kitchen, you can, truly, handle anything. “I knocked. Multiple times. I called out to you, but you didn’t answer back.”

His eyes flick between yours, searching for an explanation, demanding it, and you’d give him anything… anything he’d ask after the way he turned your life around.

“I—” you begin but trail off, not knowing how to explain the frailty of your mental health. You, too, comb through his eyelashes in pursuit of help for your words, but what you come across are not letters but the vast prettiness of his being.

Your knees give out on you, weakened by him, and a snuggly blanket of completion comes to rest over you because Jeongguk’s arm jerks towards your direction again and this time, he doesn’t let it drift back. He places his palm on your arm, holding you steady so you don’t plummet to the ground, lingering there once again.

Life-giving, that gesture is. You feel your blood pumping throughout the pathways of your veins with more vigor, enlivening your entire body, helping you come out of the fog of your stupor. The sap in your tree thickens and you can see more clearly, hear with a better precision and breathe without any pinpricks or heftiness in your lungs.

Freedom spreads down your limbs, rooting from the warmth pooling in the dent of your arm, the part of you that Jeongguk is gripping. A cult leader, he’s become. A savior, a dangerous man. And you shall never be his companion again—you’ll be his follower until the day you cease to exist on this earth.

“Are you okay?” he asks, abruptly breathless, and the axis of his grip opens out, descending down to the rounded edge of your elbow. His thumb traces circles on that fleshiness and the comfort you receive from it brings forth your liquid emotions. They spill down onto your cheeks, but you’re not ashamed of them. You’re not ashamed of anything anymore.

“I’m okay,” you say and you mean it—because you’ve stepped inside an environment that feels so terribly secure, so terribly grounding, a place that will never leave the internal realm of your soul.

Jeongguk scans your face, brows knitted. “Tell me what’s going on.”

You inhale, tipping your face down to rub away your tears with your towel-clothed knuckles. “Sometimes when I get overwhelmed I go numb… that’s all.”

His circles halt. A nebulous shadow eclipses over his tense features. “Did I cause this?”

Your lips part. “You told me something I really needed to hear, something that was hard for me to accept. You helped me, Jeongguk.”

His brows twitch and it is like sunlight filtering through the clouds, the way a small ball of light delicately breaks through the shadow on his face. Your heart writes it down on the bark of your tree in flowery prose—it is a moment that gives you the inkling that you should remember it, and you’re not really sure why.

Jeongguk pats down your arm. A singular, ephemeral and a significant caress that is charged with a range of words that he doesn’t get to say, for a phone rings somewhere behind the place you’re standing. He nods his chin towards it, sliding his hands into the pockets of his black sweatpants, and it is now that you perceive that he’s changed out of his scrubs into a monochrome leisure outfit. A black oversized top, matching sweats, socked-feet inside white slippers. Even his glasses fit his choice of color—a prettification that makes your knees wobble again, but not in such a drastic way as before.

“This is the fourth time he’s calling you,” he says, speaking of the phone ringing, but you have very little care for it. Your body, automatically, out of horrible habit, tells you to care, but you feel a strong tendril of strength that helps you resist it, stand up to it—and stand up to your brother. “That’s why I’m here. He won’t stop.”

You glimpse behind your shoulder at the screen of your phone filled with only the letters of Yoongi’s name. No picture, no emoji. You think that quite perfectly illustrates your relationship with him and you scoff, returning your gaze back to Jeongguk, who nibbles his lower lip absentmindedly, eyes following each movement you make.

Yoongi can’t get to you when you’re inside this environment. He doesn’t have the key to it.

The ringing falls to nothingness and a half-minute passes before he calls again. Anger curls in your gut and you turn around, snatching your phone off the ivory bathroom sink, because if you don’t bite the bullet and answer his call, he won’t leave you alone. You press the green button and before you can place the device to your ear and say something, Yoongi beats you to it.

He spills out his radical worry, intertwining your name into the sentence that threatens to impair your environment.

“Why didn’t you pick up the phone? I was worried sick that something happened to you. You should’ve been home an hour ago—”

Your towel shifts as your trembling returns to you, nearly exposing your vulnerable parts, and you set your phone down on the sink, putting him on speaker phone. You wrap the soft fabric tighter around you and connect your gaze to Jeongguk’s in the mirror. Your brother spills on, no longer interrupted.

Sorrowfulness, in vivid hues of blue, draws out across Jeongguk’s countenance.

“—It’s snowing like crazy. Where are you?”

Your throat dries, but you will your strength to last a little longer. You clench your fists and do not tear your eyes away from Jeongguk’s, which seem to have the same determination. He’s a monumental pillar, ready to catch you if you feel faint, and you feel this in a great depth that has the epoch-making ability to replenish you. Even far away in a memory, you deem.

“I’m with a friend,” you croak out and you repeat the short sentence with a bit more heroism because you don’t wish to be suggestive of weakness. Not again, not ever. A subdued light floods Jeongguk’s eyes in slow motion at your words, giving you a sense of pride and validation. A specialty of his; it must be the bottom of his kindness, the foundation of his heart—this very unique act of emotional service. And you close your palm over it, clinging to it with all your might. “I was taking a shower. I’ll get dressed and come home.”

The truth in the rawest form; the exposure of your life beyond the restraints of his standards. You fear his reaction, you fear his reaction so much that within the silence of him comprehending your words you almost go to seek Jeongguk’s comfort in any way he’s willing to give you, but Yoongi stops you.

Yoongi surprises you.

“Okay. Give me your friend’s address. I’ll pick you up.”

Your heart, with full force, kicks against your ribcage just once.

You didn’t expect his resignation—and you would’ve never guessed it would come plaited with such a gentle form of care, for his care has never been gentle. It has always been stifling, frantic and utterly manic.

And the way you lick your lips, swallow and take a new breath in this even newer reality, it feels as though you won. You won the invisible war with your brother who has wounded you too much for you to get up.

But you did.

You got up, and Jeongguk refreshed you, prepared you to fight back and win this round.

It must be his words in your mouth, ones he silently transmitted to you through your potent eye contact with him in the mirror. It must be, you believe it to be so, because at this moment you’re too stunned to do anything.

“No need. My friend will give me a ride home.”

Jeongguk visibly relaxes, nodding solemnly, approving. A spasm of excitement buzzes in your tummy at the sight, and you can’t help the small growth of your smile. And it, too, is complete when he half reciprocates it, a dimple appearing by the corner of his mouth that is lifted in your honor, in the honor of what you both managed to do in the span of one hour.

“Alright, tell her to drive slow.”

Yoongi ends the phone call. Jeongguk pulls his hands out of his pockets and begins to crack his knuckles, rolling his shoulders back as if he were in a stressful situation that strained all of his muscles. You bite your lip to relieve yourself of all the buzzing sensations that crawl upon your every nerve ending, but your abrupt laughter releases your teeth from the pillow.

Her.

You laugh so hard that it forces you to hide your face in the towel, the sound muffled but real, alive and exhilarating. And when you peek at Jeongguk in the mirror for the last time, you catch his smile widening and breaking, at last, into a grin that mirrors your enthusiasm.

“This is your life,” he rasps, adding your name, which propels butterflies to tickle, fleetly, your tummy. “Your life by your own rules. Enjoy every moment of it. You deserve it.”

And with that he leaves, clicking the door shut behind him.

Your tea has gone cold, but the cinnamon scent is still prominent.

Jeongguk is manspreading on the couch, one fist propped on his thigh while he is hunched over his loud phone that he clutches in his other hand. He doesn’t notice you as you paddle softly to the kitchen counter to take a sip of your tea—and it isn’t until you slurp the nippy liquid that he rips his attention away from the videos he was watching. He locks his phone immediately, pocketing it, and bathes his crepuscular apartment in an ample silence.

You're glad for the lack of light.

Witnessing the state of you without his presence was a scare. The traces of your mascara tears were scattered with flecks and specks on your cheeks that the stream didn’t rinse off, and your eyelids have become swollen with the excessive amount of crying you’ve done within the fateful hour. Your excitement hasn’t been shunned by your sparsity of confidence, however. In fact, it keeps on increasing, having transfigured into a velvet ribbon that you wrapped around the bark of your tree whilst getting dressed. You fondled it then and you fondle it now, dwelling on the matter that went down, and how good it felt. How right, how freeing. But owing to what happened, to what Jeongguk has done for you, you’d much rather be pretty in his eyes right now.

And you’re anything but pretty.

You’re a ruination. About to be rebuilt into something pretty. Or someone.

Setting the cup down, you smile at the taste of cinnamon and cloves, liking the way it is so redolent of who Jeongguk is. You hope it fills your dreams later tonight, bursting there into smithereens that you can carry inside yourself.

As little talismans.

To keep you company. To keep the perception of the safety Jeongguk had provided you tucked within the crevices of your body—so you can go back to it, remind yourself of it as soon as you start to forget.

“Ready to go?”

His voice penetrates the silence, announcing that you are to leave the fortress-like environment you are already missing. You direct your eyes, for the last time, at the little gleeful Gingerbread man, graze the tip of your thumb over his smile in an effort to engrave it there as a keepsake. And then you nod, though you’re not ready.

You’ll never be ready. What if your freedom disappears as soon as you cross the threshold of your home?

You blink the thought away. Grow weary of your deathless fear that just continues rising in your psyche. You wish you could kill it—or rather have Jeongguk asphyxiate it, just so it stops whispering those what ifs, those questions and those hostile words.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

Jeongguk walks past you and returns to his place where he stood a little while ago. He places two black helmets on the counter. One bigger and one particularly smaller. You wonder if it belonged to Ka-eun once, if the inside of the helmet is still perfumed with the scent of her hair.

Another ifs.

You look away. Your forefinger finds his pink vape, fondling it, saying goodbye. You’ll terribly miss this life you lived in this apartment—and once you get home, you plan to pray for another snow, so you can escape, so you can live properly. Here within this warmth; here where all things are possible, aromatic and whimsical.

Jeongguk studies you, and as soon as you instinctively glance at him, he extends his hand and closes his fingers around your tousled bun. It brings back a memory, a painful memory of the past, when your father would run his fingers through your wet hair. Back when you were a child, when everything was normal and your father loved you. No matter the weather, you would slip away to the petite creek behind the house. Your hair was so long that it would drift upon those soft ripples. Even the wind would gather it and soak it in the water—to cleanse it off all the bad words your mother would utter over it. Too long. It’s shameful. It gets in your food. It’s wet again? It’s dripping all over my floors. Mop it up. God, you’re useless. Do it properly. Water was invariably your means of escapism. Oh, how could it not be when you’re a water sign yourself. And your father was the only one who would dry your hair with a hand towel he would keep in his study for you before your mother saw, before she could curse you for another lifetime.

And the way Jeongguk does it now, you metamorphose into that small child that never did anything right. Suddenly, your hair is long again—and you didn’t cut it when you turned fifteen and your father somehow stopped loving you, stopped paying attention to you, stopped drying your hair. And as small as you are right now, your heart regrets the loss of your dearest papa.

Your hair hasn’t been touched since the death of him.

Since he couldn’t touch it anymore from the afterlife.

The tears burn now behind your eyes, but you stifle them back. You don’t want to cry anymore, you don’t want to experience this pain any longer. You can’t even look at Jeongguk in fear those liquid feelings would betray your will; you can only focus your gaze on that vape of his. And before you know what you’re doing, you're grasping it and placing it between your lips.

My nerves are asking for more, he had said and you relate to him on such a profound level that it feels gratifying once you puff on it and the strawberry scent imbues your lungs—to such an extent that when you respire, you can feel it mingling with the oxygen. It’s still there. Such sweetness. You understand why he likes it so much, why he can’t stay away from it and smokes it, despite the fact he shouldn’t mix it with his cigarettes.

Jeongguk smiles through the ivory fume, drifting his hand up to the crown of your head before he inspects the face-framing wisps. They’re damp, but not wet, not like the ball of your bun.

He lets his hand fall to his side. You lament it.

“Your hair is wet,” he says gently, pursing his lips. “I don’t know if your bun will fit inside the helmet. You should put it inside your sweater, so you don’t get sick.”

It is something akin to a religious experience, not being told off for having wet hair. You mull over it, the fact he cares enough to tell you what to do, so you don’t get stricken with illness. The tears rush forth with more verve, and you try your hardest to not cry again. It’s like your father, a healthy and younger and pre-you version of him, is standing in front of you. Out of this world, heavenly, this moment is.

You take another puff. You must.

“It’s good, isn’t it?” Jeongguk asks, a lopsided smile hanging upon his lips. His eyes flick down to your parted mouth exhaling out the smoke that blends in with the cinnamon spice. “Keep it.”

You blink in surprise. “Are you sure?”

He nods, busying himself with something on the other side of the kitchen, beside his refrigerator. In a minute he’s back, carrying a bulbous sack of foreign items that he plants into your free hand.

“Take these fruits home. I put the cinnamon tea inside, too.”

You part your mouth, touched to the core. Open the sack and uncover that he’s put inside three figs and two teabags. You pout, whisk your eyes back to him to see him nibbling on his lip, features back to being solemn and glossy. He’s breaking a sweat—perhaps fearful that you’ll turn him down, laugh at it and brush it off. You’re heard of Ka-eun doing this on many occasions and if there’s anything you could do for him, to caress that scar of his, you shall not be like her.

You fold the paper sack and clutch it to your chest.

“I’ll eat it and drink it all,” you say, but you don’t mean the latter. You’ll put the teabags on your nightstand—to have him close. “Thank you. You’re so kind.”

His following exhale is a sigh of relief and he nods, irises preoccupied with something on the upper part of your sternum. When you follow his sight, he’s already taking a step forward and discarding you of the unknown thing that he was focusing on. You realize it’s a fluff from the towel when he flicks it off from his fingertip—and then, as if he didn’t do such a groundbreaking thing for you, he takes both of the helmets.

“I’d give you more but that's all I have.”

The ground breaks, and so does your heart.

He turns on his heel and heads for the hall. The atmosphere is hushful, but tranquil as you both put on your shoes and jackets. Jeongguk holds the door open for you, waiting for you to step out first before he does. He clicks it shut, waits again for the sing-song tone to tell him it’s locked, and then you’re in the elevator.

The elevator that is microscopic, even for two people.

You glance behind yourself at the mirror, find yourself pallid and colorless. Insecurity gnaws at you, and so you pinch your cheeks, one by one. Jeongguk watches you and shakes his head at you once you notice his stare. There’s no room, no time for any exchange for words because the elevator opens and he signals to you to go first with a tilt of his head.

And that is what brings color to your cheeks, not your pinching.

His bike outside of the apartment complex stands forlornly. The black cover over it is densely snow-laden, and the snowflakes flutter and spin in the air more tenderly than they did earlier. You, yourself, stand back with your sack and watch him do the work. He hands you, wordlessly, your helmet and once his hand is free, he slides his own down his head, popping open the visor. Nimbly, he takes both ends of the cover and lets the snow glissade down on the patch of grass behind his bike, which is draped with the same substance. Then, he expertly folds it and stuffs it inside the trunk, lifting his arm in your direction and asking for the sack, which he neatly places inside as well.

You’re breathless once he’s finished—and you’re empty of all air when he begins to concentrate on you.

His eyes are saturated with something sensitively dark as he takes your helmet from your arm. The close proximity tugs at your heart and you feel smaller than you did in his apartment. Smaller in a way that suggests you’re being taken care of. His icy hands undo your bun, but he doesn’t give you back your scrunchie. Mindlessly, he drags it down his wrist. Your cheeks heat up within this wuthering vicinity, and Jeongguk protects your wet hair from the wind by pulling the hem of your scarf over your head, tucking your strands inside. Your lungs forget to breathe when he glides the helmet down your head with extra tenderness and necessitates for your eyes, flipping up the visor.

His hands remain on the helmet as if upon your cheeks, inspecting.

Always inspecting.

“All good?”

Your heart does a somersault. You nod.

“Are you scared?”

It’s not hitting you yet—the fact you’ll drift through the snowy streets with nothing to protect the sides of your body. No seatbelt, nothing. Only trust in the driver.

“I’ll drive slow,” Jeongguk adds, his words an allusion to Yoongi’s, and you huff out a soft laugh, the lightheartedness from the occurrence consuming you all over again.

He taps the side of your helmet and walks towards his bike. Doesn’t laugh, doesn’t smile—as if he didn’t share your enthusiasm in that aspect. He swings a leg over the body of the vehicle and presses the start button, the engine roaring into the evening. It seemingly opens its eyes: lights that line the body of the bike and its tires glare in dark neon red. He’s a black figure against the violet, twinkling scenery, sprinkled with the daintiest, most intricate snowflakes, and your relation is clear to you as you observe him like this.

You’re becoming attached to him. And maybe that should be the thing to be scared of.

Jeongguk curls his fingers in the air, gesticulating that you are to hop on, and you do. Because you’re not scared, because the idea of being scared of Jeongguk doesn’t simply make sense to you.

The bike is cold as you follow his motions and sit down behind him. You hiss at the sensation and he glances back at you, though he’s not able to see much due to the thickness of his helmet.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s cold.”

He coos to himself, ever so quietly that it gives you the impression that you weren’t supposed to hear it. And before you can comprehend his softness and react, he speaks.

“You have to hang on. I’ll get you home soon.” He tweaks the handlebars. “Hold onto me.”

As soon as you place your palms on his shoulders, the vehicle begins moving backwards in a more rapid way than you anticipated. You startle, gasping, tensing behind him and gripping his muscles. Jeongguk is quick with his response—before he drives out of the sidewalk and onto the road, he moves your hand from his shoulder to his waist. Would move your other hand, too, but he has to handle the bike, turning in a swift way that takes your breath.

“Hold me like this, don’t let go,” he calls out, and you comply, intertwining your fingers before his chest, and then he’s drifting.

Your intertwinement loosens. You grapple the front of his puffer jacket for more support as the wind, interlaced with the unmerciful snowflakes, sails through the sides of your body, entering you through your throat, knotting your stomach. The vacant tide of the airy atmosphere appears to be sturdy and ruthless, but when you risk letting go of his jacket to flip down your visor because your eyes have started to burn, the sharpness of the breezing air is silky, elegant and lovely. Not severe, not harsh, not against you, but for you. It’s like the air parts for your touch, enveloping you, and because you long to feel more of it, you extend your hand to the side, allowing yourself to simply feel. Feel life be compliant and lenient. You lean your head against the center of Jeongguk’s back and watch your hand be kissed by the wind and the snowflakes, not having one care in the world.

Everything wrong ceases to exist on this road with him.

You mimic the waves of the sea with your hand because you sense that you’re being carried to a better part of life. You’re sailing, swimming, you’re happy and at peace, and those feelings are accompanied by the sudden sound of Jeongguk’s sweet chuckle. But you don’t shy away. No, you don’t have any reason to, for Jeongguk extends his hand, too. His ripples are way lengthier, protruding through the air in more depth due to the size of his hand. Together you swim like this just for a brief, blissful moment—he, in the front, you behind him like the follower you are, like the child you are in your adulthood.

And the time frame of this felicity doesn’t pause at the red light.

You’ve situated your hands back to his chest, and Jeongguk rubs them in fast motions, warming them up, glancing back at you.

“Did you flip down your visor?” he questions, his voice deepened by the adrenaline of the ride.

You nod, internally geeking at the fact he’s touching your hands. “I did. My eyes were burning.”

“Good.”

Your heart is delectated by that praise. Content drowsiness seizes you while your joy beats, meekly, in your belly. And it is now that you perceive that you’re hugging him. It may be through a myriad of warm layers, but you’re hugging him—and he’s holding your hands, caring enough about them being cold while his own are frosty, but still filmy, still soft, still gentle. And this time, when he lets go, you don’t lament their absence because he’s buried in you, somehow, the trust, the security that he will touch you again.

There’s nothing to be afraid of.

He’ll come back around.

Everything is okay.

You must have fallen asleep with your one eye open because you don’t even recognize how much time has passed. Jeongguk taps your hands again, calling you by your name, and you hum, feeling him burying that trust deeper by the gesture, feeling yourself getting used to being touched by him.

“I’m driving through your bus’s line now, I need you to tell me where you live.”

You straighten and squint in the dark, deliberating your surroundings. You’re four stops away from the one you get off on.

“Go straight and then take the first turn,” you navigate him, your tone marked by your sleepiness. “If you see the trees in the distance, that’s where my house is.”

You return to your former position, resting peacefully on his back, and you’re about to close your eyes again, but Jeongguk’s following question fling them right open.

“Should I stop a few houses down?”

You’ve never had Yoongi expecting your arrival, so you’re not sure if he’ll be standing by the window, waiting for your friend’s car to park in the driveway. You hesitate, but are inclined to go with his suggestion, though Jeongguk continues to speak in your silence.

“I don’t want you to deal with his bullshit once he sees that I’m not a girl.”

His intonation is snappy, laced with his own personal vexation from your relationship with your brother. Your lips curl in a satisfied smile, quivering under your helmet—and here and now, the guilt doesn’t creep in, the inert need to stand up for him doesn’t resurface. You take pleasure in the way he’s bothered by it and the emotion stays. You’re so glad for it that you softly pat his chest a few times and agree with his suggestion.

It dawns on you that his vexation with your brother is the reason why he didn’t share your enthusiasm when you stood outside of his apartment complex. Your inner child dances around the tree within you, the tails of the velvet ribbon brushing through her long, long hair.

Jeongguk sighs once he nears your house and you deem he does so because he sees how it’s positioned. The ivory castle of doom dominates the street, overlooking all the other smaller houses, which face each other, while perched on a hill. There’s nowhere for him to hide, not now when he’s driven up the hill.

He kills the engine, parking the bike by the side of the road. Your hands are numb as you untangle them. You shake them in the air in an effort to get your blood pumping in them. Jeongguk remains sitting and you take it as a sign to hop off first, which you do. Your bum is bitingly ice-cold and, hissing, you rub it. Jeongguk laughs at you, popping open his visor. His eyes are crinkly and starry while he amusedly looks at you, and there’s some kind of intent to his stare that makes your stomach feel all fuzzy.

You burn under the helmet.

Blood flows to your digits, and therefore you use them to rid yourself of the protective headpiece. You struggle, however. Stuck in it, you can’t move it—no matter how hard you try, how many muscles you flex in order to discard yourself of it. You hear a muffled chuckle, and then you feel cold hands against yours, pulling up the helmet with a certain kind of precision and strength you don’t possess. And there is the close proximity again, jumbling your guts. The depth to the eye contact and unvoiced words that are passed through the wind, which blows through your sweat-clad hair and forehead, unraveling your scarf, baring you for his eyes to see. A wispy strand of hair gets entangled in your eyelashes, flying through the planes of your face, and Jeongguk doesn’t put it away. He surveys it as he contemplates something—and at this moment all you can think about is how he’s never not lost in his thoughts.

The boy is always reflecting on something within the complex space of his mind, and you deem that’s why there’s an entire canvas of stars in his eyes. The universe must have given it to him, hand-picked by God, because his head is permanently in the clouds.

How beautiful that is, how momentous.

“You fell asleep on me,” he rasps, as if he himself couldn’t believe it. “It wasn’t that bad then, was it?”

You loop that strand of hair behind your ear and shake your head, flicking your eyes for a split second to the unlit balcony of your parents’ bedroom. How great and bad would it be, if they stood there. You don’t know why your heart is seeking them at this moment, why your eyes looked there, but you leave it be. Some purpose it has, but your mind doesn’t have to understand it right now. You find peace in that.

“You’re a safe female driver,” you joke, your words split by your soft laughter, but Jeongguk isn’t amused, not anymore. You bite your lip, your pleasure from it heightening. “I was scared at first, but then it felt liberating.”

Jeongguk nods, attuned to your experience. He hangs your helmet on one of the handle bars. “So you’re willing to ride with me again?”

He peeks at you, magnetically pulling your answer out of you by the laws of the stars in his eyes, and as you blush, you melt. You irrevocably and nonsensically melt.

“Yeah, but remind me to bring my gloves next time,” you say, grinning so wide the muscles in your cheeks ache. You pull down the sleeves of your jacket to keep the cold from penetrating them. Jeongguk notices, but if he smiles—you can’t tell. He’s still wearing his helmet.

You think about his offer in the short interlude, looking forward to it. You’d get on and drive back with him to his apartment if you could. When will the next time be, though? He doesn’t drive to school on his bike—he uses public transportation and you wonder why.

“Why don’t you take the bike to school?”

Jeongguk inhales a big gust of air, tilting his head back. The snowflakes fall into the wide hole of his helmet, sitting on his nose. As he mulls over his response, his eyes land on you with a tendril of ferocity that puzzles you.

“I’d rather not give them any more reason to talk about me.”

He begins slapping his hands back and forth, an act that portrays how nervous he is to talk about this. The stars in his eyes lower to dullness, his irises unwilling to pierce yours. You recollect his nerves and how unwilling he was to flesh them out and unriddle them, too. You know, from his past bus stop heart-spilling, that he doesn’t have many friends within his field, but he never mentioned that they genuinely dislike him. You never heard the details, the gravity of this day-to-day problem. And you feel so bad for him that as he looks out into the distance across the hill, you take the necessary step towards him and take his hand into yours.

It is the most courageous thing you’ve ever done, but Jeongguk is perturbed.

And you don’t know it is due to the light unexpectedly turning on in the bedroom of your parents until he pushes you back onto the sidewalk and towers over you, creating a shadow over you that hides you from your brother, who has entered your parents’ bedroom to spy on whether you’ve come home or not.

“He’s there,” he clarifies in a hushed tone, completing the puzzle piece, and when you lean your head out of the shadow, he gently presses you back into safety by cradling your ear.

But you can’t dwell on the touch, not when your heart thrashes against your ribcage with such dreadful, stabbing trepidation because Yoongi never goes to your parents’ bedroom. As far as you know, he hasn’t been there since their death. He kept their door bolted tight for the longest time and it remained so until you begged him to give you the key, so you could keep the room tiny in their honor whenever you missed them. He believed ghosts swarmed its walls there the most out of all the rooms in the house, and if the double doors remained locked, they would stay away—and they would stay away from you, even more so with the bracelet he braided you. You persisted, reminding him of the black plait, and he surrendered. For cleaning and nothing else; we don’t come here for any other purposes, he had decided.

This should be the thing to be scared of. Yoongi prancing around the room as if your parents never died, as if he never swore he’d never walk there again, as if his belief in the paranormal never haunted his mentality.

This is flat-out terrifying—and bears the image of betrayal.

Your throat dries out, and your lips form that pout of yours.

“Is he… still there?” you ask, your voice breaking in consequence of your full-body trembling, and the stars in Jeongguk’s eyes plummet to an unmitigated darkness.

He doesn’t vacillate as he pushes your head to his chest and holds you to him, keeping you safe in his shadow while he discreetly checks if his presence is still by the balcony windows. His fingers dig into the thickness of your hair, and you wish he would pull on it, so you wouldn’t feel this sagging pain in your sternum, which forces your knees down, which forces your tears like strings of a puppet.

You don’t want to cry, and you don’t want to believe this is real. His room is next to your parents’, for God’s sake. He could’ve spied from his own window and seen you perfectly fine. Without any obstacles, without causing any of these nagging difficulties.

“He’s gone. The lights are off.”

There’s no relief from his words. There’s nothing that could alleviate you from what you saw. And you don’t hold back. You tell Jeongguk of the horrible picture as he continues to hold you to him, his fingers sinking deeper into your scalp.

“He never goes to my parents’ bedroom. He keeps the door locked and he allows me inside just to clean because I begged him to. What is this? He decided that we would never go there.”

Jeongguk doesn’t say anything for a while. He merely breathes with you, his chest lifting and falling while he contemplates the information. His heart is dead silent—just like the room.

Or so you thought.

“I don’t think you should trust anything he says,” he utters, at last, withdrawing you from his chest to glimpse into your eyes. Dark, dark those pools are. No stars in sight. “Fuck his stupid rules.”

You gasp for air, frustrated that this is your life, that it’s interwoven with those rules of his that you no longer respect.

“I’ll have a cigarette just so he doesn’t think you were with me, but that’s the last time I’m abiding his fucked up rules and views. I want you to know that. This stops today.”

He’s right, and as he smokes his cigarette and you grip his vape in your fist, puffing from it simultaneously with him, the new decision begins to plunge down your body. This stops today, and the decision roots in your belly like a pebble in a creek once he stubs out his cigarette and gets on his bike, pulling out the sack of figs and cinnamon tea and handing it to you.

This stops today, and the next time he takes you for a ride on his bike, he will park by your house for Yoongi to see.

Although, you don’t realize, not in your poisonously blossoming spite, that you won’t see Jeongguk anytime soon, and that he won’t hop on his bike for months.

You don’t realize in the moment, as you’re waving Jeongguk goodbye while he drives off, that your efforts are everlastingly useless.

And that is the curse your mother spoke over you when you were still a child with long, dripping wet hair. That is the demon that lives in the walls of your parents’ bedroom.

Let out, freed, having been given permission by the breaking of spoken rules to ruin your life.

𓂃 ౨ৎ LOVE-KISSED BABIES: @jjk7k , @tkslovechild , @euphoricmyth, @cinmmongirl , @ririkookiemonster , @perfectiondazesworld , @https-mei , @bangtansonyeondanue , @jungkoock , @cinmmongirl, @hoseokkie-caeks , @kam9404 , @fr0ggieth1nk , @parkinglot-nights, @sadgirlroo

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mrsshabana · 3 months ago

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Hey Mrs.Shabana I just wanna say I really love your work and it’s always been a delight to read. What I would like to request a part two of NTR because not only was it hot but the possible drama afterwards makes me excited and I wish to know what happens next! You don’t have to do it though take your time with everything

𝐍𝐓𝐑 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐰𝐨

꒦꒷‧₊ Summary After cheating on your boyfriend, Tengen, it's not long before you face the consequences of your actions. But things take an unexpected turn, and Gyutaro couldn't be happier with the results. ꒦꒷‧₊ Content Gyutaro x female!reader, college au, 18+ MDNI, vaginal sex, netorare, cheating. ꒦꒷‧₊ Note 1.4k words

✧:･ﾟ→ Part one

"Aw man, do you have to wipe it off? You look so pretty covered in my cum..." Gyutaro pouts as he hands you a paper towel.

"Yes!" You say, trying to avoid letting it drip into your mouth, "Tengen will be here any minute to pick me up."

Gyutaro rolls his eyes and crosses his arms as he watches you clean up the beautiful mess he made of you.

"Heh yeah, I'm lookin' forward to that," he smirks, imagining the look on Tengen's face when he received the photo he sent of you just moments ago.

Begrudgingly, Gyutaro helps you clean up. Taking the soiled paper towels and throwing them in the garbage bin.

"How do I look?" you smooth out your hair and try to look presentable.

Gyutaro narrows his eyes and looks you up and down, "Looks fine to me," he says as he can obviously see a bit of dried cum leftover in your hair - but purposefully decides not to say anything.

"Ok, thanks," you reapply your lipgloss and straighten out your clothes, "Hopefully he won't notice..."

Just as you begin to feel the guilt seep in, the doorknob jiggles, and Tengen barges into the room.

"YOU FUCKING WHORE!" He shouts and comes barreling towards you.

Never have you seen your boyfriend so angry, especially targeted towards you. You instinctually go to Gyutaro's side, grabbing his arm and staying close to him.

"What the hell has gotten into you?!" you wail, genuinely afraid and confused. Though Gyutaro is shockingly calm and collected, an arrogant aura emanates from him as he grabs his vape out of his pocket.

"Are you fucking serious? You slept with my roommate!!" Your boyfriend clenches his fists in anger.

"Technically she didn't sleep with me, she just sucked me off," Gyutaro says nonchalantly.

Tengen narrows his eyes at his roommate, filled with fury. But honestly, he's not even mad at Gyutaro, he already knows he's a scumbag. So he isn't surprised he'd do something like this, he's more upset with you.

"Shut up incel, adults are talking," Tengen snaps back, "How could you do this, Y/N? I should've known you were a good-for-nothing whore."

"But I-I..." you whimper as your eyes begin to water, shame taking over you. Maybe you really are just a whore. Tengen may stand you up a lot, but that doesn't mean he deserved to be cheated on.

"Tsk," Gyutaro scoffs and takes a drag of his vape, "You're one to talk."

"Shut it! You're just a pathetic virgin, you don't know shit."

"Oh really? Then maybe I should tell Y/N about Hinatsuru. Or maybe Makio or Suma?" Gyutaro smirks as he watches Tengen go pale, "But what do I know? I'm just a pathetic incel, right?"

"You fucking prick..." Tengen curses under his breath.

Your eyes widen as you connect the dots. Those were the girls that Tengen told you not to worry about, claiming that they were just childhood friends. You gave him the benefit of the doubt because you didn't have a reason not to. But now you feel like a complete and utter fool.

A part of you is fuming with anger but the other part feels relieved that now you're off the hook.

"Whatever," Tengen puts his hands up defensively, "You can have my sloppy seconds."

His words hurt, but honestly, you can't even bring yourself to care. As you watch Tengen leave and slam the door behind him, it's safe to say that your relationship is over.

But why is it that you don't even feel that sad about it? Maybe because a part of you figured he was already cheating. He was never around anyway so the fact that you're officially broken up doesn't change much. If anything you're just really happy that you don't have to feel bad about giving Gyutaro a blowjob anymore.

"We should fuck on his bed." Gyutaro breaks the silence with the most out-of-pocket, unhinged sentence. Though you can't say you're surprised he'd say such a thing in a moment like this.

"A-Are you serious?"

"Hell yeah," he takes another drag of his vape, "He said I could have you now so why hold back?"

You can't help but blush at his bluntness - this was one of the reasons why you crushed on Gyutaro in the first place. He's never afraid to say what's on his mind despite how strange or inappropriate it is.

"Haha, sure Gyutaro," you chuckle, "Let's do that."

With a big mischievous grin, Gyutaro takes your hand and leads you to his roommate's bedroom. Promtly pushing you onto the bed and hurriedly taking off his shirt.

"You're still wet from earlier, right?" he says as he slides off his pants, all too eager for round two.

"Y-yeah," you say shyly. He's right, you did get really wet when you gave him a blowjob - your panties are already soaked.

"Well hurry up, take that shit off," he gets impatient, his cock twitching as he glares down at you.

"He's one demanding virgin..." you think to yourself as you hurriedly take off your clothes. Honestly, you're surprised Gyutaro is already hard again after he just came. But he is a virgin after all so it makes sense.

Once your clothes have been fully removed, Gyutaro spreads your legs and crawls on top of you. "About fucking time, you know how many times I've jerked off while thinking about this?"

Your entire face goes red in embarrassment. His words aren't romantic in the slightest but his honesty is sexier than dirty talk could ever be.

You watch in horror as he's about to slide into you, "Wait!! Put a condom on first!"

Gyutaro rolls his eyes and shoves himself into you anyway, "Hell no, I wanna claim you in ways Tengen never could." He groans as he pushes his hips flush against you.

Your eyes roll back in ecstasy as you feel him fill you completely. After being wet for so long without any stimulation, it feels heavenly to finally have him inside of you.

"Ah f-fine," you moan, "But you have to pull out! I-I'm not on birth control."

"Fuck I'd love to get you pregnant so then you'd really be stuck with me," he murmurs, "But fine, I'll pull out if that's what you want."

You hope he'll keep his word, but honestly right now it feels too good to care. Gyutaro begins bucking his hips wildly, thrusting in and out of you with sloppy thrusts.

"You're my girl now, got it?" he says between gasps.

"Uh huh," you moan, "M'your girl now, Gyu."

"Fuck... good girl, Y/N" he picks up the pace - the sound of skin slapping fills the room. And your combined fluids splash where the two of you are connected, creating a nice messy pool on your ex-boyfriend's bed sheets.

Gyutaro doesn't quite know enough about sex yet to make you orgasm, but he's doing a decent enough job at fucking you that you already feel close. So you use your right hand to rub tight circles into your clit, while your other hand holds onto his shoulder for support.

"I fuck you better than he did, don't I?" Gyutaro growls, getting closer to his peak.

"Y-yeah, so much better," you moan, "B-Bigger too."

His lips curl into an arrogant smirk, he grabs your hips tightly and shakily pounds into you as hard as he can. So pussy drunk that he barely pulls out in time.

His cock twitching in the air as his nails dig into your hips, "Th-this'll show him! You're my girl now!" he whimpers as his semen splatters all over your abdomen and all over Tengen's sheets.

Watching the white sticky fluid stain the cloth does something to you and you feel your legs tremble as you reach orgasm. Moaning and arching your back, wishing that he was still inside of you.

"Fuck... he's an idiot for ever cheating on you. You're the perfect girl," Gyutaro rasps, leaning forward and catching your lips in a kiss.

As you lay there, a panting and sweaty mess, Gyutaro grabs some tissues and cleans you up. Then he haphazardly smears his semen on the bed sheets. Watching as it soaks into the fabric. Knowing that when Tengen gets into bed tonight he'll have a little surprise waiting for him.

#gyutaro #gyutaro shabana #gyutaro x reader #gyutaro x y/n #gyuutarou #gyuutarou x reader #gyutaro smut #tengen uzui #uzui tengen #kny x reader #demon slayer x reader #kny smut #demon slayer smut #incel x reader #𝐑𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬 ʚ♡ɞ

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weemssapphic · 3 months ago

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Hey, so I have a thout that's been eating away at my brain for a while... Larissa and Reader have been in a relationship for a while and reader likes to vape. They keep this secret from Larissa and avoid doing it around her or people that know her bc they're worried she'll disaprove. One day, Larissa gets done with a meeting early and goes back to her quarters and finds reader vaping on the balcony. They freak out and starts apologizing saying they understand if this changes how she sees them and Larissa shuts them down, confessing that she smokes and has been hiding it for the same reason as reader. Just lots of fluff, basically.

Totally get it if you don;t feel comfotable writing this, vaping isn't for everyone.

(sorry about the spelling/grammer mistakes, I'm high af right now.)

Hello :) thank you for the request - I really enjoyed writing this, and I hope you enjoy reading it!

Smoke Gets In Your Eyes

Larissa Weems x reader Words: ~1.4k | ao3 link in title

It’s a chilly autumn afternoon and you’re huddled on the balcony of Larissa’s quarters, pulling the sleeve of your jacket down over your hand as you lean against the stone balustrade. You bring your vape to your lips and it crackles softly as you take a hit, the scent of watermelon filling the air as you exhale. You’ve lucked out with your teaching schedule this semester and managed to get Friday afternoons off, and today you’re especially grateful for that: it’s your 3 month anniversary and you’re intending to surprise Larissa by having dinner ready when she gets back to her quarters this evening.

You’re grateful that Larissa’s balcony faces the woods - no one ever comes out on this side of the school, so no one will see you having a quick vape out here. It’s not that you’re ashamed of your habit, you truly don’t care what other people think of you - except for Larissa. You care a hell of a lot about what Larissa thinks of you.

A few weeks into your teaching contract, you’d overheard Larissa scolding a group of students in the quad for passing around a vape, confiscating the little device - when she’d run into you on her way back into the school, she’d made a disgruntled comment on how disappointed she was in the students for picking up such a habit. Her comment had made you falter, as you’d been on your way outside for a vape yourself, and you resigned yourself to hiding this part of you from the principal - you imagined she’d be disappointed in you, too.

As you stand outside watching the wind pass through the golden leaves of the trees bordering the school’s campus, you run through your plans for the evening in your head. The flowers still need to be put in a suitable vase, and you still need to get changed - you should probably get started on dinner within the next hour, too, so that Larissa doesn’t have to wait too long to eat when she finishes work.

You’re so wrapped up in your own thoughts that you don’t hear the door to Larissa’s quarters creaking open, or her heels clicking on the hardwood floors behind you, until it’s too late, until her smooth voice has called out “darling?” and you can feel her much taller figure looming behind you.

Her hands on your waist make you jump, which in turn makes you curse and fumble with your vape as it nearly slips from your hand and over the balustrade.

“Shit, Larissa,” you gasp, giggling nervously as you recover from the shock, your vape now held firmly in your hand as you lean back against your partner and melt into her warmth, a stark contrast to the biting cold air.

“What are you doing out here?” Larissa asks softly, her hands sliding around you to pull you flush against her, her lips meeting the crown of your head.

The color drains from your face and your palm suddenly feels clammy around your vape - as Larissa cranes her head and looks down at you, you know there’s no point in trying to hide it and brush it off. She’s seen it already.

“I-I…” The words die in your throat. As much as you’re sure she’d be disgusted by your habit, you’re even more certain that the fact you’ve been lying over the past few months is going to make everything that much worse.

“Is that a vape?” You can’t read Larissa’s expression, not that you’re really trying - you refuse to turn around in her arms, too busy trying to avoid eye contact and hide your growing blush as you rack your brain for a plausible explanation.

“You’re back early,” is all you manage to croak out, cursing yourself internally for the thin film of tears already clouding your vision.

“The mayor canceled our meeting,” Larissa says, sounding rather absent-minded, her eyes darting between you and your vice-like grip on your vape. “Darling, do you vape?”

“I… yeah,” you finally concede, crossing your arms over your chest to hug yourself. “I’m really sorry, I should’ve told you…”

“Why didn’t you?” Larissa’s voice sounds softer than you’d thought it would, less harsh than you’d imagined, and you risk a glance up at her to see her watching you with a furrowed brow. She looks a bit confused, but her expression is absent of the judgment you were so certain you’d find, and you bite your lip nervously.

“I didn’t want you to see me differently, I guess,” you mumble and, to your surprise, Larissa lets out a soft chuckle. “What?”

Larissa lets go of your waist and disappears into her quarters for a moment, leaving you on the balcony. Your brow furrows as you watch her bend over her handbag and retrieve something, before coming back outside and closing the balcony door behind her. She rests her forearms on the balustrade and your eyes widen as she flips open the top of a pack of cigarettes, pulling one out between long fingers and placing it between pursed, painted lips to light it with an ornate, silver lighter. When she plucks the cigarette from between her lips with two fingers, there’s a faint ring of lipstick around the end.

“Y-you… didn’t tell me you smoke,” you stammer out, a little taken aback.

“I didn’t want you to see me differently, I guess,” Larissa quotes you, her lips curling into a soft, sheepish smile, before she lifts the cigarette to her lips once more and takes a deep drag. She steps towards the little wrought-iron table on her balcony, taking a seat at one of the two matching chairs and reaching onto the floor behind a rather large potted plant - there’s an ashtray hidden there that she lifts onto the table, flicking the ash off the cigarette and crossing one leg over the other.

You’re a bit dazed, still processing the situation as you sit on the other chair, drawing your knees up to your chest and taking a hit of your vape. You can feel a smile slowly growing on your face however, relaxing more and more as you watch Larissa smoke her cigarette. You can’t help but chuckle a little, the absurdity of the situation hitting you. “I can’t believe I never realized you smoked,” you giggle, and your laugh makes Larissa smile, too.

“It wasn’t easy to hide,” she concedes with a blush. “I swear I don’t normally wear this much perfume…”

Her comment makes you laugh harder, a burden being lifted off your shoulders as you no longer feel like you’re lying to your partner, and you stand and walk over to Larissa, coming to a stop right in front of her. She uncrosses her legs, stubbing out her cigarette as you straddle her so that she can place her hands on your hips. You wrap your arms around her neck, resting your forehead against hers and smiling softly. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” you whisper.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, either, darling,” Larissa whispers back, giving your hips a reassuring squeeze before moving one hand to your cheek, cupping it and drawing you in for a slow, tender kiss that steals the air from your lungs. She tastes different than usual and it reminds you of your current situation, making you smile as you deepen the kiss and flick your tongue against hers, drawing a soft moan from her throat.

“You promise you don’t see me differently?” you murmur between kisses, and Larissa draws back from the kiss just enough to meet your gaze, bright blue eyes glistening with affection as they dance between your own.

“Not at all.” She goes in for another kiss, her own lips curling into a smile against yours, and her hand slips into the hair at the nape of your neck, painted nails scratching gently at the base of your scalp. “What are you doing in my quarters, anyway?” she asks with a soft smirk, knowing you must be planning something as it’s your anniversary.

“What, can’t I just get some peace and quiet here? The teacher’s wing is always so busy.”

Larissa huffs and playfully pinches your side, causing you to yelp.

“Okay, okay, I was going to surprise you with dinner. Happy?”

Larissa’s smile widens - made all the more endearing by the way her lipstick is smudged ever so slightly. “Very.”

Taglist: @alexusonfire @brienneswife @pro-weems-places @bigolgay @kimiinou @imprincipalweemspet @h-doodles @bychrissi @katie-bennet @giogwensversion @gela123 @friskyfisher @justcallmelittleone @michi2504 @scream-queenlover @a-queen-and-her-throne @sequoirius @anne-lister @winterfireblond @imgayforwoman69 @Ssappling2004 @fictionalized-lesbian @i-like-reading @aemilia19 @milfsloverblog @missdowling @billiedeansbitch @The_Demon_of_your_Dream @agathaandgwenslesbian @http-sam @Cute-catx @saltrage @renravens @opheliauniverse @zillahofviolets-bayolet @scarlettssub @catechristiestuff @niceminipotato @barbarasstar @women-are-so-ethereal @thevillagegay @willowshadenox @lilfartbox1 @larissaoftarthweems @dovesintherain @fallenbutch @lunala-rose23 @ahauandthesun @thenazwife @wh0s-vesper @m-0-mmy-l-0-ver33 @thesamesweetie @theonefairygodmother @lvinhs @rainbow-hedgehog @sweetderacine @daydream-cement @catechristiesstuff @im-a-carnivorous-plant @milfomaniac @sapphos-ode @mrs.prentiss @ilovetlcc @toutoubum @lesbiahonest24 @wastdstime @Gwens0girl @Larissa-Weems-chokehold @ladylarissaweems @Makemyworldworthliving @spacetoaim22 @m1lflov3rrr @nightingalespen @sapphicbee223 @hollymymolly

#larissa weems x reader #larissa weems #principal weems x reader #larissa x reader

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delightfuldefendorpuppy · 1 month ago

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Best Colombian Coffee Ice – Juicy Bar JB5000 $14.99

Colombian Coffee Ice Juicy Bar JB5000—a rich and invigorating vaping experience that combines the bold flavor of Colombian coffee with a refreshing icy twist. Perfect for coffee lovers and those who enjoy a chilled vape, this disposable vape delivers a robust and flavorful escape in every puff. With its unique flavor profile and sleek design, the Colombian Coffee Ice Juicy Bar is set to become a staple for vapers seeking a delicious and energizing experience.

Flavor Profile

The Colombian Coffee Ice flavor offers a perfect blend of rich coffee and refreshing coolness. Upon inhalation, you’ll be greeted by the deep, aromatic taste of freshly brewed Colombian coffee, delivering a robust and satisfying experience. This bold coffee flavor is expertly balanced with a crisp, icy sensation that follows, enhancing the overall experience and providing a refreshing finish. As you exhale, the harmonious combination of coffee richness and coolness leaves a lingering aftertaste, making the Colombian Coffee Ice Juicy Bar JB5000 ideal for all-day vaping.

Design and Features

The Juicy Bar JB5000 is designed for convenience and style. Its sleek and compact design ensures easy portability, allowing you to enjoy the delightful Colombian Coffee Ice flavor wherever you go. With an impressive capacity of up to 5,000 puffs, this disposable vape lets you indulge in this invigorating blend without the hassle of frequent replacements.

#disposable vape #juicybar #Smooth

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fratttymatty · 8 days ago

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You're Smoked

(All characters are 18+)

It was just another quiet Tuesday evening when everything changed for Quinn, Eric, and Alex. The three 29-year-old nerdy best friends had always been inseparable. They spent their nights playing video games, debating superheroes, and diving into comic book lore. Life was predictable, comfortable, and easy.

That was, of course, until Quinn discovered a peculiar game at the local thrift store. "The Alteration," the box proclaimed, adorned with strange glowing symbols that beckoned them like some irresistible mystery. The trio wasn't into supernatural gimmicks or odd fads, but it was a game, and that was all the convincing they needed.

They gathered at Quinn's apartment, excitement buzzing in the air as they set up the game on his coffee table. It was more complex than they expected—dice with too many sides to count, cards, and tokens scattered across the table. But there was something captivating about it. The kind of feeling that made you ignore any misgivings and dive in.

Each took a turn, rolling the dice, drawing cards, and following instructions. The game progressed—strange, but harmless enough. That is, until they each drew the same card: "Transformation."

In an instant, the room seemed to warp, and a tingling sensation spread through their bodies. It wasn’t painful, just dizzying, like waking from a dream where everything felt off. And then—poof—it was done.

The trio looked at each other in confusion, but the first thing they noticed was how completely different they looked.

Zane—formerly Quinn—was the first to speak, his voice a low, cool drawl that didn’t even sound like him anymore. His once-thin frame had morphed into a broad, muscular build, and his hair was now a wild, tousled mess of brown waves that looked like they hadn’t been touched by a comb in years. His sharp jawline was prominent, and his once-framed glasses had disappeared, replaced by a pair of dark sunglasses that now sat comfortably on his nose.

He was wearing a white t-shirt, but it was simple—just a plain, snug fit that clung to his chest and shoulders. His jeans, baggy and worn-in, hung loosely from his hips as if they were the most natural thing in the world. Everything about his new body felt strong, confident, and unmistakably cocky.

Zane didn’t even think twice before he reached into his pocket and pulled out a vape. Without hesitation, he took a deep drag, the cool mint flavor swirling in his lungs before he blew out a thick cloud. He smirked at the feeling of the nicotine buzz. It felt right. Too right.

Brad—formerly Eric—looked down at his body, which had transformed in ways he could barely comprehend. His hair, once neatly styled and short, was now a tousled brown mess, still kind of messy but somehow perfectly styled in that carefree, too-cool-for-school way. His chest was now broad, and the sleeveless hoodie he wore was so tight on his biceps, it looked like it might rip at any moment. The rest of his body was covered by black sweatpants that hung low on his waist, his legs thick and athletic. His confident grin was now permanent, like he was daring someone to challenge him.

Brad's hands automatically went to his pocket and pulled out a vape of his own, the smooth, sleek device fitting perfectly in his grip. He took a puff, exhaling the smoke slowly, and felt a rush of satisfaction flood through his body. He looked at Zane, nodding in approval. "This is living, man."

Jared—formerly Alex—felt the change as well, looking at his reflection with a stunned grin. His hair had transformed into a messy, tousled dirty blonde wave, perfect for someone who spent their days outside and had no care for combing it. His physique was now long, lean, and athletic, with strong shoulders and toned legs. He wore a white t-shirt, but this one had a yellow and purple design on the front—loud and attention-grabbing, exactly the opposite of his old style.

His jeans were baggy, the kind that hung low on his hips, and they felt more comfortable than anything he’d ever worn. He wasn’t used to the carefree, devil-may-care attitude, but right now, he didn’t care. It was like he had been reborn, and he liked it. A lot.

He pulled out his vape, taking a smooth drag as the buzz filled him. "Dude, this is awesome," he said, watching as the vapor swirled in the air before dissipating. "We’re unstoppable."

The three of them looked at each other for a long moment. The lives they had known—playing board games, chatting about nerdy topics, debating superheroes—felt so distant now, like they were from someone else. Instead, their new reality—their new selves—felt exciting and irresistible. They felt alive, like the world was theirs for the taking.

"Let’s hit the gym, grab some food, and maybe hit up the beach later," Zane said, already starting to walk toward the door, his voice confident and smooth.

Brad nodded. "Hell yeah. I feel like I could bench press a car right now."

Jared laughed, taking another long drag of his vape. "Yeah, let’s go mess around. I’m down for anything."

And just like that, the three of them—Zane, Brad, and Jared—walked out into the night, completely unconcerned with who they used to be. Their new lives were everything they had dreamed of, and they were ready to embrace it all.

But as they made their way toward the local gym, they didn’t expect what happened next: the moment they stepped onto the sidewalk, a group of girls appeared out of nowhere.

They were tall, blonde, and bubbly, their smiles wide and bright. They giggled as they approached, their eyes locking onto the trio with obvious interest.

The first girl, a bubbly blonde with a ponytail, nudged her friend and giggled. "Hey, guys! You’re looking cute tonight," she said to Zane, her voice sweet and airy.

Zane grinned, the cocky smirk never leaving his face. "Thanks, babe," he said, flipping his sunglasses down and taking another puff from his vape.

Brad raised an eyebrow at the girls and winked, adjusting his sweatpants. "What’s up, ladies? You want to hang out?" His voice oozed confidence as he looked them over.

Jared chuckled, his hand moving to the back of his head as he rocked on his heels. "Yeah, you girls look fun. Wanna come grab some smoothies or something?" he offered with a mischievous grin, his tone laid-back.

The girls giggled in response, looking like they’d hit the jackpot. "Totally," the blonde with the ponytail agreed. "You guys are so cute. We should hang out!"

It was a perfect moment—everything was exactly how they’d imagined their new lives would be. And as they all walked off together, Zane, Brad, and Jared realized that the changes weren’t just physical. They were free—free to be the people they had always wanted to be, no regrets, no looking back.

There was no turning back now. The past was nothing but a distant memory. And with their new, ditzy valley girlfriends in tow, life had never felt so thrilling.

(from left to right: Brad, Jared, Zane)

#male tf #male tf story #gay to straight #nerd to jock #smart to dumb #gym bro tf #scally tf

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jeonsbabygirlsworld · 1 year ago

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SEX TAPES

SUMMARY: At one random night you both wanted to make your own sex tape and Jungkook is more than thrilled to, make one .

PAIRINGS: husband Jungkook X wife reader

WORD COUNT:1.3 K {more than that}

I WARNINGS: reverse cowgirl , doggy , oral (m) , fingering , THEY MAKE A SEX TAPE jungkook in a suit oml 😭, JUNGKOOK AND READER BOTH HAVE A VAPE

A/n: I hope you enjoy this sweet pies like reblog and follow <3Just hit 100+ followers y’all Thankyou so much sweet pies ! 🥺❤️

The bed sheets were messy when you and jungkook were done with the 2 nd round of the night. “ Baby we should make a sex tape what do you say,” jungkook said his eyes glued on the ceiling still breathing heavily. While humming agreeing with what he said. “Yeah, let’s do it Kook I’ve thinking about it, Our sex tape wow”. You said cuddling with him. “ y/n don’t fall asleep baby you need to go pee” he said slowly helping you get up.

Jungkook had already run a bath for you, While you took a quick bath jungkook had changed himself wearing his grey sweatpants and going shirtless, When you came back he was scrolling through his phone “ Baby pass me my vape the blueberry one” he said looking at while you were still wrapped up in the towel.

“ Give me a second baby,”you said changing into your night cloths and ready to sleep, while you handed over his vape “ Here kook,” you said while looking over your phone “Thanks baby, wanna smoke ?” He asked blowing the smoke. “ No, I’ll take the strawberry one kook,”you told him, soon blowing out some drags and sleeping while cuddling each other and whispering I love you to each other.

The next evening

Jungkook’s back was pressed against the front door, he didn’t expect this when you opened the door when he rang the bell. Wet kisses and hickeys were now freshly added to his neck “ Fuck baby what’s gotten into you?” He asked loving every moment because it was rare to see you being dom over him. “ Nothing Kook just missed you” You backed away from him to let him see you in the lingerie set with matching garters on. “ You look like a goddess baby, fuck so hot,” he said groaning when you sent him a flying kiss.

“Come on I’ve prepared something for you in our bedroom,” you said grabbing his tie and pulling him towards your shared bedroom. He is greeted with the scent of his favourite scented candles “ Fuck how did I get so lucky to have you, baby?” He rasped, his camera lying on the nightstand charged. While he closed the door behind him you sat on the bed while he walked towards you and knelt before you “What do you want me to do y/n?” He asked rubbing his hands all over your smooth legs. “ Undress yourself” you whispered biting his lips he got up slowly removing his tie, shirt and pants standing only in his Calvin Klein boxers, Jungkook’s happy trail is one of your favourite things on him.

“Undress me now kook, I wanna leave the garters on me is it fine?” You ask puppy eyes looking at him “Of course baby whatever you want” jungkook removed the lingerie you wore and climbed on the bed with you “ I’ll suck you off baby first”you said laying down your back your head supporting the pillow while jungkook was already palming himself he shifted towards your face.

You removed his boxers palming his length while he grabbed the camera from the nightstand “ Suck it, good baby” his hands roamed over your body soon giving your breasts a gentle squeeze and wetting his fingers his hands went straight to your pussy while you moaned prettily making noises when you sucked him, jungkook started rubbing your clit making you moan, the camera still in his hands he zoomed towards your pussy.

The rubbing made you forget about sucking him “ Come on baby don’t be dumb suck me off, didn’t you wanna do it first?” He said while you messily palmed him, Pretty moans left your mouth telling him to go fast, jungkook inserted two of us fingers “Fuck baby you're so tight”you keep on moaning low and sucked his cock making him groan “Let me hear you pretty girl” he rasped “ fuck jungkook” you whispered through your orgasm “ That’s it baby keep going, your doing great” your other hand covered his hand which was on your pussy making you groan when he hit spot “ I’m here baby I’m not going anywhere be good and cum yeah baby?” Jungkook talked you through it.

His hands now roamed around your nipples slightly pinching them when you don’t suck him out properly, you tap his cock on your tongue “Is this good ?” You asked, “Yeah baby the perfect keep going” his hands now travelled through your neck grabbing you to choke on his cock jungkook made you gag on his cock.

Your pussy was still sensitive from the last one jungkook slowly patted it making you jolt slightly in your position inserting them again you moaned his name like crazy “ Ah fuck kook I’m sensitive won’t last baby, wanna have your cock inside”you said between your moans “ then make it wet enough” he said moaning bringing the camera near your face where you had his cock in your mouth.

“Yeah looking so pretty, my baby” he whimpered “Enough baby you’re gonna make me cum” he backed up arranging the camera on the nightstand you said “ I’ll ride you kook it’s been days,” you say already getting in your position “ cowgirl or reverse cowgirl?”you asked “ reverse baby wanna see that ass bounce on my cock” he grinned. Helping you position over himself you teased him taking in only the tip and rubbing him over Pussy lips “Oh baby take me in now” jungkook helped you ride him rubbing your clit occasionally.

“ wanna cum jungkook”The thrusts he helped you make were so fast you couldn’t talk to him properly “Say it louder y/n,” jungkook spoke from behind slowing your hips movement “ I know baby I know cum”You soon came “ fuck jungkook” you sobbed when you thought you were done but jungkook had other plans he lifted you making you sleep on your stomach with your ass in the air oh Doggy style it is favourite, grabbing the camera he groaned slapping your ass “ Mine baby mine,”he said “ love you baby love this ass ,fuck my girl, you love me ?, baby say it I wanna hear it “ hips shuttering “ my little cum dump doing so good” he soon came inside you placing the cam on nightstand helping you to get up and get a water bottle for you while you rested in the bed waiting for him “ how are you feeling? Sorry, I went a bit roughy didn’t I ?” he asked passing you the bottle “ let’s order some ice cream yeah baby?” He said already going on the app to order but your mother called him asking if you want to take bam from their house “ I’ll come in few mother” jungkook said and kissed your lips saying he’ll be back , and took the vape from the table counter “ Jagi ,I’ll bring bam, take a bath I’ve run a bath for you”he said already getting ready to get bam Luckily your mother stayed few lanes away so it wasn’t much of drive.

Sometime later

You were all freshened up sitting on the bed watching movies when you heard the front door unlocking, jungkook entered with bam “ hey pretty boy how are you?” You asked getting up from the bed and cuddling while he licked and softly whined in your arms “ you missed me baby?did you have fun with your grandparents ?” As if bam knew what you were talking he barked jungkook pouted “ he didn’t get this excited when I met him” he said pouting and removing his shirt and wearing the shorts getting comfortable on the bed while you and bam were still on the ground “ come up here baby , I’ve ordered the ice cream would be here soon” he said resuming the movie “ let’s get on bed bam” .

Soon after eating bam went on his bed sleeping peacefully while you and jungkook cuddled together while you kissed his cheeks and telling him how much you love him .

#bts #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook #jeon jeongguk #jeon jungkook #jungkook x you #bts jungkook #bts fanfic bts smut #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts fanfiction

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crystallinesilk · 6 months ago

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✧ “My Precious Lightweight…”✧

Synopsis: After a trip to the laundromat, Choso and his girlfriend [you!] settle on the couch. You previously discovered your misplaced THC vape pen before the wash, and playful teasing turns into an intimate, loving, and intensely passionate encounter as you trade vape hits and become consumed by each other.

Pairings: Choso x f!reader

Content: Explicit content { { MDNI } }, switchy/ lightweight/ possessive Choso, established relationship, post-laundry relaxation, new living arrangements, fluff, teasing, some biting, kissing/ making out, shotgunning THC vape pen, heavy petting, pet names (baby, baby doll, pretty princess, etc.).

Word Count: 2.3k+

Author’s note: This is my first one shot. I’ve been pretty obsessed with Jujutsu Kaisen lately so I hope you guys will enjoy what I think Choso would be like in this specific situation! I love him ,_,

You and Choso bustle around the apartment, sorting out the last bits of laundry before heading to the laundromat. As you shake out one of your hoodies, a small object tumbles out and lands on the floor. You pick it up, realizing it was your long-lost THC vape pen.

"Look what I found!" you exclaimed, holding it up with a triumphant grin, “And it’s still got a lot in it!”

Choso glances over curiously. "What? Where did you find that?”

"Found it in my hoodie! Just in time before it went through the wash," you say. "Want to get a little zooted when we get back?"

“Zooted?” he laughs and then nods while giving you a tentative smile, eyes sparkling with intrigue. "Sure, why not."

✧✧✧

After finishing the laundry, returning home, Choso adamant on not letting you carry the heavy basket, you two come up to the door. “You don’t always gotta be such a sweetheart, you know that, right?”

Choso smirks contentedly and leans in to give your nose a sweet lingering kiss, “I’d do anything for you, my pretty princess.” He kisses your cheek. A sweet loving kiss that seems to everlast.

✧✧✧

As you both walk in, he sets the basket next to the couch arm and plops down. His left arm splayed to make room for you. You set your keys down on the coffee table, toss your sweatpants off and plop down right beside him, cuddling into his large masculine frame. He pulls you closer, his lips brushing against your cheek. His nose– tickling your ear. He kisses your temple firmly and leans his forehead against yours. You both let out a relieved sigh as you press your face into the nook of his neck.

Choso runs his fingers through your hair, “So about that vape pen?” he asks.

You straighten your posture a bit as you fish the pen back out of your short pockets. You held it up again, your excitement palpable. "Ready?"

He nods, watching you intently, curiously, innocently. You took the first hit, savoring the uplifting effects of the hybrid strain. The plumes escape your nostril and his eyes glimmer watching your eyes dilate and your shoulders lax.

Leaning forward, you align your face and cradle your boyfriends’ face in your hands as you kiss him, lingering on his bottom lip. You trace his lip with your tongue, eager for him to taste the herbal citrus of your recent vape hit. He eases his lips into yours and slips his tongue against yours. Velvety smooth and hints of orange citrus saliva intertwine with the sweetness of him..

You pull away, leaving that sloppy saliva strand that you lick back up to give him a more clsoe mouthed, tame kiss. Choso shifts constantly under your kiss and holds back a moan as you ask in a whisper, “Can I shotgun it into your mouth from mine?”

He looks at you hesitantly before a wide smile forms on his sweet pale face, “Of course, my pretty girl.”

He pulls you closer by your waist as you take a heavy pull off the vape. You align his face with yours, kissing him once. He opens his mouth eagerly for you as you exhale the vapor back into his mouth, the intimate shotgunning making him slightly dizzy. His eyes become glossy, a dreamy expression takes over his features, “Oh, ahah–aa Y/n, this is what it feels… like.. huh?” he stammers out.

You dote on him as you plant kisses on his face again. He’s sweetly delirious just from a single hit. You tease him, your lips lingering on his as you playfully nip at his lower lip. "My precious lightweight, already so affected..."

Choso's breath hitches, his body responding to your touch as you palm his already growing hardness. His heart flutters wildly. “Cho… already worked up, huh?”. He tries to murmur back something, but the feeling of his cock twitching underneath your hand leaves him effortlessly docile, hot under his clothes, and too flustered to string together words. He nods, swallowing hard.

You sits more firmly on his sharp hips, dragging back as you begin to kiss and nip down his jawline, finally finding a spot to leave your love bites. Between moments of him squirming and your acute hickies, you ask, “Think you can handle more?”

He shivers, his hands roaming your sides, switching between gentle caresses and needy gropes. "I can handle more than you think," he murmurs, his voice husky with desire and intoxication. His hands starting to wander from his iron grip on your waist.

You coo softly, “I know you can handle more, my sweet Cho", giving his hardness a firm grind between the heat resonating between your legs… He let out a low whine, his need for you intensifying.

His hardness pressed against you through his pants, and you began to grind against him, moving back and forth with deliberate, slow movements. His breath hitched, and his hands found your waist, gripping you as if to anchor himself.

Leaning down, you took another hit from the vape and held it as you looked into his delicate doe eyes. His eyes lock swift yours and he leans in for another shotgunned hit.

Choso complied, his eyes half-lidded and filled with desire. The intimacy of the act makes you both shiver. He deepens the kiss, the shared vapor making your heads spin. He ruts sloppily up against your clothed cunt with a suppressed moan into your mouth.

"You're doing so well, baby," you murmur against his lips, feeling his hips buck more beneath you. "You’re my sweet lightweight, huh?"

Choso groans at your words and his breathing deepens as he stammers out, “Yo–your sweet light weight”. He grips on your waist, suddenly tightening his fingers as they digging into your skin with a possessive need. You huff pushing your ass onto his lap even harder as you lick and kiss up the side of his face, “All fucking mine…”

You pull back, following his hazy glazed eyes of need. His hands snaking from your hips, over your cute tits, to your neck, "And you're mine," he growled softly, his voice a mix of sweetness and feral intensity. "And I.. mm.. w–want all of you, baby"

You felt a thrill at his words, your own desire further heightening– unable to contain yourself. The daze makes your eyes half mooned. They close as you lean against his toned chest, "All yours, Cho," you whisper back, leaving fervent love bites on his chest. He grabs your jawline for a savory kiss reminding you both of how stoned the two of you are– the taste of citrus lingering . Still, his response was immediate, his mouth moving against yours with a sloppy hunger that made your toes curl and his grip slip against the fabric of your shirt.

You continue to grind against him, feeling the friction build between you. His breath hot and heavy as he moved down. In turn, he bites and sucks the divots of your collarbone and shoulders. His need for you evident in every hazy twitch of his cock, and every dizzy whimper that escapes your mouth, you could feel him grow below, “You do things… to.. me.. baby girl..”

You smile slyly as you reach between you, tugging down his pants and boxers just enough to free his hardness. The sight of him, swollen and ready, slapping against his meticulously chiseled abs make your eyes completely mesmerized– your need to touch, lick up and kiss and and and…

With a deep breath, a tight readiness below your stomach, you lean in closer, almost face-to-face with his sleeper of a hardness. Your fingers and palm centimeters away, the heat emanates wildly off him, matching your own fire.

As you reach out to grab his burning hot cock, he smirks deviously and grabs your wrist, “Tsk, tsk, I think we both need a little more…” his voice trails off as you watch him pull the vape pen out again, “don’t you think?”. He smirks as you watch him take a heavier hit than you did before. “Cho– don’t– be careful with that!”

He nods his head– a signal to veer closer. He grabs your chin, his finger trailing the underside of your jaw. You ease against his lips and breath in the sweet citrus. He follows by giving you a sloppy fucking kiss, his tongue eager to fight against yours. The smoke plumes between the subtle empty spaces between your interlocking lips and tongue. Both of you melted in the deliberate kiss– making your hearts zuzz, your minds’ empty, your bodies lost, and your eyes further reddened.

You sat back on to his firm hips, trapping his freed hardness between your wet thighs and soaked panties. Neither of you broke away until you felt the pulsating of his eager member against you. You breathed unsteadily with the feeling. He gasped, barely audible, but his stoned doe eyes looking down in disbelief and then back up to you tells you everything. So eager, so excited, so ready to burst already.

“Y/N, p– please?” Choso sputters out. You reach for both his hands at your waist. Bringing his left to your sacral, making him hook his fingers at the waistband of your panties, and his right hand, a shaking mess, back to enrich his fingertips and palm with your soft tits. He traces over your nipple softly, overwhelmed with the plethora of sensations.

“Slide ‘em to the side f’me, won’t you, Cho?” you says with a breathy, twice as eager moan. His half lidded eyes, opened wide, “You uh–ya sure, baby?”. You nod, your hands wandering down his iliac crest to meet his left hand stammering as he pulls your drenched panties to the side.

Positioning yourself, you slowly guided him into you, the sensation making you both gasp. His eye lids barely closed, the white of his eyes noticeably reddened… You moved with deliberate slowness, wanting to savor every inch as he stifled his moans. His hands gripped your hips, helping to guide you as you take his entirety, barely with ease. Your wetness making it easier, but his size makes you stretch. He lets out an uneven breath as you start to set a steady rhythm.

Choso's breaths were ragged and completely broken, each movement driving him closer to the edge. "You’r— you’re fucking mine," he repeated, his voice trembling with need. "I– I can– never get– enough– of you, my slutty pretty–"

You grinned, leaning down to kiss him deeply. "I– I can’t either, Cho.." you say, your voice filled with affection and sultry desire. You increased the pace slightly, the friction sending waves of pleasure through both of you.

As you rode him, you could feel his body tensing beneath you, his breathy moans filling the room. You slow down each time he seems a little too close to release, edging him and drawing out the pleasure. "You're so fucking responsive," you murmur, your lips grazing his ear. "I love how you react to my touch."

Choso lifts his shakily head from ecstasy, his mouth slightly agape from watching as his cock disappears and reappears covered by your needy pussy with your slick honey. He smiles so fucking wide, quickly changing into dark desire as his hands roam your body, his thumb tracking over your clit, his other hands groping at your plump ass, his touch desperate and reverent. "Please," he begged, his voice barely audible. "I need you."

"I– I need you too, my love," you reply, your movements becoming more urgent. You could feel the pressure building within you, the need for release becoming almost unbearable.

You continue to edge him, the sensation of being so close yet not quite there driving him wild. His moans become more frantic, saying your name, your full name between his sloppy pumps up, his grip on you tightening more and more and more and more and…. "Please," he groans again, his voice evidently breaking. "Baby– girl– I– I can't hold on much longer."

“Hold on, baby… just.. alittle..” , you moan back reaching for the vape pen once more, taking a quick hit as he watches in further disbelief. His mouth still agape, you lean in and blow it into his mouth.

He breathes in and then out, “F-f–fuck”, our own release just within reach. You move with him, your bodies perfectly in sync as you finally allow yourselves to tip over the edge. The release— he caves first, pulling you close to him, his hands grabbing all over you searching for nowhere in particular just as long as you're close… The release so intense, waves of pleasure crashing over both of you as you held each other tightly. The sun fluttering on your skin from the window, a realization of his cum deep in you, connected in the most intimate way possible. You grind against him, dead set on making his face completely red, “S–so.. S–so sensitive, baby girl…”

As the aftershocks subsided, you collapsed onto Choso's chest, both of you breathing heavily, hearts still a racing, pounding mess. He kisses you softly, his lips tasting you. "You did so fucking well, my girl" he murmured, feeling the love and connection between you.

You smile with ease, biting his lower lip. His eyes still glazed with the remnants of the high, still lost in your tender space. "Still needy, my sweet girl?," he whispers, his voice filled with gratitude, adoration, and intrigue.

“Should I manipulate the blood back into my cock?” he smirks breathlessly.

You slap his chest lightly with a smiley giggle knowing he isn’t joking… because you can feel him twitching even more still buried in you...

(dividers by @cafekitsune)

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mattslolita · 7 months ago

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lunchbox friends - n. sturniolo ( 001. )

in which ... they meet at a melanie martinez concert and become best friends. ( platonic!nick & platonic!black!fem reader )

warnings ; cussings, mentions of vape, mostly fluff!

"𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓."

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰

nervousness flooded your body as you walked up towards the venue to see your favorite singer — melanie martinez.

since 2017 when you first began listening to her, she's resonated with you deeply. her lyrics which spoke poetry about real life situations, and how her song titles were innocent but the song went deeper — the cry baby album would always be your favorite and hold a special place in your heart, but when melanie dropped portals you literally had it on repeat since that day. it's safe to say nymphology was your favorite song.

unfortunately, you didn't have many friends that listened to her on the level you did, so it resulted in you not having anyone to go with. your anxiety increased due to this, because you didn't particularly like going places alone.

your hands adjusted the bands on your wrist then you smoothed your earth green long skirt from your outfit in confidence — the line was finally starting to move as you could see the arena ahead of you, causing your nerves to cease slightly as you realized you'd be breathing the same air as your favorite singer in some minutes.

when you reached the front row just behind the barricade, you found yourself next to people already — your excited nerves flowed through your veins as you looked up at the stage in anticipation.

"oh my gosh, i love your outfit!" a male's voice says from beside you, prompting you to turn to the source.

he was brunette and taller than you, a nose ring that complimented his face nicely — the kind smile on his face caused you to smile at him.

"thank you!" you said to him, your eyes traveling down to his shoes and your smile widened, "i love your shoes so much."

"thank you," he says back to you, "i really liked this whole outfit, i devoured honestly."

"period, you did that!" you giggled at him, both of you sharing another laugh with one another.

"i'm nick, by the way," he tells you, holding his hand out for you to shake.

you look at him like he's crazy before pulling him in for a hug. "i'm y/n! it's nice to meet you."

"i'm kinda nervous, this is my first concert alone," nick tells you, and you nod knowingly, "my brothers aren't really into melanie so i didn't pressure them into coming with me."

"i'm an only child, i wished i could've had siblings to come here with me," you tell nick, and he grins.

"we should definitely hang out after this, then," nick suggests, and your eyes light up and snap your fingers at him in agreeance.

"yo brothers are finna be sick of us with the way i'm gonna blast melanie all the time," you giggle, causing nick to laugh along with you.

right off the bat, you know nick matched your energy really well — he was exactly what you looked for in a friend, and it was like a breath of fresh air when all that surrounded you in the past was toxicity.

suddenly the lights dimmed, causing both you and nick to share a grin as you clamp onto his wrist excitedly — a beautiful, earthy escape came on the screen and your eyes wandered around it as you marveled at the pretty mushrooms and butterflies that littered the scenery.

"bitch oh my gosh," nick gasps quietly, tugging on your arm to capture your attention, "she's here."

"oh my fucking word."

low and behold, melanie emerges from the stage causing everyone including both you and nick to go wild upon seeing her — alot of people shamed her for the prosthetics she wore, but you thought it was one of the most creative and bravest things she'd ever pulled off. it was definitely different, but that's why you loved her so much — she never limited her creativity, always going outside of the box. and she ate every time.

"MELANIE, I LOVE YOU!" you yelled, cupping your hands around your mouth as she lets out a giggle into the microphone.

"la, how are you guys tonight?" melanie announces, and the crowd immediately whoops and hollers for her.

"girl, cause what do you mean we're breathing the same air as her right now?" nick whispers to you, causing you to laugh as he holds his phone up towards her to capture the moment.

you follow suit, also discreetly taking a few pictures of both you and nick together ( mostly of you freaking out ), before the first song comes on, her dancers coming out as well — death.

an excited squeal comes from your mouth as you and nick are now both recording each other singing along to the song silently.

"when you aren't around," you narrate with your hands, recording you and nick, "i sink into the ground. i try to pretend i'm closer to you!"

"never understand it, you're always on my mind, i cannot help it," nick sings along with you, the both of you watching as melanie and her dancers perform in front of you.

as your favorite part draws closer, you find yourself beginning to dance, feeling this song so badly as you and nick continue singing with melanie.

"BACK FROM THE DEAD, BACK FROM THE DEAD!" you both sing, holding each other's hand as you sing, "I'M BACK FROM THE DEAD, BACK FROM THE DEAD!"

you're hyping each other up at this point and you're pretty sure there's other people giving you both crazy looks, but you could care less as you're both relishing in the amazing time you're having.

pretty soon your favorite song starts playing, and you squeal at nick in excitement as you grab his shoulder. "bitch, this is my song! i'm gonna teach you to shake ass to this one!"

"bitch i'm so excited, don't fucking play with me!" nick yells back to you.

"CALL ME YOUR NYMPH, PRAISE ME FOR MARTYR, PRAISE ME FOR SIN!" you both sing to each other, "CALL ME YOUR MUSE, A SPRITE OR AN ELF THAT YOU CRY TO AND USE!"

"i will not suffer, cry under covers," melanie sings into the microphone, swaying along and you feel yourself about to get crazy, "i'm not your mother, oh oh, oh oh-"

"IT'S NYMPHOLOGY, NOT PSYCHOLOGY!" you and nick scream, and you begin throwing it back slightly, causing nick to hype you up as he records you, "BE THE MANIC PIXIE DREAM GIRL BITCH YOU FUCKING OUTTA BE!"

"damaged audity, bought by sotheby's!" melanie sings, dancing on the stage causing you and nick to cling onto each other, "auctioned to a selfish man who thinks that he's the prophecy!"

"you can't even spell that you're an expert in nymphology!" nick sings as he records melanie.

he remains blissfully unaware as you quickly open your small purse and duck your head to take a quick hit from your peach mango watermelon elfbar, blowing the smoke downwards so that nobody could notice you.

"girl let me hit that real quick," nick whispers to you and your eyes widen before you giggle and pass it to him, watching as he ducks down the same way you did to take a hit.

the rest of the concert was magical — you couldn't believe the energy that melanie produced and the amazing show that she performed, and the newest friendship that you made. even the smallest moments like when melanie giggled into the mic again whilst singing moon cycle, or the way nick gave you water when he noticed that you were running out of breath meant, that meant the most to you.

when the concert was over, you and nick were still attached at the hip as you both gushed nonstop about your favorite singer and her abilities to make this one of the best nights you've ever had.

when you both exited the venue, you two were so engaged in conversation that you almost didn't notice a group of three girls slowly approaching the both of you.

"hi, i don't mean to interrupt you guys," a brunette girl said shyly, messing with a bracelet on her wrist as she and her friends smiled at you both, "i love you guys' videos nick, and you're one of the most gorgeous girls ever."

"thank you!" both you and nick smiled at the same time, causing the girls to giggle.

"i was wondering if i could get a picture with you both?" she asked, looking between the both of you.

"are you okay with that, y/n?" nick asks you, and you beam at the girl with a nod.

"did you guys wanna be in it too?" you asked her friends sweetly, both of them nodding with shy smiles.

the brunette girl gets in the middle as you and nick gather around her, one friend next to nick whilst the other stands on the other side of you — you smile into the camera as the girl quickly snaps three photos, and your heart could melt at the way she gushed in admiration.

"thank you guys so much!" she said to the both of you, "have a great night!"

"you too, love!" nick tells her, and you wave to them kindly.

"videos?" you querie nick with a smile, "what kind of videos do you make?"

"me and my brothers have a youtube channel together, we do vlogs and car videos," nick explains, and you nod in intrigue. "this is actually one of the first nights where i get to relax and have fun like this, honestly."

"i love that for you, then," you tell nick, then you wriggle your eyebrows with a grin, "and i would love even more to meet these brothers of yours."

nick rolls his eyes at this playfully. "girl, they're gonna wanna steal you from me!"

"that's not finna happen, cause you were gang before they were!" you tell him.

"do you live in la by any chance?" nick asks you.

"i do!" you smile, pulling your phone out and going to contacts, "give me your number and shit so we can text each other!"

"we need to plan to hang out again, too!" nick adds, as he puts his number into your phone.

"lemme call an uber before it gets too late," you pout slightly, not yet wanting to stop talking to nick. "it was so amazing meeting you, nick!"

"girl, it was great meeting you too!" nick smiles.

you bring him in for yet another hug, then ask him various times if he had a ride home to make sure he was safe — after finally reassuring you, your uber had pulled up not long after and with one final hug to nick for the night, you hop inside, waving him goodbye.

when you got home, the first thing you did was turn on the heater since it was cold in your house.

you slipped your sandals off and put your purse on the foot of your bed, going into your bathroom to wash off your makeup. a text from nick caused you to grin as you got your makeup wipes and began with the blush on your face.

twinflame❤‍🔥💋

girl tell me why i accidentally sent one of the videos to my brother and he IMMEDIATELY asked for your instagram👀

twinn🤞💜

nick😭😭😭😭

is he cute tho ?🤣

twinflame❤‍🔥💋

🙄 y'all haven't even met yet and it's already starting

i'm disappointed.

twinn🤞💜

BYEEE

no but don't give him my gram yet, i wanna meet in person😝

twinflame❤‍🔥💋

do you wanna come over sometime next weekend ?

we can go out to eat somewhere then come back and hang out!

twinn🤞💜

absolutelyyyy !

i'm so down & i'll text you to let you know !

twinflame❤‍🔥💋

goodnight girl❤

twinn🤞💜

goodnight stinkaa😘

twinflame❤‍🔥💋 liked this message!

you exited out of your messages with a content smile, finding yourself extremely excited for the next time you both would hang out. you could tell this friendship would be a good one, and you were hoping it was better than the type of friends you had in the past.

( lilly's section 💌 )

cause this been in my drafts for TOO long, & i love my fav so yk i had to make a best friends series for him😝 for my twinnie @thenickgirl happy early birthday to us🤭.

@luverboychris @muwapsturniolo @prettiest-poision @mattsturniolosleftnut @mrssturnioloo @guccifrog @junnniiieee07 @astrowh0r3 @v33angel @ilovechrissturniolo1 @e1ias3 @l0akkzz @hysteria-things @eyeliketoeatpoosay @sturn777 @stasiesturn @prettypinkprincess15 @breeloveschris @summerssover @mayhem-72 @riasturns @chrissturniolossidehoe @moonk1ss3d @v33angel @h3arts4harry @stargirll567 @bitchydragonparadise @heartsforchrisandmatt @pepsienthusiasts @tillies33ssss @thenickgirl @sturnprime @summerssover @k4di333 @pinksturniolo @middlepartmatt

#nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nick sturniolo x you #nick sturniolo x reader #nicolas sturniolo x you #nicolas sturniolo x reader #platonic #best friends #sturniolo triplets #the sturniolo triplets #the sturniolos #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo fandom #sturniolo imagine #Spotify

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lefteagleblizzard · 3 months ago

Text

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢𝔫𝔱'𝔰 𝔰𝔬𝔫

Derek Danforth x male reader

Summary: At a stiflingly dull party, an opulent celebration of Derek Danforth’s mother’s election as President of the United States, you escape to the garden for some fresh air. There, a late-night encounter by the pool turns into a game of strip pong with unexpected stakes. With your terrible aim, some steamy and passionate moments develop between you two.

Warnings: male reader. Derek being a tease. Stranger to lovers. Relationship with your boss. Strip pocket. Gay. Gay smut. Pool sex. Handjob. Anal sex.

This can also be found on wattpad and ao3

Words count: 4500 words.

The party inside the beautiful villa had been a grand affair, an opulent celebration of Derek Danforth’s mother’s election as President of the United States.

You had grown tired of the stifling heat inside, the air thick with the smell of expensive cigars and the sweet tang of vape pens. The oppressive atmosphere was suffocating, and you needed a break. Slipping away from the main room, you made your way through the sliding glass doors and out onto the patio, grateful for the cool night air that greeted you.

You could still feel the haze of smoke clinging to your clothes, a mixture of cigars and expensive vape clouds that had permeated the air all evening.

The pool lay before you. It was massive, almost the size of a small lake, with perfectly smooth edges that mirrored the elegant design of the villa. At the center of the pool, a small fountain burbled softly, its stream of water arcing gracefully before cascading down into the pool with a gentile splash.

The smell of the water was strong, an almost overpowering scent of chlorine mixed with something floral, like jasmine or honeysuckle, carried on the breeze.

You took in the scene around you, the few remaining guests were sprawled out on the lounge chairs or even directly on the grass, passed out from too much alcohol, their expensive outfits now rumpled and askew.

You walked over to the edge of the pool and sat down, dipping your feet into the cool water. The sensation was immediately refreshing, the chill of the water a welcome contrast to the heat of the villa. You let out a long sigh, feeling some of the tension of the evening melt away as you gazed out at the water.

After a few minutes of peaceful solitude, you heard footsteps approaching from behind. You turned around and saw Derek, the CEO and your boss, standing there with a curious expression on his face. He was dressed, as usual, in an eccentric ensemble. In one hand, he held a vape pen, the other casually tucked into the pocket of his pants.

His shirt, a crisp white button-down, was slightly undone at the collar, revealing a hint of tanned skin underneath.

His eyes locked onto yours as he took a slow draw from his vape.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" he drawled, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. His voice was smooth, laced with a hint of amusement. "Taking a little break here all alone?"

You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks at his attention, though you tried to play it off with a casual shrug. "It was getting a bit stuffy inside," you replied, trying to keep your tone steady. "Needed some fresh air." Derek chuckled, taking a slow drag from his vape before exhaling a plume of smoke

into the night air.

"Smart move. The party's winding down, but it looks like some people couldn't handle their liquor," he said, glancing over at the passed-out bodies on the lawn. "Quite a sight, isn't it?"

You laughed nervously, trying to focus on something other than the way he was looking at you, like he was sizing you up.

"Yeah, it's definitely been... eventful"

He chuckled, his eyes never leaving yours. "Eventful. That's one way to put it."

"So," he said after a moment, breaking the silence, "what do you do for fun at these kinds of things? Besides, sit by the pool and look hot, of course."

You laughed, a little flustered by the compliment. "Honestly? I'm not really sure. I'm not usually the one to go all out at parties like this."

He raised an eyebrow, his interest clearly piqued. "Really? So, you're saying you're not into the usual antics?"

You shrugged, trying to downplay your nerves. "I guess I'm more of a low-key kind of person. I like to people-watch, maybe find a quiet corner to relax in."

"People-watch, huh?" He seemed amused by that. "I guess you've had quite the show tonight then."

"Definitely," you agreed, smiling. "There's never a dull moment when people start drinking”

He nodded, his gaze shifting to the passed-out guests around the pool.

He took another drag from his vape, exhaling slowly, the vapor curling around his face before dissipating into the night. "It's a shame, really. Most of these people have no idea how to enjoy themselves. They just drink until they pass out.”

You glanced over at the passed-out guests around the pool, their limbs sprawled out in various awkward positions. "It does seem like they missed the point of the party."

Derek's smile widened, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "That's the problem with these kinds of parties. People drink to impress, to prove they can keep up, and then they end up like...” He gestured vaguely toward the garden, where a few guests were passed out, one even snoring softly “...that. But you seem to be doing just fine."

You felt your blush deepen, his words and the way he was looking at you sending your heart racing. "I guess I just know my limits."

"Smart," He said while taking a step closer, there was something in the way he was looking at you, a glint in his eye that made your heart skip a beat.

"But where's the fun in that?"

Derek's smile widened, a predatory gleam in his eyes as he took another step closer, now standing right beside you. His gaze lingering on your face a little too long.

In a desperate bid to break the intensity of the moment, you glanced around and spotted a table set up near the pool, red cups lined up neatly on either end. A sudden idea struck you, something that might shift the dynamic, give you a moment to breathe, and perhaps, just perhaps, figure out what Derek really wanted.

"Wanna play a game?" you asked, your voice a little too eager, a little too breathless, but you didn't care. You needed a distraction, something to break the spell he had over you.

Derek raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "What did you have in mind?"

You pointed to the table. "Beer pong. Or, well, whatever's in those cups."

He followed your gaze and then looked back at you, a slow smile spreading across his face. "You want to play beer pong? With me?"

You weren't oblivious to his allure, to the sharp edge of attraction that had been simmering between you all night, but you wanted more than that. You wanted to see if there was something real beneath the surface, something beyond the flirtation and the power plays.

You could tell he was used to people trying to win his favor, trying to seduce him for their own gains, but you wanted something different. You wanted to see if he was interested in more than just the thrill of the chase, if there was something real and tangible behind that carefully constructed facade.

He seemed to sense your intention, and for a brief moment, something in his expression softened, as if he were considering the possibility that you might be different, that you might be someone worth spending time with, not just another conquest. It was a fleeting moment, but it was enough to make you hope that maybe, just maybe, there was more to Derek Danforth than what meets the eye.

"Why not?" you challenged, standing up and taking a step closer to him, the playful energy between you two only growing stronger. "Unless you're afraid I might beat you”

Derek laughed, the sound low and rich. "Afraid? Not at all. But I think we should make it more interesting than just a game."

Your heart skipped a beat as you watched him, his eyes scanning your body with unabashed interest. "What do you have in mind?"

He took a step forward, closing the distance between you until there was barely any space left. "How about this, every time one of us scores a point, the other has to take off a piece of clothing."

You felt your breath catch in your throat, your mind reeling at the proposition. But the excitement in his eyes, the challenge in his voice, was impossible to resist. "Deal," you said, your voice a little breathless.

Derek’s grin was wickedly sharp as he sauntered to the table, stepping casually over a passed-out guest without a second thought.

The table was covered in a haphazard array of red solo cups, each containing a small amount of different kind of alcohol. You picked up one of the cups and sniffed it, trying to guess what was inside. Vodka, maybe? Or gin? You weren't sure, but it was definitely potent.

"This is going to be interesting," you said, setting the cup back down and taking your position on one side of the table.

Derek took his spot across from you, a confident smirk on his face as he casually rolled up the sleeves of his green suit jacket. "I hope you're ready to lose," he teased, picking up a ping pong ball and twirling it between his fingers.

You lined up your first shot, your hands trembling slightly with the combination of nerves and the anticipation of what was to come. The ball sailed through the air, but your aim was off, and it bounced off the rim of one of Derek's cups before rolling away. A soft groan of frustration escaped you, only to be met with Derek's quiet, knowing laughter from across the table.

"Not your best start," Derek teased, his voice dripping with amusement as he picked up his ball. He rolled it between his fingers, his gaze locked onto yours with a look that made your stomach flip.

With an almost lazy flick of his wrist, Derek sent the ball sailing across the table. It landed squarely in one of your cups, splashing down into the liquid below. He raised an eyebrow at you, his expression smug, and you could tell he was enjoying every moment of this.

With a quick glance at Derek, who was watching you with an expectant grin, you reached down to remove your shoes. Derek groaned loudly, shaking his head in mock disappointment.

"Shoes? Seriously?" he complained, though his tone was more playful than accusatory. "That's cheating, and you know it"

You feigned innocence, batting your eyes at him. "What? I thought we said any article of clothing."

"You're lucky you're cute, or I'd call foul on that move.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the flutter of nerves in your stomach.

Derek had a way of looking at you that made your thoughts scatter, his intense gaze never leaving you, even as he casually tossed the ball into yet another one of your cups.

"Another point for me," he declared, his grin widening as he watched you. "What's it going to be this time?"

With a sigh, you knew you were running out of options. You reached down, pulling off your socks next and tossing them aside, leaving your feet bare on the cool marble tiles.

The chill of the ground against your skin was a stark contrast to the heat that was building inside you, both from the alcohol and from Derek's relentless flirting.

Derek watched you closely, his eyes darkening with something you couldn't quite place. "Getting closer," he murmured, his voice laced with a dangerous edge. "But you've still got a long way to go."

The alcohol in the cups wasn't helping matters. Each time Derek landed a shot, you had to drink the contents of the cup.

The whiskey was sharp and burned as it went down, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake.

The gin was bitter, almost medicinal, and made you wince with its intensity.

The rum, though smoother, had a sweetness that clung to your tongue, making your head spin with its potency.

The alcohol worked its way deeper into your system, loosening your inhibitions and making it harder to keep your wits about you.

You could tell he was enjoying this, the way his eyes gleamed with victory each time you missed, the way his grin grew wider with each piece of clothing you were forced to remove.

Soon, you were left with only your shirt and trousers. The alcohol had started to blur the edges of your thoughts, making you slower, less coordinated. You lined up another shot, determined to at least get him to strip off more than just his shoes. But your aim was off, and the ball bounced harmlessly off the table, rolling away into the grass.

Derek didn't hesitate. With the same effortless grace, he sent the ball flying, and you knew before it even landed that you were in trouble. The ball splashed down into another one of your cups, and Derek's eyes met yours, his grin downright wicked.

"Well?" he prompted, leaning forward slightly as he watched you. "You know the rules."

You hesitated, glancing down at your remaining clothes. With a resigned sigh, you reached for your belt, unbuckling it slowly before slipping it off and letting it fall to the ground. Then, with more reluctance, you unbuttoned your trousers, sliding them down your legs and stepping out of them. The night air was cool against your skin, and you couldn't help the shiver that ran through you as you stood there in just your shirt and underwear.

You knew you were losing, but there was a thrill in the way Derek looked at you, in the way he seemed to savor every moment of your slow surrender.

You focused on the cup in front of you, trying to steady your hand despite the way your heart was racing.

The ball flew through the air, arcing perfectly before landing with a satisfying splash in one of the cups. Derek raised an eyebrow, impressed, as he reached for the bottom of his suit.

"Well, well," he said, slowly taking it off. "I hope you didn't use up all your luck on that shot." he remarked, his voice smooth and teasing.

You watched, your mouth going dry, as he shrugged off his suit and tossed it aside, showing his slightly unbuttoned white shirt that hugged perfectly his toned frame and revealed part of his hairy chest.

That smug bastard.

He didn't even give you time to recover. With a quick flick of his wrist, he landed another perfect shot, and you knew you were out of options.

You were down to just your shirt and underwear, with Derek barely having lost more than his shoes and shirt.

The imbalance was humiliating.

You glanced at Derek, who was watching you with that same intense gaze, and you knew what he was waiting for.

Swallowing your pride with the help of the alcohol, you decided to play into the moment. You stood up straighter, your hands going to the hem of your shirt. Instead of removing it, you tugged it down lower over your hips, covering yourself as best as you could, and then reached for your underwear.

You slipped them off, tossing them across the table at Derek. Derek's eyes widened in surprise, but he quickly recovered, reaching out to catch your underwear mid-air.

He held them up with a triumphant grin before dropping them over his shoulder, letting them hang there like a trophy, his gaze never leaving yours.

"Now that's what I call a proper forfeit."

You couldn't help but laugh, the ridiculousness of the situation only heightened by the alcohol buzzing through your veins. "Enjoying yourself?" you teased, though you were acutely aware of how exposed you were now.

"Immensely," Derek replied, his voice a little huskier than before. He paused for a moment, his eyes lingering on your nearly bare form, and you felt a shiver run down your spine at the intensity of his gaze.

"I give up," you admitted, raising your hands in defeat. "You win.”

The only consolation was that you did manage to get him to strip off some of his own clothing. His green suit jacket went first, then his shoes, leaving him in just his shirt and pants. But even as you stripped him down, you knew it wasn't enough.

Derek's grin widened, but there was something softer in his eyes as he looked at you. "Are you sure?" he asked, though there was no mistaking the satisfaction in his tone.

"Yeah," you replied, laughing softly as you leaned against the table for support.

He chuckled, stepping around the table to approach you. His presence was overwhelming, the scent of his cologne mixing with the faint traces of alcohol on his breath as he stopped in front of you. "I'll take my victory then, with you as my prize." he murmured, his voice low and smooth.

Before you could react, he reached out and grabbed you by the waist, pulling you flush against him. The sudden contact made your breath hitch, and your hands instinctively went to his chest for balance. You could feel the heat of his body against yours, the steady beat of his heart under your palms.

With a swift motion, Derek lifted you onto the table, his movements fluid and practiced. The cold surface pressed against your thighs, but the sensation was quickly overshadowed by the warmth of Derek's body as he leaned in closer. His lips crashed against yours in a fierce, hungry kiss that took your breath away. All the tension that had been building throughout the game exploded in that

moment, the intensity of his kiss leaving you dizzy.

You could taste the remnants of the alcohol on his lips, a mix of whiskey and something sweet, mingling with the heady sensation of finally giving in to the attraction that had been simmering between you all night.

Derek's hands roamed over your body, sliding under your shirt. Your mind was a whirlwind of sensations, your senses overwhelmed by the way he made you feel.

He pulled back slightly, just enough to look at you, his eyes dark with desire. "You're something else," he murmured, his voice thick with want.

"You're not so bad yourself" you managed to reply, though your voice was breathless, your thoughts scattered by the intensity of his gaze.

Derek's lips curled into a grin, and before you could say anything else, he was kissing you again, harder this time, his hands tightening on your hips as he pulled you closer. The sensation was overwhelming, the heat between you almost unbearable, and you couldn't help but moan into the kiss, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you clung to him.

After the intense kiss on the table, Derek pulled back slightly, his breath mingling with yours, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He gently helped you down from the table, his hands lingering on your waist as he did. "What do you say we take this somewhere more private?" he suggested.

But as you both turned to head back into the villa, you realized that the party had left no room unoccupied. Through the large windows, you could see that every bedroom, lounge, and even some hallways were filled with passed out guests or couples who had claimed their spots long before you two had even thought to look.

Looks like privacy's in short supply tonight.

You extended your hand to retrieved the underwear you had playfully tossed at him earlier. Derek raised an eyebrow at your bold move, watching with keen interest as you stepped back, quickly slipping your underwear back on.

Just as you finished adjusting them, a sudden force hit you, and you gasped as Derek pushed you, sending you tumbling backward into the pool. The cold water swallowed you instantly, shocking your heated skin and taking your breath away. You surfaced quickly, spluttering and laughing as you wiped the water from your face, your hair sticking messily to your forehead.

"You jerk!" you called out, laughing even as you cursed him, your voice echoing slightly in the quiet night. Derek's laughter boomed across the poolside, deep and unrestrained, clearly enjoying your reaction.

Derek's grin was wide and unrepentant as he began stripping off the few clothes he had left. His movements were quick and efficient, and before you knew it, he was down to just his boxers. With a playful wink in your direction, he dove into the pool, cutting through the water with the same ease and grace he seemed to approach everything else in life.

He swam towards you rapidly, the cool water parting as he moved, and within moments, his strong arms wrapped around you from behind. You let out a soft gasp as he pulled you close, his chest pressing against your back, maneuvering your body until you were flush against the smooth tile wall of the pool, trapping you between the unyielding surface and his firm, solid presence.

"You look good like this," Derek murmured, his voice a low growl that dripped with desire as his lips hovered just above your ear. "Wet, breathless, and all mine."

Your hands found their way to his chest, fingers splaying out across the hard muscles there.

Derek's lips found yours again, and the kiss was everything you had been craving. It was deep, almost bruising in its intensity, filled with the pent-up desire that had been building between you all night. His tongue parted your lips, and you welcomed him eagerly, your own tongue tangling with his as the kiss deepened.

His mouth found the sensitive spot just below your ear, and he bit down, not gently, but with a force that made you gasp, the pain melding into pleasure so intense it left you dizzy. His kisses were hot and demanding, leaving a trail of fire in their wake as he moved lower, his lips finding the sensitive spot just above your collarbone. You gasped, your head tilting back to give him better access, and he took full advantage, his tongue flicking out to taste the water on your skin.

The scent of chlorine filled your senses, sharp and pungent. It mingled with the heady, masculine scent of Derek's cologne. A fragrance that was rich and woody, with undertones of leather and spice.

His hands continued their exploration till they were groping your butt, pulling you even closer against him. He squeezed, and a low, involuntary moan escaped your lips, swallowed by his mouth as he kissed you deeper, harder, lifting you slightly so that you were almost weightless in the water.

"Derek..” you breathed, his name slipping from your lips like a prayer, like a plea. You weren't even sure what you were asking for, only that you needed more of him, needed him to touch you, to kiss you, to make you forget everything but the way he made you feel.

He growled again, a deep, primal sound that made your pulse quicken. "I know," he murmured against your skin, his voice thick with desire. "I know"

Each time his mouth claimed yours, he deepened the kiss with a fervor that left you gasping. His tongue explores the inside of your mouth, tasting, claiming, and savoring the essence of you.

"You're my good slutty boy," he murmured against your skin. His voice was rough, tinged with a possessiveness that both terrified and thrilled you.

The water sloshed around you, the sound of it punctuating the quiet night, a symphony of soft splashes and the labored breaths that escaped both of you as you moved together.

The taste of the alcohol lingered in your mouth. It mingled with something more, a distinctive personal flavor that was uniquely yours.

He kissed you again, deeper this time, as if he was trying to absorb every last drop of you, as if he had decided that he wanted to always taste the essence of the drinks through your mouth from now on, a craving that could only be satisfied by you.

He squeezed your butt again, his fingers digging in just enough to make you arch against him, seeking more, needing more.

His hand moved forward, slipping past the elastic rim of your boxers, digging his hands inside the garment and against your prick.

They were pulling, squeezing, torturing you in the best way possible.

“Derek...” you gasped, gripping the rounded, concrete edge of the pool. You could feel something jabbing at your butt, rubbing along the cheeks while he started jerking his hips.

He yanked down your boxers, startling an awkward yelp from you as he shoved his fingers in your mouth.

When he pulled out his fingers, his other hand still in your hair, he drove the slick digits down along the submerged line of your buttocks. Without warning, he stuck one of them inside, all the way to the second knuckle.

You jerked. “-Aah – wha –D-Derek...” you gasped brokenly through the burn of Derek’s finger-fucking.

“Only getting started,” Derek ground out, pumping his finger hard into the tight flesh. “I’m gonna fuck you til you scream.” He added, breathy and low.

Derek’s voice grated over the ebbing pain, grinding raw pleasure into you.

A third finger struck at your loosened inner muscles. The overpowering burn forced his eyes shut, and an, “Ah-oh –oh God, oh God...” from your lips.

The fingers drew out of you, and in a few second’s adjustment, something vaster pushed past the outermost rim. You gasped – you almost couldn’t breathe – oh fuck.

“Got a –hnng– a tight ass – fuck,” Derek groaned as he shoved himself in further, grinding his hips against your ass.

Those merciless thrusts pounded you faster, deeper, leaving you gasping desperately for air like a fish out of water. Then the hilt of Derek’s length slammed up against something, and just as you were told, you started screaming.

He fucked you senseless, hard at a wild pace, fucked you until with one long cry you quaked and reeled with blissful tremors. Derek grunted and came inside while you tensed around his cock, filling you up with hot liquid.

As the final waves of pleasure washed over you both, your bodies trembled in the aftermath, still intertwined in the cool water of the pool. The night air was filled with the sound of your labored breathing, mingling with the gentle lapping of water against the tiles.

Derek's strong arms remained around you, holding you close as you both caught your breath.

After a few moments of silence, Derek leaned in, his lips brushing lightly against your ear. His voice was low, intimate, filled with a promise that sent a shiver down your spine. "Come home with me," he murmured, his breath warm against your skin.

“We're not done yet."

There was something irresistible in the way he said it, a quiet command that you had no intention of refusing.

You nodded slightly, your heart racing again at the thought of what more the night could hold.

As you both slowly untangled yourselves, Derek's hands lingered on you, as if reluctant to let go even for a moment.

Once you were out of the water, the cool night air hit your damp skin, making you shiver slightly. Derek was quick to drape a towel around your shoulders, his usual commanding demeanor softened by an unexpected tenderness.

He wrapped his own towel around his waist, his eyes never leaving yours as he began to gather up his clothes, handing you yours as well.

Once you were both dressed, Derek took your hand, his grip warm and reassuring. He led you through the quiet villa, the remnants of the party now nothing more than a distant memory.

As you walked, Derek's mind was already working, calculating and planning.

He had been thinking about you long before tonight, and now, after what you had shared, he knew he wanted to keep you close, much closer.

Promotion, he thought to himself,

would be the perfect excuse to see you more often, to keep you within reach.

After all, someone as talented and intriguing as you deserved recognition, didn't they?

Note: If you liked this story please leave a comment, I love reading them <3.

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