#the ones where the sleeves reach up to the fingers?
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mariasont · 2 days ago
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EEEEK your post prison fic for spencer is fREAking me out!!! could you maybe do one where spencer is now teasing the reader a bit? maybe he's giving her extra praise and she freaks (what would i do if he called me a good girl? 😩) (this is very indulgent to my praise kink i'm so so sorry 🧎🏻‍♀️‍➡️) tytyty!! i adore love and cherish you and your work 💕
I Aim To Please - S.R
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a/n: shewwwwww to be complimented by post prison spencer fucking reid. im drooling!!!! but anyway babes i adore & love YOU!!!! so thank u so so sooo much for requesting 💖💖
masterlist
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pairings: spencer reid x shy!media-liaison!reader
warnings: spencer being hot, reader being shy girl, spencer being a little shit who loves to tease
wc: 1.5k
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There were a few basic rules you had established from working at BAU. First, avoid Rossi at all costs until he’s had at least two cups of coffee. Second, never attempt to outwit Emily; she’ll see right through you and crush your argument every single time. And third—perhaps the most crucial—do everything in your power to maintain your freaking composure around Dr. Reid.
That last one, however, was proving to be a monumental challenge. It wasn’t just the way he spoke, his brain firing off at a speed only he could keep up with. It wasn’t even the way he seemed oblivious to how endearing those very quirks were. No, it was the fact that the simple act of him breathing in your direction had you scrambling to hold yourself together. And honestly you were failing miserably.
Which is why you spent most of your time holed up in your office. It wasn’t much—just a desk, a slightly uncomfortable chair, and a perpetually growing stack of case files that seemed determined to bury you. But it offered privacy, and that was enough. Here you could breathe, decompress, and occasionally allow yourself to daydream about a certain genius profiler without the risk of public humiliation.
The bullpen was proving to be too chaotic, too close to him. Your office gave you distance, a buffer. But, as you had come to learn, hiding only worked when he didn’t decide to seek you out. And Spencer Reid had a knack for finding you when you least expected it.
"Hey."
You jumped slightly, nearly fumbling the stack of press notes you’d been carefully organizing.
Turning toward the door, you found Spencer leaning casually against the frame, a file tucked under one arm and a distracted sort of smile on his face. His tie was slightly loosened, his sleeves rolled up just enough to expose his forearms, and—just like that—your brain completely short-circuited.
"Hi," you said, trying not to sound too startled. "Do you, um, need something?"
"Yeah." He further into the room, lifting the file in explanation. "I was looking at the local coverage of our case, and I noticed a couple discrepancies in the timeline published."
"Oh,” you said softly, quickly shuffling the press notes into a messy pile and pushing them to the side. "Well, um, sometimes reporters try to fill gaps when they don't the facts. It's... frustrating, but it happens."
You glanced up at him briefly, but that look of his made your cheeks warm. Your fingers twisted together in your lap as you tried to focus on anything other than how ridiculously self-conscious you suddenly felt.
"That makes sense. I figured you'd know."
Instead of lingering in the doorway or leaving like you assumed he would, Spencer, casually grabbed the chair across from your desk. He spun it around in one fluid motion and sat it backwards, draping his arms on the backrest with an ease that felt strangely familiar—like you had been friends or colleagues for years instead of just a few months.
"I'll reach out to them about fixing the timeline," you said, your hand instinctively moving a stray strand of hair behind your ear. You clasped your hands together to still them, offering a small, nervous smile. "It shouldn't be too hard to correct."
"Thanks," he said. "That'll probably save from giving another long-winded lecture on factual reporting."
You gave a quiet laugh, grateful for the distraction from your tasks, though you weren’t entirely sure how you felt about the company. Not that you didn’t enjoy his company—there was plenty to enjoy, more than you cared to admit. If you could manage to function like a normal human being around him, you might even look forward to moments like this.
But then he tilted his head slightly, his eyes studying you as if he were unraveling some kind of puzzle and for one terrifying second, you were convinced he could hear every single thought racing through your mind.
"So," he began, "how are you liking it here so far? The job, I mean. Is it what you expected?"
You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in conversation. "Oh, um... yeah. It's been great so far. Busy, but... I like it."
"That's good," he said, nodding. "I know it’s not exactly the most predictable job. Some people don't expect it to be so... chaotic."
"Well," you said, fidgeting slightly with your pen. "I knew what I was signing up for. Or, at least I thought I did. It's a lot, but it's rewarding."
"That's a good attitude to have," he said, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Honestly, you're doing a great job. I don't know how you manage to keep everything straight."
Your heart leaped, thudding in your chest as warmth flooded your face. You weren’t used to hearing compliments, especially from someone like him. You wanted to savor the moment, to bottle up the way his words made you feel, but your nerves refused to let you fully enjoy it.
"I'm just, um, organized I guess,” you stammered, your hand flying up to rub at the back of your neck.
"More than just organized," he replied easily, completely unaware of how his words were affecting you. "You've got half the team wrapped around your finger already. Even Rossi listen when you talk. That's impressive."
Your face burned. "I think that's more about respect for the job than me."
Spencer shrugged lightly, as he was watching you, like he didn't quite believe you. "Maybe. Or maybe you're just better at this than you give yourself credit for."
You let out a nervous chuckle, fingers twitching as you fiddled with the corner of the paper in front of you.
"I don't... I don't know about that."
He tilted his head, again, his brow quirking. "Do you know how to take a compliment?"
"Of course I do." You were sure your voice lacked the conviction needed.
He smirked, leaning forward over the chair. "Doesn't seem like it."
You opened your mouth to respond, but the words stuck in your throat, tangled in the frantic web that was your thoughts around this infuriating man.
"Well, uh, you’ve only done it twice, so I don’t think that’s enough for you to judge."
His grin widened. "Oh? So you’re saying I should try again? For research purposes?"
Your eyes widened, and you blinked rapidly as if to process his words, your hands shooting up as if to physically block the implication. "I—uh—no, that's not what I meant.”
"No, no," he said, sitting up straighter and waiving off your flustered attempt to deflect. "I aim to please. If more compliments are what you’re after, I’ve got plenty.”
"Please, no."
"You're incredibly efficient. Seriously, I think you've managed to anticipate what the team needs before we even know we need it. And your ability to keep your cool under pressure? That's impressive. I mean, do you even get stressed? Because if you do, you hide it really well."
"Dr. Reid—," you squeaked, covering your face with your hands as if that could somehow shield you from the onslaught of praise.
"And," he continued, clearly now enjoying himself. "You're probably the most patient person, I've ever met. Which is something, considering you work with people who constantly interrupt and derail your perfectly planned press briefings."
Your stomach flipped, and you felt a flush of heat that had nothing to do with embarrassment pooling in your chest. As much as you wanted to sink to the floor, the way he looked at you sent every nerve in your body spiraling. Each word felt like it was tailored to you, peeling back the very thin veneer of control you’d desperately tried to maintain over the massive crush you found yourself drowning in.
Your head dropped to the desk with a soft thunk, muffling your groan. "Okay, okay, I get it."
He leaned forward just slightly, resting his chin on his arms atop the chair. "Now what do you say?"
"Thank you."
He smirked widened. "See? That wasn't so hard was it?"
Your cheeks burned even hotter, and you averted your eyes, trying to hide the nervous smile tugging at your lips. "You didn't have to go on and on..."
"Oh, but I did." He was still grinning. "You deserved it."
You risked a glance back at him, losing your cool by the second. That only made your face heat up more. "You're impossible."
"And yet, you haven't kicked me out of your office."
"That's only because I didn’t think it would work."
"Well," he said, turning towards the door. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you didn't mind the compliments."
You opened your mouth to protest but no words came out. Instead, you watched helplessly as he shot you one last smile before disappearing into the hallway.
When the door finally clicked shut behind him, you let out a shaky breath and drop your head back onto the desk.
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willesworld · 3 days ago
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autistic wille hc where he gets overstimulated when he sleeps in hoodies because the hood is too thick and its touching his neck in the wrong way and the sleeves don't stay over his wrists and it gets bunched up too easily --- but he's always cold. so when he can't wear a sweatshirt, simon wraps him up like a freaking burrito in his arms and the blanket and they js hold each other and simon brings him the warmth he needed.
Outside the window, rain splattered against thick, bare tree branches and the brick siding of the house, sending a dull pattering throughout the walls. Wille rolled over and burrowed deeper under the quilted comforter and pulled his knees up to his chest, trying fruitlessly to concentrate his body heat to stay warm.
They rarely kept the temperature in the house above 18 degrees in the winter to keep the cost of the monthly bills down, and normally it wasn't a problem. Normally, Simon drank spruce tea in bed as he wrote with the orange glow of the lamp on before he lay in beside Wille and curled up close to him, tugging him in to his own body by the hips and nestling his nose into the nape of Wille's neck. Normally, Simon kept his body close and left his hands pressed all over Wille. He kept Wille warm.
But this last week, Simon had been in New York working with one of the artists he was producing for, and so Wille had gone to bed alone each night. He tried to make spruce tea to warm his fingers and to make the room smell like Simon, but he didn't like the taste and it wasn't really the same anyway, so he'd given up after the third night. He'd bundled himself in a hoodie and huddled into bed and tried not to think about how much larger the bed was without Simon in it.
Needless to say, he hadn't been getting much sleep.
Wille shifted restlessly in bed. The collar of his hoodie was too thick, felt too tight. He grasped at it and tried to pull it away from his skin, but the effort was fruitless. Wille groaned and tried to bury his head in his pillow to drown out the sensation of the too bulky sweatshirt on his body.
Unwanted tears pressed behind Wille's eyelids. He missed Simon, and he hated being cold, and he didn't understand why he couldn't fucking handle a hoodie of all things.
His fingers ached with cold, but when he tried to pull his sleeves down over his hands, the fabric ended up getting twisted around his wrists which sent him into another bout of frustrated groaning and a few loose tears. Wille ripped the hoodie off over his head and threw it across the room, his skin itching from the feel of the fabric.
He sighed and resigned himself to another cold, sleepless night.
He'd just fallen into an uneasy doze when he heard a light scratching at the apartment door. Wille's eyes flicked open, and he lay still for a breathless moment before he heard a distinctive jingling of keys and the lock turning through the door.
It wasn't until the bedroom door creaked open and Simon slid through, carefully closing the door behind him and tiptoeing across the hardwood floor, that Wille let himself believe that his fiancé was home.
He sat up, shivering as the covers fell down his body, and blinked blearily in the darkness.
"Simon?" he croaked out.
Simon's head snapped up, and his shoulders relaxed as he realized Wille was awake.
"Hi, honey," he whispered, kicking off his shoes and sitting on the edge of the bed. He reached out a hand, and Wille crawled to him immediately, wrapping himself around Simon's warm, warm back and hugging him close.
"What are you doing up?" Simon murmured, leaning back into Wille and smoothing his hands over Wille's where they rested over his stomach.
Wille hummed and said, "Couldn't sleep. Too cold."
Simon slowly unravelled himself from Wille and stood, pulling off his clothes quickly before rejoining Wille on the bed in just his boxers. He clambered into Wille's lap and smoothed his hands back through his hair. His skin was so warm, and Wille couldn't help himself from grabbing Simon and holding him as tight as he could, trying to soak in all the heat and the familiar Simon smell from his skin.
"Missed you," Wille said into Simon's neck.
"I missed you too," Simon said, pressing his smile into the side of Wille's head. "Sleep now?"
Wille nodded and laid back down, taking Simon with him and immediately curling up into his side. Simon laid his palms flat over Wille's ribs and firmly rolled him over to face the other way. Wille let out a small noise of displeasure, but it was quickly soothed away when Simon pressed himself close against Wille's back and twined his arm around his body, hauling him in and holding him tight and dear.
Wille exhaled slowly and let himself seep back into Simon's body, finally warm.
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allgoodnamesrgoneee · 3 days ago
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hi! i love your work so so much! i have a request for you, i know it takes you a lot of time to get thru your requests but i hope you will see this soon ❤️
would you be able to do one when reader is in an abusive relationship and kylian is her friend and they have been in love since they were kids but couldn’t find a way to work it out somehow so she dates someone else who’s absolutely awful and kylian is worried and protective? happy ending please haha
thank you in advance and i so look forward to what you do with my request i have a feeling it will another masterpiece 😍😍😍
Hi! Hope your having a great day.
I really liked this request, and I got so much inspiration, I started writing immediately. I hope you like it.
Don't forget my Patreon is now available for $3 for the month of December; don't miss your chance to catch up on all the exclusive content before the month ends!
Safe Haven
Masterlist
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𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — The one where he saves you.
𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — Kylian Mbappé x You
𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 4.3k
Warnings! ANGST!! protective!Kylian, you have a shit boyfriend, TRIGGER WARNING!! Abuse, domestic violence, FLUFF! Kylian is your guardian angel,
The café hummed with soft chatter and the rhythmic clink of ceramic mugs, a cozy soundtrack that usually invited comfort.
But Kylian barely noticed.
His attention was on you, sitting across the table, absently stirring your coffee as if lost in thought—or avoiding it altogether.
His sharp gaze caught the faint bruises peeking out from beneath the sleeve of your sweater, their mottled edges just visible under the soft café light. He clenched his jaw, biting back the wave of anger and helplessness that surged within him.
He knew better than to mention them directly—he’d tried before, only for you to shut him down.
“How’s work?” he asked, his voice deceptively light, masking the feelings that were brewing inside him.
You looked up, forcing a smile that didn’t reach your eyes. “Busy, as usual. But good.”
He nodded, even though the lie tasted bitter.
You were thinner than you’d been the last time he saw you, the shadows under your eyes darker. The spark—the vibrant, carefree energy that you used to be—felt like a distant memory.
He couldn’t recall the last time you laughed uncontrollably, the way you used to when you were kids, running barefoot through the fields, teasing him mercilessly about his attempst at a backflip.
That version of you felt like someone from another life, a ghost he couldn’t reach no matter how hard he tried.
Kylian had given you so much space over the last few months, trying not to push you into discussing something you weren’t ready to. But he couldn’t stop himself from wondering what he could have done differently—if he’d spoken up sooner, if he’d been stronger or braver—would you be with him instead of the man you now called your boyfriend?
You didn’t tell him about it, but he knew.
How could he not?
“Kylian.” His name was a whisper on your lips.
He snapped out of his thoughts, looking up to meet your gaze. “Yeah?” he answered, voice hoarse.
“Are you okay?” you asked, brow furrowing.
Kylian was caught off-guard. “I—yeah, I’m fine. Just tired,” he said, rubbing a hand over his eyes. He felt his heart clench at the look on your face. So worried about him. It should be him worried about you not the other way around.
Kylian swallowed down the lump in his throat, his gaze dropping to your hand, your delicate fingers still wrapped around your coffee cup. He’d always liked your hands—had even sketched them once, during a boring math class when he was younger. Not that they looked the best.
Now, he couldn’t help but notice the way they were shaking, the tremors almost invisible.
“Hey, you don’t have to stay.” He cleared his throat. “If you’re tired—”
“No, I mean, it’s fine. I have a few minutes.” You shrugged.
“I understand. I’m probably taking up too much of your time anyway,” he said, forcing himself to smile.
Your brow furrowed. “No, that’s not—”
The door to the café jingled, and Kylian didn’t miss the way your shoulders tensed at the sound. His stomach sank, a cold dread settling over him. He didn’t need to turn around to know what—or rather, who—had caused it.
“Hey, babe. You’re late,” a voice cut through the warm buzz of the café, gruff and sharp.
Kylian’s chest tightened as Adrien approached the table, clenching his fist under the table. You flinched, muttering a quiet, “Sorry, Adrien,” your voice barely audible over the blood pounding in Kylian’s ears.
Adrien’s hand landed on your shoulder, his grip firm, possessive, and entirely too telling. Kylian’s eyes narrowed as he caught the flicker of pain in your expression, the way you recoiled ever so slightly. Adrien turned his gaze to Kylian, his eyes cold, daring him to intervene.
“Time to go,” Adrien said curtly, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Kylian’s chair scraped loudly against the floor as he stood, the sound cutting through the air like a challenge. “She’s not ready yet,” he said evenly, his voice steady, though his fists clenched at his sides.
Adrien straightened, towering over him, but Kylian didn’t waver. The protective instinct roaring to life inside him drowned out the rational voice warning him to tread carefully. He’d spent too many nights wondering if he should’ve done more, said more, instead of tiptoeing around the cracks in your life, afraid of making things worse.
“Kylian, it's fine,” you said hurriedly, standing and grabbing your bag. Your words were meant to soothe, but your tone betrayed you. It wasn’t fine. Not the way your hands trembled as you slung the bag over your shoulder. Not the fear flickering in your eyes as Adrien’s shadow loomed over you.
And certainly not when Kylian remembered the late-night calls, your voice breaking as you insisted everything was okay while your silence screamed the opposite.
He reached out, hand brushing your arm, trying to reassure you. “Are you sure, Y/N—” he started, his voice catching as Adrien interrupted, his hand tightening around your wrist.
“Yeah, we’ve gotta get going. Nice to see you, Kylian.” Adrien’s words dripped with sarcasm, his eyes glacial.
You murmured something indistinguishable as Adrien dragged you away, leaving Kylian with nothing but a heavy feeling and a cold cup of coffee. He watched you disappear out the door, the memory of your haunted eyes searing a hole through his chest.
That night, Kylian sat perched on the edge of his bed, his phone resting heavily in his hands. The glow of the screen illuminated his face in the dark, but it was the storm in his heart that truly kept him awake.
He couldn’t bear it anymore.
Watching you crumble under the weight of someone else’s cruelty was killing him slowly. You deserved better—so much better than what life had handed you. You deserved love, the kind he’d always wanted to give you, but he’d been too much of a coward to fight for it when it mattered most.
His thumb hovered over your name in his contacts, trembling with indecision. Minutes bled into each other as he stared at the screen, lost in a sea of regrets and what-ifs. What if you didn’t want to hear from him? What if it was already too late?
The sharp, shrill sound of his ringtone sliced through the silence of his room, startling him so violently that his phone nearly slipped from his grasp. His heart leapt into his throat as he scrambled to pick up the call.
“Y/N,” he whispered, your name escaping his lips like a prayer. His heart pounded with a rhythm that threatened to drown out every other sound.
“Kylian…” Your voice cracked through the line, so soft, so fragile, that he almost didn’t recognize it. Your tone made his stomach twist with dread.
“Hey,” he said, forcing a calmness he didn’t feel, his voice catching as he heard your faint, uneven breathing. It only took a second before he picked up on the muffled sobs in the background. Whatever composure he’d been clinging to shattered in an instant.
“Help me, Kylian,” you whimpered, the sound hitting him like a dagger to the chest. “I can’t—I can’t move.”
His blood ran cold, fear clawing its way through him. “Y/N, what’s happening?” he demanded, panic creeping into his voice despite his best efforts. He shot up from his bed, fumbling to pull on a pair of jeans.
“I’m… I’m in the bathroom,” you managed between sobs, each word cutting through him like shards of glass. “Adrien—he was so angry—he hurt me, Kylian. I—I didn’t know what to do…” Your voice broke entirely, dissolving into gut-wrenching cries.
Kylian froze, his mind struggling to process what you’d just said. He’d never heard you sound so broken, so utterly defeated. It tore at his very soul.
“Okay, listen to me. Don’t move, alright?” he said firmly, pulling on a sweatshirt with trembling hands. “I’m coming to you. Right now.”
“Please, Kylian, don’t let him get to me.” Your voice cracked, raw with desperation. “I’m so scared…”
He could feel his heart splintering with every word you uttered, but he forced himself to stay strong—for you. Grabbing his keys, he bolted out of his apartment, already dialing 911 with shaking fingers as he sprinted toward the front door of his building.
"I’m coming, Y/N,” he whispered, the vow burning in his chest. “I won’t let him hurt you again.” He spoke the words, but he wasn’t sure if you were even still on the line to hear them. “Y/N? Y/N!!? Answer me!”
No answer.
He didn’t even realize he was crying until he saw the tears drip down his face. He was halfway to your place when the operator picked up, his words tumbling out in a disjointed, panicked mess.
“He’s going to hurt her. Please, you have to help us. I don’t know what he’s going to do. I can’t lose her,” he cried, the last word cracking in his throat.
The operator tried to keep him talking, but Kylian was too far gone to focus on anything but your broken sobs still echoing through his phone. The sound was forever seared into his head, haunting him as he drove.
By the time he arrived at your apartment, he’d convinced himself of the worst. Every nightmare he’d been trying to suppress had come alive in his mind, clawing at his sanity and leaving him raw with terror.
His heart thundered wildly, a beat of dread that pounded louder with every frantic step up the stairs. He barely registered the ache in his legs or the burning in his lungs. All that mattered was getting to you.
When he reached your door, there was no hesitation. The wood splintered under the force of his kick, the loud crack echoing through the apartment. He froze for a split second, his heart lurching in his chest as his eyes found Adrien standing in the kitchen.
Adrien turned at the noise, his lips curling into a cruel, mocking smile that made Kylian’s blood boil.
A storm of rage surged inside him, hot and blinding, coursing through his veins with a fury he’d never known. Every thought, every ounce of logic, every shred of restraint burned away, leaving nothing but raw, unrelenting anger. Without a second thought, he lunged forward, his body moving before his mind could catch up.
Kylian didn’t care about the consequences.
He didn’t care about the destruction he was about to cause. There was no room for anything but the white-hot need to make Adrien pay. His fist connected with Adrien’s jaw, the sickening crack reverberating through the room. He barely felt the pain in his knuckles as Adrien staggered backward, already crumpling before Kylian tackled him to the ground.
The two of them slammed into the kitchen table, the force of the collision shattering it beneath their weight. Adrien’s curses filled the air, but Kylian barely heard them. His vision was a blur of red, his world reduced to the satisfying sound of his fists meeting Adrien’s face. Blow after blow, he poured every ounce of his fury into the man beneath him.
It ended as abruptly as it had started. Adrien lay on the floor, curled into himself, his hands clutching his broken jaw as he whimpered in pain. Kylian stood above him, chest heaving, his fists trembling and smeared with blood—his own, Adrien’s, he couldn’t tell.
“Kylian.”
Your voice. Soft, broken, barely audible, but it cut through the fog like a blade. He turned, his breath hitching as his eyes found you.
You were huddled on the bathroom floor, your body limp and trembling, your face streaked with tears. Bruises marred your arms and neck, vivid against your skin, and the sight of them made something inside him shatter. There was blood—so much blood—and the sight of it made his stomach twist painfully.
As he approached, you whispered something, your voice trembling, but the words were lost to him. All he could focus on was the fear in your eyes, the pain etched into your expression. His knees hit the tiled floor as he knelt beside you, his hands hovering uncertainly before he gently pulled you into his arms.
You flinched at the contact, a broken sob escaping your lips as you collapsed against him. Your body shook violently, every tremor a testament to the horror you’d endured. Kylian held you close, his arms tightening around you protectively, as if his embrace alone could shield you from the world.
He didn’t speak; there were no words for this. Instead, he buried his face in your hair, his breath ragged as he fought back the tears burning in his eyes. His hands trembled as they stroked your hair, his touch as gentle as he could make it. Your cries filled the small bathroom, echoing off the walls and breaking his heart anew with every sound.
He held you, rocking you gently, his own breaths hitching as he whispered silent promises into the air. You were safe now. You were in his arms, and he wouldn’t let anything—or anyone—hurt you again.
Not while he lived.
When the police and paramedics finally arrived, Kylian refused to let you go, even as they gently coaxed him to give you over to them. He couldn’t let you be taken from him again. You were his to protect now, and he would spend the rest of his life fighting for your safety.
The ride to the hospital was a blur of noise and color, the sounds of the sirens and the flashing lights mingling to consume him whole. But none of it mattered. Not as long as you were safe in his arms.
When they finally arrived at the hospital, Kylian stayed at your side, his fingers laced tightly with yours, feeling as though letting go might mean losing you. His grip was firm, almost desperate, and the silent promise in his eyes—I’m here, I’m not leaving—was unshakable.
Even when the nurses and doctors ushered him away, insisting they needed to examine you in private, he stood frozen for a moment, his hand hovering in the air where yours had been. Then, reluctantly, he stepped back, the ache in his chest growing heavier with each step that took him further from you.
Outside the door, the minutes dragged, each tick of the clock hammering against his already raw nerves.
He paced the narrow corridor, his footsteps echoing in the quiet, sterile hallway. His gaze never strayed from the closed door, the sight of it both a barrier and a lifeline.
Inside, you were there—hurt, vulnerable, but there. His fists clenched at his sides, nails digging into his palms as anger and fear collided within him, swirling a storm in his stomach.
He wanted to be strong for you, but the truth was, he was terrified. All he wanted, all he needed, was to hold you in his arms again, to feel your warmth against him, to reassure himself that you were still here, still breathing.
The moment the door opened, Kylian was on his feet, the chair he had been sitting in scraping loudly against the floor as he sprang up.
His heart leaped into his throat at the sight of you being wheeled out, your small frame seeming even smaller against the stark white sheets of the hospital bed. Your face was limp, twisting a knife in his chest.
For a second, he couldn’t move, frozen by the sheer weight of the fear he’d been holding back. But then, the tears came, hot and unrelenting, slipping down his face as he stepped forward and gently took your hand.
Your skin was cold, far too cold, and the sob he had been swallowing threatened to break free. He tightened his grip on your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles, as if the simple gesture might anchor you—and him—to something solid.
He tried, tried so hard, to hold himself together for you, but the tears wouldn’t stop. Silent at first, then heavier, until they dripped onto the blanket covering you.
Without hesitation, Kylian climbed onto the narrow hospital bed beside you. He moved carefully, afraid that any sudden movement might hurt you, but his need to be close to you overrode every other thought.
He slipped an arm around you, cradling your fragile body against his own, and pressed his face into your shoulder. The faint scent of lavender and vanilla, though dulled by the sharp tang of antiseptic, wafted his senses, soothing him instantly.
He laid his head against your chest, his ear pressed to the place where your heartbeat was steady and strong. That sound—it was everything. It was life, it was hope, it was you. His arms tightened around you as though he could shield you from the world.
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, he felt his lungs expand fully, his breath coming easier. You were here. You were okay. The crushing weight of fear that had threatened to break him all night began to lift.
He kissed your temple, his lips lingering there as he whispered into the quiet, “I won’t fail you again. Never again.” His voice was hoarse, thick with emotion, but there was no wavering in his promise. Whatever it took, whatever he had to do, he would keep you safe.
As your breathing slowed, your chest rising and falling with a soothing rhythm, it lulled him into a peace he hadn’t known in days. The tension in his body eased, and his eyelids grew heavy.
There, with you in his arms, he allowed himself to drift into sleep, deep and restful, knowing that for now, in this moment, everything was right again.
You were safe. And that was all that mattered.
You woke to the sound of beeping, the muted murmur of hospital chatter bleeding through the closed door, and the feeling of warmth against your body.
Your eyelids fluttered open, your gaze focusing slowly on the unfamiliar ceiling above you.
For a moment, you forgot where you were, disoriented by the sterile smell and the harsh overhead light filtering in through the window blinds. Your body ached, every muscle protesting as you shifted slightly, and then you felt it—a warm weight draped across you.
Kylian.
He was curled against you on the narrow bed, his arms wrapped around you as if even in sleep, he couldn’t let go. His head rested on your shoulder, his breath soft and even against your skin.
The sight of him broke something in you.
Tears welled up in your eyes as the memories of the night before crashed down on you like a tidal wave. Adrien’s fury, the pain, the fear that had gripped you so tightly it was hard to breathe—and then Kylian, bursting through the door like a storm.
He had come for you. He had saved you.
You reached up with trembling fingers, brushing them gently against his cheek where a bruise was slightly formed. The motion made him stir, his brow furrowing before his eyes fluttered open. For a moment, he looked confused, his gaze darting around the room until it settled on you.
“Y/N,” he breathed, his voice thick with sleep. Relief flooded his features, and he sat up slightly, his hand instinctively reaching out to cup your face gently. Always gently.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, his thumb brushing away a tear that had slipped down your cheek. His eyes searched yours, dark and filled with so much concern it made your chest tighten.
You tried to speak, but your throat felt raw, your words catching. All you could do was nod, tears spilling freely now as the enormity of everything hit you.
“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, your voice barely audible from how dry your throat was. “For everything—for dragging you into this, for—”
“Hey, no,” he interrupted firmly, his hand shifting to cradle the back of your head. “Don’t. Don’t apologize. None of this is your fault, Y/N. You hear me? None of it.”
His words were steady, unwavering, and you believed him because you wanted to. You wanted to believe that maybe, just maybe, you weren’t as broken as you felt.
“I was so scared,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “I thought—I thought I wouldn’t make it. And then you—”
“I’ll always come for you,” he said, his voice breaking slightly. “No matter what, no matter when. I’ll always be there.”
His words wrapped around you like a blanket, warm and comforting, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you felt safe.
You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes as his forehead pressed gently against yours. The world outside could wait. For now, in this quiet, sterile hospital room, all that mattered was the warmth of his skin against yours and the safety of his arms.
“Thank you,” you whispered into the space between them. “Thank you for saving me.” You felt his body tense against yours before he gathered you into his arms again.
“You’re safe now,” he murmured, his words a quiet promise. “You’re safe, Y/N.” His voice rumbled against you, vibrating in his chest beneath your cheek.
For the first time since you could remember, you truly believed that. You were safe. And it felt wonderful.
Weeks passed, and with them, healing.
You spent the first two in the hospital, but by the third, you were well enough to be discharged.
Kylian never left your side. He pushed your wheelchair down the hospital corridor, refusing to let anyone else take his place. It was his right, his privilege, he said. And you let him.
When you were finally cleared to go home, he drove you to his apartment. You didn’t argue; you didn’t need to. It was quiet there, peaceful, with him always nearby.
At first, you were hesitant to take up space in his life, but Kylian left no room for doubt.
He cooked for you, and insisted on carrying you to the couch when you were too weak to walk. He never pushed you to talk, but his presence said everything: I’m here. You’re not alone. It was a comfort, a shelter, that you’d needed for so long.
One evening, as you were lying on his couch, cocooned in a blanket, he sat beside you, a cautious distance away. He took a deep breath, his eyes clouding with something you couldn’t quite name. You could see his thoughts playing out across his features as he struggled to find the right words.
"I'm sorry." The soft glow of the lamp casts shadows across his face, but his eyes remain steady on yours. “I should’ve done something sooner,” he says, his voice thick with guilt. “I saw what was happening, but I was too afraid. Afraid of losing you… even though I never really had you.”
His confession startles you. You sit up slowly, wincing at the lingering pain in your ribs. “Kylian, it’s not your fault,” you whisper. “You didn’t hurt me. He did.”
“But I let it happen,” he counters, his jaw tightening. “I—” He cuts himself off, running a hand over his coils. “I should’ve told you how I felt. Maybe then you would’ve been with me instead of him.”
Your breath catches. How he felt? The room feels suddenly too small, too quiet. “How you felt?” you echo, your voice barely audible.
Kylian hesitates, his vulnerability laid bare. “How I feel,” he corrects, his gaze searching yours. “I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember. Watching you with him—it tore me apart. But I didn’t think I was good enough for you.”
Tears well in your eyes, not from pain but from the overwhelming realization of what Kylian has done for you—what he’s always done for you. “You are good enough,” you say, your voice trembling. “You’re more than enough, Kylian. You saved me. You’ve always been there, even when I didn’t know I needed you.”
Before you can second-guess yourself, you reach out, your fingers brushing his. His hand is warm, grounding, as he laces his fingers through yours. His breath hitches, and for a moment, neither of you speaks.
“I don’t deserve you,” he whispers. “But I won’t let anyone hurt you again. I should’ve been brave enough before, but I won’t waste any more time.”
His words are a promise, a vow. It takes your breath away.
You meet his gaze, your heart pounding in your chest. You don’t look away. “I'm not ready to open my heart again. I-I can't.” you admit, your voice trembling but resolute.
Kylian’s expression softens, the tension in his jaw easing as he takes in your words. His thumb gently grazes the back of your hand, a quiet reassurance. “I’ll wait,” he says simply, his voice steady. “For as long as it takes. I’m not going anywhere.”
The sincerity in his words lights up your soul, and for the first time in what feels like forever, the weight pressing down on you feels a little lighter. You lean back, settling into the cushions again, and Kylian adjusts, staying close without crowding you.
For a while, the two of you sit in silence, comfortable silence.
“Kylian?” you murmur after a while, your eyes drifting to the ceiling.
“Yeah?” His voice is quiet, almost hesitant, like he’s afraid to disturb the fragile peace between you.
“Thank you,” you say, glancing at him, your lips curving into a faint smile. “For everything.”
He doesn’t reply immediately, his gaze searching yours as if committing this moment to memory. Then, he nods, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Always,” he says, and you know he means it.
For the first time in years, you believe that you will be safe—that you will be more than safe. You will be loved.
-Bianca🌻
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dansroo · 10 hours ago
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Don't get angry with him, he was patient enough. :(
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content; Jayce Talis x reader. nsfw. blowjob under a desk. male! reader. needy! jayce. light overstimulation. mention of body fluids. established relationship. Jayce loving everything about you. they are not in a public place as such, but it is not the right place to do that kind of stuff. word count: 5.2k
a/n; he's so stupid, I love him, ugh. english is not my first language so I apologize in advance for any grammatical error !
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.
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You swallowed saliva with difficulty, unable to avoid letting out a trembling gasp as you tried to maintain your sanity and continue working with what you had in front of you. But you reached a point where what you were supposed to do had been lost along with the rest of the coherent thoughts that resided in your now blurred mind. The tool you held in your hand slipped, making a loud — sharp noise upon contact with the surface of the desk.
You bit the back of your hand in a failed attempt to muffle your moans. For God's sake, you could hear the lustful sounds that Jayce's mouth made while eating you under the desk.
The plans and annotations in front of you began to become less readable; you were fighting against the impulse to succumb. You couldn't let him get away with it and give him, on a golden platter, what he wanted.
His big hands wrapped almost completely around your thighs while his face was buried between them, taking you completely at a desperate rhythm. He knew that this was the least suitable time and place to do something like that, but he was starved; he needed you, and he was sure you would understand, right?
You felt a chill invading your whole body, along with a wave of pleasure that wrapped your stomach. Your legs felt weak, and you had the desire to grind your hips against his pretty face. You whined, clinging with one of your hands to the edge of the desk.
It wasn't his fault, of course not. No one ask you to look so good while you were working.
“No distractions, got it.”
Well, it could probably be just a little his fault.
But he truly made every effort to listen to you, to be attentive to every word you said, but he couldn't help it. Not with you looking so handsome in front of him. All he could focus on was the way your lips moved as you spoke, the way you bit your lip in thought, the way you had your sleeves rolled up and your hair was slightly tousled. The smudge of grease on your face, he find it strangely endearing. You were so invested in your work, so dedicated and passionate. It was... kind of hot.
God, he really loves you so much.
He lost count of all the times he moved around the room, trying to distract himself with anything other than you. Swallowing nervously, waited for you to realize what he wanted — that he wanted you — but that was impossible. You weren't paying attention to him, and he didn't dare tell you anything because he was embarrassed enough to open his mouth — but not enough to get between your legs. You made him feel like a damn teenager in love, and he had to admit that deep down, he liked it.
A moan choked at the back of your throat, eyes rolling back as your fingers tangled in your hair, combing it back. You sighed tremulously, feeling your hips contract with the effort you were making for not to cum. You almost did when Jayce pushed your length all the way down his throat, with a hand gripping you firmly by the waist. He knew what he was doing.
“S-Shit!” you whimper loudly, unintentionally throwing the objects near you to the floor with your arms. You couldn't see him, but you knew he was smiling right now.
He really tried to push those thoughts away, but they just kept creeping back into his mind. He tried to focus on his own work, but his mind kept wandering back to you. You caught his gaze a few times, giving him a quizzical look, but he quickly glanced away; pretending to be focused on the tool he was holding. He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks, and he knew he was probably blushing like an idiot.
He found himself stealing glances at you whenever he thought you weren't looking. Every so often, he'd catch a flash of that beautiful smile, and it would make his heart flutter all over again. He watched the way your fingers moved with such practiced precision — oh your beautiful hands, he couldn't wait to feel them on every corner of his body; just like your magnificent and pretty fingers, which were not only agile to create things.
You two had been working for hours and he had kept his patience as much as he could, but he couldn't keep waiting. You wouldn't blame him, would you?
“Jayce…”
“Mhm?”
The vibration of his throat caused you an involuntary moan. You cursed in low, tilting your head lower, peeking between the edge of the desk and your body to look at him kneeling in front of you. Your cock was still between his lips, with a mixture of his saliva and your fluids dripping from the corners. He looked at you attentively, with dilated pupils, observing your face. His hair was a mess, but it still looked cute as always.
“Stop, this… this is not the-!” He stopped you, sucking your tip and stealing a hoarse moan in the process. You bit your lip, watching his pretty mouth move up and down for your entire length. It was much better to see it than just to feel it.
You rested your back against the chair, bringing your hand to his hair; where your fingers tangled between his brown locks. Your legs opened more for him, being the only sign he needed to realize that he had obtained what he wanted.
He didn't take his eyes off you for the rest of the night; he wanted to make sure he remembered this moment well, capturing every expression on your face and the sound of your voice.
And don’t worry, you will make sure to collect your debt later.
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© dansroo.2024. If by pure chance you recognize me, hi again! ;) I'm so sorry for deleted my account without giving explanations, I had some personal problems, really sorry.
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stayevildarling · 2 days ago
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hello x could u write a Cordelia, Wilhemina, Billie and reader fic where they celebrate Christmas together 🥹 I don't think anyone's written it before and it would be so cute to see!!😍
Cordelia Goode x Wilhemina Venable x Billie Dean Howard x Reader- So this is Christmas
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A/N: Merry Christmas everyone 🎄
tw/tags: established relationship, pure fluff, very slight nfsw mention at the end (no smut)
word count: 2k
taglist:
@lunaticwhittaker , @billiebeanhoward , @lanawinters-ily , @kenzbro , @minaslittleone , @httpfiftyshadesofgay @whitelotus00 , @ninaahelvar , @paulsonsratched , @vintagepaulson , @isle-of-earle , @grilledcheeseandguavajelly , @lucyintheskywithxanax , @fanfics4world , @mymiraclewitch , @hazard-to-myself , @awritersometimes , @wastdstime , @p1pecleanerwitheyes , @queen2234 , @ihartnat , @lifebyinez , @ahsatanizgay , @blu3dimples , @stepintomyworld
The academy had been silent in a way that it hadn‘t been in years. There was no giggling, no screaming witches as they raced through the hallway, moments later told off by the supreme for doing so. This was the first time all the witches went back to their families for the holidays, the supreme having worked closely with the parents of her witches and playing a big part in restoring some of their relationships, a matter that had been close to her heart for years.
As you stand in the livingroom, you watch as Cordelia sits cross legged on the plush rug in front of the fireplace, carefully arranging garlands. The flames cast a glow across her features and for a second your heart swells at how truly beautiful the supreme really was, perfect skin, hair looking as thick and full as ever and those eyes you had been getting lost in for years. Billie sits on the couch behind her, leaning against the armrest with one leg curled beneath her as she shuffles through a playlist, trying to find the perfect christmas song to set the mood.
Wilhemina was still in the kitchen, opting to prepare some hot chocolates instead of the usual tea she would make for you four. The scent of the cookies Cordelia had baked with you before linger in the air, making the moment even sweeter. „Are you just going to stand there sweetie? or are you going to help me hang this?“ Cordelia smirks, her voice pulling you back to the present. She holds up a strand of fairy lights for the tree, her eyebrow raised a little, almost as if she enjoyed watching you so spaced out for a moment. You take a step forward, brushing a kiss against her temple as you reach for the other end of the string.
„Sorry Delia, got lost in the moment“ you mumble before Billie chuckles lowly. „And what a moment it is“ she begins, not looking up from her phone as she shuffles through more songs. „The great Cordelia Goode, supreme of all witches, untangling Christmas lights like a mortal“. You try your best to bite down the laughter that is threatening to escape you as Wilhemina walks in chuckling. „Careful Billie“ Mina speaks as she balances a tray of hot chocolates „She might enchant you into doing it next“.
The blonde rolls her eyes, her smile softening as she glances at you, looking so content and happy. The two of you work together to fix the lights, wrapping them around the tree with ease and by the time you plug them in, the lights cast an etherl glow over the room, making you gasp a little. Billie sets her phone down as you and Cordelia join them on the sofa, finally having found a song she can agree with. And as the song plays softly in the background, Cordelia begins passing the hot chocolate, smirking at the way Mina had decorated them, enough cream and marshmallows to last the night. Mina was never usually one for holidays but the supreme knew how much she secretly loved Christmas.
The four of you tangle up in each other as snow begins falling outside, Billie‘s arms wrapped over your shoulder, her fingers tracing circles against your sleeve. Mina sits beside you, leaning into you as she sips on her hot chocolate, Cordelia watching the scene with a teary smile, grateful for the quiet of this christmas and spending it in each other‘s arms. „Do you think they are all having a nice Christmas as we are?“ you speak, thinking about the other witches before Cordelia glances at you „I hope so“ she nods before she smiles „But honestly, I wouldn‘t trade this for anything“.
The evening ended with a lovely christmas dinner that Cordelia and you had prepared earlier on, giggling and smiling as the four of you talked about nothing at all and everything at once, drinking some wine while listening to christmas songs and ending the night in the arms of each other. That night the four of you fell asleep with smiles on each other‘s faces, neither of you wanting to spend the holidays another way ever again. And by the time the next morning came around, you were the first one to race downstairs, carefully placing the presents you had gotten for your girlfriends under the tree and gasping a little as you see most of the presents already under the tree.
Your girlfriends join moments later, Wilhemina and Cordelia already awake and seeing you jolt downstairs, having to drag Billie out of bed but upon mentioning presents, she agreed. „Someone‘s excited“ Mina chuckles as she sees you standing by the three, Billie heading straight for her morning cigarette as Cordelia prepares some coffee, placing a tray of cookies she had baked the day before on the small table in the room. With a flick of her wrist she turns on the lights and lights the fireplace, making the room both comfortable and warm. As you walk to one of the large windows you see snow covering the gardens and you can‘t help but wiggle in excitement, wanting nothing more than to head out there and build a snowman.
„Alright, we ready to open presents?“ Billie chuckles as she walks inside, hair still a little messy from sleep. You nod, trying to act like you aren‘t that excited as you sit on the floor. „Who‘s first?“ Wilhemina asks and the medium is the first to get up before handing each of you a present wrapped in pink wrapping paper and rose gold ribbons. „This looks expensive Billie“ Cordelia tuts as you three begin opening. The medium pulls off her robe, exposing some christmas pj‘s before you three open the same pair and you can‘t help but pout, having wanted to keep this tradition up with them but unsure they would agree. „Of course it‘s Prada“ Wilhemina rolls her eyes with a smirk tugged on her lips. You don‘t waste any time, stripping off before putting them on, matching Billie.
Cordelia and Wilhemina exchange knowing glances before Billie walks over pressing a kiss to your temple as she sits beside you. The supreme uses the opportunity to quickly take a photo of the two of you, matching pyjamas and snuggling in front of the fireplace. The four of you had agreed on one gift only this year, not wanting to go all out there but with Billie‘s choice it already feels like she was going to win this one. Cordelia is the one to get up next, handing each of you a gift before you begin unwrapping. Billie gasps as she opens a small leather journal, her smile widening as she reads the little note, knowing how much the medium loves to scribble down her thoughts throughout the day and when filming her show. „Thank you“ she smiles warmly before wrapping her arms around the supreme.
Wilhemina‘s smile widens as she sees the vinyl of one of her favorite artists for the vinyl player she had in her office, her eyebrows furrowing when she sees the edition she had been after for ages, not understanding how the supreme would have gotten her hands on it. The redheads eyes meet the blonde, their eyes communicating in silence as Wilhemina mouths a quiet thank you and Cordelia nods with a warm smile. By the time you open yours, you open the little box, exposing a beautiful bracelet with several charms. Your eyes begin sparkling as you realize what the little charms represent. A star for when the two of you went stargazing before, a little book representing you and Mina always hiding away in the library and many more reminding you of the memories you had made over the years.
As soon as the tears fall, the supreme is quick to get up, sitting beside you as she pulls you in for a hug. „You like it sweetie?“ she asks and you nod as she wipes your tears. „Thank you Delia“ you smile before the four of you sit there for a moment, enjoing the joy and intimacy of the moment. The four of you decide to take a break as you admire your new gifts, Cordelia and Wilhemina having by now changed into their pyjamas and you had successfully convinced them to take some photos together. You sip on some more hot chocolate while Billie stuffs her mouth in cookies before you carry on. Mina‘s presents are equally filled with grace and meaning as Billie unwraps a scarf in baby pink colours from her favorite designer brand, Cordelia unwrapping a beautiful ornament for the tree representing the academy and you open the most beautiful pendant, exposing a photo of the four of you inside as she helps you put it on.
At last it is your turn and you almost buzz in excitement as you pass them their gifts, Billie‘s carefully wrapped in baby pink wrapping paper, Cordelia‘s in a beautiful shape of yellow and Wilhemina‘s in a soft lilac. „Um so why is mine so tiny?“ Billie complains as she sees the rather large boxes that both the supreme and redhead have. „Quit whining Howard“ Wilhemina chuckles which causes Billie to roll her eyes but silence fills the room as she opens a pair of her favorite earrings, ones she had ever since she was in her early twenties, vintage at this point and unfortunately losing them while filming this year. She gasps before she walks over to you „How the hell did you find them?“ she asks and you simply shrug, not wanting her to know how much effort you went through to get them for her again „Thank you so much babydoll“ she shrieks before squeezing you in her arms so tight that the ability to breathe leaves you a minute.
„What is this sweetie?“ Cordelia asks as she unwraps a rather large portray. Billie smiles in your arms, awaiting the blonde‘s reaction, the medium having helped you with this one. The supreme‘s eyes fill with tears as she sees the portray of herself and all her witches, glancing at the walls that had been filled with old supreme‘s including her mother. She doesn‘t have words, the gesture too meaningful as she hangs it up with ease, patting her lap as she sits down again and admires the view of the painting above the fireplace, her steady arms around you and the sparkle in her eyes enough of a thank you. At last there is Wilhemina, who is opening the large box in confusion before she pulls out a cane, beautifully carved and the handle a small bird and she bites down on her lip, being able to see in your eyes that you knew her cane had been giving her problems lately. Cordelia knew, unsure at first how the redhead may react.
And it was true, the woman didn‘t know how to react at first, staring blanky at the cane before some tears well in her eyes how thoughtful you all always are when it comes to her condition and how you had never made her feel like a burden once. When her hand finds yours, her eyes are teary and your other two girlfriends watch the exchange with a bittersweet smile. „Thank you little one“ she cries and you are quick to wipe her tears and she leans into you. The four of you stay in each other‘s embraces for a while, thanking each other quietly for the gifts you had exhanged.
Eventually, the medium steals away for a cigarette and by the time she returns you chuckle, seeing how her coat and hair is filled with little snowflakes. „Can we please build a snowman?“ you ask Cordelia as she chuckles before Billie clears her throat. „Well we can do that of course but..“ she begins, a faint smirk tugging on her lips. „There is of course this last surprise“ she begins and your eyes travel to her hand as she pulls down her top a little, exposing a red sparkly lingerie set. „Its totally up to you three“ she smirks and you stare at your other two girlfriends, Wilhemina chuckling lowly as you are already on your way, your other two girlfriends following you both towards the bedroom.
And it is safe to say, neither of you wanted to spend another christmas without each other or a coven full of witches ever again.
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snowblossomreads · 2 days ago
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Day 22- Shivering Certainty
Pairing(s)/Character(s): The Interrogator x Fem!Reader
Summary: In where the Interrogator acts on the solution he has given his prisoner. Continuation of Day 14 - Deceptive Kindness
Tag(s)/Warning(s): Smut ( Restraints, oral - fem receiving, overstimulation, coersion/dub con, electric play, begging, 'no means yes'), abuse of power, slut shaming
A/N: I hope ya'll didn't think there wasn't going to be a part two to this because why would their not be LOL. This man is uhinged and we need a little bit of something from him of course. : ) Be free my friends and enjoy the teasing from this man.
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When she had agreed to play his little game, she didn't think she would end up like this. Spread eagle on the table that had been extended to accommodate her height, and then cuffed down onto it by hidden manacles that came with the piece of furniture. Granted it was more like a piece of equipment than furniture.
Not only that, but he then pulled out an interesting little device that had two wires extending from a black box. When she inquired about it, he told her not to worry too much about it. That it was just something he thought she might enjoy as he set it up, placing the box on the table by her legs.
Once he had set it up, she felt his hand roaming all over her thighs, stroking up her legs until he reached her bare cunt. A soft whimper left her lips as she felt him attach something sticky to each side of her folds. And instead of questioning him, she just kept silent, letting him pet her. His fingers stroked the outer edges of her cunt, before he moved over to caress her wet silt that quaked at his touch. 
It wasn't the only thing that was quaking when he pulled away from her either. Her whole body was ablaze with a want and need she didn't know she had as she watched him walk back closer to the top of the table where her head lay.
She also didn't expect it to excite her so much either as she watched him slowly roll up his sleeves. Folding the pristine white fabric up his forearm methodically, one crease at a time as his eyes hovered over her body. One which was only covered with a thin baby doll dress that was now bunched up at her mid-section. It left her upper thighs, arms, and collarbone all exposed to the cold air of the room, yet she wasn't cold at all in the present moment.
Quite the opposite as she had warmed up quite quickly from the cruel words thrown at her that turned into her allowing him to…
She quickly dismissed the thought. Telling herself that it was all in the name of self-preservation.
"Now, now that's enough thinking." 
His command came in low murmur, as she felt his fingers suddenly brush against her cheek lightly. It caused her to let out a startled gasp as he trailed his digits down her face, and towards her neck where he placed his entire palm against the area before squeezing it lightly. 
A whimper, mixed with fear and something else escaped her lips at the pressure that constricted her airways slightly, and the smirk that flashed across his lips told her that he had enjoyed the sound of it.
"It's what got you into this mess in the first place."
He finished his sentence by giving her throat one more squeeze before letting go of her, and she sucked in a harsh shaky breath as he stared at her with amused eyes. His fingers continued their travel down her front, and her belly was taut with nerves as he brushed over her collarbone before gliding lightly over the stiff peaks of her breast. 
Even with the fabric covering them, his touch still shot a surge of desire through her belly as curious fingers circled lightly around the flesh, before he was pinching the pert nubs. Rolling them in his fingers, before tugging at them harshly, causing her to let out a loud squeak, her hips jolting upward slightly at the treatment.
"Oh, you like that?" He purred, noticing her reaction, and testing it again, pulling at the sensitive skin with even more force. The sound she made caused his eyes to light up like the star on a Christmas tree, and she truly wondered what she had gotten herself into. "You like pain."
It was more of a statement than a question. Yet she felt the need to shake her head.
"N-no I don't." She stuttered out, even as she tried to suppress the mew that wanted to leave her as he pinched the sensitive nub one more.
That answer seemed to dissatisfy him, and a frown appeared on his lips as he peered down at her from over his glasses. The look sent a chill of fear down her spine, and for a very good reason, as she watched him reach down the table for the device that he had placed.  
'What is he-.'
"AH!"
A sharp scream pierced the air just as a wave of electricity shot through her lower half and down her legs. The burning pain of it had her writhing away on the table as the feeling knocked the breath of her. 
"Now, now what did I say about dishonesty?" He questioned, his voice becoming hard suddenly as he turned off the machine. Her muscles instantly relaxed, and the forced contractions stopped, leaving her body tingling with pain and her mind racing. "It will get you nowhere, no matter how charming I think your lies are. Remember, I am your guide, and your only hope is through me. Now tell the truth. You like the pain don't you?"
She hesitated, watching him and when he began to move back to the device, she nodded furiously before letting out a panicked,
"Y-yes."
A groan left his lips at her answer, and the sound somehow soothed the pain he had inflicted on her. God what was wrong with her?
 "Oh you are going to be a troublesome one, but," his voice dropped almost a whole octave this time as he practically pressed his nails into her breast, causing her to let out a whine. "I know how to deal with all sorts. Your kind though? Your kind are my favorite."
Dread filled her stomach instantly at his words as he continued his travels down her body. Walking down along the edge of the table to explore her. What did he mean by that?
Her question wasn't left unanswered for long.
Once his fingers reached the edge of her dress, he trailed the ends of the fabric before sliding his palm up her thigh grabbing at the skin, pinching as much flesh as he could reach. She let out a soft whimper at the pinches, her body reacting positively to it as the urge to rub her thighs together to calm the pressure inside of her grew. Yet with her tied down basically, she could only endure this teasing while he explored her at his own pace. 
It was torture as he dragged his blunt nails against her heated skin on his way towards her cunt that was crying out for him. And she was ready to do that same thing, wanting him to touch the ache that had grown quickly in her. 
"Needy are you?" He chuckled lightly, looking at [Y/n] whose chest rose and fell erratically as his fingers finally found their way to her damp opening that throbbed the moment he brushed against it. "Already so wet. Just from a few touches and a little bit of pain. A sign of a true whore," he chuckled darkly as he began to stroke her warm flesh.
Her breath hitched at the touch, her fingers clenching and unclenching as she sighed out a moan as he touched her. And he took his time, too. Unhurried feathery strokes against her core that begged for more.
"P-please," she whimpered, her body aching for something more than the delicate strokes he was giving her.
"Oh? Does the little whore want something?" He asked, a smile on his lips, and his eyes shining with glee which was so off-putting. 
Yet her mind was too focused on the pleasure, or lack thereof to even care at this point about the name calling. He could call her whatever, but she needed more than what he was giving her and she nodded her assent. 
"No none of that," he growled, the cheerfulness in his eyes switching to darkness in a dizzyingly fast manner. And then the pain came again.
Just as fast as his emotions switched, the shock of the device pierced her once more. Her body stiffened, and a loud gasp was ripped away from her again. But before she could even realize what was happening to let out a scream, it was off again and he was speaking words that her mind was trying to wrap around.
 "Confess it with your mouth. Admit that you're just a little whore whose only crime was wanting to be fucked. Come on, the faster you do it, the more of this you'll get."
The squeal of pain she was meant to let out, morphed into one of delight the moment he said that, as he took the chance to push his fingers inside her with no warning. His thumb joined in on the teasing by rubbing her clit and sending a jolt of pleasure down her body as he teased her. It didn't last long though of course, as he stopped the moment he felt her wet hole clench around his fingers as her insides tried to suck him deeper.
It caused a desperate whine to leave her and he only chuckled his amusement.
"Come on, confess little whore," he urged, his thumb lightly flicking her bead that quickly swelled with pleasure at his devious touches. "Confess and I'll give you everything those other people couldn't give you, we don't have much time. Once I leave this all stops."
And stop he did, his fingers pausing the teasing of her clit, and she swore out loud before letting a desperate cry leave her. 
"Please! Please I promise I haven't done anything," she cried, warm tears brimming at the edge of her eyelids as she struggled against the manacles, needing his touch but getting nowhere as they held her down. "I just…I just."
"Almost there, you can say it, don't be shy now. Don't you want this?" He stroked her clit one more time, and she knew it was her downfall.
"Oh god!" She cried out, the tears that she tried to hold back streaming down her face, blurring her vision and the dark predatory look on the man's face. "Please I promise! I promise I only met them because I needed to be fucked," she confessed, "Mmm just a whore for them I didn't do anything please!"
"Good girl, very good girl!" He praised, his demeanor changing back to the kind man that she had first encountered at a dizzying pace. Yet he kept his promise. 
His thumb placed a delicious pressure on her clit as the fingers he had buried in her wet heat began stroking her insides with expertise that had her lips parting yet no words left them as he stretched her open. "So wet little whore, oh so wet. Did those men ever make you feel like this?" He asked, thrilled at the way she writhed from his touches that elicited sobs and moans from one end and wet slickness from the other.
"N-no!" She whined, shivering with certainty that she had never felt so hot, so turned on, in her life.  
"What an honor little whore," he purred, "maybe I should give you something else for being so honest. Would you like that?"
"Y-yes please, please more fuck me please."
"Oh I will sweet whore, but not until I get a taste of you. Not until I see how much this cunt can take, then," he purred, his face inches away from her heat that glistened with her juices. The scent of her made him lick his lips as if he were about to devour a most delicious meal. "Then, I'll fuck you, make you my little whore."
It was the last thing he said to her before he dived forward, his tongue tracing her inner folds as it joined his fingers in drawing out the most delicious cries from the woman below him. Her legs shook and tensed, and the urge to shut them against his head was incredibly strong, but she was forced to stay open for him as his tongue dipped into her.
A noisy growl escaped his throat as he tasted her sweet cunt which only provided more of her wetness for him. Wetness that he eagerly lapped up noisily, wanting her to hear how good she tasted to him, which only made her stomach knot up even more as she felt the rush of pleasure invading her mind.
The sounds of her cries increased as he increased the speed his fingers were fucking her, and it was no surprise that when he went and wrapped his lips around her swollen clit and sucked it harshly. Tongue darting out to lick her, before he scraped his teeth against the sensitive bundle did the pain and pleasure of the action send her over the edge.
Her body arched as much as she could being pinned down, and her insides clenched so much that it almost became painful.
She let out a loud, long, and watery cry of, "FUCK!" That filled the air as he continued to suck at her, his fingers only slowing down as her insides clenched around them in an attempt to draw them in deeper.
Truly the cunt of a whore. He grinned at that, yet he didn't stop his assault on her body as he happily licked at her bead, his touch turning painful as she writhed underneath him.
"P-please too much too much," she sobbed, yet her body seemed to want more as it pressed against him, and the dark joy he felt was tremendous as he pulled away from her cunt, his fingers still stroking her even as she begged him to slow his movements.
"Oh no little whore," he grinned madly, watching tears stain her face as she cried and wriggled helplessly. "Weren't you listening to me earlier? I'll stop when I think you're done. And you are not done."
A distress noise left her lips as he dragged his fingers in and out of her. Yet it wasn't long before those noises morphed into ones of pleasure again. The cycle starting once again and lasting until he wanted it to end.
A/N: no regrets and now i wanna write all the unhinged smut with this man.
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deliriuxe · 5 months ago
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I like putting him in little outfits like some decrepit barbie doll I dug out of the depths of my basement
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lovieku · 3 months ago
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OBVIOUS ⋆ 정국
𐙚 baby, could i be more obvious?
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you lose your virginity to jeongguk, the only boy you’d ever trust with such weight. and what you both feel for each other couldn’t be more obvious.
based on this ask
from the grande series ୨ৎ
pairings: bookstore employee!jk x virgin!fem reader
genre: smut, strangers to friends to lovers
ratings: +18 / mdi
warnings: lower case intended, porn with some plot, mutual pining, age gap (21 n 25), first time, dry humping, tit play (small boobs lover jk!!!), oral (f receiving), fingering, hand job, size kink, protected sex, missionary, cowgirl, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, sooo much praise, and pet names, jeongguk is so so loving and caring, sm fluff hehe, bit of angst maybe? but lovey dovey confession <33
word count: 12.9k
a/n: aaaa this is so silly and rushed but theyre so cute and i had to do something about it. ps: this is my first time writing smut, hope it’s not embarassing Help ..any feedback is appreciated 👩🏻‍💻
────୨ৎ────
you met jeon jeongguk at your favorite bookstore. the one tucked away in the quieter part of town, hidden in the shadow, squeezed between a small café and a vintage shop with an unassuming facade. it’s not the kind of place that draws crowds, most people passed it without a second glance, without paying it the attention it deserved.
but you always did, too attentive for your own liking, too curious for your own sake. you had always been the type to notice the quiet places where stories seem to breathe.
there was nothing not to love about the store. it felt like a refuge in tones of deep brown wood and soft amber light. it wasn’t flashy, but that’s why you loved it. stepping inside always brought a sense of calm, brought you closer to feel the whisper of worn leather bindings, the smell of old pages. it was being understood, accepted, seen.
meeting jeongguk wasn’t fate. it wasn’t some serendipitous moment ripped from a movie script. you didn’t bump into him while too immersed in your favorite novel. you didn’t reach simultaneously for the same book and argued over it, only to end up in the café next door.
jeon jeongguk was simply working there. he was an employee at the bookshop, stocking shelves, checking inventory. he just so happened to be charming, and the only one who came up to you after you’d been standing in front of a high shelf for what felt like an eternity.
“looking for anything in particular?”
when you turned to follow the source of the honey voice, not too low but still smooth, you had to fight hard to keep the gasp that was threatening to escape locked in your throat. he was tall. way taller than you. his dark hair fell in soft curls, brushing the nape of his neck, framing his face with carefully crafted, but effortlessly beautiful curtains. and when you managed to escape his wide eyes, seemingly storing all the warmth the shop could offer, you found it even harder to contain the surprise as you spotted a trail of intricate ink designs starting from his hand and running up his muscled arm, only to disappear beneath the short sleeve of his black polo.
he was still staring, expectantly. and you just kept standing there, mute. observing like a maniac. you stumbled over your words, trying to steady your voice, “oh— um. i was looking for the japanese author, kawamura?”
the way his eyes lit up at your request was unmistakable. and after that, the same spark would flicker in his gaze every time you stepped foot in the shop.
you later found out that he was new, which explained why you hadn’t noticed him before, all the times you’d gone and searched for books. which weren’t a lot, but enough for the other staff to know your face through the years. and now, certainly enough for jeongguk to become acquainted with your presence.
you started finding excuses to go more often, week after week, convincing yourself that you needed new books to accompany your tea as the colder months approached. truth be told, it wasn’t just the books pulling you in. your friends kept teasing you about the real reason why you’d always hurry there after your lectures ended, and deep down you knew you just had to accept it. you were developing a silly, little crush.
jeongguk didn’t seem to mind the growing frequency of your visits. if you had to guess, you’d say he was just as eager to see you. or maybe he was just exceptionally good at his job. if that were the case, you hoped he was crowned employee of the month every single time.
there was always a line he never crossed. his professionalism remained intact. he greeted you like any other customer, offering his help when you needed it. and you always seemed to need it, didn’t you? yet, there was something in the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when you smiled, the way his lips curved in that subtle, almost hidden way when you left with a new book in hand. you’d walk out of the store, clutching your latest literary find, grinning like a fool, and jeongguk would watch, his own smile lingering long after you were gone.
deep down, you knew this couldn’t last forever. you were just a student, miserably scraping by in the tiniest flat imaginable, your waitressing part-time job barely paying enough to make it through the month. but you’d feel bad, wasting hours of jeongguk’s shift, monopolizing his time with your indecision over paperbacks, keeping him off his tasks, just for it to be a waste. you needed to show him your gratitude, in a way. contribute to the income of the bookshop. so, you kept buying books. you weren’t sure you even had more space to fit them in your own shelf.
yet no matter how much you tried to convince yourself to stay away, you couldn’t help it. books were your escape, your joy, and the fact that they were sold to you by jeongguk was just an added bonus. the problem wasn’t him— it was your wallet. your poor, overworked wallet that kept reminding you of the price of each novel and how your little crush was becoming financially unsustainable.
it was one of those afternoons after your morning lectures, where the crisp autumn air made you even more eager to slip into the bookstore, feeling that familiar rush of warmth as jeongguk greeted you with his usual smile. this time, he surprised you with a book he had found just for you, claiming “you’d enjoy it. feels light and genuine, just like you.”
when it came time to pay, cheeks still flushed after the sickly, sweet grin he flashed your way, you sighed as you rummaged through your bag for your card.
he scanned it, only to glance up at you with a hesitant expression, “huh… it declined.”
“what?” you laughed, though it was shaky, disbelief lacing your words, “no, that can’t be right. try again.”
he did, but the outcome remained unchanged. he met your eyes with a worried frown, and you felt your face flame in embarrassment, not the one that made your insides swarm with butterflies minutes before this.
you groaned, pressing your palm to your forehead in mortification, “fuck, this is so humiliating.”
jeongguk chuckled softly, his voice soothing, “hey, it’s really not. it’s okay. i’ll pay for it.”
your jaw dropped, and you looked at him like he had lost his mind, “no, what? are you crazy? don’t— don’t do that. you don’t need to. i’ll just come back another day.”
what followed was a ridiculous, playful back-and-forth. you refused, he insisted, and soon enough, the two of you were locked in a silly tug-of-war over the book itself, laughing despite the situation. he finally threw his hands up in surrender, his smile impossibly wide, the kind of grin that made your heart skip a beat.
“alright, alright,” he relented, shaking his head, “but i’m still not happy about this. if i can’t pay for your book, at least let me buy you a coffee. i’m clocking off in 15. will you wait for me?”
you couldn’t contain your eyes from widening, your smile to dumbly paint your features as you eagerly nodded. you didn’t trust yourself to speak, afraid that if you did, some ridiculous teenage squeal would escape. he was grinning just as hard, though.
and so, you began seeing jeongguk outside the confined space of the bookstore, in a world beyond the shelves and spines of novels. his attire was always simple, dark tones that exuded comfort and warmth. his sweaters seemed soft enough to curl into, and his presence felt just as inviting.
but you pushed those thoughts away, trying to remind yourself that he was becoming a friend. one of your closest, even. you tried. you did! but you just couldn’t help the way your mind wandered, imagining what it would be like to lean just a little closer, to feel the warmth of his embrace. god, get a grip.
still, it was impossible to ignore the flutter in your chest each time his eyes lingered a little longer than necessary. outside the bookstore, jeongguk was different. not in a bad way. he was just more relaxed, more himself. his touch came naturally, a hand at the small of your back guiding you through a crowded street, his arm slung casually over your shoulders like it belonged there. he was playful in a way that hinted at something deeper, his jokes sometimes drifting into uncharted territory, leaving your stomach in knots, your thoughts spiraling down paths you hadn’t dared explore.
and then there was the way he looked after you. he was older, just by a few years, 25 to your 21, but it felt like a gulf of experience separated the two of you. he’d seen more, lived more. experienced more. knew more. about all that stuff you’d been scared to explore, the stuff that happened in the intimacy of one’s bedroom. you knew he had his fair share of girlfriends, he told you about it. just how you’d told him you never got close to a relationship. you just flirted around with a boy in high school, messily making out in the corners where no one could see you. but it never went over that.
jeongguk’s protectiveness over you came naturally. you didn’t mind. it was reassuring, the way his hand tightened around your wrist in a crowded space or how his gaze followed you across a room, always making sure you were safe.
you found yourself spending more and more time together. walking through the city, staying up late at cafés, or just wandering aimlessly in his car, talking about everything. you told him about your classes, the stress of exams, your dreams of becoming a teacher, and the uncertainties that weighed you down. he listened, really listened, in a way that made you feel seen, like every word you said mattered.
jeongguk shared his own story too. he’d dropped out of college a year ago, deciding that the path everyone else had planned for him wasn’t for him at all. now, he was drifting, trying to figure out where he belonged. he took inspiration in the way your eyes sparkled at the prospect of your future. little did he know, your eyes just reflected the galaxies in his that you loved getting lost into.
it terrified you. because with each passing day, your feelings for him grew stronger, more undeniable. it wasn’t just a crush anymore. it was something that had its own weight, pulling you closer to him. the lines were blurring, but you let them.
one night, after a long week of classes and stress, you went out with a few friends. jeongguk hadn’t been able to join, caught up with work, but when your tipsy self had dialed his number later that night, he picked up right away. your voice was soft, your words slurred. they echoed through the bar’s bathroom, followed by your uncontainable giggles as jeongguk playfully scolded you on the other line. the same softness was painting his face, and he only hung up when he started his car, showing up within minutes.
by the time he arrived, you were well past tipsy and leaning dangerously toward drunk. you didn’t notice him sheepishly greeting your group of friends, their eyes lighting up with interest at the image of the renowned jeon jeongguk, until his low voice called your name, slipping his arm around your waist and helping you up from the bar stool, “come on, let’s get you home. say bye-bye.”
you glared at him, face slightly reddening at his tease. he just loved treating you like a little kid. loved poking fun at you. still, you leaned into him, the scent of his body wash wrapping around you like a comforting blanket, banter ready on your tongue, “i’m fine, grandpa,” you slurred amusedly, but your legs wobbled as you tried to walk.
he chuckled under his breath, guiding you out of the bar, “yeah, sure you are. you’re barely standing.”
the night air was cold against your skin, but jeongguk was warm, his body solid and steady as you clung to him.
you didn’t mean to say it, didn’t mean to let the words slip, but in your hazy, alcohol-fueled state, you genuinely wondered, “why are you so good to me?”
he paused for a moment, glancing down at you with a small smile, “because you deserve it.”
the car ride was silent, in a comfortable way. you got lost in the way the city flashed past you, and jeongguk stole sneaky glances at you from the corner of his eye, his hand gripping the steering wheel a little tighter each time he let his eyes linger.
when he reached your place, he helped you inside, gently guiding you to the couch. you were too dazed to fight him when he insisted on getting you some water and a blanket. he moved around your cramped flat with ease, having memorized where every single thing belonged after his countless stays at your place, watching movie after movie or simply keeping you company while you revised.
he sat beside you for a while as you rambled on about your night, how the music was slightly disappointing even with the drinks being overpriced.
jeongguk listened attentively, even with your words stumbling out in messy fragments, jumping from one topic to another. his eyes traced the way your hands moved in wild gestures, the way your lips fumbled for the right words, the glaze in your eyes reflecting the soft glow of the room. he didn’t realize it at first, but his body instinctively followed your movements, leaning closer with every excited wave of your arms, his knees brushing against yours, his head nodding in time with your words.
only when you stopped talking, turning to face him and catching his gaze in the dim light, he was made aware of the little distance between you. it wasn’t unusual for the two of you to be this close. always sneakily seeking for one another in booth seats of the pubs you’d visit every so often, his hand lingering on your knee for longer than needed when calling for your attention, your arms locking together when walking through the city.
but this moment was different. it was heavy with something unspoken. and so tender, fragile.
your cheek rested on the back of the couch, your body slouched, your eyes half-lidded. he sat straight, his torso turned towards you, his head bending down to study your face better.
you didn’t think when you blurted his name out, your gaze falling on his lips, “jeongguk.”
he hummed softly.
“i want you to kiss me.”
the words tumbled out before you could stop them, but you didn’t take them back. you couldn’t.
jeongguk didn’t seem startled by your unfiltered words. he didn’t flinch, didn’t pull back. he only tilted his head slightly, the corner of his lip inching up sweetly, “you want me to kiss you?”
you hummed, with the same softness, only tinted with uncertainty. fear of rejection. you were suddenly aware of what you asked him now that he repeated it back to you. and you realized how much you meant it, just now.
but his tone wasn’t condemning. it was seeking for confirmation that he heard right, that it wasn’t just your drunk thoughts talking. still, he didn’t lean closer, nor let his eyes fall to the lower part of your face.
he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper, “i’ll kiss you. just not now.”
”what? why not?”
your eyebrows were cutely furrowed, the blush the alcohol painted you with only making the pout on your lips even more irresistible.
jeongguk hissed amusedly, ”because you’re drunk. and when i’ll kiss you, i want you to be sure about it. want you to remember it.”
”but i am sure about it. i want you.”
once again, your blunt confession didn’t seem to faze him. he smiled, kept his tone low, ”i know. i want you too.”
your breath hitched at the unexpected sincerity of his words, your eyes roaming all over his face. you subtly shifted closer, your lips parted slightly with desire. the flame that lit up your body burned all the alcohol from your system, and suddenly you were more awake than ever. you were alert. your heart pounding, your core pulsing. he looked so inviting, so pretty in that light.
he wet his lips, darting his tongue out to play with his piercing. you could feel your head spin. you didn’t just want him. you needed him. and it wasn’t the alcohol. you were sure of it.
you could only dumbly lean closer and hope for the best, but he chuckled softly, his large hand framing the side of your face and forcing you to stop your path towards him, look at him, swim in the intensity of his gaze.
his tone was gentle, delicate, understanding, “if you don’t change your mind, we’ll talk about this tomorrow, okay? when you’re sober. hm?”
his eyes searched yours, waiting patiently for your response. you only managed a small nod, your eyes glossy with frustration and a bit of shame. you bit your lip, muttering a small okay and letting him fix your hair with the fondest look in his orbs.
he left your flat only after tucking you in your bed, because you begged him to, and after much more pleading, you even convinced him to stay beside you until you fell asleep. you didn’t feel him slip out of your hold on his hand, the weight of his body leaving your bed, and with it, the warmth of his presence going as well.
but the following day, after downing the glass of water you assumed he left by your nightstand, you bore through your headache and searched for his contact in your phone first thing as you woke up. you were instantly hit with flashes of the night before, and you remembered exactly what you told him, what he promised. that if you still wanted it, you would talk about it. and you just needed to hear his voice, as soon as possible.
you’re not sure what there was to talk about. you asked him for a kiss. his lips on yours. it’s not like there would be much space for talking.
with your phone to your ear, the ringback tone was the only sound filling the space between your thoughts. you felt a twinge of anxiety in your stomach. you should have probably called later, let yourself adjust to consciousness. maybe rationalize yesterday’s events and find a better way to move around them. give yourself more time to think it over. the wait stretched on, and it only gave your doubts more space to spiral, turn into little monsters whispering evil things in your ear.
he probably wanted to talk to you about it because he thought it was a stupid idea. he didn’t really want it, was just lying to get you to shut up. he thought you were foolish, childish, not his type at all. or maybe, he was seeing someone and didn’t know how to tell you. wow, that would be humbling. you wanted him so bad and he was just—
“hello?”
his voice sounded muffled through the line. you clumsily adjusted your device to your ear, sitting up, still in your bed, last night’s makeup smudged under your eyes, “jeongguk?”
”that would be me, ma’am.”
“hi,” your voice was low, thick with sleep and the remnants of your hangover, and it sounded weaker than you’d intended to reveal.
”hey. feeling better, miss?”
his playful tone was laced with affection, and it instantly put a smile on your face. you didn’t realize it, but your mind was clearing, your body unconsciously easing back into the covers, “i am.”
jeongguk hummed, and you heard the faint sound of movement on his end. he was probably getting ready for the bookstore, but still found time to pick up your call. it made you alert, awkwardly aware of what both of you were probably expecting out of this conversation.
you cleared your throat, smoothing some of the morning grogginess and sounding lighter, softer, “come over after your shift? i miss the office. and your ramyeon.”
when he chuckled in your ear and teased you for that one time you said his cooking was average, you felt your shoulders relax. even more when he agreed and shot you a quick see you later, followed by the exaggerated sound of smacking lips.
it was his signature goodbye, always ending your calls with that. it would usually make you roll your eyes, a grin tugging at your lips. but this time, it made you blush like a pubescent teenager. get. a. grip.
jeongguk noticed the slight shift in your demeanor right away. he could taste the tension, smell it in the air, feel it in the way you’d become stiff, even when his fingers barely grazed your skin. it was a stark contrast to how things had been between you two.
you still moaned around the first bite of his ramyeon, still giggled with your mouth full as he mockingly mimicked your voice, playfully downgrading his cooking skills from months ago. but you blushed a little harder at the smirk that followed his usual tease. subtly ran away from his hand seeking your contact.
with time, both of you had grown comfortable with the casual touches, playful proximity— tickling at each other’s sides, poking jokingly, or simply brushing hands when no one was looking. it had become a natural part of your dynamic.
but after your earlier slurred confessions, he could tell that it was affecting you more deeply now, your body reacting differently to his touch. the way you startled at his closeness, the small breath catching in your throat. it all made his head spin, his fist tighten in restraint. you weren’t the only one affected.
on your couch, you found it hard to relax in his familiar embrace, an arm around your shoulders, your head resting on his chest. the steady rhythm of his breathing usually soothed you, but tonight, your heart was fighting its way up, dangerously close to spilling all over his neat clothes. you exhaled shakily, the office playing quietly on the tv doing a weak job at distracting you.
and jeongguk couldn’t take it anymore. lust wasn’t the only feeling simmering under the surface. he was scared. that he may have read it all wrong, that you only blurted it out because you were drunk and not in control of your thoughts. he was terrified of stepping the wrong way, doing something that would determinately scare you away, end whatever you two had for good. and he didn’t want to lose you. wanted to keep you. and that went over the need to taste your lips.
through the corner of your eye, you could feel him stare down at you intently. his other hand reached to move your hair out of the way, and you let him. you turned to meet his gaze, and relaxed slightly at the fond look on his features.
“what’s going on in that pretty, little head of yours? will you tell me?”
you blinked. gulped down loudly. the reassuring smile on his face grew bigger. you shifted slightly in his hold, moving your body to face him, and the arm that was around you naturally fell down your waist.
you tried to word it differently, tried to suppress it just a bit longer, find another way around it, but his blown out pupils lowered all your inhibitions, “do you— do you still want to kiss me?”
“i do. very badly.”
his response was immediate, and it came through a whisper. it caressed your face sweetly, and it made you aware of the natural gravity that pulled you even closer, to the point of your noses almost touching.
you were unable to move, to initiate anything, to be truthful to your desires. your orbs jumped on every corner of his face, widening. he let his palm close around your hip, then he spoke low, “will you let me do that?”
jeon jeongguk kissed you slowly. his lips lingered on yours, tasting, moving with intent. his hands framed your face, traveling down your neck and holding you gently by the nape.
it was sweet, and delicate. he took his time becoming acquainted with your pace, letting you control the movement of his doings. when he darted his tongue out to trace your lower lip, you granted him permission to explore the insides of your mouth.
with tongues intertwined, the kiss gradually became sloppier, more desperate. your fingers found home in his long curls, tugging at the base of it, and supporting yourself while arching your body into his, pressing yourself against his chest, seeking for confirmation that he wanted this just as badly as you did.
he welcomed your proximity by letting his palms fall to your waist, keeping you close, and tracing his touch dangerously close to the curve of your ass.
you whined lowly, but the sounds became ingloriously louder the more he pressed your body against his hard one, his touch wandering, squeezing, feeling.
you messily straddled his lap and sat with your knees on both sides of him, your desire deepening with your kiss, devouring his lips harder, twisting his hair in a confused tangle the more you got lost in them.
his hands went to hold your hips, and you soon felt a stronger weight on them, gently pulling you away and giving you a minute to catch your breath. though it was taken out of you the moment you took in the man in front of you, his lips swollen, his eyes half-lidded, his curls all over the place.
he let out an amused chuckle, combing through your own mess on your head, “hey, pretty. it’s okay. there’s no rush. we can take it slow, hm?”
in that small moment, you were made aware of your own eagerness slipping out of your control and rushing your actions, insatiable with wanting more, but not even being sure if jeongguk wanted that more just as much.
instead, you were sure your whole face was a crimson shade with the way the boy under you fondly grinned, his hand guiding you by the nape and letting your lips meet again in a small peck, before he focused on your face again.
jeongguk never left your eyes, and you were too hypnotized to even think of looking elsewhere. his gaze was steady, magnetic, thirsty to drink in your reaction as he guided your hips against him, letting them drag over his clothed bulge. you moaned, unshameful, your eyes rolling back.
”yeah? you like that?”
you could only nod dumbly, repeatedly, using your hands on his shoulders as support while you kept grinding on him. slowly at first, just how he had suggested. but the stimulation was too good, your clit deliciously meeting his hardness, spreading the embarrassing amount of wetness you had already collected all over your panties. you tentatively picked up your pace, his hands immediately stopping you.
”you need to be patient, doll.” his scold was only playful, the smirk spreading on his features letting you know he enjoyed the effect he had on you, the way he bit his lip communicating he was just as affected. but you liked the feeling of him guiding you through this.
you didn’t know what to do, weren’t sure how to please him, too shy under his adoring look. you sheepishly smiled, falling onto him and hiding yourself in the crook of his neck.
he laughed, his chest moving with it, and you could feel his heart pumping, his warmth meeting the side of your face. he took the hand on your waist and dragged it up your back, soothingly, “you’re doing so good, baby. okay?”
it was sweet, and the praise made you pulse around nothing. you nodded, your nose brushing against his neck as you timidly let your lips leave a trace of wet kisses along his adam’s apple, going up his jaw. he hummed, the sound reverberating in his throat and against your mouth.
you left small pecks on his cheek, to his nose, retreating after laying a quiet one on his mouth. you looked back at him, jumping between his eyes, confession tumbling out your tongue, “sorry. i just want you so bad.”
he chuckled, moving your bangs out of your face, “i want you just as much. but i don’t want this moment to be fast. want to make it special for you.”
his whispered words tugged at the strings of your poor heart. you felt it begging to be ripped out of your chest, banging on your rib cage, maybe trying to find another way up your throat. but its repeated, quick pumping also matched the need pooling down your lower belly, staining your panties.
you nodded, finding his lips again and deepening the kiss, adapting to a slower rhythm as your tongues fervently explored each other. he grabbed your sides and grinded you closer to him, moaning in your mouth as you matched his gentle guiding, meeting the involuntary buck of his hips.
the almost too tender drag of your clothed pussy against his clothed, hard cock soon became torturous for the both of you, reduced to panting, eager messes. you felt unashamedly close just from the repeated action, and if he hadn’t decided to lay you on your back just then, you were sure you would have cummed already.
he was gentle as he positioned you on the couch, your body sprawled while he was mindful not to put too much of his weight on you. when he left your lips, you instinctively whined. your head subtly lifted off the sofa to try and follow his mouth, bring it back on yours, but he only smirked and darted his tongue out to lick off your taste.
he didn’t give you time to protest, to miss his touch, to be left unattended. because he quickly moved to work on your neck, his tattooed hand tentatively seeking its way under your t-shirt.
you let him wander. let him leave wet traces from your jaw down your collarbones while his fingers left goosebumps along their path, and rose up to your chest. he hummed at the feeling of your bare breasts, smirking at the absence of a bra.
he felt the skin under it, only for his palm to cup your boob and knead at it. it was a perfect fit in his large hand, his thumb teasingly slicing over your nipple and making you mewl, arching your back and pushing your front into him.
he moved himself from your neck and hesitantly lifted up your shirt, searching your eyes for permission. you put your hands on his and led them to take it off you, discarding it on the ground.
he sat back on his heels, admiring your figure laying between his legs. in his eyes, you found something you were never met with until that moment.
he looked starved, his pupils blown and following every curve of your body, his hands hovering only to end up caressing your sides delicately.
you blushed, hard, using your hand to cover your face and throwing an arm over your chest. his palms squeezed your hips twice, his thumbs stroking the skin under your ribs, “don’t hide from me, pretty. let me see you.”
you shook your head stubbornly, a small whine escaping your throat. but he could tell you weren’t starting any fight, he could make out your smile, barely concealed under your fingers.
jeongguk moved your wrists and laid them on top of your head, his face nearing again to leave an adoring kiss on your lips. when he found your eyes again, the fondest smile was painting his features, “you’re beautiful.”
“my boobs are small,” your voice was muffled, shy, hidden behind your childish pout.
“i fucking love them,” with one hand still keeping your wrists together, he used the other one to play with your breasts once more, his gaze hypnotized by the way he could make them fit in his large palm, squeezing them together and kneading at the softness.
you moaned, loud and unashamed, when he guided his smooth lips to your nipple, his gaze never leaving yours while he attempted small, kitten licks at it.
when he saw how your eyes lustfully rolled back as his fingers went to play with your other boob, rolling it and letting his thumb slide over the sensitive center, he took it as his go-ahead to wholly engulf your wet nipple in his mouth and suck on it, lick around it, kiss it.
jeongguk was hastily making out with your tits, giving both of them the attention they needed, reducing your nipples to soaked, hard messes.
you felt your soul ascend high and leave your body when, as you unconsciously thrusted your hips up in desperate need of friction, you found that in his knee, the one that was positioned between your legs, the one you now grinded into with no control over your pace, bringing yourself closer to the edge.
“fuck, jeongguk,” you didn’t have time to feel ashamed over how delirious you sounded, or looked, the lewd noises of his sucking taking you even higher, his hands massaging your boobs with intent.
you only got louder the more you let your cunt rub against his leg, a motion you were unable to slow down, too eager to get to the finish line. and this time, jeongguk let you, even spurring you on, “let go, angel. cum on my thigh.”
it was all the encouragement you needed to fully loosen, his own whines resounding against your chest and blending with your high-pitched moans, eyes rolled back, head thrown to the side, fingers clutching around jeongguk’s locks and guiding him further into you as you lost control on his thigh, “gonna cum!”
your orgasm took over your whole body, shaking with overwhelment at the stimulation. all the sensations you were feeling were new to you, but nonetheless welcomed in the way your eyelids drooped with relaxed pleasure and you worked to catch your breath, your muscles untightening, your arms falling by your sides.
jeongguk left one last kiss around your nipple before lifting himself up to admire your fucked out state, your cheeks flushed and sweat adorning you with an angel-like glow, the lazy smile on your face as you stared at him making his heart skip a few beats.
he let his eyes wander, his own expression incredulous at what had just happened, “that was so fucking sexy, baby.”
the way you sheepishly chuckled was contagious, his giggles filling your ears as he lifted you up and pulled you against his chest, your still weak body falling onto him with ease. he smiled fondly, looking down at your face, “if you want to stop here, it’s totally okay. i won’t—“
“no!” your energy came back to you as quickly as it left your body minutes before, sitting up straight in his embrace with your eyes wide and worried. you fumbled with your words, “no— no. i want to keep going. please.”
the grin that took over his features adorably caused his nose to scrunch, and he had to put his lips on yours and let them blend together in a sickly sweet kiss to keep himself from saying the words that were so dangerously close from spilling, on the tip of his tongue. he hoped, as he slid it against yours, that you could still feel them, and accept them.
he retreated to cup your cheek in his palm, your eyebrows still unconsciously drawn up in agitation, but easing as he reassured you, “you don’t have to beg, angel. i’ll give you anything you ask for.”
”okay. couch is uncomfortable. take me to the bedroom,” your arms stretched out, teasingly expecting him to pick you up.
you squealed when he did, taking your legs, wrapping them around his tiny waist and getting up the sofa, leading both of you to your room. he didn’t have to watch where he was going, his feet automatically guiding him, having adjusted to your flat long ago. but even if that weren’t the case, he would still not look, too caught up in your glossy orbs.
he pinched your sides before laying you on the soft surface of your bed, legs still tight around him, “bossy much, hm?”
you shrugged, a naughty grin accompanying the playful glint in your eyes, “you’re following my orders flawlessly.”
he scoffed amusedly, kissing his teeth, “ah, is that right?”
you hummed, eager with taking the back and forth further, see where it takes you, “such a good boy.”
the giggle that tumbled out of you as he narrowed his eyes betrayed you, breaking into a full fit of laughter as he tickled your sides, your legs leaving his waist. he tauntingly bit your neck, not enough to hurt you, grinning mischievously, “i’m letting you get away with too much. need to teach you a lesson.”
the laugh died in your throat the second he lifted his shirt up, showing his body to you for the first time. michelangelo would have loved to sculpt him, that’s the first thought your slowed down brain could come up with as you let your eyes wander all over his upper body.
he was toned, his eight pack abs glowing effortlessly for your mouth to water, his nipples a brownish color and so inviting, making you lean on your forearms for a better view.
the arm that wrapped around one of your legs and pushed it on the side was the one inked with those intricate designs you spent boring, lazy afternoons analyzing, and now they were the reason why you could feel a familiar buzz down your core again, coating your panties with even more of your sticky juice.
“cat got your tongue?” there was no way you could even think of a witty come-back with the way he lowered his pretty face between your thighs, his cocky smirk never leaving his expression as his eyes fixated on your own, challenging you.
but you were long gone, willing to let him do whatever he wanted to your body. you stared intently as his fingers hooked under the hem of your shorts, pulling them down in a sensual motion, until they fell on the floor.
your head fell backwards as he let his nose trace your soaked slit, still hidden underneath the layer of cotton panties, “is this okay?”
he only needed your eager nod to leave a subtle kiss on your clit, then lap at your slick through the thin material, “taste so good, doll.”
jeongguk repeated the motion, licking at you through your undies and letting his big nose brush against your clit torturously, his saliva and your wetness causing the fabric to dig between your lips uncomfortably, showing yourself to him.
you unconsciously bucked your hips up, eagerly demanding to set you free, but he held you down by your waist, “patience, baby.”
you whined loudly, and you couldn’t believe how delirious you sounded already, only moments after your earlier climax. he seemed to enjoy your reactions, the tip of his tongue teasing your entrance and ripping a desperate moan out of you, trying to push yourself into him further but being held down by his strong palms.
you fell on your back, your hair sprawled over your pillows, suddenly too weak to fight against him. he chuckled darkly, speaking against your core, “you’re so cute. so eager for me, angel.”
when he lifted himself up, his mouth glistened with your juice, and you couldn’t help but blush at the image. you were so wet, the liquid stained him even through the layer of clothing still keeping you from fully feeling him.
the silent plead in your eyes was listened to. jeongguk slid off your panties in one swift motion, his eyes hungry at the sight revealed to him, “fuck. so perfect. the prettiest.”
he didn’t show mercy at your weakened state, returning his starved mouth on your cunt, slurping at your lips and sucking on your clit, the stimulation making you see stars under your eyelids.
your eyes snapped open the moment you felt something tentatively poking at your entrance, and as you lowered your head you saw his finger playing with your virgin hole, going up to collect your slick from your slit, then returning on where you were starting to need him.
but you were anxious. he immediately saw it in the way you got up on your forearms again, instinctively closing your legs around his hand. his eyes found yours, reassuringly, “baby. you alright?”
you nodded sheepishly, “yeah. i’m just— scared. don’t want it to hurt.”
the hand that was playing with you now laid on your lower stomach, rubbing it in a sweet manner while he sought for your mouth with his, leaving a honeyed peck on it, “it will hurt a bit, pretty. but i’ll try and make it feel good, hm? if you’re not sure, we can always stop.”
you could only bite your lip as the both of you searched for security in each other’s eyes. he tilted his head, waiting for your approval, the grin spreading and making his long dimples visible infectious, and you stumbled on your words, “can you— kiss me while you do it?”
he hummed fondly, his lips immediately finding yours as he positioned himself between your legs, spreading again and granting him access to the spot you were anxiously eager to feel him.
his tongue slowly moved with yours and lightly lulled your racing heartbeat, instilling some needed tranquility in your system as you felt him close to your core again. his middle finger repeated a circular motion around it, spreading your stickiness, only to bring it on your hole before delicately pushing his digit inside.
a choked out moan escaped you, captured promptly by his lips, keeping you somewhat distracted from the slight burn you felt. it grew the more he slipped himself inside you, and you bit his lip to conceal the pain.
he growled at the action, retreating his finger only to push it in again, this time tentatively deeper. he went over the movement a few times, enough to get you adjusted to the foreign presence, and the more he did it, the more the sharpness turned into pleasure.
”feel good, princess?” the pet name was whispered against your swollen lips, and you kept your eyes closed as you nodded, basking in the newly welcomed feeling.
when he started curling the finger inside you, you involuntarily bucked yourself up against him, your body spasming with your hole and he groaned at the feeling of your tightness, unconsciously grinding on the sheets.
he couldn’t help himself from breaking your kiss to look down, getting lost in the way his digit got sucked inside you, only to come out soaked in your juice. without warning, he slowly added another finger, and you arched your back, searching for support in his shoulder.
jeongguk’s eyes kept jumping between your wet cunt, where his fingers worked in and out, and your pleasure-contorted expression, your mouth agape and unleashing your every moan as your eyes squeezed shut.
he felt deliriously close only from the image, his hard dick desperate for friction and insatiable with the way he was still constricted in his jeans. but this moment was about you and you only. once he felt the way you gripped his shoulder tighter at one particular curl of his digits, he kept hitting that spot repeatedly, faster.
you didn’t notice his face retreating at first, too lost in the bliss of his purposed touch, but you gasped harshly, your eyes tearing open the moment you felt his lips enveloping your clit again and sucking at it, lapping all around it, tasting it as if it was his first meal after ages.
when you looked down, you found him already staring at you through half-lidded eyes. you wailed, feverish, “oh, shit. gguk, don’t— don’t do that.”
he hummed questioningly, and the sound reverberated against your sensitive nub.
you rolled your eyes back, ”gonna cum again if you— fuck.”
“cum around my fingers, baby. cum on my tongue,” the words came out slurred, his mouth full of you, the drenched sounds of your pussy making his encouragement even more erotic as he added a third finger.
his digits kept digging relentlessly inside you, that spot that made your legs weakly squish jeongguk between them being hit repeatedly and bringing you close to your second climax.
what completely undid you were his eager cries against your cunt, and when you managed to lift your head to look down at the boy working so desperately to make you cum on his lips, you saw his hips rutting frantically against your sheets.
you didn’t even have time to announce it, the way your hole spasmed around his fingers and your high-pitched moans doing it for you as you fully let go for the second time because of jeongguk. it was more intense, your body moving with it and unconsciously running away from the touch once it became too intense.
jeongguk cleaned you as best as he could, slurping your juices and licking you off his fingers, climbing up to find your lips and share your own taste with you, his chin coated with your slick.
your pleasured sounds mixed together, the both of you panting and soon laying in silence, one beside the other, staring at the ceiling. you laughed breathlessly, “fuck, gguk. i almost died.”
he only chuckled along with you, the sound strained and dying soon in his throat. with your heartbeat and your breathing settling down, you turned to the side to find jeongguk with his eyes squeezed shut and his jaw clenching. his fists were clutching the fabric beside him, and his knuckles were white from the effort.
it wasn’t complicated to understand why, the next thing you spotted being the hard outline of his cock looking completely suffocated by his pants. you gulped, “gguk. you seem hard.”
he let out a delirious scoff, his eyes finding yours with an intensity you were only then noticing, ”i am hard, baby. so hard for you.”
you tentatively guided your hand to the button of his jeans, undoing it along with the zip. your words were hesitant, but so sincere, ”let me touch you. wanna make you feel good, too.”
jeongguk watched with his mouth agape as you straddled his lap, sitting on his legs only after sliding his pants down to his ankles. you looked so innocent, timidly playing with the hem of his boxers, and he tried to be patient, but he couldn’t.
he groaned, his head thrown back. “___. please, do something.”
his eyes were glossy with frustration, and you had to fight the urge to kiss him stupid, focusing on the task ahead. a big one, indeed. you weren’t going to lie, you were already intimidated by the outline of it.
now that your naked body sat on top of him, being faced with his almost totally bare skin, you realized how much bigger he was compared to you. of course, he was taller, always towering over you, teasing you for your height and pretending he didn’t see you, bumping into you purposefully or asking how’s the weather down there?
but with his large palm resting at your side and almost covering your entire tummy, you realized the implications of such difference. he could totally wreck you, if he wanted to.
ogling at his dick didn’t make it better. it looked huge. a wet patch stained his underwear near the tip, and you salivated at the sight of it.
you tentatively let your finger run along the covered length, and he hissed, slightly thrusting his hips, making you slide closer, “baby. don’t tease.”
the apology was ready and fast on your lips, genuine concern written in your eyes. you didn’t want to keep his suffering going, but you were also hesitant with how exactly you were going to please him. you’ve never seen a real-life dick, and you’ve certainly never touched one.
it was like jeongguk could read your every thought, your wide orbs like an open book to him, reassurance slipping out of him naturally, “doll. you see this?” he took your wrists and laid your hand on his hardness, gulping at the contact, “you feel this? this is what you did to me. there’s no reason why you should doubt yourself, okay?”
you nodded, still unsure, but surely smiling at his sweet tone. he grinned himself, “you’re so hot, and i literally almost came just by looking at you.”
the giggle that escaped you was lively and it eased your nerves with the way it mirrored in his eyes, fondly jumping all over your face. you bit your lip as you escaped his attentive gaze, finally freeing his cock from his confines and making him release a shaky sigh.
it was perfect. pretty. it touched just under his belly button, the tip angry and wet with precum, the pulsing veins running along its length making it throb.
you took it in your hand delicately, jeongguk hissing, and you gasped under your breath. it felt thick in your hold, your fist barely closing around it.
you weren’t sure what to do. your only examples were pornos, and you knew not to fully trust them. but as you started letting your wrist tentatively flick up and down, slowly, you eagerly drank in his reaction.
jeongguk moaned lowly, his eyelids fluttering shut, focusing on the feeling of your smooth hands taking care of his boner. he got louder when you unexpectedly played with his tip, your thumb swirling around it and spreading his wetness down.
your movements were messy, stutteringly uncoordinated, but the concentrated look in your eyes as you stared at his member intently made his head spin, wishing he could fill your slightly agape, watering mouth with it.
in your own mind, you wished his length could be stuffing up your cunt, instead. you slowed down your doings, ending up haltering them as he found your face again, a protesting whine ready to escape him, but you were quicker to surprise him, your voice shy, ”wanna feel you inside me.”
jeongguk groaned deliriously, eyes rolling back at the simple request, ”fuck. you sure?”
you whispered, ”please.”
”of course, angel. been waiting for so long.”
your mouths found each other quickly, starving, both your heartbeats picking up at the prospect of what was going to happen. he combed through your hair to move them behind your ears, rolling the two of you and making you the one laying under his weight.
in between kisses, you asked, impatient, “do you have a condom?”
”yeah, got one in my wallet,” he was panting with effort just as you were, moving from you only to fully free himself from his clothes and then search in his jeans pockets.
as he took the condom out, ripping it open, he stumbled on his words, suddenly awkwardly self-conscious, “it’s not like i have it because i was— expecting us to, huh—“
”jeongguk. it’s okay,” your sweet voice interrupted his overthinking, pulling him to be on top of you again by his arm, “i’m glad you have it, ‘cause i need to feel you. right now.”
he didn’t need to be told twice. you watched, eyes glossy with want, need, as he rolled the condom along his length, huffing out at the sensitivity.
jeongguk brought you closer to him by your thighs, wrapping them around him. he lowered himself on his forearms, his forehead touching yours, eyes swimming together, the proximity making the both of you smile sheepishly.
he exhaled, “are you still sure about this, doll?”
you nodded, the subtle but growing anxiety making your words get stuck in your throat. jeongguk was gentle, patient, his large palm cupping your cheek, “need to hear you say it.”
”yes. i’m sure. want you so bad,” the confession was slurred, shy under his adoring gaze. he kissed along your jaw, slow, intentional.
“okay. just know we can stop whenever you want. let me know if it hurts. i wanna hear you, hm?” his eyes searched yours, frantically, making sure you were good.
as you nodded again, he grasped your hand to hold it, letting your fingers intertwine and lay by your head. with the other hand, he took his length and positioned it where you needed him the most.
jeongguk made it all feel so intimate, special, and safe, that you sensed your eyes water with a feeling stronger than the words you could allow yourself to say. you felt eternally grateful to him for turning a moment you used to dread into something so delicate and precious.
you felt adored. you felt seen, and heard. you felt protected, understood. you saw your reflection in his eyes, in a way that made you want to hide in there forever, maybe travel a bit further down and find home in his heart.
as he started easing himself inside you, both of you gasping at the feeling, his hand gripping yours harder, a tear ran down your cheek. it was a mixture of emotions, sensations. the fullness of his cock entering you, the burn that came with it, his eyes widening alarmingly as he noticed the tears welling along your bottom lashes.
he stilled inside you, his tip now nuzzled in your warmth, his breath hitching, “does it hurt? baby, what’s wrong?”
”no, it’s just—“ it was on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t say it. not now. maybe never? you swallowed it down your throat, “it hurts a bit but it feels so good, gguk.”
”yeah? fuck. you’re so tight, princess. taking me in so good,” his praises replaced the hurt, both emotional and physical, with a familiar fuzzy pleasure, pooling in your lower stomach and releasing more of your wetness on his dick, making it easier for him to slip inside you.
he groaned as he bottomed out, your moan higher than intended. you felt him throb inside you, just how he could feel you pulse around him. a string of curses followed as he repeated the slow action, pulling back to his tip only to push back in, making sure you grew accustomed to the feeling.
”gguk. i feel so full,” you cried, wrapping your legs tighter around his waist, forcing him to stay still inside you. he growled, kissing along your neck and leaving small bites to contain himself from snapping his hips against you.
it was complicated, with the sounds escaping your lips resounding sweetly in his ears and your hole tightening around him in a torturous manner making him release precum inside the condom.
”baby, can i please move? i’m gonna go crazy,” his voice was strained, whiny, muffled in the crook of your neck as your fingers combed through his hair, unconsciously searching for comfort.
your granting hum was more of a high-pitched whine, but he took it positively as he attempted one first thrust inside you, followed shortly by another. your moans got stuck, the air cut from your throat the more he picked up his pace, lifting his face from your neck and straightening up to admire the scene.
it was better than anything he’d ever witnessed, his thickness stuffed in your tight, virgin hole and taking him in so perfectly. he took his free hand to hold you still by your hip as he pushed himself deeper.
you were a mess underneath him. legs squeezing around him, you barely gave jeongguk space to move. you wailed, his name tumbling out your tongue repeatedly as he fucked into you faster. he’d been so gentle with you until that moment, but now his roughness made you impossibly wetter.
when you let your eyes flutter open, you could feel yourself spasm around him at the sight in front of you. his abs contracted with the effort of his pushes, his cock slammed into you relentlessly, his nipples hardened and called for your touch.
you threw one hand to his pec and felt his firmness under you, gripping it for support as he pounded you with intent, your nails scratching his skin, the sounds of your bodies slapping together overtaking your pleasured moans.
he panted, rambling, “fuck, love this pussy. love fucking this pussy. wanna fuck it forever.”
“made just for me. such a perfect fit.”
“that’s how you’ve been waiting to be fucked, huh? nice and deep, you fucking love that.”
his praises and dirty comments made your head spin, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, letting your mouth hang open and release your cries into the stuffy room.
the sight of your fucked out state underneath his control was going to torture him for the following weeks, he was sure of that. he’d see you, sprawled out on your bed for him, your tits moving up and down with each thrust, your pleasured tears staining your face as his name left your pillowy lips like a mantra, every time he’d close his eyelids.
he had to physically hold himself back from releasing already, his length too sensitive and eager, but he wanted to make this moment last for as long as he could possibly handle. he closed his eyes, but he couldn’t escape you. you were loud, and the hottest thing he’s ever heard.
and then, the challenge became harder when you stuttered, unexpectedly, “wanna ride you.”
he threw his head back, a feverish groan rising up his throat, “fuck. you do, pretty?”
you hummed, just as unhinged, your legs untightening around him and weakly pulling at his arm to try and bring him to lay on the bed. he pulled himself out of you slowly, making you cringe at the emptiness, and as he let his back fall on the soft surface, he lifted your figure effortlessly and led you to straddle him.
now on top of him, you weren’t so confident with your earlier claim anymore. underneath you, jeongguk was panting, his pupils blown out, lips agape, cock laying unattended on his stomach. he stroked your sides comfortingly, subtly pulling you closer, and the action caused your slicked pussy to grind against his balls.
the two of you moaned at the contact, and he immediately took his length to pump it a couple of times, gently tapping it against your tummy. you lifted your hips up, positioning yourself on his tip, looking down at jeongguk for support.
the lazy smile you were met with made your heart stutter in your chest, and you put your hand on top of his, still tightly gripping your hip, as you sank down his dick.
your head was thrown back in pleasure, your back arching into him, and jeongguk had to fight with himself to keep his eyes from fluttering shut, wanting to bask in the image of you.
as you fully took him in, you leaned your weight on the palm that fell on his chest, his hands steadying you promptly by your waist, praise ready on his tongue, “doing so amazing, princess. making me feel so good.”
you attempted moving subtly, trying to adjust to the more intense stretch, and the hand that was still holding his led it to cup your boob, instructing him to knead at it.
he moaned shakily, playing with your tit while you lifted your hips only to sink them down again, tentatively repeating the action and gaining confidence the more his whines got louder.
soon, you lost control. the way your clit would brush against his skin every time you bounced down made you pulse relentlessly around him, grinding into the sensation and rotating your hips on him with intent.
you tried to prevent it, to hold yourself back, but all your resolution dissolved in a second the moment you felt jeongguk’s thumb teasing your nub. you jolted forward, still balancing yourself on his chest, his hand on your breast working to keep you straight.
”gguk, i think— i think i’m close again,” you admitted ashamedly, your cheeks flushing but your desire unable to make you stop rutting your hips against his touch, his cock throbbing around your walls.
”yeah? then cum around it, make me feel it,” his low voice spurred you on, the thumb that was teasing you now slicing on your nipple, spreading your slick on your boob.
and that made you let go, for a third time, convulsing on top of him, your cries louder as you spasmed around his thick length, your cunt hugging him impossibly tighter, and for a moment you genuinely feared he’d get stuck.
the strength taken out of you was enough to make you fall onto him, your face in his neck as you panted frantically, his heartbeat matching the speed of yours under your palm laying on his chest.
jeongguk’s voice was weak as he spoke in your ear, his fingers stroking your back comfortingly, “that was amazing, baby. so good.”
you appreciated his constant praises, a lazy grin spreading on your lips, but you couldn't ignore the way he kept thudding inside you, quiet whines stuck in his throat as he tried to conceal them by clutching your sides tighter, stilling himself.
jeongguk wailed feverishly when you lifted yourself up again, resuming your earlier actions, the ones that were bringing him to the point he badly wanted to reach. he was breathless as he took in the determined glint in your eyes, “fu— fuck. doll, what are you—“
”wanna make you cum, gguk.”
he physically couldn’t hold himself from rolling his eyes far deep, bucking up to meet your hips, and the force of his thrusts threw your weak body back on him again, your hard nipples brushing against his equally stiff ones.
”i’ll fuck you, baby, hm? you already did so good for me,” his words were hushed, whispered, delirious, the sound of them overtaken by the sharp pounding.
but he made sure you could feel every syllable, his lips close to your lobe as you held yourself tightly on his shoulders, “so perfect. letting me fuck you good and deep. gonna make me cum so hard, doll.”
your brain couldn’t process any other kind of response other than loud cries, your cunt being relentlessly abused. the waves of your last orgasm still flowed inside you, the buzz coming back to life as the new position gave him perfect access to your sweet, needy spot, hitting it at an inhumane force.
his effort was translated into deep, raspy growls only pushing you closer to the edge, and you swore you could pass out from the overstimulation. but you basked in it, the tears in your eyes blurring your vision.
”you wanna cum again? i know you can, c’mon. i know you got it in you, pretty. just another one. cum with me.”
his pleading, delirious tone undid you. the way you both released with harsh moans was perfectly synced, his hips jolting you forward as you chased your high against his lower stomach. with a few more pushes, he let go fully inside the condom, all the energy being ripped from him at that moment, his hands freeing your waist from the sharp grip while his head fell weakly on the side.
the two of you were almost wheezing, your exhales shaking in your panting chests as you lifelessly rested on him, slowly being lulled by his breathing.
you didn’t even notice yourself slipping so easily into slumber, and if it weren’t for his delicate touch tracing your closed eyelids and moving your hair behind your ear, his sweet voice preventing you from fully falling unconscious, you would have enjoyed just staying in that position forever.
“sweetheart. you sleepy?”
you only hummed, the sound rough and thick.
he removed himself from you slowly, both of you still gasping at the overstimulation, and he gently laid you on your back before tying the condom and throwing it in the bin next to your nightstand.
as soon as your head hit the pillow, your eyes fluttered shut again. the room spun faintly, and your body, exhausted, ignored every request your mind was screaming at you. you were cold, goosebumps rising on your naked skin; your thighs still trembled, a mess of wetness and slick. but you were too tired to move. you could only lay there, sprawled on the sheets.
luckily, jeongguk thought of everything. his mind was full of you, his only thought being taking care of your figure and making sure you were safe, comforted.
he had taken your virginity. it wasn’t just a physical act— it was a gift you had entrusted him with, something you had kept close to your heart, even through all the fears and anxieties you’d shared with him. you had always been afraid to let go, to give such an intimate part of yourself to someone.
but you trusted him, fully and deeply, in a way that you hadn’t trusted anyone before. that knowledge bloomed in his chest like warmth spreading to every corner of his body. he felt a deep sense of responsibility and gratitude. he wanted to honor that trust.
with care, jeongguk slipped away from your side to retrieve a warm, damp towel. the cool air hit your skin as he left, and you stirred slightly, though not fully awake. when he returned and began gently wiping you down, you startled at the sensation, your eyes slowly fluttering open. you were met with his grinning face, his eyes crinkling at the sides, that same boyish smile that always made your heart skip a beat.
“we should clean up, baby,” he said soft, his voice warm and coaxing as he continued to gently clean the slickness between your legs.
“tired,” you murmured in response, your voice thick with exhaustion. “tomorrow.” the word came out as more of a sigh than anything else. you stretched your arms out toward him, your lips forming a small pout. “cuddle. now.”
jeongguk laughed fondly at your sleepy demands, shaking his head as he tossed the towel to the floor. without a second thought, he slid back into bed beside you, pulling the covers over your naked bodies. the warmth of the blanket and the weight of him beside you immediately soothed the lingering shivers in your body, and you sighed in relief.
instinctively, you reached for him, your leg curling around his, your hands seeking the familiar comfort of his waist. your head rested on his chest, where you could feel the steady thump of his heart beneath your cheek. his arm wrapped around you naturally, his fingers tracing gentle circles along your spine.
it wasn’t unusual for you to cuddle, especially during movie nights, or simply when the other needed comfort.
but this was different. there was a new weight to the way your bodies pressed together, your brain grasping around the reality of what had just happened.
your first instinct faced with that thought was to chuckle lightly, your sleepy brain struggling to come up with any more reasonable reaction. when he hummed and moved to look down at your face, you hid yourself further in his chest, your voice muffled, “i can’t believe you fucked me.”
he sounded tauntingly cocky as he moved your hair from your forehead, “now that you put it like that, well, i did.”
your drowsy state lowered all your inhibitions, your eyes fluttering close as you spilled your honesty, “i’ve been fantasizing about this moment for so long.”
“yeah? what a naughty girl,” his playful tone made you blush, the low voice and the hand grazing at the small of your back making you clench around nothing, still sensitive.
you lightly pushed at his chest with a weak smile, “you literally said you were waiting for it to happen, too.”
jeongguk’s eyes gleamed with amusement, his tone dripping in mock shame, “did i, pretty? did i do that? oh god, how indecent of me.”
the taunting banter went on for a while, your fond grins almost breaking your faces in two halves as you started a quick tickle war. it was almost surreal how easily the two of you slipped back into the habituality of your dynamic, as if nothing had changed at all. and in a way, nothing had. you were still you, and he was still jeongguk— the boy who teased you relentlessly and made you laugh until your stomach hurt.
as the laughter faded, your body began to relax completely, your muscles loosening as you sank further into his embrace. your head rested against his toned pecs, and you could feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing beneath your cheek. his fingers continued their gentle caresses along your back, and for the first time in a long while, you felt completely at peace.
but jeongguk, even in the quiet comfort of the moment, couldn’t let it end just yet. his mind was still racing, still full of thoughts of you.
he wanted to hear your voice. wanted to be soothed by its melody. he spoke quietly, almost hesitant, his breath warm against your hair, “don’t fall asleep so soon. i’ll miss you.”
your voice was rough with weariness, but you were quick with your answer, “i’m literally lying on top of you.”
“i know,” he whispered, his thumb brushing softly against your waist. “but i wanna talk to you.”
with great effort, you blinked your eyes open, lifting your head just enough to look at him through half-lidded eyes, “it’s your fault if i can’t talk right now.”
“damn, i got a magic stick,” his voice sounded oddly proud of it and you groaned, hitting him weakly on his stomach and causing him to giggle.
“you’re so gross.”
“you hurt me!” he whined dramatically and it made you roll your eyes amusedly.
chuckling softly, you took his face in your hands and pressed your fingers gently against his lips, “shut up.” your voice was playfully fond as you nestled back against him, your eyelids growing heavier by the second, dozing off again.
at least trying to, because only a minute later his soft voice resounded again.
it was barely audible in the stillness, “___.”
“hmm?”
“i’m so happy.”
his whispered voice tickled your ear and you giggled, brushing it on your shoulder with a sheepish grin on your lips.
you looked up at him through droopy eyelids, both your orbs swimming in a deep feeling you couldn’t name, “i am too. i don’t think i can feel my pussy anymore, but i’m very happy nonetheless.”
your wittiness even after being completely drained of all your energy surprised him, the laugh escaping him moving in his chest and reflecting in your own fond smile.
he left a peck on your forehead, bringing you to lay down on him again, “you’re so silly. i love you.”
the words left his lips so naturally, as if he had always known them to be true, and they sounded so right that it took both of you another moment to realize their implications.
your heart stopped, and both of you froze. your breath hitched and your eyes widened, but you stayed still, too startled to look up at him.
you felt his heart beat impossibly faster in your ear, and you perfectly pictured the shock that was painting his expression right now.
his hands clutched your sides tighter, trying to find a way to keep his running mind from spiraling, your silence not helping whatsoever. he stuttered, “i— i mean. i— oh god, i’m so sorry.”
the hurt in his tone immediately made your chest clench, panic flushing in your veins. you met his eyes alarmedly, jumping between them, “jeongguk. don’t be sorry. you love me?”
he wasn’t sure what to do, couldn’t figure out if the feeling was mirrored as intensely in you as it was in him. it had been building inside him for weeks, lingering beneath the surface, making his heart race and his thoughts blur every time you were near.
the realization hadn’t come to him in a grand, sweeping moment but in the quiet of the bookstore one random afternoon. he had been stacking shelves, mindlessly organizing the rows of novels, when he caught sight of you. you were tucked into a corner, absorbed in a murakami novel, your fingers brushing the edges of the pages with care.
he hadn’t expected you to show up that day. he was sure you’d mentioned having lectures and that you couldn’t meet up with him, so seeing you there, completely unannounced, had startled him.
he remembered standing there for a moment, frozen in place, just staring at you walk through the door. and then you had lifted your head, and your eyes met his across the quiet, sunlit room.
the smile you gave him was sheepish as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, your confession tumbling out softly, “i skipped my classes. i wanted to be here. needed to see you.”
it was shy, and said with a feeling in your gaze that he was scared to decipher.
but he couldn’t help the way it settled in his heart. stubborn, unmoving. the truth was clearly in front of him, and it took the semblance of your face.
you were the truth. he was in love.
so, he could only be truthful to you, “i— yes. i love you.”
the words sank into your skin, filling you with warmth and a sense of completeness that made your chest swell. you exhaled deeply through your nose, trying to steady the burst of emotion building inside you, but your eyes softened, and a tear slipped down your cheek as you smiled, wide and genuine.
“i love you too, gguk.”
it was a simple reply, but the weight behind it carried everything. you didn’t need to say anything more. you couldn’t even if you wanted to, your lips immediately eating at each other, gulping down your furious flow of thoughts and accepting. hearing. feeling. seeing.
all the times you forced to keep shut and convince yourself that what you saw in him and all his care towards you was just coming from a place that would forever see you two as friends. all the secret touches, the shared meals, the warm nights on your couch. all the books you read for him, all the lines he highlighted for you.
it was love. all along. and you felt its power against him, your heartbeats syncing.
when you finally pulled away, you rested your forehead against his, both of you breathing softly in the quiet aftermath of the confession. jeongguk’s arms tightened around you, pulling you even closer as if he couldn’t bear to let go.
the silence that followed wasn’t awkward or uncertain. it was peaceful. comfortable.
and lulled by the quiet, jeongguk ended up being the first to fall asleep, his nervous energy fading away, replaced by a deep sense of contentment. his breathing became slow and steady, his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his muscles relaxing.
despite your earlier exhaustion, you were too wired to sleep. you were still flowing with excitement. the night’s events hit you with great force, and kept you wide awake.
quietly, you reached for your phone on the nightstand, careful not to disturb jeongguk. the screen lit up, showing the time. 3:47 am.
even though it was late, you couldn’t resist. you pulled up jimin’s contact and pressed the call button. waiting. he was always awake at this hour.
jimin had been your best friend for years. your loyal confidant, the one you could splutter all your feelings to and never be judged. he had been by your side all along this particular ride, going from a silly, little crush to feeling raging love for the boy in your arms.
you smiled wide at the prospect of jimin’s reaction at the news you were about to share with him. he was the first person you wanted to inform, he deserved to know.
“bitch, don’t tell me you’re crying over jeongguk, ‘cause—“
those are the first words that came through the line, and they made you silently chuckle at the irony, immediately engaging in his banter, “well, sorta kinda. he said he loves me.”
there was a beat of silence on the other end, followed by jimin’s amused scoff, “wow. crazy news. would have never guessed.”
you were stunned, to say the least. your mouth hung open as you whisper-yelled, “bitch! is this seriously all you have to say?”
you were mindful not to wake jeongguk with your conversation, looking down at him with care. his cheek was squished on your small breast, his mouth pouting and releasing heavy puffs. one of his hands rested protectively over your side, and his thumb brushed your under boob.
he was cozily nestled between your legs, his wavy hair brushing your chin, and he looked so peaceful it was like he was made to be held by you.
you couldn’t help the tears from welling in your eyes as jimin’s next words accompanied the view of the boy you loved, now finally yours.
“babe, c’mon, it was obvious.”
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bi-writes · 4 months ago
Note
thinking about mob baking simon a cake for his birthday (without his prior knowledge) mm good soup
mail-order bride
"you think he likes chocolate, baby?" you ask the cats. they sit side-by-side at the breakfast counter, being good girls as they sit on their chairs and watch you mix batter. "he totally likes chocolate. big boys like daddy love chocolate, don't they, girls?"
you grease two circular pans, pouring the chocolate cake batter into them. you set them in the oven before getting to work on your chocolate buttercream. you're using the new mixer simon bought you--it's beautiful, stainless steel, heavy. when you saw in the store a few weeks ago, you gushed at it, telling simon you saw someone make cinnamon rolls, bread, cakes, all in this mixer, but when your eyes skimmed over the price, you said nothing more, just smiled up at simon and let him lead you over to where the cast iron pans were (you wanted a real one).
a few weeks later, you noticed it on the kitchen counter. sparkling silver, right there, with the whisk attachment on it just waiting for you. and in the cupboard, ingredients--bread flour, powdered sugar, cornmeal, corn starch, dutch process, baking chocolate, whole wheat flour--all for you to play with. and when you baked him the most decadent triple chocolate coffee cake he had ever had, he bent you over the same table his empty plate sat and ate your cunt out with your apron still on. when you kissed him afterwards, he still tasted like chocolate.
you turn off the mixer, reaching in with a spoon to lick the buttercream off of it. you hum with delight, setting it aside, and when the oven timer dings, you pull the cakes out to let them cool.
you wrap simon's present as everything settles. special order, a favor you called into johnny. it's in a nice wooden box, and you tie a big red bow on it, and when you go back into the kitchen, you level and stack the two pieces of cake between buttercream and use a spoon to make a fancy decoration over the top of it.
the front door sounds as you're putting the finishing touches on the cake. you can hear him coming closer, and you gasp.
"no, no, no, don't come in the kitchen yet!"
"wot?"
"just--wait a little bit in the living room, okay?"
"for wot?"
"simon--" you groan. "please? for me?"
you don't hear anything after that except for the tv turning on. when you finish putting the last candles on the cake, you light them, picking up the plate and coming into the living room.
simon looks surprised. he was concentrating hard on the tv, watching the game, but his face relaxes when he sees you holding the cake. the cats perk up from where they're laid down beside him, and their ears flit as you start to sing happy birthday.
his whole face twitches. he stiffens, his palms flat on his thighs as he grips them tight. you set down the cake on the coffee table in front of him, candles glowing as you take a seat next to him. he's still staring at the cake as you finish the song.
"happy birthday, dear simon...happy birthday to you."
you smile at him, wrapping a hand around his bicep, squeezing it gently. you kiss his shoulder before motioning to the cake.
"you can blow them out now, simon," you say softly. "make a wish."
he doesn't move. he stares straight ahead, his eyes fixated on the flickering candles. you reach down and take his hand in yours, intertwining your fingers and hugging his arm. you sit with him quietly, looking at the cake with him, and after a minute or so, you turn back at him.
"simon?" you whisper.
he's crying. you put a hand on the back of his head, scratching his short hair, and you cup his face gently as you wipe his tears. he's silent. the tears come, but he still doesn't move, still won't meet your eyes. you smile, going over to pick up the cake, and you hold it in front of him.
"here...make a wish, simon," you say softly. he picks up his sleeve and wipes his face, leaning over to blow out the candles. you put down the cake, standing up to go get his gift sitting on the kitchen table. when you sit down next to him again, he's still staring at the cake, still trying to pretend his face isn't wet with tears, but he stops wiping them when you place the box in his lap.
he unravels the bow. when he opens the case, he lets out a little chuckle, smoothing his hand over the foam inside.
there are an array of throwing knives laid before him. perfectly crafted, in different shapes and sizes, and when he picks one up and twirls it around between his fingers, the weight of them and the ease at which they move tells him you only picked out the finest quality. they're beautiful, and it's a thoughtful gift, and when he closes the lid on the box, he still can't meet your eyes.
"i'll cut us some cake," you say softly. you busy yourself getting plates and a cake knife from the kitchen, cutting generous slices before handing him one of the plates. he picks up the fork, and when you notice his hand shakes, you take the plate back from him gently and scoop a bite onto the fork for him. you don't say anything, just hold it up to his mouth, and once he takes a bite, you set the plate down and watch as he chews.
when he swallows, you sit again in silence. you reach over and take simon's hands in your own, squeezing them gently before bringing them up to your mouth to kiss softly. when he finally looks at you, all you do is smile.
he hadn't even remembered it was birthday. he never told you when it was, but he supposes you must have been curious enough to look for yourself. he can't remember the last time someone made him cake. he can't remember when he last received a gift, especially one like this. he doesn't know when he last thought himself happy enough to celebrate anything at all, but there is no other way he would've wanted today to go.
joy. you bring uninhibited, unfiltered, all-consuming joy. the way you're smiling at him--he can already see you in the kitchen in that apron, baking this cake, talking to no one but the cats as you carefully decorate it. the way you're looking at him--he knows you dreamed about this all week, scheduling the day so you could have the cake done as soon as he got home.
and chocolate. his favorite. decadent, sweet chocolate--it's still under his tongue, and he wants another bite already, he cannot wait to devour the slice that waits for him on the table.
"happy birthday, simon," you whisper, and when you lean in to hug him, he cradles the back of your head, tangling a hand into your hair as he presses you to his chest. "i love you."
fuck. fuck, fuck, fuck--
"love you, too, baby."
"what did you wish for?" you mumble into his shoulder. simon snorts a little, shaking his head.
"if i tell ya, it won't come true."
"oh, yeah," you giggle. "keep your secrets then."
he doesn't want more; the only thing he wishes for is more time. more time with you. as much as he can get. to live long enough that he gets to see your face for as long as possible.
that whatever he sees for the last time will be you and you only.
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nanaslutt · 4 months ago
Text
Giving bf Takuma a massage (gone wild)
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ʚ cont: fem reader, dirty talk, first time, prostate massage, fingering, masturbation, switch!reader & switch!takuma
MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ ࿔
"You're the love of my life you know that right?" Takuma spoke muffled as he lay on his bed on his stomach, shirtless and waiting. You couldn't help but smile at him, it was just a massage, but Ino couldn't help but praise you for even the smallest things you did. "I love you too baby." You smiled down at him, swinging your leg over his body as you sat down on the back of his thighs, running a single finger from the top of his spine to the dimple in the middle of his back.
You watched his back arch under the small movement, goosebumps rising on his skin. "I'm gonna fall asleep in two seconds if you keep touching me like that, then I won't even be able to enjoy it." You shook your head as you leaned over him and grabbed the massage oil from the nightstand, popping the cap off as you spoke, "That's the point of a massage, Takuma." You turned the bottle upside down and hovered it over his back, speaking again before he could respond, "Might be a little cold."
You squeezed the bottle, watching the clear liquid drip onto his toned back. A hiss fell from between his teeth as he tensed his body before relaxing. "Cold." He said, his fingers uncurling from the fist he balled them in. " Told you, now be quiet." Takuma made a sound of understanding just as you placed your fingers in the oil that pooled on his back, rubbing it in small circles before you added your other hand.
His skin was so hot, that the oil warmed to him immediately. You wet both your hands in the oil and started rubbing it over the expanse of his back with gentle pressure, a soft sigh slipping between Ino's lips as you caressed his body. "Love yer hands," He slurred, his cheek squished against the pillow as he lay with his head facing the side.
"I barely even started." You said just as you dragged your hands to the top of his back and pressed down under his shoulder blades, working out the muscles there first. "I know, love when you touch me." He responded, shifting a bit when you started the massage, making the towel you were sitting on that covered his butt and lower thighs pull down a bit.
The towel was Ino's idea, of course, the man insisting he strip down to nothing to be as authentic as possible, always with the dramatics. Ino groaned shamelessly when you put some of your weight on your knees and kneaded your hands into his back with your body weight. "Too much?" You asked, not letting up the pressure until he told you otherwise. "No, don't stop. Feels good." He almost slurred, his eyes shut in bliss. His body was relaxing more and more by the second.
You smiled a bit at that, he was always so vocal with his thoughts. He would make a horrible prisoner, you thought, spilling all the secrets he knew without thinking twice. You caressed his sides, sliding your hands down until you reached his waist before you pressed them against his lower back, making small circles where the hem of his boxers usually sat. Ino's back arched when you pressed there, a sharp intake of breath heard through his nose.
You knew there was nothing inherently sexual about this, but your boyfriend was making the same noises he usually made in bed and his body was bending and responding to your touch alone, it was hard to not let your thoughts wander. "Feel good right here?" You asked, adding more pressure to the bottom of his spine. Ino just nodded, his eyebrows furrowing together in pure bliss. His body was so slack under you.
You massaged his body until he was mush under your fingers, spending extra time on his shoulders because the pleasured noises were too good to miss. You had one trick up your sleeve you knew was gonna put him to sleep fully. Curling your fingers, you started at the top of his shoulders before slowly caressing his skin with your nails, gently, barely even touching him. The response was immediate, Ino's whole body shook when he realized what you were doing, making the towel you were sitting on move a bit, exposing a few inches of his smooth booty.
It would be so easy to take a bite right now. Tempting as it was, it would ruin all your work on making him so relaxed and pliant, so you averted your eyes, but made no move to pull up the towel. The eye candy was welcomed. "Spiderssss," Ino sighed when you started gently tickling your nails down his back, the goosebumps making an appearance again. "Knew you would love this." You giggled, watching the corner of his mouth curl into a satisfied smile.
You scratched your nails gently down the expanse of his back, over his sides, up back, and over his shoulders before descending lower down his back. At this point, he was so unresponsive you were sure he had fallen asleep. You continued drawing shapes and patterns on his back with your dull nails as you let your eyes fall back down to his ass, the little bit that wasn't covered by the towel.
Sliding your hands down, you pulled the towel back on the other side, the top of his ass exposed, and still, there was no response from Takuma. A smile forced its way onto your face as you started tickling your nails on his ass, the same as you did with his back. "Why does that feel so good?" Ino slurred, making you laugh at how sleepy he sounded. You were sure he was asleep, but you were glad he had no intentions of putting an end to your fun.
With his pleased response, you pulled the towel down completely, resting it where your thighs met the bottom of his ass. "My butt is cold now," Ino complained. "Not for long." You responded, picking up the oil and dripping some onto his skin, watching it slide down the outside of his ass. Ino tensed, the sight making you stifle your laugh. "You're cruel for not giving me a warning," Ino said, a little more coherently now that the shock of the cold oil had startled him.
"You're fiiine, just wait till I get my hands on your ass." You teased, rubbing your hands together and smirking at him as he cracked his eye open and peered down at you. "You sound so mischievous when you talk about my ass, baby." He closed his eyes and smiled just as you placed your hands on him, massaging the surprisingly plump backside of him. How he grew an ass like this you had no idea, but you were endlessly envious.
You massaged him in circles, working out the nonexistent knots, enjoying yourself with this most unnecessary massage. It was hard to not focus on what was between his ass each time you massaged your hands outwards, but you forced yourself to watch the muscles in his back ripple instead. You dragged your hands back up his body, his skin endlessly hot under your fingertips. "Shit," Ino breathed when you dug the heels of your hands into his back as you slid them up and down.
You were more confident bringing your hands back down to his ass now that you've crossed that line. Not that it was a line you were worried about crossing in the first place. Ino made it abundantly clear that his body belonged to you. You wondered if that sentiment extended to the little hole between his legs you always wanted to say hello to.
You slid your hands over his ass and rubbed your thumbs into the dimples of his lower back, bending your body over him as he arched and groaned at the contact. He nuzzled you with the side of his head as you placed a tender kiss against his oily skin, another on his neck, and finished with his cheek before you pulled back and continued pressing into his skin. "Love you so fucking much." Takuma groaned, making your heart swell in your chest.
"Love you too," You responded, placing your hands back on his butt. Scooting down his thighs you leaned down and placed a kiss on the top of his ass, making him laugh quietly. "Love this peach, too." You smiled, sliding back up his thighs. "Yeah?" He teased, wiggling his ass up at you. If only he knew how much he was really tempting you right now, he would clench his cheeks and run for the hills. "Mhm," You responded, bringing your thumbs closer to the inside of his ass purposefully before you massaged him in circles.
Ino went quiet again, his breathing steady, the occasional breath or light, barely there groan falling from between his lips. You spread him open just a bit more than before, exposing his hole. "Feels dangerous when you do that," Ino said, his words soft. You were glad your center was hovering between his legs, or he would feel just how much you were twitching for him. "What? This?" You teased, spreading him open more boldly now that he pointed it out.
Ino shifted his body under you, his ass tensing a bit before he relaxed. "Yeah, I know you're getting an eyeful right now." He smiled, his eyes still shut. "It's not the worst view in the world." You shrugged, bringing your thumbs dangerously close to his hole as you spread him open. Ino hissed at that, his ass clenching under your hands. "Baby…" He whispered, almost shyly.
You had to close your eyes and take a deep breath before you responded, already knowing the direction you wnated to take this. "Hm? What is it, tamuka?" You teased, feigning innocence as you slid one of your hands up his back, the thumb of your other hand finally making contact with his hole. You barely applied any pressure, but you still felt how he tightened at the contact. You swallowed hard, sucking your bottom lip into your mouth as you felt his breathing increase, your hand moving up and down faster against his back.
"Feels weird, babe." He responded. You slowly rubbed your thumb in circles against his hole, your other hand massaging his mid-back, trying to distract him a bit. "Do you want me to stop?" You asked, silently praying to every god that would listen that he wouldn't ask you to stop. Takuma was silent for a while, soaking in your touch before he laughed, "Should've known you were up to something when you started touching my ass." You laughed in return, "It's hard to resist."
"Got me all relaxed so you could stick a finger in my butt," You smiled at that, dragging your other hand back down his body and grabbing the oil. "I don't hear you telling me to stop," You countered, pulling his ass cheek to the side as you popped the cap and let some of the oil drizzle on top of your thumb that was pressed against his hole. "I'm nervous, I'll tell you that," Takuma responded. The two of you haven't talked much about anal play on his end, never going farther than jokes about it.
"We can try it out, and if you hate it I'll stop immediately." You assured him, rubbing the new oil against his ass. You listened to him release a shaky breath as he shifted his hips against the bed. Likely in what he thought was a subtle shifting motion, but you knew he was trying to relieve his undoubtedly hard dick that was pressed between his stomach and the bed. The wind blowing too strongly made this man's dick hard.
"Fuck…" Ino breathed, contemplating while you continued to massage his cheek with one hand, circling his rub with the other. You knew he needed a little guidance, so you decided to start things off and he knew to speak up if he didn't want this. "Spread your legs a little wider," You instructed, smiling when he did so immediately. "I feel like a virgin," Ino joked, the side of his face that was visible to you practically glowing with how red he was.
"I mean, you are when it comes to this spot," You responded, pushing harder on the puckered hole and meeting resistance. Ino arched his back, his lip twitching in what looked like uncertainly. "Is this how you felt?" He asked. Ino always got talkative when he was nervous, and you would gladly distract him and talk him through it if that's what he needed right now.
"I mean, a little. It wasn't bad when you found my sweet spot." You said, reaching down with your other thumb and forcing his hole to open a bit for you. "S-shit," He cursed when you pressed the tip of your thumb in, "I h-have one of those back here, don't I?" Takuma questioned. "Uh-huh, you men were born for a little booty fingering," You joked, hoping your light-hearted tone would help him through the hardest of this.
He laughed a bit before grinding his hips into the comforter again. "My dick fucking huuurts," He whined, his breath coming out choppy, and panted as you pressed your thumb deeper, feeling how tight he was around you. "Did someone say you couldn't touch yourself orr?" You teased, looking around mockingly. Ino scoffed, his hole relaxing a bit, giving you a good opportunity to fully put your thumb inside him.
"It's kinda h-hard when I move I can really feel your finger in there." You smiled before pulling out fully, laughing when his whole body relaxed with the lack of intrusion. "You're supposed to feel it. Just wait till I find your prostate, you'll really wanna feel that." You knew the general area in which it was supposed to be, you just really wished you would be able to find it or this experience would be a flop.
Ino took the reprieve of your finger in his ass to thrust his hips into the mattress a few times, groans and sighs slipping from his lips as you worked on oiling up your fingers. "You look good like that," You praised, watching him tense again and stop his humping when you placed your middle finger against his hole and pressed in hard, his rim opening up more easily. "Used to fuck my pillow before you came a-around, fuck, remember why I liked it so much," Ino tried to joke while his breaths came heavier.
"Breathe, baby, I can't go deep if you're so tense," You cooed, leaning over him and pressing a kiss to the middle of his back as you thrust your finger inside him. "Shiiiit, shit, shit, fuck I really feel it baby," Takuma babbled, squeezing around your finger. "You okay?" You asked, keeping your finger still as you peppered his skin with more kisses.
"Yeah, fuck," He laughed, "Feels so fucking weird." You smiled, glad he wasn't hating this so far. "Good, just need to find that little spot now…" You thought out loud, circling your finger downwards where you thought it was supposed to be. Takuma let out a loud gasp, his hips thrusting forward on their own. Okay, well. You found it a lot sooner than you thought. Silently giving yourself a fistbumb you sat up so you could watch his face and body respond.
"Was that it?" You asked, making sure he wasn't in pain. "T-think so, shit, what the hell was that? Never felt anything like that." He sighed, his breaths now coming in quick pants. "Your prostate, baby." You said just as you curled it again, thrusting forward a bit as you did. "Oh holy fuuck," Ino groaned, his body tensing as he gripped the sheet in his hand, his knuckles turning white.
You pulled your finger back before pushing it back in, curling at the same time. The moan Ino let out was unrestrained and made you throb between the legs. "Feel good?" Ino just nodded his head as you curled it again, the muscle in his jaw clenching and unclenching as you fingered him. You reached over with your free hand and laced your fingers with his, which he immediately laced back, holding onto you for dear life.
You kissed the back of his hand before sitting up and curling your finger over and over again, not going too fast but setting a good pace. Each time you moved, a moan was forced from his throat, no matter how much he wanted to keep it down. "S-slower please," You listened as soon as he got the words out, noticing his body relax when you thrust and curled a bit slower. "That's fucking intense," Ino sighed, his shoulders heaving with his pants.
"Yeah? What's it feel like?" You asked curiously, pulling your finger almost all the way out before pressing it back in, making him whine. "Feels like your… inside my dick, but also my stomach, like… a fire." His description was so bad it made you laugh out loud. "Hey, you asked." He shrugged. "You think you can cum like this?" You asked, pressing against his prostate and keeping your finger there, rubbing it in circles. Ino gripped your hand tightly, muffled groans getting blocked by his teeth as he was forced to take the pleasure you gave him.
"W-ith out my d-dick?" He forced out, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as his back arched. "Yeah," You responded, picking up the pace a bit as you began thrusting again. "D-don't know, fuck fuck, m-maybe," You were about to encourage him when you angled your finger down more and pressed harder, keeping the pace but adding more pressure. "Oh fuck!" Ino practically yelled, his body trying to curl in on itself. "Oh fuck, do that again," He begged, shaking your hand, whether he knew he was doing it or not you didn't know.
You obeyed right away, licking your lips as you aimed your finger for that sweet spot deep in his ass and abused it. "Yes- oh- my god- yesyesyes," Ino groaned from between his teeth, you couldn't speak, you were so turned on you couldn't focus on anything but him and his reactions. Ino stated thrusting his hips against the mattress, matching the pace of your fingers while thrusting himself back on your finger at the same time. "Baby, babybaby," He was babbling, his words barely coherent.
"I'm right here Takuma, I got you, do what feels good I got you," You managed to get out through the intense brain fog. His pleasure seemed to go from 0-100 in just a few moments, and you were eating it up. Ino reached behind him with his other hand and gripped your wrist tightly, his other hand unlocking it from your own fingers as he leaned on his side and reached for his cock--his cock that looked so red and so wet it looked painful. It looked like he already came.
"Keep going, close," He grit out, furiously jerking himself off as you quickly adjust to the new angle of him on his side, thrusting your finger in his tightening hole. His abs and leg muscles were spasming and jerking with your every movement. His eyebrows rose up as he nodded his head, his jaw falling open, drool spilling from the side of his lips. "Harder, h-harder, cumming im, Im- fuck!" Takuma barely got his words out before his body was curling in on itself as cum flooded over his fingers, making a mess of his hand and the sheets next to him.
You continued working his ass, forcing out every last drop of cum from his balls. You didn't stop moving your finger until he gripped your wrist will his full strength, mumbling something about it being too much. You slowly pulled out, the movement making him hiss, his body tensing before he went lax like a pile of jello. You wiped your hand on the bed next to you before pushing his shoulder down so he was lying on his back. His eyes were still screwed shut, his hand gripping the base of his dick hard even as it started to soften.
Stradling his hips you held his face in your hands, kissing his brow and eyelids and he fought to catch his breath. "Holy fuck," he cursed, finally releasing his dick and letting his hand fall aside, his eyes opening. His gaze looked unfocused as he stared up at you like you hung the stars in the sky. "Holy fuck is right, that was so hot," You smiled, caressing his cheek as he leaned into it like a cat. "Uh, huh, thought I was gonna die with how hard I came," He teased, though it did look like a big one.
"You gonna let me finger ur ass now?" Ino wiggled his eyebrows at you, his teasing demeanor coming back fast. "Hell no, nice try though. If I ever grow a prostate, I'll let you know." Ino pouted dramatically, sitting up to bury his head in the crook of your neck. "Fine… but give me a couple of minutes to recover and I'll eat your pussy real good," His casual dirty words made you clench around nothing as you nodded, cradling his head against you. "Sounds good to me."
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s0dium · 7 months ago
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THAT'S A RED FLAG BABY
JJK MEN AND RED FLAGS
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A/n: Yessirrrr MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Synopsis: Jujutsu men and their red flag in a relationship or generally and how it shows through when they fuck
Characters: Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Yuuta Okkatsu, Sukuna Ryomen, Choso
Warnings: Emotional abuse, narcissism, controlling behavior, dub-con, semi-public sex, spitting, fingering, rough sex, male masturbation, degrading, praise, teasing
~
Gojo Satoru- Narcissist  
Since he was a kid, Gojo has been praised and called many things
The honored one, the strongest, gifted and so on
But what people don't see is behind those beautiful sapphire eyes, is a goddamn narcissist through and through
He thinks, no he knows that he is the best, best at everything
This includes what goes on in bed.
And its not only that, the white-haired fox only cares about himself too in the sheets, abusing his unnatural stamina and using you like a cock sleeve for his own taste
At least he can be nice about it sometimes
Gojo is relentless. Its almost like your his personal cock sleeve, his dick shaping your insides and abusing your cervix despite your choked sobs and whines for him to stop, to simply slow down. He holds the back of your head with his hand, allowing you to look down at the way you two are connected; how he retracts his hips until his tip barely pokes out, admiring the slick coating his shaft before slamming back into you again.
"Ahhh~ P-please Satoru please...."
Gojo rolls his eyes and scoffs. Why were the people that surrounded him always so weak? Even you. It's a good thing you feel like heaven he could almost forgive you.
Tears stream down your face. Every time the tip of his dick rams against your cervix a powerful feeling mixed with pain and pleasure that surges through your body making you tremble and shake. You're losing your mind. Everything is so good, and, God, you can't ignore how handsome Gojo looks right now. His white hair is sticking to his sweaty forehead, and the muscles of his toned abdomen are flexing and unflexing. He is gorgeous, and, boy, he knows it. Even the way your pussy squeezes and spasms around his dick sends more bolts of electric pleasure to dance through your skim.
"Shhhh, just take it 'kay? You're doing so good for me baby." Gojo coos.
Geto Suguru -Controlling
It starts off small, a comment here and there on your choice of friends, a small criticism on where you were going to spend the evening because wouldn't you have much more fun spending it with him?
Then he's starting to pick out outfits for you. Modest but pretty ones for outside but short skimpy clothes for when you're only with him. It even gets to the point where he is controlling your finances, making you only use his credit card, and its not about the money, you can use as much as you want for all he cares. It's about the control, you being helplessly reliant on him.
And Geto has such an easy time getting away with his controlling tendencies, showering you in praises and sweet nothings about how he just wants to protect you. And the way his violet eyes gleam at you, you almost always believe him.
Don't for a second think that he's insecure because it's far from it. The raven-haired man just wants to have you all to himself, he just wants to protect you from the cruel cruel world out there.
"Didn't I tell you to ask me first if you are going to wear an outfit like that?" Geto whispers in your ear but you can barely focus on his words. The curl of his fingers inside you is just too numbing; the way it hits, prods, and massages a spot deep inside your walls that you can only dream about reaching on your own. Geto's fingers are so thick too, almost filling you up as deliciously as his dick does. Almost. "Mmm- I- I, I didn't-" You gasp for air and try to bury your face into your hands. He currently has you against a wall of some bathroom stall but that fact seemed all but lost to you right now. The pleasure was building in your core and fast. Your legs were starting to shake and a numbing electric feeling had taken course throughout your body. You didn't have to open your eyes to know that Geto was smirking.
Suddenly, Goto curls his fingers in a way that deeply presses your g-spot and the dam of pleasure that had built inside you breaks. Your jaw goes slack and your whole body trembles with electricity.
"Didn't expect for you to crack so easily" he chuckles against your ear, and you collapse into his chest. Yuta Okkatsu- Too obsessed
You would think this is a good thing right? You could never love someone too much, but it was different with Yuuta
Sure you had a crush on him, sure you touched yourself to him plenty of times (which Yuuta knew of very well) so the feelings weren't all that unreciprocated
But theres a line, there's a line that Yuta always seems to cross
From taking pictures of you to texting you constantly, christ you even found your panties in his drawer, yuta love was overwhelming.
Yuuta knows that he should wake you up, but he cant bring himself too right now. You just look so beautiful, so perfect under the soft glow of the night sky. Also, he just feels so good right now, Yuuta can barely think so much as speak. "Mmmm-mmm" he whimpers against the pillow, slowly grinding his clothed erection against your bare leg. How would you react if you knew your boyfriend was humping you while you sleep? Would you push him away? No no you're too kind for that, you would probably help him, probably pet his hair and whisper sweet nothings until he finished. Yes, if he knew for a fact that you'd help him when you wake up, what's stopping you from helping you now? Careful not to wake you up, he picks up your hand. It's so small compared to his but wraps so well around his throbbing member. He glides your thumb across his red tip to collect the precum before slowly sliding your hand up and down. The pleasure is immediate. It makes him bury his face into your neck to to press sloppy, wet, hot, and bitten kisses along your skin.
Sukuna Ryomen- Sadist
Where to start with Sukuna. Sukuna is the red flag.
Actually, even that is a complete understatement. Sukuna is straight-up cruel, rather he is a sadist through and through.
Manipulation, degrading, humiliation....although he wouldn't physically abuse you, with emotional abuse he won't hesitate.
You expect compassion, sympathy, and kindness from him? Fat chance. It is hard to see Sukuna being in any relationship at all.
Sukuna certainly doesn't love you, but he sure does love the sex though
Like any good sadist, his sexual pleasure derives from your physical or emotional suffering.
"Aw look at you, fucked you dumb did I?" Sukuna chuckles. A tattooed hand snakes between to your cunt, lightly rubbing your clit before delivering a sharp slap to the nerve.
Your eyes widen and your hips instantly buck up, unintentionally sending his dick deeper into you. The position he has you in is brutal. Both of your legs are thrown over Sukuna's shoulders and pressed against your chest, effectively folding you in half. "Open ya mouth" He orders, but you are too lost in the pleasure that is blooming in your stomach, the pleasure that is making your cunt flutter and squeeze desperately around his fat cock. "I said open." Sukuna delivers a particularly harsh thrust before stilling inside you; keeping the tip of his dick smushed against your cervix. The sudden movement snaps you out of your haze and you obediently widen your mouth letting your tongue hang out. Sukuna lets a glob of spit fall from his lips onto your awaiting tongue. You don't need to be told to swallow, you do so on habit, giving him a soft smile as you do so.
"Fuck, ya so perfect, such a good girl."
Choso- Jealous 
Choso is the type of man who keeps to himself. The type of man to blend in a group or fade into the background.
But that doesn't mean he notices things. In fact, he notices things a bit too well.
Was that your coworker who touched your shoulder? You say that he is just a friend but who should a friend be able to touch you so easily?
He won't hesitate to bring up what he notices either, he says he's not accusing you of anything, that he trusts you, but he totally is.
He hates it when people get to close to his brothers so it posits that he loathes it when it comes to his lover.
How did you get here? How did an argument turn into this?
You want to scream, you want to thrash and tell Choso that he's got it all wrong, that you didn't mean to see your guy friend when you went out to have lunch. It was just a harmless bump-in that turned into a long conversation. Thats it. But the feeling of Choso's dick filling you up, his harsh thrusts and the fucking delicious friction of the drag, Jesus, it's just- it's just so good your mind that your mind is a white sheet.
You are on all fours but you don't know how much longer you can keep the position up. Not with the way he's ramming your pussy from behind.
“You are mine," he grunts out, pumping into you, the length and level of his arousal is brutal. "Mine," he swears, and he pulls you up so your back is pressed against him and you are upright. Choso doesn’t slow his movement though, giving you full, hard thrusts, your breasts bouncing up and down from the harshness of it all.
“You wanna cum? Good, cum."
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malfoys-demigod · 5 months ago
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hii! it’s iluvloganhowlett i’m just on my other acc! could you do a logan fluff where logan has a soft spot for u and lit only u? like for a prompt, scott asks a question and logan answers with some “it’s none of your business” or is j flat out mean where as when you ask the same question minutes later he’s nicer and thorough with his answer.
and can u please make it logan x mutant!reader🥰🥰
Logan Howlett, underrated softie
☆⋆。𖦹°‧★ Logan Howlett x Reader
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A/N: Hi @iluvloganhowlett!! I really appreciate your request and here it is! Enjoy, dear!!
·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·
Winters in upstate New York were exceptionally known for their extreme coldness.
Which of course was no shock that a particular mansion at Westchester County was at -3 degrees celcius, almost reaching at 4 in your keen opinion.
Just being inside made you want to wear a thick full body coat today, wrapped with your favorite scarf and gloves. But you felt silly about that idea, seeing how everyone else was just casually surviving the day with good long sleeved tops. How lucky of them.
Though it was only 8pm, you had the senseless idea of wrapping yourself in your blanket, trying to fall asleep in your bedroom, desparately hoping to sleep through the coldest day of the week.
After a few tosses and turns, feeling the icy breeze sneak into your body, you just knew there was no hope in dozing off. Not with this kind of weather!
You groaned in defeat, sitting up to curse to yourself why you had to feel so, so, so frigid of all days today.
Maybe some instant hot chocolate by the kitchen would help you soothe yourself into sleeping soon.
So you got up, wore an oversized sweater over your thick long sleeved top, placed on your fuzzy slippers, and made your way out of your room to the kitchen.
There were still students around the mansion, either reading books with each other, watching the television by the living room, or playing some board games while having hot beverages and snacks. Hmmm, the smell of hot chocolate from some of them just made you realize that hot chocolate is always a good idea.
Meanwhile over at the kitchen, just a few minutes before you had arrived, Storm was in one of the seats in front of the counter, having her decaffinated coffee, mixing some sugar and some milk with it. Yup, she was one of those who enjoyed the taste of cofffe, even at night, so she has it decaffinated so it won't affect her sleep later.
Scott grabbed a bowl and a box of Lucky Charms cereal from the cupboards and made his way to the fridge, which was being leaned on by Logan, who was having a round of beer.
Scott stood in front of Logan with a serious look on his face, expecting Logan to move. But Logan, who wanted to mess with the man, just stared back at him, flashing a mischievous look. "You should take a picture, it'll last longer."
"Move, asshole," Scott sneered, "I need milk."
Logan continued drinking from his beer, still eyeing scott with the same mischievous look on his face, ignoring his command.
"Oh, Scott, I still have some!" Storm interrupted, saving Scott from possibly wanting to strike Logan, based on his tight grip on his bowl, and now slightly wrinked cereal box.
"Dick," Scott muttered under his breath, moving through Logan, who felt like he won another round of Logan v Scott. That small win was now done being celebrated when you finally arrived into the kitchen.
"Hey guys," you greeted your colleagues, getting some 'heys' from Storm and a slightly disgruntled Scott.
"Hey, doll," Logan recited gently, earning a dear smile from you. He watched you look around the cupboards, noticing your mystified expression as you wandered around each cupboard and cabinets.
You then moved to the fridge, "Sorry, could I just check something inside?" you asked Logan softly with your fingers skimming over each other.
Scott looked up from his meal, watching Logan expose a smile on his mouth, gently moving aside as you opened the fridge, watching you hmph in disappointment.
Scott made his own quiet hmph to himself, seeing Logan's patience with you, to which Storm smiled coyly seeing sparks fly around the tough Wolverine.
"Didn't find what you were looking for, darl?"
"Yeah, I think the kids got the last instant hot chocolate powders for themselves," you frowned lightly in disappointment. "It's okay though," admitting in defeat. You were starting to make your way out, looking at the doorframe, "I think I'll just-"
"Hold on there, bub," Logan's instruction brought you to a halt. You turned around to see a now quiet Logan, whose eyes were looking into, what he thought, were puppy eyes. "Instant powders are for kids," he continued, his eyes quickly scanning around the room as if he was about to make use of the information around him.
"How about I make you some real hot chocolate, huh?"
While Scott and Storm turned to each other, exchanging unsure looks, you let out a small laugh in disbelief, which determined Logan to actually pull it off.
"You?"
You didn't want to sound mean about it, I mean, anyone can make hot chocolate. It wasn't rocket science, or some gourmet dish, but never in your wildest dreams did you think that Logan Howlett, the man who only went to the kitchen to bring out his secret stash of beer, would make you hot chocolate?
But the way you asked didn't matter to Logan, as he got whole milk, chocolate, whipped cream, and heavy cream from the fridge, walked to another counter for powdered sugar, and expresso powder, which he directly got a teaspoon of from Storm's side to which she didn't say anything about, since she herself, was inclined to watch Logan act as if he was someone else she didn't know.
Logan was now whisking together his ingredients in a saucepan that you helped get.
"How long should these be over the heat?" you tip-toed, wanting to see over Logan's shoulder's as he was perfectly centered in front of the saucepan.
"Till you see small bubbles appear around the edges," he replied, looking over at you tip-toe, which he wanted to melt at just seeing.
He then stirred in chopped chocolate, waiting for it to melt, and carefully placing the sauce to low heat, stating to you that 'it's needed for the chocolate to melt completely.'
His little moment of domestic fluff with you and him in the kitchen was put to a pause when a voice from somewhere behind him got his unfortunate attention.
"Since when did you have time to learn all this?," Scott teased, receiving a nudge from the elbow from Storm who shook her head.
"Shut the hell up, prick," Logan said, not even facing a smirking Scott.
Logan then served the drinks in two mugs for him and for you, of course topping them with lots of whipped cream. More than excited to try Logan's hot chocolate, you immediately took a careful sip, tasting the intense, rich, and absolute heaven which had to be the most decadent hot chocolate ever.
"Oh my god," you said, closing your eyes with satisfaction, "It feels like I'm in one of those Parisian cafes, drinking the best hot chocolate there."
It was as if every sip made you forget about how cold and freezing you were just earlier, and seeing you look so content with the drink made Logan want to beam, but of course realized Scott and Storm were, annoyingly still around.
"Glad you like it, Y/N," he thanked, seeing you turn to face him with a curious look on your face.
"I do want to ask..." you hung back the question, "When did you have time to learn how to perfect this? I know you didn't just learn this overnight."
It was a genuine question because despite living since the 1800s or so, it was not exactly like Logan had free time to cook around or whip up hot chocolate, right? This man went through a lot in his life, and would he really just use his spare time investing in something like.. hot chocolate?
Logan looked down, with a humble and small smile on his face.
"My mother..," he first started, "When I was young and while my dad was out, she would make hot chocolate on cold days, or even any day for that matter."
There was so much value you had, appreciating the little yet deeply personal story behind your now, favorite drink. You knew Logan was never an open book with anyone. It was more of a shut and locked up book with the key below the bottom of the ocean for no one to pick up.
But the way he had just been with you tonight so far, was like, he was giving you the key for you, and literally you only.
"So you rememberd her exact recipe?" you inquired more, with a sparkle that Logan saw in your eyes.
"Nah, not exactly," he said, slightly timid with a grin, " 'course I adapted to today's ingredients like instant whipped cream, but it's something like what she made before."
"Do you think you could make some for me again tomorrow?" You genuinely requested, which made Logan more or less, want to fold and do as you say in a heartbeat.
But of course, he wanted to slightly play it cool. "Don't see why not," nodding in agreement.
"Good, I'm gonna bring this with me back to my room now," you announced, "Thanks so much, Logan, good night!"
You then smiled at Scott and Storm, waving them goodbye as you walked away from them, leaving them to smirk like children at Logan.
"That was cute." Storm said, bringing Logan back to his usual, serious look.
"I'd love to try some tomorrow too, Logan," Scott tried to fake his genuine statement at the same time trying not to burst a laughter out of him.
Without any words this time, Logan, holding his mug of hot chocolate in hand, passed Scott with one claw out from his other hand, slicing his cereal box in half.
"Asshole!" Scott yelled, now trying to pick up the pieces of cereal as Logan walked out of the kitchen took a sip from his mug, indulding in the fact that,
A. he made another successful hot chocolate in his life
B. he gets to make it again for you tomorrow
C. he hopes to make it for you for as long as winter's still there.
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scorpiosbite · 1 month ago
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when actress!reader and drew met for the first time
𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 ────୨ৎ──── it's your first time in LA, so when your new friend madelyn cline invites you to a club in downtown LA with the rest of her obx castmates, who are you to decline.
𝜗𝜚 pairing: actress!reader x drew starkey
author’s note: this takes place in mid-2024 after the filming of obx 4 wrapped.
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you stared at your reflection in the luxurious bathroom mirror, your makeup was light and your hair was straightened and open. yet you felt a bit like that saying 'a pig in makeup.' dressed in a sheer, white, long-sleeve top, a black lace bra underneath, clearly showing through, and black shorts paired with itno biker boots. your fingers, filled with chrome heart rings, sliver earrings of various jewellery brands covering your ears, yet your neck is still bare.
you sigh heavily, being racked with anxiety like this before going out was common for you. there was a reason you barely left your london home except for work. and now, here in LA for the first time and without mimi, your best friend who is the polar opposite of you and the only person who is capable of making you feel calm in these situations, you feel as though you are going to make a fool out of yourself. it's not like you don't want to meet madelyn and the rest of the obx cast, you really do, and you want to make a good impression which is why your anxiety feels worse than normal. the world sees you as this confident enigma, but only you experience this feeling of dread weighing down on your chest that tells you that you aren’t capable of more difficult roles, that you don’t deserve the fame and love given to you, that you aren’t hardworking or beautiful enough, that if people saw the real you, they would hate what they see. this feeling, this voice, is the reason you’re so recluse.
but before you can spiral any further your phone rings. madelyn's name lights up the screen. you pick up, clearing your throat, trying to settle the shake in your voice to hide your nervousness. "hi, maddie" you can hear the smile on her face through her response. "hi, y/n!! are you ready? i'm on the way to your hotel, i'll be there in like 10 minutes." the excitement in her voice eases your anxiety. maddie had dmed you on instagram a few months ago after seeing an interview of yours where you named outer banks as the show you watch during your free time while filming and since that moment the two of you became fast friends. so when you told her you were going to be in LA for the first time for work, she enthusiastically invited you to come hang out with her and her castmates. "yea, i'm ready, i'll come down to the lobby." you end the call and then rush around the room grabbing your bag and filling it with everything you may need, before giving your face and outfit a final check in the mirror before making your way to the lobby.
madelyn texted you that her car was parked outside the entrance when you reached the lobby and the hotel staff let you know that there was no paparazzi outside so you walked outside where madelyn’s driver had the backseat door open for you, you thanked him and hopped into the car and he walked back to the drivers seat and and started driving. madelyn’s smiling face greeted you. “hi, wow you look fucking stunning. it’s so good to finally meet you!” you gave her a bright smile in return. “thank you, you look unreal, and yes it’s so good to finally meet you too!” you gave her a tight hug. “fuck, y/n what perfume do you use, you smell amazing.” “aw, thank you! it’s the kayali vanilla one, babes.” madelyn laughed “what?” you gave her a confused laugh “ the ‘babes’ you’re so british!” you laughed and nodded “i forget that there’s terms we use that aren’t common here.”
madelyn pulled out her phone and started checking something, so you took the time to look out the window and take in LA during the night. “ok so chase is there, so is laci, madison, jd, austin and drew.” you felt your breath hitch at the mention of his name. “drew’s there?” madelyn gave you a knowing smirk. “yea, he’s coming.” you raised a brow. “what was that smirk for?” she shrugged and gave you a downward smile “you’ll see.” before you could question her further, the car came to a stop in front of the club. “we’re here, miss cline.” madelyn’s driver spoke up from his seat and then stepped out of the car coming around and opening the door for the both of you, you hopped out first and thanked him and waited while madelyn got out. she thanked him and then he drove off.
madelyn interlocked your hands together “excited?” you laughed at her excitement. “yea, let’s get a shot in me.” the atmosphere of the club was electric, the people around you were dancing and having the time of their lives. seeing everyone around you, you felt the anxiousness start to melt from your body. madelyn was looking around, trying to find her friends her hand still holding yours. “oh! i see them! let’s go!” she dragged you behind her, coming to a stop at the end of the table. everyone greeted you with bright smiles “guys! this is y/n. but you all already know that” she said in a singsong voice. “we’re all big fans of you.” she added as she turned to you. you smiled shyly with everyone’s attention on you. “hi.” you gave a little wave. your eyes immediately locked with drew’s, even sitting down he towered over everyone. you felt your breathe hitch and your limbs numb. you were suddenly pulled into hugs one by one by everyone else, you muttered greetings but it felt like an out of body experience as your eyes refused to stray from drew’s.
drew felt like he couldn’t breathe, he had spent so many months dreaming of this moment when he would finally see you in person. and all he could think was that the screen could never do justice to you. your energy, your beauty in real life was unmeasurable. “hi, i’m drew.” you smiled at him, a saccharine smile that made his heart stutter. “i know.” you took a seat next to him at the table while austin and jd went to get shots for the table “so y/n, what do you think of LA?” madison asked “it’s quite different to london.” you laughed. you were having trouble focusing as drew’s thigh kept bumping into yours. you thought about how badly you wanted him to use his size and strength against you. if he would throw you and bend you to his will, you clenched your thighs together at the thought.
jd and austin returned with the shots and everyone’s energy immediately skyrocketed. you all grabbed a shot. “let’s have a good fucking night! whoo!!” chase yelled and you all clinked your glasses and downed your drinks. everyone winced but you weren’t phased “what!! how did you not feel that!” austin yelled over the music that had somehow gotten louder. “that was straight tequila!” you shrugged with a smug smile on your face “i’m british, darling, you americans can’t keep up!” you laughed. drew beside you, had a look on his face that was somehow both impressed and turned on. “oh my god! i fucking love this song.” you exclaimed beginning to feel the alcohol travel through your system, taking with it the inhibitions that often consumed you. “dance with me?” madelyn asked and you nodded your head. she grabbed your hand but before she could drag you behind her you turned your head and mouthed to drew “watch me.”
drew’s throat felt constricted, his pants were becoming impossibly tight. you were grinding on madelyn and he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. you’re mesmerising and he had to have you. it felt as though time had slowed down and the two of you were the only people in the crowded club. “come on man, let’s go dance.” jd clapped drew on the shoulder. he got up and began making his way to the centre of the dance floor, his eyes still locked on you.
your eyes were closed and you were completely lost in the music when you felt madelyn whisper in your ear from behind. “drew’s walking over, don’t tell him i told you this, but he’s into you.” your eyes snapped open but before you could question her, drew was standing in front of you, towering over everyone in the club. everyone else present faded away as you took in his presence. he leaned down to whisper in your ear. “wanna dance on me like that?” you smirked, tilting your head up, slightly. “you wish.” he smirked down at you. the alcohol you had consumed throughout the night made you bold and carefree and you used it’s effects on you to the fullest. you wrapped your arms around his neck and he brought his hands to your waist, covering the small of your back.
drew’s head felt dizzy, you smelt so good he wanted to drag his tongue across every inch of the surface of your body. he leaned down to your neck inhaling the scent of your perfume and pheromones. “fuck, you smell amazing.” you smirked “yeah? want a taste?” drew threw his head back his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. “fuck, y/n, don’t say shit like that.” you leaned up on your tippy toes so that you could whisper in his ear. “why not?” you came back down so that you could gaze back up at him, your eyes big and wide, innocent, like you weren’t thinking all the disgusting things you wanted him to do to you. “you don’t wanna fuck me, drew?”
you giggled as you unlocked the door to your hotel room, drew, hot on your heels. as soon as the door was open drew picked you up and you giggled drunkenly, wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. drew’s hands came to grip on your thighs squeezing at the flesh as he devoured your lips with his, teeth and tongue clashing. you moaned into the kiss, your hands scratching at his buzzed head. drew reached out behind you and pushed the door shut. the sound of it echoing through the room but the both of you couldn’t care less. your lace panties were soaked all the way through and you could feel his cock straining through his pants, drew broke the kiss. “you feel what you do to me, baby?” you hummed in agreement already feeling fucked out even though he hadn’t even properly touched you yet “been hard from the moment i saw you walk through the door.”
“need you so bad, drew” you whined, not even caring if you sounded desperate, he was more desperate than you anyway. “yeah? need me that bad, baby? need me in that pretty little pussy?” you nodded, biting your lip “wanna be full of you.” drew groaned “fuck, you trying make cum in my pants y/n?” you giggled. drew began to make his way to the bed, with you still in his arms. he dropped you onto the plush bed and you bounced on the mattress. “are you sober enough to do this? cause i don’t want you to regret this in the morning.” you shook you head frantically. “no, i want you, i’m just tipsy, i told you i have a high tolerance.” he laughed, a low rumble that caused your core to flutter. “that you did, baby.” you spread your legs open to make room for him and he began to unzip your boots and pull off your socks before kicking off his own shoes.
drew kneeled on the edge of the bed, leaning down to attach himself to your neck, biting, licking, and sucking at the skin. your moans were breathy, almost sigh like at the feeling of his lips. his hands brushed at your waist, tugging at the hem of your sheer top. “let me see you.” he pulled it off, messing up your hair as it went over your head. he then moved to your shorts tugging them down your legs, leaving you in your matching black, lace bra and black, lace thong. “fuck, you’re unreal, i can’t believe you’re here right now.” you giggled at his words. “you’re sweet.” he chuckled and he leaned back down to kiss you. “yeah? i’m sweet, baby?” “mhmm.” you nodded as he connected your lips together again. you kissed him back with ferocity. tugging his bottom lip with your teeth, your hands stroked his covered chest, and you broke the kiss, your lips still so close that you could feel his breath on your face. “take off your clothes.”
drew groaned and his face dropped into your neck, before he stood up off the bed and pulled his shirt over his head, moving to his pants unbuttoning them and then pushing them down his legs, leaving him in just his boxers. your mouth hung open when you saw the size of his bulge through his boxers and the wet patch forming on the material. you sat up on the bed and tugged him closer to you by the waistband of his boxers, licking his clothed bulge. “poor baby, so hard, do you need me to help you?” drew whimpered, nodding his head. “need you so bad, pretty girl.” you chuckled, “want me so bad don’t you, drew?” drew’s hips bucked in response a look of pure desperation on his pretty face, oh, you were gonna ruin him. leave him a mess so that the only person he would ever want was you.
you pushed down his boxers freeing his length. his massive cock snapped up, slapping his stomach, the red tip leaking pre cum. your mouth watered at the sight of him, he’s gorgeous. “you’re so pretty and big, drew.” drew whimpered “fuck, you gonna suck me off, gorgeous?” you hummed, your hand coming up to the base of his cock, stroking languidly. “you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” drew groaned, his hand curling into a fist by his side, like he was trying desperately not to force your mouth onto him. he opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything, you parted your lips and began leaving open mouth kisses on his tip. alternating between sucking and kissing, drew groaned from above you, his hand finally coming up to tangle in your hair, never pushing or pulling just resting. such a gentleman you thought, but you wanted him to snap, to use you.
you breathed through your nose and then took his entire length into your mouth, your nose pushing into the trimmed patch of hair at the base of his cock. drew let out a loud groan that reverberated through the room. “fuck! y/n!” you hummed and then swallowed around his length, your tongue still rubbing the underside of his cock, before you pulled off of him to catch your breath. but before you could resume your ministrations, drew placed a hand under your chin, tilting your head up. you looked up at him with a fucked out expression and he look even more fucked out than you. “i’m gonna need to prep you, so get on your back for me, baby.” you giggled excitedly, drew reached behind you and unclipped your bra with ease and practised skill before you laid down onto the soft mattress.
your hair splayed around you like a halo, your cheeks flushed with a daze in your eyes as you gazed up at drew. he leaned over you on the bed, one hand placed by your head and the other stroking your thigh. “i’m gonna take you out after this.” you raised a brow, “oh yeah? what makes you think i’m gonna say yes?” drew smirked at you, he did love a challenge. “alright, if i make you cum three times, you have to go out with me. deal?” you hummed, mulling over the proposition. “you’re on, starkey.” drew leaned down and began kissing and biting your neck, then your shoulders then finally your tits, sucking at your nipple and squeezing the other one with his large palm. “been thinking about feeling these since the moment i saw them on my tv.” he mumbled against the flesh. you could only respond in moans. “fuck, drew!”
drew continued his way down till he was face to face with your lace covered soaked core, he nuzzled his face into your clothed pussy, inhaling deeply. “fuck, you smell amazing.” you whined impatiently, bucking your hips. drew chuckled and hooked his fingers into the band of your thong, dragging it down slowly, the material clung to your centre a sticky film connecting your cunt and the fabric as he pulled it down and off your legs, dropping the fabric onto his pile of clothes on the floor. “god, you’re so wet, baby.” drew said breathlessly. “who’s got you so wet, huh? tell me.” your cheeks flushed in embarrassment “you, drew, i’m so wet, just for you.” drew hummed appreciatively “such a pretty pussy, I knew your cunt would be gorgeous, just like the rest of you.”
before you could say anything in response, drew dove into your cunt, eating you like a man starved. his tongue flicked at your clit, as he spread your lips open with his fingers baring you for him to consume. you gasped and whined, your moans coming out broken. then he sucked your clit into his mouth and his long finger prodded at your entrance. your hips bucked and your thighs squeezed at his head. but drew just held your legs open with one hand as he doubled down on his efforts, he slipped in another finger, thrusting with fervour and you thought you were seeing stars, you had never had a man eat you out like this before. it was like drew was born to live between your legs, like he was made just for you. as he sped up his movements you felt the tightening band in your stomach about to snap. “fuck! drew! shit! i’m gonna cum!” your orgasm tore through you with a rage, as you came with a shout of his name. your back arched off the bed and your legs shook around drew’s head, thighs squeezing him. your puffy clit throbbed and your slick walls pulsating around his fingers.
drew detached himself from your abused cunt, slotting himself between your spread legs, your body was still trembling. “that’s one, baby” you could only muster a whine in response as drew grabbed the base of his cock stroking a few quick times, before slapping the head of his cock against your swollen cunt. “fuck, wait, i don’t have a condom.” you shook your head. “don’t care ‘m on birth control, wanna feel you, drew.” you said, your voice full of your need for him. drew groaned his head bowing forward, as if his was in prayer. his voice conveying his all consuming desire for you. “you’re gonna be the death of me.”
drew smeared his pre cum all over your cunt, like he was trying to mark you as his. then he pushed the tip in, your mouth hung open as a gasp escaped your plush, swollen lips. it felt as though he was spitting you open. drew stopped as your brows furrowed and your perfect face scrunched up, mouth still open. he was right, you look exactly as how you did in your sex scene. but seeing you now, in real life, in front of him, as the cause of your pleasure, the feeling was indescribable. he knew in that moment that he lived for you. to be the source of all your joy. you shook your head “no, don’t stop, i want it to hurt, i want to be able to feel you tomorrow.” he couldn’t speak, drew swore that no woman could every make him feel like you did. he pushed all the way in bottoming out, he didn’t give you any time to adjust to his size, pounding into your tight cunt with ardour. your moans and whines came out strangled, your face flushing.
drew’s hand trailed your thigh, grabbing the plump flesh, so tight that you knew that he would leave hand prints, his cock slammed into your walls and he looks so pretty above you, bottom lip bit under his pearly teeth, in effort to keep his groans at bay. sweat gathering at his forehead, that you wanted to lick off, pretty brows furrowed together. you were gripping him like a vice and he knew that he wasn’t going to last long. he brought his thumb to your throbbing clit. rubbing quick circles on the bundle of nerves, you threw you head back exposing your neck as you felt your second orgasm of the night creep onto you. “shit, baby, prettiest girl in the world, fucked out on my cock. you don’t know how long i’ve been dreaming of this.” your tits bounced with each slap of his hips against yours, his heavy balls banging against your ass, the sting adding to your pleasure.
“holy fuck, drew!” your body convulses from your second climax, tight walls clenching hard around drew’s thick cock, he pulled out quickly, flipping you onto your knees as your face buried into the mattress. you panted heavily as he pushed back into you from behind. large palms gripping onto your hips. he picked up his pace right where he left it giving you no time to gather yourself. strong hips pounding against your perfect ass, one hand left your hips that he trailed down your back to your head gripping your hair, turning your head to the side so you could watch him over your shoulder. but you struggled to keep your eyes open.
drew was struggling not to cum, he was nothing if not a man of his word, so no matter how hard your velvet walls clenched around him, no matter how perfect the sight before him was, he had to see you again. so he wasn’t going to lose his chance by fucking cumming too quickly like a teenage boy. “best fucking pussy i’ve ever had.” he praised and you squealed in response, you couldn’t form coherent thoughts anymore, let alone words. the only thing you could think of was drew, and how he was splitting you apart on his big cock. the angle of his thrusts hitting that sweet spot inside of you. “fuck! ‘m gonna cum, baby!” you cried out and drew whimpered in relief, he was teetering on the edge and the thought of having to hold on for any longer made him feel like he was going to collapse. “yeah? gonna give me number three, baby?” you pushed your ass back into him matching his thrusts as you whined loudly. drew was hypnotised as your red cheeks bounced on his pelvis, his hand leaving its place on your hip to smack down on the plump flesh, once, twice, then three times, watching it jiggle. “fuck, please rub my clit!” drew obeyed immediately bending at hip and reaching around you so that his long fingers could rub at your pulsing clit with vehemence.
“i’m cumming!” your body shook and your eyes squeezed shut as tears rolled down your eyes, you felt this wetness exploding out of you but you couldn’t focus on it, drew groaned from behind you his hips stuttering as he came with a loud moan of your name his cum pushing into your cervix. he pulled out of you and you felt the mixture of your fluids seeping out of your pussy. drew took two of his fingers and gathered the mixture and pushed it back into your sensitive cunt, you whined in response, collapsing onto your back it’s only then did you see the mess you had caused on the expensive sheets of the hotel bed. “you squirted. that’s so fucking hot.” you felt boneless, completely spent. “ever done that before?” you shook your head no “mm mm.” drew’s face was completely fucked out and you were sure you didn’t look much different. “hold on, baby, i’m gonna clean you up, ok?” you simply nodded, too tired to speak. drew walked to the bathroom and came back with a wet towel, which he used to wipe between your legs and over your sensitive cunt, before chucking the cloth somewhere on the floor, then collapsing next to you on the bed.
drew gathered you into his arms tugging you close to him, his arm under your head and the other around your waist and you snuggled your face into the crevice of his neck and shoulder. your hand coming up to rest on his chest and your legs tangling with his. you have never felt so content in your life. drew spoke in a hushed tone. “so, that was three, can i take you out now?” you giggled in response “yeah, can i tell you a secret?” drew was tracing patterns on your back. “what’s that, baby?” you smiled against his skin “i was gonna say yes anyway, but i wanted to make you work for it.” drew chuckled. “you cheeky minx.” “can i tell you a secret?” you nodded “i would’ve done anything you told me to.”
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TAGLIST: @sunnybunnyy2 @percysley @wearemadeofstardust0 @idgasb @pinkpantheris @emmaaas-posts @grace-sully @chloeisbunny
god that took me so fucking long to write but i hope it’s not disappointing. thank you for all the love on the previous parts my lovelies!!
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casdeans-pie · 5 months ago
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The truly insane levels of sexual tension if Dean had been in a situation where he needed to pull Cas's angel blade out of his sleeve to help them escape somewhere. Their wrists have been tied together by whatever monster-of-the-week caught them, so Cas can't catch it falling or reach into his own sleeve.
But Dean can.
Dean's fingers graze the back of Cas's hand and glance off his wrist as he reaches in. They hold really intense really weird eye contact the whole time Dean slides his hand slowly up there.
The moment is just. so much.
Anyway Dean slides the blade free of Cas's sleeve while both of them forget how to breathe, Cas's eyes flutter shut on their own and break the eye contact, Dean uses the blade to cut loose their bonds, they save the day, and the first thing Dean says to Cas when he hands his Angel Blade back is "So how does it work anyway? One second there's nothing there and then, bam, angel blade in my hand."
Cas does his best to explain pocket dimensions, angelic intention, extensions of the angelic being... and Dean clicks his fingers like he's got it. He proudly announces, "It's a Mary Poppins bag."
Cas feels like he's had conversation whiplash and manages a confused, "What?"
"Your sleeve. It's like the bag from Mary Poppins."
Cas just had one of the most profound and intimate experiences in his angelic existence and Dean is making silly pop culture references about his sleeve and Cas has never wanted to kiss him more
3K notes · View notes
elflutter · 2 months ago
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— i'll love you forever (a momma, you'll be)
kinktober 03 → ruts & breeding kink
in a rut!logan x f!reader
synopsis
You’d be lying if you said you haven’t been waiting for this day: Logan at his most fertile; you at yours. Even though you’ve talked about it, stopped your birth control for it, an an unspoken question still lingers in his gaze. You’re sure about this? You really want a baby with an old man like me?
wordcount: 2.7k | crossposted on ao3 | fic notifs
tags/warnings below the cut!
tags/warnings: explicit (18+ mdni), worst wolverine, light a/b/o dynamics (ruts), breeding kink, daddy kink, light dom/sub, age gap (reader is 25+), logan calls himself old man, pet names (incl. sweetheart, baby, momma), unprotected p i v, creampie, fingering, mention of a safeword (not used), reader is ovulating, mentions of pregnancy, pussy pronouns (she/her), logan can pick up reader (but he can lift up to 800 lbs so), logan calls reader's pussy his, no use of y/n. i'm sure i've forgotten something, please let me know if i have!
a/n: idk what came over me with this one omfg. some of this filth was definitely influenced by some other amazing fics i've read this kinktober. the way you want to by @eupheme and baby fever by @silverskyeline come to mind specifically! please go give them some love if you enjoy this one, hehe. and thank you @sceletaflores for hyping up all my depraved ideas, ily
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Your boyfriend’s mutation provides certain… perks to your relationship. Firstly, he’s strong enough to pick you up like you weigh less than nothing. And with the healing factor, his refractory period is practically non-existent. But, you think your favorite part of his mutation might be the one on display right now.
Logan’s pupils are blown wide the moment he walks through the door to your shared apartment. The front of his flannel is dark with sweat, a common sight after another long day at the construction job Wade helped secure for him a couple years back. But, from the bulge is already visible through worn jeans, you think all that sweat might be from something else, too. Something that sends electricity shooting down your spine, because you’ve been waiting for this.
Logan clicks the door shut, twisting the lock behind him without looking away from you, his stare heavy and heated. He pulls off his work boots like he cant rid himself of them fast enough, and you’re surprised the well broken-in leather doesn’t rip under his ironclad grip. The thought of that grip on your body, those fingers pressed into the plush of your thighs, has warmth pooling in your core— thick and sweet, like honey in your veins. Heavy and intoxicating, like the whiskey on his breath when you first met.
His biceps bulge beneath rolled-up sleeves as he reaches down to adjust his hard-on, and he prowls to where you sit on the couch, body twisted so you can keep your eyes on him. When Logan finally reaches you in the living room, you’re certain you’ve soaked through the lace of your panties. You straighten out your torso to face forward as he kneels in front of you, spreading your legs to accommodate his broad form.
His voice is as rough and dark as the denim of his work jeans when he finally speaks. His grip hard on your ass, just how you like it. Fingers dig into the thin fabric of your leggings as he pulls your body to the edge of the couch.
“Rut’s here, sugar.” He buries his nose against your hair, breathing in deep— the warm vanilla of your shampoo mixing with the heady scent of your arousal. He speaks into your hair, like he wants to bury himself there. “And I could fuckin’ smell you from the hallway. Drippin’ for me, huh?” He nuzzles in even deeper then, indulging.
You wait for his nose to pick it up— that you’re fertile. You should be, if you’re tracking correctly. You pray that you are. You think you must be ovulating, from the throbbing ache you’ve felt all day. Aching for Logan, for his thick girth to split you open, to be full of him. For that moment, as he empties within you, of soul-deep connection.
When Logan groans against you, the sound a broken thing, your racing heart kicks up a beat. He’s scented it; you’re certain. Logan pulls back, his large hands moving to cradle your face with a gentleness that sends a pang through your chest.
“Baby, are you—” He searches your eyes for an answer, as if he can peer into them and see your desires.
Even during these ruts, when his body burns with an ache only for you, to fuck and to fill, to claim, you call the shots. You tell him to stop, that it’s too much, and he will. He’s still Logan, always in control of himself. It’s not unlike how your sex drive changes, during your own cycle. And, shit, you’re weak for it. Always have been.
You’d be lying if you said you haven’t been waiting for this day: Logan at his most fertile; you at yours. Even though you’ve talked about it, stopped your birth control for it, an an unspoken question still lingers in his gaze.
You’re sure about this? You really want a baby with an old man like me?
You nod; the sting in your chest drowning out the ache in your core for a moment. One day, you hope, he’ll see that you want everything he could possibly give you.
“Yeah, baby. It’s time, I’m ovulating.” Leaning forward, you press your forehead against his, fingers moving to rub gentle circles in his hair. “Please, Lo. Want your baby.”
His lips crash into yours, then, before he’s scooping you up. You hook your feet behind his back as he carries you to the bed, peppering you with kisses and breathy murmurs in your ear.
“Alright, sweetheart, want me to fuck a baby into that sweet little cunt?” His teeth are on your earlobe, hot breath grazing each of his love-bites. You’ve melted into putty in his hands when he finally sets you down on the plush surface of the bed, mind a haze of lust and longing. “Gonna look so good with my baby in you, my little momma.”
Your cheeks grow hot, his words nestling through your mind and finding a home in the dull throbbing between your legs. His name escapes your lips in a needy whine. Before you can say anything else, he flips you onto your stomach. His grip finds your hips, pulling up until your ass is in the air right at the edge of the bed; face buried in the covers.
Logan’s hands move to cup the swell of your bottom as he stands behind you, humming in satisfaction.
“Such a pretty little present, comin’ home to her every day.” Your face heats as you realize he’s not talking to you, but your pussy. “She’s fucking drippin’ for me, isn’t that right?”
All you can manage is a nod and a pathetic whimper, words lost somewhere in the haze of desire.
His palms brush up your back, until he reaches out to grab one of your breasts, his other hand supporting his upper body as he leans over you until you feel his hot breath against your ear.
“Already cock drunk, Momma? Haven’t even touched you yet.”
“L- Logan, please—” you keen. You don’t even have the presence of mind to be embarrassed about your desperation. You feel so achingly empty— just need his cock in your pussy; his come deep and warm inside your womb. The pet-name plays in your mind on repeat. Momma. Momma. Momma.
The image of walking around in a few months, full with his child, and everyone will know who you belong to. Who did this to you. He’ll make you face the mirror above the dresser while he stuffs you full of his come, night after night, whispering how good you look now that he put a baby in you.
He doesn’t move his lips from where they brush against your ear. “Gonna unwrap my present now. Wanna see that pretty pussy. Know she needs some attention, doesn’t she?”
You nod desperately. Suddenly, he stands up straight again, and before you can even protest at the loss of his body heat pressed up against yours, you hear his claws unsheathe with a snikt.
The claws— another favorite aspect of your boyfriend’s mutation in bed. You never knew ruined clothes would get you so damn wet. But it triggers a primal satisfaction deep within you whenever Logan rips through your leggings, your panties, anything keeping the two of you apart. You’ve invested in owning several pairs of the same cheap leggings at any given time, so Logan doesn’t have to worry about replacing the garments he destroys.
He tugs his claws through your leggings and underwear until they lie in pieces beneath you on the bed, and you whine as the cold air of the room grazes where you throb for him. Logan would usually tease you until you were a sobbing mess beneath him, making you drip through the gusset of ruined panties, grinding against your clothed slit. Then, he would make you fall apart on his mouth, then on his fingers, then make you beg, before he’d finally sheathe himself within you.
You thank whatever higher power exists in the multiverse— you think you remember Wade mention someone called Marvel Jesus?— that Logan could only taunt you with one or two lewd comments before he is ripping at your clothes and stepping out of his jeans, shirt tossed aside, to line himself up at your weeping entrance.
Logan is still standing on the floor behind the bed while your ass is swaying in the air where he’s positioned you at the edge, begging for attention. When the fat head of his cock brushes against your puffy folds, heat blooms beneath each place he teases. You can’t help how your neglected cunt clenches around nothing; desperate for something— anything to ease the throbbing ache. Logan grinds his hardness against you— the tip rubbing at your clit has you keening before he slips two fingers into your slick heat.
Every sense is overwhelmed as you feel him enveloping you in his body— his cock teasing at your clit. His breath hot in your ear. One arm between your bodies, fingers curling deep inside. The other, resting on the bed beside your head. All you can feel is Logan, Logan, Logan, all over.
“Gotta get my pussy ready,” his words brush against the shell of your ear. “Ain’t that right, sweetheart?”
Your eyes scrunch shut, the image of how you’d look with Logan’s cock buried within you playing in the darkness of your vision— hips slamming into your ass. Balls making soft plap plap plaps as they slap against your swollen nub. Thinking of Logan, his body on fire with his need to claim you— to breed you. Filling you with his come until your womb is flooded with it. Imagining how you’ll grow plump with his child. You can’t be blamed for the lewd response slips out of you in response to his question.
“Yes, Daddy—” the last word is whined out before you can stop yourself. Cheeks heat, as you realize what you’ve called him. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought of it before. His fingers speed within you, curling against the little textured spot inside that Logan knows so well it’s like he owns it.
“Fuck, baby,” Logan pants, his hips grinding to match the pace of his hand. “You’re gonna make me a daddy. You want that, baby?”
His words are rough against your ear— letting out a little hum as you sink even deeper in the haze of pleasure, tension winding tight in your gut.
“Say it.”
The command in his voice sends a shiver down your spine.
Your own voice wobbles, sounding small and pathetic, as you eek out a response that is little more than a whine, “W-wanna make you a daddy!”
“Attagirl.”
A feral smile against your ear, as his possessive praise alights sparks within you. Somehow, Logan plunges his fingers even deeper, then. His hips never slow where they grind against your folds, cockhead notching against your clit just right, and suddenly that coiling tension releases with a snap.
Your climax hits you, legs quaking as warmth spreads out from your core, until you can feel it wash through your limbs. The fingers in your cunt work you through the pleasure, slowing as you pant against the bedsheets.
Standing tall behind you again, you don’t have time to mourn the loss of Logan’s fingers before he positions himself at your slit.
His voice, gentle, when he speaks before slipping inside. “Remember your word, darlin’?”
Your cheeks heat. He always asks that, when he’s about to fuck you into the mattress until you can’t remember your own name. He’s especially careful to remind you of it when he’s in a rut. You nod, telling him the word you can always say if it gets too much. Apple, and he’ll stop.
His palms cup your ass possessively, splaying his fingers wide to hold as much as he can. “You ready to be a momma?”
You nod your assent.
Logan clicks his tongue, and you can hear the smug smile in his voice. “Use your words for Daddy.”
His words are firm, smug, and for a moment you think he might be making fun of you. But you can tell he’s desperate in the way he pushes the tip of his cock inside you before you can respond. You never thought you’d hear Logan call himself daddy, and it turns you on way more than it should.
“Ready to be a momma, Lo, fuck,” you swear as his weeping head pushes past your puffy folds and into your swollen cunt.
It seems that your words snapped the last of his restraint, finally allowing his base urges to take over. For him to claim you how you’ve both ached for since he crossed the threshold into your shared apartment.
He pushes the rest of the way into you, hissing through his teeth as his hips finally meet the plush of your ass. When he starts thrusting, it’s a rough, feral thing. His fingers dig into your hips, pulling you back to meet him with every thrust. You’re a rag doll in his arms, ass up and on display, face buried as you moan into the sheets.
Logan looks down at you from where he stands, watching his thick length disappear into your tight little hole. When he speaks, his voice comes out in a growl. He can’t help it, with the image of you— fucked out and ruined beneath him. He plans to keep you in this bed, putting his sweet little pussy to use until he can be certain it took.
“Look so fuckin’ good like this, sugar. Lettin’ your old man fill your tight little hole. Gonna keep you full all night, gonna feel my come leakin’ out for days.”
All you can do is whine into the sheets, growing damp with drool as his hips pound against you in hungry thrusts.
“Y’want that, sweetpea? Want daddy’s come?”
Your answer is torn from your throat in a desperate sob.
“Yes!”
Logan’s grip shifts until he’s got one fist full of your tits and one palm flattened against your belly, pulling your body upright against his while he drives his cock up into your weeping cunt. He palms at your breasts, fingers ghosting across your nipples until both are hard and stinging. His grip pinches and soothes, and soon the palm against your stomach moves downward. Then he’s circling your clit, his cock finding that perfect spot inside your walls before plunging deeper until you can feel it brush against your cervix.
Each sensation washes over you, waves lapping against your toes at first. But the water rises higher, higher, higher until you’re drowning in pleasure, your orgasm pulling you under as you come on his cock. You can feel Logan’s words brush against your ear, as you come undone.
“Good fuckin’ girl, coming on your old man’s cock. Lettin’ me do what I need t’ya.” His words are a low snarl when he continues, thrusting harder and harder. “Daddy’s gonna fill you up real good now, gonna put a baby in this tight little pussy.”
You feel your lips form the word yes, over and over, and you think you must be chanting it like a prayer, as his hips snap into you. Logan’s pace grows frenzied as your walls flutter around him in the aftershock of your climax. Reckless, as he pounds into your puffy cunt, your slick leaking down his shaft onto his balls until he finally falls over the edge with a growl. You feel his cock pulse, impossibly deep, filling you with thick ropes of spend. His thrusts slow, but don’t stop, as he fucks his seed further into you.
Logan gingerly lowers the both of you to the bed. You sigh contentedly, finally laying flat on your stomach. Logan cants himself on his elbows above you, still plugged full of his cock.
You can’t help but giggle— he might be into the whole daddy thing even more than you. And that is saying a lot, because you are super into it.
“Lo, that was so fucking hot.”
He chuckles darkly, pulling out before he gathers up the come leaking out of your used cunt and pushes it back inside with his fingers.
“Hope ya don’t think I’m done with you for the night.” Your cheeks heat as you realize he’s growing hard again, his length resting against your ass cheek. “Not even close, bub.”
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peachysunrize · 2 months ago
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Tryst ⥃ Aemond Targaryen
Summary: Aemond walks in on his newly wedded wife changing, surely she is not as temperate as her father when she catches him eyeing her, is she?
Warnings: 18+ mdni! Smut, p in v, kind of enemies to lovers, VELARYON READER!!, reader has silver hair, virging!reader, fingering, reader is angry lol, breeding, lots of scratching and biting, porn no plot! English isn’t my first language<3
Word count: 2.7k+
A/n: I missed my pwp era so here is a short rough smut with our prince Aemond! Missed being unhinged, so here is a fiery reader who is just as crazy as Aemond🤭 Reblogs & comments are always appreciated!💕
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Marrying Daemon’s oldest daughter was not something Aemond could ever imagine, especially since it was his uncle’s idea to offer your hand in marriage; perhaps you were too much of a rebel to be kept on Dragonstone.
He remembers how much you glared at him the day he and his family came to that old wet castle to visit you and your family, and to settle for an agreement so the qualms between the families would vanish — or at least try to make amends somehow.
What he did not expect was for you to be utterly disgusted and angry at him, to the point when he had to show others you were officially courting, you did not even spare him a glance.
He despises you just as much if not more.
But he does not know why he is walking towards your chambers after the supper which you left in a really angry manner, leaving everyone stunned but him. 
It is late as he walks through the dimly lit hallways of the Red Keep, an hour or two before the dead of the night, and his intentions are not clear enough to see why he is taking routes to where your chambers are. If only he knew why, he would try to avoid it at all costs.
He walks with his hands held behind him, chin up with his good eye scanning every tapestry on the wall, every knight who moves past him, in hopes of finding an answer for his intentions.
Your chambers are not much far from his, it would be too scandalous for husband and wife to be sleeping in different rooms, especially since your marriage happens to be the talk of every gathering and whispers of the court — not to anyone’s surprise, Daemon’s oldest daughter and Aemond Targaryen are a match of flames, burning each other until there is nothing but ashes — but you do not care if you are the subject of laughter among these lowly lords and ladies.
Aemond sighs, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his sleeves, trying to keep himself grounded as he walks towards the hallway that ends with a door to your room. He narrows his eye when he finds your knights nowhere to be seen, assuming you must have dismissed them yourself.
He reaches to knock on your door, taking in a deep breath to calm himself down before he rests his hand on the door, watching it slowly crack open. Why would you leave your door unguarded and open? Were you waiting for someone? Were you waiting for him?
With a curious look, he slowly pushes the door open, not wishing to startle you even though he could care less if you jump and scream out of fear, but he gives you this one privilege at least. He winces when the door makes a cracking sound, but he relaxes when he does not hear a sound of displeasure or concern coming from inside — in fact, the low humming catches him by surprise, making his ears perk at the sweet sound of melody filling your room.
When he has the door open enough to peek inside the room, he is taken aback by seeing you slowly disrobing, dropping layer after layer of your clothing on the ground, revealing your bare back to him. 
His lips part in shock, sighing as he takes the newly exposed skin in, watching you drop your clothes on the ground, walking around your nightshift to grab your hairbrush.
Aemond is lost; seeing his wife mildly nude for the first time since he said his vows was something he did not really think about. Every thought he has had about you was always filled with anger, rage, and hatred, but deep inside, he could feel his feelings bubbling with anticipation for something far beyond whatever he had already experienced.
And now, seeing you brush your silver locks with grace makes his chest tighten, but your bare back has his mind turn cloudy and sinful, leaving him breathless as he feels his leather pants tighten.
Subconsciously, he pushes the door open a bit more forcefully than he intended to, making a loud crying sound. He freezes, his eye widening when you scream and turn around, throwing the brush at his face, but he dodges in time, watching in horror as the brush flies to the hallway.
“What is your fucking business here?” You yell at him, reaching for one of your jewelry boxes, holding it up to threaten him with another attack, “Speak, now!”
“I…I—fucking gods, woman!”
He says it with gritted teeth, moving his head quickly when you throw the box at him, hitting the door as he closes it so none of your belongings get lost.
“Were you watching me?” You ask, laughing in disbelief as you walk quickly to grab the nearest book on your desk, throwing at him again, “I reckoned your brother was the pervert one, but it appears it runs in the family!”
“Stop this madness!” He yells back, shielding his face with his arms as the book comes close to hit him in the cheek, “I was not watching, do not think yourself so appealing—“
“You do not find your wife appealing?” You point the candle holder you grab in the blink of an eye towards Aemond, narrowing your eyes at him as you take a step closer, “You come into my room, watching me peel off my clothes until I am naked just to say you do not find me appealing?”
“I did not say that, wife—“ he holds his hands up, slowly backing away from you, his back hitting the wall with a soft ‘thud’ before he resumes talking, “I was merely disagreeing about how I am of a sick mind, I am not, I wished to talk to you—“
“Nonsense!” You step closer, holding the sharp candle holder in his direction, “You said it, I heard it with my own ears! I despise you for being here, for being my husband, for trying to break me while it is you who does not wish to warm my bed.”
“Drop that thing, wife,” he sighs, gently trying to reach and grab it from you but you take a step back suddenly, glaring at him, “Don’t force me to come here and take it from you.”
“I would like to see you try, husband,” Venom drips from your words while you stare daggers at him, your grip tightening around the candle holder “Get out of my room!”
“You are my wife, I will do as I please,” his tone matches yours as he stares back at you, his eye darkening at the sight of your chest visible underneath your thin nightshift, “If I wish to stay here, I will—“
“Get. Out!” 
Before you are given the chance to throw what you are holding at him, Aemond grabs you by your wrist, pulling you closer as he switches your positions and pushes you against the wall; one knee between your legs and both of his hands pinning your wrists to the wall with one next to your head and the other above it.
“Why must you be so difficult?” He whispers, his nostrils flaring as he glares down at you, his fingers tightening around your wrists until you whimper and drop the candle holder, chest heaving as you look up at him.
“I am a reflection of how you treat me,” you spit the words out, craning your neck to lean closer to him, your nose brushing against his, “I despise you for the air you breathe, for the wine you drink—“
“And you do believe that I don’t seeth every time I am reminded that you are my wife?” He pushes his nose against yours forcefully, keeping your head locked against his and the wall with his forehead on yours, his hot breath mingling with your quick panting, “I wish to tear through everything that reminds me of you and your father—“
“Then do, coward,” you cut him off, your eyes falling down to his pink lips, wiggling against his hold, trying to free yourself, “Make me hate you more than I already do.”
And he does; his lips meet yours in a searing kiss, knocking the breath out of your lungs as he lets go of one of your wrists to pull you in closer by your waist, his nails digging into your flesh.
Your hand goes to his soft silky hair, pulling on the hair tie roughly as you kiss him back, threading your fingers through his locks, tugging at the root of his hair while he bites down your lips, freeing your other wrist too.
Aemond’s hand comes up to cradle your jaw, his tongue pushing past your lips so he can taste you thoroughly. He bucks his knee to your clothed core, encouraging you to go ahead and take your fill, rock your hatred into oblivion.
You whine as you slowly grind down on him, your lips falling apart as you break the kiss to gasp for air, your hand tugging at his hair while your other hand goes to his doublet, undoing it quickly while your hips pick up the pace.
“Go on, wife,” he whispers, hand letting go of your jaw before he reaches down to rub your heat over your underwear, letting out a shaky sigh when he finds a wet spot on the fabric, “So much for hating me, your cunt is betraying you.”
“Fuck you—“
“Fuck me indeed,” he pushes your underwear aside, swiping his fingers through your wet folds, enjoying the broken whine you let out.
He leans down, prepping kisses and bites along your neck, sinking his teeth a bit too hard when you push his doublet down and dig your nails in his pecks. Aemond’s thumb circles your pearl, making you tremble under his touch as he makes your essence drip on your inner thighs.
You throw your head back when he gently prods your entrance with one finger, easing the digit inside your warm walls with ease because of your wetness. He hums against your collarbone, enjoying how slowly you are losing yourself in the feeling of being wrapped in his arms — although the scratches you are leaving on his chest through his undershirt are the opposite of what he thinks.
He adds another finger, scissoring you open as he pumps his finger in and out of you, going in knuckles deep while he curves his digits, enjoying how your face twists with pleasure and a fit of anger that fuels because of how it is him who is giving you this pleasure.
“I need more,” you whine, one hand coming down to rest against his wrist, keeping his hand there as he thrusts his fingers faster, the lewd sound of squelching echoing in the room.
“I will give you more,” he goes faster when he notices how your eyes drop shut and your legs start to shake around his hand, your walls gripping his fingers for dear life, “I will make you fall in love with me.”
“Impossible,” you gasp, toes curling as you shake and peak around his fingers, throwing your head back against the wall while you gush and release all over his hand, “You are unlovable.”
“As I said before…” he whispers before he pulls his fingers out, wiping your wetness on your nightshift before he grabs the side of the fabric and tears it in half, leaving your body bare to his eye, “Your body betrays you, wife.”
You look at him in shock, covering your breasts with your arms, but Aemond has none of it; he slaps your arms away, taking off his undershirt, revealing his smooth chest before he grabs you by the nape and pulls you in for another kiss.
Your lips crash into each other, your hands tugging and pulling on the other’s hair while Aemond leads you to the bed, nearly tripping over the pile of clothes. 
He drops you on the bed, quickly crawling on top of you to meet you halfway for another passionate kiss, his hips pressing against the side of your hip before you spread your legs for him, pulling him even closer.
You reach between your bodies to palm the growing tent in his pants, squeezing and relishing in the sound he makes in your mouth before you urge him to push his pants and breeches down enough to free his cock.
You loathe how pretty he is, how pretty his cock is. You despise him for being the definition of Targaryen beauty, but now, the man you hate the most, the man who you have the spiteful pleasure of calling your husband, is about to take you for the first time.
He knows, of course he knows, because the queen would never choose anything less than a noble lady for her precious son; so he goes gently after he strokes his length a few times, pumping it to full hardness. He guides the red weeping head of his dick to your entrance, pushing in slowly, his hands going to your hips as he sits up on his knees so he can watch as he breaches past your muscles, the tip of his cock disappearing inside you.
You writhe beneath him, fisting the bed sheets as you nod and wait for him to go all the way in, pushing you to your limits as the stretch begins to be a bit painful, but he brings your hands to his chest, urging you to scratch him as hard as you wish when you feel any discomfort.
Aemond thrusts himself inside you completely, groaning at the tight feeling of your cunt gripping him like a vice, holding onto him until he has carved the shape of his cock within your walls.
He drops forward, holding himself up by his hands on each side of your face before he starts hammering himself inside you, making you gasp and moan incoherent words underneath him — the princeling in him only lasted for a few minutes, and now, he is just the Aemond who finds you annoying and miserable, fucking you as you are; the wife he hates, the woman he craves.
The rise and fall of your chest grows faster, and you wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, fingers leaving red angry marks all over his shoulder blades and back while you lock your legs around his slim waist, keeping him caged against you.
There are no words exchanged, there is no need to when both of you are moaning and groaning at the feeling, biting each other until there are visible signs of your tryst for the court to see on the next morrow.
He feels your walls clenching around his girth, bringing both his and your high closer. One of his hands reaches down, circling your nub so you fall over the edge of bliss, euphoria rushing through your body.
He follows closely, hammering his cock deep inside you until he buries himself into you and paints your walls with his seed, his eye wide open as he stares down at you, lips parted and pupil blown.
He pulls out of you after his body stops shaking, dropping down on the bed next to you as he tries to catch his breath, his arm lying limp on top of your body.
You feel his cum dribbling out of you, alerting you of what you have done. Suddenly, a wave of hatred crashes into your head, and you turn your head to look at his peaceful face before you start shoving him down your bed.
“Get out, arsehol!” You pull the covers on you, keeping them secure against your chest as you try to shove him down on the floor, “Get out of my room!”
“Easy, woman,” he throws his hands up in defeat, fixing his pants before he grabs his undershirt and puts it on, “I do not intend to stay here longer than needed.”
“I hate you,” you say, pushing him out of the door with force, frowning when he laughs into your face but you do not wait for him to reply before you slam the door shut.
But you hear him from the other side of the door.
“Mutual feelings, wife.”
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