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#I wish you to receive back all the good things you are sharing and more!
admirxation · 2 days
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Actress / Leon Kennedy oneshot
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boyfriends dad!Leon Kennedy x afab!reader
summary: your boyfriend has brought you home to meet his father, but it turns to a non conventional meeting when your boyfriend goes to sleep.
cw: this fic contains cheating, I do not condone everything I write; this is just fiction where real people cannot get hurt, please read the warnings and continue at your own discretion // 18+ heavy smut (mdni), cheating, kissing, touching, tit grabbing, grinding, fingering (f receiving), finger sucking, degrading, unprotected sex (p in v), and creampie.
word count: 2.8k
thank you @valslullaby for this idea, my fellow older man lover, please check their fics as well they’re so good
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When you told people you were going to college, the description and the idea of college tended to be romanticised, further enticing you to the whole ‘college experience.’ These conversations usually involved older people looking back on those former years through rose-tinted glasses and appreciating the simpler times, wanting to regress to that time when troubles weren’t as hard, where your biggest stress was getting an assignment in last minute compared to getting the rent due and food on the table for you and the whole family. The conversation tended to have them blissfully remembering how much they could drink and how they could handle the hangovers back then, remembering how easy it was to make friends in the same class as you and all they could do now was focus on a good credit score and getting on the property ladder.
But the conversation of college didn’t just come with remembering the good times; it came with some advice, some embarrassing advice you didn’t want to hear about—the sex talk. When you accepted your dream college's offer, the “be safe” talk was constantly repeated; you remembered how you wanted time to quicken and have the conversation end every time it started. You understood that they just wanted to keep you safe; after all, you would rather them tell you what to avoid than just outright forbid and have you get into some serious trouble—but who in their right mind wants to want to discuss their sex life with their parents?
The conversation consisted of the basics you already knew: you can say no anytime (obviously), make sure he uses a condom, watch how much you drink and who you’re going home with, the usual safety many people knew and practised. However, while you remembered it all in exact order to recite, you never thought you needed to use it when you entered the dorms since you didn’t have much luck when it came to your love life. That was until you met him—your current boyfriend.
You two were in the same class, him sitting next to you; it started with him acting stupid and you sharing your notes, compliments on how smart you are, later going to the same afterschool study sessions, then getting closer with every day that went past. At first, you didn’t think too much of it, thinking this would be a casual relationship that would end in the first semester, but then you started seeing each other more frequently; he was even buying you countless gifts that made you wonder what in the hell he was doing to afford it all. Then it turned to him meeting your parents; you tried not to admit it to yourself, but you wished that they wouldn’t like him, hoping to use it as an excuse to end things, but alas, they loved and approved of him, commending you for your “great taste” in picking a partner. You just smiled and hugged him that night as he gushed about his excitement about what they thought, but all you could think when nestled on his chest was: I’m forever stuck.
He was lovely and a nice enough guy, but something about him was off, maybe a touch of immaturity, not having much in common or just an outright lack of interest. Continuing your cowardly streak, you agreed to meet his father, wishing things would pick up after his first meeting.
The days rushed by when it came to driving back to his place, and you received constant text messages from your parents reminding you to be polite and make a good impression. A part of you was thinking about pretending to be rude and unlikeable, but you couldn’t bear someone thinking of you like this, especially an adult, after being raised to respect your elders, like most people.
You were quiet for the whole car ride, not sharing a single word, hoping he would perhaps disapprove of you—a girl could wish to get the easy way out.
As you two approached the front door, you heard heavy footsteps come closer and the clicking sound of a door unlocking. Later, you were in Mr. Kennedy’s gaze. You gave him a warm smile, watching his eyes widen as he quickly looked you up and down.
“Ah, it’s lovely to finally meet the mystery girl my son can’t shut up about,” he said, seeing your boyfriend roll his eyes in embarrassment as he entered his house. “Come in, come in.”
“Thank you, Mr. Kennedy,” you showed him respect.
“Oh, no need for formalities, just call me Leon… Mr. Kennedy makes me sound so old; I don’t need the reminder of how the years have slipped by,” you couldn’t help but let out a small giggle at his words; you never imagined his father to be like this, the way he described him didn’t fit the current person you were greeted with. Your boyfriend described how much he looked up to him, how he was his whole world and that he would trust his instincts; if he disliked something, he would dislike it; if he loved something, he would try his best to find a love for it. At first, you found it ridiculous how much he needed Daddy’s approval; you even told him he ought to just make his own thoughts. But standing there in his presence, you could understand; he had a gentle and subtle touch of influence in his stance, but also an overwhelming quality about him that made you want to follow his will.
Another thing you couldn’t deny was how attractive Leon was. You expected some normal military dad who was such a bore, but you couldn’t help but steal a few glances at the attractive older man.
For the whole night, Leon made you feel welcome, helping you with your bags and asking you for any refreshments you would like; your boyfriend mentioned how he hadn’t seen him so happy and eager for years; it must have been the presence of a lady, you thought. You forgot about the desire to have him dislike you; you even thought of continuing to ignore those feelings as nervousness in the relationship, but at the moment, you were so invested in everything Leon was doing and saying to you—you couldn’t describe the feeling he had over you.
As the night wore on, you saw your boyfriend’s eyes get heavier, but you were still wide awake as your conversations with Leon continued at the same pace as in the early afternoon, all the way to the late evening.
“I think I’m going to bed now; I’ll see you tomorrow,” your boyfriend gently kissed your cheek, automatically reciprocating it as he trudged upstairs back into his room, hearing the heavy door click into place.
Your heartbeat picked up when you noticed it was just you and Leon in the same room. You thought about all those thoughts you had when you first saw him, how you analysed his stature, how you looked at how his biceps filled the sleeves of his shirt, trailing down to his hands and how he used them in his manner of speech.
Whatever junk was playing on the television went on for a few minutes after your boyfriend had gone to sleep, and you noticed how Leon leaned back in his chair and listened carefully toward the bottom of the stairs, trying to hear if your boyfriend had gone to sleep already.
“He’s a fast sleeper,” you tried to break the silence. “I’m quite jealous of people who can hit the pillow and sleep -” You weren’t expecting to be cut off.
“Hmm,” a smirk played at the corner of his lips, making your curiosity peak. “You know, you’re a very good actress.”
“E-excuse me?”
“I know you don’t love him, gods, that kiss was pathetic… I know you don’t want to kiss in front of his old man, but that kiss was… plain… Does he really eat this shit up?” You were shocked how he saw through your facade; no one, not even your friends, who thought they knew you better than anyone, could see your true feelings. You felt anxious, like a cold spike that hung around your heart, that sensation in your chest; you were nervous about how he looked through, but in a way, relieved? Relieved that someone could finally see how you were walking on eggshells in your so-called ‘serious relationship.’
You sighed: “I’m sorry… Sir… I didn’t —”
“…Just because I’ve seen through your little act doesn’t mean I think of you differently.”
“Why? I’m kind of wasting your son's time,” you paused for a moment, “I didn’t mean for it to go as far; I just wanted something casual, and I—”
“Whatever you need to tell yourself to sleep at night, sweetheart, I don’t need to hear the excuse… I always knew… He showed me pictures of you… I was shocked he wasn’t making it up; in all honesty. A very pretty girl I thought, and I’m glad my theory was right.”
“You’re going to tell him when he wakes up?” you wanted to be prepared for when he would take the news, trying to talk to yourself and make sure you came clean until you heard Leon’s next words that curated a shake into your core.
“No, I think he can find out when he uses his brain… But I will say, this information does make me happy.” Your eyebrow peaked in interest, and you wondered what he meant. “It makes me feel less guilty.”
“For what?”
“Don’t play coy… I’ve seen how you’ve been looking at me,” you blushed as you swished your head to avoid eye contact, your heart thumping like an animal in a cage the moment you heard and felt him get closer, sneaking into the cushioned seat right next to you, placing his fingers on your chin and turning you to face him, “Don’t be shy now. I have to say I was excited to see that beautiful girl in the pictures; I’m quite glad she’s right in front of me now.”
“I, I, don’t think we-”
“Oh, now you’re a good person?” he teased with a taunting tone in his voice, slowly leaning back, “If you want me to stop, I will… just say the word, dear,” he tilted his head to the side, showing you he was hearing out for a ‘no’.
You couldn’t deny how much you were curious about what he was thinking. You were ashamed but also wanted to indulge in how Leon thought about you. You bit the bottom of your lip softly, slightly licking your lips as you briefly thought about what you were doing. You thought about the implications of cheating on your partner, for a little bit of fun, especially with his father, but that part of you couldn’t care about the right thing as you had Leon staring at you.
“Fine, I’ll —”
“No, wait… I don’t want you to stop,” you say in one breathless sentence.
“Hm,” he leaned in closer, placing his hand on your cheek as he brought you to his lips, “Just tell me when you wanna stop, darling,” he said as he pressed his lips onto yours for a moment, “and don’t worry… I’ll keep your little secret. For now.”
Your heartbeat continued to beat quickly, and you felt your blood rush through your body as you closed your eyes and got lost in his kiss; your lips brushed and glided against one another, and his tongue slid slightly in your mouth and smoothed over and around your tongue. You softly moaned into the kiss as your began to lose yourself even more, your fingers trickling through his blonde hair, feeling yourself drift into the experience as he pulled you closer as he placed his hand on your lower back and collided his body against yours, your arms wrapped around him as he slithered up to your chest.
His hand rose to breast, squeezing the mound that drew soft and whispered moans, continuing to meld into your soft plush as he continued to kiss you through your tender sighs; you instinctively moved your leg around his, making invitation for Leon for push you further into the sofa, not breaking from the countless interlocks and sensual touching. You felt him grind along your clothed pussy, feeling his growing bulge along your cores heat, pushing and rubbing against you as he continued to sway his hips forward and grind into your pussy that was already getting wetter the more the kiss and touches deepened.
He moved from your breast, grinding his index finger on your already hardened nipple, smirking at you not wearing a bra: “hm, you come prepared,” he said as you left a final strong squeeze and continued to graze down your torso, slithering to your core and lifting your dress up, placing a collective of his fingers along the wet patch of your underwear.
“You’re already soaked, you dirty girl,” he whispered in you ear, before leaving a subtle nibble on your earlobe that drew a deeper breath from your lips, arching your back into him as he continued to rub along your covered clit, squirming as his fingers went in perfect circular motions.
“Mm, fuck,” you moaned in a whispered hush, biting your lip as Leon stared at your core, no longer being able to wait as he wrapped his fingers underneath the waistband and travelled the material down your hips, staring at your glistening wet cunt as he discarded the cloth onto the floor, lost in thought as he proceeded to touch your heat, feeling how wet you were the more he circled along the bundle of nerves, your puffy clit stimulated more and leaving you to try your best to keep hushed tones.
“You’re such a beautiful girl,” he whispered to you, then proceeding to place his hand over your mouth, “now try to be quiet darling… we have a secret to maintain.”
He pushed his index and middle finger inside your wet hole, creating a catalyst for your widened eyes and drawing in air for a deep gasp as you felt his long fingers penetrate inside of your walls, feeling him pump in and out, using his thumb to press along your needy clit; your eyes rolled to the back of your head, exposing the whites and seeing a blurred vision as your walls tightened around his fingers, making his cock grow harder against his pants.
“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he expressed as he continued to pump his fingers, licking his lips as he felt and heard how wet you were, “and all because of me… easy to please a slut.”
Your breathing hitched into a tremble as he poked the right spots, a tingling sensation within you as you closed your eyes and got lost in his expertise before he slowly took away your excitement, feeling your hole flutter from neglect as you stared at him licking his fingers: “you’re a sweet treat,” he complimented as he wrapped his fingers around his trousers and glided them off, seeing his large member and feeling it slap against your pussy.
“Do you want this?” he asked as he positioned himself to your entrance.At first you nodded to which he replied: “be a good girl and use your words, or I’ll leave you squirming.”
“Yes… I w-want you, p-please L-“
“You can call me sir now.”
“P-please Sir. I need you.”
“Good girl.”
He slotted his length to slide into your aching hole, pressing the head of his cock against your walls before hitting the cervix with his tip; “god, you’re so fucking tight,” he groaned as he swayed his hips as he continued to fuck you.
Saliva collected at the corners of your lips, as your body swayed up and down as Leon pressed his hands into gripping your waist, pounding his length inside you and you trying your best not to scream out; oxygen felt scarce the more you gasped in need for him.
“Shh, shh, shh, try to keep that pretty mouth quiet darling,” he cooed as he continued to rock forcefully inside you, feeling a wave inside you about to erupt in motions.
Your eyelids fluttered as your walls spasmed around Leon’s large cock, feeling his balls slap against your ass, him lifting your legs around his neck to get deeper and bruising your delicate cervix even more.
Your blood rushed through your veins all at once, as you released a muffled and large orgasm trapped by his hand over your mouth, feeling your stomach coil up into a knot as you released and made a mess all over Leon; but he didn’t care, as he continued to push further and deeper as he watched your tits bounce to the rhythmic thrusts he gave to you.
Before you could recover from your orgasm, feeling your cunt continue to pulsate, you felt Leon’s movement quicken into rougher grinds; as your moans got more laboured and strenuous you felt him drape your walls with his hot cum, swimming out and covering your walls and pooling out, making such a mess.
In a moment of recovery, Leon stopped to catch his breath, keeping himself inside of you and watching you gasp for air, before dictating you: “Go clean yourself up, no one likes a messy slut.”
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a/n: the partners dad leon fics are literally my favourite to write atm, and i’m glad to see so many people going feral over them hehe. just wanted to note that i am working on father in law leon kennedy series, and im thinking of not continuing the las plagas series as i don’t find myself or others liking it. thanks for anyone that reads and I appreciate and am grateful for all the engagement.
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sourholland · 3 days
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based off of taylor swift’s song style
a/n → well i bet some people didn’t expect this story to be updated again, however here i am and here it is. this is chapter 4. what mostly inspired me to try and finish this series is the continuous love i have received through it. there were a lot of people who told me how much they enjoy it and who am i to deny them. however i know that it’s been a year since i’ve updated this so if you want off of the taglist because of disinterest, please let me know!!! same goes for wanting to be on the taglist, just lmk 🩵
summary → he’s the quarterback of the cincinnati bengals, a worldwide heartthrob with an ego the size of lake erie—but does he have the heart to match it? you’re the bengals newest cheerleader, desperate to prove how much you deserve your spot on the team. it doesn’t take much to catch the eye of joe burrow, however that isn’t necessarily a good thing when you’re told that any romantic relations between cheerleaders and players is strictly prohibited.
warnings → strong language, nsfw content - oral sex
word count → 3.4k
reblog and leave some comments if you enjoy!!!
SERIES MASTERLIST
Chapter 4
“He’s fucking obsessed with you,” Sydney reasoned with you, listening to you finally debrief everything that had gone on between you and Joe over the last few weeks. “If you seriously start with all of this self-sabotage bullshit, I’m gonna kill you.”
Lena sat criss cross on the floor, silent and turning over the information you had given her carefully. Sydney was sitting on the couch beside you, knees pulled up to her chest as she spooned more ice cream into her mouth. It had been days since you slept over at Joe’s and besides a few text conversations and fleeting glances at the stadium, nothing more had happened between the two of you.
“She’s right,” Lena finally chimed in, her mass of curls held up in a claw clip she’d stolen from you during freshman year. “He’s obsessed.”
With a roll of your eyes, you turned over dramatically and buried your face into the throw pillow on your couch and screamed into it. If he was so obsessed, why hadn’t he called? Maybe because you completely overreacted after seeing one text on his phone like a psycho bitch, you thought to yourself begrudgingly. He probably thought you were crazy and territorial over guys you weren’t even with.
“I think I ruined it when I left the bar,” you sighed, considering screaming into the pillow again like a child.
“Oh my god, shut up. Men are so simple and literally do not care about stuff like that, I’m telling you. If he told you he let it go, he let it go. There’s no reason to overthink it,” Sydney assured you with a half-full mouth of chocolate ice cream. “Do you remember when I was fucking with Josh sophomore year and found out he was still hooking up with that one girl on the lacrosse team? Lily or whatever the fuck her name was–whatever, not the point–but do you remember when I deadass asked the front desk of our dorm building for a pair of scissors and walked a mile to where his car was parked and slashed three of his tires. Yeah, well he still hits me up. Men do not give a fuck.”
Lena had begun clutching her stomach in fits of laughter, rolling onto her back and shaking her head with tears prickling the corners of her eyes. You clapped a hand over your mouth, kicking Sydney and recalling how feral the three of you had been during your freshman and sophomore year. Moments like these made you wish the three of you were already living together again, as you had the prior three years. Well, Sydney shared a suite with you and Lena sophomore year and the three of you got an apartment junior year. After you told your parents that you planned to stay in Cincinnati after graduation, they knew you would need a place and gave you your graduation present early–a down payment on an apartment and your first month's rent. 
Cheering with the Bengals and substitute teaching on the side allowed you to save a little, but most of your money went towards bills. Lena and Sydney were planning to move in and split the cost three ways as soon as your prior lease was up. They had agreed to take on your portion of rent when you moved out of your previous apartment two months ago, knowing they wouldn’t have to put any money away for the down payment when they did move in with you. They still had about three weeks left until the lease was up, but you had all spent weeks packing up the other apartment slowly but surely. There were enough rooms for each of you to get your own, one was just significantly smaller than the other two. Lena had volunteered to take the space immediately, claiming she didn’t mind the lack of closet space or squeaky door.
Lena never had it in her to mind anything like that, she always just brushed it off and said it didn’t bother her one bit. She told you she was just excited to live with her two sisters, making you cry on the spot and tell her how much you appreciated her. Sydney would have taken the small room, she just wouldn’t have been happy about it and somehow both you and Lena knew she would find closet space one way or another. 
“I can’t wait for Joe Burrow to be sitting in my kitchen,” said Lena, letting Sydney spoon ice cream into her mouth now. “Or what about when you guys are fucking–”
“Lena!” You took the pillow you had been yelling into and pressed it into your flaming cheeks.
“Okay wait, answer honestly and don’t be modest. How big?” she swallowed, clasping her hands together in front of her, ready to inch them apart. “Tell me when to stop.”
“You’re both insufferable!” 
Lena, however, only continued to move her hands apart from each other with wide eyes when you still hadn’t said to stop. She hit the solid length, you nearly wheezed the word out with tears freely streaming down your face as all three of you clutched your abdomens in hysterics and girlish giggles.
“Do you need a third or what?” Sydney joked, already having pulled Joe’s Instagram up to stalk for the millionth time.
“Obviously,” you gave her a playful once over and winked, sending the three of you into fits of laughter again. 
⋆------------⋆
Practices leading up to the next preseason game against the Giants were brutal. Coaches were through with putting up with excuses and mistakes, leaving most of you on the team crying by the end of the night. When they wanted you to suffer, you suffered. Some of the senior girls who had been cheering with the team for a few years tried their best to ease the anxieties of the less-veteraned girls.
Everything hurt, all the time. Your back and legs mostly, but the soreness in your thighs and glutes made even warmups painful.
“Y/N!” Coach Traci’s voice bellowed. “What are you doing with your arms? How many times have I told you that if you can’t get this, I’m moving you back for our sideline dance sequences so you’re less visible?”
“Multiple times,” your voice came out as a little more than an embarrassed squeak. “I’m sorry, Coach.”
“Don’t be sorry, be better.”
You had to get your mind straight, shaking off the criticism and putting everything into the next time you ran the dance. Coach Traci nodded at you, the only acknowledgement of improvement that you would get for tonight. After the shitshow that was the Cardinals game, you knew better than to balk or disrespect anyone during practices. Everyone was strung out and tired, it was during a water break when you realized Joe was perched in his usual spot, headphones around his neck and running through some easy sprints. 
Good fucking god, had he heard your scolding? The thought brought you back to high school, the feeling of getting a question blatantly wrong in front of your crush or being reprimanded in front of the class for talking too loudly during a lesson. That same flutter of uneasiness left you feeling uncomfortable within your own skin, distracted again but pushing the thoughts aside in order not to repeat the whole embarrassing ordeal.
Joe was doing his absolute best job of casually sitting in on as many cheer practices as possible. The last thing he wanted was to cause trouble for either of you, but he would have been lying if he said he wasn’t using the fact that he is who he is to do his workouts wherever he wanted around the facility without a second glance from anyone. There were very few people meandering around, telling Joe what to do. With his injury, he was just now getting back into light conditioning and drill work so it wasn’t out of the ordinary for him to remain at the stadium to workout after practice had ended. He was watching from the sidelines most practices, occasionally being able to do a few workouts and passing the football around while everyone ran plays. 
He would take advantage of the opportunity to watch you while it was the most inconspicuous.
Practice unsurprisingly went late. Joe had disappeared back inside at some point, to finally go home you assumed. Once you were heaving and your body felt like pure jelly, you were finally allowed to go and grab your things and head in to shower. There were two text messages from Joe, delivered fifteen minutes prior.
Joe: Text me when you’re done
Joe: Actually do you wanna do what you gotta do and meet me in our locker room??
This boy is genuinely idiotic if he thinks you’re just waltzing into the team locker room, facility still far from emptied out. You ignored the messages until you got into your own locker room, sitting on a bench and shaking your head at his idea once again. Joe had absolutely nothing to lose here, that much was obvious from the start. You were a completely different story, though.
Y/N: Joe omg
Y/N: There are cameras everywhereeeeeeeee
Y/N: Can you just call me later?
Joe: No
Joe: Just go around the long way, don’t take the hall Emily’s office is on and come around from the other side. 
When you didn’t respond right away, he texted again.
Joe: The security camera isn’t facing the door, it’s facing who comes down that main hallway
Joe: I swear no one is gonna see you, the cameras will literally only get you taking a different hallway to walk out of the building and we can leave out of different doors
Y/N: You’re actually insane
Y/N: How do you even know what ways the camera faces???
Joe: I just walked out of the locker room and looked
Joe: I basically walked the whole thing, everyone went home 
Joe: Obviously not your team but yk what I mean, your coaches office is on the complete other side of the building 
Y/N: Go home, Joe :)
Joe: Please
Your thumbs hovered over the letters ‘N’ and ‘O’, but there was a part of you that couldn’t deny how excited the idea of seeing him again made you. The sneaking around had your gut twisting in a way that had all of your rational thoughts going right out the door. You’re pathetic, you told yourself as you glanced over your shoulder to make sure no one watched you type your next message.
Y/N: You need to see me so bad that you’re saying please?
Joe: Desperately
Y/N: Oh you’re good lmao
Joe: So I’ll see you in fifteen
Liking the message, you put your head in your hands for a moment and huffed a laugh as you finally turned on the shower and stripped yourself of the now sweaty practice clothes. Most of the girls showered at home after night practices, so only a few remained readying to leave. You took your time, double shampooing and ensuring as many people as possible had departed from the practice facility. 
“Good night, girl!” Carolina called out, walking out the door and leaving only you.
“Night, Carol!”
With shaky breaths, you brushed your wet hair once again and looked into the mirror. You had no makeup on and wore shorts and a Bengals hoodie now, which did nothing for your confidence as you walked out of the locker room with your bag in hand and cast your eyes downward. In your attempts to look unsuspicious, you took the long back hallway that wrapped around the inside of the stadium. There was the muffled sound of the janitors' speakers, but they were far from where you were and each office and support center looked desolate and left for the night.
The door to the players’ locker room was slightly ajar, leaving you to glance around again and double check Joe’s camera assessment. He was right, there was a camera on the end of the hallway, but it faced the opposite direction and caught whoever took the main entrance inside of this part of the building. Quickly, you slipped into the much nicer locker room and shut the door behind you. 
“That was twenty-five minutes,” Joe’s voice sounded from behind you.
“This is a stupid idea,” you cast him a playfully annoyed glance and locked the door behind you, turning to find him in shorts and a black T-shirt. “You’re a really bad influence, you know that?”
“So I’ve been told,” he walked towards you with such ease that you wouldn’t have believed he was just bed-ridden from surgery. His fingers found the hem of your hoodie, smirking down at you in his usual arrogantly charming manner. “I’m still glad you came, though. Even if I compromise your moral judgment so badly.”
He is so fucking hot, you thought as he continued fiddling with your sweatshirt. How is it possible to have this much sex appeal? How is it humanly possible for anyone to resist a look like his? Your entire body was on fire, swallowing hard and wondering once again how you wound up here with him.
“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he confessed. “I know I keep saying that and you’re probably sick of it. It’s true, though.”
The pads of his thumb and index finger brushed your bare torso, the circular motion leaving you breathing a bit heavier. His touch was less feverish than usual, more gentle and fleeting like he wanted you to know how much he wanted you. Hardly blinking, you let the tense silence guide you towards him in a way that left you practically flush against each other. Joe’s breathing hitched, giving you those sultry bedroom eyes and stupid smirk.
This time it was you who could no longer resist, kissing him softly as if to say that you, too, could not stop thinking of him. He slid his arms around your lower back, allowing you to wrap yours around his neck. Your back arched slightly at the long kiss, his right hand lowering to grab your ass and squeeze. He somehow maneuvered the two of you farther into the locker room between open-mouth, breathy kisses. Your back collided with the wall to the right of the sequence of open lockers, his mouth on your neck and biting gently at the skin of your collarbone. 
He pulled your hoodie off, throwing it somewhere behind him. Your fingers found his hair, tugging as he marked your chest up ravenously. A problem for later, you pushed the thought away and let your head roll to the side as he palmed both of your breasts through the fabric of your sports bra, occasionally leaving a hum of pleasure against the soft skin between your breasts. He kissed down your stomach and held you roughly by one hip, sinking to his knees looking up at you asking permission. 
“Did you know this was going to happen when you texted me?” You teased, still holding onto him by his hair. 
“When I texted you,” he started, letting out a breathy chuckle. “I prayed to god that this would happen, but I figured you were gonna tell me to fuck off.”
With a playful shove of his head, you looked away with blazing skin and blown pupils. Joe pulled down your shorts in one quick motion, running his hands down your hips and thighs with a lustful expression. He kissed you over the fabric of your underwear, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass. There was no denying the arousal dripping from you, wetting your panties, leaving Joe to raise an eyebrow and flash you an egotistical grin. A breathy moan escaped you and he stopped, causing a near-whimper to come from you.
“Quiet, baby,” he chided softly, “I need you to be quiet or we’re both fucked.”
The fact that he had called you baby was something to dissect tomorrow, you only inhaled sharply at his words. He looked up at you again with hair falling over his forehead, “can you be quiet for me?”
If he kept looking at you like that, you would do just about anything for him. You gave him a nod and he kneaded the flesh of your thigh now, finally pulling your underwear down and discarding them carelessly. He wrapped your right leg around his shoulder, on his knees before you.
“Can’t say that I’m complaining at this sight, right where you belong,” you whispered, cheekily.
“You’re hilarious,” he rolled his eyes and pinched your backside. “I’m on my knees for you anytime, just say the word.”
He didn’t give you even a second to respond, tonguing you with such desperation that your toes curled the second he put his mouth on you. Your slick had already coated his mouth and chin, his tongue running between your folds as his nose brushed the bundle of nerves. You struggled to keep quiet, eyes squeezing shut as you rocked your hips into his mouth and relished in each breathy moan that escaped him and reverberated against your center. 
His thumb went to your clit, rubbing feverishly at the bud and watching you turn to putty in his hands. Your legs began to shake violently, wondering how much longer you could stand the tight coiling in your belly. One of your hands remained in his hair, the other gripped the hard wall for any semblance of steadying as he devoured you. 
He grunted against you, picking up his pace and letting his hands explore as you bit back each and every sound you wished to make. He steadied you as you came undone, panting and unable to move or see. Stars clouded your vision, black spots causing you to close your eyes and breathe for a moment as you regained feeling of your body again.
The handle of the door shook, someone was trying to get in.
“Fuck,” you whispered at Joe, who was already carefully dropping your leg and reaching back to grab your shorts and hoodie. 
You slid the shorts on, throwing the hoodie over your head and letting Joe silently lead you farther back into the locker room where the showers were. He gave you a look that said to sit tight and make no noise. He didn’t look nearly as nervous as you, legs still gelatin and causing you to have to lean back against the wall to ensure your balance.
“Anyone in there?” A man’s voice sounded, muffled slightly from the distance now between you and the door. 
“Yeah!” Joe called out as casually as possible, he sauntered over to the door and flicked the lock and opened it. A janitor stood before him, cart beside him to clean. “Hey, Phil. I stayed late tonight, I don’t know why I locked the door. Must’ve been a reflex.”
Phil nodded slowly, he looked into the locker room and saw it all emptied out. Joe rubbed the back of his neck, swallowing and waiting for the man to say something. Phil only coughed and averted his eyes when he saw the lilac underwear balled up on the floor. He met Joe’s eyes and muttered that he’d come back around once he left, but not to be more than ten more minutes. Joe gave him a gracious thanks and sighed in relief as the man retreated down the hallway and brought his cart into another room, shutting the door behind him and turning his radio up considerably louder than he’d ever heard him play it.
“You can come out now,” he said, turning around and seeing the panties on the ground. He had no clue if Phil had seen them, but he also had no doubt that Phil was no busybody or gossip at his ripe age of at least seventy. 
“Do I get to keep these?” He asked as you came out from the showers, holding them up and smirking.
“Did I or did I not say that this was a stupid idea?” 
“Is that a yes or a no?”
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joequiinn · 23 hours
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PREVIEW | You Can Have My Hate | B.H. x reader
summary: Unfortunately, you got stuck with Billy fucking Hargrove as your partner for your final assignment in history class. Also unfortunately, Billy discovers you have a killer body underneath all those baggy clothes…
a/n: Billy is a disgusting little man and i love him dearly. as the title says, this is a preview of something i've been working on! the fic is already at 6.5k words and still isn't done, so i decided to put out a little snippet to see if there was any interest, so please let me know if you'd like me to finish the fic!
notes & tropes: fem reader, curvy + large chest reader, foul and suggestive language, canon typical Billy bullshit, awful behavior from both Billy and reader, minor allusions to sex but nothing happens (yet)
music inspo: Closer by Nine Inch Nails
preview wc: 1.9k
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You let me violate you | You let me desecrate you You let me penetrate you | You let me complicate you
“Damn, little miss straight-laced,” Billy’s hooded eyes slowly crawled down your body, the corner of his mouthing pulled back in a lecherous smirk, “is that what you’ve been hiding under all those baggy clothes?”
God, you hated Billy Hargrove. Absolutely despised him with every fiber of your being. You knew you should’ve begged your history teacher for a different partner, should’ve gotten on your knees and pleaded for literally anyone other than Billy fucking Hargrove to work on this assignment with you. An idiotic football player or a bitchy cheerleader would’ve been better than this. But no, you didn’t beg and you didn’t plead, so now you were stuck, and god if this wasn’t about to be the worst couple weeks of your life.
Ever since Billy showed up in Hawkins at the beginning of last semester, you detested him. Everything about him screamed disrespectful, hateful asshole, and so having two classes with him meant you had witnessed your fair share of this behavior. Why so many girls wanted to fuck him and why so many boys aspired to be him was a mystery to you, because you could see from the start that he was a no good piece of shit.
But, in a way, you were lucky because you were literally a nobody. And nobodies went unnoticed, which meant not having to deal with bullshit from 90% of your peers. Hell, when your history teacher was pairing everyone off and told Billy who his partner would be, his response was an amused “who?” as if he didn’t believe this person - you - even existed. He had gone the entirety of the school year not having a single clue that you existed, and damn you wish it had just gone on a little longer. You literally had one more month left of senior year, one more month until you never even had to think about Hawkins High again, and the last thing you wanted was to spend half of that month in misery while trying to put up with Billy fucking Hargrove.
This assignment shouldn’t have even been worth shit to you, considering that your grade was nearly perfect and it was your last big project before graduation, but that’s where your history teacher hooked all of you - if this assignment wasn’t completed, then you guys wouldn’t be able to receive your diplomas. Or so he said to deter kids like you from flaking on it - you didn’t know if your boring old history teacher had that kind of authority, but you weren’t about to risk finding out.
And for kids like Billy? Kids who didn’t give a shit, who were already struggling to pass? The grade on this assignment was make or break. Not that it affected you any, of course - Billy could fail his senior year for all you cared. But shockingly enough, he was the one to make a point of its importance to you, the one to emphasize that he had to pass this class and graduate. It was curious to you, since you’d never once seen Billy care about school, but perhaps he was also beginning to feel the fire under his ass to leave Hawkins.
So, for the past week now, you’d been meeting with Billy at the school library, trying your best not to rip out your hair while you did the majority of the work. Hell, you could’ve told Billy just to fuck off and let you work on your own - you’d still let him put his name on the assignment and everything. But for whatever reason, you didn’t and so now you were subjecting yourself to tolerating his bullshit.
And that’s what you were doing right now, sitting across from Billy in the library and using every fiber of your being not to lose it on him. He had been particularly difficult from the moment he sat down, his foot bouncing impatiently and his expression condescending each time you tried to talk to him. He was making it very clear that he’d rather be anywhere other than here. The warm temperature of the library combined with your frustration at Billy was causing you to feel a little toasty, so you caved and tugged your large sweater over your head, leaving you in a tight, black tank top that left little to the imagination.
And said tight, black tank top is exactly what Billy was ogling, making you sneer and immediately regret taking off your sweater.
You never liked showing off your body, never liked the attention it drew you. You wouldn’t say you were self-conscious necessarily, you didn’t hate the way you looked in the mirror or anything like that. But you were very aware of how men looked at women’s bodies, and as someone who hated most forms of attention, you weren’t going to have any of that. So you wore baggy jeans and oversized sweaters, hid your frame under clothes that were always a size or so too big. It kept eyes and hands off of you, and you preferred it that way.
But damn it, it was so hot in the library that afternoon and you weren’t thinking clearly. You couldn’t believe your own stupidity - you just had to take off your sweater in front of Billy fucking Hargrove, a boy who only ever saw women as either sex pots or prudes. His lewd gaze was making you feel even more hot under the collar, but shit did you want to put your sweater back on already despite the heat.
“Will you please focus, Hargrove?” You begged in an exacerbated tone, trying to cross your arms over your chest in a way that wasn’t obvious while looking back down to the textbook open in front of you.
“You expect me to focus now, after you whipped those out?” Billy took such obvious joy in knowing that he was making you uncomfortable. He leaned forward on the table, his eyes once again traveling a salacious path down the curves of your body, “It’s Friday night, I got a pair of double D’s sitting across from me, and you’re asking me to focus on a damn essay?”
“Shut up.” You threatened between your teeth, trying not to raise your voice and draw attention. Your eyes were dark with frustration as you stared at Billy, who simply looked back at you like he didn’t give a damn, like he was just waiting for you to cave to him.
And how the hell could he tell you wore a double D?
You sank in your seat a little while attempting to cross your arms even more aggressively in front of your chest, feeling your cheeks growing red. Billy gave you that smooth, lazy grin that you’ve seen him use before, his eyes hooded as he leaned back in his chair. The feeling of his indecent gaze on your body practically made your skin crawl.
“Fine, Hargrove,” You quickly grab up your belongings and shoot to your feet, fumbling with your bag and sweater to make sure they kept your chest covered, “if you wanna be a prick who won’t focus, we’ll do this next week.”
You started to march out of the library, to retreat to safety. You didn’t like the way Billy was looking at you - it was objectifying and disrespectful and vulgar. Billy never once gave a fuck about - or even noticed - you before, but the second you remove a stupid barrier of clothing, suddenly he’s oh so interested. He was such a pig.
But shit, why was it also… kind of hot?
No, it was not hot.
You couldn’t let yourself even entertain that thought because there sure as shit wasn’t anything hot about it. It wasn’t hot that he objectified you, it wasn’t hot that he drank your body in with impropriety, it wasn’t hot that his tongue ran slowly along his lower lip as his eyes met yours with practiced allure.
No, no, no! You could’ve kicked yourself. Nothing about that should’ve been hot, god damn it.
“Oh, come on, killjoy,” Billy grabbed your wrist, spinning you back around to face him, having followed you through the library. His grip was firm as you looked between his face and hand and back again.
The library wasn’t exactly busy on a Friday afternoon, but you looked around to find that the librarian and another student both looked in your direction. It made you even more nervous to know that eyes were on you; what if you got in trouble, what if the librarian reprimands you both for being disruptive? You looked back to Billy, your brows furrowed in annoyance as you whipped your wrist out of his hold with hostility.
“I’m serious, if all you want is to slack off and look at my tits that’s your business.” You immediately clamped your mouth shut, your eyes widening slightly - that is not what you meant to say at all. Oh god, why the fuck did you say that? Shit, you should’ve just told him that you’d regroup next week, that you weren’t going to put up with him. But no, instead you said arguably the stupidest thing you could, and it was clear on Billy’s face that he was relishing in your stupid words, enjoying them even.
He looked back down at your body, luckily hidden behind your bag and sweater, “My business, huh? Sounds to me like permission to stare.”
“No.” You answered firmly; your cheeks and neck felt so fucking warm. You tried to get back on track, tried to shake off the stupid thing you said just a moment ago, “I just want to finish this project. So, go home and jack off to your Playboys all weekend, and then maybe we can actually get some work done next week.”
Despite your jabs, Billy still grinned wickedly, dipping his head a little as he took a step closer, his voice low, “So, that’s what you’re thinking about, huh? Me jacking off? You enjoying that thought?”
Your mouth opened and closed as you tried to find some quick response to that, but you couldn’t think of a damn thing to say. A sound of disbelief left your throat as you gaped with loathing at Billy for a moment. God, you felt like a damn fish trying to breathe out of water. With a glare in your eyes, you clamped your mouth shut, which seemed to be a great amusement to Billy, whose smile widened as a laugh escaped him.
“God, you make it so easy.” He said, shaking his head, “You gotta lighten up, you know?”
You sigh loudly, eyes still staring at him harshly, “Whatever, Hargrove.”
You attempt to walk away once more, but yet again Billy snatches your wrist, “Wait, wait, wait…”
“Stop acting interested in me all of a sudden,” You try to shake your arm out of his hold again, but this time Billy’s grip is tighter, “I’m not in the mood.”
“Look,” his tone was firm as he instructed, “let’s go back over to the table, get some more work done, and I’ll give you a ride home.”
Your eyes narrowed into slits as you studied his face, “I don’t need a ride.”
“You don’t have a car.” He countered immediately.
“I don’t need a ride from you.”
“You don’t, but isn’t it generous that I’m offering?”
“More like devious.”
“I’ll be a total gentleman.”
You laughed right in his face, “You don’t even know the meaning of the word.”
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hoshigray · 3 months
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𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 | satoru gojō
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𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 : The start of the spring semester is supposed to be fresh and new, not be cramped up in a closet with your frenemy at a party! And what's worse: you actually like the feeling of his lips on yours!?
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Gojo x fem/afab! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern + college AU - frenemies to lovers - Gojo and reader are at least age 20 - implied that reader is a virgin - first kiss - awakening feelings - virginity loss - kissing/making out in a closet - thigh riding - grinding/humping - sex in shared rooms; college dorms (empty) - breast fondling + sucking + nipple play - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! receiving) - orgasm denial- clitoral play (sucking, pinching and swiping) - missionary position - protected sex (psa: wrap it up or get tf up) - pet names (baby, cutie, gorgeous, pretty, princess, sweetie) - cameos: Utahime, Geto, Shoko and Mei Mei - humor bc I'm [not] funny - mention of vaginal pain, spit and tears.
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 10.3k (i'm so sick...)
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: yessirrrr let's get this party started, shall we? >:333 plz enjoy the first part of this series!! and tysm for 5.3k !!! y'all are too kind && happy bday to my gal, jazzy!! hope you enjoyed your special day, jazzy jam c:
❤︎ « next story
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“GO FUCK YOURSELF, SATORU GOJO!”
“BETTER THAN FUCKING YOU, Y/N L/N!”
“They’re at it again already, huh?”
“Yeah, man, it’s going to two o’clock. Might as well enjoy the show.”
College is hard enough as is. The fact that you’re now back for the spring semester is tiring enough, wanting to get these classes over with and wrap this up. Spring, Easter, and Summer break are just right around the corner, the cherry on top for this exhausting second half of your junior year. Those are the end goals!
But alas, the semester just started. The students scramble around buying their textbooks and switching courses around, struggling to make final move-in decisions and already stressing over seasonal depression at this time of year. Spring semester, huh? Same old, same old.
Although there are negatives that make it nerve-racking, there are still good things that come with this junior year. Finally over with winter break, you’re excited to be back to living with your roommates, Utahime, Mei Mei, and Shoko! They’re your girlfriends for a reason; missing hanging and stressing with them as they made your college experience much better than you expected. 
And it doesn’t end there, either! You missed study sessions at the campus café with your second-year peers, Yu Haibara and Kento Nanami. The two best friends always help with your studies whenever you need it. And, of course, you can’t forget about their roommate and your friend, Geto. The tall, raven-haired Biology major is always looking out for you and paying visits to study with Shoko. There was even a time he helped with a mouse situation in your dorm! Poor Utahime that day – saw the rodent when she came out of the shower.
However, you’re not exactly thrilled to see everyone after coming back. You throwing a middle finger at someone on the opposite side of the pathway should be evidence of such. “Oh, go jump off a cliff, Gojo!”
“Hah! I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction!” Satoru Gojo was the direct roommate of Suguru Geto, best friend of his and Shoko, and was the star player of the campus basketball team. But most of all, he’s the kid you despise with every fiber of your being. “I’d be more entertained with you slipping on some ice.”
“Oh, you wish! I saw you slip on some ice yesterday on your way to Professor Yaga’s class.” You puff your chest with pride when you see the white-haired guy suck his teeth in annoyance. “Made my whole day, what a fucking moron. How about slowing down next time? You were late anyway!” 
Snowy brows furrow with a scoff. “God, you really are a perfect roommate for Utahime; the both of you are so tiny and angry at the world around you for no reason.” 
Utahime, standing beside you during this yelling competition, decides to chip in after that remark. She almost popped a vein, “WHAT THE HELL DID YOU SAY, SATORU!?” 
“You heard me!” He barks a laugh at the two of you, turning around to go on his way. “Heard it’s gonna snow later tonight. Be sure to find a nice, big, puffy jacket and some boots so the storm doesn’t sweep you away, Y/n~.”
“I’ll be sure to shove an icicle up your ass before that, you fucker!” You turn on your heel and stomp your way out of the scene, Utahime following your move. “Hmph! Hate his ass so much…”
“Tch, right there with you.” Your roommate sighs heavily to exude the aggression. “But damn, the way you two go at it is worse than mine.” 
She is not wrong; it’s true – everyone within the campus grounds knows how much you and Gojo can’t stand each other. It’s no secret; at least you two make that apparent everywhere you go. This little feud between you started freshman year with you two in the same first-year engagement program. Tiny disagreements turned into narrowed glares, which then pivoted into prominent arguments, and now here we are. 
You hoped that freshman year would be the last you’d ever see of that snow-haired prude. Unfortunately, you were wrong. The year after, you were unhappy to discover he’s best buds and roomies with Geto. And what’s worse is that you were ill-fated to share a class with him every semester — especially this one with Professor Naga for Contemporary Issues. Is this the universe’s way of punishing you for something? For what!?? 
You’ve been a good kid, doing what you can and getting the grades that brought you merit and accolades. So, you don’t get how this one guy with his stupid round sunglasses is getting under your skin. So fucking annoying…
You hate him. You hate everything about him. From the way he immediately gives you a smug look when you walk into the room and take your seat right in front of him. The way he surprises you from behind because he finds your reactions amusing. The way he relentlessly calls your name to get your attention when you’re obviously ignoring him, even when he doesn’t need you for something. 
It all makes you heated. You hate Satoru Gojo. I hate him so much!
“…hear me?…Y/n?”
You blink, realizing you were too deep in thought for your ears to pick up Utahime calling out for you. “Hmm? What’s up?”
She pulls out the keys to the dorm from her coat. “So? You coming along?”
Huh? “Where are you going?”
“To Haibara’s get-together?”
Oh, hell no! “No, Uta. I think I’ll stay here.”
The dark-haired girl watches you walk past her when she opens the door. “Why?? It’s the first Friday night of the semester; it’s not gonna be a big party or anything. Just close friends.”
“What are we talking about?” Shoko chimes in after leaving the bathroom, brushing her teeth with sleepy eyes. “Haibara’s thing tonight?”
Utahime nods hurriedly at the drowsy nursing student. “I’m trying to convince Y/n to come!”
The brunette shrugs at the comment, following you two to your room. “Well, it’s not like I’m going either.” She snickers when the eldest dark-haired roommate turns to her with a hurt expression. “Sorry. I already have notes I need to get behind on. You can tell the guys I said hi, though.” 
Another sigh leaves Utahime as she puts her bag on her desk. “…Mei Meiiiii,”
“Yesss~?” The fourth roommate calls out from the hallway. 
“Are you going?”
“Mmmm, not sure.” Mei Mei comes to the doorframe, her long silverish-blue hair done in pigtails with a green skin-care mask covering her face. “Got a meeting for my club to head to later. And even then, it might still be a while for me to join, depending on if people are hanging out afterward.” 
Now is when the Utahime whines to her hands before she turns back to you, sitting on your bed. “Y/n, please, come with me!”
You don’t give in to her cries. “No, think I’ll stay and keep Shoko company.”
But she doesn’t give up. “Please! It’s just a small group of friends and maybe a few classmates Haibara’s familiar with. No biggie!”
“Small group of friends, huh?”
“Yes!”
“You know who else are his friends?” You lift a brow when she does the same. “His roommates: Nanami, Geto, and—“
“Gojo…” Utahime completes your sentence in defeat, understanding why your reluctance is present. 
“Sorry, Uta. Maybe next time.” 
Now, you’re not saying you’ve never been to the guys’ place before; they reside on the other side of campus where senior housing is (Nanami’s pick because he’s an RA). However, it’s the first Friday night of the semester. Meaning it’s the first free weekend for most students. And you’re going to ruin everyone’s fun by being in the same place as Gojo? Yeah, no thanks.
That is until Mei Mei says, “Actually, I heard from a friend that the basketball team are planning on going out somewhere tonight.”
Shoko adds on while taking out her toothbrush to appropriately speak to her friends. “Yeah, now that you mention it, Gojo told me he probably won’t be at the place in the first place. Something about meeting up with a group for one of his classes.”
All separate reasons from different accounts, yet that only fuels Utahime to beam out of her mini-depression and face you once more. “See? Gojo won’t be there by the time we get there! He’ll be busy with a group project – or whatever – and will hang with his sports buddies. So, you up for it now?” 
Your brows trench down. “I…I don’t know—“
If there’s one thing the oldest roommate is good at, it’s not giving up. And it’s because she bats her pretty brown eyes and gives you the most grandiose pleading puppy face she can. It’s the oldest manipulation tactic in the book, yet it works by making your heart cringe.
Of all things to be dragged into now, it was a party? The semester just started, and you haven’t even touched a single piece of reading yet. Is this a good idea? You can’t really go based on the perspective of your roommates because what’ll happen on the off-chance you do see Gojo? The thought of it is already headache-inducing.
Then again, it’s the first time since last semester that you’ll be able to see the other guys. You didn’t say goodbye to Geto and Haibara before break because they were swarmed with finals, and Nanami was gone the moment he found out all his exams were take-home. You’re not much for parties, to be quite honest. Regardless, it would be nice to catch up on the gang and see how they’re doing before we all revert to non-stress-free college life.
You release a sigh through your nostrils before making your decision begrudgingly. “...Don’t make me regret this.”
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
I regret this so fucking much…
Well, this night was going to be quite a drag. Why? Let’s go over the reasons, shall we?
The party that was supposedly at Haibara’s dorm? So, it turns out, there was a change of plans, and to be relocated somewhere else — like outside campus grounds. Screw walking, you and Utahime had to go by car with Geto to go to the party, following down the main street into this big, beautiful neighborhood and parking by a big house. Perfect for housing an event for many people to drink, dance, and vibe.
Oh yeah, that was another thing, too; the many that were attending this fucking party. Word got out about the get-together, so, of course, lots of people wanted to come and celebrate the first weekend. So, not only are you outside campus grounds, but now you’re forced to interact with a crowd rather than a small group of people. You practically have been to every corner of the place to disassociate with people you didn’t know. 
So, where are you now? Upstairs in one of the bedrooms, where the bass of the speakers downstairs can be heard. You’re not alone — sitting in a circle with Utahime, Geto, and a couple of other kids who’re present at your university. What’s happening in the room? Just a chill game of truth, drink, or seven minutes in heaven; either you answer truthfully to a question, drink to avoid it, or go to the closet and do what you want with the person who spun the bottle on you.
But, there was nothing chill about the game, and the players would agree to that notion apprehensively. Because you most definitely silently dreaded every second of this entire night. Why? How about asking the person across you that you’ve been glaring at since you opened the bedroom door and saw his face?
Apparently, as word got out about the party, the college basketball team heard about it and decided to come and celebrate. Meaning the whole team is at this party. Let’s say that again: the entire basketball team – all the players – are here to enjoy the party.
The person who stood across from you sat criss-cross with long, jean-covered legs, leaning with his hands behind him, a navy blue sweatshirt, and dark round shades that cover his eyes that you know are looking dead at you. And a smug grin that patronizes you to the core.
You peer to your night, giving Utahime the nastiest look you can. And the eldest could only meekly mumble an “I’m sorry…” with twiddled thumbs.
Satoru Gojo looked at you, and you frowned right back at him. The tense atmosphere between you two was enough to suffocate the other players. Some would try to break the tension by playing the game. But even then, it was still strenuous. One girl rolled the bottle on Geto, to which he picked “truth” and answered her question: “How did you and Gojo meet?”
Even though he didn’t pick the option, he’d take a small swig of his beer. “Satoru and I have been friends since middle school — same with my other bud, Shoko. We’ve been inseparable since, and now we’re here. He can be an asshole, though, so watch out.”
A guy spun the bottle on Utahime and asked, “Were you ever interested in Gojo?” The raven-haired girl clicked her teeth and took a chug, drinking the whole thing in one sig. 
“Hmph! I’d rather drink sweat from Professor Gakunaji’s crusty beard and eyebrows!” She’d admit after a burp.
“Ahaha! That’s a sight I’d like to see,” Gojo would chuckle at her insult, prompting a few around him to laugh. “Bet you’d get more satisfaction from it than being with me anyway.” 
The senior rolls her eyes before opening another bottle. “Fucking bastard…”
Another spin to the bottle after a couple comes out of the closet all close and giggly. This time, it lands on you. Some bubbly girl who had her eyes all up on Gojo, her nipple piercings able to be seen from her crop tee, was the one who spun it. She asks you, “Y/n, could you please tell me why you hate Satoru so much?”
You couldn’t fight the twitch of your eye. Of fucking course. You’re in no mood to drink, and you barely know this girl to think of being in the closet with her. You exhale through your nostrils, “….We’re friends, to an extent.”
“To an extent?” She asked more questions with a naive tone. “But Satoru's so nice, no?”
Oh, drop it, will you? And why are you referring to him by his first name like you know him? “We’re—“
“They mean that we’re kinda friends, kinda not.” Of course, nothing can be to yourself because the white-haired nuisance went ahead and answered your question. “They’re friends with my roomies, and my friends are their roomies. So, I guess that makes us friends by association. At least that’s the only way to see it since we nearly argued our heads off freshman year.”
You scoff with narrowed eyes, “By association, huh.” 
He quirks a brow up. “Mhmm.”
Good God, the more you two throw invisible daggers at each other, the more uncomfortable people feel being in this room. Oh, but don’t worry; the night gets even worse. Three turns later, it was your turn to spin the bottle. And – sit with me here – just guess who it lands on? Bingo! Satoru Gojo.
The hushed gasps that filled the room were telling; it was bound to happen, but no one thought it would happen. The star-crossed haters spun the bottle and landed on each other. And since Gojo doesn’t drink (and he finds the questions rather lackluster), he chooses the closet. The gasps were louder that time, and your blood began to boil.
The first time it happened was uneventful; it’s what you preferred. After the door closed, you told him, “Don’t even think about touching me.” It was just pure silence for the entire seven minutes. You sat on one side of the emptied closet while Gojo was on the other. There were the occasional sniffles of your nose and his loud yawns. But other than that, you two stayed at your respective sides of the closet. Seven minutes of no words, just keeping to yourself and watching the lava lamp in your corner be your light. 
You two survived the first set of seven minutes, not a scratch on either of you, to everyone’s thankful stars. Keywords: first set. Because why wouldn’t there be more? 
When it got to Gojo’s turn, he spun the bottle and got you! So, here you are, walking into the closet again with your notorious opp. You swore to God this had to be the universe’s way of toying with you as if the start of this semester wouldn’t be a handful to deal with already. 
You’re back on your side of the closet, groaning at your hands. It’s okay, Y/n, calm down. You can sit through another seven minutes. You got this! Don’t even act like he’s there…
And so you compose yourself, watching the heated, yellow wax of the purple lava lamp prompt up to the top to cool and sink back down. Six minutes…Five…Four—
“So, let’s say, hypothetically,” your eyelids closed shut for your eyes to roll freely. “I asked for a little something-—“
“I guess I should’ve added no talking, too. Thought that was rather self-explanatory to you.” You shut him down quickly. “And I thought I said don’t even think of touching me.”
“Well, you’re not in control of my brain,” you don’t have to turn your head to know that the fucker is looking at you. “Besides, I did say hypothetically.”
This motherfucker… ”Well, then, I’d, hypothetically, break every single one of your fingers and give them to Mei Mei so she can sell them to all your fangirls.”
“Hah! Nice to know you see me of high value.” He shifts his feet around from their crisscrossed position. “Bet you’d keep one of them.”
You scoff. “Oh, don’t flatter yourself! I’m annoyed just from not looking at you; what the fuck would I need your stupid finger for.” 
“Hmmm, I can think of many, like—“
“Do not finish that sentence, Gojo.” Your tone dialed lower; a warning. He notices it, bringing his hands up defensively. 
“Jeez, lighten up, Y/n.” He says while leaning against the back wall. “With an attitude like that, no other guy or gal in that room will ever want to be in a closet with you.” 
Oh, you don’t say, fuckface! “I barely want to be in this closet with you. Hell, I didn’t even want to be here! I only came for Utahime, assuming it would be a small party…How the hell did you even get here? I thought the basketball team was going out somewhere.“ 
“Awww, you spying on me, Y/n?” Oh, you hate his fucking snicker, shoving a middle finger in his direction. “We were supposed to be at some restaurant joint, but a few of the crew flunked out on us and said they’d go to some ‘big party,’ then everyone wanted to go, and now we’re here. You know I don’t like alcohol, but I just tagged along because Suguru was here. I didn’t know about you, though.” 
You bring your hands to your face to sigh in private. “We gotta stop meeting like this…It’s like I can never escape you.”
“…Is that a bad thing?” 
You open your mouth to refute, but no words leave….Huh?
That was…..odd. Why did he ask that question like that: you couldn’t detect a remnant of childish malice he’d been throwing at you back and forth. Even when you faced him, his face was straight ahead. But when you don’t answer, his left eye goes to his peripheral to glimpse at you.
What the…Is he being genuine right now? 
You gaze at him briefly before turning away, “I….I don’t know.” He hums to your response. “….Do you think so?”
Gojo shrugs. “Can’t say so either.” You hum back, and the silence takes over once again.
Okay, now things are even more awkward. You came into this closet with irritation, yet somehow, it vanished into thin air. It was the one thing that’s been constant throughout this evening. Now that it’s gone, you can only replay the moment from a few seconds ago in your head. 
Is it a bad thing? Why would he ask that? Of course, it’s a bad thing! Has he forgotten how much hostility we have for each other? Jesus Christ….Wait, why did he say he didn’t know either? What does that even mean!!??
“You look nice.” 
You—……I’m sorry, what???
The way you snapped your head back to him, you could’ve sworn you heard your neck crack. Holy fuck, why the hell was he looking at you right now? His round glasses shine from the lava lamp, so you can’t see his eyes.
“Wh….What?” It was cold; the weather app said it would snow later tonight. Therefore, the temperatures and winds were unforgiving after sunset. So you took it upon yourself to dress warmly. It was all simple, just a white, long-sleeved halter blouse that matched your black skirt – it was the only nice thing you had outside of regular leggings. And you covered your legs with black pantyhoses but decorated with cute white knitted leg warmers. 
He repeated in a singing tune. “You look nice.”
When it came to the white-haired guy in this closet with you, there were rare moments where you felt as though you were shocked by him. This was beyond astounding, the comment continuing to ring throughout your ears.
You blinked at him before averting your eyes down to your hands, trying to distract the increase of heat on your cheeks by intertwining your fingers together. “….Thank you, Gojo.”
“Yeah, no problem,” he’d shrug again, chuckling to himself before adding on. “It’s way better than your other outfits. Baggy old sweatshirts, bags under your eyes even if you’re wearing glasses, sweatpants with stains. You look like a homeless librarian.”
Annnnnd just like that, with the drop of your quivering lip, all the warm feelings you felt for a minute evaporated in seconds. The anger returned with the twitch of a brow. “…Tch, gee, thanks. I can’t say the same for you.” 
“Oh, you know you look cute when you’re jealous~.”
You almost busted a nerve. Who the hell are you calling, cute? “As if. From the sound of it, you must be jealous of me; who told you to be looking and criticizing what I wear? Must be rough not being able to wear comfortable clothes all the time, huh?”
“Shut the hell up,” he finally snaps, and you stick your tongue out in victory.
“No, I’ll keep going! I’m sorry, Mr. Perfect, but not everyone wants to put on their best outfits to impress you, not like your fangirls who get their best bras to push up their breasts for you to notice.”
“Huh, you lookin’ at other girls' boobies? Wow, Y/n, never took you as a pervert.” He laughs at your stare of pure anger. “You are jealous, huh? That I’m talking at other girls and not you? Awww, don’t be so selfish; there’s plenty of me to go around!” 
You snarl at him. “Ugh, you’re so gross! I don’t want anything to deal with you. So all those girls can have you and rip you to shreds for all I care. Let them know how much of a big fucking baby the wonderful, amazing Satoru Gojo is when he drops his ice cream on the floor and cries on Geto’s shoulders. Or that you’re such a lightweight that you accidentally vomited in Nanami’s cup one time, which he threw at you...Or maybe I should tell them.”
His brows furrow, “You wouldn’t dare.”
“I would, and then some.” You sneer. “In fact, I’ll go downstairs, grab that red punch, and spill it right on you in front of that girl next to you. I’ll make your hair look like strawberry shaved ice.” 
He leans his cheek against his fist with a huff. “I take it back; you don’t look nice at all. So uncute.”
You gasped with trenched brows. “Excuse me!?”
“You heard me, you’re uncute!” Yup, today was the day: you’re going to choke the hell out of this motherfucker. “I feel bad for any guy who'd wound up in this closet with you, dealing with such a little devil.” 
“You’re one to talk, dickhead! I’d much rather be stuck in this closet with anyone else — even Geto!”
“Taah, as if! I bet you never even had your first kiss with such an attitude like that.”
Again, you open your mouth to say something, yet words evade you at that very moment. And Gojo catches it quickly. Because his brows raise, lifting his head back up, eyes scanning your face. 
Oh fuck.
“...”
Don’t.
“….Y/n,”
Don’t say it.
“You never had your first ki—“
BEEP!! BEEP!! BEEP!!
He couldn’t finish that sentence, thank God, because the phone alarm from the outside rang. Seven minutes are up — this session is up, so you quickly stood up and opened the closet door. 
With swift feet, you sit back next to Utahime, your eyes downcast to the bottle, avoiding Gojo’s feet coming around and taking his spot across from you. Your roommate perks at your silence, “You okay, Y/n?”
A nod is offered to her, “Yeah, I’m fine.” No, you weren’t. Your heart was pounding like crazy, your skin dropping in color. And you can feel the eyeballs from across boring into your being. “Let’s just keep playing.”
And so the game carried on from Gojo’s turn. Your eyes could only ever look at the bottle, hoping it would never land on you from there on out. But that would be the easy way out, and – as life is – nothing goes your way when you want it to be.
Because when it gets to your turn, you watch with patient eyes as the glass spins on the cold hardwood floor. One spin goes by, and another swings around. Finally, it stops, the neck of the bottle pointing vertically from you, and your whole figure washes in apprehension with the hushed sounds of exclamation of the other people in the room. 
Alas, the bottle pointed to Gojo. It was inevitable – you couldn’t avoid his presence since the last session anymore. You look at him, your brows scrunched with mercy. But he points to the closet with his chin, and you follow his lead to the small space with anxiousness at every step. 
Back to your respective stations in the closet. You can only use the mesmerizing wax of the lava lamp as a sort of comfort – a distraction for your nerves that are at an all-time high. Why were you so nervous? All he did was ask if you ever had your first kiss taken.
Yeah, that’s the problem! Why did he have to know that!? Ughhhh, I should’ve just lied or something…Now what? Will he make fun of me for not having my first kiss taken yet? What is this, middle school!?? The thoughts in your head were a battle to deal with, one personal worry after another.
But all that washes away when the silver-haired guy finally breaks the quiet after a minute. “…Wanna kiss me?”
It felt like your heart dropped at that abrupt question; the warm circulation coursing through your body transitioned to an ice-cold sensation. Your breathing stops, and your eyes shoot wide at the person you’re with. “….Wha….What did you say?”
He doesn’t hesitate at your request. “Wanna kiss?”
Have….Have you lost—“your mind!? Why would you ask me that??” You whisper yelled at him so the people outside don’t hear you.
He shrugs nonchalantly. “Why not?”
Why not?!? “Gojo, you can’t be serious. Just because I never had my first kiss doesn’t mean I need it to happen this instant! Are you that much of a horndog that you’d ask—“
“Let me explain, alright!?” He yells in whispers back with a hand raised to stop your rambling, and you hold your tongue. “Listen, I’m not asking to be a dick, okay? I just thought that…ya know, being in a place full of strangers, someone’s bound to be in this closet with you and ask you for a kiss.”
Your face screws to a magnificent expression of confusion you could ever contour. “Why are you concerned about who I kiss? It’s not like I’d agree or—“
“Yeah, but like, what if they did, huh?” His sky-blue eyes peek from above his sunglasses. The sharpness they carried told you he was serious about this — like he was serious about you. That…That was so off of him. “What if some weirdo forces themselves on you, and me and Suguru can’t help you in time, huh? I can think of two guys in this room who’d probably do that.” 
It takes a few seconds for you to soak in his words, “….So? What are you getting at?” He opens his mouth but stops from saying something, his pointer finger up but back to a fist. You could tell; whatever he was thinking had him in mental turbulence.
He releases a deep sigh before saying, “I’m just…I’m saying, wouldn’t it be better to have your first kiss with someone you know, at least?”
You couldn’t believe he was saying such things to you. “And…you think you’re the one I should….kiss?”
“….I don’t hear a no.” 
You wanted to refute that statement — challenge him or prove him wrong! You looked at his face, examining every feature to find an indication that whatever he was saying was just a way to get under your skin. He loves to poke fun at you, so why wouldn’t he use this as a perfect opportunity?
However, you couldn’t find anything. His eyes were sincere, stationed right back on yours. You saw his Adam’s apple move from a gulp, letting you know that he was a little nervous, too. And your gaze drifted to his mouth, the thought of his lips being on yours staining your brain for the first time. It was scary to think about, your heart racing to no end. 
“Y/n,” he said your name so quietly that you almost missed it. “Do you trust me?”
What an odd question to ask in this awkward atmosphere. Do you trust Satoru Gojo, the boy you would smack with a given chance? He’s undoubtedly the most annoying person you’ve ever bumped into — a thorn in your side since freshman year. He is such a tactless fool, doing and saying whatever he thinks comes to mind, picking on you like you were a child, and not taking you seriously when you wanted him to. You could list many things that you saw wrong with this guy.
Yet, he wasn’t the worst. There hasn’t been an instance where you felt uncomfortable around him, only annoyance. He was friends with Geto and Shoko; that alone should be enough to tell you he’s someone worth depending on. And even when you two would be tasked to do something together, you’d surely click your tongue and bicker until the cows came home. But at the end of the day, you still knew how to work with one another and get the job done.
In all things considered, Satoru Gojo was an irritant. Even so, he was an irritant you could depend on — to trust. 
Breathing was a hard thing to do, taking in air and exhaling excruciatingly slow. You chew on your bottom lip and give him a curt nod. “I…I trust you, Gojo.”
He lets your answer sink in for a bit before he moves his position, his back to the wall while facing you, legs straight down to the ground. He pats on a thigh, “C’mere.”
Hesitance was there for a split second, but you followed his command and quietly maneuvered your way toward his direction, situating on top of his legs. Of course, you were anxious as hell; your ears and cheeks shared a warmth unbearable to host. Your figure being so close to his, you had to be dreaming. 
But you weren’t. The hands he placed on your waist prove so, earning a gasp to leave you. His voice is low for just the two of you to hear. “Put your hands on my shoulders…Ya scared?” A slow nod is what you give him, and he chuckles lightly. “It’s okay. Try closing your eyes for me. Relax, I’m not gonna do anything dumb.”
He only said that because of that look you gave him. He is going to do something to you — just nothing too rash. 
“Trust me, pretty.”
Pretty? Yes, he just called you pretty. You were used to him calling you dumb names to get you riled up, yet none nearly sweet and fitting the mood like this one. It made your heart skip a beat.
With that, you held back reluctance when closing your eyelids. It made you a little uneasy, unable to see him in front of you, what he was doing, what he looked like while having you on him like this.
Suddenly, you squeak when something softly presses down to your clavicle. It was his lips. 
He snickers, “Ya know, I gotta admit.” He brings his mouth up your neck with kisses, your breath shaking with every peck, and your hands clinging onto his sweatshirt. “It’s kinda nice seeing you be all shy on top of me like this.”
“Go..jo...” you flinch at his soft kiss on your forehead, his hands rubbing your sides.
“Don’t do that. Call me by my first name.” You can feel him bringing a hand to your cheek, caressing your bottom lip gently with his thumb. “I know you know it. I wanna hear it with your voice.”
Holy fuck, this got intense way too fast. He brings his nose close to yours, and you shiver at the contact. It only means he’s mere centimeters away. Thank God your eyes were closed now because you swear you’d turn to stone if you snuck a peek.
“S..Sa…Toru—Mmmph!?“
And there it was, the inexorable. Gojo’s lips fleshed with yours softly, nothing too explicit or unpleasant for you. It was a simple kiss, yet it felt so foreign to you. Your first kiss had been with Satoru Gojo. What a momentous day.
It lasted a few seconds, your body stiff and hands balled to fists nonetheless. He removes from you with a soft noise between your lips, the heat from his face taken with him now that you have space to breathe. You open your eyes for him.
“There ya go,” he says with a small smile, stroking your cheek with his thumb while his forefinger plays with your earlobe. “Was it so bad?”You huffed, shaking your head no. Gojo hums, the hand on your waist gripping your flesh faintly. “….Can I kiss you again?”
Your breath hitched. It was a tiny request. One more wouldn’t hurt, right? You nod, closing your eyes again and awaiting his move.
Gojo leans in and claims your lips again, a soft hum from him when his face is back on yours. The next one was a little more risqué than the last, your bottom lip being taken by his playfully. The third kiss was where the mood dialed to a more wanton plane, him nibbling on your lip to allow him access. It’s here that Gojo can’t contain the reins, removing his glasses, “Come here, cutie.”
And you can’t help yourself either, succumbing to these smooches while wrapping your arms around his neck. Gojo’s no better, snaking his hand to the back of your neck and his other sneaking down to your butt.
You break the kiss to inquire, “Hahhh—…you pervert,” your eyes half-lidded. 
He puffs a laugh, “Whaaat? I thought you’d like me to be touchy.”
You don’t admit anything to him, just slamming your face to his again. You decided to be a little adventurous and lick his lips. Gojo senses the initiative and takes your tongue to suck on. The whimper you let out was too cute, egging him on to suck and tease the muscle more. 
It makes you dwell in the moment more, your limbs no longer stiff, yet your hips subtly move voluntarily. The friction from your groin rubbing on his jean-covered thigh was strangely enticing, your restraint becoming lesser the more you moved. And it gets worse after both Gojo’s hands creep into your skirt and tease your ass with squeezes.
“Ahhh, mmmm, Satoru..” you wailed. 
“Relax, baby,” there it goes again, another cute pet name to call you. He really knew how to get you going. “Let me take care of you….Mmmm”
He shoves his tongue into your mouth – not too forceful to scare you, but enough to get that he is impatient. You moan to his mouth, a hand grabbing tuffs of his snowy hair. 
His nose is pressed to your cheek like yours, and it’s getting harder to breathe now that things are getting intimate. But it all felt good, and the mood was just right. You rub your chasm onto his leg, which he lifts just a bit to make grazing your groin a little better. And God, the way his hands groped your butt, it turned you on even more. 
Ohh fuck, tongues swirl around each other, your head begins to pound, and your ears ring from the heat on your face.. Oh, God, you could feel a hand come up to the top of your stocking, teasing its way down your skin and to the hem of your underwear. Please, please—
BEEP!! BEEP!! BEEP!!
Even so, everything freezes in time, and both you and Gojo stop whatever you’re doing. Lips still on lips, your ass on his lap, and his middle and forefinger barely grazing the crack of your ass. It’s here that everything hits you all at once: you are not the only one here — you’re not even in your room! You’re still at the party you were dragged into, in some stranger’s bedroom closet, smooching with your supposed most hated person. 
You immediately withdraw from him, Gojo removing his hands from you to put up defensively. Your hands rush to cover your lips, which are wet from spit. A thousand thoughts run around your head. Holy shit, what the hell was I doing!? Did I really just kiss Gojo? Satoru Gojo!? What was I thinking!!?
And Gojo didn’t say anything, only gauging your reaction to see what goes from here. The light from the lava lamp behind you is sheltered, your silhouette drawn to cover the guy in front of you. 
I need to leave. That’s your final thought, taking an immediate stand and storming out of the closet. Utahime noticed you make a beeline to the door, and the roommate pursues right behind you down the stairs. She moves past drunk dudes to grab your wrist, “Y/n! What’s wrong – are you okay?”
It’s time to lie. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just tired, you know.” You lead her to the broom closet where all the initial guests’ jackets were stored. You grab for yours and put it on, “I think I’m just gonna call an Uber and head back to campus before the snowfall.” 
Her face contorts to an expression of worry. “Are you sure? I’ll come with you; this place bugs any—“
“No, no. You don’t have to worry, Uta.” You place a hand on her shoulder before she can move another step. 
“When you say it like that, I can’t help but worry.”
Your lips twinge to a smile to display faux comfort. “It’s okay, really. You don’t have to ruin your fun for me. Besides, I saw some underclassmen waiting to speak with you all night somewhere down here.”
Utahime doesn’t buy it, and you knew she doesn’t. But thankfully, she doesn’t try to fight with you and gives you the okay. She watches you open the door before leaving, “Make sure you call or text me when you get to our dorm!”
It made you laugh; the girl can be such an older sister. “Don’t worry, Shoko’s still there, remember? Cya later, have fun!”
“Bye, be careful!” A final warning to you before the roommate closes the door for you.
You spoke too soon. Now outside, snow was already falling to the ground, probably a few minutes earlier since it wasn’t sticking to the ground yet. The little cold flakes touching the skin of your face were almost remedial, evening out the warmth of your cheeks.
You use this moment to recuperate from what transpired in that house. It was so out of the ordinary and was completely weirding you out, but not in a terrible way. It was more like odd-ish, strange, downright out of the norm. The more you think about it, visiting back to the senses of your hands in his hair, his slender fingers teasing the flesh of your butt, and the pillowy sensation of his lips glued to yours while whispering sweet things…..
….Nope, the cold was not helping at all. There goes the warmness creeping back on your cheeks and ears. Let me hurry and get the fuck out of here, grabbing for your phone and unlocking it to find the Uber app.
“Y/n!”
But before your thumb could press on the application, you instinctively turned around to see the door was open again. And the person who called out to you had your breath come to a complete stop.
Gojo closed the door behind him, coming down the driveway while hurriedly putting on his grey Chesterfield coat. “Fuuuuuck, it got cold quick!”
“G–Gojo!” You stuttered when out by the time he could make it to you. “What’s up? What are you—“
“I saw you weren’t in the bedroom, and Suguru told me you headed downstairs. You could’ve told me you were leaving; that fox with bangs was giving me an earful,” he stuffs his hands in his pockets and then curses. “Fuck, I should’ve checked for my gloves before I left….Anyway, where are you heading off to?” 
You were a little taken aback. “Uhhh, back to the dorms?”
“Great!” He wraps an arm around your shoulders and walks with you down the road. “My car’s over there; let’s hurry before we freeze to death.”
Huh? “Hurry where??”
“Huh? We’re going back to campus, no?”
We!? “Together!?”
“Yeah?”
“Gojo, please!” You promptly removed yourself away from Gojo, standing in front of him. “Why are you doing this? Why are you being all nice now?”
He shrugged “Ehhhh? Are friends not supposed to give friends rides back home?”
“No, not us! We aren’t friends; we’re friends to an extent, remember!?”
“Ahhh, stop being a baby. You act as if you’ve never been in my car before.” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Yeah, but not when I’m alone with you, dummy! “C’mon, it’s gonna get colder with this snow.”
“Okay, just—Stop!” Your hands go up to prevent him from getting any closer to you. He stops, the fallen flakes camouflaging with his hair. “Gojo….you understand what just happened back there, right?”
He doesn’t say anything, only a single nod. 
“So, you know that my mind is going at like a hundred miles per hour right now.”
“….Yeah.”
“Okay….So, just please…I need a minute.” Your face goes to your feet to divert your thoughts elsewhere because you don’t know if you could handle looking at the white-haired man for a mere second.
Gojo looks at you mumble to yourself, avoiding him. He releases a deep sigh, walking towards you and lifting a side of his coat to shield you two from the windows of the house party. “…You’re doing it again.”
His shoes come to your direct line of sight, your heart pounding even more. “…Doing what?”
“The thing where you push people out whenever you feel overwhelmed.” You flinch when his finger grazes the back of your palm. “Don’t do that, not right now. I want you to talk to me.”
What is there to talk about? You could’ve said that to throw him off — be avoidant to this whole conversation. But it’s futile after he brings your chin up to face him. 
“Did I make you uncomfortable back there?”
“….No.” 
“Then what’s wrong?”
“I….I don’t know.” Honestly, you did not know. Your mind had too much to go through; so many memories and phrases from moments ago hit you all at once. You’re fighting the urge to tremble — not from the cold, but from overstimulation of brain power and senses.
His eyes are still fixed on you, noting you chewing on your lip. “Come with me.” The sudden revelation quirked your eyebrows up. “Whatever’s going on with you is obviously because of me. So, I’d feel like a dick if I just let you leave because of me. Plus, there’s no way you’re getting an Uber from here. Shit is like $20, I checked.”
“Gojo, I—“ he silences you with a kiss on your forehead. The feel of his lips on your skin again almost made you shut down.
“Sorry,” he whispered while placing his forehead on yours. You never really noticed how tall he was until he did that, your heart skipping again. “I’ll make it up to you. Promise.”
Picture it: you are out in the cold with Gojo, snow falling down silently onto your figures, him bringing his coat up to shield you from the world. If you were naive enough, you’d mistake this as a scene from a fairy tale. And how he was looking at you, too; his sunglasses were back on, but you could make out the blue orbs that lingered on yours. It’s as if he didn’t want to look at anything else. Just you and only you. 
You don’t know where the hell this side of confidence came from, but you lifted your hands to cup his cheeks and bring him in for another kiss. Cold lips instantaneously warm up at each other’s contact, Gojo leaning into your touch more. 
Snow continues to fall and stick, and the music from the house can still be heard from the outside. Yet it doesn’t bother you because it all drowns out in this moment you feel with him. Whatever these feelings you are experiencing are something new — scary, but new. And for some reason, it felt right to have them for him.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
A sheet of white cascades over the university grasses, students’ cars topped with sprinkles of snowflakes, and the lampposts emit a glow that fits the dark, cloudy weather. 
You were back on campus but not in your dorm where you told Utahime you’d be. You did text her when you arrived, so she doesn’t have to worry too much for you. In turn, she texted back that something had come up and is going to another event with Haibara and some other friends. She said she wouldn’t be back until tomorrow morning; it sounds like she’s having a good time. 
The same thing goes for Geto, only that the raven-haired boy called Gojo to say he’d be home in the morning because he was getting “private” with someone he met at the party. “Will be back in the morning. Don’t cause a fire alarm like last time, you dork." 
Haibara is supposedly with your roommate, meaning he won’t be back until the morning, either. The only person left to account for would be Nanami, who is currently away for the weekend because he had to visit home to grab last-minute things from break. 
That leaves only you inside their apartment – in Gojo’s room on top of his bed with your top and bra down on the carpeted floor, along with Gojo’s sweatshirt and jeans. His bed is like any other twin bed for college dorms, a little impossible to move around for two people and limited positions. Nonetheless, to start things off slow, you lie comfortably on his bed with your head to his pillow as he crawls above you and works from above.
Gojo is straddled on top of you, kissing your lips and sucking on your tongue, evoking the prettiest wails he’s ever heard. Your hands find purchase on his shoulders while his are busy roaming your body.
The kiss is broken when you gasp at the contact of his pinkie grazing a nipple on your breast. “Ahhnn, Satoru, don’t touch…Mmmph!”
“Hmmm, what, gorgeous?” He places his lips from your chin down to your neck, sucking on your skin and leaving ticklish nibbles. “Don’t touch what?”
“M–My ni—Ohhoo!” He gives the hardened bud a tweeze, and your cry results from the sudden action. 
He chuckles, “So cute.” Kisses travel down from your collarbone, your breasts, and finally, your other unattended nipple. A whimper leaves your lips at the wet sensation of his tongue swirling around the sensitive nob, and you shriek when he takes it into his mouth. The frequent grazes of his teeth and the tongue pushing your nipple to the roof of his mouth — it all felt surreal.
Yet, it wasn’t as surreal as the next thing he was about to do. Sucking on your tit was the perfect distraction for him to sneak a hand down into your pantyhose, sinking it to the lower regions of your underwear. You gasp at the feeling of a digit pressing on the wet spot of your underwear.
“W–Mmmph…’toru, wait…” you pat him on his shoulder to get his attention, yet he doesn’t lift from your breast yet. “Don’t—Stop, it’s embarrassing—Khhmm!“ Shivers shoot up your spine after Gojo uses his middle and forefinger to go in between your panty-covered folds. Your wetness sticks onto him the more he rubs. 
Gojo lets go of your nipple with one last suck, the cool air chilling the wet bud. “Awww, is my lil’ princess shy?” You could only answer in pants and puffs, his blue eyes surveying your entire body laid out for him. “Heh, shit, you look so good...Hmm? Hey, you got a tear down here.”
“Huh?” You follow his eyes down to your tights, bringing your attention to a worn-down incision where Gojo’s hand is between the material and your underwear. It must’ve been from when I was grinding on him earlier today…
The snow-haired boy removes his hand from inside your tights and uses both to make the rip bigger. Your eyes shot wide, “Wha—What are you doing?”
“Making it easier to see your pussy.” He continues to tear a hole big enough for the damp spot of your pussy to be prevalent. 
Your face dials up in warmth at the vulgar word. “You could’ve just taken them off, you idiot…”
“Pssh, that’s no fun. Besides,” Gojo uses a thumb to remove the panty barrier to reveal what he’s wanted to see the moment you crawled up on his bed. Your bare cunt, wet substance glistening the pretty folds of your labia. He bites his lip. “I’ve been dying to see this pretty thing you’ve been hiding from me.”
Your hands rush to cover up your vagina, “D-Don’t say such embarrassing things, Gojo!”
“Hey, hey, let me see it,” his hands are used to pull yours aside, your slit throbbing from his gaze without your control. “And what did I say about calling me by my last name?”
It was a force of habit, dummy. “...Just be gentle, okay, Satoru?”
He beams a smile at you, the dimples on his cheek prevalent with his childish manner. “I will, princess! Now, what’s goin’ on here…” 
He ditches his head down to your chasm, giving the inviting genitalia a slow lick up to your clitoris. You bucked your hips in shock, jerking at the sudden intrusion of his tongue situating between your slit. He uses his hands to keep your legs still while he sucks and teases your vagina.
You grab for his hair, “—Khhaa!! Ohhh, ohhfuckkk, Satoru, no—Ohhh!!” Your eyes screw shut, mouth open to let your cries fly out. 
It only pushes Gojo to keep going, his tongue ravaging your folds as if he’s going to lick you clean. And when he sucks on clit? Holy fuck, you could’ve sworn your soul left your body right there and then.
“Satoruuu!! Ohhhshit, ohhhh…Mmmph,” the noises that come from the commotion below of Gojo’s tongue lapping and slurping your essence were so pornographic to the ears as if they’d melt on the spot. “Oh, God, I’m gonna cum, I think I’m gonna…Nnmmph!”
Gojo hears you; that’s why he removes his mouth from your clit before you can experience your orgasm. You throw an unsatisfied whine at him, a shit-eating grin apparent on his face. “Sorry, cutie. But I wanna have a feel for you first.” He straightens his posture and spreads your legs for him. You follow his hands that land at the hem of his boxer briefs, where a tent protrudes until his erection is sprung out with one fell swoop.
The erect limb you gawked at was definitely something you weren’t mentally prepared enough to see. Your eyes take in every single detail you can: from his pink tip, where precum exudes from the urethra down to the underside of his cock, to the long body curved slightly to the left. A whole living a breathing dick — and it’s Gojo’s dick, of all things. It was oddly pretty, you had to admit. 
“Ya ready?” You snap back to reality when Gojo calls out to you as he scoots forward to you after putting the condom on, the cockhead aligning with your labia. You hold your breath at the proximity, “Listen to me, Y/n. Since this is your first time, I need you to take deep breaths and try to relax for me. Think you can do that for me?” You sigh through your nostrils, but you nod. “Heh, good. Now stay still, and let me know if it hurts, okay, princess?”
He lightly pushes his glans to your labia, swirling it around to warm you up before kissing the entrance of your vagina. He begins to propel into you, and you begin to brace yourself for the pain that accompanies his insertion. You grab the pillowcase, your teeth clinging to your bottom lip as tears well up. But you remind yourself to breathe, drawing out as much of an exhale for Gojo to shove the tip in.
And when it does get in, you release the loudest gasp you’ve ever expressed that night! Your body froze stiffly as Gojo plunged more of his length into you; the curve scraping your side caused such an exhilarating spike in your nerves that your walls immediately began clenching around him. 
Oh fuck, It’s coming, I’m gon— “Ahhhh!”
And just like that, your orgasm that was avoided before came back in seconds., the walls of your slit fluttering on Gojo’s cock like crazy, electric shocks climbing up to your head and pulling you in for a haze.
The sudden contraction of you makes Gojo hiss, “—Fuuuck, you’re gripping me like crazy…! Damn, you feel so fucking good…” He continues to push himself onto you until the base rises your southern lips and grinds his pelvis, which only fuels your screams even more with the overstimulation. “—Khhh! D-Damn…did you cum, baby?”
You can’t even form a proper sentence, your lower half feeling too full to speak, and your figure trembling from the crescendo. 
Your expression has Gojo bend down to laugh. “Never had that happened before. Heh, glad I could make you cum for the first time. Congrats, pretty…” Pillowy lips claim yours again, taking your whines and whimpers as he roughly grinds his hips to you.
Gojo begins moving his hips at a slow pace, letting you adjust to his size and shape. However, the peak has made your entire lower body dial-up in sensitivity, your back arching to him every time your clit is barely touched. Tears have long fallen since he successfully entered inside you.
Jesus, the fucking curve of his shaft was so fucking dangerous! Not only was the feeling of his veins coming to and fro with your inner walls had you twitching, but the way the tip of his cock was scratching and poking every spot that had you humming was so unfair. Especially now, when he changes the rhythm to a faster cadence, you’re bound to come again! 
“Ohooo, ahahhh, Sa-‘toru…! Ughhh, Jesus, it feels so….Hooohhh!!” Your words slurred in between kisses, almost choking on your tongue with the slap of his balls hitting your taint. 
“Yeah, baby…—Ohhh, shit, shit, shiiiit…!” You feel so good to Gojo; he can’t help but slam onto you with all his might. Your nails were causing eclipses on the skin of his shoulders. He didn’t mind; he knew it was because you were feeling good, too. “Hnngh…How’re you feelin’, Y/n? Hmm?”
“—Eeshh!! I–I…don’t know…” Your brain was too mushy to think adequately, too distracted by what was between your legs.
But Gojo wasn’t buying that mess. “Ohoho, I think you do know, sweetie.” The tall silver-haired boy creeps a hand down to your clit to give it a pinch. You scream, your legs wrapping around his hips involuntarily. “How’re you feeling?”
“—Fuuuhucck!! It feels good,” There, you finally said it. “It feels soo good…Hic–pleaseeee, make me feel good, ‘toruuuu!!”
He puts his forehead to yours before kissing it. “God, you’re so fucking, cute…” 
Gojo increases his tempo to an erratic fashion, your howls bouncing off the walls with every plunge of his dick inside you. Your gummy walls clamp onto him while his fingers swipe around your clitoris, and more tears strike down your wet cheeks. 
The familiar tingling sensation from before begins to climb up. Oh, God, it’s happening again. “Ahhooo—OhmyfuckingGooood!! I’m gonna cum again, I’m gonna cummm…! Aiiishh, ahhhhh!!”
And there it goes, your second crescendo hitting you like a wall. Your walls twitch around Gojo’s length again, prompting the man above you to impetuously thrust in a harsh motion, evoking more choked sobs from your puffy lips. And when he dwells into a finish of his own, you can feel his limb pulsate along with your contractions withering away.
The two of you heave and pant close to each other before Gojo slumps his body on your nude figure, allowing him to rest while he pumps his load into your stimulated cunt. The sheets beneath you stick to your sweaty skin, the air of Gojo’s huffs tickling your neck. 
When you feel your body subsided from the excitement, you two turn to each other. Noses touching each other, eyes locked into each other’s stares. 
“….So,” he’s the first to speak in a whisper. “…What does this make us?”
His eyes were so alluring to look at, like looking at the most beautiful azure gems in your adjacency. “…I’ll punch you if you say I’m your girlfriend.”
That has him chuckling in shaky breathes. “Fair enough, but it’d be dumb if we didn't talk after this.”
A curt nod in agreement, “…Is there a thing called frenemies-with-benefits?”
“Pfft, I don’t know, but why not? I wouldn’t mind.” Gojo then decides to get up and finally remove himself from you, slowly taking out his cock with the condom. The bed creaks when he leaves to remove the plastic and wrap it to discard it. “You okay?”
You ponder for a few seconds before coming to an honest answer. “I think so…My pantyhose isn’t fine, though, you fiend.” 
He flashes another smile at you, his dimples taking your heart away. “Yeah, yeah, sorry about that. I’ll get you another pair.”
“You better.” 
BZZZT!! BZZZT!! BZZZT!!
Before you could get off the bed, a vibration came from Gojo’s dresser top. It was his phone, the caller ID reading as “punk-boy bangy wannabe” 
You blink and give the phone to Gojo after he puts his sweatshirt back on. With raised brows, he says, “It’s Suguru?” His thumb presses the green button before bringing the device to his ear while he puts his limp dick back in his boxers. “Yo. Wassup?”
“Okay, good, you picked up. I’m getting in the elevator right now to grab something from the room real quick. Open the door for me, will ya?”
The white-haired roommate couldn’t express his shock in time because Geto ended the call before he could have the chance. He turns to you slowly, and you can tell whatever he’s going to say isn’t good based on that dumb look on his face. “Suguru's coming up…now.”
Panic spiked up as it rightfully should. You were still braless and topless, for Christ’s sake! And wearing torn tights!? Something you did not want Geto to see in the likes of his and Gojo’s room. “W–What should I do?!”
Gojp quickly scans the room for a plan, immediately pointing to a door to his right. “Hide in my closet!” He hurries to grab the door open. “Quick, grab your clothes and get in here!”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake…!” You grab for everything in your direct line of sight, making a straight beeline to the closet when you’ve got everything. “Don’t forget my shoes at the front; just quickly hide them somewhere!”
“Okay, okay—“
“I’m serious, Gojo! Do not do anything stupid!”
“I heard you, jeez.” He watches you move around the closet, moving his shoes to one side while trying to hide behind one of his suits. Jesus, you looked real cute even when you were scared. “…Hey.”
You peer up at him, moving his blazer so he could see your complete face. “What?”
“Be careful not to leave your panties here ‘cause I might not give them back.”
The last thing Gojo saw within that second was one of his dress shoes thrown dead at his face. His hands come to his stinging nose and cheek, exclaiming at the pain with a loud groan. “Fucking pervert, quit playing dumb games and get my shoes!”
I take it fucking back. He slams the closet door closed. “So uncute…”
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© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 ❤︎ reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ dividers by @/cafekitsune & @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.
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₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞
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pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader
summary: ❝the summer’s hot, and i’ve been waiting for you all this time.❞ — rafe finally comes back home from his two-month long family vacation, surprising you in the middle of the night.
warnings: established relationship, ward overhears you and rafe on the phone, dry humping, heavy petting, oral (f receiving), face sitting, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, unprotected sex
word count: 2.3k
a/n: it literally makes me so happy when i see the feedback you guys give me, especially when you show your support by reblogging or simply liking. i love and appreciate every single one of you <333 series masterlist
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“you’re actually lying.” tears were already forming in your eyes as rafe spoke on the other line. “i wish i was, baby. we were supposed to fly back in this morning but some weather shit got in the way, so we’re kinda stuck here until they let us know when there’s another flight available.” you sighed, trying your best to keep your voice from shaking. “have you asked the airport people already?” there was a slight pause before rafe answered.
“they said it could be weeks since the hurricanes here get pretty crazy.” weeks?! you thought you could die right now. “i’m so mad my parents didn’t let me go.” the tears were falling now. you and rafe had never been apart for this long. with all the built up anticipation, you couldn’t help but get youreself excited and hopeful about seeing him today, just for all of it to come crashing down with a single phone call. “i wish you were here too, babe. i got you a bunch of stuff from the shopping centers here, i think you’ll love it.” you wanted to cry harder because of how sweet he was.
“aww, you didn’t have to do that for me, baby.” you cooed, your heart fluttering in your chest when you heard the smile in his voice. “at least you’re going on winter vacation with me.” you nodded, trying to stay as positive as you can. “that’s true. i can’t help but to think my parents are trying to torture me or something,” you laughed, “they heard the words ‘shared hotel room’ and freaked out.” rafe shook his head even though you couldn’t see him. “they did, right?” he glanced at the tv, the weather report still the same.
“yeah, but rightfully so i guess. could you imagine if we shared a room for two months?” you bit your lip at the idea. “it’s a good thing we didn’t tell them that we’d have a whole cabin to ourselves in december.” you shut your eyes for a moment, wishing so bad that you could speed up the time. “you need to come back to me already. i’m sad and horny.” rafe snorted at your words. “hey, at least we know we could have amazing phone sex.” before you could respond, you heard what sounded like ward in the background.
“come on, rafe. seriously man?” you gasped, shooting up from your bed. “rafe! i thought you were somehwere private!” your cheeks were on fire with how hard you were blushing right now. “tell ward i said hi.” rafe did as you asked, a muffled ‘hey, sweetheart.’ sounding on the other line. “wheezie and sarah there?” as if you could be anymore mortified right now. “nah, they went to a gift shop with rose.” thank, god. “well, i told lia that i’d go with her to the beach for a little, so i better start getting ready.” you put him on speaker, opening your drawer that had all your bikini’s in it.
“all right, i’m gonna let you go babe,” rafe sighed, “i’ll update you as soon as i find something out.” you chose a top, and grabbed a pair of jean shorts as you started changing. “okay. i’ll see you soon, love you.” you smiled when he kissed the mic. “i love you more, i’ll talk to you later.” you hung up, feeling slightly better after hearing his voice. it didn’t take you long to pack your beach tote, lia picking you up soon after.
you spent the rest of the day with your friend, both of you taking pictures and reading your books. “wanna stay the night at mine? i could really go for some pizza right now.” lia pouted as she pulled into your driveway. “i wish. i have to go to breakfast with my family tomorrow.” she put the car in park, looking at you apologetically. “oh, that’s right! it’s okay, hang tomorrow afterwards?” you grabbed your bag from the backseat. “for sure. i’ll call you when i get home.” she nodded, in which you waved. “hey! send me the pictures we took!” you shouted as she rode off.
“hey, guys,” you greeted your parents as you closed the front door behind you. they were curled up on the couch watching a movie. “hey!” your mom whispered, not wanting to wake your father who was resting his head on her lap. they always looked so cute together. “i’m gonna go shower. goodnight.” you walked past them, eagerly waiting to check your phone to see if you had any messages from rafe.
[2:32 PM] loml <3: still the same bs. i’ll try to call you again tonight
you gasped at the timestamp. that was hours ago. it was about ten o’clock now, and you were definitely feeling the effects of your activities today.
[10:02 PM] y/n: superrr sleepy rn, i’ll still answer if you call bb
you waited until the message delivered and quickly got in the shower. after washing your hair and rinsing yourself off, you changed into an oversized t-shirt and called it a night. you don’t know how long you’d been asleep for, but your eyes were fluttering open as you felt your bed dip beside you.
your heart dropped when you saw a dark figure looming over you, a loud gasp escaping your lips. before you could scream, a large hand covered your mouth. your eyes widening as you starting hitting the person against their chest. “baby, it’s me! it’s me!” you stopped as soon as you heard his voice, rafe’s hand slowly moving away from your face. “what the hell!” you whispered, immediately throwing your arms around him. “how are you here right now?” you reached over, turning on the small lamp on your nightstand.
the soft light barely did anything to illuminate the space, but your heart skipped a beat once you could make out his features. you stared at each other for a few moments before he took your lips into a searing kiss. “fuck, i missed you so much.” he leaned all his body weight on top of you, the feeling nearly bringing you to tears. “two months, rafe. never again.” you scolded him, letting him settle between your thighs. “my dad pulled some strings and we were able to come back today. just landed like an hour ago.” he could barely talk as he kissed you inbetween his words.
the reality of the situation made you stop, your body freezing underneath him. “what?” he looked at you confused. “my parents are here! how did you even get in?” you scrambled to get up, locking your door before you could get caught. when you turned around, rafe was laying flat on your mattress, a sliver of skin poking out from under his t-shirt. “my key. they were knocked out cold on the couch, so i just snuck up here.” he propped himself up on his elbows, his eyes falling to your bare thighs. “you wearing anything underneath that?” you smiled before shaking your head and lifting up the hem of your shirt teasingly. “no.” rafe’s gaze darkened as he watched you straddle him.
“why?” his hands ran up your thighs, squeezing the flesh before they settled on your hips. you shrugged. “just wanted to be ready for you.” rafe could already feel his cock hardening with your words alone. “yeah?” he dragged your hips against his, your naked cunt rubbing against his shorts. “fuck,” you whimpered, letting your head fall to the side as you balanced yourself on your palms. “i missed hearing that. missed seeing you like this.” he took the shirt off of you, marveling at the sight of your bare figure on top of him.
“i want you to get yourself off on me,” rafe splayed a hand over your stomach, “wanna watch you move.” you grabbed his hand, placing his middle and ring fingers in your mouth, your hips grinding against him. “you’re so fucking perfect, ‘don’t know how i made it two months without you.” you moaned, sucking his digits while you started a steady rhythm. you knew you were overly sensitive because of how long it’d been without him here, but you couldn’t help the aftershocks that came with your clit rubbing against his hard on.
rafe groaned, knowing he wouldn’t last too long like this. while he spewed out the most filthy things you’ve ever heard, you sped up, desperate to reach the high you were so close to. rafe screwed his eyes shut, stopping you just before he could cum in his shorts. the sound of both of you trying to catch your breaths filtered throughout your room as you blinked down at him. “i was so close,” you pouted, clenching around nothing. “ride my face.” your eyes widened. “what?” rafe grabbed you by your waist, a yelp leaving your lips as he held you above his mouth.
you shuddered when you felt his breath fanning against the inside of your thighs. “are you su- fuck!” you cried when you felt his tongue where you ached for him the most. “oh my god, rafe,” he was quick to interwine his fingers with yours, holding you tightly so you couldn’t move away. this was new for both of you, but rafe was quickly realizing that watching you with your jaw slacked and greedily chasing his tongue with your hips was becoming his new favorite view.
he moaned against your soaked cunt, the slight vibration making your eyes roll back. “r-rafe!” your hips stuttered as you felt the sweet release of pure euphoria wash over you. rafe held you tighter against him, his tongue attacking your clit as you shook uncontrollably. two months of phone sex could never compare to the real thing, your breaths becoming labored as rafe laid you down. “i’m gonna fuck you senseless.” rafe kissed you, your wetness still on his lips as he did so. just as you pulled away, a knock sounded from your bedroom door.
“y/n, is everything okay honey?” your eyes widened as rafe took the opportunity to roll one of your nipples between his fingers, your face burying in his chest to muffle the moan that left your mouth. “i-i’m okay! just.. cramps!” rafe trailed sloppy kisses across your neck, smiling against your skin as you struggled to formulate a single sentence. “aw i hope you feel better, call me if you need anything, love.” you waited until her footsteps receeded down the hallway before you smacked rafe playfully. “you’re terrible!” you laughed.
he took off his shirt, his muscles on full display as he discarded his shorts. fuck, he was glorious. “yeah, but you love me.” you smiled as he slotted himself between your legs, shivering once you felt his cock sit between your folds. “i do love you.” rafe ran his fingers through your hair, caging you between his arms as he slid into you, a moan sounding from both your mouths. you stretched around him so deliciously, rafe’s head resting in the crook of your neck.
“is that my favorite body wash?” he looked up, pecking your jaw when you nodded. “something told me to use it tonight.” your eyes fluttered shut when rafe pulled out, pushing back into you as he hooked your thigh around his waist. “this is all i could think about over there,” he sighed, “i just wanted to feel this perfect pussy squeezing around me.” you mewled at his words, your nails digging into his shoulders. “did you think about me, baby?”
you nodded, your back arching into his chest. “fuck, yes. i missed having you on top of me, ‘missed taking your cock.” he groaned, lightly wrapping a hand around your neck as his pace sped up. rafe adjusted you so your head was resting on top of his arm as he kissed you roughly. his thrusts were unforgiving, soon the sound of skin slapping against skin echoed in your room. with the way the head of his cock was stroking that soft spot inside you, you couldn’t bring yourself to care if you were being too loud. you started meeting his thrusts, your clit meeting his pubic bone.
“you’re doing so fucking good for me.” he panted, his breath fanning your cheeks. you wrapped your arms around his neck, crying out into his skin. “don’t stop!” he covered your mouth, shushing you as he fucked into you relentlessly. “i got you, baby. ‘gonna fill up this pretty cunt with my cum.” you whimpered, tears welling in your eyes as you felt your second orgasm nearing. with a couple more thrusts, you found yourself falling over the edge, your climax hitting you in waves of pure ecstasy. “oh, fuck,” rafe’s jaw was clenched as he suppressed the groan that threatened to rip itself from his throat.
you reveled in the feeling of his seed spilling into you, his eyebrows knitting in pleasure as he continued to move sloppily. “fuck, i don’t think i ever came that hard before.” he removed his hand, allowing you to take a full breath. you sighed, curling into your boyfriend as he plopped down beside you. “i missed this the most.” he pressed a kiss to your temple, his fingers tracing shapes into your side. you smiled softly, draping an arm across his torso. “i could fall asleep like this..” rafe’s voice was hoarse, both of you yawning at the same time.
“me too,” you started, “i’m gonna go grab some water real quick, i’ll be right back.” he pulled you down for another kiss before letting you get up. you poked your head outside your door, slipping on a shirt and a pair of underwear before slipping out. you tiptoed down the stairs, walking into the kitchen where your mother sat with her laptop. “oh-” you smiled awkwardly, getting two water bottles out of the fridge. your mom looked up at you from her spot at the kitchen island.
“i take it that rafe is back from vacation? you’re lucky i left the volume up on the tv.”
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neochan · 4 months
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DESIRE (M) — PART ONE
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he wants you. you want jeno. desire is a jealous little thing, isn't it y/n?
PAIRING. slytherin!haechan x hufflepuff!reader ft. gryffindor!jeno
WC. 12.1k
GENRE. harry potter au!, smut
WARNINGS. cursing, drinking, depictions of breaking a bone, solo male smut, haechan is sort of a perv in one (1) scene, oral male receiving, just really sloppy head <3, haechan does fuck someone in detail and he's mean abt it, but it's not y/n (oops spoiler of sorts), blonde!haechan, he's not a good person, so don't expect him to be. he's a big ole meanie with a longtime crush on reader.
A.N. this has been in the drafts for like three years. i want it out, so i'm splitting it into two parts :)
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The Mirror of Erised - The mirror shows the most desperate desire of a person's heart, a vision that has been known to drive men mad.
He loves you.
But he fucking hates it.
First year he was holding hands with you, sitting next to your huddled body on the train, and later sharing a meal in the great hall. Second year he saw you clinging onto him as he flew you over the quidditch field. Third year he watched the both of you sneak out to explore the restricted section in the library and run around the castle late at night. Fourth year he saw you in a beautiful dress as he took you to the yule ball. Fifth year he was kissing you on the astronomy tower. Sixth year you went down on him, and all he could do was watch and pretend that his hand was your mouth.
Now it’s seventh year.
Though the actions changed, it was always you he saw in the mirror, and he fucking hated it. Ever since first year, when all he knew was that you were cute and funny, there you were, taunting and teasing him in that godforsaken mirror.
And yet, he always comes back to sit and watch. 
Just like tonight.
The train only arrived an hour ago, but instead of filing into the great hall to see which house the first years would be sorted into, he’s sitting on the floor in the room of requirement, back against a dusty chest of drawers, and eyes narrowed down to slits as he watches the scene unfold in the mirror before him.
It always starts with you appearing out of thin air. You’re wearing your house colors – a small grey skirt, barely covering the swell of your ass and a yellow button up. You’re rid of the required tie, but only for a second, only until Haechan shows up to stand behind you in the mirror with it stretched between his fists.
He shifts in his place on the ground. It wasn’t real, but lord have mercy, he wished it were.
In the mirror he watches himself loop the tie around your wrists, which were set behind your back. You were so beautiful, smiling up at him with those luminous eyes, and your lips parted in a sinful smile.
Under his robes, his hand inches across the flat of his stomach, towards the growing bulge in his pants. It was becoming hotter in the room, almost stifling, but if someone were to come in, he couldn’t be caught half naked. He’d have to get by fully clothed. 
God, he despised the way you made him feel; so desperate for any sort of friction, anything to help relieve himself of the aching lust he felt in the pit of his stomach.
When his reflection is done tying your wrists together, a desk appears. He recognizes it as the one from potions class. His mouth drops open in an O as he watches himself back you up, so you were sandwiched between the desk and his broad chest.
His hand disappears under your skirt, and he could only imagine what his reflection was doing. Could only imagine how good you probably felt clenching around his fingers, gasping at his touch. Feeling pleasure because of him.
Your body arches against his, head dropping down to rest on his shoulder. He watches his lips move against your ear, but he couldn’t hear what he was saying.
Biggest fucking curse of the century.
Stupid mirror should come with speakers, he thinks.
It was becoming increasingly more difficult to keep his composure, skin slick with sweat, and hands buzzing with the temptation to touch himself.
Fuck you, y/l/n
He watches as his mirror persona spins you around and pushes you flat against the desk, yanking your skirt up around your waist to bare your glistening pussy.
It’s never been this explicit, and he can’t help himself. Tentative fingers wrap around his cock. He throws his head back and hisses between his teeth; it felt too fucking good. His eyes snap open. There was no way he was going to miss the rest of the show, not when it was just getting good.
In the mirror, his cock replaces his fingers. He watches himself inch his way into you slowly. Watches your mouth loll open, eyes glazed over. You were already fucked out and he had barely started.
Haechans hands stroke himself under his robes as he watches the scene in front of him. He was having a hard time keeping his hips still, bucking up into his fist. He softly groans to himself when he sees his reflection grab your tied hands and pull back, fucking himself into you faster.
It was so unfair, so embarrassing, that he had to resort to getting off in front of a mirror displaying his deepest fantasy. It was so unfair that it was always you.
So Haechan sits there, watching the mirrored version of himself completely ruin you, while trying to pretend that his hand is your dripping cunt. He sits there thinking of all the things he would do to you if you would give him the time of day.
Fuck you y/n.
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The first years had already been sorted by the time he arrived. In fact, dinner was almost over.
He makes his way to the Slytherin table where his friends were loudly joking. Renjun was the first to notice when he sat down and slides him a half-eaten piece of pie.
“Where were you?”
Through a mouthful of blueberry pie, Haechan acknowledges him, “I had to take care of some things.”
He shuts the discussion down quick. No need for them to know he shoved in a dusty room with his cock in his fist, and his mind full of you.
Speaking of which...
His eyes scan the great hall till he sees you sitting with your roommates, Jihyo and Mina. He almost chokes on the next bite when he realizes you were wearing the same outfit you had on in the mirror.
“Fucking hell man, don’t die,” Chenle slides him a glass of water, “We thought we were gonna have to sneak you some food back to the dorms.”
He gulps down the water and taps the glass with his ring clad pointer finger, automatically refilling it. The silver metal makes a tink sound against the glass. “Well, like I said, I had some things to take care of.”
Why the fuck did his friends have to be so damn nosy. A guy couldn't disappear for an hour?
“And was Y/N one of those things?” Chenle snorts.
The rest of the table bursts into laughter, louder than the entire great hall combined, and it makes you peek your head in their direction. Haechan drops his gaze away from you, grabs a stray spoon and chucks it at Chenle, hitting him square in the chest, “Shut up.”
“Dude, we all know you've been sweet on her since, what, first year?” Renjun snickers.
Chenle wipes the gunk that splattered off the spoon from his robes, ‘Yeah, we’re not blind man. I mean, she might be, but not us.”
"Sweet on her? What the fuck is this Renjun, the nineteen-fifties?" Haechan doesn't do anything but scowl. He hates how his friends knew. Hell, pretty much all Slytherins that knew him, knew.
His eyes flick up and catch yours. A soft smile forms on your lips, and he returns it. He hand twitched up for a wave, but Jeno, the infamous Gryffindor Seeker, sits beside you and steals your attention away.
“Ah look, now you’re too late.”
“Could’ve had a chance dude.”
Haechan turns to his friends and gives them a death stare, “Next word out of you guys and I’m gonna stuff the rest of this pie down your fucking throats.”
With a roll of their eyes, they turn their heads and start to talk amongst themselves about the new school year. Haechan can’t immerse himself in such conversation. His attention is pointed solely on you and the kiss ass that was Lee Jeno.
One of his arms sat slung around your shoulders, his face dangerously close to yours, but for some reason, you weren’t pushing him away, you were laughing.
Why weren’t you pushing him away?
Something in Haechan snaps when he watches Jeno lean his forehead against yours, both of you sharing wide smiles. It’s as if his heart was set on fire, the heat threading itself through his body and taking home in his hands. Oh, how he wanted to go punch that smile right off of Jeno’s lips. Smash his fist in his face and leave a nice mark, bloody broken gums bleeding.
Bet he wouldn’t smile at you then.
Haechan knows it’s insane. He does, but he quite honestly doesn’t give a single broom-flying fuck.
With determination, Haechan stood, pushing his chair back, and ignoring the calls from his friends. Everybody he walks past is enjoying their first-day-back meals, but Haechan has something else on his mind.
He walks by your table, hearing the pretty lilt of your voice chatting away with your friends as Jeno hangs off your side. Haechan’s tongue pokes his cheek in jealousy, but he walks right past without a word, no matter how much his brain is screaming at him to just hit Jeno.
Making it to the doors that seal off the great hall from the main corridor, he draws his wand out from his robes and flicks his wrist.
“Aguamenti”
A jet of clear water shoots out from the tip of his wand and smacks the side of Jenos head, effectively drenching him from head to toe.
Haechan stays for a split second, just to watch you and your friends erupt in a fit of giggles while Jeno picks at his wet robes.
He smiles triumphantly before slipping out into the hallway and sprinting to the Slytherin dormitory.
Haechan 1, Jeno 0
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The first night back at Hogwarts; The first night back home.
You and your dormmates lounge in the common room and stare into the fire whilst making small talk. It had been a while since seeing them, but you had kept in touch out in the muggle world.
Jihyo hung her head over the arm of the couch, the rest of her body sprawled out and cozily covered with a blanket, attempting to toss popcorn in the air and catch it in her mouth. Her success rate, however, left the floor scattered with smashed pieces and kernels.
Mina sat on the end of the couch with Jihyo's feet in her lap, occasionally contributing to the conversation but mostly engrossed in her textbooks. It wasn't even the first day of actual classes, yet here she was, staying ahead. If you didn't know her kind nature, you'd think she belonged in Ravenclaw.
You were slung in the other chair opposite of them, fiddling with your wand. The end was slightly cracked from where you had accidentally stepped on it one day and it was worrying you. The last thing you needed right now was another trip to Olivanders.
“I’m just saying Y/N, I think Jeno really does like you!” Jihyo insisted, throwing another piece of popcorn in the air only to get hit in the face with it seconds later.
Mina snorts without looking up and Jihyo makes a face at her that she doesn’t see but leaves you giggling. You twist your wand around your fingers, something you learned back in second year, “Well if he does, he hasn’t said anything.”
Mina hums in agreement but Jihyo thinks differently, “He wouldn’t have offered to take you broom flying after hours if he didn’t like you.”
Shrugging your shoulders you turn to the fire, the burning warmth spreading over your chest. “Maybe he just wants some pussy.”
“Well, you better take the chance before I do. He can show me his broomstick anytime.” She winks in your direction sending you into a giggle fit. Mina rolls her eyes but continues reading her textbook. The both of you were used to Jihyos sexual jokes, but they never failed to make you laugh and Mina cringe.
A brief silence passed before you spoke, “Okay, but you have to agree, whoever splashed him at dinner tonight has it coming.”
“What do you mean whoever it was?” Mina piped up, giving you an inquisitive look.
“I didn’t see who it was, did y’all?” you asked, mildly confused. The water had seemingly come out of nowhere, and everyone around Jeno had denied responsibility. With everyone denying it, you suspected it might have been one of the lingering spirits.
“Are you kidding me, Y/N? He couldn’t have been any more obvious,” Jihyo said incredulously, sitting up to look straight at you, abandoning her bag of popcorn.
Were you supposed to have known who the culprit was? You were too busy watching Jeno splutter and gasp to have paid much attention to your surroundings. One thing she said caught your attention, “He?”
“Haechan? Lee Donghyuck?” Mina says slowly.
Jihyo chimed in, “He was walking toward our table all angry, and then when he made it to the doors, he turned around and used the Aguamenti spell.” Your mouth dropped open with every word she said, “Don’t tell me you didn’t notice?!”
“I didn’t!” you argue defensively.
“Oh, and before that, he was staring at you.” Mina added, closing her textbook and standing up, dumping Jihyo's feet on the ground.
“I knew he was staring.” You say, chewing on your bottom lip, “Are you guys for sure he was the one?”
“I’m telling you,” Jihyo starts, “We both saw him.”
Emotions bubble in your chest. You were pissed off for sure. Who did Haechan think he was getting in your business like that, especially given the history, or lack thereof.
Ever since you met the Slytherin boy, he had despised you. There was something about you that completely irritated him, and no matter how hard you tried, he just wouldn’t be your friend. He wouldn’t even talk to you, only stare and mess with your relationships. Every time you were getting close with a boy, he would get in the way, first with Mark and now Jeno? This was becoming an issue, and one that you needed to correct soon.
“I’m heading to bed.” Mina says, waving goodbye and heading off to her room.
You and Jihyo are left to stare at each other. She narrows her eyes down to slits, “Don’t get any ideas.”
“I’m not,” you spun the wand faster around your fingers, twisting and spinning it until it dropped into your palm, “I’m just going to remind him who the hell I am.”
“That’s not very Hufflepuff of you.” she giggles, reaching for more popcorn and shoving it in her mouth.
Your grip your wand tightly, “Hufflepuff or not, Lee Donghyuck needs to learn who he’s fucking with.”
As you pondered your next move, Jihyo leaned back and said, "You know, a well-placed hex might jog his memory."
"No. Not a hex. He get's one warning. His only warning."
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Haechan knew you were after him.
The past couple days consisted of him dodging your every attempt at waving him down. After classes dismissed, he was up and out the door in the blink of an eye, he never showed his face at the great hall, and when you caught sight of him during his quidditch practice, he disappeared while everyone else headed to the locker rooms.
Three days after the water incident, you catch him.
The professor asked him to stay back after class, supposedly to discuss his recent test scores. So, when the bell rang, you lingered outside the classroom door. A couple of minutes later, Haechan emerged, his blonde hair paired with a scowl etched onto his face. He made a beeline in the opposite direction, but you had other plans.
“Lee Donghyuck!” you shout, attracting stares from the other students milling about the corridor. You scurry over to him and tug his arm, his eyes shooting down to where you made contact “We need to talk.”
He glanced around, ensuring no one was watching, and cleared his throat. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
The threats you had rehearsed - the biting warnings you promised Jihyo you'd give him...they all catch in the back of your throat when you look up and make eye contact. It was almost condescending the way he looked down at you, without even saying anything, he made you feel small.
"I—um, I want you to leave me and Jeno alone," you managed to say, attempting confidence but knowing there was little force behind the words.
He knew it too.
His eyebrows shoot up, “I’m sorry darling, I’m not quite sure what you mean.”
Oh, how good he was at feigning innocence.
Too bad you knew he was a big fat fucking liar, “The whole Aguamenti spell you did the other night in the great hall? Yeah, I know it was you.”
His jaw clenches and he reaches for his wand to twirl around his finger – something he did when he was nervous. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Bullshit Haechan. Me and my friends saw you do it.”
As more people stared at the confrontation in the middle of the hallway, you considered finding a more private place, but you knew he wouldn't follow.
“What do you want me to say? I’m telling you I didn’t do it.” his voice is a low growl, his demeanor darkening and body slightly leaning towards your own. You wouldn’t be surprised if the next words out of his mouth were, ‘now get lost you little freak’.
Deciding to stand your ground, you stared up at him defiantly. However, instead of backing down, he laughed straight in your face, deflating any hope of setting him straight.
“Good one, Hufflepuff.” With a roll of his eyes, he palms his wand in thought. How could a girl like you go for a guy like Jeno? Didn’t you know he was an asshole?
Speak of the devil, he thinks.
A heavy arm wrapped around your shoulders, accompanied by a sweet and cheery voice. "Y/N! Just the girl I needed to see." Jeno's crescent eyes and beaming smile were inches from yours.
Haechan rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest. He needs to leave; He should leave, but his feet don’t move when he tries. It felt like he was under a spell.
Yeah, if jealousy was a fucking spell, the thought bitterly.
“I hope you don’t mind me talking to your girl.” Jeno acknowledges Haechan and playfully punches him in the shoulder. The older boy just sneers.
“Oh, I’m not his girl” you declared adamantly.
A derisive scoff rumbles in the depths of Haechan's throat, and a fit of coughing seizes him, forcing him to double over.
“Careful there buddy.” Jeno smirks, harshly slapping Haechan’s back as way to help him catch his breath.  
When the older boy straightens up, a look of pure hatred crosses his eyes and you giggle, “I’m fine, buddy.”
Jeno looks from left to right confused at Haechan’s hostility, but shakes it off and turns to you instead, “I wanted to invite you to the Quidditch game tomorrow night.” A ‘no’ forms on your lips but Jeno is quick to shut it down, “Look… I’ll play better if you’re there. You can be my good luck charm!”
A fake gag sounds from the back of Haechans throat and you stare daggers into him until he throws two hands up and takes a step back.
You turned to Jeno with the intention of declining, citing the need for studying, but his trademark smile was plastered on his lips. Wasn't the point of this conversation with Haechan to be something with Jeno someday?
“I’ll go.” You smile, and Jeno's face lights up like a kid on Christmas.
One second, you were on the ground, and the next, you were in Jeno's strong arms, spinning around. "Yes! You won't regret this, Y/N! You can even wear my jersey if you want!"
He slows down and sets you back on your feet, your head slightly spinning, “Jeno… you do realize you’ll need your jersey on the field.”
“Oh right.” He scratches the back of his neck sheepishly. “Didn’t think of that.”
Haechan makes an unamused snort, and you notice his hands are balled into fists at his side.
How could Jeno do that right in front of his face?
“I guess it’s the thought that counts.” Haechan spits, and turns on his heel, robes flying behind him as he hurriedly walks away.
“Wait! We still have to talk!” you shout after him, but he doesn’t acknowledge it, just keeps walking until he rounds a corner and disappears.
Why did he have something against Jeno? He hated you anyways. Was his job to make you miserable your entire Hogwarts life? Why was he always in your business?
Jeno startles you out of your thoughts, “Come on, I’ll walk you to class.”
A smile formed on your lips, and you murmured an 'okay' as Jeno looped your arm in his. Unfortunately, Haechan was long gone, along with any hope of setting him straight.
Hopefully he got the message, you think.
It’s the last thought of him before Jeno is tugging on your arm and walking you to class, the smell of cinnamon on his robes and his jovial tone taking home in your head and root in your heart.  
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He can’t stomach the sight of her face, but that doesn’t stop him from fucking her.
Who was she? He didn’t know, and he didn’t care. She was wet enough and that was all that mattered. Thrusting into her sopping cunt was what she was here for, nothing more, nothing less.
His mind drifts while he pounds into her, the image of Jeno dragging you away, his arm slung over your shoulders driving Haechan to fuck harder. The girl hollers in pain but doesn’t tell him to stop, just grits her face and bears it, and he doesn’t check to see if she’s okay.
She said she wanted him to fuck her, so that’s what he was doing.
“Hy-hyuck.” She whimpers, fingers digging into his dark green sheets.
A harsh smack lands on her ass, “What, can’t take it Y/ -”
He stops himself before finishing your name. How stupid could he be. This wasn’t you; this could never be you.
Whoever the girl was, she doesn’t notice, too rung up on his cock pushing into her over and over again to understand that he didn’t give a single fuck about her.
Poor girl.
Her legs start to shake, an overwhelming orgasm washing over her right before Haechan pulls out and rolls off the bed, hastily putting on his pants. She’s left to catch her breath on his bed, peering at him from between parted fingers, “You didn’t finish.”
“Don’t need to.” He throws his sweater over his head and starts to fix his tie, “Here.” He picks her yellow robes off the floor and tosses them onto the bed next to her.
“Let me suck you off or something.”
His response is instantaneoous, “I’m good.”
Her voice is soft when she speaks up again, “It’s because of that girl isn’t it… the one in my house, Y/N?”
Was it obvious to everyone else but you? This random fucking girl knew, but you couldn’t catch on? Fucking ridiculous.
His eyes narrow down to slits, “I got to get to class. You better be gone when I get back.”
The door slams behind him, the echo being the only indication he was there in the first place.
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Robes askew and papers flying out of your hands, you rush into potions class at the last possible second.
Jeno is already seated at your shared table, something that’s become normal these last few weeks. Out of the corner of your eye, you take note of Hyuck slumped over a piece of paper, furiously scribbling—probably homework.
Thankfully, the professor nods you off without issuing you a detention slip.
Slamming your books on the flat black table, you hop onto your stool.
“Thought you weren’t gonna show y/l/n” Jeno’s smile stretches from ear to ear, his fingers twirling a quill between them.
“I may not be a Ravenclaw, but I’d never miss a class.”
“Couldn’t bear to miss me?” His flirtatious comments always make your heart skip a beat. Your pulse becomes increasingly erratic, face flushed. A snort sounds from behind you, and when you swivel around, you see Haechan’s face adorned with a sneer. He doesn’t deserve a response from you, no matter how much you want to flip him off.
You turn back around, “I guess I couldn’t…” The blush on Jeno’s face is unmistakable and it warms your heart.
From the front of the room, the professor claps his hands, “Alright class, today we will be doing something I’m sure you’ve done before.”
“Please don’t say truth potion.” You mutter under your breath.
“Not quite, Ms. y/l/n. Today we’ll be brewing amortentia potions! All your ingredients should be in the back of the classroom, gather them and begin brewing! The instructions are on page 287 of your textbook! The first group to accurately brew their potion gets five points on the chapter quiz this week.”
The professor calling you out would be enough to send you into an embarrassed state of tucking your chin against your chest and keeping your head down for the rest of the class, but the mention of extra points on the quiz has you leaping up off the stool and waltzing to the back of the classroom.
Jeno doesn’t even have time to say anything. You’ve never done this potion before, but you know the ingredients by heart, just waiting for the day you get to brew it.
You make it to the ingredients table first, followed by Haechan, who’s furiously flipping through his textbook, trying to find the ingredient list. When he notices your empty hands, he narrows his eyes, “Don’t you need to know what to put in the potion?”
Grabbing various vials and jars of dried leaves, you snort, “Don’t need to. Jealous I know it by heart?”
His eyes slide to yours while he follows your lead and picks up a jar of blue rose petals, “Me? Jealous? Yeah right. That’ll be you when me and Chenle win the extra points.”
“Don’t count on it Hyuck.”
The nickname has him tensing, knuckles going white when he accidentally grips a vial of milky substance too hard. He puts it under his arm and reaches for another vial. Coincidentally, you were reaching for the same one, both of your hands brushing against each other's. Neither of you is hasty in withdrawing.
His Adam's apple bobs in his throat, nervousness flitting across his brow. Before you can make note, he clamps down, and his expression goes stoic again.
Heat pools in your stomach. A sickeningly sweet feeling that leaves you confused when Haechan plucks the vial away and whips around, his robes fluttering out behind his body.
Other students begin crowding the table, so you grab a different vial, the interaction leaving you all too confused.
When you get back to the table, Jeno has already begun heating the cauldron.
The ingredients spill from your hands.
“Have you ever done this before?” Jeno asks, “You didn’t even need the textbook.”
Your voice comes out mumbled, “No. I just know it by heart.”
His own textbook is splayed out in front of him, one finger rubbing down the page to read the ingredients list. Why don’t his hands make you feel like that? Sure, it makes you feel all cozy inside, but it isn’t… hot like that. There;s no heat when Jeno walks hand-in-hand with you in the hallway. Why?
“… petals.”
His voice peeks through your thoughts that were flitting around your skull at a million miles an hour.
“Huh?”
“Why did you grab blue rose petals? It doesn’t say we need them in the book.” He teeters on the edge of his seat as if he wanted to take them back to the ingredients table at the back of the room.
A smirk plays on the edge of your lips, “Haechan was copying what I was grabbing, so to trip him up, I grabbed those. Hopefully, he doesn’t pay close attention to the textbook like you…”
Jeno laughs, “Never would have struck you as the type Y/N.”
“What, too much of a Slytherin thing?” You bite back.
“No…No, I like it. It makes you… I don’t know… hot?”
Your eyes go wide, a laugh sticking in your throat. You cough it up and turn to the spread of ingredients in front of you, “Let's, uh… let’s start so we can get those extra credit points.”
Jeno turns around and so do you.
What you don’t notice is Haechan, who had become immensely interested in your conversation after hearing the word Slytherin leave your lips. The jealousy flickering through his nerves is hotter than the boiling substance in front of him. Oh, how he wishes this was Defense Against the Dark Arts.
He’d love to put Jeno flat on his ass.
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You and Jeno effortlessly master the brewing of amortentia in just twelve minutes, a symphony of perfectly blended scents swirling in your cauldron.
Chenle and Haechan shoot you annoyed glances as their potion turns into a goopy, blue disaster, nowhere close to the enchanting pink hue of yours.
The professor strides over, congratulating the two of you with a smile. He hands each of you golden slips of paper, designating you as the undisputed masters of amortentia potion-making.
Haechan stands with arms crossed, bitterness etched across his face as he joins the students gathered around your table. His jaw clenches when he witnesses Jeno pulling you into a snug side hug.
“Alright! As the first pair to get the potion right, you get the pleasure of telling us what you smell.
Fuck.
His jaw unclenches and instead is replaced by a shit-eating grin.
“W-What?”
Other students nervously chuckle, eager to see if Jeno, the star of Gryffindors quidditch team, would possibly smell their scent.
“I’ll go first y/n. Don’t sweat it.”
Carefully, Jeno leans over the cauldron and lets the steam waft up into his face. He takes a sniff. Another one. Another one. And finally a deep inhale.
“It’s smells like cherries… um, vanilla, I think… and, sweets? Like baked sweets?”
The professor applauds, “Good! Sounds like someone's after a Hufflepuff!”
All eyes turn to you. It's true, the Hufflepuff dormitory is adjacent to the kitchens, but why must everyone assume? Why must it be you?
The professor continues, “You next Y/N!”
Haechans doe eyes follow your figure closely, drinking in the way you lean over the cauldon, the top button on your blouse having come undone, breasts peaking through the top. He feels like a pervert, but he can’t help the stiffness rising in his slacks.
He should’ve had that girl suck him off.
You sniff one, twice, and a third time. Haechan watches as the blood drains from your face.
Why couldn’t it be cinnamon and firewood? Why not something to complement Jeno? It had to be that.
“I smell apples… and, and, um, caramel, and qu-quidditch gear.”
You don’t even have time to assess Jeno or Haechans faces. Jeno knew it was Haechan’s scent. Haechan knew it was his scent. Everyone knew. How could they not? Slytherins best asshole was known for smelling like caramel apples.
Fuck.
Your eyes are downcast, contemplating whether or not to do that chin tuck.
“Alright! Who’s next?”
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“It’s not like it’s our house that’s playing.”
Slumped on the common room couch and stuffing your face with leftover popcorn (thanks Jihyo), your argument doesn’t come across as very convincing – to yourself, or Mina, who stands in front of you with her hands on her hips. “And anyways,” you raise a skeptical eyebrow, “Don’t you have to study or something. You’re not one for quidditch games.”
She reaches for you, snatching the snack bowl out of your hand and plopping it down on the coffee table. “I’m two weeks ahead in every single class. I can afford to skip a day of studying.”
For a moment, you shoot her a glare, sensing there's more to it. “Jihyo put you up to this, didn’t she?”
“Why do you say that.”
“Because I know her.”
“Okay, yes.” She sits down next to you, grabbing your hands. “But come on! Jeno invited you to watch the game and then go to the afterparty. You know how hard it is to get invited to those parties!” She drags out the last syllable, pretending to beg, “And Jihyo said she’d kill me if you bailed.”
You sigh. Jeno did invite you, and he had that killer smile on his lips when he did it. The reminder sends butterflies in your stomach fluttering about. The only reason you were planning to skip out was because you were nervous. And what happened in class yesterday. But that didn’t matter! Gryffindors seeker asking you to come watch him play, and then walking you to class? That made you more than friends, right? You didn’t know how to navigate that without being awkward… and you’d hate to disappoint him.
“Fine, I’ll go.”
Mina squeals next to you and pulls you into a hug. “You won’t regret this! But hurry up, I wanna see if I can spot Renjun before the game.” She smiles to herself, a light blush dusting her cheeks that she tries to conceal.
“Renjun… Isn’t that the boy you’re tutoring in potions?”
She hums in response, a dreamy expression so evident on her face you could almost make out hearts in her eyes. It's like a real-life cartoon.
“You have a crush on him!” you tease, giggling when she holds her arms out defensively and tries to deny it. “That’s why you’re going to the game today! Not because you don’t need to study, but because you wanna see Renjunnnnn.” You draw out his name like you used to do when you were first years.
“Don’t tell Jihyo.” She groans. “She’ll give me hell for it, and I want this to progress naturally on its own.”
“I won’t, I’m just shocked our Mina has a crush!”
You feel happy for your friend. Happy that she’s found somebody who could actually drag her away from being holed up on a Saturday afternoon – it's real progress.
“Enough about me! Go get ready!”
She throws a pillow at you when you leap off the couch, and it hits you square in the chest, both of you thrown into another fit of giggles.
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The stands were so jam packed with students, you thought there was absolutely no way you were going to grab a seat.
That was until you spotted Jihyos yellow Hufflepuff cap sticking out in a sea of Gryffindor gear. It was against house rules to wear anything outside of your house colors, so while you wanted to wear red to support Jeno, the best you could do was the red handheld flags they were passing out at the gate to the field.
A first year Slytherin tried to hand you a green flag, but you upturn your nose and brush him aside. You didn’t hate all Slytherins, but you’d be damned if Haechan caught sight of you supporting his team, especially since it was him pitted against Jeno. It saddened you that he was a seeker like the boy you were there to support; he didn’t deserve the position.
Mina grabs your hand and drags you into the thick of the crowd where elbows jostled you every few seconds and your cheeks were being whipped with waving flags. You duck your head down and try not to trip, a sigh of relief rushing past your lips when you make it to where Jihyo is sitting front row, batting away a couple who were trying to sit in the seats she was keeping for the two of you.
“See!” She yells, gesturing wildly to the two of you walking up, “My friends are here, and these seats are now occupied!” She grabs your wrists and tugs you to sit down.
The couple rolls their eyes and move on to find another seat.
“Bitches.” Jihyo curses under her breath.
“Thanks for saving the seat.” You breathlessly laugh, adjusting your jacket so that you were bundled up. Hogwart winters weren’t for the faint of heart.
Jihyo smirks, “Had to fight off about half the Gryffindor population for this good of a view, but it was worth it.”
On the other side of Jihyo, Mina laughed and clapped her hands at the commotion on the field, right before every other student erupted in cheers, hoots, and hollers.
From your midfield position, you saw the Slytherin team filtering out on the green, brooms in hand.
“WELCOME ALL FACULTY AND STUDENTS TO THE FIRST HOME GAME OF THE SEASON!! PLEASE WELCOME OUR SLYTHERIN TEAM!” The announcer's voice boomed, rattling through the entire stadium.
As much as you resisted cheering, Mina was there to support Renjun, so you gave a few half-hearted claps on her behalf, earning dirty looks from the surrounding Gryffindors. You were in the wrong section if you wanted to support the snakes.
You weren’t looking for him, but Haechan’s blonde hair immediately grabs your attention. He’s smiling, all sharp and smug, and you can make out green face paint dotting the side of his neck. It irked you that he was soaking in the cheering – you bet he got off to on the attention. What? With him being the infamous Slytherin seeker? It went straight to his head, and you knew it.
The team hopped on their brooms and flew around the students, tossing Slytherin gear into the stands as they weaved in and out of the sections. When Haechan passed, he blew you a kiss and winked, infuriating you to the point your face flushed hot.
“Ignore him.” Jihyo rolls her eyes and gives your hand a squeeze, “He’s trying to get you mad. Jeno will put him in his place.”
The thought of Jeno putting him in his place warms your heart. Oh, how good that’ll feel.
Once the Slytherins stopped showing off, the crowd went relatively quiet, waiting for the real star of the show to come out. A thrumming chant started somewhere opposite your section, and soon enough, the entire student body was collectively roaring for Gryffindor.
“WE WANT BETTER, WE WANT MORE, SHOW US GRYFFINDOR!!”
A rumble goes through the crowd right before cold air whips your face and a sea of red jerseys flies over your head. It makes you laugh giddily, and your eyes desperately search for number seven – Jeno.
It takes a second, but soon enough your eyes are locked on his lean figure which presses forward on the thin broom stick. He looked good.
Jihyo goes fucking wild beside you, “There’s your man!” she screeches, and you let out a belly laugh. You both watch as he makes his rounds around the towers filled with cheering students – each and every one until he gets to yours.
“You look beautiful” he shouts, and a dozen girls around you squeal in adoration. He was talking to you though, and you knew it. His eyes sparkle when he gives you a wink. “Wish me luck.” he mouths.
“Omg how cute are you two!?” Jihyo swoons.
You pressed a kiss to your palm and then blew it to him – a signal of your affection. With a wide eye-smile, he grabbed it out of the air and pressed it to his lips.
It was then and there that you decided you were going to kiss him after the match. All too quickly, he flew away, and you watched as he went.
Not two seconds later, a new Gryffindor player was in front of you, balancing on the tail end of his stick. Johnny, you remembered his name.
His jersey was tucked between his teeth, his abs on full display, which sent the hoards of girls around you into a screaming fit. You caught a quick glimpse before he spat the hem out of his mouth.
“Y/N, you want us to win?” He asks, his voice a deep timbre.
You were shocked that he was talking to you – let alone that he knew your name.
Gingerly, you nod your head.
“I bet. You coming to the party after?”
This interaction was so bizarre, and all Jihyo and Mina did to help was stare at the six-foot, built, fine specimen lingering only three feet in front of you.
“Jeno invited me.” For some reason, a blush settles on your face, and you fight the urge to cover it.
“Bet you’re gonna have a fun time with him after.” A dazzling smirk plastered itself on Johnny’s face. “You should ask him if he’ll let you ride his broomstick. I heard he’s a good teacher. It should be fun.” He flew around so quickly it left you blinking in his wake. Over his shoulder, you heard him call out, “See you after, prize girl.”
The entire twenty-second conversation left you reeling, and you tucked a mental note away to ask Jeno about it later.
From across the field, a certain Slytherin seeker was seething. Both his hands grabbed the broom so tightly his knuckles turned white. If he applied any more pressure, it would have broken.
The fuck was Johnny talking to you about? Did it have to do with Jeno? What did you see in him anyways? What did Jeno have that he didn’t? Did he have to prove himself? Yes, he thinks. That’s what he’ll do. He’ll win this match to prove to you that he’s better than Jeno. Maybe then you’ll truly see him – and give him a chance.
Game on.
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Two minutes were left in the last quarter, and it was neck and neck.
Green and red jerseys fly around each other.
The stadium echoed with the thunderous cheers as the Quaffle exchanged hands between the opposing teams. The bludgers were like rogue comets, threatening to disrupt the fluid dance of the players. Jeno and Haechan had their eyes fixed on the glittering snitch.
A collective gasp filled the arena as Haechan executed a daring spiral dive, narrowly avoiding a bludger. Simultaneously, Jeno executed a swift roll, evading a clever attempt by the opposing team to intercept him.
The golden snitch continued to flit teasingly ahead, leading the seekers on a merry chase.
You grip onto Jihyo and Mina as the game comes to a crescendo.
It happens so quick you almost miss it, but in three seconds everything changes.
Three.
Jeno becomes unbalanced, teetering sideways on his broom that keeps flying straight. His eyes are locked on yours when a wave of pure panic engulfs his sweaty features.
Haechan flies past him, one hand outstretched towards the golden snitch that loomed just mere inches from his fingertips.
Two.
He flips over the side of his broom, hands reaching out to try and catch himself. One by one his fingers tap the stick, not able to gain any purchase, and then he’s falling.
The other seeker presses ahead, dodging his teammates who don’t have time to get out of his way with how fast he’s flying.
One.
Jeno’s body slams into the grass field beneath the players, his broomstick landing next to his broken figure. He doesn’t get up, doesn’t scream in pain, doesn’t move.
Haechan's hand closed around the golden snitch, a victorious shout echoing from him and his teammates. He turned, searching for you in the crowd, but your gaze was fixed on Jeno.
Zero.
Shouts and cries erupt from the crowd, half in victory and half in shock. Someone screams Jeno’s name and you’re not sure if it’s your own shout, or if that person was just really close by.
With wide eyes, you watch as a bunch of medical staff rush towards him on the field and surround his body. Your body becomes ice cold and you can feel your heartbeat in your throat.
Please let him be okay; he has to be okay.
The Slytherin team flies around the field, visiting their supporters in the stands while everyone else’s eyes are on Jeno.
Jihyo grabs your shoulders and gasps when a white medical cot is lifted onto the shoulders of a few Gryffindor players.
“He’s okay. He’s okay.” Mina repeats, taking hold of your hand between hers and you almost sob in relief when you see him wiggling around in the cot, moans of pain falling from his lips too low for your ears to pick up.
Haechan watches from a distance, eyes wide in shock when he takes notice of Jeno’s condition and when he looks up, he sees your dormmates consoling you. He wanted to fly over to you and ask if you’re okay, but he knew you wouldn’t want to hear it, not when Jeno was hurt.
Once Jeno and the medical staff made it off the field, the stands began to clear out, but you feel like you can’t move.
“Come on.” Jihyo murmurs, pulling you up and wrapping an arm around you. It was silly that they had to take care of you like this when you weren’t even the one who was hurt.
When you made it to the bottom of the stand, you huddle together in a group.
Jihyo, with her arm still wrapped around you, gave you a side hug. “I’m sure he’s fine.” Mina nodded in agreement, but you started biting your nails – not that there was much to bite, lord knows they were almost stubs as it was.
Another person slides into your tight group, and you don’t notice until you hear his voice, “The scorekeepers say there was no evidence of foul play.”
When you looked up, you were surprised to see who you thought was Renjun. When he noticed your gaze, he gave a soft smile.
“That’s bullshit,” Jihyo declares, “We all know who did it, and he’s on your fucking team.”
Renjun just shrugs and slides an arm around Mina, and despite the timing and circumstance, you raise an eyebrow at her. She waves you off and slides her attention to Renjun, “Everyone knows it was Haechan.”
“Well, the scorekeepers say otherwise.”
You felt like screaming and crying and running away all at once, but you just stood there, biting your nails.
“I know I probably shouldn’t be asking right now,” Renjun's eyes flickered to you before looking away quickly, “But, I wanted to invite you guys to the after-party. I don’t need an answer, just show up if you want to, and I’ll have Chenle watching for you guys at the door. It starts in half an hour.” He started to pull away from the group but turned back at the last second. “By the way, Y/N, I’m sorry about Jeno. Just because I’m on the opposite team doesn’t mean I don’t feel bad.”
A hum falls from your lips and then he’s off.
“Well, if I need anything right now, it’s a fucking drink,” Jihyo joked, but one look at you, and her laughter died.
Mina is more concerned with you, “We won’t go if you need us.”
“No,” you blurted, dropping your hands from your face. “I –” A particularly loud shout jarred your attention away, and when you looked around to find the culprit, you saw the entire Slytherin team gathering to your right. Haechan stood in the center only long enough for you to make out it was him, then he was being hoisted onto his teammates' shoulders. His eyes met yours, and he smirked, lifting a hand to wave at you. It took everything in you to not storm over there and punch the absolute shit out of him. He wished he was your fucking priority, but that wasn’t the case.
“You sure?” Mina asks, snapping you out of your murderous thoughts.
“I gotta go check on Jeno.” You give a small smile, “Save me a drink?”
Jihyo and Mina both nodded, and before you walked off, you threw a middle finger at Haechan, who caught sight and clasped his chest like he was dying.
It pissed you off, but you had bigger priorities right now.
Haechan would have his turn.
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As the cheering fades, the screams take over.
Deep, guttural screams of someone in agonizing pain echo through the empty castle halls leading right to the medical wing. They come in bursts; long strings of curses, grunts, and broken yells, and it makes you inwardly cringe because you knew who they belonged too.
“Jeno…” you whisper, after hearing a particularly jarring shriek.
After rounding the corner, the tall double oak doors loom in front of you, inviting you to join Jeno in his agony, or at least be there to comfort him. Pushing them open, you reveal a large, brightly lit room sectioned off by blue plastic curtains and medical cots. On the left side of the room, you see a nurse tending to who must be Jeno, but you can’t see his face.
You can hear him though.
His voice is amplified ten-fold now that you were in the same room, and instinctively you raise your hands to plug your ears but shake it off. Tentatively you walk over.
“Goddamn Slytherin.” You hear him groan, legs twisting in discomfort when the nurse applies pressure to his arm. It’s evident he’s never been in this much pain before.
“Jeno?” You whisper, startling the nurse who accidentally puts too much pressure on his arm, causing him to jerk away from her, a yelp passing his thin lined lips.
Her hands pepper over his body in apology, not turning her head to look at you, “You shouldn’t be in here.”
“I know.” You whisper, and she doesn’t press any further on why you’re there or ask you to leave, so you stay.
Jeno doesn’t even seem to notice you, but that doesn’t matter. You shift around the bed slightly and catch sight of his face. Both his eyes are shut, one ringed in purple and his bottom lip split in two separate places. His nose seemed to get busted in the fall as it was surrounded by dark red, almost black, dried blood. A few droplets splattered on his shirt, accompanying the grass and dirt he had slammed into after falling thirty feet from the sky,
As bad as it may sound, you’re glad Jeno only broke his arm. A fall from that height could have meant paralysis or worse, death. He truly got lucky.
You stand quietly, watching as she shifts Jeno’s arm into a sling, securing it with a couple items you don’t know the name for and then popping a few muggle meds in his mouth. Lifting a glass of water to his lips, he groans, knocking back the pills.
It never sat right with you how the nurses used muggle methods of healing when there were more than a fair share of spells that could work much quicker. It was as if they wanted you to stew in your own misery.
Wasn’t the point of magic to make things easier?
Your thoughts are cut off by the nurse brushing past you, arms full of medical supplies. “Visiting hours are over in twenty minutes. Make it quick.” She warns, before walking away.
“Why are you here.” Jeno groans when she leaves the room, eyes still sticking shut.
“I –”A dull ache lands on your heart and the words catch in the back of your throat, a sudden cough clearing them away.
His lip curls into a sneer, “Spit it out y/l/n,”
The aggression radiating off of him makes you stumble back but you don’t let it scare you. You knew Jeno and he wasn’t scary… or so you thought.
“I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” You speak quietly, like any word above a murmur would startle him and hurt him worse.
“Obviously, I’m not fucking okay.” His voice is nasally, mocking you, “But you don’t care, do you? Bet you’re just here to make sure I don’t snitch on your little boyfriend.”
“He’s not my boyfriend.” Your eyes narrow down to slits. It angered you that Jeno thought you would give any time of day to the little prick who kept messing with you.
“You should tell him that.”
His eyes snap open and home in on you, glaring from his spot on the bed. Uncomfortable in his position, he squirms a bit, trying to right himself, but he grunts and falls back down, the pain too much for him.
‘You should tell him that.’
The words bounce around the inside of your skull. Did Haechan think you were together? Think he had some kind of weird ass claim over you?
"Jeno –”
“You know I can’t even play quidditch now that my arm is broken. My fucking arm Y/N.” Tears form in the corner of his eyes, whether from the pain or the prospect that he was out for the season, you weren’t sure, “He knocked me off my broom. That’s like… that’s like attempted murder!” he splutters, a crazed expression overtaking his face.
As much as you disliked the guy, there was no way he was capable of murder. No, this was due to his unrelenting jealousy, and someone needed to set him straight.
“Oh, come on, it’s not attempted –”
Jeno’s free hand is shoved in your face, one finger pointing at you patronizingly, “Yes, it is. You and I both know he’s a crazy son of a bitch, and he obviously has something for you so stay the fuck away from me.”
“Really, can we just talk?”
He shakes his head, “No. Get the fuck away from me and keep your little boyfriend in check.”
“For the last time, he’s not –”
“I don’t care what he is! The both of you need to leave me the fuck alone.”
Your heart breaks.
It wasn’t because you liked him. No, that wasn’t it. You just thought this could have been the start of something new since your love life had been wrecked for years thanks to the one and only Lee Donghyuck.
You can’t believe he had the audacity to wreck it again.
“I’m sorry.” Your voice comes out in a whisper, way too low for him to hear, but he waves you off anyway, “I’ll go.”
He doesn’t say anything; doesn’t even watch as you turn your back and walk away, past the blue plastic curtains and out the heavy double doors. The more steps you take, the heavier your heart feels in your chest. Tears burn in your eyes and anger clouds your head with each passing second like poison.
Haechan wasn’t getting away with this, you were going to make sure.
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You see fucking red.
Storming through the halls of Hogwarts was a rare occurrence for you, but today was different. People gasped as you briskly brushed past them, your head so hot it felt like smoke might billow from your ears. Annoyed shouts of 'hey' or 'watch it' barely registered as you descended the stairs leading to the ominous 'Slytherin Dungeon.' The air grew colder with each step, mirroring the iciness in your gaze. Thoughts of pounding Haechan's face swirled in your mind, and you couldn't shake the fiery anger fueling your every move.
You knew if Jihyo was here she would make fun of your anger, claiming that you didn’t belong in Hufflepuff with your temper.
Too bad she wasn’t.
Maybe she could have calmed you down, slowed your racing heart and spoken some sense into your hard head, but alas, she wasn’t, and you were only growing more furious by the second.
Reaching the bottom of the staircase, you rounded a corner and collided with a Slytherin you recognized as Chenle, thanks to Renjun's heads up. His light green hair parted down the middle, coupled with the trademark Slytherin resting bitch face, transformed into a smirk upon seeing you.
“Y/N! Glad you could make it!” His voice is deeper than you would have thought, and he was much taller when you walked up to him.
"Yeah, yeah, let me in." Impatiently tapping your foot, you watched as he opened the door, revealing the booming bass of the music inside.
"Say hey to him for me." Chenle grinned, extending an arm to welcome you.
You pushed past him, retorting over your shoulder, "You can tell Renjun yourself." Confusion flashed over his face, but the door slammed shut before further words could be exchanged, sealing you inside.
The ambiance in Slytherin territory starkly contrasted with your dorm. Damp darkness replaced the natural sunlight, and the air carried the scent of spicy cologne rather than the comforting aroma of food.
Thank God I wasn’t placed in Slytherin, you think.
Music reverberates off the walls and lands loudly on your eardrums, a soft green glow emitting from the end of the hallway. Conversation and laughter can be heard just slightly above the music, and you follow it till you’re at the end of the corridor and in the den of the snakes.
Green.
There’s green everywhere.
But your dormmates were nowhere to be found. In fact, all you saw in every direction were green robes with the occasional pop of yellow and blue.
No Gryffindors, interesting.
A hand lands on your arm and you jump back at least ten feet.
"Woah, it's just me." Renjun's eyes crinkled with a smile as he extended a drink towards you. You accepted it with a silent 'thank you.'
"Your friends are in the bathroom, I think, but I can wait with you if you like." Renjun's politeness caught you off guard. This has got to be the nicest Slytherin boy you’ve ever met.
As you took a sip of the bitter liquid, you mused, "No need to wait with me... I came to see someone real quick, and then I'll be on my way."
"I know he deserves it, but go easy on him, okay?" Renjun's words hung in the air, causing you to stare at him with disbelief. Sensing your anger, he quickly stepped back, raising a hand. "You know what, forget I said anything."
Cocking your head, you smiled, "Know where I can find him?"
Renjun simply pointed behind you.
Turning around, you spotted the boy in question, lounging on a couch stripped of his robes. Clad in a white button-up shirt and black slacks, Haechan exuded an air of arrogant nonchalance. Two girls clung to either side of him, and a few friends surrounded him, exchanging laughs and banter.
"Thanks, Renjun." You mutter, not bothered to look behind you and see that he wasn’t standing there anymore.
You down the rest of your drink in one gulp and leave the plastic solo cup on a random side table as you stalk over to where the blonde headed boy was lounging. When you push past his friends, his eyes snap to you.
“Glad you could make it.” He beams, eyes washing over your body. You were in that damn skirt, and it drove him fucking wild.
Ignoring him, you placed your hands on your hips. "Get up."
He chuckled, patting his thigh. "Why don't you sit down and enjoy the party?" Laughter erupted from his friends, and the girls hanging off his arms glared at you.
“Get. Up.” You seethe.
“Feisty aren’t you.” He murmurs, shrugging off the girls at his side and standing up.
“Lead the way to your room.”
A few hoots and hollers followed you as he guided you away from the party and into the hallway. "Can't wait to get your hands on me?"
Ignoring him, you followed, your gaze trailing from the back of his neck to his shoulder blades visible through the sheer fabric of his shirt. The muscles rippled as he opened the heavy door of his bedroom, and you had to tear your eyes away before saying something stupid.
The room was as expected, draped in dark green bedding and scattered quidditch gear. The scent of him surrounded you, reminiscent of that damned amortentia brewing session.
While he walks further into the room, you slam the door shut and spin around, “Where the hell do you get off – ”
“Right there.”
“What?” You blink.
“I get off right there.” He jabs a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of his bed, “Almost every night, unless I have a match the next day. You know, gotta keep the tension building so I do my best…”
You groan, “You’re unbelievable.” He chuckles a bit and steps closer to you, igniting the nerves that were already high strung, on fire, but you push the thought away, “Why do you feel the need to fuck around with the guys I like.”
“I was trying to win the game. Trust me, you and your relationship was nowhere on my mind.” What a fucking lie, he thinks. “I’m flattered you were thinking about me though.”
“Are you always this full of yourself?” You bite.
He flashes a beaming smile, pearly white teeth on display and you wished you didn’t stare too long at his canines. He had such a pretty smile and you wished you didn’t have to notice it. “When you look like I do, it’s kind of hard not to be.”
“Slytherin suits you, huh?” you sneer.
“Exactly.” He reaches an arm overtop of you and semi cages you against the door and his body, “So now that’s cleared up, can I go back out there and celebrate my win?”
He was so close to you, his lips only inches from your own, and his cologne was wafting up in your face sending you into a daze. God he was so cute, no not cute – hot. He was hot. You wonder what it would feel like to stretch your neck and kiss him. Did he taste how he smelled?
The fucking drink.
Whatever Renjun had given you was reaching your bloodstream way faster than muggle alcohol. You make a mental note to rip his head off later, but for now you turn your attention back to Haechan’s insanely close face.
“You need to realize –”
He cuts you off again, “Look, I’m all for being in here with you, but if you insist on keeping that pretty mouth running, I suggest you put it to good use instead of chastising me.” His eyes flicker from your own to your lips, almost like he was thinking about kissing you just as much as you were thinking about kissing him.
Do it, just kiss me, you think, but different words are said, “You wish.”
“Yeah, I do.” He quips.
“Can’t you be serious for one fucking second you asshole.” A drawn-out groan escapes you as you press your hand against him, hoping to coax him into backing off. Regrettably, he remains a solid wall of muscle and strength, unmoved by your attempts.
“Sorry, it’s just hot when you insult me. Do it again” He wiggles his eyebrows at you and leans in, one hand reaching out to caress the underside of your jaw.
He doesn't know where the newfound confidence was coming from. You were supposed to hate him, yet he had you in his bedroom. The same bedroom where he thought about fucking you. Where he got off to the memories of that goddamn mirror. Where he fantasized about you slotting your thighs on either side of his head, and sitting down on his waiting lips.
You swat his hand away, “Do you have any idea how stupid you are?”
“Not as stupid as you would look with a cock in your mouth.”
Wishful thinking, he muses.
You roll your eyes at his remark, but nonetheless a heat surges between your legs. You would look stupid – but Haechan’s cock in your mouth sounds all too great. “Are you done?”
“Done with what?”
You roll your eyes. Again. “Being an idiot.”
“Would an idiot make you flush so easily like this?” He strokes a stray hair behind your ear, his fingertips burning against your skin, “See? I make you flustered. You want me. Badly.”
Again, wishful thinking.
“You think I want you badly?” You scoff, a hand coming in contact with his crotch, “You’re the one hard. Do you get off on hurting people?”
“Yes.” He stares into your eyes, a mischievous glint shining in them, “I do.”
“God you’re fucking pathetic.”
He groans and pushes his hips into your hand. “Say it again.”
A loud and drawn-out gasp leaves your lips, “No fucking way you’re getting off on this too.” His dick twitches in his pants at your accusation.
“You talk too much. Just suck my dick already.”
Third times a charm.
Seeing him like that, pliant underneath your hand… it makes your heartbeat erratic and your face flush. You could tell he wanted it, and he wanted it bad, so why didn’t you give in to it? Give in to him? The air around you shifts and whatever it was, it has you lowering yourself down onto the floor so that you were kneeling below him, hands clawing at his belt buckle.
His eyes widen when he realizes what you’re doing. “I was kidd –”
“Is this what you want?” you coo, “Want me on my knees like this?” You slip his belt through the loops slowly and muster up the most innocent smile you could.
“You should stop, I was kidding.” He grunts, forearms tightening when you get his belt off and start on his pants button.
“I think you should shut up.”
He complies and doesn’t say a word while you pull both his pants and boxers down till they pooled around his ankle and he kicked them off.
Lee Donghyuck had a right to be cocky.
His cock sprung up against his abdomen standing tall and hard, clear, sticky precum droplets collecting on his tip. He fidgets under your gaze, but you were in awe at how big he was.
“Are you just gonna look at it?” He whines, one of his hands wrapping around your head and fisting tightly in your hair, “At least kiss it or something.”
You watched him twitch slightly as the cold air met his length, and again when your hand wandered past his thigh to grip him in your palm, squeezing him tightly at the base. He shivers into your touch, “You have a pretty dick.”
“So, I’ve been told.” He all but moans and tries to bring your head forward.
His neediness draws you closer, and you take him in your mouth. He was heavy and sweet, so fucking right for you that you don’t think straight and take him all the way in till he hits the back of your throat.
“Fuck.” He groans, holding your head down till you were choking and batting his thighs.
When he lets up, you gasp for air though you don’t find yourself mad, instead, you feel the fire in your stomach growing hotter and the wetness in your panties pooling.
“Ke-Keep going.” He stutters, the intent was strong, but his words broke in the moment.
You turn you head and lick from the base of his cock to his tip, relishing the way he bucks his hips into your fist. A rosy blush covers his neck and cheeks when you look up at him. When you meet his doe eyes, they were hooded with lust. For a split second he watches you lick all over him, giving a few small kisses on his tip, before he rolls his head back and closes his eyes.
Messily, you spit on his tip, using your hands to spread it down his length and he groans into the stilled air. “You’re so fucking hot.”
“So, I’ve been told.” You mock his earlier words, and his hold on your hair tightens as a warning.
Rolling your eyes, you take him in your mouth again, leaving your hand to pump his base while you harshly suck at his hot skin. He tries to push into the back of your throat again but knowing that you couldn’t take him again without choking, you dig your nails into his thighs, leaving him to shamelessly whimper out.
“Your mouth feels so fucking good baby.” He grunts, losing himself in the way your warm mouth glides down his length, and the right amount of pressure you’re squeezing around his base. If he closed his eyes, he could almost pretend it was your cunt he was pounding into.
You hum around his cock at the praise and repeat your movements, slightly taken aback by his pet name. In the back corner of your mind, you hope it was just a slip of the tongue.
The alcohol had too much of a hold on you to think about anything else other taking his cock down your throat, and loving every second. 
His chest begins to heave, and his legs start to shake bit as you draw him deeper down your throat, and when you look up, you notice his curious eyes watching you. He thinks about unbuttoning his shirt but pushes the thought aside when you erratically rub the underside of his length with your tongue.
“Bet you love the taste of my cock.” He whispers and you moan around a mouthful of him, the vibrations sending him into a euphoric head high.
He wasn’t wrong. You loved this, loved the feeling of having him slightly submissive under you with his dominant nature peeking through a bit.
It felt like a fucking dream.
“Can I cum down your throat?”
You’re shocked that he’s close already, but with the palpable tension beforehand acting like foreplay, you shouldn’t be. You try and nod to the best of your ability and you guess he gets the message because he’s fisting your hair again and drawing you close, a string of curses falling from his lips.
Uncontrollable gasps and grunts leave him as he fucks your throat, leaving you to helplessly take it – take all of him, and before you know it, hot white cum is shooting down your throat, his head thrown back as he snaps his hips against your face.
You felt like a rag doll in his grip but that didn’t matter right now, all that mattered was swallowing his arousal, a bit of it landing on your tongue and while you thought it was going to taste salty, you’re mildly surprised to find its sweet.
“My god, I can’t believe you actually did that.”  He pants, moving to put his slacks back on while you stand up and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, “I – Thank you.”
A darker blush flushes on his face and he turns to you now fully dressed. He wasn’t sure what to say now, and that was a first for him.
“Are you happy?” You spit, a bout of spite coming out of nowhere, “Did you get what you wanted? Will you leave me and Jeno alone now?”
He stumbles back like your words had a physical effect on him, “What are you talking about? You dragged me in here?”
Where did the sudden flip of emotion come from? One minute you had his cock in your mouth and the next you’re yelling at him again. The both of you can’t come up with an answer, but somewhere in your brain you knew it was your way of trying to convince yourself the rising feelings you were having towards him weren’t a thing; would never be a thing.
“Just leave me and Jeno alone now. Okay?”
You straighten your blouse and fix your hair before opening the door behind you and storming out. He tries to follow you, half stumbling through the hall till he was out in the party again where his friends clap him on the back, congratulating him on ‘hitting that yellow tail’, but he can’t find it in himself to smile and jeer back. All he does is watch you storm away, his friend Renjun reaching out for you. Your dormmates try and stop you but you blow past them and round the corner where the door to the stairs were.
Should he let you go?
Or should he follow?
"Fuck this."
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TAGLIST. @txpxwxk @sunshinedhyuck @honeym4rk2 @saenora @peachjaem00 @grassbutneo @capri-cuntz @seajae @kenmathegreat @aliceinwhateverland @fraechan @monyuno @meowniee @ggukkyu @quarter-life-crisis2 @nominsgirl @dewydew @httpxelysian11 @rainyjeno
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allfearstofallto · 2 months
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Sleeping Like the Dead
Yandere! Diluc x Fem! Reader
Forced marriage AU
Word Count: 2.3k
Synopsis: Diluc craves your body like a drug, but the only time he can get you, is when you're fast asleep
TW: NSFW, Somnophila, Non-Con, Masturbation (.male), Oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex, mentions of breeding/finishing inside
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The only thing that could seem to wake you was thunder. A loud crash and the windows shaking, followed by howling wind, and you'd be up shivering in fear. You'd lie back down once you realized what the noise that woke you was, and you were out like a light. Deep in slumber, snoring ever so softly.
Even though you were married on paper, you and Diluc never shared a marital bed. The marriage was never consummated and the most he'd ever seen of your body was your legs and maybe even a sliver of your stomach in the summer. Other than that, you stayed dressed head to toe like a nun.
He knew it was his fault that you were like this. Being forced into marriage with him, you didn't even want to tempt his urges. You were told time and time again that nothing would happen, not while you didn't want it, but he was failing to believe that himself.
It was when he saw you one night, after you'd just gotten out of the bath. Normally, he stayed in his room at nightfall, but now, he was particularly thirsty. Whether it was good luck or the gods actually blessing him for once, he saw you go into your room and close the door behind you.
Did he buy you those nightgowns? If he did, he definitely didn't remember doing so. But the red haired man did buy you whatever you wanted, no questions asked. So maybe you'd managed to slip an order in for them without him noticing. And archons how he wished he'd noticed.
The swell of your breasts, the curve of your ass, plush thighs and skin still steaming from your bath. You didn't notice him standing in front of the door to his room, but he noticed you. A brief glance was all it took, light work for anyone else who'd been married for as long as you two had, but it was the first time he's seen so much of you, and he felt his pants tighten at the sight.
He stormed back into his room while the memory was still fresh, not even bothering to make it to the bed. The door slammed shut behind him, he pressed his back against it and dropped his pants to his ankles.
It felt like electricity all over his body as he stroked his cock, eyes rolling back, tongue out his mouth. Diluc wasn't a prude, he masturbated when he deemed it necessary, which was when he got erections that were particularly stubborn and annoying, but this was the first time in his life that it'd ever felt so good.
It only took a few pumps and suddenly he was moaning into his hands, hips twitching as his cock shot ropes of cum onto his carpeted floor. He panted watching himself make this mess, but his mind shifted onto how you could clean it up. And his length refused to go soft. He fucked his fist for the rest of the night.
Diluc often heard stories of how hard it was to wake you up. That's when he learned how truly a heavy sleeper you were.
“The lady slept through breakfast again today,” a maid would say in a whisper. They thought he couldn't hear them, but as long as they weren't saying anything rude about you, he acted oblivious to it.
“She fell back asleep after I woke her up three times!”
“I called for her for a full five minutes, and she barely stirred,”
Temptation is a hell of a drug. Satisfaction is even more addicting. Maybe that's why he decided to visit your room one night. Hours after you'd left your bath and when he was sure you were asleep, he eased your door open and stepped inside. His heart was racing, afraid that you wouldn't be asleep, but instead sitting on the edge of your bed, waiting to confront him.
But you weren't. You were just like how he'd thought you’d be. Asleep in bed, lying on your stomach with your arms wrapped around a pillow and pulling it into a tight embrace. Your blanket was thrown haphazardly over your body, you obviously kicked a lot in your sleep, making it shuffle around.
Exhaling the quietest deep breath he could muster, he pulled that blanket to the side. Sure enough, like the maids said, you didn't stir, and much to his pleasure, you were wearing another one of those revealing nightgowns. With one leg slightly up, he could get a good glimpse of your round ass and your panties that seemed to be slipping between your moist lips.
He sucked in air through his teeth, taking in every inch of your body. Every curve, every soft piece of skin. He'd mentally promised himself this would be a one time thing. It felt awful invading your privacy like this, but his hormones were getting the better of him.
His cock was released from his pants and he began pumping it furiously. Biting his lip to hold back the moans once again, he watched the way your chest rose and fell as you slept. It only took a little bit and he was cumming, quicker than he ever had in his entire life and more intensely than he'd ever felt.
The rational part of his mind told him to leave no messes, so he made sure to cover the leaking tip of his cock with his hand to not spill his seed everywhere. Still, he couldn't help himself. He dipped a finger in his own cum, then pressed it against your slightly open mouth, wanting you to at least taste him a little.
The sight of you suckling that cum off his finger, lips pursed and wet with drool, the sight had him hard again already, but he decided against tempting fate. He'd finish himself off in his room again. This was a one time thing after all.
Was what he'd told himself, but he found himself in front of your door again, going to your room almost every night. It was like an addiction, standing in your room next to your sleeping form and fucking his cock into his hand while looking at you. And he grew bolder as the nights went on.
Moving your panties to the side to finally get a full view of that wet cunt, rubbing the tip of his cock against your lips to get you to suckle on it like before, he even managed to slip a finger inside your entrance, getting to feel your warm walls for the first time. The way you coated his fingers nearly made him grunt and he thrusted it in and out of you, watching your face contort in your sleep, little moans and mewls dropping from your lips.
Diluc imagined that it was his cock instead of his finger getting to fuck your pussy, that it was his cock making your eyebrows knit together and your fingers twitch. He could only imagine though, his other hand fisting his cock at the same pace as his finger.
He'd even gotten so bold as to start licking your cunt. His tongue poking out of his mouth, he'd tongue at your clit and watch you squirm in your sleep. Your taste was intoxicating, the juices your tight hole would secrete tasted better than what celestia would feel like, and while lapping up your folds between your legs, his dick would twitch and he'd cum inside his pants, completely untouched.
All good things must come to an end. A sad, but truthful statement. And Diluc wanted this to end. He really did. Each day he'd say that this would be the last one, that he wouldn't do this to you again, that it was becoming too risky, but sure enough he was back at your door the next day. He'd spend the whole night finding new ways to pleasure himself with your sleeping body.
All good things come to an end. Maybe he should've been thinking that when he arrived at your door on the night of a harsh thunderstorm. If his mind wasn't clouded by lust, if all his blood wasn't flowing to his lower regions, then maybe he would've remembered how particularly scared of thunderstorms you were. If his face wasn't buried between your legs again, then maybe he would've remembered the maids saying the only time you woke up easily, is when there was a storm and heavy wind outside. If he wasn't pumping his cock while licking at your pussy, going practically drunk from your taste, maybe he would've noticed that you'd begun to stir more than usual, more than out of a sleepy, unintentional pleasure.
The last thing Diluc was expecting was to look up and meet your gaze. With his lips still suctioned around your clit, your face was a mixture of disgust and mostly fear. Eyes wide and filled with tears, you opened your mouth, maybe to scream, maybe to yell at him, he didn't know. He was on top of you before you could let out a peep, one of his hands covering your mouth. After a bit of a struggle, he managed to use the other hand to hold both your wrists above your head.
“I'm- I'm sorry!” He gasped as you thrashed beneath him, but you were no match for his strength and all you were doing was wearing yourself out, “I-i swear! I don't know what came over me!”
But something has been coming over him for weeks, months even. If you knew how long he'd been doing this, you'd look at him in even more horror. Your eyes. So big and filled with tears, it only made his heart thump against his chest harder, but what else was he to do?
He laid on top of you, hand covering your mouth for what felt like hours, dick still twitching and conveniently between your folds. This was the worst time for him to be hard, not while you were awake. Not while you were scared of him to the point of crying, but he couldn't help it. It was you. You did this to him.
“I'm so so sorry,” he muttered as he angled his hips, the tip of his cock finally at your entrance. He didn't think your eyes could open any wider, but sure enough, they did when he forced every inch of himself inside you, bottoming out without stopping while pleading for your forgiveness. Your yelp, the noise you made as you were made to take him, was muffled by his palm, body squirming even more as you tried to get away.
He always said his first time with you would be gentle. It would be loving as passionate. He would take things slow and kiss every inch of you, to make sure you were ready for him. But the way you felt around him, the way you clenched around his length, it felt like his hips had a mind of their own as they started a rough, brutal pace. Slapping against yours so hard, even the headboard of the bed had begun to hit the wall.
“Fuck! Ahh! Fuck fuck! I'm so sorry! Hnng- please…ah! Please! I'm sorry,” he whined, but he didn't slow down for a second. You were so warm inside. So wet. This was made for him, he was sure of it, “Please, you- you hah- have to forgive me.”
You could thrash and squirm and cry as much as you wanted to, but Diluc had had his taste and he wouldn't be satisfied with any less anymore. He kept fucking into you, pounding you so hard, rutting his hips into you like an animal in heat.
You saw the way his eyelids flutter, you felt the way his hips stuttered, his pace grew sloppy, his grip loosened, drool fell from his lips, his moans grew breathier. You saw it all and you knew what was about to happen.
“Fuck,” he gasped between thrusts, eyes rolled back. He forced his dick as he could inside you, balls deep and held it there, feeling the way your silken walls contracted around it, “I'm gonna cum.”
There was no way to tell him no with his hand over your lips, so you were made to watch and feel in horror as he grew even more aggressive with his fucking. There were no thoughts behind his eyes, just pleasure, just lust and the primal urge to finish.
“Inside. Hah- aanh. Cumming inside, fuck!” He affirmed your fears through his filthy moans. His dick twitching inside you made your heart sink. You could feel it. The way his cum was spitting out of his length and hitting your walls. It felt neverending, like he'd stored so much waiting for this moment, some of it even spilling back out of your entrance and onto his balls.
Reality must've hit him after he came, because he was off of you in an instant. His length softened and his face filled with dread. Cum leaked onto your bedsheets, but despite the fact that he was no longer muffling you with his hands, you couldn't scream. You couldn't even think for a second as you realized what happened.
He looked just as scared as you did, but why? What gave him the right? Why did he deserve to be scared when he was the one who did it?
“I fucking hate you,” you spoke through strangled sobs and you watched his world crumble.
Those words felt like you were slicing his heart out and stabbing it over and over again. They made him tear up as well. But somehow, the sight of you, disheveled, with his seed leaking from your hole, somehow that made his dick twitch back to life. Even your crying face, while not as appealing as you sleeping peacefully, was gorgeous. Arousing even.
His cock twitched back to life as he looked upon you, half undressed and practically ready for him. He began a slow crawl towards you again, his urges wanting to take over once more. You already hated him. What was the harm in doing more?
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saltburnedme · 4 months
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My requests are open! Message/comment to be added to the tag list!
Paring: Oliver Quick x Fem!Reader
Word count: 3520
Summary: You’d only been visiting family at Saltburn for a few weeks, but this time you couldn’t shift the feeling of something or someone watching you.
Warnings: SMUT (ONLY READ IF YOU ARE 18+) unprotected sex, oral sex (female receiving), choking, stalking? Kind of?, two way mirrors, vague horror ish themes, dubious consent, generally fucked up smut overall
Writers note: Hi friends! This is my first Oliver fic, I’m planning on writing more so let me know if you have any requests. I’ve only seen the film once so I apologise if my writing of him isn’t quite right yet.. just read his parts with his accent and I think it works! Please share, comment, like and all of those good things 💕💕
Part 2
21 days, almost a full month, that’s how long it had taken you to get to grips with the enormity of Saltburn. Most of that time had been spent mistakenly walking into a linen closet which supplied one of the many bedrooms believing it was the entrance to your room. You’d even drawn yourself a map by this point and somehow, you still managed to get lost, the house was almost as much of a maze as the actual maze in the garden was. You had checked off your room, all of the shared spaces and most of the other bedrooms, inhabited or otherwise, all marked down perfectly on your little map. There was only one wing of the house which you were not allowed into, Elsbeth called it the ‘bachelor pad’ something you know Felix would have at the very least groaned at. He’d been sharing this space with his guest, another student named Oliver. He was quiet, a bit of a mystery overall but from that you assessed that he was a man who liked his privacy, making you chalk up their reluctance to have you in that space no more than a matter of comfort. A comfort you wish that you could say you felt also.
You visited Saltburn many times as a child, the family themselves were distant relatives of yours which is why you always summered there when your parents were away on business. You’d never felt uncomfortable there before, but this time something was different even though you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. Maybe it was the heat getting to you, maybe it was the ever changing list of house guests that visited or the way that it seemed the eyes on the paintings of long dead aristocracy seemed to follow you around the room. Something had changed, if only you could put your finger on it.. or a toe.. maybe even an out stretched palm if you felt confident enough, anything to make this restlessness end. Every night that you laid in bed, you felt something, someone, watching you. You had checked, you’d opened every door, searched every shelf and wandered into every linen closet in the vicinity of your room and every time, nothing. Your well drawn map granting you no ease of mind, even with all of the labels you’d added to it over the last few weeks. The constant tossing and turning ceased only by one saving grace, you’d remembered to pack your vibrator.
Every night like clockwork your little buzzing friend would find the tingling mound between your legs, slipping in and out seamlessly like always, making you cum within a few minutes. That was until tonight, maybe you should have expected it. 21 days in a row of usage, the batteries were sure to go flat at some point, you just didn’t think it would be so soon. Placing it into the draw of the bedside table you go back to the constant pacing feeling in your mind as you attempted to sleep. The watching feeling was back, the hairs on your arms standing up, the feeling of the familiar prickling at the back of your neck as if something dangerous was approaching from the shadows. But sleep finally took you, once again.
The sound of knuckles tapping against the wood of the door early every morning tore you from your sleep, a much needed sleep. The curtains being torn open and the light hitting your face remind you of where you are almost immediately, at least this time with the maids in your room you knew who was watching you. ‘Breakfast is ready’ she says as she leaves the room as promptly as she arrived, off to wake another of the Saltburn family without a doubt. Crawling out of bed in your white night dress, you throw on a matching robe over the top, fumbling your slippers on, briefly checking your reflection in the full length mirror mounted to the wall across from your bed before wandering down the long halls to the breakfast table. Taking your usual seat you notice no one else has awoken yet, your tired eyes settling on the food in front of you, you almost fall asleep sitting up eating. The exhaustion of the last few days finally catching up with you. ‘You looked frustrated last night’ a low voice utters quietly a few seats across from you, the low muttering making you jump out of your skin with shock.
‘Excuse me?’ You question, a puzzled look on your face which could have been mistaken for anger, your words coming out harsher than you expected. You see the man across from you almost retreat into himself, he’d barely uttered a word to you in the last 21 days and now this? Your mind immediately flashing back to your frustration at your vibrator unceremoniously dying on you, surely that isn’t what he refers to tho.. right? ‘Oh Oliver, I’m sorry, I’m so tired that came out poorly. what do you mean?’ You question, making Oliver un tense slightly.
‘I saw you looking for something last night’ he begins. ‘Anything I can help with?’ He questions.
‘Oh, That. I was just trying to get a better lay of the land. Every time i visit I swear this place is rearranged, it’s like a new house every time.’ You reply.
‘Sure, that must have been it’ he replies, no follow up, nothing. Although it was more of a conversation than you’d managed with him this whole time, you expected maybe something else would have come from this. He could have offered to help you, anything. Although you hadn’t spoken that much you’d find it hard to argue that you hadn’t developed a little crush on him, his dark hair in contrast with his piercing blue eyes, surely that would make any girl swoon.
Just as you finally thought of something to say, the thought of offering him an invitation to explore the mansion with you to further expand your map, the rest of the family arrived, keen to discuss plans for the day. Your hopes of getting to know Oliver better shattered once again.
You continued your day like normal, a dip in the pool, a little bit of reading, another trip to a random room to expand the map and eventually dinner and straight to bed.
Once again you were kept up, tonight you indulged in wine a little bit more than usual, the knowledge of the lack of batteries to fuel your only release weighing heavy on your mind.
Crawling into bed you listen to the creaking of the wooden floorboards in the hallway, the sound of the old house almost swaying in the breeze as if that were possible. You try to ignore the familiar ache between your thighs as you long for sleep subtly grinding against the palm of your hand as you crave the release you know you can’t have. The feeling growing stronger and your movements becoming more unsubtle as you move the covers off of you, the fabric of your night dress pooling up around your hips as you grind, longing for that familiar feeling. ‘Ugh, fuck sake’ you groan, it’s of no use. You roll over frustratedly, your face buried in pillows as you let out a silent scream. That’s when you hear it, the floorboards creaking, the sound too loud to be from the hallway and it wasn’t just creaking this time, footsteps. But it couldn’t be, you’d locked the door to your room, the only other way in was through the window which you had ensured was locked.
‘Hello?’ You ask tentatively, sitting bolt upright in bed at this point. You weren’t sure if you prayed for an answer or not, at least if there were an answer you’d know for certain that you weren’t alone. But no answer came.
2:41am, you’d checked the clock at least 20 times by now every time you had almost drifted to sleep another creak on the floorboards would tare you from your dreams. It sounded almost as if they were getting closer, they’d began earlier by your mirror and by now they were approaching the head of the bed. Sometimes you even thought you could feel something touching you, lightly re arranging the way your hair fell on the pillow, or something lightly tugging at the blanket that covered your body. But this time you felt it for sure.
The weight on the bed shifted, while you lay in the middle, the bed dipped on the side, the unmistakeable feeling of someone sitting at the side of the bed. Another second and you felt it, a hand on your ankle wrapped tight. Terrified you sit, unable to move. You never imagined this is how you’d be in this position, you’d scream and fight when you’d imagined this scenario previously but you were wrong, so wrong. You lay there silently, only when you felt the grip on your ankle tighten did you even let on that you were awake as you were harshly dragged down the bed, now splayed out in the middle. Before you could scream a hand smacks over your mouth with a slap, silencing any sound that could have come out of you.
‘What were you thinking about?’ A voice in the dark asks, an accent of some sort laced in his words surely belonging to the owner of the strong hands currently pinning you against the bed. ‘Who were you thinking about?’ The voice continues, more demanding this time as the accent becomes clearer, Oliver? Surely not. The sweet, quiet man who sits across from you silenced by his own nervousness every breakfast, it can’t be him. You try to answer, your words muffled by the hand over your mouth, although you’re sure it would be less of an answer and more of a demanding to get out of your room.
‘Was it me? Tell me it was me.’ He demands, his hand dropping from your mouth to your throat, wrapped around tightly grasping at the column of your neck.
‘I-I Uhm’ your reply coming out as nonsense. He was right, you had been thinking of him. You’d seen his physique while sunbathing, sneaking a glance when you believed no one would notice. But now with his hand wrapped around your neck and his body pressing into yours your mind was blank.
‘Answer me’ he demands, hand tightening as his face grows ever closer to yours. At this distance you swear you can almost see the moonlight shining through the window reflecting off of his blue eyes, glimmering at you.
‘You.. it was you’ you stutter out quietly, your words shocking even you as they come out breathy and quiet.
‘What a good girl you’ve been for me’ he says, his grip loosening on your throat as he glides his index finger down your cheek.
‘Bu-but how did you.. where.. what’ you question, a full sentence becoming too much for your brain to handle, but the man on top of you seems to have gotten the gist of your line of questioning.
‘I’ve been watching you’ he replies. ‘You and your little map. Wandering around like you own the place’ his words laced with venom. ‘I’ll admit you did make it harder for me. You thought you were so smart checking everywhere, you never bothered to check within your own room’. He continues as your eyes fight with the dark, darting around every corner of the room. That’s when you spot it, the light reflecting off of the mirror slightly wrong, it was almost as if the glass was rippling, the reflection always seeming a little off, it was a two way mirror. From the spot where it was mounted on the wall, you realised that it was pushed slightly further than usual, the story all making sense in your mind suddenly. You hadn’t been imaging things, you had heard footsteps inside the room, someone was watching you, Oliver.
‘Our rooms share a serving corridor as these old houses do sometimes’ he says as if it was an obvious fact, something everyone would know. He could see a million questions whirling behind your eyes, snapping you out of your thoughts as his soft fingers against your cheek suddenly turn into a slap, grasping your face turning your lips into a pout. ‘Now, I know what you do to sleep and I took the liberty of removing the batteries from your useless little toy there’ he sneers at you, you can almost feel his smirk against your lips as he comes in closer. This was nothing like the man you had vaguely come to know over the last few weeks, he was mean, cruel even and you knew it wouldn’t be long until you admitted that you liked it, you loved this version of Oliver. ‘I thought, just maybe if you’d get impatient enough you’d come to me yourself. But the little miss never came’ he continues, finding himself amusing at his own pun. ‘So I came to you’ putting extra emphasis on his words to make a point as to almost poke at you. ‘Now, I can either leave and go back to my room or I can help you with your predicament. Would you like that?’ He questions, still holding your face in his hands ensuring you look straight into his eyes as your head nods, partially guided by Oliver’s hand moving your face for you. ‘Good girl’ he places a light peck onto your lips. ‘The former was never really an option anyway, did you really think I could leave all this now that I have you here?’ His question sounding more like a statement, he didn’t care about your answer, he decided you belonged to him the moment he stepped into the room. His hand slips from your face, grasping your throat once more before climbing further onto the bed, throwing the covers off of you and pushing your night dress up.
He sighs, the view of you almost making him cum on the spot. Oliver never imagined he’d actually do it, sure he’d thought of the thousand ways he could take you, he wanted to bend you over and fuck your brains out over the breakfast table every morning for the last month and now, in this single sigh he released a months worth of frustration. His desperate hands kneading at the supple flesh of your thighs, roaming up to where he was at his most desperate for you. The moment the pad of his thumb pressed against your clit a jolt of electricity raced through your body, moving you with a shocked flinch against the bed. His eyes bore into yours as if almost warning you to stay still, a warning you would absolutely heed. His eyes transfixed on yours as his thumb swirled around your sensitive nub, gathering slick from your entrance just to return to your clit, your climax building from the moment he touched you. You were almost there, your peak was in sight you could feel it building when he tore his hand from you. A smirk pressed against his lips as he bent down to kiss you, he was proud, he ruined your orgasm and he was proud of it. Just as you settled into the lack of his touch, his lips hovering against yours he plunged his fingers into you, without warning a loud gasp leaving your lips. You knew you’d fucked up the moment the sound left your mouth, his fingers being pulled from you once more.
‘Good girls stay quiet, do you understand me? We wouldn’t want the rest of them finding out how much of a whore you are now would we?’ He sneers, your heart rate increasing as you nod your head again. ‘Such a good girl for me. I’ll make sure to reward you, just stay quiet for me’ he continues, his words softer this time as his fingers return to your warm, wet entrance.
It was harder to stay quiet than you expected. His pace was relentless and now as he kissed down your body, your night dress torn from you and the remaining scrap of fabric now discarded to the floor, the want to moan for him was overwhelming. This was only made worse when his lips wrapped around your sensitive mound. His tongue and fingers moving at the same time, sucking on your most sensitive parts like a man starved. He was desperate for you and now, you were for him. You couldn’t resist it and he could tell, your climax was imminent as you rocked your hips against his mouth. From watching you he knew that you covered your mouth with your hand or bit down onto your fist when you came in an attempt to muffle the sounds. To compensate for this, at the moment your shaking orgasm rippled through your body he shoved his fingers into your mouth, the taste of your own juices heavy on your tongue as he suckled and licked you through your peak, his eyes still fixed on yours.
You thought that was it, he said he wanted to help you and he had, you’d half expected him to leave when he tore his own shirt over his head, pushing his boxers down his thighs as he pushes your legs further open with the weight of his own body. With one hand next to your head and his other white knuckle grasping his cock he glided his length through the slick of your pussy. His lustful gaze had left yours now, favouring watching his tip spread you wide for him. Just as your eyes left his face to watch the sight between your legs you were interrupted. ‘Look at me’ he demands ‘I want to see the look on your face when I split you open’ his words being of continuous shock to you, where had your quiet kind man gone?
Although you’d hate to say he was correct, he was. Even with your drenched hole and your legs spread wide for him the burn as he entered you was real. He was unbelievably thick and long, his length impaling you again and again as he begins thrusting into you relentlessly. He was as desperate for release as you were, maybe you should have known, your sweet man in his full right mind would surely never break into your room and do this to you if he wasn’t desperate you reassured yourself. This can’t be the real him after all, it had to be an act.
These thoughts stayed with you for merely seconds as your eyes rejoined his as they flutter open, your mouth hanging open in a silent moan just like his. As if you could both feel the sound about to release your lips came crashing together, muffling the sound of your joint moans as his tongue slips into your month. It was a dirty, sinful act and you loved every second of it. You’d never felt this desperate for anyone in your life. You wanted him to cum inside you, breed you and make you his.
‘Once I cum inside you, you’re mine. Do you understand? I fucking own you’ he says, making you question if he has a future in a career in mind reading. He doesn’t wait for an answer taking the feeling of your walls tightening around his length as the only reply he would ever need again.
His pace quickens his body pressed against yours as his hand clasps over your mouth silencing you, your head held still as he glares into your eyes. You can feel it, his climax nearing, his thrusts becoming sloppier and more erratic as he breaks his own rule, groaning loudly into your kiss as he cums within you, his liquid filling you to the brim. The sound reverberates against the walls, someone must have heard that you think as he continues to fill you up. Just as you think he’d stopped, almost possessively he begins to move again. The feeling overwhelming both of your senses as he fucks his cum further into you before pulling out and repeating the same process with his fingers, watching a little bit trickle out before pushing it back inside you once more.
‘You’ll keep this inside you, you understand? You don’t get to clean yourself up’ he demands. ‘You’ll be a good girl for me tomorrow, at 10pm sharp you’ll get into the bath across the hall and wait for me. Got it?’ His demands continue as he places one last harsh kiss onto your lips, your eyes flickering closed for only a second, re opening when your kiss has parted. Just like that he was gone. His clothes, every part of him had left you almost without a trace. Your night dress torn on the floor you ponder how you’ll explain that to the maids in the morning as they’ll have to fix it. You cover yourself with the blanket again, your head pressed against the pillow as you finally go to sleep, the best you’ve slept in 21 days.
Part 2
Message to be added to the tag list! - current tag list: @idontevenknow1359
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strangersteddierthings · 11 months
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What's Eight Plus Seven?
Part One🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five
Prompt from @devious-kitten
Steve had a mild interest in DnD as a freshmen because of a cousin or something. The interest was killed by Eddie being mean since Steve is a jock. Post vecna Eddie finds dust covered DnD handbook Steve explains and Eddie faces a still hurt Steve as a results of his biases
((Half written fic, half rambling about how it would go down. Apologies for the formatting. Also I added more angst than the prompt called for hehe))
Steve has always loved sports. This is a well-known fact. He's played on some sort of sports team from the time he was old enough for his parents to be able to sign him up.
A lesser-known fact is that Steve loves fantasy. Or, at least, he used to. On the playground in elementary school, Steve could often be found playing knights and dragons, and it was anyone's guess if he would be a knight or a dragon on any particular day.
The summer between middle and high school, Steve spent with his grandparents from his mother's side, on the farm they'd retired on in Michigan. A month long stay that he'd shared with his cousins, Amber, Robert, and Christopher. Amber and Robert are twins, four years younger than Steve, and Christopher was two years older and infinitely cooler than anyone else Steve knew.
Christopher was on the varsity basketball team at his high school when he was just a sophomore, captain of the JV football team, president of the chess club, and in a games club.
Christopher was everything Steve wanted to be now that he was going to be in high school. Minus the chess club because
It was during that summer, Steve got to indulge in playing make believe for another summer with his younger cousins, without the judgement of people (his father and peers) who thought he was too old for such things. He also got to learn about make believe for older kids, because Christopher played a game called Dungeons and Dragons with his game club the last month of school before summer break and spent many evenings going over what had happened with Steve as a captive audience.
"I wish I'd brought the books," Christopher had whispered to him one night from the bed, peaking over to look down at Steve in his sleeping bag on the floor, "we could have played."
Steve wishes he'd brought the books, too.
At the end of July, Christopher, Amber, and Robert's parents show up to pick them up, five days before Steve's scheduled flight to Indianapolis. It's a sad goodbye because one summer a year isn't enough with his cousins but they live in Washington. Steve's always jealous their parents drive all the way to pick them up, but a little proud he gets to brag about how he's flown alone since he was seven. No one else in his class can brag about that.
His mom picks him up in Indianapolis and they go back to school shopping while there.
A week later, Steve receives a package from Christopher. Inside Steve finds Advanced Dungeons and Dragons books, three of them, and even though Christopher said nothing about advanced, he's sure he can manage. On the inside cover of the players handbook, Christopher has written:
Hey Steve, I think you'd rock playing a dwarf paladin. Let's play next summer? Christopher 1981
He spends the last three weeks of summer vacation reading the player handbook cover to cover and making a character. It's slow going, because letters don't stay where they're supposed to be on the page (that's a problem he's had his whole life, so he's not surprised but he is determined), and he's never been good at math, so getting the stats down on paper isn't easy. He can't decide what he wants to play, so he makes two characters; an elf magic-user and, of course, a dwarf paladin.
(He's a little disappointed you can't be a dragon.)
Steve's never been one to dread the first day of school, but he's never actually looked forward to it, either. It's just been another day.
Until today.
Today is his first day as a high schooler. And the only people who go to the first day are Freshman, except the upper classman that have volunteered to man the booths for school activities for the last hour of the day. It's supposed to help the Freshman get the lay of the land without being overwhelming and Steve's excited for it. He needs to see if Hawkins High has a games club like Christopher's school does.
Here Steve is, that last hour of school. He's already been to the basketball booth, promising to sign up as soon as the season started, and the swim booth because he's got a pool at his house and has been swimming for as long as he can remember and knows he enjoys it. He also stops by the football booth even though he's never played, or cared much, for it. (Maybe he's trying to emulate Christopher, sue him.). So, the final thing is to see if Hawkins High offers a chess club and a game club.
Steve is delighted to see that, though there is no games club, there is a Dungeons and Dragons club! That delight wavers because of the kid manning the booth. His hair is curly and falls just below his ears, with big brown eyes. Steve hates to think it, but he'd be cute if he didn't look like he wanted to stab Steve.
"Yeah, no, keep walking," says the boy, pulling the flier with meeting information on it out from under Steve's hand, where he'd been attempting to read it.
Steve looks up, brows furrowed in confusion. "I was reading that."
"And I said no. Jocks don't play Dungeons and Dragons."
"I could," Steve says, offended. He squints at the name tag sticker slapped diagonally across the way too big jean vest this guy's wearing. E-d-d-i-e. Eddie.
"Have you ever played?"
"Well... no, but-"
"No buts. Mitch let a jock join last year and that was a nightmare. He could barely read the rule book. And with how you were squinting down at the flier, and then my name tag, you're not going to be much better."
Jokes on Eddie, Steve's already read the rule book. Even if it was slowly. "I can read just fine."
"Can you math, then? What's eight plus seven?"
"What?"
"Simple addition. Eight plus seven. What is it?"
Steve knows simple addition. This is fine. It doesn't matter than he's been put on the spot, and that math is hard for the same reason as reading. He can do this. His hand twitches with wanting to pull it up and use it to keep track. He's faster at math when he can do that, but this jerk is mean mugging him and he just knows if he moves his hand, this guy will mock him the rest of the school year.
Eight plus seven. Ok. Make it easier, get to ten. It takes adding two to the eight to get ten. Ok. Take that two away from the seven now. That makes... five! Ok. Ten plus five is-
"Dude, it's fifteen," Eddie snaps.
"I knew that!"
Scoff. "Right. How about seventeen plus six."
Steve can feel his face turning red with embarrassment but he's not going to let this jackass be right. Round up. It takes three to get seventeen to twenty, so take three away from the six-
"23. Point proven. Go. Away. Go play your jock games and leave me- us alone."
Steve opens his mouth to argue, or maybe plead, that he can do this, and that, more importantly, he wants to do this, but laughter cuts through the air and for the first time, Steve notices the audience that has gathered. Three people are laughing at him, and his inability to do mental math, and it makes Steve snap his jaw shut and swallow.
"Mental math isn't that hard, Steve," one of them, Brant, says, as he elbows the guy next to him.
"Thank you!" Eddie says, "that's what I'm saying."
"Whatever, man, like I'd want to play make believe at this age anyway," Steve mutters and rushes away.
If, two weeks later, Steve watches Kyle trip who he now knows is Eddie 'The Freak' Munson in the bathroom, and drag him into a stall for a swirly, well, no he didn't. He briefly thinks of saying something to stop Kyle, but shoves the words down and instead turns on heel and leaves that bathroom just as the sound of flushing and Eddie yelling start. The thick bathroom door does a good job of muffling the noise and if Steve feels any guilt about that, he shoves that down, too.
Besides, Kyle's the captain of the basketball team and if Steve wants a chance to be on that team, he can't stay anything. It's a well-known fact that Steve likes sports, after all. He's going to stick to that. Screw Eddie Munson and his Dungeons and Dragons club.
Steve will get to play Dungeons and Dragons with Christopher next summer.
Except, halfway through the school year, Steve and his parents quickly board a plane bound for Washington. Turns out being as perfect as Christopher was is hard. Overwhelming.
They arrive the day before the funeral, and fly out right after it. Steve barely has time to mourn before they're shuffling him back to school that Monday.
Christopher died, and with him, so does Steve's desire to be just like him. He quits the football team. He keeps basketball because he does like it, even without Christopher's influence. He can't bring himself to get rid of the Dungeons and Dragons books, but he can't look at them, either. They end up in the downstairs hall closet, forgotten on the shelf.
So, years later, after rising to the top of the food chain (no one was ever going to embarrass him like Eddie Munson had again) and then falling to the bottom (who cares about high school popularity when interdimensional monsters exist) and of course, the years of fighting against said interdimensional monsters before ending it all in spring of '86, Steve finds himself, unwillingly, agreeing to host Hellfire since the school banned the club following the events of spring break.
Damn Dustin Henderson. Steve usually has the backbone to say no but Dustin had to play up 'getting a chance to finally just be kids' and fuck, how was Steve going to say no to that? Despite how quickly his own desire to be a freshman playing Dungeons and Dragon had been squashed, he can't be the one to ruin this for them.
"Thanks for hosting, man," Eddie says when Steve lets him in. He's an hour early but had asked if that was okay. Apparently the dungeon master has a lot of prep to do? Not that Steve would know.
"Sure," Steve says, dismissively, because while Eddie and he went through hell together, and Steve carried his sorry ass out of the Upside Down, Steve can't quite let his guard down around him.
It's funny. In the Upside Down, Eddie had made a point to tell him he's changed, is a 'good dude' now. So, what's funny is how much Eddie is exactly the same person he was five years ago. He was an ass to Steve five years ago, and as far as Steve is concerned, was also an ass to Lucas for wanting to play basketball just this year.
He swears to God, if he hears one negative thing about Lucas tonight, he's punching Eddie unconscious, no matter what the rest of Hellfire will do or say about it.
Eddie's been in his dining room for maybe five minutes before he finds Steve in the living room. Steve's got a movie playing but he couldn't tell you which one. He's not really watching it.
"Do you got a table cloth for that big table? Jeff's got a set of metal dice and I'd feel like a real ass if we scratched it on accident."
Steve takes a deep breath before answering. He hates that Eddie is considerate like this, has been since spring break if Steve's being honest, but he doesn't want to see Eddie's good qualities. So, he waves in the direction of the closet. "Yeah. There should be some in the hall closet there. Help yourself."
"Thanks."
He twists on the couch to watch Eddie cross the room to the closet door, listens as the door creaks opens, hears the quiet, pleased noise Eddie lets out when his eyes land on the stack of table clothes. Steve continues to watch as Eddie just grabs the whole stack and yanks them off the top shelf.
Which means his watching as the stack of non-fabric objects, which must have been half atop the table clothes, also tumble out of the closet, bouncing off various parts of Eddie. It's a bunch of miscellaneous items. However, Steve realizes with horror, the book that bounces off Eddie's head is his copy of the Monster Manual. Eddie has stepped back in surprise (and possibly pain), so the Dungeon Master Guide and the Players Handbook bounce off his torso and leg before landing on the ground.
"Fuck," Eddie curses, before he stares down at what just assaulted him. Steve just stares at Eddie, watching as he slowly comes to comprehend what he's seeing. He watches as Eddie bends down and grabs the Player Handbook, the last thing to fall, from a top the pile. "What the-"
Steve stands, suddenly defensive, but doesn't actually say anything or move closer. He just watches as Eddie examines the book, flipping it from front to back in his hand like the title will change if he does that enough times.
Then, Eddie turns to him, bewildered. "Present for one of the kids? Thought they all had their own copies."
"No."
Eddie flips the book open. Reads the words written in there so many years ago. "Who's Christopher? Wait. 1981? You were playing D&D in 1981?"
"None of your business, and no," Steve says, now kicking into action, stomping up to Eddie and snatching the book from his hands.
Eddie hold his hands up in defense before his eyes turn mischievous. The same glint in them now that was there when Eddie'd leaned into this space in the RV and called him big boy. "Are you lying to me, Stevie? You've played before, haven't you?"
It makes Steve's blood boil. "No. I haven't played!"
"Alright. You could now, you know," Eddie says. And it's the way he says it, all nonchalant and like he's trying to be coy about it- it tips something over inside Steve. A bottle that held his humiliation and hurt from all those years ago.
"Oh, now I'm good enough for D&D? Now I can join? Aren't I too much of a jock for you!?"
"Whoa, what's with the hostility-"
"What's eight plus seven, Eddie!?" Steve snaps. His memory might be shit these days, with all the concussions, but the unfortunate part about Steve is that he always seems to remember the bad. And he remembers Freshman First Day like yesterday. "No? How about seventeen plus six? Come on, mental math isn't hard. Or don't you remember? I'm just a stupid jock too slow on the uptake, or no, what was it you said? It'll be a nightmare to play with me, 'cause I might be barely able to read the rules?"
He watches as Eddie's face morphs from confusion, to understanding and horror. "Holy shit, Steve. That was you- you wanted to join Hellfire-"
"Yeah, and you made it pretty fuckin' clear I didn't belong in it."
"I'm sorry man. I shouldn't have- if I'd known you, I never would have-"
"That's the problem, Eddie!" Steve shouts, waving the book in front of him. "You didn't know me. You looked at me and decided for me that I was going to be a jock and nothing else and then humiliated me in front of other people! You didn't even bother to try to know me. I spent three weeks reading this stupid book cover to cover because I knew I was shit at reading and I still wanted to try anyway."
He sees Eddie puffing up in anger. "Well, I wasn't exactly wrong, was I? You were a jock, a bully even!"
"Yeah, because I was a dumb, hurt kid who decided that it was better to hurt than be hurt. As if you weren't exactly the same that day, lashing out at me first, at my reading ability, and mocking me for not being quick at math. Fuck you, Munson!" Steve walks away, not hearing anything Eddie shouts after him as he sprints up the stairs and shuts himself in his room.
Steve knows he was a dick in high school, and it's not Eddie's fault he was a dick. Steve made choices he's not proud of and no one forced those choice on him. But Eddie doesn't get to throw that back in his face. Not when Eddie made him feel humiliated and stupid on the first goddamn day of high school, long before Steve became mean himself.
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shu-porang-porang · 3 months
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Love Me Until I Love Myself
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♡♡♡ Minho wants to make sure you know he loves you ♡♡♡
Pairs: Lee Minho (Lee Know) / fem!reader
Rating: Explicit
Theme: Angst, Fluff, Smut, 18+ NO MINORS.
Warnings: oral (female receiving), fingering, nipple play, unprotected sex (do not try at home!), reader is insecure and doesn't like herself
Word count: 3 k
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You and your boyfriend are on the ride back home from an awards show after party. It was exhausting. You used to think they must be fun, getting to chat and party with celebrities, but nope. You’re not built for this. You wonder how he could do it, especially after performing those taxing choreos. You could never. All night he was so bubbly and cheerful, while you tried to hide in shadows and attract as little attention as possible. Well, it’s not like people cared about you anyway, you were an outsider, a peasant who was offered a chance at a royal ball.
Halfway through it you questioned why you even accepted to participate, and then right away, you remembered why. Another girl approached him, congratulating him on their win and talking about memories you weren’t a part of, laughing at inside jokes you couldn’t understand. Of course, he would be comfortable with these girls, they’re coworkers after all! He’s known some of them for ages, way before you guys met, and of course you had no right to tell him to stay away from them or anything. The best you could do was to stick around, so the girls were aware of you as his girlfriend, or he knew you were there, lest he decided to do something naughty with one of them...
You know you’re being unreasonable; you know he’s loyal, and they’re just friends, some of them are even like his little sisters, but you can’t get these thoughts out of your head. Your insecurities won’t let you. After all, those girls are famous idols, loved by millions, always so dolled up and pretty, acting cute and shit. You think it’s just a matter of time before Minho realizes the timid plain you ain’t good enough for a star like him. Although he always fondly smiles at your dorky made up dance moves, you think some performer who could actually dance and shared his passion for dancing would be more appealing to him. You feel you lack a lot, and you can’t justify why someone like him would be interested in someone like you.
You feel pathetic. You let out a sigh subconsciously and Minho gently puts a hand on your thigh, asking if you’re ok. You reply with a nod and a weak smile. You’re afraid if you try to talk, tears may spill. His hand remains on your thigh, so you hold it to calm yourself down. His soft hand that you love so much. You love everything about him, you’re crazy about him. You wish you didn’t love him so much, then he couldn’t one day break your heart. You wish you were another person, well, you wished that almost your entire life until you met him. Having him, convinced you that you were alright, the person who you were and hated for so long, was the same person who got you to him, so it was alright. But here you are again, doubting yourself. You think you’re just broken and can never be fully fixed. So maybe it wouldn’t be fair to expect him to stick with you…
You arrive at Minho’s place. You moved in with him a few months back, so it’s technically your place too, but you don’t dare to indulge yourself in that idea, you think you don’t deserve it, you’ll lose it soon, so better to not get attached, but it’s already too late.
Home, at last. As soon as you enter, you are greeted by the cats. Minho picks one up cooing at it. You walk past by him into the bedroom. You just wanna rid yourself of the party attire and go to sleep, right now the only thing that could stop your train of horrible thoughts is sleep.
Minho joins you soon after, walks towards you and wraps his arms around you from behind as you’re taking your jewelry off in front of the mirror. He nuzzles his nose against your neck, inhaling your scent.
“Hey let go, I’m tired. Just wanna get out of this dress and go to bed.”
“But I want you to stay in this dress a bit longer. You looked so pretty tonight, babe” he leaves kisses on your exposed shoulder that make your breath hitch in your throat. But you’re still upset about the bleak night you had.
“Oh, is that why you spent the whole time talking to other girls while I was sitting right there?” Your bottled up emotions force you to blurt out.
He lifts his head up, looking you in the eyes through the mirror. His expression is baffled, he’s trying to figure out what he did wrong.
“What are you talking about? I thought we had a nice time there!”
“Well, you obviously had, giggling with them all night.”
You try to break free from his arms but he won’t budge.
“Hey! You’re not going anywhere until you tell me what’s exactly wrong.”
You try to form sentences that would explain why you’re feeling like this, but you feel stupid for bringing it up in the first place. You break into tears as you’re tired and helpless and don’t even know how to make sense of your feelings. Silent tears start streaming down your cheeks, you’re never one to sob loudly. Worries written all over his face.
“Baby tell me. What did I do? Did someone say something to you?”
You shake your head “no”. He lifts you up and carries you to bed, sitting you on his lap. You show no resistance, your hands are balled up on your lap and your head is down, trying to cover your crying face with the lose strands of your hair, which he tucks behind your ear immediately. His thumb is caressing your tear-stricken cheek. His other hand is soothingly massaging your thigh.
“It’s okay baby, you can talk to me. Please. It really hurts me to see you like this and not be able to do anything about it. Tell me what’s wrong sweetie. We’re gonna fix it together.”
You don’t wanna hurt him. Hurting him is the last thing you would do. So, you try to fight the tears and speak.
“I… seeing you tonight… the girls all pretty and talented… the things you have in common… how close you are… I wonder… how long… till you realize……….”
“Till I realize what baby?”
“I’m not… good enough” your voice is shaky, again on the verge of tears.
He’s in disbelief. His mouth slightly agape in shock. His grip on your waist tightens.
“Why would you even think that?” he says as if asking himself, not really waiting for a response from you.
His brows are furrowed. He’s thinking to himself.
“I get it now. You were sitting right there, and I kept talking to other people as if you weren’t. But I just thought you weren’t taking part in conversations coz you didn’t want to be bothered… but you actually felt excluded from them. Is that right?”
“Almost. That alone wasn’t a problem, but it made me think you deserve to be with someone who’s more like them and less like me…”
“Woah! Where did you get that from?”
“You’re too good for me… it can’t be right. I’m afraid you’re wasting your time with me…”
“Hey! You don’t get to decide that for me! Do you think I couldn’t have any of those girls if I wanted? The thing is, I don’t want them, I want you.”
“Why do you even love me? Even I can’t love myself…”
“Where should I begin? I love everything about you, and I make that my first priority from now on, to make you see all the things I love in you, and to make you love them too.” He finishes his sentence with a soft kiss on your collarbone.
He plants a few more kisses on the expanse of your chest before pulling back and looking into your glossy eyes. You give him a thankful smile as your hands reach for his nape and pull him in for a kiss. His lips feel like heaven against yours, soft and plump. The kiss starts with languid movements of your mouths. Neither of you are in a hurry, you both need to savor this moment. He drags his tongue on your bottom lip and you let it in. As your tongues are dancing, the temperature rises. His hand that was on your waist, travels up to grope at your clothed breast, the other hand is tangled in your hair, keeping your head in place for him to abuse your lips.
He lays you on your back on the bed, momentarily disconnecting your lips which makes you whimper in loss. It encourages him to get back to kissing with even more fervor. His hands are pulling the straps of your dress down, trying to gain access to your breasts. He trails kisses down your jaw and across the column of your neck, to your shoulders and collarbone. They alternate between feather like pecks to purplish hickeys. He can’t decide what he wants. He wants it all, he wants all of you, he can’t get enough.
He stops to admire his work of art. A hand cups your cheek gently which you lean into, closing your eyes.
“You’re so perfect baby,” He plants a kiss to your forehead. “Even in my wildest imaginations I couldn’t picture someone this pretty,” Another kiss to your nose. “Inside and out.”
You open your eyes to see his lovingly stare back. You pull him in for another taste of his lips.
“So, do you still wanna get rid of this dress?”
“I do, if you want to.”
“As gorgeous as you look, I can’t wait to see what’s underneath.”
He takes it off and your left in nothing but your black lace panties. You tug at his dress shirt, signaling him to take it off too, which he complies, followed by the unbuckling of his belt and his pants follow suit.
“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, I want you to never forget that.” He says as he hovers over you once again. You open your arms to invite him into your hug. He lowers his body onto yours, slightly circling his hips against your crotch. You feel him twitch in his boxers.
“We don’t have to do it if you’re not in the mood, you know.” He says searching your eyes.
“I want it baby, I need you, I really do.” You say as your hands are mapping his toned chest.
With a little smirk on his lips, he goes back to business. He kisses your chest, right above your racing heart, then latches his mouth to your left nipple. He sucks and bites at it till its raw, while trying to give the same amount of attention to the right one between his fingers. You squirm beneath him as your nipples get too sensitive and can’t handle more. He gets the cue and snaps out of his uncontrollable desire to ruin them. Instead, he gives them both kitten licks and pecks in turn, to compensate for the rough treatment they just received.
Moving down your naval, he’s all soft and sweet with butterfly kisses, loving pecks and whispering sweet nothings in between. He’s slotted between your thighs as he reaches your core. Eyes darting up to ask for your permission one last time before he’s completely unstoppable. You give him a nod and he places a kiss to your clothed mound. He teases by nudging his nose to your clit and licking a stripe from your hole to it. Tasting the arousal leaking through the fabric, he lets out a satisfied hum that sends shivers up your spine. You’re growing impatient but he’s taking his sweet time with peppering your inner thighs with kisses and hickeys. You feel more of your juices flowing out and you buck your hips up.
“Stay still princess. Let me take care of you, hm?”
“Minho… please…” You whine. You trust him that he’ll take good care of you, but you can’t wait anymore.
He finally gets rid of your panties and the cool air hits your pussy, followed by warm puffs of his breath.
“So pretty… all mine” He says before diving down and starting to make out with your pussy lips. The lewd noises that fill the room make you forget why you were even upset earlier. The only thing you don’t like about this moment is how little pressure he’s putting on your clit, enough to keep your juices flowing, but not enough to make them gush out all at once. You’re a moaning mess, your fingers pulling at his roots, trying to keep his face close to your core. He’s finally sucking at your clit, suddenly the pleasure gets overwhelming as he inserts two fingers inside you. You feel the knot in your stomach tightening to a snap. A few more strokes of his tongue and your coming undone. Your thighs shake around his head, one of his hands comes up to fondle your breast, his mouth still attached to your core, drinking the elixir of life straight from the fountain. He waits for you to ride your orgasm before he crawls back on top and gives you a taste of yourself. His mouth and chin are glistening with your juices. What a sight to see! You feel extremely lucky to be the one who caused this scene.
“That was …amazing… Thank you” you say while trying to find the normal rhythm of your breath.
“I told you I know how to take care of my girl.”
“Now it’s your turn.” You push him on his back and now you’re on top.
First thing you do is taking his boxers off and finally freeing his aching cock. You wonder how he managed to focus on pleasuring you while he was this hard. The sight alone makes you all turned on again. You thought you’d need more time to build a second orgasm, but you’re already throbbing.
Now it’s your turn to mark him, to shower him with kisses, to try and pour as much love as possible onto your every touch. Starting from the sensitive spot on his neck, you know you can’t mark him here, still you suck it a bit harsher than you should. You leave open-mouthed kisses all over his chest and where it is safe, give him a few hickeys too. You lovingly kiss the scar on his abdomen, the fact that it’s another thing that only a few have seen and you’re one of those few, is really endearing to you.
His member is twitching between your bodies. You slide your wet pussy on it, earning a groan from him. You decide he deserves a quicker release, so you stop grinding to hold it and align it with your entrance but he stops you.
“Wait baby. Let me do it.” He says as he’s stopping your hips from moving.
You’re confused but you go with it. He gets on top again.
“Tonight is about showing my baby how much I love her.” He says with a fond smile.
“I wanna make sure everything feels good for you.” He puts a pillow under your hips to gain a better angle. He inserts the two fingers from before in your pussy, checking how wet you are and scissoring them to loosen the muscles.
“Minnie I’m fine… it’s not my first time…” you try to say in between gasps as his fingers alone are doing wonders inside of you.
“Oh but it is sweetheart. I’m gonna love you all over again.” He inserts a third finger.
“Gonna make sure to give you all the love you deserve.”
He clashes his lips to yours as he replaces his fingers with the tip of his cock. The stretch is pleasant, you want more of it. You moan in his mouth as he slowly inches inside you until he finally bottoms out. He stays still, your warmth engulfing him, turns his brains to mush.
He whispers in your ear: “I love you so much”
He starts moving as he nibs at your earlobe, giving you words of praise now and then. Your arms wrap impossibly tight around his shoulders, leaving no space between your chests.
He slowly picks up his pace. Your nails are digging to his biceps now. Beautiful moans fill the room. His lips won’t leave your skin for more than 3 seconds. He pats down your left arm till he reaches your hand and your fingers intertwine as if they have brains of their own. He pins it above your head and his other hand is beside your head, supporting his weight as his movements get faster and less precise.
“ ’m close…” you manage to let out.
“Go ahead… I’m right… behind you”
A few more thrusts and you’re second orgasm hits you as your head falls back and your eyes screw shut, his name like a prayer on your lips. You’ve made a habit out of saying his name every time you came or it wouldn’t feel right.
As your walls convulse around him, he can’t hold it back anymore. Ropes of white hot liquid paint your walls. He collapses on top of you. He tries to pull out but you stop him.
“Wanna stay connected to you a bit more…” You wish you could merge with him into one person, but having him inside a bit longer, would do too.
His head finds its place in the crook of your neck. One of your hands is in his hair and the other is resting on his back. You whisper a “I love you” to his hair and kiss the top of his head and he lets out a sigh. You don’t want this moment to end. If he can love you this much, maybe you should give it a try too.
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peachypinkygloss · 8 months
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fanatic love — pjm
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When Jimin knew about your crush on him, you didn't expect him to invite you to his apartment and to get rid of your clothes once there, but you surely don't mind at all.
ꨄ︎ pairing: popular!jimin x inexperienced/fem!reader
ꨄ︎ genre: college au, friends to lovers, smut
ꨄ︎ word count: 4k
ꨄ︎ warnings: she's DOWN BAD, but jimin likes how in love she is with him, dom jimin/sub reader, praising & degradation, a bit of dumbification, unprotected sex, masturbation (f & m), brief anal play, lots of cum (as always), overstimulation, multiple orgasms.
a.n.: you ask and you shall receive 🫶🏻 call me!jk's next on the list :)
When Jimin discovered you had a big fat crush on him, it's not what you thought would happen.
You're not good at keeping secrets, even your own, so your friends knew all about your silly crush on Park Jimin — the godly handsome popular boy from your college.
You've never really talked to him, but it doesn't take you a lot to fall in love. To be frank, the only thing you share with him is a friend group and even then you've never had the chance to exchange more than three words with him.
Well, all of this has changed now. Never in a million years you'd have thought you'd step foot into his apartment, not even his bedroom, and surely not to have that type of conversation with him — if you can call it a conversation anyway.
But here you are, backing away as he steps forward, looking intensely into your eyes. He has such a serious expression on his face and you don't understand why he does, the only thing you know is that it's making your panties wet. Really wet.
"You'd do everything I ask, right?" His voice is soft, but also stern, making you swallow as stress rises up in your body; heart beating faster, hands slightly trembling, sweat forming on your forehead.
His simple presence makes you anxious, wishing you'll do nothing stupid that could make him lose interest in you. Don't disappoint him.
"Yes," you murmur, your stare fixated on him and your back eventually hitting the wall behind you. You don't want to run away from him — never would you — but you're not used to all of this.
Anything he asks, you'll do. Whatever it is; a crush, love, obsession, it doesn't matter because all you want to do is please him, to be the one who'll make his day better, to be the one he'll think about just before going to sleep.
He already does those things for you, so why not do them for him, too.
"Good girl," he praises and your face immediately heats up. Hearing that from him makes you happy and you want to continue being good for him.
Up close to him like that you can see how beautiful he truly is, reminding you just how much you love him, how hard your heart beats for him.
His dark brown eyes are disconcertingly soft and his lips are round, big — looking so pillowy, so inviting. You don't feel indifferent under his gaze, that's what you like the most about it; how unique you are when he looks at you because you have to be if you catch Park Jimin's attention.
It's so hard to be that close to him and not having the permission to touch him. You'd love to feel the smoothness of his skin or have your fingers run through his thick, shiny blond hair. You like the contrast between his dark eyebrows and the bleached colour of his hair, it makes them stand out more.
"Come here, sweet thing," he tells you in a raspy voice, his tone low and making you shiver in desire. You take one step and your breaths are already mingling together, your head tilted up to look at him. "Let's get those clothes off, hm? Isn't that a good idea?"
You eagerly nod your head at him, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as his hands come to grip your white blouse. He expertly pops out the buttons one by one, your eyes following his movements closely, his touch making you feel hotter and hotter.
His fingers are adorned in many chunky silver rings, his nails are cut short and a small tattoo is hiding on the side of his index finger of his left hand. Veins are apparent on his hands going all down to his forearms, making them look so sinful and strong — the epitome of lust itself.
He opens the button that shows your breasts supported by your bra, the contact of his skin against yours making your heart skip a beat. "Your hands are so cold," you whisper to him, shyly glancing up at his face.
He doesn't look back at you, his attention being fully on unbuttoning the piece of clothing, but he answers two simple words; "I know."
Your eyes go back down to his fingers, seeing that he only has one button left and he doesn't hesitate to pop it out. He slides the material off your shoulders, throwing it away on the floor of his bedroom.
You're left in your skirt, and even though you feel very vulnerable right now with your chest out, you're impatient for him to discover the lower half of your body, too. So far, you aren't disappointing him, which feels good.
He unzips your skirt and tugs it down, falling down at your feet. You shrug it away, Jimin admiring your half nude body with his beautiful almond-eyes.
"Look at how pretty you are," he compliments. "And all for me."
You sheepishly smile when hearing these words, turned on he's addressing you as his, as if everything you do and think is about him. And he'd be right about that.
His hands hovers just over your hips, his fingertips tracing the shape of your curves, going up and down so slowly, making goosebumps appear on your skin.
Your chest heaves rapidly and the temperature of the room starts to get higher, leaving you breathless and flustered. This moment is very intimate and him being able to see what kind of underwear you wear is so, so personal.
Underclothes are like a secret you only reveal to the people you trust the most and this status doesn't go to anyone, it applies to a very selective handful of people. And in some cases, to only one person.
Jimin being this person is just unbelievable, and there's nobody else you'd let see you like that. Nobody, only him.
His hands sneak behind you to reach the clip of your bra and he swiftly unhooks it. Your eyes are on him, scared to look away for a second, as the garment falls on the ground. Your nipples harden from the cold air hitting them, Jimin's stare on them.
He licks his lips and gently cups your breasts, cutting your breath short. "How cute are they, mh?" He asks in a honeyed voice, melting your heart, taking your sanity away bit by bit.
He pinches your buds between his fingers, making them even harder, slowly circling them. You softly whine, feeling your stomach twist from the sensations he procures to you by playing with your nipples. They point at him, perky and erected, and he smirks, enjoying how they seem to really like him.
His hands descend along your stomach, your muscles twitching under his cold fingertips, teasing the band of your panties. It's when his eyes shift up to your face, maybe asking for permission or just to check up on you, that your heart jumps in your chest.
He passes his digit over the bow sewn on your underwear then teasingly going under the material, threatening to remove it. "Do you mind?" His question comes out low and breathy, his hands starting to get impatient.
"No..." You're quick to respond, shaking your head from side to side. It's all he needs before he tugs on your panties, sliding them down your legs.
You're now completely bared in front of him, his lustful eyes roaming over your body, making you feel really small under his gaze. His hand comes really close to your heat, but he only brushes his fingers against your pussy, tricking you into thinking he's going to touch you down there.
"Sweet girl, go sit on the bed for me, m'kay?" he softly demands, laying his palm on your naked hip. "Can you do that?"
You nod your head and he steps aside to let you walk to his bed placed in the corner of his room. He watches you crawl to one end of the mattress, turning around to sit on your butt.
It's not long until he joins you, a little grin gracing his plump pink lips. As he walks up to you, he gets rid of his t-shirt, revealing to you his 'nevermind' tattoo drawn on his rib cage that you'd only ever heard rumours about. Now you know it really exists and you find it absolutely stunning on him, making him look much sexier.
He removes his jeans too, but you're taken aback when he drags his boxers with them as well. His cock springs free and you can't ignore the heat you feel between your legs — it's burning.
You can't help but stare at it with rounded eyes. He's fully erected and just the fact that you're the cause of it, makes you so aroused. He's average, but girthy and curved and really ... agitated.
It twitches before you and you look at it with so much admiration — his cock is so pretty, you didn't think you'd have been so turned on by just seeing one.
But it's Jimin after all. Everything about him is perfect, pretty and hot.
He takes the other end of the bed, leaning his back against the wall. You start moving to come to him, but he stops you. "No, you stay right there, sweetheart."
"Why?" You pout, offended. You want to touch him, that's literally the only thing you want, you think. How can you not when his erection looks so hard and painful, leaking so much pre-cum just inches away from you?
"'Cause I'm gonna watch you," he explains softly, wrapping his palm around his pulsating cock. "And you're gonna watch me, sweet girl."
Oh.
He passes his left hand through his hair, getting the blond strands away from his almond shaped eyes, a watch crowning his wrist. Jimin really loves jewelry and you love it on him.
He gets comfortable, parting his legs a bit wider. You swear you have the most sinful scenery happening in front of your eyes and god, it makes your clit throb so hard.
"Don't be shy, baby," he smiles, eyes glinting, playful or maybe mischievous... "Show me your little pussy," he says and you can't deny him.
So you open your legs a bit hesitant, but you still do it. You lean against the other wall, keeping your knees bent and positioning two fingers beside your drenched cunt.
Jimin grins at the sight, lips parted as his eyes are strained down on your pussy, so much arousal leaking from it. "You're literally soaking wet. Didn't know you loved me that much," he teases and your face heats up again from embarrassment. He was never supposed to find out, but you surely won't complain right now.
"I've just... wanted this for so long," you confess in a quiet voice, slowly rubbing your pussy lips to get in the mood, carefully avoiding your clit.
He squeezes his cock, his eyes closely following your fingers, biting down on his plump bottom lip. "You should've told me, this would've happened much sooner..." He whispers back, making you fantasize about everything that could have happened if only you had the courage.
You run your hand over your tummy going up to your chest, brushing over your hard nipples. You love the small friction it creates, still a bit too shy to do more than roll the sensitive buds under your palm.
Jimin loves it, too. He grips his cock, tugging at it slightly, mimicking the same pace as you; slow and steady.
You whimper when you place a digit on your throbbing clit, beginning to draw tight circles on it. He looks at your pussy intently, his breath quickening each time your legs tremble from the pleasure or when you open your legs wider, desperate to feel more than just your small fingers.
When he stares at you, it's like he wants to get something from you — probably sexual, naively hoping it's more — and his gaze makes you shudder, ready to kneel before him, to give him everything he needs.
Oh, you definitely feel like the luckiest girl in the world right now. He chose you, not some other girl, you. You have to be special.
He fucks his fist as you toy with your bud of nerves, head rolling back and hitting the wall behind, hooded eyes focused on his hand running up and down his hard cock. You moan sweetly and he grunts at the melodic sounds, tightening his grip around his length.
He looks so good and it literally turns you crazy how far he is from you, and yet, you're both masturbating on the same bed. You grope one of your tit, palming it and kneading it in your hand, pussy clenching at the sight of Jimin stroking his wet cock.
"Please, Jimin," you whine desperately, clearly showing how needy and eager you are for him. "Let me touch you, or whatever you want, but please-"
He frowns, shaking his head, cutting you off. "No, you heard me, sweet thing," he begins, voice breathy. "Be a good girl and keep playing with your little pussy, mh?" He asks and his answer doesn't please you, but you have to behave.
You sigh, but you nod your head in agreement nonetheless. It's such a shame, you know for a fact that his cock would slip right away in your hole at how wet it is for him. He would stretch you out so well, you just want to feel him against your walls. Is it too much to ask?
So you do what you're told to, rubbing your clit in quick circles and pulling on your nipples, stimulating them with your palm. You arch your back and moan obscenely, bringing yourself close to the edge.
"Yeah, sweetheart. That's it, fuck," he groans, throwing his head back. His lips are parted, letting out heavy breaths and deep moans as he watches you pleasuring yourself. "Good girl, such a good girl for me," he praises, the words coming out a bit mindlessly, drunk on the way you rub your clit avidly and how your wetness drips down to your ass, skin glistening under the light of his bedroom.
He tugs on his cock, the skin of his penis moving up and down as he fucks his hand. You feel it building up at the pit of your stomach too quickly, and you suddenly stop, not wanting to cum too soon.
As you stop, you grope your boobs again instead, waiting a little before starting back up with your swollen clit. Jimin hisses, halting his movement, too, covering the slit of his tip with his thumb.
"Are you edging yourself, baby?" He chuckles, rubbing his digit over his slit, spreading his pre-cum around his dark pink head.
"Mh-hm," you nod your head, passing your fingers over your pussy lips. "Wanna cum with you," you say in a pouty voice, letting out a quiet whimper as you pinch on your sensitive nipples.
"Aw, what a cute girl," he coos, a smirk forming on his lips. "You will, now just keep going, okay?" He instructs and you execute yourself, resuming the tight circles you were drawing on your clit.
"Okay," you breathe out.
Yes, you want to orgasm at the same time as him, but you also don't want this to end. It's like one of your wet dreams came to life and you want it to last as long as possible, enjoy every second of it.
You could edge yourself for hours, you don't care. You could stop every time you feel it coming, moving your fingers away from your puffy clit, feeling it pulsating so hard like you actually have a heartbeat there.
But every dream must come to an end. You have to eventually wake up from it, even though you wish you would never.
Jimin gets his hair away from his face again, little strands sticking to his forehead. His chest and shoulders are coated in a thin layer of sweat, like you know your back is as well. Damp and hot, that's how your skin feels like.
You dip two fingers in your pussy slightly just to bring some of your arousal up to your clit, making the circles smoother and kind of sticky.
He wets his dried lips with his pink tongue, grunting as he accelerates the pace of his palm around his engorged cock. He drags the loose skin of his dick up and down with every thrust, the muscles of his abs flexing as he controls himself, following attentively your fingers moving in circles over your poor, swollen clit.
"Ah, Jimin," you moan out, knitting your eyebrows together while you work hard on your bud, bringing yourself back over the edge. You're so desperate at this point, you just want to see him ejaculate and make a mess on himself, knowing it's all because of you.
"Come on, sweetheart. You've been so good," he tells you with his low, raspy voice, always honeyed and pleasant to the ear. "Cum with me," he insists and you want it so bad.
"Yes, please, please," you beg, as if he hadn't already given you the permission to, but it comes out instinctively. "Oh, my god-!" You cry out, rubbing fast circles on your clit until your body jerks forward, hips bucking against your hand.
Jimin grits his teeth, sucking air through them as he gives quick, short strokes to his thick cock. Seeing you cumming in front of his eyes riles him up, toes curling as he breathes heavily, plushy lips parted.
"Yes, yes," you sigh, toying with your clit to ride out your high, eyes fixated on Jimin's hand going up and down his length really fast.
"Aah, fuck," he curses under his breath, the knot at the pit of his stomach finally ripping off. His cock jerks in his hand, spurting out long, thick ropes of white cum, landing on his tummy.
His hand slows down, doing long and steady strokes to get everything out. He squeezes his grip and little white beads spill out from his sticky tip, dribbling down over Jimin's hand.
You swallow as you watch the whole scene, his cum slowly dripping down over his abs, falling onto his dark pubic hair. You tell yourself that this isn't enough, that you want — need more. More sex, more of Jimin.
You then totally act on your impulses, getting up on your knees and straddling Jimin's lap. He keeps his mouth agape, eyebrows frowned as he looks at you gripping his cock and aligning it with your entrance.
His hands hover over your hips, clenching into fists when you sink down on him. "Shit," he chokes on his word, watching his cock covered in his cum disappearing into your wet pussy. "Fuck, sweet thing, don't- oh, god."
The overstimulation is painful, but you both love it.
He lifts up his head and your eyes connect, your arms wrapped around his strong shoulders. His pupils are dilated and he looks so good like this; sweaty, breathless and out of his mind.
You immediately start jumping on his cock, honestly not really knowing what you're doing, but it feels incredible, so you continue. Jimin lets you use him, his head rolling back, holding onto your hips.
His fingers have heated up, now warm, only the silver of his rings being cold against your burning skin. You bounce on his dick with so much energy you even surprise yourself, but Jimin's whiny moans encourage you to keep going, wanting to feel his hot cum deep into you badly.
"Jumping on my cock like a little slut..." He groans, guiding your hips on his lap, doing fast grind motions. "You're no sweet girl," he says, one hand running down to the small of your back, sneaking down to your ass. "You're a fucking whore," Jimin rasps out, dipping the tip of his middle finger in your tight hole.
You gasp, but keep riding him like your life depends on it. You just want to cum around him, though, and you'll do it because damn it, you deserve it. Jimin might be right; you must be a slut, but god, does it feel good to be one. Especially when Jimin's your client — hypothetically.
"Only... only for you," you manage to respond, mouth open to let out your lewd moans. He keeps teasing your ass, slightly stretching it out with his thumb now. You're ashamed to admit it, but feeling him filling up your other hole turns you totally hysteric.
"Hm? What did you say, baby?" Jimin wonders, looking at you with hooded eyes, lust dancing in them.
"I'm a slut," you reply in a whiny voice. "But only for you," you state and it makes Jimin chuckles, a lopsided smile plastered on his face. You're so down bad for him, he likes it — feeds off of it.
"That's right," he approves, collecting some of your arousal on his digit. "Only for me, sweetheart. Just for me," he repeats while circling your rim with the pad of his finger covered in your wetness.
You moan in response, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. He then smacks your ass, groping the bouncing flesh after, his cool rings brushing against your skin.
You grind on him, your hips going so fast Jimin has difficulty following up, your tits squished against his sweaty chest. His cock feels so good against your walls, your pussy clenching around him several times as you can't keep in your moans.
"I love it," you admit, not knowing how to keep your tongue in your mouth as your brain is all mushy right now. "Love your big cock, Jimin," you say drunkly, your mouth beside his ear.
"Yeah? Like my cock in your tight little pussy?" He asks, pulling you away from his neck, making you face him by having a grip on your hair.
"Yes, love it so much," you cry, sinking your nails into the skin of his back, leaving small crescent forms.
"Then I'mma fucking give it to you, baby."
You moan out loudly when Jimin thrusts up into you, his feet sinked into the mattress as he fucks you hard and deep. Your ass bounces as he snaps his hips against yours, balls slapping your wet pussy. You cry on top of him, his cock sliding up so easily as you're dripping wet, on the verge of your orgasm.
His head hits your sweet spot so deliciously, making you see stars. "Oh, gosh, I'm gonna cum," you hurriedly warn him, boobs also jiggling at the intensity of Jimin's thrusts.
"Fuck, me too, sweetheart," he breathes out shakily, gripping your hips tightly, fingers digging into your damp skin.
You lay your hands on his shoulders, arching your back as his thick cock keeps brushing over your sensitive spot inside of you. You soon cum around him, pussy clenching around him repeatedly and thighs shaking beside his body.
Your walls closing tightly around him is his last stroke and his hips steady. His cock twitches and he releases himself deep into your cunt, shooting long strings of cum against your walls.
You lazily grind on him, driving off both of your highs, limbs trembling.
You look down where your bodies connect and you see his cum has fallen down all over yourselves at how much there was. Your inner thighs are covered as well as his pelvis and balls.
You slowly lift up your hips and his cock slips out of you, slapping down on his stomach. You're both trying to catch your breaths, looking into each other's eyes, perhaps thinking about the right thing to say.
You drop yourself beside him on the bed and he passes his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into a warm and soft embrace. He kisses the top of your head and you smile, placing your palm down on his chest.
"Was really good, but we need to clean ourselves." Jimin says, getting out of bed. You get a glimpse of the big tattoo on his back; the cycle of the moon and the two other drawings above his elbows before he turns around. "Coming with me?" He proposes.
You nod your head, biting down on your lip to refrain a smile. "Yeah."
.
.
.
a.n.: hope it was good?!!?!? 🥺 idk came straight from my fantasy so... but anyway just wanna say i start uni in like a week so if call me doesn't come as soon, it's normal (if it comes soon y'all need to scold me because my stupid lazy brain has to study). i hate school, but hey, maybe... enemies to lovers?! that'd be cool
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lostalioth · 7 months
Text
𝐛𝐢𝐠 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬
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→ premise: you were just so pretty and so much smaller than your boys how could they not love it? though they’ve seemed to take notice of just how much you love it
→ pairing: steve rogers x fem!reader x bucky barnes
→ warnings: smut | 18+, size kink [reader is described as smaller/weaker in the sense of them being super soliders and stronger more muscles etc.][im also not that good at writing size kink so just squint a bit], body worship, dumbification, nicknames [little one, dumb baby, baby], oral [f receiving], creampie [only 1 i was gonna have them both do it but]
→ a/n: 01 kinktober
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It was very hard for your boys to keep their hands to themselves around you, they were both very possessive after all but they knew you loved it. They noticed the way your thighs clenched when they stood tall behind you, presence big and looming as their large hands both snake around each side of your waist. Their stares and presence are enough to make the guy talking to you back off. They hear the small lustful gasp that leaves your lips when one of them manhandles you picking you up to place you out of their way. They were more in tune and hyper aware of every motion and sound you made than you'd like sometimes. They could catch on to things you like before even you could. Such as that you really really enjoyed just how much bigger and stronger they were than you.
It had been a couple days of a long mission where the three of you simply didn't have the time or space for many intimate moments, that was until you finally got back home. You're in the middle of a conversation with Sam before suddenly you're swept off your feet by Steve.
With a short startled scream you're thrown over one of his broad shoulders. “Hey i was in the middle of a conversation, you know” you whine and ignore the ache that begins to settle in your core at the action. You smack Steve's muscular back in an attempt of telling him to let you go, with the one hand that was holding your waist still he lets go quickly to smack your ass. You squeal and shut your mouth fast as arousal replaces all confusion and frustration. Steve's other hand that's gripping the back of your thigh squeezes a bit harder around the plush skin. You watch Bucky not far behind you two as Steve carries you to our shared bedroom. A small but seductive and taunting grin plastered across the brunette's face. He watches with amusement as your eyes glaze over, practically seeing you begin to sink into sub space already.
“Wish you could see her face rn, shes turning into our dumb little baby already thinking of all the things we’ll do to her” Bucky's deep voice breaks you for your train of thought before you sink right back away and the rest is a blur until your sat on your large soft king size bed, ass nestled into steves lap and your facing bucky whos sat in front of you.
“We missed your body little one” Steve whispers, coming out desperate and soft, breath hot the back of your neck as Bucky tucks a piece of hair behind your ear and resting his big calloused hand on your face. “Your perfect little body is all we ever need baby” Bucks voice is a stark difference to the blondes as his comes out husky and deep. You gasp as bucky's cold metal fingers find their way under your shirt inching towards your bare chest.
You couldn't be bothered to put a bra on for the long and uncomfortable trip home and you've never been more grateful for one of your decisions til this moment. His thumb brushes across your already hardening nipple at the same time that Steve begins leaving sloppy kisses on the back of your neck making his way to that sweet spot behind your ear. Your breath hitches in your throat as you squeeze your thighs together but steves warm hand slides between them spreading them apart. You whimper softly at the strength.
“We wanna worship that pussy baby don't hide it little one” Steve mumbles against your neck as he starts to unbutton your pants with one hand and push them down with your panties.
The boys move fast to discard the rest of your clothes as well as their own and their lips are back all over your body, kissing, marking, licking every inch of skin that they can.
You're now propped up against the headboard, a pillow behind your back and one under your hips. Bucky has one leg pinned and Steve has the other so your legs are spread, throbbing cunt on full display for them. Their strength while forcing your legs open causes your arousal to leak down your pussy and ass soaking the pillow under you as you squirm a bit in impatience.
“Look at our pretty little dumb baby Buck so needy, you want our mouths baby?” Steve asks in a soft yet taunting voice that has your head going hazy again. You nod yes eagerly and whine as the blonde and brunette hovered their mouths over where you needed them most. A small chuckle leaves Bucky's lips before he is quick to slide two of his thick warm fingers through your slick, spreading it over your puffy folds. The small gasp leaving your parted lips turning into a louder one the second his fingers slip inside you and are fast to find that spot only your boys could. Steve, not far behind Bucky in action, leans closer and starts to slowly flick your clit with his tongue, teasing you by slowly licking shapes over your aching clit. Your thighs twitch and on instinct your legs attempt to shut from the overwhelming pleasure, the pressure building embarrassingly fast in the pit of your stomach.
“You gonna cum already little one? Keep these fucking legs open and cum on Bucks fingers, come on dumb baby” Steve groans against your pussy as he moves his attention back to your clit, sucking it sloppy and hard. Steve's hands grip your inner thighs hard and push your legs away from his head and Bucky pins one knee down to the bed with his free hand. “Cum on my fingers baby then you can get filled with our cocks you miss that dont ya’ little one” Bucky chuckled and watched as you squirm and whine when he starts slowly and teasing stroking his hard cock giving you the perfect view.
With a gasp and fingers threading through Steve's dirty blonde hair and pulling you cum hard on Bucky's fingers. You feel Steve smile against your clit as your chest rises and falls, catching your breath.
Bucky having other plans however the minute Steve pulls away from your clit is smacking his red leaking tip against your abused bud and slamming inside you. Your eyes glaze over and their voices fade as pleasure and overstimulation take over your body. A wanton moan fills the boy's ears causing them to smile as Bucky's thrusts are hard and fast. He's been pent up for days and your walls clenching around his thick cock is a heavenly feeling he desperately missed.
Your eyes fall shut but snapback open fast when Steve is gripping your cheeks squeezing them lightly, you whine, his rough hand making your face seem so small. “Eyes on us baby got it? Look at Buck as he fucks this gorgeous cunt yeah?” He questions and smacks your clit before you can answer, making you clench down harder on buck. “Yes! Mhm mhm!” You nod and hum in response, not being able to form enough words.
The brunette groaning loud and grabbing your hips hard to plow into you even harder. He was so big it was easy for him to manipulate you. “Fuck you’re already gonna make me come little one” his head falls back as he lets pleasure wash over him. He thrusts one last time filling you to the hilt as thick hot ropes of cum fill you up. Your mind goes blank again and before you can register their voices again, Steve's hands are grabbing onto your hips and lifting you into his lap.
“Shes already so fucked out aww well too bad baby i need to be inside you so fuckin’ bad missed it just as much as buck did” Steves voice is ringing in your ears but before you can form an answer he is lfting you up again to slide down onto his cock. “Ah! Fuck steve” you whine and yet still press your hips down to take him inside. “Look at you trying to complain baby you love it when we manhandle you, didn't think we noticed huh?” Bucky taunts and grabs a fist full of your hair to pull your head back so he can kiss you hungrily. You kiss back passionatly with a goofy smile on your face that fades into a lust filled one once steve starts to fuck up into you, hands still grabbing onto your now probaly bruised hips.
You moan against Bucky's lips, head hazy but happy thinking of how well they will take care of you after this. They may manhandle you and be much stronger than you but they could be big teddy bears when it came to aftercare.
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→ a/n: this is only my second time writing stucky so i hope its as good as my first one that everyone loved but :) also this was meant to go up yesterday im not doing 31 days im doing 18 im posting a fic every saturday, sunday, tuesday, and thursday but i got busy yesterday and this wasnt proof read too well so im sorry and i rushed the ending to get it out td.
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sehnsuchts-trunken · 7 months
Text
Great Balls Of Fire
Bradley Bradshaw x fem!reader 9k words (ik. i did it again. im sorry)
summary: It’s been four months since you last saw Bradley Bradshaw. Today's the day he finally comes back from his mission and you have more than one ace up your sleeve to surprise him with.
a/n: smut ahead. 18+ im serious theres smut theres a lot of smut. okay. as usual i will now list everything you may have to look out for
fancy ass lingerie, oral sex fem!receiving, unprotected sex (dont be like them, just know theyre in a committed relationship theyve had the talk and all), a lot of begging, hair pulling, good girl's because yes, in general again bradley is a talker, otherwise that's it
top gun masterlist
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It had been so long. It had been too long.
With the sun beating down hard on the pavement of the parking lot, the sunglasses on your nose doing their hardest to protect your eyes from the worst of the light, the sound of your heels clicking against solid ground as you took a few steps into the shade of the tree next to Bradley's Bronco. You had been waiting for ten minutes now, checking your phone what seemed like every five seconds, too nervous to actually pay attention to it but too nervous to keep calm either.
You had been so scared you would crash into a grandma on the way over here that you had honestly considered taking your own car instead of the Bronco - but Bradley had trusted you with it, had trusted you to keep his lady running, you, even though he never let anyone else as much as touch the steering wheel, and you would be damned if you didn't pick him up in it.
You hadn't seen him in four months. Four months.
You had been by yourself, had been on your own, had been lonely for four fucking months.
But today was the day you would see him again. Today was the day his oh-so-secret mission would finally, truly come to an end, the day that you would finally, truly see him again. Not over some low-quality video call in the middle of the night, with only your kitchen lights on in the background and your mind hazy and tired because he was nine hours ahead of you and seemed to be at the other end of the world - no, today you would finally, finally, finally see him in the flesh.
You'd been anticipating this moment for the past four months.
So this had to be perfect.
This would be perfect.
You had done everything possible to make this the most perfect day of his goddamn life. You had spent the last four months moving things from the old apartment to the new house - those things that you and him hadn't already moved anyway - and the past week, you'd been cleaning, decorating, anticipating.
He had told you so often how much he missed you. How much he wished he had been there for you, to help you pack the things, to help you take them apart and put them back together, to do more than just the paperwork and set up the bed and the couch.
But he couldn't. And now you were bubbling with nervous excitement, with the joy of sharing all of it with him, to show him the desk you'd put up in the bedroom, the pillows you'd bought for the couch, the paintings you'd hung up on the walls, the kitchen table you'd replaced, the kitchen tiles you'd painted. To show him how much better this new home was than the old apartment had been (even though you'd been very happy there for the past four years as well).
And Bradley would love it. You were sure of that.
You just wanted him to see it so desperately.
You looked up as another car approached - it wasn't Bradley, you knew that, Bradley would come out of that door opposite you, not out of a car, but... There was still some tiny little sliver of hope, the same way there had been every single goddamn time someone had rung your doorbell. It had only ever been the postman or your food.
The car stopped next to you. You watched the engine being turned off and the driver get out because, well, what else was there to do except nervously shift your weight from one leg onto the other and go insane?
So you watched the stranger hop out of their car, nodded politely at them and then refocused your attention on the tips of your sandals. At least you weren't the only one waiting here anymore.
You got out your phone again, checked the time (it'd been a minute and a half since you'd last looked at it) and let out a sigh.
It wasn't that Bradley was late. There wasn't really a "late" anyway, he'd only been able to give you a vague time he'd arrive on, but still. You'd been buzzing with nervous energy for over a week.
You took a deep breath to steady yourself, wiped your sweaty palms off on the sundress you'd put on - the tiny yellow sundress that Bradley had picked out for you on your birthday last year. The tiny yellow sundress that hid the sinful white lingerie under it just perfectly. The sinful white lingerie that you had bought for this very moment.
Bradley would go feral for it, you knew that. He loved white. You thought it was because it looked innocent, chaste. Like something untainted, something waiting to be ruined. Not that you minded. One day, he had promised himself, he would admit to you that it was because it looked like something you would wear on your wedding night.
But either way, you had gone shopping for the perfect set of lingerie and you were more than happy with your final choice.
Bradley could unwrap you like a present. You were desperately hoping he would unwrap you like a present.
You had spent the last four months not doing anything other than hoping. Imagining. Remembering.
So you weren't surprised that you felt like you'd soaked through those pretty (and expensive) panties already.
Your breath hitched. You shifted your weight again.
Bradley would carry you in his big, strong arms over the doorstep, would push you against the wall, would take everything he wanted from you and give everything you needed - he'd pull your dress right off and, at the sight of your lingerie, would fuck you raw.
You had to bite down on your lip to keep you grounded. Four months away had been a long, long time. Four months in which you'd only had yourself, your fingers, your vibrator to keep you company - four months in which you'd only heard Bradley's moans spill over the phone, had only heard him call you honey and good girl through a low-quality mic, had only seen him on pictures he'd left you, on a tiny screen at best.
You were depraved. And pretty sure you'd fall apart at the first touch.
You were so immersed in your thoughts, in that lovely imagery you had created in your head, that you almost missed the door opening. Finally. Finally. You straightened up at once.
It wasn't Bradley who stepped out first - it was one of his colleagues, you guessed, with blonde hair and much shorter - but it was Bradley who stepped out second. You'd know him from miles away.
He strode out of the door and into the sunlight, all familiar brown curls and broad shoulders and Ray-Bans on his nose and an Hawaiian shirt on and his bag lazily slung over his shoulder and that moustache - by god you'd have killed him if he'd shaved that off!
He turned his head and looked at you and a grin broke out on your lips, so wide, so incredibly wide that it felt like it'd split your face in half and before you could think, before you could form any coherent thought you were already moving, your legs with a mind of their own. You were sprinting towards him. Sprinting all through the parking lot, your heels click-clicking on the pavement, and Bradley grinned, grinned and let his bag fall to the ground carelessly, opened his arms instead. Wide, so wide. He was so tall. So broad. So inviting as you ran at him, as you jumped at him, as you wrapped your arms and your legs around him at the same time, as he caught you effortlessly, as your lips landed on his.
As you crashed into him, completely, and he didn't even stagger an inch back.
You had missed four months of this.
And now his lips were on yours. Your legs around his waist. Your arms crossed behind his neck. His breath against your mouth. His lips parted. His tongue against yours.
You were desperate. And you could feel just how desperate he was, too.
You could feel all the passion, all the fiery, red passion, all the force and firmness put into this kiss as his tongue ran along yours, as your breaths met and mingled, as his hands dug into your thighs to keep you upright, to keep you snug to him.
You pulled back incredibly reluctantly. You didn't want to let go of him. You never wanted to let go of him ever again. You wanted to have him, all of him, right here, right now, and then for eternity. But you couldn't, you couldn't because this was the middle of the parking lot, and also because you at least wanted to say hello first.
So you blinked open your eyes and took him in and allowed yourself to grin as broad and as wide as you needed to right now.
"You're back", you whispered, just because that realisation still had to sink in. "You're really back."
Bradley nuzzled your nose with his and let out a hum - god, how you'd missed him. The feel of him, the sound of him.
"Yeah, I'm here, honey", he muttered, that smile of his dripping down onto his voice. "I'm here and I won't leave any time soon."
You couldn't help but lean in again, couldn't help but capture his lips again because how else, how on earth would you let him feel all the joy you were experiencing right now? You didn't even know if you could actually feel all of it. You definitely wouldn't be able to put it into words. So you dug your teeth into his bottom lip and sighed into him and pulled him closer, closer and closer, even further into you.
"I missed you", you breathed against his mouth. "I love you and I missed you, Bradley."
He chuckled, kissed you again, drew back just enough to still touch you somehow, to still have his lips on your skin somehow and be able to talk at the same time.
"I love you so much, honey", he muttered. "And I missed you so much."
And then his lips were on yours again, his fingers digging even harder into your thighs, his breath and his tongue and his moustache scratching against your skin and you moaned, because there was no more anything you could possibly have done, because you couldn't help yourself, because you couldn't stop yourself, because you didn't want to either. You wanted to let him know just how goddamn fucking much you'd missed him.
Bradley had to bite back a laugh, pulled back and looked at you through his sunglasses.
"Sounds like we should get home, honey", he said, his eyebrows raised and his smile deepening with every word. "Been waiting for that for four months."
You let out another soft moan, pushed yourself even closer to him, dug one hand into the back of his hair and scratched the other down his shoulders, down his shirt. You wanted to feel him. All of him. God, the ride home would take ten minutes. Ten minutes. How were you supposed to survive that?
"Please", you whispered onto his lips, and you didn't think you had ever meant it as much as you did now.
Bradley groaned and kissed you again, quickly, heatedly, his tongue running along your bottom lip and then pulling back again. This wasn't enough. This wasn't enough.
He set you down on the pavement again softly, your legs a bit wobbly, unsteady, and trailed one hand from your thigh to your back - anything to keep touching you as he bent down to pick up his bag again. You smiled up at him, smoothed down the front of your dress and beamed as his eyes traveled down your body.
When they snapped back up to catch your gaze, the grin on his face had turned into a much more intense expression.
"You look gorgeous, honey", he muttered, tugging you further into his side, letting his eyes drop down to your chest again. You had to bite down on your lip to keep from jumping at him right this second. He should not have been allowed to just look at you if you couldn't have him touch you too. "Did you pick out new nail polish just for this dress?"
Your grin broadened. Of course he'd notice. Bradley Bradshaw was the only man in the whole universe who would notice. And he was yours.
"Yes, I did", you smiled, looking up at him as he walked with you back to the car. He hummed softly.
"It works great together", he said. Your breath hitched. He was gorgeous and he was here and he had noticed your nail polish. He was perfect. And you wanted him to fuck your brains out. "Reminds me of your burgundy silk dress."
You had to bite down on your lip again - god, you hadn't done that nearly as often when he'd been away! - to keep yourself grounded and to keep your grin in check before it could truly split your face in half.
Your burgundy silk dress was the one you'd worn to Penny and Mav's wedding two years ago that you had spent three weeks hunting down matching lipstick and matching nail polish for. Bradley had worn that lipstick on the base of his cock for most of the night.
"You're incredible, do you know that?", you asked, your voice a bit breathy. Bradley stopped in front of the Bronco, turned to you and pulled you close again. You brought your hands up to his chest.
"I've been told", he muttered, tilted his head down to look at you and then leaned down even further to brush a kiss to your nose. "Open up the Bronco so I can put my bag in the trunk?"
You let your eyes flutter close for just a tiny little moment (he was close, so close and you would literally die if he didn't start touching you any time soon) and breathed in as Bradley chuckled. You'd put the key in your pocket and were scrambling to get it out now, taking one, two seconds too long before you heard the familiar click of the car unlocking.
"Thanks, pretty girl", Bradley mumbled, letting go of you to pull open the trunk and you had to push down a sigh of disappointment, even as anticipation rose up in your stomach. You hadn't heard him call you pretty girl in months.
When he turned back around to you, you were still frozen in spot, still smiling dumbly at him, still waiting for him to touch you, to kiss you, to fuck you. He smiled back and you knew that he knew just what you were thinking. But you couldn't even begin to care. You wanted to get him home as quickly as possible.
"You need to stop looking at me like that, honey", he said, his voice an octave deeper and you just so managed not to let another dumb, pathetic moan slip. He closed the trunk and took a step back to you. "You know I can't help myself when you look at me like that."
At that, you did let the moan tumble from your lips after all.
He'd been away for four months. And he was looking at you with his eyes all dark and his jaw clenched and his chest rising and falling heavily. How on earth were you supposed to be normal about this? You were falling apart already and he hadn't even got you home. Four months had been a long, long time.
His hands were on your waist then, forcing you against the side of the bronco, the door handle digging into your back, the metal warmed up by the sun and your arms crossing behind his neck as his body crowded yours, one leg between yours and no more space to touch, to feel, to see anything that wasn't him - he turned his head to check if the other car had driven away and then his lips were on yours, his knee pressing against your centre.
"Bradley", you moaned into his mouth, before his tongue brushed yours and rendered you speechless. You rocked against his knee, bare skin against your thighs and you wanted to sob, you really actually wanted to sob, because this was the most contact you'd gotten in four fucking months.
Bradley pulled back an inch.
"You're soaked", he groaned against your lips, his breath on your skin, his hands on your waist and you thrust your head back against the car, against the window, squeezed your eyes shut, kept on rocking against his knee.
"I know", you whined. "Been soaked for months."
Bradley let out another groan and pulled back, pulled away from you and you whimpered, blinking your eyes open again because you'd been so close to finally getting what you wanted and now he was taking that right away from you again. You looked up at him and the only reason you didn't straight up voice your disappointment was that he looked just as debauched as you felt - running his hands through his hair, running them over his face, his curls all messed up and a considerable bulge already visible in his jeans.
"Get in the car", he rasped, taking another step back from you as though he had to physically put distance between the two of you so he wouldn't give in and take you right in this parking lot. Not that you would've minded. That other car was long gone. But that he had to restrain himself so much, that he looked so positively exhausted, that his voice was so hard and so rough and so raw, that he had already, so easily begun giving you orders drove you crazy. Orders that you knew you had to follow because this was him, this was Bradley, and if he wanted something from you.... he'd get it. You'd give it to him no matter what. You'd give him everything.
So you pushed yourself off the car with a hard breath and trailed around to the passenger side, keeping your eyes on the ground even as you heard Bradley shuffle and open the driver's door because you knew that if you looked at him, no matter how much you wanted to follow his commands, there was a high chance you wouldn't be able to help yourself.
It wouldn't be the first time.
The seat felt hot and your skin sticked to it immediately and you would have cared in any other situation, but not in this one. Not when Bradley put his hand to your thigh, to your bare skin, to just below the hem of your dress. You could have cried.
He was here, finally, and he was touching you, finally, but he wasn't touching you enough, not nearly enough. This would be a long ten minutes. You pushed your sunglasses up into your hair, turned your head and rested it against the head rest, smiling at the image before you - Bradley in the driver's seat of his Bronco, the steering wheel in one hand, the sun on his face, his curls longer than when you'd last seen them. Had he got more tan? Was that possible?
God, how you'd missed this man.
And he was here now, here, next to you, with one hand on your thigh and a grin playing on his lips and you couldn't help but smile. Big and broad and all-consuming because he was here again, this man that you called yours, he was right here next to you after four months. You loved him. You'd missed him so incredibly much.
His hand moved a little higher up on your thigh, his thumbs brushing, stroking over exposed skin, raising up your dress the slightest bit. Your breath hitched.
"Bradley-", you sighed, jaw clenching as you melted, melted at every little touch because you didn't have to only remember it anymore. You could just push up into him, watch him, breathe in his familiar scent, run your fingers along his arm. This was no more imagining, no more picturing, this was real, this was happening.
"God, I missed you saying my name like that", he groaned, tightening his grip on your thigh and you bit down on your lip, wrapped your fingers around his biceps, his wrist, forced yourself to keep your eyes open so you could keep watching him. You wouldn't miss out on a single second of watching him.
"Bradley", you repeated softly. "I'll say your name as often as you want me to."
His fingers dug even harder into your thigh as he let out some strangled sounding moan.
"You're gonna be the death of me", he muttered - how often you'd thought the same about him! "I'm lucky if I can hold out these ten minutes."
You watched him quietly for a second. You could sense the heat radiating off of him, could see his clenched jaw, could feel his deathgrip on your thigh, could hardly ignore the blazing arousal in your own veins. But if he'd wanted to fuck you in the back of his Bronco, he would've. (As picky as he was about who drove his car, he'd never had a single problem railing you into oblivion in the backseat.) There was a reason he was holding out. You could only guess that he wanted to do this properly - with time and room and no risk of getting caught by the authorities. Should you have minded? Should you have begged him to take you as quickly as possible? You were sure he would have, if you'd pleaded prettily enough. But you were quite alright with time and room and no risk of getting caught. At least for right now. The both of you would manage a ten minute ride, right? You had managed four months. Ten minutes were nothing in comparison.
"Okay", you said, trailed your fingers down to his and intertwined your hands. "I'll help. I'll tell you something. Distract you."
"You can try, honey", he chuckled, sneaked a quick sideways glance at you. "Tell me about the house."
You lit up at that. You had been dying to tell him about the house. So you pushed your arousal deep, deep down (which was easier said than done) and smiled up at him.
"I don't even know where to start", you said honestly, giving yourself a second to think about it. You had ten minutes, after all. And you had to fill them all if you wanted both of you to survive this drive.
So you told him about everything.
The short version, of course.
He'd heard some of it over the phone already, but he hadn't been able to call often and you'd spent most of your time crying and telling him how much you loved and missed him when he had answered, so...
The ten minutes went by more easily this way. You went on and on and on and on about the house, his fingers between yours, your eyes locked on his, with the occasional comment about how sorry he was that he hadn't been there to help. It had been unfortunate, of course, but at the same time it had given you something to put all your time and effort into, which had greatly helped you through his deployment. Plus, there had always been help when you had needed it - Penny and Amelia and Mav, Phoenix and Bob and Jake. The rest of the squad had been scattered, called off to their own missions, but those six you had been able to count on whenever.
Bradley's hand on your thigh was still highly distracting. He moved it up and down a few times, and each time your breath hitched, each time you stumbled over your own words, each time he grinned again.
At one point, his fingertips brushed so close to your underwear that you pushed his hand forcefully back down to your knee. He had been the one so worried he wouldn't manage a ten minute ride and now he was the one teasing you.
Not that you really minded.
But you truly felt like going insane.
Then, finally! you caught sight of your driveway. Bradley was out of the car the second he'd parked it, pulling his hand from your thigh and the key out of the ignition and you had barely unbuckled yourself when he was already opening your door, taking your hand and tugging you out, sending you stumbling into him, into his arms.
He pressed his lips to yours as he pushed the door close, pushed you up against it again, pushed the hem of your dress up to grasp at your bare thigh. You wrapped your arms around his neck, forced him even closer.
"Bradley", you gasped softly. You hadn't moaned his name like that in four months, you'd do it so often today he would get tired of it. Even though you knew that he wouldn't, of course - he would never get tired of you whispering his name into his mouth, into the nothingness of an empty room, into his ear, into the pillows.
He didn't pull back from you, even as he took a slow, careful step away - making sure you'd catch on, making sure you'd follow, making sure to keep you safely, steadily against him. Not that you'd have done anything else. You trusted him with your life, you would trust him to keep you upright. So you did just what he wanted, followed, stumbled with him, eyes closed, lips on his, fingers brushing along his shoulders.
He did pull back then - just an inch or two, to turn you around, to look over your shoulder once, to tear his hand from your thigh and wrap his arms around you instead. And then his lips were back on yours again and his tongue running along yours. He pushed and you followed his wordless command, your legs working quicker than your mind, stumbling, tripping backwards, backwards, backwards and you barely cared, barely even acknowledged the ground beneath your feet because you were wrapped up in his arms, because you were tugging at his curls, because he was here, kissing you, finally.
You weren't needy.
You were desperate. You were depraved, frantic, starved. He was the air you needed to breathe and you hadn't taken a single breath in the past four months.
So you weren't pretending in the way you pulled him close, closer, closer, or in the frenzied way you kissed him, or in the desperate way you sighed, groaned, moaned against him, into him. You needed him. You needed more of him. All of him. You needed to get inside so you could have him.
You bumped into the door then, just short of digging the doorknob into your spine - Bradley pushed you right up against it and you gasped into his mouth, into the kiss. He crowded you against the door much like he'd crowded you against the Bronco, pulling his arms from around you to grasp your waist instead, to press your hips up to the door as well, and used one hand to fumble for the keyhole. He did so blindly, with his eyes still closed, his lips still on yours, with one of your legs coming up to wrap around his hips, your heels digging into his shorts.
Needless to say, he needed quite some time to turn the key.
You didn't mind. Not in the slightest.
You were making out with Bradley Bradshaw right on the doorstep of the house you shared with him, in the bright afternoon sunlight and truly, you couldn't have minded less. You didn't give two fucks about any of your neighbours or any passerbys spotting you - should they, by god! Bradley had come home from deployment after four months, you would make out with him on your doorstep for as long as you wanted to. You wouldn't ever stop making out with him ever again.
Not when he was here again, in your arms, with your fingers tugging at his hair, brushing along his neck, stroking along the collar of his shirt, sweeping along his shoulders. Not with your leg around his hips. Not with your lips on his. Not with anticipation, with arousal in every fibre of your body, of your soul. You were going mad with it. You were getting drunk on it.
You were euphoric when Bradley finally opened the gods damned front door.
He kept you safe and steady even as the support at your back broke away, as you almost crashed onto the floor of your own hallway. He walked you back into the pleasant cold and for once, for the first and probably the only time, you were the one to break away. You gave yourself a second to catch your breath. Then you pushed off of him completely. You took a step away, pulled the key from the door, pushed it close and when you turned back around, Bradley had set his sunglasses down on the little table you had put next to the coat rack a few weeks ago.
And you looked him in the eyes for the first time in four months.
He motioned at the table.
"Looks great, honey", he said, his voice a little too rough to sound quite normal. "Nice touch."
You shook your head softly.
"I couldn't care less about the table right now", you muttered, and with that, you were on him again. Actually, truly, fully on him again. You pushed yourself right up onto him, into him, pried his shirt off his shoulders, off his arms, let it drop down to the ground and then reached for his jaw to drag him further down, to deepen the kiss even if you knew that was impossible. So you bit down on his lip and allowed him to finally push your dress up over your hips, over your chest, over your head - you had to let go of him for a moment then, had to pull away from him so he could drop your dress on the floor and before you could even come close to reaching out for him again, he was taking a step back.
You could feel his eyes raking down your body. You could feel him taking in the white lingerie on your skin - the strings of the thong high up on your hips, intricate lace around your waist, the small bow right in the centre of it, the bra cups almost transparent, the floral white pattern covering up your nipples, the other few, small bows sown onto the straps.
You sucked in a breath at the look on his face. You hadn't seen that look in far too long.
"God, honey", Bradley groaned, reached for your waist, brushed his thumbs along the lace, ran his fingertips along the lingerie. You bit down on your lip as he pulled you, slowly, carefully, into him - gave you enough time to rest your hands on his chest, your palms against his tank top. "You look sinful. Did you buy that just for me?"
You nodded, swallowed.
"Just for you", you admitted. "Wanted to surprise you."
Bradley tugged you another inch closer, so close that your chest bumped into his, your breasts pressing against him. He let out a hum, his eyes dropping down to your cleavage.
"You did that, pretty girl", he muttered, his fingers digging into your sides. "You're incredible."
Then his lips were on yours again and you were melting, becoming putty in his hands, turning to goo in his arms. Your breaths met, lips parted. You couldn't quite believe you were finally touching him again.
He walked you back to the bedroom, narrowly avoiding the doorway, his hands on your hips, his fingers digging into your bum. You reached for the hem of his shirt, forced him to stop right on the threshold so you could get rid of it - get rid of that one layer of fabric still in the way. You drew back for a second to pull it over his head, to drop it to the floor, to let your eyes travel all over his bare torso.
God, how you'd missed this man and his broad shoulders and his washboard abs. How you'd missed his touch and the sound of his voice.
"Bradley", you gasped softly, your fingertips trailing over his naked skin, down to his shorts. "I need you."
He let out a groan.
"I've waited four months for you to say that again", he muttered. You could hardly take another breath before he was on you again - lips on yours and hands on your hips and your back hit the bed a moment later, the cushy mattress, the fluffy pillows softening your fall.
You raised yourself up onto your elbows so you could watch him as he stood in front of your bed, the sunlight dripping down him like drops of water hitting the floorboards, his torso bare, his curls messed up, looking down at you with a heaving chest, his fingers on his belt, unhooking it, opening the button on his jeans, pulling down his zipper - you swallowed hard as you watched him drop his shorts on the floor, step out of his shoes.
A whine rolled off your tongue.
"Bradley, hurry up", you whimpered, your fingers cramping in the sheets, your legs pressing together all of their own accord, trying to get some kind of friction as he undressed himself in slow motion while you just lay there, your panties long soaked through and your fingers itching to trail down your own body.
Bradley chuckled.
"Don't worry, honey", he muttered, kneeling down on the ground to drop kisses to your calves before pulling off your sandals. "I'll make sure you forget about the past four months, alright?"
Your breath hitched as your heels hit the ground.
"Please", you begged softly. "I've missed you so much."
He wrapped his hands around your hips, pulled you to the edge of the bed - his breath ghosting over your underwear, over that tiny white piece of lingerie you had bought for him, for him to take you apart in. His fingers dug into your skin, spread out wide, to touch as much of you as he possibly could. He pressed a kiss right to that wet spot on your thong.
You let out a moan. God, how had you survived four months without him? You were barely surviving fifteen minutes of not having him fuck you.
Bradley grinned, raised his head to meet your eyes and seriously, you were close. Too close. He hadn't touched you yet, not really. You'd die today, you were sure, die and go to heaven.
"You look almost too good to undress, honey", he muttered, brushing his thumbs below that lace around your waist, not making a move to pull it down your legs.
"Bradley, please", you whined, your hands brushing over your own chest, running over your bra cups, tracing the flowers, desperately holding back from just ripping everything off yourself, pushing him onto his knees and riding him into oblivion. "Don't tease. I need you."
He groaned into the skin of your thigh.
"Anything you want, honey", he muttered - and then your thong was gone and he was burying his tongue inside you, dipping, tracing, licking, circling your clit, breathing you in, devouring you. Taking and giving everything. It had been four months since he'd had you like this and he wanted everything, every inch of you he could get. He wanted to taste you, every last drop of you, wanted to eat you out until you couldn't think anymore, until you had truly, fully forgotten all the time he had been away, all the time you had been forced to be on your own, alone.
You thrashed, moaned above him - your fingers clenching around your bra, brushing over your nipples. You were close. Close after the entirety of three seconds, close to tears, close to coming.
"Bradley", you choked out, tearing your hands off yourself, burying them in his hair instead - tugging him off, tugging him away from you. You took a deep breath as he let go of you, as he loosened his grip on you, looked up at you with desperation in his eyes.
"I need you to fuck me", you whimpered, already too sensitive, too tense. "I need you inside me."
You hadn't had him in four months.
Four months had been enough goddamn foreplay. As much as you loved when he ate you out, you needed him, you needed his cock, you needed to feel him inside you, you needed him to take you apart and make up for all the time lost.
Bradley nodded, nodded because he knew, he understood - he saw the frantic look in your eyes, had felt the desperate drag of your hands at his clothes, his arms, his shoulders, his hair. He'd give anything to you. Everything. He would do whatever you wanted of him.
Maybe in another situation he'd have made you beg more, would have teased you more, would have edged you a few times. Maybe in another situation. But not in this one. Not after four months of being away from you, not when you were so beautifully, so desperately spread out beneath him, looking up at him with wide eyes and rosy cheeks, your lip pulled between your teeth, your gorgeous white lingerie still concealing too much of your skin.
As he'd said, you were almost too gorgeous to undress. But just almost.
So he rose up from the ground, pulled you up with him, pulled you in, his fingers brushing along your sides, your spine, your bra clasp. He let it fall open. You worked fast, worked your bra down your arms and off your hands and drew back from him to fling it against the wall and lay down on the bed, lay down all pretty and waiting.
You needed him to fuck you. Now.
He let out a groan, closed his eyes. The look on his face had you pressing your legs together again. Wetness was coating the inside of your thighs now. It glistened on his moustache. And you were sure you could have tasted it on his tongue too.
He was making you go insane.
"How do you want me, pretty girl?", he asked, pressing his knees into the side of the mattress. "Tell me how and I'll do whatever you want."
Your breath hitched in your throat. Your nerves were bubbling up. Four months. You'd waited four months for this one question.
"Behind", you whined. "Need you from behind."
Bradley had known, of course, because that was what you always said when he stood at the front of your bed and asked you this question. His hands were on your waist, grasping, grabbing, turning you over before you had fully finished speaking, your cheek pressed against the pillows, your breath coming short and shorter, adrenaline pumping through every single one of your veins. You felt hot and sticky and needy and nervous.
Nervous because Bradley stilled.
Nervous because he sucked in a sharp breath.
Nervous, even though you had been here a million times before, in his bed and in yours, bent over desks and bars and couches, with the heat of him behind you, arousal flowing through your body like oxygen, anticipation clouding your mind.
"Shit, honey", Bradley breathed.
You closed your eyes and clenched your jaw.
How you'd have loved to see his expression. But you had known you wouldn't. You had prepared yourself to be satisfied with the sound of his voice, with the feel of him so close to you.
"Shit", Bradley repeated. He took another deep breath in. "You got a tattoo?"
A tattoo.
Your tattoo.
You nodded into the pillow, scraped your cheek against the fabric, so eager, so quick to agree. Four months you had waited for this. Four months since you had begun planning this - the very day after he'd left, in a conversation with none other than Phoenix. Four long, lonely months.
Bradley ran his thumb along the soft expanse of your skin. Along that strip of skin right above your hips, just where they met your back - right above your ass, right where he could see so very perfectly.
He was gentle. Almost not touching you at all. As though he was afraid he could somehow, even after all this time, hurt you, as though he was afraid he could wipe it away.
"It's healed", you whined, breathlessly, trying your hardest not to squirm, not to push back further into him even though you felt like you were going insane. You'd known he'd take his sweet time staring at that inked expanse of skin. But you hadn't known you would be so goddamn desperate for him to fuck you into delirium while he did so. "It's fully healed."
Bradley was quiet, silent behind you. His thumb stilled, stayed still. You sunk your teeth into your lip.
You would truly go mad here. For more than one reason now.
Bradley was always loud. Always moving, always doing something. He was forward and honest and loud and it was a miracle, really, when he wasn't. When he was calm and quiet and still. It didn't always mean something good.
It surely didn't always mean something bad, either.
But it didn't always mean something good.
And you hadn't been nervous. You hadn't been nervous about showing him, because you knew he loved you and he'd love this - this show of him, this show for him. Just for him. But you had still been fidgety. You had still been excited, flustered.... nervous, after all. In a good way. Now, good was turning to less good because he was quiet, for once, quiet and you didn't know what to do, what to say. You had expected him to go feral, had expected him to fuck you raw, to go absolutely ballistic. You had imagined, pictured, visualised it, four months long. Every night that you hadn't been remembering him, you had been imagining this - this moment right here, where he read the words inked forever into your skin, and every time, again and again, your fingers hadn't been enough, your vibrator hadn't been enough, nothing had been enough. Not in comparison to him, to his fingers and his tongue and his cock.
And every time, again and again, when nothing had been enough to replace him, you thought to yourself just how right it had been to have lain on that leather table bed in that tattoo parlour four months ago. Just how right it was to have him marked on your skin like that. Forever.
Great Balls Of Fire.
"Bradley, please", you whimpered, your fingers closing around whatever piece of fabric you could manage to grab at - the covers, the sheets, the pillows. "Say something. Please"
Bradley let out a long breath.
"Great Balls Of Fire?", he asked quietly, his fingers brushing over your skin again. Some kind of reassurance, at least.
"Thought you'd like it", you mumbled into the pillow, stumbling, tripping over your words a bit, still breathless around the edges. You couldn't be expected to talk now. Not when he was so close to giving you what you needed.
"Like it?" His hands wrapped around your waist, his left thumb still stroking over those unfamiliar familiar letters on your skin - Great Balls Of Fire, in his handwriting, taken from one of his sheets of music, from his piano. His song. His father's song.
Your song.
Your song.
Your song.
"Honey", Bradley rasped, pulling you an inch back to him and you let a whine fall from your lips. You were soaked, you were dripping, you were desperate and still so very unsatisfied. "Do I like it? I love it. I love you. God, you got a tattoo. You're incredible. You're-"
He stumbled over his own words, trailed off, left his sentence hanging unfinished in mid air. Instead, he leaned down and pressed a kiss right on top of your tattoo. Right on top of those letters, on top of that song, on top of your song. On top of the very reason you had met, six years ago in a stuffed navy bar.
"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me", he muttered, dropping another kiss onto your skin.
You whimpered again.
"You've been so good to me, honey, haven't you?", he went on, as though he wasn't hearing those little whines, those little moans rolling off your tongue. He was. You knew that. "You waited so prettily for me to come back, didn't you? You were so eager for me to be home again, so eager for me to be with you again that you even got a tattoo?"
You nodded along, nodded and nodded and kept on nodding because yes, yes and yes - yes to everything, yes to him.
"You got a tattoo just for me, honey. You can't even see it. Probably had to twist and turn in the mirror every day to take care of it, didn't you? And all just for me."
You nodded again - never really stopped nodding, not with his fingers brushing along your back, over your skin, with his voice so deep and rough and real.
"Just for you", you whined.
Bradley chuckled.
"Just for me", he repeated, his voice deeper than before - if that was even possible - his fingers stroking along your sides, roaming over your back, your spine. "Such a good girl."
A shiver went through your entire body at that - through your legs, your arms, your shoulders, through every single one of your fingers and toes. He knew just what he did to you when he said that.
He knew.
"Bradley", you moaned, unashamed now, the nerves in your veins long subsided, replaced once more by that all-consuming heat that you could never get enough of.
"Yeah, honey?", he asked. You could hear the grin on his lips. "What do you want?"
You let out a sort of sob that sounded pathetic even to your own ears. It wasn't that you minded begging. Because you didn't. You really didn't. But you had already done so, had already begged him miserably, had told him so prettily how you wanted him to fuck you. And he was starting all over again.
"Just once more, honey", Bradley whispered, dropping kisses to your spine, climbing higher and higher. "Tell me once more and you'll get whatever you want."
"Fuck me", you cried out, burying your face in the pillow, not letting even half a second pass by. Bradley always made good on his promises. And you needed him more than anything right now. "Please fuck me."
He was on you within a heartbeat.
One hand around your waist, pulling you into him, as the other one guided himself into you. He pushed into you in one smooth movement, pushed his hips right to yours, stretched you out like he hadn't in four goddamn months.
You were clenching around him, moaning his name, tears brimming in your eyes at the feeling of him again, finally. He was grunting, groaning behind you, his hands clasping around your waist as he settled deep inside you and let out a breath.
You hadn't felt so stretched out in so long. You hadn't felt him in so long. You needed more. You needed to feel more of him.
"Bradley", you whimpered. "Move."
His fingers dug even firmer into your sides. You bit down on your lip. He felt so good, so heavenly with his hands on your skin and his cock deep inside you, but you needed him to move, you needed him to move now, you needed him to fuck you and make you fall apart for him.
"Need a second, honey", he grunted, running his thumbs along your skin - along your new tattoo, just for this, just for him. "God, pretty girl, you're so tight. Missed you so much."
You whimpered underneath him, whimpered as you forced yourself to keep still for him, even as your thighs burned with the need to move, the need for more, the need to finally come undone around him. You knew you were close already. You could feel it, had been feeling it, dancing around the edges of your perception, melting in your blood, scorching in your stomach.
"Missed you too, Bradley", you moaned into the pillow, breathless and desperate for him. "Want to be good for you. So good."
"God, honey, you are", he groaned. "So good. Perfect."
And then he was moving, finally, and you let out a sobbed kind of prayer, your eyes falling shut, your fingers digging into the sheets as he thrust in and out of you in a slow, steady rhythm - enjoying the feeling of you around him, letting you enjoy the feeling of him inside you.
Just that you couldn't enjoy this.
You couldn't enjoy this because you were wound so tightly, wound so goddamn tightly that tears were pricking in your eyes, threatening to run down your cheeks and drop onto the covers. You needed him to make you fall apart, to make you come, you needed more. Just a little more.
You were teetering on the edge and he had you spiralling with how slowly he was fucking you. You needed him to send you over that edge, not build it higher and higher and higher up.
"Bradley", you whined, stumbling clumsily over his name as he ran a hand up your back. "More."
"Dunno if I can-" He broke off, his breath hitching, his fingers resting on your neck, brushing through your hair. "Fuck, honey, dunno if I can do more without coming."
You bit down on your lip at that, let out a moan so absolutely filthy that you were sure you would have been embarrassed of it if you'd had any more capacity to think - to think of anything other than him, anything other than how this god, who could fuck you for hours on end without tiring once, with so much stamina he could have you sobbing, coming for him four, five times on his cock alone, how this god was so desperate for you after four months that he was worried he'd come if he went any faster.
You were almost pushed over the edge just by that alone.
"I don't care", you cried, because you really didn't. "I don't need long, I need you. I'm so close."
Bradley grunted, his fingers brushing even higher up on your scalp.
"You're gonna be the death of me, honey", he muttered, just before he grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled you up onto your knees - into him, into his arms, your back flush to his chest. You dropped your head against his shoulder with a moan, let your eyes fall shut again.
He thrust up into you with vigor then, with more urgency, with less fear of coming undone, less fear of cutting this short. His hands smoothed over your sides, over your chest, holding you up against him, brushing along your breasts, along your stomach.
And all you could think was yes, this, this was it. This was what you had been imagining, what you had been picturing in a cold, lonesome bed every night, what you had been so desperate for.
His fingers trailed down your thigh, trailed up again, caught on your clit, drew a circle against that little bundle of nerves and you fell forward, doubled over, only held up by him, by his arms around you as you came undone, as you clenched around him.
Four months.
Four months and a tattoo.
And he hadn't even had you there for two minutes, had barely touched you, and now you were falling apart for him, lips parted, eyes squeezed shut, legs burning, fingers cramping. You'd waited four months for this.
You could feel him spilling inside you, noticed it somewhere dancing around the edges of your perception as you gasped for breath, tears stinging your cheeks and your nails digging into your own thighs.
This.
Him.
Bradley's finger had stilled on your clit. You blinked your eyes open, refocused on your green wallpaper, on the pictures, the old vintage polaroids of you and him right above the bed until you could see them all clearly again, until you could see them and realise what they were, until you could manage to tilt your head back and rest it, once more, against Bradley's shoulder. Until you had come back to reality again.
"I missed you so much, honey", he muttered into your ear, pressing a soft, open-mouthed kiss onto your exposed neck. "Missed this so much."
"Missed you so much too", you mumbled, reached for his hands. He pulled his finger from your clit, let you intertwine your hands with his, rested them carefully on your stomach. "Love you, Bradley."
He pressed another kiss to your neck, his lips warm, oh so warm on your skin, soft and warm and you needed him to kiss you now, to press his lips to yours.
"I love you too, honey", he whispered, halfway to brushing another kiss onto your skin when you turned your head, met his lips with your own, cut him off by surprise.
This was a weird angle, you had to strain your neck to even slot your lips together somewhat well and you were sloppy with it, too, your chest still heaving and your mind returning to clarity just now, but you didn't care, couldn't care, not when he'd just made you come, when he was holding you in his arms, when he was finally here, right behind you again, as though the last four months hadn't happened at all.
When you pulled back, you were feeling more normal again - as normal as you possibly could feel, with him behind you, with him inside you still.
"You got a tattoo", Bradley breathed, a grin dancing around the corners of his lips. You chuckled.
"Just for you", you nodded, brushing your fingertips up his arms, up to his elbows.
Bradley kissed you again, all parted lips and breathing into each other. You felt almost melancholic when he drew back. But he was smiling - and when he smiled, you had to smile too.
"I'm never letting you go again", he said, loosened his grip on you to trail his hands slowly, softly down your body, giving you enough time to steady yourself without him holding you up anymore. "And I'm not letting you leave this bed until the sun comes up, alright, pretty girl?"
You had to bite down on your lip to keep from grinning, anticipation already bubbling in your veins again. You knew he could make good on that promise. And that he probably would.
"Yes, please, Bradley", you muttered, already bending down again, splaying out your hands to catch yourself on the mattress as you showed him your tattoo again, just for him to see, just for him to touch. Just for him. "Whatever you want. As long as you want. I love you."
1K notes · View notes
en-dazedafterdark · 7 months
Text
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PAIRINGS: established relationship!jake x reader
GENRE: smut, fluff?
SYNOPSIS: In which you help your boyfriend relieve his stress after his schedule
WARNINGS: unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), bath tub sex, shower sex, mentions of multiple rounds, oral sex (f receiving), handjob, creampie
WORD COUNT: 4k
A/N: wish this was me </3
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The interviewer was asking him a question - something about how preparations for their world tour are going - and he nodded, smiling as if he was paying attention to her. He was answering the questions she was asking, but that was all; his mind wasn't on the interview. The last few weeks of preparation for this tour had been stressful and he'd had a hell of a time keeping up his happy, energetic, cheerful persona.
The only thing on his mind at the moment was going back home to his gorgeous girlfriend. His schedule had kept them apart for way too long and it was all he could do to not just run from the interview, jump in a car, and get the hell home so he could be with her.
"So, Jake," the interviewer asked. "Is there anything you would like to say before we go?"
Jake looked up. They were done? Finally. It had felt like forever, and now he could finally get some rest. "Uh," he said. "Yeah. I guess. Um, I wanna thank everyone who has supported us. And to all our fans, I'm looking forward to seeing you all again."
And to his girlfriend, he thought. I'm gonna give you the best fucking night of your life.
The interviewer smiled and gave the closing remarks, and the cameras were turned off.
The time passed by in a blur, he was so desperate to get home that even his group mates could sense his energy.
"Dude, chill," said Jay. "You're acting like you haven't seen her in years."
"It feels like it," Jake muttered.
"Oh, leave him alone, guys," said Sunghoon. "I'd act the same if my girl was waiting at home."
Jake gave his friend a grateful smile, and they both laughed as Jay and Heeseung made exaggerated gagging sounds.
Mercifully, there was little to no traffic, and they were back home within the hour.
"I'm gonna go see my girlfriend," Jake announced, ignoring his groupmates' good-natured teasing.
"Don't you want to eat first?" Jay asked, opening the fridge and poking around inside.
"I'll order in. See you guys tomorrow," Jake called, already heading towards the door.
The apartment complex wasn't far from the company building, and soon Jake was pushing open the door and stepping into his shared home.
He was met with an immediate wave of exhaustion, and he sighed heavily. It had been a long day.
"Y/N?" he called. There was no answer, but the door to their bedroom was closed.
Jake walked over to the door and opened it, smiling softly. You were sleeping, curled up on top of the sheets, the light from the lamp on the bedside table illuminating your soft skin.
"Jake..." you murmured, not even opening your eyes.
Jake couldn't help the smile that came over his face. "How'd you know I was here?"
"I'd know your footsteps anywhere," you replied sleepily.
Jake laughed. "Of course you would.”
You sat up and stretched, blinking owlishly as your eyes adjusted to the light. "Hey, babe. Did everything go well today?"
"Mmhmm," Jake hummed, walking over to the bed and sitting down next to you. "How was your day?"
"Uneventful. But it's better now."
"Mm, I'll bet," Jake teased, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into his lap. “I had a long day and I still need to wash up and eat something. Would you like to join me, or are you too tired?"
"I'm never too tired for you," you replied. "Let me go run you a bath."
Jake let out a contented sigh, watching as you slipped off his lap and padded into the bathroom, the door shutting softly behind you.
Jake was exhausted, but he was also incredibly stressed. His schedule had been packed full the past week, and he'd barely had time to sleep. He'd been trying to be strong and keep up his cheery demeanor, but it was wearing him down, and he was getting more and more frustrated and tired as the days went by.
And you could tell.
You knew Jake better than anyone, and you could see the strain in his shoulders, the tightness in his voice. You could see how hard he was working, and you wanted to make sure he knew how much you appreciated it.
You turned on the water and adjusted the temperature, waiting until the bath was filled with steaming hot water before adding a generous amount of the lavender-scented bubble bath. The scent filled the air and you breathed deeply, inhaling the calming aroma.
The water was just right, and you shut it off, smiling. You turned around, planning to call for Jake, only to see him standing in the doorway, a towel around his waist and his eyes closed, a peaceful expression on his face.
"Babe?" you said, concerned.
Jake opened his eyes, looking over at you. "Sorry," he said, shaking his head. "Just spacing out a little."
You nodded, giving him a small smile. "Your bath is ready. Come on, get in."
Jake followed your instructions, sighing as he sank into the water. He was tired, but he wasn't relaxed yet.
"Are you alright?" you asked, kneeling beside the tub and stroking his hair.
"Yeah," Jake mumbled, closing his eyes again. "Just tired."
"I know," you whispered, gently cupping his face in your hand. "I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault," Jake said, leaning into your touch.
"Still," you said. "You've been working so hard. And you're so stressed."
"I'm alright," Jake insisted, smiling at you. "Don't worry."
You weren't convinced, and you knew that if you didn't help him relax, he'd never be able to get a good night's sleep.
You leaned in and kissed him gently, your hands resting on his chest. He responded immediately, kissing you back and pulling you closer.
You smiled against his lips, feeling the tension melt away from him as he wrapped his arms around you and deepened the kiss.
"Mmm," he murmured, breaking the kiss and resting his forehead against yours. "Join me.”
"Hmm?"
"Join me," he repeated, smiling.
You raised an eyebrow. "Really?"
"Yes, really. Please. I wanna hold you."
You couldn't say no to that.
You stood up, and Jake's eyes followed your movements as you stripped off your clothes. His gaze was hungry, and you felt a tingle run down your spine as you slipped out of your pants and panties. You felt a bit shy as you removed the last piece of your clothing, his eyes washing over every bit of your exposed skin.
"Come here," he murmured, and you stepped into the tub.
The water was hot, and the bubbles were thick, covering your body as you settled into his lap. Jake's hands ran down your back, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. You sighed, and he smiled.
"That feel good, baby?" he murmured, kissing the side of your neck.
"Yeah," you whispered, tilting your head to give him better access.
His hands continued to explore your body, his fingers skimming over your breasts and down your sides. His touch was light, and you squirmed, the sensation sending shivers down your spine.
"Fuck, you're beautiful," Jake murmured, his voice husky.
"Shut up," you mumbled, blushing.
"I mean it," he insisted. "I've never seen a more gorgeous woman."
"Stop it," you whined, embarrassed.
"Never," Jake whispered, his voice low and gravelly. "Not when you're like this."
He leaned in and kissed you, his hands squeezing your ass. You gasped, and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss.
The feeling of his body against yours, his hands on your skin, his tongue in your mouth, his fingers squeezing your ass - it was too much. You felt your arousal pooling between your legs, and you pressed yourself against him, desperate for friction.
“Jakey… let me wash you off."
Jake groaned. "You're killing me, baby."
"Please," you said, kissing his jaw. "You've had a long day."
"Fine," Jake relented, his eyes dark with desire. He turned around, somewhat awkwardly in the small bath tub.
You picked up the bar of soap, lathering it up and running your hands over his back, massaging his sore muscles. He moaned, the sound sending another shiver of desire through you.
"Oh, fuck," he murmured. "That feels so good."
You continued to massage his back, taking your time and making sure you got every part of him. When you were satisfied, you moved onto his chest, and then his stomach, working your way down his body.
His erection was standing tall and proud, and you couldn't resist.
You reached out, taking him in your hand and stroking him gently.
Jake let out a gasp. "Oh, fuck, Y/N..."
"Shh," you murmured, leaning forward and kissing his shoulder. "Just relax."
You stroked him slowly, your grip firm. He moaned, his hips thrusting forward into your hand.
"That's it," you whispered. "Just let go."
"I...I can't," he panted, his hips moving in time with your movements.
"Yes, you can," you cooed, speeding up your pace.
He was so close, and you could tell he was on the edge. You kept stroking him, and he threw his head back, a groan escaping his lips as he came, his seed splashing into the water.
You held him in your hand, feeling him pulse. His head was buried in the crook of your neck, and you could feel him trembling.
"Fuck," he mumbled.
You smiled, letting go of his softening member and wrapping your arms around him.
"You okay, baby?" you whispered, nuzzling his neck.
"More than okay," he murmured. "Thank you, Y/N."
"You're welcome," you replied, kissing his temple.
He stayed like that for a few moments, his breath tickling your skin, his body relaxed against yours. Finally, he sat up, looking at you.
"Now it's your turn," he said, his eyes full of mischief.
You giggled. "Jake, I'm fine."
"No, no," he said, a smile playing on his lips. "I insist. Let me take care of you."
He took the soap, lathering it up in his hands and then placing them on your breasts, massaging the suds into your skin. You gasped, the sensation sending tingles of pleasure through you.
He took his time, massaging your breasts and teasing your nipples. His touch was gentle but insistent, and you could feel your arousal growing.
"Jake..." you murmured, closing your eyes and enjoying his ministrations.
"Feel good?" he whispered, his voice husky.
"Mmm," was all you could manage.
His hands traveled down your body, caressing your skin and leaving a trail of fire in their wake. He slipped one hand between your legs, his fingers brushing against your folds.
"Oh, fuck," you gasped, your hips bucking involuntarily.
"That's it," he murmured, his fingers moving against you, circling your clit. Your chest was heaving and if it had been any other time you would’ve been embarrassed at the way your hips were desperately moving against his hand, but at this point all you could think about was him.
"Fuck, Jake, please," you whimpered, your body aching for him. You felt warm all over, heat rising from your legs and spreading to the rest of your body.
"Tell me what you want, baby," he purred, his fingers teasing your entrance.
"I need you," you moaned, unable to contain yourself any longer. "Please, Jake, I need you inside me."
Jake groaned at the sound of you whining his name, and his hands stilled. You opened your eyes, and he was staring at you, his eyes dark with lust.
"Fuck, you're beautiful," he whispered, and you felt a wave of heat wash over you.
You looked up at him, your eyes pleading, and he leaned down, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. His tongue slipped into your mouth, exploring and dominating, and you couldn't help but moan.
You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer, needing him. He broke the kiss, his breath hot on your lips, and looked down at you, his gaze full of hunger and desire.
“Come closer baby. Straddle me," he growled, his voice low and gravelly.
You did as he said, straddling his hips and positioning yourself above him.
He reached down, his hands gripping your ass, and pulled you down, sheathing himself inside of you.
You cried out, the sudden sensation of him filling you sending a shockwave of pleasure through your body. He groaned, his grip on you tightening as he began to move his hips, fucking you slowly.
You were a whimpering mess, the feeling of him inside you, filling you completely, driving you insane. You clung to him, your fingers digging into his shoulders, as you tried to keep up with his pace.
“Jake Jake Jake Jake..." you moaned, the sound of his name on your lips a symphony to his ears.
He was relentless, his movements fast and powerful, his hips thrusting upward as he fucked you hard and deep. His mind had gone blank as soon as he had felt your walls grip his cock, the only thing on his mind was making you fall apart.
"Look at me, baby," he murmured, and you looked up, meeting his gaze. His eyes were full of hunger and passion, and you felt your orgasm approaching, the intensity of his gaze sending you over the edge.
"Fuck," he gasped, feeling you clench around him.
He continued to thrust into you, his pace unrelenting. You were barely coherent, the sensations too much for you to handle. Your legs were shaking, your toes curled, and you were moaning his name.
"Jake, fuck, Jake..."
"Come for me, baby," he growled, his grip on your hips tightening. “Come around my cock."
You did as he said, your orgasm hitting you hard and fast. Your body trembled and shook, waves of pleasure washing over you.
He continued to fuck you, his movements becoming erratic as he chased his own release. His fingers dug into your skin, and you felt him stiffen, his release coming seconds after yours.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck..." he muttered, his cock twitching inside of you.
The two of you were still for a moment, basking in the afterglow, before Jake pulled out of you, his softening member sliding from inside you.
"Are you alright, babe?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.
"Yeah," you breathed, your body still tingling.
He smiled, the expression on his face almost boyish. "Good. You're incredible, you know that?"
"You're not so bad yourself," you teased, reaching up and running your fingers through his hair.
He chuckled, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close. "I love you, Y/N."
"I love you, too," you whispered, cuddling against him.
You stayed like that for a while, enjoying the feeling of each other's bodies. Finally, Jake spoke up.
"We should get out. We're going to prune. And we should probably wash up some more. We’re sitting in cum water now.”
“Gross! I don't wanna get up," you whined, snuggling closer to him.
"Come on, baby," he said, giving you a gentle squeeze. "Let's get out and shower. And then we can cuddle in bed."
"Fine," you sighed, reluctantly pulling away from him.
You stood up, the water cascading down your body, and stepped out of the tub. Jake followed suit, and you watched as the water dripped off of his chiseled body.
"What are you looking at?" he teased, noticing the way you were ogling him.
"Nothing," you said, a blush creeping across your cheeks.
He grinned, stepping closer and kissing your cheek. "Don't worry, I'll let you stare all you want later. Right now, we need to wash up."
"Okay," you mumbled, feeling silly.
Jake turned on the shower, waiting for the water to warm up before ushering you in. You sighed, the hot water hitting your skin and relaxing your muscles.
"Feel good?" he asked, his hands resting on your hips.
"Yeah," you murmured, leaning back against him.
He smiled, and reached for the body wash, squirting some into his hands and beginning to massage it into your skin.
"Hmmm," you hummed, enjoying the feeling of his hands on you.
"Like that, huh?" he whispered, his voice low.
"Yeah," you replied, the sensation of his hands on your body making you shiver.
His hands slid from your shoulder to your back, slowly reaching to the front and cupping your breasts.
"Mmmm," you moaned, closing your eyes and letting him work his magic.
"Feels good?" he murmured, his breath hot on your ear.
"So good," you breathed, your body beginning to heat up again. “I don’t think you want to just shower right now.”
"No," he whispered, his hands moving lower, ghosting over your belly. "I want to fuck you again. Right here. In the shower."
You moaned, the thought of his hands on you, his cock inside of you, his mouth on your skin making your head spin.
“Can I taste you baby?”
His voice was thick with desire, and you could feel the tension between you.
You nodded, your words failing you, and he wasted no time. He pushed you up against the wall, his lips crashing against yours in a passionate kiss. His hands roamed your body, leaving a trail of heat everywhere he touched. You couldn't get enough of him, the feeling of his skin against yours intoxicating.
He kissed his way down your body, his lips ghosting over your sensitive nipples, sending shivers of pleasure through you. His hands cupped your breasts, gently squeezing and kneading them.
"Oh, god," you moaned, the sensation making your head spin.
"Like that, baby?" he murmured, his mouth trailing lower, leaving a path of kisses down your stomach.
"Yes," you breathed, your head falling back as his hands traveled lower, his fingers teasing your folds.
"You're so wet," he whispered, his voice husky. "So ready for me."
"Please," you begged, desperate for him to touch you, to fuck you, to make you come.
"Patience, baby," he purred, his fingers continuing to tease you, sending waves of pleasure through you.
You were a whimpering mess, the anticipation nearly unbearable. His mouth found your inner thigh, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin.
"Jake, please," you moaned, your body trembling with need.
"Tell me what you want, baby," he said, his tongue darting out to lick a trail up your thigh.
"I want you to eat me out," you breathed, the words leaving your lips in a rush. "I want your tongue inside me."
"As you wish, princess," he murmured, his voice low and sexy.
His mouth found your pussy immediately, his tongue lapping at your folds. The sensation was intense, and you cried out, the feeling of his tongue against your sensitive flesh almost too much.
He explored your most intimate parts, his tongue dancing over your clit and making you see stars. You were a writhing mess, the feeling of his mouth on you pushing you to the edge.
"Jake, fuck, Jake..." you moaned, your hands desperately trying to grasp at the wet tile behind you.
He increased the pressure, his tongue circling your clit and his fingers teasing your entrance.
You were lost in the pleasure, your body overwhelmed by the sensation.
"Please," you begged, your body aching for release. "Please, Jake."
He looked up at you, his eyes dark with desire. He gave your clit a hard flick with his tongue, sending you hurtling over the edge. You came hard, your body convulsing, the pleasure overwhelming you.
"Oh, god," you whimpered, your body trembling as the aftershocks rippled through you.
But Jake didn’t stop. His tongue continued to lap at you, his fingers pushing into you, coaxing every last bit of pleasure from you. You were barely able to stand, your legs shaking and threatening to give out.
"Jake, please, I can't take it," you panted, your voice barely a whisper.
"One more," he demanded, his tone commanding. "You can do it baby. Give me one more."
You couldn't deny him, and you knew your body was already responding, the pleasure building again. His mouth worked its magic, his tongue finding all the right spots, his fingers curling inside of you. You were helpless against the onslaught, and before long, you were coming again, the intensity taking your breath away.
"Fuck," you cried, your body shuddering as you came.
He slowed his movements, his tongue languidly licking you, easing you down from your high. When you finally caught your breath, he looked up at you, his face glistening with your arousal.
"You okay, baby?" he asked, his voice rough and husky. You could barely hold yourself up, but you managed a nod.
"Good," he purred, getting to his feet. He kissed you, his tongue parting your lips, tasting you. You moaned, the taste of yourself on his tongue turning you on.
"God, you're so fucking hot," he groaned, his erection pressing against your leg.
"I want you," you breathed, your voice trembling.
"Then have me," he murmured, his hands cupping your ass and lifting you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist, his cock brushing against your entrance.
He pushed you against the wall, his lips crashing against yours. He entered you in one swift motion, the feeling of him stretching you making you gasp.
"Fuck," he moaned, his hips thrusting into you, burying himself deep inside of you. “Pussy so good, you were made for me weren’t you? So perfect. All mine."
"Yes," you cried, the sensation of him filling you driving you wild. "All yours."
"Fuck, yes," he growled, his hips pounding into you. You clung to him, your nails raking down his back, urging him on.
He was relentless, his hips pistoning into you, his cock hitting your sweet spot over and over again. You were lost in the pleasure, your mind foggy, only the sensation of his body against yours and his cock inside of you registering.
You were moaning incoherently, the feeling of him fucking you taking over. He buried his face in your neck, his lips and teeth teasing your skin. You were on the edge, the pleasure building, the pressure increasing.
"I'm close," you whimpered, the words leaving your lips involuntarily.
"Me, too," he grunted, his hips slamming into you, his pace quickening.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic. You felt him stiffen, his cock twitching inside of you as he came.
You were right behind him, the sensation of him coming inside of you sending you over the edge.
You came together, your bodies shuddering, the pleasure taking over. You were a panting, moaning, trembling mess, and the world faded away, the only thing that existed was the two of you and the intense pleasure.
"Holy shit," you finally breathed, when you had finally come down from your high.
"Yeah," Jake murmured, his breath warm against your neck.
You leaned against him, your body still shaking, unable to move.
He held you for a few moments, before carefully setting you down. Your legs were weak, but you managed to stand.
"I think we need another shower," he chuckled, gesturing to the mess the two of you had made.
"I don't think I can handle another round," you said, the thought of him fucking you again making your legs weak.
“Oh we’re not done, baby. I want you in my bed. All night long. But first, we have to actually shower. Then maybe dinner and drinks. And then more fun. You game?"
You nodded, the thought of spending the night with him making you giddy.
"Good. Now let's wash up and get out of here. I'm starving." And a loud grumble echoed throughout the bathroom, which could only be Jake's stomach.
You laughed, and pulled him in for a kiss. "Sounds like a plan."
"Perfect. Because there's so much more I want to do to you," he purred, his voice sending shivers down your spine.
"Then let's get started," you whispered, a wicked grin spreading across your face.
It would take an hour and three more orgasms for the two of you to leave the bathroom. And that was only the beginning.
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2K notes · View notes
ft-3racha · 4 months
Note
Yunho, size kink, lots of hands pls 🤪, with a lot of fluff, lovely aftercare
new necklace (ft. jeong yunho)
pairing: jeong yunho (ateez) x gn reader
warnings: smut!!!(minors dni!); established relationship, clear d/s dynamics, bigdick!dom!yunho x curious!sub!reader, hands (🤪), size kink (heavy), degrading, praise, fingering (reader rec), choking, unprotected sex (wrap it up irl), breeding kink, creampie, multiple orgasms (reader rec), a little teeny tiny angsty bc of problems regarding their sex life, ending with fluff and aftercare bc yunho is a gentle giant at heart <3
author‘s note: your wish is my command! how could i not write this ask??? as soon as i read this, the gears in my head started spinning and produced this piece. enjoy. :))
wc: 3,6k (oops-)
____________
„i‘m cumming, baby.“
i know, you thought to yourself, before your boyfriend pulled himself out of you to release himself on your lower back. as always. yours and yunho‘s relationship was absolutely beautiful, and so was the sex. the only problem: it was always the same. he made you cum with his hands, then you guys fucked until you came a second time before he chased his own release, which always resulted in him unloading on your back, kissing you on your forehead and getting a towel to clean up the mess he produced.
it was good, but you sure as hell missed something. you always had the feeling that yunho was holding himself back, for whatever reason that may be; he just absolutely didn‘t look like the vanilla kind of guy he was trying to be. or so you were hoping deep down.
a couple of days, and a shopping spree online later, you find yourself in your shared bedroom, the parcel on your bed opened up and it‘s containments already on your body. as you look into the mirror, you admire the white silky robe against your skin, hiding your nude body from unwanted eyes; actually, any eyes other than your boyfriends were unwanted. together with that beautiful shining piece of fabric you ordered another thing adorning your lower half: it was a beautiful bottom piece completely made out of white lace. that color was chosen on purpose, because it made you look the most innocent; what you were planning was far from that though. just a few minutes prior you had taken some sultry pictures of yourself posing in your new undergarments, not even thinking a second before sending them straight to yunho. it didn‘t take him longer than five minutes to reply with a casual „i‘m at work, love“. well, no shit, that was kind of the whole point. your answer was a question, straight to the point with a little bit of attitude: „what are you gonna do about it?“.
silence. all that followed was unanswered, mysterious and unsatisfying silence. you were hoping that yunho would understand what you were trying to do, that you wanted to tease him and rile him up with your bratty behaviorism. but he unknowingly ended all potential fun and experimental games before they had even begun. you threw your phone to the side, exhaling heavily while closing the robe with a knot in the front. the rest of the day was spent with chores as you tried your best to get your mind off of the disappointment that was spread all throughout your being. the sun was close to being set, and you just finished wiping down the kitchen, when you heard your phone go off. nonchalantly, you went to check it, and you did a double take when you openend the message you received. it was from yunho.
„wait for me in the bedroom in that outfit. on your knees. be home in 15.“
speechless. absolutely no words were leaving your mouth, but more so roaming in your mind as heat spread through your entire body. you did exactly as yunho requested you to do, his message making it sound as if you had no other choice but to obey to him. exactly how you wanted it to be.
14 minutes and 52 seconds later you heard the front door open and lock back up. normally it took him about 20 minutes to get home from work, you figured he went a little over the speed limit for the perfect reason. if he were to get a ticket, you would definitely forgive him. and while you were doing as he asked, yunho came through the door, his heartbeat pounding in his ears and his thoughts going wild. nevertheless, he calmly took off his jacket, hung it up neatly and placed his bag down in it‘s designated spot before taking off his shoes as well. a deep breath left his plump lips, the exhaled air hot and heavy; with slow and heavy steps he made his way towards the bedroom, cuffing the sleeves of his white button up and pushing them up to his elbows in the meantime. it was exciting to him, almost as if he was a predator on the hunt, because he could only imagine what the current scenario did to you; how it made your breath hitch in your throat with every single step that was taken, how a shiver ran down your spine at the thought of what he was going to do to you, how excited you were about not knowing what was going to happen.
yunho slowly opened the door, and what he saw kicked all the air out of his lungs. you looked so stunning, so ready for him to destroy you: perfectly sat on your knees in front of the bed, your robe untied, the white lace still adorning your lower body. your gaze faced towards the ground, palms neatly sat on your legs. so good for him, and him only. the door closed, but you didn‘t dare to lift your eyes. yunho stepped closer and came to a halt right in front of you, yet all you could see was his feet and the beginning of his black slacks that were covering his beautiful long legs from your desperate view.
„beautiful“, was the first word that left him, and it made a chill creep up your entire being at how deliciously deep his voice was. „did you do all of this for me?“ you nodded, his presence so domineering that it took away your ability to speak. you knew he wasn’t as vanilla as he was pretending to be. „you should use your words when asked a question, sweetheart.“ sweetheart. you considered yourself lucky to be sat in this very moment, otherwise your knees would‘ve given out. wanting to please him in every way possible, you slowly lift your gaze and almost inaudibly answered: „yes, i did. all for you.“ „good baby.“ a needy whine escaped your throat at the praise, not used to yunho being as vocal as he turned out to be. his dark eyes raked over your submissive form; glossy and half-lidded, irisis almost eaten up by enlarged pupils. he slowly made his way over to the bed and sat down on the edge, instructing you to get up and sit on his lap. you do as you‘re told without another word, finding yourself on him only seconds later. his big hand cradled the side of your face, the calloused pad of his thumb slowly pulling at your bottom lip, it snapping back in place immediately after he let go. „kiss me, please“, you begged him, overwhelmed with the feeling of him surrounding you entirely. „you sound so fucking pretty when you beg“, is all he said before giving in to your request, his lips engulfing yours in a kiss so passionate it made you throb with need. it was all tongue and teeth, desparation visible on both sides. but it might‘ve just been the best kiss you‘ve ever shared. you felt him everywhere, long fingers digging into your scalp, slightly pulling your head to the side as his lips traced your neck, wet kisses spreading all over it. „my god, you are so stunning“, he spoke lowly into your ear, earning a moan from you in response, „can you feel what you are doing to me?“ indeed. as soon as he said that, you could feel how hard he was inside of his pants, his cock trying to break free while poking at your center. experimentally, you started rolling your hips, to which yunho responded with an almost animalistic sound escaping his throat. „so desperate“, he mumbled, his hand itching its way from your scalp to the front of your throat, „want me to choke you, baby?“ „god, please“, was all you could say, the thought of his hand around your neck causing you to involuntarily clench around nothing. you’ve always had a thing for his hand, and yunho knew; he saw your little glances here and there, but never said a word. it was cute, almost naively sweet even, how something so normal to him could rile you up so easily still, even after having been together for awhile now. he had never asked to choke you before, but feeling those slender fingers expertly applying pressure on the spots where your charotid artery lays had you crying out his name, your thoughts revolving around nothing but him while your hips ground into him with more pressure in search of any kind of friction. „look at you“, he almost growled, hazy eyes scanning you with a smirk on his deviously handsome face, „all it takes is my hand around your neck and you start acting like a desperate little whore?“ the name had you internally screaming, the combination of praising and degrading words tumbling out of him hitting you just right.
next thing you know his hand leaves your neck and you find yourself on your back, the white robe having been cascaded in the process. „are you gonna be a good slut for me, hm? you gonna behave?“, yunho asked, his dominant frame hanging over you as his big hand lays on your inner thigh. „i promise“, you answered so fast it was almost pathetic, „i‘ll be so good. just want your cock inside of me, please.“ „i have to stretch you out first, baby. don‘t think your tight little hole can handle it without.“ and he was right. there was a reason to the beginning of your usually bland sex routine: he had to make you cum with his hands first to help you relax, to help you adjust to him easier, because he was a sight for sore eyes. he always stood tall, not only having been blessed in height but also in size. thats why, even after many times of sharing the bed with him, you find yourself still not used to his impressive length. slowly testing the waters, you reply: „give me your fingers then, so i‘ll be able to take your big cock.“ he groaned, and you added a very obvious size kink to your mental notes; you had suspected it for a while after having been asked if „it will even fit“ and being reminded of „how tight you are“ a couple of times before. yunho pulled down your panties almost in a hurry, attaching his fingers to you as soon as the lace left your body and hit the floor. finally. „inside, please“, was all you were able to say, mind foggy with the need of him filling you up. and he did just that, his pointer and middle finger breaking past your entrance and into you, deliciously stretching you out. both of you moaned at the feeling, yunho finally realizing how badly you really needed him after feeling your wetness trickle down his hand, and you because you almost came from him just inserting two fingers. the chokehold this man had on you in this very moment was absolutely driving you crazy. „always so fucking ready for me, shit“. he cursed before driving his long digits into you with force, hitting the spot that made your toes curl and your hairs stand at the back of your neck. your hands flew to his back, clinging to the thin material of his dress shirt. the fact that he was doing your fully naked form fully dressed drove you insane, the humiliating feeling adding to your pleasure. his name left your lips like a prayer, as if he was the only thing that mattered in this world, and for you, he was.
the way your orgasm approached so quickly left you shocked, not even being able to warn him before it happened, and you swore to yourself in that very moment that you never came that incredibly hard because of just his hands; in fact, you probably never came that hard in your entire life. he helped you calm down, softly stroking your thigh to soothe you and help you calm down from your orgasm, letting his gentleness peak through for just a second, checking in and making sure you were okay before all of it left again in the blink of an eye. his newfound duality was crazy, but crazy attractive indeed. relishing in your post-orgasmic state, you barely realized that yunho had gotten up, slowly unbuttoning his shirt and leaving it to mingle alongside your panties on the floor, his slacks and boxers joining just a minute later. as he hovered back above you, you saw him in all his glory, the tip of his long cock leaking precum, and you couldn‘t help your hand finding his shaft, stroking him slowly. „so big“, you state softly, doe eyes finding his, „it‘ll stretch me out so nice, will hurt so good.“ „fuck“, he cursed, tip prodding at your abused hole, „i‘m gonna fill you up so good, and you‘ll take it all.“ with that, you felt him slowly fill you up, and you nodded alongside that burning feeling you loved so much. „look at how you swallow my cock, greedy little slut can never get enough of it, isn‘t that right?“ his pelvis met yours as his tip kissed your spot with the right amount of force, making you see stars in the process. „yes yunho, feels s‘ good.“ you couldn’t even form coherent sentences anymore, already too fucked out from him just entering. he bottomed out slowly, barely having left you before pushing all the way back in with a little more strength. you arched your back and clawed at his, moans and whimpers leaving you, and that‘s all it took for him to finally let go. his cock rammed into you hard and fast, the sound of skin slapping on skin echoed from the walls. it was as if the english language had left you completely, barely understandable mumbling and cries of pleasure being the only things leaving your mouth alongside his name. „shit angel“, yunho panted above you, your nails raked down his back at the nickname, marking him up, „you feel so fucking tight around my big cock. tell me, who do you belong to?“ „you“, you answered immediately without a second thought. „i bet nobody could ever make you feel the same.“ „never“, you reassured, causing him to speed up even more, „y’ make me feel so fucking good. cock‘s so big, can feel it in my tummy.“ as those words left your mouth you felt that familiar feeling built up again. yunho must‘ve felt it too, probably because you kept clenching around him, because he leaned down, lowly whispering in your ear: „cum for me, now.“ and you did, your second orgasm of the night not washing over you, but rather hitting you like a brick. your vision turned blurry as your whole body tensed up, thighs spasming and hole clenching around yunho to the point where he had to still completely to ensure he didn‘t spill, wanting to relish in the feeling of your heat just a little longer.
he helped you again, gently stroking your hips, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as you slowly came back to this planet. you feared it was over, were scared that it would be the same as always from now on, but you were met with a stern gaze again as soon as he realized you were good still. „on all fours, ass up.“ that was a new one. usually sticking to just missionary, you were surprised when you found yourself with your face pressed into the pillow and your back arched, ass up in the air. yunho stood behind you on his knees, his cock now glistening in a mixture of your fluids. „hands behind your back“, he instructed as you gave him your hands to hold behind youf back with one of his giant ones, the other one used to guide his cock back into you. the new angle made you moan, mentally cursing yourself for not suggesting this position sooner, because fucking hell, did it feel fantastic. he could reach even deeper, making you feel fuller than ever before. now you could really feel him rearrange your guts. he wasted no time. snapping his hips into yours at a ruthless pace, no mercy to be found. „you feel so fucking good“, he praised, „my good little whore. all mine.“ this man and his filthy mouth will be the death of you. „so full“, you whimper. „yeah? gonna fill you up even more.“ the moan that escaped you after that statement could put pornstars out of business. „you‘d like that, huh? want me to pump your tight little hole full of my cum?“ all you could do was nod in response, the thought occupying your mind completely. breeding you was never a topic of discussion; it has been a silent agreement from the get go for him to pull out, eventhough the thought of him filling you up had crossed your mind multiple times beforehand, and not once did you mind it. not at all. so you nodded again, clenching around him before answering with a desperate tone: „please fill me, use me. i can take it all.“ you didn‘t think it was possible, but after that he sped up even more, not only chasing your third orgasm of the night but his own as well. he pulled you up by your neck, your back colliding with his chest as his big hand wrapped around your throat again, choking you from behind while relentlessly pounding into you. you could feel your orgasm approaching again, hearing him mumble some more praise into your ear, always mixed with those delicious derogatory words. „my good little slut, so ready to take my cum. gon‘ give it to you, just a little more.“ his thrusts got sloppier after that, not once going down in roughness as they did. „yunho, i‘m-“, was all you managed to stutter out, before your third and final orgasm hit you like a truck, your whole body clenching and tensing up in yunhos arms. and as he felt you clench and pulse around his cock, yunho‘s orgasm hit him as well, causing him to spill his seee inside of you. it felt good, almost animalistic; as if he was marking you up from within, and you loved every second of it.
all that was heard after was both of your heavy breathings in the heavier air. yunho slowly lowered you onto the bed, caressing your hair while you snuggled up to his chest. the room probably reeked of sweat and sex, but you couldn‘t care less. „you did so great, my love“, yunho spoke up after taking a minute to breathe, „so incredible for me. i love you so much.“ „i love you too“, you smiled up at him, before laughing lightly, „you fucking animal.“ he laughed, his cheeks coating themselves in redness. „i always felt like you were holding back“, you stated, to which he just nodded. „i did, yeah. didn‘t wanna scare you away.“ you could (metaphorically) hit him in the head for not just speaking up about his desires, but neither did you, so you chose not to scold him for that. instead, your heart swell at the fact that he didn‘t wanna scare you, and you lifted your head, slowly entangling your lips in a sweet kiss.
a couple of minutes of you guys reflecting on your session and cuddling in bed passed by, before yunho got up to run a bath for the both of you; your sore muscles couldn‘t thank him more. he came back seconds later with a wet towel, the water running in the background. „is it okay if i clean you, or do you wanna do that yourself?“, he asked cautiously, and you appreciated his thoughtfulness, especially in moments like these. „you can do it. thank you, love“, you answered as he slowly spread your sore legs to clean up the mess both of you produced. once he finished that up, he picked up the clothes from the floor, tossed them in the washer alongside the towel and got you some water and snacks for you to hydrate and gain back some energy. and as you laid in your warm bath yunho sat behind you, massaging your shoulders skillfully. „that feels really nice. thank you for preparing all of this, i really appreciate it.“ you letting him know that made his head spin and his belly fuzzy. „no worries, beautiful. thank you for letting me take control of your body and making you feel good. it means a lot, and it‘s not something i take lighthearted“, he replied and you blushed. yunho always let you know that he appreciates your body, but hearing him say it after such an intense session was extra special. „i trust you“, was all you said, before letting your head fall on his chest, his arms snaking around your waist and connecting with your hands in the front of your body. „how about we lay in here for a bit more, then we wash up, get into something comfortable and i order our favorite while you pick out a comforting movie?“, yunho asks with a soothing voice, playing with your fingers absentmindedly. you nodded in response, a shy smile grazing your features, before you guys get back into conversation about nothing particular, sharing love confessions, laughter and mindless kisses surrounded by bubbles and sweet lavender air.
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tetsusangel · 1 month
Note
yayy okay so let's talk about dp with bullies satosugu but it's an au where they're both demons and reader is a pretty angel
gojo and geto like to have a little fun tormenting innocent humans, but lately their plans have been "ruined" by reader
she spoils their fun because it's her duty to protect humans but also because she's kinda hoping to get the boys' attention
they come up with a plan to surprise her and finally give her what she wants: to have her cute angel holes filled by her favorite bullies 💦🩷
a/n: omg nonny i haven’t written in ages and this is my first req after redoing my whole blog and im sososo happy you shared this thot with me im literally creaming
cw: dom!satosugu, sub!reader, multiple orgasms (reader), overstim, pet names (princess, baby, sweet/pretty/good girl), slight degradation, sprinkle of praise, double penetration (1 hole), cunnilingus, 'toru slaps your cunt twice, he also "slaps" your face once, oral (m! and f! receiving), creampie, unprotected sex, dumbification (sorry i couldn't help myself), MDNI, lmk if i missed anything!!
w/c: 1.4k
Devil!Satoru and Devil!Suguru are the WORST! They make your life as the resident caring angel so hard :( They’re always prancing around toying with oblivious humans.
Before they met you, their antics were occasional and spontaneous. But when they first saw you swoop down and save the poor innocent soul they had been messing with, they knew they had to see you again. Even if that meant going out of their way to torment more humans than they were interested in doing.
And they knew you were enjoying it. Not enjoying saving the humans, but enjoying seeing Satoru and Suguru. The two men were constantly bored and aching for a new plaything, those plain humans just weren’t cutting it anymore. They needed to get their hands on you and that sweet cunt you’d been hiding from them.
They also knew you were too shy to say anything. You were just a pretty little angel trying to stop two big, mean devils from harming the one thing you had sworn to protect. So of course, they kept on with their torments towards those inferior humans. And you, of course, kept coming in to save the day.
“That’s enough! Don’t you guys think it’s time you give those poor humans a break. They haven’t done anything to you” You scolded, putting up a horrible act of pretending you weren’t enjoying their company.
Deep down all three of you knew that something was bound to happen soon. You were all reaching your breaking point. Soon enough they’d give you exactly what you want from them, and they would take exactly what they want from you.
Devil!Satoru and Devil!Suguru wouldn’t be able to hold the title of devils if they weren’t as good as they were in teasing you and slowly breaking you down into the perfect pet for them. But to do that, they’d need you to open up first. What better way to coax a kind hearted angel out of her shell than to surprise her?
As you laid down on your back against the plush expanse of your bed, you wondered why you hadn’t seen or heard anything from Satoru and Suguru. It had been an entire week of peace and quiet; something you weren’t used to and something you didn’t miss.
You didn’t enjoy seeing pure-hearted humans get hurt by them, but you did enjoy the way Satoru and Suguru looked at you when you scolded them. Like they were going to eat you up and, God, you wished they would.
Pulling a pillow over your head you groaned. “Aww poor baby, somethin’ wrong?” A muffled voice called out from your right. A voice that sounded a lot like….Satoru? “She must’ve missed us. I think she likes us more than she’d like to admit” Another voice calls out, this time from your left and the sound is similar to the honeyed voice of Suguru.
Amidst your confusion, the pillow you had used to cover your face was ripped from your hands and lo and behold were the two missing men. Before you can stop yourself, you whined out a quiet “I missed you”. By the looks on their faces, you could tell they had missed you too. And that they definitely had something planned for you.
“Yeah, baby? You missed us? Fuck, we missed you too. Our sweet, little angel. Always pretending she’s coming down to save those worthless humans when she really just wants to be near us.” Satoru starts.
“No- No I” This time, you’re cut off by Suguru. “Don’t be like that pretty girl. We missed you too. In fact, Satoru and I wanna show you how much we missed you”.
You couldn’t believe it. You’ve waited for so long for them to finally give you what you’d been craving since the day you saved the first human they tormented. Were you dreaming? Were you in heaven? No, of course not. Devils aren’t allowed in heaven. This was hell.
Everything happens so suddenly. You're flipped on your hands and knees, Satoru behind you and the tent in Suguru’s pants is right in front of your face just begging to be touched. Before you can even pick a hand up to unzip Suguru, you feel a large hand flip your skirt up followed by two long digits rubbing against your clothed pussy.
Another whine escapes your lips as Satoru’s ring and middle finger draw tight circles around your clit from above your panties. When Satoru finally drags your panties down and off your ankles is when Suguru speaks up again. “C’mon princess, don’t keep me waiting. We’ve been so patient with you. Don’t make us be mean to you on our first day. Or would you like that?”
The whimper that escapes your lips doesn’t go unnoticed by the two. Suguru drops his boxers and jeans, kicking them off as fast as he can. “Kiss the tip baby- Fuck, that’s it. Good girl” The praise is sent straight between your legs and a chuckle from Satoru lets you know he felt your needy cunt clench around his fingers. 
“You like that, baby? You wanna be praised? But you’re acting like such a slut. What kind of angel lets two devils use her like this? Oh sweet girl, you’re so wet. You like when I’m mean to you?” You want to say no, you want to tell him it isn’t true (it is true), but Suguru shoves himself farther down your throat, a guttural groan sending vibrations all over your body. 
You’re so focused on trying to take Suguru down your throat that you don’t realize Satoru getting impatient. A sharp slap on your clit brings your attention back to Satoru. You barely get out a “S’toruuuu” before he does it again. Another cross between a moan and a whine leaves your mouth causing Suguru to buck his hips into your face. 
Satoru can tell you’re getting distracted again, but this time he opts to wrap his soft tongue around your clit while his ring and middle finger slip inside your wet folds, scissoring you open. They’re both so overwhelming, Satoru behind you slurping away at your sweet pussy and Suguru wrapping a hand around your head and pulling it back and forth on his dick. 
And then as if they were connected telepathically, they both pull away at the same time. Your head is spinning, the only thing on your mind is making sure you end the night with them stuffing you full of their cum. 
Satoru leans back against the headboard and pulls you into his lap, your back facing Suguru. And finally, finally, he slowly sinks you down on his fat length. It’s already too much for you but Suguru is right behind him, they’ve waited long enough. You can take them both. As soon as you’ve settled down on Satoru, Suguru is pushing into you. 
“W-Wait, fuucckkk, ‘s too much! Too big!” You cry out, but the two devils don’t seem to care. They buck their hips into yours, the room filled with echoes of your whines and moans of “C-Can’t”, “Wan’ more” and “Please d-don’t stop”. Soon enough you’re not talking at all. You’ve cum more times than you can count. The overstimulation was too much for you to handle. 
Your eyes have rolled into your head and the only thing you can think of is Satoru and Suguru and Suguru and Satoru. A light slap on the right side of your face gets you to look at Satoru but he can tell from that far-away look in your eyes that you aren’t completely here anymore. That’s okay though. He knows he wanted this, he knows Suguru wanted this, and he for sure knows that you needed this.
“Suguru, shit, I think our sweet, little angel has gone dumb” A groan is heard from the other man. “Fuck, what slut. She takes us so well.” G-Gonna cum soon” A response is heard almost immediately “M-Me too. You gonna cum for us one more time, pretty girl?” Suguru’s hand snakes around your waist to use a finger of his to rub fast and messy circles around your puffy clit. 
No longer able to respond, you arch your back further into Satoru causing your head to lean back on Sugurus shoulder as you whine out in overstimulation. Their thrusts become erratic and you know they’re getting closer and closer and finally they fill you up as you cum. The sticky, sweaty smell of sex overwhelms your senses. Another tap is felt on your shoulder, “Hey pretty, let’s get you cleaned up”
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