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rinhaler · 7 months

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𝖒𝖞 𝖋𝖆𝖛𝖔𝖚𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝖈𝖔𝖑𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖎𝖘 𝖌𝖗𝖊𝖊𝖓

✧˖*°࿐ : 18+ only, no minors. ✧. ┊ ⁭plug!ryusei shidou x f!reader

Genre: smut Notes: iiiiiii want him n need him desperately ♡ i made him icky, manipulative and dress like pete davidson warnings: 18+, (soft?)dom!shidou, sub!reader, dubcon, drug use (weed), blowbacks/shotgunning, reader has pubes!, ryusei has a gold tooth, virgin!reader, corruption kink, dumbification?, fingering, blowjob, head pushing ♡, male masturbation, use of nii-chan (not referring to ryusei), slight dacryphilia, shush!kink, praise, pet names, cum eating ♡, he calls your pussy 'her', slut used once. words: 7.1k

“No way am I coming over. Your big brother would kill me.”

Ryusei can’t stop himself from smirking when he can hear your attempt to conceal a whimper. And he just knows there’s a plump little pout on that pretty little face on the other end of the line.

He’s been dealing to your brother for years, they’re basically best friends if you subtract the client aspect from the equation. They smoke together, they’re always hanging out and Ryusei isn’t a stranger to the apartment you and your brother share.

“How did you even get my number anyway, darlin’? Reaaaal naughty of ya to be calling me like this. Gonna be in big trouble if I tell your nii-chan.” he tells you. And this time you hear the smirk behind his voice. He’s teasing you. He’s toying with you, but you still can’t stop yourself from becoming paralysed with fear.

“He gave me it for emergencies! Please don’t tell ‘im!” you sigh. “He’s on some weekend work trip because he’s tryna get a promotion. I’m just lonely…”

“Awe, and why is that my problem?” he asks, harshly. It takes you aback slightly though your determination doesn’t falter. You take a deep breath and try to formulate a response in your mind.

“You guys are always havin’ fun together… but you never let me join in. I wanna have fun with you too, Ryusei—”

“No.”

“But—”

“I said no.” he stands firm and shows no signs of backing down. He hears the little deflated exhale you release, and he licks his lips as he thinks. He doesn’t want you to be sad, but he knows fucking around with a client’s sister behind his back is a stupid fucking idea. “You’ll be alright on your own. Why don’t you invite one of your friends over.”

“W-Well… I just wanted to see you.” you tell him, honestly. “I— I wanted to try smoking with you.”

He chuckles when he hears that. It hasn’t been a discreet crush you’ve harboured since you saw him for the first time. You may have thought otherwise, but Ryusei has always known. He kisses his teeth and laughs again as he thinks about this tantalising proposition being thrown onto his lap.

“You’re really tryna get into trouble this weekend, huh? Do you always invite drug dealers over?” he wonders, knowing the answer already. He knows you’re a good girl who always does as her nii-chan says. But today you want to let your hair down. Today you can let your hair down because he isn’t here for the whole weekend. You can be a little naughty and reckless and have some fun for a change. “Are you that lonely, baby? Jus’ want some company?”

“… Y-Yes. ‘m lonely…” your lower lip wobbles as you think about being in the same apartment all by yourself for the next two days. You’re fine now, it’s only 12:30pm. But what about when it gets dark out? You’re a stupid girl who lets her mind run wild with the possibilities of ghosts and home invaders. You’ve seen one too many horror movies while your brother and Ryusei are high in the front room for no regard to your taste in genre. You hate horrors but you’ve seen so many thanks to them. And now your mind is racing. What if you got kidnapped or killed for the fun of it? “I don’t wanna be alone, Ryusei… ‘m so scared.”

He grits his teeth, resolve crumbling as he thinks about you all alone in the apartment he’s spent so many nights in. So many pointless nights where he could have been out making more money or fucking a multitude of girls who don’t hide their attraction for him. So, is he really about to sacrifice the same for you?

Lonely, frightened, you?

“Well, we can’t have that, can we? I’ll be there in twenty.”

Now that he’s here you’re not sure what you were thinking. You’ve never smoked before. You’ve not even had a sip of alcohol before! But you know drugs are Ryusei’s whole life right now. Selling, buying and occasionally consuming. He locks the door behind himself as he enters. He’s wearing a wide grin as he comes in and approaches you.

He thinks you’re just the sweetest little thing.

Your feet walk you backwards as he gets closer to you, lunging forward to grab you when you almost trip over your pink Kirby slippers that your brother got you for your most recent birthday.

“Clumsy girl.” he grins, gripping into the fat of your underarms. He leads you over to the couch and more or less throws you down onto it. He dumps his backpack on the coffee table. “What time does your brother come home, sweetheart?” he asks, not even looking your way as he takes out his belongings and spreads them out on the table.

“Uh—” you think, eyes squinting as you look up at the ceiling and try to act natural. “Monday… morning.” you tell him.

“Well, I’m sure he won’t mind if I keep you company ‘til he gets back, right?”

“R-Right…” you aren’t so sure about that, but you’re hardly going to disagree with him. Though in truth, he knows he’ll be furious. But the time he cared about your pathetic brother’s opinion has been and gone. What kind of man would he be if he left a poor defenceless thing like you all on your lonesome in such a sketchy part of town?

You watch him carefully as he pulls out a grinder, some papers, and a large baggie of weed and puts them all down on the table. Your mind wanders as he describes the effects to you, none of it is computing. And it gets even worse when he starts talking about different strains doing different things. As far as you were aware, weed was just… weed. You’d never heard about strains or effects. All of your knowledge comes from movies. Tripping, munchies, all of the cliché stuff.

He grins when he sees your dumb expression. Of course you’re not understanding anything he says. All you need to know is that you’ll be okay because he’s here to look after you. He’s here to take you through it.

You watch him as he grinds it up in a tall metallic grinder. And seeing him roll is like witchcraft to you. It’s not like it’s the first time, but it’s the first time you’ve seen it up close. Your nii-chan always exiles you to your bedroom when they’re rolling and smoking. You’re only allowed out once they’re high, though it’s never stopped you peaking from the crack of your door.

Your eyes widen in disbelief as he holds eye contact with you while he licks the paper. Suddenly you’re looking anywhere but in his direction. He’s revelling in it, making you so uncomfortable and shy. You really are sweet ‘n innocent, huh?

“Here.” he hands it to you, his voice earning your attention and you look into his pink eyes before they drop to the blunt in his hand. You look back at him, confused, and he finds himself adjusting the baggy shorts he’s wearing in hopes that you haven’t noticed the way his cock jumps when you tilt your head so stupidly. “What? This is what you wanted.” he speaks, his defensive tone surprising you.

“But… I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve never smoked before…”

“Never? Not even a cigarette?” he asks.

“Nothing… never smoked or had a drink or even been to a party. Nii-chan is too protective.” you pout. He wants to fucking ruin you. You’re so fucking cute and stupid he thinks he might cum in his underwear just from hearing you speak. You’re so obedient and it makes you so fucking stupid. As if you aren’t a grown woman who could get her own apartment and do whatever she wants. “Will you show me?” you speak, cutting through his thoughts.

He nods, effortlessly. He lounges back into the couch, legs spread wide as he lets the blunt balance between his lips. It’s lit instantly, and you can’t believe what a pro he is. He’s got one of those stupid lighters. The ones with the metal bit you have to spin with your thumb rather than one of the plastic ones you just push down. You can never use them. Your brother always lends them to you when you want to light a candle, but he always ends up lighting them for you.

“Get me somethin’ to use as an ashtray.” he tells you, it’s a rude demand rather than a request. But his lack of manners doesn’t stop you from immediately jumping to your feet and rushing over to the kitchen sink. You just washed your brother’s ashtray this morning. You smile happily as you hand it to him, clearly willing to do anything he asks whether he’s polite about it or not.

He takes a few more drags and flicks the ash every so often. And when he’s halfway through, he looks at you, expectantly.

“Your turn.” he tries to hand it to you again. You take it, and you flinch as he also forces the lighter into your palm. “You didn’t invite me over just to watch me smoke, did you? What, are you trying to take advantage of me?” he laughs, running his tongue along his top row of teeth. His golden canine twinkles at you, halting you from speaking for longer than you’d intended.

“It’s not like that! I just— I’m nervous, and I hate these lighters.” you explain. You stiffen as he rolls his eyes and adjusts his body, angling it to face you. His stare is harsh, bordering on agitated. It’s only fair, you think. He hadn’t planned on spending his day babysitting you or showing you how to do something so simple. “’m sorry.” you speak, it’s so quiet he almost doesn’t hear it. Almost.

“Open up.” he commands. You’re confused at first, and before you know it his rough thumb is tugging at the fat flesh of your lower lip. “I said: open up.”

You clear your throat and angle your body in a similar way to him. Although you’re nowhere near as tall or intimidating as him. You’re like a sullen little dormouse, respecting the orders of your master. Your lips part ever so slightly as he places the blunt between them. Your lips close around it, keeping it perched firmly between them. He can see lip gloss residue smearing on the paper; his depraved mind is going into overdrive. His lewd thoughts encompassing him, he needs to break free and focus on you before you start to ask more silly questions.

He tucks your hair behind your ears and away from your face. A brief thought crosses his mind of how embarrassing it would be to get caught by your brother because he singed your fucking hair.

“Don’t just suck it, yeah? Breathe it. You wanna feel it go in your chest, alright?” he asks you, it sounds like a reminder. Like he’d already told you this and he’s making sure you are listening this time. It’s hard not to when all you can focus on is him. How he’s staring at you. How he smells like cheap aftershave and weed. The smell of weed is revolting, truth be told, you aren’t sure how you’re going to be able to inhale it without gagging.

He flicks the lighter a few times and keeps an eye on your expressions and your breathing to make sure you’re doing it right. You look terrified.

And he likes it.

Your eyes get wider and wider the more you inhale, and he’s worried they might pop out of that pretty head of yours. You suck and you breathe in as much of the earthy smoke as you can until it embraced your lungs like an invader claiming its new home. He can’t hide his laughter when you begin to choke, realising you are the good girl you’re claiming to be and absolutely have never smoked anything in your life.

“Everything hurts.” you tell him, still coughing and sputtering out lingering smoke as your eyes water. “It tastes like shit…” you continue, covering your mouth as you can’t stop yourself from choking anymore. He gets up, handing the ashtray to you to balance the blunt in and he flees the scene of the crime without a word. He returns a few moments later with a glass of water, he even added in a few ice cubes for you.

“Think you’re all grown up because you’ve had your first puff?” he wonders, “Never heard you swear before, darlin’.” he finishes as he hands the glass to you.

“I swear… I’m allowed to swear, Ryu.” you answer defiantly.

Cute, he thinks. You really are trying to sound all big and bad for him. But he’s never going to take you seriously after that little display, you’re just a little girl trying to act tough. A cute girl trying to be the cool girl.

But you both know you’re far from cool. A cool girl wouldn’t care so much about pleasing her brother and being a good girl for him. A cool girl would do whatever she wants without fear of the consequences.

At least you’re trying, he thinks.

You glug and you glug until you soothe the suffocating dryness in your chest. He’s transfixed on a droplet of water clinging to the corner of your mouth, unable to tear his gaze as it begins to run down your face. And he can’t think of a cuter sight than you still trying to be the cool girl, wiping it away with the back of your hand before he can notice despite it being much too late for that.

“C-Can I do some more?” you ask him, big wet eyes blinking at him as you hope he’s still willing to guide you.

“Think you can handle it?” he asks. “Get some more water.” he commands, not even letting you answer first. It’s probably the right call, though, you’re hardly going to be accustomed to the feeling of smoke contaminating your insides after one heavy inhale.

You follow his pathing from moments before, getting yourself some water and fresh ice cubes before returning and facing him again. You drink so much; he grabs your wrist and moves the glass away from your lips before you down the whole thing.

He lets out a heavy breath as he holds the blunt and sees how your lips immediately part for him this time without being asked. Fast learner. His thumb pulls at the metal wheel twice, each time it sounds make your eyes flicker further open.

“Breeeathe.” he demands, and you obey. You take it waaaay better this time, holding it for longer after he pulls the lighter away and takes the blunt from your lips. “That’s it, atta girl.” he smiles as you slowly exhale, only coughing a little bit. Your little hands are immediately reaching for the glass of water you set down moments before.

“I feel…” you try and think, eyes darting around the room in search of the right words to use. Your eyes close without your permission, humming happily as you embrace the feeling, a cheery smile visible on your face. “Weird…” you giggle, deeming it the only appropriate word that springs to mind.

“Is that right, baby? Feelin’ weird?”

“Mhmm.” you sigh, dreamily, letting the feeling consume you wholly. You want to melt into the couch beneath your thighs; and you involuntarily begin to lean back into the plush leather before Ryusei stops you. “My eyes are hurting, Ryusei…”

“Mm, I’ll bet. They’re all bloodshot, princess. Think you’re high.” he smirks.

“Wan’ some more.” you tell him, reaching to take the blunt from his hold. He moves his hand away. The fat, brown joint just out of your tired reach. And fuck he can’t stop his cock from twitching when you don that pout. That pretty little pout that you can’t stop yourself from displaying any time you’re disheartened. “P—lea, p-please…” your lower lip juts out further.

“C’mere.” he instructs you, his empty hand patting at his adjacent thigh. He sees the hesitation in your eyes. The little protest lodged in your throat as you think what a bad idea this could be. Why does he want you to sit on his lap? Your heart is racing with possibilities. Is he going to try and kiss you? Or is it simply an easier position for him to help you smoke? “Move, baby, now.” his voice is firm, almost scary. Your movements are slow, but you find yourself moving on his order regardless.

You go to him, but he stops you as you try and sit nicely in his lap. It isn’t quite what he had in mind. He doesn’t want to baby you like the princess you want to be for him. You’re like a ragdoll as he positions you, limbs loose beneath his touch until you realise you’re straddling him. His legs are spread wide, relaxed, and you’re hovering above him a little.

“Open your mouth f’me.” you’re like a robot, complying with each and every command he issues without hesitation.

You’re too good, too perfect. And Ryusei Shidou is quite the opposite; he’ll ruin you if you aren’t careful.

But right now, you couldn’t care less.

Your dewy lips part, wider than they had earlier until Ryusei seems satisfied. He’s relieved you’re only hovering over him, or you’d have definitely felt the way his dick twitched at the sight of your pudgy lips widening for him.

He relaxes, fully, his own eyes becoming more bloodshot as the minutes go by. Weed doesn’t affect him like it used to, not in the way it’s affecting you. But he’s calm. All of his thoughts are collected, and he feels at peace. It’s probably the reason he’s being so brazen and not giving a second thought to the consequences of being with you anymore.

While you’re waiting for his vision to be realised, while you’re waiting for the reason as to why he wants you in this position with your lips spread, he lights up the blunt once again. You watch him through a heavy-lidded stare as he takes a hefty inhale.

You sense him planning something, the cogs whirring sinfully in his mind as he looks between your eyes and your lips as he inhales the smoke deeper and deeper into his lungs. He rests his arm over the rest of the couch, harbouring zero consideration for the potential ash staining the cream carpet below.

He tries to close the distance between your bodies, and you instinctively jolt away from him, your lips clamping shut just as quickly. As much as he wants to smile, to laugh, his lips remain neutral and sealed. His empty hand holds the small of your back. His fingers drift, trailing up the column of your spine. He flattens his palm between your shoulder blades, pushing your face and body closer to his. His right hand remains between your shoulder blades, the other coming around to tug your viscid lower lip until your mouth is ajar. He leans in, closer. The closest he’s ever been to you in the entire time you’ve known him.

He's going to kiss you.

Your heart is thumping, the intense beating, hammering your heart through blood, muscle tissue and flesh. Your eyes close instinctively, and at that, he does smirk.

His eyes alternate between yours, and your gloss covered lips. And then his are ghosting yours, not close enough to touch but not far enough for you to not feel their presence. His gaze becomes heavy, lustful as he observes you. He’s fixated on how you react as he blows the smoke from his lungs into yours.

Your eyes widen as you realise he isn’t kissing you, but your mind is hazy as you realise what he is doing. His lungs shrink as he empties them, but he doesn’t move. He smiles, though, and you fucking feel it. He’s waiting patiently to see just how desperate you are for him to kiss you.

Your breathing is intense. He can hear each breath you take through your nose as you try and compose yourself. You try and calm down and hide your burning shame from him. He knew what you’d assume and chose not to correct you. Just to see you squirm.

But you want to kiss him.

You want him to kiss you.

He chuckles lightly when he sees a nervous little gulp plummet down your throat, he’s sure if he blinked he would have missed it. He wonders if your eyes always vibrate so intensely when you’re nervous.

“Did you like that?” he whispers, his lips still inching away from yours. You feel each and every breath it takes for him to speak that sentence.

“Yeah…”

“Yeah?”

“Mm… mhmm…” you nod, eagerly and yet somehow still awkwardly. “D— Can you do it again?” you whisper. It’s so meek and downright precious he can feel pre fucking ooze out of his tip.

He adjusts his position, nodding, his lips almost catching yours but not quite before he pulls away to smoke some more. Your lips part beautifully and he’s smiling sinisterly yet again. His hand travels from your back to hold the crown of your head, you can’t back away this time, not that you’d want to. He’s keeping you in place as he slowly begins to puff smoke past your desperate lips.

You moan, involuntarily, as you feel your mind cloud and your body grow wearier. But still, you can’t get enough. You can’t fully satiate your desires of intoxication. Not with drugs. Not with attention. Not with touch. You need him. More of him.

“Baby?” you hear him mumble, his lips clumsily toying with yours as he refuses to fully close the gap between them. “I think ya wanna kiss me.”

You squeak, almost, a high pitch whine sounding through your nose as the uncomfortable statement surges through you. Were you so pitifully obvious the whole time? You lean in closer, attempting to close the separation between you. But he pulls away, ever the tease, and he can’t help but relish the whimper that claws its way up your throat.

“You ever even kissed anyone?” he asks, closing the gap once again. “Y’know, since you’re such a good girl.”

You feel the tips of your ears and face begin to sear with heat, embarrassment flooding through your blood. You nod, defiantly, doing all you can to assure him you’re not the big loser he seems to think you are.

“I have… ‘ve had boyfriends before… Ryu…” you tell him, though it’s still a little humiliating.

“So,” he starts, his hand holds your hip as he adjusts himself slightly. Thumb stroking your side calmly, despite his cock driving ever so gently into your core as he moves. Not hard enough to set off alarm bells, but just enough to leave a lasting impression. He bites lip and releases it just as fast as his eyes rake over you, and you feel so small under his stare, despite him being the one looking up at you. His fingers weave and comb through your hair until he gets a tight enough grip. Your noses are touching before he tilts his head, your lips barely lingering on one another’s as you each fight against fully committing. “If I kiss you right now, it’s gonna be worth my time?” he whispers.

In truth, it’s been a while since you kissed anyone. You haven’t had a boyfriend since high school and that seems like a lifetime ago now. But you don’t want to go another second without feeling his lips fully pressed against yours. So, you nod. It’s weak and unconvincing, but you nod anyway.

It’s enough for him. In truth, he wouldn’t have cared if you’d never been kissed before. He’d be more than happy to teach you, though he’s sure he’ll teach you plenty anyway. He’s going to turn you into a masterpiece; one that has been created only for him to enjoy.

His lips slot against yours and it’s like an explosion. You’ve been fucking starved for him, and you can barely remember to breathe as it intensifies. Suctioning sounds repeat as you kiss without stopping. Neither of you remember to come up for air until you’re gasping.

Your lips part divinely as his tongue pushes past them and it’s so rapturous as your little wet muscle meets his. He groans, loudly, as he licks and swipes all while you’re moaning pathetically into his mouth. He bets your soaked, he’s rock hard and leaking like a virgin getting his first hand job after all.

“Stick out your tongue.” he tells you, and like always, you do as you’re told. He licks at it, swirls his own tongue around it. He sucks it until he’s heady with lust.

His body collapses against the back of the couch, and like the perfect pet you follow him. You can’t stop making out with him now. You can’t possibly get enough. You doubt it would even be enough to crawl inside his skin and live out the rest of your days there.

You’re addicted to him.

He pushes your body down so that your crotch is fully pressed into his. The feeling of his throbbing cock almost entirely against your panty-clad mound is a surprise to say the least, you hadn’t expected it and your surprised expression gives you away instantly. But he doesn’t comment right away, instead, he grinds his crotch against yours as you carry on kissing. Your breath fans across his face, you’re delirious from the sensation of him being against you like this, you’ve never known anything quite like it.

“Feel what you’re doin’ to me?” he chuckles, parting away from you enough to look up at you again and lick his lips. But you chase him, you think you might stop breathing if you deny yourself of him. Your tongue pushes past the seam of his lips, and of course he doesn’t object. He feels your little wet muscle searching for something, and he can’t contain the amused scoff when he realises you were tracking down his gold tooth, the tip of your tongue licking it from behind all of the way to the front until you reach his gums. “Fuck… you’re filthy.” he informs you before kissing you again.

You giggle before he yanks at your hair. Flirtatious laughter being forced into a tantalising gasp, your head angled so that you’re looking up at the ceiling above. The column of your neck is almost enough to make him cum. It’s so fucking bare. So pure and untainted. He wants nothing more than to sink his teeth into you. To cover you in hickeys and bite marks so that everyone knows what he fucking did to you.

But he knows, deep down, it isn’t worth it. It isn’t worth the questions and the bullshit and the drama. Not this time, anyway. Instead, he leaves gentle kisses and soft suckles against your skin. His tongue leaves fat, wet stripes over your throat and pulse point, hot breath fanning over them between kisses. You’re keening for him as his lips begin to ascend. You’re shuddering against him as he breathes heavily, deliciously, into your ear. His hand drifts to squeeze your tit over your crop top as he continues to breathe thickly into your ear canal. The intensity forcing your skin to break out in goosebumps.

You mewl, and it’s a fucking siren song as he sucks on your earlobe. He drives his covered cock up into you as he takes the cartilage between his teeth, alternating between that and sucking like he’s trying to get milk from nipple.

“Does anyone else know what a naughty little thing you are?” he talks directly into your ear, thumb rubbing over the thin material of your top, your hardened nipples unfortunately hidden behind your push up bra. “Or do you only get like this f’me?”

“Jus’ you…” you sigh, your arm wraps around his neck so that you can hold his head the same way he had yours. Tiny little fingers toy with blonde and pink tufts, he groans slightly at the comforting feeling.

“Darlin’… you know you have to pay, don’tcha?” he asks. It’s so out of the blue, you push away from him. He grins as he watches the confusion and horror take over your facial expression. You were so blissfully at peace, lost in the feeling of his lips and his touch all over your body. “Drugs aren’t free, y’know.”

“B-But…” you think, panicking, “I— nii-chan only left me enough for emergencies…” you tell him, hoping he’ll take pity on you. He offers a fake little pout, tutting at your excuse. It’s so feeble and pathetic and he loves how easy it is to mess with you.

“Awe, baby.” he offers faux sympathy, his thumb stroking over your cheek yet again. “You better do what I say then, yeah? Gonna have to keep bein’ a good girl f’me, ‘n then we can forget the whoooole thing.”

“What do you want me to—”

He thrusts his hips up, and you lose balance, falling perfectly into his arms. He tugs at your crop top, urging you to take it off. You start pulling it upwards, though it’s too slow for his liking. He yanks it over your head, getting a quick eyeful of your tits and aqua blue bra before he sucks hard into the fat flesh of your breasts.

You’re too busy moaning, rolling your hips against him to notice he has unclasped your bra with one hand. He pulls carefully at the straps, ridding you of the material covering part of your modesty. He bites his lip and breathes heavily as he ogles them. You feel the way his cock pulses against your cunt.

“S’fuckin’ pretty—” he muses. You feel different, now. You’re fully on display for him and you are completely at his mercy. Your rational mind is telling you to give him the emergency money your brother left and send him on his way. But sadly for you, your poor neglected pussy wants him to stay and have his way with you. “You’ve gotta suck my cock, baby. Now.” he demands.

Your heartrate sky-rockets. Things are moving so fast you can barely process it at all. You look down between your thighs and see the ever-growing bulge in his shorts. Can you argue with him? Reason with him? It doesn’t matter either way, you’re already sliding carefully onto the ground and getting down on your knees between his spread legs. You aren’t sure where to start. Everything you think about doing dies a sudden death with each new idea that comes to the forefront of your mind.

“Pull it out, hurry up.”

Little hands shake as nimble fingers grip onto the waistband of his shorts. You pull and you pull and he lifts his body to help in your efforts. He almost grunts as his cock springs free, pearlescent pre leaking a ton from his twitching slit.

“Mmmm…” he moans as he grips his cock at the base, shaking it a few times so that the tip hits your nose softly, soupy liquid sticking to you as he does. “Be a good girl, show me how bad you can be.”

There’s not a single universe where you’re successfully concealing your apprehension from him, though he thinks nothing of it. He thinks you’re nervous because you’ve had a crush on him for quite some time now and you don’t want to disappoint him. Your hands carry on shaking as you grab onto his length. He’s huge, both of your little hands are holding him in your grasp and there’s still more of his thickness unable to be held.

You think to start off you should clean the tip; you lick and lave over his throbbing head and your face scrunches as you register the warm tanginess permeating your tastebuds.

His body almost dissolves into the couch as you start to take more and more of him. He shoos your hands away and holds himself so that you can balance your hands on his thighs. His free hand holds your head, forcefully attempting to shove you further and further down on his length until you’re choking on him. You’re spitting and sputtering just like you had when you smoked.

“S’cute.” he moans. The light praise encourages you to keep trying for him. So, you do, try. You try to give him mind blowing head. You try to remember to use your tongue to keep him nice and stimulated as you bob up and down on his cock. You even remember one of your friends telling you that squeezing your thumbs stops you from gagging as much.

But it’s all in vain.

Ryusei hisses, flinching from an amalgamation of too much teeth and not enough spit. He snatches you away by your hair, seeing red veins stabbing through the whites of your eyes as they begin to gloss over. A watery sheen telling him of your deepest shame and embarrassment.

“Are you a fucking virgin, baby?” he wonders. His cock spills more pre as he sees tears fall from your eyes and cascade down your cheeks. The little sniffles you can’t stop are a symphony to him and he can see the way your throat is choking back audible cries. He can hear the little croaks trapped there, though, poor thing. “Never sucked a cock before, have you?”

“’m s-so sorry.” you stop fighting your losing battle as you start to cry, utterly humiliated that your secret has come to light because you did such a terrible job giving head. “I’ll— g-get my purse ‘n then you can just g-o. I’m sor—”

He leans forward, hand snaking between your thighs to cup your cunt. “Never had a cock in her, huh? What about fingers? Anybody ever ate your pussy, sweetheart?”

“N-Nothing!” you speak, almost defiantly though that wasn’t your intention. You’re feeling vulnerable and defensive. You’re embarrassed, and he has his hand somewhere nobody has ever touched you before. “Only kissed before…”

“Mmm… no wonder you’re so wet.” he speaks, though he isn’t seeking a reply. He’s simply musing to himself. He should have known, really. When would you get a chance to fuck and learn how to suck cock when your brother practically holds you hostage in this shit hole apartment? “I won’t fuck you, today. You’re not gonna suck my cock either. Come here.” he continues, he grabs both of your wrists and drags you back to your previous position with little effort. You’re above him, again, your thighs straddling his. “Stand up, actually.” he orders, you obey.

Your tits are still exposed and you’re standing in nothing but your pleated mini skirt and silk panties beneath. He twirls his finger, encouraging you to do a spin for him. You complete it, quickly, your skirt raising ever so slightly and exposing a peak of pink silk before you find a neutral position once more.

“Slower.” he tells you, so you spin again. Slower, just for him. “Stop.” he tells you when your back is facing him.

“Is something wrong, ah—!” you yelp as he ruthlessly kicks the inside of your ankles until your legs are spread apart from each other.

“Bend over, put your hands on the table.” he instructs you. You’re slow in doing so, not wanting to rush this time; though you still feel your heartbeat in your throat. Your skirt rides up, the pink silk completely covering your most precious secret. Though he grunts at the sight, unable to control himself. His jaw clenches and bubbles at the sight of brunette curls peaking from the sides of your panties. “Holy shit, fuck.” he sibilates, thick long fingers hooking into the pink silk. He wastes no time tearing them from your body, shoving them into the pocket of his hoody.

He grabs the globes of your ass, kneading the flesh under your little skirt and parting your pussy lips in the process. He’s enamoured by the sight, the way your arousal has soaked your pubic hair. It’s shimmering, he can’t help but to touch and toy with your pubes when they’re taunting him like this. He can’t remember the last time he fucked a girl with a cute bush of hair like yours. It’s always fucking waxed and landing strips and of course he won’t complain, but seeing your intimate form in all of it’s glory like this… you’re perfect. You’re fucking holy.

He pushes a single finger hastily into your wet hole. You almost fall forward; you cry out from the feeling of being stretched for the very first time.

“Never shave this fucking pussy, yeah? Leave it like this f’me.”

You don’t reply, mind spiralling from the feeling of pain and pleasure as he burrows his finger in deeper and begins to curl it when he feels that perfect little spongy spot buried deep. Your cheeks are stained with glittering tears, the overbearing living room light not offering you any courtesy in that regard. Your tear-stricken face will be exposed to him, eventually.

Will he care?

Will he show concern?

Will he be sympathetic since he is the cause?

It appears not. He holds no consideration as he pummels a second finger inside of your gummy interior. He scissors them again and again and again until you’re practically screaming. It feels worse when he pushes against the spot. That spot that blinds your fucking vision.

“A-Ah. Aaah—!” you sob, scream, anything your body can physically project in your current state. It almost feels like an out of body experience. “Ouch! Ow, R-Ryusei. Hurts! Hurtin’ me—!” you explain. He wraps an arm around your midsection, fingers still cosy deep inside. He pulls you back, your spine flush against his chest. His hand moves from your stomach to your mouth, silencing your cries and whimpers as his fingers carry on battering your g-spot.

“Shhh, it’ll feel good in a minute.” he informs you. “Rub your clit, baby, show me how you touch this virgin cunt.” your entire body becomes scalding in an instant, the lewd language and very notion that you masturbate filling you with unease. But without question, your fingers find the swelling nub between your pussy and begin to rub and rub.

He rests his forehead against your shoulder, smiling down as he hears painful cries turn to libertine moans. His smothering hand frees your airways, allowing you to send your mewling into the airspace freely. He squeezes his cock, hard, and begins to masturbate himself. A sticky, clacking sound filling the room. It’s mixing in with the sound of your squelching cunt.

Your eyes cross as he finds a perfect rhythm with you. You’re sure you look like a bona fide whore, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You’re balancing on the balls of your feet with your legs spread open wide, putting your cunt on full display. Your left hand digs into the leather arm rest beside you, the only form of balance you have.

You’re so fucking loud. He’s never heard anyone scream or moan as loudly in his life, though he’s one to talk. He’s on the verge of cumming after so much torment and he couldn’t be more vocal if he tried.

“D-Do you want all the neighbours to hear what a little slut you are? Want ‘em to tell your brother you got fucked stupid while he was gone?” he asks, it’s rhetorical, of course. He doesn’t care that you’re being loud. He just wants to torment you, tease you and build that unadulterated shame that you’ve had embedded in you your whole life. You are the product of repressed sexual urges. Would you have let a drug dealer strip you and play with your cunt if you weren’t so desperate and needing to be toyed with?

“’m gonna c-cum. Fuck, Ryusei! Cumming f-for you—!” you cry, your walls squeezing his fingers until they feel close to breaking. “Oh my god…” you sob. Your poor little virgin slot throbbing and pulsating around his thick heavy fingers and you continue to cum for what feels like a lifetime. His curling fingers dragging out the feeling for as long as humanly possible.

“Hah- haah- ah, fuck!” he finishes, white, gluey fluid shooting up your back. He fucks his fist until he drains every last drop from his swollen balls. He admires his work, smearing the remaining residue on your ass cheek and your skirt. He wonders if you’ll remember to wash it, God forbid your stupid brother find a cum stain on it.

He scrapes his cum onto his fingers and orders you to face him. He brings his sperm to your lips, expecting you to know what to do.

“Eat.” he says. You hesitate. He wants you to what? It’s a liquid, you can’t eat it. Does he want you to lick his fingers? Put them in your mouth? He’s sick of waiting, however, forcing them by your lips until the bitter taste coats your tongue. “Eat it.” he looks at you with venom in his stare.

You hold his hand sweetly with both of yours. He watches you as you suck his fingers, internally thinking how much better you are doing this than you are at sucking cock. He bears his teeth, the golden one glimmering in your eye once again as you continue to clean the cum from his digits.

“Thaaaat’s it, good girl. It’ll get the taste of weed out of your mouth.” he tells you. You finish sucking, releasing his fingers with a gentle pop before placing his hand back on your thigh.

He allows his fingers to lightly caress your skin. The pads carefully glide over you as you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him for the final time during this encounter. But he wanted to fuck you, didn’t he? He wanted you to suck him off properly, too. He’ll let it go for today, but this certainly won’t be the one and only time you’ll bare it all for him.

You still owe him for the weed, after all.

He thinks he might set up a depraved little payment plan for you.

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transmutationisms · 4 months

Note

can you elaborate some on how the formulation of comphet sucks? i’m not super familiar with it & i trust your thoughts

well i am just some guy blogging also you can read the essay here if you're interested.

there is a clear streak of sexual conservatism that runs through the text (eg, the equation of bdsm with violence & 'vanilla' sex with a 'natural' & intrinsically 'feminine' sexuality that is being stifled; the failure to contextualise sex work as work; the attempt to differentiate gay men from lesbians on the grounds that gay men have too much casual sex & large age gaps in their relationships...) & these are not just local issues because they're all connected to the fact that rich is fundamentally uninterested in questioning gender (that is, the construction of womanhood itself) the way she is in questioning heterosexuality.

her formulation therefore always falls back on the notion of a shared biological basis for a 'female' existence, one that is continually violated & encroached upon by the male violence that oppresses it. to understand 'compulsory heterosexuality' in light of a concept of gender as biological, transhistorical, & inescapable thus becomes a call to reclaim a kind of mythologised prelapsarian 'female–female' relationship that is being artificially suppressed & oppressed under conditions of patriarchy. the question rich raises as animating the paper is: would women choose heterosexuality if they were not constrained into it? but never is this category 'women' historicised or problematised in the same way (glibly we might ask: would people choose womanhood, or indeed manhood, if we were not constrained into them...?); for rich the sexes simply exist; the question lies only in the correct relations between & within them.

i don't really find her idea of a 'lesbian continuum' is particularly useful & i think it elides discussion of the material factors that enforce heterosexuality with a more idealist, psychologised discourse about the comparative emotional 'valuation' of basically any interpersonal relationship. but that move away from material analysis also just characterises the whole essay, really, because again, rich takes as a point of departure the presumption of the reality & primacy of the sexgender binary whilst trying to analyse the artificiality of heterosexuality alone. really this is just business as usual in terms of talking out both sides of your mouth for radical feminism though, & indeed for any feminism reliant on essentialisms at its core.

#adrienne rich

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paper-crab · 5 months

Text

It’s cold

summary: it’s late and it’s cold outside and matt is avoiding your questions

warnings: unintentionally a bit suggestive

wc: 998

“What are you doing up?” Matt asks you. He’s visibly shaking from the chilly Boston weather, but he’s wrapped in a hoodie and a blanket. He lifts the blanket up, creating a spot for you on the little outdoor loveseat.

“I could ask you the same question,” You roll your eyes at him, taking a seat.

“I’m enjoying the night.”

“Yeah because you enjoy oh-so much.”

“Well, aren’t you just a little bundle of sunshine tonight.” He says, sarcasm dripping from his voice. Despite his lingering words, he scoots closer to you. “What can I say?” You shrug, leaning into his body in an attempt to conserve some warmth. The chill is beginning to seep through the blanket, and you understand why Matt was shivering earlier.

“It’s not every day you get to freeze to death with a stinky guy.” You tease, chuckling at his bemused expression.

“Hey! Where did that come from?” Matt yawns, leaning his head on your shoulder. His teeth are still chattering, cold nipping at both of your covered skin.

“If you’re so cold, why don’t you go inside?”

“Why don’t you?”

“Who said I was that cold?” He lifts his head from your shoulder, giving you a knowing glance. Your body is shaking too. “Okay, maybe I am a little cold.” You say, trying to remain a facade of indifference despite the chill.

“What are you doing out here anyway?”

“I told you, I’m enjoying the night.”

“None of that bullshit Matt, what’s going on?”

“You first, what’s running through that pretty little head of yours?” He says, pulling the blanket up to his chin and snuggling up more.

“I asked first.”

“I asked second,” Matt softly murmurs, giving you a challenging look. “Guess neither of us are getting answers.”

You sigh at his difficulty, leaning into him even more. Huddling together is doing wonders for your collective warmth. You feel like penguins, getting so close together.

“I’ve just been… thinking.”

“Wow, that’s a first.” He grins. You maneuver to punch his arm.

“Hey, it happens! Occasionally…” You whisper the last part, shaking your head at his antics. “But seriously, just needed some fresh air and quiet. You know how loud Chris plays his music at night. I thought the cold would help clear my head.”

“Has it?”

“What?”

“Has it cleared your head?”

You clear your throat. “Wouldn’t you like to know,”

“I would.”

“Well, I’d like to know why you’re out here.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” He smiles, proud of himself for using your jokes against you. “Yes, actually. That’s why I asked. Now get on with it or I’m going to leave you to freeze by yourself.”

As they huddle together, the tension rises. Matt hums, seemingly trying to formulate sentences and get out what he wants to say.

“You know,” He starts, his tone edged with curiosity and a hint of frustration. “Sometimes I wonder what you’re hiding.”

“What I’m hiding?” You retort, laughing in his face. “Yeah, I’m the one doing a lot of hiding right now.” Your face stiffens under his gaze. You are hiding something, but right now, it seems like Matt is hiding more.

“Maybe not right now,” Matt counters, his voice softer, “But I’ve seen it before. You deflect.”

“Like you’re doing right now?”

“Touché.”

The accusation lingers in the air, making you feel slightly uncomfortable. Matt can tell, a mix of defense and vulnerability appear in your eyes; like you’re putting your guard up. Despite knowing he’s right, you feel like you’re being too exposed to him of all people. “You can't expect me to open up if you won’t do the same.” You say, turning away from him. You’re prepared to stand and leave, but you feel him grab you, weighing you down.

“I was thinking about you when I came down.” His gaze softens and his grip loosens, letting you know you’re free to go.

You don’t.

“You were thinking about me?” Matt lets out a puff of air, white coming out of his mouth because of the cold. His gaze remains steady, hesitation in his voice. “Yeah, I just… wanted to check on you.”

“Why?” You’re unable to hide the confusion you feel from his words, and as the admission sinks in, your chest feels a bit lighter.

“Because… I care about you,” He nervously smiles, voice barely above a whisper. His stare shifts, hopping from star to star. In that quiet moment, there’s a million thoughts running through your mind, the most prominent one being ‘I want to kiss him’.

For a brief moment, the world around you seems to fade away. The soft glow of the moonlight shines between you two, no sounds around able to take away from the ambience. Even though you’ve had this revelation, you don’t move.

“I care about you too, more than you know.”

“I might have an idea.” He replies softly, a gentle understanding written over his face. While he might have hesitated earlier, he refused to let this moment slip from his grasp. “Can I kiss you?” He’s mere centimeters from your face, breaths mingling in the nippy night air. Your chest tightens in anticipation as you lean even closer to him, whispering “Yes.” against his lips.

In quiet understanding, he leans forward. Refusing to take a peck, he deepens the kiss, effectively stealing your breath.

There’s almost a magnetic pull guiding you together, an almost imperceptible sensation courses through you. Matt refuses to let any of that slip away, so the second he can breathe again, he’s right back to kissing you.

The chilly air fades into insignificance. Matt is the only thing that matters right now.

“Can we go inside?” He mutters, shuddering. “Yeah it’s cold dumbass, why would you come outside in the first place?” You say, pressing another kiss to his lips.

“Why would you follow me?” He picks up the blanket, extending a hand to pull you up from the loveseat.

“I’d follow you anywhere.”

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #matthew sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo

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chronicallycouchbound · 9 months

Text

Intelligence Doesn't Equal Morality

Intellect is rooted in ableist systems and stupidity and intelligence are pointless social constructs that don't relate to morals or character.

I try to be a pretty good person, I fight for human rights, I regularly engage in mutual aid, and I care for my community. I try to do the right thing and support causes I care about and make positive changes in the world.

But I also am not very smart. I have several neurodevelopmental disorders, as well as cognitive disabilities. I can’t do simple, basic math, it’s hard for me to remember facts or algorithms, I rely entirely on spellcheck and speech-to-text to write, I failed many classes in high school and I barely passed with a low GPA, I had low pSAT scores and I never took the SATs. I moved around a lot all through school starting in third grade, and I missed a lot of basic fundamentals in learning (like how to do division and multiplication) so when I went to a different school they had already passed it and expected me to know. After my TBI, I could barely read AFTER I was cleared from my “concussion” symptoms because letters and words would flip around and I’d get headaches. Which still happens sometimes.

A lot of people see me as smart because I've learned a lot of academic language and can formulate thoughts into cohesive posts. But I lack a lot of necessary skills and rely on my caretakers to assist me. Things like budgeting and planning are extremely difficult for me. If I need to do simple addition or subtraction, even with a calculator, I quickly get confused and struggle. I forget basic information about myself all the time, let alone other subjects. I'm talking, has to check my ID for my birthday type confused. Doesn't know my name or address or what year it is confused. It happens daily, sometimes multiple times a day. Being able to type out posts like this often takes weeks and many adaptive tools to get there. Focusing is extremely difficult on many fronts, severe chronic pain, ADHD, dissociation, fatigue, migraines, and TBI, are just some of the contributing factors. I struggle daily with many things because of my lack of intellect.

I’m also privileged in the fact that I had some access to education as a homeless youth, that I had some supports in place to help me (towards the end of school), that I was somewhat able-bodied at the time and could walk or bike to and from school when the school system didn’t provide transportation. I was fortunate to have a chance to succeed, and I’m proud that I graduated high school because it was a difficult task for me, and others often aren’t offered that chance or get accommodations. I almost didn’t and I dropped out many times before graduation. I passed on sheer luck and what little privileges I had.

That all being said, me being stupid (reclaiming it here) doesn't make me a bad person. I don't hurt people because I can't do math. I may mess up things or get confused but it doesn't make me want to harm others.

We often (wrongfully) equate morals with intellect. Being ‘stupid’, ‘dumb’, or an ‘idiot’ doesn’t automatically make someone a bad person. Plenty of evil, awful, and abusive people are extremely intelligent.

I see this most notably with people advocating for IQ tests to be able to vote. Often from left-leaning people, in hopes it'll make the right (that they view as unintelligent), unable to vote. The reality is, it just hurts some of our most vulnerable members of the community while not actively doing anything to restrict some of the most dangerous members of our community-- those who know what they're doing to harm others and deliberately doing so. My voice matters, and I speak up against injustice and participate in dismantling oppressive systems. Taking away my right to vote won't make the right stop oppressing minorities (which also puts a lot of faith into the two-party voting system, which is a post for another day).

Additionally, legislative measures that discriminate against intellectually disabled people such as IQ tests for voting are also rooted in racism and classism.

Yes, education can be a vital tool when it comes to addressing discrimination and creating safer communities. But the kind of education that is measured with an IQ test (or any test) isn't the same. Building compassion and caring for others can (and should) happen at any IQ level. We can all practice this, we can all participate.

It harms our communities and stagnates our progress when we equate intelligence with high morals.

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onlymingyus · 11 months

Text

Easy, Tiger

pairing; kwon soonyoung (hoshi) x reader

genre; smut

warnings; oral (m receiving), public sexual act, exhibitionism, cum eating (ig if you count swallowing), pet names

w/c; 1.4k and some change

requested; no

a/n; happy birthday to my favorite tiger! this idea came from dk posting these wonderful pictures of hoshi from his birthday post and then @junkissed and @duhnova saying something that made me go....hm

before continuing remember reblogs are incredibly important and please read how to support me here

You smile watching Soonyoung tip back the glass of soju. He looked happy and that was all you could really ask for on his birthday. Reaching for your own soju glass you tip it back before laughing when you feel your boyfriend’s hand grab your free one.

Soonyoung was full of all of his favorite foods and he had gotten to spend the evening with his favorite person in the entire world. Lacing his fingers with yours, Soonyoung watches you put your glass back on the table before you finally meet his eyes.

Neither of you were too far gone. Just a single bottle of soju shared between the two of you, but it was still just enough to make the conversation easy. Tilting your head you lean your jaw on your free hand as you feel Soonyoung’s thumb circling your palm.

“Quick, name one thing you’d want for your birthday that you think you’d never get?”

Soonyoung laughs into a snort at the question. His eyes narrow softly, he lets out a sigh before answering as quickly as he can.

“Ah…fuck, head by the river.”

Raising a brow, you watch Soonyoung seem to realize what he had said. The warmth spreads over his cheeks and you watch your sweet sometimes chaotic boyfriend try to revert to his introverted self. His shoulders pull tight as a laugh slips from his lips, an explanation on the tip of his tongue.

“I–I mean, I’m just kidding. That’s an at home thing. Behind the closed doors of our bedroom thing, I’m just drunk. Don’t listen to me.”

Smiling, you lift your head and brush your fingers over Soonyoung’s jaw causing the man to shiver under your touch. His eyes fall on yours and Soonyoung can’t help but to swallow hard knowing that look in your eye.

“Let’s go. Still a few hours of your birthday left.”

Soonyoung knew you loved him and were adventurous. He knew that the two of you had talked about fantasies before, and that exhibitionism had come up more than once but he never thought he would find himself actually in this situation.

Shivering to the feeling of the tip of your tongue barely grazing the tip of his cock, Soonyoung whines your name finally looking down at you on your knees on the walking path. His heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest. He was so excited and nervous at the same time.

“Baby…this is crazy. I love it, fuck I love it so much, but what if someone walks–sees us?”

Smiling against Soonyoung’s cock, you glance up at the handsome man giving him a mischievous look that causes him to feel weak on his feet.

“Do you want them to?”

Starting to speak, Soonyoung doesn’t really know what his answer is, but you stop him from having to formulate an explanation by wrapping your warm mouth around him. Closing his eyes, Soonyoung groans quietly. You were so good at this, and it was clouding his mind to the point Soonyoung could almost forget where he was. If it weren’t for the constant sound of the river behind him, the brush of the wind though his hair, and the honk of distant horns, Soonyoung would completely let down his guard.

“Oh, shit…babe. I–God, it feels so good but, ah!”

You were listening to him. You knew that Soonyoung was nervous, but it was so late and you were in such a secluded part of the path you weren’t that worried someone would come by. If they did, at this point you weren’t sure you’d care. Taking more of Soonyoung into your mouth, you moan around his length feeling how the girth of his cock stretches your lips. You can’t help but to feel your underwear becoming damp with your own arousal at the memories of how he stretches you in the same way every time he fucks you.

Sliding his hand over the top of your head, Soonyoung leans back against the railing behind him. His nails dig into the wood as he closes his eyes for a moment before he knows he wants to look back down at you. The moment he does, Soonyoung can’t help the groan that forms in his throat or how he thrusts towards your mouth causing you to gag around him.

He loves the way you look on your knees for him. You were always perfect, but it was moments like this when you were completely vulnerable for him, his cock down your throat or buried deep inside of you that Soonyoung had burned into his mind. This would be something he would never forget.

Pulling back, you let your tongue press to the underside of Soonyoung’s cock to run along the pulsing vein that told you everything you wanted to know about the man standing in front of you. He was getting so close. Sitting back on your heels, you meet Soonyoung’s eyes as you catch your breath.

The man watches your tongue run along your lips as your hand moves over his wet cock. Gasping out your name, Soonyoung knew he was leaking pre-cum obscenely over your hand, but he couldn’t find a reason to care until the sound of people talking nearby drew his attention.

You watch Soonyoung start to panic, his stomach sucks-in dramatically as he takes a deep breath. You can only smile at him lifting your finger to your lips to tell him to be quiet as Soonyoung shakes his head at you mouthing, ‘Are you crazy?’

“Easy, Tiger. Eyes on me, hmm?”

Soonyoung scoffs, his eyes staying on you like you had instructed him. He does his best to keep his groan quiet when you take him back into your mouth. Logic was telling him that you should both stop in case the people he heard got any closer but your soft, warm mouth around him caused him to throw any logic he had into the river behind him.

“Please…so close.”

Moaning around Soonyoung, you roll your tongue around his head as your hand twists at his base. Glancing up at him to meet his eyes, you smirk before sinking down over Soonyoung to take as much of him into your mouth as you can. You feel your boyfriend’s nails raking over your scalp and hear the sound of his groan getting caught in his throat.

You knew exactly how to get what you wanted from Soonyoung and how to give him what he wanted. So, when you looked at Soonyoung like that and went down on him the way you did, the man didn’t stand a chance. Soonyoung saw white briefly and the river sounded like blood rushing to his ears as thick warm cum spilled into your mouth.

Sitting back on your heels once again, you swallow what you can of Soonyoung’s cum as he finally opens his eyes to look down at you. You made it difficult for him to catch his breath by just looking at you, but with each delicate kitten lick to catch any remaining drips of cum, Soonyoung wondered if you were trying to make it impossible for him to reach his 28th birthday.

Carefully slipping himself back into his pants, Soonyoung then helps you to your feet before pulling you to his lips. Groaning on your lips, the man can’t help but to enjoy the taste of himself when it was on your lips. It is only then, when he is lost in your embrace and your kiss that he can’t seem to care when the voices he had heard earlier grow closer and pass by.

Smiling on his lips, you nudge your nose against Soonyoung’s causing him to laugh just as you do. Your arms around his shoulders, your boyfriend sighs on your lips before leaning his head back so he can meet your eyes furrowing his brows with a longing look into your eyes.

“Can we go home? I think by the time we get there I can return the favor…and we won’t have an audience.”

Laughing again, you nod making Soonyoung smile, his hand moving to take yours.

“Sure, but you don’t have to return the favor. It’s your birthday Soonyoung, and that was your wild birthday wish. I was simply giving you what you wanted.

Shaking his head, Soonyoung pulls you closer to him as he walks, a breath falling from his lips in a whisper about how crazy you are.

“You said something I thought I’d never get. I didn’t think we’d end up at the river with my pants at my knees.”

Smiling brightly, you glance at Soonyoung wiggling your brows.

“Mm, well…you are welcome. Happy Birthday, Tiger.”

#hoshi smut #seventeen smut #svthub #svt smut #happy hoshi day #soonyoung smut #hoshi x reader #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #soonyoung x reader #hoshi fanfic #seventeen fanfic #svt fanfic #soonyoung fanfic

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hrryshoney · 2 months

Note

I dunno if it’s horny thoughts you want but I’m ovulating rn so its all I have

like actually I want Matty to uh. fuck my face like it’s my cunt like. filthy nasty. like my head hanging off the side of the bed and he can see his cock going down my throat. and also record it so I can watch it every day.

babes it’s me, ofc i want horny thoughts! (also twins we are synced lol)

warnings below: mouth fucking, so oral (m receiving), recording during sex, maybe mean dom matty a lil, degradation, praise, dirty talk, spit in mouth, rough, again short and not proofread :( my legacy

“Want me to what, baby? Think you’ll have to speak up for me.” He leaned in, turning his head as if telling you to speak in his ear. The smirk on Matty’s face was enough to tell you that he did hear you. He just wanted to hear you say it again. You were still in your bra and panties, and Matty was shirtless with his pants around his ankles. You felt too covered but bare at the same time with the way his eyes were piercing you.

You felt bashful now, having to repeat the filthy thought that’s been in your head since he’d started pumping his cock in front of you. Exaggerating his moans and throwing his head back, your punishment of sorts. No touching, just watching. You squeaked out something, and now regret was filling you. Because Matty heard it, and he surely wouldn’t let it go. “S’nothing.”

He clicked his tongue, shaking his head in disapproval. “Now’s not the time to go shy on me, sweetheart. You can act modest later.” He grinned, taking another step forward. His cock was still in his hand. You looked down to see him, somehow, even harder in his palm. You thought you could feel yourself soaking your panties. “Say it.”

Matty’s fingers were tracing some pattern on your bicep repeatedly. His smile was too wide for it to be nothing, and you tried to focus to feel what it was. As you were about to formulate your response for him, you figured it out. The distinct curve of an ‘S’, then an ‘L’- and you knew. He was spelling SLUT, and it made you whimper out loud. You were caught. There was no use in running. And even so, you liked the chase. “Want you to fuck my face, please.” You gave him your best doe eyes, fluttering your lashes as you looked up at him.

Matty groaned, his eyes rolling back in his head as he squeezed his cock. He grabbed your arm, bringing you to the bed. As you landed, you squeezed your thighs together for friction. His fingers grasped at your thigh, pulling your legs apart forcefully. “No, open your fucking legs. You’re gonna suck me off and lay here aching, I’ll tie your legs apart if I need to.” You whined, his words only turning you on more. You obeyed him nonetheless, legs spread wide so the wet patch on your light grey panties was visible. You could even see your hard nipples through the padding of your bra.

“Yes, sir.” You chewed on your bottom lip, waiting for his next move. He walked to the other side of the bed, letting his knees hit the frame. Matty’s eyes darkened as he looked at you. Like he was trying to figure out what to do with you.

“Let your head hang off the side.” He said suddenly, and confusion filled your expression. He looked at you stoically, raising his eyebrows as you stayed still.

“I don’t..” You trailed off, but Matty’s hand wrapped around your ankle. He pulled you into place as you let out a squeak. Your neck was resting on the edge of the bed with the rest of your head dangling off. “Don’t know what you can’t understand, baby. Gonna fuck your throat like you wanted so bad.” Matty’s palm caressed the expanse of your throat, letting his cock rest on your lips. “Tap my thigh if you need me to stop, okay?” He leaned down, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You smiled and nodded, feeling your face get hot. You opened your mouth, sticking your tongue out for his cock. Matty was big, and you didn’t know how you were going to take him at this angle. As he prodded at your lips, you tasted the salty flavor of precum coat your tongue. He pushed it inside your mouth, starting slow.

You hollowed your cheeks around him, but allowed him to do the rest of the work. He was fucking your mouth after all, that was the whole point. You swirled your tongue around his tip as he pulled out, thrusting himself in your mouth again. Thank God you didn’t have a terrible gag reflex. Matty groaned out above you.

“I’ll use your fucking mouth like it’s a cunt. Nice and warm for me, all your holes are just so perfect.” Matty babbled in a drunken haze, pleasure filling his brain. He gripped your neck lightly, pushing himself in even more. He felt your throat open for him, and he thrusted his hips. You jerked slightly from the sudden movement, but regained your composure quickly. Everything you did had Matty moaning even more, the vibrations he felt on his cock were too good. “This is what you’re made for, take my cock down your little throat.”

You moaned around the base of him, and he pulled out an inch just to push all the way back in. You were breathing through your nose, letting him occupy your mouth fully. His hand came to the top of your head, and he gripped on the hair there. Drool was accumulating on his dick from the position he had you in, making the whole thing messy. As he went to thrust into you again, he saw something that had him clenching his teeth and throwing his head back.

He spoke through gritted teeth, “Dick too big for you, honey? Fucking- shit. See my imprint through your throat. Such a good girl.” And you wished you could see what Matty was seeing. What had him going so feral that he finally picked up his rhythm. Now, relentlessly using your throat. Thrusting into your mouth and pulling your hair. All that could be heard were his whimpers and the sound of your mouth getting fucked by him. Garbled moans that only egged him on. Sadist.

As if he could read your mind, Matty’s next words had you struggling to nod around his cock. A lame thumbs-up that you threw to let him know that, yes, you wanted that. “Can I take a video, baby? So I can show you how fucking good you take my cock?” And with your immediate agreement, he was reaching for his phone on your shared nightstand. He swiped to his camera app, and you heard the ping that indicated he started the recording.

You swirled your tongue again, swallowing around his cock. He whined lowly, knowing you must be showing off for the camera. He started to move his hips again, regaining his rhythm. And, presumably, the print of his cock down your throat. “Like a pornstar, baby. My little model.” He groaned out, focusing on your image through the video. You unhollowed your cheeks, letting your mouth hang open for spit to drip onto his cock. You inhaled deeply through your nose and let him take you again. “Good girl. Good fuckin’ slut. Natural at sucking dick.”

He slowed down, focusing on the bulge of your throat. He watched as you took him, using you as a toy for his own needs. Then, he threw his phone aside. Holding the either side of your head with his hands. He pulled the front of your bra down, exposing your tits. Hard nipples waiting for his touch. He grabbed a handful of your breast, pinching and tweaking at your nipple. You tried hard not to close your legs, the stimulation itself could make you cum.

Matty’s hips stuttered as you whimpered around him again, and you could feel his dick twitch in your mouth. “Gonna cum. Can I- down your throat?” His words came out in a mix, trying to restrain himself from letting go right there. He slowed down his rhythm, but picked up again as he felt pleasure overtake him. You let your hand go up to his hip, nodding the best you could and rubbing the skin there.

At your confirmation, Matty spilled down your throat with a cry. You couldn’t make out most of the words. Something that sounded like a mix of your name, good girl, and thank you. He tasted good, slightly salty but the warm liquid sliding down your throat tasted more sweet than anything. Quintessential Matty, you thought.

He was panting when you looked up, turning yourself to sit on your knees on the bed. He had collapsed into a sitting position next to you. A light sheen of sweat making his curls stick to his forehead. His cheeks and chest were flushed a light pink. When he opened his eyes to smile at you, he opened his mouth to say something, too. However, the words died in his throat as you opened your mouth, sticking your tongue out to show you swallowed.

Matty’s big hands grabbed the sides of your face, pulling you in for a kiss. You knew he could taste himself on you, letting his tongue fight with yours. He kissed you passionately, pulling away and leaving your lips connected slightly. He let a string of spit fall in your mouth, which you immediately swallowed again. He grinned, “Good girl. Thank you, baby.”

He dragged you between his legs, and you could feel him getting half hard behind your back again. His hands flew to your clothed cunt, rubbing you over your panties. His other hand went to your exposed breasts, running his fingertips over the skin lightly. Pulling your nipple to hear you whimper. You were practically soaked, and he could easily tear the fabric if he so desired. “So wet just from sucking me off, huh? My own personal fucktoy. Think I should return the favor.” You only got slicker beneath his touch. “Can even watch our little video. See what gets you off faster.”

#matty healy x reader #matty healy smut #matty healy blurb

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irb-pascalito-99 · 1 month

Text

I Can Keep a Secret

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader (no outbreak AU)

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: insecurity, jealousy, smut, p in v sex, oral f!receiving, fingering, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, grief

Summary: The relationship between Joel and Ellie’s older sister is complicated after the two share some tense moments while Ellie is in the hospital. Once Ellie is able to go home the two meet up during their lunch break to discuss where to go from here.

A/N: This is an excerpt from chapter eleven on my fic Always an Angel, Never a God. To read more of this pairing check out my a03.

We eat lunch at a diner nearby. The waitress, a tall woman named Esther with thick brown hair and bright blue eyes, comes by the table frequently. She does her best to flirt with Joel, batting her eyelashes and holding his arm as she refills his coffee cup each time she passes by. I fight the urge to say something, a pit of jealousy growing in my stomach each time she reaches out to grab his arm, but Joel doesn’t seem to notice her attention.

She comes by the table again to top off his cup. I watch her manicured hand grip his bicep as she asks if he needs anything else. He looks over at me, raising his eyebrows to ask if I need anything. When I shake my head he briefly thanks her for the coffee and turns his attention back to me.

“So, sounds like you had a long morning. Is it just about Ellie going back to school?” I take a bite of one of my fries.

“For the most part,” I respond. “I also had this meeting with the social worker this morning so…”

Joel nods, giving me space to continue if I want to but not pushing the conversation in any way. I know I should be opening up more. I’m trying not to fall back into my usual isolation, but I keep the wall there. It’s comfortable on the other side, safe.

He notes my apprehension toward continuing the conversation, so he moves on. I watch him rub the back of his neck again. It must be a nervous habit of his.

“So, I wanted to talk to you about the other night,” Joel says.

I take another bite of a fry, fighting the blush creeping up my neck as the memory resurfaces. My body feels hot as I think about it. His hands on my hips. His moans in my ear.

“I just wanted to clear the air a little. It feels like things have been a little tense lately, with the kiss and then the moment at the party. I know you’ve had a lot going on, and I don’t want to pressure you or anything,” He says his words slowly, as if examining each one before he says it.

Esther watched us from the counter, her eyes skipping from him to me. I feel angry watching her assess the situation, like she’s trying to make a claim to something that’s mine. Except, Joel isn’t mine.

I try to ignore Esther and focus on Joel when he continues. “I completely get it, if it was a heat of the moment, just want to feel something, kind of thing. We can just leave it at that and never talk about it again, but I want to know what it is for you.”

What is it for me, the big question. I knew I’d have to define it soon. It’s been keeping me up at night. I think about it while I paint. Every stroke of brown reminds me of his eyes. The golden light filtering through tree lines reminds me of the warmth of his arms around mine.

“I don’t think,” I try to formulate my thoughts. I like him. I know I do, but I have baggage that he shouldn’t have to deal with no matter how much he claims he can handle it. “It wasn’t just a heat of the moment thing. I mean, the moment gave me the courage to act, but I meant it. I wouldn’t take it back. I think I really like you.”

A smile tugs at the edge of his lips. My heart leaps at the gesture. “Me too.”

I bite my lip and push some of the fries back and forth on my plate. He wants me too. My stomach is doing somersaults. I nearly jump up to yell my triumph across the room at Esther, but I think back to Ellie and the promise I made to Marlene.

Jumping into a relationship right now, with Ellie’s best friend’s dad, would put everything I’m working toward in jeopardy. What if something went wrong and it caused issues between Sarah and Ellie? What if Ellie found out and hated me for it? As much as I like Joel I can’t afford any mistakes right now.

“I can’t give you what you deserve though. I can’t give you the whole relationship thing. I have to be careful though,” I blurt out. Joel places his mug back on the table. “In that meeting with the social worker, she said some things. I really like you, but Ellie comes first. Ellie always has to come first.”

“I understand that, I’m the same with Sarah.” Joel responds. He reaches his hands across the table and I take it in mine. “I’ll take you in whatever way I can have you.”

My heart sinks at his concession. It’s sweet, and every girl’s dream, but I don’t feel deserving of it. Why should he be relegated to stolen moments behind closed doors? It’s selfish to ask that of him.

Just then Esther crosses back over to our table. I pull my hand back from Joel’s grasp as she approaches. She grabs his bicep again and I got my teeth.

“Everything alright over here, sugar?” She asks Joel, completely ignoring me.

He flits his eyes up to her face and smiles back at her politely. Blood rushes through my ears as I watch her grip on his arm tighten. Screw it, I’ll be selfish. I grab Joel’s hand again and turn my attention to Esther.

“I think we’re good, thank you.” I respond with my best fake smile. Esther’s eyes move back to me and then my hand holding Joel’s.

“Alrighty then,” she says. She lets go of his arm and sulks away.

—

I rush to unlock the door the second Joel texts me to tell me he arrived. Sure enough, he’s standing on the front porch, the glow of the porch light illuminating the waves in his messy brown hair.

We’ve kept things quiet over the last couple days, being careful not to act any different around other people. It seems best to keep things secret for now. We’re not in a relationship, it’s more casual than anything. I’ve waited all week to get my hands on him. There was no good way to sneak in a visit during the school week, but the girls are having a sleepover at my house tonight. I texted him when they finally fell asleep and he came over immediately.

I look at the empty street around him and then grab a hold of the collar of his shirt and pull him into the house. He grips my hips for support as he follows me inside, smiling against my lips when he leans down to kiss me. I’m careful to close the door and lock it as quietly as I can to ensure the girls stay asleep in Ellie’s room upstairs.

There’s an excited energy coursing through me. I’m not sure whether it stems from the newness of this thing with Joel, the building pressure off barely having seen him sided we agreed to see what this is, or the rush of sneaking him around like a secret to be preserved just for me. Whatever it is, my body aches to feel him, to hold him, to be felt by him.

“Somebody’s excited,” Joel chuckles as he pulls my body closer to his. He kisses me again, deeper this time while he holds my hips against his.

“I need you,” I respond when we break away from each other. Joel squeezes my hips tighter, a low moan escaping his chest.

“Say it again,” Joel pleads.

“I need you, now Joel.” I say again. He whimpers at the sound of it. We don’t have a lot of time together tonight. He still has to head home when we’re done so the girls don’t get suspicious, and I can’t wait any longer. I press a quick peck to his lips and then take his hand to drag him up the stairs.

He quickly follows at my heels. I take him to my bedroom and push him back toward my bed. He topples onto the mattress, his hands gripping the sheets at his sides as I climb on top of him. I press my knees on either side of his thighs and lean down to press delicate kisses along the column of his neck.

“Fuck baby, what’re you-“ he gasps when my hands reach down to his belt buckle.

His body is already twitching under my grasp while I slowly undo his belt and throw it behind me on the floor. I lower his jeans next. His hands move from where they had been grasping the sheets to squeeze the sides of my thighs. I make quick work of his shirt next, pulling the buttons open and kissing down his exposed chest.

I press kisses all the way down his body, nipping and licking at the skin from time to time as well. When I reach the waistband of his underwear I press a kiss to his hip and slowly pull the boxers down his thighs as he throws his head back and groans.

His cock springs out at me, hard as a rock already. I’ve felt how large Joel was through his jeans before, when he pressed me down on his lap to grind against him until I came, but to see it is a completely different thing. Joel is huge, his cock easily bigger than any I’ve ever seen before let alone been with. The tip is already leaking a bead of pre-cum which I happily lick into my mouth.

His hips twitch as my lips press against his tip and he makes a quiet hissing sound through his teeth. I take his reaction as encouragement to continue, licking a delicate stripe up the side of his shaft. His hands tangle in my hair as he desperately fights to keep his moans quiet. I take more of him in my mouth and start bobbing my head up and down.

“Yes baby, god,” Joel groans. “Good girl, you’re doing so good.”

I hum appreciatively at his praise, causing his hold body to shiver and his hips to buckn further into my mouth. I choke slightly at first, but quickly adjust to take more of him down my throat.

He’s having a hard time suppressing his noises now. One of his hands adjusts in my hair to hold it in a makeshift ponytail while the other moves to his mouth. He bites down on his hand to muffle his sounds as he watches me through heavy eyes. I pull up for a moment, swirling my tongue around the tip before sinking my mouth back down again.

“Fuuuuccckk,” he moans around his hand. He starts to thrust his hips up, unable to hold back any longer. I welcome his length deeper into my mouth, the tip of his chock brushing against the back of my throat with each thrust. I continue to moan while my eyes water.

I haven’t always enjoyed this part, many of my boyfriends before were so rough with it, and quick to move on once they got what they wanted, but the sight of Joel coming further and further undone as I take him in my mouth makes me clench my thighs to ease the pressure at my core. I could do this all night, enjoying the feeling of him taking what he wants, but suddenly he pulls me off of him.

“Stop, stop,” he says exasperated. He breath comes out in pants while his cock twitches against his stomach.

“I’m sorry, did I do something wrong?” I ask. Joel leans down and uses his thumb to wipe my cheeks off the tears that escaped while he fucked my throat.

“No baby, that was so good, but if you didn’t stop I was gonna come.” I stick out my bottom lip and pout.

“Isn’t that the point?” I ask. I reach my hand out to start pumping him again, but he grabs my wrist.

“Not before you it isn’t. I gotta be inside you tonight.” I whimper and he pulls me onto the bed.

Joel adjusts our positions so I’m splayed out on the bed with my head on the pillows. He slowly pulls my old t-shirt over my head, revealing my naked breasts. He groans at the sight of them and quickly lick over one of my nipples. My back arches into him involuntarily. It’s my turn now to muffle my sounds as he sucks on my nipple, releasing it with a pop before moving on to the next one.

When he’s satisfied he lowers his lips to nip at the underside of my boob and moves his hands down to push my sweatpants off and onto the floor. He traces his fingers over the center of my soaked panties.

“You’re so wet for me sweetheart,” he says. He moves his lips up to suck on my neck while he moves his fingers in circles over my panties. “She really been needing me that bad?”

I whimper in response, nodding my head in desperation as I squirm underneath him. He flashes a devilish grin.

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll give you what you need.” He promises.

His fingers grip the waistband of my panties and he quickly pulls them off my body as well, leaving me completely bare in front of him. He stands over me, eyes roaming over my figure hungrily.

I move to cover myself, but Joel grabs my wrists and pins them above my head with one hand. His other hand slowly caresses my body while I whimper.

“Don’t you dare cover yourself, you’re too damn gorgeous for that.” He says as his hand moves lower.

He cups my mound and smiles when I buck my hips up for more. He carefully slips one of his fingers through my folds, watching my reaction as I squirm underneath him. I fight to keep my eyes on his face and spread my legs further for him.

His thumb reaches down to gently start making circles on my clit. I throw my head back, panting with my eyes squeezed shut. My back arches and Joel uses one of his hands to pin my hips down.

He slides further down the bed and slips two fingers inside me while his thumb continues to circle my clit. I moan quietly at the new feeling. His fingers are thick. It burns softly as my body stretches to welcome him further, but it’s not enough. I need all of him.

“C’mon baby. C’mon, give it to me.” He says, sending a shock through my whole body as his fingers start to thrust into me harder and faster.

I can feel my climax building. His fingers hurt a spot inside me that causes me to see stars. I bite my lip so hard that I can taste blood. The hands on my hip grips me tighter to keep my ass against the mattress. I climb higher and higher until I break.

I whimper Joel’s name as I come, his eyes never leaving my face while he continues to thrust his fingers in and out of my throbbing pussy. When my orgasm finishes he stops for a brief moment to wrap his arms around my thighs. He pulls his mouth to my core, his breath fanning over my sensitive pussy before he begins licking through my folds.

I thrash underneath him, still sensitive from my orgasm, while he holds me still with his hands on my thighs. He sucks on my clit and then releases it with a pop.

“Knew you’d taste so good,” he groans. He kisses my thigh and immediately goes back to my core.

He thrusts his tongue inside me, swirling his tongue around then going back to sucking on my clit. My fingers card into his hair. One of his hands lets go of my thigh to bring his fingers back to my pussy. I pull on his curls as he slides three fingers inside, immediately finding the spot that makes my toes curl.

He smiles and hums against my clit as my pussy clenches around his fingers. I can already feel my next orgasm building.

“Joel, fuck. Joel.” I chant his name as I feel the edge approach. He moves his fingers faster, his tongue moving in quick motions over my clit as well. When my second orgasm washes over me I rush to cover my mouth to muffle my screams.

He continues lapping my juices as I come down, twitching from the sensitivity. When he’s satisfied he moves back up the bed to my lips and kisses me again. His beard is slick with me and I can taste myself in his tongue.

“You ready for me baby?” He asks when he finally manages to pull his lips off mine. I nod, quickly grabbing a condom out of the nightstand drawer and handing it to him. I need him.

Joel tears the foil open and rolls the condom down his length. Then he reaches down and rubs his cock through my folds. I gasp, tilting my hips against him. He smiles as he rubs the tip against my clit. He notches himself at my entrance and I whimper.

“Please, Joel, I can't wait any longer. I need you, plea-“ he slowly begins to sink into me. “Joel!”

I moan loudly as his cock stretches me open. He moves a hand up to my mouth to stifle my moans, grunting himself as he bottoms out. He is so deep inside me. I’m not sure if I’ve been with anyone as big as Joel before. He pauses once his hips are flush with mine. He reaches down as kisses me as my pussy throbs around him, and then he slowly pulls out almost completely. The breath is forced out of my lungs when he slams back into me.

He sets a steady pace, his cock hitting my g-spot with each thrust. I can already feel the next orgasm building as I focus on his grunts. So good. So good.

Joel moves his thumb down to my clit again. He moves it in small circles as he thrusts into me. My nails rake down his back, sure to leave marks behind, but it just stirs him on.

“That’s it baby, fuck! You gonna come again? You gonna come on my cock?” He asks. I’m dangling over the edge again. I moan out as he thrusts harder.

“Yes Joel, fuck. You feel so good. So fucking good inside me. Fuck! I’m going to come. I’m going to come again.”

My pussy clenches and then I let go, Joel moving his head to bite into my shoulder to keep himself from shouting out while I clench around him. When my orgasm subsides Joel pulls all the way out and flips me around on the bed.

“Hands and knees sweetheart,” he directs. I do as he says, spreading my knees apart for him. He groans as he looks at my glistening folds and then quickly pushes himself back inside me. “Fuck, you’re so good baby. Feel so fucking good wrapped around my cock like that.”

He wraps my hair around his fist and pounds into me hard. Each thrust has his hips slamming into my ass. I’m starting to feel weak after my three orgasms, shaking slightly as my hands try to keep my upper body off the mattress.

A familiar tightening begins in my core. I didn’t know it was possible to orgasm this much in one night, but my next one starts building again. Joel is close too, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he moans more. He leans down to press his chest against my back while continuing his thrusts.

“One more sweet girl,” he whispers in my ear. “Been doing so good for me. Give me one more and then I’ll let go.”

I whimper as I get closer, my fists baking the sheets up tightly as he continues to slam his hips into me. He moves his chest off my back and pulls my hair again which immediately sends me over the edge. My arms collapse and I cry out as the pleasure takes over.

“Good girl, fuck, perfect. You’re perfect.” Joel grunts. He slams his hips into mine once, twice, and then he spills into the condom.

He groans as he lets go, one hand gripping my hips tightly while the other stays tangled in my hair. His body twitches against mine for a couple of minutes until he pulls out, tying the condom and throwing it away. I stay laying on the bed while he slips his boxers on and sneaks across the hall to the bathroom. When he comes back he has a warm washcloth. He gently cleans between my thighs and puts the cloth in the laundry bin before returning to bed.

I immediately wrap a leg around him and put my head on his chest while he lies down. Instinctively, he wraps his arms around me to pull me close.

“If you want to keep this secret I can’t stay all night,” Joel whispers into my hair.

“I know, just a little longer.” I respond. He kisses the top of my head and we rest, listening to the soft sounds of each other's breath until I hear Joel drift into sleep.

—

I watch the clock with bleary eyes as Joel’s chest rises and lowers under my head. He can’t stay all night, despite how much I want him to, so I stay awake.

I memorize the feeling of his hand on my hip, and the rush waving through my hair with each exhale. I draw patterns on his bare chest with my fingertips, lingering on the raised scar tissue in places. I trace the outlines of his sleeping face in my mind, so tranquil. His usual worry lines fade slightly. They’re still pressed into his skin, inevitably they’ll become wrinkles some day, but they’re faint now.

At 5:30 I wake him up. I say his name softly and press gentle kisses to his skin. He stirs slowly underneath me and blinks while he tries to assess his surroundings. His arms instinctively pull me closer to him, causing my body to melt into his.

“They’ll be up in a couple hours, you gotta go,” Joel groans. He buries his face in my hair. I find myself debating if it really would be that bad if they found out. For all we know Sarah and Ellie could love the idea, but now is probably not the time to test that theory.

He presses a kiss to my forehead before he pulls away and sits up. He stretches out his body, grunting at the effort. I slide off the bed and grab his flannel from the floor. Joel watches me put it on with a big smile on his face.

“What?” I ask, blushing. His eyes moved slowly from his oversized flannel hanging on my shoulders to my bare legs underneath.

“Nothin’” he responds, the twang in his voice more evident when combined with the deep tone of his morning voice. “You just look beautiful is all.”

He slips on his boxers and jeans then pulls his socks and shoes back on as well. Before he walks down the hallway I peek into Ellie’s room. Both her and Sarah are still fast asleep, their heads pressed together as they share Ellie’s bed.

Joel looks in on them over my shoulder and then I quietly close the bedroom door. I hold his hand as I sneak him across the hallway and down the stairs. I feel like a teenager again, sneaking my boyfriend down the stairs before my parents can notice.

He lingers at the front door, gripping my jaw and pulling me in for another kiss. His other hand grips my hip over the top of his flannel and pulls me close to him. I tangle my fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck.

When we separate he kisses my forehead one more time and walks out the door. I stay on the doorstep and watch his truck pull away, Joel stopping to wave at me before he makes his way out of the neighborhood.

I try to get some sleep afterward, but I end up just tossing and turning in bed while smiling like an idiot. I look at the click on my nightstand and decide I probably still have a bit of time before Ellie wakes up. I take a deep breath of Joel’s scent in the flannel, taking it off to change into my painting clothes.

I check Ellie’s bedroom door one more time before I slip into our parents’ room. The floor crinkles when I step onto the paper I placed on the hardwood in order to protect it from any paint splatter. I pick up supplies and start a new canvas, absentmindedly stroking my brush across the empty space.

I mix different shades of pink, purple, and blue to create a sunrise, but each color also morphs into the shape of him. The dark brown mountain tops shift into the waves of his hair. The golden peach color of the sky adding highlights to his skin. I lose track of everything but the details of the paint until I hear the sound of a knock at the bedroom door. Shit.

I shift the painting out of view from the door and put my supplies back on the dresser. Ellie is standing at the door when I open it. She looks at me confused before she peers into the room behind me.

“I’m so sorry,” I say. I try to leave the room and close the door, but Ellie grabs it from me and opens it wider.

“What are you?” I stand aside so she can see I haven’t moved any of the furniture. She pinches her eyebrows together and looks at the canvases I have laying around the space.

“Nothing, I’ve just been getting back into painting again and I needed some space,” Ellie walks inside while I stand in the hallway. “I know I should’ve told you first. This was their room and it was off limits. If you’re not comfortable with it I can totally move my stuff out.”

Ellie makes her way around the room, looking at the different paintings I have leaning against the walls. It’s not a large collection, but I’ve managed to get a couple done over the last week. She stops in front of the first painting I completed.

It’s a meadow. Wildflowers bloom in the foreground while two girls play in the distance behind them with the evening sun setting under the mountains. Ellie leans in closer to see the faces of the girls, recognizing them as her and I.

“These are really good,” Ellie says with a smile on her face.

I look at the paintings as well. I don’t like to brag, but I truly do feel like this is some of the best work I’ve ever done. I can visibly see the emotion on every canvas. Each piece tells a story. I’ve painted great art before, but there’s a level of vulnerability to these pieces I’ve never attempted before.

“Thank you,” I respond.

I watch Ellie run her hand across the dresser next. She walks to mom’s closet and holds One of her shirts in her hands as it hangs off the hanger.

“She would’ve loved that you’re painting in here.” Ellie says with her back to me.

Ellie walks back to the painting of her and I. I move to be next to her, both of us focused on the painting. The version of us on the canvas are the girls who don’t yet know tragedy. They dance in a meadow of wildflowers with nothing holding them back. They are girls, they are sisters, they are free to live and love without limits.

“I think it’s okay. This space was meant to be lived in.” Ellie says. I bite my lip and nod. “They’re not coming back.”

Ellie turns to me, my eyes watering a bit as I fight tears. I can’t tell if it was a question, or a statement, but she doesn’t wait for my response.

“It’s time for us to move on I think.” She says. A couple of her own tears slip from her eyes. I reach over and wrap her in a hug. She squeezes me tight as she hugs me back.

“When did you get to be so smart?” I laugh, tears escaping my eyes as well. Ellie’s bedroom door opens and Sarah makes her way across the hall.

Ellie and I both let go, quickly drying our eyes before Sarah can notice. She looks at the art around the room as well.

“Wow, this is so cool! You painted all these?” Sarah asks.

She looks at the one I was just working on. I hold in my breath, hoping she doesn’t notice the similarity to her father. She doesn’t mention anything.

“Yeah, I’ve been getting back into it.” I respond. She moves over to the painting where Ellie and I stand.

“You’re really good.” I thank her. It’s actually kind of exciting to see their reactions to my paintings. It feels as though I’ve regained a piece of me.

The girls look at the different paintings, commenting on the colors I used and debating on what is happening in each one. They both ask me if I can show them how to paint which I happily agree to, it’ll be nice to share something with them the way our mom shared it with me.

When the girls are done assessing my work we go downstairs for breakfast. The girls hurry downstairs to start pulling out the ingredients for blueberry pancakes. I open the bedroom curtains before I go, letting the sunlight enter the room one more. When I leave the room, I keep the door open.

To read more visit a03.

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charmandabear · 1 month

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Office Hours - Chapter Eight

Summary

When whining about season selection to your therapist turns into confronting the complicated ways that Astarion makes you feel, she challenges you to really explore what it is that you - or perhaps your subconscious - want.

Pairing: Astarion/f!Reader Rating: Explicit Word Count: 2.6k Tags/Warnings: imagined D/s dynamic, light bondage, ascended Astarion lines, vaginal fingering, masturbation

Thank god this girl is finally getting into therapy, am I right? I don't have a ton to say other than now that the major conflict I had planned is winding down, it's going to be a lot more about exploration from here on out.

Once again, Zaria is out here killing it with these screenshots!

Read on AO3 ~ Masterlist

You massage your temples in an attempt to ease your headache. Season selection has been going terribly – every meeting just ended with everyone talking in circles. Today, it’s Alfira’s turn to make her case as to why hers is the best choice.

“I just think that it would do our students a lot of good to have this outlet to talk about their mental health,” she insists, bleeding heart that she is.

“I’m not necessarily saying I disagree with you,” you begin, gears in your head turning as you formulate your thoughts. “But isn’t Heathers, like, dark to the point of troubling?”

“Well sure, it’s dark, but what do you mean troubling?” Her eyes are big and round, and you try to imagine someone as tender as Alfira blocking a scene like “Dead Girl Walking.” It’s not easy.

“I’ve seen the way teen girls talk about the character JD, it’s a little concerning.” You fold your arms and lean back in your chair, studying Alfira’s expression carefully as it twists into a frown.

“I mean, sure, some of them think he’s cute, but I don’t think anyone is looking at him and thinking ‘boyfriend goals.’”

“Are you sure? Have you seen the TikToks for that one song? What’s-it-called, the ‘open the door’ song.” Your fingers twitch towards your phone, fighting the urge to pull up the app.

“Yeah, ‘Meant to be Yours,’ I’ve seen them, and I think they’re fairly harmless. They know it’s not real, you know?” She fiddles with the pen in her hand, not taking her eyes off you. You squirm, uncomfortable under her persistent gaze.

“Maybe you’re right. I don’t know.” You look down at your notes, giving yourself a second to think. “Something about the way they talk about JD makes me feel icky. JD as a character makes me feel icky. Besides,” you add quickly before she gets that puppy dog look in her eyes, “I don’t know if building around a theme of ‘mental health’ is specific enough to be interesting. I’m not even sure I can think of a classical play that fits into that.”

“Perhaps Hamlet?” Lucretious says with a smirk, and you groan loudly as others in the meeting titter.

“Gods, please, literally anything else,” you whine.

The discussion continues, going absolutely nowhere, until the clock ticks over and everyone starts to pack up their things. Another meeting gone, and you’re no closer to having a season for next year. You put away your notebook and Alfira comes up beside you.

“Just think on it a little more,” she implores. “The kids have talked a lot about wanting to do Heathers, I’m just advocating for them.”

“But do you think it’s a good, timely choice? You, the professor?” you ask suspiciously, trying to scope out her intentions.

“I really do, yes. I think there’s a reason why they’re drawn to it right now.”

You chew on your lip and look at her a little longer. Then you sigh and acquiesce. “Fine, I’ll give it another read. It’s been a while since I’ve seen it, maybe there’s something I’m missing.”

“Thank you! I appreciate it, and I know the students do too,” she says, giving your arm a little squeeze. You soften, finding it difficult to perform your usual stubbornness with someone as sweet as Alfira.

Something is still gnawing at you, though, and you can’t figure out what.

***

You arrive at your therapist’s office a few minutes before your appointment. You sit in the waiting room, the white noise machine humming pleasantly. At 6:00 on the dot, Jaheira opens the door and waves you forward.

“Come in,” she says in her thick Russian accent. You walk past her into the office, which has a cozy, natural vibe. Between all of the plants and the bookshelves, you have no idea what color the walls are. You toe off your shoes and settle on the couch cross-legged as she sits across from you in an elegant red chair.

“So tell me, how are things going?” she asks, crossing her legs and letting her legal pad balance on her knee. You fidget uncomfortably, trying to figure out what to bring up first. But the season selection meeting is still so fresh in your mind, and you have so many thoughts bouncing around your head. Before you can stop yourself, you’re filling her in on all the details, including your feelings about Heathers.

“I just don’t understand why she’s so insistent on this musical, it’s not even really that good,” you grump, picking at your cuticles. She taps her pen to her mouth contemplatively.

“And this character that bothers you so much, JD? What is it about him specifically that gets under your skin? Surely you don’t feel this way about all bad guys in plays.” She tilts her head as she speaks and your eyes dart around the room, both avoiding her gaze and trying to gather your thoughts.

“I don’t know, there’s just something… Honestly, I think it’s the way these teen girls talk about him. I can totally see some of myself in them, too. I feel like if I were a teen when this musical came out I’d be foaming at the mouth for him.” You roll your eyes at the imaginary version of yourself you’ve conjured.

“Is that bad? To find the villain attractive?”

“It’s not just finding him attractive, it’s what qualities they find attractive. The toxicity, the obsessiveness, the violence. I don’t want them to take that into their real lives, you know?” Your words ring in your ears with double meaning and you quickly shut the errant thought down. Not Jaheira, though. She picks up on it immediately.

“We’re not talking about JD anymore, are we?” she asks softly and you fold your arms across your chest. You’re silent for a good long time, various thoughts and feelings barreling through your mind like a train, while she just watches you patiently. Finally, you muster up the energy to speak.

“I just… don’t like that I like it. Every time my body gets turned on by something terrible that he does, I feel betrayed. Like I’ve violated my own consent. It makes me feel sick,” you say in a very small voice, fixing your gaze on a small succulent on the coffee table in front of you.

“I believe you said last tenday that he thought it was all a game, correct?” she asks carefully, and you nod. She continues, “Well, what’s stopping you from playing along with him?”

You stare at her, that ringing in your ears coming back. Your stomach lurches, but you genuinely can’t tell if it’s from aversion or excitement.

“I mean, I don’t want to think of my relationship as a game,” you say with slight disgust. She shakes her head.

“Not the relationship, no, but perhaps other things. If you two agree on the rules ahead of time, find a safe way to tap out if need be, what’s to stop you from having fun?”

“What, like kink?” you ask with incredulity. It’s not something you had ever considered for yourself.

“You could call it that, but it doesn't need to be anything so formal. As long as you agree on your boundaries prior.” She looks at you with that penetrating stare again, like she can peer directly into your thoughts. “Can you trust this man?”

You genuinely don't know the answer to this question.

She doesn't let the silence linger for quite as long this time. She continues, “Try it on your own, first. Just fantasy. Give yourself permission to go as dark as you want. Just make sure you have a bottle of wine and a good friend on hand.” You immediately picture a smiley Shadowheart.

There's still something tugging at your mind, though.

“But doesn't it say something about my, like, feminist values if I want to get beat up in the bedroom?” You pick some lint off your sock so you don't need to look at her, but you steal a glance up at her anyway. She’s raising an eyebrow.

“What does it say?” she asks in that tone she uses when she's pushing back on one of your biases. You swallow your instinctive response and really think about an answer.

“I don't know, like I'm a bad feminist or something,” you finally mutter. Jaheira barks out a laugh.

“Please, what, do you think you're going to go to Feminist Thought Jail? That the Feminist Police are going to come and arrest you?” Her tone is snide but it makes you crack a smile nonetheless. She knows that you sometimes need a firm hand to keep your anxiety in line.

“Your homework,” she continues, glancing at the clock, “is to let yourself explore this fantasy, however you want. Whether it's just in your mind, or in writing, you can touch yourself or not, it's up to you.” Your cheeks redden slightly at getting “masturbate” as therapy homework. “Just make sure you're listening to your body. I think she knows what she wants more than that brain of yours.”

You take a deep breath and put your feet on the floor again, slipping your sneakers back on.

“Thanks, Jaheira.”

“You're welcome. It's literally my job. I'll see you next tenday, yeah?”

You nod, slinging your bag over your shoulder. You exit her office, ideas for your “assignment” bouncing around your head.

***

You get back to your apartment and kick off your shoes. You drop your bag and immediately head into the kitchen to pour yourself a drink. There’s absolutely no way you can do this stone cold sober. Your eyes flit between the fridge handle and the wine rack above it. Red or white? The image of Astarion licking your blood off his lips invades your mind.

Red. Obviously. Unfortunately.

You catch yourself. You don’t need to be so judgmental. You like red, and if it adds to the experience because it makes you think of him, so be it.

Your desire to cringe is potent nevertheless.

You bring the glass into your bedroom and dim the lights in an attempt to set some sort of mood. You pull a candle out of a Bath and Bodyworks bag on your dresser, trying not to think about how much time you spent trying to find one with the right smell. You set the candle and your wine glass on your bedside table. You strike a match and watch as the wick catches light, the flame bobbing around like a chipper little parakeet.

While staring off into space in the direction of the candle, you take a long, deep sip of wine. After a moment, you lie back on your bed and stare at your ceiling. Echoes of the fire dance across your vision. You take a deep breath, nervous about where you’re about to let your mind wander.

You conjure up his expression from the night you saw Taming. That snide grin, fangs bared, blood dripping down his chin. You remember him closing his hand around your throat and something deep in your core constricts. You let your hand slide down your front, taking your time, and his words reverberate in your ears.

Little love, do you think you’re in control?

You unbutton your jeans and your hand slips below the waistband of your panties. You dip your middle finger into your slick and let out a shaky breath.

You insolent little brat. I will absolutely ruin you.

The thought brings a voiceless moan to your lips. Your ring finger joins your middle finger and they lazily run along your folds, spreading your wetness.

Your eyes shoot open – you hadn’t even realized they were closed. You can feel the judgment, the anger, the frustration, all bubbling up inside of you. You take a deep breath, acknowledge it, and let your imagination take over again.

You visualize him smugly peering over his glasses at you, the round wire ones, and he points down to his feet.

On your knees, darling.

His voice in your mind is smooth like velvet, low with just a tinge of threat. You look up at him, your bound hands resting in your lap, a collar around your neck. He holds the leash.

Back in your bedroom, your back arches as you slide your middle finger into your cunt, just barely up to the second knuckle. You whimper at the thought of him pulling the leash tight. Your breath moves high into your chest, making your tits heave with the exertion. You move your other hand to your nipple, gently rolling it between your fingers as another needy moan works its way into your mouth. You savor this one slightly, lending it some of your voice.

The collar is replaced by his hand, his fingers tight on your neck. He pulls up on your jaw, bringing you to an upright position on your knees. He kisses you, rough and hungry, your hands twitching against their cuffs.

You let a second finger join the first inside your cunt, tilting your pelvis to get a better angle. Your jeans constrict your waist, and in a huff you shove them down past your hips and kick them off your feet. Your fingers immediately dive back into you and you groan, thinking about his hand yanking your hair back and exposing your neck to him.

In your fantasy you say something, anything, the words are garbled nonsense in your mind. But he laughs cruelly, a far cry from his high pitched giggle that you love so much.

“Don’t be stupid, darling,” he spits, and your legs fall open to let your fingers in further, the top of your palm coming into contact with your clit. Your hips cant into your hand, your throbbing pussy aching for more friction, more heat.

“Fuck me, Astarion, make me yours,” you whine instinctually, his name sweet and bitter on your tongue. Your conscious mind recoils – do you want him to call you stupid? You’re already insecure about that as it is.

Fantasy, your subconscious coos. It’s just fantasy. You take a deep breath and give yourself permission to keep going.

He traps your naked body with his, caging you in without a means of escape. His eyes glint with something feral, like a predator, as he buries his nose into your hair. You squirm and moan for him, the line between fantasy and reality blurring. His fangs scrape across your jaw as his words spit rapidfire into your ear.

You precious little thing.

You’re mine, remember?

I shall lock you in a room and keep you all to myself.

You’re going to be wonderfully obedient.

Your fingers slide out of your cunt and you move their ministrations to your clit, rubbing in quick, small circles as his imaginary voice rattles in your brain. Your feet push against the mattress, pressing your hips into your fingers as you desperately chase release. Every part of you aches to be held down by him, his cold hands gripping your wrists as he fucks you senseless. His palm slapped across your mouth to muffle your cries of pleasure. His fangs deep in your neck as his cock thrusts even deeper.

Your hand stutters as it tries to keep pace with your fantasy, yearning to feel every inch of him across your body. Your stomach tightens and your pussy clenches and you come in a crashing wave all over your hand. You continue stroking yourself through the end of your climax, eventually succumbing to stillness. The only sensations you feel are the slowing throb in your cunt and your breath wracking through your lungs.

You let your hand linger in the sticky mess between your legs, turning your head to face the flickering orange light from the candle.

What do you want?

You’re very good at asking me that. I’m not sure you’re good at answering it yourself.

So… what do you want?

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suashii · 4 months

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— 𝒾 𝓈𝓅𝓎 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓂𝓎 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒 𝑒𝓎𝑒 ౨ৎ

itoshi rin x reader. 1.4k wc. ﾉ sfw ﾉ spy au ﾉ spy!rin ﾉ spy!reader ﾉ rivalry ﾉ reader is quite infatuated with rin ﾉ a lil suggestive if you read between the lines :3

the glitz and glamor of the event you’ve found yourself at is blinding. between the crystal chandeliers and the light glinting off of everyone’s expensive accessories, you doubt that you’re going to find who you’re looking for—though, the thought only lingers for a mere moment.

there’s no way you could ever miss him.

whether it be keenly trained eyes or your personal interest, it doesn’t take your wandering gaze more than a couple of minutes to find your target within the crowd. he’s dressed to blend in with everyone else in black tie attire, slim-fit suit hugging the curve of his waist, highlighting his muscles. and he’s worn his hair just the way you like it, slicked back to expose his forehead, though some stubborn strands have strayed from the rest, turning the neat look into something more casual—sexy.

you watch from afar with a champagne float in hand and silently wonder who he put in so much effort for. saying you know rin well would be a gross overstatement—you’ve only become familiar with him through your missions, although you can confidently say you’ve never witnessed him dressed to the nines. it’s a good look on him.

swallowing the rest of your bubbly, you set the empty glass on a passing tray and look down to check your reflection on the shiny marble floor. as much as you’d love to stand here and observe rin all night, you have work to do.

your task is simple—intercept the handoff of a hard drive containing sensitive information.

you usually wouldn’t take on such a lackluster job but you jumped at the opportunity when rin’s name was mentioned. he’s representing the party meant to be receiving the intel—it’s a shame you’ll have to make his life harder by meddling in his affairs but it’s one part of the job you consider fun, even if it is at his expense.

you’re sure to stay out of his line of sight as you navigate the large ballroom in search of another character involved in the exchange. not much time passes before you spot the man and his presence alone is evidence that you're still on schedule—the handoff hasn’t happened yet.

the carrier is a new face, one you’ve never seen before. if his worrisome, flitting gaze is proof of anything, it’s that he’s never done this before. the fact that his people were dumb (or confident) enough to send an amateur makes you snort. but you won’t complain, after all, they’re making this process a whole lot easier for you.

and once you’ve got that hard drive, that’s when the real fun starts.

you quickly formulate your strategy before setting off to execute it. light steps carry you toward the man and while you're careful not to bump into anyone along the way, you purposefully knock into his shoulder once you finally reach him.

“oh my god, i’m so sorry!” you exclaim, holding onto his wrists with your apology. there’s something hard tucked beneath his right sleeve and you have to stop your lips from pulling up in a smirk. so predictable. “are you okay?”

“uh, yeah, i’m fine.” he seems distracted, like your collision disrupted his train of thought. that’s all the better for you, your deft fingers inching up between the sleeves of his jacket and shirt to snag the thumb drive.

“i’m just so clumsy,” you laugh to punctuate your statement, concealing the stolen item in your fist once you pull away. “well, you enjoy the rest of your night!”

you slip into the crowd with a bit more urgency than you had before, eager to get the drive where it needs to be and make your exit without any problems.

when the cool air outside the venue meets your face, your mission is over—well, everything official about it, anyway. you’re still waiting on one planned aspect as you mosey around the back of the building and the sound of shoes scraping against pavement alerts you that it—he—is on the way.

you spin around to meet him face to face but as swiftly as you do, the man has you pinned up against the wall. the impact draws out a gasp at first, then a giggle. you didn’t predict that he’d be this rough but you quickly grow comfortable with his forearm against your collarbone.

he smells good, warm like cinnamon. it makes you wonder if he tastes like it, too.

“where do you think you’re going?” he spits out, brows etched together in a frown. it’s an intimidating expression, one you’re sure would have others in your position trembling, but instead of feeling any sense of unease or nervousness, you consider yourself lucky to see this side of him. it’s a far cry from his typical cool and collected exterior and while most would think that a scowl isn’t something you want to be on the receiving end of, the sight is nothing short of alluring to you.

“nowhere,” you tell him, tilting your head to the side and letting a smile take over your face, “i’m right where i want to be.”

his lip twitches in annoyance at that. “you have something i want. hand it over.”

“my heart? aw, rin, it’s already yours~”

he doesn’t seem to appreciate your nonchalance on the matter. “the hard drive. i saw you swipe it, now give it to me.”

“of course you did,” you say with a grin. this little interaction wouldn’t have been possible if you didn’t bank on the fact that rin would be keeping track of his collaborator’s movements. maybe you know him a bit better than you thought you did.

you sigh and meet his glowing teal gaze. “but i don’t have it on me.”

“where? where is it?”

“don’t worry, it’s safe in the hands of my associate.” you’re lucky that rin didn’t see you slip the information to a trusted friend on your way out. “and i’m willing to hand it over, but it’ll come at a price.”

rin’s irritation is palpable but his hold on you eases up as he considers your words. “how much?”

“it’s nothing really.” you roll your shoulders now that there’s a small gap between you and the building—not enough for you to leave, rin made sure of that much. you hold up your index finger. “one date. you and me.”

he scoffs. “you have to be joking.”

“i’m serious,” you tell him, not able to hold back the pout that graces your lips. “take me out to dinner and i’ll make sure those files get back to you without any trouble.”

without any trouble—the two of you must have different ideas on what defines “trouble” because going out on a date with you sounds fairly troublesome to rin. but he knows it’ll be his ass on the line if he turns up at the agency empty-handed. as troublesome as a date with you comes across as, facing a reprimanding sounds even worse.

“tomorrow night.” rin lets his arm fall to his side, freeing you from his cage.

your hand comes up to touch your collarbone that’s now cold with rin’s absence. you wouldn’t mind having stayed that way a little while longer, though, his reluctant acceptance of your offer leaves you more than content.

getting him to spend a night with you is the real reason you took on this commission to begin with.

“that works for me,” you let rin know with a smile, stepping forward to stuff a card with your contact information into his pocket. tipping your head up to meet his eyes, you offer him one last sentence. “call me and i’ll tell you where to pick me up.”

you wiggle your fingers in a wave as you take your leave, only pulling your phone out when rin’s figure disappears into the night. the device rings upon clicking the contact of your associate. she picks up after two of them.

“hello?”

“hey. is that duplicate drive going to be ready by tomorrow morning?”

the woman snorts. “who do you take me for? it’ll be done in an hour.”

as much as you’re interested in rin, you can’t risk losing your job over romantic feelings. hopefully he won’t mind you having a copy of that information, too.

“good. the boss will have my head if i don’t bring that intel back.”

thanks for giving this a read! consider reblogging or commenting if you enjoyed ‪‪❤︎‬ (perhaps i will write about the date?)

#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: blue lock #itoshi rin x reader #rin x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #rin x you #bllk x you #rin drabbles #bllk drabbles #blue lock drabbles

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rosesaints · 11 months

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help wanted ! chapter two.

pairing: miguel o’hara / f!reader summary: more or less, you agree to be your one night stand's babysitter rating: 18+ explicit (minors, do not interact) warnings: fantasy and allusions to explicit content series masterlist / previous chapter / next chapter

Your first job was working at an ice cream store over the summer when you were sixteen.

All things considered, it was a relatively easy job and the pay was decent. Take an order, cash the customer out, and scoop. Rinse and repeat. The owner was this sixty-something old lady who had been running the stand in your hometown for as long as you could remember, and was the only employee until that summer when she decided to retire. Your mother had bargained hard with her to get you the job, drastically exaggerating your very limited work experience and bragging about your many, many achievements, “My daughter is just such a go-getter, she won’t let you down!”

She was very generous and mostly left you to your own devices, so you were free to blast your music and get free ice cream. How hard could it be?

One hot summer day proved you very, very wrong. There was a line out of the door, the owner was nowhere to be seen, the A/C had died on you very early on in your shift, and the ice cream grew runny and unpredictable under the scorching, July heat. You vividly remember the feeling of melted ice cream running down your hands, serving some very lopsided cones to a group of middle school girls as they looked you up and down. You remember the shame, the embarrassment, and the urge to run for the hills. Ice cream dripping everywhere.

You know the feeling tightening in your chest all too familiarly.

Miguel O’Hara and his daughter are looking at you expectantly, and the words keep getting lost on the tip of your tongue. Admittedly, you had never planned on seeing Miguel again after last night. It was a brief moment of confidence and clarity for the first time in weeks, and you don’t even remember the last time you had felt so hot, so wanted. So, so utterly destroyed. You woke up with a pep in your step and felt ready to take on the world.

You make eye contact with Miguel and the memories come rushing back like wildfire.

He watches you struggle to keep your moans contained, has to gloat as you melt around his cock. “You like watching me stretch it out, don’t you? Say it.”

Every instinct in your brain was telling you to scurry back to your house and lock yourself in your room for the rest of the summer. You were halfway through formulating a plan on how to best avoid your next-door neighbors when you realize you’re still standing on their porch with a plate of blueberry muffins.

Miguel, on the other hand, seems completely unaffected, maybe even a bit smug. He’s looking at you expectantly and with the composure of someone who didn’t just rail you in a random bar’s bathroom. “Can I help you?”

Your mouth dries and you can feel your palms sweating under his gaze. “My… my mom sent me over with some muffins. Blueberry. Really good.” Oh my god.

He raises an eyebrow and leans forward to look over at your house next door, cocking his head just slightly in realization. “You’re the daughter I’ve been hearing so much about? I thought you were still at college.”

“Y-Yeah, I just graduated.”

“Oh. Congratulations,” Miguel looks down at his daughter earnestly, smiling and gesturing to the plate of muffins on the verge of falling over in your hands. “Gabi here has a sweet tooth, and I’m afraid I’m not that good of a baker. Your mom’s been a huge help since the day we moved in.”

The only thing you can do is nod in futile agreement, of course, your mom is just so helpful. Practically a saint. You’re going to need to have a long talk with her later about being too neighborly and offering your help to people. Gingerly, you hand the baked goods over to Miguel and prepare to excuse yourself with a long-winded explanation about how you really should go, they must be so busy–

He beats you to the punch. “So I heard you’re interested in babysitting.”

You swear that you can feel your heart dropping to your stomach. You knew that you could very easily refuse, turn around and go home to pretend this interaction never happened, but then you imagined your mother’s disappointed gaze, returning empty-handed without even considering his offer, thinking about the fact that your parents have been letting you crash at home for free and that this was the only thing they had asked from you to do in weeks. You hardly believe the next words that come tumbling clumsily off your lips, unsure and unsteady. “I… am?”

Miguel grins. “Do you want to come inside and talk about it?”

It’s, quite frankly, a terrible idea. But not nearly terrible enough to stop you from accepting with wide, doe eyes and bringing your feet forward to enter the O’Hara home.

There are a few things you notice when you walk in: his house is spotless. The decorations are few and in between, but they’re classy and timeless. A couple of soccer balls float around the hallway, and it looks like they were working on a puzzle just before you got there. On the walls, there are many, many pictures of Gabi in various areas of the house, Gabi cuddling with a soccer ball when she was less than a year old, framed canvases of Gabi’s past birthdays with cake smeared all over her face, lots of selfies from the infamous Facebook mom angle, but it’s endearing. You can feel the love pouring out from every single one.

Not a single photo with a wife, thank god. You don’t know how you could come back from that one.

You’re led into an even more impressive kitchen as he gets Gabi settled into her breakfast, fruit loops with a side of Dora the Explorer as you hear him ruffle her fluffy, brown hair. “Espérame un momento. Sé buena, conejita.”

Miguel walks back into the room and you wonder what the next best course of action is, where you could even start. Thanks for fucking me into next week, it was really good. I don’t know why my mother is so insistent on me becoming your babysitter. He’s even taller than you remember, handsomer too, and you take the time to revel in just how handsome he was. Warm daylight cast a soft glow on his features, long lashes fanning his high cheekbones, reminiscent of some Roman god you’ve seen in a museum once before—

He’s looking at you with something akin to amusement and you have to quickly pull it together, embarrassed of having been caught missing the last thing he said with your ogling. “I’m sorry?”

“I asked what made you wanna babysit. Your mom told me you have an internship with the Daily Bugle and a few things lined up. I was wondering what made you wanna jump ship all of a sudden,” He smiled lightheartedly, and the room felt a little less tense, a little less fraught on your nerves “Babysitting’s not nearly as glamorous as working with J. Jonah Jameson. Just a little bit similar in terms of the temperament, I guess.”

“Oh,” You feel embarrassed. How does someone explain a failed engagement and the root of your lost prospects to a one-night stand and potentially your future boss? Yeah, my ex-fiance may have gotten me blacklisted from most of the multi-media companies in the tri-state area. Gotta make do with what you have. “You know how it is. Tough job market nowadays, and my mom insists since you guys just moved in. She adores Gabi.”

“She’s a handful,” He laughs, warm and husky and it’s addicting. You can’t help the smile that blooms across your face and he looks endearingly over to the living room. “I actually would really appreciate the help. Her old babysitter’s going abroad this summer and I’ve been searching for a while now for a replacement. If you’re interested, I can tell you more about what I’m looking for?”

“Yes! I mean, yeah. I’m... I’m thinking about it.”

“Well alright,” Miguel’s smile grew, and you felt your heart swell at his approval. Focus. “Can you give me your phone?”

Your brain short-circuited at that moment. “For what?”

“So you can text me when you’ve decided,” His eyes shine with something mischievous, but it feels genuine. It was an innocent and harmless request, and you couldn’t argue with his logic. You probably would have needed his number if you accepted, anyway. “And so I can ask for more muffins in the future.”

He’s tapping his name and number down on your phone, listing out some expectations and requirements for the job that you should probably remember. At that point, you contemplated whether or not he even remembers the events that occurred the night before, wondering how he was acting so casually and discussing the rates of pay of a babysitting job ($30 an hour was pretty damn good), as he hands your phone back to you.

You thought you were in the clear, ready to make your leave, until you took your phone from him, and something in his gaze shifted, more heated and hungry.

Miguel murmurs your name, so close all of a sudden. Goosebumps lit your skin on fire as he brushed your hair back, examining the turtleneck you wore. His hand brushed the side of your neck in a manner that was anything but innocent, scrutinizing the fabric with the pads of his fingers and you start to crumble, frozen as all you can do is stand there. “This is different from last night.”

This was the man you had fucked the night before . “I couldn’t… couldn’t let my parents see.”

He hums in acknowledgment, but he continues to mess with your collar, pulling the fabric down just a little bit, just enough to see the assortment of purple and red bruises that marked your neck. His eyes darkened ever so slightly, as he pulled the fabric back up and met your eyes again. “You missed some.”

“What?”

One of his hands drifted down, and you resisted the urge to turn around and check that Gabi was still busy, hoping that she was still wrapped up in her cereal and her show. His hand is rough, calloused, and hot. So, fucking hot . Miguel’s hand stopped suddenly just past your skirt, squeezing the soft skin of your thigh. “Here.”

As you looked down, you noticed that he was right. You could see a vague outline of his handprint beginning to bloom in red on the skin of your thigh, and your breath gets caught in your throat. His smile was sharper, then, more dangerous and he let you go.

“I’ll be waiting for your decision.”

You were lightheaded and half-delirious as you made your way out of his house, wishing Gabi a quick goodbye as she grins at you happily, thanking you for the muffins with a full mouth of cereal. The entire walk back to your house, you could still feel him staring, still feel his fingers around your neck, how impossibly full you felt from those hands only the night before—

You didn’t dare to look back.

Practically stumbling through your front door, your heart raced as you faced yet another surprise for the day. Your mother had been waiting in anticipation by the door, wearing an expression of hope and optimism that seemed oblivious to the fact that she had just dropped a bomb on your summer plans. A whole summer with that man? Panic set in as you wondered how on earth you were going to survive this ordeal.

"Well?" your mother asked impatiently, her eyes brimming with curiosity. You glance at the clock and realize you'd been gone for quite some time, leaving her imagination to conjure up all sorts of scenarios. None of them probably held a candle to what actually happened. "How did it go?"

Taking a deep breath, you began to respond, "I told him I'd think about babysitting—"

Before you could even finish your sentence, your mother's squealing interrupted you, a sound that rivaled the exuberance of a lottery winner and surpassed even the joy she displayed when you graduated college, hell, even when you told her you got engaged . Her enthusiasm was infectious, and it left you both bemused and slightly apprehensive.

"Emphasis on thinking about it," you quickly interjected, trying to temper her soaring expectations. "Don't get your hopes up just yet."

But your mother brushed off your cautious words with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Don't be silly, hon," she asserted, her voice overflowing with conviction. "How could you possibly say no?"

How could you possibly say no?

Of course, there was only one reasonable course of action to take once you made your way back to the privacy and security of your room, far from your mother’s overwhelming positivity. You looked up “Miguel O’Hara” on your laptop immediately. Your research proved fruitful and abundant, as only a handful of his names were in your area.

For an hour, you found out several things: Miguel O’Hara attended Stanford University nearly nine years ago, played soccer and track on a full-ride, and majored in their Bioengineering program with a minor in Ethics and Society and Spanish. Since then, he worked his way up the ladder starting as an intern for Alchemax International, and was currently one of their lead geneticists, with about a dozen awards and articles about him with lofty descriptions like, “A genius in the field of genetics.”

Before Gabi, his Instagram was sparse, with soccer game photos, picturesque screencaps of Stanford, and updates about his genetics research here and there. Five years ago, it felt like he came alive, a million vibrant little photos and updates of Gabi and her penchant for soccer spreading to every corner of his feed. There were bright, wide smiles on every slide, and you could tell that she was the light of his life, the focus of all his efforts.

Still, no wife in sight, and you release the breath that you didn’t even know you were holding.

Diving deeper, you saw that he also coached your hometown’s little league girls’ soccer team and you briefly smiled at one of his posts with all the girls and their new trophy, with Gabi at his shoulders and flashing toothy grins at the camera. There’s so much pride, so much joy in just one photo.

And then as recently as two months ago, they had moved into the house next to yours. It explained why you had virtually heard nothing about them when you were in college, too caught up in the haste of graduating and setting up your internship, setting up a life with your fiancé—

There’s a nervous, pregnant pause as you remembered the life you were on the cusp of just a month ago. At that moment, you were supposed to be interning at the Daily Bugle, accompanying reporters to events and press conferences, diligently editing and proofreading, and hauling ass through the bustling streets of New York, clutching cups of coffee in your hands—This dream that you used to fantasize and romanticize for the longest of times, and all you feel is hollow.

Instead of bustling around a lively apartment that wasn’t entirely yours , discussing wedding plans over takeout and Netflix, you were sitting alone in the familiar confines of your childhood bedroom. Cross-legged, you contemplated how you allowed yourself to be swept up in someone else's plans, losing sight of your desires along the way.

The past three years replayed in your mind like a worn-out tape, each day blending into the next as exhaustion seeped into your bones. The weariness, the constant drain of energy, was your constant companion as you followed the path your fiancé had paved for you.

But now, there was a flicker of realization that ignited within you— didn’t you deserve a break? Didn’t you deserve some fun?

Your eyes hazily drifted back to the laptop screen before you, illuminating the room with its gentle glow. You think of bergamot and crisp green leaves, a summer well spent at your neighbor’s house, blueberry muffins, soccer fields and dark, dark eyes. The answer seemed clear as day.

No use in lingering in something as foolish as what could have been, when you had something right in front of you.

At dinner, the room was filled with the sounds of clinking silverware and the gentle hum of conversation about each other’s days. Dinner was a familiar meal your mother had fretted and labored over for the better part of the day, something warm and distinctively comforting from your childhood. The sun’s just barely setting outside, casting the room in a warm, orange glow and everything feels normal, less daunting.

It’s nice, you had been forgoing dinners with your parents in favor of takeout in bed with your favorite trashy reality show during your first few weeks with them. You had forgotten that despite the way that your life had been abruptly upended in recent memory, you had managed to resurface with relative ease due to their support.

But glancing across the table at your mother, you felt a little bit less supported, her face contorted in what she believed to be subtlety, struggling to contain her curiosity and eyes brimming with unasked questions. She was trying to feign nonchalance, attempting to appear casual while her anticipation was clear from across the dining table.

Finally, unable to resist any longer, she seized the moment. Her voice carried a hint of hope, laced with the yearning for a resolution. "So are you done thinking about it?"

Caught off guard, you momentarily froze, your mind scrambling for a response. You mustered a reassuring smile, trying to cloak whatever lingering uncertainties you had left. This was the woman who had been your biggest cheerleader, who had picked you up off the side of the road after you lost your first job at the ice cream stand, took you to Ben & Jerry’s straight after, and cut off ties with your old manager like it was nothing. You smiled. “Yeah. I think I’m going to take up Mi–Mr. O’Hara on his offer.”

If your parents noticed any slip-ups in your wording, they don’t mention it.

“You know, isn’t it just delightful that there’s no Mrs. O’Hara in the picture—”

“Mom, we have got to talk about boundaries. Seriously,” You nearly drop your fork into your food, aghast by what your mom just implied. “He’s our neighbor.”

It was late at night, bolstered by a surge of courage, when your fingertips danced hesitantly over the screen of your phone, lingering above the name "Miguel O'Hara." You consider your first text to him heavily on your lips, testing the weight of each word as you typed and re-typed over and over.

Hey! So, I've made up my mind—I'm in for the babysitting gig!

Not quite.

Guess what? I've decided to accept your babysitting offer!

Not quite satisfied with that either, you take a deep breath and decide to go for a more straightforward approach.

Hey Miguel! I've been doing some thinking, and I'd love to babysit Gabi! Just let me know when you need me, and we can work out the details.

With your heart racing, you pressed the send button and watched as the message turned blue. The dots of his reply began immediately. Stopped. Began and stopped again. Then:

Can't wait :) I’ll see you on Monday?

You could have thrown the phone right through the wall. Oh, you were down bad .

Shaky fingers gripping your phone, you’re filled with a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation, reading and rereading his response. You haven’t felt this giddy since… forever. The smile on your face grew wider with each passing moment, and you couldn't help but feel the same surge of confidence you felt the night before coursing through you.

He’s everywhere, all-encompassing. You feel him along the shell of your earlobe, whispering something absolutely shameless and incorrigible to you. It has the desired effect, your heart stuttering with desire and your sweet cunt tightens around his cock in anticipation. He places a finger on your lips and his, slick with your arousal still, and beckons you gently to still. Be quiet.

Then his teeth are sinking into your skin, hard.

“Look at you,” Miguel murmurs, drawing tight circles over your nipple as you cry out silently. “Shameless.”

Your hands are entangled in his, reaching every which way, and you babble, mindlessly, without a thought of decency as you scratch your fingers through the lean skin of his back, mouth watering at how perfect he is for you, how his size fits inside you like a glove. Running your tongue over the long muscle of his neck, tasting the salt and cinnamon and and sucking a bruise in the same spot where he had kissed and suckled the night before.

His dark and heavy lashes flutter; his head dropping impossibly close to yours, and then he’s begging for something against your jaw, thrusts growing uncontrolled, his hips catching as his cock twitches in you.

You can’t say anything back. Your breaths come out ragged and strained, crooning until he hits something deafening inside you, and then the feeling spreads across your body like wildflower and it’s so hot, it’s searing and you just want him to move, unable to function with the way he just holds there right up against that spot and lets you both feel each other like this for a second.

You don’t want him to stop; you never want this to end. It feels so good being full of you, you mumble.

“Let me taste you, cariño,” His voice is filled with need, to the point of growling. It’s different—

You can’t help the whine that escapes your breathless lips as you wake up in a hot flash, realizing that you’re still within the confines of your bedroom.

Monday couldn’t come fast enough.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #oscar isaac #mdni #miguel o'hara smut

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loudstan · 2 years

Text

Presenting

Summary: Jisung's adoration towards you finally makes sense once he presents.

Pairing: Werewolf! Jisung x Witch! Female reader

Warnings: smut, reader is slightly older, switch Jisung trying to handle his own instinct.

“I told you to bring booze!” was the greeting you received as soon as Jaehyun opened the door.

“Do you think I’m dumb?” you scoffed, pushing a bag of snacks to his chest and taking your shoes off before walking in. “Alcohol is more expensive than snacks. You buy booze.”

Being friends with Jaehyun could be bothersome: wake up calls so he didn’t miss lectures, not being able to get a date because everyone would think he was your boyfriend and he always expected you to show up with food or alcohol. But there were also benefits: he would always share his food with you, walk you home if it was getting dark and you got to hang out with him and his brothers for movie nights.

“Can’t you just do that thing you do and make booze appear?” Jaehyun groaned, following you to the living room. You turned towards him and lifted an eyebrow. “Please?” he asked, giving you his best pout which made you laugh out loud.

“Fine,” you sighed, sitting on the floor. “Bring me as many empty bottles as you can find.”

Jaehyun wasted no time and went to do as he had been told the exact same second Jisung made his entrance. He gave you a shy smile and sat down near you.

“Hi, Jisung!” you smiled back brightly. “Ready for a horror movie?”

His smile widened and he opened his mouth to reply, when Jaehyun came back into the room, carrying a bunch of bottles of different sizes and complaining about how a witch of your category should be able to materialize bottles as well.

“Materializing solids is harder than materializing liquids,” you deadpanned what you thought should be obvious.

“You’re gonna do magic, noona?” Jisung leaned forward and looked at the bottles with curious eyes.

“Why are you here, Jisung?” Jaehyun asked finally acknowledging the younger’s presence. “The movie won’t start yet so you can take a nap or something.”

“I-uh… just wanted to say hi,” Jisung mumbled nervously.

“You always come out of your room as soon as Y/N arrives,” Jaehyun pointed out and chuckled teasingly. “It’s like you can smell her or something.”

At this Jisung blushed furiously and his eyes widened as he looked at Jaehyun and then at you, his mouth opening and closing a couple of times but not being able to formulate any words.

“Leave him alone,” you gave Jaehyun a stern look and grabbed Jisung’s hand, ignoring the surprised gasp that left his mouth and pulling him to sit closer to you. “He knows I get in a good mood when I see him, right?”

Jisung didn’t reply, too stunned looking at the way your small hand barely managed to circle his.

Jaehyun snorted.

“Sure, he’ll keep you company while I go take a shower then,” he yawned and his figure disappeared into the corridor.

“Okay, wanna see some magic, Ji-” you turned to look at him and found him placing your palm against his, marveled at the visible size difference. You had never paid proper attention to his hands before; his fingers were long and beautiful and they were lacing with yours now as he let out a soft whisper that sounded like 'so small…'

“Jisung…” you called after you remembered how to breathe. “I need both hands to do magic.”

“Oh-” He seemed to finally escape whatever trance he was trapped in and let go of your hand hesitantly. “Sorry.”

You smiled at him and gathered the bottles in front of you.

“I would ask you what alcohol you want me to materialize, but you’re too young to drink-” you tried to lighten the mood.

“Just beer is fine,” he said.

“What?” you were sure you had misheard him. There was no way he knew anything about alcohol.

“I mostly drink soju and tequila shots,” he shrugged and helped you reach the bottles that were too far. “But some of the others can’t handle that much, so beer would be better.”

“Uh… sure, then let’s go with beer tonight,” you said and got to work.

It took you about 20 minutes to fill the bottles with alcoholic liquid. You could have finished sooner, but Jisung was staring intently at your hands made it really hard to concentrate.

The movie was not as scary as you expected and no one could take it seriously. Some of the guys would randomly scream just to scare the others and they ended up getting drunk and throwing chips at each other. You on the other hand, had had a long week and your body was starting to give up on you, your eyes closing slowly.

“Noona,” you heard a deep but soft voice on your left, “are you tired?”

You smiled tiredly at Jisung. “Yeah… I should probably go home soon.”

“It’s kind of late, though,” Jaehyun said from your right side. “Wanna spend the night here? We can share my bed.”

“But you won’t let me sleep,” you groaned.

“Oh? Is that an invitation to go back to our old arrangement?” he teased and just then everyone went silent, looking at you both.

“What arrangement?” Yuta asked curiously, breaking the silence.

“It’s nothing,” you said before Jaehyun could answer. “Jaehyun, no,” you hissed only for him to hear.

“Your lose,” he simply said and winked at you.

“Nah, I really wanna know now,” Johnny stopped the movie and turned so he could face his object of interest.

You looked around and saw each of the guys’ faces staring back at you intently. Jisung looked like he was holding his breath.

You then looked at Jaehyun who at least had the decency to look guilty about letting it slip. You sighed and decided to come clean.

“We used to fuck,” you finally said.

The collective gasp would have been comical if you hadn’t been the one who caused it. Questions about details were fast to arise.

“How was it?” was the last question heard by everyone and followed mostly by cheering and a couple of reprimands.

Jaehyun bit his lip, suppressing a smirk before whispering a short “sorry” your way and replying to the question. “Fucking amazing.”

Louder cheers and some dramatical screams exploded around.

“If it was so good then why did it stop?” interrupted Ten.

“It was not my decision for sure,” said Jaehyun.

“We just weren’t compatible,” you shrugged.

“He’s all talk, isn’t he?” Jungwoo asked you. “He didn’t make you cum.” he wasn’t asking, but stating a fact.

Everyone waited in silence for your answer, and you looked at Jaehyun apologetically. He lifted his eyebrows in disbelief.

“No way…” he waited for you to laugh and tell him that it was all a joke, that he was the best fuck you’ve ever had and that you would love to do it again. “You did cum, I’m sure.”

“I did. I made myself cum,” you murmured. “You just happened to be there.”

Some of the members of the pack snorted but tried not to be too loud and hurt Jaehyun’s ego even more. Jisung, who had been silent the entire time next to you, scoffed.

“Anyways,” you continued trying to end the conversation as soon as possible. “What I meant earlier is that I can’t sleep with you in the same bed because you snore, so I would rather go home.”

Mark and Haechan in a corner laughed harder at you mentioning Jaehyun’s snoring.

“It’s late, Y/N,” Taeyong reminded you. “Are you sure? One of us can sleep on the couch and you can take the bed.”

“I’ll take the couch,” Jisung suddenly said. Everyone seemed to be surprised to finally hear his voice. “You can sleep in my bed, noona.”

“No, no.” You quickly said. “I can sleep on the couch-”

“No,” he insisted. “I’m not sleepy yet so I’ll watch some TV instead. I’d rather sleep here.”

“Oh… Thank you, Jisung,” you gave in and everyone went back to their own conversations, standing up to go to bed too.

“Well,” Jaehyun tried to lighten the mood, placing his hand on your thigh. “If you change your mind, I’ll leave my door unlocked-”

A deep growl pierced through the choir of voices and caused a heavy silence to reign in the living room. Everyone stood in shock, looking at the source of the threatening sound: Jisung, with his fists clenched and a slight glimpse of red visible in his eyes, set on where Jaehyun’s hand made contact with your body.

Jaehyun raised an eyebrow. He seemed to understand what was happening immediately. He wasn’t oblivious to Jisung’s crush on you, but he never thought much of it. It was just a crush, after all. Or was it? He had to make sure…

Without breaking eye contact with Jisung, Jaehyun slid his hand towards your inner thigh and gave it a soft squeeze. Something that you would have taken as a friendly touch, not uncommon for you two. But it seemed to set Jisung off, his growl becoming louder and more feral, bearing his teeth as if he was about to bite Jaehyun’s hand off.

“Jisung!” Taeyong’s voice rumbled against the walls and it seemed to get to the youngest member of the pack. Jisung shook his head and looked at his leader, and then at your stunned expression.

He cleared his throat and coughed a couple of times.

“S-sorry, I think I’m about to catch a cold or… something.”

When no one said anything, he spoke again.

“I’ll wash up first.” he mumbled awkwardly and scratched the back of his neck. “My room is all yours to use, noona,” and just like that he scurried away, followed quickly by Chenle.

“You just want your bed to smell like her!” Chenle accused a bit too loud, causing Jisung to shush him and drag him away before he could say something else. Jeno and Jaemin failed to contain their giggles as they left the living room too, and soon other members followed. The last ones to leave were Taeyong and Doyoung, exchanging worried looks and whispers and leaving you and Jaehyun alone.

Jaehyun sighed.

“Our Jisung is a man now, huh?” he said

“What the hell was that? Did he growl at you?!” you still couldn’t believe sweet, shy Jisung had such a side.

“Sure did…”

“Why?!”

Jaehyun didn’t say anything for an entire minute.

“It’s too soon to say,” he finally turned to smile at you and ruffled your hair. “Don’t worry about it yet.”

“Yet?” you repeated as you watched him stand up and make his way out of the living room. “And later?”

“Well…Just don’t play with the poor boy, okay?”

“...what do you mean?” you whispered.

Jaehyun smiled, but he seemed too worried for the smile to reach his eyes.

“Nothing, Y/N… Forget about it. Goodnight…”

You tossed and turned in Jisung’s bed, failing to fall asleep.You just couldn’t stop worrying about Jisung’s behavior earlier. Was he mad at Jaehyun? Was he mad at you? What if he was actually getting sick and sleeping on the couch made it worse? The pang of guilt you felt was enough to get you out of bed and quietly go to the living room to check on him.

His long body certainly didn’t fit in the couch so his feet were hanging off but he seemed to be fine overall, sleeping soundly on his back, with hands over his head. You gently placed your hand on his forehead to check on his temperature; he was warm but not enough to alarm you. Letting out a relieved sigh, you stepped away from him, but you hadn’t walked two steps when you heard him call you.

“Noona..” he whimpered softly.

You turned to look at him, worried that you had woken him up or that he needed something, but you were met with his sleeping form, eyes closed, breath evened and a content smile like he was having the best of dreams.

“Noona,” he repeated, arching his back slightly and sighing. “You smell so good…”

You felt your face heaten up. Was he dreaming of you?

You waited, but nothing else came out of his parted plump lips. He just laid there pacifically like he hadn’t just made you short circuit.

You forced your legs to take you to the kitchen, thinking a cold glass of water would calm you down. Your hands searched for the right cabinet blindly, and then remembered that they had moved the glasses to the top shelf about two weeks ago. You stood on your toes and mentally cursed your height. So you could make alcohol appear but couldn’t reach the top shelf? You weren’t particularly good at levitating objects either so there was no way for you to get a glass. Just when you were about to give up, you felt a warm body behind you and saw a long arm grab a glass over you easily, placing it on the counter in front of you.

“You wanted this, right?” you heard Jisung’s sleepy voice near your ear as he continued hovering over you.

“Y-yes, thank you,” you stuttered, not daring to move. “Sorry I woke you up.”

“It’s fine,” he mumbled. “The real thing is much better.”

You gulped. He was probably still half asleep and wasn’t making any sense, you thought as you watched him close the cabinet over your head.

“I never noticed how t-tall you are.” you laughed nervously.

“I’m not particularly tall,” he hummed and you could swear you felt him inhale against your hair, before he let out a soft groan. “You’re just so small.”

“A-am I?” you asked just for the sake of saying something. All intelligent thoughts had left your brain when he placed his large hands on top of yours on the counter.

“Uh-huh,” he squeezed your hands and pressed his body closer to you from behind, making it impossible not to notice a prominent bulge against your lower back. He hid his face on your neck before he whispered: “I could split you in half.”

You moaned out loud before you could think about how wrong this was. This was little Jisung! He hadn’t even presented yet and he had you feeling more hot and bothered than any man before, while whispering such crude things with the softest tone and barely humping your ass. You were losing it for him doing the bare minimum, when you didn’t even know you were attracted to him.

“You sound even better than in my dreams,” he groaned, thrusting against you a bit harder, his hands leaving yours to travel up your arms and finally circle your waist, holding you firmly in place for him to pursue his pleasure.

You don’t even know what took over you when you leaned forward into the counter and arched your back with a shaky breath, pressing your behind harder against him and eliciting the most delicious moan out of him.

“Can’t believe he didn’t make you cum,” he suddenly spit, sliding a hand under your shirt and massaging your breast. “I wouldn’t stop until you’ve soaked the bed,” he groaned, his other hand traveling down the hem of your shorts. “My bed…”

“J-Jisung!” you finally came to your senses and grabbed his hand right as it started sliding into your shorts. “Wait, w-we can’t!”

He stopped all movement and stilled behind you, slowly raising his head.

“Huh?” was all that came from him as if he was waking up from a trance. And then, he practically jumped away from you like you had burned him. “Noona?!”

Hesitantly, you finally turned around and looked at him. He looked from his hands to you, eyes flashing red and golden intermittently. Whether he was still panting due to his previous activities or because he was panicking, you didn’t know.

“I-,sorry I… I don’t k-know why I… shit, noona I’m so sorry,” he stuttered and stumbled over his own feet as he fled to the bathroom and locked himself in there.

You stood in the darkness in silence, the glass long forgotten on the counter and your upper thighs uncomfortably sticky due to the wetness you couldn’t stop. Your heart was pounding against your chest like you were a teenager facing her first crush, and all because of Jisung.

But his reaction confirmed your theory that he wasn’t really awake and it made you feel incredibly guilty. Had you scared him? What if he felt like you had taken advantage of him and hated you know?

You heard the faint singing of birds coming from outside and noticed the room wasn’t as dark anymore and took it as your queue to go home, getting dressed and grabbing your stuff silently, not wanting to face anyone right now.

Once you got home you took a quick shower and hid under the blankets, falling asleep immediately as if all energy had been suddenly stolen from you.

You woke up to your phone ringing insistently on your nightstand.

“What?” you sleepy mumbled placing the phone on your ear.

“When did you leave?” Jaehyun’s voice asked.

“Uh I don’t know…early, I guess.”

“Why didn’t you wake me up? I would have walked you home.”

“It’s fine, I got home safe and sound.”

He hummed and yawned. “Next time wake me up, okay?”

“Okay…” you mumbled and bit your lip, suddenly remembering what had happened last night. “Hey, Jae…does Jisung normally…sleepwalk?”

“Sleepwalk?” he sounded confused. “Uh no, not that I know- why?...did something happen last night?”

“Uh…”

“Hold on, Y/N.”

You heard faint murmurs being exchanged on the other side of the line and then you heard Taeyong’s voice asking for the phone.

“Y/N, did Jisung go to the room where you were sleeping last night?” Taeyong asked straight to the point.

“NO!” you basically yelled. “No, of course not.”

“Did he do or say something weird then?” he insisted

It took you a bit too long to answer. How could you possibly tell them?!

“Y/N, I need you to tell me or we can’t help him.”

“He…uh, I-” you inhaled deeply before thinking of a way to tell them without giving away many details. “I went to the kitchen last night and I think maybe I woke him up, or…I don’t know but he was there and talked and…acted in a way that wasn’t like…like him, you know? And his eyes were changing colors…”

You heard even more voices discussing on the other side of the line before Taeyong spoke again.

“What did he say exactly?”

You froze. Jisung’s whisper of 'I would split you in half' echoed in your head.

“I- I don’t remember… I was half asleep,” you lied.

Taeyong’s silence made it clear he didn’t believe you, but he didn’t insist.

“Is Jisung okay?” You finally asked.

“He’s fine,” Taeyong assured you. “He is a bit moody today, hasn’t left his room, but he isn’t sick or anything… We think he’s about to present.”

“Oh,” you said dumbly. That made sense; the weird change of eye color, a more aggresive attitude and sudden hornyness. You felt relieved, but also a bit disappointed. It was just his animal side and he would have reacted like that with any other woman; he wasn’t attracted to you. And after he presented, it would only be a matter of time before he met his destined mate. Great. It’s not like you liked him either, right?

Right?

When the call finished, you were in a terrible mood. And you were still in a bad mood for the next few days, a week even. And when it was time for another movie night at Jaehyun’s, you declined, saying you were tired. Instead, you grabbed a blanket and a cup of hot chocolate and watched a movie on your own, while the heavy rain tapped against the window.

As you approached the end of the movie, you heard a soft knock on your door. You stopped the movie and looked at the door, just in time for a harder knock to be heard. Puzzled, you stood up and walked softly towards the door, the knocking becoming louder and more insistent.

“W-who is it?” you asked nervously once you reached the door.

“Noona,” called the deep voice from the other side. “It’s me…”

“Jisung?!” you shrieked and quickly opened the door, facing the boy whose clothes and hair were soaking wet. “Jisung what are you doing here?! Look at you, why didn’t you bring an umbrella with you?! You’ll get sick-”

“Are you mad at me?” he asked immediately, staring into your eyes.

“W-what?”

“Are you mad because of what I did that night? Is that why you don’t want to go to our house anymore?”

“No, Jisung.” you sighed. “I’m not mad at you, I promise. I just wasn’t feeling it today.”

His shoulders relaxed and he nodded. “Oh, okay…I’ll see you around then…”

“Jisung,” you called him before he could leave. “Come in and take a hot shower okay? Let’s get you some dry clothes to change into.”

He looked at himself, like he had just noticed his state and murmured a soft “okay” before entering your place timidly. You showed him the way to the bathroom and left a clean towel for him to use, letting him know there would be dry clothes waiting for him in your room.

Meanwhile you went to the kitchen to prepare a cup of hot chocolate for him right when your phone started vibrating in your pocket. It was Jaehyun calling.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Y/n, is Jisung with you?” he asked urgently.

You almost choked on your saliva. How did he know?!

“Uh…yes, he just showed up.”

“Oh thank god,” he sighed, and then his voice sounded distant as he seemed to be speaking to somebody else, telling them 'he’s with her!'

“Is everything okay?” you asked nervously

“He suddenly left in a hurry and didn’t tell anyone anything. He left his phone here, and Chenle tried calling some of his friends but no one had seen him.”

“He’s fine, just got wet because of the rain so he’s taking a shower now. He can stay here until the rain stops,” you offered.

“Thank you,” Jaehyun said and paused for a minute before adding: “Don’t tell him I called you.”

“Why not?”

“He’s a bit…sensitive these days,” he murmured. “And he isn’t very happy with how close I am with you so…”

“...That makes no sense,” you replied and lowered your voice as you heard Jisung exiting the bathroom and entering your room to get changed. “We’ve been friends for years and he’s never seemed to have a problem with that.”

“Yes, but now he’s presenting Y/N.”

“So?”

“Look…,” you heard some movement and then a door closing, indicating that he had probably gone to his room to talk without anyone hearing. “Taeyong doesn’t want me to tell you this, something about not wanting to pressure you into anything but…uh…”

“Just spit it out,” you were starting to get impatient

“We think Jisung imprinted…on you,” the last part was barely audible.

There was an awkward silence that none of you knew how to break until you cleared your throat.

“That’s impossible,” you said. “He hasn’t even presented yet.”

“It’s not impossible. It’s more common for wolves to find their mate after presenting, but it’s not necessarily the rule. I think… We think he imprinted on you a long time ago.”

When you didn’t say anything he continued.

“You know he’s had the biggest crush on you for a while, Y/N. What if it wasn’t a simple crush? You saw how he reacted when I touched you that night… No wolf would be that agitated unless it’s their mate that’s being touched. All the signs have always been there, we just dismissed them.”

“I- I don’t know what to do with that information, Jae…” you said, biting your lip nervously.

“I thought you liked him too…” he accused.

“Me?!”

“Yes, you. You have a soft spot for him, you always ask for him when we hang out, you bring him snacks and presents for no reason, you smile like an idiot when he talks and you are incredibly touchy with him.”

“That’s just…”

“Don’t bullshit me, Y/N. We all knew you had a thing for him. If you like him, go for it. But if you don’t like him like that, send him home now and don’t toy with his feelings,” he warned you before sighing and softening his voice. “You’re my friend, Y/N, and he’s my pack brother. I want the best for both of you, okay? I gotta go, call me if anything happens.”

When he hung up you placed your phone on the kitchen counter and went to your room to check on Jisung. There would be time to ask him about his feelings and talk things out properly after he drank something hot and was more comfortable, you thought as you knocked on your bedroom door a few times.

“Jisung, are you ready? Do you want hot chocolate? or something to eat?” you asked, trying your best to hide how affected you were after that phone call. But the only reply you heard was something that sounded like a muffled cry. “Jisung?” you insisted only to get a louder cry in response. Worried, you opened the door and stood there speechless.

The clothes you had prepared for him were scattered on the floor along with the towel you had given him earlier. Jisung was completely bare on your bed, mounting your pillow and rutting against it desperately, while water drops traveled from his hair to your bedsheets, where his face was buried, muffling his incessant moans.

“J-jisung…” his name was the only thing you would say and he finally turned his body to the side slightly to look at you, allowing you to catch a glimpse of the precum leaking from his reddened cock, staining your pillowcase.

“N-noona,” his voice was an octave deeper than usual. “Noona, everything smells l-like you…” he whimpered, fucking the pillow harder and faster without breaking eye contact with you. “I-I’m so close-” was the last thing he managed to say before a deep moan echoed through the room and his hips stilled, his buttcheeks contracting a couple of times, pressing his member harder against the soft fabric.

He laid limp on the bed, hooded eyes still looking at you, the strange dance of eye colors happening again told you that he was being consumed by his wolf again.

“Sorry,” he finally panted. “I made a mess...”

“I-it’s okay!” your voice cracked because you were actually not okay, but you knew he had no control over his body right now and the last thing you wanted was to make him feel guilty about it. “There’s some tissues on my nightstand, so- uh how about you c-clean yourself up and g-get dressed?” you nervously walked closer to him, picked up the clothes from the floor and offered them to him.

He slowly sat up, as if his body was too heavy to move. He didn’t even bother covering himself like the shy Jisung normally would. He was far too gone for that. But when he saw the clothes you were trying to give him, he had enough energy to snatch them from you and throw them further away, with an annoyed huff.

“Wha- Jisung!” you reprimanded him. “You have to get dressed!”

“I’m not wearing his clothes,” he hissed. “And neither are you. Those are Jaehyun hyung’s, aren't they?”

Right. The only clothes you had that could fit him were shirts and boxers that Jaehyun would leave behind whenever he crashed at your place. You had prepared those clothes for Jisung before Jaehyun called you to warn you about Jisung’s feelings.

“...Fine,” you sighed in defeat, not wanting to irritate him more. “I’ll go get you something else, but don’t complain if it’s too small for you.”

Before you could walk away, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer to him, making you stand in between his legs, pressing his head against your lower belly.

“Don’t go,” he pouted, planting a soft kiss on your stomach over the thin fabric of your shirt that made you blush even more. “It hurts less when you’re here.”

“Are y-you in pain?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he inhaled deeply and groaned as he caught the smell or your arousal. “But maybe you can help me?” he asked using one of his hands to lift your shirt slightly, kissing your skin directly now and making you gasp. “Can you make it better, noona?” he looked up at you innocently while sticking out his tongue and licking at your hip bone.

“Fuck!” you tilted your head back unconsciously pushing your hips closer to him, which he took as a sign for him to start pulling your sweatpants lower, his mouth kissing and licking every bit of skin he found on his way. “J-jisung, hold on!”

You placed your hands on his shoulders and pushed him away slightly, he whined.

“Why?” he asked, his hands still pulling at the hem of your pants.

“Jisung, I think y-you’re… presenting,” you told him.

He furrowed his brows and looked at you confused, but then his mouth parted slightly as the cogs started turning in his head.

“Oh,” he finally said, dropping his arms to his sides and letting go of you. “Does that make you uncomfortable? Am I scaring you?”

“No!” you softly took his face in your hands and made him look up at you. “That’s not it, Jisung. I just want you to be sure-”

“I’m sure,” he said quickly.

“-And I don’t want you to regret it-”

“I won’t,” he assured you, grabbing one of your hands and bringing it to his mouth so he could give it little kisses. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this for, noona.”

“Jisung… are you- uh… am I your m-mate?” you finally gathered the courage to ask.

“Yes,” he hummed contently, kissing your fingertips. “Mine. Not Jaehyun hyung’s.”

“How can you be s-sure?” you barely managed to ask while looking at his lips wrap around your thumb and suck gently.

“Always knew. Since the first time I saw you,” he said simply, letting go of your fingers with one last kiss. “But you always treated me like a kid, so I waited… hoping you would see me differently once I presented.”

Suddenly, his hands were back on your pants and without a warning he pulled them down, making you lose your balance, which he took as an opportunity to grab your arms and pull you on his lap, one of his hands behind you taking the sweatpants off your legs, leaving you on your shirt and underwear only

“And judging by how wet you are for me, it was worth the wait,” he smirked, caressing your arms and guiding them to his shoulders.

You were incredibly embarrassed but didn’t bother to lie. You knew he could smell your arousal and it was stupid to lie to him. “Sorry, I couldn't help it.”

“Don’t be,” he said, kissing your cheek softly. “It smells really fucking good, but it’s making me really hard…”

You looked down and gasped when you saw that he was indeed incredibly hard for someone who had literally just ejaculated on your pillow.

“Please help me, noona,” he begged, grabbing one of your hands and placing it over his hardness. “It hurts so bad.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from tracing his cock delicately with your fingertips, feeling his body tense up under you.

“I’ll help,” you finally said, wrapping your hand around him, making him moan and release a mantra of ‘thank yous’. “But… you can’t mark me.”

He looked up at you like you were crazy. Marking you was what he wanted the most. You were denying him the ultimate pleasure of owning you for the rest of your lives. Frustrated he shook his head and opened his mouth to complain, but then you let go of his member completely, earning a pained gasp from him.

“Jisung, you can’t mark me during your first rut,” you tried to reason with him as he whined incoherently and tried to put your hand back on him. “It 's too soon. If you still want me in the future, then we can think about it, okay?”

He looked up at you with such sad eyes that you almost gave in, but you knew it was better to take things slow. Finally he dropped his head and mumbled a defeated 'okay.'

“Good boy,” you whispered sweetly, making him shudder at the pet name. This time you grabbed him firmly and started pumping him rhythmically without hesitation. He let out the loudest gasp yet and arched his back, hips thrusting against your hand like crazy.

“N-noona!” he dug his fingers into your waist in a desperate attempt to ground himself. “yes, please, yes-yes!”

You were so focused on his fucked out expression that you failed to notice one of his hands making its way into your panties. He quickly found your clit and massaged it, groaning at how wet you were.

“J-jisung!” you panted, trying to wiggle away. “T- this is supposed to be to help you!” you argued but the rest of your complaints were forgotten when one of his long fingers entered you slowly. “Ah!”

“You are helping m-me, noona,” he gasped against your lips, thrusting his finger in and out of you slowly while his thumb circled your clit. “You’re doing s-so …so good f-for me.”

He took you by surprise when he finally connected your lips, swallowing your moans and sliding his tongue into your mouth messily. He made use of this distraction to insert a second finger inside of you and make you sob into the kiss. Your thumb reached the tip of his cock and circled it, imitating the way he was massaging your clit, and successfully making him break the kiss to gasp.

“That’s it, noona,” he gave your lips a couple of messy licks before pressing his forehead against you. “J-just like that-don’t stop…don’t stop, please, don’t stop, don’t fucking stop-”

He moaned and tilted his head back, his fingers mercilessly abusing you while spurts of his cum covered your hand, making you reach your climax while he rode out his. You dropped your head on his shoulder, body limp, trying to catch up your breath but he wouldn’t stop his assault on your clit.

“Ji-,” you squirmed, but he held you in place. “Jisung, I’m s-sensitive.”

“But it hurts,” he pleaded, still breathing heavily. You lifted your head to look at him. His dick was still as hard and red as when you first entered the room.

“Fuck…” you mumbled. “How…?”

“More?” he asked you as innocently as he could, considering his fingers were still inside of you.

“Uh okay, I-... can you lay down?” you asked him, and he nodded eagerly, letting you stand up so he could lay down on the cum stained bed.

“W-what are you gonna-Fuck! Oh fuck, noona-” he moaned as soon as he felt your warm lips on his aching cock. “P-please noona, I- oh… you’re crazy if you t-think I won’t m-mark you after thi-ah!”

You let go of his member with a soft pop and licked the tip softly. “We said no marking, Ji,” you teased him between licks.

“I-I know but-...But noona,oooohh!” he arched his back and grabbed the bedsheets in a pathetic attempt to control himself, tears staining his pretty face. “more, m-more-!”

You gave him more, wrapping your lips around him and sucking, making loud slurping sounds and had him tossing and turning under you, calling your name and sobbing.

“Keep g-going, noona c’mon k-keep-,” his thighs started shaking and his abdomen contracted as a clear sign that he was very close. “Keep sucking, y/n, k-keep sucking my cock, just l-like that noon-ah! keep g-going, keep fucking g-going-,” his desperate mantra between gasps got interrupted by you finally deepthroating him. “Fuuuuckk!”

You hummed around his cock and started lifting your head when you felt both his hands on the back of your head, pushing you down and forcing his dick into your throat. You choked and grabbed his hands, trying to push him away, but he had no intention of letting go, keeping your nose pressed against his navel and your throat contracting against his member in an attempt to breathe.

“Stay,” he growled, using a voice that was unknown to you, deeper and huskier than you’d ever heard him. “Take my cock, just like you’re meant to,” he then gave your head short fast pushes, still pressed against his hips, that made you choke harder and sob, the vibrations making him feel in heaven.

With a final guttural growl, he came in your throat, forcing you to swallow his load before he finally let go of your head, cooing at your coughs.

Once you managed to stop coughing, you looked at him in shock, expecting an apology for losing control like that, but when your eyes met his, you saw no guilt or regret. His eyes full of lust were shining a bright red and a cocky smirk had replaced his shy typical expression.

His wolf had taken over.

“You look so good like this, Y/N,” he said casually, leaving all formalities behind and calling you by your name.

“J-jisung? How d-do you feel?” you asked a bit afraid. You had never seen him like this before.

“Fucking fantastic,” he purred. “Will feel even better after I knot you.”

“K-knot?!”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Oh? So Jaehyun can breed you full of cum but your real mate can’t?” he hissed through gritted teeth.

“No I-...I’ve never t-taken a knot before,” you admitted, suddenly feeling shy, looking down. “I n-never let him…”

“He didn’t knot you?” he repeated.

You shook your head no and he immediately took your face in his hands and pulled you closer to him, kissing you passionately.

“Good girl, y/n. You did well,” he praised you, helping you take your shirt off, and kissing your breasts affectionately. Your back arched into his touch and let him make you feel good. You suddenly felt so small and vulnerable, like you were meant to submit to him.

“Your tiny cunt will only take my knot from now on,” he mumbled against your left breast, circling your nipple with his tongue. “Take my cock only for the rest of your life.”

You moaned and pulled at his hair, your hips rubbing against his softly.

“I’ll mark you so good everyone will know who you belong to…”

That knocked some sense into you.

“J-jisung! We s-said not yet-”

“Sit on my face,” he commanded.

“Huh?!”

“It seems I haven’t made you feel good enough if you still have half a brain to talk back to your alpha,” he grunted, easily manhandling you so your legs were on each side of his head, your pussy hovering dangerously over his face.

“A-alpha?” the term sounded so foreign to you. It was only used among wolves, so you never thought you would have to address anyone like that.

“That’s right,” he purred, kissing your inner thighs. “Alpha will fuck you dumb, okay?” was the last thing he said before pulling your panties to the side and diving in.

You let out a silent scream and grabbed onto the bed headboard for support. His tongue felt hotter than what should be normal and the way he moaned and groaned against you like he was tasting the most delicious of meals sent constant waves of pleasure through your body. You felt yourself cumming faster than ever in your life so you tried to put some distance between yourselves, to avoid coming that fast and embarrassing yourself, but he wouldn’t have any of that. His arms circled your thighs and pulled you down, all your weight on his face making you tremble with pleasure. He chuckled and sucked your sensitive clit into his mouth, using his tongue to toy with it roughly.

“Oh,” you sobbed, panting heavily, “I’m g-gonna cum, Ji- ah! gonna c-cum, Jisung-!”

Your body shook against his hold as he hummed with your clit still inside his mouth, making you cum while screaming so hard, you knew you wouldn’t be able to speak properly for a couple of days.

“Are you okay?” panted Jisung against your core.

“I-I’m…okay,” you replied with difficulty.

Jisung tsked like he was annoyed at the fact that you could still form coherent sentences. “One more then.”

His tongue lolled out of his mouth and his strong hands grabbed your hips, pulling you against him again and moving you back and forth against his soft hot tongue.

“J-jisung w-wait,” you barely gasped. “I can’t c-cum again…”

He raised his brows defiantly and moved you faster against your will, ready to prove you how wrong you were.

“Jisung please-!” you pleaded, but you were starting to feel another build up. How could everything feel so good with him?

Soon you felt your hips move on its own, which gave Jisung the opportunity to touch your body, from your thighs, to your ass and finally massaging your breasts as you rode his tongue thoughtlessly.

“Oh, oh! s-so good, Jisungie-,” you spoke shakily. “Your tongue f-feels so good, a-alpha…”

Jisung moaned and you could see the corners of his lips lift in what would have been a satisfied smirk if it wasn’t because he had you riding his tongue. He knew he had you where he wanted, and he guided your hands to his head, encouraging you to pull his hair as you used him.

“Y-yes,” you moaned, eyes rolling back and your hips bouncing empty-headed against his face. “Yes,yes-yeesss fuck alpha!”

You came so hard you heard a ring in your ears, your body losing all strength and falling back. Jisung caught you right in time and laid you on the bed carefully.

“How are you feeling now?” he asked, voice raspy and face glistening with your juices.

You barely acknowledged that he was talking to you, your eyes unfocused, and body shaking like a leaf with only one thought in your head:

“Ji…alpha,” you let out almost inaudibly.

“Perfect,” Jisung groaned, taking off your ruined panties and positioning himself between your legs, entering you in one go.

You cried out loud and arched your back, tossing your arms around, looking for something to hold onto. Jisung wasn’t doing so well himself, his eyes were wide in shock at how good he felt, and they were switching into golden color again.

“F-fuck, noona,” he sobbed, kissing you pasionately, and giving an experimental thrust that made both of you moan. “Noona, my beautiful noona- h-how can you be so tight and w-warm?”

You weakly lifted your head and saw Jisung looking back at you. Eyes full of adoration gleaming a golden color instead of the dark red you had seen before. Soft and lovely Jisung was back, but for how long?

“S-sorry, noona,” he said as he started fucking you with intent. “Don’t ask me to stop- I c-can’t stop.”

He buried his face into your neck and whispered the sweetest praises, only interrupted by moans that were becoming louder.

“If I don’t m-mark you I’ll d-die, noona ah!,p-please-,” he begged, sucking your neck like you had the mental capacity to deny him anything in this state.

You then heard a chuckle. The wolf was back.

“And you’ll let me, right?” said that dark and velvety voice. “You’ll let alpha mark y-you and fuck you full of cum,yeah?” he sat up and his red eyes devoured you as he grabbed your hips and fucked into you roughly.

You were too fucked up to even moan out loud, your mouth hung open and your eyes rolled back as no sound came out of your spent troath.

“Such a perfect little doll,” he hissed as his hips snapped against you, the bed headboard slamming against the wall loudly. “Won’t ever let you go, Y/N.”

The base of his cock finally started growing in size making him moan shakily and fucking you faster.

“Yes! yes,yes, finally- finally Y/N!”

He laid on top of you and hugged your waist, holding your body against his as his hips pistoned into you, letting out a delirious string of curses, praises and sobs.

“S-sorry, noona,” there was human Jisung again, his forehead against yours as he panted, a couple of his tears landing on your face. “You h-have to take my knot, p-please, you have to- I c-can’t-!”

You couldn’t register his words, as a new and more powerful orgasm took over your body and made you convulse against his strong hold. If you hadn’t been so fucked out you would have seen his mouth wide open as he went cross-eyed and gave a final thrust that settled his knot inside of you, his cock twitching and releasing endless spurts of thick cum.

“O-oh, oh noona…” he sobbed against your neck, finally giving into his instinct and biting you hard.

“Jisung!” you grabbed the back of his head and pulled him closer, moaning as he sucked on the fresh mark. You thought it would hurt more, but it gave you a very pleasant tingly sensation. “Alpha…”

Jisung panted heavily as he lifted his upper body. His eyes were golden again and he was anxiously waiting for your reaction after what had happened.

“I- I couldn’t stop myself, noona,” he bit his lip and flinched when your eyes met his. “I don’t know why I…it just hurt and- then everything became too much-”

You groaned and threw your arms over your face. “That’s why I told you not to mark me,” you whined. “I knew you would regret it!”

“No,” he said firmly. “I don’t regret it.”

When you didn’t reply to him, he grabbed your arms and held them against the mattress on each side of your head.

“Noona, look at me,” he pleaded. “I don’t regret it. It was better than I could ever imagine. I’m just apologizing because you didn’t want it.”

“I did want it,” you whispered. “But I wanted you to be sure first.”

“I’ve been sure for so long, noona,” he kissed your lips softly. “I’ve always wanted you. Please don’t push me away.”

You kissed him back and he sighed against your mouth, deepening the kiss.

And then he thrusted harshly inside of you again, making you almost choke in surprise.

“J-jisung?!”

He opened his eyes slowly and you saw the flickering battle of red and golden happen again, telling you his animal side wanted to come out again.

"Sorry, noona..." he apologized in advance for what was about to happen.

Here we go again.

#nct drabbles #nct imagines #nct smut #nct scenarios #park jisung #jisung smut #park jisung smut #nct dream smut #park jisung x reader

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romantichomicide95 · 11 months

Note

Could you do some more smut with Levi? It can be anything I really liked your other one, maybe where you do it on his desk like that post you made?

Levi x Reader - Midday Sex

I’m just gunna title this midday sex and than maybe write a morning sex to go along with my midnight sex smut.

Summary: Levi asks you to help him with paperwork but as the day drags something else comes to mind, and he can’t help but take you right there. Not proofread.

Warnings : 18+ content. MDNI. NSFW.

Levi asked you to his office to help him with paperwork. Something he did all to often, it’s not that he needed the help, he just wanted the extra time with you. It wasn’t often that you had alone time together, being Scouts made that difficult, so sometimes he’d ask you to his office to get that extra hour of time; just you and him.

He’d watch the way your tongue stuck out slightly when you were extra focused, how that one stubborn piece of hair would always fall in your face; he loved watching you. On this particular day the sun was shining through the windows, illuminating your face. You were his light, the only good thing in his life he thought. Though he’d never be able to formulate the words to tell you as much.

You didn’t notice him staring up at you from his desk. You weren’t in your uniform, it was the weekend and you opted to wear that white floral dress you had. The one that hugged your body in all the right places. His eyes surveyed your body, landing first on your chest, the way you were hunched over on the sofa, laser focused, your breasts spilling out just the right amount to make his cock twitch. He tried to look away but than his eyes found there way to the spot between your legs; you didn’t notice but your dress was hiked up and he could almost see the pretty pink panties you had on underneath.

He adjusted his pants, his thoughts roaming to what he could do between those legs. The way your tight pussy felt around his length, the pretty little moans that always escaped your mouth whenever he fucked you silly. He thinks of the way your lips feel, how forceful your kisses are always hungry to feel his body up against your own.

He tries to shake the thoughts of how badly he wants to rip that dress off you, but it’s almost impossible. Not when you’re right here in front of him, legs slightly open like an invitation for him to crawl in between them. He thinks of the way your juices taste, the way he teases you with his tongue leaving you begging him for more.

It’s impossible for him not think of his hand on your throat or his fingers gagging you, the excitement he feels knowing he has you like putty in the palm of his hands. Finally his eyes land on the way your ass perfectly curves on the couch, how in the position your sitting it’s ever so slightly bent, looking sexy as ever. All he wants to do is grab it, pulling you closer and closer to the bulge in his pants.

“Fuck.” He whispers, you look up at him. His grey eyes are slanted, staring you down, an almost hungry primal look behind them.

“You alright Levi?” you ask.

“Come here.” His voice is raspy and commanding.

You set your stack of paperwork down, and stand in front of him, leaning down to his chair and wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Yes baby? What do you ne-.” Before you can finish your sentence he’s stood and crashed his lips to yours. So forceful you can barely get a breathe in. “Baby, I, slow down.” you say in between kisses.

“Can’t.” He mutters against your lip, biting down on your bottom lip before lifting you onto his desk. “Need you.” You oblige and your legs wrap around his waist but he pushes them apart. His fingers make their way into your panties shoving themselves inside you, he’s not gentle about it and it causes you to wince, your hips bucking off the surface of his desk.

“Fuck Levi.” You moan into his lips as his two fingers fuck you, his thumb circling your clit. Before you can process how quickly everything is happening your underwear is on the floor and his head is between your legs, tongue teasing your slit. He savors the taste of you, tongue licking up your clit, lips sucking at every inch of your walls. “Shi-shit Levi gunna c-cum.” You moan as your first climax comes, his tongue lapping up every bit of you.

“Good girl.” He says looking up at you and pulling your dress off. You reach for his belt, pulling off his pants. All you can think about is the way his fat cock feels inside your cunt, you begin to ache for it.

His lips make there way from your neck to your breasts, biting little territorial marks all along your chest. You grab his cock, already hard as a rock and begin stroking it, paying special attention to massage the head.

He spreads your legs apart, hoisting one over his shoulder before shoving his cock inside you. His thrust are fast and rough, he’s drunk off the way you feel around him. The way your walls clench at his length. “F-fuck you feel so good.” His rough hands are on your hips, gripping them tightly surely to leave a bruise. Pulling them into his body as he fucks you senseless. His eyes wander along your naked body laid out on his desk, your head rolled back in ecstasy. The moans escaping your mouth, relishing in the way your begging him “don’t stop captain, f-faster please.”

His cock buries itself inside you, your stomach clenches with how deep he is. One hand reaches to your neck, choking you slightly as tears brim in your eyes but you don’t want it to stop. The way his hips move against your own is too pleasurable, too much like heaven. You grip the edge of his desk as you feel your orgasm coming again, “gunna c-cum again for you.” Your back arches and your fingers feel numb from clenching the wood. Tears stream down your face as you cum all over his cock, your whimpers never silent.

He follows suit pulling out and cumming all over your stomach. You look up at him, his muscles glistening with sweat. His raven hair stuck to his forehead falling in his face. He’s sexy, you think. Always so sexy.

He grabs a rag and cleans you up, always ever so cleanly. “Fuck Levi, I was not expecting that.” You say breathless. He kisses you twice once on the lips and once on the forehead before cleaning himself off. He looks up at you through the hair in his eyes. Seeing you still naked sprawled on his desk, legs open, pussy red and aching causes his cock to twitch again. His eyes falls to your breasts, nipples hard sweat dripping between them. You’re such a pretty sight. He knows he needs to get this paperwork done, but he just can’t help himself.

“Wanna go for round two?”

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solomons-finest-rum · 1 year

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Hello to one of my favourite Alfie fic writers! Since you're taking requests, I'd like to make one as well.

I don't know how it works but how about a scenario/imagine where Tommy gets in some kind of trouble (as always) and Alfie suggests that his lovely gangster wife could help and goes to introduce them but as it turns out it's none other than the Shelby's sister/cousin/relative/friend/or maybe even an ex? (Your call one this one) who they thought was dead or something?

Idk if it's even worth your time and effort but I just wanted to make a request ;) No pressure, of course!

Love you and your writing a lot!

“As The Crow Flies” (Alfie Solomons x fem!Reader) — PART 1

SUMMARY — By all accounts Anna Gray died in Australia and had no business standing in Alfie’s living room, nor calling the man “darling” for that matter. But there you were, identical to the picture they took when they shipped you off to the colonies.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — Thank you to @zablife for being the most gracious beta!💗💗💗💗💗 and thank you Anon for this request, because actually it inspired a full-blown multi-chapter idea! So this is set around... Season 5 I suppose? But I'm going to ignore everything in it and Season 6 too. Let's pretend none of it happened and just focus on the fun part! That is driving Tommy insane and making Alfie say outrageous lines.

WORD COUNT — 2,286

Masterlist

In retrospect, Tommy Shelby felt he should have known better. He should have fucking known that the moment, the moment, he came to Margate to sort the bloody situation out, exactly two things would happen.

One, he would have to sit and listen with a straight face to Alfie’s inspired monologue, the subject of which had swerved from elephants to bank robbery in about two and a half minutes, and then managed to touch upon just about everything else under the sun.

Tommy remained quite sure that the sense of Alfie’s rambling had been long lost to history and the point of it all was just to talk him to death, really. Put him out of his misery with nonsense alone.

“Now then, Tommy, as I said, right, I ain’t the vindictive type, I really ain’t, so I am gonna help ya out just this once, right, outta the goodness of my own heart.”

Tommy managed not to roll his eyes. Barely.

“‘Cause I am a changed man these days, Tommy, an’ it can be that the old man that I am, I’m goin’ soft on ya, right, an’ so tradition dictates, mate, to ask for more than ten thousand for my troubles.”

Tommy raised a brow.

“But as things currently stand with the medical bills, on the account of bein’ shot in the face by some cunt, right… Fifteen would sound proper fair, mate.”

Thank fuck for small mercies, Tommy thought, then lit another cigarette and promptly got up to leave. Alfie apparently managed to settle both sides of the conversation, negotiations included, and their American problem could very well sort itself out all on his own—thus proving to Tommy once more that the only thing he could really count on in this world had always been lunatics.

“Right, the fuck you’re doin’ now, sit down!”

Tommy frowned and remained standing, cigarette in the corner of his mouth and sheer outrage emanating from his entire person. The question of “what in fuck’s name do you want now, you crazy bastard?” overtook his face.

“Right, I need to make a bloody phone call,” Alfie said then, which explained exactly nothing.

Yes, that was the second thing Tommy had been so sure would happen. Alfie would first go on a tangent, then formulate a plan that involved three separate layers of deception, a bribe, and a crate of dynamite (probably).

Then Tommy would get caught in the middle as bloody always and Polly would have his head for going along with Alfie’s plan in the first place.

What he didn’t expect was for Alfie to change his tone of voice completely as soon as the person picked up on the other end:

“Yeah, darlin’, it’s me. Come to the house, alright? Right, ‘cause I need ya here for somethin’. No, not like the— Bloody hell, woman, just don’t fuckin’ argue with me for once, alright?”

Sometimes a rare occasion would present itself for Tommy Shelby to become fucking speechless. Truth be told, he remained rather surprised that two such occasions had also involved Alfie Solomons, undoubtedly purely for the Devil’s bloody amusement.

“Who was that then, Alfie?”

“None of ya fuckin’ business.”

Tommy had a sneaky feeling there wasn’t a clever enough question in existence that could have pushed Alfie to say anything more. He looked smug as hell for having pulled that stunt off so Tommy was willing to see it through.

For old time’s sake.

The sun was setting and they had another drink, then Tommy let Alfie go on another tangent about… Tea import. Perhaps. Who knew, he wasn’t really listening.

On drink three Tommy was alerted by a car pulling up to the house, followed by a door slam and a rhythmic clacking of high heels on the porch. Tommy looked to Alfie, but the man remained infuriatingly calm.

Just as Tommy was about to reach for his gun, the door to Alfie’s study opened unceremoniously and a scent of expensive perfume wafted across the room. Tommy turned around and tried his best to keep up the indifferent facade, but failed miserably. Nothing could have prepared him for you walking through that door, with a giant bodyguard no less, following you like a second shadow.

“Alright there, Billy?” Alfie greeted the bodyguard casually and the man grunted in response. “Right then, might ya wait in the car for us, mate? This whole bloody business will take a minute.”

Tommy then watched as Alfie approached you and planted an affectionate kiss to your cheek, at which point Tommy stood up abruptly.

For a moment he just stood there and stared; a state he didn’t find himself in too often these days.

“Darling, are we having guests?” you asked Alfie in a tone so familiar to Tommy; so like your mother. Pleasant, on the verge of sarcastic.

By God, either that Camden bastard was a magician or you had a twin sister that Polly never mentioned. Because it wasn’t possible… It couldn’t be you. Not according to the file he stole from the parish. By all accounts Anna Gray died in Australia and had no business standing in Alfie’s living room, nor calling the man “darling” for that matter. But there you were, identical to the picture they took when they shipped you off to the colonies.

“Right then, Tommy, might I present my lovely wife,” Alfie said. “Sweetie, this here is Tommy Shelby, right, all the way from the ungodly place they call Birmingham—”

“Tommy Shelby?” you interrupted and looked at Tommy with a smile so like Polly’s that Tommy nearly lost his composure again. “My, my… And there you went and promised you were done with the life, Alfie.”

“Right, an’ how could that—”

“Anna,” Tommy interrupted what he was sure was a budding monologue from Alfie.

“Yes?” you asked. “You know my name?”

“I… Know your mother.”

“Know?” There it was again. That curious smirk of yours that could really mean anything. Tommy found it harder and harder to keep up the charade.

“But that’s not possible, Mr. Shelby.”

“What’s not possible?”

Your tone remained polite, but your dark eyes said it all. The expression of quiet resolve Tommy thought only one person capable of delivering with such resentment.

“I’m an orphan, Mr. Shelby.”

Tommy said nothing to that, because what in hell could he even say? All of a sudden the American issue faded into nothingness, replaced solely by the phantom standing before him.

“So you did not lie, I see,” you turned to your husband with a quizzical expression, seeing as Tommy went quiet again. “He really is as strange as the papers make him. No matter, though, Mr. Shelby, I hope you like chicken? My husband insists I’m a terrible cook, but you must stay for dinner.”

Tommy nodded mechanically and put out his cigarette just to busy his hands with something. When he looked at Alfie, though, Tommy noticed how the man’s mouth twitched, clearly indicating the scheme was playing exactly how he wanted it to. Mad bastard, Tommy thought. There was no saying if he was being played or tricked or helped. Probably all at once, but solely for Alfie’s benefit of course.

“Right, curious as I am, luv, what delectable fuckin’ option you maimed and butchered for dinner, Tommy isn’t stayin’—” Alfie then stopped himself when two sets of identical Shelby scowls got directed his way.

Tommy did stay for dinner and made sure to clean his plate, too. He didn’t mind the food at all; it reminded him of Polly’s simple cooking back in the day when she would take care of Tommy and his siblings in Small Heath.

The more he listened to you talk and bicker with Alfie, the more of your mother he saw in you and the angrier he got at seeing you here of all places, as Alfie’s wife, unable to speak to you in plain terms. Tommy wasn’t exactly sure which made him angrier, though—the fact that you were Alfie’s wife or the fact that the sly bastard had kept you from your true family for who knows how many years. How did he even find you?

All the questions he had were still swirling around in Tommy’s head and he wasn’t particularly paying attention to anything else, besides staring daggers at Alfie. He was hoping there would be a moment to talk to you alone, but of course your husband would never allow it. He watched Tommy like a hawk the entire evening, sometimes with just a hint of a smile to suggest he was still three steps ahead of everyone else.

“See you never got accustomed to that fancy cookin’ they’re offerin’ ya at the mansion these days, Tommy,” Alfie said, undoubtedly truly enjoying the charade. “Tommy’s an MP, darlin’, right about two steps from gettin’ a knighthood I reckon. Yeah, a real prince he is.”

The way Alfie said the word was so clearly a jab at Tommy’s ancestry that he didn’t even flinch. What he was curious about was your reaction, but you remained perfectly pleasant:

“Don’t tease, love, we haven’t had guests in ages and I’m not letting you drive this one away.”

When the maid took away the plates, you lit a cigarette in a swift overdone gesture and Tommy was once more taken aback with your resemblance to Polly.

“Well, I’ll leave ya both to it,” you announced as you got up. “It was a pleasure, Mr. Shelby.” You extended your hand and Tommy shook it. “I know you tried your best with the chicken and I appreciate it,” you paused and tilted your head to the side as if sizing Tommy up.

“I rarely trust your husband’s judgement,” he replied.

The way you smiled reminded Tommy of a cat that got into the pantry. He decided not to think about it too much.

“I see. Goodnight then, Mr. Shelby.”

As soon as Tommy heard you got upstairs, he turned to Alfie who, unsurprisingly, already had a gun pointed at him. It was a casual way of it that was the most infuriating—Alfie’s hand was more so resting on the table and the gun just happened to be there, pointing at Tommy.

“Now then, Tommy, let’s be reasonable about this, mate.”

Tommy clenched his jaw and remained silent, but his murderous glare said it all.

“There are four people at the house, right, includin’ you, me, my wife, then the maid… Then there’s Billy outside, right, who’s gonna be rightly worried once he doesn’t get my dismissal for the night. So I want ya to be real cold an’ calculated about it, Tommy, just like I know ya can be, ‘cause if ya decide to off me for no reason now…”

“No reason.”

“Right.”

“You’re old enough to be her father.”

“Yeah an’ fortunately I’m not, ‘cause that’d be right fuckin’ awkward at the temple, mate.”

“Temple?”

“What’d ya think, Tommy, that I smacked her over the head and dragged her into my cave?”

“Somethin’ like that.”

“Right, we’ll have to show ya the pictures then, she looked stunnin’.” Alfie leaned back in his chair. “Tell ya what, mate, why don’t ya come by for tea one day?”

“Tea.”

“Yeah. We have it, Tommy, we’re not animals.”

Tommy said nothing to that. He was still reviewing his options, but as he wasn’t a fan of spontaneous action, the patient approach seemed appropriate. The offer, though, just like everything else about the situation, was fucking infuriating.

“Cat got your tongue?”

“Fuck you, Alfie.”

That finally made Alfie smile and for some reason he lowered the gun.

“Right, so seein’ as we’re family, Tommy, and what a happy coincidence this is, I must say, I feel like we should talk fuckin’ proper. None of that shit.” Alfie then gestured between them as if he hadn’t been responsible for “that shit” in the first place.

“We’ve been talking, Alfie,” Tommy deadpanned.

“Yeah, but then there’s still somethin’ ya haven’t told me about your American troubles, isn’t there, mate, so I’m expectin’ you’ll be more honest with me in the future. Now that I’ve brought the right arguments to the table…”

The hint of a threat in that statement almost made Tommy wish he still had his razor cap around.

“She’s Polly’s only daughter, Alfie.”

“Right, I’m aware of that.”

Tommy nodded, feigning understanding between them. As always, handling Alfie very much resembled handling a live grenade without a pin.

“This can’t be the way to end things.”

“Who’s endin’ things, Tommy?”

“I’m just saying.”

“Yeah, an’ I’m going to let this one slide, Tommy, ‘cause you just got a lot to process, mate, so I’m prepared to be understandin’.”

Tommy shook his head and reached into his jacket pocket, at which Alfie uncocked the gun. Tommy slowly pulled out his cigarette box, but Alfie never even flinched. It was gruesomely reassuring to still have been right, even in the position that Tommy currently found himself in.

Alfie Solomons would always remain Alfie Solomons, even with the whole song and a dance about getting old and senile. He was still the same mad bastard Tommy came to know all those years ago, and as things stood, Tommy found himself wondering if this time he shouldn’t try poison instead of a bullet.

“Tommy,” Alfie sighed, “with three good eyes workin’ between us, mate, I really would greatly mind if I somehow acquired a fuckin’ tumour in my lungs, too.”

Tommy said nothing and he knew Alfie hated it.

“Which means put that shit out, mate, and listen to what I’m about to say, ‘cause I got a feeling you’ll really wanna hear it.”

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