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#Off to a strong start and I am in desperate need of more
ploompkin · 22 hours
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Idk whether I’ll have time to finish this, but…! Here- just a teaser of what could maybe-in-future be a full fic. Based on @ohsayit ‘s scenario I reblogged earlier 🤭
Summary: You steal Zevlor’s shirt. He wants it back. …And he’s willing to fight for it.
Pairing: (gender neutral) Zevlor/Reader ; Zevlor/Tav
Rating: T
Cw(s): Suggestive!! General sauciness, but nothing explicit.
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“Tav.” Zevlor reaches out his hand, stance firm. “I need it. Give it here. Now, please.”
You prop your chin up on your knuckles, elbows on your knees, smug, because despite the irritation in his voice you can tell by his face that the sight of the oversized sleeves swallowing up your hands has him smitten.
With the most obnoxious smirk you can manage, you issue the challenge. “Come take it off me yourself.”
He sets his jaw, eyes narrowing dangerously. “You’re sure want to play this game?”
As an answer, you just lean back and undo another button— the shirt now gaping so wide it’s just short of exposing a nipple— and stick the tip of your tongue out. His reaction is priceless, body stiffening as his expression flits between aroused and annoyed too many times to count, until it settles on… neither. He looks at you blankly, and just when you’re wondering whether you’ve finally broken him, he lunges for you. You both fall backwards into your tent as you collide, landing in an awkward heap among the cushions. His initiative is better than yours though, and before you can even think what your next move will be, he has you pinned beneath him by the wrists. Both of your breaths mix, along with your gazes, heated. Then, you brace one foot on his thigh and lock your arms around his shoulder, throwing him off effortlessly- but he’s prepared for that, and immediately breaks into a roll to escape a counter attack, pushing himself up into a crouch. You mimic his stance (not like there’s room to stand in the tent anyway), and eye him warily. His tail swishes from side to side, a playful, but confident smile on his face.
“The shirt, Tav.”
But this is about more than the shirt now. This is about pride.
You lift your chin in defiance. “I’m starting to get attached to it, actually. Think I’ll keep it.”
He growls. “That wasn’t a request.”
“And that wasn’t a surrender.”
“Torm’s tears, you’re so…!—“ He grinds his teeth— “stubborn…!”
You just wink at him. “I am. And that’s why you love me.”
He huffs, but you see the lines of his face soften. Unfortunately though, although he calls you stubborn he’s much the same, and this fight is far from over. He stalks over to you, but before he can get close enough for whatever he has planned, you rush to tackle him at the waist. That proves to be a mistake. You might be agile and have a solid technique, but he has all of that and a set of infuriatingly strong muscles. So, you find yourself underneath him. Again. It’s enough to make your blood boil, irritating you as much as it is very rapidly turning you on— but when his teeth graze against your neck, your body quickly decides to favour the latter. A sigh falls from your lips as he kisses along the sensitive skin, followed by a shiver as he drags his tongue over your pulse, torturously slowly. His body feels so pleasantly firm against yours, and you’re suddenly desperate to have more of him, arching your hips up into his with what you’ll deny is a quiet whine. The adrenaline from the fight transforms into something else entirely, your head spinning with want as he encourages you, rocking against you.
Then, you feel it. Fingers creeping between you two, presumably trying to be stealthy, and moving to undo the rest of the shirt buttons.
Bastard!
Now he’s not expecting your resistance you’re more easily able to reverse your positions, pinning him in place with your thighs, doing your best to ignore the longing ache between them.
“You thought I wouldn’t notice you trying to steal it? Really?”
“Steal!” Zevlor scoffs, “I’m just taking back what is mine.”
“By seducing me.” You lean in closer, smiling sweetly. “What an underhanded technique for such an honourable soldier.”
He scowls at you. “If I remember correctly- and I most certainly do- you flashing me is the whole reason we’re in this mess.”
“Ahh, so it did get you hot and bothered. That’s good to know.”
“I’m only a man, Tav.” He grumbles. “I can hardly be blamed for it.”
“No.” Your smile widens, “but you can be for your actions. Tackling me into the tent?” You tsk. “Really, Zev. I took you for a gentleman.”
His lips twitch up at the corner, eyes hooded as he watches you. “You seemed to enjoy it well enough.”
Your mouths are only a hairs width apart now, and you can feel each heavy breath he takes as if it were your own. Just for a moment you forget yourself, and swallow thickly. He spots the bob of your throat and chuckles, hand sliding up the back of your neck and threading into your hair.
“One last chance,” he murmurs against your ear. “Return what you stole, and I’ll go easy on you. If not…”
He knows he doesn’t even need to finish the thought; your imagination will do the rest.
“You’re expecting me to beg for your mercy, rider?” He shudders as your lips brush, and your tongue darts out to kiss his lower lip. “Dream on.”
You groan lowly as his hands grab onto your hips, claws sinking in just shy of drawing blood.
“Mrag, your insolence knows no bounds.” A dark laugh tickles your cheek. “Very well. But don’t blame me if come tomorrow morning you regret it.”
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thatgirl4815 · 9 months
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Characterization & Relationships (Ep1)
Since we (finally!) have a reasonable look at each of the characters in ep1, I thought I'd try to sort out what's driving them and where the majority of their conflicts will stem from.
Up first:
Ray
What a disaster. The promotional material has done an excellent job of catering to the facet of Ray's personality that he would like others to see: rich, popular, suave, sexy...essentially someone whose got it all put together. But the Only Friends PR is as much a guise as this "rich Ray" personality. In actuality, he's drunk for 99% of the episode, he's sassy, and he's pitifully jealous of Top's relationship with Mew. I'd also wager that his apparent alcoholism extends beyond a "college kid who likes to party too much." Whether or not this becomes a major talking point in the series remains to be seen; not to get into theorizing territory too much, but I suspect part of Ray’s conflict with Sand will be that Sand exposes Ray’s flaws a lot (namely, just how much attention he needs). We already saw that a bit with episode one. But hopefully in drawing out this trait, Ray will change for the better.
All in all, it's clear that Ray is drowning. I think what Ray wants most is company. He might delude himself into thinking he only wants someone of a certain "caliber," given his own wealth and supposed status, but as Khao said, he's someone who needs love. (I also have thoughts on why Ray would have a crush on Mew in particular that might be best-suited for a different post, which—if you’re interested—you can find here!)
I have to admit too that I was honestly expecting to hate Ray, especially in episode one. He was certainly arrogant (for example: automatically assuming that Sand must have slept with him when he was drunk). But all in all, my thoughts on Ray were a mixture of pity and humor. Whereas Boston is shameless in his pursuit of Top (screwing over Mew in the process), Ray spends the episode chaotically pining after Mew, squabbling with Sand, and puking on floors.
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^I do know that I want to protect him from whatever it is that's making him sob like this (unless, of course, it's his own asshole-ish behavior towards Sand, in which case it's probably deserved).
*Side Note: I'm wondering at what point Ray's friend group will make mention of his bad drinking habits as a sign of some greater mental issues...I'd expect Mew to bring it up at greater length soon, but maybe he thinks Ray will get defensive. Food for thought.
Sand
Oh Sand. Starting beef in the bathroom right off the bat (pun intended). He’s headstrong and—as I assume is the point—seems to have his life together where Ray does not. He also alludes to his unfortunate financial situation and seems to dislike Ray immediately because of it (perhaps without meaning to).
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Sand’s conflict, as far as I can tell, is all physical—financial. But Ray’s is inside. I’d argue that Sand realizes that on some level. I think he’s fascinated by Ray. Once he gets over his annoyance, there’s a hint of curiosity there, maybe even pity.
From Sand’s standpoint, it’s easy to get mad at people like Ray. But we see he’s also forgiving (he states that he doesn’t like to hold grudges), sincere, and helpful. Rather than let Ray attempt to drive home alone (or fall asleep in the bar parking lot), he takes him back to his place, pats his back while he vomits in the toilet, gives him a place to sleep on the couch with new clothes, etc. So really what I’m saying is that Sand is the perfect boyfriend.
At least as far as Ray and Sand are concerned—I’m ready to fight for either one of them. They’re different enough that I think their dynamic will be one to progress slower than the other couples, but in a very meaningful way.
Top
In my opinion, Top is the most difficult character to read. As opposed to Ray's chaotic arrogance, his is dripping with composure. He gives an air of maturity that the other characters lack, and it's the perfect cover for his supposedly dishonest sleeping habits. I think the opening verse in "Let's Try" speaks to him well--he doesn't seek out other men for love. I don't think he's fully committed to being in a relationship with Mew at this point, but his curiosity has been piqued enough to give it a chance. To put it bluntly: he's challenging himself to see just how long it takes to get into Mew's pants. (Part of that challenge might have to do with Boston, to prove that he can make Mew more than a one night stand.)
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I wonder if Top gets frustrated by his lack of (physical) intimacy with Mew and that's what drives him back to Boston. He rejected Boston pretty hard in ep1, but I'm curious to know how long that will last. I'd say the earlier the better when it comes to salvaging Top and Mew's relationship.
I'm not sure what I was expecting from TopMew's relationship to start with, but it's taking off at a relatively fast pace status-wise. By the end of the first episode we have Top asking Mew to be his boyfriend, which will surely stir up drama and will likely send both Ray and Boston stumbling into Sand and Nick's arms.
Mew
Mew has been regarded in the fandom as a bit more than he seems. But besides the end-credits clip of him sitting alone, I'm not getting any mysteriousness (yet) from his character. From his interactions, we can tell he has strong values, an intuitive mind, and a distinct sense of self. He knows who he is. (Again, I think these traits connect directly to why Ray is so interested in him.)
I see Mew and Namchueam as the anchors of the friend group. While Ray and Boston are chaotic and self-centered, these two are both looking out for everyone. I also have to admire Mew's conviction when saying no to Top--he isn't going to cave and have a one night stand with a hot, popular guy just because his friends tell him to.
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All of these attributes point to one hell of a revenge plot when Top inevitably wrongs him. But despite how reserved and composed Mew seems now, I wonder if that will be what pushes him over the edge and scares away his "nice boy" persona. Mew's composure now could lead him to have the biggest spiral later.
Boston
To put it bluntly: Boston is exactly the kind of playboy dick-face I thought he would be. Neo plays him perfectly. He's arrogant, confident, self-centered, and attention-seeking.
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If Top is "the top of the top" (again, pun intended) as far as FWBs go, then Boston can't stand the thought of Top settling for someone he views as lesser-than. Boston's inflated ego is like a blinding light in this episode. While Ray is jealous of Mew and clearly wants to drive Mew away from Top, Boston evidently has no problem directly sabotaging the relationship. The last scene between Boston and Top in the bathroom is proof--if Top had initiated anything, Boston would have had no problem sleeping with him and talking to Mew later as if nothing had happened.
Nick
Nick seems to be unfortunate collateral in Boston's egotistical destruction. At the moment, it’s a beneficial relationship for both of them. There's a spark between them, plus Boston needs another buddy to keep his mind off of his failing pursuits with Top. We haven't seen much of Nick yet besides his *ahem* blatant interest in Boston, so I can't say much beyond that. But from what we saw of his character in the tech store, he seems a little absent-minded, helpful, and generally friendly. I'm interested to see what more of him we will see.
Namchueam
Maybe it's because we haven't seen much of her background yet, but she seems to be the most put-together out of the friend group (with the exception of maybe Mew, but he has his own problems too). It's clear she looks out for her friends and wants what's best for them. Seeing her hyping Mew up about Top was endearing, because it's clear she truly wants him to be happy and live on the edge a little more. I want to know how she's going to get wrapped up in all this mess.
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~ X ~
Ok, that's my basic analysis of the characters and core relationships from Ep1. I think everything is developing at a quick pace with a lot of drama already in the works. Excited to see where it goes from here and what everybody else's thoughts are on this mess/+ of a plot, lol.
P.S. me after every new episode of OF:
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samodivaa · 21 days
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║drool on dog tags║
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Bucky x Reader : They sway in your face during sex... (smut) {request}
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There’s nothing more dangerous than a man with charm—and Bucky looks like a deity—a small smile tips up one corner of your mouth as you look in his eyes which are powder-blue and still rimmed with the longest lashes you have ever seen on a man. His mouth comes down on yours without further warning. Not hard or violently or forcefully. But fully, with complete contact. He comes directly to you, seizing your face between his hands, and capturing your mouth beneath his. “I am going to shower, Bucky" 
"Is that an initiation? We can shower later” 
He cajoles, hoping he sounds convincing rather than needy. Tortuously slow, Bucky licks his lips, rolling his hips fluidly against yours. It’s a struggle to swallow back a groan when you bite his lower lip slightly. You are covered only by a towel, his mind running amuck over what the towel is hiding—sexual perversions mix with lust as his mind sees in scattered images of varying vulgarity. Bucky grips your waist and lifts you off the ground with ease, dropping you softly on the luxurious white linen bed, your body fully exposed to him. You lick your lips at the sight of his broad shoulders and an athletic physique that even a jacket cannot hide. Your eyes continue their upward travel to his strong square-shaped face, framed with short brown hair that falls to his shoulders and deep, blue eyes. He disrupts your thoughts by stripping his shirt off, shorts, boxers—letting only the dog tags trail over his chest.
He then craws on top of you and he cannot articulate a word, capable only of an animal sound, a strangulated wheeze that shocks him deeply, enraging him, this sudden loss of the faculty of speech that feels somehow bestial and forgotten. His body hovers above you as he leans down to kiss you. You're perfect when you're underneath him, it's where you belong, beautiful face and pretty eyes lock onto his—your warmth cushioning him, your obedient body lush, your eyes flashing—and all he wants is to ruin you. His lips are once again on your skin, devouring everything he can—licking, sucking, and kissing. He drags his lips up your throat, along your jaw, back toward your mouth before leaning back to let his hips slowly rut against you, length parting your folds and rubbing over your clit, dragging his pre-come up between your lips. You simultaneously release a harsh moan as he buries himself deep with an upward thrust. You are grateful that he doesn't start slow, but slams into you with no remorse, the need for fucking poisoning his mind. Bucky brings both of your wrists above your head and grips them in his metal arm, restraining them from moving—It's a sinful sight each time he buries the length of his cock all the way inside you, shaft slick and wet and glistening when he pulls it out. He loves watching it happen. You make the prettiest noises when he shoves in deep only to pull out and slam himself back inside, his eyes roll backwards as the dog tags make melodious ringing sounds right above your face with every thrust.
“Can you feel my cock slipping in and out…feels good, doesn’t it?”
When you don’t answer in time, he stops and lifts his gaze towards yours. You feel a jolt of some foreign but not unwelcome sensation piercing your body. You look so—slutty. There is something raw and pleading in his eyes that surpasses sexual desire, these fleeting moments of carnal craving—his dog tags continue to whirl in your hot mouth, drool dribbles from your corners on your lips—but your greedy tongue is always ravenous…for anything. It is the dirty, sinful element that gives pleasure to the act of lust, then the dirtier it is, the more pleasurable it is bound to be. He pulls out, only the tip remains inside. 
“Don’t-” you whimper desperately. Without warning, he pushes his whole length. He focuses his attention on your lips. His trusts are slow and his stare makes your walls clench around him.
“Don’t stop?” He chuckles softly, voice going deeper as he picks up the pace and fucks you into the mattress, his thrusts only getting rougher. “Is that what you want? Need me to fuck you till you come, baby?” he mumbles, not looking away from your lips, his gaze devouring you.
He has to take a deep breath. He tries to breathe, trying to avoid cumming, but your filthy mouth rips his soul and hypnotizes his brain—and your eyes, eyes that bare into his heart, making his dick twitch. The wet squelching, your shy moans, the way your walls tighten around cock is enough to make him cum. His dick keeps on slamming into you, the sight of his well-muscled body, covered in a thin layer of sweat, invites you to utter depravity, it is what drives you over the edge. You whimper and screw your eyes tight as another wave of pleasure spreads throughout your body in orgasmic tingles as he pulls his own climax with you. He finally presses his face against your neck as his hips lose any and all sense of tempo and when he finally stills, he holds himself deep inside as he leans back—with every breath, your bust heaves, sweat droplets running between them and attracting his gaze.  But what pollutes his mind even more—is when he pulls the dog tags away from your mouth, sticky strands of spit spilling between your lips and the small metal plates as you share collective gasps of breath. Sometimes, to regain sanity, one has to acknowledge and embrace the madness.
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moonalumi · 5 months
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getting caught with ellie
[nsfw 18+]
—this is rrly short i’m sorry guys 😔 i’m working on a farm ellie fic WHICH YALL ARE FINNA DEVOUR
warnings- starts off with smut, scissoring, getting caught ofc,
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your gasps fill the room each time ellie moves her hips. both your wetness clashing together and each time your clit hits hers, you claw at her back. bringing her closer to you.
“ellie ellie…oh fuck” you whimper out as ellie spreads your legs wider with her strong grip and fucks herself onto you. the bed creaking louder and louder.
“fuck baby your so wet…keep- slipping” ellie stutters, her eyes focused on where your pussy gushes onto hers so she can get the angle just right.
one hard jut of your girlfriends hips and you choke out a loud moan, pulling her impossibly more closer to you and impulsively bitting on her shoulder. ellie lets out a groan and grinds into you faster, this time the beds headboard bangs against the wall, covering the filthy sounds of your pussys wetness mixing together.
“oh fuck fuck ellie ellie!” you frantically chant as you feel your orgasm quickly approaching. your hands moving all over her before landing on her forearms and digging your nails into them.
“nghnn baby i’m gonna cum all over that pussy” she breathlessly whispers. her hips stutter and her hands grip your thighs harshly.
“ellie ellie yes please please!” you whine, not breaking eye contact with her as you let out a high pitched moan and cum on her pussy.
ellie’s eyes rolls back after hearing you repeat her name over and over again. both of you making a mess between each others thighs. both of you wet and glistening with each others cum.
the bed creaking stops as ellie falls down on top of you due to her exhaustion. you pull a blanket over your sweaty bodies and catch your breaths together. that is until you hear a loud knock on the door and the sound of a throat clearing behind it.
“uh ellie, maria and tommy really need you for something right now, are you uh- busy?” you hear the voice of joel’s usually deep voice turn timid and shaky.
you both freeze and ellie lifts her head off your chest to speak, “uh um yeah i’ll go there in a bit.”
you hear footsteps walking away the door and you both let out a sigh. ellie looks at you, hiding a smirk and you smack her, hiding your face in your hands.
“ellie stopppp! how am i ever gonna face him ever again after-“
“after he heard you moan my name a hundred times?” ellie teases.
you groan and push her face away from yours after she tries kissing you.
“el this is so embarrassing, how are you not embarrassed your practically his daughter”
“i’m just never going to talk to him again” ellie jokes and wraps her arms around you, trapping you in her hold.
“baby cmon let’s go take a shower you have stuff you need to do” you say ushering her up.
ellie groans and pouts, desperately trying to hold you still and keep you in bed “i’ll get up only if we can have a round 2 in the shower.”
this girl rrly can’t ever get enough
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beenbaanbuun · 2 months
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pussy drunk w/ mingi
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back on my munch!mingi shit… send help
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no one is as insane about pussy drunk mingi as i am… swear to god mingi has just been on my mind all day and i need to get my thoughts off my chest.
like i fully believe that this man always goes into it believing he’s going to be strong. pull one, maybe two orgasms out of you with his mouth before moving on and sticking his cock in you. he’s not going to get carried away… not this time!
but then he actually gets in between your legs and he can see your pretty pussy squeezing around nothing, pushing your clear juices out of you. he watches the way they dribble down your slit, slicking up your pussy and the inside of your thighs, and this man just groans; he knows he’s already lost the battle.
he dives in, starting off with soft kisses and tiny little kitten licks to your clit, but his head is already hazy, and with the best will in the world, this man already knows he’s fucked. all it takes is for the first moan to slip from your lips and he’s thinking, fuck it. maybe next time he’ll be stronger. maybe next time he’ll be able to stop the way his big hands land on your hips as he licks a wide stripe up your slit. maybe next time he’ll be able to resist slipping into the desperate state of mind he always does when your pussy is in his mouth.
he’s messy with it after that. absolutely nothing is calculated, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t feel good. it absolutely does, from the way he sloppily makes out with your folds to the way he probes your hole with his tongue. he clearly knows how to please you, even if the only thing on his mind right now is his own pleasure. maybe it’s just his passion, or maybe he’s just naturally gifted.
and sometimes, he’ll even manhandle you and push you into your front. no particular reason, but he likes having something to ground him and you being face down, ass up gives his hands perfect access to your ass cheeks. his huge hands are just cupping them, massaging and squeezing and smacking as he literally devours you. sometimes he’ll dig his nails in to the soft flesh, adding just the perfect amount of pain to make you tense up and squeeze out even more of your juices for mingi to slurp up.
not that he has a preference whether you’re on your front or your back; either way, you know that he’s having the time of his life with his face deep in your pussy. you can tell by the sounds he makes. obscene slurping sounds fill the room, punctuated by a mixture of deep groans and out-of-character high pitched moans. your own pretty whines can barely be heard over mingi’s desperate cries, but you don’t care; the fact that mingi is audibly enjoying it just as much as you only adds to your pleasure.
speaking of pleasure, mingi gets his from rutting desperately against the mattress like a bitch in heat. he’s rock hard from the moment he started, but he can’t bear to pull his mouth away for long enough to slip his dick inside of you, so the bed sheets will have to do. he’s always quick to cum, and even quicker to get hard again. the poor boy is always practically crying from overstimulating himself by the time he’s finished with your pussy; it’s not his fault you make him so painfully stiff.
but it’s not just himself he seems intent on overstimulating; he always pushes you to your very limits too. it’s never intentional, and it’s always just him getting lost in the moment and filled up with pathetic desperation for just more but it’s safe to say he won’t be stopping until you’re desperately pushing him away. you’ll be whining and kicking your feet and desperately pushing at his head, and all of a sudden he’ll snap out of his hunger and slip back into reality, sheepishly pulling away as if he hadn’t been behaving like a starving man seconds prior.
“too much?” he always asks as he pulls away. he always prays that you never say ‘yes’, and to this day you haven’t. it’s a good thing; he never wants to push you too far, even though he could quite happily sit between your thighs for days if you let him. he’s happy to just lie by your side with you slowly dropping to sleep in his arms for now, though. you need a rest, and now that he thinks about it, he’s pretty sure his jaw does too. even smiling aches now, but he can’t help himself as he watches you tuck yourself into his chest, soft snores leaving your lips.
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coryosbaby · 5 months
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—1-800-ʙᴀɴɢ ʏᴏᴜʀ ɢᴏᴅꜰᴀᴛʜᴇʀ !
(Dark! Dbf! Anakin Skywalker x fem! Reader)
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𝓈𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: your parents leave you home alone to tend to the christian faith. It’s a good thing that your daddy’s friend is there to help you atone !
୨୧ Content warning . Dubious consent (reader is naive, but consents), blasphemy & strong religious themes, manipulation, baby trapping? age gap (reader is of in her 20s), weird incest names but they aren’t actually related // innocence kink, god complex, loss of virginity, size kink, oral, pnv, missionary + full nelson position
Disclaimer: I am not religious, though I do know there are people that are. pls block if it bothers you! This is solely fiction and not meant to offend anyone, and I don’t condone using religion as a way to manipulate or hurt others. Thanks! ⋆。˚ ⋆
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Your parents leaving you alone is honestly a scary experience.
Although it’s fun (having the house to yourself means having the large flat screen tv in the living room), you’ve come to find that at night you’re quite afraid of the dark. And of course, your family has left on an adult-only Christian retreat and has left you home alone.
Sure, you’re more than old enough. But you haven’t been exactly… exposed to the world around you. So the idea of monsters and demons filling the dark corners of your home, it becomes even more prominent.
You try to concentrate on your bible, try to read through the verses where God tells you to fear no evil, but the paranoia is creeping in on your cold spine like a winter’s chill. You try to listen to music, too, to drown out the whispers you hear in the night.
But to no avail.
You decide that you have no choice but to call the only contact that’s available to you.
Anakin is your godfather, in the sense that he’s your father’s best friend. He’s always been around, and he’s always helped you with your studies. Anakin— uncle Ani, as you sometimes call him, lives less than a few blocks away. He always tells you that if you need him, he’ll be there. So it wouldn’t hurt to ring him up, right?
Pressing the dial on your phone, you type in his number with ease. Biting your thumb nail you wait for him to answer. He picks up on the third ring.
“Y/N? Is everything okay?”
You smile at his voice, the one that always gives you that tingly feeling in your stomach. You suspect that it’s because he’s your favorite person.
“Everything’s fine, Ani. Are you at work?”
“It’s a Saturday, isn’t it?”
“Well… yeah.”
“Then I’m off work, sweetheart,” he replies softly, and then you get that tingly feeling again. “Why did you decide to call?”
It’s not in the sense that he’s annoyed— he’s genuinely curious. You nervously rock back and forth on the balls of your feet.
“Well—“ you start, embarrassed. “Mom and dad are out, ‘n— it’s dark.”
“Dark?”
“It’s—“ you can feel tears beginning to form in your eyes as the wind creaks outside. “I don’t like it, Ani. I don’t wanna be alone in here... Please come.”
Anakin’s cock presses against his zipper at the sound of your whiny, desperate voice. He palms his bulge through his slacks.
“Yeah, baby. ‘Course I’ll come,” he pauses. “Just gotta do something first, okay? Then I’ll be there as soon as possible.”
You sniffle, the tears beginning to fall now.
“Okay. ‘M sorry.”
“For what? Don’t apologize to me sweetheart. Just wait there.”
A good forty minutes later Anakin is there, and when you open the door for him you latch onto him like a leech— your hands wrap around his waist, your bury your face into his fit chest, and you whimper against him as he coos gentle reassurances to you.
“It’s okay, baby. Uncle Ani’s here.”
“Promise?”
“I promise. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”
He brings you over to the couch, sitting you on the cushion beside him as he looks down at your pink bible. He notes that you use the wooden cross necklace he had bought you for your nineteenth birthday as a bookmark.
“Been readin’?” He notes, looking down at the opened pages. You’ve been highlighting some verses, and next to this book there’s another: Christianity for Girls.
“Mhm.”
Anakin picks it up with idle hands. He flips to the first chapter.
“C’mere. Want me to read to you?”
“Yes, sir.” You reply, and with a gentle flick to your hair you begin to climb into his lap. It’s not uncommon for you to do this— he’s so comfy and warm. Even though sometimes the things in his pocket tend to poke against your bottom, you don’t mind. It’s worth it if Ani has his big arms wrapped around you.
He grunts as you settle down on him— his cock twitches as he feels your panties hit his lap. Your skirt is covered just enough to not expose you, but it still rides up as you sit down. His hand grips your thigh, and with the other he settles the book in his palm.
“Chapter 1,” he clears his throat. “Rules.”
Well, okay. If you say so.
“Girls should always follow their faith in God.”
Fair enough.
You nod along, as he reads the next.
“Girls should go to church every Sunday.” He smirks, turning to you. “Do you go to church every Sunday?”
“Of course! I love church.”
Anakin chuckles, flipping to the next page and adjusting himself from underneath you.
“Rule number three,” he says. His voice hesitates as he reads the next line, then he awkwardly clears his throat. “No premarital sex.”
Your brows furrow, bottom lip pulling between your teeth. “What’s that?”
He sucks in a breath, his cock beginning to become hard for a second time today.
“Sex? It’s—“
“No, no,” you giggle, your hand coming up to cover your mouth. “I meant— I know what sex is, Ani. Sort of. But.. what is premarital sex?”
“It’s sex before marriage. Doing it with someone you aren’t going to devote yourself to.”
“Oh.” You twiddle your fingers, eyes averting down to look at the ink splattered pages. “But— if you do it with someone you’re going to devote yourself to, without being married anyway, isn’t that still non premarital? I mean, in a way, you are married…sort of.”
Anakin shrugs, resting his head on your shoulder. You try to ignore how the closeness of his breath makes you tingle.
“Dunno, honey. I guess so. Never thought of it that way.”
You nod, wiggling around on his lap to get more comfortable. Anakin’s fingers grab your hips with a firm hand.
“Have you ever done it?” You ask. “Premarital sex, I mean.”
He lets out a breathy chuckle. Something in him is breaking apart, all these years of pent up sexual frustration for you beginning to come to a head as his resolve crumbles.
“Yes. Many times,” he coincides. “With a lot of people I didn’t care about. I shouldn’t of done that. It’s bad.”
Your face fills to the brim with heat, as the tension in the room grows incredibly thick. Your eyes widen when you feel him hump against your clothed cunt.
“What about you, baby?” He whispers against the shell of your ear. “Have you done it?”
You stutter, hesitating, and that’s when Anakin gets his answer.
“Right. ‘Course you haven’t,” and then, quietly, as if to himself, “Too precious for those little boys…”
You let out a small sound in the back of your throat, that tingly feeling growing evermore prominent. You don’t know why you’re feeling this way. Maybe it’s the heat in the room, maybe it’s your claustrophobia.
Or maybe, you think, it’s the devil.
White hot heat coils in your private parts, and you try to get off of Anakin to get rid of feeling. He tsks, grabbing your hips and shoving you back into his lap. You whine, hands gripping is in an attempt to get away.
“Ani.. c’mon—“
“Do you touch yourself?” He asks darkly. You let out a little gasp. “Do you touch your princess parts, sweetheart?”
You shake your head, almost too quickly, and can’t help but press your thighs together. Anakin is having none of it.
“Liar,” he hisses. “You have. Don’t lie to me, little girl. I know when you’re lying to me.”
“I’m sorry!” You whimper against his harsh grip. “I-I stopped! I did, I really did, and I’ve been meaning to repent and atone for my sins but I haven’t yet…please, uncle Ani.”
Tears of shame begin to fall from your eyes, wet and salty. You let out a little cry. Anakin softens a bit, his grip on you loosening. He wraps his arms around your tummy and quietly shushes you.
“It’s okay. It’s okay, angel, I know you didn’t mean to,” he coos, as your hands move around to rest in the locks of his hair. “Sensitive baby. I know it’s hard not to touch yourself down there. ‘S okay.”
“Promise?” You sniffle, turning your head to look into his eyes. He smiles.
“I promise.”
Your eyes innocently move down to his lips, that feeling growing inside even more.
“Ani..” you whisper. “It’s.. I want to.. to touch myself again. I don’t know how to control it…”
He strokes your hair out of your face with his fingers, cooing again.
“It’s okay,” and then, after a moment, with his cock pressed flush against your cunt, “I can help. Do you want me to?”
“But.. isn’t that premarital sex?”
He presses a kiss against your earlobe.
“You love me, don’t you? And I know I love you. So isn’t that marital sex?”
Your brain has turned into a puddle. Softly, you whisper out, “yes.”
He smiles against your skin, his hands sliding up past the expanse of your thighs.
“There’s something they don’t tell you about sex,” he murmurs. “When you let the man you love inside you, it’s a way to celebrate god. You become one with god.” He quirks a brow, watching you listen closely to him. “And you atone. Don’t you want to atone, baby?”
Your doe eyes look up at him, and you nod. He grins, knowing he’s got you exactly where he wants you. His thumb pulls the flesh of your bottom lip down and he watches it bounce back against your teeth.
“Why don’t you give me a kiss? Hm, pretty?”
And just like that, he’s got you. Your lips, ever so softly, come up to peck his. He smiles.
“Again.”
And you do kiss him again. Only this time, he presses hard into your mouth and it’s not long before his hands are tangling in your hair and he’s rubbing his tongue against your bottom lip. It’s all surreal, this man below you, his cock hard. You don’t know that, of course. Pulling away from him, you have a confused look on your face.
“What’s always in your pocket? ‘S poking me.”
Anakin doesn’t say anything. He just laughs at you, and leans in for more of your kisses. You get too lost in the feeing of his hands massaging your inner thighs to press him for an answer. But you find out soon enough when you feel him push your hand down into the front of his pants. Letting out a small squeak you feel the warm skin of his cock, and something tugs at your lower tummy again.
“Oh.” you say softly, understanding. It was never something in his pocket— it was him.
“Feel what you did to me?” Anakin huffs out, as he guides your hand up and down on his length. “That’s my cock, baby. It’s what happens when I get really excited to see you.”
A small smile grazes your features at the thought of Anakin liking your presence. A whole lot, it seems, because his body is physically reacting. He grunts when you squeeze his length out of curiosity.
“Does it hurt?” You murmur, watching him.
“Not at all,” he coincides, adjusting you on his lap. “Feels good.“
And okay, that’s even better. Now you’re making Anakin feel good. Pride floods your chest. Watching him, you feel his precum drip down your fist.
“Can I see it?”
Your voice surprises him, and he’s nodding so quickly that it seems like he might break his neck.
“‘Course, pretty girl, can watch it all day if you want to…” looking at you hungrily, he mutters in a soft tone, “C’mere, get on your knees.”
Confusion muddles your brain, but not as much as the ache to please him. You crawl off of his lap, and he takes one of the couch pillows and places it on the floor.
“Sit.” He commands, and you rest your knees on the pillow and your small hands on his big thighs.
He unbuttons his fly, then his zipper. His bulge is straining against his briefs, a wet patch on the front from his arousal. Gulping, you watch as he pulls his pants and underwear all the way down and slips them off.
His length springs free, dripping with pre and insanely long. Your eyes widen as you watch it, wondering: where does it go?
Okay. So, you have a vague idea of where it’s supposed to go— somewhere in you, but you don’t know where. But either way, you know for for a fact that wherever that is isn’t adjustable enough for such a big thing. Your face floods with embarrassment.
“Where do I…” you start, quiet. Anakin furrows a brow, grabbing his cock into his palm.
“Where do you what?”
You avoid his gaze.
“Where do I.. put it?”
A smile quirks on the man’s lips, stroking himself to the sight of your pretty face peering at his cock.
“Your mouth, sometimes. But especially where you touch yourself, angel. Your cunt.” He tilts his head, not shaming you but trying to explain. “Do you know what your cunt is?”
You shyly nod, knowing that that’s what some of the boys around town called that spot where you touch yourself. And now, feeling this odd tingle inside you, it all makes perfect sense. It wants Ani inside.
But you frown at him.
“It won’t fit,” you say sadly. “‘S too big”
“It’ll fit, honey. Just have to stretch you first.”
Stretch you? That sounds painful! Fear courses through you.
“Stretch me?” You say worriedly.
Anakin seems amused by your reaction.
“It’ll only hurt a little, then it’ll feel really good,” he explains. “I promise. Don’t you trust me?”
Your head moves up and down, and you know that it’s true. He smiles softly, and then he’s tapping your lip with his finger.
“Open,” he says.
Your parted mouth falls completely open, pink tongue lolling out as he places the tip of his cock on it. It takes you by surprise, and your lashes flutter as his taste evades your senses. It’s an odd flavor— not too bad, but not too good either. Though, the thought of it being from Ani makes it all worth while. He slaps himself against your tongue a few times, the wet muscle making a plopping sound as his stringy precum creates a small puddle in your mouth. He watches, proud, and he praises you in the most gentle tone he can muster.
“Good girl. Such a pretty mouth, can’t wait to cum inside it…”
And that makes your eyes shut tight as you let out a loud whine, knowing that his cum is another delicious fluid that you will happily drink up soon. His cock guides itself even more into your mouth, the cockhead disappearing in between your plush lips. You use your mouth gently, treating his cock with care, not wanting to hurt your uncle Ani. He grunts when you swirl your tongue around him.
“Mmm,” he breathes. “Lick it, baby. Like an ice cream cone… yeahhh. Just like that, sweet girl.”
You hollow your cheeks around his mushroomed head, your brain becoming fuzzy at the feeling of his length moving in and out of your mouth. Suckling him, he’s soft and warm on your tongue.
You do this for quite some time. Anakin’s thrusts speed up, and he makes you take more and more and more. When you choke on him for the first time he tells you that it’s okay— “just get through it, baby, don’t you wanna be good for me?” And of course you do, because it’s Ani, and he’s really handsome and he smells really nice and his hands are so big as they card themselves through your hair. You can’t get enough and you’re almost angry he hadn’t shown you this sooner. Your vision is dizzy as he uses your mouth.
On a particularly harsh thrust that makes your throat spasm around him, Anakin begins to make some very pretty noises. Drool leaks down your chin and chest, your mascara running, his balls slapping against your chin. He groans loudly.
“Gonna cum,” he mutters out. “Gonna fill up your throat. Do you want that, sweet girl?”
You can’t say anything, but you try your hardest to nod around his cock. He gets the message. And with stuttering hips, salty fluid shoots into the wet canal of your mouth. It fills you up until you’re choking, and as Anakin rides out his high his cock practically coats itself in cum as he moves in and out, in and out. He pulls you off of him after a moment, and with a mouth full of spend you gasp out for air. Anakin’s got this possessive stare in his eyes as he looks at you.
“Swallow it.”
You do. You gulp it down excitedly, and with a small “aaaaa” you stick out your tongue so he can see that you’ve consumed it all. Anakin looks down at you with a grin on his face.
“That’s my girl.”
“I want you to… to put it in me.”
Your voice speaks softly in the darkness of your room, rain pattering against your window as Anakin sits on your bed across from you. It’s been a week since your last… encounter. Your parents are out once again— and as requested, Anakin had shown up on your doorstep to keep you company. After a mug of hot chocolate, your favorite, you had invited the man into your room. A cross is around his neck, shiny with a silver chain. His hair is messy, his fingers clad in silver metal rings. You want to bite them.
Anakin smiles, pretty teeth shining.
“Do you know the story of the Virgin Mary?” He asks, out of context. Your eyes light up. Mary is your favorite biblical figure.
“Yes!” You reply to him. “She got pregnant by God.”
“And how did she do that?”
“By magic!” You say. “She gave birth to Jesus.”
Anakin chuckles, kissing your forehead softly.
“Such a smart girl. But sweetheart, magic didn’t give her a baby.” At the sight of your confused face, he continues. “Sex did. That’s how all babies are made.”
Heat creeps up your neck, your face puzzled. “So you’ll give me a baby?”
Anakin should be frightened at the thought of getting his best friend’s daughter pregnant, but he isn’t. In fact, he smiles, his touch leaving tingles against your skin.
“If that’s what you want. Just imagine, angel..” his lips brush against your ear, smoothing back a strand of your hair. “A beautiful baby. My nose, my lips.. those pretty eyes of yours.”
You bite your lip, your heart fluttering. Having Anakin’s baby would be your dream! Having a house with him, children running around, Anakin coming home from work everyday…
Oh, but daddy would be so mad.
He would never look at you the same again. He would be ashamed, he would damn you to the deepest pit of hell.
You think these things so incredibly, but once Anakin’s lips press against yours all of those things go away. He kisses you slow, sweet, gentle. His stomach presses against your tummy.
“I can’t wait to see it. Your little belly, all swollen with my baby..”
And daddy is out of your thoughts and replaced with a new, different daddy: Anakin.
It’s not long before he’s got you laid down on your ruffled pink sheets, your baby blue nightgown gone (“cmon, let me see that pretty body”), with Anakin’s lips trailing down your neck. He’s gotten you prepped, used his fingers and tongue in oh so many ways that had made you quiver, used your throbbing cunt for his own meal. When you spread your legs for him this time, it’s so he can rub his incredibly hard length against the lips of your pussy. Delectable and sweet as he remembers, Anakin watches the way your leftover cum and slick coat his length generously.
He’s never seen a cunt so cute, so fat, so swollen and precious. He taps his cockhead against your clit, listens to the desperate little pleas you let out as you look up at him with doe eyes.
“Please, Ani, want your baby.”
“Please, daddy, put it inside me. My cunt’s so tight and wet for you..”
You don’t say that last part, Anakin’s imagination runs wild, but he knows you’re probably thinking that— thinking that as his mushroomed tip pops inside your entrance, stretching, burning. Thinking that as you cry, your salty tears his most delectable meal besides the thing in between your legs. Thinking that as you grimace, give him that pained look as he fully sheathes himself inside.
And then, he begins to move.
It’s like a fire in your gut, at first. Hot, burning, grating. But soon it gives way to something else— something not even his fingers can create, something that’s absolutely out of this world. Your nails dig into his back, leaving red welts along the skin, and you should apologize but you can’t bring yourself to care. Ani’s whispering something in your ear, something dirty, filthy, and deprived; you enjoy it so much, you really do, as he speaks to you like this.
“Good girl, so tight. Daddy’s so happy when he fucks his little princess.”
“Look at that, how red and swollen your little pussy is. Is my cock too big for it?”
After harsh thrusts, skin slapping against skin, and curled toes, Anakin pulls out of you. You almost sob from the loss, but it isn’t long before he lays you on top of him and slips himself back into your sopping hole, pulling your ankles behind your head. This causes your eyes to flutter open again, a small moan leaving you. Anakin brings his hands around to hold your legs and head in a chokehold. He fucks you like that, all twisted and overstimulated.
Looking down, you watch as his length fills you to the brim and moves in and out of you.
“A-Am —“ you sniffle, a pleasured sob racking through your throat. “Am I being good, Ani? Is… Is god inside me now?”
Anakin groans, his hips pressing even harder against your raw fucked pussy.
“Yeah, baby,” He breathes, his hand pressing against the bulge poking out of your lower tummy. “God’s in you. Right in this little tummy.“
You mewl, understanding his words, the blasphemy in them. A blush coats your cheeks as you murmur out, “don’t say that.. ‘s bad. You’re being bad.”
“But I’m making you feel so good. Aren’t I, baby?” He taunts, with a hint of malice in his voice. “Isn’t this what you wanted? A thick, hard cock to fill up this little pussy?”
You shake your head, trying to deny yourself this pleasure you can’t contain. Anakin chuckles.
“Yes, it is. I can tell when you’re lying, little girl... oh, look at you. Little legs are shaking. Poor baby…”
You should feel guilty for all the dirty things leaving his sinful mouth. You should hate him and find him icky and push him away. Hes a dirty, filthy man.
But… he’s your Ani. The man who protects you, hugs you when you’re sad, buys you your favorite lip gloss and stuffed animals. And that cross is dangling in pressing against your back, cold and heavy like a burden but still turning you on and— he smells so good, and although you keep trying to move away from his harsh fucking, you know in your mind that you don’t want him to stop. Little sounds escape your throat with each thrust, moans and whines that sound like a wounded animal. But you are far from wounded— unless you count the soreness you’re probably going to feel tomorrow from Anakin pounding your guts.
Grunting, his arms flex on each side of you as he grasps your body with firm hands.
The man’s cock moves against your walls harshly, slick penetrating the skin of your thighs and making you shake. A smirk glazes his lips as he watches your face contorted in pleasure, and your neck is craned so you can see every facial expression he makes.
You thought you had never seen God. But right now, you might not be so sure.
“Good little angel,” he groans gently. “Such a tight little fuck hole for daddy.”
You want to be disgusted by the name, wanted to be disgusted since the first time he said it, but before you can think too hard the tip of his mushroomed head slams against a certain spot that has you sobbing out, “daddy, daddy!” against your own accord. He moans himself at the sound of your pleasure.
“Good fucking girl. Hittin’ that princess spot so good, yeah? Pussy feelin’ good?”
Your eyes roll back, your body going limp like a rag doll as you relax against his jackhammering thrusts. It all feels too good. The Bible always talks about heaven and you think that this is truly it: Anakin below you, holding you down, humping into you like an animal, as he spews disgusting phrases into your ears.
Maybe he isn’t the devil. Maybe he’s God.
You can feel something building up in your tummy, the familiar butterflies now turning dark like moth wings, scraping against that one spot over and over and over. God grins from below you, and bringing his hand up he forces your mouth open with his big fingers. His spit lands down on your tongue, wet and warm and perfect.
“Swallow.” He commands, and you do it greedily. Your voice moans for more, aches for more, and he does it thrice.
“Do you trust me?” He growls. “Do you trust you uncle Ani, baby?”
“Yes! Yes sir.” You whimper, and you know it’s true when it falls from your lips. He forces his fingers to press even harsher around your head. Your ears ring, a pressure beginning to form in your skull.
“God’s got you,” Anakin growls. “God’s got you and your life in his hands. And you know what?”
You don’t say anything, just shake your head as you try to catch a breath of air.
“He’s not gonna let it go.” He continues. “You’re gonna feel this, honey. You’re gonna get fucked like this all the time—“ your vision is blurring, his words making you spasm. He brings his fingers down to that swollen button on your soaked pussy and rubs in harsh circles. “— When daddy thinks his precious little girl is asleep, when he thinks she’s praying to god, she’s going to be praying to me. Choking on my dick, getting fuckin’ bred. Do you want that? Do you want my cum, you fucking slut?”
You can’t really hear him anymore; your body has gone completely limp, your eyes fluttering shut as you ride out wave upon wave of pleasure. You’re still breathing, you know you are, but you fall unconscious in Anakin’s harsh grasp.
And when he sees you like that, all fucked out and deadweight, he groans and begins to pound you harder.
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xxsabitoxx · 5 months
Text
Look, Don't Touch
Gojo Satoru x Female Reader
Warnings: Major DUBCON, pervert Satoru, somnophilia, jerking off, whiny, whimpering, need Satoru.
A/N: this is literally a dream I had so naturally here it is in written form... hehe
WORD COUNT: 2,148 | Not proof read (forgive me)
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“Sa-to-ru '' you drawl slowly, giggling as he only whines in response. “I can walk ya know, Sa-to-ru~” but the man refused to put you down, carrying bridal style down the streets of Tokyo with your apartment as his end destination. “Stop talking.” But there was no malice in his tone, he was just getting antsy, and it was all your fault. 
You had been teasing him relentlessly, in the club, at the bar, even now as he carried you home. You weren’t even that bad off but he still didn’t trust you to walk by his side if he set you down. Given the fact that Satoru himself had a couple drinks, he was in no state to chase after you. “Never, you know you love the sound of my voice, Sa-to-ru.”
He did, and the way you drew out his name was sending shrills of need down his spine.
“You’re so mean to me… so fucking cruel.” He whined, not caring how desperate he sounded as he rounded the next corner. “You love how mean I am to you, makes you hard, huh?” You whispered the last part in his ear, giggling softly as you felt him tremble. “So cruel.” was all Satoru could mutter in response, nearly crumbling when your building was in sight. 
“Tell ya what, Sa-to-ru.” You started, head swaying a bit before you decided to rest it on his shoulder. He didn’t answer, trying to ignore your hand gently trialing across the broad plains of his chest. You could feel his heart racing, it excited you to no end. “C’mon, answer me.” You pouted, fingers still trailing along his chest before finding your way to his neck. 
“Go ahead…” his voice strained as he spoke “...Tell me what you want to say.” He knew he’d regret it, the moment you shimmied in his grasp so your lips could ghost his ear. “If you can remember the code to my apartment, I’ll let you spend the night.” You laughed softly as he sighed. “I don’t need a place to sleep, sweetheart.” He tried to sound uninterested but dammit…
“Not to sleep, silly boy.” You teased him further, dragging your nail under his chin and watching him try and fight off the shiver that it sent through his whole body. You watched his throat bob, the grip he had on your body tightening a bit. “I wanna play with you.” You whined softly, legs kicking a bit where they dangled in his grasp. 
“Play with me?” he huffed out, legs carrying him quickly as you spoke. “Yeah, wanna play with your co–” but he cut you off with a choked “Woah!” which only made you laugh harder. “Sorry, Sa-to-ru. The drinks make me feel more than I should.” But the white haired man only shook his head, if he spoke he was certain his restraint would go out the window. 
He wasn’t mad nor was he uncomfortable. Quite the fucking opposite, he was seconds away from taking you up on your drunken offers. He was shouldering the glass double doors open, ignoring any glances the two of you may get by any passersby. He knew your apartment code just like he knew your phone number, he spent enough time over at your place to know. 
“So what you’re telling me…” he clicked the button for your floor as he stepped into the elevator, strong enough to hold you with one hand as he did so. “... you’ll let me fuck you if I remember your apartment code?” He finally smirked down at you, trying not to chuckle at your lidded eyes and smeared lipstick. “Mmhmm, thats exactly what you can do… fuck me really good.” 
His moment of confidence fizzled away at your tone, so seductive, so needy. 
Fuck he wanted you bad… 
By the time the elevator door opened, Satoru was uncomfortably hard. It was the only thing he could truly focus on, the way his cock was stiff in his boxers, straining against the material and slowly leaking. Every step sent shivers up his spine, the material brushing his sensitive cock just right as he stopped in front of your door. “You better know it, Sa-to-ru.”  
Your words had begun to slur from a mix of alcohol and exhaustion, you could feel your own arousal dampening your underwear but you had a funny feeling you wouldn’t even be awake by the time he got you in bed. It took three seconds for him to type your code, door clicking to signal it had been unlocked. “Ha…” soft and triumphant as he pushed his way inside. 
You had been right of course, Satoru hadn’t bothered looking down at you again until he was moving to place you on your plush mattress. “No way…” he choked as he set you down, your eyes shut and chest evening out as you began to snore softly. “Such a fucking tease…” he whined, he should have expected you to pass out. He could feel his own exhaustion the entire walk here…
But you had worked him up so well that his tiredness was long forgotten. Now all Satoru could think about was the aching hard-on he had in his pants. “You’re lucky I’m a gentleman.” He mumbled to you despite you not being able to hear, carefully taking off the shoulders of your dress and pulling it down your body. He would only undress you and tuck you in, that's it. 
At least that was what the rational portion of his mind was saying, the other part was starting to lose its cool at the sight of your bare skin. “You’re so fucking perfect.” Satoru muttered again, trying to restrain himself as he pulled off your pantyhose to toss into the hamper as well. Your panties had dragged down a bit with it, revealing soft skin that made him salivate. 
“This is a form of torture.” he whined, moving to place you up against your pillows. He admired the way you looked, peacefully asleep in nothing but a lacy bra and panties… teasing him thoroughly even in your sleep. The thing is, Satoru couldn’t seem to pull himself away, not even to pull the blankets up and give you some modesty. His feet were glued to his spot on the floor. 
“You… you wouldn’t mind, right? Surely you would understand…” he babbled softly, hands moving to hook in the waistband of your underwear. “Just… just to look. I won’t touch…” His breathing stuttered as your cunt was revealed to him, so soft looking and utterly perfect. Satoru’s cock twitched, reminding him of what he really needed. 
Large, warm hands were spreading your thighs, revealing the sticky, shiny arousal coating your pretty cunt, leaving Satoru’s throat dry. “Fuck…” he was shaking as he undid his pants, pulling them off completely and letting them drop to the floor before stepping out of them. His boxers followed, slightly soiled from his precum dampening the front. 
Satoru was careful, climbing onto your bed and sitting on his knees. You laid before him, fast asleep with your legs spread and cunt out in the open. That was more than enough for him, fuck was it more than enough for him. Satoru’s fist wrapped around his shaft ,giving it a hard squeeze, whining lowly as his pretty eyes locked on your cunt. 
Carefully, he tugged at himself, collecting spit in his mouth to drool down over his length. “You’d be such a fucking tease right now, huh?” he spoke to you, hand moving faster now that his saliva was acting as lubricant. “Bet you’d be telling me how bad you want my dick, huh?” he groaned out, his free hand reaching down to fondle his balls as he watched arousal leak from your cunt. 
“Fuck you’re so cute… even your fucking cunt is cute…” his lips twitched, cheeks flushing pink as he spoke those words to you. Dirty talk was never his forte… unless he was alone… or in this case, the other party was sleeping. He could never say the things he imagined when the other person was present. He could only fantasize about the things he would like to do. 
“I wanna eat your pussy so bad… you’re so mean for falling asleep on me…” 
Satoru whimpered as he thumbed his slit, collecting the precum and massaging it around his sensitive tip. “Fuck it looks so good… wanna bury my face down there and eat you out…” he gasped, squeezing his balls so tight he nearly doubled over from the wave of pleasure that passed through him. “My fist is nothing compared to your pussy…” he drawled out now… cheeks flushed red as his pleasure only grew with his words. 
“Bet you’d feel so good, your nails digging in my hair and keeping me there…” he could feel his mouth water, the thought of going down on you was going to have him blowing his load before he was ready too. “You probably taste so good, fuck I want to eat you out so bad…” he whined, brows creasing as he repeated his desires, his fist gliding up and down his shaft in fluid motions. 
Your thighs twitched in your sleep, threatening to close but Satoru’s hand shot out and stopped you. “A-almost done… please let me keep looking at your pretty pussy… almost done I swear…” but you had long since relaxed again, and his fingers had found their way back to his cock head. Satoru massaged himself, his tip flushed a pretty pink and leaking desperately as he pleased himself to the sight of your cunt. “So good… but your hands would be so much better than mine.” 
He was going to cum, he knew he was, he could feel his cock twitching in his grasp as he whimpered about how badly he needed you. “So cruel to tease me and then leave me hanging, especially when your cunt is so pretty and wet for me…” He kept moving, his pleasure building deep in his gut and making his balls tighten. He was going to cum at any second. “You wanted to play with me and now I’m just playing by myself…” Satoru huffed, chest rising and falling faster. 
“You wanted me to play with your pretty cunt and now you’re sleeping… your punishment is not getting off like I’m about to… but still.” He whimpered as he thumbed his slit again, head falling back momentarily to let out a guttural moan, he certainly knew how to get himself off… but it wasn’t you. Fuck it wasn’t you, your hands, your cunt… “So mean…” he gasped out again. 
Satoru could feel sweat dripping down his brow as his fist pumped along his length over and over, he’d cum soon, so soon, but he didn’t quite want this to end yet. Your cunt looked so inviting, but he wouldn’t dare touch you while you were sleeping. He needed to see your sweet face contort in pleasure when he impaled you on his dick.
“Fuck I want your pussy so bad…"
He could really feel it now, especially with the way his cock was twitching. One glance downward and he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. Blue eyes focused back on your cunt, the idea creeping up his spine and reminding him just how perverted this whole thing was. “You’ll let me cum on your pussy, right? I mean it’s the least you could do…” He wanted to cover your cunt in his release, he wanted to see sticky globs of cum coating your pretty pussy.
“Y-yeah… no better place…” He mumbled, tugging his fist faster as his cock felt heavy in his own grasp, twitching and aching to spill his release. So he scooted closer, pulling your body closer to him as he did so. His cock was hovering just above your cunt now, the heat teasing him as he pumped himself closer and closer to his end. “Gonna cum…fuck I’m gonna cum all over this pretty pussy… so fucking mean.. You’re so mean… so fucking mean…”
He whimpered out, over and over as his eyes squeezed shut. Thick ropes of cum spurted from his head, covering your cunt in sticky white. Satoru didn’t stop, hand moving up and down his length over and over even as the pleasure turned into overstimulation. Whimpers and moans fell from his pretty lips as he watched his cum leak down your cunt and pool just under your ass.
“Ruined your sheets…” Satoru spoke to himself, still incredibly turned on by the sight of your cunt covered in his release. “A-again.. You wouldn’t mind if I did it again…” His cock hadn’t softened after all, still stiff and aching in his palm despite dumping a load on you. “You just drive me crazy… you and that cunt…” He whined, fist already moving again while you slept
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reverieblondie · 6 months
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Scary Movie Night
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Pairing: Miguel O’Hara X Fem!reader
Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Smut with Plot, Praise, Unprotected Penetrative Sex (wrap it before you tap it), Full nelson, Oral, Cum eating, Reverse cowgirl.
Summary: Halloween Night and horror movies what could go wrong?
A/N: I can not do kinktober because I write to slow, so this is my Halloween fic instead. Also if you have sent me a request I am working on it so please be patient! If you enjoyed this Halloween themed Fic, please checkout my Halloween Fic with Peter B Parker here.
Word Count: 6,582
“Oh no please don’t kill me Mr. Ghostface I want to be in the sequel!” 
Halloween night, alone with no plans but to watch the horror movie marathon on TV, pass out candy to trick-or-treaters, and gorge yourself on candy and popcorn.  
The movie marathon was going strong. You had started with Nightmare on Elm Street, and now you have moved on to Scream. The marathon was the perfect way to get into the Halloween spirit. Halloween was the perfect night to get your spook on, everyone is entitled to one good scare on the spookiest night of the year. However, you didn't foresee yourself getting scared from the movies with having to constantly get up to pass out candy to eager trick-or-treaters. 
The doorbell rang out causing you to heave yourself from the couch dusting popcorn derby from your chest you flip on your interior lights and answer the door. 
“Trick or Treat!” 
The little Bundle of kids cheered. Ranging in ages you surveyed the group with a smile. A sweet little princess, an impressive robot, and an oddly adorable zombie, with them a tepid teenager with his scary werewolf mask on top of his head. You assume the babysitter for the night.  Quickly complementing their costumes you gave them each a handful of the sugary treats they were so desperate for. Chirping a thank you they all run off to the next house over. 
Smiling as they run off you scan the crisp autumn night watching the masses of excited children cheering and laughing as they run from house to house. As you are greeting some more treaters running to your door, something catches your eye. 
A dark figure seems to be slowly walking in the shadows of the sidewalks carefully avoiding running children and lights as it walks carefully by, surveying the rows of houses. Watching intently you quickly pass out the candy while trying to get a good look at the figure. Then one of the kids chirps a thank you causing you to smile down at them, once the kids run off your porch you look for the figure in the night and it seems to have disappeared. Okay, that was creepy. Maybe it was just a harmless kid, don't work yourself up. 
And you didn’t the whole weird sighting had completely left your mind. You had finished Scream and moved on to Halloween, is it even truly Halloween if you haven't watched this movie at least once? Enthralled in the movie your lights are turned dim to get you into the atmosphere of the film. Then something makes you jump, and it wasn’t the shape on the screen.  
Whipping your head towards the sound, it's like a soft tapping and it's coming from your window. This caused only one thought to rush through your brain- did I lock the window…
Slowly approaching the window you hear the tapping continue and you swear as you inch closer it becomes more rampant. Then as you reach for the curtain it seems to stop. It's probably just nothing, but the thought of that shadowy figure made all your confidence waver. If this is something you are screwed…maybe if you had some company you would be calmer. 
Not wanting to be a horror movie cliche you start looking through your phone's contacts. You need someone dependable, scary, and someone you wouldn't mind hanging out with, like…
You stop scrolling and stare at the contact name: Miguel O’Hara…
Dependable- yes, he can be kinda a hardass but at work, he is always ready to give a helping hand to you every time you ask, even though he would not shy away from giving you shit when given the chance. Though you have grown to enjoy the teasing.  
Scary- Uh, the dude is 6 '9' and built like a brick wall. It was one of the first things you noticed about him, The dude was huge! He could probably crush you if he needed to, though would that be so bad? It has become an office joke that when he's not at work he's living at the gym working out like crazy. How else could he be so big? 
Now Miguel is your friend, you two had gotten close through your jobs at Alchemax, So it's only natural for a friend to let another friend come over right? Even if this said friend is quite attractive, with a gorgeous face, broad back, slender waist, and the best ass you have ever seen. Yeah, hanging out alone in your house shouldn't be a problem…Right?
Taking a deep breath you press the call button. 
-Bring…-
-Brriinnngg…-
“Hello?” 
“Um, Hey Miguel, are you busy?” 
You hear Miguel shuffling around before he answers “What's wrong?” 
Wow, he's pretty perceptive, you didn't realize how shaken up you sounded for him to ask you that so quickly. “Uh, I was wondering if you could…come over?”
There is a long moment of silence then what sounds like an exasperated sigh on Miguel's end. He busy…Maybe you should tell him never mind, you're the one who decided to watch horror movies alone and-
“Okay, I will be there shortly.” 
Well that took zero convincing, “O-okay, see you then”
-click-
——-
Making sure to pick up your living room a bit you anxiously await for Miguel to arrive. The random tapping has stopped but you're still walking apprehensively through your home. Turning back on your lights you continue to watch the movie trying to distract yourself but you feel your hands getting clammy and anxiety rising. Were these movies just getting to you? Or Is there stuff happening? Worse than that, Is Miguel going to think you're crazy? 
Checking your phone every couple of minutes waiting for a call or text from Miguel. He said he would be here shortly but it feels like forever, where is he? Having nervously eaten all your popcorn you go to make another bowl. Throwing the bag in the microwave you start the time and think about how you just saw this same situation in Scream. Waiting patiently you're starting to think you're overreacting a bit. That tapping could be anything, maybe when Miguel gets here you two can laugh at this. He has the most amazing laugh…
Then a sudden thumping breaks your daydream. Frozen, you don't move a muscle, you don't even dare to breathe as you slowly move your gaze to the window where the tapping had been. But, the thumping noise is fainter, and it's almost like something hitting something on your windows. For a second you think, is someone egging me? You thought you could avoid that because you got the good candy. Is someone messing with you? Maybe this is all in your head? 
The thumping then turns into a window-rattling, like it's being pried open, your blood runs cold…
Eyes flicking around the room, your gaze gets glued towards the bathroom, and you clutch your cell phone tightly, is this happening…do I look? Absolutely not! Frantically you look at your phone. Where the hell is Miguel? 
Then the sound of your doorbell chime sounds like a saving grace. Quickly you rush to open the door, but it doesn't budge. Danm-
Fumbling with the lock you quickly swing the door open and there he is. Miguel O’Hara, in all his beautifully intimidating glory. God, you could just kiss him. You didn't even care that he was looking at you like you were insane. Without a second thought, you're pulling him by his shirt inside, slamming your door shut. Turning to him with wild eyes the hysteric words flying from your mouth.  
“Canyougocheckthebathroom, Iheardanoise and I’M Freaking out!” 
Miguel just looks at you baffled before he swivels his head around responding with a casual sigh. “Where's the bathroom?” 
Timidly you point down your dark hallway and Miguel instantly starts walking that way. Following close behind it takes everything in you not to cling to his jacket. Now you are usually a lot braver, but the oddness of the whole situation has you in a tissy.  
Miguel stops at the closed bathroom door, turning his head over his shoulder he points his index finger to the door in a silent question. Nodding with a yes he opens the door with a confident swing walking through. You're more apprehensive as you peer through the doorway holding your hands tightly to your chest. Looking through your bathroom it's completely normal, apart from the mountain of a man looking around at it. 
Turning to face you his chiseled face in a quizzical glare of ‘okay?’ 
Pointing to the window you meekly say “I thought I heard the window being opened..” 
Nodding Miguel parts the curtains to reveal a shut window, going the extra mile he even tries to open it but it's locked. Closing the curtains back he turns to you placing his hands on his hips.
“Anything else?”
Looking at the shower you nudge your head at it. Seeming to roll his eyes slightly he opens the curtain to reveal an empty shower, murderer free. Sighing, your tension starts to ease up, everything seems fine, other than you acting like a damn spaz.
“You okay scaredy-cat?” he says with a smirk. 
Rolling your eyes you're not amused by the nickname, “Yes I am fine, now can you give me a minute?”
Miguel shrugs with a smile and walks out of the bathroom, he turns like he's about to say something but you quickly slam the door closed, locking it.  Pressing your back to the door you run your hands through your hair and down your face feeling ridiculous. Nothing is here to get you…plus Miguel is here you need to get a grip.
After regaining your composure, doing your business, washing your hands, and maybe putting on some mascara and fixing your hair a bit, you finally exit the bathroom. Walking into your living room you are met with the sight of Miguel walking out of the kitchen, jacket removed, revealing a black tee shirt that does everything for his muscular physique; the cherry on top, he has taken your popcorn from the microwave and poured it into a bowl. -well just make yourself at home the O’Hara
Feeling a bit awkward you decide it's the polite thing to thank him, “Thank you for coming over and checking my bathroom…” 
Miguel nods plopping down on your couch and placing the popcorn on your coffee table, “you know, Maybe you shouldn’t be watching horror movies by yourself if you're just going to get scared by them” 
Touché-
“Well…That's why I have you, you get to be my bodyguard”  You say with a chuckle as you turn off your lights and slide down onto the couch next to him. 
“I don’t know, I was working before you called…” 
“Working?” This shouldn't be a surprise, of course, he was….”Well that's not a very fun Halloween” 
“And getting scared by cheesy horror movies is?” 
“Hey, At least it's festive, plus it’s not the movies that spooked me, some weird person was lurking around and this odd tapping, then the window…” 
As you speak you look up and see that Miguel is listening intently, hanging on to each word that leaves your lips, you can't help but feel your cheeks blush from his fervid stare. 
“I don’t know…maybe it was the movies…”
“I’ll stay”
“Huh?” You look at him confused 
Miguel casually grabs a handful of popcorn “I said I’ll stay, I don't have to finish that work right now and you seem genuinely scared, though I think you have just been watching too many movies niña” he playfully nudges you with his elbow and you nudge him back making him laugh causing you to blush again. 
“Plus…” he adds while dragging his eyes over your face, then down your body, studying your form for a moment “It will be..festive..” he looks back into your eyes and quickly averts his gaze to the movie, eating his popcorn casually. 
-------
This is not how you saw your evening headed, alone in a dark room with Miguel. Sure you have had the odd fantasy of this moment before but there was no TV playing, and there were also no clothes…the popcorn was still present though…
Trying to be engrossed in the film you can’t help but take your eyes away to look over at Miguel. Fidgeting around on the couch, Danm, you need to relax. Miguel is being a good friend and just trying to watch a movie he doesn't need to be ogled by you!  
As you continue to be at war with yourself your fidgeting and sighing must have gotten Miguel's attention. Because he’s then carefully wrapping an arm around your shoulder and bringing you in close. Feeling your face turn through three variations of blush you allow yourself to be pushed closer till your head is on his shoulder. Before you can even fumble with a response Miguel is speaking up. “You seem like you're scared…”
Not scared, just burning in desire for you, but I will take what I can get. “Thanks, Miguel.”
Completely ignoring the movie now, you don't even know what's on, you are just enjoying the closeness of Miguel's warm body. He might be the world's most cuddly man despite appearances. The best part was when a  jumpscare would suddenly happen, he would hold you tighter like he was trying to protect you. His calm rhythmic breathing and how his fingers subtly rubbed loose strains of your hair it was so calming. Calling him over was the perfect move, everything was going great. 
But there was something that just didn't make sense to you, “How come you're not at some kind of Halloween party or something?” you inquire looking up at his sculpted jaw. 
Miguel shrugs, moving his eyes away from the screen to look at you  “How come you're not at a Halloween party?” How come he can’t ever just give a straight answer-
Rolling your eyes you scoff “I’m not a fan of parties they tend to be overwhelming and usually kinda a letdown. Like I’m not going to go there and meet some sexy masked man to sweep me off my feet by fulfilling my every desire…” 
Miguel looks at you confused and you just giggle “Heh, I read a story about it once…Anyways I like staying home to pass out the candy, it’s fun getting to make the kid's night.” 
“You like kids?” he quickly asks. 
“Sure, I mean I want some of my own one day.” As you answer you look over at Miguel and you think you see a slight smile on his lips as you speak. 
“Seriously though, how come you weren't doing anything on Halloween?” you ask, trying to get the truth. “Didn't you get invited to go out?”
Miguel sighs, “Well yeah but, I’m like you, I don't like parties, horror movies are not my favorite, and kids don't trick or treat in my building, Plus…I was kinda waiting”
“Waiting? For what?” you say furrowing your brow at him.
“Well, I was waiting to see if you were going to invite me out” His sudden confession has your heart warming, and before you can get too mushy you slip out a laugh elbowing Miguel in the abs. “If you wanted to hang out you could have just called, you know?”
“I know, I guess I’m lucky you freaked yourself out so much you needed my company, scaredy-cat.” he teases leaning further into you and making your body warm.
“Hey! I was hearing and seeing things, Mister.” you poke his chest, almost hurting your finger in the process.
“Sure you were…” You and Miguel are both leaning pretty close by now, still laughing with each other. Then you two seem to notice the sudden proximity that has you both turning your heads quickly. 
Miguel and you continue your playful banter as you watch the movie. He complains how everything is predictable, proving his theories by telling you who will die and in what order, you call him a buzz kill and playfully pinch his sides as he continues to ruin the movie. Miguel meets your pinching by doing it to you, this quickly escalates to a pinching war on the couch.
Lost in the playful fight you and Miguel feel the tension building around you until the ring of the doorbell cuts through the laughing. Sounds of excited laughter following the ring, you look to the door and smile at Miguel “Well, duty calls,” Miguel moves so you can slip past him, and you head towards the door. To your surprise, however, you notice that Miguel is following you. Looking at him confused he averts his eyes and places his hand on the back of his neck, “Thought I could help….” -what a cutie
Smiling wide you place the bowl of candy in his large hands. Swinging the door open you see a group of giggly kids eagerly holding out their baskets. They all go to sing out their Halloween phrase but suddenly stop with wide eyes and gasped expressions. 
Looking at them confused you wonder what has them looking so shocked till you turn your head and look at Miguel. With the lights dimmed down in your house and the porch light only hitting parts of his face he looks terrifying, also are his eyes glowing red? What?
The youngest kid dressed like a fairy starts to cry, turning to hug her mom's leg. The others are too scared to even move. Miguel, in his infinite wisdom in social cues, leans over slightly and lets out a simple question “What will it be? Trick or Treat?” 
Noticing the kids getting upset and equally the parents, you are quick to soothe things over. Flipping the door light on you makes it easier to see Miguel, making his faceless obscured, this seems to make the kids relax a bit and the moms and dad blush to see his strong physique and chiseled features. 
“Wow! Miguel, don't all these kids look great? Don’t you love the costumes?” You nudge Miguel with a smile trying to get him to smile back. 
Miguel, confused at first, doesn't understand, then lighting up he seemingly catches on “Oh yeah definitely all good, I like the Spider-Man” Miguel points to a kid who is dressed in the Blue and red vigilante outfit (A popular costume since the masked hero started saving Nueva York) the kid gives a thumbs up that makes Miguel smile that has everyone’s heart squeezing.
Finally with the kids more relaxed and the parents thoroughly flushed you crouch down, pulling Miguel with you to drop candy in the kid's bags. You take the time to ask each kid what they are and compliment the outfit. Miguel keeps his smile placed as he watches you with the kids. He seems to enjoy this. Finally, with all the kids giving their sweet rewards you and Miguel wave bye.
Nudging him in the side you get his attention “Try not to scare the kids huh?” 
Miguel rolls his eyes “I didn't do it on purpose.”
Miguel walks back inside towards the movie and you go to reach for the light, but some sudden movement catches your attention. It looks like someone or something running down the side of the neighbor's house. Stepping out into the night air you look and see if you can see it. Inching closer and closer you're trying to catch a glimpse but then the sound of a playful scream down the road makes you jump. Looking back you see a father lifting his daughter and tossing her into the air making her scream and giggle. Taking a breath to calm yourself, you head back inside. Not seeing that the bushes have been rustling…
———-
Settling back onto the couch you are happily eating away at your candy. Trick-or-treaters are heading home for the night leaving the rest of the treats for you to enjoy. Miguel's eyes are focused on you as the candy slips past your lips. 
“I can’t believe you actually can sit here and eat all that sugar” 
You side-eye Miguel “Oh let me guess you don’t eat candy?” Probably not have you felt his abs in that shirt, completely solid-
“I just, haven’t had any that I like” 
“Well, do you not like sweet things?” 
Miguel looks at you for a moment like he wants to say something but quickly changes his mind “It depends…” 
“Well here try this, it’s one of my favorites” 
Quickly unwrapping the candy you hold it up for Miguel to take, but instead of grabbing it from you he leans down and takes it with his mouth. 
Staring at him your thoughts seem to evaporate.- 
Wait, did I just…did he really…did I feed him chocolate?
Staring at Miguel you meet his gaze with wide eyes, is he…no! He probably just took it because he just really wanted the chocolate…
While you're consumed by your thoughts your eyes stay locked with Miguel, he looks nervous. Like he's also surprised that you fed him chocolate, but he was the one who leaned in and ate from your hand! He fed himself! 
Moving his eyes away for a moment he turns away and quickly swallows the candy, as he turns he seems like he wants to say something but instead his intense stare stays on your eyes. Feeling his arm on your shoulders move slowly to your hips curling tighter around you, a crashing wave of excitement washes over you. He slightly leans forward keeping his eyes on yours, it feels like you can’t breathe. 
Heart is beating a mile a minute, all your nerves are on high alert, brain feels like it's frying. His scent, his touch, his intense stare! Wait, are his eyes red again, must be the lighting. 
All of it is overwhelming. With ease, his large hand gently grabs your neck, bringing you closer to touch his plush lips to yours. Eyes shutting instantly you lean into the kiss, pressing yourself closer to his warmth. Seemingly groaning in surprise he leans more, parting his lips slightly to guide you through, mouth moving in tandem with him. Feeling the kiss deepen to a more intense passion you feel Your arousal ruining your panties and body heat reaching a fever pitch. 
Breaking from the kiss to get air you stare at Miguel's face as he catches his breath, he looks downright majestic huffing for air it drives you wild, tightening your thighs together. Taking everything not to pounce him you back up brain scrambling from the hot man panting at you.  
“I-is it Hot maybe I should o-open up my….Window! Yeah, open up my window!” Quickly you scramble to your window pushing past the curtains and lifting the window. The sudden cool breeze does nothing to cool your heated body. Standing there you take deep breaths to calm yourself, then large hands grabbing your hips make your attempts to calm down fail. Feeling Miguel nuzzle into your hair, then his breath fan against your neck has you almost moaning, you just can't help melting at his touch. 
“I’m sorry if that was too sudden, I just…I’ve been wanting to do that..” His arms wrap around you in a hug making you fall into pure bliss
“For how long?” you say breathlessly leaning into his hold. 
Humming Miguel thinks for a moment “About….five months now”
Your eyes shoot open and you turn around and swat his shoulder “You have liked me for five months and you haven't done anything about it!” 
Miguel takes your playful hits for a few more moments before catching your wrist and pulling you in close, “you know if you wanted to kiss me you could have?”
“What? No way, I have been leaving hints this whole time you needed to meet me halfway!” 
Miguel leans in closer, silencing your nagging with a kiss that you quickly fall into, playing with his hair as his hands roam over your body. Breaking away Miguel smiles down at you, “Is this meeting you halfway?” 
Giving a slight pout you look at him with doe eyes “All I'm saying is that we could have been doing stuff sooner if you would have done something.” 
Miguel quickly lifts you kissing you passionately carrying you blindly to the bedroom, when you feel your back hit your bedroom door you break the kiss looking down at his smirking face. “Well let's make up for lost time, shall we?” 
Fumbling with your doorknob trying to open your door, but he swiftly moves your hand, opening the door in a fluid motion. Unable to contain your desires, you feverishly pull on his shirt while his hands fumble with your leggings. Once his shirt is off you take a second to admire his body he just chuckles at you before he's undoing his pants, while taking your top off you watch as his cock springs out from its confines slapping against his abdomen. 
Now fully exposed to one another he can't help but lick his bottom lip taking in all your soft curves. You're equally hypnotized by his monstrous phasic and the massive length that causes your legs to shake. Seeing your nervousness he's quick to relax you. 
“Don’t worry baby, I’ll make you feel good.” Running his hands all over he gets behind you and walks you to your bed. Pushing you against the bed you're falling on the plush mattress on your hands and knees. 
Miguel's large digits can be felt spreading open your wet folds, you can only whimper as he runs his other finger up and down teasing you. 
“Danm, you're so wet…” 
Before you can give a rebuttal you feel him lick a long strip up your cunt. All you can do is let out a squeak as he ravenously eats your pussy, licking at your slick walls. All you can do is drop to your elbows moaning his name, as he hums and prods his tongue in your quivering slit. 
Finally needing to break for air he moves away, his warm breath fanning over your wet cunt making you squeeze your legs together. Turning your head over your shoulder to look at Miguel and you almost cum right there. He's panting like a damn animal as a mixture of your arousal and his spit coat his chin in a shining sheen. The most alarming thing is that his eyes are blown out in hungry lust “Miguel…” you whimper his name breathlessly. 
“Sorry hermosa, you're just so sweet..” with that he's spreading you open and back to eating your pussy like a starved man making you approach your high. Feeling your body reaching its peak you grind your hips into his face making him latch onto your swollen clit, sucking and twirling his tongue on it. 
“Oh my god! Miguel! Ah!” 
Knowing exactly what he's doing he leans in, humming onto your clit more, sliding two fingers into your slick cunt. moving his fingers in slowly he's spreading you open to accommodate every enticing inch. Once he's knuckle deep he starts pumping his large fingers in and out. Practically drooling now from his pumping plus the hungry licking and sucking of your clit you feel in bliss. It's not until Miguel is letting out a low groan into your cunt that you start seeing stars. 
Trying to squirm away you try to prevent what's about to happen but Miguel grabs a hold of your hips not allowing you to move, continuing his low groans and deep pumping. The white-hot rush washes over you and all you can do is scream his name as you cum, Miguel not wanting to waste a drop of your sweet essence quickly licks and sucks every drop from you, helping you ride your high on his face. 
Coming down from your high you feel Miguel's large hands squeezing your waist, “So good for me baby, so fucking sweet..” 
Before you can even fully get back to your senses Miguel is Pulling you up to press your back to his chest, “now keep being my good girl and ride me..” he growls into your ear. 
Laying down on the bed he steadies your hips as you grab his massive length angling it to tease your slit. His hot tip feels so good teasingly poking at your slit. Looking over your shoulder your eyes fall to Miguel, he looks like he can't take any more of your teasing. Grabbing your hair he roughly pulls making your back arch suddenly “Fucking ride it,” 
Slowly lowering yourself on his cock you feel the stretch making your toes curl, Miguel's large hands rub soft circles on your hips as you stretch yourself full. You're unable to help your mewing of his name as you fully press down to take him all. Not even moving yet your eyes are rolling at the way his tip is already nudging your cervix. Miguel continues to rub his hands up and down your back cooing sweet nothings about how you're such a good girl, his good girl. 
Feeling him throb in you, you're ready for more so you slowly start raising your hips and bringing yourself down, with each motion your cunt clenches down on him savoring the stretch. Once you're accommodated to his size you pick up your pace moving faster and pushing him in deeper, his hot tip has you losing your mind. Grabbing onto your breast pinching and twisting your buds, you're losing it moaning and crying out his name. 
Egged on by your enthusiasm Miguel grips your hips and thrusts deeper, “That's my girl, take it, baby, ah fuck, my cock is yours” 
“Its mine..ah fucking mine” you cry out bouncing faster 
You start to feel the coil in your stomach tightening, feeling your body heating up to a fever pitch. Miguel is right with you approaching as high as he thrust harder cock throbbing and heating to a mouth-watering burn. Grunts falling on deaf ears you're too lost in the chase or your second orgasm, your only focus is to milk him dry, to feel his thick seed fill you. 
The chase gets halted when suddenly Miguel is leaning forward kissing the back of your neck, hooking his arms under your knees. Locking his hands behind your head, the contorting has him fucking your pussy impossibly deeper, his breath is ragged as he moans, “I'm going to ruin this fucking pussy!”
“Fuck! Ruin me miggy!” You didn’t need to ask him twice he's fucking you hard, his in your stomach at this point. The arousal from your cunt is dripping down to your ass as he just takes full control over you. Chest feels on fire as you gasp from his pace which shows no sign of relenting till his cumming deep inside you.   
Practically there you feel your coil about to give, and then Miguel slows his strong thrust to a stop, his breath getting quiet. Turning back to whine at the sudden loss of friction you hear it too…the sound of your living room window sliding up. Still caged in his grip from the Full Nelson you can only look up in horror, your house is being broken into! You weren’t paranoid! 
Miguel slowly releases you from his hold and gently slides out of you moving you to the side of the bed. You can’t help the slight moan you give from not being full of him anymore. Miguel stands up and looks at you placing a finger to his lip reminding you to be silent, his intense eyes looking like they shine red. Quickly following his silence demands you cover your mouth with your hands. 
Slow footsteps can be heard walking through the house and your eyes widen. Who was in here? What is happening? 
Miguel slowly and steadily puts his pants on (disregarding his underwear) and you wrap yourself in a robe. Miguel goes to open the door of the bedroom but you quickly grab his hand to hold him back. Looking up at him with pleading eyes you try and urge him not to go out there, it’s dangerous he could get hurt. 
Without words, Miguel places his hand on your cheek and gives a soft kiss to your lips, a reassurance that everything will be okay. You hate how much it calms you at the moment but can’t help how you surrender to it. 
Miguel goes to open the door but it’s too late, the door flies open and you see a masked intruder dressed in all black. Screaming in terror you hide behind Miguel’s tall stature. To your surprise the intruder also screams when you are, jumping backwards they pin themselves to the wall. Wait? What kind of intruder jumps in surprise? As you shake in fear and confusion Miguel just stares daggers at the person. 
Before you know it the intruder is cussing and running towards the door but Miguel is not having it, he pursues the intruder in a quick sprint. It was honestly a pathetic sight, the intruder scrambling to unlock your front door while the monster of a man Miguel goes to grab him. 
After successfully slipping through the door the masked person starts running down your driveway. However, they were not quick enough, with an incredible force Miguel grabbed the masked person’s shoulder and slammed them to the ground in one swift motion. With the way he swiftly maneuvered it was like Miguel has done it thousands of times. 
Thoroughly pissed off Miguel lifts the now limp figure in the air. Now seeing the comparison between the two you see how the guy didn’t even stand a chance to Miguel, in fact, the figure now seems to be quite slender. Carefully you approach Miguel and the figure. 
 in an animalistic growl, Miguel finally speaks. “What are you doing breaking into y/ns house…” 
The figure lets out a whimper of “Who?” the continues in a pathetic plea,  
“Please sir don’t kill me,” Sir? What? That’s not how intruders sound. Miguel lifts the mask off the person's face to reveal a young man probably a freshman in high school looking like he’s about to pee himself. The young man turns to you with desperate eyes. 
“Ma’am, can you tell your husband to put me down?” Okay, not my husband but I’m not going to correct them. 
“Um, first you need to explain why you were breaking in before I call the police “ 
The kid lets out a whine  “Please don’t! it was just a stupid prank, I was supposed to scare Kenny Crain.” The kid's face flushes and starts to cry
Looking at them confused, you ask, “Kenny Crain?” 
The kid sadly nods and Miguel’s grip tightens, You continue “No Kenny Crain lives here?” Gesturing to your house. 
The kid's tears stop and he looks at you in shock “wait this isn't 945?”
You shake your head “This is 925” 
The kid stops crying and looks to a nearby bush “TYLER YOU FUCKING IDIOT! You scoped the wrong house!” 
A bush rustles before letting out a pathetic “sorry-“ 
Miguel drops the teenager from his grasp to the ground, he makes a sit-down motion with his hand and the teen eagerly obeys. 
With long strides, Miguel goes to the bush and plucks the other teenager out lifting him by the collar and placing him next to his friend. 
Watching as Miguel scolds the teenager you feel a smile creep across your face and that same tingly feeling in your stomach, Miguel O’Hara your hero. 
Walking over you grab Miguel’s arm causing him to fall silent from his reprimanding of the two teens. 
“Miguel, I think they learned their lesson.” You look at the two pathetic-looking teens and they nod urgently. 
Miguel stares at the two young men again, not over what they did “You two, go home and don’t ever do anything like this again. Or else….” 
With that the teens start scrambling and apologizing, running off into the late Halloween night. Your eyes fall to Miguel, his bare chest heaving as he watches the boys run off in irritation, he looks gorgeous. Miguel had come to protect you again, it’s only right you repay him. Sliding your arms around his waist you press soft kisses to his warm body. 
Tease muscles begin to relax with each passing kiss from your soft lips. Swiftly he turns around and looks down at you. You thought he looked fantastic during the day right now he looks damn ethereal. A soft kiss is pressed to your lips, it's caring and full of passion. 
Slipping his tongue past your lips you suddenly feel the night air grazing across your ass as Miguel lifts your robe before his warm hands come to grip you rear, making you whimper. 
Breaking the kiss in one fluid motion Miguel scoops you from your feet and carries you into your home. The kiss becomes hungrier with each passing moment, and before you know it you're crashing onto your sofa with Miguel over you caging you beneath his hard body. Moans escape your lips as he gropes your body, his hands quickly undo your robe, then quickly grab a hold of your breast to play with your sensitive buds, his tongue drags over them coating them in his saliva.  
Pulling away you look at him with blown-out eyes buckling your hips uncontrollably toward him, it's like your in heat. Chuckling softly he bites his lip and he starts to undo his pants, you're still shuddering with anticipation when his cock springs out. 
“You didn't want to go back to the bedroom?” you ask in a shaky breath, holding your hands out to him. Did you want to go back to the room, no you just want to tease him. 
Grabbing a hold of your hands he leans in placing kisses on your fingers and your knuckles before he pins them over your head. 
“I thought you wanted to finish your silly horror movie marathon,” he coos
Grabbing his length with the free hand he slaps it against your aching cunt causing you to jolt your hips up with a quick moan. Proud of himself for the reaction he gets from you he continues as he rubs his cock through your wet folds to gather your arousal, 
“figured we could multitask.”  
With that he slowly seathes himself into your wet heat, your moaning and clawing in back relishing in that fullness you're sure to get addicted to. Miguel can't help but throw his head back at how your pussy sucks him in tightening around him instantly and he's not even fully in yet. Miguel just keeps pumping his hard cock through your velvety tight walls, watching your brain get hazier with each thrust that kisses your cervix, keeping at this you're sure to forget to even breathe let alone watch a movie. 
The Tv seems like a faint buzz between the sounds of Miguel's thrusts and grunts married with your whimpering pants and squelching pussy. The TV catches your attention for a single moment -” Don’t go away, we are playing all Your horror favorites till the witching hour!” 
Miguel grabs your chin and brushes his thumb across your wet lips, a mischievous smirk on his lips makes your sex tighten on him, “Looks like we’re in for a long night baby.”
2K notes · View notes
batterygarden · 21 days
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can you help me, sensei?
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contents: alpha! satoru gojo x omega! gn & afab reader. taboo dynamics (you used to be jujutsu tech student, he was/is a mentor figure), age gap, a/b/o, p in v sex with knotting and heat, manhandling (he’s strong), mult orgasms, gojo is bigger than u, barely there exhibitionism bc his house keepers are home, pet names, 1.8 k words
a/n: my contribution for @lorelune ‘s spring fever collab! ^_^ thanks for hosting <3 <3 <3
18+, minors dni please
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Satoru’s sitting in his home office answering emails when you knock on his door, flooding the room with a certain tell-tale sugary fragrance the moment you step inside. Satoru sighs. You’ve only been staying with him two short days. This is what he gets for helping an ex-student in need, ignoring Nanami’s warnings about ‘sharing a space with an omega’.
“Hey bunny,” Satoru speaks slowly, eventually halting his typing when he looks up at you. “Something wrong?” (He knows what’s wrong. He knows that you know he knows. He’s buying himself time to reckon with it.)
“Uhm yes actually—” he feels a prick of guilt for asking. You’ll struggle to say it. “---I, uh, made a mistake.”
You inch your way closer, skittish but needy. Like he’s a stranger with food in his palms. Maybe that’s a generous comparison—Gojo can’t possibly come off that inviting. Maybe it’s as if he’s some murderous beast sleeping in a field of berries, and you’re starving. He needs to work on his analogies.
He scoots his chair away from his desk when you make your way around it, turning to face you with spread legs, inviting you in because he can’t help but want to. Your smell is so strong his mouth is watering.
“You’re in heat,” he says matter-of-factly. You flinch from your halted distance of a yard away.
“I need help.”
“Thought you were on suppressants.”
“I am! I mean—I thought I was! I’m starting to—ngh,” He watches you rub your thighs together. “---think they were expired or something.”
“‘s that so…” Gojo thumbs at the edge of his blindfold, prolonging the inevitable. This is a bother.
You nod frantically, your expression pained. Desperate and pleading like maybe you really are starving.
Gojo is mad, somewhere. He should be, at least. Any logic is forgotten with the clean air he breathed before your dramatic entrance, though.
This is Satoru Gojo’s first time feeling the true pull of his instincts. They rid him of his renowned self control—a lifetime of careful barriers and walls and techniques, wiped away by his cock and your fucking pheromones. It should be laughable.
But the instincts rob him of humor, too.
“Does it hurt?” His voice is soft without trying—he’s genuinely concerned. You’re helpless, his insides are screaming—he needs to do something.
Your eyes turn glassy when you nod, and Satoru has to grapple with the way it feels like the world will end if they spill over. Or worse, maybe he’d get even hornier.
He shushes you, pulling you into his lap carefully, like your limbs are held together with school glue, gently tugging till you straddle him.
“You poor thing. So needy huh?”
Your answering pout makes his cock twitch.
“Need an alpha to fill you up?” He says it so soft, it’s like a lulluby.
He doesn’t expect your quiet temperament to reply, but you do. “Yes, please, alpha—sensei, I really need it.”
That’s all he can take before he’s rubbing his face into your neck, inhaling and licking at the sweetness there before he bites, leaving a permanent mark, relishing in your whines while a warm hand slots between your legs.
And just like that, you’re being mated with Satoru Gojo. A teacher from school that taught the other students in your grade while you were busy healing with shoko. The strongest man alive, your sponsor who agreed to house you briefly between moves, an enigma more than a man (and one you don’t even truly know, at that). Just sitting on his lap like this is far more intimate than the two of you have ever come infinitesimally close to being—exchanging small talk and a few mentor-related words of advice was the prior extent of the relationship. There were pet names, sure—but you’ve come to find those were on par for Gojo Sensei’s personality.
Now he’s got teeth in the skin of your throat while his fingers trace right through the center of you, only a thin layer of shorts in the way. You buck automatically, openly desperate, whining when that isn’t enough.
“you poor baby—“ sensei hums, his lips against your pulse. His tone is patronizing, but it soothes you regardless. “It’ll be okay. Gonna make you feel better.”
He speaks against your jaw now, dotting kisses wherever he moves while the sorry excuse for shorts you wear are pulled to the side, your panties with them, so he can really trace you.
Though they aren’t what you truly need, Gojo’s big fingers sate your ache in a way you couldn’t yourself—your body seems to mellow at the touch of an alpha, like it knows you’ll be taken care of now that he’s here.
Instincts less frantic, your sighed please alpha comes slow and heavy as he pushes two fingers inside of you, almost testingly. It’s slow—bordering agonizing—but you wouldn’t put it past gojo sensei to mess with you, even at a time like this.
Your slick floods his fingers at that small action, a whine and a buck of your hips accompanying, and satoru lets out an amused sigh.
You’re preparing to beg for him, plead to stop the teasing, but then… you’re on his cock before you can take another breath.
The relief is unparalleled. One minute he was dipping fingers into your entrance, slow and deceptively gentle before the next he was spreading your juices over his freed cock, pulling you onto him like he’d done it a million times. You suppose the familiarity is from those very instincts that brought you here—your chest practically sings now that they’re sated.
And so do you—you can’t control the cry you let out when he finally stretches you, feeling every ridge and vein of his heavy cock deep inside your tummy just where you’ve been needing him.
“That’s it, little lovie. You’re okay—hah!”
You’ve never heard sensei gasp the way he does when you roll your hips over his. It’s a strained, weak sound—the kind you’ve never known alphas to make.
He digs wide hands into the squish of your waist. “You’re tight.” His voice speaks directly into your ear as he tucks you into his chest then, scooting back into his trusty (thankfully armless) rolling chair so he can plant his feet and sink you down even closer. He makes light work of guiding your hips, the strength of the strongest shining through as he manhandles you up and down his length like you’re a doll.
And you feel like you’ve got the autonomy of one in his hands—his cock inside your tummy seems to hollow out your thoughts while your legs turn weak beneath you. Your arms remain to cling though, wrapping tight around sensei’s shoulders through your first release on his cock. The warm waves of it shock your system, and you cry out for your alpha when it hits you before he captures your lips in his.
Kissing satoru gojo is different from all your past experiences kissing. This one is so gooey and sweet it’s gross—the spearmint taste of his mouth reminding you just who it is you’re mating with. You flash back to Gojo dropping by to bug your sensei during your apprenticeship—dwelling on the way he’d talk to you like some silly kid. He’d always invade your personal space to tease you for no reason but to see you flustered, not that he needed to—you’d fluster easy just from his handsome alpha proximity, the minty smell of his breath.
It’s gross that such a mature mentor figure’s got you clamping hard on his cock now, tongue deep in your mouth to dull the sound of your whines.
But the disgusting nature of it all has you cumming in buckets—squelching on your sensei’s girth with every pump he guides you through.
You’re barely collecting your senses and drifting back to earth with Satoru pulls you off him, chuckling at the delayed clinging you react with. Of course you’re not strong enough to hold your body to his when he’s rearranging you—as much as you try—you have no choice but to get stripped and molded over Gojo’s fancy mahogany desk how he wants.
You’re still disoriented when he enters you again from behind, shoving himself deep deep deep till you’re so full you feel like choking from the stuffed feeling. It’s almost overstimulating when you just came so intensely, but the feel of your alpha splitting you still pleases your inner omega. More than that, you’re delighted.
“A-ahh! A-alpha—“
You can barely get out a word through his heavy thrusting, merciless and rhythmic.
“What is it, sweetheart? ‘S it feel good?”
Gojo digs thumbs beneath your shirt while he speaks, his anchoring grip around your sides surely leaving bruises. Not that you even notice how tight it’s become—all you have the sense for is his cock.
“Yes alpha! Th-thank you!,”
Gojo fucks you through orgasm after orgasm like that, till every pound against your flesh is wet and sticky.
It’s loud too, and, if you were in your right mind, you might worry about the fact that Gojo’s house keepers haven’t even left for the night yet.
You’ve lost track of your orgasms by the time sensei’s pace begins to show, his massive knot catching in your tight folds till he’s stuck deep inside you, while rope after rope of warm cum pumps you full. You finally feel that fever of yours beginning to fade once you’re flooded like that, coming out of your craze only to be met with exhaustion.
Of course you aren’t really done, sensei’s still connected to you with his knot, you can feel its delicious thickness where your body craved it most when you move your hips to go limp on sensei’s desk. You can feel the flood of his hot cum still streaming into you.
Satoru is panting for the first time in your memory, rubbing the soft skin of your hips while he recuperates before murmuring your name.
Then, “still breathin’, bunny?”
You make a little noise, nodding your head with immense effort, letting your eyes droop.
Only to open again when satoru lifts you with an arm beneath your chest, pulling you back till you’re both seated in his office chair. This way you’re still connected with you on his lap, cum still spurting into your womb.
He fishes your shorts from the ground, then, only to mop up your mess on his table, though truthfully most of it was still on each of your thighs.
At least with his table cleared he can move his desktop closer and finish those mission reports he had left—the solo ones he couldn’t pawn off.
You’re in a half conscious state around Gojo’s cock, breathing somewhat evened out with closed eyes, so gojo leans you carefully against his chest, with an arm on either side so he can type. Sure, the stuff on his computer was technically confidential, but you likely wouldn’t be alert for a while. And even if you were, did the whole classified document rule even apply to you anymore? It’s not like anyone could ask him to keep a secret from you, not now—not when you’re mated.
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captainfern · 3 months
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141Rugby!au [18+]
• Part Five - Perfect •
141 x fem!reader
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You've recently started a new job as a physiotherapist for an English Rugby Union team. It's your job to ensure that all the players are in top shape for upcoming games against other strong teams. This job is absolutely perfect for you: good pay, good hours, a fun and exciting atmosphere to be apart of. But there's just one thing you can't seem to understand– the same four players seem to need more attention than the rest.
chapter summary - rugby season is over, and the boys want to thank you for all your hard work lol.
rating - 18+
wordcount - 8.7k
chapter warnings - fem!reader, straight-up porn the slowburn has ignited baby, sharing <3 [4mx1f], unprotected piv, protected anal, oral [f!&m!receiving], m!masturbation, reader goes to paris lmao, voyeurism ig, praise, a lot of pet-names [baby, bonnie, love, sweetheart, etc], hella dirty talk, light overstimulation, multiple orgasms, spitting? cumplay? idk there's a lot of bodily fluids, price has a breeding kink and a sir kink, simon also has a breeding kink what a fucking surprise, gaz is a munch, johnny's just desperately horny, they work as a team but each get possessive in their own ways, um... that's it i think, oh strong language ofc
disclaimer - physiotherapist, or staff x player sexual relations are not allowed in the real world. but please keep in mind this is fanfiction. it's fake. if you have an issue with inappropriate relations with faculty, blurred morals [etc], then please do not read. additionally, reader be fucking in this series. all four. separately, and at once. it's not cheating, i promise. it's consensual sharing <3
see my rugby union introductory for definitions of rugby words
<- part four
hi !! i am very sorry this took so long for me to write for you guys, but thank you so much for your patience and your support. i appreciate it !! and fyi, this has not been edited or anything like that. i’m posting this shit raw lmao. enjoy and thank you for reading <3
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It was two weeks after Price had asked if you were free this weekend. You were free, and you met up with the boys for dinner. It was nice, polite, and you really got to know them all a lot better. But, undeniably, the sexual tension was through the roof.
If it had been any other day, you would've gone home with them. But you didn't. You had work bright and early the next day, and you knew for a fact you wouldn't have been able to walk.
But two weeks later, it was the night of the Premiership Rugby Awards. Perfect.
The event itself was almost simply a blur. Kyle and Johnny were both commended for their work on and off the rugby field, and you beamed from your spot at the support staff table, watching them congratulate each other, dressed impeccably in ridiculously attractive suits.
Price was nominated for captain of the year, and was runner-up. Still, his team whooped and cheered for him, and you did the same. You and the other supporting staff clapped and hollered as he received a small award, standing awkwardly on stage. At least he didn't have to speak. Walking back to his table, he caught your eye and smiled, winking as the small glass trophy glinted in the light. He held it aloft for you to see, a subtle gesture that made your tummy flip. You held up a thumbs-up for him.
Then, the award of the night, Player of the Year. Simon was nominated and, hardly any surprises there, he won. You resisted the urge to spring to your feet and join the audience in the rapturous applause as he made his way on stage.
He looked out of his depth as he approached the microphone. But, hey, at least he looked really fucking good in that suit. You sipped casually at your champagne through the entire night and listened to the rich baritone of his voice as he delivered his quick, simple speech. And, towards the end–
"A huge thank you, too, to my team's support staff, and especially our physiotherapist, who should be getting award considering she keeps the lot of us intact and puts up with us on a daily basis."
The crowd laughed at that, and you smiled bashfully. Even from across the room, you could feel Simon's eyes on you. And John's. And Johnny's and Kyle's. You took another swig of your beverage, pressing your thighs together beneath the table.
Oh yeah.
Tonight was the night.
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Hours later, you and Gaz stumbled through the door of Johnny and Simon's flat together. He had his hands on your waist, his chest glued to your back and his face buried deep into the crook of your neck. You giggled as he wrapped his arms further around you, your hands resting on his forearms as he slowly began sucking a kiss onto the curve of your neck.
Although no one was drunk, you and Gaz were definitely the tipsiest. The small amount of alcohol in your system was enough to flood you full of liquid courage as you squirmed in Gaz's hold, rubbing your arse back onto his very prominent erection in his suit trousers. He groaned into the crook of your neck, his teeth grazing against you, as the three others finally walked through the front door.
Johnny was the first to engage– his eyes lit up in excitement as he kicked his shoes off and hurried over to you and Gaz. You giggled again, smiling at his enthusiasm as he grasped your face in both of his hands and kissed you. You smiled into the kiss– messy with tongue and spit– and enjoyed the warmth of his hands against the side of your head. Gaz had backed himself against the wall, and he continued to suck a line of kisses over your neck as Johnny kissed you.
Simon and Price stood in the doorway, watching the way you were wedged between Johnny and Gaz. They exchanged a look, a knowing glint in their eyes, before they made their move.
Price lit up a cigar as Simon shrugged off his suit jacket, tossing it into the living room and hoping it landed across the couch. He was left in his white, form-fitting dress shirt. He began rolling up the sleeves as Price exhaled a puff of smoke into the air.
Johnny was still kissing you like his life depended on it, but one of his hands had travelled south, slowly beginning to peel away the straps of your dress. They fell down your shoulders, and Gaz helped push it down your arm, all the way until your breasts spilled out the front. Johnny broke the kiss and moaned loudly, his hands immediately shooting upwards to cup you, twisting your nipples between his thumb and forefinger. You whined, arching against Gaz, whose hands travelled down your stomach and pushed your dress down at the same time.
Your dress dropped, pooling around your ankles, leaving you in just your underwear. You heard all four boys react in different ways to the almost dramatic reveal of your body– a subtle hitch of the breath from Simon and Price, and two very desperate whimpers from Gaz and Johnny.
Wordlessly, Gaz's hands skimmed lower. They passed gently over the soft mound of your tummy, rubbing gently just above the hemline of your underwear. He was less than a second away from pushing his fingertips inside when Simon approached; a looming shadow over the three of you intwined against the wall.
Gaz looked up, his mouth still pressed hot against the bare curve of your neck and shoulder. His lips glistened with saliva, and so did your skin. Johnny looked at Simon too, his hands still cupping both of your tits.
"Not here," Simon said softly. "Come on lads, be gentleman. Let's take our girl to bed."
You whined when Johnny stepped away, the warmth on your tits vanishing with him, your nipples hardening against the cool air in the flat. Even the warmth of Gaz disappeared too– he peeled himself away from you with one last cheeky kiss to the spot just below your ear. For a brief moment, you were alone– until Simon's hands were suddenly gripping the back of your thighs and he was hoisting you into his arms.
You yelped, arms circling the broad expanse of his shoulders as he held you to his chest, your nipples catching against the buttons of his dress shirt as you squirmed against him. You squirmed for two reasons: one being because of the shock of him carrying you; and two, the fact he was happily groping the soft flesh of your thighs as he began to climb the stairs.
"S'alright, pretty girl, I've got you," Simon murmured in your ear before kissing your cheek. With impressive strength– the strength that won him Player Of The Year– he carried you effortlessly to the top of the stairs, and then carried you all the way to what was presumably his bedroom. When he entered, Gaz, Johnny and Price weren't far behind, and he settled you gently on the edge of his bed. With one hand, he gently cupped your face. "You okay, doc? S'this what you want? All of us?"
You were nodding before he even finished his sentence, looking between the men in front of you with glimmering eyes. Of course this is what you wanted. This is what you have wanted for the past several months.
"If at any point you want us to stop, jus' say rugby," Simon said, a sternness in his tone that had your cunt leaking in your underwear. "We'll stop, okay? Promise me, doc. Promise us."
"I promise," you squeaked out. "I promise."
"Good girl..." Price uttered, leaning down from next to Simon and kissing you on the forehead. He stepped away before you could pull him into a proper kiss.
Instead, you reached up and pinched your fingers around one of the buttons on Simon's shirt, beginning to unbutton it. He chuckled lowly, his hand leaving your face to grab hold of your wrist.
"Not yet, love," he said softly, his tone putting you at ease as butterflies began filling your stomach. "We've got this all planned out, okay? You'll have me soon, but Gaz n' Johnny are gonna make you feel good first. Is that okay?"
His words, searching for your consent, made you whimper. You nodded, of course, whining a yes please as Simon stepped away. Your eyes found Gaz, who was already walking towards you, and you couldn't help but giggle when he got close and slotted his mouth to yours.
Gaz kissed you deeply, his tongue breaching the seam of your lips and licking against yours as his hands came to rest on your hips. With a little force, he pushed you up the bed– still kissing you– and lay you down on your back. Your hands found his shoulders– now bare of his suit– and your fingers flexed down the smooth planes of muscle. He groaned into your mouth, pulling back and dragging his lips down the curve of your jaw, beginning to suck even more kisses to the sensitive expanse of your throat.
"Such a pretty girl, bonnie..." Johnny approached, the bed sinking to his weight as he crawled alongside you. Immediately, he slipped his hands between you and Gaz and began pawing at your tits, rolling your nipples with the pads of his thumbs. Like Gaz, he had somehow stripped to his briefs between Simon putting you down onto the bed, and now. The hard imprint of his cock against his black underwear had you moaning, arching against Gaz– your clothed cunt rocking against his erection, making you moan even harder.
Johnny kissed you again as Gaz worked on peppering your entire body with kisses. He was now slapping Johnny's hands away from your tits so that he could take one into his mouth, swirling his tongue around you. Johnny broke the kiss with a saliva-soaked "th'fuck?" and a light frown. Gaz looked up at him challengingly as he pressed his tongue hot to your nipple– pulling a little whimper from you– and Johnny accepted his challenging stare. The Scot slinked down your body, not wasting any time with extra kisses– instead, he attached his mouth directly to your other breast, his teeth nipping the soft flesh.
Across the room, Simon and Price watched. They were a bit older, a bit more experienced, and had a bit more patience then the two players pinning you to the mattress currently. Although, Simon could feel his patience wearing thin. Your moans and whimpers were heavenly, and you looked absolutely stunning. He felt his cock twitching in his trousers, and kept his palm pressing heavily against it.
Price eyed his teammate and then offered him a puff of his cigar while Gaz and Johnny sucked and kissed your chest, their hands beginning to explore your almost naked body.
Simon accepted the cigar and took a long drag. Price huffed, smiling coyly when Simon returned the cigar. "Patience, Simon." It was said in a whisper, and Simon's response was a grunt and a subtle roll of his eyes. Yeah, he can be patient. Sure.
"Gaz, Johnny, fuck–" You whimpered, one of your hands cupping both Gaz and Johnny's heads. Gaz blinked up at you and was the first to detach his mouth, lips still shining with his saliva.
He moved down your body as Johnny continued his sucking– he had moved back to your neck, nipping at your collarbone now. Gaz settled himself between your legs, rubbing your thighs softly before hooking his fingers into the waistband of your underwear. He searched your eyes for permission and when he found it, when you nodded and mouthed a desperate please, he carefully pulled your underwear down.
Instead of tossing them across the room like he usually would have done, he looked to his side and held them aloft, gesturing at the two men sitting on the couch in the corner of Simon's room.
Simon nodded, and snatched them up after Gaz threw them. His cock twitched in his trousers, painfully hard against the seams, as he felt the sheer dampness of your underwear and the expensive fabric against his hand. God, he wanted to wrap it around his cock and paint it white.
Gaz moaned loudly as he spread your legs, exposing your cunt to the shadowed lighting of Simon's room. Price and Simon's eyes were between your legs from across the room, and Price withheld a grunt in his throat, almost choking around an exhale of grey smoke. Like Simon, he left his cock twitching and straining in the confines of his trousers. There was a mutual competition that whoever gave in first and fucked their fist lost. There weren't any particular stakes. Not yet, anyway.
"Just as pretty as I remember," Gaz breathed, massaging your inner thighs. He watched slick dribble out of you and down the curve of your arse with a vulpine smile.
Above him, Johnny removed his mouth from your neck and you could feel how damp your skin was now. You wanted to turn your head to look at him, but you couldn't take your eyes off of Gaz.
The winger kneaded your thighs gently, massaging his fingers into the soft fat as he spread you out for him. His eyes, gleaming with excitement, were transfixed on the way your cunt fluttered, your swollen clit glistening between your folds. You watched him run the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip before he leaned in and placed a gentle kiss to your pussy.
You gasped, chest heaving, eyes still on Gaz when he placed another kiss against you, as though he was kissing your cheek. His eyelashes fluttered and a deep moan rumbled from his chest. Quickly, he deepened the kiss until he was licking the point of his tongue through your folds and his nose was pressed flush to your clit.
"Oh, fuck–" you whimpered. Memories of the way Gaz ate you out last time flooded you, making your body heat up. He was so fucking good.
He looked up at you from between your legs, soft brown eyes staring into yours. They were still gleaming, crinkled at the edges as though he was smiling– smiling into your soaked cunt as he dragged his tongue through your folds and licked up as much of your arousal as he could. Cheeky little–
A hand grabbed your jaw and forced your head to the side. You parted your lips to gasp, but the sound was sucked from your mouth as Johnny smashed his mouth to yours.
He held your face firmly, whining loudly into the kiss as he licked his tongue against yours. His other hand was dipping into his briefs and pulling his achingly hard cock out. He fisted it, whining loudly again, and you couldn't help but smile.
Clearly, Simon found it amusing too.
"Gettin' desperate, are we, Johnny?" He mocked from across the room.
Johnny broke the kiss, panting against your mouth as he jerked his cock, his hand still holding your head in place. He whined softly when his fingertips ghosted the underside of his cockhead, and he breathed deeply in an attempt to bite back at Simon's remark.
"S'not fair..." He whined again, sounding more and more like a wounded puppy, or something else along those lines. "She's got such a pretty mouth an' s'not bein' used properly."
He kissed you deeply again, all spit and teeth and tongue. It was hard to keep up, the way Johnny was invading your space. Your brain was foggy, body on fire, only thinking about the men around you and, especially, the fact you were about to come.
You moaned into Johnny's mouth– both Price and Simon moaning in response as they palmed at their clothed hard-ons– as Gaz sucked your clit into his mouth. He swirled his tongue around the puffy bud, his top teeth just skimming it, before he was quickly dragging his mouth just that little bit lower so that he could stuff your leaking hole. He pushed his tongue in with a light moan, grinding his hips into the mattress as he did so. Your taste, your smell, your noises, everything was making him harder.
You managed to turn your head away from Johnny's mouth. He huffed, leaning his forehead against your temple, mouthing at your cheek and jaw with light puffs eliciting from his saliva-slick lips. He was still jerking himself off, his cock leaking pre-cum onto Simon's sheets.
"Kyle..." You moaned the winger's government name. "M'gonna– oh my god, oh my god–"
Gaz kept the thrusting of his tongue steady, humming against you as your legs shook within his grasp.
Johnny, the desperate man he was, pulled your mouth back to his, licking a stripe over your lips before muttering, "That's a good girl, bonnie. Come for us. Come n' then I'll– I'll stuff this pret– fuck, pretty mouth with my– ah– my cock." After uttering that against your lips, he was shoving his tongue back into your mouth.
Then, you came for the first time of the night.
The coil in your lower belly snapped and you moaned loudly against Johnny, back arching off of Simon's mattress as Gaz held your hips and thighs, pinning them as he licked you through your orgasm. His eyes were on you the entire time, watching as you unravelled while he licked up your release which dripped out of you and down his chin.
When Gaz pulled away, Johnny was manhandling you onto your hands and knees. You yelped, still fuzzy from your orgasm, as the Scot pulled you into position where your head was resting on one of his hairy thighs, your arse in the air.
"Need you," he muttered, pawing at the back of your neck while he stroked his cock and guided it towards your mouth. "Need you so fuckin' bad–"
"Slow down, Johnny." Simon growled from across the room.
Gaz laughed as he got up, not bothering to wipe the rivulets of your arousal that tracked down his chin and, now, down the column of his neck. He rolled his shoulders, easing the tension from laying on his front, before shucking down his briefs and shuffling back onto the bed.
"He's been waiting a long time for this, Simon," Gaz joked in the number eight's direction. "He knows our girl's been worth the wait."
Simon grunted, Price's cigar now between his lips. "Still doesn't mean he can throw her around like that."
"Simon–" Johnny gasped from the head of the bed. He was dragging the leaking, reddened tip of his cock against your lips, smearing his pre-cum over his saliva which already wet you. He looked over at his teammate. "Shut the fuck up."
Simon scowled. "Watch it–"
But Johnny wasn't listening anymore. Not when he eased his cock past your lips and into the warm, wet heat of your mouth. He moaned, really fucking loudly, as you hollowed your cheeks for him and took him further back in your throat. You withheld a gag, tears blotting the base of your vision as Johnny's cock nudged the back of your throat.
"JesusfuckingChrist," The Scot hissed, the hand on the back of your neck tightening so he could pull you closer towards him. Your nose rested in the coarse hair at the base of your cock, and you moaned quietly, eyes upwards and locked onto his. You could already feel him twitching in your mouth as you gently bobbed your head, a trickle of saliva being forced out from the corner of your mouth.
Meanwhile, Gaz was gripping his cock tightly at the base, his other hand squishing and squeezing at the fat of your arse and thighs. He was muttering something to himself, something you couldn't hear, but whatever it was made Soap chuckle above you.
"F'you like her arse so much, use it," Johnny joked, and you whined, your core fluttering.
Behind you, Gaz stopped muttering beneath his breath and released a breathy laugh, his hand holding one of your arsecheeks and pulling it gently to the side. "I'll need to stretch her out first..."
"We've got all night," Soap remarked, thrusting his hips and making you gag around him. A tear rolled down your cheek and you hummed out a whine at the way both of them were talking about you as if you weren't even there.
You couldn't see it, but Gaz smiled. He then vanished from behind you for a moment, before returning, popping the cap on the small bottle of lube and pouring a generous amount over two of his fingers. He then spread you again, pouring even more of the cool liquid directly onto your hole. And, for good measure, he let a glob of spit fall from his mouth and slide down your crack.
You moaned loudly around Johnny's cock as one of Kyle's fingers pressed against your hole, rubbing circles carefully while his other hand reached between your legs to rub a finger over your puffy clit. You moaned again, and the vibrations had Johnny whimpering quietly above you, hips bucking, the grip he had on the back of your neck tightening.
"Such a pretty mouth, such a pretty mouth," he chanted through his whining, eyes screwed shut and head tossed back as he continued to push and pull your head down his length.
Across the room, the sounds of your muffled moans and Johnny's whines, paired with the sight of Gaz spreading you open before him was enough– enough for him to hastily pull his cock out of his trousers and wrap it in your soaked underwear. He jerked his fist once, twice, three times before stopping, glancing over at Price who simply shook his head, chuckling.
"Soap," Price said after he had finished giving Simon an amused look. "Let our girl breath, yeah? Give her a break."
Your eyes rolled and you moaned loudly– not at Price's words, but at the feeling of Gaz pushing a thick finger into your arse, gently probing and stretching you open. You wondered if the light buzz of alcohol in your veins was making the sensations a whole lot more enjoyable.
Johnny whined. "But–"
"Pull your fuckin' cock out, Johnny," Simon hissed, resuming his hand movements, your underwear still wrapped around his dick.
Johnny whined once more, but pulled out like his captain and teammate said. He continued to hold the back of your neck, petting you gently as he slid his cock out of your mouth, strings of saliva connecting your lips and his shaft. He moaned at the sight, tempted to shove it back into the warmth of your mouth– but the burning sensation of Simon's eyes on him made him pause.
"This better fuckin' mean I get to fill her cunt," he grumbled, much to your amusement. You smiled up at him, and he smiled back, moving his other hand to cradle the side of your head.
Price grunted, and you broke eye contact with the scrum-half to look over at him and Simon on the couch. He too was pulling his hard cock out of his trousers and fisting it in his hand. The sheer size of the both of them made your core heat up all over again, butterflies returning to your stomach.
After a short moment, Gaz had two fingers inside you, scissoring you open while Johnny pet your face, staring down at you as you mouthed gently at his cock. You ran the tip of your tongue along the prominent vein on the underside, causing his entire body to wrack with shudders.
"Ready?" Gaz asked Soap, and the Scot looked away from you in the first time in about five minutes.
He nodded eagerly, a grin splitting across his face as he slid his hands beneath your armpits and hoisted you up onto your knees. You yelped, the action unexpected, and the sudden loss of Gaz's fingers from inside you making you feel empty, almost hollow. But, as Gaz split open a condom and rolled it onto his length, Soap's hands were all over you, and not once did you feel empty again.
"You alright, bonnie?" He asked, hands gripping your knees and spreading your legs apart so he could slot himself between them, his cock rutting through the folds of your pussy.
You momentarily lost your train of thought, your mouth dropping open and a small "uh..." dripping from it.
Price exhaled a plume of smoke around his words as he spoke to you. "Use your words, darling. S'alright if you want to stop."
Forcing your muddled mind away from the feeling of Soap's warm cock, you looked over at Simon and Price and shook your head, uttering out a string of "no, no, no."
"M'fine," you added for good measure. "Please don't stop."
As long as they had the green light, the lads weren't going to stop. Gaz had a large hand across one of your arsecheeks, holding it to the side as he guided the head of his cock to your stretched hole. Johnny waited patiently, his cockhead rubbing cruel circles against your swollen clit, not quite enough to give you proper stimulation. But, it was a pleasant distraction– a distraction from the initial stretch of Gaz carefully pushing his cock into you. Slow, slow, slow.
You released a shuddered gasp, head dropping forward to rest on Johnny's shoulder. Breathing laboured, you panted against his dewy skin as Gaz stopped, pulled out a centimetre, then pushed back in– over and over until his hips were wedged up right against your backside and he was dipping his mouth into the crook of your neck, breathing in your perfume.
"Good girl, baby..." He whispered, pressing a kiss to the pulse below your ear. "This okay?"
You nodded. "Yeah... it's okay."
"Tell me when you want me to move."
"Now," you said almost immediately, mind fuzzing over with pleasure. The pleasure of feeling full and hot and sweaty and completely fucked out. "Please move, Kyle, fuck–"
He did. He pulled out and pushed back in, ebbing like the tide with gentle thrusts that knocked the air out of your lungs. You cried out his name, head no longer resting on Johnny's shoulder, but leaning back against Gaz's.
Johnny couldn't wait any longer. The tip of his cock soon aligned with your leaking cunt, and he was pushing in just as Gaz pushed in as well. Both me released a guttural groan, their cock's only separated by a thin wall inside you.
But the noise you made was nothing short of pornographic– a high-pitched, breathy whine that was punched from the depth of your stomach. Your entire body fizzled, tingling with pleasure as both men used you at the same time, thrusting in and out at the same time. The intensity of it all had tears running down your cheeks, your chest tightening between breaths.
Soap's voice broke around a whimper. "You're so damn tight."
Gaz was next to speak. "Can't believe... can't believe we went so long without having you, eh, doc?"
The way they were talking to you was driving you crazy. Hell, the way they were moving against you was driving you crazy. You couldn't believe you went so long without letting them have you, either.
"Doing such a good job for Johnny and Kyle, sweetheart," Simon said, which you only heard vaguely, like an echo in a dark room. "Looking so fuckin' pretty taking both of their cocks. Doesn't she, lads?"
"Fuck, yeah–" Johnny moaned, not really listening, his eyes attached to the way his cock pistoned in and out of you.
Gaz was the same. Distracted. Too busy sucking wet kisses along the side of your neck. Too busy trying not to come straight away, the tight walls of your hole milking his cock with each upwards thrust. He did leave his trance-like state for a short period of time, enough to praise you and say your name in a breathless moan.
"Our good girl, doc. Y'just our good girl," he breathed against you. "Fuck– knew you'd be good. We just knew you'd be perfect."
That sentence alone had your stomach tightening with your next orgasm, thighs trembling and sweat building between your bodies. For a split second, you wondered what your electrolyte levels would be after this (the thought was wiped from your head when the head of Johnny's cock slammed up against your g-spot, making you mewl).
You struggled to keep your eyes open as your climax neared. Your senses were going into hyperdrive– the smells, the sounds, the everything was making you drunker than the alcohol you had already consumed earlier that night.
The smells of Soap and Gaz, their sweat and cologne, was like an aphrodisiac as they pinned you between their bodies, moving in tandem. The sounds of Johnny's moans and whimpers, and Gaz's breathless whines and grunts were driving you insane– as were the quiet groans coming from the couch across the room.
"Gaz... Johnny..." You mewled, body hot, clit throbbing. "I..."
You couldn't finish your sentence. Luckily, you didn't have too.
"Gonna come?" It was Price who put the words out into the open. "You gonna come, pretty girl? Go on. Tell 'em."
You repeated the first two words Price had said, following them with desperate moans of both Johnny and Kyle's names. Johnny's hands tightened on yours, slamming up into you while Kyle's were smoothing up and down your abdomen, hips grinding into your backside. The sensations threw you over the edge.
You came hard– both men caught off guard by the way your body tightened around them. Your head dropped back against Gaz's shoulder, and he kissed your cheek.
"Holy fuck," Johnny cursed, breathless. His chest was heaving, forehead glistening in a thin layer of sweat, and a slight tinge of red to his cheeks. Your cunt fluttered around the girth of him, all wet and warm and tight, causing his thrusts to falter, stutter, before he was coming inside you with no warning. "Holy fuck."
You whimpered, energy being sapped from your body at the feeling of him coming inside you while you were still coming down from your high. You could feel his cock twitching as he emptied himself up against your cervix, but you were distracted from the simple movement when he leaned forward and slotted his mouth against yours.
Soap kissed you exactly how he'd kissed you at the beginning of the night. Still full of passion and longing as the warm mass of his tongue swept over yours, slicking over the tops of your teeth. One of his hands found the back of your neck once more, and he held you to him while you kissed– all the while Gaz continued to rut gently into you, his own orgasm nearing.
"Baby, m'gonna pull out..." Gaz whispered into your ear, one of his hands kneading the flesh of your arse. "M'gonna pull out, take this fuckin' condom off, and come where you want me to come, m'kay?"
You forced your way out of Soap's searing kiss, turning your head so you could nod your acknowledgment to the winger behind you (luckily for you, he began kissing down your chest instead). Gaz did as he said and pulled out. He did so slowly, his hands rubbing your arse and hips the entire time. When his cock left you, you released a little whine, cool air seeming to fill you and make you shiver.
"You're okay, you're okay..." Gaz reappeared behind you after pulling his condom off, tying it and tossing it somewhere in the room (Simon had shot him a dirty look for that). One of his hands was on your hip again, his body melting into yours, his chest to your back. You could feel him fisting his cock behind you, the leaking tip smearing pre across the small of your back.
"Where d'you want me?" He asked you softly, and for a moment, it just felt as though you and him were the only ones in the room. If it wasn't for Soap sucking on your tits like a fucking maniac, the private intimacy between you and Kyle would've been believable.
To answer, you wiggled your hips against him, mumbling something along the lines of on me while trying to grab a fistful of Soap's mohawk and pull him away so you could arch forward. The Scot was stubborn, though, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth with a sparkle in his eyes.
Simon helped you out.
"Johnny, don't fuckin' push it," he growled and that was the first time you had heard him speak in a while.
You looked over to him, finding that he was still languidly fisting his cock; the tip red and angry, leaking pearl after pearl of precum. He was edging himself. Your stomach flipped with arousal, pussy fluttering.
Johnny backed off like a kicked dog, pouting as he shuffled to the edge of the bed. Gaz smiled, winking at his Scottish teammate as he placed a hand to the small of your back and guided you onto your knees and elbows, creating a perfect arch in your back and a perfect view of your arse for him. Then, he quickened the pace of his wrist, stroking his cock for a few seconds before he was painting your arse white.
Like Soap, Gaz moaned loudly when he came. The sound dissolved into a low whine as he fucked his fist through it, not stopping until he ran dry and his cock only just softened beneath his grip.
A few moments passed before you flattened yourself across the bed, laying on your stomach with exhaustion rolling over your body in waves. Johnny was the first to up and leave, placing a kiss to the crown of your head before he was moving across the room. Gaz stayed with you, his hands rubbing soothingly up and down your back.
"Doing so well for us," he told you. "D'you need anything? Water?"
You nodded and mere seconds later, Johnny was offering you a glass of cold water. You sat up to drink it, Gaz's cum smearing against Simon's sheets. You were hyperaware of Soap's cum dripping out of you and onto the sheets too. It made goosebumps bloom up your arms and legs, a shiver crawling through you.
Once you had drunken, the lads switched places like they had been practising.
Johnny and Gaz slipped away with one more kiss each to your lips, before two larger, broader figures were blocking your vision. Both Price and Simon had stripped now, all big chests and soft stomachs and hard cocks. It made you salivate.
"Just a bit longer, sweetheart, then you can have a nice break," Price cooed, walking up to the edge of the bed and placing his hand beneath your chin, gripping your jaw and angling your eyes up to him. While he did that, Simon slipped onto the bed behind you, the mattress dipping under his weight, and slotted himself up against you. Price squeezed your jaw once. "You feeling okay?"
You nodded, but something inside you prompted you to respond with a sultry "Yes, sir" while you stared up at him. A coy smile split along his face and before long, he was leaning down to kiss you. He tasted of smoke and expensive liquor as he kissed you, his tongue immediately invading your mouth.
"You want her first?" Simon asked, and you jolted in fright, almost forgetting he was right behind you.
John broke the kiss and, still holding your jaw, looked over at Simon and shook his head.
"You can go first."
The arrangement was set.
Simon pulled you away from John, and you couldn't help but yelp at the way he manhandled you onto your stomach. Then, he grabbed your hips and pulled you back onto your knees, your breasts and arms resting against the bed. The captain had crawled onto the bed and, after tossing aside Simon's pillows, settled himself at the head of the bed, leaning against the headboard. He spread his legs, patting one of his thick thighs invitingly.
Simon acted for you– pushing you up the bed and pushing another startled yelp from you. Your head came to rest against the warm, solid mass of Price's thigh, and his hand was put to work atop your head, petting you as though you were a cat.
Behind you, the number eight was nudging your legs apart with his knee, his large body doubling over yours as he slotted his hips against your arse, his achingly hard cock brushing over your soaked folds. You keened, moaning lightly as the tip of his cock nudged your clit, the thick weight of him smearing your and Johnny's cum up and down your slit. It made you shiver again.
"You don't have to do anything, okay, sweetheart?" Price uttered above you, still petting your head. His other hand gripped the base of his cock tightly. You watched a dribble of precum leak down the underside of it. "You're just going to lay there and be a good girl for me and Simon, okay? Be a good girl and take everything we give you."
At the completion of the captain's sentence, Simon notched the head of his cock at your hole. Your breath hitched.
Price cooed down at you. "S'alright... that's a good girl, just take it."
Simon eased into you, his cock splitting you open more than Soap's had. He was a bit thicker, and the stretch of it all had a moan catching in your throat. It stayed there until Simon bottomed out– the sound filtering from your mouth sounding like something out of a low-budget porno (it made Price's cock twitch, though).
"Fuck," you heard Simon hiss behind you. "S'a tight fuckin' pussy."
"Told you."
"Shut the fuck up, Johnny." Simon almost growled as he pulled out and then slammed back into you.
You cried out, sobbing a "S-Simon!" as his pace increased, his thrusts hitting deeper and deeper each time. You could feel the ruddy tip of him hitting the plug of your cervix, his girth stretching you open in such a way that you wondered whether you'd be able to walk tomorrow.
Probably not.
You realised both Gaz and Soap were sitting on the couch, and without even turning your head, you knew they'd be watching with their cock in hand. The intensity of the entire situation was otherworldly, and most definitely contributing to the fast rate at which your orgasm was approaching.
The sound of Ghost's cock moving in and out of you was lewd and wet. Wet shlick, shlick, shlick's and the slapping sound of skin-on-skin echoed throughout Simon's room, as well as the occasional creak of the bedframe and the hushed sounds of pleasure coming from the couch.
Bent over you, Simon was huffing and grunting. Deep groans left his parted lips periodically as he fought off his orgasm. God, the second he shoved his cock into the tight clutch of your cunt he wanted to come. But not yet. Not fucking yet.
"S'that feelin' good, pretty girl?" He asked you, his voice swimming through your head.
"Yes–!" You cried, one hand holding Price's wrist (his hand was still on your head), the other fisting the bedsheets beside Price's other leg.
"Yeah? You like being fucked by all four of us, hm? Like being stuffed full, don't you?" He didn't let you answer. He continued, "O'course you do, baby. 'Course you do. Such a needy little pussy... She just loves gettin' filled up, I can feel it."
Words evaded you. So you nodded. You nodded against Price's thigh, tears smearing against his hairy skin. He petted you gently, shushing you as Simon continued to rut into you, his entire body shaking with restraint. He needed you to come first.
"Want you to come for me," Simon whispered to you. "Want you to come all over my cock."
Then, one of his hands found your clit, and you were a goner. He rubbed three rough shapes across the swollen bud, and you were coming with his name falling from your lips.
You squeezed him tight, gushing around him as pleasure overtook you. The entire time you spasmed, your cunt leaking out around his cock, John held you against the mass of his thigh, petting you and massaging down your neck. You heard the odd "good girl" being whispered from him.
Simon praised you in similar fashion. "Good girl. Good fucking girl. My good girl."
The last part was whispered so quietly that you were sure no one else heard it but you. He said it as he curled over you, his chin against your shoulder, his massive arms holding himself over you as he fucked you hard.
"My perfect girl," he whispered again. Only to you. Then, it was like something went off in his brain. He released a low growl, something like a groan but much deeper. "M'gonna come."
"S'about fuckin' time," John joked, but Simon didn't find it at all funny. He ignored his captain.
His attention was only on you.
"M'gonna come right up in here, love." Simon held himself up with one arm, his other arm winding beneath you to grab hold of your tummy. He gripped it, kneading it, before pushing against it until you let out a small moan, the pressure making you dizzy. "M'gonna fill this pretty tummy right up. Fuckin' breed you right in front of the boys."
You were definitely drooling against Price's thigh.
With one last grinding thrust– and just as overstimulation crept into your head– Simon came. He came with a grunt and a quiet moan of your name, his cock right up against your womb as he emptied himself, filling you hot.
The heat made you moan, as well as the image of his cum mixing with Soap's and filling your womb.
What the hell–
The number eight didn't pull out straight away. He stilled above you, hips flush to your arse and his half-hard cock still plugging his cum inside you. Against Price's thigh, you mewled tiredly, shuffling your backside against the solid form of Simon behind you, your hands now travelling along the captain's legs.
Finally, Simon extracted his body from yours, but remained inside you. He kneeled, his large hands travelling down your back before finding your arse. He chuckled to himself, dragging his fingers through Gaz's load that painted you. With his pointer finger, he drew a smeared SR against your left arsecheek.
"Simon, gross," You complained, listening to the way he chuckled darkly to himself. You couldn't see him from your angle, but you knew he was probably grinning too.
Just like in the small period of grace between Soap and Gaz, and Simon and Price, you were offered water, with each man waiting patiently until you had finished the glass. While you drank, the four pairs of eyes on you made your stomach tighten.
This was all so foreign. But, god, you fucking loved it.
When the glass of water was placed soundly on the bedside table, Price slid down from the top of the bed and kneeled towards the end. He held out a hand to you, and you accepted, enabling him to gently lay you down with your head in the pillows (Simon had ordered Soap to pick them off the floor from when Price tossed them).
"Comfortable?" Price asked you, running his warm hands up and down your sides before slowly, slowly parting your legs and exposing your cunt to him.
You nodded. "Yes, sir."
He huffed proudly at that, a small smile surfacing. His hands shifted, and he brushed his knuckles along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.
Beside you, the bed dipped. Simon kneeled on the floor next to the bed, his upper body leaning against the mattress. It was the perfect angle to cradle your face in his hands and wipe the steadily drying streaks of tears and saliva from your skin with his fingers.
Fingers, you realised, had not been cleaned. Fingers that still trekked a milky stripe of Gaz over your face.
You grimaced, and by the way Ghost was biting his lip to hide a smile, he knew what the grimace was for.
"S'a matter, pretty girl? S'just a bit a'cum," he teased lowly, and you had half the mind to smack his hand away. But his next words had you forgiving the action– the cheeky bastard. "Look so pretty covered in us, don't you?"
Kneeling between your legs, Price grunted his agreement with his teammate. He was fisting his cock, watching Simon and Soap's loads dribble out of you.
Pushing his hips forward, he slowly ran the head of his cock up your slit, making a mess of you. You whined, hands holding one of Simon's, as Price repeated the action a couple of times, eyes transfixed.
When Price's eyes did finally find yours, they were glazed, his pupils blown.
"Beg for it, sweetheart," he uttered, voice hoarse. "Beg for my cock."
You did. You started with a few desperate please's and several different curse words when you struggled to find the right things to say. But eventually, with your heart hammering against your ribcage and your clit pulsing in tandem with it, you begged out a yearning, "Please, sir, please– need your cock so bad. Please, captain–"
The captain hummed, pleased, as he thrusted himself into you without another warning. You cried out, arching off the bed as your cunt stretched around him, the tip of him knocking up against the plug of your womb just like Simon's had. It all felt so good you wanted to cry.
"That's it..." Simon whispered to you, nuzzling the side of your head as Price set his pace.
He held your legs either side of him as he fucked you, shunting your body against the mattress again and again. You'd already fucked him before, in his car just a couple of week ago, but this was different. So much different.
It's like he had something to prove. Maybe it was because his teammates, his closest friends, were watching, but he fucked you like he owned you. His thrusts were deep and driving and hit the perfect spot inside you each time. His hands on your legs were firm but gentle, and the way his eyes raked hungrily up your body were claiming enough.
His fingers dipped down to your arse momentarily as he shifted your hips, changing the angle so he could fuck you deeper. He looked over at Simon for a split second and nodded towards one of the pillows. The number eight got the hint, reaching over your head to grab one of his pillows. While he did that, unbeknownst to both you and Simon, Price's fingers wiped the sticky SR from your skin.
Once he had the pillow, Price shoved the pillow beneath you to keep your hips at the perfect angle. This way, he could continue to fuck his cock deeper and deeper into you, and still continue to worship your body with your hands.
But, he was closer than he would've liked to admit. He could feel, with each thrust, and each tightening of your slick, warm walls, his orgasm looming closer and close. That familiar coiling heat in his lower belly.
"C'mon, sweet girl, need you to come," he said breathlessly, then proceeded to push your legs upwards, bending your knees towards your ears. "Need you to come 'round my cock."
"M'close..." You whined, and the change in angle was pulling you tighter, sweat sticking you to the sheets below. But your body was exhausted, shaking and trembling and filled with honey-like pleasure that had your joints feeling heavy. "John, I don't... fuck, I can't–"
"Yes you can, sweetheart, yes you can," Price whispered, leaning down to kiss you. It was a sweet kiss, his facial hair tickling the warm skin of your cheeks and chin. When he pulled away, he placed a few more kisses to your nose, your cheeks and your jaw. "Just one more time for me. C'mon. One more time for your captain."
Well, when he put it that way...
It was like he had trained you, Pavlov's dog style. Your body jerked and you arched up against him, the same time the band of pleasure in your lower abdomen snapped.
"John!" You almost screamed, your orgasm hitting you like a tidal wave. Warmth seeped into your body, flooding your veins as you came around his cock, spasming and fluttering. You were dizzy, euphoria blinding you as he fucked you through it, Simon's hands on your head keeping you grounded.
Your release gushed around John, and he groaned at the way you drenched his pubic hair. The sounds of him moving in and out of you too were too much for him to handle.
(And too much for Soap and Gaz to handle, who spilled over their fists with loud moans from where they were sitting on the couch).
Price desperately wanted to praise you as his girl, a possessive my girl spoken into the universe. But, as captain, he knew better. As much as it did pain him to say, he croaked out a, "That's our girl."
You whined and whimpered, your body thoroughly fucked-out. As much as you enjoyed this, you felt as though you wouldn't be walking for the next few days, and would probably sleep for the next thirty-six hours.
"John, sir..."
"I know, sweetheart, I know, m'coming," he muttered, thrusts beginning to falter. "M'gonna come deep in this tight little pussy. Yeah... fill her up real good."
First Simon, now John? Damn. The personification of your pussy was not what you expected to get out of this tonight. But you weren't complaining.
The captain came, moaning your name loudly into the room. With a gentle hand splayed across your belly, he emptied himself inside you alongside two of his teammates'. The feeling of it never ceased to make his mouth drop open in pleasure.
Simon kissed your temple. "Alright, pretty girl?"
You nodded. "Yeah... more than alright."
•º•º•
You should have known that all four men would be absolute kings at aftercare. It was pure bliss.
Johnny popped into Simon's bathroom to run you a bath while Simon cradled you in his arms, not letting you feel an ounce of loneliness. He had dragged you over to the couch, hugging you to his broad chest and watching as Gaz stripped the bed and made quick work of changing the sheets. Price entered the room with a fresh glass of water and a small bowl of your favourite sweets (you didn't question why Johnny and Simon had them in their flat in the first place).
You sipped your water and snacked on the sugary food for a little while, Ghost's hands rubbing up and down your back. Before long, Johnny reappeared and helped his teammate in guiding you towards the bathroom.
There was a slight argument between who was going to get into the bath with you, but ultimately Gaz one, and Simon begrudgingly handed you over to him. The pair of you sunk into the warm water, and you immediately melted back into him.
"Did such a good job for us, doc..." Gaz whispered in your ear, massaging your thighs and hips from where you were nestled in front of him between his legs.
Simon, who was lurking over the bath like some sort of spectre, nodded. "Such a good girl."
The praise made your body heat up, the steam curling up from the water suddenly scolding.
In the doorway, Johnny watched on with his phone in his hand. He asked you, "D'you want me to order some food?"
You nodded. "Can we please get–?"
He was already walking away. "I know your order, bonnie!"
You made a face at Simon. He shrugged.
Price, like Simon, stood at the edge of the bathtub. He looked down at you with adoration in his eyes
"You're just perfect, aren't you, sweetheart?" He said, and Simon and Gaz were agreeing with him before the sentence even registered in your head. You smiled at him. He smiled back. "Our perfect girl, hm?"
•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•
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Text
Shameless porn of my Tav and Halsin some undisclosed amount of time after the end of the game.
Afab Tav getting a taste of Halsin’s rare dominant side and learning what happens to druids who spend too much time in wildshape
Just under 2k words
(I am a lazy human who writes fic in the notes app of their phone, please excuse dumb mistakes and minimal editing at times)
—————-
The first traces of dawn slip through the window as you were roused from your meditation. You feel Halsin’s hand glide down your side and come to a rest on your hip before pulling your hips firmly back into his.
While Halsin was always fairly forward about sex, the past few days especially had been something. It was not uncommon for one of you to approach the other just about everyday over it, but this was borderline excessive even for him.
Your thighs ached from straddling him many times the last couple days, or from wrapping them around his hips as he fucked you against the wall. It was not really a complaint, nor something you cared to stop, but it was an unexplained change in Halsin.
Even early in the morning, just after meditating, he was ready to go again.
“My heart” he sighs in you ear, “how is it possible that I want you more every day? Every time I lay eyes on you, you’re more beautiful than I remember. It overcomes me and I just need to hear you, taste you, experience you”.
You feel his erection pressing on your backside as he slowly grinds against you. His hand that rested on you hip sliding down to now sit just under your belly button, waiting on an invitation to move lower.
“My heart, how are you not tired or sore?” you ask, half joking and half truly wondering where this drive suddenly came from.
~
It started three days ago. While bending down to put away a few things in the kitchen in a low cabinet he swept up behind you, grabbing your hips with such force he nearly yanked you off your feet. “Such gorgeous hips” he murmured in your ear, his massive torso bent over yours, dwarfing you entirely “I need you. Now” he growled in your ear.
It was more worked up then you had ever seen him, his whole body heaved with every breath and word and his hands dug into your hips with clear intent.
“Then take me” you replied.
Halsin did not waste a moment. He swiftly hooked a finger into the waist of your pants and pulled them along with your underwear down in one fluid motion. One rough hand immediately slipped down your front between your legs to find your clit and begin rubbing it while the other found your breast. You felt the tip of his shaft seeking entrance to you and you rose to your tip toes to make it easier. He quickly found the entry he craved and sank his full length into you, causing you to bite back a yelp. Halsin was large in every aspect of his being, from his physical size, to his personality, to his emotions, to his cock and right now without any sort of warmup you were especially reminded of that.
This was much rougher than his usual self. Halsin usually preferred things on the firmer side, as did you, neither of you were exactly fragile and pushing limits had its fun, but this was something else all together. From the beginning his pace was brisk, a sort desperation to his movements as if he felt like he was going to explode if he did not have you right then and there. And you and never been so aroused.
You let out a moan as you relaxed and adjusted to him, letting do as he wished and enjoying his sudden forwardness. The moan seemed to spur him on, pushing him to thrust even deeper now that you had relaxed enough to fully accept his length and it felt incredible.
“Gods you feel so good, fuck” you moaned and swore he felt larger than previous times.
Halsin was very much a man of give and take, of slow methodical pleasure. This however, was more base, almost instinctual feeling in comparison.
His breath was heavy in you ear, a strong departure from his usual verbosity. Where he typically sung your praises instead you were met with growls and panting.
You were shoved into the cabinet over the course of his thrusting, the edge of the counter digging into your hips, Halsin’s torso flush against your back was keeping you pinned against the furniture, preventing you from moving, not that you wanted to be anywhere else. He kept his pace steady as he rubbed your clit and his teeth found the side of your neck, biting harder than he normally did, his nails dug into your breast where his hand was pinned between you and the counter.
Breathing was difficult from his weight pressing down on you, but it only seemed to intensify everything. Your breath came in shallow gasps as you felt yourself getting close, every stroke filling you fully and pushing you to the edge. A wordless whine crept into your voice mixed with short gasps, you did not know how much more you could take, but you wanted this to last as long as possible.
This directness from him, the lust, the dominance, it was such a different side of him. Before Halsin, you had been the dominant one in all your encounters, then with Halsin while you swapped who was in the lead you would not say either of you was truly dominant. This though? This reminded you of an animal in heat; intense, rough, not just a want but a visceral need driven by something subconscious. Being desired so carnally, at such a base level lit a fire in your belly in a way few other things ever had.
Your finish washed over you, an intense buzz that started between your legs and dispersed through every inch of your body. You howled and panted his name like you never had before.
Halsin continued his relentless pace and pulled you closer to him even. His breathing was ragged and hot on you neck and you were suddenly acutely aware of how small you felt compared to him as you basked in the afterglow and tried to catch your breath.
“Fuck me full” you told him, “make me feel every last drop”.
This seemed to put him over the edge, he pumped into you hard, nearly enough to knock the breath out of you and moaned loudly.
You did feel it, every drop flooding into you and dripping down your leg, every twitch of his cock as he met his release. Halsin remained in you, gasping for air and coming back down to the ground.
Air flooded your lungs as he leaned his weight off you and his kisses peppered your back and shoulders. You straightened yourself out and assessed the state you were in: bruises marked your hips where you were bent over the counter, nail marks dug into your breast, and you were certain you had bite marks on your neck. Not that any of it mattered, you loved seeing his marks on your body.
“I’m not complaining, but that was… intense” you broke the silence.
“I’m sorry my love, I just needed you so badly” he wrapped his arms around you and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.
“Oh don’t apologize, it was incredible. I didn’t know you ever got like that. You were so dominant, so, I don’t know? Instinctual? I don’t know if that’s the right word but I have never been so turned on”.
“Oh!” He said in surprise, “well, in that case, I can definitely promise you more”.
~
Over the next 3 days it continued much the same. Any time you bent over, or showed much skin, or really did much of anything there was Halsin, begging you to let him fuck you. Every ask was tinged with heavy desperation and lust previously unknown to you, and the moment you let him it was a torrid of rough sex in the first position he could get you in.
You lay there now in bed, naked with his cock pressed against your backside. Your legs are sore, your back is sore, every bit of you inside and out is on the verge of raw.
“My love, my heart, I am loving all of this but I concede, I can’t keep up. What’s come over you?” you ask.
“Come over me? No this is pretty normal for now” he answers.
“Normal? For now?” you ask again.
“Yes, this time of year is typically mating season for bears” he said matter of factly, as if that was all the explanation that was needed.
“You aren’t a bear”.
“No, but you spend enough time as one and the instincts start to stick around afterwards”.
At this point you could not tell if he was serious or not. The whole thing was so matter of fact, but you had never heard anything about wildshape affecting a Druid like that.
You took a deep breath to gather your thoughts before beginning “Alright, so, right now you-“
“Want to fuck you against every surface in this house and surrounding forest until my scent covers every inch of you and you’re carrying our child. If you’ll let me”.
“And you remember that that’s not possible right? Even long before I met you I’ve been too stabbed and banged up to ever be able to carry a child. Something I’ve told you and that you said that you were alright with”.
“I’m aware, but instinct is instinct and I’m more that happy to try. Especially if that means we’ll just try forever”.
That answer satisfied you.
“I can be happy with that. But one last thing my love”.
“Anything. Say the word and there’s no length I wouldn’t go to fulfill your wish”.
“Find some positions that don’t hurt my thighs so much. Because if you pin me to the wall again there’s no way my legs are going to hold out”.
Halsin let out a deep laugh, a true and joyous laugh. “My love! I wished you had said something sooner! My thinking isn’t the clearest right now but if I had known-“ out of the corner of your eye you saw the gentle warm glow of healing magic as the hand that had been resting just under your bellybutton moved to your sore legs, “I would have helped with that”.
Much of the soreness and ache recedes as the soft glow fades.
“Actually one more thing, there’s been a few times I’ve been a little raw- uh- inside from all of this. Is there anything that can be done…?” you trail off.
“Yes! There are a few things I can make, perhaps a salve that provides some extra lubrication and maybe something a bit cooling feeling? I could do that, would that work?”
“I think so, and I’d be more than happy to try at any rate”
You feel him press your hips back against his and the throb of his still erect cock on your skin.
“Out of bed. Now. Salve first, trying to breed me after”.
Halsin sighs, not like he could complain about anything. He stumbles a bit as he attempts to pull his pants on, any attempt at salve making would require getting ingredients from the forest and town, and one of those requires pants.
“And love!” you call as he walks out the door, “If that salve works and you keep me from being so sore I’ll start wearing a shorter dress around the house with no panties, or maybe just nothing at all. I’ll give you blanket permission for the season to fuck me whenever you want, like nature intended”.
You had never seen Halsin move so fast to go get the shopping done.
470 notes · View notes
ghost-proofbaby · 2 months
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15 with Eddie? :)
i woke up this morning, rolled over, and immediately wrote this all on my phone. wasn't even 8 am and i was already all mushy and horny for this man. enjoy whatever this is (morning sex. it's morning sex and being in love) &lt;3
15. "I had a very nice dream that started like this."
warnings: smut, p in v, oral (f receiving), afab reader but no pronouns used, a lot of religious imagery idk why it just... worked?, not edited, 18+ so minors do not interact
pairings: eddie munson x afab!reader
wc: 2.9k+
join the smutty party! send me one of these smut dialogue prompts with a character
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The sun hadn’t even rose yet. The sky simply lighter, a gentle omniscient light peaking through the curtains, holding little to no warmth yet when you first awoke. The room is shades of grey with hints of violet, soft pinks just on the horizon but not quite painting the scene. 
It’s nice — it’s serene.
You can feel him breathing behind you. Still there, still warm, still holding you with one strong arm around your waist as his nose brushes at the nape of your neck, his snore rustling your hair ever so carefully. It’s almost enough to soothe you back to sleep; counting his deep intakes of air, exhaling in time with him, sinking deeper into bed sheets that are stained with the smell of his cologne and shampoo. Almost.
But when you first awake, you have a different idea in mind.
It starts off innocent enough. Small movements as you press yourself further back into Eddie, minuscule wiggles to just be close to him. You’re still half asleep and yet, every atom in your body is desperate to melt into him. You need every inch of his skin pressed tightly into yours. Your vision still blurry, but the instinct to burrow more tightly into your boy impossible to miss.
“I know you’re awake,” he suddenly murmurs into your neck, voice muffled and rough with his rest.
You hadn’t even noticed the change in his breathing. More focused on the ache between your thighs that you had woken up with. 
“Sh,” you jokingly whisper, smiling as you force your eyes back closed. He can’t even see your face, but it feels right to put on an act, “You’re gonna ruin it, Munson.” 
“‘M not ruining anything, baby,” he nearly slurs. His arm tightens around you, encouraging all your squirming, pulling your hips back to be flush with his a little more urgently.
He’s hard against your lower back. His flimsy boxers do nothing to hide his excitement. It isn’t particularly surprising — most mornings he wakes up hard as it is — but it does cause a soft stirring within you. Encourages your hips to swivel once more, action a bit more pointed, just enough pressure to cause a low groan to slip almost inaudible from between his lips.
“Careful,” he warns, voice a bit louder now. His tone is still gravely, scratching an itch of the farthest reaches of your mind. Somewhere between a cat’s purr and the sound of tires on dirt roads when your favorite person is returning home. Comforting. Serene. 
You press into him further, shamelessly grinding now, eyes still shut, “What? ‘M not doing anything.”
He doesn’t need to see your voice to hear that sleepy grin.
It doesn’t happen quickly — there’s no rush as he slowly tugs at your body, encouraging you to rotate so that he’s no longer spooning you. Your back digs into the mattress holding the warmth of his body from the entire night, wrapping you up in a bliss that’s impossible to replicate. His smell, his warmth, his presence. You don’t think you’ll ever tire of mornings like this, especially not when you finally open your eyes to find him propped up on his elbow, looking down at you with half-lidded eyes and a half-smile that accentuates  his left dimple. 
He’s fucking beautiful. It takes your breath away.
“What’s got you so excited this morning, hm?” 
The light has grown ever so slightly brighter, just enough as though it whispers, look at him. The room is still grey, but your boy is a vision of colors. Dark russet eyes with streaks of gold that the sun couldn’t compare to, chestnut hair that sticks up in all the wrong places from his slumber, skin that washes out in the pale winter morning and only makes the contrast of the soft fuchsias and violets blooming along his neck from the evening before more apparent. He’s softer than any sunrise, more relaxing than any bath he’s ever drawn for you, more calming than hearing your favorite song strummed out on muted guitar strings. 
You love him. And that only really fuels your flames.
“I had a very nice dream,” you mumble, squinting up at him, bringing a hand up to his cheek. Your touch is delicate as you trace over his stubble, painting mindless patterns briefly before cupping the full side of his face and threading your fingertips into the edges of his hairline, “A very nice dream that started just like this.” 
He rolls his hips against your side, peering down at you as he does so, letting you guide him closer until his lips barely brush yours. 
You can hear birds chirping outside. There’s the rumble of a truck engine. The creak of a nearby front door opening and shutting.
The world is beginning to wake up, but you’re not quite yet ready to share the day with anyone but him. 
“You did, did you?” he’s awake enough now to tease you, body slowly inching its way over yours, arms on either side of your head to hold his weight. The plush comforter slips down, exposing his bare shoulders as his torso serves as your new blanket, “Tell me ‘bout it, baby.” 
Your legs fall open instinctively, making a home for him and only him. A space between your thighs perfectly carved out for the shape and weight of him as he slips into place, hips digging into yours, a homely and familiar position you’ve found yourself in a hundred times before. 
It never gets old. It never elicits any less of a reaction from you, always pulling the softest of gasps from your throat as he leans his head down to trail his lips down your exposed neck. 
The sound has him pulling you into him a bit more urgently, but his pace never quickens. He’s taking his time. You two have all the time.
A car alarm, distant as could be, sounds off. A voice of a neighbor echos across the trailer park. 
Maybe it’s an adoring husband wishing goodbye to his wife for the day. Or a mother, rushing her children for school. There’s a million and one scenarios, thousands of strangers beginning their dreary week, but you only care about the warm welcome of the day that he offers you. 
Anything but dreary, even in tired morning light.
“You were kissing my neck,” you say, careful to be as silent as can be, even if it were just the two of you in the room. The world doesn’t need to know you’re awake yet; it doesn’t deserve your attention like he does yet.
His teeth graze unintentionally against the soft spot below your ear, “Like this?”
“Just like that.”
For emphasis, you lift your hips, seeking out his with ease. You can feel him, pronounced as he presses against the thin fabric of your underwear. There’s too many layers between the two of you, too much cotton and linen in the shapes of his t-shirt you’d worn to bed and his damn boxers, but they’ll come off eventually. 
Eventually. There’s no rush.
Your head tilts back in a sigh, and he pauses all his kisses to ask, “What next?”
“Keep going,” you squirm, hips continuing to roll, flames of desire lighting in your gut, dancing as soft as the morning light, “Keep going, please.” 
The night before, he would have teased your desperation. 
But right now, with just you and him and the ghost of sleep, he’s not in the business of taunting. 
He listens, a hand coming down to your hip. Not holding it down to the mattress, but simply holding. He lets his thumb slip beneath the t-shirt, lets a rough callous built up from years of guitar and working on his van brush roughly over your skin with the most sensitive of intentions. 
Slowly. If the morning wasn’t so heavy still on the two of you, weighing down every movement, slowing every reaction and pacing every adoring kiss, this is the part where the two of you might have grown a bit impatient. More nipping, more bruising gripping, more complaints of going further, further, further. 
But today? In this moment? The two of you have time. 
A dream sequence of his wandering hands slipping that old faded tee up until it’s finally bunched at your chest, until he’s finally peeling himself away from your body and he’s lifting it over your head. Every move is brimming with a love you never thought possible. A love to swim in, a love to sink into. One with the capability to drown the two of you, but it only breathes a new life into both of your lungs. 
When his lips wrap around a nipple and your back arches, that love thrums a bit deeper, coiling up your insides and urging your fingers to tangle up into his curls. 
You need him closer.
“So beautiful,” he whispers against your skin as he mouths at it, “So, so fucking beautiful.” 
The back of your skull digs deeper into a pillow engrained with the shape of your head from years of rest, a soft laugh slipping in between your blissful breaths, “Don’t lie. I’m a mess right now.” 
You were. And so was he. In a barely awake, subtle and tired way. Messy hair, messy marks of sleep across cheeks, messy breaths not yet minty from a morning routine the two of you followed like a religion. 
His head lifts, eyes glowing in the limited light, “I like your mess. As a matter of fact, I love your mess.” 
His hand on your hip squeezes for emphasis. 
You look down, wordless as you drink him in. A vision between the pinks dancing through the curtains, a godly presence as the dawn breaks. He’s a salvation, a new beginning and a new ending. He’s everything fairytales had tried to convince you existed in your youth. Prettier than any angel, warmer than any sun. 
And he’s yours. In this moment, and in all the next ones.
“I think I can make an even bigger mess of you, though, if you’ll let me,” a devilish smile finally overtakes his features and both of those dimples you’ve become so unintentionally fond of make an appearance. 
He dips his head, lowers his voice, lets his lips explore. You nearly pray to the Heavens above as you feel his hand slip from its gentle cupping of your hip, moving to slip nimble fingers beneath the band of your panties — but you don’t. Not a single God would care about what’s happening right now.
Just two people, two souls, twisting up in their bed sheets. Finding each other, finding divinity, before the sun even has a chance to stretch its arms fully over the horizon.
When he sinks lower and his face disappears beneath the cloak of the comforter, you hold your breath. When his mouth finds your cunt over fabric, you release it with a moan.
“That’s it, baby,” he encourages, both hands pulling off your underwear, pressing a hard kiss one final time over the cotton before he slips them off, “Keep making those pretty noises for me.” 
Your thighs drape over his shoulders, heels digging into his back as he begins his morning worship. All lips and tongue and finding the right places as fast as possible. Not out of a rush, but out of practice. He knows your body like the back of his hand, and he proves it. 
He knows exactly how hard to suck on your clit once he’s captured it between his lips. He knows exactly where to trace his tongue, circling your hole in lazy circles, not quite teasing but not quite succumbing as he lets you buck your hips in reckless abandon. When to speed up, when to slow down, when to add a finger and when to let the gravel of his voice vibrate against your core — he knows you. Through every little whimper, through every soft chanting of his name, through every tug of his hair. 
And he knows you well enough to know when to stop his ministrations, pulling back only to crawl his way back up your body, his boxers slipping off somewhere in the process. 
You’re still all over his lips as he kisses you fervently, slick and sticky and a little tart as his tongue dives into your mouth.
And just as he knows you, you know him.
You’d lied, of course. You hadn’t really had a dream just like this. You can’t even remember how you’d awoken with such want, but all that mattered is you had. You’d woken up to an all-consuming need, even if your half-conscious state, and you’d woken up to him.
Your hand reaches down between the two of you, wrapping around him carefully. Your skin is still cooler than his, it’s always cooler than his in the dead of night, and he hisses at the content.
“I love you, you know?” you quietly confess to your lover, as though it might be a sin, as though it might be the greatest secret to ever be held on a patient tongue. 
His skin is nearly velvet under your touch, pliant in your palm as you stroke him. Each movement and twist of your wrist begins to unravel him, his head dropping to the juncture between your shoulder and your neck. Every pant of his breath brushes skin just as his snores had. 
Gold litters the shade of sunrise entering the room, but the only warm colors you care to entertain are the ones in his eyes as he finally looks at you and tugs your hand away.
“I love you more.” 
You could argue. You could fight him on it, start to rattle off your list of all the things you adore about him, prove that no one has ever loved another person in this lifetime the way that you’ve loved him. The freckle below his right eye, the chip in on of his canines from an accident in his youth, the scar on his left knuckles from the first time he’d tried to do a trick with a butterfly knife at nine years old. The jokes he interrupts your day so kindly with, breaking up the mundane with laughter that seemingly fuels you to carry on with your time until you’ve returned home to just him. The passion that flows inside of him until it pours out over everything sacred to him — his music, his interests, his friends, you. A passionate and devoted man, yours to have and yours to hold.
But you don’t argue the point. You just smile as he kisses you, deep and searching, as he lines himself up with your entrance.
He loves you more, you love him most. He’ll figure it out — eventually. 
The stretch of him is pleasurable, just like it always is. Filling you, warming you, making that closer you crave so ardently nearly tangible. Every roll of his hips has him reaching spots inside of you to elicit stars to cloud your vision. The morning light, the white hot pleasure — you don’t care what makes your vision blue. You only care that it does, all your mews and all his groans entangling up in the air. 
Your palms slide over the back of his shoulders, your fingers dig into soft skin that you’ll spend the rest of your days memorizing.
Eddie. Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.
No prayer has ever been repeated with such need or belief as his name from your lips. 
And he returns the favor. Gasping out your name, somehow finding himself just enough in his right mind to continue to whisper sweet nothings against your ear, timing them with his leisurely thrusts.
“So fucking tight and so fucking good to me,” he manages to gasp, digging his hips in a little harsher, “Could stay here forever. Kind of want to stay here forever.” 
You don’t know how he’s coherent; you can’t form a single response, eyes rolling, hands clinging to him tighter. 
“Look at me when you cum.” 
He knows you. He knows you very well. You hadn’t even noticed that coiling in your stomach or the fluttering of your walls when he calls you out, forehead pressing to yours as your eyes open to find his. 
It’s not world-shattering when the waves come — it doesn’t have to be. It’s something to wrap around your entire essence, something to soothe and something to coax you into oblivion. Something to get lost in as his movements stutter and his own eyes grow heavy.
He doesn’t close his eyes, and neither do you. Lost in that pleasure, and lost in each other. 
You’re still rhythmically clenching around him when he comes, filling you up with warmth, burying deep in you and holding there as his mouth falls open and you're quick to pepper his outstretched neck with kisses. The smallest reminders of all the love you have for him. The gentlest of devotions, sprinkled across the skin of a man who will always know an affection like no other. Not everyone in the world will be so lucky as to know the fondness you offer him, and as far as you’re concerned, that’s how it should be. 
Curses spill as his movements slow, before finally stilling. He drops his weight onto you, exhaustion finding its way back into his bones. 
There’s things to do, a day to begin. Work and people waiting on you two, responsibilities to worry about and daily mundane accomplishments to achieve. But for now, it’s just the two of you. Awake with the rest of the world, but completely separate as you cradle him and he holds you. 
“That was one Hell of a way to wake up, sweetheart,” he murmurs into your skin, and you only throw your head back in a laugh.
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643 notes · View notes
madschiavelique · 9 months
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miguel has this habit - when he is stressed, he starts rutting and humping his clothed dick against you (just friction, no cumming). and since he has to put up with everyone’s shit - that happens a lot throughout the day. it’s like his brain shuts off for a few minutes and he is doing it on autopilot - no thoughts head empty ✌🏻😸 just the warm feeling of his best girl under his touch being there for him, and it’s enough to calm miguel down for a while. you’re quite used to it, and you don’t mind his brainless activity since it’s rather helpful for him and for you - you don’t need to do too much expect to hold your ground - once he thrusted so suddenly and strong it knocked you down 😅 (he felt really guilty after that). silly silly man
one day he was under so much stress that his crotch was basically glued to you. you felt bad for him - to see him so frustrated. but you felt bad for yourself too - his constant humping made your panties dripping wet and you couldn’t actually do anything about it while being at work. so when you two returned home, you finally could punish him for making you horny for all day in a best way possible - fucking him dumb until he can’t coherently respond to you 💅
i am SALIVATING anon dayummm
summary : miguel humps you when he's stressed (not proofread)
content warnings : SMUT (18+) minors dni, dry humping, pnv sex - unprotected sex (be safe kids), fem!reader, no use of Y/N word count : 1,4k
tag list : @fandom-ash
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It had become a ritual. As soon as the situation became too stressful, as soon as everything in his head became so hectic that his mind sizzled and his skin tingled, he would come to you to hump on you. It was automatic, he needed to get rid of all the stress and unpleasant sensations in one way. This helped him to decompress, to simply concentrate on his desires, on your body and its warmth to get away from work pressure.
You'd always find a way to get alone and he'd hump you, desperately, rubbing against you and letting the frictional sensations electrify and stabilise everything around him that was preventing him from keeping his mind straight.
He could hump your thigh, against your fingers as you encouraged him and kissed the side of his neck, and sometimes against your clothed cunt. It wasn't always easy, letting him do that for a few moments and then having to go back to work when he was calm again and you were left turned on.
And today, it was a particularly painful sensation as your desire grew. Miguel was taking you aside easily every hour, humping against your ass, almost fucking your hands, rubbing desperately against your cunt.
Your body was becoming more sensitive by the hour, and every time Miguel came to you with that apologetic look on his face, you knew you were going to be tempted and doubly aroused.
He'd come back to hump your covered pussy, and the longer the hours went on, the more painful your arousal became. Your clit was throbbing, your body all hot, and that cloud spreading and tightening in your lower belly kept intensifying as soon as you had those little private moments.
You knew that, if he continued for even a few minutes longer in those moments, you wouldn't be able to stand it any longer and might come.
You wanted so desperately to just take off your bottoms and panties while he stripped off his clothes so that you could feel him inside you, all warm and tight.
But he always left before either of you could taste the completion of your two shared pleasures. He would go away, and you would follow him to continue his work. You sat next to him and tried to rub your thighs to feel a little friction, something that would hopefully satisfy you even a little without being able to literally go do something about it yourself.
Miguel wouldn't let you move away from him, wanting to make sure that if the urge arose again you'd be by his side. Today he was afraid that if you weren't there just in case, he wouldn't be able to control himself, and he hated that: the lack of control.
So you suffered in silence, and he did the same. It was almost unbearable, like shaking a champagne bottle from time to time, the bubbles building up and ready to implode, but never being opened.
The power with which you led him into his quarters once the work was done was exceptional. You made sure the quarters were locked, and led him to your bed.
You kissed him with such appetite that he took a step backwards, soon coming back to feed on your lips. You pushed him down onto the mattress, straddling him as you humped him this time, almost aggressively.
The friction that your cunt and his cock were looking for had become necessary, sending little sparks of desire into both your bellies that would ignite a hungry fire.
You began to take off your costume, Miguel helping you with the task as his was depixelating. Your underwear was completely wet, proof of the excitement that had lasted you a whole day.
"Already so wet for me," he breathed between two pecks, humming as he came to kiss you harder.
Both your sexes were now finally naked, and a moan escaped from between your lips as you placed your cunt on him. His warmth against yours was a sensation you had been seeking all day.
You let yourself slide from the base of his dick to his tip, wanting to smear a little of your desire on his skin.
He let out grunts of desire, gripping your hips to make you move faster against him. You clit rubbed like that made you feel like your entire body was connected to one single place, and you finally understood the anticipation that Miguel could have on stressful days.
You understood all those sensations, those desires to have more without ever being able to satisfy yourself or let yourself have a climax for good, but now you were going to satisfy them.
"I'm going to take care of you now," you whispered as you held his dick underneath you, lining it to your entrance.
Without waiting for any response from him, you impaled yourself on him, both your mouths overflowing with moans.
At last you felt your walls closing in on him and not on empty space. You were so wet from all this previous unvoluntary teasing that you almost slid around him effortlessly, sinking down until your clit was in contact with the skin of his lower belly.
A drunken little smile graced your lips as you began to undulate your hips, the friction and sensations you'd so long sought finally present. Your pelvis was acting on its own, rolling back and forth like waves crashing on the sand as you watched Miguel's eyes close of pleasure.
He was guiding your thighs, grunts finally coming out loud and clear of his throat. He'd spent his whole day just grinding, and the setting prevented him from being even a little too vocal.
"Gosh you feel so good," he breathed in absolute adoration.
You kissed his lips and the crook of his neck, panting softly before nibbling and tracing his sensitive spots with your tongue. The poor guy deserved all this after the day he'd had.
And all the frustration he'd built up pushed him over the edge. Miguel didn't take long to come, the sudden sensation of your warm walls enveloping him at last driving him to climax.
His hips were jerking, single powerful thrust pushing into your cunt as he came while you were consciously clenching your walls to make him enjoy it even more.
You lowered yourself and kissed him, his cock still twitching deep inside you, and you continued to undulate your pelvis against his. You deserved to keep going, he'd made a wet humping mess of you in turn, and you earned your satisfaction.
"I'm not done with you," you breathed, carrying on riding him.
You arched your back as you moved forward, and rounded your pelvis as you moved back, his dick filling you in all the right places as he made you breath out soft moans.
He looked at you almost bestially, his eyes tinged a carmine colour.
You were a goddess, a true miracle before his eyes, your gaze planted in his as he watched you, running his tongue over his fangs.
He straightened up, coming to sit as you continued to undulate your pelvis. He put his hand on your hips to guide you against him, kissing your breasts lovingly, your chest, his hair completely dishevelled.
All day you'd had this storm brewing in your stomach, with the winds blowing stronger and thunder rumbling in the distance angry of this impossibility for pleasure.
He brought his hand down between your two bodies, gently touching your clit and starting to make circular movements around it while he kissed your shoulder.
"You're so good for me, nena." he sighed against your hot skin.
The moans that came from within you were full of desire, the electrifying sensation of his fingers on your flesh making you see stars as you finally reached the point of orgasm.
The storm crashed into full force, your whole body vibrating as a powerful moan rocked your lips, Miguel grunting as your walls closed around him with intensity.
He watched you, cheek resting on your chest as you came down from all the sensations, his eyes riveted on your drunken expression of pleasure.
But you needed more, your hips starting to move again soon after, an almost pleading sigh escaping Miguel's lips as he nestled his head in your shoulder. It was going to be a long night, much to your delight.
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leejihoonownsmyheart · 9 months
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Tattoo (M)
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Happy Cheol day- I’m still not actually here 🫡
Summary:
Your ridiculously hot coworker gets a new tattoo
Please god have mercy and do not let any of my coworkers find out I wrote this because it is based in reality but I swear to god I am not actually attracted to Devon he just has the coolest fucking tattoo and I don’t care if Seungcheol isn’t a weeb I needed him to be for two seconds
I’m not joking I should be fired for writing this. Not only because I literally based it off of my coworker but also because I fucking spelled out our rule system and abused the punishment system. If my coworkers read this? Got to the points part. Jesus christ I really would be fired.
Tags: Inked!Cheol, coworkers au, y/n refers to Cheol a lot as a loser but is he?, 7.9k
Warnings: Dubious consent, impact play, omg dacryphilia?? Did I finally join the ranks?, y/n is a brat (can’t relate), lots of swearing like all y/n does is swear, kinda dom!Cheol, hint of jealousy, no protection, creampie, blowjob, cunnilingus, fingering
-
The first thing that you noticed about Choi Seungcheol Thursday at work was his fucking tattoo.
Jesus christ, you had been so strong when it came to him. Fighting every single day not to be into the fucking man.
If you were honest, really fucking honest, you would be able to say that you had been into Seungcheol since day one. Since he had walked up to you a little bit more comfortably than everyone else. Since you two had been introduced on the day of his orientation because Riley thought you two would get along.
She was right, how had she been right? How could she have possibly known simply from his interview that you two would get along? Because she had. You remembered her walking up to you after his interview, as one of the most attractive men you had ever seen was walking out the door, and she said, “You are going to love Choi Seungcheol if he starts working here.”
But regardless of that. Despite the fact that your fate had been drawn out for you like the pages of a coloring book you had remained in denial. Fighting not to find him attractive, because his silly little anime interest had left your coworker Jordan reminding you that you weren’t exactly his type one day when he had spent a straight hour with you giving you advice on working out and literally inviting you to the gym with him.
A Thursday was not the day that you should come into work and see the hints of a freshly drawn tattoo peeking out from underneath your coworker's shirt. And at 3:00pm stuck on register with said coworker you shouldn’t be taking sneaky glances at his arms, trying to see the tattoo better. And for goodness sake the first thirty minutes of your shift when you had wandered close enough to him that you could see the Aquaphor shining on his bicep was too fucking early to have these fucking feelings.
Being turned on at work was a literal fucking sin but that tattoo was the coolest fucking thing you had ever seen in your life.
“Have you noticed anything different about me?” Seungcheol asked, his eyebrows raising excitedly as the guest near him wandered away from the counter. You willed yourself to remain casual as a small smile crossed your lips.
“You got a new tattoo,” you said softly, playing right into his hands. He smiled, that characteristic one you were so used to seeing on his face when he was so excited about something that he just couldn’t keep it to himself. You loved the way he seemed to literally buzz with energy about things like this. Lived for the fact that he was so unashamed to love something so much.
“So, you did notice,” he said pleasantly. He turned his body a little to show you his arm, but most of the tattoo was hidden under the sleeve of his shirt. You could only see the edge of lightning bolts, but you suspected that the tattoo went further up his arm. Maybe onto his shoulder.
Fuck, you so desperately needed to see where that tattoo led.
You had seen Seungcheol shirtless before, and if you were completely honest? He literally looked like he was sculpted by a god. You knew that it was because he put a lot of work into his time at the gym, and that his dedication was unmatched but despite that it had still confused all of your coworkers.
Seungcheol looked so scrawny in his work uniform! Everyone had been surprised when Nicki hissed: “Have you seen the pictures of Seungcheol on his instagram?” And then you had seen the images of him and he looked like a literal adonis.
“Do you want to know how much it cost?” Seungcheol asked you and for once that smile was doing way too fucking much for you. You really, really needed to look away from him. You instead, squinted at the lines on his arm.
“Hmm.”
“Oh, you should guess,” Seungcheol said, running off of your curiosity. You pressed your lips together, mind going to the tattoo your friend had gotten on her arm. A star, some words, 75$.
“Uh...” Your mind was trying to gauge how long the tattoo was. It wasn’t very thick, the lines were admittedly detailed but couldn’t have been that much more expensive...
But then again it was long. All around the expanse of his arm.
“200,” you murmured. Seungcheol’s lips flitted up.
“Higher.”
Your eyebrows furrowed.
“300?”
“Higher.”
“No way,” you said with a laugh. “400?”
He only smiled harder. You sucked in a gasp, shaking your head.
“There’s no way it’s more than 400,” you insisted. He laughed too.
“500.”
“500,” you gasped. “That’s crazy.”
“It’s not my most expensive.” You felt like your eyes bulged at his words, and you didn’t even have to express your surprise. “One of mine was only 250, but the other one was 1000... That one I was overcharged for.”
Your mind was racing to account for this new information. 1000 dollars for a tattoo? You had forgotten just how expensive tattoos were.
Your attention strayed back to Seungcheol’s tattoo and you swallowed hard, still itching to see where it reached. You shook the thoughts out of your head when a: “Hi welcome in.” rang through the store signaling that a guest had walked in.
You tried to shake thoughts of Seungcheol and his tattoo out of your head by busying yourself with your work. Luckily for you, today Seungcheol was working basically in a completely different area than you so there wasn’t much to be distracted by.
Regardless, of that, when you went to the office to get a drink and Seungcheol was standing just outside of it cleaning something your attention caught Seungcheol’s tattoo again.
You noticed that there was a thicker part of the tattoo that you hadn’t noticed yet. Your eyes narrowed.
“Hey... What’s that?”
Seungcheol instantly knew what you were talking about. He hummed glancing at his arm as if he could see it himself, even though you knew it was out of his eyesight.
“That’s one of my other tattoo’s,” he replied. “It’s an anime tattoo. Can you guess what anime?”
Your mind ran through shows that you knew.
“Is it a mainstream one?” You asked him. “Old?”
Seungcheol hummed and nodded, his smile growing over his lips again.
“Is it Naruto?” You asked. You didn’t know why you thought that you could see the rest of the tattoo in your mind when you had never actually seen it, but you couldn’t help but think it was a signa.
“No,” he replied his voice riddled in amusement.
“Uhm, One Piece?”
Another shake of his head and you felt your face starting to warm as you tried to picture his tattoo in your mind. You ducked into the office, your mind still racing. You picked up your cup and when you turned down Seungcheol was standing just outside of the office so that you could see him. Your escape plan completely evaporating with only a few steps from him.
“Is it My Hero?”
“No,” Seungcheol said. “I’ll give you a hint. The person’s powers have to do with lightning.”
You thought for sure that had to be My Hero, but you also knew that Seungcheol had no reason to lie to you over that. You stared at Seungcheol, letting your confusion show on your face.
“You don’t know?” He asked, and to be fair he did sound genuinely surprised. You shook your head, pulling your cup closer to your chest. Honestly feeling a bit embarrassed (shy?) that you didn’t know the anime he was talking about.
“It’s Hunter x Hunter,” he explained.
You honestly did feel stupid. Hunter x Hunter had flicked in and out of your mind so fast it hadn’t really been a consideration.
“Oh,” you breathed.
“You’ve never seen Hunter x Hunter?”
A smile was painted over your lips and you shook your head quietly. You turned your body away from Seungcheol slightly so that you could drink your drink without feeling too self-conscious. But Seungcheol was persistent, he peaked around your body a little.
“I’m surprised. It’s after one of the characters. He has lightning powers.”
You gave Seungcheol another pressed smile, giving up on drinking your drink without him looking at you.
“It really is such a cool tattoo,” you said softly. You put your cup down and shot him one last smile before rushing back up to the front.
You were lucky that day really. He left early that day, and without his presence you were able to mostly move past thoughts of Seungcheol and his tattoo... Stupid attractive Seungcheol with his stupid perfect face and his biceps that you had never thought of before but now were the only thing on your mind-
Cold shower. You couldn’t bring yourself to touch yourself to thoughts of Seungcheol. Not your coworker Choi Seungcheol. Not your friend. Not the dorky guy from work that everyone loved. No, instead you opted for a very, very cold shower and an abnormally early bedtime.
You were naïve, really. Thinking that a ten o’clock bedtime would be enough to get you over your sudden infatuation with Seungcheol... (And that tattoo. That damned tattoo that made you see him as more than just some guy you worked with).
“Your total is 10.69...”
You weren’t an idiot. The man at the counter in front of you had been taking sneaky glances towards you the entire time that you two had been interacting. You knew that he was flirting with you... And to be completely honest you were very aware of the fact that you were flirting back.
You had no regrets really. He was attractive. Ridiculously so, and you couldn’t help but preen under the attention of someone so pretty.
“You’ve got to tell me what you’re doing after this,” the boy drawled. “The weather is supposed to be perfect.”
You hummed, eyes flickering up from his card as the machine beeped at him to pull it out.
“I don’t have any plans,” you replied, your voice light. Playing to the fact that you knew he liked you. Playing to the fact that you knew he wanted you to flirt back. If not for the purpose of actually asking you out at least for the purpose of the thrill.
“Someone as pretty as you?” He asked, and he leaned forward, body slightly bent over the counter. “All alone for the weekend? And I’m supposed to just let that slide?”
You could feel someone staring at you and you honestly just thought that it was a coworker who had just walked in for their shift. You ignored it.
“What would someone like you do?” You asked, eyebrow quirking up ever-so-slightly. “Surely, you have plans for the weekend.”
The gaze on your neck didn’t disappear, so you took a quick glance behind you.
Your eyes caught Seungcheol’s.
Your gaze widened a bit and you quickly turned your attention back to the person in front of you. You tried your best to regain your composure, but suddenly you felt guilty. Like you shouldn’t be talking to the person in front of you like this.
“Maybe I do,” he said. “Maybe you could too.”
You could feel Seungcheol’s presence over your shoulder, and you suddenly felt the urge to turn away from the guy in front of you.
“I...” You weren’t holey sure how to get out of this situation. “I hope you have a good day.”
That teasing smile was still on the strangers lips, he was clearly liking the act you were putting on. He nodded slightly.
“You too.”
The minute the man was out of earshot, you tried to busy yourself stocking something but you felt Seungcheol’s chest brush your elbow. You turned back over your shoulder to look at him, a shy smile flickering across your lips.
“Hey,” you mumbled softly. Your fingers pressed into the counter, and while Seungcheol had a smile on his face you could see something else hidden beneath his eyes.
“You know that guy?” His tone was a little bit more constricted than you were used to.
“I was just being friendly.”
Not entirely true, and you both knew it. Seungcheol hummed, and nodded his eyes darting to the other end of the room.
Suddenly, you remembered the little piece of art that Seungcheol had recently bestowed upon himself. Your own gaze flickered down to Seungcheol’s bicep, the trails of ink make your mouth run dry.
Fuck, yesterday’s shift hadn’t been a wild wet dream about your innocent coworker after all.
Working with Seungcheol had never been quiet really. You two, as aforementioned, had been bonded in a way since the day that you two first met. It wasn’t really anything serious. You weren’t his closest friend at work. You really hung out outside of work but at work he was always talking to you.
He would ask to be put on positions next to you so that he could tell you about his interests and ask you about yours. He was so silly in that way. Always went out of his way to say hi to you. Always treated you like you were besties, with his sometimes lingering gaze and that look in his eyes as if he constantly wanted to say more.
And now? You were the one who was pushing the boundaries of your friendship. You were the one staring too long. The one who was letting your interactions drag a little bit longer than maybe they should.
“Have you seen Seungcheol’s tattoo?” You asked on break as if it hadn’t been the topic of everyone ever since he got it. Your coworker broke out into a small smile.
“It’s amazing,” she mumbled, leaning forward on the table. “Have you seen the whole thing?”
Your eyes were wide.
“Have you?” You asked. She laughed slightly, shaking her head.
“No, but what I wouldn’t give...”
“How far do you think it reaches?” You asked, and your fingers traced subcnociously over where you thought that tattoo might stretch over his body. “Over his shoulder blade? Onto his clavicle?”
“Do you want to see?”
Your eyes grew wide at the sound of Seungcheol’s oh so distinct voice. You pressed your lips tightly together, and glanced over at the man who was suddenly in the break room. You gave him a thin smile as if you hadn’t been caught rather openly fascinating (was it enough to be lusting?) over the tattoo that you knew wasn’t supposed to be leaving you soaked.
“You’ll show?” Your coworker asked. Seungcheol glanced at you and then joined you at the table. He pulled out his phone, seeming to take his time as he scrolled through it trying to find what you only assumed was photographic evidence of the ink on his arm.
After a few seconds that felt like hours Seungcheol turned his phone to your coworker, the screen out of your view.
“Oh my god.” You didn’t want to seem too interested. You fought the urge to crain your neck and look. “Oh my god. You’re hiding all of that under your shirt?”
Seungcheol’s laugh only made you want to see it more. He was so cocky, thriving under the attention she was giving. She leaned forward, the tips of her fingers brushing the bottom of his phone as if to see the photo better.
“That was money well spent Seungie.”
Seungie.
You had known that she was closer to Seungcheol than you. You had always known that. The two of them practically hung out every week.
So... Why did that stupid nicknmae make you bite down on your tongue?
Seungie. It wasn’t even a good nickname. It was reminiscent of that of first year high schoolers thinking their week long fling was something that would turn into a lifelong marriage.
You forced a larger smile on your lips to hide the tight feeling of something you could only truly identify as jealousy down into the pit of your stomach. You were being stupid. You hoped to god that neither of them could sense the energy change from you.
The two continued to talk, and Seungcheol kept that photo just out of your line of sight. You were too stubborn to lean forward and look at it. Too stubborn to just admit how badly you wanted to see this stupid boy without a shirt on.
You just wanted to see that tattoo. Really, just the tattoo.
“You should come over,” Seungcheol suggested as he tucked his phone away, your coworker disappearing out of the break room door. You let your eyebrows raise at the question.
“Why?”
“I’ve been wanting you to watch something with me,” Seungcheol replied. “And I think you want something from me too.”
You really ought to fake it better. You both had the same little smile across your lips. The ones that you always used with one another.
It was such a simple invite. Innocent. But then again it was always innocent between you and Seungcheol, wasn’t it? You two held the sort of banter that you always loved to have with people. Pure chemistry. The ability to easily fire back at one another, never a dull moment in the conversation, always harboring interest for whatever you two were talking about.
You nodded because, of course you did.
Seungcheol’s apartment was different than you had imagined.
He was a geek, wasn’t he? Always bragging about his room and how amazing it was. His you should come see someday’s had always felt like empty invitations. But now you were here. It was different. Good different.
Seungcheol turned on a show that he had spoken to you about many times before. A show you had always assured him you would watch. A show you never actually did turn on.
The characters began to dance across the screen, and you let your gaze focus on it. You two were silent for a little. He was wandering around his room and you were pretending like you didn’t desperately need him to take his shirt off.
“You really haven’t seen this show,” Seungcheol said, and you let your attention turn to him. He was leaning against his dresser, watching you intently. You pretended like you two hadn’t had this conversation a million times before.
“I haven’t,” you agreed.
“So hard to believe,” he breathed. He shook his head slightly, his hair brushing the tips of his ears. You turned your attention back to the television. Seungcheol rummaged around for a little longer before finally he took a seat next to you on his bed.
He kept a distance between you two.
You risked a glance at him, your eyes going to his arm, to that stupid tattoo that was still hidden beneath his stupid shirt.
“Come here,” Seungcheol mumbled softly. You scooted closer to him, your eyes focused on his tattoo. “You want to see it?”
You nodded, still not looking at him.
“If that’s okay.”
He breathed a laugh.
“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”
You glanced at Seungcheol, eyebrows furrowing.
“I don’t have any tattoos.”
He just hummed his response, and with one hand dragged his shirt off over his head.
Finally.
To your delight, the tattoo was equally just as amazing as you had imagined, and more amazing than you had imagined. The black bolts of lightning inched up his bicep, up onto his shoulder. One of the bolts spreading across his clavicle. You felt your mouth gape stupidly as you looked at him, show completely forgotten in the background.
“You can touch it if you want.”
You didn’t need prompting more. You reached forward, fingers lightly running across the lightning streaks. As you did, Seungcheol leaned forward, his hand placed directly between your thighs. You didn’t pay too much attention, but his hot breath on your neck was sending heat right through your core.
“I would have thought you would be disinterested in my tattoo by now,” Seungcheol whispered, as his spoke his fingers inched forward, his thumb begginning to rub small circles into your thigh.
You swallowed hard, eyes flickering to Seungcheol.
“Nu-uh,” you murmured. “I hadn’t gotten to see it yet.”
You felt yourself inching closer to Seungcheol, silently urging his hand forward. Seungcheol got the idea and pressed his thumb over your clit through your panties. You bit down on your lip to prevent a whine from leaving your lips, and instead focused back on his tattoo, running your fingers up the length of it to where it spread over his clavicle.
His fingers pushed against your underwear, so that it was just slightly pressed inside of you, and then he began to rub up and down between your folds.
“You’ve been driving me crazy,” he mumbled. “It really took me getting a tattoo to get your attention, huh? 500 dollars later and you were finally looking at me the way I wanted you to.”
The confession caught you off guard but as you went to question him his fingers were dipping beneath your underwear. “So wet,” he breathed, so quietly that you knew it wasn’t for you.
He pressed two of his fingers into you and this time you couldn’t hold back the whimper that left your lips. Seungcheol’s response was immediate, a quiet shushing that just made you need his touch anymore.
“It’s okay, y/n,” he said softly. “Are you going to be good for me?”
A whine bubbled up in your throat and you nodded sharply. He practically purred in your ear.
“Then just hold on, won’t you?” He asked softly. You nodded again, your fingers tightening a little around Seungcheol’s bicep. Normally, you weren’t one so quick to silence... Or obedience for that matter, but your skin was burning. You couldn’t imagine doing anything but listen to him in this moment.
Seungcheol’s fingers dipped deep inside of you, his fingers curling once he was buried to his knuckles. You couldn’t help the way that your head fell forward, your nose brushing the nape of his neck.
“You sound so pretty for me,” Seungcheol mumbled, making you only just then realize that this whole time you had been letting the tiniest whimpers leave your lips. You pressed your lips closed tightly, tilting your head so that your lips brushed his neck. “No, no.”
Seungcheol’s head tilted down, his lips brushing your forehead.
“You don’t get to hide your little moans from me,” he mumbled. He set a slow, lazy pace really, of fucking his fingers in and out of you. His thumb brushed your clit, and you bit down hard on your tongue, determined to not humiliate yourself even more.
You had come here to watch a show with him... To see his tattoo and now you were being fingered on his bed and to be completely honest the embarrassment was dulled by the pleasure running through your body.
No matter how deep Seungcheol drove his fingers into you, it didn’t feel like nearly enough. Seungcheol’s fingers stilled deep inside of you, and you ignored it, thinking that it was just a passing tease. Seconds passed. A minute.
“S-Seungcheol.”
Seungcheol hummed, his lips fluttering across your forehead. You tried not to look at him. You fought it in yourself not to wriggle your hips in desperation.
“Seungcheol,” you pressed, your tone bordering upon begging. A small laugh vibrated through Seungcheol’s body. He pulled his fingers out of you and then pushed them back in. Surprisingly fast, surprisingly deep. You mewled, your head falling back a little.
Seungcheol’s head dipped down, and his lips brushed yours.
“How far are you going to let this go?” He asked you. “You gonna cum around my fingers?”
You pressed forward, chasing Seungcheol’s lips but he pulled away. Stupid smile spread on his lips. Stupid lips pressed to your cheek.
“I’m n-not gonna-” Your words faltered. Your body burning. You tilted your head up so that Seungcheol’s lips trailed down your cheek, across your jawline, and down to your neck. His lips pressed into a small kiss.
“You want a third?” Had his voice always been so hypnotic? You nodded, too eagerly. His lips brushed up and down your neck as you moved. “I need to hear your words. You’re so quiet when I’ve got my fingers fucking you open.”
“Fuck,” you whined, but you refused to give in.
“That’s not a very good word,” Seungcheol chastised. “What would they say if we were at work right now, hm?”
You were silent, your teeth biting down on your bottom lip.
“Now, now,” his voice came, and his fingers stopped. “I asked you a question yeah? Aren’t you my superior? Why don’t you remind me of the rules.”
Oh god, that shouldn’t be so hot.
“It’s a point,” you whispered back. Seungcheol hummed again.
“And how many points before our first punishment?”
A shiver ran through your body.
“Six.”
“Let’s hope you don’t get to that point.”
Seungcheol pushed a third finger into you, and it sent a slight burn through your body. Seungcheol groaned as he pushed his fingers into you, no doubt feeling how tight you were squeezing him.
“Baby-” Oh god. “If you’re squeezing my fingers like that... I don’t really know that I’ll be able to fit.”
You swallowed and lifted your head, your gaze meeting Seungcheol’s. Your mouth was still closed tight. You were still trying so hard to be quiet. But your eyes were wide, your curiosity at his words were undeniable.
“Which do you want more?” He asked you softly. You refused to answer. “You really need to learn to use your words. Your pretty little cunt is sobbing for attention, but those eyes are begging me to take my clothes off.”
Your fingers splayed over Seungcheol’s bicep, your eyes going back to the dark lines etched over him.
“Clothes off,” you breathed.
“Good choice,” he purred.
He pulled his fingers from you and got to his feet so smoothly that it wasn’t like he was moving at all. You let out a vocal protest towards the loss of him, but it only made him laugh at your expense.
“There’s your voice,” he teased. You could see your wetness glistening on Seungcheol’s fingers as his fingers hooked on the waistband of his pants. He pulled them down, and then almost immediately after, his boxers were dropped to the ground.
You slapped your hand over your mouth to muffle the strangled moan that left your lips.
Never in your six months of working with Choi Seungcheol had you imagined that he would be fucking hung, and yet here you were looking at his (pardon the lack of imaginative description) monster energy drink sized cock in both girth and length.
You had never been with anyone with a cock as big as his... You had never seen a cock as big as his.
You hadn’t even known that a dick his size was even real.
“I’m getting a bit self-conscious,” Seungcheol said, his voice dragging you back to reality. Your face reddened but you didn’t move your hand from your mouth. Seungcheol didn’t seem to care, not really. He walked over to you, his fingers balling in your shirt. “What do you want?”
You knew what you wanted from Seungcheol now more than you ever had before.
“I want you,” you whispered back. Seungcheol’s eyes glinted.
“I like it went you use your words,” he slurred. You let your hands fall lax at your sides, giving Seungcheol the room to pull your shirt over your head. Given the opportunity Seungcheol was fast with his hands. Your shirt and bra were tossed aside to the floor in moments, and you were helping him wiggle you out of your underwear immediately after.
You were hoping that sense of urgency would continue, but just as soon as your clothes were off to the side, Seungcheol was trapping you between his arms, staring down at you with an expression on his face that made you wiggle. His eyes flitted down your body, and as he inspected you one of his hands came between your thighs. He tapped your inner thigh.
“Let me see,” he mumbled. You obediently let your legs spread, and Seungcheol took that as an opportunity to slide down your body, the pads of his hands pressed even further at your inner thighs and his gaze fully settled between your legs.
A whine was ripped from your body, and it made Seungcheol’s eyes flutter closed for a brief second. But then, his eyes were open again.
“You’re so fucking wet,” Seungcheol said, his breath making you clamp around absolutely fucking nothing like a common whore. “Is this all for me?”
His thumb grazed between the folds of your pussy, and he spread you out so that he could see you better.
“’s fucking embarrassing,” you murmured out. Seungcheol raised an eyebrow in your direction.
“Two points.”
You let your head fall back into the pillow.
“Embarrassing,” you reasserted.
“It’s not embarrassing,” Seungcheol denied. You felt something brush between your folds and you glanced down in time to see the tip of Seungcheol’s nose raising his tongue darting over you. Another groan from him. “It’s only natural to make such a mess when someone is touching you like this. And you like it when I touch you like this don’t you?”
You nodded, and he pressed a kiss to your core.
“Words.”
“Yes,” you cried out, desperate for more. This time you felt his laugh vibrating through your core. He was messy down there, like he was in his own little world. He lapped at your pussy like it was water, literally fucking animalistic. His fingers dug into your thighs as he pressed your legs wide open for him. Pressing so hard that you felt like you were going to break.
Seungcheol didn’t care for that. He didn’t seem worried at all that he would break you. Instead, he was lost between your thighs. A glance down at him in between your little moans and you could see that his face was slick with wetness.
“You’re making such a mess,” Seungcheol mumbled into you as if it was your fault that you were like this. “Getting yourself all over my face. All over my bed...”
You wiggled under his touch.
“It’s not fair,” you whined. “You get to touch me all you want... I w-want to touch you.”
“Is that so?”
He didn’t have any right to be so cocky.
“Want to taste your dick,” you admitted, your words betraying the fact that your thoughts were just about as reliable as Nick Carraway’s words in the Great Gatsby.
He did have the right to be so cocky. At this point you didn’t think you would be able to do anything before getting his cock pressed into you. Whether in your mouth, or your pussy? You didn’t care. Just needed his cock to be somewhere inside of you.
“Seungcheol,” you pressed, annoyance vibrating through your body. Seungcheol hummed against you. Fucking bratty. You lowered your hand to his hair, tugging him off you sharply. He looked up at you, his eyes dark despite the general amusement riddled there. “Want to taste your dick.”
Seungcheol slapped your thigh, making you cry out in surprise and loosen your grip in his hair.
“Not very nice,” he chided. “You better put your money where your mouth is.”
Seungcheol pulled off of the bed, dragging you to the edge with him by a single hand on your thigh. When you got to the edge you pushed yourself off the bed, your knees hitting the ground.
You wrapped both of your hands around Seungcheol’s dick. You gave him an experimental tug, dragging your hands all the way up to the tip of his cock. You let your thumb flicker over his slit, teasing it until precum dampened it.
You pressed forward, your tongue darting to his tip, tasting the salty liquid.
Unlike you, Seungcheol wasn’t trying to stay quiet. A breathy moan escaped his lips, and he reached forward, both of his hands scooping your head in his hands. He pressed your head forward, slowly easing your mouth onto him.
You let your lips give way to girth of his dick as he pushed your head forward, your fingers tightening on his hips in anticipation.
“Your mouth is so warm,” Seungcheol mumbled softly. You let your gaze raise up to Seungcheol, and he was peering down at you from under his pretty long lashes. You gagged a little around Seungcheol’s dick and his movements came to a hault. You struggled to catch your breath, grasp tightening again but not pushing him off.
Seungcheol’s fingers stroked your head until finally you caught your breath and you pressed yourself forward without any prompting from him and he got the idea quickly. He started to guide your mouth down on his dick, not pausing again until his cock was buried completely in your mouth.
You let a whine vibrate your whole body. Seungcheol smiled down at you, one of his hands sliding down your face to brush the corner of your stretched out lips.
“You look so pretty with my cock down your pretty little throat.”
The veiled praise went right to your already soaked core, but Seungcheol was so blissed out that he didn’t even care. He began to ease himself out of you, taking his fucking time, pulling you all the way to his tip and then pressing you all the way back down until your nose was pressed to his lower abdomen.   
Seungcheol started to press a faster pace. He wasn’t rough by any means, his grip on you was surprisingly gentle, and he was clearly in no rush at all. Not to cum, not to fuck you, not for anything. He was living in the moment, just grateful to have his dick down your throat.
Were you a whore for that making you so much wetter? The thought that he really was practically just using you. You were patient with him at first, but soon you weren’t able to keep that to yourself anymore. You whined and wiggled against him, patting his thigh until he released his grip on you.
“I can’t fucking wait anymore,” you bit out. Seungcheol raised an amused eyebrow.
“That’s three points,” he warned. Your eyes narrowed at him, which just made him laugh.
“Get on the bed if you need my cock that badly,” he murmured. “But I’m warning you. You’re sounding a little slutty when you talk like that.”
You didn’t care, a moan ripped from your mouth, and you scrambled up onto the bed. Seungcheol followed after you, a small push of the shoulder pressing you back onto his comforter. You wriggled underneath him, your eyes closing as you waited for him to move, to do something.
“Shit,” Seungcheol mumbled. Your eyes fluttered open, and you looked at him. He was staring at you, a pained look in his eyes and a hand stroking his cock.
“Did you bring a condom?” He asked you. Your lips pressed into a thin line, and you shook your head. Seungcheol gave you an apologetic smile. “I guess I’ll just have to make you cum a different way.”
A panicked feeling ripped through your body. You desperately didn’t want him to pull away. Not when he was so close to fucking you. You suddenly wrapped your legs around Seungcheol waist, pulling him closer to you, his tip dipping unintentionally into you.
You both let out matching moans.
“Need you to fuck me,” you mumbled, your face burning.
“Baby-” Seungcheol sounded wrecked. “I don’t have a condom.”
You were doing your best to avoid looking at Seungcheol.
“I don’t care.” Your voice was shaky, and even though you weren’t looking at him you could see the stupid cocky expression that had now appeared on his face.
“Yeah?” You were silent, but you tried to roll your hips down on Seungcheol to push him further into you. Seungcheol stilled you fast by digging his fingers into your hips- So deep that you were sure it was going to leave bruises.
“You want me to fuck you raw?”
You nodded, mouth still shut.
“I want to hear you say it,” Seungcheol pressed. You thought normally you would play against Seungcheol more. You thought maybe you would make him push you to say it more. But the tip of his cock still inside of you was making you so fucking desperate you really couldn’t hold back.
“I want you to fuck me raw.”
Seungcheol pushed fully into you without much more argument. You cried out at the thrust, wrapping your arms around Seungcheol’s neck, dragging him closer to you.
“You’re not doing very good baby,” he cooed. “Letting my pressure you into saying bad words? Begging someone to fuck you raw? So dirty... Shameless.”
He laughed against you but it was mixed in a loud moan.
“That’s another point. You’re at four.”
Before you could fight him back on it he began to slowly drag his cock out of you, pulling himself all the way out to the tip. You didn’t care about staying quiet anymore. You whined loudly
“Guess what baby?” Seungcheol whispered. Your hands slipped into his hair, fingers pulling at his strands.
“Close, fucking close,” you babbled, completely ignoring him. Seungcheol dipped his head, his lips brushing your ear.
“You hit six points.”
In seconds you were empty. Your eyes shot open and you pulled Seungcheol’s head up by his hair so that you could look him in the eyes. You must have looked fucked stupid under him. Your eyes wide and glazed over and your mouth gaping as you silently begged him to put his cock back inside of you. You two were quiet for a few seconds. Simply panting next to one another.
“Seungcheol fucking put-”
Seungcheol’s hand darted to your chin, and his fingers pressed into your cheek, forcing you to stop talking.
“What should your punishment be, hm?” He teased lightly. “Should I just get myself off and come all over you? Make you sit there covered in it?”
You tried to shake your head, but Seungcheol’s grip was tight- You were locked in one spot.
“Please,” you breathed. “Please Cheol. I need you to fuck me so badly. I need to come.”
Speaking with his fingers pressed into your cheeks was painful in a way that just spiraled down to your core, leaving you just that much more turned on and desperate for him to fuck you again.
“I could make you come,” he replied. His fingers darted down to your clit. He pressed down on you and began to rub your clit in firm circles. You threw your head back, shaking your head.
“No, no, no,” you protested. “Need to come with you inside of me.”
“But if I give you what you want then you’ll never learn,” Seungcheol teased.
“No!” You blurted, feeling pleasure coil through your body. You were fighting back against your own orgasm harder than you ever had before. “I’ll learn, I’ll learn.”
“No, you won’t,” he chided. “You had so many chances before punishment, and you didn’t learn then.”
You were co close. You didn’t even want to come at the moment and yet you were so fucking close.
Seungcheol pulled his fingers away from you and again you had your orgasm ripped away from you. Tears sprouted at the edge of your eyes and Seungcheol slapped your innerthigh.
“You’re going over my legs,” he mumbled. He pulled you to the edge of the bed, and dragged you over his legs. You whined and buried your face into the comforter.
“Fu-” Before you could get the whole word out Seungcheol’s hand came down hard on your ass. You cried out, a mixture of pleasure and pain running through your body.
“Why don’t you count for me?” He asked. You whined, shaking your head. Seungcheol hummed. “Unless, you’re not into this?”
His tone turned to a lighter one. For once he wasn’t teasing you.
Fuck.
“O-One,” you murmured. Seungcheol hummed again, and his hand came down on you again. “Two.”
Seungcheol’s hand ran over the curve of your ass, and two of his fingers dipped into your pussy. At this angle there was a slight burn despite the fact that not long ago something much bigger had been inside of you.
He pulled his fingers out again and suddenly slapped your ass.
Your whole body jolted.
“Th-three.”
“See? Isn’t it more fun when you listen?” Seungcheol asked you. “You could have come by now. Could have come around my cock just the way that you wanted to but no you had to be bad and break the same rules that you have to enforce everyday at work.”
“We’re not at work,” you protested, and Seungcheol slapped your ass again. You gritted your teeth together. “F-Four.”
“So mouthy,” Seungcheol tutted. “But you’re almost done.”
“Almost done,” you repeated, mimicking his tone in a way that you knew was in no way accurate. Your tone high and your body wiggling underneath him. His fingers slipped into your pussy again, spreading lazily.
“Isn’t this what you always complain about to the other managers at work?” Seungcheol asked. “People who can’t do something as simple as follow the rules...?” A whimper ripped from your lips. “If I didn’t know any better I would say that you enjoy getting punished. You like me being in control for once.”
You shook your body out in frustration, lightly biting down on the back of your hand and screaming into it.
“You’re wrong-” Seungcheol hit your ass again. And you bit down on your bottom lip to try and keep yourself from counting that hit. A hum of disapproval left Seungcheol’s mouth.
“If you don’t count you just get more,” he warned. As if to prove it his hand came down on you again. “And I’m not scared to turn your ass dark red. You look so fucking pretty over my knees like this.”
“F-Five and six,” you bit out suddenly, shaking your head desperately. “Please Cheol, I really, really need your cock.”
“No,” Seungcheol turned down. “You still have one more. That’s what you get for missing a count.”
More tears ran down your cheeks and you shook your head.
“I re-really need you,” you whined out. He hit you again. “Six.”
Seungcheol’s fingers threaded in your hair and he pulled you up. You dragged one of your legs over his legs. Seungcheol’s hands ran up your sides, and then he tightened his grip on your hips. He lifted you and then sunk you back down on his cock.
At this angle you literally felt like you were being split open on his cock, your whole body shook and you dropped your face into the crook of his neck.
“I-I-” You wanted to curse so badly. “Seung- Seungcheol.”
“I really hope that you don’t act out again,” Seungcheol mumbled. “Because I’m tired of waiting for you to come on my cock.”
You moaned loudly into Seungcheol’s skin. He raised you up again by your hips and slammed you back down on his cock. Your hands darted to Seungcheol’s shoulders and your fingers dug into him.
“You’re just s-so b-big,” you managed to get out. One of his hands raised to your chin and he tilted your head up.
“Ride me,” he mumbled. You nodded, your eyes darting to his lips.
“Kiss me,” you replied.
Seungcheol’s lips pressed to yours and you began to ease yourself up on Seungcheol’s cock. The stimulation of his cock and the burn on your ass from getting punished was just making you that much weaker. You couldn’t help the way that you were literally crying against his lips.
His hand raised to your cheeks, and his thumb swiped the tears across your cheeks. He broke of the kiss. “You need it badly don’t you?” He whispered. “Need me to take over again?”
You let your forehead fall against his. You didn’t really want to admit it but before you could voice that Seungcheol’s free hand pressed to your clit.
“Be good,” he warned. You nodded quickly.
“Pl-Please,” you breathed. “I need you to take over.”
Seungcheol grabbed your hips and began to raise and drop you on his cock. It didn’t really matter how long Seungcheol fucked you like that really. You were coming undone under him after only a few drops. You pressed your lips forward so that Seungcheol was kissing you again as he fucked you hard. With each drop he was forcing his hips up deeper inside of you.
Your whole body shook against Seungcheol’s and you went limp in Seungcheol’s hands. He still forced his cock in and out of you through your orgasm but even as you were blissed out you knew what you needed.
“Ch-Cheol,” you whimpered. “N-Need your cum. Inside.”
Your voice was weak but his wasn’t much better.
“Y/n-”
“Please.”
He didn’t make you beg anymore. You cried out as you felt Seungcheol’s cum spurting deep into your already sensitive pussy. Your whole body burned against Seungcheol and you shook your head against him.
“Oh fu-” You caught yourself and quickly shut your mouth. He laughed, exhaustion thrumming through his body.
“I told you that you wouldn’t learn unless you were punished.”
Seungcheol pulled you off of him, letting you roll over onto his bed. You whined, and shoved your face back into his sheets.
“Cheol your stupid tattoo is so cool,” you groaned. He laughed.
“You know, I really like it when you call me that,” he said softly. You felt him fall next to you on the bed, his fingers lightly brushing against your back.
“Yeah? More than Seungie?”
You wanted to hit yourself.
“Are you jealous?” He asked you with a laugh. You rolled over, letting your fingers twitch against his.
“I’m not jealous,” you denied. He grabbed your hand and tugged you closer to his body.
“Yes, you are,” he asserted. You grumbled, but turned into him anyways, wrapping your arms around his body and burying your face into his chest.
“No more than you are,” you retorted. “Can’t even chat with guests around you.”
Seungcheol hummed, but his lack of vocal disagreement just proved to you that you were right.
“What tattoo should I get next?” Seungcheol asked after a few minutes of silence. You looked up at him, pressing your lips together.
“Why are you asking me?” You murmured. His lips quirked up into a smile.
“So that I can drive you crazy wanting to see that one too.”
-
“Guess, what I heard.”
You looked up at your coworker, giving her a raised eyebrow, a bit annoyed that she was disrupting you while you were stocking but she didn’t seem to care really. She just leaned back on the counter.
“Seungcheol got another new tattoo.”
You looked back at what you were stocking, only so that she would not see the pained look on your face at the news. He had been mentioning that he really was going to get one. Every time he fucked you asking you where you thought the next one should be. Making you touch the places on his body that you wanted them to be. Teasing you with the fact that you were completely fucking obsessed with him.
“That’s...” Were you breathing easily? “Cool.”
“So cool,” she replied. “Everyone wants to see it but he’s refusing to show it to anyone yet, or even tell us what he got.”
Your eyebrows furrowed at the news.
“Really?” You asked. “Why?”
“He said that his girlfriend gets to see it first.”
Girlfriend. You thought back over the last time you had seen Seungcheol. Two nights ago, his cock buried deep inside of you.
“I’m getting the new tattoo tomorrow,” he mumbled into your neck.
“I want to see it first.”
A laugh left his lips.
“Yeah? You think I’m yours or something?”
You hadn’t really meant your answer.
“Aren’t you?”
You pressed down the urge to smile, and instead rolled your eyes.
“What idiot would date stupid Choi Seungcheol?”
Your hand slipped and a bucket started to fall to the ground. Before you could do anything someone caught it and your eyes flickered up, gaze meeting Seungcheol’s. His voice dropped so quiet that you knew that no one but the two of you could hear it.
“An idiot whose ass is going to be red tonight.”
Your face blazed and excitement coiled through the pit of your stomach, but you hid it behind a coy smile.
“That’s going to be a point.”
You were just glad the next day no one asked you why you were walking funny.
1K notes · View notes
reiincarnatiion · 10 months
Text
shadows of destiny | azriel x reader | part one
summary : 3 sisters for 3 brothers....right? Azriel believes wholeheartedly that Elain should be his mate and in doing so ignores his deep feelings for you.
🧚‍♀️
a/n : I haven't written in like 6 years since my draco malfoy and kpop fanfictions HAHA so please forgive me I am rusty!! Also I wrote this on my phone eeee
but finally eee I'm so excited to post my first writing on tumblr !! I was always a quotev and wattpad girly but here I am finally... 💗
just writing some rough short stories rn but I'll def write more as I get more comfortable again and into the rhythm! let me know what you think please 🫶🏼
ps: it's not proof read cuz I'm lazy I'm so sorry so please ignore mistakes dearies
-----🩷🧚‍♀️💗------
You watched as Azriel bent down to whisper something into Elains ear and you felt a growl beginning to build up in your throat.
You didn't know the mating bond did this ; make one so possessive and jealous that the half-moon nail marks on your palms had become blood red, from gripping your fists too strongly.
"I just don't understand why you can't tell him," a voice whispers next to you. You turn to acknowledge Mor, as she slips in next to you into the booth.
"Because the moment I do, this whole dynamic changes Mor," you whisper back, indicating to the sprawl of people around you.
You guys had come to Rita's once again, to party, drink, kiss and do other nonsense things Cassian had eagerly talked about, whilst pitching the idea to the group. It had started off fun, with everyone talking together but as the night had progressed, they had all paired off. You could see Feyre and Rhys making out in the corner of your eyes and Nesta and Cassian dancing around each other on the club floor. Elain and Azriel had also innocently gotten up and moved to another table, using a range of excuses you hadn't bothered to process.
Even Mor had a female making eyes at her from afar.
"Then change the dynamic, Y/N. I need some excitement in my life," she whispered furiously again and slid out, stalking to the female at the bar.
Groaning you sunk into the booth, left alone to your thoughts plagued by one thing only, Azriel.
The repetitive music slowly faded out, as you downed drink after drink, watching the others around you mingle and grind away into the depths of the night. They would come past your table and say a few words before being dragged away again.
But not once did he come. Not once did he even look in your direction... and it infuriated you.
"You look more miserable than me,"
You blinked, looking up to focus in on the flop of red hair, braids and whizzing metallic eye and a handsome jawline.
"Lucien!!!" you let out a whine, attempting to get up but falling back down in the process, not having realised how much strong alcohol you had consumed in the last hour.
"Woah there stargirl," he slipped in next to you, using the nickname only he used for you.
Lucien and you had met on Starfall, as you had been leaning on the balcony, apparently being half a second from falling over because of your drunk eagerness to "catch one of the stars", and since then, he had named you Stargirl. Your friendship had blossomed due to your matching humour and desire to travel the realms.
His shoulder pressed up against you, his warmth spread through you, making you feel giddy. You couldn't tell if it was the alcohol or your desperation, as you abruptly laid a hand on his thigh.
If he noticed, he didn't show it as he took a swig of one of the elixirs that you had in your hand.
As he drank, you watched his eyes zero in on his elusive mate and you swore you saw them darken.
His scent visibly changed as he placed the now empty cup back on the table with a lethal fluidness that had you wondering how good he was at controlling his emotions.
"Its a shame we are mated to the wrong people, otherwise you and I would have ruled the world" he whispers, still not looking at you.
Your breath catching in your throat, your heavy heart pangs with emotion, exaggerated from the effects of the ethanol.
"At least she knows you are her mate Lucien... he doesn't even know about me," you miserably mutter.
You feel Luciens hot gaze rest on you as you look up into his deep eyes.
There's no doubt the turmoil of seeing each other's mates together shines in both of your eyes, but behind the pathetic nature of the situation, a force glint shines through his.
"Then why don't we tell him, Y/N," he urges, a smirk growing on his face.
Your heart drops as you make eye contact with Lucien, his eyes glinting with jealousy and anger.
You had never seen Lucien ever break his calm facades, he always would take whatever Elain would throw at him ; why was he so fired up tonight?
"You have always been so kind to Elain and given her time Lucien, why do you want to make her jealous now?" you voice your thoughts, causing him to look away, as you attempt to search his eyes.
Little did you know or feel, the dark cool gaze that had been assessing you since the moment Lucien had slipped in.
If one were to look through your party at this moment in time, the looks of longing and jealously swirling between you and Lucien could easily have been interpreted as longing and hunger for each other. With now, your full body turned to him, intimately touching him, shoulder to shoulder, anyone could mistake you as a couple.
---
Azriel nodded patiently as he listened to Elain talk about the new plants she wished to acquire from the Dawn Court for her garden.
He was trying so hard to listen and be attentive, but it was difficult when his shadows were buzzing about him, even more frantically, with the effects of the alcohol he had been consuming throughout the night.
He knew the amount of pumps of the vanilla perfume you had sprayed onto yourself, he knew how many times you had sighed throughout the night and he knew of the half-moon marks on your hands. His shadows told him everything, even when he didn't want to know.
For he didn't want to know the looks Lucien and you were giving each other, he didn't want to acknowledge the clenching of your thighs or the hand on your thigh or the-
"-So what do you think Azriel?"
Elains sweet voice cut in deeply through his silent spiralling, as he hummed coming back to the present.
Her big doe eyes innocently looked up at him as he racked his brain for what she had been asking about.
"YES I think the plants would be wonderful-," he began, when his shadows started screaming, "Elain excuse me one moment."
He quickly got up, his eyes narrow and jaw clenching as he went to get out of the booth in haste.
Elains eyes followed him and they widened slightly.
Luciens' hands were on your waist, holding you up from behind, as you both made your way to the dance floor, giggling.
---
read [ part two ] here deariess <3
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nrdmssgs · 8 months
Note
CONGRATS ON 500, you 100% deserve it and more !!! 🥹🌷💐 i just love your art and work so, so much!!
if it's alright, can i request 37 with könig? my husband, i need him !!!! 😮‍💨
Masterlist List of prompts What? An author, who practically inspired me to come here and start writing? An author, who gifted me the biggest brainrot for many sides of König? Sends me a request? Orla, I am such a huge fan!!!!!! I love your style, love your bold, picturesque oneshots, love your eagerness to discover so many themes. I owe you so much, you don't have an idea. I made a text and a picture in case, you don't like the text. Sorry, I'm fangirling and I'm nervous)
Does it make you nervous, when I stare?
Pairing: KonigxReader Warning: this is NSFW. And König here is not the shyest guy on Earth, because this is colonel edition.
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Oh, the things, you would let this man do to you. Unspeakable, ungodly things. Things so unhinged, you wouldn't mention them even after a few rounds of shots with your besties.
One sight of his fingers tapping the tabletop during the debriefing, and you can't think about anything other than the salty taste on your lips, left by his thumb. It would take him just one word, or maybe even one glance to make you cover his index and middle finger in saliva, as he would slide them against your tongue. You'd be so good - standing on your knees for him, sucking his fingers so eagerly, fighting your own gag reflex.
One glance thrown at his forearms, tightly hugged by black cloth, and you imagine his massive hands picking you up like you weigh nothing at all. You'd freeze, learn to hold your breath for as long as he wants, until you'd feel only the brush of his mouth against yours and the grumble of his impatience when he pushes in. The intoxicating thickness of his tongue against yours would be a taste that would rocket to your core and melt you from the inside, as he'd hover over you, pushing apart your legs with the brush of his massive thighs between yours. He'd take and take and take. And how obediently will you keep giving him anything, he demands.
Looking at his hips is a serious danger. Slick outlines of his muscles, his fingers brushing up and down his lap, black holster straps spanning his thigh make you go absolutely feral. You'd be standing still, feeling his low growl with your entire body. You'd hold your hands high against the wall and arch your back, so he can have access to every single part of your body. You'd accept him reminding you, with each his hungry thrust, where your place is: wrapped in his arms while he rubs you senseless, his teeth on your neck leaving you on the edge of pain.
All that fantasies you could hide from König, if it wasn't for his eyes: deep cold silver light, sparkling with interest, every time, he caught you staring. You couldn't make yourself look away: his stare was a predatory gaze, luring you closer, easing you into a thought of coming closer, stripping you of any bit of self-preservation instinct. Yes, when he caught your eyes - König took his time, ravishing in a sight of your desperate blush, letting go of you and turning his gaze away only when you were literally choking with shame, trying to drive away the visions that he awakened in your mind. This man was to become the end of you, and every next day it was only harder to fight that feeling off.
So when you hear, he is expanding his team, it feels only natural to surrender and use this ghostly opportunity to get closer to him. You know, your chance to join the team, his inner circle, is almost zero. By no means, you can be considered a poor professional, but the Colonel is a legend here. He doesn't want just 'the best' he wants those outstanding even from the best. And your personnel files scream 'just good' at best. But you have a motivation, the one so strong and specific, that maybe only you here have. Your obsession with König is pushing you to the darkest void, you were too scared to come to earlier - the threshold of his office.
"Come in." His voice at it finest: not too loud, not too harsh, all honey and slumber. When he wants, he can be mesmerizing as a siren.
You clench your hand into a fist behind your back, thus trying to calm the trembling that is rolling up to your knees.
"Just don't look him in the eyes, and it would be ok. Hands, yes, you can bear looking at his hands and not lose it. Afterward you can have whatever you want - your toys, your fingers, your cushions... Just look at his hands, breathe deep, and it all will be alright." Your inner monologue is interrupted only when he is pulling a folder from your hands, obviously tired of waiting for you to finally give it to him.
"What do we have he- oh..." Your breath hitches, you practically hear an uncanny smile spreading across his face.
"Die Kleine will in meinem Spiel?*" König sounds amused. And although you don't entirely understand, what he said - you get the message and nod, not daring to look him in the eyes.
"Very good. I could use such a treasure..." He flips the pages and clicks his tongue when some of your personal indicators impress him. And before you manage to exhale, he adds: "But I'll need to test you. See, if you are... ready."
"Anything, Colonel!" You blurt it out and immediately shut your mouth, realizing that it might sound ambivalent. But that's enough to make König raise from his seat and lead you from offices to firing range.
You blame it upon a rush of blood to your head, but you pass his test with flying colors. Physical tests, advanced weaponry, strategy, even sparing with König leaves you alive and just a little trembling.
The thing, that breaks you, is not even a test or a check. It happens late in the evening, when you two end up in the locker room. You just need to remove one layer of the tactical gear you were using, you'll still have your shirt and jeans on. But you stop, paralyzed, seeing out of the corner of your eye how König leans against the wall, arms folded on his chest. His gaze, you feel his gaze: lingering and hungry.
"What's wrong, treasure? Are you hurt?" You are afraid to answer and reveal your trembling voice, so you just shake your head.
"You don't know, how to loosen those straps? Want me to help you?" Again: you only shake your head, hiding your gaze.
"Is it my eyes, that make you that nervous, Schatzi*?" His accent thickens, voice drops low, as he steps closer.
You instinctively lean back, but hit the wall behind you. He takes one more step towards you and places his hand between the wall and the back of your head, so that you don't hurt yourself occasionally. But very soon, he guides you to finally look up at him. There it is: silver light, that you can never look away from, once you saw it.
"Talk to me. There can be no secrets inside my team." His voice is soft once again, but you know, it is a trap. And you fall for it.
"I just get distracted. Don't worry, Colonel, I'll learn to ignore it or to live quietly with it. Sorry..." Your voice, your entire body, is trembling.
"There's nothing to apologize for." Something sparkles deep inside his eyes. He moves his veil up, so you can see his lips, and leans right to your ear. "In fact, how about you come at the same time to my office tomorrow, treasure? After all, you've proven, you can be so good for me... It's my turn to convince you, I too can be good for you, Schatzi."
Die Kleine will in meinem Spiel? - Little one wants in my game?
Schatzi - little treasure
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