#based off that one plush with the heart boxers | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mignonricciardo · 1 year

Text

après ski | ls18

I’m so whipped for mr. lance stroll. here is my entirely self-indulgent take on the after activities of skiing with him. I also wanted to try something new for me with the instgram story/posts incorporations into this fic. I used pictures for inspirations, and thought this would be something potentially interesting. let me know if you would like more of this with future pics!

summary: lance has some ideas for how your trip's après ski should look. too bad his future brother-in-law has different ideas. (3k words)

warnings: smut, oral sex, cursing, caught in the act, winter (I hate it)

lance_stroll just added to their story

yourinstagram just added to their story

“You are lucky I like you,” my voice is wavering as chills rack my body.

Lance keeps his arms wrapped around me, laughing as he squeezes me through the layers of jackets and long-sleeves, “I know, babe. We could’ve stayed in the lodge longer for you to warm up. Dinner isn’t until 8.”

“Need a hot shower,” I shake my head. “Also, I love Chloe and Scotty, but I thought we were bad.”

Lance lets out a loud laugh at my comment, removing one of his hands to swipe us into our room inside the lodge, “I swear they’ve been in the honeymoon phase since their third date.”

“It’s never worn off?” I smile, grinning as he scoops me into his arms once the door cracks open.

“Nope, I think it’s influencing us,” he grins, letting the door swing shut behind him.

I laugh wildly as he collapses onto the bed with me still in his arms, forearms wrapped tightly around my waist and lost beneath layers of parkas. I’m still freezing, but I take notice of how Lance is trying to distract me from it. I roll over in his arms, pulling his hat off his hair and kissing his lips lightly. We’re both breathless and still in fits of giggles, and the tip of his nose is pink from the chill outside.

“While I’d love to have a honeymoon phase moment,” I grin, kissing his lips softly one more time, “I need to take a shower so I can feel my fingers and toes again.”

“You don’t want company?” he grins.

Another laugh falls from my lips, and my fingers taps the end of his nose, “Sorry, babe. I need to hog all the hot water.”

Lance groans as I roll off of him, barely audible over the rustling of winter gear, and he remains sprawled on the bed as I begin unzipping my layers of winter clothes. I catch Lance watching me as I strip down to my base layers, and I roll my eyes as I head toward the bathroom, leaving him behind on the bed laughing to himself.

The hot water initially stings my skin, but as I begin to warm up, I relish in the rising steam as feeling returns to my limbs. I stand beneath the hot steam of water for as long as I can bear it, and I step out when my skin is red and steam rises from my shoulders. Lance rounds the corner as I wrap a towel around me, stripped down to his boxers as he turns the shower on.

“Better?” he asks, running fingers through his messy hair.

I nod, slipping toward the sink and mirror, “A million times better. I would snowboard more if I always had that shower.”

He laughs as he opens the sliding glass door, slipping his boxers off before stepping into the hot stream. I apply skincare in the bathroom mirror, and I’m only onto combing my hair when he turns the shower off and steps out. He wraps a towel around his waist, and I catch him through the mirror behind me. His skin is tinged pink from the heat of the water, and his hair drips down his neck and toward the ravines of his abdomen. He smirks as he sees me checking him out, and he approaches once he’s tossed our clothes into a corner of the room.

“Lance,” I warn as his hands settle at my hips from behind.

His large palms slide across the plush towel and rest heavy on my hips. He squeezes my skin gently, heat from his hands radiating through the towel, as his head stretches above mine in the mirror.

“I’m not doing anything,” he says in a half-hearted defense, leaning forward to press a kiss to the crown of my head.

As he does, he leans forward ever-so-slightly — his hips pressing into my ass and heat from his chest radiating against my back.

“You’re so bad,” I mutter, sighing as his lips leave a kiss on my cheek before tipping my head to the side and leaving a single kiss beneath my jaw.

“Your fault,” he whispers, ending his tortuous kisses as his hands continue with their heavy grip on my hips.

“I’ve done nothing wrong here,” I say in mock defense, scoffing as I hold a hand to my chest. “I can’t believe you’d accuse me.”

“Mm, believe it,” he murmurs, wrapping his arms around my waist as his chest presses against my back.

I relish in the warmth of his bare skin on mine, and I lean back into him.

“Lance, we can’t,” I remind him, but I’m rendered powerless as I melt into his arms. “Your sister and her fiance are on the other side of our wall.”

“They’re not back yet,” he murmurs, leaning down toward my neck. “I didn’t hear them the entire time you were in the shower. We’ve still got time before we have to get ready for dinner.”

“Lance,” my voice is breathless as his lips brush against my neck. “The last thing I need is having anyone in your family hear us having sex. I’m still working on my impression here.”

“Babe, they love you already,” he continues with lips traveling across my skin. “Chloe couldn’t stop raving about you while Scotty was trying to teach you some things.”

“Surely that would change if she hears me having sex with her brother,” I answer, but it’s cut short as a gasp makes its way from my lips.

Lance grins as he slides a hand between my legs, warm fingers pressing into the skin of my inner thighs. One of my hands wraps around his wrist as I lean into his chest further, and I gasp as his finger brushes against me.

“Lance, we have a door that connects our rooms,” my voice is hushed as he continues the slow movements of his fingers.

My knees nearly buckle as he applies more pressure, and despite my logic’s reluctance, my body gives over entirely to him. His cock presses into my ass as I lean further into him, and one of my hands grasp the edge of the sink as the other stays wrapped around his wrist.

“It’s locked, baby,” he whispers, lips brushing my ear as a soft moan falls from my lips as his fingers press hotly against me. “We can be quick before they get back. Tomorrow, I’ll tell them to head to the slopes without us in the morning so I can fuck you properly first.”

“Always thinking about me,” I smile gently, rolling my hips against him as a choked groan escapes his lips. “Let me help you, love.”

“You know I don’t have the willpower to say no,” he whispers with a laugh, breathing in sharply as my hips swivel again.

I release my white knuckle grip on the sink as I spin in his arms to face him. My eyes meet his dark ones, and he’s smiling softly as his hands slide toward my ass before kneading my flesh beneath the plush towel. One of my hands rests on his chest, tracing drops of water across his collarbone, and the other slides down his abdomen, tracing divots of muscle before sliding across the top of the towel around his waist.

“Since you promise to return the favor with no one around,” my voice trails off as fingers dip beneath the plush towel.

His skin is soft against the pads of my fingers, and he shuts his eyes softly as my fingertips trace the veins along him or circle around the head of his cock. His hands grip my ass tighter as he groans.

“This is all I could think about after I helped you down the black diamond slope earlier,” his voice is hushed as my hand wraps around him softly. “Your ass looked good in those pants, and you were getting fired up because you were frustrated. I just wanted to have you without anyone else around.”

“How romantic,” I whisper, heart pounding when opens his eyes to meet mine again.

Long, dark lashes reveal his coffee-colored eyes, and a pink tinge spreads across his cheeks as my hand continues its slow pumps. He swallows thickly, throat bobbing as he sucks in a breath, and his dimples appear as a sly grin spreads on his face. My voice is a murmur as I lean up toward his ear.

“You want to know a secret?”

He nods his head, moaning quietly as my thumb swipes across his tip.

“Ever since you helped me up after the first time I fell, I haven’t been able to get the thought of me between your legs out of my head,” I admit, hand applying more pressure to him.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he mutters, pulling me toward the bedroom behind him.

He digs through his bag hastily, pulling out a large crewneck from his suitcase and tossing it onto the bed along with a pair of crew socks. I watch him with sudden amusement, holding back laughter at his flustered actions as he turns the heat up in the room on the thermostat. Lance turns back to me, motioning to the clothes on the bed.

“For you, babe. The least I can do is make sure you’re still warm.”

I laugh gently at his actions, heart swelling as I lean forward to kiss him, “You really want your dick sucked, don’t you?”

Lance laughs into the kiss and answers as I break away, “Well, if you’re going to take care of me, I need to take care of you.”

I pull the crewneck over my head, flipping wet hair to one shoulder, and the socks follow as I relish in the warmth of Lance’s clothing. He pulls a crewneck over his head as he watches me as I change, following the curves of my body as they disappear beneath his clothing, and I direct him toward the couch in the living area of the hotel suite. He settles on the plush couch, leaning back into the cushions with his legs spread, and I kneel before him. My knees press into the plush rug, and I settle into a comfortable position before looking up at him. Lance is watching me with half-open eyes, smile tugging gently at his lips as his hand rests against my cheek.

“You’ve got me so whipped,” he says honestly, beaming as he does.

I smile at his words, feeling my chest bursting as I lean into his touch, “Can we just stay here the rest of the trip?”

My question goes unanswered as my fingers dip toward the towel, tugging at it so it falls away from his waist. Lance groans as I waste no time, hands applying pressure to him as his head falls back against the edge of the couch. Curses fall from his lips quietly as I leave kisses scattered across his hips and abs, dipping close to where he wants me most. One of his hands weaves through my wet hair, tugging strands gently by the root and fingers pressing along my scalp. I sigh at his grip in my hair, relishing in the slight tug and warmth of his palm. Finally, I give into his wishes.

“Fuck,” he gasps as I take the head into my mouth. After a moment, I continue as I take a sharp breath in through my nose, and his voice continues in the air around us, “You take me so good.”

I give myself over to him, following the gentle direction of his hand as he guides me further down his cock. My hands grip his thighs, providing leverage as I rise on my knees for a better angle. Another string of groans falls from his lips as I take all of him, tip hitting the back of my throat as my nose brushes against him. I continue with slow movements, speeding up as his grip in my hair tightens and his groans increase.

“Baby, I-”

“Mate, you’ll never believe what Chloe di-”

Fuck. Lance’s hand remains heavy in my hair, but he uses it to help pull myself off him and my cheek presses against his thigh. Dread quickly pools in the pit of my stomach — he didn’t lock the connecting door.

“Have you heard of knocking?” Lance is breathless as he looks over his shoulder toward the door.

While Scotty can’t see me, he can most definitely see my knees beneath the couch, and it’s not hard to connect the dots. Lance’s thumb brushes my cheek to calm me. It all happens so quickly, but I notice how Lance’s immediate response was to hide me and save me any further embarrassment.

“Fuck, mate, I’m sorry,” Scotty sounds just as embarassed as I feel. “We’ll see you at dinner.”

I hear the door shut, and Scotty clicks the lock from his side of the door. I remain pressed to Lance’s thigh for an extra moment, relishing in the weight of his hand pressed to my cheek and the warmth of his skin. Silence ensues briefly as both of us process what just happened, and Lance is the first to speak up.

“Fuck, babe, I’m so sorry. I thought for sure I locked it, and I never even heard them,” Lance trails off.

I lift my head from his leg to look at him, and despite the red blush lighting up my face and ears, I grin at the absurdity of the situation. I lean forward to kiss his lips to get his apologizing to stop, and he settles into the kiss before I break away.

“Can you be quiet?” I ask quietly, straddling his hips with mine on the couch.

His cock still stands tall between us, and the tip is a blushed red. Lance nods his head gently, eyes wide as he tips his head abc to look up at me. He bites his lip as my hand wraps around him, and his large hands settle at my hips as I lean forward.

“We know the door’s locked now,” I whisper, lips brushing his.

“Fuck, you’ll be the death of me,” he breathes, hips stuttering into my hand. “I’m so close.”

My lips meet his to swallow the moans and gasps falling from his lips, and I relish in the warmth of his body beneath mine as my hand works quicker around his cock. I feel him twitch in my palm, and my movements slow. I break away from his kiss, and he looks pained as I pull my hand away.

“I want you to taste you,” I whisper before he can ask the question of why.

A string of curses falls from his lips, barely audible in the hotel room. I give him a moment to collect himself, reaching for the television remote to turn the television on. Some random show begins droning on in the background, and when I turn back to Lance, he has a confused look on his face.

“I don’t trust you to be quiet,” I grin, dropping the remote back on the coffee table.

He sighs heavily, watching every movement as I settle back on my knees in front of him. His hand works back into my hair, tugging at the roots, “You’re fucking perfect.”

His praise motivates me, and with a short warning, I take him all the way into my mouth. His tip hits the back of my throat, and with a few bobs, his hips stutter and his cock throbs. I look up at him to see him biting down on one of his knuckles, and his eyes squeeze shut as he finishes. I welcome every drop, and I let his hips still before I remove myself and rise from my knees. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand as Lance watches me in awe, eyes half-lidded and a lazy grin on his face.

“I don’t even care that we were caught. That was amazing,” his voice is raspy, and his hands pull me toward the couch and into him. “After dinner, I promise you I’m returning the favor.”

“You think dinner is still on?” I grin, relishing in his arm resting heavy across my shoulders and my cheek pressed into his chest.

“You think Scotty and Chloe would give up a chance to tease us?” he laughs quietly, squeezing my arm.

I groan into the fabric of his crewneck, “I cannot believe I just got caught sucking your dick by your future brother-in-law.”

Lance laughs gently, hugging me into his side, “Don’t worry about it, babe. If you let it bother you, they’ll never let it go.”

Lance’s phone dings with a text, and he reaches toward the coffee table to grab it. He bursts into laughter before holding the screen in front of my face.

Chloe Stroll James

Please make sure she knows I do not hate her and if anything I hate scotty right now for BURSTING into your room without even knocking.

Seriously Lance, she’s the best and I’m so mad at scotty.

Also, let’s never share a room with a connected door ever again please. We’re adults now, and while I love your girlfriend, I do not love knowing you have a sex life.

I laugh as I read the messages, and my laugher must carry through the walls as I hear Chloe on the other side laughing back at me.

“Feel better now?” Lance asks quietly.

I nod my head, “Feeling perfect. We’ll have to find different après ski activities, though.”

lance_stroll posted on instagram

liked by yourinstagram, chloestroll and 432,567 others

lance_stroll the alcohol wasn't the only thing keeping us warm ‼️

view all comments

gina_schumacher so cute you two! 💗 hope you enjoyed the snow

estebanocon lance no way you put this on the main

lance_stroll its the love for my lady estie

scottyjames31 so that's what I heard from down the hall... a whole lot of love

chloestroll I'm taking your phone from you yourinstagram chloe I think we leave both of them behind tomorrow

yourinstagram posted on instagram

liked by lance_stroll, scottyjames31 and 19,496 others

yourinstagram thank you lance for both making my toes numb and warming them back up❄️ (peep me and chloestroll at the end after scotty and lance left us behind)

view all comments

yourfriend he made them curl too didn't he

scottyjames31 🇨🇦🫡 lance_stroll my parents follow her on here you know

chloestroll no one I'd rather make snow angels with on the black diamond course <3

estebanocon can I get an invite next time? I clearly missed something

yourinstagram you're gonna need to get lance to bribe me to do this again lance_stroll mate call me 😭

#lance stroll smut #lance stroll fluff #lance stroll imagine #formula 1 imagine #formula one imagine #formula one smut #formula one fluff #formula 1 smut #formula 1 fluff

929 notes · View notes

bullet-prooflove · 1 year

Text

Sparring!Series Part 2: Home (NSFW)

Tagging: @the-adzukibean @xoxabs88xox @beardedbarba @crazy4chickennuggets @wooshwastaken @justreblogginfics @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @cosmic-psychickitty @misscharlielulu @multilin21 @burningtacozombie @sendmylcve @hrandomthoughts @niya12 @giuls-ver @witches-unruly-heart @beccabarba @ben-c-group-therapy

Part 1: Sparring

You barely made it back to your apartment. There had been a moment in the elevator where Nick would have happily screwed you right there and then. He thought about it as you stole slow, deliberate kisses from his greedy mouth, your playful hands teasing his throbbing erection through his pants. He was straining against the material almost painfully as the doors to you slammed the door shut behind you. There was an urgency in your ministrations, something that came with spending time apart. You couldn't wait any longer to be together.

Nick's fingertips were already pulling the tie from your hair so that it fell around your shoulders. The t-shirt and sports bra had gone by the time you reached the bed. You’d stripped his t-shirt from his taunt muscular body. The skin-to-skin contact made him almost delirious as your fingers trailed along the elastic of his sweats.

Nick's heated hands cupped your breasts. You moaned outloud as Nick stepped out of his sweatpants leaving him clad only in those clinging black boxer shorts. His cock was aching, straining against the confines of his underwear. It had been so long since he had made love to you, and he wanted you in ways that were savage and primal.

His hand plunged down the front of your leggings, bypassing your panties with ease. Already you were soaking wet, and he loved that eager sound you made as he allowed his thumb to caress that swollen nub.

Your head tipped back in ecstasy as his fingers entered you, curving ever so slightly to hit just the right spot. Your breathing hitched as Nick watched your expression turn to bliss. Your skin was on fire as he titillated you with his body. His tongue was in your mouth explorative and fierce as his free hand toyed with your left nipple, sending you into a frenzy. That intense feeling was building up in the base of your spine. Your cries were getting louder and louder. His lips ghosted along your jaw, his hot breath tickling your ear as he spoke in that low husky voice that you adored so much.

"Did you touch yourself thinking about me carino?" Nick questioned you, his desire overwhelming him. "Did you get off imagining me inside you?"

"Yes." You cried out, as he nipped on that extra sensitive area just under the hinge of your jaw. Your skin was flushing against him as he drove you even further towards your pleasure.

"Take your pants off and get on the bed." he commanded, his voice mingled with desire and authority.

Your smirk was mischievous as you crawled onto the plush bed on all fours. God, Nick loved this position. It gave him full control of your love making and the alpha male inside of him was baying it's approval at your wordless suggestion.

Nick removed his underwear before allowing his leaking member to tease along your core. His tip was pushing at your wet entrance, his hands were on your hips as he held you firmly in place, you arched trying to take him deeper. The noises you were making was music to his ears, your breathing was heavy and hitched at every single movement he made against your most intimate area.

"I jerked off every night thinking about fucking you like this.” he told you, his hand threading through your hair, pulling your head back as he inched inside you at an agonising slow pace before drawing out again.

“Fuck me." You begged him, the sheets were bundled up in your hands against the anticipation soaring through your body. "Please Nick."

"Do you realize what you do to me?" he growled as he thrust into your body in one long hard stroke. "You’re mine, all mine. No one else can ever touch you like this."

His words pulled at your heart strings, drawing out the intense euphoria as Nick pounded into you. You were trembling, the ecstasy riding up inside of you like a tsunami as he possessed every inch of your being. Your cunt gripped him, clenching around his cock like a velvet fist. His fingertips dug into your hips as he buried himself deep, spilling inside of you with a feral groan. His palm swept up along the curve of your spine, thumb skating over the nape of your neck. He didn’t want this moment to end, the feel of you around him, his heart singing because he was finally home.

Love Nick Amaro? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#nick amaro imagine #nick amaro #nick amaro x reader #nick amaro x you #amaro x reader

55 notes · View notes

pinkrelish · 2 years

Text

Ex!Reader x Ex!Obito

NSFW: afab!reader, smut, masturbation, edging, nude photos/videos, consensual recording, sexting, mentions of drug use

Words: 4k

It had been months since you broke up and Obito was feeling lonely.

Obito closed his laptop and shoved it off his chest, frustrated and pent up from searching for porn for nearly an hour to no avail. Nothing was working. The women in the videos weren’t into him. They didn’t moan his name. They didn’t lift their head from his lap and lock eyes with him as his fluttered closed. They didn’t have the same tenderness of holding his hand through a powerful orgasm after edging all week, praising him for covering their faces as a reward.

Sighing, he resigned himself to the one thing that got him off without fail and grabbed his phone from the folded hand towel beside him. Bringing it to his face, he scrutinized his reflection. Glancing at his eager eyes and messy hair disguised amongst the array of pillows on his bed. You hadn’t slept over in months, but he couldn’t justify getting rid of the ones on your side. Just in case.

Frowning at how pathetically horny he was, he unlocked the screen with a swipe of his thumb and eliminated the sad image. Sooner or later he’d untrain himself from this particular vice.. But tonight was not that night.

Opening his nightstand’s drawer, he pulled out a bottle of lube and set it on the edge of the table, eyeing the source of his troubles from over his phone. Erection surging at the sound of the cap popping open, knowing relief was imminent. Stretching his plaid boxers painfully taut. Begging to be freed.

Truth was, he’d never even tried to stop this habit. Not when you were a few taps away.

Obito maneuvered his thumb across the screen to his camera roll. Heart racing at the anticipation of release, pounding louder in his ears with each scroll. Hand wandering down his chest to palm the base of his cock, curling his thumb around and meeting his fingers through the fabric. Stroking once. Just a short little tease. Shaking it, wagging it like a dog waiting for its mouth-watering treat. Inner thighs tensing, tilting his hips upwards at the inadequate brushes of cotton over his needy tip.

His hand was nothing in comparison to what he really wanted, but he’d make do.

He started with the solo pictures of you. Thirst traps taken in front of your mirror, posing in strappy leather dresses before going clubbing with your girlfriends. A few of you in a low cut tank top rolling around in your plush bedding, staring into the camera all dreamy, smiling coyly at the almost-nip-slip. One or two of you in a bikini from the beach vacation your friend group took together years ago on Spring Break; the same day you swore you dropped something in the hotel hallway and bent over, brushing your round ass over his lap, accidentally stimulating him into a babbling mess of covering his hard-on before one of the guys noticed.

His cock throbbed into his palm, touching himself lightly, running his fingers in gentle circles over his swollen head at the memory of your mouth engulfing him that night after asking you out on a date.

Obito filled his chest with a sigh, bobbing the phone up and down where it rested on his stomach. His thumb hovered, allured to the next set of treasures he procured when you were dating. Naughty things he promised to get rid of months ago.

After the break up, you both mutually agreed to delete all private photos taken and videos made for one another while you were together, out of respect. Yet, here he was. Hoarding recordings of his past endeavors for his own pleasure.

He dove into his depravity. Tapped on the first video and pulled down the waistband of his boxers, letting loose an airy groan from the back of his throat as the full weight of his decision warmed his hand. He groped blindly at the nightstand, eyes on the video, and shushed his morals with a long squeeze of cold lube dripping over his twitching cock.

“Fuck,” he moaned, outloud and in the video as he was treated to delicate delights in the form of tongue and fingers.

“Mmm, you like that?” you asked with a faux whine of concern as his knees jerked, caging you in between his legs. The video was short. Taken in a hotel room on an unfamiliar bed. Obito was an amateur back then, unable to keep recording during his climax, but the scene was a stunner regardless; the way you looked up at him, eyes heavy-lidded with desire, lips swollen and glistening. Teasing him with flicks of your tongue on the underside of his tip. Suckling on the most sensitive part of him. Trying to edge him for fun, but as you found out in the next few seconds after the video ended, he’d never received head before, and even the smallest sensations of your lips tightening around his cock had his toes curling.

Busting in your mouth for the first time was one of his favorite experiences. No way he was getting rid of that video.

Properly warmed up, he slipped his hand up and down his shaft, slicking the lube in his grip and fondling his balls while he found another picture. Cupping his sac and swirling his hand over the thin skin, feeling their heft and patience; heightened senses standing his hair on end, pebbling his forearms in sensual goosebumps.

The next photos he flipped through were taken as a set. Kneeling on his bed with your legs spread wide. Wearing little else other than your hands as a bra and a strip of fabric that functioned as a poor excuse for a pleated skirt. The first two images were sexy, posing all sweetly for him. Smiling lopsided, tilting your head and averting your eyes like you were suddenly shy. The next three had him stroking from base to tip, lube squelching as he applied more pressure on the thrust up his length; twisting his wrist as he neared the end, working the muscles in his bicep.

On his screen was his personal heaven. You straddling him, skirt lifted to show him a peek of black panties stretched over the swell of your pussy. Taming his cock to lay flat while you grinded down on him. Dragging your hips back to hit the spot that had your mouth gaped open, hands on his chest, arms bringing your tits together right in front of his phone.

A lovely reminder of what he used to have. The intimacy of your weight bearing down on him. Your easy “I love you’s” whispered into his ear while cuddling and your morning “Wanna smoke before class?” texts. It was uncanny how similar you two were. How many shared interests you had. How compatible you were, both fiercely loyal to a fault. Wholly devoted to being there for each other.. Like best friends.

How he screwed up the one beautiful thing in his life was beyond him. Becoming way too chatty after a few beers and hurting your feelings in the worst way. Losing his girlfriend and best friend in one slurred speech questioning if your fling would last, or if you had a future together.

To your credit, you tried to remain friends with him, but the damage was done.

Obito closed his eyes for a moment and slowed the pace of his fingers gliding over his shaft. He took a deep breath and peered beyond his lashes at the messaging app, tapping it open and lighting him with an eye-searingly white background. His thumb hesitated over the keyboard. Thinking, and overthinking. Scanning the walls of texts and voice messages sent over the years, acknowledging the dwindle in frequency, and then the major gap in recent times as he scrolled up to when you two were together. Playing a few clips of your voice; unimportant memos about an assignment in class or whatever. Yearning for something, anything, new to appear as he returned to the bottom.

It was stupid. He was stupid.

He typed out a simple message. In a trance. Unaware of anything except his throbbing cock demanding some sort of connection.

Obito: hey

The message sent before he could think twice. And like an idiot, he waited for a response for the longest three seconds of his life before going back to his camera roll and selecting a video.

“Ah-Ah! Obi–to!” you gasped as he pounded the breath out of you. Laid out on his bed, tits bouncing out of your lacy lingerie in time with the relentless slaps of his hips on your ass. Digging your nails into his bruising hold on your hip to keep you steady on the edge of his mattress while he struggled to hold the phone still. Capturing the carnal elegance of your body writhing under him as you clenched around his cock, dropping your head back, vocalizing the second orgasm he gave you before he left for work.

Turning his thumb and forefinger into a circle, he assaulted the lipped edge of his tip with fast, greedy strokes. Mixing the leaking precum with lube. Mimicking the way your lips sucked him off time and time again. Causing his knees to bend, toes to curl into the sheets, and his hips to rise to the occasion. Bucking at the aggressive stimulation. Bring him closer, closer–

You: hey!

“Jesus!” Obito dropped his phone, startled by the vibration and ping.

Picking it up, the notification at the top of his screen slipped from view and his trembling thumb chased it, opening the message app and staring at the text. Reading it several times to really sink it in.

You replied.

Adrenaline heated his skin, stinging a deep blush across his ears and cheeks. Realistically, he knew there was no way you knew what he was doing, but he glanced around the room in shame to check no one was there and closed out of the video before attempting to answer.

Obito second guessed sending you a voice message in hopes you’d send one back–knowing he sounded far too winded to come across as normal–and started typing out something on the keyboard, when you texted him again.

You: i was just thinking about you

You: i’m wearing one of your shirts

Texting you was a spur of the moment act of weakness. But having it result in the best possible outcome had him fighting off a smile. He tapped out a message while his other hand was busying itself where it left off. Alleviating the ache in his abdomen.

Obito: which one?

An amusing alternative to the question he really wanted to ask: “What’re you wearing?” Not that his version was innocent; and he wondered if you would read it in his husky voice.

Waiting for your answer, he found another video to jerk off to. He didn’t view this one often due to the harsh noonday sun backlighting your silhouettes from where the phone was propped against a lamp, but there was something magnificent in watching your outline ride him on the living room couch before his roommates came home. Arms wrapped around the curve of your waist and passionate fingers learning the arch of your back like it was the key to his survival. Throwing your head back at the same time his lulled to the side.

You: hold on

You: this band tee you let me borrow

Oh yes, he knew exactly which one you were talking about before the photo even loaded. And, of course, once it did, his urges rose to a new level, increasing the long drags of his slick palm along his throbbing cock with renewed vigor.

It was a mirror selfie of you sitting on the edge of your bed in just the way he liked. Utilizing the dip in your mattress to spill your round ass on either side of your thick thighs. Hair tousled about your shoulders like you just woke up. Wearing his shirt, and only his shirt. Knotting your hand in the fabric to gather it around your waist.

This wasn’t immoral, right? Pleasing himself to something you sent apropos of nothing. Another thirst trap meant to tempt his blood flow elsewhere other than his brain. Sitting all innocent on your bed, yet your smirk said otherwise.

You: just realized it looks like i’m not wearing shorts

You: i promise i am lmao

Obito tucked his chin and expelled a low groan at the next photo. He kicked his legs out and drove his hips up in short thrusts, keeping his fist where it was. Grunting, starting to pant.

Seductive and sweet. You had gotten off your bed and sent him the most delicious shot of your backside. You followed up the selfie with the words “new silk pajama shorts,” as if he gave a damn.

On your tiptoes, twisting your hips and hiking his shirt up to show off your ass, he couldn’t decide where to zoom in first: the shadowy glimpse of underboob or your cheeks hanging out of what you generously called shorts. Brazen and unabashed. Practically naked, considering how tight they hugged your body, rewarding him with the marvelous contour of your pussy pressed firmly against the shiny black fabric.

A perfect recipe for reminding him of his favorite set of videos. A two parter.

Obito: nice

Obito: my shirt looks good on you

Obito: gorgeous, but you know that

He smiled at the silly messages, then began his dark descent.

The first video was.. ravishing, to put it lightly. Damning and unforgivable to put it honestly.

“Do you like watching me?” you lilted mockingly, pouting your bottom lip as he beheld you with only hunger in his eyes. He panned the camera to his twitching cock. Light glimmering off a pearlescent drop of need dripping from his tip, pleading to be touched. Then he snapped back to you, accusingly so. “Hm? Is this turning you on, baby?”

You circled your hips again, regarding him with half-lidded eyes, taking a long drag on the joint pinched between your fingers before handing it to him for his turn. He inhaled until the paper crinkled to ash, awashing himself in peace to cope with your torture.

Straddling him was nothing new. However, grinding your wet pussy on his cock while he was only allowed to look, not touch, was pure evil.

Your lips twisted into a wider smile at his pitiful search for relief. Keen to every insufficient drive of his hips back and forth opposite yours. Trying his best to entice you with the pressure of his tip grazing your clit, lifting the hem of your shirt in the process.

The dual exhales of smoke clouded the scant reveal of your cunt treating him to a few powerful ruts. Spreading your knees wider, stretching his band tee to the curve of your hips. Vigorous in your efforts to tease him at your entrance, and then withdraw before he had the opportunity to slip inside.

He clung to your thigh and begged for more friction. You punished him with a laugh, and reverted to the slow, agonizingly weak, circular grinds of your hips. Working his shaft. No longer interested in his tip outside of causing it to brush his stomach with each swirl, too light to ease the tension in his core.

Now that he was alone, there was no one to deny his climax. He wrung his warm fingers around the head of his cock. Each curve of his digits administered fluttery moans of pleasure. Fully immersed in a fantasy until, again, his phone alerted him to a text.

You: watching our show tonight like usual lol

The accompanying photo was, primarily, a point-of-view angle of you laying in bed with the TV in the background paused on the intro to the show you watched together numerous times. But it was framed in a way that had Obito drooling.

His shirt was bunched around your hips, fallen to the curve of your ass from your crossed legs. Bathed in shadows, but not a pair of silky shorts in sight. His perfect angel.

“Baby,” he sighed heavily at his phone and enlarged the photo before switching to his camera roll again, playing around with zooming in on your bare cunt just out of sight while the next video loaded.

“Babe,” Obito’s stern voice cut through the soft sound of your ass cheeks caressing his cock. Ordering you to comply with his needs.

“Nuh-uh,” you giggled, removing his hand from the crease between your thigh and hip, where he was using it as leverage to pull you further up his length to the sweet spot on the underside of his cock that would’ve had him cumming half an hour ago.

Your persistence, your cruelty, knew no bounds.

Your ass job was an act of downright wickedness. Exploiting the weakness of his favorite position with you on top, cowgirl style–yet, not fucking him. Only fucking with him. Stroking your sopping wet cunt stretched over his girth from base to almost-tip. Stopping at the point where the head of his cock poked out from between your cheeks. So close to cumming all over his stomach. Just a few more brushes of skin on skin contact.. But you never gave it to him.

Flustered at your proverbial slap on his wrist, Obito rolled onto his elbow, straining to keep the phone recording, while he reached around and teased you in his own way.

“I know you wanna cum, baby,” he said, smoke adding a rasp to his voice. You sucked in a breath and whined at his finger’s magic. Two soft fingerpads pressing on either side of your clit, circling. Matching the tempo of your hips grinding on him–harder, now. More urgent. Listening to his hand’s insistence and nestling his tip against your entrance, covering him in your arousal.

His high settled in. Tingling every nerve in his body. Feeling each touch with the intensity of a thousand suns. Accepting that in this lust-driven state, nothing would ever compare to the feel of your cunt stretched over his cock.

Obito flexed his strength. He laid back and caught your ass cheek in the palm of his hand mid-bounce and forced you to lean forward. Exposing your pussy for him to use as he wanted.

At first, he used his thumb to shove his cock between your cheeks and thrusted, sensing your muscles constrict around him at the thought of losing your game. Any time he lined himself up to enter, you rejected the notion of him getting his release, jerking away to deprive him, smirking over your shoulder.

You had denied him one too many times.

Shivering, crazed, and unsatisfied, Obito used his one hand to discipline you. He slapped your ass, grinning as you gasped and pitched forward, tilting your hips to the perfect angle for his thumb to slide his needy–swollen, aching, oversensitive–tip into your entrance and clasped onto your hip, slamming you into his lap. Sinking you onto his cock until it disappeared and your mouth gaped in a loud, vulgar moan of his name.

He moved you. He seized your waist and compelled you to ride him, guiding you up as he relaxed into the mattress and then bore down at the same time he clenched his ass and drove upwards. Sending you rocking on his lap in lewd, wet smacks. Never letting you ascend more than a few inches. Wholly fixated on cumming inside you.

Obito released an animalistic grunt, staring at his screen. Flipping from the video to the image of you on your bed. To the video, to you. To exiting out of the photo and letting the screen languish on the messaging app. Eyelids drifting closed and lips parting as he played the rest of the scene in his head.

Broken out in a sheen of sweat, he bent his knees and worked his heels into his blankets, bracing himself to recreate the best fuck of his life.

“Fuck,” he uttered, breathless, engrossed in his gratification. He clutched onto his phone and rested the back of his hand on his burning forehead. Focused on the one thing he earned after all this delay.

He pumped himself faster. Jerking his hips erratically. Losing the tempo, the force. Spasming. Each roll of his hips unique from the last as his thighs twitched and his toes curled. Quick slips of his fingers from his tip to an all-out frenzy of recreating the sensation of your cunt clenching around him as you brought yourself to orgasm, gushing on his length, enthralled with the way he bossed you around.

“Mm!!” He bucked into his fist, letting the rest of the video play out in his mind. Bringing you down on his cock one last time and filling your pulsing cunt with everything you deserved.

“I want to fuck you so fucking bad, baby,” he admitted one second, and the next, his chest was covered. Collapsing into his bed. Muscles gone limp. Weightless. Stroking half-hearted tugs, milking his cock. Body wracked with aftershocks. Shuddering in the wake of his finger grazing his overstimulated head. Relieved. Able to concentrate on anything else now that he was a satisfied, trembling mess of a man.

He let his phone slide and drop to the bedding while he used the towel to clean himself off and close the lube, putting it away. Breathing out his nose in a hum as the flush cooled from his skin.

Remembering he didn’t reply to your message, he lit up the screen, and unlocked his phone, rubbing the sleepy lust from his eyes, blinking into clarity the choices he made today to reestablish a connection to you, feeling validated you replied at all.

He brought his phone to his face. Blinked again. Read over the last messages sent. Shook his head thinking he’d lost his place in your exchange. Tried to scroll to the bottom. Tried to scroll to the bottom again.

His smile vanished.

“Oh.. Fuck.”

The 1 minute and 27 second WAV file didn’t budge.

~~~

“I want to fuck you so fucking bad, baby.”

…

“I want to fuck you so fucking bad, baby.”

…

“I want to fuck you so fucking bad, baby.”

Your legs clamped together, squirming. Fumbling to turn your vibrator up a notch. Rocking from the sheer bliss of reaching your peak to the sound of his gravelly voice playing over, and over, directly in your ear. Pressing your lips together and whining, wishing it was him doing this to you.

You gasped his name, missing the warmth of his arms embracing you as the tension waned from your body.

Coming down from your high, you turned off your toy and tossed it aside, taking heaving breaths, searching your sheets for your phone you displaced in the throes of your orgasm.

You closed out of the video you were watching before he sent the voice memo. It was one you promised to delete months ago, but.. Obito’s face just looked so good between your legs, making eyes at the camera as he blessed your clit with his tongue. It was prime self-love content; you couldn’t get rid of it.

Going back to the messaging app, you giggled. An absolute slurry of typo-ridden, panic-induced apologies followed the accidental recording of him cumming, moaning your name.

It was adorable. And hot.

You: want me to come over? i’ll bring a bowl to share

You found some jean shorts laying on your floor and slid them on, disregarding panties. In the mirror, you straightened out his band tee, and used your fingers to fluff up your hair, laughing at your own love-struck smile. You laced up your shoes and locked the door behind you.

Obito: yes

Obito: stay with me tonight

#obito x reader #obito #obito uchiha #obito smut #naruto #uchiha obito #obito uchiha x reader #obito x y/n #obito uchiha x y/n #reader insert #x reader #naruto fanfic #naruto smut #naruto fanfiction

459 notes · View notes

sweettodo · 3 years

Text

his friend.

armin x reader x eren.

[ one shot ]

includes : threesome, creampie, cuckolding, humiliation, dom armin, dom eren.

wc: 1.3k.

synopsis : pleasing his best friend— pleases your lover, be a good girl and help your boyfriends best friend.

a / n , thanks for 750 followers !

You're good for Armin, always trying to please him, you'd never object to his ideas— he and you both know you love them.

You know he loves you, making sure you're always grateful and taken care of, as he does in many ways.

Armin is a caring man, so selfless, so sweet.

Selfless enough to let his best friend fuck you, right in front of him.

“Are you sure about this, Armin?”

“I have to show him how good my princess is, yeah?” he coos, you smile, heart fluttering at the fact.

Sure you wanted to fuck Eren, but more than anything you needed to please Armin, the way he would praise you— tell you how good you were no matter what you did, you loved it.

Here you are — current time, dressed in a little skirt and a cute little blouse, sitting on Armin’s lap, Eren standing in front of you with his hand on your cheek, “you're gonna be a good girl for Eren, right princess?” you nod, biting on your bottom lip, Armin’s hands rubbing your bare thighs.

“So compliant, so good.” Eren commends, smirking.

“Stand up and bend over, so we can see you,” Armin whispers against your ear, you nod once more, easing off his lap.

You get on the bed, on your knees, turning away from Eren and bending over, arching your back, Armin brushing your hair out of your face whilst moving your skirt over your ass, “perfect, open those legs, baby girl.” Eren pushes open your thighs, “she's so wet already,” Eren compliments, feeling your plush ass underneath his palms, observing the panties— the wet spot only growing as Armin places his hand on your ass, aiding his best friend in spreading you open so they can get a better look at your pure little body.

“You like it when Eren touches you?” you nod.

You feel a hand grab your underwear from just below your tailbone, pulling them upwards, applying pressure on your screaming clit, gasping, you drop your head into the bed. Like a wedgie, they watch as your pussy is soaking every dry part of your panties it touches, and they're amazed.

Both of the mens’ cocks throbbing in their pants as they find it hard to resist. Armin leaving the bed, “I’m gonna fuck that pretty pussy first, kay’ princess?”

“Yes, Armin.” It tickles both men to see you so inclined to satisfy them, so fucking compliant. The bed dips down again, this time it's Eren, gently grabbing your shirt and lifting it over your head.

“Such pretty tits, she's gorgeous Armin.” Armin hums a small, ‘hmm’ in response.

You feel his fingers hook under your panties and pull them over your ass, “hear that? What do you say?”

“Thank you, Eren.” He reaches over your body and unsnaps your bra, you help him take it off and he throws it to the side.

“Amazing, fuckin’ perfect.”

You grow needy, pressing your ass back, meeting Armin’s waist, wiggling against his jeans, “don't act so deprived, baby girl.” He chuckles, he unzips his pants from behind you, “take care of Eren too, don't get selfish.”

Armin presses two fingers against your slit, collecting your slick and lubing up your folds, messily rubbing your clit as he's pushing his pants down below his knees, using your slick and wetting his stiff cock.

While Armin readies himself, you lift your head and follow his orders, reaching for Eren’s pants, fingers working his zipper. Armin’s cock rubbing against your pussy distracts you, he says your name lowly, as if warning you to pay attention.

In front of you, Eren is pulling his cock out of his boxers, “open,” you loll out your tongue, Eren sticking his two fingers into your mouth, making you gag, he chuckles, “gagging, already?” he uses your saliva to lubricate his cock, you take initiative and take his cock into your hand, looking up at him through your eyelashes, swirling your hand around the base of him while your tongue swirls around his tip.

Running your thumb over his tip to tease him, his head leaking precum, you’re so good at this.

You take him in your mouth, he groans, you keep your eyes on him, his hair falling to the sides of his face as he watches you; you push your head down slowly as far as it can reach, your throat adjusting to his size, clenching around him, saliva collecting as you thrust your mouth back and forth.

Armin finally relieves you, pressing his cock into you and instantly meeting his hips with your ass, not wasting any time to snap his hips against you.

Moaning around Eren’s cock, he becomes more disheveled, the vibrations of your weak and drowned-out moans and whines sending him into a frenzy.

Armin pushes into you, waits a few seconds, then pulls out, making sure he hits every nerve in your tight cunt, Eren grabs the back of your head and thrusts in and out of your mouth, using your hand to stroke what your mouth couldn’t reach.

Both of them are swearing and moaning out your name— both holes being abused as Armin splits you open with his cock, pussy gushing around him, squeezing, sucking him in deeper.

When Eren pulls out of your mouth, strings of spit follow, eye makeup smeared under your eyes from choking, as a result, your eyes spilling tears.

“You take Eren so good, such a good girl,” Armin groans, skin slapping, your eyes roll back when he repeatedly rubs his cock against your sensitive spots.

Armin never fails to make you feel good, nearing orgasm, he knows when to speed up— when to go slower, harder, he knows that cunt like the back of his hand.

Moaning mess, Eren has you pump his cock, trying to prevent himself from cumming in your throat instead of the pussy he's been begging his best friend to let him take a turn on.

“You want me to cum? Princess?”

“Yes— yes, Armin,” you beg, “in me— in my pussy please.” He grips your waist harder.

“Anything for you,” is all he can say, pounding into your cunt, making you dizzy, cock knocking into you, making you stupid.

“God— is Armin’s cock fuckin’ you good, sweetheart?” Eren purrs, your messy face, he pets your head, rubbing the side of your face with his thumb, “how ‘bout we keep a picture of that pretty face of yours.”

He reaches over to the bed stand, grabbing his phone, opening it, and aiming it right at your face; drool seeping down your chin, tears, and makeup, it was picturesque... For them.

You're too occupied to react, not that it really bothered you— Armin loves taking pictures of your face, so many emotions you had when getting fucked by him.

Armin, spilling a mantra of your name— cock twitching, hips sputtering as he throws his head back, nails digging into your waist deeper as he's unloading his hot seed deep into your beaten cunt.

Slipping out of your pussy, Eren impatiently gets off the bed, still painfully hard— he needs to get a feel of this pussy.

Eren pushes you onto your back, pinning your thighs against your stomach; with no hands, he's sliding into your cum filled pussy, his shoulders falling lax the second he feels the gripping pussy his best friend can fuck on the daily, he’s jealous even.

He aims down only slightly, watching as each thrust of his cock into your cunt, more of his best friends’ cum and your cream bathes his cock, making it so easy to slip in and it of.

“So fuckin’ tight, this pussy s’ so perfect.” He groans, legging go of one of your thighs, thumb landing on your tender clit, and rubbing small get powerful circles around the nub.

Your jaw slacks, Armin right beside your head, watching you take his best friends cock, “doing so good princess, so so good.” He rubs his thumb across your bottom lip, letting you suck on his thumb as Eren fucks you silly, thrusts drilling into you like an animal.

“Gonna fill up this pretty pussy,” he grunts, “gonna be stuffed with both our cum.”

“ ‘want it, please Eren—” incoherently spouting out nothings, “s’big, it's so big.” You cry, Armin’s face twisting into a devilish grin.

“Can't take it? Princess?” you nod.

“I can, I can,” you object.

Eren fucks into you so hard you can't even catch your breath, panting like a dog, Armin watching you, watching his best friend dump his load into your pussy.

Cum spilling from your pussy, Armin quickly gets off the bed, phone in hand, “leaking little cunt— stuffed full.”

The camera snaps, your boyfriend's fingers scooping the cum slipping down your ass and scooping it back into your beaten cunt.

“That'll remind you who's pussy this is.”

#armin x reader #eren x reader #armin x reader x eren #eren x reader x armin #eren aot #armin aot #armin smut #eren smut #lemon #attack on titan #eren jaeger #smut #aot #attack on titan smut #eren yeager #eren jeager smut

712 notes · View notes

xuxishortcake · 3 years

Text

ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ

John Mayer - Your body is a wonderland

¹:⁰³ ──♡──────³:³⁰

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : your boyfriend, Taeyong has been worn out due to working hard on his latest comeback & you just wanna appreciate him & tell him how much you love him <3

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 : sub!idol Dom!reader smut , angst ? some pretty cute fluff : 3, cursing , cream pie, cunninilingus, handjob , blowjob , praising

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 1.7k

hey everyone! this is my first official ff, so pardon me if there's Grammer errors, spelling mistakes, etc. I got inspired to write this while listening to "your body is a wonderland." I just love the soft, morning sex feel of the song & wanted to turn it into a ff. I'm not sure if I'll be an active poster , but I did have fun while writing this & making up stories is a hobby of mine so we'll see. feedback is very appreciated, & enjoy!! :3

♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥

it was a pleasant Sunday morning & you woke up a little earlier than usual to the sound of birds chirping. You rubbed your eyes to adjust to the light streaming through the semi transparent curtains. next to you, lay your peacefully asleep boyfriend, Taeyong. {damn,} you thought, {even while sleeping he's just breathtaking to look at. God really does have favorites huh.} it made you smile to see him look so tranquil.

the night before, he came in the apartment quite fatigued since he had been out all day, practicing for his group's newest comeback.

"hey bubu," you said as you stood up from the couch you were sat at. you walked over & you hugged him. "how was everything today? any new progress?"

"mmm, everything's going along well, just a little tired because the recording session was a bit hard. I'm just glad to be back home & hugging you." he said while putting his head in the crook of your neck.

"you seem tired, baby." you reply, moving your fingers through his hair "want me to make you some tea maybe?"

"yeah, that'd be great. I'm just gonna go lay down on the bed for a bit. " he smiled tiredly, putting his backpack & shoes next to the door.

you went into the kitchen to get a kettle onto the stove. once it started boiling, you poured it into two small mugs for the both of you, added the tea bags & stirred in some honey. you left for the bedroom & came in to see Tae curled up, fast asleep on the bed. you sighed, a bit sad & put down the cups onto the night stand next to the bed & sat down besides him. you glanced at the clock on top of the night stand, 9:55 PM. makes sense he was tired, he left pretty early in the morning. however, you wanted to talk to him at least for a little bit more since it felt like the two of you hadn't had a conversation or even really cuddled in so long for his job was keeping him very occupied. sure you both texted back & forth while you could, but it just didn't feel the same as actually being there together. it wasn't too long before his comeback would be present, but then again, he'd be busy with promotions. a bit crestfallen, you slipped out of your clothes, went to get washed & had gotten into bed.

back to the present, you were thinking of how nice it was just to be close to him & know you could finally have a day where you could both just enjoy each other's company. you knew you wanted to do some extra special caring for him. knowing how he's been so hard at work was a sign he's in need of some extra special lovin'. you felt like you hadn't been able to tell him how much you loved & appreciated him, & now, you felt like you could finally do it. you snuggled up closer to him, gently put your hand onto his face & started caressing him. Taeyong 's nose scrunched & his eyes fluttered open.

"good morning bubu. " you said, continually stroking his cheek with the tips of your fingers. "sleep well?"

taeyong smiled & stretched a bit. "yeah, I feel well rested. how about you?"

"same same. I'm just glad you don't have to go anywhere today. I've missed being able to be with you. "

"I'm sorry I fell asleep so quickly last night y/n. I just wanted to lie down since I felt so drowsy but I dozed off like an idiot & didn't get to talk to you while I had the chance. I feel so bad since I feel I've been terrible at spending time with you & actually being a boyfriend. " he looked down glumly.

"no, baby, it's fine. it's understandable since you've been going pretty hard lately, & we have all day today so : )" you assured him pressing a small kiss on his forehead.

you smiled & held his cheeks between your hands & kissed his lips ever so gently. he kissed back, & you started to kiss back a little bit harder. before you knew it, things were starting to get really heated. you had slid your tongue over his lips as an ask to come in, & he happily let you in. that cute little bubblegum tongue of his sure knew how to get you riled up, cause damn, was he a good kisser. tongues playing harmoniously while softly panting. you broke out of the deep kissing to kiss his cheek & then started to leave kisses all along his sharp jawline. you climbed on top of him & worked your way down his neck, leaving a plush trail of kisses with him sighing softly. your hands trailed down his stomach & onto his forming hard on. starting to slowly stroke his covered bulge, you now moved your lips to his nipple, giving a few light licks, giving you great joy to hear the sweet little whimpers that were coming out of his mouth. you started to work faster with your tongue & hand. you lightly dragged your tongue down his abdomen & hooked your fingers around the waistband of his boxers & pulled them off. his cock sprung up & slapped against his stomach. the tip was sore & red, glistening with precum, which made you lick your lips in anticipation. slowly, you started to stroke it,from the base & squeezing a bit once you came to the top. you began to pick up the pace, taking in your boyfriend's pretty flushed face, begging you to touch him more.

"fuck tae, your body is like a wonderland. you're so beautiful. "

he started blushing at the compliments, hand slightly against his mouth , & that just made you want to do more. you stopped stroking his length & he whined at the lack of friction, trying to buck his hips in the air. however, you had a firm grip on his left thigh & wouldn't let him. you moved further down his body, until your head was in between his thighs. you started leaving kisses & bites all along his inner thighs. reaching to his dick, you placed a quick kiss on the tip & started giving a few kitten licks.

"fuck y/n,you're such a tease. " taeyong panted out.

"I'm just trying to savor every moment of this baby ♡" you said smirking since you knew what you were doing to him.

finally, you took him whole & he groaned out loud. bobbing your head up & down, his tip sometimes reaching the back of your throat, making you moan & send out vibrations, which made him moan right back . chest heaving & eliciting pretty moans , his back was slightly arched & his hips were pushed up a bit, but you made sure he was held put. he practically melted by your hands, & it was amazing to feel you had this much power over him. you could tell he was reaching his limit, & you got off of him with a *pop*. you were about to position himself into your entrance when he grabbed your wrist.

"no....not yet. I want you to feel good too. please, sit on my face. "

"ok, I'll let you since you've been a pretty good boy." you say as you crawl up onto him. you lower yourself slowly above his face & he holds your thighs in place. he takes one long lick across your slit, savoring it as if it tastes like candy & starts eating you out like he'll never be able to do it again.

"you're so pretty, y/n" he says against you, nose deep into you.

"ah fuck, & you're so good at this tae." you say tugging onto his hair, trying tohold back moans.

the way he eats you out is unbearably good. his tongue, gliding along your vulva , up & down & making circle motions on your clit gets you feeling so high. you felt yourself coming to a reach, & taeyong could see it & started to go even faster. your thighs started to shake in the euphoric feeling & you held his hair as he continued lapping up your juices until you told him to stop. finally, you got down off of his face & positioned yourself. you lowered yourself down onto his firm cock. "ohhh" taeyong let out a deep groan, relieved he was finally getting attention on him again. you stretched your torso across to pin his hands above his head & slowly started to move, your hips going perpendicular. moving your head towards him, you went back in for more kissing. tongues entangling & beads of sweat falling down in between your foreheads. having a tight grip on both his hands, you started going at a quicker pace, drawing out more moans from tae.

"oh my god. I'm close, y/n." taeyong moaned out against your lips with his hands starting to tremble.

"ok baby. you can cum." you replied, increasing the movements of your hips & pushing your lips into a deeper kiss with his. you felt his thighs starting to quiver & his hips bucked up deeper into yours, warm cum spilling out from inside you. you both rode it out together until you started to pant. not moving anymore,you were still on him with a bit of cum dripping out of your pussy, creaminess covering his cock. you rose up & got some tissues to clean the both of you. after that, you laid down next to him. him turning to meet your face & his chest still rising.

"it doesn't matter how long we've been together, you still manage somehow to make my heart race with every breath you take." taeyong said, a bashful little smile creeping onto his face.

"well, you never fail to make me smile at your sappy commentary." you giggled, running your hands through his messy hair. "you're pretty cute too."

"I can't believe I get to date someone as angelic as you." he said, snuggling his head into your chest, arms wrapping around your waist.

"ha, you make my heart flutter, really. I'm so lucky to have you. " you cuddled him back, hands on the back of his head, gently caressing him.

"love you, y/n"

"love you too, yongie" you replied smiling, savoring the intimacy of the moment.

416 notes · View notes

pilothusband · 3 years

Text

just like magic

Rating: M (18+ only!)

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader

Warnings: Smut, copious amounts of nipple play, what are plots

Word count: 1.3k

Description: Movie night turns into something completely different

Author’s note: Idk I’m just horny for Frankie Morales 24/7. Please go here to be added to the taglist. Not beta’d, lightly edited. I just wanted to get this out tbh.

Watching movies with Frankie had always been one of your favorite things to do, even before you had started dating.

You had to admit, tonight’s movie was pretty boring— you hadn’t even remembered the name of it, something Frankie had randomly picked from Netflix. You weren’t about to complain, though, because nothing made you feel more content than being cuddled up into Frankie’s side, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

His fingers were trailing a slow pattern up and down your arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You let out a contented sigh, nuzzling further into the warmth of Frankie’s flannel shirt. A small huff of laughter rumbled through his chest. You loved his laugh, so low and husky. A pang of heat simmered low in your belly.

“Mmm, baby, feels good,” you breathed, as his fingertips skimmed over your collar bone. Your breath hitched as his touch danced down your chest, in between your breasts, nipples pebbling in response.

His hot mouth trailed kisses along your hairline as his thumb caressed the underside of your breast through your shirt. You tensed in anticipation as his thumb inched closer to your nipple, gasping as it made contact.

His other hand found your other breast kneading it in his hand and pinching your nipple. Your face was pressed into the side of his neck as you keened, arching your back.

He paused his movements and you had to force yourself not to whine in response. Frankie lifted the hem of your t-shirt and you lifted your arms, allowing him to peel it up and off, depositing it on the couch.

You settled back into his chest and arched, giving him unfettered access to resume his ministrations. He let out a low groan at the wanton display and rolled your nipples in between his fingers, his touch light as a feather but wrecking you all just the same.

“Fuck, baby, you really like this, don’t you?” His breath was hot in your ear.

“Yes,” you panted. You felt so close already and he had hardly touched you.

Frankie removed one of his hands to caress your plush lower lip and you opened, sucking his digit into your mouth, letting your tongue curl around it. He removed it after a moment and trailed it back down to your pert nipple.

“Oh fuck, Frankie,” you were squirming around in his lap, desperate for some friction. “Want your mouth.”

He paused, all movement stilled, taking in your request. You immediately felt self conscious and tried to sit forward. Frankie grabbed onto your torso, his hands big and warm. He turned you so you were facing him, brushing your hair back tenderly.

“You want my mouth?” He rasped, his dark eyes taking in the sight of you, fully debauched, chest heaving. He sounded just as wrecked as you felt. His eyes made a path down to your breasts, your nipples were straining towards the ceiling, impossibly hard. Francisco Morales always managed to rile you up, but this was something new for you both, something uncharted.

His fingers were tracing soft patterns into your skin, calming any trepidations you had a moment before.

“Fuck yes, baby. Please.”

That was all he needed to hear before he hauled you over to the arm of the. couch and adjusted his body so he was laying next to you, your chest now at the perfect angle for him.

The first lick was tentative– just the tip of his tongue reaching out to have a taste. He groaned at the same time as you did and fastened his lips to your nipple, sucking it into his mouth and curling his tongue around the hardened bud.

Your hips rolled up towards him, not quite reaching the destination you were hoping for because of the angle. Frankie got the message, though, and slid his hand down your leggings, immediately seeking out the sensitive bundle of nerves.

It was as if lightning had struck you as your body jerked in response. The moan you let out was needy and desperate. His mouth felt amazing as he alternated between sucking your nipples into his mouth and lapping at them.

The soft curls of his har tickled your neck deliciously, you carded your hands through it, needing to feel the strands in between your fingers as you tugged softly. You studied the way his eyes were closed in rapture, his brow knit in concentration.

You moved your hand down to his shoulder, his chest, then his belly, searching out the bulge in his jeans and squeezing it. He moaned around your nipple and bucked into your palm.

There was something incredibly electric about this moment. Frankie was still working furiously at your clit, juices dripping down his fingers as he suckled on your breasts. You don’t know why you had felt embarrassed when you asked initially, Frankie clearly was enjoying this as much as you were.

You knew you didn’t have much longer before this sent you over the edge, and you wanted to make Frankie feel good, too. You did your best to get his fly down with shaking fingers, unbuttoning his jeans. He somehow managed to push them down with his boxer briefs while his mouth remained fastened to your nipple.

You could feel his sigh of relief against your chest as your hand wrapped around his cock, hot and hard and already leaking precum. You took advantage, circling your hand around it to spread it around the tip of him, down to his base. This was when you started pumping at him in earnest, the best that this angle could allow.

“You’re doing so good, Frankie baby,” you praised, loving the high-pitched whine that ripped out of his throat as he fucked into your hand.

He continued lapping and sucking at your nipples, alternating between the two. His movements were becoming a little sloppier as he became more frenzied.

“Love your mouth on my tits like this,” you breathed, continuing, “you’re so good for me.”

He let out another groan and bucked. He was so composed when he had started to tease you tonight, but now he was a man completely and totally wrecked, all because of you. That thought, coupled with the delicious swipe of his tongue and the vision of your gorgeous boyfriend worshipping your tits, was what did you in.

You felt it building and building, your moans becoming a little higher, a little needier and then all at once– the wave crashed. Every muscle in your body tensed up as the wave after wave came in. Your legs were shaking uncontrollably. Frankie rode you through it, his mouth not leaving you once.

The hand that wasn’t on his cock went back to his hair, soft and slightly damp. He was still bucking into you desperately, unable to get enough of the feel of you around him.

“That’s it Frankie, I’ve got you, baby,” he whimpered at the praise, continuing to lap at your tender breasts. He thrusted his hips wildly and then tensed as he came with a loud, muffled groan.

Frankie gave one last kiss to your nipples, slick with spit and swollen from all the attention they received. He nestled his nose into your neck, trying to catch his breath. You were both boneless, stretched out on the couch, giving yourselves a few moments to recover.

Frankie eventually sat up and pulled you up with him, handing your shirt back to you. You opted to throw it aside, not wanting to put it on back yet, which made Frankie grin, his dimple you loved so much on display.

“We’ve got to watch bad movies more often,” he said, giving a tender kiss to your forehead. You hummed in agreement, kissing the bare patch on his beard. The movie was still playing in the background, but neither of you really paid it any mind, too wrapped up in each other.

Taglist: @tenderclio @softdin @darnitdraco @freeshavocadoooo @recklessworry

#frankie morales #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #triple frontier #pedro pascal #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie catfish morales #catfish morales

212 notes · View notes

anyoneseenadam · 3 years

Note

i just read your fenrys fic and omg it’s so so good!!! i love your writing so much!! i was wondering if you could write a fenrys smut? ur smut pieces always hit different and ur one of the only people that i’ve found that writes for him

pairing: Fenrys x reader (throne of glass)

warnings: lots of smut, like this is filthy, lil bit ddlg dynamic but defo dom/sub overtones, daddy kink, spit kink, creampie, size kink, praise kink, degredation, bulge kink, overstimulation, not proof read so may have grammar errors sorry :))

a/n: okay my kinks rlly jumped out phew. this is pure filth but I hope you enjoy!! also thank you, fenrys is my fave and I think you can tell <33 (also Fenrys is the only character I would let baby me the rest can choke) (jkjk love them but still)

------------------------------------------------------------

“Gods you smell so good,” Fenrys breathed in your ear, his voice rough and deep as his hands circled around your waist.

“Daddy, we’re in public,” you complained leaning back into his arms as he pressed dizzying kisses into your neck.

“I know baby, we should get home soon. I can smell your panties getting wet, what are you thinking about huh?” you whined as he pulled away, his bulking size no longer pressed against your back as he pulled you away from the stall of rings you had been looking at. You grabbed his hand in both of yours and followed, tugging his hand so he would slow his pace, your legs not keeping up with his long strides.

“You daddy,” you answered meekly, and he grinned down at you, the sight of his canines making you whimper as you thought of the bite marks trailing your inner thighs.

“Good girl,” he whispered into your hair as he tugged you into his side, pressing a kiss to your head and keeping you tucked in tight as the two of you walked home.

The house you lived in was a sharp contrast to the palaces your friends lived in. It was a small stone cottage with a thatched roof and big garden, filled with vegetables, plants and flowers. Along with the cherry blossom tree the two of you had planted after the war, the sight always making you smile. Inside the cottage was the soft, book-filled, and blanket covered interior of your dreams. Everything was in shades of baby pink, sage green or brown, with hand knitted, crème-coloured blankets and homemade scented candles. There were also many crystals dotted about the house, your wolf an avid believer in the power of the moon, while you simply turned to them for comfort and strength.

Today as you entered your haven however you didn’t get a chance to breathe in the rustic, flowery smell, barely finding time to pull off your boots and long coat before Fenrys was throwing you over his shoulder and carrying you through to the bedroom.

You were thrown on your bed, landing on the plush pink cushions with a squeal and a laugh when the bed springs squeaked. Fenrys was quick to climb over you, covering your body with his as he kissed you deeply, his right thigh pushing between yours. You mewled and started rutting into his thigh, desperate for some relief, barely able to go a day without touching your mate anymore.

Fenrys cooed at you, “So desperate for me aren’t you baby, do you need daddy to help you?”

You nodded, crying out as he pressed his thigh harder against your covered cunt. “Need you so bad daddy!” you whined, and he chuckle, kissing away your pout as you clung to his neck.

“Patience little one, let’s get you undressed first,” he pulled off you abruptly and you whined as he picked you up, so you were standing, and began unbuttoning his shirt. You were quick to pull off you clothes, hands fumbling with the back of your dress until Fenrys unzipped it for you, when you were just in your bra and panties he pulled you onto his lap, kissing you deeply again. You trailed your hands over his expansive chest, feeling his impressive muscles and rutting in his lap slightly as you moved to straddle him. You kissed for a few more minutes, Fenrys tongue completely dominating your own as he groped your ass greedily with one hand and tangled the other in your hair, tugging lightly when you moved too much.

“Lie down baby, daddy’s gonna eat that sweet pussy now,” he said, and you moaned into his mouth, hastily moving back, and lying on top of the white blanket you had knitted pink hearts into. He smiled at you as he moved between your legs, slowly pulling your panties down and bringing them to his nose, inhaling your scent.

“Daddy don’t its embarrassing!” you exclaimed but he silenced you with a look,

“You never need to be embarrassed in front of me bunny, you know this,” he told you off and you frowned, nodding as he threw the panties away. He spread your legs for him, hooking the left over his shoulder as he moved in closer and smiled at the sight of your glistening pussy on display for him.

“So pretty baby,” he cooed, and you smiled, not forgetting your manners.

“Thank you daddy.” He smiled up at you before leaning in a licking a stripe up your pussy with a flat tongue making you squeal. He started sucking on your clit gently, easing you into it as he kept your legs spread with huge hands. His teeth ran over your clit gently and you moaned loudly, knowing he liked it when you were responsive for him and made the sounds he wished he could lap up.

Your hands fisted the soft bedsheets as he moved down, his tongue probing into your tight hole as his index finger came up and started rubbing soft circles on your clit. His thick tongue worked into you and he moaned at your taste, wishing he could bottle it and get drunk of you every night. The vibrations went through you like shock waves, and you cried out, grabbing his golden hair in your fist as your hips bucked up, legs shaking.

He pulled back, pressing kisses into your thighs, his lips and chin glistening with your essence, but he was soon diving back in and eating you like a man starved. He went back in with increased vigour, slurping at your folds and trying to drink from your endless supply of nectar. The thumb that had been making soft circles on your clit moved down and he pressed a finger into you, his cold hands creating a sharp contrast with your hot core. He slowly started pumping it in and out of you with a distinctive squelching sound.

“Daddy!” you cried out as he pushed in a second finger, the stretch hurting only for a second or two until pleasure took over your body, “Daddy, I’m going to come, please please can I come?” you begged, hips jolting as he dragged your clit between his teeth.

“Mmm wait baby,” he commanded, and you gripped the sheets tighter under your hand, your head thrashing from side to side as you held back from cumming. Fenrys added a third finger making you scream as he pumped them harshly in and out of your pussy, lips never releasing your clit from it’s beautiful torment.

You could feel your body heating up and you got nervous, never liking to come until you were allowed, Fenrys made it very clear that you weren’t allowed to do that, but you were struggling to hold on.

“Daddy! I need to come please! I can’t hold it,” you sobbed as he pulled his lips from your clit, replacing them with the rough pad of his thumb.

“Cum then baby, I wanna taste you,” he smirked as you mewled, legs shaking as you clenched around his fingers, cumming all over his hand with a silent scream. Fenrys pulled his fingers from you but continued to lap at your abused pussy until you were pushing his head away, too overstimulated.

When Fenrys sat up he smiled down at your worn out form, cock hard and straining against his boxers as he licked your essence clean from his fingers. He pulled his boxers down and discarded them, gaining your attention as you reached a small hand to his cock, wrapping your dainty fingers around it and pumping slowly. He moaned and enjoyed your touch for a few minutes before he was pulling back, settling between your legs and pushing into your tight hole, the two of you groaning as he slid to the base.

You felt so full, his huge cock pushing just right against your walls, your pussy hugging him so tightly as he began rutting into you.

“Fuck, I forgot how good you were for daddy. Hmm? Just his little slut, his little baby, you’ll let me take you whenever won’t you.” You babbled out pleas, unable to form a thought as he started pounding you into the mattress, “Look at you, such a good baby, so good for me. Always hug me just right, keep me so warm babygirl.”

“Daddy I need…” you cried but Fenrys cut you off.

“I know what you need and right now it’s to take my cock like the good little girl you are.” His hips were hitting your at a bruising pace while one hand came to tug your tits out of your bra, pulling it down just enough to free them to him as he reached down and wrapped his lips around your nipple, tugging at it with his teeth. Your legs were wrapped around his lean waist and with every thrust his pubic bone rutted against your clit making you cry out.

“Are you going to come already baby? Can feel you clenching around me, so needy just a cock drunk slut,” he pounded into you and you sobbed, pleasure taking over your body.

“I’m going to come daddy!” you cried out.

“Do it baby, let go. I want to feel you soak me,” he demanded, and you fell apart around him. your back arched of the bed and your hands clawed at him back as you released over his dick, cunt pulsing around him and tightening even more than it already was.

He slowed his thrusts but didn’t pull out as you came down from your high, rolling over onto his back so you were sat on his cock. You looked at him with wide eyes at the change in position, his cock being pushed impossibly deeper into you and making you mewl.

His gaze trailed down your body as he removed your bra, stopping when he saw a bulge in your stomach, cooing at you. “Oh baby, you poor thing, I’m all the way in you, can you feel me that deep bunny?”

You nodded at him, unable to form coherent sentences as you struggled to stay upright on his cock. “C’mon baby, bounce for me hmm? Ride me baby I know you can.”

You tried to lift your hips, only pulling halfway up before you sank back down, crying out from the overstimulation.

“You can do better than that baby,” he urged you on and you tried again, pushing up with your hands splayed on his chest, tits in his face. This time you managed a few more thrusts before you were practically collapsing onto his chest.

“Such a dumb baby, so cock drunk can’t do anything without daddy’s help.” Fenrys was smiling at your worn out form as he bent his knees, digging his heels into the mattress and wrapping his huge arms around your form, holding you close as he started fucking into you roughly.

The constant pounding of his hips was all you could think of, your mind completely blank. You were completely consumed by him, his smell, the taste of his sweat on your tongue, the feel of his rough, callused hands rubbing over your back and the fullness that came from being stuffed with his cock. You were soaking wet, dripping down his cock and balls, onto the bed and the smell of your essence was everywhere, driving Fenrys insane as he forced your body up and down his cock.

Your body had turned to putty as he used you as he pleased, his thrusts getting sloppy as he got nearer his release, the clenching of your pussy giving away that you were just as close.

“I’m gonna come baby, gonna fill you up till I’m leaking out of you, I wanna watch you leak me, wanna feel it.” you moaned into his ear at his crude words.

“Do it daddy! Fill me up please!” you sobbed out as you came around his cock, crying out as he slammed into you one final time. You felt his cum fill you, leaking out of you and down his cock as the two of you tried to catch your breaths after your powerful, bone shaking orgasms.

You looked up from your place on Fenrys chest and smiled softly at him as you leaned up to kiss him sweetly in thanks.

“Such a good girl,” he whispered against your lips and you giggled. He shifted and slowly pulled out of you, making you whine at the loss of contact. He stood and walked to the bathroom, grabbing a washcloth and wiping himself down before kneeling in front of you and wiping you down too. He pressed a final peck to your pussy and you let out a breathy whimper, reaching out to him with grabby hands as he pulled on a pair of boxers before climbing back into bed, falling asleep with your head on his chest, content.

#throne of glass #tog #fenrys moonbeam x reader #fenrys x reader #fenrys moonbeam

195 notes · View notes

rreyie · 3 years

Text

𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙡𝙙 𝙚𝙮𝙚𝙨- 𝙖𝙤𝙩 𝙨𝙢𝙪𝙩

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: after three years of not seeing eren due to his buisness in marley, you reunite with him only to find he isn’t the same person anymore, but the one thing that hasn’t changed is his desire for you.

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: smut! hair pulling, spanking, hate (?) sex, eren being an asshole, MAJOR season four/manga spoilers, vaginal, orgasm denial, overstimulation, fingering, oral (male receiving), f! anatomy reader, dom! eren, sub! reader

𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙚: smut/ nsfw

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨: eren yeager, reader insert

𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚: i really struggled with what to name this, but i still think it turned out fine. this may be the dirtiest thing i’ve written so far but anyways, eren stans come get y’all juice

——————————————————————————

it had been three whole years since you had last seen eren. as much as you missed those emerald green eyes giving you a playful glare from across the room, you certainly did not miss his careless demeanor.

it had happened after the girl shot sasha, your best friend. as you laid there sobbing on the floor, all eren did was laugh. no comfort. no “i’m sorry.” just a half hearted chuckle from that asshole of a man.

as you put her body in a different room, you walked out of the dimly lit airship to see eren sitting on some sort of box. through that mane of chocolate brown hair, you saw those emerald eyes again, only this time, they weren’t as youthful as they once were. they were tired. drained. dull. you didn’t know how else to describe that look.

“whatcha starin at?” he asked. his voice was barely audible.

your cheeks still red and eyes puffy from crying, you sniffle and manage to speak some words. “i’m looking at the jackass who was laughing at my best friend dead on the floor.”

eren chuckles. “i see nothings changed over the last three years, huh?”

you look away from him. you couldn’t bare to look eyes with him, especially now. he touches your arm. “come on now, look at me. i missed you.”

you swat his arm away. “shut the fuck up. why did you laugh? in a time that i needed you most you just sat there and laughed?”

eren laughs again. “haven’t you forgot, dear? i can see everything. i knew sasha was going to die before it happened.” you couldn’t stand his shit anymore. you jerk your body to face him, and raise your arm, looking directly into his eyes. you throw a punch at him, aiming directly for his skull, but his calloused hand stops you, making you look weak.

“heh, let’s not get too hasty here, dear-“

“quit calling me that damned nickname!” you shout at him. “i can’t talk to you right now. i’m going to bed.” his arm releases it’s grip on yours, and you angrily storm off into your resting place in the airship.

another few days passed, and you were coming back from the memorial service held for sasha. as you took off your army great coat, darker spots staining it from the rain pattering outside, a figure towers over you.

you look up and make contact with the entity, now figuring out that it was no other than yours truly, eren.

“well, want to talk now?” he asks. his voice was monotone, like nothing happened at all. you throw your coat onto a nearby chair, and storm upstairs to your room.

you eneter the room, which was pitch black, your tear-ridden eyes not processing anything you see. only a blurry mess of shadows and highlights. you throw yourself onto your bed and curl into a fetal position.

you wanted to throw up. first your best friend dies, and then your relationship was going down the drain... on top of that a world war was happening right before your very eyes.

a cold hand is pressed onto your back. you jolt at the contact, and see erens face looking down at you. you hadn’t taken the time to notice that he had cleaned up nicely, hair in a bun and cleanly shaved.

as your head tilts upwards, he presses his lips to yours, the unfamiliar sensation making your lips tingle. you let out a small moan and feel erens mouth curl upwards.

“well, i can tell even if you didn’t miss me, you sure missed my cock.” eren says. this statement caught you off guard, and your cheeks flushed red. eren snickered, and continued to kiss you. eren inserted his slick tongue into your mouth, pushing and pulling your tongue in all different directions, mixing your saliva with his.

erens hand moved south, his finger just grazing upon your clothed womanhood. though your area was covered, you could still feel the friction of his finger and the fabric. he began to slide his hand inside the flimsy waistband of your pants and cupped your delicate womanhood.

letting out a soft moan at the contact, he began to grope and squeeze you in all the right places, and ran his index finger along your wet folds, already soaked with your slick.

“wet for me already, ain’t’cha princess?” he growls into your ear, warm breath sliding upon the exposed flesh of your neck. he moves his lips to your neck, and begins to gently suck, eager to mark you, similar to how an animal marked its territory. the gentle suction made you like putty in his arms, and you leaned into his chest. his heartbeat was beating right into your ear, giving you a sense of security.

unexpectedly, a finger slips into your walls. an “a-ah~” elicits through your lips. you shifted your hips to desperately try and feel full, even though only one narrow finger was inside you.

“only good girls get two fingers”, eren says. “are you gonna be a good girl for me? hm?” eren pushes his finger inside you more, hitting the plush sweet spot that was nestled inside you. you let out a pathetic little whimper as eren stretched you a little further.

“y-yes...” you stammer. eren began to pump his two fingers into your tight hole, as he felt his own arousal course through his veins, the fiery sensation talking over him and pulsating though him, going straight to his dick.

your thighs began to tremble as you were about to feel your orgasm, but then, right when you were on the cusp of reaching bliss, he carefully but slowly took his fingers out, his coated in your juices. he sneered at you, as your let out another whimper.

“h-hey...” you say, barely able to make words after your spoiled orgasm. “what w-was that for?”

“because you’ve been fucking around with me all week”, he responds, starting to unbuckle his leather belt. “all i’ve wanted this whole week was for your pretty little pussy to bounce on my cock, but you’ve been so stubborn that you wouldn’t even look my way. this is my payback. i’m going to absolutely fuck your brains out tonight.”

your spine shivered at the thought of you being here all night being used as erens own personal pocket pussy. you didn’t want to know how many rounds you were in for tonight, since eren never stops until he’s tired.

before you knew it, erens belt was off, and you were sitting on the bed watching him did himself of his shirt. his perfectly toned abs were semi-visible in the moonlight, the ripples of skin or bones creating a masterpiece. his hair was nearly free of the bun at this point, but you wouldn’t dare notify him of this.

eren folds the belt and gives it a little whack upon the bed, giving a crack.

“strip”, he commands. “now.”

you obey his words, and pull of your shirt without hesitation, followed by your cargo pants, leaving you in your bra and panties only.

erens gaze turns predatory as if he was a lion and you were the antelope. he flips you over almost effortlessly, and grabs your ass.

“dear god, i missed this...” he groans. “your ass is gonna be all red after i’m done with you.”

you clench your eyes, bracing for impact. you knew exactly how this was going to go down. eren cracks the belt down onto your left ass cheek, and you yelped at the impact. he did it again, the pain soon quickly melting into pleasure with each snap.

sure, eren could be a bit rough in the bedroom sometimes- no, scratch that. he could be super rough. but he always knew where the line was to be drawn. or at least he used to know. you only knew that this man had been deprived of sex for the time he was in marley, so he was likely craving some sort of intimacy. and now that he had you, he wasn’t going soft this time.

as soon as the last crack of the belt had ceased, he threw the belt down and kneeled over you.

“suck me off”, he demanded.

you flipped yourself over this time, and got level with erens member. erens black boxers had a throbbing bulge in the center. as you pulled his boxers down, his cock immediately sprang up, and slapped against his stomach.

boy, eren always had a nice dick. it was pale, but a vein ran through the side, and connected to the red tip of it. he hasn’t shaved down there in a while, so the seemingly primal hair that laid at his base was expected.

you grasped his cock that was eagerly waiting for attention, and moved your tongue along the shaft, placing kitty licks on the tip. you felt eren twitching under your touch. you wanted to tease him to compensate for your lost orgasm, to feel him writhe and beg to cum.

eren grew impatient with the kitty licks and tongue work that he grabbed a fistful of your hair and jammed your mouth onto him. you gagged at the sudden movement, the tip touching the back of your throat. he moved your head back and forth, using your spit to guide you along.

you took in his whole length. it was painful, but totally worth it to see his expression on his face. cupping his balls, you played with them, moving around the sensitive skin with your hands.

“i-m gonna c-cum...” eren warns you. you try and pull off so he wouldn’t make you choke. eren resists, only pulling you closer. his cock spasms, and releases a load of cum into your mouth. you were nearly choking on cock, the salty taste reaching every corner in your mouth.

you swallow it all. eren pulls out his cock, still hard even though he just came. he takes hold of your shoulders and pins you down on your bed.

“don’t worry princess, i’ll compensate for that lost orgasm this time.” he said, an evil smirk on his face. yup. you were in for it.

he quickly takes your bra and panties off before starting, and takes note of the giant spot of arousal in the bottom of your panties before he slides them off. he unclasps your bra and gives your breasts a quick little squeeze before pumping his cock a few times and lining it up at your entrance.

“p-please, be gentle...” you whisper.

eren laughs. “not a chance.”

he thrusts into you, his whole length unexpectedly filling you to the brim. letting out a groan, he thrusts into you again. it felt like the wind had been knocked out of you. you grip the sheets beside you.

“i missed the feeling of your little pussy...” eren growls. he continues to thrust, smashing his hips into yours as he fucked you with no mercy at all.

lewd sounds of skin slapping a guttural wet sounds filled the room as you squirmed beneath him, moving your hips so he could get a good angle. his dick begins to touch on your sweet spot, hitting it repeatedly. the pressure on your spongy seeet spot was enough to make a loud moan escape from your mouth.

“m-more!” you yelp. eren heeds your command as you felt his balls slapping against your ass ruthlessly. “oh god, please, eren! please!” erens pace quickens a little bit more as you feel the burning sensation of your orgasm about to take over. you cum right on his dick, the creamy liquid spilling out of you and coating him so he could glide into you with ease. eren still has a bit to go, and while making an effort to cum, he only thrusts harder, causing you to cum yet again, eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“ngh- oh fuck...” eren stammers, as he bottoms out into you, shooting thick ropes of cum into your hole.

you lay there panting, eyes almost shutting. but eren isn’t anywhere near done yet. his dick gardens yet again, and he continues to thrust.

“e-eren... please no more...” you gasp, trying to contain yourself as eren slammed into you again and again.

“no”, he says raspily. “you’ve been teasing me all fuckin’ week. you need to be punished for this.” his tip kisses your cervix, causing you to grimace. “turn over.”

you tried to move, but your legs were like jelly, unable to move after all the previous sensations you were feeling.

“dumb slut. let me help you.” eren places you on your tummy and re-aligns himself at your entrance, and jams his throbbing dick into you. your ribbed walls were clenching around him tightly, which only made him encouraged and want to go harder, deeper, if that was even possible.

your vision turned foggy upon your third orgasm, toes curling and all.

“ngh- aah!~” you whimper, feeling numb and helpless. something about eren using you as his own personal fuck toy made you seem to cum a little bit quicker than the last times you’ve had sex. maybe it was the control he had over you, the domination.

“oh, did my little whore cum for me again?” eren groans. “louder. i want this entire hallway to know exactly what we are doing in here. let them know how good i’m fucking you.”

eren gives a tug at your hair, making your head turn around and look him directly in the eye. he had a wicked sneer painted across his face. he purposely hits your sweet spot again, making a string of high pitched moans and whimpers fill the room, maybe even the whole hallway as eren instructed you to do.

your noises were the final straw that eren had. he quickly pulled out and flipped you over before jacking himself a few more times, and letting his cum splatter across your face and chest. your vision was so foggy at this point that everything was just a big cloud of white. as you regain your vision, you see eren laying over you, his brown hair messy and eyes filled with love.

“you’re not gonna just leave me like the others, right?” he questions you as he kisses your naked collarbone. you’re completely out of breath at this point, and all you can do is nod.

“good.” he grabs a towel that was sitting on your nightstand. “i hope you never leave me, to be honest.” he cleans up his release combined with sweat that was puddled on your body.

“n-never.” you stammer.

#aot hcs #aot headcanons #aot smut #attack on titan #shingeki no kyoujin #snk headcanons #snk smut #eren jeager #eren jaeger #eren yeager #aot eren #snk eren

290 notes · View notes

asset35-maya · 3 years

Text

{SYNCED}

Gavin broke away panting.

He rested his forehead against Nines’ collarbone. Pausing. Taking a moment.

It had been a while since he’d done this. He definitely wanted to, but he needed a moment. To clear his head. To remember what was happening… how, why, where, when… who…

Nines’ hands ran down his sides and over his backside. The touch was firm. Insistent. Demanding.

“Phck.”

“That’s the general idea.”

A warm mouth latched onto his throat. There would definitely be marks there in the morning.

Nines began to walk him backwards into the dark and messy cave that passed for his bedroom. The android’s intentions were crystal clear.

Gavin was flattered. How many times had he imagined precisely this scene in his head? But before the backs of his knees could hit the bed, something made him place a hand on Nines’ chest to stop him in his tracks. An instinct of self-preservation. He wanted this too much for it to not completely destroy him.

The LED light reflected on the walls went from blue to yellow. The eager, grasping hands stopped roaming all over his body.

“What’s wrong?”

“I… nothing’s wrong…”

Nines let go of him and sat down on the bed. He looked around uncertainly for a moment before grabbing a blanket and pulling it over his lap. Gavin ran a weary hand over his face. It was just like him to have second thoughts after getting the both of them naked. When would he stop phcking literally everything up?

He reached down and grabbed a random pair of boxers off the floor. Praying they were at least moderately clean, he slipped them on and sat down beside Nines.

The android cocked his head to the side. His piercing blue eyes shone like searchlights in the dark.

“I… phhh… dammit I’m gonna sound like an idiot…”

“I already think you’re an idiot, Gavin. Nothing you’re about to say will make a difference in that department.”

He had to smile at that. For all the lack of social programming, Nines had really figured out how to put people around him at ease. It was one of the main reasons Gavin had fallen so damn hard for him… not that anyone knew… not even Nines. Which was probably why they found themselves in such a strange predicament…

He cleared his throat.

“Look, Nines. We’ve just started getting along and we’re kind of, I dunno, friends, and I don’t exactly know how we ended up here tonight-”

“I gave you your birthday present and you kissed me.”

“Woah that is not… that is not how it went down. Okay, maybe it kind of did, but uh… my point is… um…”

“It was a long time coming.”

Gavin looked up from his knees and met the android’s eye. There was amusement there, but also sincerity. Nines rearranged the blanket as he turned to sit cross-legged, facing Gavin.

“Let’s not mince words. We’ve both wanted this since we met.”

“Since we met!??”

“I’m admitting it. You can too.”

Gavin didn’t respond.

“What is it? Tell me. We might still be just friends, but we are… friends. Friends can be honest with each other.”

That was fair. That was a very good point, actually. Nines was smart. Not just because of his advanced programming. He was genuinely, insightfully, incredibly sharp. Another reason Gavin was completely besotted despite outward efforts to show otherwise.

But sitting there in the awkward darkness of the unkempt bedroom, there was no point trying to hide what was going through his mind. Might as well cop to it.

“Okay, if I have to be honest… I did want to… um… do it.”

“I gathered.”

“Can you not be a smartass for like one second? I’m trying to be real with you.”

“Sorry I only have two default settings. Smartass and Sex God. Pick one.”

“Nines.”

“Okay sorry. I’m listening.”

“I really like you.”

There was a brief flash of red and the LED went back to yellow. Gavin paid it no mind. It used to worry him but he now knew it happened whenever the android was thrown for a loop. He secretly felt a twinge of satisfaction at being unpredictable for once.

“Me too.”

“No.”

“What no?”

“You don’t get it, Nines I reeeeeallly like you. You know? No? Phck! Don’t make me say it!”

Nines scrunched up his nose. Gavin didn’t blame him. Things were getting weird but before he could utter anything more incriminating, Nines seemed to make up his mind about something and reached for his hand. Gavin didn’t resist. He watched wide-eyed as the android brought his wrist up and kissed his pulse point. Nines then pressed it over the glowing blue circle at the base of his sternum.

“What do you feel?”

“About you?”

“No. I already know that very well. I mean, what do you feel here? Under your hand?”

The cool metal of the regulator rim. A steady rhythmic vibration against his skin. The compressions of a life-giving thirium pump.

“Your heartbeat.”

“Mmm. What do you notice about it?”

Gavin glanced between his own calloused hand and the perfect face looking at him. He shook his head.

Nines took his other hand and placed it on his left cheek. The synth skin peeled away briefly at the contact and reformed. The intimate gesture set Gavin’s heart racing…

And Nines’ too.

Gavin traced the fine features and ran his thumb over the plush lips. He skimmed his hand down Nines’ face… throat… chest…

The android’s thirium pump compression rate multiplied in tandem with the human’s pulse.

Their eyes met and Nines smiled.

“It’s not just tonight, Gavin. It’s been like this for a while.”

“What do you mean?”

“A lot of humans don’t believe us when we tell them, but deviants can’t control everything about their physiology. Our core temperature… our battery consumption… our tear ducts. We are as prone to emotion as you are.

If we… like someone… like reeeeeallly like someone as you so eloquently put it… we mirror their system status. Our pump compression rates… sync.

I used to think it only happened between androids but… oh shit, I can’t say this with a straight face… my heart has been following yours.”

Nines stifled a laugh at his own disclosure and looked up expectantly.

Gavin was a detective through and though. He immediately deduced what Nines was trying to say and why. Placing both hands on Nines’ face, he pulled him back in, picking right up from where they had left off. He flung the blanket aside and climbed into Nines’ lap enthusiastically.

The kisses came easily and the touches even quicker. Nines hooked the human’s legs around his waist and flipped him onto the cluttered mattress. Neither paid mind to where the objects scattered and fully recovered the mood they had first been in.

If Gavin had been concerned that there was no sincere meaning to what they were about to do, Nines had allayed all fears in that easygoing but clever way of his.

Again, another reason Gavin liked,

sorry,

reeeeeallly liked him.

#rk900 #gavin reed #reed900 #gavin900 #dbh rk900 #dbh nines #gavin x nines #dbh #dbh writing #dbh fanfic #my writing #fluff #friends to lovers #tw: implied sex #tw: sex mention

111 notes · View notes

whatifyoulivelikethat · 4 years

Text

savage love, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: We all make happy mistakes, right? And Jeon Jungkook’s was fucking Min Yoongi’s ex-girlfriend. Oops.

notes: After being attacked for a full week by long-haired, ponytail Jungkook, they just had to drop Savage Love BTS remix... so I had to write about it, of course.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, smut (fem reader, m-receiving oral, cowgirl on a couch); non-idol!AU; big feels; ponytail!Jungkook in gray sweats; Jungkook’s POV

“I shouldn’t be in love with you.”

She grinned.

“Oh, yeah. I know.”

Jeon Jungkook chewed on his lower lip nervously, furrowing his brows. He knew he shouldn’t be touching her, because she was the ex-girlfriend of one of his close friends. He heard it had been a messy break-up with cheating and vicious words thrown at each other.

Why would I be in love with you? Love is fleeting anyway.

Are you serious? What the point of spending all this time together then?

Who knows? You would literally fuck anything that walked.

The fuck? I haven’t touched anyone besides you! And then you do this to me?

We were both drunk. I only kissed her.

You know what, go to hell, Min Yoongi!

Jungkook knew all the words exchanged because he had accidentally walked in on the whole thing. Yoongi’s best friend, Jung Hoseok, asked Jungkook to return some music equipment to Yoongi since Jungkook lived nearby but, well, nothing really turned out as planned.

Everyone thought Yoongi’s girl was hot. They always teased him how he got so lucky to catch such a woman. Maybe some people wouldn’t find her cute or pretty, but there was no denying the sexy confidence of her presence that immediately dominated the room when she entered. Short skirts, tight tops, leather jackets, combat boots – she just had that look. That feeling. Perky tits, perky ass, thighs that begged to be squeezed and molded, a smirk that could kill you.

So, when she unexpectedly showed up at Jungkook’s apartment the day after she walked out on Yoongi, Jungkook expected her to be sad. He expected puffy eyes and an oversized sweatshirt. Instead, he found the same teasing, cocked eyebrow and the tiniest black dress he’d ever seen, complete with a silver-studded black leather jacket. His eyes nearly bulged out of his head.

“Would you be mad if I kissed you right now?” she asked in greeting.

Jungkook sputtered. “N-no, but–”

She cut him off by getting on the tiptoes of her chunky ankle boots and kissed him, plush lips on his, pressing hard against his body. They stumbled into his apartment, her hands clenching his grey hoodie, slamming the door closed with her heel. She had him breathless within seconds, her kisses firm but coy, teeth nipping at his lips. She didn’t shove her tongue into his mouth, but let it linger between his lips, lightly licking before pulling away as he moaned softly.

She backed off to unzip her shoes and kick them off, giving Jungkook a moment to breathe.

“Does… does Yoongi-hyung know you’re here?” Jungkook croaked, still stunned by her entrance.

She shrugged. “Who cares? He doesn’t matter now. Only you matter.”

He really shouldn’t have been happy about that but his heart skipped two beats. It was extremely likely that the only reason that she was here was to get back at Yoongi. For his sanity, he really should just tell her to go home. But she yanked down his grey sweatpants way too fast and he started, suddenly shoved against the wall as she kissed up his leg.

“I always thought you looked pretty good with longer hair, Jungkook,” she purred, leaning against his legs and looking up at him. Tits. Yup, that’s basically what his brain immediately fixated on.

Jungkook reached up and touched his black hair as if he didn’t know the length. He had worked out a bit before returning home and his hair was still tied up in its small ponytail. He felt his cheeks burn with the compliment.

“A-ah… I haven’t gotten a haircut in a while,” he stuttered, sucking in a breath as she stroked him slowly through his underwear.

“It still looks good,” she said casually, as if she wasn’t palming him right at the entrance of his apartment. “But you always look good.” She blinked slowly, a smile dancing on her lips. “You’re handsome, Jungkook. Handsome and so, so fuckable.”

Welp, he was screwed now. It didn’t really matter if she meant it or not because his cock was literally trying to rip out of his boxer briefs by himself. He was rock hard and his face was ten million degrees with how red he was getting. She tilted her head at him, one hand gently cupping his dick and balls through his underwear. Almost innocent with how focused she was on him, lips slightly parted, her free hand clinging to his leg. If he didn’t know better, he would have thought she was an angel.

“Do you want to fuck me, Jungkook?”

Oh, god, the way his name floated out of her lips like an ocean wave crashing into his soul. His resolve crumbled like a sandcastle. His mind was going blank except for the thousands of fantasies he had about Yoongi’s girlfriend. No one could shame him if they stayed in his head, right? No one could see him if he was rubbing one out in the shower, or on his bed, or fuck, even in his damn kitchen. It was his apartment! No one was going to know.

She wasn’t Yoongi’s girlfriend anymore now, right? Who cared what happens now?

“Fuck yes, I want to fuck you,” Jungkook nearly begged, grinding his hips into her hand.

She grinned devilishly at him and yanked his underwear down. He gasped as she leaned in and licked his cock, nice and slow, trailing over his balls.

“Ah, n-no… I’m dirty…”

She smirked. “Only going to get dirtier with me involved.”

His head hit the wall as she took one of his balls into her mouth. It was instant warmth and wetness, pleasure soaking deliciously into every fiber of his being. Oh, fuck. Her mouth was so soft but tight, tongue circling around him as she worked him. His hands were flat against the wall and the pathetic whines were most certainly him, but Jungkook couldn’t register them at all because he was trying to not ram her in the face with his hips. The head of his cock smeared against her cheek and he shuddered at the sensation. Such soft skin. She lifted it, switching sides. He moaned much too loudly, chanting her name as she tugged lightly, bobbing her head up and down. So warm. So wet.

She hadn’t even actually sucked his dick yet and it was leaking everywhere.

When he thought he was going to burst, she finally released him and planted a sloppy kiss on the head of his cock, tongue expertly sliding out to rub against the bottom of the head. If she slowed down for one fucking second, then he might have made a much sexier noise than his yelp as she enveloped his cock with his mouth, eyes glued to his reaction as she went down, down.

“Oh, fuuuuuuck,” he groaned, eyelids fluttering.

He could feel the head being squeezed by the back of her throat. Her tongue caressed the bottom, ever so slightly swiveling her head from side to side. Each movement made the head of his cock rub against different cervices, his breath hiking with pleasure. After a moment, she moved back a little and then slowly bobbed her head up and down, mouth so wet Jungkook thought she was going to spill, but her lips were tight against the base of his cock. When she slid up, she would squeeze the base of the head with her lips and then suck him in. She steadily increased her pace, eyes closed, brows furrowed in concentration. The head of his cock rubbed deliciously against the roof of her mouth, sending sparks dancing down his spine.

In short, how was he supposed to get normal blowjobs after this?

Jungkook gasped, feeling the familiar tightening at the base of his stomach.

“W-wait, I’m going to–”

She went even faster, what the actual fuck–

He moaned as he came, cock jerking in her mouth as he felt her suck it out of him, swallowing infuriatingly calmly as if this was routine for her. It was a lot more than he thought he could produce and she held his hips in place, licking the sensitive head gently as the last few drops were milked out of him. Jungkook shivered, realizing he was panting heavily as if he had run ten miles. She pulled back slowly, opening her mouth. His cock slid out, slapping against his thigh wetly as a string of saliva snapped between it and her tongue.

Was this what nirvana felt like?

“Hey, Jungkook?”

He snapped out of his reverie, eyes going wide. “What? What, is something wrong?”

She chuckled and wiped her lips with the back of her hand. “Nope, just wanted to say you tasted good today.”

Today? Did that that mean there were more days in the future? His mind reeled as she stood up and kissed him lightly, the bitter saltiness of his own cum lingering.

“Still want to fuck me?” she said, leaning against his chest.

His mind was still hesitating but his body answered for him. “Yes.”

She hugged him around the waist, eyebrow cocked and waiting for his reaction. Jungkook nervously chewed on his lip, lost in her eyes. He wanted to be trapped in her gaze forever. His hands slid up her sides, pulling her to him. She smelled like dark cherries, invading his senses.

“Why me?” he whispered, throat dry.

Her hand stroked his cheek with a smile.

“Why not?”

Her thumb grazed against his lower lip, teasing it from his teeth.

“I want to fuck you, Jungkook.”

He kissed her, hungrily, feeling her smirk against his lips. They stumbled to his couch, Jungkook’s legs getting tangled in his sweatpants and underwear. He frowned and kicked them away impatiently, yanking his hoodie over his head. His hair came out disheveled and fluffy. Jungkook shook his head to unstick the hair from his face. She tried to hide her laughter behind her hands and he pouted, shoving her onto the couch. The hem of her dress hiked up, revealing the tops of her juicy thighs. Jungkook froze.

She wasn’t wearing panties.

He saw the flash of her wet, glistening pussy before she closed her legs, sliding up against the couch.

Yup, his cock was awake again.

“You…” Jungkook was lost for words.

She reached into her leather jacket and held out a condom. “Yes?”

Jungkook gulped. He moved a little closer, knowing this was a terrible idea and probably not going to end well, but for some reason he really didn’t care. His hands were still on the sofa, on either side of her. She placed her hand on his, lightly caressing his knuckles. Eyes on his, watching him closely.

“I shouldn’t do this,” he said.

She nodded. “Yeah.”

He inhaled deeply, smelling her cherry perfume and the scent of sex. “I shouldn’t want you.”

Her fingertips tapped against the back of his hand. “There are worse things in this world.”

Jungkook chewed on his lower lip nervously.

“I shouldn’t be in love with you.”

Her lips curved into a devious smile.

“Oh, yeah. I know.”

Jungkook leaned down, heart beating fast, head foggy as if he was drunk. Her words sounded a little bitter even though she tried to keep her tone light-hearted. Maybe she didn’t want to hear the word love right now. But the moment he said it, Jungkook knew that was how he felt. His eyes flickered to hers.

“Promise me this isn’t the last time.”

Something flitted across her expression. She seemed to realize how serious he was. After a moment, she nodded slowly.

“Okay. Promise.”

He kissed her, hard, not hesitating anymore. His phone was buzzing loudly on the coffee table and he could guess who it was, but he ignored it, hands cupping her face, planting kisses on her cheeks and lips. She laughed against his kisses, soft and sweet, and for the first time since she had arrived, she sounded happy in his arms. They made it a little game, dodging each other’s lips when they tried to kiss the other until they were breathlessly grinning like a pair of idiots.

Jungkook sat up, smile plastered to his face. He took the condom from her and put it on, discarding the foil wrapper to the floor. He looked up to see her shrugging out of her leather jacket and pulling her dress over her head. No bra either. Her breasts bounced into view, making his mouth water. She tossed the dress aside and smirked.

“Think you’re drooling a little, Jungkook.”

He quickly touched his lips but there was nothing. She laughed, pushing him against the sofa. He pouted but it turned into a moan as she sank down on him, sighing in satisfaction. So warm, so wet, so tight.

“You didn’t let me stretch you out,” Jungkook whined, gasping as the last inch slid in. Fuck, she was so damn tight.

She seemed pleased, tongue between her teeth as she smiled at him. “I couldn’t wait.”

He pouted. It was obvious she did it on purpose. She didn’t seem hurt and she didn’t move right away, placing her arms around his neck and squeezing him with her thighs. Her pussy clenched around him, relaxing before squeezing him again. Wait. Jungkook’s eyes widened as he realized she was squeezing him like that on purpose. Voluntarily.

“How am I supposed to last more than two seconds?” he frowned, sucking in a breath as she began to move, sliding up and down with ease.

She hummed smugly. “That’s what next time is for, right?”

Jungkook highly doubted that she was ever going to give him a break. Her face was far too smug for that. He reached up and massaged her breasts, gasping as she increased her pace. She moaned as he rubbed his thumbs against her nipples, teasing the tips with his nail. He had thought about these breasts a little too much. It felt surreal to have such softness in his hands. Her dress must have had built-in cups because her large nipples were hard, jutting out at him. Jungkook imagined them poking out from under one of his t-shirts and groaned, thrusting up into her.

She gasped, clutching his shoulders. An eyebrow raised in question.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” she asked playfully.

Jungkook felt his cheeks burn. “A-ah, just… imagining you in my clothes. With nothing underneath.”

She chuckled and leaned forward, lips against his ear. Her tongue traced against his earlobe.

“That could be arranged.”

His moan became a needy whimper, ramming his hips up again.

“Wanna make you cum for me,” he mumbled, hands sliding down to her hips.

Her teeth caught his earlobe, breath hot against his skin. “Go for it.”

Jungkook wanted to start off slow and make it last but he was too horny and worked up for that. He fucked her from below, kneading her ass as he did so, gasping as she squeezed him every time he came up. Her breathing became labored, pulling him close, breasts bouncing against his chest as she gasped out his name, longing and lovely. He felt her hand slide up and bury into his hair, her back arching.

If this meant he was being used, well, fuck, he would do it again and again.

“F-fuck, Jungkook, harder, please.”

He obliged, setting his jaw as he slammed her down on him, relishing in her sweet sounds and the lewd, wet slapping of their hips.

“Fuck,” she hissed, pulling his hair hard as her pussy clenched, spilling around him and leaking onto his thighs and balls, thick and viscous like honey. Oh, god, it even smelled good, the scent of her orgasm so strong that Jungkook felt the familiar tension straining in his lower stomach, so close to his own. It only took two more thrusts and he groaned, slamming into her hard as his cock shot out into the condom, his cock throbbing inside her tightness, pussy squeezing him until there was no more.

It took a moment to float down from the high. She laid against his chest, the mess between their legs probably soaking into the sofa. He would have some cleaning up to do after. Maybe some unexplained stains.

She wrapped her arms around him, chin on his shoulder. He couldn’t see her face but the breath exhaled told him enough. Satisfied, relaxed, a little apologetic. Jungkook rubbed her back, kissing her neck softly.

“Need a shower,” she murmured.

Jungkook grinned. “Lucky for you, I have one right here.”

She really did have a beautiful laugh.

when you kiss me, I know you don't give two fucks but I still want that, your savage love

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook fanfic #bts x reader #jeon jungkook #BTS jungkook

539 notes · View notes

slashxrose · 3 years

Text

•Slash Imagine ~

Name: cannot resist you.

Posted on: Wattpad (user: Slashxrose)

Warnings: unprotected sex, dirty talking, gagging.

Narration: first person.

Summary: you couldn't wait till Slash stops working, everything you wanted was him between your legs so you try to caught his attention until he couldn't resist you.

Narrator:

The click of her heels perks her husband's ears up with instinctive interest, but nothing else as he focuses on the task at hand. It's now late at night and the need for him to be in bed next to her is unyielding.

I saunter over to Slash for the third time tonight, my hand skimming the edge of the mahogany while observing his taut posture. I watch as his hands go to work, admiring the sinewy dance they make. The veins atop his hands scatter throughout, his tendons flexing as his wrist flicks while writing. Wear and tear decorate his hands beautifully, showing his proud age with scars and wrinkles. Long, masculine fingers grip the white and gold fountain pen I gifted him with such elegance, it almost makes me jealous of the pen. The gold adorning his fingers glistens under the only light source in the room, a stained-glass lamp on his desk.

Slash's eyes slyly shift over my form as I marvel at his hands, observing the lack of clothes I have on. My body is on full display under a sheer black babydoll set. White-hot arousal rises from his gut to his chest as he rakes over my bare breasts, honing in on the hard peaks of my nipples. Lower and lower, he inspects the translucency of my panties, he can see everything. He inhales irritably, wishing I wouldn't be right in front of him looking so appetizing when he has work to do.

"I'm busy," he says sternly, without looking at me.

My husband knows where this is going and in the back of his mind, he doesn't care. Ignoring his statement, I maneuver into his lap so that I'm facing him. He sighs as he has no choice but to look at me now. Nostrils flaring, eyebrows scrunching, he scowls me with another elongated sigh.

I situate my center over his crotch and his heart rate speeds up. Slash quickly pushes my torso against his own, almost as if he's trying to hide my face from his view. My head rests against his shoulder, unable to see his face as the hand at my upper back tells me to stay put with a strong force. Wrapping my arms around him, I hug him tightly while my hips start to slowly rotate over him. Immediately, my breathing is heavy against his ear, the blissful friction sliding across my clit, is amazing even over the thick material of his pants.

Slash gulps and fixates on a sentence he can't seem to read, too engrossed as he can feel how wet I am with the glide against his clothed cock. Gasps turn into low moans, my lower half rubbing him faster as he hardens underneath my barely-there panties. My slick splits my folds, causing the thick of him to nestle between my inner labia.

"But I want you." I say in a whisper.

His broad chest heaves, his breathing becoming heavy. My breasts squish against him, every inhale and exhale are felt with immense detail, and he can't help but be absorbed in it. Slash's brown eyes snap up to the chiming clock above the door ahead, signaling midnight has arrived. Stress plagues him all the while I'm taking it away. Time continues to slip his grasp, as does the pen in his hand. Clearing his throat, he tries to carry on with his efforts.

But I lean back and hastily unzip his pants. My meek hands reach beneath his boxers, feeling his hotness before pulling him out. Hot and hard, his thick cock stands with a curve in my hand. Resting at a high position, I hold him still while nudging away my panties. Slash rolls his full lips between his teeth with anticipation of what's to come, desire riddling his entire body. Rolling my hips upwards, my clit skims the ridge lining the underside of his length before I glide back down with the innermost wetness of my pussy.

"Oh, my damn god." I moan, clutching onto one of his shoulders tight to maintain stability.

Now breathing out of his mouth, he lets out a whisper of a groan as I paint his cock with my essence. My hand begins to massage his swollen tip, spreading the leaking precum. Shutting his eyes, he savors the sublime attention of my slippery fingers and wet pussy.

With a higher ascend, I suddenly spear myself on his shaft with a penetrating whine. Gravity pulls me toward his base with a sting to my stretching walls. The wrinkle between his brows deepens with a clench of his jaw, his eyes rolling back as my sweet pussy consumes him. Raising my hips to lessen the pain, I shallowly ride him until my wetness coats him enough to slam all the way down. Slash grunts and nearly abandons his pen but doesn't as he knows it'll be the end of this facade he's trying to maintain.

I work him up into a blazing abyss while he tries to use his resolve to persevere. The tip of his cock nearly hits my cervix with this position, filling me to the brim. The steady bounce I'm maintaining have me moaning in his ear, gradually unraveling by the second. His cologne invades my senses while burying my face in his neck, inhaling the thrilling scent with each intake of air. Panting, I cling to him with my tired legs, trying to wrap around him as I rock against him.

"Fuck babe, I- shit-" He moans out loud.

Each time I rise, my insides feel an emptiness I can't bear until the mighty stretch of sinking down gives the divine satisfaction of being full of him again.

"You like being a sluty girl for me, huh." He keeps moaning as he grabs my ass. "Feel how your cunt begs for my cock."

On his end, the heavenly scorch of the inferno that is my hot, wet, velveteen walls squeezing him feeds his carnal desire to penetrate me with control. Slowly, his hips start to buck upward, chasing the feeling of my saturated plushness. My high-pitched mewls indicate me impending release, the pulsating beat inside me becoming more frequent with each plunge.

"S- Slash, daddy...." I pule, the look on my face is grave as I pull back to look at him.

Seeing such desperation in my face makes him drop his pen without a single thought. Slash grabs my hips and lifts me to roughly slam up into my drenched cunt. Hissing, he eagerly leans back and devours the small contortions in my face. The pleasure between both of us increases tenfold as he controls the pace with my body and the power of his hips. Sure, I could ride him the whole night, but with Saul Hudson, it's an entirely different type of gratification only he can deliver. Slash drives into me like rapid-fire, ceaselessly slamming through my fluttering walls.

"What a desperate little cunt you have here," he says through clenched teeth, leching at my straining hole with a cocky tilt of his head. "Sucking me in like you can't live without my cock being buried inside you," he says with such poise it makes me lose it.

My jaw gapes open, letting out waves of wails that coax a vicious, almost painful speed of his hips. As my body recoils and quivers, my insides squeeze him.

"You're really cumming over that?" He roughly growls, his own orgasm hitting him. "Is my wife that much of a whore?" He snarls, his rough mouth intensifying my releases.

The tightness around him brings his release head-on and he sharply grunts before exhaling out a drawn-out groan. A hot rush surges through his shaft, resulting in thick strings glazing my insides. With impossible brute force, his hands clench around my hips hard enough to leave marks while pounding his spurting cock upward. Rolling waves of hot bliss wash over me as my cling to his solid body, the air being knocked out of me from his forceful thighs banging against me.

"Bab-e" the moans do not stop coming out of my mouth.

With a slight sneer to his mouth, Slash captures my lips in a fervid kiss, one that cuts my voice short. Tongues openly swirl around one another, moans and groans mixing in a harmonic cacophony.

"Holy shit, I'm gonna cum.... shit." he moans against my lips.

Sighing heavily through his nose, leftover jitters jolt his body with the last remnants of his orgasm hitting him. My walls gradually relax around him, hugging him while thick fluid flows from the junction between our bodies. Clutching onto him, I lift off him and feel as empty as ever without him. Standing on wobbly legs, I struggle to stand on the stilts of my heels. Warm semen seeps down my inner thigh, prompting me to look down at it. Slash catches the liquid with a finger, swiping it up as more drips down. Just the feeling of the pads of his fingers near my center nearly makes me topple over.

"Clean this mess," he orders, offering me his glossy fingers.

I gaze at him while opening my mouth, his fingers gliding to the back of my tongue. My lips close around his digits as his finger pulls out. Smiling, I lean over to kiss him but he stops me with a finger on my lips and a raised eyebrow.

"Did I not say clean this mess?" He repeats pitilessly.

I look down at his still hard, glistening cock as semen pools around his balls and trickle down his pants. Immediately, I sink down to my knees between his legs, licking my lips as I inspect the immense girth of him. Gingerly grabbing his base, my eyes snap up to his before licking collecting the hone he so graciously is giving to me with a fat stripe up his tall length. Slash's nostrils flare in arousal, watching me lick up his seed like a glazed candy. Even though it's bitter, it's the sweetest thing I've ever tasted as I see that he's enjoying himself.

The drip of his seed between my thighs distracts me every so often as it coats my skin in a glassy luster. My lovely tongue peeks from my lips tantalizingly as it slithers around the fat veins of his cock, smoothing over them deliciously. Reaching the tip, I lick the small slit at the top, collecting even more of the tasty liquid. While keeping his semen in the back of my mouth, I continue slurping up the mess all the way down to the bottom.

My husband lets out a hiss as my tongue cups one of his balls, softly sucking it into my mouth. A deep pinch between his brows appears and the muscles framing the back of his jaw flex as he pushes his hair back, revealing more of his handsome face. Almost breathless, he watches my mouth at his balls with an expression that spurs me on. With the acidic fluid now gone, I can't help but keep licking him until my lips reach the tip. I wrap my lips around the sensitive, swollen head and suck harder than he'd like, making his hips jerk up. He groans and snatches me by the hair, lifting me off him.

Leaning forward, he moves close to my face, tilting his head mockingly at me.

"I don't think you're in a position to toy with me when you are my toy babe," he muses, placing a finger over your closed mouth.

Slash grabs the frame of my jaw roughly, wedging his index and thumb between my teeth from the outside so my mouth opens. He smirks triumphantly seeing his release in my mouth.

"Swallow me," he orders.

I swallow the bittery goodness and stick my tongue out to show off my compliancy. Slash smiles, reclining against the chair and pulling my hair at the root. Jerking my face closer to his cock, he smashes my lips to his length before forcing my mouth over it. I whine as his cock drives through my parted lips, the fleshy hardness of it hitting the roof of my mouth. My brows scrunch while trying to not gag around him as he pushes me halfway down.

"I know you can take it all with that expert mouth of yours," he croons, holding my head down until he feels my throat open up for him. "That's it, my girl, my babygirl."

His thickness penetrates my throat and I concentrate on breathing properly without gagging. Bobbing my head atop his cock, his fingers tighten in my hair with each thrust, getting lost in the feel of my mouth and throat. Slash's eyebrows quirk up as my moans pitch higher, wondering why I'm enjoying this more than usual. Through the gap between my mouth and his cock, he can see that my pussy is still oozing his cum. With a smug grin, he moves his leather loafer below me, raising the tip of it to skim my drooling center. Gasping, I moan against his cock as he rubs my clit against his shoe.

"Nasty girl, getting turned on by her husband's shoe," he sneers, pushing me further down his cock until my nose is buried in his black pubes. "Does my cock taste good knowing my seed is spilling from you?" He growls, increasing the pace of my head.

I whine, his cock muffling my voice. Tears begin to break the barrier of my lashes and stream down thickly, making for a wonderful view of my struggling face. He rubs my pussy tauntingly slow, patting my entrance with a vile gush. Though he's teasing me, he's ultimately riling himself up further as he twinges in my throat.

"Since your little pussy can't keep my seed in, I think I need to refill it again, tesoro," he coos, pulling me off his cock with a nasty pop.

Strings fall down my chin, my lips glossy and my cheeks full of tears. I nod and he smiles warmly through the heat of his impending release.

"But you have to promise me that you won't bother me again like this if I do," he says.

"Okay, daddy." I reply.

Slash smiles, helping me up with attentive hands, and in the back of his mind, he knows full well I'm lying. Picking me up and placing me atop his desk, he hikes my right leg against his torso with my heel cresting his wide shoulder. Leering brown eyes roam my filthy thighs while curling a possessive arm around my thigh, dragging my bottom to the edge of the desk. My palms splay on top of the desk beside me as I sit up, wanting a good look at him while he plows me. The tips of his fingers slip a bit, prompting him to delve his fingers deep into the flesh of my inner thigh to keep a strong grip over me. Standing straight, the desk is a perfect height for him to align his cock up with my entrance without having to dip his body low. My other leg rests against the wood, bent with an inviting spread to my legs.

I stare up at him with wanting eyes and he can't help but fall deeper in love with me with that expression. He lays the curvature of his cock against my slit, making me moan before moving back his hips. With the head of his cock trailing lower to my hole, he slams into me with a roll of his eyes. His cock glides in with little to no resistance as the mixture of fluids in me make for a sensuous massage. I squeal, my hands nearly slipping from the powerful thrust. Placing his free hand on my other thigh, he grips it hard before pulling out and driving back in. My little whimpers turn into hiccup moans, tears quickly returning to my lashline as he hits me deep. Slash loves the fact that he can control the pleasure in me, experience with each thrust as if he has my emotions in the palm of his hand.

"This is what you wanted? Honey." he mumbled.

"Not enough, I need more daddy." I faced him

His features quickly hardened.

"You need more? Okay sweetheart, you're gonna have more so."

Gritting his teeth, he watches me spread around him as I did earlier, this time though, he's quicker than ever as he nears his release. Strands of his bangs fall back down to his forehead, leaving his hair perfectly messy with each undulating sway. Tip to base, he makes me feel every detail of him, sinking into me so deep he brushes the crest of my cervix.

Oh god.

The thick veins coiling around his cock beat in tandem with his heart, his cock head throbbing and leaking profusely with precum. Ducking his head low, he rests his forehead against mine, his nose rubbing the side of us as he fervently fucks me.

"Squeeze me like you always do babe," he growls, placing a thumb over my clit and rotating. My walls instantly tighten and he groans needily. "Just like that, you're perfect," he says hastily, giving me his all.

Striking my bottom with his hips with a loud clap, he pounds into me vehemently, relishing in the sweet squelch between my legs. Parted lips meet in an opened mouth kiss, one that is lazy as the two of us begin to swiftly unravel. The tips of my tongues twirl together hotly before he retracts his muscle earlier than expected, his breath labored as his hips move on their own.

"Gonna stuff you full with my seed," he mumbles through clenched teeth.

Slash slams against me with a terrifyingly crash, jolting my body within his tight grasp. The urge to fill me is strong and so he snaps into me ferociously, ejaculating inside of me once more. His cock pulses inside of me with a coaxing sensation, drowning me in a wash of bliss. His thumb relentlessly rubs my clit through his strenuous efforts, wanting me to have the utmost pleasure imaginable. Wrapping his arms around me, he desperately hugs me to his body as he can barely pull out of my rippling walls, eager to stay buried inside me. With each thrust, he hisses sharply, sensitive, and in awe of how I can just disarm him so easily just by coming into his study.

He swallows thickly before holding me and crashing back down in the chair as it creaks loudly.

"I don't think this chair is going to last if we keep this up," he chuckles gruffly, idly skimming my back with his fingertips.

109 notes · View notes

poutyhannie · 4 years

Photo

warnings: tsundere!minho, boxer!minho, fem!reader, mentions of d*ath, bl**d, kn*ves, violence, smut, fluff, angst :), dark cold minho finds a soft spot in y/n :))))

word count: +8k

The blisters on your hands burn as you placed the cash register on the shiny white counter. Finally, your life’s goal to begin a small cafe in town was complete, but this was only the beginning. Even the ache in your feet and back from the boxes and produce you carried in last night couldn’t shake the beaming smile you greet the empty store with. Golden light streams in from the freshly washed windows, bouncing off the racks of freshly baked breads and pastries. These beams of light must be the physical representation of the heavenly aroma of baking goods and you fill your lungs with it, content and elated at the prospect of a new chapter.

Among the normal baked goods, everyday items were placed around the counter, such as umbrellas and first aid kits. It was a small tactic to make a bit more profit or a thoughtful gesture, just in case customers needed something other than coffee and a croissant.

If you didn’t close the door soon, the cold morning gusts of wind would stale and harden the goods, but this display of openness was necessary to garner new customers so you quickly hopped from behind the counter to cover the goods with glass domes which served as lids.

The people of your city had been relatively friendly, spreading the word of your grand opening. Thanks to this, streams of customers filled your lavender-themed shop before the morning and evening rush. When the sun’s golden shine began to dissipate to cold blue, the goods were dwindling on the shelves, prepared to be restocked for tomorrow.

The front of your lavender purple apron was streaked with flour, chocolate, and jam as you wiped the counters of the same substances. The giddy excitement in your bones contradicted the cheerfully ticking clock on the wall that told you it was late into the night. When did the day spin away from you so quickly? Would all the days at your shop be this enjoyable? Sighing contently, you settle on one of the comfortable white chairs, finally feeling the pinching ache in your feet. You’d have to get employees once you made enough revenue, you were bound to only get more customers from here on out. Maybe you’d hire cleaners once a month to do a deep clean?

Thoughts prospective of your future and the future of your shop were interrupted when the door swung open—you were concerned the force would shatter the glass door itself. In stalked a darkly clad man, his back was turned to you as he quickly scanned the shelves and displays of your shop. He’d ignored the ‘closed’ sign. Still, one more customer couldn’t hurt. “Welcome,” you greeted warmly, feet aching as you walked back behind the counter. The customer gruffly rolled your word off.

The gloves on his hands didn’t have fingers and when he placed a small first aid kit and sandwich on the counter, you could see the beds of his nails were bleeding. However, when you saw his face, you realized his wounded fingers were not priority. A blistering red patch scored his cheek under his dark eyes. There was a fresh cut on his left cheekbone that matched his bust eyebrow and lip. At the state of his lip you quickly reached over to add a tube of chapstick to his order. “Don’t need it,” he grunted but made no move to put it back. “Its on me,” you explained, ringing him up, ignoring the roll of his eyes. Though his hoodie was pulled down, the sweaty strands of black hair were still visible, slightly blocking his vision. “Take care,” you offered him, placing the bag into his hand. The empty night was louder than him as he exited your store.

A month in and you’ve managed to perfect the flower-shaped croissants, exploiting the layers of dough and butter croissants naturally proved to achieve petal-like flares. Proudly, you arrange them on a baby blue decorative plate, fixing the eyebrow raising price tag in front of it. People would have to accept that baking was another type of art and that your croissants tasted as good as they look. Many customers have become regulars, your yellow post it note stuck on the cash register denotes what they usually get, just a courtesy. New people enter your store everyday, sometimes stopping to pose for pictures in front of the arguably aesthetic display case filled with your best work. A swell of pride always elates you and you remind them to tag the cafe in their social media posts.

Its because your shop has a softer, pretty theme that you’re surprised when you find yourself writing down what the bruised man from before would always order. Though you formally close at seven, you leave the light on as you close down for him because he usually enters at nine. At the end of every week, he replenishes his first aid kit, sporting nasty red, brown, and purple wounds on his face every day. His placement of the bandaids and salves are sloppy at best and as the daughter of a doctor, you can’t help but stop him before he disappears into the inky night once again. The accusative glare he shoots at you leaves you stuttering. “What do you want?” His words and tone almost have you denying that you even called him in the first place but you wonder why he’s always beat up and why he’s so cranky. “You’re not putting on the bandages correctly.” “What would you know about it?” “My dad was a doctor—here, just let me fix it for you.” You’re released from his heavy glare as he thinks over your proposal, eyes flitting around your shop before landing back on you. “Just make it quick.”

He’s never sat in one of your shop’s white chairs and he shifts on plush cushion, you across from him, preparing the first aid kit. No sound escapes him as he rips off his existing bandaids, though just watching him makes you want to wince. The used bandages are shoved into his pockets and he slouches in front of you. The wounds this time congregate around his jaw, a nasty blue-green bruise spreading from his chin to the end of his jaw. Cuts and rug burn-like patches are scattered around his face and you can’t picture what he’d look like without a black eye.

In the name of being prepared, you keep an extensive first aid kit under your counter. You gingerly smear the bruise with the respective salve before dousing the cuts with alcohol. All the while, the damaged man in front of you says nothing, but glares at you through his shaggy bangs. Though scared to anger him him, you softly push back his hair to reveal another bruise above his left eyebrow.

The tense silence tears at you and you blurt out, “Have you not met any left handed people? They’re always on your left side.”

“More like they haven’t met me.”

“You’re left handed?”

“Ambidextrous but they still never see it coming,” is his gruff reply.

Slowly, as you spread salve on his cuts you put two and two together. “You’re a fighter.”

“Boxer.” Though his uncomfortable silence had previously left you at a loss for words, you quickly get back into your old habits, “You’re a boxer? That’s why you’re always beat up. You must not be very good if you’re always getting hurt. Are you paid to fight other people or is it based on bets? You’re really young to be boxi—”

The coldness in his eyes as they snap up to you has your words choking in your throat. “I let my opponents have a semblance of victory before I beat them. Its based on bets so I get more profit if viewers place more bets against me.”

He rises and you follow him to the door. “I-if you…when you get injured, just come here. It’ll heal faster if I tend to it.”

A nod is all you get but its more than the silence you’ve been struck with by him before so you’re not complaining.

He holds you on your offer, coming in every night from nine to midnight. You don’t mind lingering at your shop longer because his scuffed boots find their way into your store every night. You learn that his name is Minho and that his boxing nickname is Lee Know. The air between you has melted from cold tension to quiet casualty. Though your heart clenches in wariness every time his battered face shows up, it also pangs in empathy for him. Empathy that he refuses to accept.

The glint in his eyes that he regards you with every night informs you that he scowls upon your empathy, the pout on your lips as you concentrate to clean his wounds and the worried laced in your voice as you ask him about his upcoming matches. “I’ve been preparing for the season to start. If it goes well, I can progress past my current bracket,” he explains and though his voice has been exclusively monotone, if you strain your ears hard enough, there’s a trace of hope and anticipation there.

“You haven’t been doing matches this entire time?” You exclaim, dumbfounded that this amount of damage has been from practices and preparation for the real thing.

For a passing second, everything in his demeanor except his voice calls you an idiot before he softens, realizing you know nothing about his underground life. “If we had matches all year, we’d kill each other in no time. No,” he laughs humorlessly, shaking his hair out. Its grown a bit longer than his eyes but you’ve secured it back, clearing his face up with a pink fluffy headband he scoffed at. “The lower division guys have up to 40 matches but the really good ones only have two or three.”

In the beginning of your late night first aid sessions, you’d timidly ask Minho small talk questions and he’d gruffly respond with a word or two, but never a full sentence. Now, you ask him because you’re genuinely curious about his profession. “How many do you have? Do you know who you’ll go against?”

“Twelve. Edging on the more professional bracket but still not there yet. Opponents are rolling; I don’t know until a few days before and even then, it’s not necessarily helpful. Just need to touch up on their weaknesses.”

“What’s your weakness?” You ask him, dabbing some burn salve on the glove burn stretching over his cheekbone. At the silence stretching across the two of you, you hope your tone came across as light and playful, not offensive. Though you were acquaintances with the boxer, you couldn’t yet bring yourself relax around his dark gaze.

“You’ll have to figure it out.” A giggle rises in your throat, maybe a nervous habit or maybe because you found him interesting.

An exhale eases out of your lungs as your legs give out, throwing yourself on your bed. The soft blue glow of your bedside lamp washes the room in a calming light but exhaustion refuses to let you bask in it. Soon, your eyelids are drooping and back is pressing into the sheets.

Danishes.

A harsh, ringing voice rips through your head; you bolt up, pulling your neck at the speed and abruptness. Gasping, you fling your shoes on, realizing that you left the dough proofing. If it were any other dough, you’d roll over and shrug off the loss of a batch, but this dough was made with premium French artisan flour that a kind customer had gifted you. Somehow, the panic in your throat wards off drowsiness and you speed down the empty streets. Bursting into your store, you rush to remove the dough from the bowl and knead them into small loaves.

Based on how the dough smells, you don’t believe it over proofed so the worry loosens your throat allowing you to inhale a yawn, sliding dough into the warm oven.

The chairs in your cafe are plush but nothing compared to your bed. It’s making you slowly regret coming back tonight.

A loud bang rings through the silent air and immediately fear grips your heart which is thrumming in your throat. Maybe its your drowsy state that has you flinging into panic at the noise. The rubber soles of your shoes slowly squeak over the tile as you move over to grab a knife you use to score the bread. Its size won’t scare anyone off, but its sharpness is one to be reckoned with. From your fuzzy, sleepy memory, the sound came from the small storage room so with white knuckles gripping the knife, you creep over. In your rush, had the door been carelessly left open? The storage room door is ajar but you can’t see anything inside. Relaxing the slightest bit, you nudge the door open slowly, entering on tip toe. Though dimly lit, you can see that the small room is empty and relief floods you, though not completely ridding you of the former panic—your heartbeat is still in your throat.

When you return to the main room with the counter, tables, and register, cold, blinding panic returns tenfold. There’s three dark figures in your shop, crouching next to the counter, quickly stuffing their bags with the money stashed away. In a flurry, you press your back to the storage room door, cursing yourself for leaving it in there and at the front door which you left wide open.

Your mind whirls, trembling with fear and apprehension. Where was your phone? You couldn’t possibly stop these men but would the cops come in time?

“What the fuck are you bastards?” A voice rings out. Harsh. Cold. You don’t dare turn the corner to look.

A muffled cry pierces the tense air, strained grunts, and sounds of impact following in succession. There’s a loud cracking sound and a wail that raises your goosebumps and you slink back further into the shadow, hoping that whatever is happening behind the wall will leave you alone. Breathy curses and threats are thrown before visceral, bodily squelches and groans silence them. Digging your fingernails into your palms to get your hands from shaking, you tremble in the corner, even after the sounds have been reduced to low, pained moans and a pair of footsteps. They wander around, heavy and assured before edging closer to where you’re hiding. You don’t dare breath, but you don’t think breath would come even if you asked it to.

“Y/n?” At the sound of your name, your eyes grow wide, though you’re still frozen in place. The footsteps round the corner and you’re met with scuffed black boots and ripped black jeans. Squeezing your eyes shut, your mind whirls as you remember staring at those boots, tending to wounds. His wounds.

When your eyes fly open again, he’s crouching in front of you, face significantly less wounded than you’ve seen it. The sound of your knife clattering on the tile startles you into flying into his arms. He makes uncomfortable, awkward noises above you, hands floating above your back as his butt smarts from the force you knocked him over with. “Did you beat them up?” You voice is shaking and you’re either on the verge of tears or already crying into his black hoodie, filling your mind with his deep sweaty musk, “I didn’t know what to do.”

“Yeah, its not that big of a deal though. Just call the police,” he pushes you off of him with surprising gentleness, seeing that his hands are stained with the blood of those three men. On his feet in a flash, he drops a bag onto your lap. “Here is your money.”

There’s no proper reason why your hand shoots out to pull him from leaving. Maybe it’s because the would be thieves are still laying in your store, maybe its because you want to keep inhaling the warm scent he exudes, maybe it’s because the thought of being without him tonight scares you. “The police won’t believe that I did this,” you whisper, hoping that that will ward off his need to leave. It’s impossible to interpret what the dark look in his eyes are—you can never seem to read his thoughts.

Only his verbal confirmation has relief flooding your chest, “Fine.”

After tying up the perpetrators, Minho settles half an arms distance away from you, a waft of his musk filling your nose as you think you hear the piercing screech of sirens. “Were you just gonna let them take your cash?”

You were wrong. His eyes can deliver something other than blank darkness: incredulous accusation. The disbelief and an audible scoff in his question has you curling up tighter, burning with the implications he poses. You’d let these men reap the fruits of your labor; you wouldn’t try to stop them.

“Y-yeah,” you attempt, trying to concoct a reasonable excuse that would get his disapproving stare from burning off the side of your face. “There were three of them, so of course I’d let them go.”

A scoff rips from his throat, clawing at the back of your neck. “This won’t do. You know,” he turns to you, one eyebrow raised, “this’ll just be the beginning. Are you gonna be prepared to defend this shop, bub?”

You bristle at his know-it-all attitude and the patronizing nickname, “Why do you care? And why were you even here this late at night?” The pale yellow suggestions of sun peak from the inky black sky as you’re reminded that you’ve gotten no sleep. Ignoring your questions, he rises, adjusting his jeans and walking over to the policemen now at the glass door of your cafe.

Even after the robbers were detained and police left, he remains, his dark scent permeating the air around you. “Listen,” he starts, hands shoved into his pockets and the regular scowl on his face, “I was just walking back from practice and saw them in here. And you need to get protection around here.”

“And how would you suggest that?” You throw back, fueled with remaining sass. A shrug. He turns away, walking to the door. Habit says he’ll ignore you, disappearing into the lightening city horizon, but he stops, hand resting on the glass door. You slap his hand off of it, but his hand’s grimy residue clouds a part of the door already.

His shoulders drop in annoyance before he grunts, “I could teach you how to defend yourself.” Mouth agape and eyes wide, you repeat his words, “You’d teach me how to defend myself? Isn’t your season starting up soon?”

His gaze drops, you think he’s taken aback at your remembering the dates of his season. “Coach doesn’t want me sparring. Get healed or some shit. Don’t get me wrong, I’m offering because it’ll be good for me to refresh on the basics and the next shop is twenty minutes away. I’ll be inconvenienced if this shop closes anytime soon.” The thought of Minho scowling down at you as a personal defense teacher scares you, but the vivid memory as you clutched the knife terrifies you.

“When are you free?”

“No, widen your feet; squat more, bub,” Minho lets out an exasperated sigh and slips behind you, hands on your hips to adjust your stance in front of the punching bag. The yellow lights overhead and the pale wash of moonlight are the only things illuminating your ‘self defense’ classes. With as much punching as you’re doing, you think it’s more of a boxing lesson than self defense.

“One.”

Your left glove strikes the bag.

“Two.”

Right hand.

Minho repeats these instructions, the two words seemingly molding together into a mash of sounds. As his cold voice continues to command you, the burning in your lungs intensifies and your thighs, arms, and stomach ache, screaming at you to stop. _Give up. _ A voice lures you, reminding you of how your knees shake and eyes sting from sweat. “I can’t,” you whimper, hands retracting as you meet Minho’s disapproving stare. It makes you avert your gaze, the burning in your cheeks from something other than physical exertion.

“I’m heading home then.” Scoffing, Minho slings his bag over his shoulder, nodding back to you, “see you tomorrow.”

Dejected, you fumble with the straps of the boxing gloves Minho gave you, unable to grasp them when both your hands are cocooned. The usual mocking sarcastic glint in Minho’s eyes were replaced with disappointment and his abrupt departure burns your chest. Maybe you should have pushed yourself more? Maybe he shouldn’t have.

“One, two. Don’t lean into it. One, two. Rotate your wrists. One, two. Guard your jaw, he’s gonna knock you out.

“Keep going, Y/n,” interrupts the usual ‘one, two’ and your teeth grit, pulling your elbows in and snapping your punches. Minho’s lips lift from the corner of your eye and this spurs you on, extracting energy from a place you didn’t know existed. Fueled with anger—anger at yourself for having given up last session, anger at Minho for pushing you—you pummel the punching bag, breathing harshly as the sound of slapping synthetic leather fills the musky room.

“Okay, break.” The ground collides with your body as your legs give out under you. Your breathing must have been uneven, because there’s white patches in front of your vision. After blinking them away, you’re met with Minho’s outstretched hand offering a water bottle. His face is turned away from you, but his cheeks rise, insinuating a smile. With a breathing ‘thanks’, you practically inhale the water.

“Slow down, bub. You’re gonna puke.”

Laying a hand over your spazzing heart, you give him the best glare you can muster, “No thanks to you, Lee Know.” He smirks at your use of his boxer nickname, sprawling on the ground next to you.

“Y’know,” you gasp in between breaths, “I don’t think this is self defense, this is just offense.”

Minho’s head tilts in acceptance, tongue poking out to swipe at his bottom lip. “No, what you’re doing is not boxing if that’s what you’re implying.”

“Oh yeah?” You tease, pulling a face at Minho, “I’m in boxing gloves, attacking a poor boxing bag.”

The veins in his forearms strain as he leans back onto his hands, “I could show you real boxing, bub. I have a match next week. I can get you in.” Your heart clenches at the thought of seeing the blood and gore you’ve seen on Minho’s face being made. He senses your uneasiness and leans forward, hand brushing over your knee almost…timidly? “You don’t have to come, but you can. I’ll text you the details,” he shrugs, “show up or don’t.”

Maybe you shouldn’t have worn a pastel purple skirt to a boxing match but it’s too late to turn around and change. At least you had the sense to wear safety shorts and sturdy combat boots. Yelling can be heard in the distance and while you’d usually flee from sounds like that, you find the GPS on your phone leading you right to it.

The barbaric shouts are deafening as you stand in front of a grey building. A man, who’s arms are the size of your shoulders guards the door. “You lost, little girl?” He asks gruffly, but he doesn’t seem sarcastic.

“I-I um,” you clear your throat, “Lee Know has a match here?” Your statement comes off more as a question and you wince at how weak your voice sounds.

The bearded guard nods, his black shirt straining as he crosses his tree trunk forearms in front of him. “So you’re the lady he’s been babbling on ‘bout.” A blue tattoo stretches on his forearm as he opens the door, a wave of stench, heat, and yells ramming into you. Thanking the man quietly, you slip through the door. It’s an arena, like a football stadium but scaled down significantly. Burly and wiry men alike fill the seats, howling like dogs. You pull your sweater closer to you and your skirt down. The lights and sounds whirl in front of you as you try to spot Minho in the crowd. Further up, closer to the boxing ring, there’s a familiar head of black hair and broad shoulders. You hope it’s him as you squeeze past the admittedly scary crowd of men.

Tapping his shoulder, you breathe in his musky scent. It almost cancels out the stale rotting stench around you. When he turns, his eyes are dangerous and dark—you almost stumble back—but when he sees you his eyebrows shoot up. “Didn’t think you’d come,” he shouts over the chaos, “here,” he pulls your shoulders into his chest, shielding you in his arms as he begins to weave through the crowd, “my match is in a little bit so I was gonna head to the back.”

The screams are muffled now as Minho closes the door to a small, empty room. He slouches on a chair, gesturing you to do the same. “It’s always so fucking chaotic out there. I can never focus before a match. I can never think,” he mutters, mostly to himself, so you freeze, not wishing to distract him, “My mind is always somewhere else and I can’t remember anything. It’s like nothing else but my nerves exist.”

Only after a beat of silence, after Minho turns his wide eyes up to look at you, do you realize he was talking to you. “But you’re so good. You’ve been training all year,” you blurt out, not pausing to think about your words, taken aback at how innocent and lost his eyes look, “isn’t it like muscle memory?”

He groans, you worry you’ve said the wrong thing, “Yeah, I know but it’s just so fucking frustrating, bub.”

Smiling widely, you tease him with a nudge on his shoulder, “You’re gonna be great. Plus, you’ll have me cheering you on.” Awkwardly, you make punching movements, “I’ll take your opponent down if you can’t.”

That’s the first time you hear Minho laugh. A genuine, hearty laugh. Not a scoff or a mocking tease. It’s warm and sweet and surprisingly high. His eyes crinkle, still smiling at you when he stands, “Okay sounds like a plan.”

Seeing the dark glare Minho holds his opponent with as they circle the ring, you understand why Minho sports the look so often. It takes you off guard; you feel like you haven’t seen these dark eyes in a while. A strong swallow of spit tightens your throat. You blink, his opponent strikes, mitt slapping against Minho’s blocking forearm. Gasping a breath, you freeze in apprehension as the crowd around you roars to life. The sharply muscled, bald man circling Minho does not lack in speed; the blurring blue of his mitt once again slams against Minho’s forearm. The bald man tenses, charging at Minho with a flurry of attacks. Desperation clenches your throat as you will Minho to do something. He ducks his head behind his forearms, abdomen clenching at every blow inflicted to him. Soon mutters calling Minho a ‘punching bag’ and a ‘free win’ crawl into your ears. Anger flares in your chest—you know how good Minho is at fighting. Why isn’t he doing anything? However, Minho’s wiry muscled, grey haired coach standing beside you is stoic, a stark contrast to the screaming audience, hurling saliva with every abusive word they target at Minho.

“Why isn’t he doing anything?” You whisper to yourself, too engrossed in the match to care about the raw vulnerability in your voice. The bald opponent retreats, panting as Minho continues to circle him.

Minho’s coach growls, a smirk breaking his expressionless wall, “It’s over now.” Wide eyed, you turn back to the match, taking in the sweaty, hunched—you’d daresay weary—shoulders of the bald man, heaving with pants. A relief spreads a smile across your face. Minho had been doing something. The red boulder of Minho’s mitt slams into the side of the man’s head, jerking his neck awkwardly, hurling him into stumbling, expression blank shock. An electric wave of excitement shoots through you. Minho is merciless, unwilling to let his staggering opponent recover, pummeling him with firmly resounding attacks. You recognize some basic moves he’s taught you, only now do you realize capabilities of those punches put into action.

The red of Minho’s mitt is soon darkened with the seeping blood of his opponent and the fickle crowd now screams Minho’s name, invigorating him, causing his blows to land harder, until the bald man is thrown onto the blood spattered floor. The referee slams the ground thrice and the crowd erupts into a cacophony of cheers and groans.

A satisfied smirk cuts across Minho’s barely harmed face as he unfurls his sweaty arms in victory, bathing in the cheers of those who bet on him and the cries of those who bet against him alike. His coach turns to you, a satisfied twist to his lips, a wad of cash already in his clutched, calloused hand, “This is why he wasn’t doing anything, sweetheart,” he says, shaking the money, “Minho’s a tough kid but he’s also a smart kid.” After a pause, his coach shifts, frowning in, “You’re the first person Minho’s brought to a match. Nobody else. Take care of him,” he warns.

Minho’s panting presence behind you raises goosebumps on your neck. You turn to see his glistening bare abdomen as he towels himself off with a sweat rag. Bruises bloom on his forearm and but he ignores them, receiving the majority of the cash from his coach.

“Let’s get out of here before some ass crack takes his faulty betting out on me,” he says, resting a hot hand on the small of your back, guiding you to the back exit, ignoring jeering crowd members. The empty night greets you and he nods to a black car, gruffly explaining, “You walked here, right bub?”

“Yes, also,” you gush, “that was pretty cool."

He looks away, deflecting with, “Yeah, get in.”

“Why do you do it?” You ask, strapping your seatbelt on and retrieving the makeshift first aid kit from your purse.

The car murmurs to life and Minho’s voice is surprisingly quiet and soft, “I got into a lot of fights up to high school so coach came up to me and asked me if I wanted to make it a profession,” a pause and Minho murmurs, “he took me in, taught me how to channel the joy I got from fighting. Turn it into something better. Focused.”

“He seems really proud of you,” you observe, leaning over to rub a salve onto his shallowly cut lip. “You should put on more chapstick, Minho. Where’s the one I gave you?”

Under flash of passing yellow streetlights, you can almost make out a dusting of pink on Minho’s cheeks. “I lost it,” he admits, tilting his head slightly to give you better access to his lip.

Sighing, you settle back onto the carseat. “I can take better care of you when we get there.” Minho’s eyes are wide, looking back from the road to you, “Where?”

A clench of nervousness holds your gut, but you shrug, “Yours, mine, I don’t care.”

It’s Minho’s turn to be flustered; he nods quickly.

Minho’s apartment is bare, only cluttered with various trophies and medals, a ground table, a tv, and a small couch. You set down his bag, you insisted you carried it and Minho opens a cabinet, retrieving the first aid kit. He settles on the couch, legs crossed tightly underneath him. For some reason, its stupidly endearing. The alcohol on his cut stings and Minho’s eyebrow furrows in pain. “Y’know, you don’t have to be tough around me, Minho.”

His eyes are blank, “What do you mean?”

“You barely let yourself feel pain, you’re always glaring at something, and you never open up about anything. You don’t have to be like that around me, Minho.”

An eyebrow lifts and he tilts his head to the side slightly, “I told you about coach,” he offers.

You nod slowly, “Yeah, that’s true. I guess, I just like seeing you smile,” you shrug, “that’s all.”

Suddenly bashful, Minho looks down, biting his lip to repress a smile.

“That’s what I mean!” You exclaim, placing your hands on his cheeks to cradle his face, forcing him to look up at you, your heart in your throat. He groans, an endeared smile finally breaking out, “Quit being so fucking cute and maybe I could think enough to talk properly to you, bub.”

Burning excitement fills your chest and you pose with a peace sign, “You think I’m cute?”

An exasperated roll of his eyes is all the answer you need. “Well,” you say, patting his head, “you’re very cute too.”

This time, his scoff is soft, “I’m a boxer.”

You press a bandaid over his cut, “Yes, a very adorable boxer who needs to smile more.” He breaks out into laughs, filling you with bubbly warmth, gazing down at you with eyes that are anything but dark and dangerous. It’s warm and tender. He is. Sobering up, Minho tilts his head slightly, his eyes traveling down to your lips.

Anticipation fills your chest and your mind whirls, not knowing what to do so you blurt out, “Oh yeah! Chapstick,” leaning over, you retrieve a tube, “Here.” Minho, however is unfazed by your awkwardness and cocks an eyebrow, suddenly confident, nodding to the chapstick, “Put it on for me.”

Its your turn to blush, but you do still, not realizing that this isn’t clear chapstick. Its only when you pull away do you realize his lips are painted a pretty shade of pink. Clapping in joy you shove your phone camera in his face. “You’re so pretty!”

Stuttering in surprise, his eyes bug out but he doesn’t make any move to wipe it off, “The fuck?”

“So pretty!” You exclaim, holding his face to put more on, laughing at his shocked expression. Minho pulls back, tumbling you with him until you’re staring down and all your laughter has been swallowed. Silently, his hand travels up to the back of your head, gently pulling you towards his freshly moisturized lips. Smiling because of nerves, you don’t need his hand to guide you.

His lips are surprisingly soft but perfectly sticky with your pink chapstick. Almost timidly, his tongue caresses your bottom lip and you whimper as he eases your lips apart. Saliva gathers at the corners of your mouth and your arm cramps from holding yourself up over him but he’s so gentle and careful with the kiss you don’t want to stop. Your arm gives out and you press against Minho, snaking your fingers into his slightly sweaty hair. Panting, Minho pulls back as he gazes up at you, his eyes wide and sparkling. “I don’t want to go too fast, Y/n,” he whispers, thumb gently caressing your cheekbone.

Brazen with unfound confidence, you pout at him, “No. Be mine now.” Minho smirks, laughing softly as his eyes crinkle up, “Okay, okay,” he reassures you, pulling you down to lay on his chest, “I’ll be yours.”

“Don’t you dare do that, Y/n. I’ll sue you,” Minho threatens, eyes wide but voice joking.

Giggling, you ignore him, continuing to create a new dessert of your own design called the ‘Minho Mochi’. It’s a soft peach mochi covered with waffle cone. “No, I take inspiration from you and plus,” you mention, “you said yourself that the juxtaposition of the soft sweet mochi and the shell of the waffle cone was good.”

“Yeah,” he groans, plucking a mochi ball from the counter and popping into his mouth, “but that was before you decided to use my name for it, bub.”

Reaching up to clean the potato starch residue on his lip you correct, “I made the mochi with you in mind first, not the other way around.” Minho mumbles half heartedly, turning away to smile but you tug his arm. He’s blushing and grinning softly; your heart clenches in adoration.

“I can make you one for every match you have, would that make you feel better?”

Minho laughs, bringing your potato starch and rice flour covered hand to nuzzle his cheek, “Fine, I guess this is what I get for having girlfriend that owns a purple bakery.”

“Hey!” You deny, pulling back, “This is lavender, not just purple.”

“Yes, yes,” he agrees quickly, tugging you into him. “I’m covered in flour,” you protest into his chest, his deep musk a relieving break from the sweet scent of mochi. You feel him press kisses to the top of your head as his arms tighten around you so you relax into him, circling his waist with your arms.

“You should really decorate this place, Min,” you comment, gesturing at his bare apartment. You’re comfortably draped across his shoulders from the couch as he sits on the floor. He looks back from the TV, eyes wide and a puppy-like pout graces his now well moisturized lips, “What do you mean? I have my trophies as decoration.”

Groaning you protest, “No, those are trophies. You need proper deco here, it’s just sad.”

A familiar, flirty smile spreads across his face and he winks at you, “You’re prettier than any other decorations I can get.”

Though you feel your face burning, you roll your eyes at him, trying to suppress the smile bubbling in your chest. He gets up to sit next to you on the couch. Still smiling, he pats his lap, making your stomach jump in excitement. Settling down on his thighs, you play with the collar of his shirt, avoiding his stare. He ducks his head, forcing you to look at him. “Why you shy, bub?”

“I really love you, Min.”

His eyes are soft and you don’t expect him to say it back. You’re just content that he knows.

“I love you too, bub.”

You’re at Minho’s apartment basically every day for the past year and today’s no different. The soft beating of his heart resounds in your ear while the other listens to the calming voice of the audio book you guys are working through. The plot follows a personified kitten who tries to find her place in the world that is too cruel for her. Despite the objectively morbid theme, this part of the story is hopeful—the kitten has found friends and feels at home.

When the narrator concludes the end of the chapter, Minho reaches over to turn the recording off. You take the opportunity to crane your neck up and plant a kiss on his lips. He smiles softly, grabbing your waist so that you’re straddling his hips. One hand travels up to gently tug on your chin, deepening the kiss. His tongue is hot and lavishes against yours, a juxtaposition between his hand, methodically stroking your hair. Your fingers dance across his face, stroking his cheekbones, tracing his jawline and neck.

Soon, your fingers are replaced by your mouth and Minho’s Adam’s apple bobs with the groan he lets out. The fire in your chest and the beginning aching in your core has you tugging at the hem of his soft black tee shirt. His breath is shaky on your cheek as you pull the shirt over his head, softly dropping it next to the bed. Sitting back on his hips, you gaze down at his bare chest, wonder and admiration filling your heart as your hands travel across his toned torso. The lightest breeze of pink blush blows across his cheeks so you lean down to reattach your open mouth to his. The whirling in your mind rids your thoughts of everything except how he feels under you. His wet lips against yours, rising of his chest against yours, his hips pressing against yours.

So his tense voice catches you off guard, “Y/n, are you sure?” He’s pulled back and his eyebrows are furrowed softly, his pretty lips red and swollen but glossy with your spit.

Your gaze drops, hands fumbling to play with his hair. “I want to but if you wanna still take it slow, I’m fine wit—”

“I want you too, Y/n,” he whispers. Hungrily, he pulls off your shirt, sitting up to cradle you in his arms as he nuzzles your breasts, pressing hot kisses against your skin. Sighing contently, you unclip your bra and try not to blush at the dumb, awestruck look on Minho’s face. His rough hands come up to gently fondle them and you press kisses to his forehead and cheeks.

“You’re beautiful, Y/n,” he breathes, his hands firm against your bare waist as he gingerly turns you over so your back is pressed against the cool sheets. “We can take it slow.” Nervousness tightens your stomach and you’re sure he can feel the thrumming of your pulse as he slowly drags down your pants, maintaining eye contact. An endearing toothy smile spreads across his face and he hides it by kissing your tummy, trailing down to your pantie covered core. “Tell me if you’re uncomfortable or wanna stop, okay?”

You smile softly, “Okay, you too.” Minho nods, reaching up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. “I’m gonna make you feel so good, Y/n,” he murmurs, reaching to tug off your underwear. Being completely bare underneath someone would make anyone ashamed or uncomfortable and your face burns as his glossy eyes take your most vulnerable state in. His lips are parted slightly and the soft glow of the lamp casts shadows of his eyelashes onto his red cheeks. A harsh swallow has his Adam’s apple bobbing. “God, you’re dripping, Y/n” He whispers, eyes shining, “Are you ready?”

“I’m ready, Minho,” you confirm. He slides his finger into your hot, aching core, his lip caught in his teeth as he watches his digit being sucked in. Slowly, Minho pushes his finger deeper into you, gaze dancing from your face to your core.

“M-more please,” you whimper, consumed by the unfamiliar feeling of your velvety walls around something. When he adds another finger deep inside you, you gasp, a hand traveling down to clutch his free one. His thumb strokes the back of your hand as his other continues, scissoring into you as wet sounds fill his bedroom. When his fingers curl up, hot white pleasure shoots through you and Minho smiles proudly, working at that spot.

“H-holy fuck,” you moan, head rolling from shoulder to shoulder at the unfamiliar pleasure.

“I think that’s the first time I’ve heard you curse, bub,” Minho muses, releasing your hand to push himself up the bed so that your faces are close together.

“I-its because of you, Minho.”

That triggers something in him and his eyes turn dark, but rather than scaring you, it makes the coil in the pit of your stomach tighten. When Minho removes his fingers from you, it unwinds slowly but clenches at the sight of his now solid length being pulled out of his sweats. His eyelashes flutter closed on his cheeks as he strokes himself with his fingers, still slick from your juices as he retrieves a condom from the bedstand and rolls it on, hissing at the friction. “Are you ready, Y/n?” He pants softly, eyes hooded as he stares down at you, hand still moving up and down his red glistening cock in a way that has your pussy throbbing and mouth salivating. You respond by hooking your legs around his hips, smiling as he leans down to kiss your lips softly. His tip pokes at your hot core and you sling your arms around his shoulders.

Minho’s eyes are piercing as he gazes darkly at you, searching for the slightest trace of hesitance on your part. Painstakingly slowly, he slides into you. Maybe the foreplay did help to prepare you, but the stretch has tears pooling at the corners of your eyes and he’s not even all the way in you. Shakily, Minho exhales, eyebrows furrowing as he tries to hold back from pistoning into you. His lips press into the tears forming and spilling over at your eyes and he nuzzles your cheek with his nose softly, staying still until you reassure him, “Okay, you can keep going.”

His teeth and tongue travel over your neck as he fully enters you, but his soft hiss has you unintentionally tightening around him. “Ah, Y/n don’t,” he groans, lifting his head from looking at the place you two are connected at to to smile at you. “Can I start?”

You nod, hooking your ankles around his hips, “Yeah, just go slow for now.” Minho starts thrusting deep into you, angling his hips and going slow enough to feel the drag of your soaking walls rub against his throbbing cock. “You feel so good,” he moans, reaching to hold your hand as his hips continue to rock against you.

“I-I feel so full,” you whisper, squeezing his hand and he smiles softly at you, eyes crinkling up. “C-can you go faster?”

His tongue pokes out to wet his lips and he snaps his hips into yours, groaning. The lustful and loving sounds of skin slapping resounds in the room, mixing with both of your moans to create a beautiful sound you tuck away in your mind. Minho pulls out till the tip before slamming into you, sweat forming at his forehead. With his free hand, Minho reaches down to rub your clit in tempo with his powerful thrusts. Moaning loudly, you whimper, “P-please, Min I-I think I’m gonna,” your words get swallowed by another moan when Minho’s hips increase their pace, his stamina through the roof.

“Me too, Y/n,” he pants, “Cum for me.”

The hot coil tightens and you squeeze your eyes shut, overwhelmed at the sensation until white, electric pleasure crashes through you and you release around Minho’s length. He moans loudly, quickly chasing his high. His face twists in pleasure as he reaches his high and your fuzzy brain is left awestruck at his beauty. Minho collapses next to you, removing the condom, chest heaving in deep pants as he stares into your eyes, smiling like an idiot.

“How was that, Y/n?” He asks, arms circling your shoulder, pulling you close.

You giggle into his chest, fingers tracing imaginary doodles, “That was fucking crazy, Min.”

Minho’s chest bubbles with laughter and he boops your nose, scrunching his own nose up, “That’s great cause I was kinda worried about giving you a bad experience and all.”

Looking up and tapping your chin with a finger in mock thinking you smile, “I loved it, but I want you to call me cute names, Min.”

“I call you bub. But you mean like princess? Babygirl?” he says, an eyebrow raised.

You roll your eyes, “Bub is not a cute name but yes, the others are okay.” “Okay,” Minho laughs, gently rubbing his nose against yours, “You’re my princess, you’re my babygirl, and you’re always my bub.”

Minho shuffles in the sheets, turning to face you, an excited smile on his face, “Just move in with me. You’re already here more than your own place and it’s unsafe there.” Still after loving him for so long, your stomach churns with nervousness, but you laugh softly, scooting closer so that you can bury your nose into his bare chest to breathe his scent in deeply. “This apartment building is safer than mine?” His arms find their way around you and he hold you close, his chest rumbling against your face with every word, “It’s safer because I’m here.” Laughing you pull back, supporting your weight with one arm as you gaze down at him. He lifts an eyebrow, stretching his arms towards you and you can’t help but collapse into them. “Okay, I’ll move in with you.”

A shining smile breaks out across Minho’s face and he nuzzles his nose into your hair softly, gently stroking your bare back.

528 notes · View notes