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#can you believe I was 18 when I started this blog?
sin-djarin · 1 day
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do you think i'm spooky?
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Pairing: Dieter Bravo x gn!reader
Summary: You run into someone at an event for the 30th anniversary of The X Files premiering.
Rating: T. This blog and its contents are 18+. MDNI.
Word Count: 1.5k (Sorry!)
Warnings: Potential X Files spoilers (nothing major, I promise), reader is said to have a job and adores The X Files but is otherwise undescribed, some innuendo but the rest is mostly fluff, no use of Y/N.
A/N: This is a submission for the @dieterbravobrainrotclub. The trope was 'meet cute' and the prompt was 'do you believe in aliens?'. I'm being super self indulgent and combining two of my favourite things. This is also the first thing I've finished since...January? Also brought to you by a slight fever. Okay, love you, bye.
It's just a date to most people. Just another Friday. Except for you, and the ten or so other people sitting with you, it’s the 30th anniversary of The X Files premiere. You’d succeeded in grabbing a last minute ticket to an event in a gallery you’ve never heard of, in a part of town you weren’t so familiar with to celebrate.
Details about the event were sparse at best, save for a promise of a screening of the first episode. Even so, you bid farewell to the Dana Scully bobblehead on your desk at 5.02pm and made the trek across the city. In reality, it’s less of a gallery and more of an event space for all sorts, but X Files inspired artwork from local artists adorn the walls.
You don’t know how many times you’ve watched it. It’s the show you go back to after scrolling through apps and channels trying to find something that catches your attention. Sometimes you do find something new, and it’s nice. When that happens, you can join in a conversation in the kitchen at work about whatever’s trending.
Other times, you can’t concentrate on anything at all and you find yourself back with Mulder and Scully. You know exactly what will happen and when. It’s on in the background when you fold laundry. You marathon it every year at Halloween. It’s safe.
So, you settle back in the folding metal chair at the back of the room, a grin threatening to spread wide across your face as soon as Truitt says “it’s happening again isn’t it?” right before you’re introduced to Dr Dana Scully for the umpteenth time. You were so lost in watching your favorite FBI agents about to become colleagues for the first time that you barely heard the door open and close behind you and hardly felt the empty seat next to yours being filled in the dim light. 
“Sorry. Sorry.” He apologizes to you for his late arrival, before your eyes are drawn back to the wall in front of you where the episode is being projected from a laptop. 
A soft lull of laughs fills the room when Scully utters the immortal words Spooky Mulder and your own heart almost skips a beat. The man beside you doesn’t so much as chuckle. A quick glance to your left and his brows are knitted together under a mass of fluffy hair, lips pursed, concentrating intently on the grainy footage.
“Sorry, nobody down here but the FBI's most unwanted.”
Maybe it’s the shitty sound blaring from the computer. Maybe it's just a bad rip of the episode. Maybe you’ve actually managed to watch it too many times and David Duchovny’s voice has started to reverberate inside your brain but you swear the line repeats itself.
More dialogue echoes again, a little louder this time. Not enough for it to be an interruption, you can hardly call it that after consuming it so many times, but it's enough for you to try to look for the source of it.
"Einstein's Twin Paradox, A New Interpretation. Dana Scully Senior Thesis." 
The woman sitting directly in front of you turns her head and clicks her tongue at the man next to you but it doesn’t seem to faze him. 
“That's why they put the "I" in "F.B.I."
It’s coming from him. 
You can’t be annoyed. You’re impressed. It’s jarring even - someone else sharing your very own unusual if not all but useless skill. 
They’re practiced, the way he’s saying the words, studied. All of them uttered in such a way that you don’t pick up from watching an episode once or twice. They might be hushed but the cadence and tone are almost, if not completely identical to Mulder’s.
As you watch, or at least try to, he continues, muttering a line under his breath here and there. And you keep listening.
When he doesn’t speak, he twirls the rings around on his knuckles then flexes them. And when he’s not doing that, he’s combing his fingertips through the fuzz on his chin, itching for Gillian Anderson to feed him his next line.
And she does, asking “who is it?”
“Steven Spielberg.” He mimics in perfect synchronicity with Mulder.
A giggle at his perfect timing and delivery escapes you and for the first time, he turns to face you.
“Shit. Sorry. I’m sorry.” He says, loud enough to earn himself a warning glare from the same woman he pissed off a few moments ago. 
He does stop talking and the two of you watch on as Mulder and Scully get acquainted and bicker about what’s real and what’s not, in hospitals, in the Oregon forests, and in their respective hotel rooms.
While you’re cast back to the first time you watched this episode and to when your love of the 'will they, won’t they' trope began, your fellow attendee is vibrating in his chair. His knees are bouncing and his bejeweled hands are balled into fists like he’s ready to burst from trying to contain himself.  
You get a glimpse of his tongue licking at the corner of his mouth, desperate to occupy it.
Until he can’t. 
“Scully? It's me, I haven't been able to sleep. I talked to the D.A.'s office in Raymon County, Oregon. There's no case file on Billy Miles. The paperwork we filed is gone. We need to talk, Scully.”
As he matches the final lines word for word and syllable for syllable, your eyes widen at his skill but he takes no notice, still staring dead ahead at the credits rolling.
The lights come up and most of the crowd clears out but you take the time to appreciate the prints and memorabilia on the walls. There’s a mishmash of everything; portraits of Skinner, FBI ID badges and vintage trading cards from the 90s.
You come to a stop in front of an abstract interpretation of Mulder’s Jersey Devil drawing and a familiar voice speaks up from behind you.
“Do you believe in the existence of extraterrestrials?”
You turn your body and the guy who was seated next to you for nearly forty minutes is now leaning in to examine an oil painting of little gray men with his back turned to you.
Curiosity piqued, you play along and answer, “I want to believe.”
He whips his head around, revealing a playful smirk creeping across his lips at your words from behind the popped collar of his coat,
Two big brown eyes peer at you over dark sunglasses before he presses you again, “Really? Do you believe in aliens?”
“Maybe not the green guys in spaceships but it’s hard to think we’re alone in a universe so big, right?” you shrug.
He ambles towards you, his fluffy brown teddy bear coat swaying with every step. It’s almost comical that he’s made no real effort to go incognito apart from his shades. His earlier ramblings make sense then - Dieter Bravo hardly won an Oscar for nothing. You’ve seen his face on billboards and strolling along red carpets but he seems to slide right into place in what’s really nothing more than a fancy warehouse down a side street. 
“I wanted to apologize actually,” he says sheepishly, pulling off his sunglasses. “For back there. I couldn’t help it.”
You shake your head, “I’ve seen it more than enough times. You had me fooled though. Thought I might have been sitting next to Mr Duchovny himself,” you smile.
“Yeah? What’s your favourite episode?” he asks with his face lighting up before taking a seat on a bench along the wall.
You don’t have one. You have multiple. Part of you whirls into action, ready to gush about so many and why. The other part of you tells you to act somewhat normal around a celebrity and to not spook him with your endless amounts of trivia. 
“Bad Blood, maybe?” 
But Dieter beams back at you with that recognizable crooked smile, “Oh yeah! Where he’s like ‘I was drugged’ and the shoelaces and Luke Wilson.” 
“What about you?”
“Shit,” he sighs. “So many. The driving one, where he can’t stop driving, I can’t remember the name. Ice is good. X-Cops-“
“You like X-Cops?” you cut him off because no one ever admits that they like X-Cops.
“Who doesn’t like X-Cops?! It’s so self aware!” he exclaims, defending his answer. 
Dieter Bravo has been painted as a lot of things; from an eccentric to a disaster but you could never have really pegged him for an X-Files super fan. Especially not one with your level of enthusiasm.
You take a seat beside him for the second time that evening and he tells you that his favourite cryptid is El Chupacabra. You tell him you don’t really believe in those, that there’s no real evidence but he’s pretty convincing with his knowledge of BigFoot. 
Eventually the lights hanging over the artwork begin to turn off one by one around you both but you could have easily stayed and listened to him tell you that he had a crush on Mulder and Scully all night. 
“Maybe we can watch the next episode together?” Dieter suggests as you stand up from the bench to head towards the door. 
“Deep Throat?” you offer and his scruffy jaw drops. “It’s the name of the second episode.”
“Yeah,” he stammers, his voice breaking at your clarification. “Dinner and…deep throat.”
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mandelene · 9 months
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It's my 8 year anniversary on Tumblr 🥳
I’M OLD. 😭
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rafeandonlyrafe · 6 months
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a bet's a bet
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rafe participates in no nut november
words: 1.9k
warnings: 18+ only, smut, female masturbation (with toys), p in v sex, unprotected sex
taglist: @drewstarkeysbae @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @slut4drudy @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs
nov. 1
“this is the stupidest thing i’ve ever heard.” you cross your arms over your chest, but your boyfriend doesn’t give in, remaining steadfast.
“i already agreed to the bet, baby. you can’t change my mind.” rafe simply says, focusing on looking out the window instead of at you, avoiding your glare.
“i have needs too rafe! i can’t believe you’d agree to this without talking to me first.” you stand up from the couch, tired of this conversation. you grab your laptop and head up to your shared bedroom.
if rafe was going to make a stupid bet to not cum for the entire month of november, then you are at least going to repurchase a vibrator and dildo that rafe threw away when you first started dating, claiming you’d never need them again.
you pay for rush shipping and use rafes credit card, because fuck him.
nov. 3
“come on, just eat my pussy.” you groan, legs spread wide open on the bed, trying to convince rafe to pleasure you, but he just shakes his head no.
“baby, if i eat you out, i’m going to fuck you too. i can’t cum and break the bet, it’s only november 3rd. it’s been three days, we can do this.”
you close your legs as rafe lays down in bed next to you. you shouldn’t even be particularly needy yet. it’s not like you haven’t gone this amount of time before without having sex, but knowing you can’t have him is torture. 
you can’t imagine a world without rafes cock, you’ve gotten so used to being stretched out by him on the regular that an entire month without is giving you withdrawal symptoms, increasing your horniness to unbearable levels.
nov. 5
look what just arrived. you attach a picture of your opened package, pink dildo and vibrator sat inside the box.
rafe reads the message but doesn’t deem you a reply, too busy doing whatever with barry. you honestly doesn’t care as you cunt pulses, needing to feel something inside of it, knowing it won’t be anywhere near as satisfying as rafes cock, but it will do. for now.
you strip yourself free of clothing and lay down on the bed, not even needing to go into the hidden album on your phone of nudes rafe has sent you, or when he snatched your phone off the nightstand and videoed you getting fucked, you simply imagine rafe being there, being the one touching you.
you send snaps to rafe, hoping to entice him into coming home and giving you his cock, but when you send him a video of you coming on the dildo, he simply replies with good try princess.
nov. 6
“aren’t you jealous of my dildo?” you ask, purposely leaving it out on the bed, but rafe doesn’t say a word as he lays down for the night.
“of course i am. this is hell for me too, y/n, but a bet is bet.”
nov. 7
“they won’t even know. just fuck me, i need it.” you whine, rocking against the seat that you’re sat on, not even caring that you’re out on rafes boat, and anyone could see you, not when he’s shirtless, muscles gleaming in the sun, a slight sweat sheening his skin from the high temperature.
“i can’t lie, princess. besides, they’ll know.”
“please, i’m desperate.” you beg, sliding off the stool to sit next to rafe on the captains bench as he effortlessly steers the boat towards deeper water.
“sorry baby.” rafe just tsks.
“can we make out at least? you’ve barely kissed me at all this month.” it’s true, in an effort to keep himself from growing a boner and losing self control, rafe has kept all of your kisses brief.
“fine, but keep your hands away.” rafe says, also missing your lips against his.
you were hoping you could press your body against his, at least get some relief, but rafe does make you keep your distance as your lips glide over his.
nov. 9
“i think this counts as girlfriend cruelty.” you cross your arms over your chest after another unsuccessful attempt at begging rafe to fuck you.
“i’ll make it up with a shopping spree.” rafe offers, and it’s not as good as his dick, but you still agree to it.
nov. 10
“does it feel as good as me?” rafe whispers in your ear, resisting the urge to reach down and help you out as you’re sat on the bed, fucking yourself with your new dildo as he tries to ignore the pulsating erection, forcing himself to think about things that turn him off, even as you’re laid out masturbating in front of him.
“fuck no it doesn’t.” you grunt, desperate for an orgasm even though you hate doing it solo, especially when rafe is right there, able to help. “which is why you should give up on this stupid bet and fuck me. need your cock, baby, i miss it.” “sorry.” rafe kisses your cheek, but still watches you in fascination as you cum.
nov. 12
“miss you.” you tell rafe, snuggling into his side as his arms are wrapped around you, keeping you tight to his body as you cuddle, having just enjoyed a lazy day together.
“miss you too baby.” rafe kisses the top of your head, letting his hands touch your, rub over your back, but never venturing into dangerous territory.
“want you so bad.” you complain. you don’t mean to ruin the sweet moment, but you really are beyond desperate for rafe.
“18 more days, we can do it.” rafe says, but you’re really not sure that you can.
nov. 13
“maybe i’ll go sleep with topper.” you say, hands on your hips, finally getting rafes attention as his head snaps up.
“fuck you will not.” he grunts.
“well, this bet is between you topper and kelce, right? maybe i’ll just go make them cum and then you can finally fuck me. i would also get some new dick out of it.” “you’re being a brat.” rafe says, knowing they’re idle threats, there’s no way you’d ever cheat on rafe, you just want to get him to break.
“well what are you going to do?” you taunt. “it’s not like you can punish me.”
rafe just smirks.
nov. 15
“what are you working on?” you ask rafe, placing your hands on his shoulders as he types away on his laptop. you bend down and give him a kiss on the cheek as he hums about whatever project he’s doing. you rub your hands over his shoulders, mumbling something about tension and working too much.
you let your hands move forward against his chest, and then lower and lower, until rafe is pushing your hand away from his crotch.
“come on, please.” you pout.
“you’re halfway there, baby. we can do this. a little bit longer and i’ll make you cum every day in december.” “multiple times a day, i think i’ve earned it.” you argue back.
nov. 16
you’ve had it. you’re sitting watching rafe work out, pussy dripping into you’re underwear, and you’re done with the games and the stupid bet, you’re getting your boyfriend to fuck you today.
you leave the home gym, rafe asking you where you’re going as he lifts the weight, but you ignore him. you head into your bedroom, changing into rafes favorite pair of lingerie and a tall pair of heels that still don’t cause you to reach his height.
you walk back down the stairs, heels clicking on the hardwood floor as you reenter the gym.
“fuck, baby, don’t do this to me.” rafe drops his head into his hands, physically unable to look at you.
“no. fuck this bet. it’s so stupid, rafe, i’m about to explode. i need you to fuck me. i don’t care what you lose.” “fine.” rafe says, and you think you misheard him at first.
“what?” you question.
“get the fuck over here before i change my mind, god i need you.” rafe stands, meeting you halfway as your bodies clash, lips pressed hard against each others as you paw at rafes clothes, needing to see him in all his naked glory.
you don’t even care that he’s sweaty from the gym, or that he’s lowering you onto the tiled floor instead of your bed. you’re not going to take the time to move even a foot.
“take your shorts off, fuck.” you groan, hands slipping as you try to push them down his hips. 
rafe pauses his assault on your mouth to push his shoulders and underwear down, his hard cock springing free, tip already leaking with his balls hanging heavy down, filled with need from going without an orgasm for so long.
you pull your underwear to the side, revealing your soaked cunt. all it took was rafe agreeing to have sex that you got a rush of wetness.
rafe doesn’t waste time fingering you to open you up. you’ve been consistent enough with your dildo that it doesn’t hurt at all as he slides in, his warmth pressing against your walls as rafe groans, eyes fluttering shut as he cums before he even gives you one thrust, spurting into your pussy.
it’s too quick for you, but you still moan, clit pulsing as you finally get your boyfriend inside of you again.
“fuck, forgot how fucking tight you are.” rafe moans, and despite just cumming, he begins to snap his hips again already, fucking the cum further into you.
you reach down with one hand to rub your clit, pulling your boobs out of your bra with the other, letting them bounce with every hard thrust rafe delivers, not going easy on you despite it being 16 full days since you last had him.
“never doing no nut november again.” rafe promises you, pressing your lips back together in a searing kiss as you wrap your free arm around his shoulder and pulling him into you, his chest pressing against your sensitive nipples.
“i love your cock so much.” you moan, knowing when this is over you are going right upstairs and throwing that dildo away again.
“cum for me baby.” rafe begs, already feeling a second orgasm build, somehow having more cum to give you.
“yes, rafe!” you shout, back arching up off the floor as you cum, rubbing your clit to completion as rafe finishes inside you again, the excess of cum spilling out even as he keeps himself deep inside of you.
rafe collapses on top of you, twisting to the side so all your weight isn’t on him. he flinches when his bare skin hits the floor. “fuck, it’s cold.”
“it’s tile, dummy.” you giggle, causing rafe to groan when your pussy tightens. “take me upstairs, please.” you press your lips to rafe.
“i need a little bit of a break, baby.” rafe says, and you can tell from the way his cock is steadily softening inside of you.
“nope, you can eat me out until you’re ready to go again. i absolutely deserve this.” rafe laughs softly, “okay, you do.”
nov. 17
“you didn’t tell me this is what you had to do if you lost!” you shout at rafe as he looks at himself in the mirror.
“would it have changed how crazy horny you were?” rafe asks.
“i mean- no.” you sigh. “but you could have told me! i probably could have made it 15 more days if you just fingered me or something!” “do you wanna do it for me or do i have to do it myself?” rafe asks, causing you to snatch the clippers out of his hand.
“i’ll do it.” you run the blade over his head, watching as the gorgeous blond strands of hair fall off your boyfriends head, having to buzz it because he couldn’t resist fucking you for an entire month.
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marvelouslizzie · 8 months
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Not Lonely Anymore
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summary: You hear your roommate Bucky Barnes moan your name while masturbating and it changes everything between you two.
pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
word count: 3K
warnings: 18+, dry jumping (brief), unprotected sex, daddy kink, metal arm kink, choking, teasing, dirty talk, no mention of y/n.
A/N: Hello hello! I present you the last part of my Lonely Night series. I am so grateful for your interest in the first two parts. I tried to keep my motivation up and give these two perverts a satisfying ending. I hope you will enjoy it as much as I did. Your feedback would be much appreciated.
You don't have to read the first two parts to understand what's going on but if you want to, please check my blog/masterlist for A Lonely Night and Same Lonely Night.
Thank you so much @notafunkiller for beta-reading and editing. Daddy kink and choking is for you ✌️
All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission.
Read more tag starts after the second paragraph of the story.
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You can’t take your eyes off Bucky while you're processing what has just happened. Your eyes roam around his face and bare chest before falling on his shorts. His erection is pressed against the waistband, carefully hidden away from you but the wetness forming on the fabric betrays Bucky’s intentions. You can’t contain your smile, but Bucky doesn’t see it. He’s too lost in his own thoughts, and when your eyes meet, you realize he is worried and embarrassed. He opens his mouth, wanting to say something in order to end this awkward silence, but you beat him to it.
“Did you just say my name?” It comes out so calm, you even surprise yourself.
You know he did. You heard it with your own ears loud and clear. That’s why you dropped your glass after all. But it was that shocking to you. That unbelievable! So you just want him to confirm it. To make it real and assure you that really happened. Maybe then you will be able to believe it.
“I- I can explain.” You notice the cold sweat forming on his forehead.
He seems like a scared kid who got caught doing something he shouldn’t do. And it’s probably because he thinks he might lose you. You would feel the same way if he was the one who caught you masturbating just an hour ago. God, that would be mortifying, but now that you are on the other side of the equation, all you feel is excitement.
The realization eventually sinks in: he wants you. He actually wants you. That gives you a level of confidence you never had before.
You take a step forward and close the distance. Your lips are on his before he can react. You wanted to do this for a long time, but you had been unsure if he would have wanted it or not. You have a clear answer now, so there’s no need to hold yourself back. It takes him a second to respond to you, but you don’t hesitate. You just keep kissing him and it wakes him up like he has been hibernating for a long time.
His hands wrap around your torso and he pulls you closer. His fingers are digging into your hips like he’s trying to convince himself this is real, and he tilts his head just enough to deepen the kiss. His tongue gently slides into your mouth and that makes you moan for the first time. His lips, his tongue… He tastes so sweet. You just can’t get enough of it. It makes you crave him even more, and you don’t know how that is even possible.
Suddenly you push him, hoping to get him back inside his bedroom, but he doesn’t move an inch. He just gives you a dazed look, trying to understand why you did that.
“Work with me. Just move back.” You sound impatient, and he finally understands what you are trying to do.
“Fine.” He raises both of his hands like he’s surrendering, with a smile on his face, then he takes a step back and lets you push him further inside the room. You continue until the back of his knees hits the bed and he falls onto it after one final push.
“Is that what you wanted?” He sounds amused.
“Yeah.” You straddle him without missing a beat, getting comfortable on his lap while he pulls you in for another kiss.
This time it feels a little different. His hands are on your cheeks, holding you still while his tongue explores your mouth. It is the most passionate kiss you have ever had in your life. His erection is standing right there, between your legs and you can’t help yourself… You can’t stop that urge that’s slowly building up and why would you? You’re on his lap, finally doing this. There’s no need to stop yourself from doing what you want. So while he tastes you however he wants, you start to move your hips. After a couple of tries, you find the perfect spot and both of you moan nearly at the same.
He stops kissing you for a second just to take a breath, but he still holds your cheeks with his big hands and looks into your eyes. It’s like he’s afraid you might disappear. You have no plans of disappearing or stopping, though. You keep moving your hips and watching his eyes flutter every time you rub the right spot. It feels good even with the fabric between you two. Yet it’s not enough.
“We should get rid of your shorts.”
“And your panties.”
You raise yourself on your knees, just enough for him to push his shorts down, but you don't give him enough space to take them off completely.
“I don’t wanna use any protection. Do we have to?”
“Well, we don’t have to, but we might need to.” He’s not sure how fertile he is. It’s not like he tried it before, so it’s quite risky. All he knows is he has a lot more come than an average man and that’s a problem when it comes to using condoms. They are practically useless.
“I’m on the pill.” You quickly clarify. You only asked the question to see if he was comfortable with the idea or not.
“Then we definitely don’t need to.” Oh, he’s definitely comfortable. The way he just said it is enough.
He grabs his cock while you pull your panties aside without wasting any time, and you lower yourself onto him while balancing yourself with one arm on his shoulder.
“That impatient?” He taunts you, but he chokes on his words as soon as he feels your wetness. The head of his cock rests between your folds while you answer him:
“Are you not?” You sound relatively normal. Then you keep talking while taking him inch by inch. “Would you rather fuck your fist and fantasize about me?”
He wants to answer you. He wants to say something, but being balls deep inside you makes it harder to do so. He just lets out a low groan while grabbing your ass to ground himself.
You’re not so different from him. The way he stretches you pulls a pornographic moan out of you. You sit still for a second, trying to get used to this feeling. You can’t remember the last time you felt this full. It makes you shiver even without moving. You take your time and he just waits, patiently until you get used to the sensation. After a couple of seconds, you feel confident enough to move.
“Ready?”
“Yes.” There’s a bit of hesitation in his voice, but you don’t notice it because you are lost in the feeling of finally being so full. All of your senses are overwhelmed by it.
You aren’t sure if it’s going to hurt because he’s definitely the biggest you have ever had. So you move your hips slowly and test the waters. There’s something there. Some kind of discomfort. You can’t say you feel uncomfortable, you just need to get used to his size. So you keep moving because there’s this promise of pleasure hidden behind that discomfort. You can nearly taste it and it keeps you going. While trying to figure out the best way to move, you don’t realize Bucky is watching you, carefully. He’s trying to read your expression and see if you are okay. He’s ready to take up the reins or just stop if that’s what you need. His hands gently roam your body, discovering little details about your skin. Like how many moles you actually have.
“No rush. Take your time.” He sounds more like himself, much more confident than before.
You moan because of his words. His voice is deeper and it makes your blood rush. You start to move a little faster and notice how the discomfort slowly fades away. He notices that, too while grabbing your tits with both of his hands. One is colder than the other, and the contrast is dizzying. You lean into him, just to feel him a little bit more, and his grip on your tits tightens.
“God, so fucking pretty!”
Before you can say anything, his mouth is on your right nipple. You feel his tongue flicking over and over again while his other hand rests on the other breast. Then he sucks your nipple into his mouth, letting his teeth graze over it. You grunt because of the mixed sensations. Just when you are about to protest, he lets out your nipple and moves on to the other one. He gives it the same treatment. A mix of licking, sucking, and biting until you can’t contain your movements. Your hips start to move so much faster, making both of you moan loudly.
“God, I wanted to do this for ages!” The words spill out from your lips without much of a thought.
“You did?” He doesn’t miss a beat.
“Yeah.” There’s no point in hiding it anymore, is there?
“Does this mean I am the daddy?”
His question catches you off guard, and you just freeze in the middle of the action.
“You… heard me.” It comes out more like a question rather than a statement.
“Why do you think I was masturbating?”
It takes you a couple of seconds to process what he's just said. He actually heard you. You never used his name, but it doesn’t change the fact that he witnessed something so private. Something you really wanted to hide from him, yet the idea of him hearing you also sets you on fire. Instead of submitting to the urge to get all shy, you decide to ask him what you actually want to know.
“You heard me and instead of making a move, you decided to fuck your fist?”
“What was I supposed to do? Knock on your door and ask if I can replace your dildo?”
“Yeah. Sounds great to me.” You keep moving your hips fast while talking. “Or maybe you are too shy to take what you really want.”
“Shy?” He blinks a couple of times.
“You don’t seem shy but maybe you are. Maybe you are a submissive little boy who wants to just lay here and take whatever I give you.”
You watch his expression change into something so different. It’s not particularly dark, but it feels like it. Before you can say anything else, he just flips you over. Your mouth falls open when your back touches the bed. Instinctively, you try to wrap your legs around his torso, but he doesn’t let you. Instead, he pushes your knees back to your chest.
“What are you doing?” Your amazement is evident in your voice.
“Taking what I really want.” It takes a lot of effort to hide your smile. You can’t believe your taunting worked that quickly. “Tell me if it gets too much and I will stop.”
“Oh, I doubt that.”
He waits for you to finish talking and then he starts to move. Your mouth falls open once again but this time, it’s not because you are surprised. It’s because you can’t believe how good it feels. It’s completely different than how it felt when you were on his lap. He reaches deeper inside you in this position, and his hands are still on your legs, pushing you further into the bed. You let out another sinful moan.
“Way better than I imagined.”
“Is it?” A smile lingers on his lips. “Feel free to be as loud as you want.”
“Do you want us to get kicked out of this apartment?” It takes every ounce of strength in you to form this sentence without stuttering. It’s so hard to talk like you aren’t getting railed.
“No, I just wanna hear you call me daddy.”
You can’t help but moan. Shit, he really heard everything. You feel so exposed, but somehow it doesn’t bother you. Is he actually into this? Who could’ve guessed?
“If you want that, you gotta work harder than this.”
“Ask for it.”
“Harder, please.” He waits for daddy to come out of your mouth, but it doesn’t. You really meant what you just said, he needs to earn it.
So that’s exactly what he does. He starts to pound you, just the way you fantasized. He manages to touch every part inside you and fills up in a way that makes you wanna cry. Your moans get louder with each thrust.
“Oh fuck! Oh fuck!” Your ears start to buzz. You can feel that your orgasm is close.
“Talk to me, doll.”
He wants to hear you, and you don’t feel like holding back anymore.
“I’m-I’m so close, Bucky.”
“What do you need?” His question is instant. You feel that he’s ready to do whatever you want.
“Nothing. Absolutely nothing.” You take a deep breath just to be able to keep talking. “Just keep going. Please…” Your voice comes out so pathetic, but you can’t brush off the urge to beg him. He would like that, wouldn’t he? You did it while masturbating and he got a hard-on just because of you. “Please, please, please.”
Your words make him groan like he is struggling to contain his excitement.
“I really need it, daddy, please…”
“Fuck, baby.” You feel him losing control. His thrusts are sloppier but he notices that, too. His metal arm moves on your chest and rests there. You don’t know if he’s trying to keep you still or ground himself. Then he looks directly into your eyes, trying to see if that makes you uncomfortable or not. It definitely doesn’t. Quite the opposite, you need his hand on your neck, and you gently grab his metal hand and move it on your neck without breaking eye contact. You watch his eyes widen with the realization.
“Are you sure?” You nod in response, but it’s not good enough for him. “Words, baby. I need actual words.”
“Please.”
That does it. His fingers tighten around your neck, pressing right against your veins, careful not to crush your windpipe.
“Yess.” Your head is thrown back. This is exactly what you wanted.
The way he’s choking you snaps something inside you. It intensifies everything you are feeling at that moment. Your whole body suddenly starts to shake, and it surprises you. You have never reached an orgasm this quickly before.
“Yes, yes, yes. Oh god, yes!” Your voice comes out hoarser than usual.
“Look at you.” He taps his fingers on your neck while he keeps moving. “My pretty baby. So good for me.”
You only moan in response, already too lost in the waves of your orgasm. It’s running through your whole body like electricity.
“Look at me! Look into my eyes.” He sounds so commanding and you listen to him even though it’s so hard to do it. He looks like he’s about to lose it, too.
“Come with me. P-please.”
“You want me to come, baby?” He asks in a way that makes you wanna cry out even more. Like he won’t come if that’s what you want. He will keep holding back until you say so but you don’t want that. You want him to enjoy this as much as you do.
“Please, daddy. Come with me.” He groans in response. You clearly see how your words affect him, especially calling him daddy. You can’t believe how much he’s into it.
He stops holding back and starts to move in a way that makes you scream. So you do that. You can’t contain the noises you make when he moves like this. You grip on his sheets, letting him ruin you for any other man.
“Fuck! Such pretty sounds… You like it that much, baby?”
“Yes, yes. So good, daddy.” You slur at the last part. You don’t care. You don’t care about anything when he makes you feel like this.
“Fuck, you take me so well.” You can actually hear that he’s close. “I-I’m gonna come, oh fuck.”
“Yess!” You have been waiting for this. You want it so badly. You wanna see him come. You want him to feel good, all because of you. You want to witness a part of him that he hides away from everyone else. It feels like owning a part of him. So private and primitive, but you don’t care. You need this.
He lets out the most guttural moan right before starting to come inside you. He doesn’t stop, just keeps the same pace, emptying himself inside you.
“Take it, baby. Take it! It’s all yours.” You know what he’s talking about. His come is already dripping out, yet he’s not done coming.
It looks like he lost his damn mind, but it’s the hottest thing you have ever witnessed in your life. You are so fascinated by him even though you are still coming yourself. That's why you force yourself to keep your eyes open and watch him while your high slowly fades away. Yet he keeps going. His hands are gripping on your tights, pulling you into him every time he moves. His come is dripping on your ass, to the sheets. It’s so messy but feels out of this world.
After a couple more thrusts, he collapses on top of you. His head rests on the crook of your neck, and you feel his heavy breathing on your skin. You don’t mind it, though. He doesn’t let his whole weight crush you. Always so thoughtful….
Your hands go to his hair, gently stroking it. That makes him move his head and look at you.
“We should’ve done this before.” That makes you wanna laugh, but instead, you just give him a huge smile.
“Yes, we should have. It was amazing.”
Suddenly he moves away from you, leaving you completely empty. It makes you whine instantly. You miss the fullness and the warmth of his cock already.
“Where are you going?” You give him a confused look while raising yourself on the bed. “Come back here.”
“Not was.” He kneels right next to the bed, in between your legs, and moves his head closer to your dripping core. “I’m not done with you, baby.”
6K notes · View notes
dervampireprince · 9 months
Text
[dni minors, dni blogs that have no 18+ age listed in their bio] body worshipping astarion /// gender-neutral reader/tav
telling him that his pleasure gives you pleasure, that you enjoy making him feel good, that he doesn't ever have to do anything in return. and that's hard for him to believe, of course. but you can prove it.
you can have him laid back on the bed, stripped bare, as you kiss across his face, making him laugh if you kiss him on the tip of his nose,
"it is rather cute of you darling that you want to spoil me, but"
no buts. you tell him this is what he deserves. he deserves to be spoiled, to be held and treated as though he's something precious. because he is.
you're careful as you kiss down his neck, not knowing if the bite scar on his neck is too painful of a reminder, so you avoid it, sliding down his chest, thumbs pushing against his nipples, taking one in your mouth as he sighs, hardening against you,
"as nice as this is, there are rather more sensitive areas you could be attending too,"
you swat him gently on the thigh and tell him to be patient, though you know he isn't. that you're not trying to tease him, you're savouring him,
he'll get what he wants though, as you slink down and ask him to spread his legs, and when he slowly does you struggle to read his face, is he apprehensive? surely he can't be nervous...?
you kiss his inner thighs, daring to nibble, and when he gasps and moans you bite harder, leaving marks as you edge closer to his cock, already starting to leak, begging for attention, sliding you fingers down until they circle around the base, you look up at him as you take his cock into your mouth.
he's loud as you slide yourself up and down, he always is. he knows his voice is attractive, he knows it spurs you on, his noises, his praise,
"yes, darling, that's it, fuck, such a talented little mouth, so good for me,"
but this isn't about you, it's about him, and you want him rendered speechless, unable to use any honeyed words as he falls apart, and you'll be here holding onto him, making sure he doesn't fall too far, making sure he's put back together in the end.
he almost yelps, embarrassed at the undignified sound, as you slide your hands under his arse and pull him up, clawing at his skin, letting his cock hit the back of your throat, breathing through your nose as you gag, trying to look up at him, daring for him to see how much you'd do for him,
you pull your mouth off his cock to watch him squirm, his hips twitch, your blow cool air onto him and he whines, he whines and he seems embarrassed of it and he's beautiful,
you tell him that, and he knows, but there isn't the usual witty and vain retort, he whines again, panting, you tilt your head and smile and ask him if he wants to cum,
"of course i want to-"
he cuts himself of as you frown and start to pull your hands away. he knows what you want him to say.
"alright, i..." he catches his breath. "please."
please what?
he wants to scowl, but he wants your touch more, "please, i want to come, please."
he's back to moaning the second your mouth slides back down on his cock, whining again when you pull off, only to replace your mouth with your hand, sliding up and down his slick cock, as your mouth moves to his balls, fingers slipping against his arse, brushing between them accidentally, you think you aught to move them but the sound he makes, oh the sounds he makes,
barely thinking, just driven by the urge to have him come undone, you slip your hand under his leg and pull it up over your shoulder, gripping his thigh, mouth back on his cock as your other hand brushes against his hole again and you watch him shiver and claw at the bedding and you're emboldened and you rub your finger against his hole, never pressing inside, in time with how your head bobs up and down,
his words are gone now, he moans and gasps and you want him to let himself go, to thrust his hips up into your mouth, to relax into the bed, slide one of his hands onto your head if that's his urge, this is for him,
he tries to speak, "love, i-" and then he throws his head back, one of his hands flying to his face, you can't imagine him wanting to hide himself or his voice but then again has he ever let himself he this exposed before during sex?
you swallow around him as he comes, mouth still on him as he's oversensitive and twitching until you hear him sob,
and then you're letting his leg down gently off your shoulder, pulling yourself up to look at him, cupping his cheeks in your hands, him nodding to say he's alright, and then you're back to planting kisses over his face, telling him that he's safe, that he's beautiful, that you're honoured he trusts you with himself, stroking his hair as he comes down, falling onto your side and him clinging to you, his head against your chest as you kiss along his hair line,
"thank you," he breathes
of course
"you... well. i clearly underestimated you, again. i... i'm not sure i've ever come like that before. but before you sex was never much about my own pleasure. but that was... nice."
he coughs, composes himself,
"and well, if you ever wanted to do it again, or let me return the favour, though yes before you interrupt i understand you are trying to teach me that i don't have to repay you for anything with sex, but then i would also remind that i genuinely like having sex with you, having you at my mercy, moaning for me..."
you huff,
"yes. right. that is to say, i could be persuaded to let you have your wicked way with me again. it wasn't... unpleasant. i might have feared it could be, that being at someone else's mercy could bring about... memories or feelings. but it didn't. because it's with you. you make me feel... safe. i want to cherish that."
you kiss him again. and again. until you tell him you're not supposed to be waking yourselves up, and he pouts, but relents,
you'll clean yourselves up in a moment, for now, you enjoy him allowing himself to rest in your arms
3K notes · View notes
bbyquokka · 2 months
Text
slow
– in which it's yn's & jisung's first time together. jisung gets a little too in to it!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing | han jisung x fem reader
genre | friends to lovers, fluff, smut – 18+ is strongly advised!
cw | established relationship , small mention of anxiety , jisung & reader are not inexperienced, its their first time being intimate together , masturbation (m) , dirty thoughts , orgasm denial , pet names , love bites , biting , grinding , jisung is rough at the start , safe word used , breast & nipple play , oral sex (m & f rec) , protected sex (p in v) , aftercare
words | 7.6k ~ ( 7,630 )
notes | it's been a while.. i still dont feel 100% on this site rn but i wanted to post a lil something! also, this was requested a hella long time ago! don’t forget to leave feedback, reblog and tell me what you think here. curious as to what is next? here is my wips list! i hope you all enjoy! ‹3
m.list — you can also read it on my ao3
dont repost. dont translate. minors, ageless & default blogs; dni! feedback and reblogs are highly advised and appreciated!
you never thought you could ever be so in love with a human being, yet here you are, smitten by none other than han jisung.
you’ve read and watched about love, soulmates, marriage, sex, all that type of stuff in movies and books. you never believed in the soulmate's thing or the ‘red string of fate’. you simply thought it was a gimmick to hook the audience into whatever media consumption they were consuming.
but alas, here you are. as you look at your lover and soak in every single precious detail of him, you slowly understand the meaning of soulmate's. your heart thumps every time you hear him speak, stomach fluttering every time you watch him fill his cheeks up with food like a squirrel.
you met jisung by chance. you both were attending a beginners painting course at your local community center. it was a chance for you to step out of your comfort zone and meet new people, possibly make new friends too.
you were nervous to begin with and possibly overwhelmed too. new faces, sounds and smells. you were overstimulated and the raging feeling of anxiety activated your fight-or-flight mode.
luckily for you, jisung noticed and instantly calmed you down. he spoke to you in a gentle and soft manner. he made corny jokes to help relax you and ease your mind. you only just met him and yet, you felt instantly connected to him – like you've known him your whole life.
he mentioned that the teacher, who's name you learnt was hyunjin, was a very good friend of his and that you didn't have anything to worry about. you explained that you're a terrible artist and know nothing at all to which jisung replied “me too! let's be terrible together, yeah?” 
that day was the most fun you've had in a long time. the anxiety you felt disappeared as soon as jisung approached you. you both created god awful paintings but they left you in tears of laughter and by the end of the session, you were sure you developed a six pack due to how sore your stomach muscles were hurting from laughing too much.
you could say that you both acted like two high schoolers goofing around in class. hyunjin did tell you and jisung off but he was just happy that his friend was able to find someone just like him.
you and jisung exchanged contact details. calling and texting each other 24/7. it started off small and sweet, telling each other about your day, telling one another to eat well and stay hydrated. sending pictures of things you both think the other would like.
you didn't realise or consider that your feelings for jisung were slowly becoming a lot more than ‘just friends.’ you couldn't explain it at the time. you couldn't understand why you felt so giddy every time you saw his name pop up on your phone screen. you didn't understand why you wanted to scream and shout every time he sent you a comfy selfie. you didn't understand why your heart raced and why you felt the urge to spend every single second of every hour with him and when he wasn't calling or texting you, that you felt sad and empty.
you simply put it down to the fact that you've never had a close friend before, especially of the opposite sex. you mistook your feelings for love as that of excitement and joy.
however, it wasn't until you saw a picture of him with someone else on a night out, did you finally understand.
the jealousy you felt that night turned you bitter and cold. it turned you into something that you didn't recognise within yourself. you did act a little distant towards him the next day and poor jisung didn't have a clue as to why.
one thing about jisung that you've learnt since knowing him, is that he is very good at getting you to talk about things you don't want to.
“do you think the reason you feel like this could be related to something much more? something you haven't quite figured out yet.”
as soon as jisung sent those messages to you, did you reflect and come to terms that you have fallen in love with your best friend. once that was evident, you had a whole new problem.
what if jisung doesn't feel the same as you? what if it affects the friendship between you both?
with so many questions rushing in your mind, you unintentionally ghosted jisung and he noticed.
he noticed the dry messages. the one liners. he noticed that you didn't seem all too interested anymore. yeah, it filled him up with anxiety because he wondered if he'd done anything or said anything to upset you.
instead of letting his mind run away with negative thoughts, he made the bold decision to go to your apartment and talk it out.
it was a day you'd never forget. it was a day that started off angsty and slowly turned into something magical.
you talked with each other and you confessed through your tears. you sobbed and sobbed, worry shaking your entire existence. jisung hugged you tight, his scent calmed your nerves. once calm, did he too also confess and that was the beginning of something you both cherish to this day.
you both agreed to start of slow. neither of you are inexperienced however, going from being ‘just friends’ to boyfriend girlfriend is a whole new feeling.
you're seeing each other in a new light, learning new things about one another. everything is so different, everything feels different. it feels like your relationship with jisung is starting all over again. what you thought you knew about him, turns out to be completely different.
you went on many dates and outings. you held hands multiple times and cuddled a lot. you both even exchanged sweet pecks on the cheeks before kissing each other. however, you both never did anything intimate with one another.
not because you weren't ready or inexperienced, it's a simple matter of the timing doesn't feel right. you (and jisung) both want to be with each other more, spend more time with one another and learn about each other before taking that massive (and vulnerable) step in the relationship.
not one of you pestered or pressured the other about it. it's as if you both silently just knew. at first you were a little anxious about not having sex with him right away and jisung felt the same, however, as time went on and you both started to find comfort in each other as well as understand one another via social/physical cues, did the anxieties slowly disappear.
that's not to say that you don't feel some kind of lust for him. jisung is exactly the same, thinking and feeling like you. some days he wishes he could just ravish you. when you look that extra gorgeous or do something cute that makes his heart skip, he wishes he could just drag you back to his place and indulge in you.
there have been many times that he's masturbated over you. date nights he would find himself going home, straight to his bedroom and his fist around his throbbing cock. his mind plagued with dirty thoughts of you, imagining you in your date attire.
some nights he wants to ruin you. his hand funnelling for his phone as his other is wrapped around his cock and squeezing tightly to deny himself of his orgasm. it hurts and the longer he waits, the more it hurts him but it makes his toes curl and body shakes with excitement.
he doesn't know how long he can go on like this. he knows patience is a virtue but just everything about you is driving him insane. the more time goes on, the more he becomes impatient. the more it builds and builds until it feels like he is suffocating with an intense amount of lust.
luckily for him, he won't have to wait that long.
“thank you for tonight, sungie.” you smile as you stand on the doorstep of your home. jisung hums softly, his hands in his suit pants pockets.
“my pleasure. i hope you enjoyed the meal.”
“i enjoy your company more than anything.” you feel your cheeks heat up slowly. the tips of jisung's ears slowly turn red at your cute confession.
“i – ahm – i shall bid you goodnight then, darling.” as he turns on his heels, he is abruptly stopped by you grabbing his wrist. he looks up at you, a look of confusion on his face, his brows furrowed together.
“what’s the mat–”
“stay the night.” you blurt out in one sentence. 
his heart stops beating for a second. your cheeks pink as the grip on his wrist is tight. heat rushes down south and his mouth becomes dry. 
“darling, what are you trying to say? do you know what will happen if i stay the night?” he takes your hand gently from his wrist, intertwining his fingers with yours as he walks close to you. 
you become fixated on him and your senses become heightened. your throat becomes dry as jisung holds your hand whilst his other wraps around your waist, pulling you flush against his body.
you become hyper aware of the situation; of him! you swallow thickly, jisung's plump lips curled up at the corners in a smirk as they glisten from his saliva. 
“you are aware, correct?” he whispers. his voice is husk and his breath fans against your lips. you nod slowly, unable to speak. you worry that jisung would be able to hear your racing heartbeat. his cologne tickling your nostrils and intoxicating you. 
you've never been this close to him before. you can see every single detail of his skin up close and personal. his grip on your waist tightens ever so slightly as he shakily lets out a slow breath.
he brings the back of your hand to his lips, pressing them against your skin as he peers up at you through his lashes. you feel warmth flooding your body, butterflies fluttering in your stomach.
“god you're so beautiful.” he mumbles before kissing each of your fingers individually. “do you want to, darling?”
“i–” you stumble over your words.
“tell me. let me hear your pretty voice.” his hand escapes your waist to be pressed against your flush cheek. you instantly lean into his palm, feeling yourself be swayed by his charms.
“i-i want you, ji.” you whisper as your eyes flutter close. with a small huff, you feel jisung leaning closer to you and within a second, his soft lips are against yours in a slow and rhythmic kiss.
it's different. it feels different. it's not a simple peck or a good night kiss. it's a kiss that is filled with built up fiery passion. jisung has finally been given the go ahead and he can feel it all overflowing and seeping out.
he grips your hand, eyes fluttering closed as his brows scrunch together. you tilt your head to the side a little, lips locking and caressing one another. he presses his body against yours, your back hitting your door which causes jisung to snake his arms around your back and hold you firmly in his arms.
your own arms wrap around his neck, keeping him close to you as possible. the way jisung is kissing you is making you feel lightheaded and deprived of oxygen – but you don't want to escape from his grasp.
the cold night air fans against your hot cheeks, failing to bring down your body temperature. you feel the tip of his tongue glide along your bottom lip, silently pleading for permission. you grant it by parting your lips and letting your own tongue caress with his.
your body fills with tingles of excitement, your abdomen fluttering. jisung's suit pants are starting to feel a little tight. he can feel himself slowly melt into you, his mind turning foggy. he's waited all this time to taste you and now he finally has you, he doesn't want to escape and let you go.
“taste so sweet.” he mumbles for a split second to allow some air to resume into his lungs. you don't have a chance to reply because his lips are instantly back on yours, tongue caressing and colliding with yours. melting at the touch.
your heart thumps against your chest so loudly, you can hear it in your ears. your body trembles with excitement but also another feeling that you can't quite put your finger on.
you hear jisung fumbling behind you, his hand coming into contact with the cold door handle. with his lips still locked onto you, he opens the door and slowly pushes you inside. once inside, he kicks the door closed with his foot as you both stumble whilst taking off your shoes.
you're the first to pull away from his lips much to his dismay. you look at the man that stands before you and notice that he looks and feels different. he no longer feels soft and gentle. his eyes are hazy but darkened with hunger and lust. his cheeks are pink and lips swollen and glistening with saliva. you see his chest rising up and down with every breath and his neat hair now dishevelled.
“where?” his words dripped with a hint of impatience. you swallow a little and chew your lip gently.
“we can go to my room?” you press your lips together in a thin line. you're suddenly aware that jisung is in your home, in your space and it's making you nervous as hell! jisung notices you trembling a little so he places one hand on your shoulder whilst the other is used to lift your chin up gently so you're looking at him.
“are you sure?” his voice is now soft and gentle, the same softness you've grown accustomed too. “we don't ha–”
“i want to!” you blurt out causing jisung to widen his eyes slightly before chuckling to himself. “just give me a few seconds. i need to go to the restroom.”
he gives you a gentle smile and nods. as you go to the restroom, you tell jisung the directions to your bedroom in case he wants to sit and wait and whilst he does, he takes his time looking around your place.
he makes a mental note how it's just like you. how every piece of decoration resembles you in one way or another. he walks to your bedroom, cautiously sitting on your bed as he waits for you.
as he waits, he suddenly becomes hyper aware of where he is. he can smell you. the same lavender scent that emits from your clothing is now tickling his nostrils. his lips part as he lets out small, shaky puffs of air.
“fuck.. this is bad.” he mumbles as he unbuttons the first few buttons of his dress shirt. his body temperature skyrocketing, skin glistening in sweat as your scent continues to hug him deliciously.
meanwhile, you're in the restroom giving yourself a pep-talk. the coolness of the ceramic sink feels soothing against your hot palms.
you're nervous. you've never been this nervous before. it feels like you could throw up. you want to run and hide but the desire you have for him is too strong. you want him and he wants you, it's just because it's all new that you feel like this.
however, you can't shake that hungry look from jisung's eyes away from your mind. he looked like an animal, ready to pounce on you at any second. 
you take a few deep breaths in and slowly release before fixing your hair. “you got this yn.” you mumble to your reflection before walking out of the restroom into the bedroom.
jisung looks up at you and gives you a grin. his legs are spread, hair pushed back with the buttons of his dress shirt still open, giving you a glimpse of his honey smooth skin you've been dying to caress.
he pats his inner thigh, silently beckoning you forward. like a puppet on a string, you feel yourself being pulled towards him. you stand between his legs, his hands on your waist gently as he strokes it with his thumb.
you glance at him, soaking in how beautiful and flush he looks. he tilts his head to the side, his bangs covering his eyes and his lips curl into a smirk as he sees your eyes flicker from his face to his crotch.
“like what you see?” 
your eyes widen and you feel heat rush to your cheeks. your brain melts and your ability to speak fails. words lodged in your throat and all you can muster is broken sentences.
jisung laughs at your flustered state, pulling you onto his lap. he pulls you flush on his crotch, chest to chest. his arms wrapping around your back and holding you close and he nuzzles into the crook of your neck.
the tips of his hair tickle your cheeks. hot, shaky breaths fanning against your skin as you feel your clothing being bundled up into jisung's hands.
“fuck, i’m in trouble. you’re too cute.” you giggle, your fingers caressing his soft hair. the tips of your fingers rake against his scalp and jisung closes his eyes slowly. his lips brush against the skin of your neck before being pressed against it. 
he starts off slow and gentle at first, peppering and sucking gently. but that soon fades.
you feel his teeth graze against your skin and your breath hitches in your throat. you bite your bottom lip gently before whimpering a little as his teeth dig into your neck. you squeeze your eyes shut, enduring the stinging sensation as you hold your breath. 
his kissing and sucking quickly becomes rough and painful. you grip onto jisung as his hands trail down your back to hold your waist. he grips onto you, moving your hips back and forth on his crotch.
when he pulls away from your neck, do you realise exactly what is happening and why you feel so anxious.
this isn't your first time but with how rough jisung is being is making you feel scared. the kind, gentle man you're so accustomed to is nowhere to be seen. his eyes are darkened, half-lidded. kiss bitten and swollen lips glistening in saliva.
his jaw clenches as he grips onto you forcefully. his mind has fogged over and he is purely chasing his own high. his body is being driven by the intense lust and hunger that had been building for months.
he's a different person and it's scaring you.
“h-hey. why don't we take i–” your attempt at trying to calm him down and bring him back to you cut short due to jisung throwing you onto the bed.
your back is hit with the bouncy mattress, the springs squeaking from impact. you watch jisung kneel between your legs, hands fumbling with the rest of the buttons of his shirt before it's quickly discarded to the side leaving him in nothing but his dress pants.
you wish you could enjoy the beautiful sight before you but you simply can't. you've seen jisung's body numerous times via gym or thirst selfies, seeing it in the flesh and glistening in a thin layer of sweat is a different experience and you so wish you could enjoy it.
“ji–” your eyes widen as he leans down and kisses you. it's not the same as before, it's rough. all teeth and tongues with no coordination. you start to panic, palms becoming sweaty and your heart beating against your chest.
this isn't how you imagined your first time to be with jisung. this isn’t what you wanted. you want your passionate, gentle and loving jisung back.
“v-volcano!” you sob. as if a switch has suddenly been switched inside of him, he is fast to get off you. his eyes widen in pure shock at the sight before him. you chew your bottom lip gently, unable to stop a few tears from trickling down your cheeks.
“oh my god. oh no. yn, oh fuck. i’m so sorry!” he reaches down shakily and presses his palm against your cheek. you lean in as you sniffle.
“it’s ok.” you whisper.
“no!” his sudden loud tone of voice makes you jump a little. “it’s not ok. i lost myself in the moment and i made you cry. fuck, i’m an idiot..”
“hey, it's ok.”
“it's not ok yn. i didn't mean to scare you. i've been wanting you for so long that when i finally got you, i lost sight of everything and in the process hurt and scared you.” his voice cracking and shaking. his brown, boba eyes filling with tears.
you sit up and kiss his cheek gently. your lips are met with the salty flavour of his tears. he wraps his arms around you tightly, pulling you into his chest as he sobs.
“i’m sorry. i’m so fucking sorry. this wasn't how i planned this. fuck i’m so stupid!” he babbles. you hush him softly, stroking his hair slowly. you make a mental note of how he currently reminds you of a lost child, babbling and crying till their red in the face and snotty.
“i’m ok jisung. it did scare me. i saw a side to you that i’ve never seen before and it frightened me but you stopped when i used the safe word and that counts for something.”
“really?” he mumbles against your neck which is currently wet with tears.
“really. it'd be different if you carried on but you didn't. don't beat yourself up about this. this is our first time together.” you pull away slowly, cupping his cheeks. “we’re still learning about one another, darling. intimacy is a big big step in a relationship. it's probably one where we're at our most vulnerable.”
jisung simply nods and looks down, chin into chest as his lips turn into a pout. a few stray tears falling down his cheeks as he sniffles.
he really is like a child you say to yourself mentally before giggling.
“i'm sorry.” he whispers before looking up at you. “can we start all over again?”
you smile softly at him and nod. he leans on, tilting his head to the side and eyes slowly closing as your lips meet again. he is slow, tender and so gentle with you. it sparks butterflies in your stomach and for you to melt and relax into him.
he gently pushes you down so you're resting on your back, the kiss not being broken once. you wrap your arms around his neck and hold him close to you. his fingers dance along your jawline and down your neck, trailing down to your breasts when he gently cups them through the fabric of your clothing.
your breath hitches a little in your throat. he gently massages your breast, kneading it in the palm of his hand. you gasp a little and groan, your legs parting a little bit more to allow more space for jisung to situate himself in.
his hand slowly trails up your stomach from under your clothing. his soft fingers dance along your skin like delicate pixie feet. it leaves a trail of heat and butterflies behind making you longing for more.
jisung licks your lips slowly and is pleased to feel them slowly part. the two wet muscles meet in the middle when they collide, hug and caress. his delicate fingers reach to your breast where he presses his palm on the flesh and wraps his fingers around it gently.
he squeezes your breast a few times, kneading and rolling it slowly. he swallows every gasp and soft moan that falls past your lips.
“god.” he mumbles as he pulls away to bury his face into the crook of your neck. “you sound so beautiful.” 
“i do?” 
“mhm.” jisung's fingers brush over your hardened nipple, causing you to moan softly in shock at the sudden sensation and sensitivity. “see? i might become addicted.”
you flush at his words, your stomach fluttering and heartbeat skipping beats. you worry with how close jisung is to you, that he'd be able to hear and feel how erratic your heart is.
he presses his lips against your neck, kissing it tenderly and giving gentle sucks. his fingers work on your breast whilst you're unsure on what to do with your own. jisung notices this.
“it’s ok. you can touch me.” he chuckles against your neck. you flush red with embarrassment.
“i-i know! i just don't know where..”
“you can caress me. hold me. tangle your fingers in my hair. whatever feels natural, yn.” he pulls away from your neck to kneel up. his hand is off your breast as he takes your hand gently by the wrist. he brings your hand to his lips, eyes on you as he kisses your fingers delicately. “i won't break.”
you watch him kiss your fingers before kissing the back of your hand. then, he takes your wrist gently, guiding it to his cheek. he presses your palm against his flush skin as he leans in, his own hand pressed against the back of yours to keep your hand there.
“it’s ok to touch me, yn. touch me as much as you like. i've been dying for your touch so please, indulge in me. be greedy.” he whispers. 
you can't help the onslaught of butterflies fluttering in your stomach. it feels like they're travelling throughout your whole body, hugging your veins, nerves and tips of your fingers and toes. your breathing becomes shallow and jisung becomes the only thing you see.
everything turns blurry and time passes by slowly as you look at the man that is smitten for you. this love you feel from him, the love that's radiating and seeping from his pores is more than you thought.
it's suffocating but it's good. you want to drown in his love, drown in his warmth. you want to be entangled with him and have him be the only person you think and feel. 
you've noticed it for a while. noticed how hot he makes you feel. how his touch makes your skin burn. how his kisses linger on your skin. your lips automatically turned up in a smile whenever you see his name pop up on your screen. you're always thinking of him and you miss him when he isn't with you. you want to lock him up and never share him with anyone else because you'll get jealous. you want him by your side for eternity.
he is your life, your soul. your present and your future.
“i love you.” 
jisung looks at you, his eyes slowly widening. you haven't registered what you've just said, feeling like you're in a haze.
“say that again.” 
“huh?” you blink, coming back to reality.
“do you mean it? like, truly?” 
“mean what?”
“you said… you said you love me.” your eyes widen as you open and close your mouth like a goldfish, words stuck in your throat.
“i… i…uhm..”
“because–” he cups your cheeks gently. his eyes sparkling and wet as they fill with tears. “because i love you too. so fucking much.” 
your own eyes fill with tears as you watch tears trickle down jisung's cheeks. you laugh softly, stroking them away with your thumb.
“yes. i mean it, ji. i love you.”
“fuck.” he sobs before kissing you sweetly. you laugh in the kiss before kissing his tears away.
“yn.” he mumbles. you hum as a response. “i’m really fuckin' hard.. it hurts..” you press your lips together and glance down.
true to his word you can see a bulge in his suit pants. the fabric hugs him nicely, giving you a brief idea of his size and girth. he looks thick and long.
“please yn.. please do something. i can't bear it no more.” his voice is husk and dripping with lust. it tickles your ears and makes you shake with adrenaline.
you reach down and unbutton his pants, pulling the zip down. it gives him a small sense of relief but it's not enough. he lets out a small sigh before raising up a little on his knees to allow you to pull his pants down.
you do so with shaky hands, pulling them down to his thighs. jisung watches you stare at his crotch, watching you soak in all the information you have right in front of you.
his grey boxer shorts hugging his lower half tightly, the material stretching a little due to his bulge. it hugs him, feeling too snug to be comfortable. a wet patch where his tip is resting turning the fabric a darker grey.
“baby.. you're embarrassing me.” you look up to see jisung looking to the side, his bottom lip being chewed and his cheeks pink.
“sorry! it's just..” you trail off. jisung laughs softly and cups your cheeks.
“it’s ok. i understand.” he kisses your forehead gently. his muscles twitch and jerk as he feels your fingers come into contact with his sides.
you hook your fingers under the waistband of his shorts and slowly pull them down. you both hold your breath, time feeling like it's slowed down. you reveal his happy trail, his neatly trimmed hair until finally, his penis bounces free from its restraints.
jisung sighs heavily in relief, his eyes closing. you, on the other hand, stare at him with your mouth wide open. your hands have now bundled up the fabric of his shorts as you swallow and lick your lips.
you knew he was packing, that was evident in the way you could see it in jeans, pants and even his underwear – but you didn't think he'd be this big.
“holy. you're big.” you say without giving it a second thought. jisung stutters and covers his face with his hands, peering at you through the gap of his fingers.
“not sure if that's a compliment or not but, thank you.” 
“it's a compliment.” you whisper before leaning down.
his hips buck and muscles twitch. you haven't done anything but your breath fanning against his hot skin makes him throb and anticipate. you lick your lips and use the tip of your tongue to lick his tip.
“f-fuck.” he instantly moans. your actions are miniscule but it feels so much more than what it is. maybe it's because he's wanted this for so long or maybe it's because you both confessed and said i love you that makes it feel the way it does.
you press your tongue flat against his tip. your taste buds are met with a salty flavour from his pre-cum. you wrap one hand around the base of his penis as you slowly start to become more confident. you stroke him slowly, rotating your wrist a few times as you wrap your lips around his tip.
he feels hot – so so hot. jisung feels like his skin is burning. he feels like he is drowning in molten lava. he pants as he watches you, his eyes half-lidded and his teeth chewing on his bottom lip.
“hot.” he pants. he reaches down to bury his fingers in your hair. “ahh, fuck..” his head tilts to the side as you bob your head in time with your hand, giving his penis equal stimulation from both your hand and mouth.
you flatten your tongue to stoke the underside of him. you can feel the bumps from his veins against your palm. you hollow out your cheeks and breath through your nose the best you can. the corners of your mouth start to stretch and sting due to them splitting slightly. your mouth becomes accumulated with saliva which makes it easier for you to take more of him.
“a-ah.. fuck, yes. that's it. god, your mouth is so warm and feels so good.”
his praises and soft moans hug your ears. the deep octa waves of his voice send shivers down your spine and encourage you to be more brave. your eyes flutter shut as you focus all your attention on pleasuring jisung. 
he slowly unravels right before you. a thin sheen of sweat soaking his body as his penis throbs and twitches. he gently tugs on your hair, his hips bucking several times. soft whimpers and moans leave his swollen and parted lips as he slowly becomes dizzy with heat and lust.
jisung reaches down and gently pushes you away from him. you look up at him with a confused expression, eyebrows furrowed together. he strokes your saliva coated lips with his thumb before speaking.
“you're going to make me cum and i don't want to cum just get.” 
you laugh softly but it's quick to become muffled and swallowed by jisung kissing your lips slowly and passionately. you only pull away from a brief second to allow him to undress you.
once stripped of your clothing, you're left in your underwear. just like you did, jisung is currently staring at your body. his mouth agape and eyes filling with love and admiration as he soaks in every single detail of your body.
you become aware of his eyes and feel somewhat violated by his piercing gaze. you cross your arms across your breasts and stomach, feeling embarrassed and vulnerable.
“hey, don't do that.” he whispers softly to you as he gently pries away your arms.
“but it's embarrassing.” you mumble.
“but you're so gorgeous, yn.” you remain silent. you don't know how to respond. he's always showered you with compliments and love, forever telling you how beautiful and pretty you are but it feels different this time and it's making you feel embarrassed and shy.
your thoughts are disrupted by the feeling of jisung kissing your stomach. you watch him, tangling your fingers in his hair. he reaches up and hooks a finger underneath your bra strap as if he's silently asking.
you nod slowly. he grins, showing his teeth and gums. he takes off your bra and discards it with the rest of the clothing. his head dips low and you close your eyes, whimpering as you feel his lips peppering kissing on your breasts.
“so pretty.” he mumbles between each kiss. your hard nipple is caught between his teeth, lips sucking and tongue licking the sensitive nub.
you chew your bottom lip to suppress the moans that are building in the back of your throat. you tremble a little and let out a small pant. jisung notices and releases your nipple to kiss your neck softly and slowly.
“don't hold back your voice. let me hear your pretty moans.”
tingles are being left behind from where jisung has kissed your skin. heat pools in the pit of your stomach and much to jisung's delight, you let go of the moan that had been building in the back of your throat.
“see. told you your moans sound pretty.” his hot breath fanning against your hard nipple before his tongue swipes over it slowly. it gets covered in saliva and slowly becomes sore and sensitive.
the tips of your fingers and toes feel tingly. you feel restless and needy. you want him to hurry up and touch you but at the same time, you want to indulge and embrace the sweet yet tender moment.
he moves from your breast and kisses between them, kissing, sucking and licking your stomach whilst his hair tickles your skin. he stops just above the waistband of your underwear, eyes flicking up to meet your hungry gaze.
you nod and give him the go ahead. he licks his lips and slowly pulls down your underwear, discarding them on the floor. you swallow, feeling nervous and embarrassed now that you're on full display for jisung to see.
he shuffles between your legs, kissing your inner thigh slowly as well as sucking it. he squeezes your soft flesh as he looks at you and keeps eye contact with you. you bite your bottom lip, loving this new side to him. your once innocent looking skin now tainted with purple love bites and goosebumps.
using the tip of his middle finger, he trails it up and down your inner thigh slowly. he looks at your pussy, humming softly as the sight of your soaked folds and swollen clit.
“all this for me?” he whispers as he drags his middle finger to your entrance and gently scoops some of your slick onto it. you nod slowly, unable to speak with how embarrassed you feel. “cute.” he mumbles before licking his finger clean.
he leans down and in, pressing his tongue flat against your neglected bud. your muscles twitch and you gasp as electric like tingles shoot up and down your spine. jisung hums at your reaction, swiping his tongue along your clit.
“j-jisun.. aah!” your eyes flutter close as you press your head onto the pillows. the tip of jisung's tongue is now swirling around your bud, fingers teasing your entrance slowly. he gently sucks on your clit before kitten licking it and moaning softly.
he hooks his arms under your legs, pulling you flush against his face. his tongue slips down to your entrance where he laps at your slick, moaning at the taste and rutting against the mattress. he huffs occasionally, hot breathes fanning against your entrance.
“so good.” he mumbles. you go to reply but a moan replaces your words due to jisung slowly pushing his tongue into your entrance. your warmth encapsulates his tongue, fingers digging into the skin of your thighs. he pushes and pulls his tongue in and out whilst his nimble fingers work on stimulating your clit.
“mhm, fuck. ji don't stop, please.” you moan as you reach down and grab his hair on your hands. you gently tug as your back arches a little. jisung feels your walls flutter on his tongue, your muscles twitching with the stimulation.
your folds get coated in slick and saliva along with jisung's lips and chin. he pulls away for a brief second to catch his breath before resuming back to the task at hand. jisung is thrusting into the mattress, the roughness of the sheets rubbing against his length that's being pressed against his stomach and coating it in his pre-cum.
you feel that all too familiar heat and knot in the pit of your stomach. you gasp and moan, tugging at his hair by the roots. your eyes flutter open and you look up at him as he pulls away, your lips forming a pout.
“i want to carry on, believe me baby but–” he kneels up and between your legs. he looks down and bites his lip. you follow his gaze and press your lips together in a thin line from how hard he is. “it’s painful. i need to be inside of you.”
“o-oh.” you blush. “then, hurry up because i want you.” 
“do you have any protection?” you nod and point to the side drawer by your bed. jisung reaches over you and you take this opportunity to lean up and kiss his neck. jisung grunts and shivers, his lips parting slightly as you gently bite and lick his skin.
“baby.. you're not helping.” 
“shh, just focus on getting a condom.” you purr. jisung's hands fumble around, struggling to open the drawer. when he does, he is met several packs of condoms, lube and some toys.
“i see you're fully stocked up.” he says with a smirk, grabbing a condom and closing the drawer. you feel heat rising to your cheeks.
“there for a friend.” you mumble, averting his gaze. jisung laughs as he opens the condom.
“riiiight, a friend.” 
“shut up.” you whine. “it's better to be prepared.”
“oh i know. that's what i love about you, baby.” you watch him roll the rubber on his length and hold your waist, pulling you closer to him. “ready?”
“i’m ready.”
jisung nods and holds the base of his penis. he guides it to your entrance, rubbing his tip against it and between your folds before slowly pushing in. you both hiss for different reasons.
for him, the warmth and tightness is delicious. you feel so comfy and hot that the heat is spreading throughout his entire body and replacing the blood in his veins with molten lava. he feels his cheeks becoming hot, his palms sweaty and brain feeling like it's melting.
for you, the pain from the stretch burns. you know it'll subside once you get used to him but his thickness is currently the issue. he is being careful and content, going ever so slow for you. he has a little under half his length in and you already feel full.
“it’s not all of it but you're still so tight so we shall go from here.” jisung manages to say through his laboured breaths. he gives you a few minutes to adjust, his hands gripping onto you as he painfully waits.
you give him a nod that tells him it's ok. he starts of slowly, the burn still there but pleasure is soon quick to override it. you reach down and hold onto his wrists as he slowly picks up the tempo. 
his head tilts to the side and his lips part slightly. soft moans and grunts leave his lips. you hold onto him, your body rocking with each thrust of his hips.
“aah fuck. you feel even better than i imagined.” he pants.
“y-you too. please go a little faster and harder.” jisung nods and starts to thrust harder and faster. your back arches as pleasure hugs your body tightly, making you feel like you're suffocating. moans being lodged in your throat.
jisung leans over you, resting on his forearms that are beside your head. the new position allows him to push a little bit of his length deeper inside you but his hips slow down. his movements are long, slow and sensual. 
the ridges of his cock rub your gummy walls, reaching places that have never been touched before. jisung leans down, burying his head into the crook of your neck as you wrap your arms around his neck.
“this feels too good.” his voice is hoarse and low due to his throat being dry from panting. his hair sticks to his skin, the tips coated in sweat as his body glistens.
“it does. you're so deep, ji. please don't stop.” you whisper in his ear, moaning a few times.
“fuck.. you sound so fucking pretty moaning my name. is it even possible to become even more addicted to you?” he kisses your neck slowly and gently. 
your gummy walls tighten around him. both of you reaching your peaks. denying yourselves from previous orgasms meant that it's been building and building up to this point.
“i can't..” you stutter, nail digging into his back.
“me too.. i think i’m at my limit.” you whimper and nod as a response. a few more thrusts and you both orgasm together. your walls flutter around him whilst he twitches and empties into the condom.
you both pant heavily, exhaustion settling in. jisung's arms shake a little, threatening to give up and collapse on top of you. using the remaining strength he has, he pushes himself up and pulls out slowly, taking off the condom, tying and discarding it.
you spread out on the bed, eyes slowly closing. jisung laughs and kisses your forehead gently. he rushes to the bathroom, running a warm bubble bath for you both.
he gently scoops you up in his arms, placing you in the tub before settling behind you. after washing yourselves, you both take a few minutes to relax. you lean into his chest, listening and feeling his steady heartbeat.
“i’m sorry about before..” he mumbles as he strokes your hair slowly. “i became too excited and lost myself in the moment.”
“it’s ok. all's forgiven.” you grin, looking up at him. your grin falters as you look at him. his head dipped low, chin tucked into his chest. his boba eyes glistening as he chews his bottom lip. “hey, it's ok.” 
you spin around to face him in the tub, kneeling uncomfortable in the small tub. you cup his damp cheeks gently, water droplets falling from the tips of his hair. he looks at you and pouts softly.
“but i sca–” you press your lips against his to silence him. his eyes widen a little but he is quick to kiss back.
“i said it's ok. you stopped and you snapped out of it pretty quickly. don't beat yourself up about it, baby. besides–” you push his hair back gently “i enjoyed my first time with you.”
“me too.” his cheeks flush pink, whether from him feeling shy or the humidity of the bathroom. “i’d love to do it with you again.”
“the feelings mutual.” you giggle before kissing his forehead. “now c’mon, let's get to bed. it's been a long night and i’m exhausted.”
jisung agrees and gets out of the tub with you. you both dry yourselves off and get ready for bed. jisung suddenly scoops you up in his arms which causes you to squeal and laugh. he walks to the bed, gently placing you down.
you snuggle into the duvet, watching jisung get in beside you. he faces you, holding your hand gently.
“i love you, yn. i love you so much.” he plays with your fingers as he whispers those sweet and delicate words to you. your heart flutters and skips beats, time freezing for nth time.
“i love you too, ji. forever and always.” 
1K notes · View notes
edens-pen · 2 years
Text
romans 3:23
summary | nanami kento can't bring himself to pull back because he was fucked from the moment you walked into the church. your little white dress was the noose around his priesthood.
pairing | priest!nanami kento x fem!reader
word count | 3,206
warnings | oh god — blasphemy, sacrilege, sex in a church, oral (f!receiving), pussyjob, masturbation, corruption kink, virgin kink, unprotected sex, cervix fucking, god kink, worship kink, praise, degradation, creampie, slight breeding kink, just the tip, squirting, dub con (ish), minorly ooc kento :(
a/n | this was not beta'd + i have church in the morning. dabbling in some kinktober!! something light for y'all to enjoy <3
[ 18 + | minors, blank, ageless blogs, do not interact! ]
nanami kento was a man of the cloth.
of course, the operative word being "was."
he was a man of the cloth until you waltzed into the church with your family. a fresh college graduate, staying with her parents to save money, teaching at the local elementary school.
the first sunday you came in a modest dress, your soft eyes taking in the composure of the church before they landed on him. a demure smile settled on your face and you ducked your head after meeting his eyes.
he was hooked.
it's not like he could help it. your eyes stayed trained on him throughout every service and he loved your attention. he thrived under your watchful gaze, the way you hung off of every word he spoke.
and you weren't a mystery, nanami could read you like a book. he saw the way your thighs clenched in the pew when his voice raised.
it only took a few weeks for you to show up in his office.
the perfect combination of innocent and repentant. the conversation starts sweet, a recollection of your time in college and your abandonment of church.
"i didn't go to church when i went away, i was busy and distracted," you sigh, fiddling with your fingers. "i have maintained my purity in college, but recently, i've been...tempted."
nanami can't explain the relief that floods him when he hears that you're a virgin, and the excitement that hits him when you start to open up.
"i've been having impure thoughts and they've been getting worse every week, i try to ignore them, but last night, i couldn't." your voice is a shaky whine, afraid of the consequences. "i touched myself."
your confession has nanami's eyes nearly rolling back. he bites the inside of his cheek thinking about you with your hands between your legs, rocking against your fingers. he thinks about how slick your thighs would be, how easily you would give in and come for him. he knows you're pent up, you've spent your life in restriction.
it's that moment of silence that has you filling the gap again.
"it was only that one time father, and i've never done it before then, and i haven't done it since!"
nanami refrains from smiling, only nodding at your words. he leans forward, clasping his hands on the desk.
"i'd like you to come to me the next time you're experiencing your impure thoughts, i believe i can help."
you graciously accept and nanami only bids you a good evening.
he doesn't expect to see you again so soon, or for you to be sitting in his office on a friday night, the edge of your skirt between your fingers, tears in your eyes.
"i'm so sorry father nanami, i tried not to think about it!" you're crying now and nanami is so thankful he's behind his desk because the sight of your tears is getting him so hard.
he gives you a little smile before he asks, "what did you think about?"
this is when you freeze, body tight and in panic. you stutter out a few words, but nanami cuts you off. "it's okay, all have sinned and fall short of the glory of god, confess and i can help you."
with his reassurance, you open your mouth and confess.
"i have these thoughts all the time," you bow your head and swallow harshly as you continue. "it's wrong but i think about him having sex with him."
"it's best to talk about our sins," nanami takes a slow breath before rising from his chair. "to relieve ourselves from concealment. who is this person you're having these thoughts about?"
at his words, your eyes meet his again. "i can't—"
"do you believe that you can hide from god? they are not hidden from my face, nor is their sin concealed from my eyes."
his tone is stern and it makes you nervous to see the hard line of his frown.
"it's you."
nanami clenches his teeth at your pitiful, little whisper. the shame sits hot in your face and he can't help but drink it in.
he can't bring himself to pull back because he was fucked from the moment you walked into the church. your little white dress was the noose around his priesthood.
the only thing he can do now is drag you down with him.
that night, nanami consoles your fears and worries, he tells you the real work will start after sunday morning service. he promises you that there is nothing to worry about, there is no sin that can't be washed clean by god's love.
so sunday evening, you tell your parents you're doing intensive study with nanami and they are overjoyed to hear it.
in fact, they encourage you to stay as long as you can.
so nanami takes his time with you. he walks you through scriptures and teachings and prayers and at the end he even gives you a technique to keep you from truly sinning.
"what people don't know is that masturbation is a sin," nanami explains, taking your hands in his. "only if you climax."
your eyebrows furrow and nanami continues, "it's not a sin if you don't finish."
he demonstrates by having you sit on top of his desk, skirt hiked up around your waist, panties hanging off your ankle.
nanami's kneeling in front of you, eyes shut. he's just breathing you in and he wasn't surprised to see that your thighs are glistening. you've just spent the last hour skirting his touches and listening to the rumble of his voice.
he pets lightly at your folds, as you lean back, propped up on your elbows. spreading you open, nanami groans to himself at your slick hole, begging for him to touch you. his fingers trace lightly over your cunt before tapping at your clit.
of course you're sensitive. his light touches have you trembling and shaking, already crying out his name.
"is this what you thought of when you touched yourself," nanami speaks, his breath right over your mound. his eyes flicker up to meet yours, hooded and desperate. "me between your legs, playing with this filthy mess?"
you nod pathetically and nanami continues. there's no rhyme or reason to the way he's touching you. he's greedily spreading your mess around your thighs and flicking at your clit while you cry above him.
"please, please nanami, it feels so good."
he responds by sealing his mouth over you, teasing his tongue against your clit.
his finger starts slipping inside your cunt, stretching you out. nanami relishes in how tight you are, knowing that your little fingers weren't enough to open you up for him. with little effort, nanami's grazing spots inside of you that you didn't even know existed.
your mess is sliding down his wrist, but he doesn't stop. he keeps going until you're whining his name again, desperate and pleading.
"oh god, please, i can't!" your fingers find purchase in his hair, keeping his mouth over your pussy. "let me cum! just this once, please, i'll be good. i need you."
tears are welling up in your eyes, but nanami knows this isn't what you need right now. he feels your cunt tightening around his fingers as your voice goes up in shrill cries.
"you want to cum?"
"yes, so bad! please let me cum!"
it only worsens when he pulls away, leaving you empty.
the tendrils of your upcoming orgasm slip away and your tears fall even faster.
your watery eyes find nanami who's sitting back, smiling teasingly at you.
"see? you did so good."
you don't believe him, not until nanami has kneeling in front of him as performs similar acts on himself.
his cock is hard and weeping against his fist. he insisted on using the slick from your denied orgasm to smooth the movements of his hand. the wet sounds of his pleasure fill the office.
"you make me feel so good, you're so damn pretty," nanami grunts. you're inches away from his dick, and he can feel the puffs of your breath against the tip. your eyes are trailing the motions of his hand, the flex of his stomach, and the tension in his thighs.
his languid pace speeds up to something rough and fast, it's taking everything in nanami not to come on your face, not to spew every disgusting thought in his mind.
all in due time.
so he settles for making you think he's just like you. when he feels the knot of pleasure about to unwind, he grabs the base of dick and squeezing until your name sounds like a curse on his lips.
"god, baby, see?" he's out breath, but it's okay when he sees the light smile on your lips. "it's okay if you don't come."
nanami honestly doesn't know when he got so fucked. he thought he had control of this. he believed he had control of his actions, but you've taken root in his brain, and he had to know that edging you and himself wasn't going to be enough.
it only takes a few more sessions for nanami to convince you to do more. that it's okay, as long as you come with nanami in the room to oversee it. and it's okay as long as you come on his fingers, or in his mouth.
now, nanami has you grinding on his lap, using your cute little cunt to give him a pussyjob. your panties are stuffed in his pocket and his pants are around his ankles. his dick is harder than its ever been in his life, the tip is leaking between your pussy lips, throbbing and red.
"don't worry," nanami groans into your neck. "it's fine as long as i'm not inside you."
nanami feels like he might even believe it himself, because he knows it must be heaven inside your pussy. and to deprive himself of it right now must make him a saint.
the way you're whining in his ear and clutching his shoulder has nanami strongly considering otherwise.
"this feels so good, you're so big nanami!"
and while he doesn't need his ego stroked, he knows your words are genuine. he can tell from the way you're crying it out in disbelief. he needs to hear the way you'll sound when he's sinking his cock inside you, fucking against that sweet spot he touches his fingers.
"'nami, 's good, oh my—" you cut yourself off with a broken moan, and nanami can tell you're getting close with the way your slick pours out, covering his cock.
he's learned that you cum the hardest when he's pinching your nipples and talking you through it. so with one hand nanami guides your hips, keeping you moving in his lap, and with the other he's playing with your chest.
all the while nanami's speaking praises into your ear.
"you're such a pretty little angel, you listen so well," nanami kisses your neck, careful not to leave a mark above your collar. "always so perfect for me."
and his words have you soaring, crying out his name as you clutch his shirt.
but this is still not enough.
your pretty eyes filled with tears and the sound of his name on your lips isn't enough anymore.
it should be alarming that it's taken nanami such a short period of time to be so infatuated with you, but he can't bring himself to care.
not when you look at him like he hung the stars in the sky,
like he gave the sun it's light,
like he's god.
it's love and it's power and nanami cannot let this go. your body is singing the devil's song and he's echoing the words.
so in the same breath, he's teasing the tip of his cock at your entrance, whispering reassurance as he does.
"promise it'll be just the tip, angel, just need to feel you like this."
he doesn't try to assuage you with promises of heaven and a sinless life. he knows that won't work. nanami thinks you might love him more than you love your religion.
he hopes he's right.
so you're giving in, making him promise "just the tip." and nanami nods half-heartedly, already pussydrunk imagining the way you're going to swallow him up.
"too big, 'nami, 's too big!"
but it's just the tip and it's got his eyes fluttering at the feeling of your sucking him.
he lets you settle around him before he tilts your head up to look at him again. placing kisses under your jaw, he tries to distract himself from the inviting warmth of your heat, but the feeling of his lips on your neck has you squirming in his lap.
"i can—oh god—i can take more, right? you'll give me more?" you whine in his ear, desperate and pleading, like it's nanami's fault he's not touching your cervix right now.
in truth nanami was trying to control the situation, swearing to himself that he wouldn't ruin you in one night.
but he's a weak man with simple desires and being inside you is a pleasure he can no longer deny himself.
so nanami takes your hips in his hands and keeps you right on his tip. then he takes his time sinking you down, ignoring your cries and whines of it being too much. he knows you can take it.
it takes him too long to get your hips all the way down, his balls pressed against your ass. by the time he's seated completely inside you, sweat has collected in the valley between your breasts and nanami has left marks along your neck.
"doin' so good for me, so wet and tight," nanami grunts in your ear. his praise sinks right in your stomach and he knows it.
nanami tries to take it slow because this is your first time, he barely even got to prep you, but once he starts thrusting, the sound of your voice knocks him out entirely.
"oh—oh my god!" your nails are raking down his back as you cry out, "kento!"
the sound of his first falling off your lips has nanami's rhythm stuttering. he doesn't know why it floors him, but he knows he's not going as slow as he was when he first started.
in the back of his mind, he know he should not be drilling you like this. nanami should have you laid out on his bed, softly easing his way into your cunt, probably with a condom on, after having wrung multiple orgasms from your body. he should continue praising you, reminding how good you're doing for him.
instead he's got you bouncing totally naked in his lap, his pants down around his ankles, with his hand clutching the base of your throat. tears are falling down your cheeks and nanami can't stop himself from licking them up with fervor. and all he can think of is how filthy you are for letting him fuck you in a church, and that's all that comes out of his mouth.
"so fucking slutty for me, baby," nanami groans, thrusting up harder. "letting me in this cunt so easily? have you been saving it for me?"
"yeah, all for you, just for you," you swear. "god, it's only yours!"
nanami nods, kissing your lips sloppily, "just for me? your tight, wet pussy was waiting for my fucking cock?"
"kento—"
"this body's supposed to be the temple of god, you know that? i've taken an oath, bound myself to God, spent hours of my life in prayer and solitude," nanami rambles, flicking your nipples as he speaks. "then you walk in with this sweet, virgin cunt and i've never wanted anything more."
with every thrust, nanami's rolling against your spot, fucking you into the shape of his cock. and he's in your ear telling you that he owns you now, that every inch of your body belongs to him, entirely. so you keep agreeing with him, nodding and promising that nobody else will touch you like this.
he's got his hands all over your body, playing with your chest, groping your ass, and then gripping your throat tightly.
in the silence that comes from you being choked, nanami chuckles a little.
"hear that?"
and you know what he's talking about immediately. the sounds of him fucking you, the squelching sounds of your arousal loud and echoing in his office.
"it's how bad your little pussy wanted me. how bad she wanted to fuck her priest. came to my church to fuck things up, hm?" nanami slows down, grinding you on his lap while he taunts you. "wore that white dress and wanted me to lose my religion. knew i couldn't resist this hot fucking body sitting in my pew."
you're trying to disagree but with nanami's cock pressed against cervix, but you can't even uncross your eyes.
"fucking answer me."
nodding, you mindlessly agree, "yes, you're right! kento—my god—i'm so close, please don't stop."
and the way you keep mixing his name with cries for God is making nanami's head spin. he's starting to think you're doing it on purpose.
"yeah? beg me some more," nanami smiles, nipping at your neck again. "i like hearing you."
you bite back the petulant whine rising up in your throat and choose to be obedient. "kento, please let me cum—want it so bad, please!"
this time nanami obliges you, twisting your nipples between his fingers, urging you to cum for him.
"be my nasty fucking girl and cum on my cock, sinful little slut."
your nails dig harshly into his shoulder as you toss your head back in heavenly ecstasy.
"oh my—fuck!"
the curse falling from your lips is followed by the collection of tension in your body. your cunt tightens around nanami's cock as you freeze on nanami's lap. he keeps fucking you through it, his cock pounding into your cunt while you gush and squirt around him.
"can you cum inside me, kento? please?" you're begging again, even more for his cum than for your own orgasm. "i want it so bad, want you to fill me up, okay? you'll do it right, kento? you'll give me your cum?"
and what choice does nanami have? he has to empty his balls inside you.
"gonna dump my fucking cum in your cunt," nanami growls.
that's all the warning you get before he's fulfilling his promise, giving you everything he's got. his groans and curses fill your ears while his hips stutter, painting your insides white.
nanami sighs in contentment, rubbing his hands up and down your back as his cock softens inside you. he feels you relax in his lap, tiredness overtaking your limbs.
the evidence of your sin leaks down to nanami's balls.
you lean your forehead against his, stars still in your eyes. even after the depraved acts nanami's performed on you in the last couple of weeks, you still think he's created heaven and earth.
"thank you so much kento, you're so good to me," you whisper and it sounds like a prayer.
in nanami's ears, it sounds like worship.
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httpsserene · 7 months
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ʜᴛᴛᴘꜱꜱᴇʀᴇɴᴇ'ꜱ ꜰ1 ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟ
ᴜᴘʟᴏᴀᴅ 1 : ᴄʜᴀʀʟᴇꜱ ʟᴇᴄʟᴇʀᴄ / ᴍᴀx ᴠᴇʀꜱᴛᴀᴘᴘᴇɴ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ |ᴄᴏʀʀᴜᴘᴛɪᴏɴ ᴋɪɴᴋ
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📖ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: innocent and virgin !reader has never touched herself before. she knows how to, in theory, but whenever she tries, she chickens out. her tried and true way of receiving pleasure is failing her. she thinks that maybe it's time to allow her relationship with her two respectful and experienced boyfriends, to reach the next step. and she'll find that they're very willing to teach her a few things. 📖ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: 18+ only. smut. corruption kink. orgasm delay/denial. praise kink. dom/sub undertones. hair-pulling. possessiveness. slight choking (glimpse and you miss it?). brief reference to previous dub-con (very minuscule, not charles or max). no penetrative sex. 📖ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 8k words 📖ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: charles leclerc / max verstappen x fem!black!reader 📖ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: oneshot 📖ꜱᴏᴜɴᴅᴛʀᴀᴄᴋ: all mine • brent faiyaz
ᴘʀᴇꜰᴀᴄᴇ: the strength i had to summon to post this is something crazy. it's my first smut fic if you can believe it or not, but the way i feel exposed to the world is wild. i almost forgot to include the actual kink because i got carried away, but it's there i promise you, don't get disappointed too early in! can confirm that while i was writing this i had to take several breaks and stare at the ceiling. the black!reader is vague i think, it's not noticeable until the end, but i had written it with all shades of my poc girlies in mind < 3. n e ways: hope you guys like it!
want to be added to my f1 kinktober taglist? or my general tag list? send me an ask!
huge thanks to my beta readers @lorarri and @sweetpiccolo-blog ! i appreciate y'all so much :)
cross-posted on my ao3, htpsss
here's the link to the masterlist for my f1 kinktober special, and send me a private message if you would like to be added to the list to become a beta reader in the future!!!
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it’s late. you’ve kicked jimmy and sassy out of the bedroom, and locked it shut. you’re standing with your back pressed against the door, staring with unfocused eyes. you moved your stuffed animals inside the closet and had them facing the wall even though you closed the closet door. the window curtains are drawn shut, and the only light in the room is the warmth of one nightstand lamp. one of the plushest towels max owns is spread across the bed. in the center lays a single pillow.
this is the last chance you have to get off before max and charles get home in a few hours. they’ve been gone for a triple-header, and you haven’t been able to orgasm once in the near month they’ve been gone. you’ve become depraved enough to consider buying a vibrator, but all packages delivered to this apartment have to be approved by max or charles to be sent up, and you’re definitely not bold enough to go out and buy one (and risk being seen by one of their fans or have to physically talk to someone to buy one).
the obvious thing to do would be to talk to your boyfriends, and tell them that you’re ready to start exploring the sexual side of your relationship. you’ve been dating them for two years now, and you’re afraid that they’re getting tired of waiting for you to be comfortable enough to have sex with them. but, you’re also afraid that once they learn how inexperienced you really are—they’ll make fun of you, leave you, and find some other woman who knows how to please them. you know that’s outrageous and never going to happen. they’re the sweetest boys you’ve ever dated (way better than that one dude you dated who tried to get you wasted enough to persuade you into having sex with him), and they’ve been very respectful concerning your boundaries. always pulling away when they feel themselves getting hard, and constantly reminding you to tell them to stop if you feel uncomfortable and that there’s nothing wrong with that, and that they’re willing to wait as long as you need, and will continue loving you regardless even if you decide to never have sex with them. so—of course you know that they won’t be assholes about your innocence—it’s just your own self-esteem, insecurity, and overthinking that prevents you from saying you’re ready.
you make a deal with yourself. if you can’t manage to get off grinding against your pillow one last time, you’ll force yourself to sit down with your boyfriends, stare them in the eyes and state that your ready to have sex. who are you kidding—you’re going to get off right now one way or another even if it kills you, because you definitely will wither away and die if you have to have that conversation with your boyfriends.
you walk over to the bed, heart beginning to race as you start playing one of those curated “songs i’d like to be railed to” playlists, before throwing your phone somewhere up the bed. you move to straddle the pillow, and begin to calm your heartbeat. you take a few deep breaths and let your mind wander. the first thought that comes to your head is the goodbye kiss you got from your boyfriends before they left. 
they had gotten all their luggage together and were pulling on their shoes at the entryway. charles was pouting at you, wide green eyes and all, “you are sure that you don’t want to come with us? for at least one of the races? we’ll be gone for almost a—“ 
“yes, cha. i’m sure,” you cut him off with a firm nod, “lemme give you a kiss before you leave, okay?”
charles frowned at max who laughed—like he wasn’t the one begging you to come with them last night before you all went to bed. with a little upset ‘hmph’ charles leaned down and kissed you softly. you had pulled away, only trying to give him a peck, and charles grunted disapprovingly. one of his veiny hands rose and gripped at your waist over your t-shirt, strongly pulling you forward, causing you to tumble into his chest. “oh, i am going to need more than that, mon ange,” charles smirked down at you, “i am leaving for so long, and that’s the goodbye kiss you’re leaving me with? no, i do not think so.” 
you glanced away from him, cheeks beginning to become warm as you make to hide your face is his broad chest. charles tutted at you, tightening his grip on your waist, and his other hand gently pushed your head up to look at him, “c’mere and give me a real kiss, pretty girl.”
you made a suppressed little squeal in the back of your throat, a noise max and charles became very familiar with, often present when they start teasing you. you surprisingly leaned up and initiated the kiss, causing charles to let out a shocked gasp into your mouth. his hand on your waist moved lower, falling to the small of your back and pushed your body completely against his. his other hand caressed your jaw, soothing you enough to allow him to control the kiss, as he flicked his tongue at the seam of your lips. you shakily sighed, allowing him entrance and the kiss deepened, a pleased humming noise in the back of your throat escaping.
you impatiently shift side to side on top of the pillow, not yet allowing yourself to get any friction. sliding both of your hands underneath your sweater—well, max’s sweater, and you start playing with your chest. flicking gently at your nipples, just the way you like. 
you could feel charles chuckle into the kiss, but you dismiss it, and keep kissing at him eagerly. however, you failed to recognize that he wasn’t laughing at you, he was laughing at max. cockily making eye-contact with him, before he let his eyes flutter shut and devoted his attention to you.
max stared on, his mouth slightly open as he watched his two loves give him a show for free. charles’ hand slipped lower, gliding over your ass, across your criminally well-fitted jeans, and found its home on the back of your thigh. max is well acquainted with how skilled charles’ mouth is, so he knows he must have done something spectacular to cause a choked-off moan to escape you, your hand raised to grab at charles’ polo in a fist, wrinkling the pressed shirt. max huffed, deciding to no longer spectate, and took the few steps to reach you across the foyer.
you let out a shocked gasp, eyes fluttering open in surprise at the feeling of your other boyfriend pressed up against your back. you attempt to break the kiss, but charles doesn’t let you. hand slipping from your cheeks to the nape of your neck, tangling in the hairs there and keeping you exactly where he wants. one of max’s hands came to rest at your hip, while the other rested on your navel. your eyes fell shut again in pleasure at how charles gently nipped at your bottom lip, and max’s presence is pushed to the back of your mind.
you didn’t register max’s hand disappearing from your abdomen, but suddenly, the air was cut with a pained moan from charles and his lips were ripped away from yours.
your eyes flew open, and max’s hand was buried in charles’ hair, tugging his head backward and maneuvering it into what must be an almost uncomfortable angle, but with how pleased charles looked—you wanted to feel it too. his eyes rolled backwards, before he pressed them shut and re-opened them to reveal dilated pupils and half-lidded lashes; panting hard, lips covered with your shared spit, and a fucked-out look in his eyes.
you struggle to pull off your sleeping shorts, eventually managing to tug them off to reveal your white cotton panties. your hand leaves your breast to touch at your heat, and you’re shocked at how wet you’ve gotten already. you use that same hand to adjust your pillow, before you let your hips fall all the way and make contact with the pillow. you sigh in relief.
now, max is the one to laugh with his hand firmly keeping charles in place. “oh, you know better than to tease me charlie…” he started, and you barely heard him. fixated on the way charles’ tongue frequently slips out to lick at his lips, but you could hear the smirk max was wearing. 
���and you’re also not the only one leaving our sweet girl for a month. you should be nice and let me have a taste too, hm? isn’t that right, schatje?” he directs at charles. max’s other hand made its way up your abdomen, copping a feel at your chest, before it rested across your throat. he wasn’t squeezing at all, but the weight of his hand, how it spans across your neck, and how you can feel the strength lying underneath his skin, caused you to lose your breath. he guided your head back and dropped his to get his own goodbye kiss.
the kiss felt like it lasted for a lifetime, but realistically it had to be less than a minute of max forcing charles to watch how he ravaged your mouth, before charles started whining loudly. max patted your neck gingerly before pulling away and laughing at charles’ teary eyes. your legs were trembling and you were pretty sure if max wasn’t behind you, you would’ve fallen long ago. in one smooth motion, his hand fell to the monegasque’s throat from his hair and pulled him closer, completely sandwiching you between them, as their lips met in a wild kiss. 
your hips start to rock against the pillow, keeping it slow in the beginning, learning your lesson about friction burn the last time you got too erratic with your moves too quickly.
charles—completely desperate—whined deep in his throat and max kept pulling consistently depraved moans and grunts out of your boyfriend. max’s other hand moved off of your hip to smack at charles’, a nonverbal command for him to calm down and let max take care of him. you felt charles practically vibrating against you in need, but he slowly started to calm; his posture slackening and lips slowing, allowing the dutch full control. 
the two of them were completely ignoring you. caught in their own world, putting all of their energy into their kisses, and in turn gave you a front row seat to something you're never going to forget about. you felt so small in between the two of them, like the only thing that kept you from floating away is the fact that you were stuck in between their bodies.
eventually, max released his grip on charles and separated from the kiss, giving charles air to breathe. the blonde stepped backwards away from your body, and you stumbled embarrassingly. max’s hands went up to hover around your waist (suddenly so shy to touch you) to make sure you actually didn't fall. charles shook his head, physically trying to clear the haze in his mind before he stumbled away from you as well, pressing his back against the wall. 
his chest was heaving with exertion, cheeks flushed a pretty red color, while his hands went to tug at his uncomfortably tight pants, failing to adjust himself to make his erection less obvious. he suddenly turns shy as well—it probably doesn’t help that max was laughing at how easy he is to turn on—, and charles tries to try and tug his shirt down to cover up his problem as best as he can. 
your hips start to pick up in speed, movements more sure and less shaky. the friction between the cotton pillowcase and panties is multiplied on your cunt, and when you rock down deep enough, the catch of the panties on your clit is nearly immobilizing. 
thinking about the moment before your boys left leads you into fantasizing about their dynamic, and how they are in the bedroom. that morning alone proved who was actually in charge; charles will tease and take whatever he can, as long as max allows him to. you can recall many instances of max guiding a well-fucked charles out of the bedroom and depositing him on your lap, before he went on to clean up and run the monegasque a bath. 
the multiple post-sex facetimes you’ve gotten from the two when they’re across the world always starts with max softly speaking, “i’ve worn him out pretty good, but he refuses to fall asleep unless he gets to call you.” and the phone is passed to charles, who’s voice and lips are ruined to hell and you have to decipher what he’s attempting to say.
you’re starting to acclimate to the current tempo, so you pick it up another notch. you lean forward, bracing your hands on the bed for support as you focus on doing deeper and slower grinds against the pillow, allowing your clit to get constant attention.
you find comfort in the fact that charles allows max to take him to such a vulnerable state, and sometimes—you even find yourself getting jealous. you started joining them to see their aftercare for yourself, and found out that you're aching to be taken apart and put back together like max and charles do to each other. 
the sound of max’s constant praises of charles being “so good for him,” and charles’s constant stream of “thank you, thank you, maxy” has you losing all train of thought.
you abandon the slow-and-steady technique, you’ve tried it several times this month and it’s failed to get you to come. you bite your lip, letting out a frustrated groan. your hips slow, and you grab the front of the pillow with one hand and pull it upwards, hoping that a tighter space allows better friction. you start moving quicker, doing smaller more shallow motions and it’s tons better. you can’t stop thinking that it would be even better to ride charles’ face. 
even though your eyelids are scrunched shut, the thousands of tiktok edits you’ve seen of your boyfriends post-race; balaclava lines, sweaty, messy hair, and all—are playing behind them. you moan out desperately, toes curling in your socks. you hear the phantom noises of monegasque moans along with the imagined whispers of dutch-accented praises. 
the knot in your navel tightens, your thighs begin to tremble, and you can feel yourself clenching around nothing. this is it, the feeling that’s escaped you for a month, it’s returning, you can finally come. 
you start to rut against the pillow, uncaring of how your wetness has seeped into the pillow cover and sticks against your thighs—if anything, it’s just another pleasant sensation. unfiltered squeals and gasps start slipping out, you’re too blissed out to regulate your volume at this point.
but then, a minute passes and you still haven’t fallen over the precipice. it’s right there; you can see it, you can even hear it, but you can’t fucking feel it. 
your moans of pleasure turn into cries of frustration. your legs start to quiver with exhaustion, and the orgasm you almost had fades. tears spill from your eyes, as you frantically rut against the soaked pillow, not caring about rhythm or technique anymore. and your chance is gone, your sobs echoing around the room at another failed attempt.
you climb off the pillow and fall on your side, crying into the towel trying to muffle your anguished noises. you have the fleeting thought to think that you're overreacting, but fuck that. you’ve literally been unwillingly denying yourself for a month.
after you’ve cried yourself out, you get up and start to clean up the mess you made. when you lean down to pick up the shorts you flung across the room, you hear jimmy and sassy start yowling outside of the room. and faintly, you hear the front door open.
fuck.
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a giggle slips out of charles as the cries of the cats are heard outside of the apartment door. max shoots a glare at charles for laughing at his children, before he loses the fight and a smile slips out in response to the monegasque’s. finally managing to slip the key into the lock, max speaks, “we’re supposed to surprise her by being early, cha—maybe we should’ve let the cat’s know when we called earlier today?” they step through the threshold, quickly shutting the door behind them so the cats won’t run out. charles makes a questioning hum as they both start slipping out their jackets, “they are cats, mon minou. i do not think they care about anything other than when you come back to feed them.”
max side eyes him heavily as he squats down to untie his sneakers, and looks around slightly confused, “i think we are missing a greeting from one more kitten, wouldn't you say, charles?” the man in question nods in agreement, while finally petting jimmy and sassy to calm them down a little bit. whenever the two of them return home, you usually race to the door along with the cats. you give them warm hugs and sweet kisses, help them take their jackets off, and let them know if you cooked a meal for them, or prepared a bath. 
but tonight, they don’t hear the sound of your footsteps coming towards them. it’s rare for them not to be greeted at the door, most of the time you beat them to unlocking it, with the alarm system the cats provide. 
charles questions, “maybe she fell asleep? we did not tell her that we moved our flight earlier. and we did tell her to go to bed because we would be arriving late.”
max snorts disbelievingly, “when has she ever gone to bed when we’ve told her to,” he starts, “she’s probably just in the bathroom or something.”
the two spend a few minutes paying some attention to the cats, before they begin to get suspicious at the fact that you still haven’t come to welcome them back. they straighten up and start heading towards the bedroom. 
max pushes the door open, and everything looks normal except for the fact that you’re nowhere to be seen. the bed is put together, one nightstand lamp is on, and the bathroom is empty. max and charles stare at each other with matching baffled expressions, before you clear your throat in the doorway.
max jumps, “shit!” and charles flinches, “oh, what the fuck!”
your giggles reverberate through the air, and the two men can only laugh along with you. “oh? so you find scaring us funny, schat?” max teases gently. you pad over to him, throwing your arms around his neck to pull him in for a tight hug, nodding softly into his neck as you breathe him in. charles huffs after he’s deemed that you spent too much time loving on max before he pulls you into his own grasp, one arm braced tightly around your waist while his other hand cradles the back of your head resting in his chest. “she’s absolutely frightening, max, can’t you tell?” he teases back, defending you jokingly. 
max hums, “definitely. where were you hiding, baby?”
you freeze for second as you pull away from charles’ grasp, before stuttering your way through an explanation, “u-uh oh, i was-um, i was just in the laundry room! i was just putting a few things i had accidentally spilled uh- spilled juice on-yes juice of course, in the uh-washing machine, yes,” you nod firmly, to fully convince them.
the monegasques raises an eyebrow at you and dragged out an, “…….okay, i guess?” max follows up with a sarcastic, “yeah….we definitely believe you!”
you narrow your eyes at him, “are you calling me a liar, max? because, why would i lie about—“
charles cuts you off, turning your head back towards him as he squints at your face. he runs his thumb underneath one of your eyes, and speaks softly, “were you crying, mon ange? your eyes are red and swollen.”
you shake your head rapidly to attempt to dismiss his worry but it’s already too late. max practically teleports to your side and scans your face and with a gasp he reveals, “yes, you did cry. i can still see the tears stained on your cheeks.”
you shift uncomfortably, “yes, okay! i did cry! but it was nothing serious,” you pause and mumble the last part of your sentence, “i was just overreacting anyways, it doesn’t matter.”
max smacks his teeth at you disapprovingly, “hey, don’t be mean to yourself, schatje. anything that causes you to cry does matter. tell us, and we can try and make it better for you.” the two boys wear you down with earnest eyes; the monegasque brushes his lips against your hand comfortingly and the dutchman tucks your hair behind your ears soothingly. they wait patiently and don’t attempt to push you any further, but there’s an unspoken understanding between the two of them; they won’t let this go until you explicitly ask them two. and suddenly, your resistance falls and words start rushing out of your mouth.
“im so tired, okay? i’ve been trying for ages, ages, and i can’t get there! everytime i try, i-i-it’s like i’m right there–right there! and then it never comes! it’s torture. the harder i try to reach for it, the more it slips away, and then it doesn’t even feel good anymore! i thought this was supposed to feel good–and now what’s the point?! i don’t even wanna try again if i’m just going to be–”
“woah, woah, woah.” max cuts you off, “what are we talking about exactly, schatje? have you not been getting enough sleep or something? because we can try and–" you interrupt, “NO! i haven’t came in a MONTH! are you even listening to me?!”
charles chokes on his own breath and max damn near faints. most importantly, they’re shaken at your bluntness around the topic; every time they try to ask if you’ve been finding…relief–for lack of a better word, you tend to snap shut if they use any ‘explicit’ words with you– you tell them not to worry about it. so, to hear you say it plainly reveals how much distress this has been causing you. secondly, the thought that you’ve been desperately trying to get off for a month on your own, is a paralyzing thought. they nearly convinced themselves that you had no idea about anything sexual due to your refusal to answer any of their questions—which there would be nothing wrong with, they’d be happy to teach you how to please them and them alone. it’s a seductive thought, the fact that you’re untouched, that no man has had the opportunity to taint you and ruin your perspective on how you should receive and give pleasure. they’ve been praying for the day you’d be ready to let them teach you how to be good for them. maybe that makes them monsters, for taking advantage of your naivety and innocence, and molding you into their perfect girl, but they stopped feeling guilty for desiring this long ago. 
you seem to have missed the fact that you sent their minds reeling and continue venting, “i don’t know what to do, maxy!  i’ve been doing the same thing, and it’s NEVER failed me before. it’s cruel that it stopped working when you guys left me for more than a month! no matter how i did it–if i did the exact same things i’ve always been doing, or tried something new, nothing worked! i was literally just considering buying a fucking vibrator! a vibrator, charles, i’d rather run naked in the street than buy that online and have to put in this delivery address–”
charles gently presses finger against your mouth, shushing you. he pulls you into a deep hug, rubbing a hand up and down the length of your back , the motion pacifying you. he hums, and it vibrates through his chest to yours, “mmm, we’re home now, mon ange. there’s no need to run in the streets naked–” “definitely not,” max jumps in, reacting possessively at the implication of other people seeing you undressed. charles rolls his eyes and continues (like he’s not just as jealous as max), “or buy a vibrator. i know it must be so frustrating, to not cum,” you gasp softly, “especially when you’ve been edging yourself accidentally for so long, hm?”
a questioning sound slips from your lips, “hm? what’s edging? i just haven’t,” your voice drops to a whisper, “cum.” max thinks that he’s seriously fucked-up in the head, because he watches how you bury your face into charles’s chest after your whispered word, refusing to make eye contact with them out of embarrassment; and relishes at the fact that you absolutely have no idea about what exactly you’ve been doing to yourself. he’s going to enjoy ruining teaching you everything he knows.
“edging is repeated instances of sexual stimulation and stopping before your orgasm. it’s called that because you are kept ‘on the edge.’ you can do it to yourself or with others,” max states in an unfazed manner. he sees you start to relax, knowing that you find comfort in his matter-of-fact tone. 
a pout lowers your lips, “who would enjoy that? it feels terrible.”
max breaks out in a grin, slipping an arm around charles and squeezing at his tapered waist, “you know somebody who enjoys it very much, liefje,” charles blushes at the sudden call out, and watches the way your eyes widen in shock. max continues, “anyways, you may find that you enjoy it when it’s done properly—with people who are experienced enough to make sure you’re feeling good and keep you feeling good… and show you how to have a proper orgasm, hm?” max segways into the important topic, not allowing you to deflect any longer.
charles stops your attempt at hiding in his broad shoulder this time around, and firmly holds your face to keep you facing max. the dutch give charles a nod of appreciation and watches how he shifts on his feet at the acknowledgement; he might have to take care of him after he’s done with you, too. max allows your eyes to avoid meeting his, letting them roam his face as you battle your own insecurity.
“liefje,” max deepens his tone, knowing how you melt at any pitch similar to his morning voice, “there is no need to be embarrassed about your virginity and innocence. you had your boundaries set, and never bent or broke them to make someone happy at the cost of your comfort. no matter how much pressure someone applied to you, you refused to let them have you in one of the most vulnerable positions you could ever be in because you felt unsure or plainly uncomfortable with them. that is something you should take pride in and no one should make a joke out of your virginity for that instance. tonight, you can still make that decision if you are not completely sure on allowing charles and i the privilege of teaching you how to feel satisfied. we will continue to wait for you; you have the power here, not charles or i. do what is best for you at this moment, and if that changes, tell us so, and we will continue or stop at your will.”
the room is silent as the three of you digest max’s spiel. charles and max seem to be completely nonchalant about the matter, but they are trying to hide how anxious they are about your possible refusal, for your sake. of course they are hoping that you’ll accept their helping hands, or lips, or tongues, or coc—but, that’s not their main intention tonight. the goal is for them to start building a deeper level of understanding and trust with you, to where you allow yourself to be in your most vulnerable state with them. and that will take time; they’re not expecting you to completely reveal your innermost workings to them instantaneously. however, they most definitely want to show you how good they can make you feel and how good you can make them feel. and once you internalize that, then they can start working on showing you the wonders of sex—or plainly put, they can start tainting you.
you nod. charles eyes brighten and his cheeks dimple with the appearance of a wild smile. he leans in to kiss you in thanks, but max halts him with one finger to the forehead and a quick ‘aht aht,’ “that won’t do, liefje, i need verbal confirmation—words, please.”
“y-you can…you can help s-show and teach me how to…how to feel good. i am ready to have…,” your voice thins out, and suddenly you shake your head, eyes meeting max’s straight on in an unusual act of confidence, clearing your throat, “i am ready for us to have—i’m ready for you to fuck me.”
max wasn’t exactly ready for that wording and faltered, a little shook. charles on the other hand has to struggle to refrain from laughter. at the mixed reaction, your bravado slips away, and you add, “please?” charles loses the laugh automatically; your timid but desperate widened brown doe eyes stare up at the two of them, flickering between them anxiously, plump lips parted with your tongue flicking out—he has a few ideas of something he can offer to keep that mouth of yours busy.
max rumbles in satisfaction, “see, that wasn’t so hard, was it pretty girl? we’ll work on that confidence of yours for sure—but, i have a few rules for you first before we get started. charles, why don’t you tell our girl the first two?”
“number one, always answer our questions with words; if you don’t, we’ll stop and wait for you to respond. two, if you feel uncomfortable at any point, tell us, and we’ll stop what we’re doing and make it better for you or stop completely if necessary,” charles answers assuredly.
you nod, and max raises an eyebrow at you, “i mean, yes!”
max praises you, “you’re already doing so good for us,” he watches your breath catch at the sentence and figures he may have another praise kink on his hands, “you wanna be a good girl and tell me what you were really doing before we came home?” your cheeks burn and your previous embarrassment returns full force, but you fight through it, not wanting to break the rules right off the bat.
“well, you remember how i said my usual method wasn’t working anymore? i wasn’t lying about that. i only g-get off when you guys leave, andidoitbygrindingonapillow—and i have to put down a towel before becauseimakeamess. so! i really was doing laundry, i just didn’t spill juice on it…i kinda, spilled on it.”
charles’ hands fall away from you in shock, and max really doesn’t know if he can handle another revelation like this from you without actually passing out. you continue to over-explain, “and i i-i didn’t even get to, y’ know (oh my god, she soaked the pillow without even cumming, max!), and i got that wet anyway…and i can’t really control it, but if you guys don’t like it i can try and—“
“NO!” “PLEASE DON’T!”
you flinch away, and they apologize heavily for their overreaction.
“please, don’t, mon ange. i can tell you that max and i aren’t ever going to hate what’s between your legs, or what comes from there,” charles suggests with a smirk, before his face shifts to a more blank state “wait. did…did you have a chance to change?” you hum a little “mm-mm” glancing down at yourself still clad in max’s sweater and cotton panties, “uhm. no, i was a little more concerned with cleaning up the bed before you guys saw it so—sorry, i’m not a little more presentable—“
“are you wearing the same panties, mon ange?”
you freeze, brain lagging at what the monegasque had noticed. “mhm, yeah,” you whisper softly, playing with the hem of the sweater self-soothingly.
“can i,” charles takes a deep breath, “can i touch you, mon coeur?”
you squeak, “yes please, charlie.”
max watches as charles places his massive hand on one of your thighs, spanning the front with no struggle, and gently caresses his hand up, slowly making his way up your thigh. charles taps two fingers gently against you, and you spread your legs a smidge wider, and the sound of your thighs peeling off one another from the stickiness you leaked, reverberates around the room. max can’t help but let a moan slip out. charles slides his hand in between your legs, both of your own hands fisting at the hem of your borrowed sweatshirt, and you gasp at the lightest touch of charles pointer and middle finger against your soaked panties. max sees charles pupils blow wide and mouth drop open in awe—and he can’t wait anymore.
max presses his front to your back, sandwiching you in between them once again, and impatiently asks, “schatje, can i?” you let out a breathy ‘yeah,’ and max doesn’t hesitate to bully his hand in between your legs as well. he cops a more generous feel of your cunt, and groans at the state of ruin your panties are in.
“liefje,” max starts, “walk with me to the bed, please.” max pulls away, and unfastens one of your hands from the sweater to guide you. you turn around stumbling through your first few steps—charles sets you upright more prepared for your legs becoming jello than you are, and helps you over to the bed, one hand firmly set on the small of your back. max sits on the edge of the bed, man spreading comfortably, and watches how your eyes automatically fall to stare at his thighs with a smirk. he glances at charles behind you, who mouths ‘can’t blame her’ with a smirk of his own. the dutch pats his lap, “c’mere and give me a kiss, pretty girl.”
you rush to sit in his lap, slowing at the last minute, not wanting to sit your full weight on him. he huffs, and grabs at your hips situating you firmly on his lap, before leaning in and kissing you stupid. your gasp of shock transforms into a hum of pleasure, letting max have complete control of the kiss. his hand comes up to rest on the back of your head and moves you exactly where he wants, sucking on your bottom lip before slipping his tongue against yours. max kisses like he’s going to run out of time, he ravishes you completely. you squirm against him, pulling away to pant against his cheek needing air. max chuckles, and you only get to whine at his teasing for half a second before charles, who’s now sitting next to max, pulls you into another kiss. charles, on the other hand, kisses like he has all the time in the world, he draws it out. he keeps the kisses slow and closed in the beginning, pausing to pull away and thumb at your lips, relishing at how they’ve already swelled from max’s abuse, the surrounding skin already beginning to turn raw and sensitive from their friction of their facial hair. he continues kissing you, all tongue and sloppy not caring about about the way your hands come up to grasp at his chest in desperation, before switching to absolutely bruise your lips by nipping and tugging at them. 
your hips jump forward against max’s, and he can’t stop the groan that tumbles out. you jolt away from charles’ assault and stare at max with an embarrassed expression, “s-sorry—“ max narrows his eyes and dismisses your apology, “don’t apologize for that. you feel good, you’re allowed to show that unless i tell you differently.” 
“yes, max,” you answer, even though he didn’t ask a question.
“oh, you’re such a good girl for us, liefje,” he tests. and his instincts didn’t fail him. your hips twitch against his again, and a near inaudible moan slips from your lips.
he turns towards charles, “yeah, that works doesn’t it, cha?” charles nods, eyes still stuck on your lips. max smirks at charles being completely entranced, before turning back to you and clocks the glaze beginning to form over your eyes, “alright now, liefje, i need you to pay attention to me really quickly, hm?”
you hum, bobbing your head a few times, before you manage to get out a “yes, max.”
he holds your head steady with his thumb and pointer finger gripping your chin, “i’m not going anywhere, baby, take your time and focus.” it only takes you half a minute to truly focus in after your heart stops racing to give him another verbal confirmation before he continues. “tonight, neither one of us is going to make love to you—“ your shoulders drop and a frown is quick to spread across your mouth. you really only prepared for the situation that you’d tell them you were ready, and then you’d get railed into next sunday. you start to panic; maybe you came off too depraved, and he’s letting you down slowly—
“hey, hey, hey. no overthinking yet, let him finish, mon ange,” charles calls out to you worriedly, he’s experienced the same thought process you're going through before and would rather try and prevent the self-doubt from overtaking you.
max pets at your waist over the sweater and continues, “not tonight. we’ve just gotten off a flight, and had three back to back races. it’s late, and i’m sure all three of us are tired. we should initiate something like that with a clearer mind,” you feel a little selfish now, his points very valid, “but, i still want to give you an orgasm, okay? sure, you may not be able to get off by grinding on a pillow anymore. you’ve probably just acclimated to it and need to give it a break. so, to compromise: you’ll get off by riding my thigh.”
charles and max wait for your reaction. your frown lightens into a pout, but you’re disappointment doesn’t completely fade away. “how is that any different from riding the pillow? it’s the same thing.” charles laughs shakily, “oh, mon ange. you have no idea. listen to max and give it a try before you take it off the table completely.”
you shrug, and agree, “fine. how do i….uh how do i do the thigh riding, i guess?”
charles turns to look at max, wordlessly asking for permission, and max grants it with a wave of his hand. charles scoots up closer, and shifts your straddle from max’s whole lap to his right thigh. as soon as your pantie-covered cunt firmly presses on the muscle of max’s jean-clad thigh, a soft ‘oh’ croaks out of you. max flexes and relaxes his thigh once and your hips jump up and away from him. max and charles glance at each other; you’re ridiculously sensitive, they’ll have to see if that’s your natural state or if it’s just the result of your prolonged edging and the fact that you were grinding against a pillow not too long ago. charles squeezes your hips, bringing your attention to him, “i’m going to start guiding you now, you ready, mon coeur?”
“mmm, yeah—that felt really good, i want more,” you speak timidly.
“good,” charles states, and then he pulls your hips forward dragging you against max’s thigh, and a flash of heat zings up your spine. you moan, a small, breathy exhale, and charles keeps it slow at first, not pushing you down to roughly or making the motions too quick—he wants you to learn to love the friction again. barely a minute passes before your hips start fighting charles’ guided rhythm, and a frustrated groan slips out of you, not able to fight your boyfriends grip. max clocks back in from where he was watching the pleasure start to flicker on your face and asks, “what are you supposed to do, baby?”
“more-ah, please, charlie,” you moan shakily. charles smirks, “look at you, still using your manners like a good girl—“ a louder moan echoes, “okay, okay, mon coeur. i’ll get you there, i’ll get you to cum like you need, okay? i’ll make you forget all about your manners too, hmm?”
you stopped listening to anything after charles reassured you that he’s going to get you to cum, you believe him. he adjusts his grip on your hips and starts incrementally increasing the pace and pressure for you. your moans start to become more frequent, and increasing in pitch rapidly, the drivers can tell you’re hurtling towards your long-awaited orgasm, sooner than they thought. charles slowly releases his grip on your waist letting your hips take over once he’s sure you’ve gotten the hang of it. you throw your head back in pleasure, your hips have a steady grind and…and you’re feeling good. a suprised laugh slips out of your lips at that and shifts into a sharp moan when max starts flexing his thigh rhythmically giving you a little more texture to work with. max lets his heavy hands fill in for where charles’ and presses you down into deeper slower strokes. 
you cry out, it’s a little too much for you, but it feels so good, that you bear with it, they know what’s best for you, anyways. max grins down at you smugly, and you start to tear up a little; he can still feel your hips twitching away from the pressure sometimes. not wanting to push you too far with that motion alone, he lightens up on the pressure but starts bouncing his thigh. the shriek you release surprises all three of you, but you don’t run from it, if anything you lean into it more. one of your hands fists into charles’ shirt for support, and the other falls to max’s, tugging it off your left hip so you can hold it tight. max’s grin softens into a small smile and he kisses your joined hands, and charles leans into press kisses on your neck, praise slipping out of their lips freely.
“doing so good for us, pretty girl.”
“yeah, baby, that’s it. take what you need.”
“don’t be shy, let those sweet moans out for us.”
“just like that, oh! look at that, you’ve leaked all over his thigh,” charles points out. max looks down and registers that his pant leg is sticking down to his thigh and the denim has darkened with the amount of wetness. “oh, yeah. look at that, baby,” max pats on the side of your face, and you can’t even recall when you screwed your eyes shut, but you look down, and a mortified squeal leaves you. not much longer and you’ll have drowned his thigh. the dutchman sucks his teeth at you, “don’t be embarrassed, liefje. i can’t wait until i can taste it straight from the source,” he moves his other hand underneath the sweatshirt, and slips two fingers between your inner thigh while gathering your wetness. he sucks on one finger moaning explicitly at your taste, before offering both fingers to charles to clean off. the monegasque flicks his tongue out teasingly tasting them first, before he makes a quick motion of sucking them in and fully running his tongue in every crevice to get every last drop of your taste. 
you moans start to become pitchy little ah-ah-ah’s, and you frantically start rabbiting your hips. you’re so close. max squeezes you hand, and starts up the praise again.
“i wasn’t joking, schatje. when i finally get my mouth on your pretty little cunt, you won’t be able to pull me off of you until i force at least three orgasms out of you.”
charles pulls off of max’s fingers and adds, “i need to give her three or four from my mouth too. i don’t think she’ll be able to handle that many.”
“yes, she can. she’s such a good girl for us, she’d let us keep going until we tell her when she’s done.”
“mmm, yeah—she’s right there, look at that cute little face she’s making.”
“her pretty little o-mouth, we should fill that up for her too.”
“thinkin i’ll fill that sweet little cunt of hers first with my dick—“
what escapes your mouth is definitely a scream, and max can’t bring himself to muffle it even though it’s the middle of the night. he pays a hefty sum of money for this penthouse, they can deal with hearing how charles and him make you scream with pleasure. your orgasm completely whites-out all of your senses; ears ringing, eyes rolled back, skin feeling raw and thighs shaking. max and charles work your hips back and forth a few more times, helping you with the aftershocks until you squirm out of their hands. you fall forward into max’s chest, body trembling, and tears streaming down your face.
max cradles you close and scratches at your head, calling your name a few times to get a gauge of how out of it you are. with no verbal response, he sends charles to get water and a towel to clean you up. max softly murmurs praises at you constantly, and charles joins in with the affirmations when he returns. the both clean you up when you’re still floating; they put you in an oversized tee, not bothering with undergarments, wiping all wetness and cream away from between your legs trying to avoid looking at your cunt directly, they even manage to get your bonnet on for you, and even have time to change the duvet before you start becoming aware again.
you turn and automatically move to snuggle into the crook of max’s neck, but he gently presses a straw to your mouth so you can hydrate after the amount of fluids you seem to have lost. your eyes open, and you croak out a disapproving hum at not being able to go to sleep, and max shakes his head at you, “drink, schat. non-negotiable, pretty girl.” after slowly draining ¾ of the bottle, you pull away and with a shattered voice, start mumbling, “thank you, thank you, thank you—“
and charles leans over to cut you off with a soft press of lips, “no, thank you for letting us give you that, mon coeur.” you hum, whispering out, “i love you, charlie. i love you, maxy.” 
they both respond with resounding ‘i-love-you’s back, and start soft conversation just checking up on you before they let you fall asleep. 
“i’ve never felt this good before from an orgasm,” you start, “i wanna—i wanna keep being good for you guys. i wanna learn how to feel good like this again, and i want you both to show me how because i trust you. please?”. charles and max both murmur affirmatives to you, and you continue speaking softly, “you guys can take showers now, i’ll probably be asleep before you come back.” after making sure you’re truly comfortable, max and charles head to the en-suite to take the world’s speediest shower so they can cuddle up with you sooner. 
shutting the door, max and charles stare at each other in completely silence. charles starts, “are we sure that we’re the ones corrupting her and she’s not corrupting us? because, i’ve almost came in my pants three times tonight.”
max stares at charles with unseeing eyes, “i will never forgot the way she soaked my fucking leg, charles…i’m pretty sure i did come in my pants.”
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hellfiremunsonn · 20 days
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Something About Her. Steve Harrington x Reader
Something About her.
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I DO NOT ALLOW MY WRITING TO BE REPUBLISHED ANYWHERE OTHER THAN MY OWN BLOG WITHOUT MY CONSENT
Summary: Steve is kind of obsessed with you, and you're kind of obsessed with him. Only ever watching from afar until a fight breaks out at the party you're both at.
18 + IF YOU ARE NOT 18 OR OLDER DO NOT READ OR INTERACT WITH MY WRITING. IT IS NOT INTENDED FOR MINORS. I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR THE MEDIA YOU CONSUME.
Warnings: fem!reader, physical altercation, reader gets backhanded by homophobic male character, brief mention of blood, forehead gets slightly cut, reader has a vagina, sex but not sex? No penetrative sex, fingering, Steve is called a f***** and a queer in a derogatory sense by a homophobic character at the party. (I will star it out anyway just incase any of you are uncomfortable with that) (IF THERES ANYTHING I MISSED LET ME KNOW)
AN: Real quick, I don't condone using homophobic slurs towards anyone ever. This is not ME saying these things, it is a CHARACTER in the 80's saying those things. I myself am Queer so... ya know... I get it. NOT REALLY PROOF READ FOR MISTAKES JUST FOR THE VIBES (Huge thank you to my bby @rowanswriting for giving this a read through for me to make sure it wasn’t absolute garbage! love u <3)
Wordcount: 4k
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Steve doesn't know when his fascination with you started, but he knows that once it did start he couldn't stop it. Anytime he was out at a party he was always looking for you. Subtly over the rim of his red cup, filled with whatever concoction that would get him buzzed the quickest. Personally he doesn't think it's stalking, because he doesn't follow you around any other time, but when he knows you're around, he's going to keep an eye out for you. Robin on the other hand, definitely thinks it's stalking and will make it a point to tease Steve about it whenever she can.
He's only talked to you a couple of times and the two of you wouldn't even consider each other friends but for some reason he always had to have an eye on you, and you always had an eye on him. 
Robin would constantly poke into his side and whispering about his "obsession" with you but he would just push her off and roll his eyes. Because someone as pretty as you would never look at him the same way. You were ethereal; Steve might actually believe it if you were from another world, considering he's had his fair share of experience of things that you'd think didn't exist.
He knows you watch him too. Praying you don't think it's weird for catching your eye one too many times, but being constantly enamoured by the way you move and speak, how you captivate everyone around you yet you're completely unaware of it. 
Robin decides that after watching the two of you eye fuck each other six more times that she's going to help. She skips over to you and you greet her with one of the brightest smiles he's ever seen.  The two of you talking together has four hands flying around with the dramatics of whatever story it is the pair of you have begun discussing and he's honestly surprised neither of you have hit one another in the face.
Steve still, stands with his back plastered against the wall, trying to ignore the dull thumping bass of whatever shitty music was playing, focusing hard on the way your lips moved, trying to get any sense at what you were saying. It takes him a minute to realize it's Robin you're talking to and he's more confused, zoning in on the way your tongue darts out to lick across your strawberry pink lips when he's interrupted from his thoughts by some beefy drunk, boy from high school trying to relive his glory days as he stumbles past him. 
He looks at Steve, looks at robin, and then back to Steve. He snickers "Damn Harrington, can't even get Robin to stick around with you? Maybe you are as queer as she is" he sways as he passes Robin and you. Robin freezes, before slowly looking back to Steve, praying tonight wasn't going to end with Steve beating someone up. Again. 
"Hey" Steves voice is loud, angry, startling almost everyone, despite how loud the music was. 
"Say what you want about me, but don't say shit about Robin alright?" Steve warns.
The drunken asshole makes his attempt to saunter up to Steve, getting far too close to his face before speaking "Or what pretty boy? Gunna get your boyfriend to come save you?" 
Steve can feel the hot air of his breath in his face, it reeks so badly of alcohol it almost smells like hand sanitizer. "Get lost man" Steve says shaking his head turning away from him, trying to distract himself from the prying eyes by above everyones heads, sipping his drink. 
What Steve doesn't notice is how ridged you've become and how hard your fists are shaking where they are clenched at your sides. 
He laughs, thinking he's won whatever show it is he's putting on for everyone and goes to leave before turning back to Steve. "F****t can't fight his own battles, what a pussy"
Before Steve can even fully turn around you've pushed past robin and are standing in front of the drunk, arm pulled back before your tiny fist makes contact with the dudes face. "What's your problem!" You yell.  Steve has never heard your voice so loud before. "You homophobic piece of shit? What decade were you born in saying shit like that?" Your hand hurts, like really bad, but you're too prideful to let him see you cry. No one is going to say shit like that about anyone around you, let alone Robin, or Steve. 
"Fucking bitch" he spits, blood filled saliva hitting the white tiled floor beneath your feet. His hand raises quick, and without a second thought he lands a single smack across your face with the back of his hand, and then walks away. You involuntary gasp at the impact, while the rest of the party goers shout and follow him but you can barely hear over the ringing in your ears, but you hope they beat the shit out of him outside. You feel a drip of blood form and start to slide down your face from where his large class ring made contact with the skin just above your eyebrow. Your hand trembles as it reaches up to touch the warm liquid before bringing your hand down to see your blood covered finger tips. 
When you look up, blurry faces stand around you, and they're all speaking at once, you're unsure where to look, or who to respond to when someone gently takes your hand, pulling you with them upstairs and away from the chaos below. Only when the click of the bathroom door locks do your senses start to come back and you realize you're standing in front of Steve Harrington and that tears had begun rolling down your cheeks.
At the same time you both blurt out "Are you okay?" and Steve laughs in amusement. 
"Am I okay? I'm not the one who sucker punched someone twice her size and is bleeding from her head!" he exclaims. He laughs again before muttering an "Oh shit" Grabbing at the nearest hand towel and running it under the faucet. "Come here, sit" he says patting the countertop. You watch him with wide doe eyes, pupils blown from the adrenaline coursing through you, but still you listen, slowly and a little robotically you lean against the counter, Steves large hand holding the side of your waist to help as you hop up onto the counter. He's talking, but you don't really hear him so instead you focus on watching him as he moves around the bathroom, finding things to help with the tiny wound on your forehead. 
He dabs the damp towel against your forehead quickly and abruptly. You wince and pull back, your two hands coming up to hold his wrist in place. 
"I'm sorry, shit, are you okay? I should have warned you first" 
"I'm sorry that guy said that" you say finally finding your voice, it's shaky and a little croaky but it's there. 
"Don't be, I've heard worse" he smiles and you let go of his wrist signalling to him that he can continue and so he does. "S'not so bad of a cut, just bled a lot cause it's on your head"
You laugh a little, and the relief Steve feels when he hears it skyrockets. "You've got quite the arm on you, more guys like him should be afraid of you"
You laugh again. "I've had some practice" you shrug and sniffle, pretending to play it cool. 
"Oh yeah? You beating up guys in the alleyways behind bars? Lemme see those guns" he pesters, lifting up the arm you used to throw your punch, and you flex it proudly. The muscle bulging and Steve gives it a squeeze. 
He wolf whistles. "Wow-ee that's some A plus muscle right there" he teases but short circuits when you look up at him. Mascara smudged just under your eyes from where the tears overflowed, cheeks rosy with a blush or from the adrenaline, he can't tell but his hand comes up to hold the side of your face anyway and he does everything he can to hold himself together when he feels you lean into his touch. 
"You're so pretty" he blurts, feeling the heat of your cheek under his palm when he says it. 
"So are you" you whisper. You can feel the trembling starting to begin in your bones as the adrenaline wears off, your body finally attempting to come down from the earlier altercation. Steve notices at the first twitch of your shoulder. 
"S-sorry" you stutter through your teeth as they begin to chatter along with the rest of your body. 
"Stop apologizing for things you can't control" he says taking your hands and placing them on the sides of his waist. He doesn't mean for it to be forceful or sexual when he does it, but his one hand comes between your legs and pushes them apart by your knees, positioning himself between them. "Here, hug me, it'll help with the shakes" He pulls you into him and you're thankful for the tightness of his arms around around you. You sigh into him, feeling the slightest bit of tension leave your shoulders. Steve notices and slides one hand to the back of your neck, pushing in just slightly at the base, massaging it until he feels your shoulders start to slump.
The groan that leaves you was almost pornographic, and Steve has to calm himself down immediately or you might be able to feel how much that little noise had affected him. Steve tried really hard, he did, but he's standing between your legs and you're so close to him that he knows if he shifted just a little you'd feel his dick press into your stomach. 
When the shaking starts to stop you lean back from him, head tilted up towards him but your eyes stay closed. Your hands still stationed on his hips, and Steve doesn't stop his fingers where they massage the base of your neck. 
"That feels really good" you sigh, eyes flitting open lazily. 
"Good" Steve says with a smile, his opposite hand coming up to push your hair back behind your ear. He watches as your eyebrows furrow slightly. 
"What's wrong?"
"N-nothing" you lie. It's the adrenaline. It's like when you come down from a really big cry, and your body doesn't know what to do with all the feelings so it sends them between your legs, making everything in you ache for someone to touch you, for Steve to touch you. You shift on the counter, legs instinctively trying to close, the rough fabric of his jeans rubbing against the insides of your thighs, teasing you. 
Steve can feel your heartbeat pick up from where his fingers are still pressed against your skin, and he's watching you with curious eyes. He can sense it, he knows, but he wont make a move unless you initiate it, anything, even if it's subtle. But you have to be the one to start it. With one too many run in's with the end of the world, Steve knows that sometimes when the adrenaline wears off the only thing you want to do is fuck.
"Is it your head?" He asks "Does it hurt?"
"It's not my head" you say as you shake it. "It hurts a little b-but I'm okay, really"
Steve hums, his pressing touch moving from your neck and you have to stop yourself from whimpering at the loss. 
"Look at me" he says and you do, eyes darting back and forth between his. "I just wanna make sure you don't have a concussion" he widens his stance, sliding his feet outwards until he's just about your height from where you sit, his big warm hands come up and cup either sides of your face while he assess you.
A loud crash followed by laughter startles the two of you jump slightly. Your hands grip onto Steves waist harder and he's moved forward so now the two of you are pressed together, and he can see it in your face when his stubbornly hard dick makes contact with you.
"Steve?" you say quietly, and he's already preparing an apology in his head. "Um I know we don't really know each other" You swallow thickly. "But um" you trail off, glancing to your hands and where they rest, thumbs slipping past the hem of his shirt, touching the warm skin of his belly. He inhales sharply, and you look at him mesmerized. 
"Are you sure you're not concussed?" he questions "Or did that guy really hit me instead and I'm unconscious having a wonderful dream right now?"
You giggle and his cock strains in his jeans. 
"I don't wanna have sex with you though" you say quickly. "I mean now, right now, I definitely want to have sex with you, I just, not in a bathroom at a party? I wanted to- shit" You scrunch your eyes closed and take a breath before looking back at him. "I wanted to ask you on a date first"
"You wanted to ask me? Me on a date?" Steve says quietly. 
You nod, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth. So shy, yet so brave.
'I'm fucked' He thinks. 'I'm going to fall in love with her'
"C-can, we um, can we touch each other? Is that okay?" your hands hold him a little tighter and his stomach tenses. 
"Y-yeah, please, can I kiss you?" he asks desperately and you nod, your hands finally reaching up to cup his face. He grabs you by the hips and slides you closer to the edge of the counter, your old converse hitched on the sides of his waist, pressed against his brown leather belt. Your crotch now pressed against his jean covered cock, and he realizes you've been wearing a dress the entire time he's been stood between your legs, and only now has caught a glance at the pretty pink panties you wear. 
You whimper when he kisses you. His lips soft and plump just like you had thought they would be, and the tiny groan he lets out goes straight to your cunt and your hips jump ever so slightly. You kiss each other feverishly, sloppy and quick. Every kiss, every smack of your lips, every move of his tongue has your stomach flipping and your hips rolling into him. He's grinding into you without a single care, he could cum like this and wouldn't dare be embarrassed about it when you look like that under him. How could he not. 
He does almost bust his load immediately when your hands go for his belt, quickly unbuckling it and tugging at the button and zipper until it's all the way down. He breaks the kiss to watch you do it. 
"Is this okay?" you ask, fingers dipped into the waistband of his boxers.
"You could do anything you want with me right now and I wouldn't care" He jokes. "So yes this is more than okay"
"Can you touch me too?" You ask with your baby Bambi eyes and god Steve nearly loses it. How can you ask him something so dirty but make it sound so sickly sweet. 
"God, yeah, of course I can sweet thing" he says sliding his hands up your thighs until he's under the hem of your red dress, it's covered in dainty little white flowers, and he thinks it looks perfect on you. He searches for the band of your panties before tugging at them until you shift, letting him slide them out from under you until they're dangling off your right ankle that is still stationed on his hip. 
His fingers slide easily through your slick and he groans. "Fucking christ"
You giggle again, sighing when he grazes your clit and your knees instinctively try to lock together.
"It's taking everything in me not to bury my face in your cunt right now Jesus Christ, look at her" he praises, watching his shiny fingers and the way they move against you, the way your hips twitch to meet them. 
"Her?" you ask.
"Your pussy babe" he says obviously.
Your entire body engulfs in heat, and you can't tell if you're embarrassed that he's talking about your pussy like it's a person, or if it's turning you on even more. 
"O-Oh my god" you say, your words slipping into a moan mixed with a gasp. Head tilting back until it hits the mirror behind you. 
"Jesus baby, let's keep your head intact alright?" he jokes, pulling you into him with one hand, placing it protectively on the back of your head as you bury your face into the crook of his neck while his finger traces your entrance. Your brain buzzes with electricity and you forget that just seconds before you were tugging at Steves jeans, but then he touched you. 
He circles your hole a few times, before easily sliding one of his fingers into you. You whine, open mouth, almost drooling where your mouth hovers against Steves skin. He leans back slightly, chin touching his chest to catch a glimpse at you to make sure the noise he heard come out of you wasn't a sob. But the thought of you crying because of his fingers? He can't imagine what it would be like to have you and your pussy crying on his cock.
"Feel good?" He teases. 
"So good" You moan, lifting your head from his neck, staring down to watch his finger curl into you. Forcing yourself to look away to continue your attention to his jeans. Hands shaky has they slip his belt through the loops, pulling at the button of his jeans and tugging the zipper down. You try your best to push his pants down enough to get your hand in so you can finally feel his cock but he's distracting. 
"F-fuck" you mewl, and it's high pitch and girly, and if you were alone you'd cringe at the sound. 
"Need some help?" Steve offers, stopping his movements and slowly removing his fingers from you, shiny and slick as he helps you to free his aching cock. 
"Thank you" you whisper. Once his cock is free you wrap your hand around him, thick, hot and heavy in your palm and he groans, tilting his head back a little before reaching a hand up to tap your cheek, ripping your gaze away from your hand to his eyes. 
"Open" hes looking down at you through his lashes, cheeks flushed a perfect pink and his chest moves quickly while you continue to jerk him off. You listen, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out and Steve huffs out a laugh as he slowly slides his two fingers into your mouth. The ones that were just buried in your cunt. You lap at them greedily, body buzzing from the approval when Steves hums in delight, head tiling to watch your mouth. 
You pull his fingers from your mouth with gasp. "I have an idea"
Steve raises a brow as you push forward until you slide off of the counter, turning around so your ass is how facing him, both of you looking at each other through the reflection of the mirror. Watching you as you lean your hips against the counter, pulling him towards you by his belt until he's almost touching you. Reaching behind you, you take his cock into your hand, stepping onto your tippy toes until its slid between your thighs, pressed against your leaking pussy. 
"Fucking without fucking" you say with a smile. Your hand presses lightly against him so the tip of his cock stays connected to you while Steve moves his hips. 
Sliding through your folds over and over as he mimics how he'd snap his hips against you if he were able to fuck you properly. It's probably the hottest things Steve has ever done with anyone, and he knows that he will think about this every single day until the day he dies, and he's absolutely content with that. 
His hands move to your hips, where he grips you tightly. Your dress sliding up with each thrust until the swell of your ass is exposed before him. Rippling with each thrust against his lower half, and he tries to stop himself, he does, but he can't. He lets his palm come down on your right cheek, a little harsh, and goes to apologize but the way your knees shake, and the moan that slips out from you tells him you liked it. 
"M'so c-close Steve" you force out. Your cheek is pressed against the cold marble top of the counter, and you're pretty sure you're drooling onto it but you couldn't care less with how good Steve is making you feel. "Steve I-" You can barely keep your legs up, but your trying. 
"Help" you whimper, and Steve knows what you need immediately. Wrapping a large arm around your waist, holding up most of your weight while still snapping his hips. 
"I got ya pretty girl" he mumbles into the skin of your shoulder. 
"Are you gunna cum Stevie?" You moan, silently begging he's as close as you are. 
"So close" he grunts. "Wanna see that face of yours when you cum, can you do that for me?" He asks sliding his hand into your hair until he's got a tight grip on the roots, tugging gently to instruct you to lift your head up. He doesn't want to be too rough with you just yet, not when you haven't properly been able to have that conversation. 
Lifting your head with his direction until you're forced to look at yourself and Steve in the mirror. He looks so pretty, face flushed, mouth slightly agape, his bottom lip slick with saliva. You could cry at how pretty he was. 
"Steve, Steve, st-eve, I'm gun-NAH!" you cum hard, all over your hand and his cock. Thighs trembling. 
"Fuck you're so hot" Steve mutters. "Gunna cum sweetheart where do-"
"On me, please I want it on me" You say almost frantically. Steve turns your around, helping you sit back up onto the counter so your legs are spread and he's stationed between them. Pumping his cock fast, the noise crude as it echos around the bathroom, slick with your arousal. 
"Fuck, fuck baby" Steve says through gritted teeth.
And you're smiling, and nodding, eyes glassed over and so fucked out, and he thinks he might marry you seeing the way you want him, and his cum so badly. He loses it when your hand joins his around him with those final few pumps, and his cum shoots across your stomach dripping down your connected hands to the base of his cock. 
He's panting and smiling, and trying to hold back a laugh, watching the way his cum drips down your body, down between the crease where your thigh meets hip, lazily flowing down to join the mess between your legs. 
You giggle, bottom lip tucked between your teeth as you wait till Steve finally looks up at you. 
"You're insane" he laughs, grabbing your face with both hands and kisses you quick. 
"Only a little" you say between kisses. "Take me home?" you ask bravely. 
"Anywhere" Steve says quickly. he tugs his jeans back up, stuffing himself back into his pants, and adjusts his belt. You hop down from the counter and attempt to fix your hair so it looks a little better. Kicking one foot up behind you, you tug your panties off your ankle and turn to face Steve, shoving them into the front pocket of his jeans. Steve swoons at the sly look in your eyes, and the way you didn't even attempt to clean his cum off of you when the two of you turn to leave the quiet confines of the bathroom.
You giggle again when he interlocks his fingers with yours, letting him pull you along through the sea of people and out onto the front lawn down the street and only a few blocks away until you reached Steves house. 
"Yeah"  Steve thought. "I'm gunna marry her"
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thanks for reading! <3
505 notes · View notes
itsbeeble · 5 months
Text
NO BITCHES?
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SUMMARY: When you met Eric, you’d thought he was just another frat boy, looking to get into any woman’s pants (particularly yours at that moment). You never would’ve thought that he was just a loser who really liked FNAF and just thought you were pretty.
GENRE: smut, fluff, crack, mild angst
PAIRING: Eric Sohn x afab!reader (ft hak, sunwoo, sunwoo's gf, and sangyeon)
WC: 10.5k (there go my plans of proving Ally wrong)
SERIES MASTERLIST
PERM TAGLIST: @juyeonszn @winterchimez
18+ MDNI AGLESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED
WARNINGS: um... okay so virgin!eric, kinda dom!reader, eric's a fucking loser, reader kinda makes fun of him at first for being a virgin, reader kinda teaches eric about everything from kissing to uh...yeah, dry humping, kissing, making out, oral (m and f receiving), eric cums in his pants, eric plays fnaf, um...public making out? public fingering?, multiple orgasms, eric goes from little virgin boy to I TOLD YOU WE NEEDED MORE GLITTER real fast, sunwoo slander, sunwoo's annoying in this idk, eric's a dumb gamer boy who needs desperate help from the boy who concussed his gf (cough sunwoo), slight bit of miscommunication?, eric cries (ummmm dacryphilia?), reader also cries (again...dacryphilia?), edging el oh el, sunwoo and. reader know the importance of CONSENT, i think that's all the important stuff
A/N: I'm never gonna beat the allegations... ally will always think i bias eric. Anyway, happy birthday to my little munchkin princess eric sohn 🥰🥰
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Eric was practically shaking as he approached you. Scratch that, he was definitely shaking but he could blame the ripples covering the drinks in his hand on the pumping base. It thrummed in his veins, or maybe that was his pulse steadily increasing when he locked eyes with you.
You. His gorgeous, intelligent, perfect…
Lab partner. You were his lab partner and at that very moment, nothing more. At least, not in your eyes. Eric, though? He was enamored by you. The way you laugh, the teasing grin when he does something wrong and you scold him, the way your body looks in that dress—
“Hi.” You look away from your friends and face him, a curious look on your face. He’s starting to feel warm. Was it warm in here? He thinks he’s starting to sweat, and can feel something drip down the back of his neck.
“Hi…?” Your hands are empty, and Eric forces himself not to jump up and down with glee that he doesn’t have to make the excuse of having two drinks for himself. 
“I’m— Do you—” He stutters, and heat begins to spread from his neck to his cheeks as your friends giggle. You just smile. A kind smile that has his body slowly relaxing the more he looks at your face. “Do you wanna drink— I mean— fuck, I meant do you want a drink. Not— not do you wanna drink— I mean that could—  that is also a question, but—”
More laughter from your friends and Eric suddenly thinks he’s gonna throw up all over you, your dress, and his nice white button-up shirt that he’d forced Sangyeon to iron for him. 
“Thank you, Eric.” You say, reaching for the cup in his left hand. Your fingers brush against his, and his knees begin to wobble visibly. Your smile disappears into a concerned frown, and suddenly Eric’s attention is on your lips. He isn’t paying attention to his surroundings anymore. Can’t find himself caring that your friends are still laughing at the scenario, nor that you shoo them away. 
“Eric?” Your hand waves in front of his face, effectively catching the boy’s attention. “Are you okay?”  
“Yeah!” Eric says it far too quickly, knowing immediately that you don’t believe him. Fortunately, one of his many charms is that he’s very good at lying to people. “I’m perfectly fine. Why do you ask?” 
You giggle, and it’s the sweetest sound that he’s ever heard.
“You just— you seem a little uncomfortable right now.” You lean close to him, scanning his face under the flashing lights. You can hardly make out his features under the colors. Blue, purple, red, white, green, yellow. All the colors under the rainbow covered his face and changed every few seconds. When they flashed white, you swear you can see a flush in his cheeks. 
“Why would I be uncomfortable?” He leans toward you with a sudden surge of confidence that has your heart pounded a bit. “Why would I ever be uncomfortable around the most beautiful girl in the building?”
And there it is, folks, you think. Your eye twitches, something so subtle that Eric fails to catch it. The irritation, the disappointment. 
“Ah, I see.” You grimace, and Eric begins to panic again. 
“What— did I upset you?” He asks, and you roll your eyes. 
“Eric, if you wanna get into my pants you’re gonna have to try better than that.” 
Eric’s heart drops to the floor, his face flushing even more as he begins to panic. He stutters, he tries to backtrack, he tries to explain himself. You, however, are hearing none of it. Not a single word that comes out of his mouth reaches your ears. 
“Stop, Eric.” You snap and his mouth snaps shut. “Just…Just stop.” 
You set the cup he’d given you down on the table, and he stares at it dumbly while you storm away to find your friends again. The amber liquid in the cup sloshes with the base echoing around it and the loud noise of partygoers around him. 
He watches it spill over the lip of the cup, and then sets his own cup down next to it, turning around to return to the party but the weight of crushing rejection sits uncomfortably on his chest. 
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It’s two days later when you see Eric again. Monday morning, an 8AM Physics lecture that no one wants to be in. Two weeks into the semester, and almost twenty people had already dropped the class. He walks in with a black hat covering his head, and a white tee shirt covering his torso. It’s certainly not clothing suitable for the cold air of early February, but he’d been unable to do his laundry over the weekend due to the parties on Friday and Saturday and the neverending clean-up that occurred on Sunday. 
He spots you, tucked well into the second row, and his eyes light up. Yours, on the other hand, narrow. You keep your gaze on him while he makes his way up to you as quickly as possible, hoping to have a chance to talk to you before the lecture begins. 
“Hey,” he grins at you, gently setting his bag on the chair to his left and turning to face you. Your eyes are still narrowed with suspicion. “How was your weekend?” 
How was your weekend? It’s as if the both of you hated that question; one of you cringing with something close to disgust, the other with something like horror. Is he stupid?
“It was fine,” you tell him curtly. Eric frowns, leaning back in his chair when you turn your gaze to the front. 
“Did I do something wrong?” He blurts out, and your shoulders sag. Was that the wrong thing to ask? Did he do something wrong?
“Did you seriously just ask me that?” You hiss out, glancing at him from the corner of your eye. He opens his mouth to speak, but he has a hard time finding the words. What is he even supposed to say? What if you think he’s an asshole for not knowing what was wrong? What if you never smile at him again?
“I— honestly I really don’t know!” You scoff and Eric sits up, leaning forward on the table to get a better view of your face. You can see the pout, see the way his eyebrows knit together in what you can only assume is faux confusion. There’s no way he doesn’t know what he did.
“You’re unbelievable, you know that?” You look at him fully now and watch the way his body recoils from the words. Hurt, confusion. No anger. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Eric Sohn angry in the two years you’d shared classes with him. 
“What— what did I even do?” The professor walks in, and he hushes his voice. “I can’t fix things if I don’t know what I did wrong!”
“That’s your own damn fault then, isn’t it?” You click your pen, and Eric shuts up. You almost feel bad, carefully watching as he takes out his own notebook to begin taking notes. He doesn’t say anything for the rest of the lecture, and you feel a pang of regret in your chest. Maybe he really doesn’t know what he did wrong, you think, nibbling on your lip in thought. No, there’s no way he doesn’t know. He’s the smartest guy in the room, no way does he not know what— 
You glance at Eric again, this time turning your head to fully look at him. His blond hair falls over his eyes, even with the hat covering his head. His shoulders are hunched, his hand moving so quickly over the lined paper so that he can at least try to keep up with your professor. For a moment, you think about Eric Sohn. About the frat boy who had been nothing but kind to you since the day you met. About the boy who once gave you notes far more detailed than you’d ever written during the week you were sick. About the boy who—
No, you shake your head and begin to write down more equations you know you’re going to have to ask Eric about later. He’s a frat boy. All he wants is a good fuck and then he’s gone. 
But why did he seem so hurt when you spoke to him so rudely? When you turned him away not once, but twice within the past three days. 
You liked him, you really did! He was kind, thoughtful, and he was always helping anyone he could. He never refused to help anyone, even if it was a subject that he didn’t know that well. Had you gotten it wrong? Was he just trying to talk to you and you had responded—
Your pen clicks again as you give up on the notes, and you lean back in your chair to squint at the whiteboard in front of you. 
Talking with Eric Sohn was inevitable, but it was only a matter of how long you could avoid the topic—
“I want all of you to pair up. These will be your partners for the midterm project.”
Eric’s gaze turns to you uneasily, tilting his head in question. You bite down hard on your tongue, fighting every urge inside of you to turn around and ask the girl behind you to be partners. 
Fuck, how could you say no to those eyes?
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Your room is brighter than Eric thought it would be. When you originally invited him over to study that night, he had been terrified. Was your apartment going to be almost falling apart? What if it was really nice and he broke something? What if you killed him and stuffed him into a dumpster?
Fortunately, none of those things were necessarily true. Your building wasn’t falling apart, thankfully, although it was arguably nicer than any other off-campus apartments and you could still choose to kill him. 
It was nice, though. It was a two-bedroom apartment that you shared with your friend Eunseung, one full bathroom and another half-bathroom, a decent kitchen, and a nice-sized living space. According to what you told him in the last semester, the rent wasn’t too awful either. 
The walls of your bedroom were yellow, but not an ugly shade of yellow. It was pastel, not quite bright enough to be harsh on the eyes but not dark enough to make it hard to see. You’d lined bookshelves up to the wall, most filled with books but some with photos and plants and music albums. You had a small desk in the corner, and your bed was aligned with the center of the back wall, a light green comforter covering white sheets. 
“I’m surprised we’ve never studied here.” You hum, but your tone is distant. Eric laughs dryly and sets his bag down on the ground next to your bedframe. 
“You prefer the library,” he points out. “The lighting is easier for your eyes.” 
For a moment, you pause in your motions. How did he—
“How did you know that?” You ask, turning to face him. You can see the flush in your partner’s cheeks, and he ducks his head so that the baseball cap on his head covers his eyes. 
“I just— you would always squint when we studied at the library or— or at the TBZ house. I just…I figured that was the reason.” I pay attention. That’s what you knew he meant. 
Why does a boy who only wants to get into your pants care so much about you?
“Oh.” You dig your laptop out of your bag and take a seat on your bed, leaning against your pillows with your legs straight out in front of you. Eric joins you, sitting crosslegged at the other end of the bed. He’s careful not to get too close, shifting away from you when you adjust your position. Your skirt flares out to the side, ruffled by the blanket and exposing your thighs a bit more. Eric has to force his eyes to remain on his laptop. You notice, but there’s no anger with it. You choose to not even acknowledge it. 
“So what do we wanna do for our project?” His eyes flick over to you, and you shrug. 
“We could build something?” You suggest. “Maybe, like, a paper airplane launcher?” 
He hums, tilting his head back and wrinkling his nose in thought. 
“What about something with electromagnetism?” You nod slowly. 
“That could be good. We could keep with the idea of building something and make an electric motor with things people have lying around their houses?” 
Eric grins at you. “Now we’re thinking. We’ll have this done in no time at all.”
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Eric was right. 
The brainstorming and research portion of the project had been completed within a few hours, and the two of you had cast your laptops to the side to search your apartment for things to use. Paper clips, some sort of copper wire (you had no idea why anyone would have a copper wire hanging around their house. Eric, however, said that there were several around the frat house), wood, some batteries. Anything that the two of you could use. The only thing neither of you had was a staple gun.
“It’s getting late,” Eric notes with a quick glance toward your living room window. You hum in response, lying back on your couch with your phone in your hand. “I should get going soon.”
Your eyes flick to him, but he isn’t looking at you. “Do you wanna stay the night?” 
Silence. A long moment of silence, and then Eric looks at you with a look nearing scandalized. 
“What?” You sit up, draping your arms over the back of your couch and getting a better look at him. 
“You heard me.” His face is bright red, similar to the night of the party. 
“Why would— why would I want— I mean th— thank you for the offer but— but I can’t stay the night. Why would— where would I even sleep? I don’t have clothes to sleep in!” He throws every excuse he could possibly think of at you, adding to your amusement. He had no clothes, where would he sleep, you had classes earlier in the morning than him, it would be weird if he stayed the night. It was cute. 
You’ll admit it, Eric was cute. The puppy-like look in his eyes, the pout on his lips. Everything about him was cute. It almost shocked you how fast you were able to get over the anger that he only wanted to sleep with you. In fact, you weren’t sure that’s what he even wanted from you. Only one way to find out, right?
“Eric,” you finally cut off his rambling and his voice stops, leaving your apartment oddly quiet. “Come here.” 
He listens, slowly slinking toward you. Eric is nervous, you can tell. Every step he takes, every twitch when you shift your body. It fills you with pride, or maybe some other emotion. 
Eric stops when he’s right in front of you, just a few steps from the back of the couch and both of you (really just him) are all too aware of how his crotch is level with your mouth. 
“I wanna tell you something,” you beckon him toward you with one finger and he slowly, albeit a bit awkwardly as well, bends down so that his face is just above yours. Heat radiates off his face, so hot that you may start sweating soon. “Do you wanna know a secret?”
His Adam’s apple bobs, his hands gripping the couch for dear life, short nails digging into the cheap fabric. 
“Sure.” Eric’s voice is hoarse, and it makes you smile. 
“I kinda like you, Eric.” 
Your lips press gently against his. Entirely experimental, just enough to see what he would do. His body seizes up, his breath hitching in his throat. He doesn’t move against you, doesn’t tilt his head or part his lips. He sits there like the lead in a lame drama where the main characters seem like they couldn’t be less into each other. You begin to pull away from him, fearing you’d made him a bit uncomfortable, but a whine is pulled from his throat when your lips part from his. 
You look at him, but he’s already looking at you with wide, bulging eyes. 
“Eric…” You have a sneaking suspicion that you know why he didn’t kiss you. “Have you…has no one ever kissed you before?”
“What?” The boy’s voice is shrill, and you know the answer. “Of— of course, I’ve been kissed? What kind of question is that?” 
Your lips quirk up. “Are you sure? It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, you know.”
“What— why would I be embarrassed?” His frustration and denial are cute. Adorable, really. 
“Because you’re a sophomore in college and have been kissed once— by your physics partner, no less.” You smirk playfully and then gasp, pushing up and toward him suddenly. He reels back, nearly falling backward with the suddenness of the motion. “Eric Sohn! Are you a virgin?”
Eric looks like he’s about to cry from embarrassment, and he turns away from you completely. You grimace briefly and climb off the couch to come around and stand in front of him. He avoids your gaze by looking above you, around you, at the floor and the walls. 
“Eric,” your voice is gentle now. He doesn’t move, nor does he make any noise. He’s like a deer in headlights. “Eric, can you look at me.”
“No,” he denies, crossing his arms over his chest. You feel a bubble of amusement rising in your stomach. “You’re just gonna make fun of me.”
“I’m not gonna make fun of you.” You promise, your hand grazing his forearm. Eric’s eyes lock with yours, and for once you choose to hold his gaze. “Now, can you tell me the truth so I can help you?” 
“Help me,” he echoes with an air of offense. “I don’t need help!”
“Eric, you’re a sophomore in college who’s in the most popular frat on the campus. Add onto that your personality and your good looks, you should be getting bitches left and right.” You say pointedly and the tips of his ears flush red. Or, rather, as red as they can when his whole face is burning up from your prior insinuations. 
“What if I’m just waiting for marriage?” He counters. “Or— or the right person?” Your lips draw into a thin line, knowing that statement was bullshit. 
“We both know you wouldn’t be hard as a rock right now if that was the case.”
Eric’s heart plummets to the ground, his eyes following it to check for himself. To his complete and utter dismay, you weren’t lying. Pressing against the front of his cargo pants was the solid outline of his member, straining against the seam and begging to be released. 
“I— I am so— so sorry,” he stammers, his hands yanking the edge of his sweatshirt down to cover himself, his hands remaining carefully placed over his crotch but he knows it’s too late. “I didn’t— I don’t— oh my god I’m so sorry, Y/N.”
“It’s fine,” you reassure him, holding tightly onto his sleeve so he can’t run for the door. “I knew you wanted to sleep with me, it was kind of obvious.”
“No I— I don’t want—” Eric frantically shakes his head. “I don’t— I can’t— I don’t wanna sleep with you— I mean I do, I really really do, but not— not like this—”
The hand on his sleeve comes up to grab his cheeks, squeezing them together until his lips are pushed out and he can’t speak anymore. 
“You can admit it, Eric.” You hum, and with your hand still on his face, you begin to walk him back and around to the side of the couch. He yelps when you push him back, letting go of his face and watching him fall over the arm and land with an oof on the cushions. “You can admit that you wanted to fuck me from the moment you saw me.”
“But I—” He choked on spit before he could finish talking, eyes widening into saucers when you climbed onto the couch, crawling up to sit on his lap. He’s sitting up straight now, but the risk of falling back again is high with nothing to support his spine. Your hands just rest on his shoulders, not digging in or moving to grasp anything else. They stay there, waiting for him to make the first move. 
“Tell me if you don’t want me to continue, Eric.” His hands are trembling, his pulse higher than it’s ever been. He slowly rotates his body, placing his feet firmly on the ground and resting his spine against the back of the couch so that he doesn’t hurt either of you. 
“I want—” his voice cracks. 
“What do you want?” Your lips are on his neck, featherlight kisses being left in your wake and knocking the breath out of him. He’d never felt like this, he’d never been touched like this save for his own hand in the darkness of his room with an animated video on loop on his laptop screen. At his lack of response, you pull your lips back from his neck. Eric lets out a loud whine at this, his left hand coming to the back of your head to lightly try and push you back into him. 
“Keep doing that,” he gasps out, and you smile. 
“Don’t you want me to kiss you?” You ask him, and another whine tumbles from his lips.
“I— fuck, I do— god, why are you doing this to me?”
“I just wanna know what you want, Eric,” you’re teasing him and you know it, but you’re pretty sure Eric might fall to pieces if you don’t give him something soon. “Can’t you tell me what you want?” 
“Just—” he leans his head back, and you watch the rapid bobbing of his throat as he tries to swallow and take in air and do anything to calm himself down. “Just do something.”
“What’s the magic word?” He raises his head, gasping when he finds your lips suddenly inches from his own. 
“Ple— please?” Your lips quirk up.
“Actually, it was—”
You don’t get the chance to tease him anymore. He crushes your lips together with so much force that it almost hurts. There’s nothing coherent about the way he kisses you, although you could hardly call it a kiss at all. It was more him putting his mouth against yours, tilting his head, and squeezing his eyes shut. It’s clear from the moment it started that he’s never been kissed before and that knowledge has you squirming in his lap. 
“Eric,” you’ve barely pulled back and he’s chasing your lips as if you’re a glass of his favorite wine. “Eric, hold on.”
“Why?” His eyes flutter open and you have to force yourself not to kiss him senseless, even if he has no idea what he’s doing.
“Just—” You inhale deeply and the scent of his cologne begins to overwhelm your senses, practically intoxicating you. “You’ve never kissed anyone before.” 
He nods, his previous embarrassment returning when you say that. “I mean…Yeah, I— I haven’t. But I—I’ve used WikiHow—”
“It’s okay,” you cut him off and choose to ignore the comment about WikiHow, pressing a light kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Just follow my lead.” 
When he nods, you press your lips against his again. This time, it’s more fluid. It’s easier for you to kiss him when he’s copying your movements. It’s still awkward, your teeth smacking together painfully, but you can tell he’s getting used to the feeling. You’re able to part your lips against his, to open your mouth just enough for your tongue to slip out and brush against his lower lip. His whole body jolts, his hands digging into the fabric of your skirt hard enough that your skin would be bruised the next day. His hips roll up against yours, drawing a heady moan out of you. 
When Eric parts from you, his eyes are hazy. “Did— did you like when I did that?” 
“Yes,” you groan and begin to roll your hips down into his, watching the way his eyes roll into the back of his head and his back arches off the couch. 
“F-Fuck, okay,” He screws his eyes shut again, lips completely parted as the two of you begin to hump into each other like some damn animals. Your lips meld together again, and you let your tongue slither into his mouth. It’s obvious that Eric has no idea what to do with his tongue— pushing against yours aggressively, shoving it to the side, and trying to push his into your mouth— but as the minutes pass, he begins to understand what to do. He begins to understand what makes your body react positively and what has you unintentionally cringing away from him. 
Your lips part from his one more time but you hardly give him time to complain before you place a kiss on his cheek, then the corner of his jaw, and then right below his ear. He emits a nearly wild moan at this, his hips jerking up into yours in such a way that his bulge presses against your clit and punches a moan out of you. Being the quick learner that he is, Eric adjusts his position and rolls his hips up again and again and again, addicted to the way you sound and feel against him. 
“Eric,” you whine, parting from his neck. “Eric, oh my god.” 
He just huffs into your collarbone, licking and sucking and trying desperately to not cum too soon, but you just feel so good against him that he just can’t help it. 
His hips stutter against yours, and he moans so loud you fear that the neighbors hear it. You let him continue to grind into you, to work himself through his orgasm as your slips back and escapes you. It doesn’t matter, you’d get yourself when he leaves—
“You didn’t cum.” 
“What?” You blink dumbly at him, and Eric begins to pout. 
“You didn’t— you didn’t cum. You should’ve told me. I would’ve held off!” You knew that wasn’t true. He could barely hold himself together from a few kisses, what made him think he’d be able to hold himself off until you came? 
“It’s fine, Eric.” You reassure him, but he’s having none of it. You can’t stop him from lifting you off his hips and settling you against the couch cushions. Well…you probably could, but you wanted to see where this went. 
You watch as he unceremoniously yanks down your panties, not bothering with your skirt whether out of impatience or because he liked seeing you in it. 
“Do you even know what you’re doing?” Eric peers up at you, a boyish smile on his face. 
“Can’t be that hard, right?” You laugh, choosing not to argue with him. You’d tell him, when it came time, where your clit is but for now? You’d let him work things out for himself. 
Your body shudders when Eric takes his first taste, licking from the bottom to the top of your pussy. You’re amazed that he didn’t accidentally go too far down like most (slightly more experienced) men have. It’s almost impressive how much attention he pays to your quivering body, and you flip your skirt up so you can see his face buried into you. Every lick draws out a moan from both of you, and you can see him starting to roll his hips down onto the couch. 
“Fuck,” his words are muffled by your cunt, and vile slurping noises accompany him. “Could get addicted to the taste of you.”
“Mm, feels good, Eric.” Your eyes flutter shut, one of your hands slipping down to tangle in his blonde strands of hair and tugging him up slightly. Your other hand taps at your clit lightly, making your body jolt a bit. “Here. This— fuck— feels good here.”
“That’s it?” He drops his head down again, swatting your hand out of the way to replace it with his own. His touch is much rougher than yours, his hands thick and calloused compared to your delicate ones. “Right here?” 
You whine for him, and he has to bite on his tongue to not cum again so fast. He’s quick to attach his mouth to your clit, sucking violently and swiping his tongue against it. If you weren’t impressed by him before, you most certainly were now. It hadn’t taken him long at all to figure out what felt good for you. Reading your mind and body was almost second nature to him, it seemed, and it became abundantly clear when your orgasm began to rise again.
“Close, Eric!” You gasped out, “I’m close!”
He groans against you, catching your hips in his hands when they begin to roll into his face. Eric wanted to drown in you. He wanted to feel you shake around him for the rest of his damn life. He wanted to hear you screaming his name until your throat was raw and your voice was gone. 
And the sight of you cumming on his face, your essence soaking his chin and dripping onto his sweatshirt? 
If he could stay glued to you for the rest of his life, he fucking would.
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Becoming a habit came easy for you and Eric. You’re not dating, but you’re unsure of whether the puppy-like boy cares or not. You discovered very quickly that he would do anything for you, would learn anything for you. You’d successfully taught him how to kiss a girl without looking like a dumbass (i.e. the straight-face-to-sudden-kiss scenario you’d faced too many times to count), how to finger you and hit all the right spots, where not to put his mouth and fingers unless explicitly told otherwise. There was, of course, your next problem.
Eric refused to put his dick in you.
You knew he was clean, both of you had gotten tested when you originally began screwing around. You knew he liked you, that much was obvious. He looked at you as if you hung the stars in the sky, he told you how much he loved you every time you gave him head. He just…never went farther than that. Was he scared? Did he not want you as bad as you (very clearly) wanted him? It made you nauseous to think about, but it was getting frustrating how all you two did was make out, grind on each other like teenagers, and give each other head every time you saw each other. Shit— he was even fine with fingering you underneath the table in your lecture the other day! 
That’s why you developed a plan. Here you were, standing outside of the Tau Beta Zeta frat house under the guise of needing to work on your project (which wasn’t necessarily a lie) but really planning on getting him to finally fuck you. Yes, you were aware of the fact that he was a virgin but it was obvious from the start that he didn’t give a shit about that.
Unless he did. Your hand pauses just inches from the door, but you shake your head to clear the anxious thought and you knock on the door. 
One, two, three…one, two three…one—
On the third round of knocks, a boy swings the door open. His eyes are wide, his hair in disarray. 
“Hi.” You wave your hand with a smile, but the boy just stands there with a dumb look on his face. Were all the TBZ boys like this? 
“…Hi?” He says it in the form of a question, which draws a laugh out of you. 
“I’m Y/N.”
“…Sunwoo…” 
“Oh, the star soccer player, right?” He nods and you grin. “I saw your last game, the one where your girlfriend— I’m assuming girlfriend— knocked some sense into you. You really killed it out there!”
“Thank you…uh…can— can I help you?” You rock back and forth on your heels, biting at your lip in thought. The idea of wearing a skirt is choosing to bite you in the ass as a cold breeze picks up. 
“I’m here for Eric, actually. Um…Eric Sohn? I think he lives here, right?” Sunwoo’s jaw drops, his head dipping down as well and he steps to the side to let you in. You smile, using your feet to pull your shoes off as you step into the entryway. You see a pile of shoes to your left, the larger men’s pairs shoved into a large pile while some smaller women’s shoes sit neatly. You can’t help but wonder if it was the girlfriends that did this or if one of the frat members cares a bit more about them than the others. 
“He’s…he’s on the second floor, third door on the left…” You thank Sunwoo, ignoring how he follows you with obvious confusion and awe. Another boy passes by you, staring in confusion but ends up in the same state as the soccer player when he explains the situation. 
You knock before you enter Eric’s room, rocking on your heels again as you wait for some sort of response. You get none, and when you go to interrupt him, the second boy stops you. 
“Hi, um, I’m Haknyeon— you can call me Hak, though— Eric’s— he’s— he’s gaming. You can just go in because there’s no way you’re gonna get his attention by— by, um— yeah.” He stumbles over his words in an almost incomprehensible way, but you get the basic idea. 
“Thanks, Hak,” you dip your head and twist the doorknob. Sunwoo and Hak both watch you enter the room, only snapping out of their daze when you shut the door tightly behind you. 
“You…you saw that too, right?” Haknyeon grabs Sunwoo by the shoulder with a grin on his face.
“My best friend…” Sunwoo’s voice is quiet with confusion. “He’s…he’s getting bitches?”
“What did I say about saying that,” his girlfriend pops around the corner with a scowl on her face. Sunwoo’s face lights up, but it disappears at the scolding gaze she gives him.
“Sorry, baby,” he pouts and she rolls her eyes. “I just wasn’t expecting it.”
“Give them some damn privacy,” she clicks her tongue, eyeing the door. “Lord knows they’re probably gonna need it.”
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Eric is facing a large gaming setup when you enter the room. You can see the dark polo sweater which is partially unzipped to reveal some of his chest, the beige hat, and the khaki combo he had, unfortunately, chosen to wear today (you’re going to have to update his closet soon, whether you date him or not. You have to save the next girl he’s with). The lights, shockingly, are purple rather than the red you had expected. You can see expensive monitors and a keyboard, all of which are cleaner than any other gamer’s setup that you’d seen. In fact, his whole room is so much cleaner than you had ever given him credit for. You’d expected to see something absolutely filthy, but Eric never fails to shock you.
What doesn’t shock you, however?
Five Nights At Freddy’s playing on the screens.
You clear your throat, and he barely even spares a glance at you. You wonder if he even recognized that it was you—
“Yo, Y/N!” Oh god, this might not go as planned. “You’re early!” 
“Figured I’d come by to hang out before we got started on the paper.” You come up behind him, dropping your bag and jacket by the edge of the bed, revealing the black sheer top you’d chosen to go with your white skirt. You’d also chosen the perfume you know gets his attention the most, the one that always has him practically gluing his face to your neck. 
That doesn’t happen this time. He stays glued to his game, his legs spread wide open and tongue sticking out from the corner of his lips. 
“Feel— fuck!” His body jerks when an animatronic (Foxy, maybe?) comes out of a vent and gives him barely enough time to start protecting himself. “Feel free to make yourself comfortable, I might take a while.”
You hum, not moving from your spot. Your hands are on the back of his gaming chair, your eyes focused on the screen with fake intrigue. He doesn’t acknowledge you, so you let your hands begin to sink onto his shoulders. His chin tilts toward you a bit, but he corrects himself and goes back to ignoring you even when your nails graze the skin of his collarbone. 
“What are you doing?” Eric asks, but it’s more dismissive than anything. 
“Just watching you play,” you reply with a sly grin. Another jumpscare appears, and he grunts when you intentionally dig your nails into him (something you’ve learned he loves over the past two weeks). 
Part two of your scheme begins when you sink to your knees beside Eric and slip under his desk. This grabs his attention. Eric watches as you get comfortable, no longer paying attention to the screens in front of him when you run your hands up his thighs, grazing the button of his khaki pants. 
“Y/N, this—” his breath catches in his throat when you finally undo the button and pull the zipper down. You can see his member already hardening, twitching in his boxers. “You don’t have to— I don’t— why—”
“Jus’ play your game, baby.” You purr, your fingers hooking under the band of his boxers to tug them and his pants down at the same time. His jaw is hanging open, eyes wide with awe, but you stop your movements. “Play your game, Eric, or I’m leaving.”
His response is immediate, sliding his chair closer to you and lifting his hips to let you work. Your smirk is wide, and you yank his clothing down in one go, letting them rest around his ankles. Eric’s knee begins to bounce, and you rest your hand on top of it to steady him. His member, in just a few moments, has completely hardened. You can see the slick precum beginning to leak from his tip, and you lower your mouth to catch each drop on his tongue. 
The moan he emits is loud, and you pull your mouth back just an inch to dig your nails into his thigh.
“Stay quiet and don’t cum unless I say so.” He whimpers in response, and you bring your mouth back onto him. You begin by suckling at his tip, letting your tongue swirl around him like a lollypop, and listening to his barely restrained moans. You hear clicking and tapping on his keyboard, as well as random noises from the game
You take him a little deeper and his thighs tense, but he’s good at staying quiet. He’s good even when his tip hits the back of your throat and you gag around him. Even when you take him so deep that you’re choking on him and spit is dripping from your mouth and onto his skin. Even when you begin hollowing your mouth and bobbing your head, and swallowing around him a few times when you take him all the way down so your nose is against his pelvis. 
Another jumpscare and his hips jerk and force him farther down your throat. You moan around him, your eyes rolling back at the feeling, and that elicits a whine from him.
“Y/N,” he pleads. “I’ve been s-so good for yo—you right? Haven’t— Haven’t I been good? Ple—please let me cum. Jus’ wanna cum, please?” 
Eric sees you look up at him through your eyelashes, and just the sight of you slobbering all over him has his eyes rolling back in his head.
Then you pull off him completely, leaving his dick twitching and lonely against his stomach. 
“Why did— why did you pull off?” His eyes are dazed, and you flash a coy smile at him. 
“I told you to pay attention to the game, didn’t I?” 
“I— yeah, you did but— but I just— you—” Eric is tearing up as you begin to push your body out from under the desk to stand in front of him. 
“Poor baby,” you cup his cheek and your stomach churns when he leans into your palm with a sigh. “Should’ve just paid attention and beat the night, then, hm?” 
“Please,” he whines, leaving little kisses on your palm and working his way to your wrist, your forearm, your elbow, and then he’s pulling you onto his lap so you’re nearly sitting on his dick. You can feel it pulsing against your core, and you can’t help the tiny rolls of your hips to gain some sort of friction. “Please, just— I’ll…I’ll do anything you want. I’ll— I’ll eat you out, I’ll finger you, fuck, I’ll— I’ll let you sit on my face if that’s what you want.”
You hum, tapping your fingers against his chest in thought. “What if I want you to fuck me?” 
His body tenses and his cheeks begin to flush, his eyes refusing to meet yours. 
“Eric,” you say softly, moving your hand to his chin and forcing him to look at you. “Eric, talk to me.”
“I— I don’t—”
“I’m not gonna force you to do anything, Eric,” you reassure him, stopping the ministrations of your hips and bringing your free hand to the side of his neck. “I just want to know why. I want to understand. Do you— do you not want me? Do you wanna save yourself for another girl?” 
“No!” He snaps, his voice a bit harsher than he’d intended for it to come out but it has you flinching away from him. In a moment of panic, he brings his hands to your waist and tugs you closer to him. “I— sorry. It’s not— it’s not that at all.”
“Then why?” Your hands are playing with the ends of his blonde hair, and Eric swallows once. Twice. And then he tucks his head into your shoulder. 
“I…I don’t know.” 
You nod, disappointment filling you, but you don’t let it show. 
“Let’s work on the project.” You slide off his lap, ignoring the somewhat heartbroken gaze he shoots you. “The paper is due in a couple of days, so I grabbed a few sources and drafted an outline.”
For a moment, he doesn’t say anything. He just tucks his member back into his pants and comes to join you on his bed. The air is tense and you know he wants to say something. You wait for him to say it. 
He doesn’t.
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“Eric, you’re fucking stupid.” Sunwoo throws himself onto his best friend’s bed, staring at the ceiling and listening to the sound of Eric hitting his head on his desk.
“I know…”
“I mean, we already knew this from previous incidents. Ahem, giving my then-crush-now-girlfriend a concussion. But holy shit I thought it couldn’t possibly get any worse than that.”
“I know!” Eric whines, sitting heavily on the gaming chair he’d gotten head on almost four hours ago, and could have gotten laid in had he not been a damn moron.
“I mean, you’ve been trying to get laid by this chick for how long? And you cockblocked yourself because…” Sunwoo trails off, his eyebrows knitting together as he sits up. “Wait, why did you cockblock yourself?”
“I don’t know, man!” Eric huffs and leans his head back. “Fuck, she was so nice about it too. Too nice. I know damn well she’s pissed at me but she’s too fucking nice to say anything.”
“Well yeah,” Sunwoo shrugs. “Sex 101— don’t force yourself onto anyone. Hello? Why would she do that to you?”
Eric crosses his arms over his chest, using his feet to spin his chair back and forth lightly. You had been really sweet about everything. You could’ve gotten mad at him, especially since this wasn’t the first time this had happened, but you didn’t. You wanted him to be ready. 
And he was. He was so ready! He just— he gets nervous around you! What if he’s a disappointment? What if he’s so bad that you have to fake an orgasm? What if he doesn’t fit? What if he hurts you?
“Eric,” Sunwoo claps his hands together to snap Eric out of his thoughts. “Stop getting distracted while I’m trying to help you in a way that won’t lead to injuries.” 
The poor, self-cockblocked boy lifts his head with a pout. 
“There’s a party this weekend, right?” 
“Yeah…” Eric tilts his head.
“Make sure she’s there. Use whatever excuse you need to, and make sure she shows up. Then, ask her to talk. Go somewhere private, talk to her, tell her you’re ready, and then fuck until the sun comes up.” Sunwoo claps again, throwing his out to the side in a cocky I just made the best plan ever manner. “First of all, gets you laid, second of all— free revenge on Sangyeon.”
Eric drums his fingers against his legs in thought. The plan was good, he’d admit that. Of course, not out loud. No, he would never let Sunwoo know that he was right about something.
“Fine,” Eric agrees. “But if shit goes south, it’s your fault.”
“Deal,” Sunwoo grins mischievously. “And if shit goes right, you owe me and my girlfriend dinner.”
“Deal.”
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Eric doesn’t see you at all that week, something that has him nearly crying on the ground in Sangyeon’s bedroom. He’d texted you, asked if you were okay, sent you notes, told you about the party but didn’t outright invite you. Nothing. No sign of you in lectures, no texts from you aside from a confirmation that you’d submit your written portion of the midterm.
“Take a damn breath.” Sangyeon rolls his eyes and tugs a formfitting black mock-neck shirt over his head, sliding a silver chain around his neck afterward. “She’s probably busy.”
“But she never goes this long without texting me! Or being in a lecture!” The youngest member of the frat holds his head in his hands, staring down at the white buttondown shirt that hung somewhat loosely on his body. 
“Maybe she hates you, I don’t know!” Sangyeon exclaims. “Stop bothering me about it!” Eric pouts up at the TBZ president.
“But you know how to handle these things!”
“Not when you’re on my ass about it all day every day for a week straight.” Sangyeon’s lip curls and Eric huffs, laying back on the hardwood floor. “Dude, just be patient. Who knows, maybe she was sick? Maybe she’ll show up today and you’ll get laid. Just. Be. Patient.”
And patient he was. 
He lurked around the party, a drink in his hand and a ripped red baseball cap covering his head and shielding his red-rimmed eyes from the public. They didn’t need to know he’d cried over his two-year-long crush ghosting him. 
“Who pissed in your cheerios?” He turns his body slowly, ready to crack a corny joke, and walk away from whoever yelled in his ear, but he stops dead in his tracks when he sees you. You’re in another tiny little black skirt and a black bralette that was used as a poor excuse for a shirt with a leather jacket thrown over it. He nearly crumbles in front of you, ready to worship you and the ground you walk on, ready to take you in front of all these people so they know that he’s yours.
“Oh my god.” 
You laugh at the dumbstruck look in his eyes, at the way his eyes are stuck on your chest, and the way your bralette pushes your boobs up just enough to catch attention. 
“You okay, Eric?” Your hand is on his arm, and in an instant his cup is thrown to the side and his lips are on yours, his tongue shoved into your mouth. You gasp at the sudden intrusion, and, really, the suddenness of it all, but you don’t complain. You love how frantic he is for you, love how he’s ready to risk it all after just a week of not seeing you. 
When he parts from you, there’s a string of spit connecting your lips that only breaks when you swipe your thumb across his lip. 
“How’s that for a hello?” You say just loud enough for him to hear it. 
“We need to talk.”
“We do.” You confirm, but his lips are on yours again, and you’re so glad that everyone is distracted by a game of beer pong on the other side of the room. You let your eyes flutter shut, moaning into his mouth when he pushes his tongue against yours. They dance together, swirling around each other but not fighting for dominance. No, this kiss isn’t about that. This is two people being addicted to the taste of each other, two people who could never get enough of what the other has to offer. 
You have to force yourself to part from him, turning away so you can find somewhere more private— preferably his bedroom. He doesn’t stray from you, gluing his lips to the side of your neck as you try to weave through the crowd. It’s not easy, especially with Eric on you and refusing to let go, but you don’t mind. 
Not when he shoves you against his dresser as soon as his bedroom door is shut and locked. 
The handles of the drawers dig against your spine, but you’re too distracted by Eric’s lips on your chest to care. His hat is missing, likely somewhere on the staircase. Your jacket has been thrown to the opposite side of the room, the straps of your bralette shoved down and both breasts freed from its confines so Eric can lick and suck and bite at the soft mounds. 
“Eric,” you moan out, arching your back into his hunched form. He groans against you, sucking hard at your nipple and eliciting a loud moan from you. “Eric, pick me up.” 
Without even pulling away, he does, plopping you unceremoniously onto his dresser and moving his lips to the other breast, replacing his mouth with his hand. Your hand comes to the back of his head, and you find yourself smiling at the desperation your lover shows. 
“Missed me that much, huh?” Your composure is crumbling, but you don’t care. “Might have to disappear more often.”
He rips away from your chest, eyes narrowed into a glare. “Don’t even joke about that. I thought you died.”
You kiss him again, both hands holding his face to yours, and your legs wrap around his waist. Eric’s hands find your thighs and he lifts you off the dresser. He sucks on your tongue, biting on your lip when you start to pull away and you whimper at the sting of pain. 
“Thought I died, hm?” You brush back the blonde strands of hair covering his sweaty forehead and smirk. “It’s a good thing I didn’t then, hm? What would you have done? Fucked your fist for the rest of your life?” 
A muscle in his jaw feathers and he throws you down on his bed. You yelp, eyes widening at the personality change. A week ago, he would’ve been begging you for any touch, would’ve been falling apart just for one look at your dripping pussy. But now?
Now he looks like a starved animal, and you’re the first helpless creature he’s seen in weeks. 
“Eric,” you warn, watching him unbutton his shirt. “Remember what I said.” 
He eyes you, smirking at the way your jaw drops when his shirt hits the floor. It’s odd, isn’t it? You’d probably been bare in front of him countless times but you’d hardly seen him with his pants down.
“Holy fuck.” You stare at his torso, at the chiseled abs and biceps, at the veins in his arms, at the trail of hair leading down to his dick. “You’re— you’re fucking shredded.”
“Shredded?” He quirks an eyebrow, undoing his belt and the button of his pants so he can push them down and kick them to the side. “That’s the first word you thought of?”
“Well—” you clear your throat and turn your gaze away from him. “I mean— you are.”
“Cute,” He coos and crawls over you, hooking his fingers into the hem of your skirt. “May I?”
“You may,” you look at him again, then down his body and swallow hard at the sight of him. You’ve seen him many times. You’ve held him in your hand, in your mouth. You know what to expect.
So why does it make you so nervous now?
“You’re getting distracted,” Eric kisses his teeth, lowering his face to yours but not kissing you. He traces his nose across your cheek, light kisses from his lips going with it. His nose nudges against your jaw, urging you to tilt your jaw up so he can kiss you there. You do, and his lips feel like fire against your skin. “I thought you liked it when people pay attention?”
“I— I do!” You gasp out, and Eric laughs against your skin. Where the fuck is all this confidence coming from? 
“Then why aren’t you paying attention to me?” His fingers press against your sopping-wet entrance and you lift your hips in a weak attempt to get them inside of you. 
“I am!” Tears are welling in your eyes. “I am paying attention to you, Eric, please!”
He juts out his lip in a mocking pout, using the hand that’s not against your heat to wipe the tears away. 
“Okay baby,” he says softly, sinking two thick, calloused fingers into you. “Don’t cry, not yet.” 
The intrusion has you crying out and Eric does his best to hush you, to soothe you, and then he’s thrusting his fingers in and out of you at a fast pace. Your fingers cling to his shoulders, feeling the muscles tense and shift with every movement of his arm. Eric grins when your eyes finally flutter shut, when you finally give in to him. He praises you when he slips a third finger into your core, and then a fourth. He praises you as he works you through the sting, curling his fingers gently to search for the spot he knows would have you falling to pieces under him. 
Eric finds it easily and is oh so pleased by your wail of his name. He grins almost maliciously, when you begin to shake, when your body begins to thrash, and your nails dig into his shoulders and drag down his back. 
“Always so easy for me,” he hums, staring in awe at the wrinkle between your eyebrows and how your tongue practically hangs out of your mouth. When he knows you’re about to cum, he crushes his lips against yours again and begins to move his hand faster. You’re sobbing into his mouth, unable to kiss him back between your cries and moans, but Eric doesn’t mind. 
He lets you grind against his hand until you’re not shaking anymore. Then, and only then, does he pull his fingers out of you, watching with curious satisfaction as your cum drips from his fingers and onto the blanket below you. 
“Don’t— don’t sit there staring at that shit.” you hiss, but Eric just smiles. 
“So you can speak coherently now?” 
“Shut up and fuck me already, or do you need me to teach you how to do that too?” 
Eric’s gaze hardens, his tongue pushing against his cheek. You push yourself to sit up, but Eric pushes you right back down and uses his hands to push your legs apart. 
“I don’t need you to teach me anything,” he grunts, lining his member up with your entrance. 
“Really? That’s not what it looked like three weeks ag—oh fuck!” Your back arches off the bed when he suddenly sinks into you. Four fingers seem to have been just barely enough, the sting fading just as fast as it came. Or maybe you just like the pain so much it turned into pleasure. Whatever the reason, you’re quick to tell Eric to pick up the pace. 
You’re both shocked and impressed by the movement of his hips. He alternates between smooth, sharp rolls and harsh, pointed thrusts that have your body forced up the bed and the headboard knocking against the wall.
“You think I need your help?” Eric growls, digging his hands into your thighs and spreading them farther apart, lifting the lower half of your body a bit to change the angle. This brings a new pleasure to both of you. Something that you’ve never felt before, and has your mind reeling. “I didn’t need you. I wanted you. I wanted every part of you. I craved you, craved your taste. It was pure fucking luck that you wanted me too.”
“Eric,” You gasp out, sinking your teeth into the side of his neck to leave another mark on his skin. “Eric, feels so good, god it feels so good please, please don’t stop. Don’t stop, oh my god!”
“Look at you,” he yanks your head out of his neck by your hair, staring down at your fucked out face as he continues to plow into you with no remorse. “All fucked out for me. I did this. Your little virgin boy. Isn’t it embarrassing?” 
You whine in response but apparently, that isn’t what he’s looking for because he slows down at your lack of response. 
“Answer me,” he hisses.
“I— I don’t— Eric I don’t—” You don’t even know what he’s trying to ask. You stopped listening as soon as he pulled your hair, the sting of it feeling too good. Eric laughs, picking up his pace again and dropping your head back down onto his pillows. 
“What? Too fucked out to answer me? Who would’ve thought that I was the virgin and not you? What would people think if they walked in here and saw me fucking you like this?” He doesn’t expect an answer this time, not that you’d be able to give him one anyway. 
Your legs draw tightly around his slim waist, holding him close as your orgasm approaches again, but Eric doesn’t seem to be even close to cumming. Even when your second orgasm washes over you, and then your third. He fucks you through each one, sweat dripping from his hair and down his torso until his body is sliding against yours. Your body feels numb, but at the same time, you can feel everything. Every drag of his length against your walls, every punch of his tip against your cervix. Your arms curl around his neck, but your grip is loose. 
When Eric’s hips finally begin to stutter, you’re about four orgasms in, the fifth about to wash over you. Your voice is hoarse, a puddle of drool on the pillow under your head. You can’t find it in you to make any more noise, just gasping breathes and quiet whines. You cum together, and the feeling of his cum filling you has your back arching again. This time, Eric catches you and holds your body against his. He kisses you gently, uncaring that you can barely breathe let alone kiss him. 
“That— that was a good talk,” he jokes, and you say nothing at first. “Um…are— are you okay?” 
“You just—” you clear your throat, but it does nothing. “You just fucked me within an inch of my life, as a completely inexperienced virgin, and you’re asking me if I’m okay?” 
Eric frowns, settling down on top of you, but careful not to lay his full weight onto your obviously aching body. He can see the bruises he’d left all over you— on your chest, your neck, your hips. Anywhere his lips or hands touched, there was a bruise left in his wake. He imagines, however, that he looks no different. He can feel the scratches you left on his back, marring every inch of his skin and likely drawing a bit of blood, he can see a hickey on his arm that you left at some point and can imagine how the front of his body looks.
“So…so you’re not okay?” He tries and you huff, throwing an arm over your eyes. 
“Eric, I love you, but you’re such a dumbass.” You groan, shoving him off your body so you can breathe properly. “Go draw a bath. I’m gonna need one after that shit.”
“Before I do, can you answer one question?” You pry your eyes open to scowl at him and his damn puppy-like eyes. 
“What?” 
“Are we— are we dating now?” 
“We won’t be for long if you don’t get that fucking bath going.” 
“Aw, yeah!” Eric cheers, jumping off the bed and running to the bathroom to start the bath like you asked. “Guess who isn’t single anymore, Sunwoo!”
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“What’s your problem?” Haknyeon peers at Sangyeon over the lip of his mug. The frat president is glaring at you and Eric with something murderous in his eyes, which seem to have dark bags under them.
“My bedroom is right next to Eric’s.” Haknyeon raises an eyebrow, and Sangyeon clears his throat. “My bedroom is next to Eric’s.”
“Okay…oh. OH. Oh, shit man, I’m sorry.” Haknyeon turns his gaze to the two of you, grimacing at the thought of how long Sangyeon could have been kept up, but smiling when he sees how the two of you are cuddled on the couch. The grimace returns when he sees the state of your necks, neither of you having bothered to hide what you did to each other. 
“I mean,” Sunwoo sits on the counter, a bowl of cereal in his hand. “You kinda deserved it after what you did to him.”
“What the fuck— what did I do to him?” Sangyeon exclaims, and Sunwoo quirks an eyebrow. 
“You fucked your girlfriend for, what, seven rounds straight? The poor man didn’t get any sleep that night. Be glad you were able to rest after that.”
Haknyeon raises his cup, and the three frat boys return to “subtly” watching the two of you.
“Do you at least know if he was good? You know, for a virgin.”
“Oh my fucking god, Sunwoo, shut up.”
“You shut up, Hak! It was just a question!”
“You two are fucking nasty,” Sangyeon’s lip curls into a sneer, trying to block out the memories of last night. “But I’m gonna need a shit ton of bleach if I wanna forget that bullshit.”
“Hot.”
“Sunwoo, shut UP!”
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© itsbeeble. do not steal, claim, or repost.
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rebeltarot · 3 months
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FUTURE SPOUSE ➕ VDay Special - Love Letter from your Future Spouse
“I was, and I remain, utterly and completely and totally in love with you.”
[3 piles] ・ [5 decks] ・ [29-39 cards for each pile] ・ [letters, quotes, songs]
Hello friends! It's almost Valentine's Day, and I am so excited to share this Special with you. What are your plans for this Valentine's Day? Are you spending it with a cherished person, your friends, or are you your own Valentine this year? Definitely let me know. I love holidays that bring people together which is why I dedicated a reading for it. Enjoy.
Painting: Diana and Cupid - Pompeo Batoni (1761)
Helpful Links: How to choose your pile ➕ Request a reading
18+ only - This is not a blog for minors. Warnings: Some piles have sexual innuendos.
Your reblogs are highly appreciated. Thank you so much for supporting my work!
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© rebeltarot 2024 - all rights reserved ・ do not steal, copy, change, or redistribute my content.
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PILE 01 ➕
Disclaimer: All Tarot readings on this blog are meant for entertainment purposes only. My Pick-a-card readings are based on my knowledge of the tarot and my intuition. Tarot is a divination tool and should not be considered a replacement for medical or professional guidance. It is not intended to be used as such, and any choices made in response to my readings are your own responsibility. All interpretations are speculative, and whether you believe in it is your choice. Readings are for self-reflection purposes only; take what resonates, and leave the rest. My readings are timeless unless stated otherwise.
CONFIRMATION
Signs and confirmation that this is your pile. This can be anything from your initials, astrological placements, significant messages or signs, places, songs, etc. Please use your discernment.
B, L, A, I, N, E, H, blank, 11:33, 11
Quote: Even if the stars fail to shine and the moon refuses to light up the world, I know I have nothing to fear. I have my guardian angel to look after me, care for me and love me forever and always. I love you!
Song: Love Me More - Sam Smith
LOVE LETTER FROM YOUR SPOUSE
Cards: Dear, Always by your side, I want to start a family with you, I am open to compromise, I have an offer for you, I am lost without you, It was always you, My nerves have been getting the best of me, Yeah nah, We have known each other in other lifetimes, I left because you told me to, I was in denial, You have so many choices and options, Make space for it, dance with me make me sway, I like it like that, destined, you cam to me at a time when my heart was selective, I'm a slave for your love, You don't own me, I don't wanna play no games, New beginnings, Feminine moon, Childhood, Wealth, Support, Ego death, Tower moment, Crush, Evil eyes
Hello, Pile 01, and welcome to your reading. How are you spending this Valentine's Day? Your spouse has a message for you, enjoy!
Dear Pile 01,
To us, distance is nothing. You’re right here in my heart, and I love you more than ever. It's impossible to put into words how much I love you or to describe how you make me feel, but that doesn't stop me from trying. You are my home, the person I trust with everything. There is no one else I would rather start a family with. It could just be you and me, or mini versions of us as well. I am more than willing to compromise with you because, at the end of the day, you are all I need and want. And I am not embarrassed to say that I need you, because I do. You, to me, are a want that turned into a need. There is no going back after knowing you. I can't possibly deny myself the magic that is loving you, so I have an offer for you, and that is my love, my devotion, and my forever. It could all be yours; you just have to say the word. I am lost without you, and there is just no one else who could even compare. It has always been you. You. You. You. Lately, my nerves have been getting the best of me. Could you tell? Did you feel my anxiety? I hope not. But if you did, I find solace in our connection. Your energy feels like home. It's like history has threaded us together and made us one. I know you. And I have known you for lifetimes. I apologize for having left you. It wasn't easy, but I respected your wishes. Honestly, I was just so afraid of your rejection that I cowardly believed you when you said I should go. I was in denial. It's intimidating to see how many people see what I see in you. How many other people are willing to risk it all for you! I can't claim to not understand, though, because here I am doing the same. Your light and your energy are just impossible to ignore and unsee. But I am working on myself. I am actively making space for you and us.
There is just no one who does it like you do. Your energy and your eyes compel me to do things I had never considered before. You are the only person—no, angel—that can ever make me sway. For you, I'll second-guess everything. For you, I'll leave everything. And I like it like that. I wouldn't change it, and I wouldn't have it any other way. You have so much power over me, but I trust you. You could do anything you wanted and ask for the world, and I would give it to you. But I know that, despite everything, you will never hurt me. No, you would never take advantage of me. With you, I am safe. And with me, you are safe. We are destined, my love. There is no way around us. When we met, I was selective with the people in my life, but you just made your way into my world effortlessly. Like it was nothing. Like there wasn't any wall built around my heart. It's as if you have always belonged. And you are right; you have. I am a slave to your love. But although I am bound to you, I am still free. There is nothing about you that makes sense, and simultaneously, you are the answer to every question I have. I want to be crystal clear with you. It's you. And I have no intention to play any games or make our journey any harder. You don't have to prove yourself to me. You are enough just the way you are and exactly as you come.
I want a new beginning for us. I dream of a fresh start with you. You are my counterpart, and we are connected in every realm possible. I feel you, always. I understand you, always. I feel honored to see every side of you, and I am so blessed to learn about the wonder of the world that is you. You are a person who is so rich and abundant and so full of life that I just can't stay away from you, ever. I want to help you and support you through everything. For you, I would take on the hardest challenges and the scariest obstacles out there. If it helps you, soothes you, or even puts a smile on your face, there is nothing that could stop me from jumping without being afraid of falling. I am there for you, always. I am around you every second of the day. Because, darling, I love you. I would die a thousand deaths for you. Whatever you need me to do or whatever you need me to be, just say the word. Nothing will ever tear us apart. I love you so much that even Cupid is jealous.
Always by your side, your future spouse.
Your reblogs are highly appreciated. Thank you so much for supporting my work!
© rebeltarot 2024 - all rights reserved ・ do not steal, copy, change, or redistribute my content.
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PILE 02 ➕
Disclaimer: All Tarot readings on this blog are meant for entertainment purposes only. My Pick-a-card readings are based on my knowledge of the tarot and my intuition. Tarot is a divination tool and should not be considered a replacement for medical or professional guidance. It is not intended to be used as such, and any choices made in response to my readings are your own responsibility. All interpretations are speculative, and whether you believe in it is your choice. Readings are for self-reflection purposes only; take what resonates, and leave the rest. My readings are timeless unless stated otherwise.
CONFIRMATION
Signs and confirmation that this is your pile. This can be anything from your initials, astrological placements, significant messages or signs, places, songs, etc. Please use your discernment.
P, E, N, T, T, O, O, C, 11:40, message/dm, sirens
Quote: I want to drown with your lips, in the ocean of our kiss.
Song: Lemonade - Internet Money, Gunna, Don Toliver, NAV
LOVE LETTER FROM YOUR SPOUSE
Cards: My dream come true, With all my love, I respect you, Let me hold you, I am absolutely in love with you, I am coming trust, I am healing my broken heart, You light up my life, Love is not fair, I have been distracted, Yeah nah, We have known each other in other lifetimes, I am lost without you, I was always you, I talk about you a lot, You are too far away, If I follow you I could lose everything, We are from two different worlds, Clarity of mind, You make me want to do better and try harder, You like me mad you think it's funny, I hear your messages in songs, Baby would you ever want to be my girlfriend, You touch me like no other, Sexual energy, Who do you love, Follow me into the dark break up a piece of your heart, I'm facing my truth, Do you want me the way I want you, Masculine Sun, Trust, Helplessness, Clash, Unwanted change, True love, Power, Child:wounded, Trauma, Confession
Hello, Pile 02, and welcome to your reading. How are you spending this Valentine's Day? Your spouse has a message for you, enjoy!
My dream come true,
I want to get drunk in your skin, as it glistens drops of love, pouring from our sin. You are the essence of life for me. I respect you. Your thoughts, your ideas, your words, your willpower, and your intelligence. All of you! I am yearning for you; please, just let me hold you. I am absolutely and irrevocably in love with you. Darling, soon. Soon I'll be able to hold you, touch you, and breathe in your scent. I am coming; trust me. There is nothing that would ever be strong enough to keep me away from you. I am healing myself so I can be there for you wholeheartedly. My heart was broken before, but for you, I'll risk another heartbreak. For you, I'll even risk my life. Because you, my dearest of all, light up my life, my entire world, even. Although love might not be fair, when it comes to you, I'll give up everything without asking for anything in return. Lately, I have been all over the place and distracted, and I apologize. Although that is true, and although I am healing and hurting; my mind, my heart, and my energy, all of me still can't stay away from you. We have known each other for lifetimes. You are no secret to me, and I am no secret to you. Without you, I am lost. You are my guiding light, and you are the sole reason why I am finding my way back to myself. You are my only motivation and my only inspiration. It was always you, my love. There is no confusion here. No matter our pasts, it all eventually leads to us. That is the only logical conclusion. The only thing that makes sense. You and me. I talk about you often, you know. I tell everyone and everything about the wonder that is you. But you are still so far away from me. Following you could cost me everything I have. You and I are from two different worlds. Worlds that are not compatible. And although it's everything I have known thus far, I will abandon it instantly. I will sacrifice everything so I can be with you. Because you clearly do not understand that everything I have had is just a fraction of everything that you are. I am not losing. With you, I am only winning. So no, I am not sad about it. And no, I will never regret it. This is something that I will never question, and believe me, I'll make the same choice over and over again. With you, there is no confusion, no doubt, just clarity. Wherever you are is my home.
You make me want to do better. You inspire me to grow, to change, and to open myself up and be vulnerable. I am an intimidating person, but to you, that means nothing. You just laugh when I get mad because you think it's funny. And because you trust me. My god, your trust is just as sweet as honey. It's worth all the gold in the world. It's worth all that I have. We are connected, always. Even if I am not in your life right now, I can still hear your messages. You are in everything that surrounds me, but especially in the songs I hear. You are in the lyrics that capture my attention and in the melodies that move me to tears. It was never hard for you to reach my heart, because for you, there are no barriers. With you, I am open and vulnerable. Would you ever consider being with me? It's a silly question, right? But will you be my Valentine? forever? Until we both lose our breath and beyond that? Everything pulls me toward you. Like a magnet, I always find myself around you, touching you, kissing you, and pleasing you. No one heats me like you do. One simple touch and I am a puddle, water bending at your command. I have never experienced such an attraction before. I am a composed person, hardly shakable. But it takes one single look—the tiniest microexpression—and I am ready to go. I am ready to worship. Who do you love? Is it me? Will you choose to spend the rest of your life by my side? I am aware of other energies. And I have to admit that it startles me. It scares me. The slightest possibility of losing you instills fear within me that rattles my bones. Nothing, absolutely nothing, in existence puts me in as much fear as the idea, the tiniest thought, of losing you. Are you as deeply in love as I am? I want you to be. I want to touch your heart as much as you touch mine. I want to make your body ache for me as much as my body aches for you. Let's get entangled in our passion and stay here forever. I want—no, I need your love. Do you want me the way that I want you? When you are in love, in true, deep love, there is no way around facing yourself. And I am facing my truth right now, so I can be the best version of myself. You don't deserve any less than that.
I want to be strong for you. I want you to be able to rely on me. I want to provide for you. Your trust—it's the only thing I need in this life. No, your love. It's my life elixir. I am helpless without you. We're just like fire melting into ice, and I love the way that we collide. I'm pitch black, drowning’ in your light, and you are the only one who can put me in my place. You are the only person who can set my whole world on fire. My equal. And I would not have it any other way. I know that our paths to each other lead through loss and tears. You have to let go of something to be with me, just as I have to let go of everything to be with you. It's a change that neither of us asked for, but if it leads us to each other, if it leads us to true love, isn't it worth it? You are so breathtakingly powerful. A force to be reckoned with. The entire world trembles to see your beauty, your power, and your intelligence. You are the only person I trust, the only person who will ever know me for everything that I am. The good, the bad, and the ugly. It's all yours. There is no point in hiding it; you see through me so effortlessly.
With all my love, Your future spouse
Your reblogs are highly appreciated. Thank you so much for supporting my work!
© rebeltarot 2024 - all rights reserved ・ do not steal, copy, change, or redistribute my content.
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PILE 03 ➕
Disclaimer: All Tarot readings on this blog are meant for entertainment purposes only. My Pick-a-card readings are based on my knowledge of the tarot and my intuition. Tarot is a divination tool and should not be considered a replacement for medical or professional guidance. It is not intended to be used as such, and any choices made in response to my readings are your own responsibility. All interpretations are speculative, and whether you believe in it is your choice. Readings are for self-reflection purposes only; take what resonates, and leave the rest. My readings are timeless unless stated otherwise.
CONFIRMATION
Signs and confirmation that this is your pile. This can be anything from your initials, astrological placements, significant messages or signs, places, songs, etc. Please use your discernment.
S, U, R, E, B, E, U, I, blank, 11:47, sirens
Quote: I want to make love with my tongue, and whisper kisses, through your mind, until your body comes, undone- Body language.
Song: LAW - Yoon Mirae, BIBI
LOVE LETTER FROM YOUR SPOUSE
Cards: My cherished, Devotionally yours, I don't think I ever truly knew you, I left because you told me to, I hold back because I don't want to be rejected, Other opinions have clouded my vision, I don't want to lose you, Definitely, My surroundings don't approve, I need more time, I was a fool, We are too different, I'm ready, I think we should slow down, It's ok to feel feelings, I hope we can love through the pain after the honeymoon fades, I wanna marry those eyes, Sexual energy, I don't understand, You don't own me, Baby would you ever want to be my girlfriend, don't be scared I ain't afraid, Love making, Judgement, Surprise, Withdrawal, Tower Moment, Support, Privilege
Hello, Pile 03, and welcome to your reading. How are you spending this Valentine's Day? Your spouse has a message for you, enjoy!
My cherished Pile 03,
If there is a parallel universe, I will fight through the stars to find you. Darling, I don't think I ever truly knew you. I don't think I will ever truly know you. You are the entire cosmos, ever-changing, and it will take lifetimes, if not forever, to discover everything that makes you you. I am sorry that I left. I turned away from you and us because you told me to. And I hold back because I don't want to be rejected. Losing you once has nearly broken me; I don't think I'd be able to survive another time. There is so much noise around us. There are so many opinions and so many views that have clouded my vision. I am confused. I don't want to lose you. ever. I exist, so I can live on a planet graced by your presence. Just knowing that you are alive and well keeps me going, and it makes life worth living. Your presence humbles me to the point where just breathing the same air as you feels like a blessing. There are people in my life who are jealous of our connection. People who do not approve of us being together. I need more time to sort out all the thoughts in my head. So many doubts have been planted in my mind that I need space to clear out the clutter that clouds my vision. I was a fool. Such a fool! I regret hurting you. I loathe that I was the cause of your hurt, the cause of your tears. We are so different, yet we get along so well. I am ready for you, darling, but I think we need to take things slow. Rushing into it will only hurt us. It's okay to feel your feelings. Love, true love, evokes so many emotions in us. It makes us feel deeply, and it makes us hurt deeply too.
I hope that we can love through the pain, even if our honeymoon fades, even once you take off your rose-colored glasses. Your eyes. Oh my god, your eyes. I want to marry them. You bring me to my knees with your gaze. I have never met a person before who had me in a chokehold like you. I don't understand it, and it confuses me. When you look at me with your beautiful and hypnotizing eyes, I'll say yes to anything. Whatever you want, it's yours. You don't own me, not yet. I am not yours, and you are not mine. But would you be my forever person? Would you marry me? I know it feels like a big commitment, one that might scare you. But it doesn't scare me; it never will, because I trust you. I yearn for you deeply and passionately. I imagine us making love. I imagine you, naked, looking into my eyes and screaming my name. Don't judge me, please. I just can't help it. The pull you have on me is just as surprising for me as it is for you. I might be withdrawing right now, but it's because I need to collect my power and my energy, so I am ready for the change that is you. For the new beginning and world that you promise. I want you; I crave you. It's primal. I want to support you, I want to be strong for you, and I want to earn the privilege that is your love.
Devotionally yours, Your future spouse.
Your reblogs are highly appreciated. Thank you so much for supporting my work!
© rebeltarot 2024 - all rights reserved ・ do not steal, copy, change, or redistribute my content.
780 notes · View notes
imyourbratzdoll · 10 months
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𝒂 𝒕𝒖𝒎𝒃𝒍𝒓 𝒐𝒃𝒔𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏
hello, something I came up with that was initially supposed to be written with chris as the man, but seeing as I no longer write for him, I give a huge thanks to @royalsweetteaa for helping me choose.
summary - sebastian decides to download tumblr and comes across your blog, slowly, he becomes obsessed with you and your work.
warning - smut, obsession, masturbation, oral sex, swearing, slightly dark content.
18+ only please, the gif and header I use aren't mine.
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On a cool Saturday night, Sebastian lies in bed, staring at his phone as he looks at the app he has just downloaded. He had heard many things about it, had heard that there was fanfiction written about him on this app. Sebastian didn’t think he would ever download Tumblr, but he was taking a small break from acting, hiding away from the world and thinking, why not. He didn’t know if reading what the fans wrote about him would be creepy or exhilarating.
He thinks for a few seconds as he tries to think of a perfect username. Sebastian lets out a noise as one comes to mind. His fingers move fast as he types ‘nottherealstan’, smiling triumphantly when his account is created, and many things appear on his home screen. He lies there for a while, scrolling through, wondering where these stories would be, not wanting to type his name in, but maybe he has to. 
His fingers move to the search bar, typing in his name and fanfiction at the end of it. His eyes widen as he scrolls through, taking his time to read the many stories designed about him. He couldn’t believe his eyes at how people could bring incredible stories to life with just the idea of one person. He continues to scroll until one story catches his eye. 
‘I’m a sucker for you.’ He reads the title, humming as it begins to sound interesting as he reads the summary. He gasps, feeling his cock twitch at how descriptive it starts to get. His hand slowly slides down his body and underneath his trackies. 
You knelt on the ground, looking up at the blue-eyed man, feeling yourself throbbing between your legs as you watched him suck on the lollipop that you were previously sucking on. Your lips and tongue are stained a soft pink, and you whimper when Sebastian slowly drags the lolly from his mouth, making a popping sound and placing it into yours. “Suck, bunny. Be a good girl for Daddy.” 
Sebastian groans, stroking his cock up and down as he continues to read. His breath picks up. No other story had lived up to this one. He felt needy. He could feel sweat building and pre-cum leaking. He quickly blinked away the fuzziness building before his eyes, needing to read more.
You wrap your lips around the lollipop as Sebastian unbuckles his belt, slowly unzipping his pants. You suck hard on the cherry-flavoured lolly, moaning when your eyes land on his hardened member, drooling at the sight of the pre-cum leaking from his angry tip. “You going to be a good bunny and suck on daddy’s cock?” You nod, opening your mouth wider, allowing him to remove the lollipop, replacing it with his member. You moan, eyes slipping closed when the sweet flavour is mixed with his musky one, immediately becoming your new favourite flavour. 
Sebastian moans, squeezing his cock, picking up his pace. Tingles shoot through his body as he realises the thrill of this, imagining an imaginary woman on her knees for him, sucking his cock and worshipping him. No matter his fame, he could never find a woman to act like this for him. Be his little slut, his bunny. “Fuck!” He can’t stop his head from falling back, stroking his cock faster. He needs to stop because he wants to make it to the end of the story. Sebastian squeezes his base, swiping his thumb across his tip and shivering. “C’mon, don’t cum like a damn teenager.” His eyes move back to his phone.
Your head bobs back and forth on his cock, gagging and choking as you take as much of him as you can. Your tiny hands rest on his thighs, moaning as you feel him. Sebastian’s hands fall onto your head, assisting you. His cock twitches, thrusting into your throat, grunting and groaning at the feel of your mouth around his cock. You stare up at him with wide eyes, and your hand moves from his thighs, making its way to his heavy sacks, watching his breath hitch when you cup them. You caress them, softly tugging as you suck and slobber all over his thick member. 
Sebastian feels his orgasm quickly approaching, causing him to squeeze his cock and slam his eyes shut. He can’t, and he shouldn’t. This was so wrong but so good. He could imagine himself in the story and desperately wanted to be the man in the story. The story may have been written about who he is, but he was jealous. He wanted someone like Bunny to be here, be with him. Sebastian wanted to see how this would end. He needed to finish the story before he came. It had seemed that this was a series, and he wondered if it could get any more spicier. 
You continue to suck his cock, moaning when you feel him twitch in your mouth, filling it with thick spurts of his salty cum. You swallow all his goodness, sucking him dry and licking him clean. Your tongue swirls around his tip before you pull off with a pop. Sebastian strokes your head, smirking down at you with hooded eyes. “Good little bunny. Did so good for Daddy.” You whine, grinding against your foot, pouting up at him and opening your mouth when he grabs the lollipop again. You moan against it, sucking on it while he picks you up. “My bunny deserves a treat.”
Sebastian groans, thick amounts of cum spurting out of his swollen tip and all over his hand and sheets. His eyes roll to the back of his head, and his chest heaves up and down as he tries to catch his breath. “Jesus…” He looks back at his phone, eyes widening. “What?! That was the end!” He looks around, knowing this is a series, but there’s no link for part two. “C’mon… What…” He whines, clicking on the blog, feeling his cock twitch at the username, ‘ahornylittlebunny’. 
He scrolls down, checking to see if there is an update, and he lets out a sigh of relief when he sees a post you made that same day. Sebastian imagines how cute you must look when you type these stories out. He reads your words, fascinated.
‘hi, all! I know you’ve all been waiting for part two of I'm a sucker for you, and you’ll be happy to know that I'll be posting it later tonight!’ 
Sebastian licks his lips, knowing he must be present when you post the story. His fingers move fast, clicking your notifications and turning them on. He needed to see everything you posted. He spent the whole night reading everything you’ve written, smirking at the posts about him, saying if you ever met him, you’d instantly become his little slave. Your eyes widen slightly from the other side, watching your phone blow up with notifications of likes, comments, and reblogs from someone named ‘nottherealstan.’
Sebastian can slowly feel himself becoming obsessed, he doesn’t even know who you are, but he’s intrigued and wants you. His eyes light up when he gets a notification that part two has finally been posted, and he feels his cock harden, already leaking pre-cum. “Fuck, such a good bunny.” He growls, clicking the story and slipping his hand into his pants. He groans as he reads, never having read something so sexual before. The title perfectly describes everything for him. ‘beyond your wildest dreams’.
Sebastian slips between your legs as you sleep, groaning when your legs fall open, exposing your glistening cunt to his hungry gaze. He licks his lips, sliding his hands up and down your thighs, getting closer to the sweetest treasure he’s ever known. “Such a cute little bunny, so soft and sweet.” He nuzzles closer, creeping near your cunt. Sebastian slides his hands to your hips, gripping them and dragging you closer to his face. You whimper in your sleep as his tongue swipes against your folds, drinking your juices in and wrapping his lips around your swollen pearl, sucking it into his mouth. “Taste like a dream, bunny.” He groans into you.
Sebastian moans, gripping his cock and rapidly stroking it. He couldn’t get enough. He needed this to be true. But he didn’t just want anyone. He needed you. Sebastian reached down and began tugging his balls, twisting his wrist as he jerked himself. “Shit, bunny. You feel so good.” He slips his eyes closed, imagining you, a faceless woman wearing a cute little bunny costume, those little bunny ears and that fluffy bunny tail. He opens his eyes and continues to read, needing to finish. 
Sebastian pulls you flush against his face as he feasts on your juicy cunt, ravenously sucking on your swollen clit and thrusting his tongue into your tight hole. Your head moves side to side on the pillow, fingers curling into the sheets as Sebastian continues to eat you out like a man starved. You wake with a moan, your back arching as he pulls you even closer to his face, staring at you with those pretty blue eyes. Your toes curl, and your eyes roll to the back of your head as your juices squirt out of you and cover his face. “Oh god! Sebastian!!” You pant, sagging into the bed, clutching the pillow as you come down from your high.
Sebastian can’t help it. His toes curl, his balls tighten, cock twitches frantically as rapid amounts of cum spurt out of his mushroom tip, “Fuck! Shit!” He groans as he sinks back into the silk sheets, placing his phone down and wiping his forehead with the back of his hand before he reaches over and cleans himself. Never having cum so hard in his life, no one had ever made him feel like this. He felt like a teenager again, constantly jerking his cock and cumming. Sebastian picked his phone back up, reading the rest of the delicious story, making sure to reblog with the perfect response. 
‘Fantastic, just fantastic. I’ve never read something so delicious and captivating in my life, and I won’t lie I couldn’t help but touch myself when reading. This masterpiece made me cum twice. What I would do to make you my perfect little bunny.’ Sebastian smiled, sending it through.
Sebastian plugged his phone in and headed to the bathroom. He gets ready for bed, looking at himself in the mirror, and he can’t stop picturing the perfect little bunny beside him, also getting ready with him. Someone who admires him, worships him, and loves him. He shuts the light off, heads back over to his bed, gets under the blanket, and stares up at the ceiling, slowly blinking. He probably shouldn’t have downloaded Tumblr because now he has become obsessed with you. 
As Sebastian slowly falls asleep, he speaks. “Don’t worry, little bunny. I will find you and make you mine, bringing all of your little fantasies alive.” His cock stirs, imagining having you in his arms finally, your wide eyes staring up at him as you realise he’s found out your dirty little secret. 
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thank you for reading!
feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.
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bucksangel · 4 months
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don't worry, darling
pairing: avenger!bucky x civilian!reader
word count: 3.3k
summary: even though bucky is mostly healed, that doesn’t mean his nightmares go away. and a particular grueling mission brings back memories he’d rather forget. 
warnings: angsttttt, hella fluff at the end though, hurt/comfort, talk of bucky’s trauma and abuse, brief mentions of murder of a hydra agent (he deserves it), nightmares, reader is here to love and comfort bucky, also civil war and everything after didn’t happen and they all live at the tower and everything is fine bc i said so
a/n: even though this does not contain smut, my blog is 18+ so minors dni. also i wanted to write something short and sweet to get my creative juices flowing and yet, as always, i managed to go overboard
tip jar | masterlist
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It started with a whimper, a small one. Barely detectable if you weren’t already awake and snuggled against Bucky’s body. He’s lying on his side facing you with you mirroring his position, arms wrapped around each other and your head tucked into his chest. You’ve been having a hard time sleeping for the last week and a half due to Bucky being gone on a mission that didn’t allow him to contact you at all. Your restless nights were mostly due to worrying over your boyfriend’s safety, something you always do whenever he leaves. It was worse this time around, though.
It was a day before he was supposed to leave, and you knew you weren’t supposed to listen in on other people’s private conversations, but you just couldn’t help yourself. You’d come home early from work one day to find Steve and Bucky in your shared home office, stopping outside the door and getting ready to knock when you overheard something about an upcoming mission. It seemed pretty important so you decided not to interrupt them, though you couldn’t force yourself to walk away.
You’re never allowed to know anything about what Bucky’s missions entail, and some part of you wanted to listen in on their conversation to hopefully ease any worries about what might be happening to him since you’ll have a general idea of where they’re going and what they’re doing. 
According to Steve, although it was going to be a four-day mission, it was supposed to be relatively simple. Or, it would’ve been simple if it weren’t for the fact that the building they were being sent to scout was an old Hydra facility somewhere in Russia. The same Hydra facility where Bucky was held captive.
Upon hearing this piece of information you wanted to barge into the room and tell Steve off for letting Bucky be a part of this mission. It’s been nearly five years since he escaped and Bucky has mostly readjusted, has recovered from his trauma as much as one can after being tortured for decades. And you’ll be damned if anything jeopardizes that progress.
But you’d also overheard Bucky agreeing with the plans, helping Steve strategize, and going over all the information that needed to be obtained. And it wasn’t your place to tell Bucky what he could and couldn’t do. As much as you wanted to demand that he not go, he was his own person. And if he thought he could handle this mission then you’d have to find a way to support him.
The four-day mission turned into eight and by the sixth day with still no contact, you’d marched into the tower and demanded Fury call you with any and all updates he received. He said he would in a tone that made you believe he wouldn’t give you every detail, but it did help reassure you that if anything happened to Bucky then you wouldn’t be kept totally in the dark. It was nerve-wracking in the worst way, obsessively thinking over what Bucky could be going through - physically and mentally.
But on the eighth day, Fury had called you on your lunch break at work to tell you that Bucky was on his way back to the Tower and would probably be back at your apartment by early evening after the briefing and check-up in the medical wing.
All of your nerves and anxieties that built up over the last week were immediately replaced with relief flooding your body, your heart finally unclenching at knowing that Bucky would be back in a few short hours. One good thing about your job is that you don’t technically need to be in the office every day. As long as you get your work done you’re pretty much given free rein to leave whenever you want, and you’d finished your stack of paperwork maybe fifteen minutes before the phone call.
You gathered up your things quickly and stopped by your boss's office to wish her a good weekend, then made your way to your car to head home. Your heartbeat was increasing ever so slightly the closer you got to your apartment, and you had to remind yourself to focus on driving instead of daydreaming of being back in Bucky’s arms.
When you did finally get home, you made quick work of cleaning the entire apartment; changing your bed sheets, doing laundry, then pulling out food from the fridge to make dinner. You’d actually just gotten the chicken out of the oven when the front door opened, and your excitement at finally seeing your boyfriend again forced you to run out of the kitchen and down the hall. But you stopped a good six feet from the door, standing still at seeing Bucky’s bruised face and scabbed knuckles.
“Bucky?” You asked softly, finally noticing the spacey look in his eyes, the way they seemed to be glazed over.
Bucky smiled at you, though it was more of a grimace, and you could tell it was mostly forced but he still wanted to acknowledge you. He approached you slowly, and you stood still so you would not startle him - he just seemed so on edge. He stopped not even a foot away from you, had stared down at you with a look in his eyes you hoped you would never see again - it was such an empty gaze, almost emotionless. There was no life in his eyes. It didn’t feel like the dead gaze was directed at you specifically, it was more like Bucky just couldn’t muster up any emotion at all.
That’s when you knew. Something went wrong.
Slowly, he brought up his right hand and placed it on the back of your head, tilting it up so he could really look at you, letting his gaze linger on your lips. Instead of kissing them, he leans forward to press a kiss on your forehead, wrapping his left arm around your waist and pulling you into his chest. He didn’t speak as he slowly tucked you into his body, and you didn’t dare break the silence either, you simply wrapped your arms around his body as well, squeezing him tightly to let him know that you were there. You were there for him - physically, mentally, and emotionally, and you needed him to know that.
After maybe five minutes of no one speaking, of simply standing in the front hallway embracing each other, you decided to finally say something.
“I made dinner,” You whispered, running one of your hands up and down Bucky’s back. You pulled your head off of his chest but didn’t loosen your hold. “Chicken and mashed potatoes. I even made apple pie.”
Bucky’s mouth twitched again, and his attempted smile felt a little more genuine this time. His glassy eyes were filled with tears now, and he seemed oh so close to crying. You’d never seen him like this before, he was always happy, and smiling, even on days when he wouldn’t say it but you knew he still resented himself for his time as the soldier he would indulge in his hobbies to help him cope. But you’ve never seen him shut down before, and this is what this felt like.
You weren’t too sure how to help him, how to comfort him. But you had an inkling he might need some time to himself.
“How about you go shower and I can put the food away for later,” You said with a soft smile, speaking up again before Bucky had the chance to feel guilty, “I ate a couple of hours ago, I’m fine baby. Go shower.”
You lifted up on your toes and placed a soft kiss on his cheek, letting him squeeze you to his chest one more time before he released you, slumping off down the hall to the bathroom.
That was two days ago, and Bucky hasn’t spoken more than a few words at a time since. Now, it’s not like he’s avoiding you, he’s actually a little more clingy than he normally is. You can tell he wants to say something, to tell you what had happened, he just doesn’t know how. He hasn’t told you everything about what happened to him during his time as the soldier, but you know enough and don’t push him to say anything he doesn’t want to.
At night, Bucky will go out onto the small terrace outside of your apartment and stare up at the stars for hours. You don’t sit with him for all of it, just for about one hour - cuddled close to his body and talking softly and mindlessly about anything you can think of, anything that might help Bucky open up. Then, around nine or ten, you’ll give him a lingering kiss on his cheek, one on his temple, and one final kiss on his lips before going to bed, letting Bucky be alone with himself and his thoughts.
Tonight, though, Bucky’s decided to climb into bed with you soon after dinner. You both showered together, washing each other’s bodies and sharing a few lingering kisses under the spray of the shower head. You didn’t go any further, but you did make sure to spend extra time massaging his shoulders and back, placing kisses everywhere you could reach.
It’s one in the morning now, and you hear another whimper. Bucky shifts beside you, tightening his hold on you ever so slightly. Another whine. 
“Bucky?” You whisper, careful to not disturb the silence too much.
He responds with a mumbled ‘please’. Then, ‘no’.
“Buck? Baby?” You say a little louder, shifting in his hold but not able to move much due to his arms being wound around your body.
He shudders, pulling you further into him as his breathing picks up. He’s having a nightmare. Now, despite him being mostly healed, he still does have nightmares. They’ve lessened over the years, but they never truly go away.
When he’s in this mindset, you’re careful not to move too much and startle him awake. So, you simply shimmy your arm from under one of his so you can push on his chest and gently ease him onto his back. It takes a little more force than you’d like, but you’re eventually able to lay him flat on his back and untangle your body from his.
“Baby?” You whisper a little louder, placing your hand on the side of his face and rubbing your thumb along his cheekbone. “Bucky.”
He groans; louder, desperate. He’s in pain. You run your hand down his face, down his neck, then land on his chest, right above his heart. It’s increased rapidly, and you can see beads of sweat coat his forehead.
“Bucky.” Your voice is pleading, and you push on his chest a little, now hoping to startle him awake before it gets worse. You don’t want to keep him in this nightmare, so you shake him again.
“Bu-” You’re stopped short by him gasping, his eyes shooting open and his body lifting off the bed slightly as he wakes up. Relief fills your body, and you sigh gratefully. You hate when he’s in pain, whether physical or mental, but you hate not being able to do anything about it even more.
Bucky doesn’t move right away, he squeezes his eyes closed and clenches his fists momentarily. Then, when you place your hand on his cheek, his whole body goes limp, relaxing into the sheets under your touch.
“Baby,” He whispers hoarsely. “I…” He chokes back a sob, and you’re quick to adjust yourselves so you’re laying on your back and he’s laying almost entirely on top of you with his head on your chest right above your heart. He starts crying then, really crying. His arms wrap themselves around your midsection, and you wrap yours around his body as well, cradling him close to you.
“It’s okay, darling. It’s okay, you’re okay,” You mumble into his ear, pressing kisses anywhere you can reach. You continue cooing at him, whispering reassurances and declarations of love until his cries taper off into small whimpers and sniffles. You’re really worried now. Yeah, Bucky isn’t shy about expressing his emotions, and you’ve held him after nightmares and through the aftermath of difficult missions when he comes home disheartened. But he’s never been so vulnerable, and you want nothing more than to hold him close and protect him from everything bad in the world.
Silence envelops the both of you for a while. You want to allow Bucky to speak when he’s ready. And he does so after a couple of minutes.
“There was an agent; Alix, I think. I - I don’t remember his last name, but…” Bucky pauses, and you take the opportunity to place a kiss on his forehead. “For the last five or so years of me being… him, Alix was there. He’d… Any time I failed a mission, he’d be there. Out of all the Hydra agents that I’ve ever come in contact with… his punishments were the worst.”  He pauses again, sniffling softly and nuzzling his face into your chest.
“I’m so sorry, darling,” You whisper, bringing your hand up to his hair so you can run your fingers through his locks. Bucky shakes his head softly, pressing a kiss to your collarbone.
“He was there. When Steve, Natasha, and I went to the facility last week, Alix was there. And he… I don’t know. I saw him and I just went blank, my mind shut off. I know I promised I wouldn’t kill anymore, I know. I just… He just hurt me so fucking much.”
Bucky starts crying again, and you have to force yourself not to cry as well. You want to be here to support him, not break down as well because then he’ll feel guilty. He always says you’re one of the most important people in his life - Steve obviously being another one - and that seeing you cry makes him want to go feral on whoever or whatever made you sad.
“I had to,” he says, muffled by his face tucking into your neck. “I just. I couldn’t not. I thought I was ready, I thought I could go there and be okay. But I wasn’t. I… He broke me.” Bucky trails off, sighing heavily before he goes quiet again, giving you time to process this information.
“Baby,” You say, prompting Bucky to hum in acknowledgment. “Can you look at me, please?”
You know it takes a lot of effort, but he does. Bucky lifts his head from your neck, looking into your eyes with overwhelming sorrow. Bending your head, you place a quick kiss on his lips.
“This might sound odd, but I’m proud of you. You thought you were healed enough to do it, you went through the planning and probably had to hype yourself up a lot to even agree to the mission. And that’s immense progress. The fact that you even felt ready, even if you ultimately weren’t, you pushed through it and finished the mission. And that’s something to be celebrated. Sometimes recovery can be set back by certain events, but that doesn’t mean that everything else you’ve accomplished is set back as well. You tried, and I’m proud of you.”
With that said, you give Bucky another kiss, lingering a little longer this time before pulling back and holding his gaze.
“And I know you promised to not kill anyone, but I don’t blame you in this situation. I don’t know what this says about me, but even though I don’t know exactly how you killed him, and I don’t think I want to honestly, I do know he deserved far worse than what you gave him. He’s just lucky I wasn’t there because I genuinely don’t know what I would have done if I saw him.”
Bucky’s mouth forms into the smallest of smiles, and you can’t help but want to burn the world to the ground if it means he was protected from the harm it brought him.
“I know you’re the man, and that, stereotypically, men are supposed to be the protector, the provider, but you also deserve to be protected, to have everything you could ever want. And I want to give that to you. I know you are your own person and you do a damn well job of taking care of yourself, but I also want to take care of you. I want to protect you from everything bad, everything that’s ever harmed you, and everything that could potentially harm you in the future.”
You place a kiss on his forehead, squeezing the arm that’s around his upper back to hug him tighter to you.
“You’re the love of my life, baby. Now and forever.”
Bucky shudders slightly, leaning up to kiss your jaw, then one to your cheek, one on the corner of your mouth, and one final kiss to your lips. Your hand continues to run through his hair, tugging at it slightly, causing your boyfriend to sigh in contentment and tighten his hold on you as well. You’re locked in the embrace for a long moment, his lips gliding over yours as the kiss remains relatively chaste. But then, he pulls away.
“Darling,” He says, and for the first time in two days, he finally looks like he’s getting back to his old self. “I - I don’t think I’m ready to talk about everything that happened during the mission right now, I kind of just want to hear you talk so I can get my mind off of it for a little if that’s okay?” He looks a bit nervous asking for that, but you’re quick to nod, offering him a smile of your own. Bucky smiles a tad bit wider and removes one of his arms from around your body so he can slowly reach up and take hold of your hand that’s still running through his hair. Stubble tickles your palm as Bucky presses his lips there, then turns his gaze up to look into your eyes.
“I can’t even describe how much I love you. It scares me, sometimes, the things I would do for you. I need you to know that I will do everything I can to make you as happy and safe as you make me. You’re just… you’re incredible. And I can’t thank you enough for how much you’ve helped me over the past two years that we’ve been together, even the entire year before we started dating when we were just friends.”
His eyes start watering for a whole other reason now. Bucky looks so damn in love that you’d think it hurt, and you would know because that’s exactly how you feel about him.
“I - I know we haven’t talked about it, and I don’t even have a ring, but I can’t ever imagine loving anyone as much as I love you. I’m devoted to you, now and forever. I don’t know how you feel, but if you’re ever willing to…” He pauses, and you feel your heartbeat increase rapidly, a sudden happiness flooding your body.
“If I were to one day ask you to marry me, would you say yes?”
You’ve never nodded faster in your life, nor have you ever said ‘yes’ so quickly to anything Bucky has asked.
The large sigh of relief your boyfriend lets out lets you know he’s probably been thinking about this for a while, and you would swear your heart is about to burst from how much you love this man as you hold him close to your chest and place absentminded kisses on his forehead, cheeks, lips, the top of his head.
Everything stays silent for a few minutes, letting the conversation taper off. That is, until Bucky puts his head back on your shoulder, lacing his fingers with yours and bringing your hands up to kiss your knuckles.
“Can you talk to me?”
Humming in agreement, you run your hand that’s still on his back up and down in a soothing motion.
“Do you want to hear about how Sam almost broke his arm last week?”
569 notes · View notes
rafeandonlyrafe · 3 months
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mean daddy
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words: 600
warnings: 18+ only, daddy kink!, p in v sex, unprotected sex, like really short cockwarming?, dom/sub dynamic, degradation, male receiving oral
“what is it, bun?” rafe asks, rubbing his hand over your lower back as you snuggle into him, head tucked into his neck.
“want more cock.” you mumble, keeping your voice quiet, knowing that rafe is about to make fun of you.
“more cock?” rafe rolls his eyes. “jesus, kiddo.”
“pleeeease daddy.” you whine, pushing your hips into his slightly, not enough for rafe to get angry but enough to give you a little bit of stimulation. 
“no.” rafe shakes his head. “i decide when you get more. don't be a nasty slut.”
“just want you so bad, please.” you whine, pressing your lips to his neck, hoping it entices him into taking you.
“you're so disgusting.” rafe scoffs. “can't believe my beautiful good girl is now such a total whore.”
“just put it in me, please.” you grip rafes shirt in your hands. “just let me sit on it for a minute.”
“you'll be happy with a minute?” rafe raises his eyebrows, pushing at your shoulders so you have to sit up straight. “will stop being a whiny brat then?”
“mhm!” you nod happily. “just one minute on your cock, please.”
“fine, you get your cunnie filled for one minute then you get off and leave me alone.”
“daddy.” you whine. “don't be mean.”
“ive got shit to get done, hurry up.” rafe tugs his pants down enough to pull his dick out, already hard from the moment you asked for his cock.
“thank you daddy!” you squeal, quickly tugging your underwear down, not even bothering to take off your skirt as you sink down on his cock, letting out a moan at finally getting it inside of you. you push immediately down, wrapping your arms around rafes shoulders.
“a minute, slut.” rafe says. “and then i get back to my work.”
“yes daddy.” you moan, eyes closing as you enjoy having rafe filling you up, being truly connected.
you feel like you've barely been on him for a second before rafe taps your hip. “up.”
“that wasn't a minute!” you argue.
rafe frowns at your attitude, having been slightly bratty all day, but this was a step too far. he lifts your short skirt to smack his hand over your ass, making you yelp.
“you don't argue with your daddy, do you?” rafe questions, giving you another spanking. “you've been begging for my cock too much, i think you'll need to go a week without it.”
rafe tugs you off, placing your cunt on his thigh, suddenly feeling empty.
“no, daddy, please.” you whine, leaning forward to grip his cock, both hands stroking up and down, hoping that it makes him change his mind. “ill be so good, promise.”
“you will be good, because if you're not ill make it two weeks.” rafe grabs his laptop, opening it back up.
“don't you wanna cum?” you question. “you can cum in my cunnie and then the punishment can start.”
“you're not gonna trick me, doll.” rafe scoffs. “on your knees.”
you move off rafes thigh, a wet spot left on his khakis. rafes legs spread so you can get close in between.
“put it in your mouth if you're so desperate for cock.” rafe says. you nod enthusiastically and lean forward, swallowing his cock in one go just like rafe taught you, pushing down until your nose is nuzzling into his skin, throat constricting as you try your best not to cough or gag.
“good, now stay just like that while daddy gets to work.” rafe places the laptop on the back of your head, forcing you not just to keep his cock down your throat but also still enough to not interrupt his typing.
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nr1chaedickrider · 18 days
Text
I can only be me when i'm by your side - i'm not a monster.
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As time passes recovering, you've seemed to found your place in Jihyo's arms.
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cw: fluff, smut, angst, petnames, virgin!reader, sweet girl!jihyo, popular but not so popular!jihyo, basketball player!jihyo, both are 18 but they are students, mentions of death, drunk confessions, they fall in love pretty fast, lwk rushed, lmk if there is more ^_^, ~ 4k words
if you're thinking "hm! i read this fic somewhere... yes! its my heeseung fic from my bg blog @adorwoo ! which i wanted to use for jihyo !^_^ hope you enjoy anyway.
men dni.
It's not your fault.
It's not your fault.
It's not your fault.
It's not your...
Is it really?
The rain beats down on your black umbrella, the lines from Dahyun's letter playing over and over in your head. It feels like you're trapped in a vicious cycle, not being able to think of anything else.
But why?
Why didn't she tell you?
Were all those conversations about the mutual trust between you two a lie? Was it just talk to keep you from worrying?
If someone had told you a week ago that you had to be at her funeral because she had killed herself, you would have laughed at that person. Dahyun was always the happiest person you've ever met.
Even if you had been told that a day ago, you wouldn't have believed it. Because in theory, it's the stupidest thing you've ever heard.
In his letter, she wrote about how much she loved you, how she enjoyed every minute and every moment with you, how it's not your fault that she's not here anymore.
She's probably right, not just probably. She's right, and you know it. But you can't stop blaming yourself. Someone has to take the blame. Someone is responsible.
You could have helped her.
You should have helped her.
Tears run down your cheeks as you stare at her grave. Her family, her friends, they are all gone. You stand here alone, not daring to leave.
'Kim Dahyun
Born on may 28, 1998.
A friend, daughter and lover.
She will continue to live in our souls.'
It feels like your eyes are glued to the writing, you can't look away. You try to regulate your breathing, taking a deep breath.
A sigh leaves your mouth as you place the white rose next to the gravestone.
You take one last look at her grave before turning and slowly walking away.
-
"I'm Y/n, nice to meet you all."
You look at the students in front of you, all of them giving you strange looks. Of course, you are a new student, but you feel uncomfortable under their gaze. The teacher smiles at you and tells you where to sit, next to a girl called Mina.
It's as if everyone has forgotten about you again as the teacher starts teaching. You sit down next to Mina and she smiles at you.
"Nice to meet you," she whispers. You smile at her.
You can't talk to her for long because she starts taking notes for the lesson. You look around at the faces of the others. It actually looks like a normal class, but your eyes land on a girl.
She looks shorter than you, her hair is brown as well as her eyes. She's wearing a white t-shirt.
"Have you laid your eye on someone?" asks Mina, laughing a little.
"No!" you answer, a little too loudly, and you put your head on the table as a few people look at you. "I was just looking at her," you whisper.
"Yeah yeah... that's what they all say" she says.
You slowly lose yourself in your thoughts as memories of Dahyun come flooding back.
Should you even look at other girls? Is it bad?
Would Dahyun hate you for trying to find love again?
It's been more than two months since she died, but you can't stop thinking about her.
Maybe it's normal, your behavior. Your overthinking of everything, maybe you're not the only person who feels this way? Maybe there is someone else who is just as lost in their thoughts as you are.
Maybe you are simply not alone.
However, your thoughts are interrupted by the bell and Mina.
"I can show you a few things here at school if you want," she suggests, and you gratefully accept her help.
You spend the whole lunch break running after her while she shows you around.
"Why did you change schools anyway? Your old one is a pretty well-known one, and much better than here," she asks, before taking a bite of her sandwich.
The question makes you wonder, and you think about whether you should just lie to her and say that you moved, or that you were somehow bullied at your school - but somehow it feels wrong. Because you neither moved nor were you bullied. No, everything was actually fine.
Actually,
Somehow everything changed after her death.
Your classmates started looking at you funny, and you still don't know whether they are looks of pity or looks of condemnation because they blame you.
"I don't know" is your answer, and somehow it's true. Sometimes you really have no idea why you changed schools, but Mina doesn't need to know the whole truth.
She just nods in response as she continues to eat.
"The girl you were looking at in English, her name is Jihyo by the way" she says.
What?
"Why are you telling me this?" you ask.
"Because you were staring at her a lot - you looked really interested in her" she replies with a little grin.
"How many times do I have to tell you, I wasn't staring at her..." you laugh a little, but can't hide your despair. Why does she think you're interested in her?
-
"Watch out!" someone shouts, but before you can react, a basketball hits you.
You fall to the floor, your head hurts and you feel slightly dizzy as you slowly open your eyes.
The girl from your English class is kneeling on the floor in front of you, looking at you, trying to see if you're okay.
It's like a cliché high school movie.
"Are you okay?" she asks, a couple of other girls come over, but she just tells them to get something to cool off and shoos them away.
The things that can happen when you want to visit the gym...
You nod slowly, after a few blinks your vision is no longer blurry.
Another girl comes back and hands Jihyo a cold pack.
"Here, take this," she says and puts it in your hand, her hand on your shoulder to support you.
You hold it to your head, biting the inside of your cheek slightly from the cold.
Before she can say anything else, she is called by his coach, at the same moment Mina comes to you.
"I was looking for you," she says and helps you up.
You watch Jihyo jogging across the field before you leave the gym.
-
New week, new luck?
Every day you tried desperately to talk to Jihyo somehow, but suddenly she was always gone after class and you were never put in a group together.
But it looks like luck is on your side for once.
"Here's the list of groups, you have to give a presentation in pairs on a play of your choice," your English teacher announces.
You look at the picture projected on the wall.
Chaeyoung and Mina,
Sana and Miyeon,
Jihyo and Y/n,
Jeongyeon and...
Wait, what?
You read the list again and once more you see your name and Jihyo's name next to each other.
"Jihyo and Y/n," you say quietly.
"Are you happy?" Mina asks teasingly with a grin on her lips.
"Are you happy that you have to work with Chaeyoung?" you ask back - Mina doesn't answer.
Before your teacher can give you any more homework for the break, the school bell rings and everyone rushes out of the classroom.
You walk (or rather, run) to Jihyo who is packing her things away.
"Hey, I was wondering when we should meet," you say, and she looks up at you and smiles. You feel your cheeks turning red.
She puts on his backpack and stands up.
"How about Friday afternoon? My place?" she suggests and you nod.
She takes a pen from her pocket, "Give me your hand," she says, you are confused but do it anyway.
She opens the pen with her mouth, the cap between her teeth as she gently writes on your hand.
Her phone number.
It feels like she's giving you an autograph.
"Text me and I'll send you my address," she says, and before you can answer, she walks out of the room.
You look down at your hand and see a little smiley face next to her number.
You can't help but giggle as you look at it.
-
You stare at your phone - up to her front door and back down to your phone.
You are 10 minutes early and don't dare to ring the doorbell.
"You know you can just ring the bell?" someone asks you, you look up and see Jihyo smiling at you.
"I'm early, that's why-"
"Not a problem," she interrupts you.
She lets you in and closes the door behind her.
Her house is beautiful, modern and yet somehow old-fashioned.
"My parents aren't here, so I thought we could study in the living room," she says, and you nod, leaning your backpack against the table.
"Water?" she asks and you take it gratefully.
You drink a little before she sits down across from you.
You both leaf through the books, take notes, talk briefly about certain passages, but otherwise no one says anything.
Jihyo decides to break the awkward atmosphere.
"I wanted to apologize again, for the basketball," she says, and you laugh a little.
"You don't have to apologize, things like that can happen," you reply.
"Have you ever had a girlfriend?" she asks, and instead of answering, you are completely silent, thinking.
Memories of Dahyun come back while Jihyo looks at you and waits for your answer.
"Yes, I did, but she died a few months ago," you answer.
She nods slightly, "Can I ask how he died?" she asks in a quiet, polite tone, as if she really wants to make sure that she's asking something that doesn't hurt you in any way.
"Suicide," you say, short and meager, without many details (whether you know many details at all is another question).
She looks at you with a supportive look, one that makes you feel like she's really listening and that she really understands you.
Maybe she understands you even more than you think?
She puts her hand on yours with a slight smile.
"Thank you for confiding in me," she says, your cheeks slightly flushed, hers too.
You both look at each other for a moment before she lets go and you both go back to work.
-
If only the work had gone on for longer.
After the one meeting, you saw her every day of the vacation. Always with the excuse that you supposedly "need to add something" (does going to the movies together add something to your project?).
It's been more than a week since you first met.
"You're in love," Mina says as she parks her car in front of Jihyo's house.
"I-"
"Don't even try to find an excuse, it's all good" she replies with a small grin.
You both get out of the car and walk to her house, the music so loud you can hear it several meters away.
How Jihyo, who is slightly drunk, hears the doorbell is also a mystery to you.
"Hey guys!" she greets you, she shakes Mina's hand and gives her a kind of high five, she gives you a hug.
You smile at her as the three of you walk into the living room.
"I'm going to Chaeyoung," Mina whispers, or rather shouts, in your ear before disappearing.
"Y/n, do you want to play a drinking game with us?" asks Jihyo, you nod.
Maybe it was a stupid decision.
Jihyo and her friends (of whom you only know Jeongyeon) only understand drinking games to mean taking shots and asking stupid questions.
Either answer - or drink.
You always chose the second option.
After about 7 questions (maybe more, maybe less - you lost count of that pretty fast) you get up and say that you need some fresh air.
Since you've been to her house several times, you know where the upstairs balcony is.
It's quite big, with a parasol and two folding chairs. You sit down on one and close your eyes, your head throbs a little.
"Are you okay?" someone asks after a few minutes.
To your surprise (not really a surprise), Jihyo stands next to you before sitting down on the chair to your right.
"Yeah, it's just the alcohol," you say.
You and alcohol, not really a good combination.
Especially not when you're sitting next to the girl you're in love with.
"Do you have a girlfriend?" you ask out of nowhere.
She shakes his head, "I thought it was obvious" she says and laughs a little.
"I love you" you confess.
She turns to you, but before he can answer anything, you keep talking.
"I know we haven't known each other that long... a month?? more? less? but-... I just have this feeling with you that I only used to have with her"
"I thought I'd never feel it again," you say, a tear running down your cheek.
Jihyo looks at you, her eyes slightly watery.
Is she crying too?
"Y/n" she says, interrupting your continued rambling.
She gets up, kneels down in front of your chair, and -
kisses you.
Her soft lips on yours.
She pulls away after just a few seconds and you already feel like you miss her lips.
"I love you too Y/n" she says softly.
You look at her in amazement.
"Really?" you ask.
"That's why I asked if you had a girlfriend" now it all makes so much more sense.
She pulls you up and takes you to the guest room. She tries to lay you down on the bed but you pull her with you and she falls on top of you.
You both stare at each other and laugh a little.
"You're drunk, get some rest," she says, kissing your forehead.
"I'll be here when you wake up"
-
And she really is next to you when you wake up.
"Good morning..." you groan as you rub your eyes.
She smiles at you, "good morning" she says, from the look on her face you suspect she woke up just a few minutes before you.
You pull her closer to you by her collar and kiss her, she kisses you back while her hand is on your cheek.
The kiss is just perfect, gentle, slow, a perfect way to start his morning.
But it can also be perfect in another way.
It gets warmer under the covers as you continue kissing, she kisses down your jaw to your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses on it. You can't help but rub your thighs together a little.
"What about the others?" you ask.
"I kicked them out yesterday after you fell asleep" she says, continuing to kiss your neck, even nibbling on it, making you let out soft moans.
"Jihyo, I think you should know that I am a virgin" you say, your cheeks heating up a little in embarrassment.
She giggles a little, kissing you on the lips again.
"Nothing to be embarrassed about baby" she replies with a smile.
She gets on top of you, continuing to kiss you.
You think kissing Jihyo is the best thing in the world.
Her hands trail over your body, giving you a soft squeeze here and there.
"Can I?" she asks, her hand playing with the buttons on your pants.
"Please" you answer with a smile.
She complies and opens them, pulling off your pants and leaving you in your underwear.
You sit up a little, your hands on her waist, feeling up her muscles, especially her abs.
"Want me to take it off?" she asks, you nod.
She pulls off her shirt over her head, dropping it somewhere on the floor.
Your finger trails up his stomach to her bra, looking at her like she is a work of art (she definetly is one).
"Done admiring me?" she asks with a teasing grin, to which you reply "never".
She leans down again, kissing your face as she starts to trail them down till he arrives at the waistband of your underwear.
"Can I?" she asks again, "yes" you answer, already out of breath.
She takes your underwear off, her hands placed on your thighs as she leaves kisses everywhere.
You can definetly tell that she has a thing for kissing.
When she places a kiss right on your clit though, you let out a small moan.
She begins licking and sucking on it, making you grab her hair with your hands as your fingers curl deeper into her scalp, leaving a delicious burn.
She drags her tongue down as she circles your core, slowly entering it a little.
You let out more moans as you turn your head to the side, moaning into the pillow.
Her tongue feels so good when you realise that you are closer and closer to your climax.
"Jihyo- I think I'm gonna-"
"Let it out princess" she mumbles against your core, the vibrations of her voice stimulating you even more as you cum into her mouth.
She smiles at you as he sits up, watching you coming down from your high.
You smile back at him as your cheeks turn red again.
"Can I?" she asks, her fingers trailing down your soft skin as her nails scratch you a little.
You look at her hand, a few veins poking out, her fingers thin but long.
You look at her again, nodding.
You pulled her closer as she rubs your clit with her fingers, you suck in your breath as she slowly pushes them in, the little stretch burning in a way that makes you even hornier.
She slips them in completly, you let out a moan in response. She takes your hand with her free one as your fingers intertwine.
She starts to slowly thrust into you, kissing you again as her tongue explores your mouth.
"You're so tight baby.." she mumbles into your mouth.
You can't help but let out louder moans when she starts to speed up a little.
Her fingers drive you crazy, it feels like she is everywhere, you feel her everywhere in your body as she exits and enters you.
"P-please jihyo- faster" you moan out, and who would she be if she wouldn't listen to your wishes?
She speeds up her thrusts, kissing down your neck again as her hot breath hits your skin.
Your hand grips the pillow your hand is laying on, moaning against your arm as you can feel Jihyo curling her fingers.
She thrusts into you again before you moan loudly, cumming as your thighs close around her wrist, panting heavily as she lets herself fall onto the spot next to you.
You both stare at the ceiling, the only sounds the heavy breathing from you.
You move her hand to yours and intertwine your fingers. She moves her head to the side to look at you, smiling.
You think seeing her smiling is something you can never get enough of.
-
Idiots in love, thats how you two can be described.
The next few months were full of love. Kisses here, kisses there. It didn't even have to be sexual, no, it was always romantic, no matter what you did together.
After a few months, she gave you a ring.
"One day I'll buy you an expensive, real diamond ring and ask you to marry me," she said, and since then you've both worn the matching rings without taking them off once.
If only it had stayed that way.
It's late at night, you're lying in bed reading a book when you get a message.
"I love you,
I'm sorry" - from Jihyo.
You sit up and stare at your cell phone.
"What's wrong?" you type and send the message, she replies,
"I can't take it anymore"
She can't take it anymore?
You feel a twinge in your head as you suddenly realize something.
It's too similar to Dahyun's goodbye.
"I can't live in this world anymore" she wrote in her text.
You look at her location, and without hesitation you walk, no - storm out of your apartment and run to her.
She's not far away, a bridge situated over a river only 5 minutes away, and you think you've never been so grateful for anything.
You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to see anything while your clothes get wetter and wetter, the rain completly drenches you.
Again it feels like a cliché love drama.
Only maybe this time you have the chance to have a happy ending.
Your legs are burning from all the running as you arrive on the bridge.
"Jihyo!" you shout, the rain pattering loudly on the asphalt, forcing you to shout even louder for her.
Her bike is right next to her, one leg over the railing, her hands gripping it tightly, as if she's...
Scared?
"Y/n?" she answers, her voice low and shaky.
"Please..." you say as you walk slowly towards her.
She doesn't stop you when you take her hand in yours.
"Why didn't you tell me?" you ask, she looks at you as a tear runs down her cheek.
"I-... I didn't want you to worry. I thought this feeling would go away if I didn't talk to anyone about it," she says.
Whether your face is wet from the rain or your tears, you don't know.
"Believe me, you have to talk to me, then it will get better," you say.
Her face comes closer to yours and, without answering, she kisses you.
You kiss her back, try to grab her so you can hold her closer - but she lets go.
Completely.
You slowly open your eyes, afraid of what you will see - but you see nothing.
No one.
The rain completely overwhelms you.
"No..." you whisper, looking down on the floor and picking up something shiny.
Her ring.
You look out over the railing and see the water turning slightly red.
It feels like you're trapped in a vicious circle, like you'll never find peace again.
You are trapped, with no way out.
-
While other people find the rain soothing, you find it to be more like torture.
While other people would stay indoors in weather like this, you're outside again.
Again in front of a grave.
But this time it's Jihyo's.
Everything feels too similar and you hate it more than anything.
"It's not your fault" is a sentence you started to hate.
You hoped so much that you would never have to hear or read it again.
"Why didn't you talk to me..." you whisper, as if she could hear you.
Your hand clutches the letter, it slowly getting soaked by the rain.
You don't dare to move.
"You knew what happened..."
All time does is passing -
"Why did you hide it from me..." Your voice is full of despair.
And all you ever do is grieve.
"Life without you is no way to live" the white flower falls on his grave -
just like her ring,
engraved with your name.
She helped you recover from Dahyun's death.
You just wish you wouldn't have to recover over her death alone now.
In another universe, you've seemed to found your place in Jihyo's arms.
In this universe, you're left alone,
again.
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kujousgf · 9 months
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spoiled brat ! mdni. 18+.
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pairings natasha romanoff × fem ! reader, slight carol danvers × reader
synopsis natasha can't believe you're the partner she got stuck with for the class project
content warnings college student! natasha, jealousy, mentions of violence (affectionate), alcohol, dom! top!natasha, sub!bottom!afab!reader, fingering (r receiving), reader is feminine !
wc 3.1kish
a/n: this is a repost of a fic from my old blog that i rly loved !
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Natasha wouldn't say she was unimpressed when the professor started listing off the pairs for their latest project and she heard the name Y/N after her own, but she wasn't exactly happy with who her partner was either. Now, she’d never actually spoken to you before, but from what she'd heard you were the epitome of a spoiled brat.
Apparently, you're friends with Yelena’s… girlfriend? If that's what Kate was, she wasn't sure. But Yelena had told her that you and Kate make a great pair… which makes her dread the weeks to come with this project. She fakes a smile when she sees you walking over, trying not to seem so annoyed with the pairing.
But that was about two weeks ago, and after spending some time with you she can absolutely confirm that you are a brat and that you never shut up. You're such a brat, in fact, Natasha just wants to punch that pretty face of yours and have you—
“Tasha, pay attention to me.” Your whiny voice cuts through her thoughts and she blinks, looking over at you as you sit on your bed. Right, she's in your room and you're still here. “I’m trying to get some work done on the project you're supposed to be helping me with.” She says flatly, turning her head and looking at you from where she's sitting at your desk.
“You're so boring, who cares about the stupid project? Let's just go shopping or something.” You pout and Natasha curses a bit under her breath, wishes she could just shut you up for a little bit. And then she's standing up before she can stop herself and walking across the relatively large bedroom.
You grin when you see the older woman get up, “See, I knew you didn't want to do that stupid–” You're stopped mid sentence and your eyes go wide when Natasha grabs your face, squeezing your cheeks. “You've been nothing but an insufferable brat for the past two weeks and now that I'm finally getting some work done, you can't shut up for five seconds?”
Your breath catches in your throat and your cheeks heat up, and not just from the grip Natasha has on you. Has she always been this attractive? I mean, of course she has, you don't whine for just anybody's attention.
“What? Nothing to say? Are you finally going to shut up and be a good girl?” Natasha doesn't really know what she's doing, acting without thinking for sure, but her worries are pushed down when she feels a meek nod from you “Good girl.” She relaxes her grip and pats your cheek, looking down into your dazed eyes before smiling and starting to walk away.
“Wha– Where are you going?” You blink, snapping out of your dazed state when you can no longer feel the warmth from Natasha's hand on your cheek. “I’m going to work on the project, what else would I be doing? It’s due in three days, you know.” Natasha responds as if nothing happened and sits back down at the desk on the other side of the room.
“Oh.. right.” You nod, smoothing out your skirt and attempting not to seem so disappointed. You busy yourself with your phone, texting Kate and telling her to swear she won’t tell anyone about what just happened.
It’s embarrassing how Natasha is all you can think about for the next couple of days, even when Kate is talking your ear off about Yelena all you can think about is how you wish Natasha would take you on a date. Wait… You wish Natasha would take you on a date?
The realization makes the tips of your ears turn red and you almost choke on the milkshake you're drinking. You thought you were just attracted to Natasha, not interested in her romantically. And yeah, even before you got paired up for the project the older woman caught your eye, and maybe it made you a little angry when you saw some of your other classmates blatantly flirting with Natasha, but you figured that was just because you were an attention whore and wanted the attention for yourself! Not that it had anything to do with actually liking Natasha.
You groan and drop your head down onto the table dramatically. “Uh... Babe?” Your head lifts up at Kate’s words and you exhale loudly, perhaps a bit more dramatically than necessary, “I think I have a crush on Natasha.”
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That is how you found herself here, at a party Yelenda was throwing in one of the skimpiest outfits you've ever worn because Kate swears she knows what Natasha likes, courtesy of asking Yelena, and ‘this will make her go crazy in the best way possible’. You've gotten a lot of attention so far this evening and none of it has been from Natasha, you're starting to think Kate was lying to you.
The short skirt barely covers your ass and all you've gotten so far were sleazy comments from the few guys that showed up to the party. Natasha barely even said hi to you when she arrived, just dismissively said she submitted the project file before walking off somewhere. You sigh, walking off to see if you can find Natasha anywhere, maybe she'll talk to you if she's cornered.
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When Yelena texted her saying she had a present for her waiting at her house, the last thing Natasha expected to see was you in the shortest skirt she’s ever seen, looking like she was just begging to be bent over and—
Ah, she really shouldn’t be thinking that right now. Her favorite beer, perhaps, but not you.
She knew she would regret telling Yelena what happened, it was her fault for thinking she wouldn’t somehow meddle in things. Now, she had to avoid you for the whole night while also trying not to hurt your feelings. Great, sounds like it’ll be a fun night. And Gods, she wished she didn't care about your feelings.
It’s not like she didn’t want to see you, she did, she just didn’t know if she could control herself around you and for how long. You hadn’t seen each other since that day because Natasha just finished the rest of the project herself and put your name on it. The prof didn’t have to know Natasha did it all herself.
Right now, Natasha is standing in the kitchen talking to Yelena, beer in hand because there’s no way she’s going to make it through tonight completely sober. “Is she fucking insane?” She practically hisses, “I can practically see her ass is that. Everyone can.”
Yelena shrugs in response, “She seemed pretty excited to wear it. Maybe you should go tell her to change. Tell her it makes you jealous.” She teases, laughing at her sister who is clearly extremely infatuated with someone she previously claimed to hate.
Natasha rolls her eyes, ”Is that Kate talking to some guy over there?” She says, laughing when it immediately makes Yelena leave. She sips on the beer, leaning against the island and observing the party. Weird, she doesn’t see you anywhere.
You, in your search for Natasha, checked the main room and outside before giving up and deciding that if Natasha wanted to see you she would come find you. And about 20 minutes later you find herself making out with one of the girls from the party. Carol, you think is her name. It’s nice, but she’s just not Natasha.
This really is your worst nightmare, you can’t even kiss a pretty girl without thinking about Natasha. But maybe you could just keep going and see how it goes. Carol’s hand snakes up to caress your cheek and you immediately pull away, her hand just didn’t feel like Natasha’s, Carol's was softer and colder.
“I’m sorry–” you say, catching your breath and looking away from Carol for a moment. Your eyes go wide for a second when they immediately lock onto Natasha’s dark ones from across the room and you try to take a step back from Carol when you see Natasha walking towards you. You're quick to remember Carol had you pressed up against the wall. “I gotta go.” You squeak out, leaving behind a very confused Carol. “Call me..?” She calls out as you disappear through the backdoor.
Well, Natasha supposes the reason she couldn’t see you before is because you were hidden by Carol. She clicks her tongue at the thought of her getting to take you home, she would be making sure that doesn’t happen.
She brushes past everyone as she follows you outside, rolling her eyes when she sees your attempt to keep your skirt from flying up due to the breeze. “Y/N.” She calls out, tone stern as she watches you try to act like you hadn’t heard. She keeps walking, catching up to you enough so that she can grab your wrist and tug you back towards her. “And where do you think you’re going?”
You stumble backwards, falling into Natasha's chest. “I was just… getting a little warm in there, I needed some fresh air.” You mumble, straightening up and trying not to seem so affected by Natasha's close proximity. “Mhm?” Natasha moves her hands to rest on your exposed stomach, “I don’t know how you could get warm considering the lack of clothes you’re wearing right now.” She hums, short nails raking against your soft skin.
“Mhm...” you respond, breath getting caught in your throat at the sensation. Before you can get too caught up in how good it feels to have Natasha so close to you like this, you force yourself to consider the fact that you're outside and completely out in the open right now. “We should probably head back inside, people might be wondering where we went…” you gain enough willpower to break away from Natasha's hold and turn to face her, cheeks hot.
“I don’t think you have to worry about that, I told Yelena we might disappear and that she shouldn’t worry about it.” Natasha lies easily, starting to walk forward and forcing you to walk backwards until your back hits the side of the house. She takes in your appearance properly for the first time tonight, her gaze lingering perhaps a little too long on your lips that were slightly swollen from when you were kissing Carol.
“Natasha…” You start, voice shaky. “Oh? Full name.. Well then.” Natasha hums, “Unless, of course, you’d like to go back to that other girl. Then be my guest.” She takes a step back and you swear you hear jealousy with a hint of anger in her tone.
You gain your confidence back for just a second and you smirk a little bit, “I mean, if you don’t mind. She was a good ki—” You're cut off by Natasha's lips on yours and you reciprocate immediately, reaching up to try and wrap your arms around Natasha's shoulders, but you're stopped by the older woman pinning your hands against the house.
The kiss isn’t gentle by any means and it only makes you want Natasha that much more. A whine slips past your lips when Natasha nips at your bottom lip and you arch to try and get impossibly closer to her.
Natasha pulls away much to your dismay, “You were saying?” She cocks her head to the side, looking up at you slightly, your platform mary janes giving you a few inches on her. “Would you just shut up and kiss me?” You whine, leaning back in to capture her lips in a kiss.
Natasha smiles against your lips and it’s almost a gentle encounter for just a second. She grasps both of your wrists in one hand, keeping them pinned against the house as, with her other hand, she rakes her nails down the soft skin of your left arm, leaving angry red marks in their wake.
You shiver, trying desperately to pull your wrists from the older woman’s grip so you can tangle your fingers in Natasha's hair, grip her waist, pull her closer, anything. She just grips your wrists harder and continues her descent down your body. Her fingertips linger over your breasts just a little longer than everywhere else before she goes back to raking her nails against your skin, stopping at the top of your skirt and teasingly dipping her fingers just beneath the waistband.
Natasha pulls away from the kiss, partly to catch her breath, and starts leaving messy kisses down the column of your throat, then back up the side of your neck, her teeth nipping at your skin every once in a while. “Tasha, please.” You're just kissing and you're already so desperate for more, you'd probably be more embarrassed if you cared more, but at this current moment all you want is Natasha's hands on you and her lips against your own.
Natasha's hand slips under your shirt and she gropes at your chest, hiking your shirt up so your breasts are uncovered. The flimsy bralette you're wearing is easy enough to tug down under your breasts and Natasha moves her kisses further down until she’s wrapping her lips around one of your pert nipples, tugging at it with her teeth. She’s met with the sound of your moans as a reward and she lets your wrists down so she can use her other hand to focus attention on your other nipple.
You're quick to tangle your fingers in Natasha's hair, arching your back and pushing the older woman’s head closer. If you were any less consumed in how good it feels to have Natasha touching you, you'd be much more concerned about the fact that anyone who stepped outside could see you like this, but right now all you can focus on is Natasha's hands and mouth.
You try pushing her head down further, wanting more. “Please, Tasha.” You whine, and all you're met with is Natasha pulling away altogether. “Patience, sweetheart.” She murmurs, leaning back up and soothing you with a kiss, other hand still tugging at and rolling your nipple between her thumb and index finger.
Natasha bites down on your bottom lip, hard enough to draw blood, and pushes her tongue past your lips. You moan into the older woman’s mouth, tightening your grip in her hair. She reaches down and takes the hem of your skirt, tucking it into the waistband. She’s teasing in her touches, not slipping under your panties, fingers dancing around where you need her most. She takes her time, leaving red hot scratch marks on your inner thighs and reveling in the way you shiver in response. And then finally, finally, she slips her fingers beneath the waistband of your panties.
You gasp, still able to taste your own blood on Natasha's tongue, as you finally feel her fingers against you, teasing and light touches. You're all whimpers and whines as the older woman rubs teasing circles against your clit. You pull away from the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your lips to Natasha’s, your breathing heavy as you let your head fall back against the side of the house.
Natasha is quick to attach her lips to your throat, sucking and nipping at the skin, surely leaving a bruise. One of her hands is still groping at your chest, enjoying the noises she’s rewarded with from you. She grins when she feels your hips attempting to grind against her hand, so she stills it, letting you grind against the heel of her palm and set your own pace. “That’s a good girl.” She mumbles, scraping her teeth against your sensitive skin. She drags her fingers through your wetness and stifles her own groan.
You're desperately grinding against Natasha's palm, but it’s just not enough and you need more. It’s a little pathetic how easy it was for Natasha to rile you up like this, and you're sure you'll be teased about it later, but right now all you care about is finally having Natasha’s fingers inside of you.
“Nat, please, inside.” It comes out as a pitiful whine, but it seems Natasha is feeling particularly nice today as you feel her laugh against your neck. You moan loudly when two fingers enter you and give you no time to adjust before pounding into you. Thank god the music from the party is so loud or someone might have come outside to see what’s going on.
“This what you wanted, princess?” She asks, fingers unrelenting as she pounds into you, her thumb rubbing circles around your clit. “Mhm– oh!” You moan, high pitched, when Natasha bites down on the juncture between your neck and your shoulder, soothing it with her tongue. And in return, you dig your nails into her back, the acrylics piercing through the thin fabric of Natasha’s shirt and drawing blood. She lets out a quiet moan, fingers stuttering. Oh? You'd have to remember that for later.
You bite down on your already bloodied bottom lip to stifle your moans, back arching into Natasha's touch. It’s not long before you feel like you're going to cum, nails digging further into Natasha’s back. “Please, Tasha– I’m gonna– Please.” You whimper, not even sure what you're begging for.
“Are you gonna cum, baby?” Natasha mumbles against your neck, pulling away so she can look at your face. She speeds up her fingers and gauges your reaction, feels you tighten around her fingers. “What do you need, sweetheart?” It’s a rhetorical question because all you can respond with is a flurry of begging and pleas to cum.
A particularly hard thrust has you grasping at her shoulders and moaning loudly. “I got you, baby. Be a good girl and cum for me.” Natasha murmurs, opting for harder thrusts instead of faster.
You moan loudly as you cum, mouth hanging open and you back arching. Appreciating how Natasha lets you ride out your high before leaving you empty. “Mm, good girl.” She pulls away slightly, but still supports you with a hand on your waist. She pushes her fingers past your lips and lets you taste yourself while she uses her other hand to fix your clothes.
“I meant to tell you earlier, but your outfit really drove me crazy tonight.”
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