#he also hasn’t sat down yet | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sooniebby · 5 months

Note

,,,,, reader (ftm) is Megumi's babysitter n when DILF Toji comes back he rails the reader (Megumi is asleep upstairs so he doesn't hear anything lmao),,,, yes i know this is one of THE cheesiest porn plots ever but I love it sm

ఌ 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

꧁ 𝙏𝙤𝙟𝙞 𝙭 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙨 𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 ꧂

w.c. › 6.4k

Warnings › a broke man and a nasty ass house.Also age gap.. reader is around 20. Reader is trans masc. I went too far guys omfg… the plot took over. Slow-ish slow burn.. they kinda start fucking randomly.. also mamaguro didn’t die until Megumi was 6.

Kinks › use of pussy/cunt/feminine terms, breeding, manhandling, degradation, size kink. Reader is called housewife. Mention of getting pregnant.

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

“What… the fuck..?”

You were shocked. Baffled. Bewildered. What the fuck was this mess?! You weren’t even inside the house and could see what looked to be ants having a conga line as they stole crumbs off the floor.

The kid you were set to babysit didn’t look bothered by the mess. Megumi..? Was it?

Megumi hummed, noticing your shocked stare at the mess he was forced to call a home. “It’s… it’s not too bad if you ignore the kitchen.”

“Where’s…?” You whispered, slowly walking into the house. You didn’t even want to take off your shoes but it seemed Megumi was wearing his shoes.. so you kept yours on.

“He went to work.” Was all Megumi said as he shuffled over to the small living room. He plopped down onto the couch and began watching tv. You gently placed your bag down on the floor in the only clean-ish area of the house. Just.. how can it get this bad? Was he never home?

“Uhm.. well… I’m guessing you’re Megumi?” You asked, walking over to the couch. Megumi gave you a hum as he began shifting through channels with a remote that looked as if it was one press from combusting. As you sat down, Megumi quickly spoke.

“No! Not that—”

Crack!

You blinked in perplexity as you weren’t sitting on a comfy cushion of a couch. No.. you were sitting through the couch, your ass practically touching the floor. You grunted, your legs flailing as you tried to get out of this death trap masquerading as a couch.

“What… the… fawk?!” You screamed, already wishing you didn’t accept this gig.

“Dad broke that side of the couch.. he hasn’t replaced it yet.” Megumi muttered, getting up as he grabbed your hand and began pulling.

He was only around ten the most… there wasn’t much strength to his pulls. It took an embarrassingly long time until you finally got out. If Megumi wasn’t going to be alone in this devil trap, you would’ve ran out screaming. But you quickly took a deep breath and tried to calm down.

“Usually.. they all leave around this time.” Megumi whispered, seemingly waiting for you to just bolt out the door. “Can you… at least stay until I go to bed, Mister…?”

He looked up at you. The usual cute little kid puppy eyes and pouted lip. You sighed and simply nodded. It wasn’t the kid’s fault he had a lazy man as a father. You briefly wondered where the mother was but didn’t think it was right to ask Megumi such a question.

Instead… you glanced over at the clock.

9:30 a.m.

Okay.. the father should come home at around 6 p.m.? The latest? So you could stay for this kid. Might as well, you travelled a bit far. Because surprisingly, the pay was pretty good. But now you wondered if you weren’t getting any of that money when you glanced at the state of the home.

“Well. Have you eaten?” You asked.

“Yeah.”

“What’d you eat?”

“….cookies.”

You groaned. You stormed over to the mess of a kitchen and began opening the cabinets to find nothing! You opened the pantry—zilch! You opened the fridge with a look of despair—nada!

You would’ve screamed and cried if you didn’t want to embarrass yourself more in front of a kid ten years younger than you. With a grunt, you looked back at Megumi who looked unconcerned with his poor excuse of a kitchen.

“Let’s go to the grocery store….” You muttered through your teeth. You were glad Megumi was already dressed. But it was confusing.. his clothes looked decent. Did the dad spend all money on Megumi’s clothes?

10:10 a.m.

You fucking hated the city! All this damn traffic. And you almost lost Megumi!! The two of you were now in the grocery store, you hand gripped tightly around Megumi’s as you stomped around with a look of anger. Your lips in a permanent snarl while your eyebrows furrowed.

This wasn’t even your kid but it certainly felt like it!

Megumi, despite a bit confused on why you seemed so worked up, had a small smile on his face. It was.. normal to just grocery shop—even if it was with a man he didn’t even know well.

Once you began to check out, you almost cried at the price. You slowly handed your credit card to the clerk, your grip tight as she had to wrestle it out of your hand. Silent tears streamed down your face as you spent money on someone who’s not even your kid..

Gosh.. why’d you have to care so much, (Name)?!

“What does your dad even do?” You asked as you two sat on the train back to Megumi’s house. The train was empty—the only two souls being you and Megumi. And this random guy towards the end but he doesn’t matter.

Megumi hummed, lost in thought. “Dunno.”

You groaned. Well, it didn’t matter anyway. You were just going to take care of this kid today and never come back. As you began checking your phone, the soft weight of someone resting on your arm jolted you. You glanced down and saw Megumi snuggled up against you, already deep in sleep.

Fuck…

Curse kids being cute.

11:50 a.m.

The sounds of harsh scrubbing filled the Fushiguro household. Clinking pots and sounds of labored breathing were one. Megumi was on the couch, the safe side, eating an omelette you made for him. It was an actual healthy meal—filled with protein and fiber. But you…

You were on your knees scrubbing what looked to be weeks old spill of pasta. Or.. something. It was red and smelled a bit. But you weren’t quite sure. As you scrubbed the spot away—you glanced around the kitchen with a frown. The only thing cleaned up.. was the sink and now the floor.

Everything else was still dirty.

So, for the next few hours, you began cleaning. Maybe it was for Megumi.. you felt terrible that he had to live in such a dirty home. Perhaps you saw yourself in him—being forced to live in a house that your parents didn’t care to make it feel like a home.

“Mister (Name), can we go to the park later?” Megumi suddenly asked. You glanced behind yourself to see him holding his now empty plate as he dropped it in the sink.

“Sure. Will your dad be okay with it?”

Megumi shrugged. “Maybe.” He walked away after that.

This kid didn’t seem to care that much on his father opinion. But you were just a babysitter, not some type of disciplinary parent. The smell of the fumes from the cleaning sprays was getting to you, so you grabbed a random candle and lit it.

The candle looked to be a lavender one. It’s case still brand new. Compared to most things in this house.. it looked taken care of. The smooth container was soft against your skin as you placed it on the newly cleaned kitchen counter. It smelled nice.

It was a lavender candle. You couldn’t go wrong with lavender.

“You lit it?” Megumi suddenly whispered, his eyes turned over to you.

You hummed. “Yeah. Is.. this not for lighting?” You muttered, realizing you should’ve asked first.

“No.. it’s fine. I doubt he even remembered it was there,” he muttered, his voice a bit angry before he turned his body back to the tv.

You wanted to ask.. why he wouldn’t remember it. But you thought back to the missing mother. Oh. Was this hers? You felt awful lighting it now. So grabbing the covering, you covered the candle, letting the flame die out. As you watched the light go out—it felt worst letting it die than letting it burn.

“Megumi, I’m going to check out the bedrooms, okay?”

“Ok.”

You walked up the stairs and opened the first door you saw.

The bigger bedroom.. wasn’t the father’s. It was Megumi’s. And it was perfect. A nice citrus smell filled the room from the fragrance plugs. A nicely painted blue colored walls. Toys packed neatly and a bed that looked cared for.

Even the floor was cleaned. It squeaked beneath your shoes.. you quickly took them off. As you left the room, closing the door with a soft smile on your lips, you walked to the spare bedroom. Opening the door, the bedroom was small. More like an office.

But it certainly was more fit for the child—not the father. You wondered why he gave Megumi the bigger room but it made sense in that, perhaps he just wanted to give Megumi more space. The room was dirty, just like the rest of the house. Wrappers crinkled beneath your feet as you shuffled around, trying to see what was in the room.

When you turned on the light.. you noticed that this was also Megumi’s space. The wrappers were candy and there was more toys all over this room. But it didn’t make any sense. This was a two bedroom home..? Or.. you thought about the room downstairs that was locked when you were searching for cleaning supplies.

Ah, that must’ve been the true master bedroom.

You cleaned the spare bedroom and noticed that it was more like an office. You checked the closet and saw dresses, skirts, and heels. It was obviously the mom’s—but they haven’t been worn in awhile.

You closed the door, deciding you shouldn’t snoop too much in this family’s business. You whispered a quick soft apology for disbursing the room obviously left to the mother and walked out.

Downstairs, Megumi was still watching tv but he quickly stood up at the sight of you. He smiled a bit and sprinted over to you.

“Why’d you let it stop? You can burn it.” He said, pointing to the candle.

You glanced over at it. “I… I don’t know. Your father had it hidden between the cleaning supplies… I only found it by accident.”

“Please… I..” Megumi sighed. “I miss her smell.”

You felt guilty… but as there was no father to object, you started the candle once more. Megumi was considerably happy as he jumped back onto the couch and payed attention to the tv.

The gnawing feeling of guilt hurled in your guts but you pushed it back. The house still had spots to clean. Keeping yourself busy with that—you cleaned the living room and the front area of the home.

Lavender filled your nose as you moved about. It was comforting, swirling around as if it was livening up each corner of the home. Megumi was happy.

5:50 p.m.

Okay. Time for dinner. You felt a bit embarrassed forgetting to give Megumi lunch but he didn’t seem to mind. Probably has to do with the amount of snacks he was eating while you cleaned. You made the easiest thing ever, chicken Katsu curry. As you gave Megumi his portion, you noticed there was enough for at least two more people. So you placed them in the fridge. Despite having a bit of a grudge against the dad..

It wouldn’t hurt to leave him dinner.

It only took a near hour before Megumi was reminding you about the park. Your body was sore though, from slaving away in cleaning this damn house. And it was a job well done.. no more ants conga lining or the nasty smell of what could be assumed as blood.

“Okay, okay… Only for an hour the most—I don’t know if your dad will be okay with it.” You said, smiling softly.

9:00 p.m.

Okay, so it wasn’t an hour.. nearly four! But it was hard. Megumi was having so fun swinging and then you guys started playing tag.. and then hide and seek. And then—

Okay, you don’t have a backbone when it comes to cute kids.

You hummed softly as you walked back home—Fushiguro’s home! Megumi was in your arms, face nuzzled into your neck as he slept away. The sun was already down by now, the only light was the street lights shining down on you.

Even if the dad didn’t pay you much.. you would come back, just for Megumi. As you trudged up the slight hill to the house, you wondered how parents who carried their child did it so often. It felt like a workout.

Once you reached the house, you stopped in your tracks.

There was man standing at the door.

He was tall, certainly taller than you. Dressed in a long black t-shirt with baggy tan pants. You stepped back ready to start running when a gust of wind caused you to shriek.

The man was right in front of you. His eyes bore down on you with a look of pure bloodlust before his eyes flickered to the body in your arms. He calmed down, noting.. Megumi was in your arms.

So you must’ve been the babysitter. Huh, he never expected a man.

Well, he certainly scared you off with how he just acted.

“I,” his voice was deep. “I lost my keys.”

You blinked. Anger. Frustration.

“What the fuck?!” You screamed.

The man backed away a bit, raising his hand up in confusion. He obviously looked confused at your sudden burst of anger… did it anger you that much that he lost his keys?

You pulled out the spare keys you had in your pocket and opened the front door, storming inside with the dad right behind you.

“Put him to bed!” You yelled, pointing at Megumi.

He took Megumi from your arms and went upstairs. You took that as your chance to grab your bag. Well, you did what Megumi wanted, stayed until he fell asleep.

Just as you were about to leave, the dad was downstairs already. Okay, that wasn’t possible or normal but you didn’t know if you were just sleep deprived.

“The trains are closed for the night. Are you going to walk home?” He asked.

“Maybe! Why do you care?”

“It’s not safe.”

“It’s not safe to leave trash all over the house.”

He looked over at you with a raised eyebrow, as if waiting to see if you’d continue with your disrespect. But you pursed your lips shut. Yeah, it wasn’t safe going home this late. Especially when you lived so far away from here.

“Fine. I cleaned the spare bedroom anyway, it’ll be fine to sleep in.”

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

“No. That room is off limits.”

You rolled your eyes. “Fine. The couch will do.” You whispered, storming over to the couch. But of course… you forgot which side was the broken one.

And once again, you were stuck in the broken couch. You didn’t even flail this time. Only a whine of disappointment as you decided to accept your faith. The dad was busy doing something as he didn’t come over to you until you heard the microwave turn on.

“That side is broken.”

“I noticed.” You grunted.

The man grabbed your arm and easily pulled you out, causing you to shriek.

“You shriek a lot.. are you a mouse?”

“A mouse?!”

“You’re so loud, mouse.”

“It’s (Name), oaf!”

“Toji.”

You rolled your eyes and moved to go sit down but his grip on your arm didn’t waiver. It wasn’t like he was putting much force into it, it was a light easy grip. But it still held you in place.

He leaned down a bit, his nose sniffing you. You gagged at him being so close but could only pull away a bit from him.

“You stink.” He simply stated.

“Stink?!” You screeched. “I busted my ass cleaning your dirty house for Megumi!”

“Huh? I didn’t hire you as a maid. You’re Megumi’s babysitter.”

“Well,” you muttered, trying to explain yourself. “It’s.. not good for Megumi to live in such a dirty space. Kids get sick easily!”

Which was technically true.

Toji hummed. “Okay, Housewife—you still stink.”

“Housewife—?!”

“—so go bathe before going to bed.”

“I don’t have any clothes.”

“I’ll give you something.”

With that, Toji walked away to the kitchen and grabbed the plate of microwaved curry. You glared at him but walked over to the bathroom.

It was recently cleaned as the acidic scent attacked your nostrils. You started the bath, letting it fill in as you got undressed. Toji was right though—you certainly didn’t smell as nice as you did when you first got here.

“Hey, Housewife.”

You screamed out, covering your chest as the bathroom door opened. Toji kept his eyes closed as he tossed a towel inside.

“Stop screaming, you’ll wake up Megumi.”

The door closed after that. Your face was flushed red as your lips curled into a pout. Shit. You were so loud. You stopped the water and got inside, ready to just take a long relaxing bath.

9:50 p.m.

You hummed, feeling yourself being wrapped in a nice fluffy blanket. You only giggled, snuggling into the warm embrace. Strong arms held you up and suddenly you were moving.

It felt so nice being cuddled by warmth, especially after that cold bath. But you didn’t know why the bath was cold. It was hot when you started it.

You shook awake when you felt your body drop onto a bed. Toji had carried you from the bathtub. You quickly fixed your towel to make sure you were properly covered as you watched him walk to his closet.

“Be careful next time, Housewife. You were about to drown if I didn’t check on you.”

“Huh? Drown? And it’s (Name)! I’m a guy, damn it!”

“Your head was underwater.”

“Oh.. how long was I in there?”

“Almost an hour.”

You shivered. Well, thank god you didn’t even attempt to walk home. You would’ve passed out mid walk. Toji looked busy, moving clothes around in his closet as he hyper focused on them.

“Here.”

You flinched as a large t-shirt was thrown at your face. It was a black one that would certainly cover your body fully. But.. there was no underwear. You took the chance to slip the shirt on when Toji’s back was still facing you.

The t-shirt practically engulfed you, way too big for your body. As you examined the big shirt, Toji closed the closet door. You glanced up when you felt his eyes on you.

“You can watch Megumi for another day, yeah?”

“Wha? Why?”

“I got another job.” Was all he said as he left the bedroom.

With a grunt you shot out of bed and followed after. You watched as he slipped back into his shoes and was standing by the front door, ready to just leave! Who does that?

“Hey!” You yelled, before quickly quieting down when you remembered Megumi was asleep. “What type of job do you have to be leaving so late?!”

“You’re the babysitter.. Focus on Megumi. I’ll pay you extra.”

“The pay doesn’t matter, asshole! Megumi needs a parent that is actually here. It’s better for him,” you said, stomping over to Toji.

You opened your mouth to speak once more but was muffled when Toji grabbed your face. He stared down at you, a look of disinterest on his face. You could feel his eyes just taking you in, looking at your features. Your lips, eyes, nose.

His hand was so large against your face, so easily holding your jaw still and squishing your chubby cheeks. Your lips were pursed together as you tried to make a sound. He leaned down towards you, his lips right near your ears as he whispered to you.

“You should be careful when moving your arms up so high, especially without underwear.” Was all he said before leaving.

The door slammed shut when you finally realized what he meant. Your face flushed red in embarrassment. Fuck!

This guy…

12:30 p.m.

It was the next day and no sign of Mister Fushiguro “Toji”. You stabbed angrily at your salad. Megumi was unfazed but certainly happy that you hadn’t left last night. You had to stay in Toji’s shirt and just grab the smallest pants there.

Still no underwear.

Even the smallest pants kept falling a bit if you didn’t hold it while walking. You had pulled up the shirt and used a rubber band to tighten it so it wasn’t knee length anymore.

If Megumi noticed you were wearing his father’s clothes, he didn’t say anything.

“What time does your dad get home?”

Megumi hummed. “Dunno. Depends.”

“On what?”

Megumi seemed to hesitate so you didn’t push it.

Didn’t matter, as soon as Toji got home, you’d give him a piece of your mind.

11:20 p.m.

The door opened. You were right there in front of it, ready to yell when you froze. Toji had a gash on his arm, bleeding all onto the floor. But he didn’t seem fazed by it. On the contrary, it was as if it was another Tuesday to him. Your lips parted, only sounds that could out being a soft ‘huh?’

Toji looked at you, seeming to be a bit shocked you were still there. His eyes flickered down.

“You love flashing me, huh?”

You blinked in confusion and looked down to see the pants pooling around your legs. For fuck sakes! You quickly pulled up the pants and blushed heavily, thoughts rushing in your mind.

“W—Where were you?! Why are you bleeding?!” You whispered yelled. Megumi was upstairs sleeping.

Toji hummed nonchalantly as he walked to the kitchen and opened one of the cabinets, pulling out some napkins and bandages. The gash was still bleeding as blood began pooling around his feet.

Was.. that how…? You pushed the thought away and trudged over to him. With quick hands, you grabbed the materials from him and began cleaning the wound. You had so many questions—wanting to know just what type of job could do this to him.

But you were the babysitter. And that’s all you were.

When you finished, the makeshift bandages that were wrapped hazardously around his arm. It wasn’t properly secured as it slipped a bit when Toji moved his arm but he still thanked you and fixed it to be tighter.

Silence filled the room as you grabbed some paper towels to clean up the blood on the ground.

Toji didn’t say anything, just watching you clean. Were you just this weird? He didn’t know a boy like you would be interested in babysitting, much less cleaning the entire house.

He knew he should’ve thanked you yesterday for cleaning it—but he didn’t. He wasn’t even sure why.

“What job do you have?” You suddenly asked, standing up as you threw away the dirty paper towels. Toji glanced at you. You expected him to just answer but instead he said..

“Cook somethin’ for me, Housewife. I’m starving.” He said, walking over to the living room. He plopped down onto the couch and grabbed the remote, turning the tv on.

You stared at the back of his head in shock. And pure rage but since you didn’t want to wake up Megumi, you silently cursed him out as you made him the laziest dinner ever.

It was fucking 12:00 a.m. by now! No way were you going to go all out for this broke lazy man.

You gave him a bowl of leftover salad and store bought sushi you and Megumi had left over. You could tell Toji looked a bit disappointed but still took the bowl from you.

As he ate, you still wanted to know more.

“Why do you keep calling me housewife? I’m a man, y’know!”

“So?” He simply said. “You embody the housewife… so I’ll call you housewife.”

You glared at him. “How?! Just by cleaning?”

“Cleaning. Taking care of Megumi. Restocking the kitchen. Making me dinner.”

“I made the dinner for Megumi.” You muttered bitterly.

“Oh, right.” Toji muttered, fishing something out from his dirty pants. There were stains you knew weren’t water… you told yourself it was his blood—not someone else’s. He pulled out a wad of cash and placed it into your hands.

“Paycheck.”

You counted the money. “It’s more than promised.”

“You stayed longer than necessary.”

“Right.” You whispered. You walked over and placed the cash into your bag. No one payed with cash as much anymore but you didn’t want to know why he wasn’t sending it electronically.

You glanced over at Toji, getting a better look of him. He was as good looking as a man who obviously hasn’t been grooming himself often. His eyes flickered to yours, a raised eyebrow as he waited for you to say something.

“Oh.. uh.. will you be going out for work again..?”

“No. I have enough money for at least a week.”

“Will you.. at least spend time with Megumi?”

Toji hummed. “It’s only been two days but you’re already caring a lot for Megumi.” He looked over at you. “You enjoy being with kids?”

“Do you?”

Toji stood up suddenly, causing you to flinch in shock. He placed the empty bowl on the small wooden coffee table and walked past you to the front door.

“Where are you going?” You asked, watching as he grabbed a jacket from the small closet. He didn’t even struggle pulling the jacket on—it was as if his wound didn’t hurt him. He was leaving? Again? With no work to do?!

It wasn’t on purpose. Really, you just acted so fast. Your hands were gripped tightly on his. You were staring right at his hand. The rough feeling of his palms—certainly of one that has held… his hand was large against yours. Even two of your hands were small compared to one of his. Toji glanced down at you, noticing that your—his, really—pants fell down again. He was about to comment on it again, ready for you to jump in embarrassment.

But when he saw your face, he paused.

Your eyes were a bit puffy, watery as you looked up at him. You.. This random guy he hired two days ago to watch Megumi was going to cry over him?

His dick twitched in his pants.

“Just… stay tonight. You might not notice it.. but Megumi was so happy when he woke up to me still here.” You whispered, leaning in closer to Toji. “I know I’m just a stranger and I’m not supposed to be bothering you like this… but I—uh, for Megumi… it’d be nice.”

The soft hums of the tv from the random show Toji was watching continued on. Even if it had been almost two days, the soft lavender smell still danced around the house. Just breathing it in brought you a sense of peace. Your grip loosened on Toji’s hand as you realized that this was a bit much. Maybe you did care a bit too much about Megumi.

But you weren’t even sure why.

A low deep laugh caught your attention as you looked up. Toji’s lips were pulled into a smirk as he used his free hand to grab your face harshly. Panic filled you as you reached up and grabbed at his arm, believing he was about to hurt you.

“You’re really embodying this housewife role, (Name). I guess I need to let you do your other job as well.” He said. “I was going to have some fun with a prostitute but.. I should’ve just went to my housewife.”

“Let’s take a bath first, can’t smell bad during your first time.”

12:20 a.m.

You weren’t sure why you didn’t say shit. Toji was relaxed in the bathtub that was not made for two people. Especially not someone as large as Toji.

The water was warm against your skin as you stared at your knees brought up to your chest. You were between Toji’s muscular thighs, making sure your back didn’t rest against his chest. Toji’s soft hums began to sound like light snoring. And, weirdly enough, you liked hearing it. You began getting comfortable but still curled up into yourself. A large hand gripped your waist and pulled you back, forcing your back to lay on his chest.

You meeped in shock, face flushed. But Toji didn’t say anything. His hand continued to rest on the curve of your waist, his thumb slowly tracing little circles all over it. The feeling of the warm water and comfortable touching on your body, you felt your eyes flutter close.

It wasn’t until you felt the subtle touch of something on your ass was when you shook awake.

It was a dick.

A.. uh, big one at that.

You looked over your shoulder, seeing Toji mostly asleep. His head was resting against the wall while his chest rose and fell slowly. You gently turned around to fully face him. He was hot. Sexy maybe.

But definitely older than you.

You reached out and rest your hands on his chest, leaning close to Toji. You didn’t know what exactly you were doing but you wanted to kiss him. Maybe constantly being called a housewife was getting to you.

Your body was fully pressed against his—lips close to his when a hand was squeezing your hips. You whimpered and pulled away, looking down to see Toji looking up at you with a lazy smirk.

“You’re not just a housewife, huh? Also a slut too.”

“No… ‘m not..” you muttered, blushing heavily as Toji’s hand trailed down to your ass and began to harshly knead it.

“You’re not? But what were you trying to do just now?”

You pursed your lips and looked away. Yeah, you were trying to kiss him. It felt embarrassing to be caught red handed like that. Toji hummed as he watched you squirm. His hands rose up and gripped your waist. You looked back at him and wondered if he was going to push you away.

But instead of pushing you away, he pulled you against your chest as he stood up. You gasped and quickly wrap your arms around his neck as a way to stay upright as he walked out of the tub. He didn’t even bother grabbing a towel—simply walked nude and wet to the bedroom with you in his arms. He was only even using one arm to keep you up.

He unceremoniously dropped you onto the bed. You let out a huff, glaring at him. The bed was now wet from the water on your body. It seeped into the blankets and when you tried to move off the bed, Toji grabbed your foot and pulled you towards the edge of the bed. You shrieked at his strength.

He had no problem just dragging or picking you up like a rag doll.

With your legs dangling off the bed, Toji lifted them up, causing your body to uncomfortably arch.

“Toji! This is uncomfortable,” you whined.

“I know.”

You watched with a bated breath as Toji kneeled at the edge of the bed, placing your legs on either side of his shoulder. The position was odd. You were resting on your shoulders and upper back with your lower half raised up by Toji’s grip. His large hands had a harsh grip on your thighs. You were sure there would be bruising in the morning.

“Usually, I don’t reward sluts.. but because you’re my housewife, I’ll be nice.”

With that, you suddenly felt a tongue graze right against your cunt. You shivered, gripping the bedsheets beneath you. The droplets from both of your bodies dripped onto the ground and bed.

“T…Toji..!” You whined, your legs squeezing his head as you felt his tongue lick between your folds. He was slow and sharp, one of his hands going down to flick your clit. Your toes curled and soft whimpers left your lips as his tongue reached deep between your folds.

You had to be control your voice—no matter how loud you wanted to be.

You cried out when his lips left your heat. His grip on your legs moved down to your waist and next thing you knew it, you were manhandled onto the bed. You were on your back, legs pushed up to where your knees reached your chin. The position was more comfortable than the one before.

Toji got between your legs and leaned over you, a sly smirk on his lips. “I never thought I’d ever be fucking Megumi’s babysitter. Most don’t make it after an hour.”

“Cause the house was awful..” You muttered.

You gasped when you felt a sharp tug at your hair. Toji smirked at you, obviously enjoying your cry of pain. He released your hair and you decided to keep your mouth shut.

“I was getting sick of having to hire a new babysitter every day—it’s good to know I won’t have to anymore.” You felt something rub against your pussy, slowly inching between your wet folds. “It’s a bonus you ended up being a good housewife.”

Crack!

Your mouth pulled open in a silent scream—back arched as Toji’s cock slammed right inside of you. It was painful, no doubt because he didn’t stretch you out for a cock that was so thick! It was stretching you, your cunt clamping down on it as you tried to get used to it.

The look on Toji’s face was of pure satisfaction. He was happy to be fucking such a tight wet cunt. Even more so it was yours. He didn’t wait long to start fucking into you, watching you come undone beneath him.

Your smaller body compared to his bigger form. Hands reaching up to claw at his back for some type of stability. The bed had broke one of its legs when he thrusted inside of you. You were sure it wouldn’t survive by how harsh his hips slapped against your ass, sending you up towards the headboard each time.

“I can’t really call you a slut if this is how your cunt feels. Were you one of those boys saving this,” he tugs lightly at your clit, earning a cry, “for someone special?”

You shook your head, moans and gasps leaving your lips as you tried to speak. It was so hard to speak that you didn’t even try, solely focusing on the cock stretching you full.

“Sorry to disappoint but this cunt belongs to me now.”

You didn’t tell him no. Because for some reason, you liked the sound of that.

As he continued fucking you, his hand rested down on your stomach as the other gripped your waist. You watched with hooded eyes as your continued crying and whimpering, your pussy clinching around his cock as you felt yourself reach your limit.

“You never answered me that time.” He leaned down close to you. “Do you like kids?”

You wanted to punch him for asking such a question during such a time but you simply nodded. “Yes…! Kids… ngh… cute…” you pitifully whimpered.

“Then Megumi deserves a sibling. Think you can give it to him?” He simply said. You blushed heavily at his words, mouth opening to ask what the fuck did he mean by that but he was now focused solely on fucking you.

Your hands scratched at his back as you arched yours, crying and moaning as his hips slammed into your ass. You weren’t sure if you really wanted to go through the whole ordeal of birth but just technically being claimed by Toji made your brain feel mushy.

It didn’t take long for you to cum. Your toes curled and your nails clawed at Toji’s back for purchase as your body shook with your orgasm. Toji didn’t let up, however, somehow going even faster. It was like he was using you like a toy, fucking your hole with reckless abandon as he chased his own release now.

He slammed his hips harsh, pushing his cock deep inside you before cumming. You whimpered, feeling the warm cum coat your insides. Cum seeped into the bedsheets as he pulled out, leaving your cunt to faintly clench around the missing feeling.

“You’re helping me save money. Don’t need to spend it on women when I got my housewife right here.” He patted your sore pussy. “If I knew fucking men would feel this good I would’ve done it earlier.”

You blushed. “I feel dirty..”

Toji simply laughed. “You are.” He grabbed your face, but much more gently than the times before and pressed a sloppy kiss onto your lips. “Now be a good boy and take a shower. I’ll join you soon.”

You bit your lip and mutely nodded as he got up from bed. With shaky legs, you slowly walked to the bathroom, feeling cum drip down your legs. You were sure some fell into the floor. God, you’d need to clean that layer. When you reached the bathroom and turned on the tub, you suddenly felt giddy.

Wow. You came here to babysit and suddenly you have a “boyfriend?”

Luck was on your side. You just wondered what it would be like dating someone like Toji.

6:30 a.m.

“T..Toji..!” You whispered, gripping the bedsheets beneath you. Toji was fucking into your already sore cunt. You were on your side with Toji behind you, his hand holding your leg up as his cock pumped into your pussy.

It’s been maybe four weeks since you got here. You haven’t gone home. Well, just once to get clothes since you couldn’t just stay in Toji’s clothes. Megumi was so happy that you were staying. Finally, something constant.

But you soon learned that Toji was a very horny man—he would constantly fuck you in the bathtub, living room, kitchen, and bedroom. It was always before he left for work and when he came back. You had gotten used to having your hole stuffed full of cum. It was getting tiring of cleaning it out.

You mentioned condoms… but that only resulted in him giving you continuous creampies until you apologized.

Toji finally cummed, once again coating your insides. He pulled and pressed a kiss onto your neck as he got up from the bed. He got dressed and turned to you.

“I’m going now. I want curry for dinner.”

That was all he said before leaving. It felt a little degrading, to be used and then told to make him dinner before he got back. But you still did it, no question asked.

You truly were a male housewife.

Definitely not what child you dreamed of being as an adult, but hey, things change.

At least the dick was good.

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

First time writing deadbeatguro… how’d I do? Feel like I didn’t do him justice smh. But it was fun writing this, made it way too long but hey, plot just happened..

tag list: @the-ultimate-librarian @remdayz @chill-guy-but-cooler @tehyunnie @smellwell @rhetorical-conscience @nakedtoasterr @mello-life69 @iwishtobeacrow @kiiyoooo @tomoeroi @ofclyde @kaedezu

#x male smut #jjk x male reader #bottom male reader #uke male reader #jjk smut #toji fushiguro #jjk toji #toji smut #dilf toji #toji x male reader #mlm ns/fw #mlm nsft #sub male reader

4K notes · View notes

vixstarria · 3 months

Text

Seeing stars

Welp, I wrote more porn.

Astarion x F!Tav/F!Reader

18+, smut, porn with plot, porn with feelings, jealous Astarion, soft dom Astarion, dirty talk, fingering, PIV, elf ears and more! Humour, banter and fluff mixed in per usual. Tav failing several insight checks in the process.

I also poke fun at the in-game romance mechanics, and Wyll's Act 2 scene in particular.

This is the last time they have sex before the "I want us to be something real" conversation.

Approx. 2,900 words

“You won’t believe the ludicrous encounter I just had with Wyll.”

You burst into Astarion’s tent. Well, it was ‘Astarion’s’ tent only notionally at this point. Yours still stood, but it now served solely as storage space for your assorted junk. You had effectively moved in with Astarion, having first coerced him into replacing the wooden plank and bloodstained rags he slept on with some sensible rugs and blankets.

Astarion lounged half-naked on one of the bedrolls, reading something by candlelight.

“Oh?” he looked up at you. “Do tell.”

“First the massage you promised earlier,” you said sinking down onto the floor of the tent and stripping off most of your clothes. “My back is killing me after carrying everyone all day.”

“Oh please...” he rolled his eyes. “I recall you nearly walked into your own cloud of daggers, again, and would have if I hadn’t pulled you away in time. And then you blasted Lae’zel off a cliff. It’s a wonder we haven’t kicked you out yet.” He shook his head. “And if you’re carrying anyone, I’m the one carrying you.”

Still, he sat up as you laid down on your stomach.

“Who do you think you’re fooling with this modesty, darling?” he murmured, noticing that you’d kept your underwear on. “Just lose it now,” he added, as he slid it off, leaving you completely naked, before he settled over you, his fingers commencing work on your shoulders. “So what happened with Wyll?”

“I was making my way back here, and found him... performing some kind of jig by the campfire, pretending like he didn’t know I was there.”

“The ‘Blade of Frontiers’, dancing alone in the middle of camp?” Astarion snickered. “Did you mock him? Please tell me you mocked him.”

“Well... I was going to, but then he asked me to dance with him, very earnestly.”

“That scoundrel...” he mused. “And let me guess - you agreed, didn’t you?”

“Oh trust me, at that point it would have been more awkward not to dance with him, I had to play along.”

Astarion scoffed, with a chuckle.

“Do you always go along with whatever people want from you just because it would be too awkward to say no?”

"I try not to – last time I did, I ended up with a vampire who won’t stop sucking me dry,” you deflected. “I figured there was no harm in indulging him. Besides, I don’t see you dancing with me. It was kind of nice,” you teased.

“I hate dancing,” he said.

“Right,” you said. “I’m sure you hate dancing just as much as you hate poetry, flowers, art, cats... What else?”

“Children,” he answered. “I also can’t stand children.”

“No, that one I could see being true,” you grinned.

“So anyway, you two dolts pranced around the fire to the sound of crickets, then what?”

“And then he tried to kiss me,” you admitted, with a sigh.

Astarion’s hands paused for a moment before resuming their work, slightly harder than before.

“Well look at you, receiving the Duke Ravengard’s heir’s attention. Moving up in the world, hmm?”

“I didn’t let him.”

He laughed.

“Is there even a single person left in camp that hasn’t tried to get into your pants, darling?”

You had to think for a moment.

“Are we counting Volo?”

“Sure.”

“Then just Karlach and Withers.”

“Gods, I fucking love Karlach,” he murmured. “Don’t tell her I said that.”

“Why? Getting jealous all of a sudden?”

Astarion was silent for a few moments.

“I just don’t understand it,” he said. “You’re with me every night. I’m at your side every day. They see us. They hear us. Still, they don’t take me – or you and me – seriously. Tell me, is there something about me that screams: ‘Please, go ahead and take my lover for yourself. Come on in and snatch her right out from under me, I don’t mind’?”

Perhaps you’d made a bad judgment call when you thought Astarion would find the absurdity of the situation humorous rather than offensive. Still, you had to bite your cheek to keep from laughing at the dramatics he added to the delivery of the last few lines that left his mouth.

“Stop laughing,” he said.

“I’m not laughing,” you laughed.

“I can feel your back muscles twitching in your efforts.”

“Well, they’re aware this all started as a joke. Perhaps they never realised that it’s long stopped being one?” you offered.

Astarion’s hands had been moving lower and lower along your back. They had now reached your ass and continued to rub, stroke and squeeze, as you let out a soft groan.

“That’s not my back, Astarion.”

One of his hands kept squeezing an ass cheek, while the other dipped to stroke you between your legs. He gave a satisfied hum when two of his fingers entered you effortlessly.

“Maybe if they could see how wet I can make you just by rubbing your back they’d reconsider how much of a joke this is,” he said, his voice low. He continued to pump his fingers in and out – you were almost embarrassed by the loud squelching sounds that came out of you. You moaned and tried to lift your hips higher, but your legs were encased between his thighs, pinned down on the bedroll. “Do you think you’d be reacting this way to young Ravengard, darling?”

“Stop it,” you hissed. “You know I don’t want anyone but you.”

“Stop?” he pulled his fingers out, to your dissatisfied whine. You looked back to see him studying your slick on his fingers. “I should go smear this on his face right now... The audacity to try to get his hands on what is not his.” He licked his fingers clean instead. He turned his attention back to you.

“Maybe if you were more vocal about your devotion to me the others wouldn’t make these mistakes.”

His hand returned between your legs, spreading your wetness and slipping lower to tease your clit.

“I could be... encouraged... to be more vocal about it,” you breathed, trying to grind against his hand.

“Yes... I should make you scream my name, so they all know who you belong to.”

His fingers returned inside you, teasing you with shallow strokes.

“You can try,” you taunted him.

Astarion let out an indignant huff and shifted to spread your legs open with his knees, simultaneously placing a hand on your back to firmly hold you down. You expect to feel his cock enter you, but he continued to stroke you with his fingers, turning his hand to curl them downwards.

“Is that a challenge, darling?” he asked, his voice dangerously low. “You should know better by now than to bet against me,” he said, continuing to flex his fingers inside you.

It started off pleasant enough, but rapidly grew into... more. And more. You weren’t sure what he was doing but whatever it was, it was just about making you see stars.

You sputtered as the new sensation started to take hold of your whole being.

“Ast… what..”

You couldn't manage anything coherent, as his fingers continued to dig into you, gradually picking up speed and pressure. You started to squirm to try to get away despite yourself, but he simply put more weight against the hand on your back, securely pinning you to the bedroll.

“Always getting yourself into situations you're not prepared for…" he murmured. "You're not talking your way out of this one.”

His fingers were relentless. You were worried you really would scream and wake everyone in camp. All you could do was bite down on the pillow, hoping that it would muffle your drawn-out moans.

“Let go, darling... I know you want to.”

It's not so much that you let go – rather, all your decorum was ripped from you, as your muscles convulsed, the orgasm rolling through your entire body. You panted and shuddered, trying to keep quiet, your hands clutching desperately at the covers beneath you, trying to hold on to anything like your life depended on it.

Once the feeling subsided, you came back to your senses to find Astarion hovering over you, kissing the back of your neck and shoulders, grazing them with his fangs, almost but not quite hard enough to draw blood. You felt his erection rubbing against your hip.

“Has anyone fucked you like this before?” he whispered hoarsely into your ear, his breath ragged from his own arousal. “Tell me.”

“No,” you gasped, trying to catch your own breath.

“I thought so,” he whispered with a smile, kissing your neck before he sat back up.

You turned back to look at him over your shoulder. He watched you with a self-satisfied grin, his fingers returning to stroke you lightly between your legs once more.

“Do you want me to do it again?” he purred.

A part of you wanted to wipe that smug grin off his face after what he just put you through. Another, much larger part, wanted nothing more than to submit yourself to whatever he would do to you.

“Yes,” you admitted sheepishly.

“Turn around...” he narrowed his eyes mischievously. “I want to see your face this time.”

You flipped around onto your back, under his watchful gaze. His eyes never left yours as he stroked your slit, teasing your engorged clit with his thumb, before his fingers slipped back inside you.

You found yourself mewling in anticipation before he really even started doing anything.

“So eager,” he smirked. “So wanton...”

He curled his fingers again, moving his whole hand to mercilessly claw into a sweet spot you didn’t even know existed inside you.

You tried to relax into and accept this sensation, now that you were familiar with it. A growing pressure kept building at the bottom of your stomach. It was too much. It was entirely too much. You couldn’t take more of it. You couldn’t-

“Let go, I’ve got you...” His whisper sounded so tender in sharp contrast to the depraved way he was handling your body.

You sobbed as what you hoped was cum gushed out of you, your legs quivering.

“Good girl”, Astarion laughed with glee, bending down to place a kiss on your lips, continuing to stroke you lightly, “Your body reacts so perfectly to me... Do you want more?”

“You... I want you...” you groaned, biting his lip.

“If that’s what my good girl wants,” he purred, discarding what was left of his clothes.

You groaned as his cock entered you, rocking your hips against his, trying to find that feeling again.

“So wet and needy for me...” he goaded you. “I’ve completely ruined you for anyone else, haven’t I?”

He held absolutely nothing back as he fucked you, lewd insistent sounds of skin slapping on skin combined with your shared grunts and moans disturbing what was likely otherwise a silent night.

“Anyone awake knows exactly what I’m doing to you right now,” he rasped, voice thick.

Your walls clenched at the thought, making him shudder and sigh as well.

“You like that thought, don’t you..? I know you do,” he continued. “So shameless...”

Despite yourself, you whimpered, clenching again as another orgasm started threatening to overtake you.

“That’s it... Come for me again,” he groaned. “Come for me, my love.”

‘My love’..? Just a figure of speech, you thought. You’d thrown that phrase around, jokingly, but it’s never sounded so... raw. You wanted to hear it again. You wanted to keep hearing it.

“Your what?” you gasped.

He didn’t answer. Instead he caught your lips in a deep, devouring kiss, pinning your arms over your head.

Your body gave in and you trembled under him, caught up in waves of pleasure again.

He released your arms and eased his movements once you rode out your high, but kept kissing you, hungrily, unwilling to release your lips from his.

Clearly, no further words of love would follow, you thought to yourself with a tinge of both relief and disappointment, deciding to let it go.

“You’re so good to me,” you managed, breaking your lips from his.

“Aren’t I just?” he groaned, speeding up again to chase his own release.

You kissed your way up his jaw to his ear, pausing to nibble on his earlobe.

You couldn’t see it, but a ditsy, open-mouthed smile started to play on his face.

Astarion gasped with a sharp intake of breath as you continued further, running your tongue over the inside of the shell of his ear.

“Oh sweet hells,” he sighed with pleasure, immediately grinding into your harder.

You smiled as he tilted his head, just about pressing his ear against your lips.

“Do you like that?” you whispered in his ear, running your tongue over it again, lifting your hands to run your fingers through his hair. You knew he did. You just wanted to hear him say it.

“Yes... Don’t stop...” His words sounded like a desperate plea.

You continued to gently nibble on the edge of his ear, soft moans escaping you from his movements.

“That’s it, take what’s yours” you groaned, as his hips crashed into yours harder.

His breathing and movements were becoming more and more frantic.

“Astarion...” you whispered, grazing the shell of his ear with your lips.

He let out an uncharacteristic whimper, all his usual composure slipping from him, as he bucked his hips, fucking you with quick, shallow thrusts.

“My sweet...” you breathed against his ear.

He came completely undone, spilling into you with forceful, jagged thrusts, before finally stilling. His whole body seemed to melt into yours as he stayed on top of you, trying to regain his breath.

You wrapped your legs around his hips, not wanting to let go of him yet, but he didn’t seem to be in a hurry to lift himself from you either. Instead he trailed light, tender kisses from your neck up to your lips.

You delicately traced the contours of Astarion’s face with your fingertips, running them from his cheekbone down to his jaw, as he leaned into your caress, gazing into your eyes.

Astarion parted his lips slightly, as though to say something, only to seal them again. He tilted his head to kiss your knuckles as your fingers gradually made their way back up, to run through his hair. Eventually he spoke.

“You would really choose me over the more... blatantly obvious options you have at your disposal here?” he asked quietly.

“Haven’t I made that abundantly clear already..?”

“Well of course you have – no one else is this good,” he said with a tired smirk.

“I’m not talking about the...” you blinked. “You know I’m not with you just for the sex, right..?” you frowned, looking into his eyes.

He looked away, slipping out of you and moving to lie down next to you.

“Is that so?” he said softly.

You found yourself suddenly feeling rattled. Was he simply fishing for compliments again, or had you been utterly oblivious to just how deep his insecurities ran this whole time..?

“You have a wealth of other qualities that I... enjoy and appreciate,” you said, somewhat lamely.

Astarion propped his head up on his hand and raised an eyebrow at you quizzically. There was a hint of vulnerability in his eyes despite his outward nonchalance.

Oh for fuck’s sake, you thought. I’m not ready for any serious conversations now, especially not with cum running down my thighs.

You turned away to grab something to wipe yourself down with.

“A gentleman would clean up his own mess, by the way. Not one of your strong points. But you do have some virtues that make up for it. For instance... I can leave cheese unattended around you, knowing you won’t eat it.”

Astarion went to pinch the bridge of his nose, sighing.

“You’re a treasure trove of useless information,” you continued. “But unlike some of our companions you usually keep it to yourself.” A hint of a smile played on his lips at that.

“Your hand feels nice and cold on my forehead when I have a headache.” You laid back down next to him, mirroring the way he was lying.

“You always smell nice, especially for a dead guy. You never hog the mirror.”

“What about my hair, won’t you mention that?” he smiled.

“No, fuck your hair, it makes mine look awful in comparison.”

He chuckled at that.

“I do rather adore the garnet puppy eyes though,” you murmured. “What else... You make me laugh, and, more importantly, I make you laugh – which is great for my ego,” you continued.

“As long as you understand that I’m usually laughing at you,” he countered.

“Prick... Then there’s the fact you’ve saved my life four times.”

“Seven,” he said quietly, looking into your eyes.

“Five.”

“It’s seven, dear, I counted.”

“Whatever. When it comes to battle, you’re silent but deadly,” you said. “Like a-”

Astarion’s hand covered your mouth.

“Do not finish that thought, darling.”

You grinned from behind his palm.

“I think we can be done with this conversation,” he said.

“Wait, wait, one more...” you laughed. “You’re eccentric, unpredictable, often irrational. I never know what’s going to come out of your mouth.”

You smiled as Astarion groaned dramatically, covering his face with one hand.

“Knowing I’ll get to spend another day in your mad company gives me a reason to get up in the morning,” you added, softly.

“Come here, you sweet fool,” he whispered, drawing you against him.

You hugged him tightly. It took so long for him to start initiating these embraces that wouldn’t lead to sex... You relished each one.

Tomorrow, Astarion thought to himself, unbeknown to you. I have to tell her tomorrow.

~~~~~

Follow up bonus scene

This work is part of a series - here is the master list

Next in series - Confession

AO3

Tags: @littleenglishfangirl @something-pithy @darlingxdragon @tallymonster @tragedybunny @spunky-89

@spacebarbarianweird @kittenintheden - hey, I heard you like elf ears

#astarion #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 smut #astarion smut #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #bg3 fanfic #astarion fanfic #astarion romance #bg3 fanfiction #astarion fanfiction

2K notes · View notes

gyusrose · 5 months

Text

➵ ridin’ -> l. hs

⚠︎ smut!! (mdni)

✎ unprotected sex, dirty talk, oral (male receiving), degradation & praising, edging, creampie, mild choking, smut with no plot

summary : what the title says :)

wc: 1.4k

_______________________________________________

you couldn’t stand it. there sat your boyfriend on the couch, manspreading expecting me to walk in like nothing. you saw his recent comeback stage and oh god. the moment to press play your panties felt damp from the way he moved, especially with that cowboy hat, leaving almost nothing to the imagination.

you noticed he came home not too long ago but since you were taking a shower, you haven’t seen him yet. so the view you’re welcomed with made you even hornier if that’s possible. he hasn’t noticed you yet since he was on his phone but you couldn’t help yourself.

you walked over to where he was immediately straddling him.

“oh hey babe h-“ you shut him up by grabbing his chin harshly kissing him. heeseung had barely any time to react, but he was not complaining, at all.

the kiss was sloppy and heated, he could feel you desperation through it.

“someone missed me..” he said between kisses. his hand found their way to your waist. forcing the friction between your pussy and his crotch. you moved your hips wanting to feel more of him. he groaned, feeling himself getting hard.

your hand made its way through his hair pulling it slightly.

“i couldn’t wait to have you like this…” you said unbuttoning half of his shirt.

“ how dare you but on those tight jeans also that cowboy hat and expect me to be okay huh?”

he smirked at your comment. he loved having that power over you, he knew only he could make you feel like that.

“i didn’t do anything? not my fault you got all worked up like that.” he said innocently, still smirking. he knew how you would react.

‘this cocky motherfucker ‘ you thought. you unbuttoned his jeans and undid his zipper. getting on your knees he knew what was about to come, he sat up straight waiting for your next move.

you pulled down his jeans along with his boxers. his cock sprung out hitting his abdomen leaking with pre-cum. heeseung groaned, dying to be touched by you.

you wrapped your hands around him making them look small compared to his size. you slowly started to move your hand up and down. heeseung felt tortured. he bucked his hips trying to get more but you pulled away earning a whine.

“nuh uh, be patient.” you sternly said to which he whined even more.

you moved your hand once again. starting off slowly and gradually going a little faster. his head was laid back moaning with each movement of your hand.

you exchanged your hand with your mouth with no warning. heading hissed at the sensation from your mouth. you took him whole, holding back your gags as he pushed your head in.

heeseung looked down at you, delighted with the sight, he could cum right there. his moans got louder and louder, all that you wanted to hear.

his hips starting thrusting into your mouth, fucking into it. he saw how you didn’t stop him and thrusted faster. your moans sent vibrations to his dick sending him over the edge. before he could cum, you harshly pulled away. your pussy was throbbing by just hearing his moans. you wanted him, no, you needed him right now.

you slid your panties off then got on top of him like when you started.

“fuck i need your cock so bad” you whines while he kissed you mouth . your dominance disappeared from your neediness.

“such a desperate slut, you can’t even handle a couple of days without my cock can’t you?” heeseung said while he grabbed a hold of ass and slapping it, leaving a red hand mark. you moaned, how you loved it when he was mean.

“please hee, i need it, so fucking bad” he was holding your hips still, not allowing you to move.

“since you asked so nicely..” he said before lining up with your core, moving your hips down, sinking down his cock.

you both moaned erotically, as if y’all haven’t fucked in years.

the sole feeling of your walls tightening his dick was enough to drive the two of you crazy.

“holy shit, you’re so fucking tight.” he said as you started riding him. you’re were so desperate that you didn’t even give time to adjust to it and immediately started bouncing hastily. heeseung couldn’t stop looking at you. he was engrossed with the sight in front of him. your eyes were closed and eyebrows furrowed, bring insatiable to the feeling of him inside of you.

heeseung pulled up your shirt revealing your beautiful perky tits. he wasted no time he sucked your sensitive nipple in one while fondling the other one. he sucked your boobs and licked your nipples so damn good, you were a mess. heeseung groaned, he was on the verge of exploding but he held back, wanting to enjoy the most of the moment . his hand suddenly went to your neck choking you slightly. you almost cried out in pleasure. heeseung knew how much you loved it, he watched every second of you face biting his lip. your hand caressed his flexed arm on your neck looking at him. he pulled you in and kissed you hungrily.

“fuck i’m gonna cum.” you said in between moans. you’ve never come this fast in your life.

“nuh uh, hold it in like the whore you are, you begged for my dick and you’re about to come this fast?” he looked into your eyes. payback’s a bitch. tears were threatening to fall. not only were you about to cum but your thighs are also giving out, they’re burning. heeseung noted your struggle and took it upon himself.

“aw is my little slut tired? you love this dick so much you can’t stop huh?” he groped your ass and smacked it multiple times. you hum in response. heading still wasn’t satisfied.

“tell me what do you want me to do, use your fucking words.” he harshly said.

“ please fuck me..” you weakly said. wasn’t enough still.

“i want you to pound your cock inside of my little pussy baby.”

that was enough to send heeseung crazy. he hugged your hips while he, like you asked, pounded into you with no remorse.

the lewd sounds coming out of the two of you plus the rough skin slapping echoed throughout the apartment. his thrusts were harsh, you had to grab a hold of his broad shoulders for support.

you looked at your two bodies glistening with sweat. you ran one hand through his abs, which flexed with every fuck, it looked straight out of a porno.

“shit shit i need to cum, please baby, please, i need it, i want to cum all over your cock.” you whimpered , heeseung couldn’t hold it anymore, he needed to as well.

“cum, cum all over my cock baby, cum like the good girl you are.” your body tensed up after he said those words. you leaned your head down on his neck as you came all over him.

heeseung followed through, holding you tighter as he groaned with his last thrust, spilling all his load deep inside of you.

you had to take a second. you were both breathing heavily like after a workout, which it kinda was.

you finally got off the crook of his neck looking at him. he smiled then pecked your lips softly. totally different demeanor than a couple of minutes ago.

“don’t ever tease me like that ever again okay?” you said referring to his performance.

he chuckled. “ if it means i’ll be welcomed like this, then i might do it all the time.”

3K notes · View notes

hoseoksluna · 4 months

Text

PRACTICE | jjk

pairing: dom!jungkook x reader

genre: smut; fluff

word count: 4.9k

summary: you make jungkook proud by practicing what he taught you.

warnings: jungkook smiling and being all dominant!!!, also manly as fuck, use of his korean name cuz it's hot, masturbation, reader is horny and just a girl!!, biker mask (gasp), edging, orgasm denial, oral sex (f. receiving), dom/sub dynamics, squirting, desperation, porn, use of a sex toy, brief nipple play, spanking, bratty behavior <3, degradation, praise, the beauty of cumming together, mentions of sex, aftercare

note: it's entirely jungkook's fault that i wrote this bc he made me h word. i hope you enjoy the very first of the many smutty one shots i'm planning to write!! i had the time of my life writing this, imagining 3D!jungkook cuz he's just so delicious there. my weakness. fuck my life!! pls let me know what you think <3 like and comment (reblogs r very useful but i won't pressure u angel). love you!!

side note: i rly fucking miss jungkook. that's all. byebye

Stars fill your vision as your hand works wonders between the softness of your legs. You are fucked. Oh so deliciously, majestically and colossally fucked. And you whimper once the wave of that pleasure you burn for unfolds within your body. Arch your back. Roll your hips. Huff and puff until you near your breaking point. Then you lift your hand.

The surge ebbs away and you sink your teeth into your puffy bottom lip, desperation scorching each and every perimeter of your skin.

You enjoy this. The smug on your face couldn’t be wiped off even if you tried. You've been going at this for a dozen of minutes, sitting on your dark green couch with your legs spread, one hand rubbing circles on your needy bundle of nerves, the other gripping your phone with all its might, how it hasn’t cramped yet is beyond you, as it plays a dirty porn that does very little to quench your thirst. Your closest friend for the time being, have been ‘for the time being’ for much longer than you care to admit, a small pink vibrator Pinkie, keeps you company beside you while you swallow every grunt and whimper the couple in the video makes. It's turned off, however. Resting in the shadow of the threatening calamite that your shaking thighs are. You can't edge yourself with it when you're this fucked, so deeply lost in the rosy maze of lust. You would have to keep the head on your clit for merely a second, otherwise you'd be coming, and you'd be coming fast but not very hard. And where’s the fun in that? It still keeps you thirsty, your insides begging you again and again for another hit of dopamine, for just one drop of cum. Well, your pussy mainly.

It’s a persistent problem for you. You get horny, you touch yourself and you come under two minutes or less. The hit so small in quantity, so weak in quality that you inescapably need more than one round to be satisfied. The situation is even more problematic when you get down to it with your boyfriend. It doesn’t matter much when you’re on the receiving end; you enjoy yourself, you look forward to his dick splitting you open, so it just cuts time. Although it does matter when he fucks you like the man he is. You clamp down on him, and he comes as fast as you do. You can’t help it. You’re so enamored with him, with his masculinity and his dominance, it burns your body alive. Who are you to tell your body no? It’s impossible. He’s impossible, and absolutely irresistible. Though you wish you could get lost in the pleasure, and you truly do each time you have sex, and it gets unfairly swept away from you. You’re just a thirsty girl. This unjust treatment pisses you off.

You opened up to your boyfriend about this and he laughed in your face, stroking your cheek. Told you it’s what he loves about you and you just rolled your eyes, dismissing it. Then he took your hand and sat you down again, offering you a solution that changed your life. For the worst at first, for the better the more you did it.

He suggested you try edging yourself when you play with your pussy. He showed you the ropes the first time, guiding you through a long process of denied orgasms, and you wanted to strangle him. You had to lift your hand when he said so, otherwise you were getting spanked. The joke was on him because you enjoyed the harsh sting, the roughness of his palm on your skin. But then it was him who was laughing when he pinned your arms above your head and confiscated your pleasure. You squirmed. Whined. Waited. Then he fingered you and you came so hard you saw stars, the orgasm just kept going and going. You were satisfied after one round. Problem fixed.

“Practice it until your body learns,” he had told you and you almost came again.

What a man.

The memory of this teaching lesson is what got you thirsty right now, actually.

You pay attention to the way the guy in the video squishes the tits of the lucky girl in the video and fucks them with his cock. You moan, lowering your fingers to your clit again and starting a series of slow circles. Your fingers are slippery from your leaking essence and the sweat on your folds from your marvelous torment, and it turns you on even more. You feel your orgasm coming, despite your pace, and you eat your fist in exasperation. Should you say fuck it and finally make yourself come? You hear the order uttered by your boyfriend in the back of your head, remember how long he told you to edge for that one time, and you want to make him proud (you do!), but then the girl licks at the slit of his cock and you clench around nothing. You want that so bad and you groan, anger and desperation creating something so sinful, so unhinged inside of you.

Resuming your movement on your bud, you pick up the pace because fuck it, you can’t take it anymore. The pressure, the anticipation of chasing after what you desire is so sweet and it fills you with energy and giddiness. Fuck jogging, now you're sprinting, clenching your muscles, nearing closer and closer to the finish line. You lift your knees, riding your hand, moans spilling from your mouth. You'd come right on the spot if it wasn't for the ding of a sudden text message snapping you out of your daze.

Your heart thuds in your chest. Fuck, did you not turn on 'do not disturb'?

koo: I'm here

You stare at the notification in disbelief. Beneath it, the guy is fucking the girl's throat. You screech, burying your face in your hands. What is your boyfriend doing here so early? You aren't supposed to see each other until later tonight, or are you forgetting something? Your mind is spinning, another denied orgasm taking a toll on you. Sighing, you slip your legs into your panties and your plush pajama pants, your feet finding their comfort in your fluffy slippers. Since he's here, he's gonna make himself extremely useful, you decide, putting on your warm bathrobe with Mickey Mouse on it and grabbing your keys.

As you descend the stairs from your apartment, the sticky wetness between your legs makes you uncomfortable. Your eyebrows furrow in anger. Does a girl really have to suffer in order to reach a mind-blowing orgasm these days? You scoff to yourself, sinking your key into the lock of the door to the main building. The key doesn't budge, though, and it almost makes you punch that fucking door. The lock has been sporadically working and not working for months, hence why the door needs to stay locked properly at all times, and nobody has so far taken the time to call someone to repair it. You kick the door with your knee and you hear a laugh behind it. You recognize it belongs to your boyfriend and you smile to yourself, finding the sweet sound stupidly cute. Your hand reaches for the key again and you turn it. To your surprise, the lock doesn't fuck around and actually lets you see your boyfriend.

Jeongguk is standing beside his motorcycle, black helmet under his armpit. Your eyes widen when they discover his face is hidden under a biker mask of the same color. You haven’t seen him with his bike in quite some while. He prefers to drive you around in his car lately. It’s winter after all. He keeps you warm, sneaks his fingers between your legs, rubs your pussy through your jeans to tease you because he likes it when you’re needy for the rest of the evening. Oh, and you eat there so icicles don’t hang from your hands. Food, that is. You get it.

It’s a wonderful surprise, nonetheless. Only his orbs and eyebrows are visible, his pouty mouth creates shapes on the mask that almost causes you to see stars again. Yeah, you think you could come like this, staring at his tall figure dressed in a puffer jacket and gray baggy jeans laying dangerously low on his hips. Even though you know how big his dick is, the size of them makes him appear even bigger and you salivate. Your pussy drools, too. You're about to get on your knees right now, you don't care.

"Looks like I'm gonna have to fix that fucking lock myself," Jeongguk remarks.

Oh, fuck. He's so manly.

Just one suck. Fuck, please. Just one.

You're going to scrape your fucking knees on the ground for everyone to see, you genuinely don't care. He deserves it for looking like that, for acting like such a man.

Your clit gains a heartbeat (again) and you blink up at him, desperation once again unfurling its flames under your skin. You smile behind the pain, finding the whole situation completely ridiculous now.

"I'd be grateful," you purr and Jeongguk walks towards you, smiling like the little shit he is, helmet still under his armpit. You lift the hem of his mask to reveal his delicious lips, piercing-less. You kiss him, moonstruck. "I'm tired of this shitty lock."

Jeongguk nods. "Noted." Then he kisses you again. "It was funny how you kicked it."

You laugh. He takes off the mask entirely and you both walk up the stairs to your apartment, though a pang of disappointment hangs onto your heart. You wish he kept the mask on. It was nonsensically hot to you. A lightbulb flares to life in your mind abruptly and you hide your smirk beneath the curtain of your hair.

Yeah, you’re going to make him wear it as you suck him dry.

Your giddiness extends to another level and you hurriedly walk up the rest of the stairs to your apartment, your butt jiggling under your thick robe.

Jeongguk walks in like he owns the place. He sets his helmet on the kitchen island and his mask right beside it. You watch as he empties out his pockets. Wallet, phone, keys, a pack of cigarettes and a purple lighter. Leaning over, he hangs his winter jacket on one of the barstools. His back muscles ripple under his oversized black T-shirt with each movement of his arms. What steals your attention, however, is the sliver of skin that he unwittingly lets you see as he fixes his jeans to rest a little higher on his hips.

White Calvins.

Oh, yes.

The dip of his spine on his lower back.

You lick your lips.

The smallness of his waist that grows into such a vulgar broadness of his shoulders.

Fuck, you do everything you can to not bite onto your finger; instead you opt to hide your drool beneath your hand as you continue to wait behind him, tracing your lower lip with the acrylic nail on your thumb, diabolical with your stand and your plan. Crossed arms, needy pussy and all.

What a man.

What a fucking man.

You squeeze your thighs together.

When he turns away from the kitchen, you leap to the counter. You snatch the mask and gaze at it lovingly. Such an innocent thing, and it made you this hot and bothered. You shake your head at the bizarreness of it all, but your smile remains.

"What the fuck were you doing here?"

You gasp at the sternness in his tone, hiding the mask under your armpit similarly like he did with his helmet downstairs. You don't understand where his abrupt austerity stems from, but it makes your legs wobbly, so much that you bump into him as you hurry to see what he sees, grabbing his arm as if to say sorry. And then your heart drops.

A round wet spot adorns your dark green couch, where you sat and pleasured yourself before he came. Your best friend Pinkie, sticky and lifeless, almost beams at you in mischief. A smile of your own begins to quiver on your lips before you burst into giggles, a tiny amount of shyness painting your cheeks with rosiness.

“I was practicing?” you answer truthfully, lilting your voice a little bit.

Jeongguk closes his eyes at your words, his lips forming a thin line. Hangs his head. Slouches in your grip. It is a stark contrast to how he entered your apartment. His breath quickens and you watch the raise and the fall of his chest. You realize this means only one thing.

"Are you crazy?" Jeongguk says, eyes still closed. "Do you even realize what you've just done to me?"

He finally looks at you and your heart drops further down your belly. Fire splashes around in his eyes, akin to yours. He straightens his posture, turning his body to face you. Feet spread apart, he crosses his arms across his chest. Veins prominent, muscles like strings oscillating on his forearm as he taps his fingers on his elbow.

Your weakness.

Fuck.

Your breath hitches in your throat.

"And what's this?" He points to what you stole from him. He doesn't take it from you.

You suddenly remember your plan. Being so absorbed in his masculine energy, you forgot everything. Even your own name.

"Well, I had this idea," you start.

He hums in interest. Butterflies break havoc in your stomach.

"And what idea was that?" He cocks his head to the side, studying you.

You started, but you don't think you can finish. Not when you're so wet that you can feel your slick trickle out of the confines of your thin panties. Not when his stance makes you feel like you did something very bad and the next word that comes out of your mouth decides your punishment. Not when it thrills you this much.

Swallowing dryly, you avert your gaze. Do you say it or do you play dumb? Sweat prickles at the back of your neck, eyes falling to his crotch. Those cursed fucking jeans do a poor job of hiding his growing member and you tremble, itching to sink onto the hardwood floor, itching to palm him through the harsh fabric just to hear him hiss through his teeth. The impulse to do it, to simply be a brat and do what you want while he stares you down, fills your every vein, but you know better. Once you hit a nerve, Jeongguk doesn’t let you cum (at all) and you can’t sit on your bottom for a week. You can’t afford that right now.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. You need your relief, and you need it desperately. You will behave if it means you’ll receive it from him.

"I was thinking," you mutter, fluttering your eyelashes open. “You could put this on while I make you feel good."

Nodding once, Jeongguk hums again. You feel the deep vibrations of his voice coursing down your body, starting from your cheeks. They warm them and paint them in pink, then they continue over the swell of your chest, leaving behind little pearls of sweat, until they reach your cunt. There they strengthen the pulse of your needy bud and you can’t take it anymore. You sigh audibly, hoping it prompts your boyfriend to do something.

“Make me feel good how?” he questions you.

You look up at him. His eyes are lowered into slits, woozy from arousal. You truly did turn him on with the mere evidence of your self-indulgence. You buzz from this achievement, a puckish smirk appearing on your mouth.

Jeongguk pries the mask away from your hold, keeps it in his grasp and with his other hand, he unravels the knot of your robe with his fingers, sliding it off your shoulders. He cocks his eyebrow at you, waiting for your answer.

Fuck it, you’re giving it your all. Anything to get fucked in the way you want, in the way you know he can give it to you.

“I get on my knees for you. Play with your tip, take you as far as I can until I choke on it, then I suck on your—“

He grabs your chin harshly and raises it to his level. That’s enough, he said with that gesture and you leak down your thighs. No matter how strongly the words, ‘can I finish my fucking sentence’ hangs off the top of your tongue, you remain quiet. Obedient.

He cups your pussy through your pajama pants with his other hand, inching closer to you until his figure swallows you. His soft moan reaches your ear once he discovers how slippery your pussy is against your silky underwear and your stomach flips. You, on the other hand, don’t feel much where you need him due to the thickness of the material. It adds to your frustration quite plenty, though. This what you get for being good?

Inhaling deeply, he levels his eyesight with yours. “How many times did you come, hm?”

Your breath hitches and you lower your eyes, shyness caused from his dominance taking every bit of confidence you had left. His words blaze your insides—he knows you so well. He knows how obsessed you’ve become with playing with yourself ever since he told you to practice. Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose. The latter being more frequent, hence why you exerted yourself today. He knows this. For some reason it makes this moment even more intimate and stimulating for you. But you don’t let him know that.

“What makes you think I lost this time?” you retort, the brattiness slipping through before you could control it.

His fingers aren’t doing nearly enough to give you the relief you seek and you whine, grinding your hips against his curious fingers. Much to your dismay, he still keeps his pressure light. Pretends to be blind to your desperation. You let out a huff of air, hooking your thumbs beneath the waistband of your pants, anger fueling you on.

You barely manage to pull it down before Jeongguk turns you around. He locks your arms in his grasp from behind, tugs the pants beneath the swell of your ass and smacks your cheek, leaving a rippling effect in its wake. He then grabs your face from behind to make you look at him.

“Did I fucking ask you to take ‘em off?”

You’d come on the spot if you could. But you’re still angry.

“No, I asked you a simple question,” Jeongguk continues. “And I expect you to answer.”

You bite your lip and furrow your eyebrows. “Jeongguk, I’m so wet there’s a fucking puddle in my panties. I can’t take it anymore. Please, I need to come.”

Jeongguk raises his at your answer and hums lowly, grinding his hips into your ass and arching your back even further in this position. You moan distinctly at the feeling of his member, engorged and hard.

Jeongguk lets go of your arms and presses you against him fully, lowering his hand to wrap his fingers around your throat, the other around your middle. You love it like this the most, cocooned in his embrace from behind—you can’t see him, but you can feel him, you can feel the firmness of his touch, the solidness of his body, and you know he’s there.

“How many times?” he asks once again, more gently this time, lips tracing the shape of your ear. He rubs your belly to soothe you and you close your eyes, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. A smile, a mischievous one, much like the one your best friend Pinkie had, threatens to appear on your lips. He has turned into a soft dom for you and it makes you weak. So much that all you want to do right now is give him pleasure.

You begin to rotate your hips against him and he hisses, cursing under his breath. Yes, that’s precisely what you wanted to hear. You put more pressure into your movement and he slides your hand down your mound to stop you, his tongue coming to play with your ear. Fuck, okay. You listen, transferring your teasing elsewhere.

“Zero,” you finally answer, figuring he deserves the reward.

Jeongguk grabs your shoulders and turns you around, pinching his eyebrows together. “Don’t believe you. There’s no fucking way you’d leave it wet like that without coming at least three—“

“I was about to come before you so rudely interrupted me.”

His eyes darken and you realize you fucked up.

He takes his hands off of you and starts walking, causing you to walk backwards to your couch.

“My apologies.” He pushes you to sit down on the soiled spot, taking a seat right in front of you on the coffee table. “Don’t let me interrupt you any further. Please“—He hooks his fingers under your pajama pants along with your underwear and takes it off in one go—“continue. Make yourself come.”

You gulp. Fuck, if that isn’t the hottest thing you ever heard.

He scoots closer to you on the coffee table and extends your legs over his. You ogle him. The manspread, the tent in his pants, the serious look on his face. You slip your hand to your clit and start rubbing, your eyes closing as pleasure floods you. Finally. You moan, and you moan loudly.

“Nuh-uh.”

You sigh before you open your eyes. There he goes, interrupting you again. A familiar buzzing fills your ears.

You startle as the highest setting tickles your hand in an uncomfortable way. Jeongguk, wearing the mask now, wraps your hand around the vibrator and guides it to your clit, interlacing his fingers with yours in the process. Fuck, he did not just do that. You’re moaning before it even reaches you, your walls clenching around nothing.

“There you go,” he lifts his intense gaze from your pussy to your eyes. “Now come.”

And you do.

You squirt all over your intertwined hands, squirming uncontrollably while holding eye contact with him until he controls you, sliding his other free hand to your waist to hold you down. He moves the vibrator to your slit to give your puffy clit a break, collecting your juices. Then, another wave comes: Jeongguk slips the head back to your clit and presses down hard before quickly fixing a steady rhythm of going up and down. You’re just holding it, holding his hand. Taking the pleasure he gives you. Convulsing, clenching and screaming, coming so hard your eyes roll back—stars finally coming to stay.

Then, you’re pushing him away when overstimulation perfuses your body with a blunt pain. You close your legs. You thrash with yourself. But he’s stronger. The hand that was on your waist lifts up your bralette and uncovers your tits. The same fingers plunge into your mouth and you suck on them, calming down, earning an appreciative hum from him. He flicks your nipple, touches your breast, the nub deliciously rubbing against his rough palm. Pushes your other one to the mix so he can focus on both of your nipples at once, holds them like that as they bounce in his grip. You lift your pelvis, furiously riding the wave of an upcoming orgasm that will probably take you out.

You lose the sense of time and space when you come for the third time.

You’re gushing, leaking, bursting, both hands—yours and his—dripping wet with your dewiness. You think you’re levitating, but his firm touch grounds you, and when you open your eyes, Jeongguk is breathing hard. He’s watching you thoroughly; you can’t tell what he’s thinking, features still hidden by that mask. Your mind is empty, incapable of forming one coherent thought. You’re completely brainless. Fucked out.

Jeongguk gets on his knees and leans towards you. He tears his mask off, sweat pooling at his hairline.

“How pitiful,” he smiles. “So much for practicing.”

He gives you a filthy kiss full of tongue and you roll your body against his. His chest rubs against your nipples and it sends sparks of electricity through you.

“You wouldn’t last. Not a chance.”

You groan into his mouth. He’s so close that his musky scent is intoxicating you, his T-shirt is wet and your core is pressed against the one part of his stomach that the cloth exposed. It’s so warm and soul-stirring to you. You whine from the overstimulation of it all, especially the degradation.

“Jeongguk, I came so hard,” you tell him, coming up for some air.

He kisses your jaw. “I know. So fucking hot.” Takes his groans and presses them in the form of kisses into all the sensitive spots of your neck. “You made yourself come this hard, I’m proud.”

You moan. So moonstruck. So enamored. So satisfied.

Jeongguk lifts his head from the crook of your neck and grins at you. You reciprocate.

“That was so good,” you whisper and bite your lip, stroking his hair back. You find you’ve broken the skin already, but you don’t mind. “So, so good.”

His eyes drop to your mouth, then at the pearls of your pleasure on your chest.

“So filthy. Need to clean you up.”

Your stomach flips.

He laps them up, collecting them with his tongue. One at the top of your sternum, the middle of your breasts, the long dip on your stomach. Pearl after pearl, butterfly after butterly breaking havoc again in you. You’re swaying your hips before he even gets to your mound.

“Needy again? I haven’t finished here yet.”

A little, but not as desperately as before. You’re enjoying it. Feels as though you’re allowed to. And you tell him.

He smiles. Starts a series of open-mouthed kisses on your inner thigh. Sighs against your skin when you play with his hair, gently scratch his scalp with your manicured nails. Rubs your wet thighs, sucking the skin and biting it. Hard and soft, the blend of it. You’re on cloud nine.

“Gonna reward you,” he announces. You suck in your stomach, biting your lip. He touches your cunt and the digits just glide. Straight to your hole that needs his cum. “For doing such a good job. Fuck, you’re so wet.”

He rubs it in circles, teasing you. Watches your reaction. You throw your head back, moving your hips in tandem with the pads of his fingers. Soaked enough, he slips them into your mouth so you can taste yourself. You mewl. Sense his hot breath on your pussy. Sense him shifting in his spot erratically and you figure he’s grinding his hard cock against the couch.

“My turn now.”

He closes his puffy lips around your clit. Swirls the tip of his tongue around it. Merry go round, you throw your head back, enjoying the sensation. Then he puts pressure around the muscle and goes counterclockwise. Now you’re spinning, unable to stop the sounds, inter-threaded with his name, from slipping out of your mouth. Then he decides to tease you. Widens his laps of circles. Reaches your folds, makes them wetter. And it makes you feral, the waiting for the pleasure. You grip his hair, grinding into his face. His moans reach your ears again, and suddenly it’s too much. He sucks on your clit, and he sucks hard. Lifts your hips in the air and just ravages your cunt, licking up and swallowing all that you’re offering to him as he fucks his cock into the couch.

He’s grunting, rapidly shaking his head from side to side. You’re obscenely loud. His thrusts quicken as do the skilled flicks of his tongue. It’s way too fucking much and you’re screaming, but you let him. You let him until he rams his hips for the last time, until he sucks so hard that your hearing sense leaves you for a moment, and you’re coming. And so is he.

You don’t even know how long it takes before you fully come down, but you know one thing for sure. That when he stands up and you’re blessed with the sight of his unbuttoned jeans, his cock dripping with last drops of cum through his white (almost see-through) underwear, he deserves to be cleaned up by you just the same.

You make grabby hands at him when he returns with wet wipes.

“What is it, baby?” He sinks to his knees in front of you, taking out the wipe to clean you properly.

“Need you in my mouth. Please.”

He laughs softly and you think that sound will be your demise.

“You’re exhausted,” he tells you, wiping down your folds. “What you need is sleep.”

You don’t have the strength to prove him wrong. You’re spent.

He picks you up in his arms and takes you to your bed. He covers you in your fluffy blanket, knowing full well you hate to be under the duvet when you’re just napping. Tucks you in. Sits beside you. Brushes your hair back. Fixes the blanket so it rests under your chin, and not over your mouth. You watch him with droopy eyes as he does it all.

“Did so well today,” he murmurs. “But no overworking yourself so much next time, arasseo?”

You nod. “We came together again.”

He traces the dimple on your cheek caused by your contended smile. Finds himself smiling too. “That’s just how our bodies work together,” he tells you, hovering his thumb over your bloodied lip so as to not hurt you. “Can’t be helped.”

You nod again, warmth swarming in your chest. “I love it,” you admit. “I love you.”

Jeongguk presses a kiss into your hair. “No, I love you.”

“No.”

He shushes you. “Sleep well, baby,” he strokes you. Kisses you. Pets you. Can’t get enough. Hates to leave you. “My baby, my love, my girl.”

You hum. Sleep slinks you away to its land, smile remaining on your mouth.

Jeongguk returns to your living room and gets some cleaning supplies ready. Breaks a sweat making your dark green couch spotless. Takes a shower. Settles beside you on the bed. Cocoons you in his arms. Looks for you in dreamland.

BACK to masterlist

#jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts imagine #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fluff #btscreatorscorner #kpop smut #jungkook one shot

2K notes · View notes

acourtofwhatthefuck · 7 months

Text

Practice On Me — Part Three — Azriel x Reader

Summary: It’s not an Illyrian party without at least one person starting a fight. Azriel is a jealous little shit. Y/N wants to put the smile right back on his face.

(I really don’t want to ruin this chapter for u but I finished writing it and all I could hear was Camilla Cabello in my head singing “I’llll be hooome for chwismois” — you’ll see why)

Word count: 6.2k

Warnings: Some fiiiilthy language. 18+, NSFW, smut, minors dni 🌶️

It’s not that you and the others are trying to take advantage of Rhysand’s mother’s absence. But having an empty property at your disposal definitely comes in handy.

Particularly on nights like these, two weeks later, when the cottage is packed full with more people than it can reasonably host. There’s drinking and conversation and faces you don’t even recognise, and someone has brought Elpys Vine, a herb grown by someone’s sketchy great uncle on the continent that’s supposed to make you hallucinate.

Judging by the empty chair that a male opposite you keeps winking at, you think it’s probably having the desired effect.

The spot next to you dips down as Azriel takes a seat at your side. He hands you a drink, and so naturally, his arm drapes around your shoulders. It’s comforting — and also a relief, to know that things are still normal after what happened on this very couch two weeks earlier. Not a slither of awkwardness.

But your eyes have most definitely been snagging on every unfamiliar female around you and wondering if one of them could be the target of Azriel’s affections. If Kaeda is here tonight, he hasn’t said so.

Part of you wants to ask, and part of you…doesn’t. For whatever reason.

“This is definitely already way out of hand.” Az comments, cocking an eyebrow as he takes in the volume of people packed into the small space. “I thought it was supposed to be a small gathering.”

“That’s what Cassian told me, too.” You say, and then curiosity gets the better of you. You try to make it seem casual as you study the various females dotted throughout the room. “Is Kaeda here?”

Azriel’s eyes find yours, and he gives a small shake of his head. “No.”

“You didn’t invite her?”

“I didn’t invite anyone. That was Cassian’s job.”

You heave a very dramatic sigh indeed. Sometimes, Azriel is his own worst enemy.

Not that you’ve minded helping him so far — not at all. But surely there must come a point where he directs all he’s learnt at the intended person.

“I will make my move.” He tells you. “I’m just…not quite there yet. Still working on it.”

Fair enough, you suppose. Before you can say anything else, Cassian is suddenly slumping haphazardly into the space at your other side. One of Azriel’s shadows snakes out and clasps your drink before it can slosh down your front.

“Time for a game.” Cassian calls to the room, and you want to groan. Games with Cassian usually ensure chaos. “Let’s play Knife Point.”

There are enough enthusiastic responses that you know your reluctance will be wildly outnumbered. Knife Point is a game that’s used as a ruse to kiss as many people as you like — something you delighted in at fifteen, when kissing was still new to you, but you don’t feel quite the same excitement five years later. It’s pretty simple: a knife is placed in the centre of the table, and the players gather round. One-by-one, everyone takes their turns spinning the knife, and whoever the point settles on when it stops is who the spinner must kiss.

Basic, really. But Cassian loves kissing people.

You and Azriel share a look — one that says he’s no more excited for this than you are. And then you both crack a grin and settle into your seats, because you’ll always go along with Cassian’s shenanigans, even if you complain about them first.

“It seems only fair that the future high lord starts us off,” Cassian says, and slams a dagger down on the coffee table with unguarded enthusiasm. He grins at Rhys, who’s sat in an adjacent armchair with a curvy redhead on his lap. “Rhysand, darling — would you do the honours?”

Rhys flutters thick, dark lashes and gently removes the female from his thigh. “It would be my pleasure.”

The room watches closely as he spins the knife in a sleek way that has a few gazes heating. It spins fast, and then slows, slows, before landing on a female to his right whose name you don’t know. He angles himself towards her, and the smile he gives her most definitely has her falling head-over-heels in love, and the heated kiss he lands on her mouth most definitely has her falling head-over-heels in lust. She looks genuinely heartbroken when it comes to an end.

But then it’s her turn, and she’s kissing Jonan, an ex-fling of yours, and then Jonan is kissing Cassian, and then Cass is spinning the dagger and it’s pointing at you.

Your friend bellows a comical shriek of delight and jumps up so enthusiastically that this time, Az’s shadows can’t stop your drink from spilling. Cass is utterly oblivious as he turns to you with a wicked grin, holding his arms out.

“Come here, sweetpea.” He uses the nickname he’s called you for as long as you can remember. “Come make all my heated dreams come true.”

You snort, handing Az what remains of your drink and pushing to your feet. You intend to deliver a quick peck to Cassian’s lips, but so typically, he clasps your face with enough force to lift you from the floor, and his mouth lands heavily on yours.

Immediately, a chorus of jeers and laughs ring out around the circle. Cassian’s huge hand cups your jaw, and he kisses you like you’ve seen him kiss countless males and females before. It doesn’t matter that you’re his friend, an old comfort blanket — he gives you the exact same energy he gives them. He doesn’t do things by halves.

And the kiss certainly isn’t bad, if not a little strange. You can think of far worse people to be doing this with right now.

It goes on a little longer than necessary, and when you feel it deepen, feel Cassian’s tongue probing yours, you break away. Make a dramatic show of grimacing and wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Damn.” Jonan snorts. “You didn’t kiss me like that, Cass.”

Cass smirks. “You’re not half as pretty, nor half as arousing.”

They squabble, and the game continues, and you slump back down by Azriel’s side, already tuning out the noise. You turn to retrieve your drink, only to find Az draining the rest of it.

“Hey.” You knock your arm against his. “I was going to finish that.”

He stares forward, not even looking at you as he quietly replies, “I figured you were too busy.”

Your face creases into a frown as you take in the stiff, rigid set of his body. He’s damn near hunched in that corner of the couch, and it can’t be comfortable with how his wings are a little squished, but it seems almost as if…as if he’s trying to put some space between you.

You try not to think too much about it as you return your attention to the game once more. The knife continues spinning and people continue kissing, and only once does the blade point in Azriel’s direction, to which he tersely announces he was never playing to begin with.

It’s that which makes you realise the reason behind his mood going south. He’s only just started exploring the art of kissing with you, only just started becoming comfortable with it. The last thing he’ll want to do is make a whole song and dance about it and kiss a near stranger in front of a group of people.

Combine that with his natural aversion to huge gatherings, and it makes sense, now, why he’s clutching your empty cup so tightly, and the muscle in his jaw keeps moving.

When everyone else is distracted, you place a hand on his arm.

“Why don’t we go for a walk?” You suggest. “Get some fresh air.”

But he barely looks at you. Just keeps staring forward. He shoots a quick, hard look in Cassian’s direction and rips it away just as fast.

“I’m fine here.” He says. “You knock yourself out.”

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

You know Azriel well enough to know when his social tolerance is at an all-time-low, and being at a party is the worst possible thing for him.

He goes more and more into himself, his brooding, and he seems to emanate an invisible signal that warns people to stay far, far away. Not even the drunken, giggling females approach him. The Shadowsinger is in a dangerous mood, and it won’t take much to set him off.

He doesn’t seem all that interested in talking to you, either, given that all your attempts have been met with quiet, one-worded responses. And so, figuring he’ll come to you when he feels like it, you wander off to get yourself another drink, and you sink into the throes of the party.

At some point, you feel a warm touch on your forearm, and you turn to find Jonan there. He’s a damn nice male — for an Illyrian. A little cocky, maybe, but kind. Not the sexist brute that so many of them turn out to be. You and he had been two eighteen-year-olds, excited about exploring each other’s bodies and sex in general. Realistically, it was never going to go anywhere, but you ended things in good spirits, and you’ve very casually fallen into each other’s beds on a few occasions since.

Judging by the way his dark eyes drink you in, you’re sure he’s hoping that tonight will end in the same manner.

“I haven’t seen you in a while.” You say as you pull back from the hug he gives you.

His eyes seem to glimmer with flirtation. “Perhaps you haven’t been looking hard enough.”

You snort. “Or perhaps you don’t train close enough for us to run into each other all that often.”

That’s definitely it. The Illyrian males are sorted into different training groups based on a whole host of different things. Unsurprisingly, Rhys, Cassian and Azriel are in the most skilled group. Jonan is in a different one.

And it’s Jonan’s group, you know, that has just got back from a harsh training exercise that takes them away for weeks at a time. Which is the most likely cause of you having not seen him in passing.

Azriel’s group will be the next to go on one last training exercise before everyone breaks for the winter solstice. They’ll be setting off any day now, as soon as they’re called forth by their general. A few weeks without your three closest friends is a thought you don’t want to linger on.

“How was the training exercise?” You ask, genuinely interested. There will always be a part of you that wishes that was you, out there, putting your skills to use.

But you’re female. And females stay behind.

“Fucking brutal.” Jonan answers. “The weather is bad this year, so we were out there a week longer than we were supposed to be. My sleep pattern is still fucked.”

“Sounds like you need to relax.”

“Oh, I do.” His eyes trail down your body. “Perhaps you can help me with that.”

You open your mouth, not entirely sure what you mean to reply. All you know is that you’re not jumping at the offer of easy, mindless sex like you have done in the past.

But before you can respond, Jonan is stumbling forward, into you. Thanks to a huge, muscled body knocking into him.

He whips around to face Azriel, spilled drink forgotten in his hand. You didn’t even see Az‘s approach.

“Watch it, Shadowsinger.” Jonan narrows his eyes at him. “You almost knocked Y/N over.”

Azriel stops and eyes Jonan with clear dismissal. A rare, antagonising expression sits on his flawless features. “Are you talking to me?”

“Do you see any other shadowy fucks around here?”

One side of Azriel’s lips twitch up in satisfaction. So rarely does he waste his time looking for a fight, but he’s looking for one now — and has found one.

“What I see,” he says, and steps closer to Jonan, towering over him considerably, “is an irritating little cunt who’s in my way. Move.”

But Jonan doesn’t move. Like a typical Illyrian, he salivates at the prospect of a punch-up. He looks a little pathetic as he tries to square up against Az.

“Now, now, Azriel,” he sneers. “That’s no way to talk about Y/N, is it?”

And the mention of your name in Jonan’s mouth is all it takes for Azriel to launch himself at him. There’s not nearly enough room for this, and as he grabs Jonan by the front of his tunic and slams him against the wall, all sorts of surrounding objects go flying.

At once, everyone is turning to watch the confrontation. And so fucking typically, of all the people in the room, neither Rhysand nor Cassian are anywhere to be found.

Which means you’re dealing with this alone. Because nobody else will care to break this up.

You curse quietly and jump in just as Jonan goes to land a hit on Azriel’s jaw. He falters as you throw yourself between them as best as you can at the angle. It’s not great, but you manage to wedge an arm between them.

“Hey. Enough.” You snap, and it feels like all the times you’ve reprimanded the camp younglings. “Cut this out right now.”

Jonan scowls. And actually says, “He started it.”

It makes you never want to have sex with him again. Never have you been drier between your thighs.

“I don’t give a shit. It stops now.” You stare between them seriously, and then you’re firmly grasping Azriel’s arm. “Az, we’re leaving. Now.”

There’s a moment’s hesitation, like Azriel really, really does not want to give up the fight. But then he’s letting go of Jonan’s shirt, more or less dropping him to the floor.

“Fine by me.” Az fucking smirks at the male. “Enjoy the rest of your night.”

You don’t spare Jonan a single further look as Azriel grabs your hand and pulls you through the thralls of people, all disappointed at a fight not coming to fruition. But their attention is quickly stolen by something else, and you don’t look back as you and Az step out into the cold.

Az begins to walk as though the past minute never even happened. You’re quick to catch up to him and grab hold of his forearm.

“Hey.” Your breath clouds in front of your face in the cold night air. “What was that?”

Azriel shrugs. “It was nothing. He is nothing.”

“You—”

“It’s fucking freezing, Y/N. Can we just go?”

You stare back at him. The urge to pry more, demand an explanation, is a strong one. But it is freezing, and in this frame of mind, you’re not certain he’ll tell you anything, anyway. He’s in a strange mood — probably in anticipation of the upcoming training exercise. Perhaps unwisely, you decide to drop it.

“Go where?” You concede. The biting cold makes the decision to do so much easier.

“Dormitories. You can stay with me tonight.”

Dormitories is a very generous term for the limited accommodation that is offered to each training legion. Most of it sits unused, due to the majority of Illyrians preferring the harsh, toughening dwellings of tents and crumbling old houses in all extreme weathers. But a certain amount of small, draughty rooms are available, and Az tends to make use of his when the cottage begins to feel too crowded, and he needs a break from living on top of Rhys and Cass.

There’s no hammering droves of snow tonight, and you’ve patched up your boots enough to hopefully last you a little longer. A broad expanse of stars glimmers above you, making it a rather pleasant night for a stroll — or it would be, if not for the unavoidable presence of Azriel’s bad mood.

Your attempts at conversation are met with non-committal responses, and by the time you’re kicking through the peeling wooden door to the accommodation, you’re fucking exasperated.

Azriel can be very, very insufferable when he thinks himself into a foul mood.

You could go home, back to your father’s house — you certainly consider it as you follow Az into his cramped dwellings, but…you don’t know. You wouldn’t like to leave him like this. To walk away without seeing him crack a little smile. In nine years of friendship, you’ve never done so before. So you shut and lock the door behind you, and resign yourself to a very silent, very tense night.

You press your back against the door, watching as Azriel perches on the edge of the bed and removes his shoes. Through the walls, you hear the distinct sound of skin slapping against skin, and the building moans of a female close to climax. This miserable building is more often used as a place for a quick fuck than it is to actually sleep in.

But Az doesn’t seem to notice as he shrugs out of his clothing, quickly slipping on a pair of low-slung cotton sleeping trousers, and sprawls out across the mattress, wings fanning around him.

You’re not sure why you don’t move, at first. Or maybe you are.

Your gaze snags on the toned muscles of Azriel’s torso, and the smattering of dark hair that maps a line from beneath his bellybutton to what sits under his trousers. You’ve seen it countless times before, and yet you can’t stop staring.

Particularly when he stretches his arms above his head, and then drags a hand down his stomach. To him, it’s a subconscious act, but to you—

You can’t stop yourself zeroing in on his hand. The very hand that touched you and bathed you in a pleasure so stunning, so splintering, that you hadn’t dared to try and replicate it yourself since. Such inexperienced fingers had coaxed such expert sensations—

“Are you coming to bed?” Azriel’s voice drags you from your thoughts.

“…Right.” You clear your throat. “Yeah.”

“There’s a shirt for you in the armoire.”

You shuck off your clothes, digging out the tunic you often borrow from Az to sleep in. He barely spares you a glance, his eyes glued to the ceiling. You can’t help heaving a sigh as you pad over and slip beneath the blanket. The faelights wink out, and for a while, you both lie there in silence. It’s you who eventually breaks it.

“Are you going to tell me what that fight with Jonan was about?”

Az slings an arm above his head. “You were there. I’d hardly call it a fight.”

“No, I’d call it an overreaction.”

“Jonan’s an arrogant bastard and everyone knows it.”

He brooks no room for argument. And he’s not exactly wrong, either. You know Jonan gets himself into more brawls than the average person. But Az wasn’t exactly justified tonight.

But before you can think of a response, he says, quietly, “Sorry — if I ruined your night.”

You pause. And then roll onto your side, staring at his outline through the darkness. “You didn’t. I didn’t want to go to the party, anyway.”

There’s a tiny, soft snort. “Me neither.” He agrees. “But going along with Cassian’s ideas is the story of our lives.”

“That it is.”

Az says no more, does no more. And you…you hate it. Because it’s not simply that he’s sleepy and dozing off beside you. He’s just as awake as you are. And his mood is still heavy and tense.

You can’t stand it.

It’s perhaps against your better judgement that you inch closer to him, your mind already made up about how you might lift his spirits. It’s dangerous, because your arrangement has simply been about helping him, and he’s always been the instigator, knowing what he needs and when he needs it. Which he most certainly isn’t doing now.

But you would be helping him…in a way. And you can’t lie and say that it hasn’t bothered you, over the past two weeks, that you didn’t get to return the pleasure he gave you.

It would still be a learning experience. That’s what you tell yourself as you press against his side and drape your arm over his stomach.

Az pauses, but this isn’t unusual for the pair of you. You’ve cuddled like this plenty of times over the years — with your other friends, too. And so there’s no hesitation as he slides an arm beneath you and tugs you closer, his wing tucking you in.

You rest your head on his chest, and you murmur, “I don’t want you to go on the training exercise.”

You really, really don’t.

You always miss your friends when they’re sent away, but it seems…heavier, somehow, this time. Like there’s more between you to miss.

That…that is not a good thought to have.

You banish it from your mind rather than dwelling on it.

Az’s hand presses against your back. “I’ll be home in time for Solstice.”

You hear the unspoken promise in that statement; the one Azriel knows you need to hear. Because this isn’t just about simply missing his company.

Solstice is…hard for you, to say the least. Being holed up with your father, him drinking from the crack of dawn until he collapses in a chair by the fire. His unpredictable, volatile moods and tendency to pick at you over every tiny thing. It’s the time of year you rely on your friends the most, and you spend the entire day waiting for your father to pass out so you can sneak away and forget him for a while.

Azriel’s bare skin is so pleasantly warm, lulling you back to the present. You shelve your worries for the time being, press your cheek against his pectoral, and breathe in his frost-and-cedar scent. His wing drapes over you, cocooning the two of you in your own little world.

And there’s no better place than inside that world to ease some of Azriel’s tension. Bring the smile back to his lips.

“…Az?” You whisper, slowly gliding a hand over his stomach.

His body tenses beneath you. There’s a pause before he answers, “Yes?”

“What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing…” He clears his throat. “Nothing much. What are you thinking about?”

The question is an opening for you to stop this right here. You could return a similar, half-assed response, remove your hand from his stomach and go to sleep. Like any sensible, reasonable friend would do.

Or you could be honest.

You could tell Azriel that your close proximity has you thinking all about the magic of his fingers, the sensations he wrought from you. You could admit that it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve thought about it since it happened — not at all. You could tell him that you’re still a little stunned, because besides yourself, nobody has ever made you come that hard.

You could tell him how badly you want — need — to return the favour.

And never one to back down from a situation, however daunting, you do exactly that.

“I’m thinking…” you murmur, and your finger begins to just slightly trace lines over his stomach. Your touch is so light, and yet you feel his body react beneath you. “I’m thinking that there’s more I’d like to teach you about touching.”

A little breath escapes him. “Oh?”

“Mhm.” That finger of yours gets a little bolder, making bigger sweeps over his skin and dancing close to his waistband. “But this time, I want to touch you. You made me feel so good, Azriel. I want to make you feel good as well.”

“You…you don’t have to do that.”

Gods, you know you don’t. You know this situation has never been about him expecting anything from you. Just a friend helping a friend out. No big deal.

But who says you can’t both get something out of it?

“I know I don’t have to.” You answer him. Your hand stops its movements, and you stare up at him, your eyes accustomed enough to the dark to make out certain features. “And I won’t, if you don’t want me to. Do you want me to?”

A tiny, tiny little pause.

And then Azriel rasps, “Yes.”

It’s a guttural, gasping sound, and it’s so delicious that you want to swallow it.

You don’t hesitate in moving your hand up to his face. You angle it towards you. Slant your lips over his.

And you smile. There’s a mulled wine that Azriel far prefers drinking over the piss-poor ale that most males around here favour, and it’s not the first time you’ve tasted it on him. It’s pleasing to explore — the spices and berries and damp heat of his mouth a combination that coaxes you to slide your tongue between his lips.

Az seems pretty well comfortable with his kissing technique, now. He leans into it, not at all tentative, his tongue meeting the strokes of yours. And then he suddenly breaks away.

“I like—this.” He pants heavily, breath fanning your face. “I like doing this.”

The words make something glow inside you, because that is precisely what you want. This isn’t just about teaching him the technicalities of physical touch. It’s about liberating him from the barriers he’s built in his mind, and showing him how much he can enjoy it.

And your friend deserves that.

You plan to really show him.

You slide your hand over his hip and haul him closer, eliminating the tiny little gap that existed between your bodies. An act that makes him suck in a breath.

“If I do anything at all that you don’t like, you need to tell me, Az.” You stare at him. “Okay?”

He nods.

“I need your words. Swear it.”

“Gods, Y/N, I swear it.”

He kisses you this time.

He really does like doing that.

The kiss is hot and hungry, loitering on the precipice of being frenzied. Azriel’s hand slides to the back of your neck, his fingers kneading the skin there. A dim faelight blinks back to life, bathing the two of you in enough warm light to see each other. His tongue pushes past the seam of your lips.

But you don’t give him the chance to stroke at your mouth. There are a million other places you can think of kissing; a million other places you’re just as desperate to get your mouth on.

Your lips glide along Azriel’s jaw with the lightness of a breeze. He goes still, appearing to wait with bated breath to see what you’ll do next, and how it will feel. He’s never been kissed here before.

Nor at his neck. You kiss the skin gently, at first, and smile to yourself at the little breath that hitches in Az’s throat. Something told you he’d be amenable to neck kisses.

Indeed, he is, as you attach your lips to the column of his throat and suck.

It’s a soft ungh, this time, that escapes him. A noise of both surprise and delight. Perhaps he never before considered the sensitivity of the neck, how enjoyable it might be to be kissed there. It’s one of many things you want to be the one to teach him.

You suck and lave at the area until his stomach is caving beneath your hand, and then you’re moving on, dragging your mouth over his collarbone. Down to his pectoral.

His skin is hot but its taste is cold — cold, like his scent. Frost and snow, icy starlight, the whipping winds and thrill of flying. Gods, it’s all delicious, and you close your mouth over his nipple, desperate to taste more.

Azriel starts, his back arching just a little. Your eyes flit up to his as your tongue teases the peaked flesh.

“This okay?” You check, allowing your teeth to graze just a little.

“Yes.” Az breathes. “I never considered that that might feel good for—for a male, too.”

You smile, repeating the action, fastening your lips totally around the nipple and giving a gentle suck. It earns you another quiet sound in response.

But you don’t want quiet. You want to make your friend feel so good that he can’t keep a lid on those sounds. The muscles of his stomach are quivering under your palm, and you decide it’s unfair to make him wait any longer.

So as your tongue circles his nipple, you slip your fingers beneath the waistband of his trousers.

You’re careful, even though you know the sharp intake of breath is a positive one. Nobody’s hands but his own have ever ventured here. You want him to be aware of every touch, every feeling.

Your fingers skate over the dusting of fine, coarse hair. And lower. And then your hand is on his cock.

The mere weight of your touch drags a breathless little noise from Azriel’s throat. And you pause.

Azriel is big, even by Illyrian standards.

From touch alone, you can feel its length, its thickness. You’re not entirely sure you can fit him in your hand, let alone anywhere else.

But gods are you willing to try.

You take your time exploring every detail, starting at the smooth, swollen head — already leaking a droplet of moisture —and circling its rim with your finger. Azriel’s hips jerk, and you smile, removing your mouth from his nipple to kiss further down,

“Still doing okay?” You ask, coasting your lips over his ribs. The pads of your fingers stroke over the head of his cock slowly, casually.

But there is absolutely nothing casual about Az’s voice as he grounds out, “I’m doing great.”

“Want me to keep going—”

“Please.” The word escapes his mouth before you can even finish the sentence. “Please.”

You smile, and you scoot lower down his body, giving yourself the perfect angle to explore the muscles of his abdomen with your mouth, your tongue.

It allows you to feel the exact moment you glide your palm down the length of Azriel’s cock, following the long, jagged vein.

Gods, it feels like it goes on forever.

The skin is velvety, smoothing over every vein, every bump and ridge. You explore it all, as much for your enjoyment as for his. You can’t imagine what it must be like to feel it sliding in and out of you, hitting a spot so deep inside you that you’d have to bite the mattress—

A thought you should not be having. It isn’t going that far.

And there’s a twinge of disappointment at that fact. But now isn’t the time for disappointment.

You trace the length of Azriel’s cock all the way down to his balls, and he’s trembling beneath you. You tug at his trousers, whisper, “Can I pull these down?”

It might be silly to ask, given that your hand is already well beneath the fabric. But you want him to have a choice in everything.

So when he gives a firm nod and lifts his hips for you, you tug the cotton trousers down, peeling them easily from his hips.

Azriel’s cock springs up. And it…it might just be the most perfect cock you’ve ever seen.

You damn near moan at the sight of it.

But before the sound can escape you, you smother it by pressing your lips to Azriel’s stomach. You kiss the skin, lap at it, graze your teeth over it. And your hand returns to his hardened length.

Finally — fucking finally — you wrap your hand around him.

Azriel makes a gasping sound at your touch, his hips canting up into your hand. He’s so responsive to your touch that you have to clench your thighs together to ignore your own arousal. This is about him. Entirely about him.

It’s about him as you slowly begin to pump his shaft, peppering kisses down and down until you’re at his hip. It’s about him as you squeeze gently and hear the hitching of his breath.

“So responsive,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his hip.

“Is that—gods—” He hisses between his teeth as you pump a little faster, “—is that a good thing?”

“Very good, Az. I want to know that you’re enjoying it.”

“I am. Fuck, Y/N, I am.”

“Good.” Another kiss lands on his skin. “You’re doing so good for me.”

The praise drags another noise from the depths of his throat — the loudest he’s made so far. You don’t know whether he’s simply gaining in confidence, or whether he’s losing control. Maybe both. Hopefully both.

And you think you might lose control, too. Watch with rapt fascination as the head of his cock leaks, and it’s swelling, thickening in your hand, and you know he’s not going to last much longer.

You really want to taste him before he falls off the edge.

“Holy gods,” Azriel pants, his teeth biting into his lower lip. “Y/N, I don’t think I’m gonna last.”

“Don’t fight it.” You lick your lips. “Can I put my mouth on you?”

The question makes him fucking groan, and he chokes out an affirmative response, his cock rutting into your hand. You know he’s close, and you want him to finish. Preferably on your tongue.

And when you slide your mouth onto his cock, you know that’s going to happen.

You hollow your cheeks, sucking him into your mouth as much as you can.

Azriel shouts, his head falling back, eyes screwed shut. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

You suck on him, tongue tracing the length of the vein that’s beginning to throb. He doesn’t seem to be aware of the way he slides his hands into your hair, his hips rolling.

“Y/N,” he pants, your name languid and slurred on his tongue, “m’sofuckingclose.”

You pull your mouth off of him long enough to say, “Look at me. Watch me while you come.”

And then you’re sucking him again, your hand wrapped around the base of his length. You pump and lick him and bob your head in time to Az’s hips canting against you, and you think the sounds he’s making may just be the most beautiful ones you’ve ever heard.

And he watches you so closely, his brow furrowed, his lips parted, his chest heaving. Your gaze collides with his, and you’re hollowing your cheeks and giving a particularly harsh suck.

“Oh, gods, Y/N, fuck!”

Azriel spills into your mouth, shot after shot coating your tongue. You take it all, swallowing greedily, savouring the saltiness and the hint of something else that is just Azriel. It seems endless, and so do his groans, his constant string of curses, the jerking of his hips and the trembles wracking through his entire body.

You damn well suck him dry. Not a drop is spared.

As you finally pull him out of your mouth, wipe your lips with the back of your hand and glimpse his shaking, sated form, you know you’re committing the sight to memory. For when this is all over.

He’s…he’s a vision. Head still tipped back. Stomach and chest still heavily rising and falling. Pleasure still pinching his face. His hands are fisted tightly in the bedsheets.

You leave him to come down from his high. He’s still panting a little when his head lolls forward, and his eyes meet yours.

“That was—” His voice cracks a little. “God’s, Y/N, I don’t have words.”

“It’s okay.” You press a gentle kiss to his stomach, tucking his sensitive length back into his trousers. “Words aren’t necessary. You did so well.”

His arms are suddenly around you, tugging you up and against him, your body slanted slightly over his. All the earlier tension from the night is gone, and it’s just you and him, your love and friendship, your unbreakable bond.

Az holds you tightly, burying into your hair. And you think that this was maybe more than just…you returning a favour. You think this might have been a soul-shifting moment for him. Something that released him from the invisible bindings that have held him back for so long.

And it saddens you a little to think that that might be the end of it. That you’ve done all you can do.

But still, you’re honoured to have helped him this far. To have guided him through it.

“Thank you.” He whispers, dropping a kiss onto the top of your head. He’s still trembling, and he tucks himself in tight as if he’s worried he might break. “Just…thank you.”

You don’t quite know what to say. It feels a little…final, and you don’t like that.

So you simply nestle into his side, and you repeat your earlier truth, your voice a whisper. “I don’t want you to go on the training exercise.”

Because you know you’ll miss him more than you ever have before. It’s going to be far harder this time.

What, exactly, that means…you can’t bear to think of it right now.

And there’s no need to as Az holds you tightly, kisses your head again.

“I’ll be there with you on Solstice.” He says. “I promise.”

azriel tags: @hanasakr @positivewitch @ruler-of-hades @brekkershadowsinger @nightscourtt @imperfect0angel @luna-1-3-5 @hyacinthoideshispanica @lucyysthings @lahoete @littlemoonash @blacksstarrynight @azriels-mate123 @ghostly-poetic @frieddesigninspiringquotesslime @a-frog-with-a-laptop @illyriansimp @morrie-rose @passingthroughfireandshadow @illyrian-dreamer @azrielsbabyg @96jnie @mich0731 @mulansaucey @truthtellerfanclub @acourtofbooksandmagic @insightsonmylife @basicbittywitty @curbside-cyanide @acourtofchaosandmess @123345566 @starrynights-frostbites @eos-princess @thesillyyogourt @ona-raising-07-l @acediahamartia @dontfollowmepleaseitsannoying @polli05927 @asdfjklbooks @azriel-luvr @amysangel @humanpersonlasttimeichecked @wildflowernightmere @audie-writes @aaronwarnerswifereal @starxqt @lulufairbank @laurzwrites @livelaughlovenestaarcheron @girlwith-thecinder-blockgarden

1K notes · View notes

43qh · 21 days

Text

talk for a minute? (m)

quinn hughes x fem!reader

genre: angst, smut, fluff

warnings: unprotected sex, creampie, yearning, self-doubt, rejection

word count: 4.6k

summary: your own vows to not associate with anyone your last year in college all comes crashing down the second quinn hughes enters your life.

you made vows.

vows to yourself, at least. you’ll focus on studies, graduate with honors this coming year, no distractions. you made fucking vows. so when a man named quinn hughes has sudden interest in your loneliness, you scowl. your snarls and distaste in his presence hasn’t made him go away. not yet, at least.

quinn randomly popped into your life when he sat across you in your campus library. his eyes gleamed a pretty color you didn’t want to discover too deeply. you raised an eyebrow at the time, not sure why a man was sitting across from you, no books in hand. you didn’t know quinn back then. quite frankly, you didn’t know many people. you were a loner, if you will. you hated the term, though. you just chose your studies over friendships.

people could call you a prune all they want, it never deterred you. at least you’d graduate with your head held high.

so, when quinn approached you that day with a glimmering “hi”, you scowled. and he would try every day for the past three weeks trying to get something different, but it never worked. but he never stopped approaching you. never stopped pursuing you.

when quinn doesn’t show up at his usual time, you’re a little muddled in your seat. quinn made it a point to be punctual in your ‘meet ups’. so, when he comes an hour late, you scrunch your eyebrows at him.

he clears his throat a bit, trying to remain quiet in the library, “hi.”

you almost scowl in his face, but your demeanor was falling apart in front of his eyes. you sit still, “you’re late.”

quinn’s eyebrows raise, but he can’t stop the smile errupting on his face, “you noticed?”

you scoff, looking back at your books. he wanted you to notice. he wanted you to react. he craved it.

quinn rests his chin on his hand, elbow on the table, “if you’re wondering where i was-”

“i wasn’t.” you snark.

“-i had to call my mother. we do this monthly thing where she checks in on me.”

quinn being a mommy’s boy made you want to smile. you didn’t know much about quinn. you knew he played hockey, had two brothers, had lots of friends, and you knew girls flocked at him. quinn wasn’t bad looking. maybe he knew he was a looker, who knows. but knowing he was also a mama’s boy, added to your short list of what you knew about quinn. it was almost charming.

if only you didn’t have a reputation to uphold.

you don’t even nod in acknowledgment to his words about the call with his mother. you don’t look up, you don’t stop typing on your laptop. and quinn just sits like usual, in silence. you’re not sure what game he’s playing at, but you’re not sure you’re going to like it, whatever it is.

you didn’t even know the man’s name before he approached you, and now you know more than you’d like to. it made you scoff in your head.

only in his wet dreams will he get a chance to talk to you.

you hate this.

you hate that quinn’s silence was starting to become a comfortable daily routine. you hated that you were starting to anticipate his entrance. you hated the coil in your stomach when he approached you after giving a familiar handshake to one of his friends.

you hate him.

he’s a nuisance. always in the way when you’re trying to concentrate. in all reality, you could probably find another place and spot to study. but you knowingly chose not to. and that’s really what kills you. you were tormenting yourself on purpose.

you were hating him on purpose.

“hi,” his familiar voice rings in your ears as you take notes.

you want to say ‘hi’ back. you want to greet him properly, let him into your world. you want to become apart of his world, maybe. your mind wins over your heart, though.

you stay silent, not daring to look up in fear that you’ll crack. quinn never pushes you for conversation. he simply sits quietly until you’re done with your studies for the evening. maybe that’s what drew you towards him. he was patient, never really, truly invading your space. quinn just sat in your bubble, silently scrolling through his phone. he doesn’t even strike up conversations, he just sits there.

is this infatuation?

were you really wanting to break vows for a man you barely knew?

you lick your lips, eyes flickering towards him for only a second, maybe even less than that. he was handsome, from what you gathered. he dressed nicely, his clothes neat and not a wrinkle in place. your nostrils flare as you get a small whiff of his cologne from where he sat. earthy and light.

he looked a bit too good to be true.

you sigh softly, eyes focused on your paper in front of you. your exams are close, and you can feel the anxiety start to creep up.

you were so consumed by quinn for the past few minutes that you were slightly behind on your preferred schedule. you frown, making sure to bury your nose deep into your notes.

you weren’t sure, but you swore you could see a soft smirk on quinn’s lips out of the corner of your eye.

your resolve was disappearing.

quinn’s hair was wet, dressed in a loose sweater and sweatpants. his hands grip his phone a bit too tight. he greets you with a grunt, unusual to his chipper tone. it sent a shock down your spine. were you supposed to react that way to a frustrated man?

you sigh, trying your best to concentrate, but something was clearly bothering quinn as his brows furrowed in anger. your heart was aching for him.

god, you were aching for him.

as the weeks pass, doubt clouds your mind. what if this was a game to get you to talk? what if he just wanted what every other man wanted? what if he was playing with you?

all doubt leaves your mind for the moment when you notice the slouch in his posture.

“you okay?” you ask with a meek voice. it wasn’t like you to appear shy, someone with less resolve than what they’re credited for. but quinn breaks all your rules.

quinn looks up at you with a raised brow, “you’re asking?” his tone was playful.

you wanted to scoff and turn back to your books, but your body reacts quicker than your mind. “yeah.” you breathe. you sound out of breath, looking at him with a shy glint that almost drives him a bit crazy.

you were just so precious to him.

quinn didn’t see you as shy, quite the opposite actually. but seeing you fall apart just talking to him? he couldn’t help the fact that it boosted his ego. you were kind of known for blowing people off. so, when you asked about his well-being, he felt like he had to get on his knees for you.

not that he’d admit it.

“lost a game,” quinn tilts his head at you. watching your every move like you were bound to cower away any minute.

you nod, adverting eyes just for a split second before you’re greeted with a smirk on his lips. you twist in your seat a bit, “you’re smirking.”

“how am i supposed to stay composed?” he questions, leaning closer so his chest presses against the desk separating the two of you, elbows on the table, fingers interlocked after putting his phone down, “you’re just so cute when concerned.”

you puff your cheeks out, looking away from him completely. you wanted to brush off his compliment like you do with everyone else. you wanted to dig your nose in your books. you wanted to even possibly disappear.

at some point, you lose track of time. you’re not sure how long the two of you have been sitting in that awkward silence while you collect yourself. you’re not sure how long quinn has been looking at you.

you just know it’s longer than you would have liked.

“you’re conceited to think i was concerned,” you look at your laptop, not really bothering with your notes anymore, just simply looking away from quinn.

“so, you’re not?” he asks, leaning his head on his hand now.

you scoff, “you wish i was.”

“so what if i do?” he raises an eyebrow, “you barely know how to even look at me. i think it’d be a privilege to be cared by you.”

you squirm a bit in your seat, “what gives you that privilege then?”

quinn shrugs his shoulders, “only you know that.” he pauses, leaning back in his seat as he continues observing you, “but i’d be more than willing to get it, work hard for it. i know you’re a hard worker, how about letting me take over the hard work?”

you lick your lips, his words sounding more suggestive than you’d like them to. it sounds appealing to you. “work for it, then, i guess.”

quinn’s mouth sparkles in an infamous smile that makes your stomach flip, “giving me permission?”

you look at him finally, studying the way he looks at you. like you’re a challenge he’s not willing to give up on so easily.

“only for you.”

quinn doesn’t want to seem to ecstatic at your words, but he also hates the idea of you thinking he’s ungrateful. truth is, he’s more than ecstatic. he’s fucking off the wall happy. when those words slipped past your beautiful lips, he could hear birds start singing, he swears.

as the days pass, he slowly learns a little more about you. he can see how frightened you are. he can sense that a part of you hates this. hates the idea of him knowing you more than anyone else but yourself. he knows you’re guarded.

quinn doesn’t let it distract or deter him, though. he just patiently and slowly gets to know you more and more. he finally knows your favorite color, your favorite fruit, your favorite sweet. basic stuff that would normally bore someone, but in quinn’s reality, anything you give him is like gold. he even starts wearing your favorite color more often.

you notice the effort, and you can’t say you’re not affected by it. the closer you get to quinn, the more scared you get. but, also, the more curious you get. you would be lying if you said you weren’t interested in quinn, as well.

for all you knew, you could be signing up for your own downfall. but so could he.

maybe quinn wasn’t out to get you.

you sighed, sitting on your dorm bed. your roommate had gone out like she usually does, leaving you alone in the room. your thoughts start to bounce a bit, drifting towards quinn, against your better judgement.

as you’re about to lay down after showering and changing into something comfortable, you hear a knock. you scrunch your eyebrows, wondering if your roommate forgot her key. when you open the door and are instantly greeted with a big smile from such a gruff man, you feel shock down to your feet.

“how are you here?” your voice was incredulous, looking at quinn with big eyes.

“walked,” he shrugged, licking his lips with a smirk on his face.

“no, i mean,” you roll your eyes, “how do you know my dorm?”

“your roommate told me.” he looks at you, “saw her walking down the hallway, and she said that if i was looking for you, you were here.”

of course she did. your roommate didn’t exactly disrespect your boundaries, but she definitely did want you to get out there more. she was kind and more extroverted than you’d ever be. you figured at some point she would catch on to the fact that quinn was around you. it’s not like she never caught the two of you at the library talking.

you huff, “so you thought it was okay to come here?”

quinn shrugs, “thought maybe we were getting closer.”

you bite your lip, and quinn’s eyes travel downwards on instinct. oh how he wished he could just kiss you. he had been thinking about it for awhile. a lot longer than he’d like to admit.

“i guess,” you finally answer, looking into his eyes with vulnerability and uncertainty. he so desperately wanted to wash away all your doubts. especially the one’s about yourself.

“gonna let me in?” he quirks an eyebrow, expecting you to scoff in his face and shut the door on him. but you do the opposite, stepping aside and nodding your head.

“my roommate will be gone for awhile.” you state as he steps inside with cautious steps. you could feel the tension increase the second the door closes.

quinn’s eyes looked concerned, “are you sure this is okay with you? i mean i-”

you nod, stepping closer to him, “yeah, i don’t mind.”

you wanted to say how much you hated the way you could smell his specific cologne and soap. you wanted to say how much you hated how close the two of you were. you wanted to say how much you hated how badly you wanted to kiss him.

but all the hate burns into something different. a beautiful pit in your stomach that makes you step even closer to him.

quinn tenses up at your advances, looking at the way your night shorts rose higher along your thighs. seeing the way your shirt dipped. it made him visibly gulp. you were a sight for sore eyes, and he was afraid he would lose control if you continued your advances.

you could feel his breath fan your face in anxious waves, making you smile to yourself at just how nervous he actually gets around you. he had a strong, flirtatious resolve. just like you had a strong, reserved resolve. maybe the two of you weren’t too different, afterall.

you stand still, and the room goes quiet. you don’t move any further, waiting and anticipating quinn’s next move in action. it all felt slow-motion. something out of a movie, maybe.

quinn slowly raises a hand to your cheek, and you lean into his touch. he let’s out a breath of relief, your eyes connecting. it felt like the world stopped spinning for him. like he was looking straight into the eyes of an angel.

he could feel your skin start to burn at his touch, and he wanted to touch you everywhere after that. he wanted to break, fall apart into your arms and take what you give to him. take what you allow.

god, maybe he was falling in love.

“lost for words, hughes?” your face was still cradled into his hand, and he swallows.

he’s breathless, “i think so.”

your smile ignites something within him.

you were burning a fire within him that he couldn’t contain.

“don’t speak, then.” you say, eyes glimmering in the soft shade of your lamp in your dorm.

he can’t stop himself from leaning to close the gap between the two of you. he stops just before your lips touch, looking for approval. he sees the way your eyes flutter close, and he takes it as a sign to softly press his lips to yours.

quinn fears for his life the second your lips touch. he fears he will never get enough of this. little does he know that when you reach up to place your hand in his hair, you’re thinking the same thing.

your lips move slowly, languidly. it’s like the two of you want to embrace the moment as it is. something just as simple as a kiss, but just as complex as a blossoming relationship.

quinn has careful hand placements, staying on your face while the other is lightly tugging you closer by your back. you have a hand in his hair still, your other placed respectfully on his chest.

it’s a kiss you never imagined having. a kiss you never thought you wanted until this very moment. your whole world shifts on its axel and you become consumed by the way his beard brushes against you, the way his lips capture yours in a sweetness like honey.

you were trapped in quinn’s hold.

quinn was trapped in yours.

“how can you just say no?” quinn’s eyebrows furrow in frustration. he feels a slight sense of danger in the pit of his stomach when you turn to look at him.

“i don’t date, i don’t do dates. i can’t date.” you shook your head, scowling as you continue your walk towards your dorm. you felt like you were in some kind of romance show, and you hated it.

“says who?” quinn asks, following your trail like a puppy. he isn’t very subtle about how eager he has been to get to know you more as the days passed since you kissed. quinn became slowly more and more affectionate, throwing you off and messing with your head.

you purse your lips before responding, “says me.”

“so, you’re just going to reject me? for what reason?” quinn couldn’t understand you. he thought the two of you were genuinely getting closer. that he finally had a shot with you, especially after such a kiss that still sends tingles down his spine.

you’re almost at your door before quinn gently grabs your hand, making you stop in your tracks at the touch. he wasn’t pulling you towards him, no force involved in the act. it was all just pure instinct on your behalf on why you stopped.

you close your eyes and sigh before turning to look at him, “i need to make sure i graduate with honors, quinn. i made vows that i wouldn’t get involved with anyone, not even friends.”

“why? what good does that do?” quinn’s hand is cold against your own, “you’re doing so well. i’ve seen how hard you work, nobody can take that away from you. especially not me, i don’t even want to. i just want to..” he pauses, looking around as his cheeks turn a pretty pink, “i just want to be with… you.”

you want that too.

and your eyes soften at all the effort he has put in to getting to know you. to getting past all the doubts and walls you built up. no one has ever made the effort to know you as well as he does, and you’re not sure you’ll ever find that again if you let him walk away.

the idea of him no longer pursuing you and wanting you makes your heart ache. you wished you could hate it, but in all reality, you knew you wanted to keep pursuing and wanting him, too.

you were so used to being left alone before quinn arrived.

now you couldn’t imagine a day where quinn wasn’t there.

so, with strength, you grip his hand back. your warm hand surprises him when he feels your reassuring squeeze. he swears he could fall to his knees, kiss the ground you walk on. instead, he opts for kissing you.

it’s so rushed, emotions taking over as he grips your waist as if you’ll disappear. guilt washes over you when you realize that he does fear you’ll disappear. that you’ll walk away the second he stops kissing you.

you inhibitions are thrown out the window when quinn grabs your hand again, guiding you towards your dorm. you let out a soft laugh at his eagerness when he pulls the keys out of your jeans pocket to open the door. he sighs the second he realizes your roommate isn’t there, so fucking relieved.

he turns to kiss you again when he hears you shut your door, going back to how it had been just a few second ago. he was eager, so eager. he couldn’t help the way his hands trailed beneath your shirt and beneath your bra to cup your breast. he feels the gasp you let out between kisses, making him groan as he pinches your nipple just a couple times before pulling back.

you look disheveled, and he was so honored to be the reason why. when you approach him, he steps back. you frown, looking at him with concerned eyes.

“strip.” his words are demanding as he sits at the foot of your bed. he leans back, hands resting on your mattress. you swallow down your pride, quickly making rid of your shirt and bra. “all of it.”

his tone was husky, making you clench your legs together before following even more of his demands. it was like he had hold on you. he watched with hungry eyes, trailing all across your body as your lacy panties fall down with your jeans, leaving you vulnerable and left in nothing but socks.

he hums in appreciation before beckoning you towards him, and you don’t dare refuse. “i’m a bit underdressed here.” you whisper, and quinn chuckles a bit. he tugs at the seam of his shirt, pulling it over his head. he makes quick work of the buttons on his jeans and his boxers follow suit. you gasp a bit at the sudden action, adverting your eyes from his cock as it sprung up against his stomach.

quinn smirks to himself when he notices how shy you really, truly are. he grabs at your hand to bring you back to reality, your eyes meet, and it takes everything in him not to devour you completely. how could someone with such a strong head, have such a beautiful doe eyed expression when vulnerable?

“there you go, baby.” the nickname consumes you, swallowing you whole. your ears are ringing as you walk closer to him, feeling the soft pull of his hand to tug you towards him. “you’re gorgeous.”

he sounds breathless, like he’s seen nothing like it before. like it’s his first time seeing someone naked. it’s not, but you’re definitely the most beautiful thing he has ever seen in that very moment.

you make way to straddle him, and he hums in happiness, a smile spreading across his features. “want this cock, sweetheart?” he tilts to look at you, holding your face in one of his hands so you don’t look away.

you lick your lips, eyes glossy as they stay connected with his, “yes.”

quinn smiles, placing a soft kiss to your lips before flipping the two of you over. you let out a soft sound at the sudden change of scenery, him hovering over you with a determined look in his eye.

quinn reaches down, feeling just how soaked you are. “oh?” he perches an eyebrow up, slipping his fingers through your folds, “so wet already, could slide right in.”

“please,” your voice is meek, small but still breaking through the tension just enough to gather quinn’s attention. it honestly drives him crazy.

quinn groans, “wanted to tease you a bit more,” he says in defeat as he begins to line his cock up with your tight entrance, “but it’ll have to wait another time. really need to fuck you. been needing it for weeks.”

his confession makes the stretch he causes all the more pleasurable when he finally pushes in. you were so tight, making him stop the second he bottoms out. he really couldn’t handle cumming too fast right now.

your sounds are symphonies. he listens to every single one, making sure to pack them away for days he needed release and thought of you. he can feel the way you’re gripping so tightly onto his shoulders, almost like you’re trying to ground yourself.

everything about this moment was electrifying.

quinn kisses your temple, “gonna move, okay?” he waits for your eager little nod before he continues. he’s slow at first, groaning at the tight pull your pussy gives him. “you feel like a fucking dream.” his voice is coarse, struggling to keep composure.

you buck your hips up, “more. need more.”

he can’t stop himself now. not when your voice comes out in whiny little gasps. not when you’re rolling your hips up to feel even more of him. no, not when you’re allowing him to have you.

you gasp when he picks up speed, eyes rolling back as he hits a spot inside you that has you wrapping your legs around his torso. quinn observes all of your reactions, making note of where to thrust, how hard, how fast. and it all feels too good.

he can feel your fingers digging into his shoulders, your moans becoming increasingly louder with each thrust of his hips. it was all so magnetic, so natural between the two of you. nothing felt awkward as he fucked you.

when you start to feel a tug in your lower belly, you tug on his hair, “quinn..” you gasp, opening your eyes and seeing the sweat starting to form on his forehead. “fuck, i’m-”

“i know, can feel you clenching, baby.” quinn picks up his pace, more eager than before to see you cum for him. “cum on my cock, know you want to. need to see you, need to feel you.”

you squeeze your eyes shut as you feel the flutter of your cunt around his dick. you cum with a small squeak, moans falling out of your mouth relentlessly. it wasn’t like anything you’ve felt before. your own release triggers quinn’s, he really couldn’t help it with how tight your pussy clung to him and how beautiful you looked cumming for him.

he swears this was his heaven.

he needed you forever.

your labored breathing brought him back to reality as you slowly released your hold on him. he’s quick to grab tissues from your bedside and clean you up.

“uh,” quinn says awkwardly, staring at you after throwing away the tissues, “do you have a shower?” you smile to yourself before nodding, admiring the way he now looks less territorial, and more soft. he nods back before helping you up. “let’s shower, then.”

you don’t argue.

this seemed to be the end of fighting your feelings for quinn hughes.

“i passed!” you exclaim, rushing towards your boyfriend as he makes quick work to catch you in a tight hug. “i did it, quinn!” your smile was so radiant, something he could never stop admiring.

quinn kisses your cheek, “of course you did, baby. i always knew you could.”

you look at him with excited eyes, “they’re all almost perfect scores, quinn.”

quinn nods, a smile adorning his beautiful features, “you’ve always had it in you.” he pauses before smirking, “see? i didn’t distract you too much.”

you scoff, wrapping your arms up around his neck, “you would’ve if i let you.”

quinn shrugs, knowing you were right.

when quinn approached you, you had to battle all your internal battles with yourself. you had to put down your vows for him, and still hold true to your word about graduating with honors. quinn frightened you, but it was in the best way possible.

quinn fought for you when you didn’t want to be fought for. at least, that’s what you thought. you didn’t know you needed someone like quinn hughes in your life before he showed up and turned your world upside down.

it’s such a cliché, it almost makes you sick.

but, for now, you’ll ignore it.

you lean up to kiss your now boyfriend, quinn hughes.

if you had never decided to talk that day in the library, you were sure you wouldn’t be so elated right now.

all it took, was to just talk.

talk just for a minute.

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes smut #quinn hughes angst #quinn hughes fluff #quinn hughes scenario #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes fic #nhl #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl hockey #nhl smut #nhl fluff #nhl angst

544 notes · View notes

mxrecg · 9 months

Text

True Love vs Infatuation | Gojo x Reader

Summary: Gojo loves nothing more than spending time with you, even if it only consists of doing the most mundane of things. It wasn't until today, you realized just how much Gojo Satoru loves you.

Pairing: High School Gojo x YN

Genre: fluff, established relationship

Word Count: 2.4k

A/n: Imma be so honest idk wtf this is but I wrote it a hellaaa long time ago. So bc JJK s2 is out I thought why not post this drabble I wrote a long ass time ago. I also genuinely think this prolly isn't how canon Gojo would act but bruh I tried!! Anyways enjoy

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

Incandescent fireflies painted the dark sky with small flakes of light, creating an enriched serene atmosphere for reading.

So there you sat cross-legged, outside your balcony, fully engrossed by the book you were reading.

You slowly became hypnotised by the words allocated within the pages of the novel you were reading.

As your eyes further loomed through the pages and comprehended the context, your eyebrows furrowed in irritation and cuss words occasionally left your lips.

Lost and captivated by the words decorating the interior pages of the book, you paid no mind to the snoring boy who laid down on your lap.

You continued reading the story. Book in your dominant hand; whereas, the other one gently massaged the scalp of the teenage boy on your lap.

Page after page began to turn, and soon enough you’ve reached the final page… to say you were disappointed was an understatement.

Angered at the ending, you immediately slammed the book down on a coffee table and debated on whether or not you should ignite it on fire for illustrating such a realistic yet heartbreaking ending.

Your sudden outburst lured the teenage boy out of his sleep, and he groaned, carelessly rubbing his eyes during his tired state.

“Did one of your favourite manga boys die again?” he asked, now fully sitting up and stretching his arms.

“You’re not entirely wrong,” you aggravatedly muttered.

“Then tell me what’s aggravating your pretty self and giving you wrinkles,” he stated and you didn’t even bother showing your irritation to the latter comment.

You took a deep breath, turned your head and he watched as your eyes became livid as you recited the vast difference of each character’s milieu and how their fate perfectly intertwined with one another.

Your hands doing all sorts of motions, in an attempt to exemplify your extreme dislike and sadness of the poetic story you read.

A story involving two individuals who unconsciously were ameliorating each other’s lives.

“It’s infuriating Satoru!! Did these two airheads even love each other?? It hasn’t even been like 24 hours and the girl is already marrying the man who was bawling his eyes over another girl- love of my life my ass,”

Satoru listened to your outburst intently, smiling at the sounds of your melodic voice.

You let out a small huff of frustration, before finally ending your rant and the tears suddenly cascaded down your pale skin, “That being said, the author is able to write damn well.”

Satoru only laughed quietly, wiping away your stray tears with his right hand, “I thought you hated sad romantic books? Why would you willingly choose to read Shakespere? At least watch the movie instead,” he replied and began playing with your hair.

His reply caught you off guard and you tilted your head in confusion, staring at him with wide eyes.

“You know what book I’m talking about?” you asked incredulously.

“Yes… why do you look so shocked?” he asked, continuing to brush the threads of your h/l h/c hair, “It’s Romeo and Juliet, how could I not know? I swear Shoto was straight up fangirling about the movie actor-Da Vinci!!”

“Da Vinci?” you replied, flicking his forehead and trying to hide your growing amusement, causing the man to pout his lips, “How the hell would a painter act? A dead painter at that.”

“No- no Leonardo Da Vinci the actor-”

It took every fibre in you to not burst out laughing at the moron in front of you, “My love, listen to me carefully- it's Di Caprio. Da Vinci painted the Mona Lisa.”

The man in front of you scoffed at your reply.

“Da Vinci. Di Caprio, who cares. They’re both Leo’s involved in the art industry of the world. You must admit though, neither of them compare to me!” he said proudly.

“I don’t know…. Leonardo Di Caprio does seem to have a lot of fangirls right now…. I mean have you seen him in Romeo and Juliet? Or better yet, Titanic?”

The man only poked the interior of his cheek with his tongue, scowling at you as you laughed.

“The real question is though- did you read the book?”

“Yes,” he let out, not missing a beat.

“The Satoru Gojo reads? The world must be ending,” you teased, clasping one of his hands and using your other hand to caress his cheek.

Satoru didn’t say anything. Instead, he leaned into your hand and softly smiled.

His eyes soon twinkled into amusement, as an idea struck him.

Noticing the change of his behaviour, you lifted an eyebrow to display your confusion. Satoru remained silent and instead flipped you over, so that your back was pressed against the couch.

He smirked, straddling your hips and began tickling your sides.

Squirming under his touch, you burst into fits of laughter, “T-toru…. S-stop….” you tried to breathe out, “Gojo- p-please hahahaha.”

Your pleas only encouraged him to tickle you faster, and you soon began to kick your feet, thrashing beneath the man as if your strength could overpower his.

“Say Gojo Satoru is the strongest person in the world,” he smiled, continuing his attack.

“I’d rather die,” you said in between heaps of laughter.

The man poked the interior of his cheek before smirking at you, a playful smile adorning his face as he continued with his attack.

“Being tickled to death. Hm that seems new, I’ll discard your body so don’t worry, suit yourself,” he replied and grazed his fingers at your newly exposed skin, since your shirt slowly began to ride up above your navel.

“Ok ok… Gojo… is the… strongest person….”

“Go on, continue,” he encouraged.

Despite the laughter escaping your lips, forcing your eyes shut, you already sensed the cockiness behind his words and you immediately laughed harder when you thought of something that would catch him off guard.

“Gojo- i-is… the… strongest….” you stuttered out.

“Altogether, now, state the full name,” he stated. Although, it seemed more like a command than a request.

“OK!! Gojo Y/n is the strongest person in the world,” you spurred out in one quick breath.

Impressed with the turn of events and his lack of words, you could not help but smirk- considering you made this cocky guy lose his demeanour.

His tickling immediately ceased, his irises resembling a deer caught in the headlights, and his mouth slowly falling open.

Gojo was in disbelief, as he tried to ensure his hearing wasn’t deteriorating and the words that escaped your mouth not too long ago were not a part of his mere illusive imagination.

Before he could recover and say some snide snarky remark, you grabbed Satoru’s shirt, pulling him down with you against the cushions of the couch you resided on.

The action took him by surprise, but he didn't refuse and instead grabbed your waist, pulling you closer to him, with his arms eventually caging you beneath him.

He licked your bottom lip, and you found yourself parting your mouth slightly, both your tongues intertwining with one another.

Caressing your cheek, he then began to angle your head more towards the left, and did not hesitate to bite your bottom lip shortly after.

You hissed at the new sensation, and Gojo immediately attempted to alleviate the now burning sensation on your lips by running his lips over the new forming bruise.

You were the first to pull back to breathe. As the both of you attempted to even out your breathing, one of your hands caressed his dusted pink cheeks, while the other one removed his sunglasses, revealing those piercing icy blue eyes you fell in love with.

He looked at you with such love and adoration that you could not help but feel butterflies swarming around your stomach.

Your e/c eyes looked up at his illuminating bright blue ones and you smiled, “I’m the strongest person in the world, Toru.”

“That you are,” he replied, kissing your nose.

“You’re not even going to rebuttal and be the cocky bastard you usually are?” You questioned him, raising an eyebrow.

“You’re the strongest… The strongest doesn’t necessarily mean having the most power. It’s your character. Plus you got me… not just anyone could make me fall in love with them. You have my tall ass whipped around your finger.”

You stared at your boyfriend, in awe and bursted out laughing. “We’re both strong. How about that?”

“Mhm. We’re the top two strongest special grade sorcerers to exist, and for the next century to come” he muttered and buried himself into your neck, as he was now fully lying down on you.

You laughed at his reply, “Your best friend might not like that statement so much,”

“... I mean you’re also my best friend and technically you’re stronger than him, not by a longshot but still stronger nonetheless… and I couldn’t be more proud of you,” he mumbled and kissed your neck.

You quietly hummed in reply, and began to softly hymn the songs of a soft lullaby.

Satoru was still lying on top of you, and as the melody escaped your lips, your fingers threaded his soft white hair.

Gojo Satoru was at peace. This cocky bastard was like putty in your hands, and you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

To others his exterior forecasted a childish, arrogant and conceited individual. One who would blatantly show his dislike to those who he did not give an ounce of care for.

And to the shaman and other sorcerers who only knew his name, he was a force to be reckoned with and feared.

But to you, he was only Gojo Satoru.

“Y/n?” he called out softly.

“Yeah?”

“You know, I love you, right?” his face may have been hiding in your neck, but you could feel him smiling.

You raised an eyebrow at his sudden comment, but even you couldn’t stop the smile threatening to form, “I know. And I love you too, forever and always,”

“You didn’t lie though earlier,” he randomly stated, “One day, your new name will become Gojo Y/n.”

“Satoru…” you whispered, fighting back the tears that were threatening to fall.

“One day, I’ll marry you… and when we’re older you'll become the mother of our children.”

“One day Satoru, one day,” you replied, kissing his temple. “By the way, since when did you even read- romance books?”

You felt his breathing hitch and he slowly pried himself off of you, aimlessly scratching the back of his head.

“Uhm… like two years ago?”

“Why though?”

“About two years ago, there was a new transfer student. I noticed she was eloquently spoken, especially in English-”

“Eloquently spoken??” You asked, trying to suppress your laughter.

“Shut up and let me finish,”

You covered your mouth and smiled.

“Anyways, I was coming back from a mission and stuffing my face with an assortment of sweets. Then I heard you and Shoko talking about romance novels, and how you liked guys that read… so the first book I picked up was some corny romance manga and then I read Romeo and Juliet. Shitty book that I barely understood but happy ending I guess.”

“So you only started reading because you overheard me talk about it?” you pinched his cheeks, “Aw, first year Gojo Satoru was so whipped and in love, how sweet”

Satoru only rolled his eyes at your statement, and you bursted out laughing as you remembered his attempts to woo you back in your first year.

“I thought you barely had any hobbies?” you asked.

“I don’t. Because I’m good at everything.”

“Yet you still chose to pick up reading of all things?” you slightly laughed.

“I would pick up any hobby if you asked me to, honestly.”

“No offence, but if that is where you got your romance from you did a shitty job, love.” you giggled.

“Ouch,” he replied, “But hey it went pretty well, you’re mine now anyways.”

“That you are,” You replied, kissing his nose. “So if you read the book and I assume you also watched the movie, do you understand my pain?”

“100% Romeo is an airhead. He was probably just horny and infatuated with the first female he saw,” he bluntly stated and you couldn’t help but laugh out loud, Satoru joining in on your laughter.

As your laughs began to die down he continued, “On a serious note though… Whether or not it was love, their actions prove that they did love each other. I guess love really does make you blind, their suicide only proved that.”

“Tragic ending?”

“Not really… in a way, I believe it’s a happy ending- that is, assuming those two airheads were actually in love with each other.”

“Did you not hear me muttering cuss words when reading and slamming the book? If you asked me, that book was nothing but aggravating and sad.”

“Sad as their death was, it was a happy ending. They claimed to have met their soulmate and the love of their life before they died. Not everyone gets that luxury you know?”

You looked at your boyfriend with both amazement and confusion, “Since when were you so wise?”

“I don’t even know, love. But I’m not wrong…. Our story would be much happier though, because neither of us are gonna die.”

“You spoke nothing but the truth,” you quietly replied and the two of you began leaning into each other once again.

“Who knew Satoru could be such a wise lil baby,” said a voice, laughing.

The two of you immediately pulled away, and looked up to see no one other than Geto Suguru, the poor third wheeler of your relationship.

“Suguru… how long have you been there for?” you asked.

“Enough to know that this man loves you way too much… to the point where he knows his feelings for you aren’t infatuation but solid feelings.”

While you were a blushing mess, Gojo only smiled and smacked his best friend on his back, “Okay enough chit chat, why don’t we all get something to eat, yeah? I suggest-”

“Steak. We’re eating steak tonight at that new restaurant. You both are paying. It’s the least you could do for making me witness such crap.”

“You’re just mad because you’re single, bro”

“Ain’t that the truth,” you agreed.

“Shut the actual fuck, both of you lovebirds.”

The three of you then laughed and made your way to the restaurant of Suguru’s choice.

A/n: So any thoughts? I hope you all liked it <3 Ngl, this does have another part to it, but idk if I'll ever post it tbh. Follow me on my ao3 account I have other ffs there too @idekmxre

#gojo satoru #jjk gojo #jjk x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x reader #gojo x you #jujutsu kaisen #yn #jujutsu sorcerer #fanfic #character x reader #fluff #jjk fluff #established relationship #fanfiction #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujustu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen season 2

1K notes · View notes

wannabeschyulersister · 2 months

Text

where’s that man who’d throw blankets over my barbed wire?

*another angsty carmy fic coming right up*

“Ma’am? I’m sorry but we will need the table if your guest hasn’t arrived yet,” the waiter told you. You could tell he felt embarrassed to have to practically kick you out after being stood up.

You set the nice white napkin that had been on your lap on the empty plate in front of you, “I understand. Thanks for keeping me company.”

The waiter helped you put your coat back on and you placed a nice tip on the table before walking out. It felt so humiliating to sit at that table for the past hour alone.

Carmen forgot your anniversary.

You had been perfectly fine celebrating your two year anniversary with him in your nice apartment but he was the one that wanted to go all out. He chose the fancy French restaurant and made the reservation.

He was also the one that didn’t show up.

At first, you began to panic, thinking that something had happened to him on his way to the restaurant. You must’ve texted him a dozen times. When you checked his location, you saw that he was at The Bear.

There’s no way that he would forget your anniversary. Right?

Well, he did.

You walked until you were able to find a cab. Part of you wanted to confront Carmen at The Bear but you didn’t want to make a scene. Despite how mad you were at him, you respected his place of business.

Instead of going there, you went to the apartment that you shared with Carmen to wait for him. You didn’t even bother changing out of the red dress that specifically bought for that evening when you made it home. Taking off your coat, you placed it on the hook and sat on the couch.

It was an hour later when you heard the jingle of keys and the front door open and close. “Babe? You here?”

You didn’t answer him as he walked into the living room.

He set his phone and keys down on the coffee table in front of you, “Hey, what are you all dressed up for?”

“Our anniversary dinner that was two hours ago.” You answered coldly.

Carmen froze as it dawned on him that he forgot, “Fuck. Babe, I’m so fuckin’ sorry. Things have been so hectic at the restaurant these last few days and it totally slipped my mind. My phone died a few hours ago. I’m so sorry.”

He sat down next to you and tried to grab your hand. You moved it out of his grasp. “I waited for you for an hour, Carmen. It was so embarrassing. The waiter made me leave because they needed the table. How could you forget?”

“I told you. It seemed like everything that could go wrong did today. We had three waitstaff out with the flu-“

You cut him off, “Syd could’ve taken care of things for one night so that you could go out with your girlfriend! Aren’t I important too?”

Carmen looked like that question pissed him off, “Are you seriously askin’ me that fuckin’ question?”

You stood up from the couch needing some space from him, “Yes, I am because this isn’t the first time! How many times have you had to reschedule our plans? How many days do I barely see you? We’ve been together for two years, Carmen and I feel like we are just two strangers at this point.”

“Why haven’t you said anything then if you feel that way?”

“I’ve tried to have date nights and I’ve even stopped by The Bear to see if you can go on a coffee break. You always turn me down because something more important is pressing.” You’d been dying to have this conversation with him for some time now.

After countless times of letting things go, you were blurting out everything that you’d want to tell him. It had all been weighing so heavily on you lately. You could feel it draining you.

“(Y/n), I inherited a mess from Michael. I had to look after everyone’s jobs and-“

You interrupted him again, “I’m not saying that you have to choose me or the restaurant, Carmen. That would be incredibly selfish of me. But…. it’s like you’re out building this life for yourself and I’m just here hoping that you give me an ounce of attention.”

“You’re making it sound like our relationship is horrible. I thought that we were doing good.”

That almost hurt you more than being stood up on your anniversary. He thought that things were good? He hadn’t noticed that the two of you were so incredibly distant?

“Things haven’t been good in a long time. When we first started dating, you were present and it seemed like you’d do anything to spend time with me.”

“That was before we remodeled the restaurant. I had more time but now-“

“Now, you’re too busy for me.”

He shook his head, “I’m not, (Y/n). I just had more time back then. Now, it’s all on me. I’m stressed out.”

“I don’t want to add to your stress, Carmen.”

“Wh-what are you trying to say?” He stood up and made his way closer to you. You could tell that he was anxious about where the direction of this conversation was going.

“I’m not happy. I haven’t been for a while. I’ve tried to make things better but I can’t do it alone. I deserve to be with someone who I don’t have to beg to want to be with me.”

“(Y/n), I don’t want to be without you. I’ll start coming home earlier and I’ll uh have Sydney and Marcus start taking some more responsibility. I will-“

“And in a month when things are super crazy at The Bear because of the holidays? We’re back in this situation again. What kind of promises will you make then?”

Carmen seemed confused, “Do you not want to work on things?”

“A month ago, hell even a few weeks ago, I would’ve said yes, but I’m tired, Carmen. Tonight felt like it was the last straw. Sitting alone, you not answering your phone, it was embarrassing and so painful. I love you so much. But I think for the both of us, it’ll be better if we weren’t together.”

“I don’t want us to break up, (Y/n). I love you.” Carmen said softly.

You pulled him closer. He rested his head against your shoulder, “We can both focus on ourselves. I’m so proud of everything that you’ve done. You deserve all of the praise that is coming your way.”

You wanted to appear strong but on the inside you were breaking as well. There was a point in time where you imagined spending the rest of your life with Carmen Berzatto.

Now, there was a strong possibility that he wouldn’t be in your future. Were you making the right decision?

It might’ve felt like you weren’t in the moment. You just wanted to feel wanted and happy and with someone who couldn’t get enough of you. Carmen was that man at first. Things changed for the better and for the worse.

“I hate that I took you for granted. I will regret it for the rest of my life.” You felt him kiss your neck softly.

“I’ll still be here if you need me. You know that right?”

He nodded as you both stood there wrapped around each other saying your goodbyes without words.

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x (y/n)#carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto x you #the bear x reader #the bear imagine #carmy x reader #carmy berzatto

413 notes · View notes

thepersonnamedsam · 11 months

Note

hiii, love your stuff<33 could I maybe request a gen z reader blurb where after getting in a crash due to a mechanical issue everyone worries about her and she’s pissed because she felt seen as weak and vulnerable?? THANK U SO MUCH

life goes on

pairing: genz!driver x '23!grid and some seb cameo

summary: see request :)

word count: 2.1k

warnings: crash, blood, injury, anger issues, tears (idk if that’s a warning), media talks bad about genz!driver, foul language

note: thank you so much for the request!! i am not quite sure if i should write the genz!driver stories in a you pov or a she/her pov, what would you prefer, please let me know, ty :))

masterlist / taglist

It started with a bad day. FP1 was shit, FP2 was also not great. Her day was just not great. Free practice 3 was better, the car had finally responded to her again. In the first two laps, everything went smooth. She was already singing Smooth Operator in her head. But suddenly the car stirred, luckily she saved herself and didn’t crash, but she did retire from the session.

Her engineer and her sat together for Qualifying. She told him everything she noticed whilst driving.

„I feel like the steering wheel is not responding on time. It’s like it’s two seconds delayed, which is not good.“

He nodded and wrote it down on a notepad. „I feel like there’s nothing we can do, I can check with the mechanics, but qualifying is in two hours, which may not be enough time“, her race engineer told her. She sighed. The last two days were bad for y/n, she hasn’t slept good for at least four days. She nodded and told him that she’d be in her drivers room.

As qualifying started, she only got in one good lap before she had to retire. She was right, her steering wheel indeed had a slight delay. Which made turning corners very hard. She ended Q1 in P19, her worst result in qualifying yet. She was disappointed, in herself and in the car.

Her mechanics tried to fix the issue until the race started, but with no hope. She prepared herself for the race, knowing it would not be an easy one. She was scared, like scared shitless. She tried to call Sebastian during Q2, but he did not pick up. Opting for a quick text, she asked him to call her back as soon as possible.

Lewis heard what happened to y/n car during Q1 and wanted to comfort the young driver. With long strides he went to her motorhome. Her engineer just pointed to her drivers room as soon as he saw Lewis approach him. Three short knocks. Her head snapped up as the door opened. Lewis was standing there, looking pitiful and held his arms out.

„Are you okay, darling?“, he asked her as she nuzzled her head in his shoulders. She let her tears fall freely. Shaking her head she told him how she felt. „The steering wheel is delayed, which is so difficult to drive with and also dangerous. But my mechanics can’t fix it, they don’t know why it’s happening and a whole reboot of the system would take too long! I’m scared, Lewis. I don’t know what to do.“

His hand firm on her backside, he just held the young woman. Telling her to retire to not cause a crash would’ve been the best thing. Tell her to refuse to race. But he didn’t, knowing the girl and her ambitions. She would race, no matter what. She didn’t want to be seen as weak or even worse, girly.

She was girly, but not in the sense of racing. She was just as ‚manly‘ as the other drivers.

„I know that you will make the right decision about the whole situation“, Lewis told her. Oh, how wrong he was.

Q3 was finished with Verstappen on pole, as always, Perez on P2 and Leclerc on P3. Happy to see Charles starting this high, she went into the race with somewhat a good feeling. The first three laps were okay, she sank down to P20, DeVries overtook her with ease on the second corner, as she slowed down as much as possible to control the car. But the longer the race was, the more angry she got. It was not fair, the steering wheel was just not responding.

On lap 24 y/n’s car crashed. In corner eight, her steering wheel stopped working. Instead of a turn, the car just went straight into the pit wall. The front wing smashed against the wall, squashing it against her own car. Her head was spinning. What just happened?

„Red flag, the FIA just announced a red flag in corner eight. Seems like y/l/n crashed. Let’s hope she’s fine.“

Several team radios went through.

„Charles, y/n crashed in corner eight, there’s a red flag, be careful.“

„Lewis, there is a red flag.“

„Be careful, Max. You are approaching corner eight where y/n has had a crash.“

And many more. Everyone was concerned. What has happened? What did she do to crash her car like that. Was she responsive? Responsible? What was going on?

„y/n, please respond. The race has been stopped. What happened?“, her race engineer tried to speak to her, she was non-responsive.

„What the fuck, what happened?! Is she responsive? Are the medics on their way?“, Lewis was the first to address the situation. „We don’t know, we don’t see any medics yet, Lewis.“

And as Max pulled up to corner eight he hopped out of his car. He ran towards hers and yelled for her, to show him a sign that she was still alive, without a response. He was worried, he was always worried when someone crashed, but he was extra worried when she did.

„y/n! What happened? Are you okay? Please give me a sign!“, he tried it again, with no luck. He saw her helmet move, the flashy colours moving from side to side. „Ach godzijdank Ah, thank god“, he mumbled.

The medics arrived and ushered Max to the side. Taking her out of the car and laying her on a spinal board. Transporting her into the ambulance.

She was devastated. It was not her fault she crashed. But the media didn’t know that. They would accuse her of crashing yet another car. That she wasn’t good enough to be in Formula 1. They would report about her as if she wasn’t a human being and just something they could play with. They would talk about her like a doll. It was not fair.

Meanwhile on the paddock the talking began. Lewis was the most worried, he should’ve just told her to refuse racing. What if she suffered a serious injury? Like a neck or spine injury and couldn’t race anymore. It was his fault, that’s what he thought.

Lando was worried too, not really knowing what happened, he was just worried. She could be injured. The minutes went by without any news from her. They were hard for Lando.

Even Checo, who wasn’t usually a companion of y/n, was worried. He didn’t see what happened, but he heard from Max how the crash looked - bad, it looked bad.

„We hear from the medics; y/n is okay. At least that. Let’s hope the race will continue without another crash.“

Lewis released a breather, not knowing he heals so much air in his lungs. He was glad y/n was okay. He still felt bad, always feeling responsible for her. And now that she crashed, his head was spinning with gut wrenching thoughts and worry.

The FIA announced the green flag and the race continued without y/n. When she got back to her garage, her motorhome, she expected a angry team principal, angry mechanics and engineers, expect she was greeted with relieved sighs and shoulder droppings. Her engineer was the first one to embrace her. He told her how sorry he was and how everything was definitely not her fault.

She was still angry, no points, no race, no happy ending for that day. Everything was shit. She had a shit day that race. And it was not even her own fault.

Her team principal came towards her, gripping her shoulders hard and said: „I know this seems bad, it is, but we can fix it. I wish I could send you home, but media still awaits.“

So she waited, she waited lap after lap until eventually Max won the race. She waited until her PR got her out of the drivers room and took her to the media pen, where the post race conferences will be held.

Sky Sports interviewed the todays winner. So, y/n waited for Max to finish. She hoped he would never finish, that she would never have to face the camera and talk about the incident.

But that didn’t happen.

„Hello y/n, how do you feel? Everything okay, no pain?“, the nice interviewer asked her. „Uh, yeah, everything is fine“, she struggled with her answer, not believing herself that everything was fine.

„Can you tell me what happened? We just saw you crashing?“ - „Uhm, yeah“, she looked towards her media PR, what was she allowed to say? She shook her head - no bad words about her team. „I-, uh, I lost control of my steering wheel.“

The interviewer nodded. „We saw you retire from the race after Q1, having struggled already in FP1 and 2. Did you have problems with your steering wheel during them as well?“

She sighed. She was tired, her neck ached and she just wanted to be in her bed.

„I mean, kind of, yeah you could say I struggled with it during free practice.“

If she told the interviewer that she struggled with it during the whole yesterday and today, she would’ve bad mouthed the team.

„Last question for today, y/n. We asked Twitter for some comments, would you be so kind to make a statement to some of them?“

She really didn’t want to, knowing exactly what most of them had to say; women don’t belong in motorsports, etc.

„Sure“, she sighed. Her PR nodded, happy that y/n decided not to refuse.

„Alright, @motodports_2 said: That’s the second time this season that y/n crashed her car and we are only on the 7th race. What do you have to say to that?“

She closed her eyes, the headache creeping in like a madman with a desire to kill. „That’s true, that was the second crash of the season. And I am sorry for that, my team doesn’t deserve me crashing that many times during the season. I apologise.“

Sebastian was sitting at home, watching the race from his couch. He couldn’t believe what she was saying. The team doesn’t deserve a driver that crashes so much? Bullshit.

He missed her calls earlier that day, he wished he would’ve picked up his phone or at least called her back. But what she was telling to that interviewer was absolute bull.

Charles, who was next in line, also couldn’t believe the stuff you were telling Sky Sports.

„Okay, @maydrive says: The way y/n is throwing away her career in F1 with those shenanigans. Get a grip, will you?“, the interviewer read from the screen in front.

Charles was shocked, he never had to respond to any comments like that. How was she experiencing something like that?

„Uh yeah, thank you @maydrive for that. I will try to get a grip, and you are right, I am throwing away my F1 career like that, but I don’t want that, that’s why I will keep trying to get better“, her eyes were starting water. Just don’t let those tears fall, y/n. They want to see her cry, don’t give them the satisfaction of it.

„Thank you, y/n. Rest up and good evening!“

Her PR pulled her away and onto the next interview. After all that, she was exhausted. Exhausted and angry. How could they be asking her questions like that? Not fair.

Back in her garage, she let the emotions flow. Tears were streaming down her face, sobs were heard and her body was shaking. Her PR handed y/n her phone, leaving her again with a gentle pat to the shoulder.

Seb was calling her.

„Before you say anything, don’t let them treat you like that ever again. Not your fault, if you had problems with the steering wheel, it is not your place to apologise“, Seb interrupted her, before she could even sob into the phone. He heard sniffles. „Don’t cry, liebes dear. You did nothing wrong today.“

„Seb, I wish you’d be here“, she sobbed into the phone. It broke his heart. Comforting someone over the phone was hard, much more if the person being comforted was a teenager.

„It’s gonna be okay, life goes on, okay?“, he told her. „I just feel so weak and vulnerable. They hate me, they always find something wrong with my driving.“

„You are not weak! Who told you that?“, a voice from behind her sounded from the dark. Fernando Alonso stepped out of the shadow. Seb instantly recognised the older spaniards voice over the phone. Glad y/n was not alone in a time like this.

Fernando embraced her. Hugging her tight and firmly. He felt her heartbeat against his chest, beating like crazy. „Breathe with me, y/n.“

They were standing in her motorhome, embraced in one another. If a camera had noticed, headliners would say: Alonso and y/l/n dating confirmed? But there was no camera around.

She had her family here in F1. She belonged here, just as much as any other driver. She was not at fault. She was not weak or vulnerable. She was strong.

°°°

taglist: @ironmaiden1313 , @topguncultleader , @missskid , @gulabjamooon , @lovelyy-moonlight , @peachyplumsss , @mistrose23

#f1 x reader #formula 1 #f1 #charles leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader #sebastian vettel x reader #fernando alonso #gen z problems #gen z funny #genz!driver #female driver #genz driver #crash #f1 crash

2K notes · View notes

webslingingslasher · 1 year

Text

Crush

Genre: fluff

Word count: 6k

Summary: you like peter, he doesn't get it. until you confide in spider-man

i hope you guys like this, i've been really really busy at work but i'm working on my other fic i promise.

You didn’t know Peter Parker was Spider-Man.

To be fair, no one really knew. Tony Stark knew because he knows everything, May knows because she walked in on him in the suit, so did Ned, and MJ found out on her own, because, well, she knows everything. So enter in you, a girl who moved into the city and got into a smart kid school. Almost immediately you befriended MJ, you sat next to her in English and noticed her head stuck in a book. You leaned over into her space, you saw her tense up and smiled at her eyes peeking at you through the corners.

“Hi, I’m Y/N. I’m new here and I want to die in a falling elevator, what about you?”

MJ peered at you and smirked, she stuck out a hand to shake yours.

“Hi, I’m MJ. I’m old here and I’m still trying to decide.”

You two have been friends since.

“No, you’re not getting it Ned! I dare you to ask Betty, that is if she’ll still talk to you.” Peter grinned at his friend and laughed when Ned threw a spork at him. Ned and Betty were in their usual weekly dispute, usually something dumb but slightly significant.

“Are you just mad I have a girlfriend that gets mad at me?” Ned teased back. He did feel like he had the upper hand, being honest he always thought Peter would have all his firsts, well, first. But Ned was collecting the firsts while Peter kept to himself.

Peter scoffed at the assumption, “No way man, If I was a boyfriend I would never pick a fight. I’d be a good boy and listen.” He hummed and shot his eyes to yours, you were already looking at him.

“Right, Y/N?” He shot a wink at you and you froze, was that real? Was he actually talking to you?

Peter Parker is beautiful. You’re not sure when you liked him, actually you think you always have. The second you met him you felt pulled to him, you couldn’t stay away from him. Subconsciously you walked the longer loop around the school to peek at him at his locker, and you always laughed at his jokes, and you made constant eye contact when you weren’t staring at his mouth.

His brown curls laid over his forehead, you remember last week he was talking about getting it cut, and you frowned at him and said ‘absolutely not, if anything you should grow it longer’, you can’t help but notice it hasn’t been cut yet, and he is looking more tempting by the day. Maybe two more weeks and you could have an excuse to run your hand through it, tell him you noticed it was in his eyes and you were just helping.

Even MJ knew, you think Ned and Betty have an inkling. When the four of you were together they loved to talk about Peter, except they would only praise him. He has the ultimate wingmen even if he didn’t know it. And speaking of not knowing, he had no clue you were into him. It’s not like you’ve been straightforward but you also didn’t hide it. You always made flirty comments towards him, and he would usually smile shyly and brush it off.

“How did you think you did on Mr. Tusks test? I think I did fine.” He once asked during a passing period, you made a show of looking him up and down, “Oh trust me, you’re fine.” Peter rolled his eyes and then asked if you had heard about Kayte and Brendon.

“Can you do me a favor?” Peter asked while you and the rest of the group met at his house for a study session before PSATS, looking over at you from his shoulder at the kitchen table. You stepped closer and grabbed his bicep, “Trust me, I’d do anything for you, Peter.” MJ let out a quiet ‘oooh’ and Peter flushed, he cleared his throat and held up some crumpled paper. “Can you throw these away for me, please?”

You wrapped your hand around the paper in his and let your fingers rest against his palm for a moment, you looked in his eyes and pouted. “Aw, that’s all?” He looked at MJ for help, she instead looked at you and smirked with a slight nod to her head. You met her with a similar smirk and walked away to the trash can.

Then that time at the movies you hopped around Ned to steal the spot next to Peter, “Dibs! If anyone is gonna get cuddly with Peter it’s gonna be me.” You pushed Ned’s shoulder to prove your seriousness when his jaw dropped open, he sputtered but then slunk to the seat next to you. Peter joked to ease the tension, “There’s enough of me to go around,” you looked at him and smiled, “but most of you is mine, right?” Peter went to respond but the lights dropped and the trailers started.

You almost thought he made a move, almost.

During the movie he lent into your ear, his warm breath sent goosebumps down your spine. “Hey.” You turned your head and almost stopped breathing, his face was right against yours, if he lent up half an inch your lips would meet. You wondered if this was the moment, all the flirting was for something. “Yeah?” You whispered back, you looked between his eyes and mouth, he caught you looking at his lips and watched you lean in a tad closer. “Can I get a sip of your slushie?”

His grin was highlighted in the blue light of the theater screen. You grumbled and thrust the plastic cup at his chest, “Not how I imagined swapping spit with you in a movie theater, but I guess it will do.” Peter nodded absentmindedly while his attention was on the screen, and you might have maybe, just for a second, thought about punching him in the ribs.

And right now he was asking you if he would be a good boyfriend.

“Are you kidding me Parker? You’re the definition of boyfriend material.” You matched the grin he gave you and he shot a HA! At Ned.

“Told you! And when I finally find a girlfriend I’m gonna be the best boyfriend.” He made a cocky grin at Ned that let him know he won the fight. Your ears were ringing, did he just say? He couldn't have. No way he’s that dumb.

You slap your palms on the table and narrow your eyes at him, “What do you mean find a girlfriend?”

“Oh! You know, when I finally have a chick that’s into me.” He shrugged, so casual. Did he think you were just playing around?

“When you have a chick, into you.” You repeated the words slower and watched him nod his head and take a sip of chocolate milk.

MJ hid her snort under a cough, you turned to look at her, silently saying ‘is he for real right now?’ and MJ gave a look back that said ‘oh i think he is.’

You kissed your teeth, “and tell me Peter, how the fuck would you know when a girl is into you?”

His eyes widened for a second, “Uh, I dunno. I think if she likes me she’ll make it known.”

You laughed dryly, “Or she can make it known and you’re just totally oblivious.”

Peter thought for a moment and hummed, “No, I think I’d know.”

You looked at MJ with a wide mouth.

“Okay. Fuck this, I’m out.” You grabbed your backpack off the table and stomped out the cafetera doors.

“Did I say something to make her mad?” Peter missed the look MJ and Ned shared.

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

Peter couldn’t help but feel guilty, he didn’t know what he did but he’s almost sure he made you upset. And he would normally never interfere with Spider-Man but he’s the one that saw you tossing pebbles and crushed cans at a brick wall down an alleyway. So he had to make sure you were okay, just doing his civilian duties.

“Fucking stupid, oblivious, what does he want me to do? Fucking show up at his house naked?” You mumbled to yourself and kicked a cardboard box, sending it into the side of a dumpster.

You heard something drop behind you, spinning to the sound you were met with the masked vigilante seen across the city. You had never seen him in person, not even a glimpse when you were walking around. You were starting to believe he was a figment of people's imagination.

You narrowed your eyes, you didn’t know or care why he was there.

“Fuck off, Spider-Man.” You turned to throw another rock at the wall and watch it bounce off, just like all your attempts with Peter. That frustrating prick.

“Bad day?”

He didn’t leave and he just brought a shit storm apun himself.

You spun to face him again, “You have no idea.”

“Tell me about it.” Maybe you would slip why you were pissed at lunch.

You looked him up and down and tapped a finger on your chin, “Do you take hits?”

“Like punches? I mean I try-”

You cut him off, “No. I mean if I tell you to beat someone up would you do it?”

Peter’s eyes widened in the mask, but then collected himself.

“Maybe, it depends why you want them beaten up.”

“Because he deserves pain.” You threw another rock.

“Who’s he?” Peter had a feeling it was himself.

You groaned and rubbed at your eyes, you paused to think of the story and decided to tell the whole thing to make sense.

“Are you like a therapist or something?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like patient doctor confidentiality. I can tell you anything and no one knows?”

Peter thought to himself, he had never viewed himself that way but he sees how some may think of him like that. Just a random guy to dump their shit unto.

“Sure, yeah. I won’t go screaming from the rooftops about your bad day with ‘he’.” He used air quotes around the ‘he’ and smiled when he made you laugh.

“Alright, cool.” You nodded and paused after rubbing the bridge of your nose, then finally looking into the white masked eyes of Spider-Man.

“You brought this on yourself. Okay look, I’m new here right? Moved here from Manhattan, and got into this, like, super smart kid school.” You watched the masked face nod.

“And I met this girl on my first day and she’s super cool and she tells me she’s gonna introduce me to her friends, and I was super excited to make friends, right?” You watched him to make sure he was listening, “And sorry for the next part, if you’re like a thirty year old guy just understand I am a horny teenager and you were once me, okay? Okay.”

“So I met her friends, Ned and Peter. And let me tell you, Peter? Wow! Look, I’ll level with you. I’ve liked dudes before, maybe even kissed a few, who’s to know?” Peter froze for a moment, did you just hint at what he thinks?

“But, Peter? I have literally never wanted to hump someone's face until I saw him.”

Peter coughed then cleared his throat, his cheeks felt on fire.

He knows you’ve always said things to him, he knows it was flirty but he didn’t realize you were being serious, cause he was him, and you were you. Peter never had that aha moment where he realized you were in fact flirting and did like him like that. He now wants to curl in shame because of the way he’s blown you off for so long, he doesn’t know why he thought you were always playing around with him, especially now. Because you only ever told Peter, you wanted Peter.

Peter feels really dumb right now watching a girl he never thought he could pull, in distress because he is in fact, not pulling her.

“I don’t know how to explain it but I felt so pulled to him, I hadn’t known him for twelve seconds and I wanted to know everything about him, you know? And I’ve tried everything, man. I don’t know how much more clear I can get, I mean I flirt with him all the time. Like, all the time. I literally told him I wanted to make out with him at the movies and he was just like… But can I get some of that slushie? I wanted to kill him and then myself.”

You noticed the wide eyes on the mask but held up a hand to continue.

“And today! My god I really thought he got it, get this, the fucker,” You exclaimed the fucker. “This fucker looks at me, dead in the eye and says ‘I’d be a good boyfriend right?’ and I was like ‘Oh my god, yes. You are literally perfection, look at you. So handsome, such baby, I will die if I don’t kiss you.’ And he goes, and I cannot make this shit up, ‘when I finally find a girlfriend I’ll be the best boyfriend.’” You mocked his voice, well not Peter’s, but a general man's voice.

“Oh.” The first response you’ve heard from him yet.

You laughed bitterly. “Oh, I’m not even at the part that made me fly off the wall.”

Peter knows what you’re talking about.

“At this point I just thought he was his normal little dumb self but when he said that? Game over. So I said, ‘how the fuck would you know when a girl is into you?’ just like that too, and he goes,” You paused to laugh again and shake your head, “‘I think if she likes me she’ll make it known.’ How fucking disconnected is he from reality? I wonder what it would be like to be in his head, really. Just a fuckton of open space huh? Anyways, I just told him that maybe she is making it known and he’s just not paying attention and he goes, ‘hmm, nope. I’d think I know.’ I couldn’t take it and just walked out.”

You finished up your rant, “So, in conclusion. Fuck Peter Parker, but also, I want to fuck Peter Parker. It’s hard being 17.”

For the first time Spider-Man was speechless. He didn’t know how to navigate this because he wanted to take your side but also didn’t want to throw Peter under the bus. When he noticed you were waiting for a response he let out a ‘Wow.’

“Well, wow.” He was still trying to find words.

“I know right? I told you, you brought this on yourself.” You sat against the brick wall and pulled a quarter from your pocket running it across your knuckles. Spider-Man moved to sit next to you.

“I know you say you’ve been forward but maybe he thinks you’re joking, or maybe he didn’t see it like that because he thought you wouldn’t like him like that.”

“Babes, you have no idea how much I like him like that.”

“Right. I mean, maybe give it another shot, you never know.” He shrugged his shoulders, who knows? Peter may even ask for a date next time you talk.

“Oh, you think I’m giving up?” You raised an eyebrow at him. “No way, if anything this makes him even more attractive. Who doesn’t like a good chase? I will tell you my next method was just popping up at his place like, you, me, lets fuck, right here, right now.”

“Chasing is only fun if you catch them in the end. And I doubt this Peter kid would ever give into that method, you’d scare the shit out of him.” You sighed and thought about it. “You’re right, he would respect me too much. It’s gross how much I love that.” You watched the quarter roll across your middle knuckle and held it tightly.

You leaned a cheek against the hero’s shoulder.

“Don’t beat up Peter Parker. He’s a sweet boy, just a little unaware.”

“Although, if he doesn’t wake up to smell the bacon next time we talk I’m sending you a smoke signal and his address and I won’t let you leave until I see blood.”

Peter let out a big laugh, “Deal.”

You stood up and brushed off your butt then reached a hand out to help Spider-Man up.

“Thanks for talking me off the ledge. Here’s a tip.” You tossed the quarter in your hand towards the red glove.

Peter nodded and gave a two finger salute, “Just doing my job ma'am, I am the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man after all. I’ll look around for you, I hope I get a Peter update soon.”

You smiled at the hero once more.

“Me too.”

You watched as he took off and started to walk home, not even twenty minutes later a text came through.

hey, sorry if i made you upset at lunch today.

It's fine, I'm sure you’ll make it up to me.

yeah, i’ll show you how sorry i can be.

And hell if your breath didn’t hitch. Did he just flirt with you? There is no way in God’s green earth did he just send a text like that not knowing how you’d take it. Did he finally wake up and smell the roses? Did the behavior at lunch kick in a thinking cell?

Either way, you couldn’t wait for school tomorrow.

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

Walking in the doors you rubbed the palm of your hand over your cold nose, the temperature was slowly reminding you summer was over and the nips of frost and changing leaf colors proved it. You were excited for fall and winter, you would have friends to go to a halloween party with, maybe even get to wear a couples costume with Peter if it worked out for you. You would trickle into thanksgiving and then have a whole season for cookies, movies and snow fights. A part of you couldn’t help but think about Peter's eyes sparkling in the christmas lights.

Peter’s head darted up at you the second you walked through the door, his teeth nibbling his bottom lip. He wasn’t sure what to say, or if he should say anything. Does he wait for you to say something? Does he walk up and ask you on a date?

Either way you were about to walk past him, you looked preoccupied, in your own world. You were nibbling on your thumb nail, lost in your thoughts about Peter, and the weather, and Peter, and snow, and carving pumpkins with Peter, and the way leaves would crunch under your feet, and then floated to central park and walking hand in hand with Peter, and kissing Peter under a tree, or maybe he’d take you to rockefeller plaza and ask you to be his girlfriend there, and you just know in your heart Peter would always give you extra whipped cream on your hot chocolate.

You were so lost in thinking about Peter you didn’t see Peter.

Not until he jumped in front of you.

“Hey!” He smiled and it made your eyes go hazy.

“Peter.” You let out dreamily, still stuck in daydreams where he was yours.

“Whatcha thinking about?” His grin gave away he knew, but you know he didn’t.

“Would you give me extra whipped cream on hot chocolate?”

“Oh yeah. I’d even throw in some mini marshmallows and a cinnamon stick. Or do you like peppermint more?”

You fawned at his response, he was so gentle it warmed you.

“Would you carve pumpkins with me?” You looked at his locker.

“Why not? Seems fun.” He tapped his fist against your shoulder.

“I would need your help, cause I’m good at getting the guts out but the actual carving part hurts my hand because I have to use so much force. So I could draw a design and you could cut it for me, cause you're way stronger than me.”

“Why are you good at getting the guts out?” He poked a finger at your elbow to get your attention back on his face.

You bit your bottom lip and changed topics.

“Have you ever walked through central park?”

I mean, if Peter thinks about it he’s spent a fair amount of time there, but he’s not roaming around. He’s swinging around or stopping crime or running after someone, so he guesses not. He’s never walked through the park and enjoyed it, he thinks he did it a few times as a kid but he can’t remember the last time he went.

“As a kid, I haven’t been in a while.”

“I think it would be really pretty to walk through it when the leaves all change.”

“I love the feeling of the leaves crunching under my feet.”

“Me too! As a kid I used to build leaf forts and just roll around for hours.” You smiled brightly at the shared feeling.

“We could go sometime, just say when. We could even get the group together.” He winked playfully but dropped the grin when he saw the disappointment flash in your eyes when he added the friends part. You didn’t want a group trip, you wanted a Peter trip.

“Or it could be just a you and me thing, I think I could use some one on one time with you.” Peter retracted his earlier statement. Your eyes lit up at his suggestion, “really? You do?”

“Yeah, of course. I love talking to you.” He smiled and watched you bite your bottom lip as you stared at his.

“Anything fun happen yesterday? I didn’t see you after lunch.” Was he possibly hinting at you talking about him to him? Yes.

“Uh,” You trailed and thought about telling him, scared if you said too much he’d ask details.

“You know, I started to believe Spider-Man was a mass hallucination, turns out he’s a real guy. Kinda cool.”

Peter raised his eyebrows, “You suddenly came to that belief yesterday?”

“Well I mean, you know. He was like, there. And was like, hey.” You gave a general response and shrugged your shoulders.

“He was just there and said hey?” He slowly repeated the words back.

“Hey! He promised he wouldn’t talk about what we discussed and I will promise the same. We had a nice conversation about someone close to me and he gave me a little pep talk.” You defended your stance.

“Like patient doctor confidentiality?” He was having a little fun here.

“Exactly! It was true alleyway therapy. I even gave him a quarter for his troubles.” You crossed your arms and grinned, it was funny how good you felt after talking to him yesterday. Maybe exploding emotions on a third party stranger was good.

“Sounds like you have a crush on Spidey.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “If he was here right now, and heard that coming from your mouth? He would have a fucking field day, I promise you that.”

Peter raised his eyebrows in coyness.

“From me? Sounds like he knows something, was I maybe the close person you had a conversation about?”

Your cheeks felt warm, you were on the spot. You always hinted at your crush on Peter but you were kind of pussy to outright say it so you hoped he would catch on and ask you out. But now you didn’t know how to react, you had said too much and backed yourself into a corner.

You opened your mouth to play off a response when the bell for first period rang out, you let out a breath of relief and smiled at Peter.

“Saved by the bell.”

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

You were begging Spider-Man was out, looking around where he had dropped down yesterday.

Things have progressed with Peter and you promised him an update, it was just about keeping him in the loop. It had nothing to do with getting to fantasize and romanticize you and Peter’s interactions.

Jumping in excitement you saw him standing on the corner of the same building you were hiding behind yesterday, hands on his hips with his head turned the opposite way.

“Spider-Man!” You whisper shouted.

“Hey! Spidey!” You raised your tone some.

“Yo! Spider-boy!” You picked up a pebble and threw it up the building.

Getting his attention the hero looked behind him then pointed at himself with a thumb, “me?” You rolled your eyes, “yes, you. C’mere.” Watching him jump down and land in a squatted pose you couldn’t help but think about how fucked up your ankles would’ve been if you tried it.

“Peter update, bitch. I don’t have another quarter on me, so this will have to be on the house.”

“I kept it.” He handed it back to you and you thought about how if Peter did that you would be putty in your shoes.

“I think he was flirting with me. I think. I don’t know, he’s so coy. I love him.” You sighed and held a hand to your heart.

“And I am so sadistic, I’m using him as a pawn in my sick games. I’m asking him questions that I’ve already answered in my head about him and when he gives me a response it’s better than I imagined.”

“Maybe he was flirting, or trying. Something tells me you make him nervous.”

“Am I intimidating? I don’t want him scared of me, I want to mash my parts with his.” You pouted and thought if you were making him uncomfortable.

“First, gross.” (Not really, he also wants to mash parts.)

“Second, I don’t think you’re intimidating. I just think you are much more forward than him.”

“Oh no. Is that a problem? Do I keep doing what I am, or should I let him do this? Am I over stepping? I’ve never had a boyfriend, is he supposed to pursue me? Have I done everything backwards? Oh god.” You covered your face with your hands and missed Peter's eyes growing wide and his panicked arm movements.

“No, no, no, no. You’re fine, you’re good. It’s good. You can make the first move, totally okay. I just meant you’re expecting him to ask you out any second and I think you need to make it more noticeable rather than joking.”

“Ew! Gross! I will not walk up to that man and tell him I wanna smooch.”

“Oh, C’mon! You basically already have!”

“Nope. Not happening. You’ve helped me make up my mind, I will wait for Peter Parker to make the next move.” You tossed the quarter back to him, “Don’t worry. You’ll see me again.”

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

“Woah, wait.” MJ stopped in her tracks and spoke her next words carefully.

“You told Spider-Man about your crush on Peter?” Her voice was smooth and quick, MJ almost felt panicked for you, because you didn’t know what you just did.

“Yeah?” You didn’t get the big deal, not like Spider-Man knew who Peter was anyways.

“What did he say?” MJ was pulling at the thread.

“That I should be more clear, or less intimidating, or something.”

“He said you were intimidating?” MJ narrowed her eyes.

“Well kind of, when I said that he kind of back tracked but-”

MJ cut you off when he locked eyes with Peter coming down the hall towards you, he tilted his head in question, he knew that look and he wasn’t sure why he deserved it. She grabbed Peter’s forearm and tugged him next to her, your eyes went wide. You didn’t need to understand why MJ decided to bring Peter into this conversation, you just needed to end it.

“Peter, do you think Y/N is intimidating?”

His eyes saw your subtle head shake at her, an unvocal way of telling her to shut the fuck up.

“Uh, no. Not at all. Why?”

MJ waited for you to talk but you stayed silent, you would definitely spill if you tried to navigate the conversation.

“Because, the Queens nightly hero thinks she is.” Her tone was bitter, who knew MJ was this defensive over you.

“He said I was too forward, MJ. Drop it.” You pleaded to get out of this alive.

“Too forward, imagine that, Peter. Imagine confiding in someone about a crush and they say you’re too forward.”

You felt your knees hit your ankles, Peter would connect the dots. You told him you had a conversation and MJ just admitted it was about a crush.

You started to dryly laugh, not allowing Peter a chance to answer that.

“Not a crush! Nope! Don’t know where you got that theory.” You darted your eyes around looking for an escape.

“No?” Peter questioned you.

“You know MJ, she lives in her own world. Never said anything about having a crush on someone, definitely not you.”

Peter had to play into this, your turn to squirm.

“Who said I thought you had a crush on me?”

Your heart couldn’t beat any louder than it was at the moment.

“No one did.” You flashed a nervous smile.

“No, I think you just did.”

You breathed heavily out your nose and looked harshly at MJ like ‘wtf? Why did you do this?’

“I just didn’t want you to think I have a crush on you.”

Peter pouted, “Why not? I think it would be cute.”

It was your turn to sputter.

“Cute? It would be cute? Cute how? Cute, that's adorable or cute, let's date?”

You didn’t miss MJ’s look of ‘wow. Subtle much?’

“Depends. Do you have a crush on me?”

“Do you think I have a crush on you?”

Peter hummed and pretended to think.

“Sometimes.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“Only sometimes?”

“I’m confused. Do you want me to think you have a crush on me or not?”

MJ raised her hands and slowly started to back away.

“Depends. How would you react?” You cautioned.

“Probably how you want me to react.”

“And how do I want you to react?”

Peter smiled and leaned in close, you held your breath for a moment. Was he about to kiss you? Is that how you want him to react? Yes.

“You tell me.”

Then he straightened himself and winked as he walked away.

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

Peter just had to wait for an opening, not that you would take long to give him one. You couldn’t keep it in, it was second nature at this point.

If there was any way he could ask you out casually then you needed to make it a bit clear, as much as you said you wanted it he couldn’t imagine the flip of “he doesn’t notice anything” to “hey, wanna go out?”

Peter was trying to set himself up for one of your comments and you tried your best to keep a poker face but when he said that? Game over.

“I think I have a shot, she totally likes me.”

Was he talking about you? He better be, because if you were walking into his house for the regular Friday movie night and he was talking about another girl you would actually lose it. You had just got there, still waiting for MJ and Ned to show up when he greeted you with his words.

“Who likes you?”

“Kendra! During math she was holding up her highlighters trying to match one to my shirt. It’s pretty obvious right?”

“No.”

“No?”

“No. You can’t be serious.”

“I am! I told you if someone liked me they would make it obvious, and I’m pretty sure she did.”

“Oh fuck you Peter! You’re the actual worst, I sit here all fucking day saying things to you, about literally wanting to be all over you and a girl with a fucking highlighter collection is booted to top of the list?”

“I mean, what am I? Chopped liver? I have been pining after you for months, and all it took was a highlighter? Do you know I wear that green sweater all the time because you said you liked it once, or that I follow you around like a puppy? How about when I flirt with you, or do you even know I’m flirting with you?”

Peter had a shit eating grin that made you even more upset.

“Why are you so happy right now, you’re really pissing me off.”

Peter stalked towards you until you were backed up into the wall, with nowhere to go you felt his chest brush yours, his arms caging you against the wall, your head between both of his hands.

Save for the position, you were excited. This was going to be a new daydream scenario, he had you pinned to the wall. The only way out was through him.

He leant in close, if you just pushed yourself up you could have his lips on yours.

“Because, you finally admitted it.”

You narrowed your gaze at him.

“What is that supp-”

He cut you off.

With his mouth.

On yours.

No matter how many times you dreamed about this exact moment nothing could match the real thing. His lips were soft, his hand cupped your jaw to bring you closer to him. His body leaned in so he was flush against yours, you felt every curve and divot of him blend into yours. You grabbed at the waist of his shirt, begging for him not to leave his position of being on your mouth.

Instead he opened his mouth to deepen the kiss, the feather touch of his tongue on your lower lip sent your head into a spiral, the boy you had been obsessing and pining over the past few months was moving with your movements, you gasped into his mouth and he squeezed a hip with his hand and you in turn pressed your hips into his.

He pulled away and placed a kiss to your jaw, then neck.

“Was that the reaction you wanted?”

Your eyes stayed closed but you nodded, scared if you opened them the illusion would disappear.

“I kissed you with my heart and soul baby girl, can’t a guy get a response?”

You whimpered at the pet name.

Then a knock at the door, the curtain dropped. The other friends were here and it would go back to pretend this didn’t happen for a few hours. The front door was being opened from the outside, you had your head turned to the right to watch it open. Peter still had you pressed into the wall, he placed an arm out to hold the door shut.

“I’m not done yet.”

He leant in for another one, and another.

And another.

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

“I was beginning to think you forgot about me.”

You did promise Spider-Man an update, but it’s been a busy few months. Christmas was just around the corner and Peter and you have been busy. Between dates and seasonal activities you haven’t had a moment to track down the hero and catch him up to date.

First it was Halloween and you did get your couples costume. (and he helped you carve your pumpkin.)

Then it was Thanksgiving. (and he walked through central park with you.)

And recently you’ve both been busy with present shopping and baking. (and he gives you hot chocolate with extra, extra whipped cream.)

“I know, I’m sorry. I’ve been too busy being a girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?”

You squealed. “Yes! He totally set me up and I was all like, ‘How do you not know I like you?’ and BAM! He just started kissing me, I was seeing fucking stars.”

“Peter Parker finally smelled the bacon, huh?”

“Yeah. He’s really awesome. I know we were friends before but it’s gotten so much better now he’s my boyfriend, I don’t even know how to describe it. I think it’s because everything I feel for him is reciprocated times ten by him.”

“I think it’s because you love him.”

“Or because we’re mashing parts.”

You laughed at his reaction.

“Gross.” (Not gross. He fucking loves mashing parts.)

“But yeah, I think it’s mostly because we love each other.”

“I’m happy for you, I’m glad I can stop looking for smoke signals now.”

You grinned at the hero and had to fight back the urge for a hug.

“Thanks, if it makes you feel better if I knew who you were under the mask I’d buy you dinner.”

Sirens blaring broke the reunion.

“It’s alright. I have a feeling you’ll know soon.”

“Hm, sure. Have a goodnight, Spidey. I’ll see you around.”

“You too, Y/N.”

Then he swung off, it left a grin on your face.

Until.

‘How did he know my name?’

#peter parker blurb #peter parker x reader #peter parker oneshot #peter parker fic #peter parker #peter parker mcu #my writing

4K notes · View notes

eveningepiphany · 4 months

Text

something about the legs | h.s oneshot

summary: something about your best friends legs really does it for you, especially in skinny jeans…

warnings: besties with unexpected and very impulsive benefits, oral sex (mrec), lots and lots of talk about those mfing legs and thighs, dirty talk, h not expecting you to be like that until you are.

a/n: so it’s been a hot minute… hi again🤪 but something rlly just sent me spiralling with this pic of h’s fucking legs. look at them. anyways, enjoy me being a slut and channeling it into some fine literature, enjoy xoxo

———

Ovulation week is a curse. An absolute, utter curse.

Between the multitude of random fluctuating symptoms and skyrocketing hormones, you feel dreaded enough as it is. But the worst part, is every fucking month you become absolutely manic with need.

Some are increasingly better or worse than others, but this month is something off the charts.

There is no warrant for you to be this fucking horny at 9:32pm on a Thursday night. Yet here you are, squirming because you’re around someone that already riles you up enough as it is.

Harry is your best friend. Has been for years. Since the awkward starting phases of middle school. All braces paired with horrendous fashion choices. And into the ages of highschool throughout all the drama and predictable thematics. Into the present, where life throws you curveballs as you enter the world as young adults, and now that he’s in one direction. You can’t imagine going through all that with anyone else.

Actually, maybe it’s fit to mention you’re almost certain that this man never went through an awkward phase… despite the fact possibly everyone else on the planet did. Harry did not.

He was cute from the day he was born, it’s evident in the pictures, up until he hit puberty, then he became some ungodly mix of both cute and ridiculously hot.

It’s disgusting that someone can do both things at the same time. And also revolting that they can have no idea at all.

But tonight, he is all hot. Between the way he’s dressed, the way he’s walking, and the way he’s talking. It’s close to killing you where you’re sat.

Thighs clenched together like there’s a thousand dollar check between them, you sit on a outdoor couch at your family’s holiday house.

It’s just the two of you outside on the large decked patio. It’s a huge house by the lake that your parents and grandparents own, so you invited Harry to come stay for the week. Your family were thrilled you invited him, but have already turned in for an early night. Since they planned to be out on the lake for a day of water activities almost before the damn sun was even fully up.

Harry has a glass of alcohol in his hands— one that is completely dwarfed in his hold. It’s condensation forming small droplets over the ridges of his fingers.

He hasn’t realised the staring you’ve been doing, as he paces the deck talking about something to do with a recent song he’s been writing.

You’re sliding in small hums of agreement at the appropriate times without even hearing what he’s saying. Only the pleasing lilt in his voice that tickles your ears as it enters them.

He’s got those black skinny jeans on, the pair that cling to his hips for dear life. And not only are they fit to his hips, but they hug every single curve on his legs. The thick of his thighs all the way down to the muscle of his calf.

And if anything was the killer for you tonight, it was those.

You’re surprised you’re not drooling on yourself. Which is fucking disgusting, but fact. As there is an over-production of saliva in your mouth right now just looking at his legs.

He is so muscly there. The presumed strength of his thighs makes you actually pant, and you never thought legs did it for you like this. But my god right now, they certainly are.

“But I jus’ dunno Y/N,” he turns to you, causing you to snap your gaze from the curve of his ass which you were shamelessly just staring at, back to his face.

It doesn’t get better for you anywhere you look. The man was built and sculpted by a god. Every feature was painstaking to look at, and not be able to touch.

“What d’ya reckon would sound better?” He asks, nonchalantly, unaware you were just eyeing him up.

You feel some shame now, as you scramble to find an answer for the question you don’t even know the context for.

“Well, i think whatever you feel flows better. Yknow?” You swallow, praying to god it’s diluted enough of an answer that he’ll just take it without question.

He nods, and relief floods through you, “i s’pose you’re right.”

However that relief hardly lasts long, because he’s not as clueless as you’d presumed, “You’re pretty good at giving advice even when you’re only half listening.”

He saunters over from the span of deck he’d been pacing the last 10 minutes, sitting down next to you with a smug look on his face. You feel the cushions dip with his body weight, and you’re so delusioned that even a part of you twinges with desire at the understanding of his weight. The idea of him pressing it down on top of you during—

“What’s on ya mind, love, why are you s’faraway lookin’?” He asks, sipping at his drink with a quirk of his dark eyebrows.

“I—“ Christ. He’s manspreading a bit right now… thighs pushed apart, “I’m just tired. Been a big few days.”

His curly, and boyishly-messy hair is cascading over his forehead and casting a shadow of his green gaze, the same one that’s nailing you where you’re sat right now.

He doesn’t look very convinced. And he’s watching your eyes flicker around, looking guilty of a lie, presumably the words that just came from your mouth.

“You don’t have t’lie, dove.” He laughs, a soft songbird-like chuckle that somewhat eases your tenseness.

You feel so dirty for thinking about him like this. When he can’t tell you it’s okay to be imagining absolutely sinful things you’d do… or let be done when it comes to him. However, you are so hormonal right now, that you don’t have it in yourself to stop.

He was just simply the wrong person, in the wrong place, at coincidentally the right time in your hormonal cycle.

And you feel even worse because there’s years of history behind the two of you. And friends are not meant to think of each other like this, it makes things quickly complicated. And this is not a hallmark film.

“I know.” You sigh out, “it’s not you, H. I’m just… hormonal.”

His first thought was that you were on your period, a look of tender concern flitting across his face.

“Oh, is your period making you feel sick?”

You could laugh at the irony. You are infact neither of the things he thinks. Not bleeding, and not ill.

He has looked after you before when you’ve been in the trenches with your period. He is always so willing to get you anything when you’re not feeling well.

And you can tell by the look on his pretty face he’s about to ask you he can get you anything to help— pain relief, water, snacks or simply a hug.

A gentleman, as always.

But if he asks you if you need anything, you only have one answer and that’s him. You need him, and not in a platonic way. So you interject before he can ask,

“No, quiet the opposite.” You shake your head, pursing your lips.

“But it’s fine,” you amend curtly, “just girl stuff.”

The two of you get consumed by a momentary silence, he was waiting for more information, which you simply were not giving. After a few seconds, he sputters out a sudden laugh.

“You can tell me, if you want, idiot.” He laughs, nudging you with his knee. His very attractive leg being left pressed into yours. “Gross details and personal stuff never usually stop us.”

Your whole body is burning up, overwhelmed. He is so fucking hot, and caring. You want him filling up your goddamn throat.

“No, trust me. This is all left best untold and ignored. I can’t help it, so we’re just ignoring it.” Your tone is certain, and to this he nods. Able to tell that’s as much of an answer he’d be getting for now, so he begrudgingly accepts it.

“Fine, fine, you’re just so stiff. Need t’relax.” He slides his free hand behind your back to pull him into his side.

Tugging you the small distance between you two, your head comes naturally to rest in the crook of his neck. Nose inhaling the woodsy scent of his cologne, smelling like the refreshingly cool breeze on a muggy summer night.

His thumb strokes a delicate back and forth rhythm on the bare skin it’s found between the waistband of your jeans and the hem of your fitted top.

It’s killing you, because he’s so gentle with you. Such a sweetheart really, but you’re breaking out a sweat at the feeling of his fingertips against your skin. You need a cold shower.

You try not to let your eyes wander down to the legs in those fucking jeans.

“S’long as ya alright,” he murmurs into your hair, “is there anything you need from me? ‘Cause if I can do anything for ya, yknow I would.”

Your stomach drops, how are you even supposed to answer that. Your face heats with even more guilt.

Your internal voice drops in her two cents on the question— your cock, she confidently stated. That was what she wanted.

“No, nothing you can do that’s reasonable, H.” You say, too dangerously close to him dragging the truth out of your needy mouth for your liking.

He tilts his head down to look at the profile of your face, curiously prodding further, “How unreasonable are we talking?”

“Ridiculously and foolishly unreasonable.”

“Why?”

“Sh. Don’t make me tell you, because I don’t want to.” You state defiantly, rolling away from his hold, since now you’re talking about it— although vaguely— it’s just making it worse.

Focusing on it is making the need more intense, your eyes feasting unintentionally on his muscled body relaxing on the couch.

He’s got this smirk on his lips. One you want to kiss off.

“You’re blushing, is it that bad?”

You scoff, “Yes, that bad.”

“Okay… so, it’s not your period, and it’s technically fixable— since you just said it’s unreasonable for me to do it… not impossible.” he’s wondering out loud, watching your every move.

Which now you’ve stood up and started pacing, trying to distract yourself from the pulsing between your legs and the begging voice in your head that wants to touch him so badly.

“Stop being nosey! God!” You frustratedly whine out, and he laughs at your sudden anger at not only him, but at seemingly just being a woman.

“Just trying to help, baby, don’t get mad.” He teases, and between his suddenly mocking mouth, your resolve snaps like a fickle twig.

“Fuck, I’m horny. Harry!” You groan out, covering your eyes over with the palms of your hands so you don’t have to see his likely disgusted face at your confession.

But now that you’ve started you can’t stop, “You just… your fucking legs and thighs are just… I don’t know! I’m ovulating and you’re just really sexy, it’s frustrating and I really want to die right now, H.”

In reality, his brows had just shot up with surprise, lips parting in shock. He could not believe you just admitted that.

He glanced down to his legs. He’s just in jeans, it wasn’t like he felt as though they were anything to write home about.

It shocked him that you even… well obviously the two of you are best friends. But it was rare that topics of sex came up, so all the sudden the conversation being about that and also about you is making his head spin.

Yet something comes over him, he doesn’t think as he speaks his next words, “Tha’s not as unreasonable as you made it out to be.”

You snap your hands down from your face, eyes locking onto his— he doesn’t look repulsed or uncomfortable as you had originally expected. He looks inexplicably open to the topic.

“I’ve got somethin’ you need, somethin’ that can fix it, love.” He states, shrugging his shoulders, his voice going almost sultry, “An’ yknow what I said, hm?”

At your silence— because you’re too stunned to even speak— he finishes the sentence for you, “Said I’d do anything for ya.”

Oh, is this quickly snowballing.

“Harry!” You shake your head, it feeling so wrong to be talking about this with him.

He abandons his drink on the small side table beside the couch, standing up and breaching the distance between you.

“Jus’ say the words, and then im yours.” He lowly whispers, and this is about to make you pass out. You’re clenching around nothing in your underwear, and the proposition is so tempting.

“We shouldn’t though. It’s not your responsibility to… satiate me.” You gulp out, nervous, yet body flaming with heat.

“Y/N, best friends help each other out… tha’s all it has to be, jus’ me making y’feel better.” he says, hand coming to run down your upper arm. And the second you started talking about this, his cock has been twitching where it’s confined his jeans.

“You can make all the decisions, all the calls, m’kay?” The statement was reassuring.

You lean into his touch, caving without anymore of a fight, “Okay… alright. Just… tell me if you change your mind. Please?”

His lips curl into a satisfied smile, feeling his hand get taken by yours. It’s much to risky to be fucking around with your best friend on the families patio, so you lead him down the steps into the dark, open backyard.

They have a pier, that’s lit with small solar lights, and that’s the first place you can that is reasonable enough to go. You tug him along the wooden decking it has, feet drumming against it.

Against a tree was too dark, and you at least want to see his cock if you’re getting the opportunity to touch it.

“On the pier, hey? That desperate.” He teases, and you push him with your free hand into one of its big wooden pillars.

“I want your cock down my throat, how’s that for desperate?” You scoff, pulling a laugh of pure shock from his own lips.

“I’m serious, H.” You look at him, stone cold expression. You are so riled up and ready to touch him that you need immediate confirmation this is something he wants.

“Go on, said you wanted it.”

Before you sink down onto your knees, you question him further, “you want this, though?”

A smile spreads over his mouth, “baby, you’re gonna be able to feel just how much i want this when you get down there. I was bricked the second you said you were horny.”

That was all you needed, dropping to the ground on your knees— now with his consent, your filter completely disappeared.

“Fuck me, Harry. I don’t think you understand how sexy you are.” Hands immediately coming up to squeeze the muscle of his thighs.

He hums a noise as he looks down at you on your knees, “Never thought legs would do it for you, but here we are.”

“Only thing i could think about is digging my nails into your thighs…”

You drag your hands back up to where the buckle of his belt laid, grabbing at it and undoing it. Slipping it out of the loops in his pants in a swift movement.

Leaning forward, you lift the hem of his black shirt, pressing your mouth against his happy trail.

You’re a slut for that little teasing patch of hair that dips below his low jeans. It causes you to whine out, a wordless sound of appreciation as you peck kisses over it.

The button and zipper quickly got undone by your nimble hands, and you finally brush over the prominent bulge that’s perked up in his boxers.

A realisation that you’re about to see your best friends dick for the first time kind of hits you, causing you to roll your lips between your teeth.

His suddenly strained voice comes from above you, “fuck, Y/N, don’t get shy with me. Y’can take me out.”

He’s almost ready to beg, even though this is all technically for you. But he didn’t anticipate how sensitive he would be when it’s a special girls hands running over his bulge.

However that’s exactly how it is, he’s already biting his lip as you cup him through his briefs, head tilted backwards with a sudden shared need.

You draw his jeans further down, “patience, im just enjoying you, pretty boy.”

The doting nickname earns a small groan from his lips, paired with the fact you’re now mouthing at his inner thighs. They’re warm and firm, dusted with dark hairs. You suck the most inner and upper part of his thigh into your mouth, causing him to grunt out.

You busy yourself with that particular part of his skin for a moment, rubbing the backs of your hands around the flesh of his ass. Still unfortunately covered by his briefs.

“So fuckin’ good to me, H.” You muttered into his soft skin, dragging your nose over to kiss the fabric covering his hard cock.

It makes him twitch, “letting me do this… and touch you where I want.”

You sound so out of it, replacing your mouth with your hand momentarily so you can go back to kissing his thighs, teeth impulsively barring over them. He shudders at the sensation.

After a bit more teasing, you finally start to pull the waistband of his black calvins down.

When his cock is fully out, you moan. You straight out moan at the sight of it. It’s glistening tip is a flushed red, beading out a sliver of precum for you, and it was safe to say he’s well equipped.

The two of you curse in sync as you hold him in your hand, feeling the weight as you stroke gently.

“Christ, tha’s good.” He curses out, hips stuttering forward slightly. You take a moment to look up at his face.

His cheeks have gone a slight red, and his lips are shiny from his teeth and tongue constantly running over them. Not to mention the way his lidded eyes are gazing down at you.

You hold eye contact as you lean in to lick over his tip in one solid stroke, watching his face twist in pleasure.

It makes your core drip. Seeing his cock, tasting it, watching him react to your touch. It fuels you to take his tip into your mouth, giving a gentle suck.

Your fingers take refugee digging into his thighs, and you are already loosing you mind with him between your lips. Somehow, you’re almost convinced you could come just from sucking on his dick.

Your self control is completely shattered now, you draw back and spit over his length, listening to him groan out as he watches the action.

“Drool on me, darling.” He says, the gentle demand makes you eager to impress him. You liked the idea of him telling you what to do… maybe even forcing you.

Fuck, you are sick and twisted, you scoffed internally at your self. Yet proceeding to gather your saliva and let it dribble down onto him.

“Thank you, thank you…” you murmur against him, and he twitches at your still airy voice. He would kill to know just how wet you were between your legs.

It was such a sight for you though, seeing him start to get slicked up with your own spit. Your mouth reconnected with him, sliding further down, hand coming up to massage his balls.

You’re whining around him now, starting to move in a sort of rhythm over his cock. You can’t help it, you were becoming frantic at him filling your throat.

The vibration of your mouth sends his hand flying into your hair, drawing a cuss from his lips, “fuck, Y/N…”

You get his cock as far as you can into your mouth without gagging— you’ll leave that for a little later— stroking the remainder. There’s something about the way he takes up the space between your lips, the feeling of his thick cock atop your tongue.

You glance up at him, fingertips teasing the inner parts of his thigh. Just as you look up, you give a harsh suck, hollowing out your mouth and lathing your tongue on the underside of him. Feeling the vein that runs along him.

His head almost bangs back against the wooden beam he’s leaning on, you feel the slight stutter of his hips.

A moan reverberated around you, filling your ears pleasingly. You draw back for a breathe, “you taste so good.”

His hand curls in your hair, panting out, “You’re such a needy girl…”

“Like that?” He asks at the whimper that come from you, “like being told that I see how desperate y’becoming?”

You nod immediately, “please…”

At your way of asking for more dirty talk he smiles, “becoming my little slut? Warming my cock with your mouth just because you’re so horny for it.”

When you don’t reply with words, and only a senseless moan, he taps your mouth with his fingers gently.

“Show me, baby.”

You part your lips almost instantly at his command, jutting your wet tongue out, ready to take him back into your mouth.

He guides his cock back between your lips, and that’s about as far as he gets before you have to take over from him again. All he can register is how hot and warm you’re mouth is as it wraps around him again.

You start to bob your head, taking him all the way down your throat with a slight gag. You’re whining without warrant now, all over his spit slicked cock.

It’s paired with his own moans of pleasure and words of praise as you suddenly draw back, flicking over his wet tip with your tongue, teasing it and making him grunt.

Your soul existence quickly slips to being just about his cock and hearing his noises. Being able to look up at him and see the sweat beginning to sheen over his forehead, and the mess of his soft hair.

His eyes are squeezed shut, and he has to forcibly open them every so often to see you. A reality check for himself that down on her knees, is his best friend. Drooling all over his prick with a insatiable need.

“Good fuckin’ girl.” He states as you take him all the way down your throat again.

“Taking me like the slut y’are. Might ‘ave to fuck you like one later, how’s that sound?” His mouth has gone loose now, brain muddled with only thoughts of you in it.

You suck and nod over him, brain rioting with a yes at his question.

“Probably so wet, so warm.” He mutters in half thought, and the idea of him even thinking of you like that makes you clench multiple times in your panties.

You roll you hips against nothing which he is grateful he caught with his half lidded eyes. The look of sheer desperation that crossed your face.

Moving faster, you starting taking his cock at a pace that immediately made his hand coil tighter in your hair.

“Fuck… im gon’ come faster than I’d like if y’keep— shit— doing that.” He moans, and you draw back quickly.

“Need to taste it… please, Harry.” You beg, forcing your throat back down around him once you’d got a breathe.

You gagged around him in full this time, earning his hips bucking against you.

Strings of dirty talk and cusses were flying out of his mouth, like a litany being repeated over and over. He kept praising you.

“That warm mouth…fuck… fucking me so good baby. Want to keep y’down there for hours, like m’personal little cockslut.”

Your nails dug into the backs of his meaty thighs, making you moan around him. Spit was covering your chin as you moved hastily over his hard prick.

“Like that idea?” He asked gruffly, “making you drool all over me like this until I’m empty, an’ y’ve come in y’panties to the point you’re dripping.”

You feverishly bob your head, sucking hard against him. If his bucking hips and loose mouth are any indicator, he’s getting close.

A few more minutes of your mouth, and he’s swearing, “im gonna come, dove— fuck— where do y’want it?”

Trying not to stop to long, looking up at his flushed face and blown out eyes, you lowly plead, “on my tongue, please…”

“Good slut, good fucking girl!” He slurs out.

You draw back to his tip, eager to taste him properly. You spit messily over his pulsing red head, kitten licking over it while your hand fucks the rest of his length at a fast pace.

It has him a wreck, and before he know it, he’s moaning out so loud he’s almost scared he woke someone in the house up.

“Fuck! I’m going to come, baby, im gonna come!”

You watch in completely infatuation as his eyes screw shut and his mouth drops into a gasp for air. You feel his hips stutter, and his cock pulse and twitch as it releases onto your awaiting tongue.

He tastes so good. You feel ashamed for even liking it that much, but as it spurts out his tip and drips onto your lower lip, your insane over it.

You rub it in with his tip, coating it over your tongue, and he pants as he opens his eyes to watch you.

It’s a sight etched into his mind forevermore. The fact his come is painted all over your tongue right now.

“Swallow it, pretty girl, let me watch.” He exhaustedly instructs you, voice raspy and deep in his post orgasm haze.

You do as told, and realising some has spilt even onto the corner of his thigh now that you’ve let him go.

Not letting it go to waste, you clean it off with a lick of your still eager mouth. Gently kissing over the spot as well.

“Taste so good, H.” You whisper against him, moving over to kiss his tip a final time.

“Thank you, again. For letting me do that…” You almost feel more satisfied than you would have if you had gotten to come as well.

“Made me feel amazing, baby.”

Or so you thought, because once he raised the point again… “If you want, since I can only imagine how desperate your little cunt is, I can return the favour somehow?”

And it was impossible to say no when he looked like that, boxers still half down his beautiful legs and face flushed that sexy shade of red.

You were in for a night, that was for sure. So much for an early morning.

———

#harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfiction #fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles oneshot #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #he’s so #fuck me I need him so bad #anyways #hope you enjoyed #ily #last oneshot of 2023

932 notes · View notes

slut4thebroken · 10 months

Text

Exposure Therapy pt. 9

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jonathan Crane × reader

Summary | Dr. Crane finally gives you a reward.

Warnings | 18+, sexual content, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, breeding, kissing, grinding, face sitting, 69, finger fucking, praise, degradation, consensual sex, cockwarming?, this is as close as he’ll get in this fic to being submissive lmao.

Words | 3k

Notes | Kinky smut will be coming up in either chapter 10 or 11😏

Ao3 link | <3

Fic Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Part 8

When you woke up, it took a moment for you to remember where you were, but the second your gaze settled on the couch you were laying on, your stomach dropped. You had cried to him— cried on him. The thought made you want to crawl into a hole from embarrassment, but you tried to ignore it.

You could see now that he dressed you while you slept in the clothes you brought from his place and when you looked over at him, he was fully dressed in a suit, bent over the desk, completely focused on something. It didn’t seem like you moved enough to alert him that you were awake so you stayed still, trying to come up with something to say. Should you apologize? Pretend nothing happened? Make a self deprecating joke about it?

“I know you’re awake. I can practically hear you overthinking from here.” He said suddenly.

“Sorry…” You muttered, deciding to sit up on the couch now. Picking at your cuticles, you watched him anxiously, waiting. Should you go to him? He hasn’t looked up from his work yet… Maybe he’s just waiting for you to walk over?

“Um, I- I’m sorry… for my behavior.” You forced the words out. “I don’t know what came over me.” He turned to face you, but after staring at you for a moment, decided to walk over. You stiffened as he approached you— were you going to be punished? Yelled at again? He sat down next to you, but still gave you enough space so you didn’t feel uncomfortable.

“There is no need to apologize. I pushed you to that state so I cannot fault you for any of your actions.” He said, tone neutral.

“I still shouldn’t have,”

“No. You are allowed to have emotions.”

“I know, but- I made you uncomfortable.” You argued weakly.

“I am the only reason you acted like that in the first place. There is no need to apologize.”

“Okay… So things are fine?” You asked tentatively, scared of his answer.

“Do not expect to do it again under any other circumstance.” His tone wasn’t mean, but rather he was just setting a boundary. You couldn’t help but notice that he said “under any other circumstance,” not just “any circumstance.”

“That didn’t answer my question.” You said with a small smile that he almost returned.

“Yes.”

“And you’re not mad that I made you change what you were going to do again?”

“You hardly made me do anything.” He scoffed.

“Okay… Good.” You said awkwardly, kind of feeling like you disappointed him by not being able to take the punishment. You also still felt bad for making him uncomfortable— for crying on him and laying on his chest. Your behavior made him call you a fucking pet name for christs sake.

“Y-you… You called me-“

“Anything I said was to soothe you.” He said, suddenly colder than before.

“So you weren’t really proud of me?” You asked quietly, making him sigh.

“You took the punishment adequately.”

“Oh.” You replied meekly, looking at your lap. You didn’t like the way he revoked his praise and affection so easily. He let out another quiet sigh, but you didn’t look up at him yet.

“Your performance was… satisfactory.” It sounded like he had to force the words out. “Anything I said at the time was genuine, but do not expect to hear it again.” You looked up at him, but he couldn’t meet your gaze.

“Thanks.” You muttered, giving him a small smile when he finally looked at you. “I liked when you called me that.” You said tentatively, carefully studying his reaction.

“Do not get used to such affections.”

“Okay… But if you ever decide you want to keep calling me that, I’m okay with it.” You shrugged and he narrowed his eyes.

“I am not going to call you some silly name.” It felt like you were being reprimanded for requesting something childish.

“I like the silly name. You don’t call anyone else by a silly name, do you?”

“Of course not.” He scoffed, almost offended.

“Good. Just me then.”

“No, not you either.” He sighed, getting frustrated with your lack of acceptance with his answer. You pouted, giving him puppy dog eyes, hoping you didn’t look like a fool. “Stop that.” It seemed like the face was working though.

“Please?”

“No.”

“Just once?”

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“I will after you say it.” You said teasingly, giving him a small smile.

“You are truly insufferable…” You waited eagerly, practically vibrating in anticipation. “Little one.” He muttered, looking away from you when your smile turned into a full blown grin.

“It doesn’t count if I can’t hear you.”

“You’re pushing your luck.” He warned, but it almost seemed like he was teasing you back rather than giving you a genuine warning.

“Please?” You pouted again, deciding to crawl onto his lap and straddle his legs, placing your arms on his shoulders as his hands settled on your hips.

“Remind me why I brought you here?” He asked, annoyed. But not in a genuine way, in an almost playful way.

“Because I make you come and I’m stupid enough to go to your place in broad daylight for you.”

“I suppose that’s true. I guess I do have a brave, eager pet. Wouldn’t you agree?” You nodded, eyes wide and breath caught in your throat from the new name. “Lost for words, little one?” He asked, tilting his head and rubbing his hands up and down your thighs. You let out a needy whine as you fisted his suit jacket and rolled your hips forward against his crotch.

“Can- can I call you something too?” You asked, already breathless from the small amount of pleasure.

“What did you have in mind?”

“Your name?”

“Go ahead— try it out.” It took you a moment to register that he didn’t deny you like you thought he would.

“Jonathan.” You whispered.

“It doesn’t count if I can’t hear you.” He said teasingly.

“Jonathan.” You whined, louder this time.

“What do you think?” You hummed in thought. Something about the name just felt a little off. Maybe it was because it’s his full name rather than a nickname.

“Jon.” You muttered to yourself. “Does anyone call you Jon?”

“Everyone refers to me as Dr. Crane or Scarecrow.”

“Do you like “Jon?’”

“It is tolerable.”

“Oh…” You said, visibly deflating in his lap. “I don’t have to if you don’t like it.”

“I do not tolerate many things— that was a positive statement.” He quickly corrected himself, still making sure to keep his tone neutral though.

“Oh. Do you tolerate me?” You asked, perking up a little again.

“That is a foolish question that you already know the answer to.”

“I know… I just like hearing it.” He sighed and for a moment you thought he wasn’t going to respond.

“Yes, I tolerate you, little one.” A blush creeped up on your cheeks as you gave him a shy smile. “Satisfied?” You nodded, biting your lip to keep from grinning like an idiot.

“Can I come today?” His brows shot up and you swore he was about to laugh.

“Someone’s getting bold.”

“You didn’t let me last time.” You frowned. He hummed in thought and continued dragging his hands up and down your thighs, teasing you.

“I suppose since you did such a good job taking your punishment, as well as staying quiet when we were in my office, you’re long overdue for a treat. Don’t you think?”

“Yes please.” You said through a breath as you nodded in agreement. Snaking his hands behind you, he grabbed your ass to roughly push your hips against him, starting a slow, steady rhythm of grinding.

“Whatever you want. Go ahead.” He said, making you falter as you stared at him in confusion.

“What?”

“Take whatever you want.” He explained, still leaving you dumbstruck.

“Anything?”

“Within reason.” He said teasingly. Flattening your palms on his chest, you slid them down before slowly dragging them back up, thinking.

“Can I kiss you?”

“There’s no need to ask. Take whatever you need.” He said softly, eyes fluttering down to your lips. Grabbing his tie, you gently pulled him forward into a kiss. His hands moved back to your hips, not gripping anymore, just holding you as you continued grinding against his crotch. You let out a low moan from the friction and brought your free hand up to pull his hair, making him groan in response. When you eventually grew too impatient, you whined and pulled back.

“Please.”

“If you want something, just take it, little one.” He whispered, making you whine even louder. Suddenly getting up, he eyed you curiously as you took off your pants and underwear, then hesitantly laid him down on the couch. You moved slowly, giving him a chance to protest or change his mind. When he didn’t, you slowly kneeled over his chest, watching his eyes darken as he focused on your cunt. You waited again for him to tell you to get off, but he never did. So you shuffled forward even more, then tentatively lowered yourself onto his mouth. He dove in eagerly, lapping up your arousal and circling your clit with his tongue to tease you.

When you suddenly lifted off of him, he let out a grunt of displeasure, making your cheeks heat up. But you wanted to do something more than just this. You took off your shirt then moved to the floor and started working on taking off his belt, asking for assistance on the upper half of his body. Once he was as bare as you— which you still weren’t used to yet— you climbed over him again, this time facing the other direction. He cursed under his breath as you laid down, your face only inches from his cock.

The second you lowered yourself onto his mouth, his hands wrapped around your thighs, not letting you move away again. You whimpered at the sudden intense pleasure and brought your hand up to start stroking his length, teasing him. When his hips bucked up, you placed your forearm over his upper thigh and put some of your weight on it to hold him down. He growled against your cunt and dug his nails into your thighs, making your gasp, then chuckle as you leaned down to suck the tip in your mouth.

You liked having this power over him. Deciding how much you wanted to tease him- torture him… it was addictive. You wanted to make him beg and whine and moan, so desperate for you that he loses all control.

Hollowing your cheeks, you moved farther down his length, only pulling back up when the tip met the back of your mouth. The movements of his mouth grew sloppy, unable to focus with the stimulation on his cock, but it didn’t matter. You were practically grinding against his face anyway.

When he pushed a finger in your drooling hole, you let out a muffled moan, not expecting it. In retaliation, you moved your hand to cup his balls, gently playing with them until his hips bucked and he moaned against your heat. Another finger was pushing inside, stretching you open and curling against your walls to emit even more arousal.

To reward him, you decided to take him all the way down for as long as you could force yourself to stay there. He let out a choked moan at the tightness of your throat and the hand holding your thigh squeezed again. You did your best to breathe through your nose and relax, but after another few seconds, you couldn’t control your gag reflex anymore and had to pull off of him.

“Baby— I’m not gonna last if you keep doing that.” He muttered against your clit and your hips jerked at his words.

“Neither am I if you keep calling me that.” You whined. When you lifted yourself off of him again, he let out a grunt of disapproval, trying to grab your hips to pull you back. “Fuck me.” You said through a breath, making him instantly release your hips to sit up. When you got a good look at his face, you almost moaned at the sight. His lips and chin were slick with your arousal and his spit, and his glasses were fogged up enough that he had to take them off and set them on the floor to continue.

“How do you want it?” You bit your lip in thought.

“Dealer's choice.” You finally replied and it seemed like he was about to protest, but decided against it. Grabbing a cushion from the back of the couch, he placed it down, then maneuvered you so your hips were over it as you laid on your stomach. He leaned over you, breath fanning against your neck as he lined up, then placed a soft kiss behind your ear.

“Ready?” He whispered.

“Please.” You didn’t have to tell him again before he was breaching your hole, making you whimper at how fucking full you felt in this position with your legs together. “Jesus-“ You choked out as he stilled inside you, buried as far as your cunt would allow.

“Fuck me, Jon.” You said breathlessly and he cursed under his breath, but obeyed. He slid out slowly, still giving you a chance to adjust, then pushed back in just as slow.

“God- You feel so good.” He moaned, forehead resting on your shoulder blade. “So fucking warm and wet, and a perfect fit for my cock, aren’t you?” You nodded as you scrambled for purchase when his thrusts sped up. “Like my own custom made fuck doll, huh, baby?”

“Oh god yes.” You sobbed out, already feeling close from hearing that pet name again. He let out a low chuckle when he felt your walls fluttering desperately around his length.

“Close already? Why’s that?” You couldn’t get a response out through your moans, let alone think of one in the first place. “Is it cause you like it when I pin you down like this? Force my cock in your tight little cunt and fuck you like a cheap whore. Is that it?” You let out another sob that turned into a vulgar moan when he suddenly grabbed your hair and yanked your head back. With his lips brushing your ear, he whispered, “Or maybe it’s when I call you baby. Is that what’s getting you so hot and bothered?” You did your best to nod with his grip in your hair, but he wasn’t satisfied.

“C’mon, use your big girl words. I know you can.” He cooed, making your cunt pulse around him.

“Jon,” You whined, squeezing your eyes shut as your mouth opened in a silent moan. “Please make me come- I’m so close, Jon, I need it.” You whimpered. He suddenly pulled out, making you whine loudly. He ignored your protest though and flipped you over, hooking your legs over his hips as he leaned back down and slid inside again.

“Keep your eyes on me when you come, do you understand?” You nodded eagerly and he continued pushing in and out, getting deep enough that you knew you’d be able to see his cock bulging your stomach.

“God- you look so pretty like this.” He whispered, eyes rapidly trailing over your face. You let out a low whine, feeling your face heat up.

“Say my name.” The request was so quiet that you thought you misheard him. “Say it.” Not a request— a plea.

“Jon,” You whispered, moving your hands to pull on his hair as your eyes fluttered to his lips. “Please kiss me.” He obeyed eagerly and you moaned into his mouth from the intensity of it— of everything really. A hand on your clit made you jolt with a surprised sound that he swallowed eagerly.

“Oh god- Please can I come?” You whined, barely able to get the words out since he wouldn’t break the kiss to let you speak. “Please, Jon.” He pulled back, eyes squeezed shut as he panted, never stopping the movement of his hips or fingers.

“Go ahead, baby,” He whispered as his eyes fluttered open to look at you. “Come for me- but remember what I said.” What you would’ve originally thought was a warning, was actually just a reminder— the closest he would ever get to saying please.

Your orgasm crashed over you suddenly and you did your best to keep your eyes open through the pleasure. He stared down at you with furrowed brows and slightly parted lips, letting some moans escape.

“Please come.” You gasped out, orgasm just barely starting to fade. “Please, Jon.” His lips parted even wider and then he was squeezing his eyes shut, still trying to keep them open though. His hips stilled completely inside you, staying deep to make sure you took every last drop of his come.

When his body finally relaxed and he rested his forehead on your chest, you played with his hair. Both of you were still panting, a little sweaty, and definitely come drunk, but he didn’t seem to care at all. He swiftly turned you both over as he moved the couch cushion back, his cock never leaving you. You let yourself lay down on his body, your cheek on his chest, listening to his heartbeat, and one of his hands came up to pet your hair, the other rubbing up and down your back lightly.

There was a nagging thought, deep in the back of your brain, that you were trying to ignore, but it was growing louder the longer you laid there. This felt too good to be true. Like you’re dreaming and going to wake up back in your cell again.

“Jon?” You asked quietly.

“Hm?”

You didn’t want this to be a dream. You wanted him to hold you again and again, let you fall asleep in his arms, have normal conversations about everything and nothing. But most of all, you wanted him to feel the same way. To long for you so hard that his chest aches at the thought of losing you, the way yours does. You wanted him to—

“I-“ You had to stop yourself from saying the thought that just popped into your head because you were scared of how he’d react to such a deep confession. “I just…”

“I know.” He whispered, heart beating faster and harder in his chest. “Me too.”

Part 10

#jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane #scarecrow x reader smut #scarecrow #exposure therapy #smut

858 notes · View notes

mochie85 · 8 months

Text

Truth Or Dare

These Wicked Games Collection Masterlist | Complete Masterlist

Summary: The first contact you and Loki had made in weeks, since the falling out that fateful morning. A game of Truth or Dare makes you both confront your feelings. Suggested Song: "Do I Wanna Know" by The Arctic Monkeys Word Count: 2.9K Pairing: Loki x Female Reader Warnings: Smut adjacent/Mature, a game of truth or dare, a kiss between Reader and Steve Rogers. 😏

Pent-up days bled into lonely nights. You retreated into your room, save for mission briefings and assignments that Fury would send you too.

Your interactions with Loki had been civil. Not a word was spoken between you two that didn’t involve other people or the task at hand. And when you found yourself in each other’s company, alone, you would just leave the room.

What you didn’t see were the glances and the stares in your direction. Not Loki’s, but the team’s.

“They must’ve fucked,” Bucky whispered.

“Absolutely, they did,” Natasha confirmed.

“How do you know?” Steve asked. “You can’t know that.” The three of them were watching through the glass wall of the conference room. You were showing the new recruit, Wanda, around the common areas and Loki was watching you through side glances and narrowed eyes.

“Do you remember how he acted during poker night?” Bucky asked.

“Ya, he was a real piece of work. I thought we were gonna have to call HR or something the way he was coming on to her,” Steve spurned.

“Ya, and now…that stopped. He got over his infatuation.” Bucky observed.

“Or he wasn’t enough to satisfy her.” Natasha counteroffered. Both men looked at her quizzically. “I mean come on. Not once had she looked in his direction. She’s over him. But he hasn’t been able to keep his eyes off her!” Natasha said proudly of you. Neither Steve nor Bucky could argue with her assessment.

You had just walked into your room when a loud knock came on your door. “Come in” you yelled across your apartment.

“Hey,” Nat said, walking in and sitting on your duvet. She eyed you up and down looking at your blouse and pencil skirt. “Did you just have a meeting?”

“Ya, with Fury.” You said, mid unbutton.

“Don’t get undressed yet. The rest of the team is on a mission again tonight. So, we thought we’d have a little movie night to welcome Wanda.”

“Oh, that’s nice. I think she would love that. I’m down,” you said excitedly.

“Great! Same crew as poker night.” Nat said getting up to leave.

“On second thought…”

“What?! What is it?” Nat asked running through a list of possible scenarios and conclusions in her head. “Oh my God, is it because of Laufeyson?”

“WHAT?! No! Why would you say that? Pfft…of course not!” You laughed. “Laufeyson? Why would I care? I don’t- I don’t care,” you prattled.

“You guys slept together, didn’t you?” She smirked, wanting confirmation of her earlier theory. You stayed quiet. Just staring at her, not knowing how to answer her question. It wasn’t like you were ashamed of it. It was just that it ended on a very sour note. “Your face says it all. Tell me everything!”

You sat there, telling her about the amazing night you had weeks ago. How you brazenly went to his room that night of the poker game and had your own game. But then you also told her about the following morning and how neither of you have really talked about it since.

“You like him, don’t you?” she asked with a Cheshire grin. “You really like him!” You groaned and flopped yourself on the bed, hiding underneath your pillows. “I honestly don’t see the problem. The man was packed! And if you’ve managed to ride it and leave it. More power to you.”

“Natasha!”

“What?! I remember the poker game. I remember him stripping!” she laughed as you rolled your eyes.

“How could I forget? He made a show about it in front of me when he could’ve easily just magicked his clothes off!”

“Look. Just come. Prove to him that you don’t care what he said to you. That it was a game for you too and nothing more. Right?”

“Right…” you agreed hesitantly.

You followed Nat down the hallway, praying to any powers-that-be that Loki wouldn’t show up. Wanda bound up to the two of you and she blocked your view of the common area. She was very excited about the movie, thanking Steve for letting her choose it. When she moved to sit, was when your eyes landed on the recliner across from you. Decked out in a fitted white shirt and loose black denim, sat Loki, with his arms crossed and legs open as if in invitation.

You sat on the couch to the other side of him, facing the other direction, pretending to be interested in the projector Bucky was trying to work out. Bucky smacked it a few times till the light flickered momentarily and then went black again.

“Why is this not working?!” Bucky raised his arm to hit it again before you and Vision stopped him.

“You know, I think we should play a little game to take our mind off things while those two try to fix the monitor,” suggested Natasha. “A little game of Truth or Dare, perhaps?” The game got your attention and you looked directly at the redhead, affixing your death stare to her pouty lips.

What are you up to? You mouthed to her. She ignored you completely and turned around. “Ooh, can I go first? I love this game!” Wanda asked bouncing excitedly. “I’ll start with Steve!”

“Awe why do you have to start with me?” He asked petulantly.

“Cuz you’re our fearless leader. So lead!” Natasha pushed. Steve only rolled his eyes.

“Truth or dare?” Wanda asked.

Steve lowered his head down in defeat, smiling, trying to be a good sport. “Dare,” he said to the resounding oohs and aahs from the group.

“I dare you to demonstrate the best kiss you’ve ever had.” Wanda smiled innocently at the heckles and jabs thrown in Steve’s direction. Although, you got the feeling that she was hiding more than she was letting on.

“What? Like in the air?” Steve proceeds to pucker his lips and kiss an imaginary person in front of him.

“No! OK, that’s… kind of gross!” Everyone laughed.

“How ‘bout on her!” Nat interrupted, pointing to you as she sat back and smiled, watching the whole thing play out.

Heat ran down your back as you looked at Steve. He gave you a boyish, heartwarming smile that almost took your breath away. You watched as he got up and made his way over to you. Did everything just go in slow motion? He lifted your chin to face him. “May I?” he asked so sweetly, and you nodded in response. With bright blue eyes shut, he leaned in and kissed you.

It was soft at first. He gently sucked on your upper lip and splayed his hands open, cupping your cheek. You had missed this. The closeness. The intimacy.

You missed him!

You started thinking about Loki and the few erotically charged moments you spent with him. You moaned at Steve’s touch, imagining it was Loki you were kissing. Steve took that as a sign to tilt his head and his tongue dove in further. It slid across yours, sending a tingling sensation down to your core.

Natasha watched Loki. As Loki watched you. The scowl on his face getting deeper and deeper as you clung to Steve tighter and tighter. Steve pulled away slowly, as he breathed out. You didn’t realize you were holding tight to his lapels, on your tippy toes, keeping him close to you.

“Ok. My turn!” Steve smiled and turned around abruptly as if he hadn’t given you one memorable kiss. You stood there stunned into place, slowly turning to face away from Loki. Steve looked at Natasha to exact his revenge. “Natasha. Truth or dare?”

“Truth.” She answered confidently.

“Have you ever fantasized about anyone in this room, intimately?”

“Yes.” She answered and Bucky’s ears picked up, looking at the deadly assassin through his side eyes.

“Who?!” Steve asked aloud.

“Fixed!” Bucky yelled as the monitor came to life.

“One more before the movie starts.” Nat turned to you and asked you with wild eyes and a mischievous grin. “Truth or dare?”

You took a deep breath and sighed, “Dare.” Nat’s grin got even wider as she walked up to you and whispered her dare in your ear.

“Oh come on! We all want to hear it!” Wanda said. Your eyes turned wide and the expression on your face dropped when Natasha pulled away.

“Go on. You have to do it! You chose dare.” She goaded you. You narrowed your eyes at her as you started making your way over to Loki on his lone recliner. His arms were still folded, and his legs were still open.

The confusion on his face was telling. It got even more concerned when you turned around and sat directly on his lap. Loki held his arms in the air, unsure of what to do or where to put them. “Excuse me?!” he finally said.

The room looked at both of you, chuckling and awe-faced. Nat looked like she had won a match that you were unwittingly a player in.

“Just go with it, okay?” you whispered to Loki.

“Go with what? Why are you sitting on my lap?” Loki bellowed.

“Shh! The movie is starting,” Natasha scolded the both of you, turning around with a self-satisfying grin. The audacity! The fucking nerve of this woman! You were going to pay her back somehow. You didn’t know where or how, but one day! Best friend be damned! Maybe you’ll reveal who she’s been having fantasies about. Maybe you’ll hide all her guns. Yeah! And her stun bracers too!

Loki placed his hands on the armrest. He was euphoric at the turn of events. But highly confused as to what the dare was to make you sit on his lap. How long will he have? Are you going to sit here for the entire movie? Can he touch you? Norns how he longed to touch you! It’s been weeks since that awful morning. And every time he tried to talk to you, you would leave the room. Or there were more pressing matters at hand.

His pride and confidence left him the morning you left his bed. He thought he made it very clear how in love with you he was. But you either didn’t believe him or you were just playing a game with him.

He didn’t know how to approach you anymore. But one thing is for certain, if you keep moving the way you were, he would have to excuse himself immediately.

“Stop moving!” he ordered.

“I can’t help it. You’re not exactly comfortable to sit on.” You whisper-growled back at him.

“That’s not what it looked like a couple weeks back. I seem to recall you enjoyed sitting on my lap.” Without warning, Loki grabbed your waist and pulled you closer to his frame. Seating you right in between his open legs. Right on the cushion of the seat. “Better?” he asked.

“Yes,” you said begrudgingly. “Thank you.”

“Always a pleasure, darling.”

The first half hour of the movie was hard to follow. Every breath Loki would take, any small movement he would make, you felt it right behind you. You sat perfectly stiff. Your back, like a ruler, not wanting to give in to his warmth and comfort.

As the movie progressed, you tried to make the best of your awkward situation. The team had settled and forgotten about the two of you in the back of the room. You yourself got lost in the dramatic plot of the movie. All too soon, your arms grew tired. You relaxed them onto the armrest, forgetting that they were already occupied by Loki’s. You tried to relax them to your sides but were met with his thighs on either side of you.

Loki didn’t seem fazed by any of it. His breathing was even. His heartbeat was steady as a drum, albeit thumping loudly and hard behind you. The only tell he gave away was the movement of his head next to yours. His quick inhale of breath as he surreptitiously smelled the perfume of your hair.

How long has it been? Days? Weeks? A lifetime, since you’ve felt his touch. And here you are now, sitting on his lap, hoping that the growing hardness you felt behind you is what you think it is and not just his belt buckle.

“Truth or dare, darling?” Loki whispered in your ear, breaking his resolve.

“Loki, I’m tired of these games. I don’t-”

“Truth? Or dare?” he insisted. You gave out a big sigh and rolled your eyes, knowing he could see your expression. You looked around at your team, engrossed in the movie.

“They can’t hear us as long as you whisper,” Loki said answering your unspoken question.

“Truth.” You answered him.

“Really?” he asked surprised.

“Well, a dare got me into this mess,” you reasoned.

“What was Natasha’s dare?” Of all the things he could’ve asked you. You didn’t think he would be too curious, but it was also the one answer that would leave you too vulnerable.

“She dared me to-”

“Sit on my lap?”

“No!” A beat was taken before you had the courage to say what you needed to.

“What did she say, verbatim?”

“Her exact words were…to sit with the person I had feelings for…for the entire movie,” you whispered.

Heat crawled up your spine. You can feel your embarrassment radiate through your clothes and add to the heat that Loki was giving off. You felt so flushed and nervous that you started rambling. “And you had taken up the entire space with your long legs. Clearly, there was nowhere else for me to sit but your lap. I mean honestly. It was almost as if you didn’t want anyone sitting next to you. What’s the point in coming to these group exercises if you don’t intend to be amiable? I-”

“Shh,” Loki said putting his finger to your lips. “Keep your voice down, darling. Or else my enchantment will fail.” You looked around at your teammates who were still engrossed in the movie.

He pulled you closer to the chair, flushed against his firm chest. His large hand cradled your stomach while his other fingers continued to explore your lips. They tickled you as he ran them gingerly, tracing your cupid’s bow down to the soft pout of your bottom lip. He kept his stare at your mouth, lost in thought.

“Dare me, darling.” He whispered.

“That’s not how the game works, Loki,” you smiled.

“Dare me to kiss you. Please.” His plea took you by surprise. Desire wrapped around the two of you. Squeezing the air from both your lungs, leaving you wanting.

Breathlessly you said, “I dare you to kiss me Lo-” You hadn’t finished your sentence before his lips hungrily descended on yours. His hand cupped your cheek and kept your head to his. Your hands intertwined with his and he held on to you tighter.

Loki’s kiss was deep and demanding. There was a sense of urgency to it as if he was running out of time and he had yet to get his fill of you. He pulled away briefly to breathe but his appetite only grew. He needed to kiss you. He needed to touch you. Everywhere.

With his eyes closed, his lips found your neck and artfully marked your skin. His hands flew to the buttons of your shirt, opening them one by one as you laid your head back onto his shoulders. You gave in to him. Into his touch. His hands reached inside and cupped your breast, making you moan.

A well-timed explosion happened in the movie that you and Loki had already disregarded. It pulled your attention away from his yearning, giving you logic long enough to remember where you were.

“Loki…” you whimpered. He ignored your cries and was lost in his own spiral. “Loki I…I need you. But not here. Not in front of everyone.”

“Why not in front of everyone? That way Rogers knows what a proper kiss looks like,” he growled. His jealousy made you titter. “Let me wipe that moment out of your memories. Let me replace it with my lips.” He grabbed your chin and kissed you again with no regard for keeping it quiet. His entire body shook with emotion. Longing, jealousy, dominance.

“I was thinking of you,” you admitted panting onto his lips. “I was imagining I was kissing you.”

Loki stared into your eyes as he let that information swirl in his thoughts. His growing smile sent shivers throughout your body. You felt carnal pleasure in knowing you had pleased him somehow.

His voice changed. His eyes had grown darker. He inhaled through his teeth as he praised you, “That’s my girl,” he snarled. His hands continued to roam underneath your blouse. His fingers pinched your aching nipples through the lace of your bra, sending you jolts of pleasure down to your already heated sex. “Are you going to continue being a good girl for me?”

You nodded devotedly. “Good,” Loki growled, fighting to keep his desire at bay. “I want you to go to my room and wait for me on my bed. Can you do that for me, pet?”

You moaned when he nipped your jaw gently waiting for you to answer. You slowly got up, feeling the rush of your excitement pool down into your panties. You walked slowly, trying not to get the attention of the others, as you snuck behind the chair where Loki was sitting.

“Oh and pet…” he whispered grabbing your hand gently. “…Don’t think of running away to make me chase you like last time. Unless,” spreader bar “You’d like to be cuffed and barred again.” He smiled, daring you.

⬅️20 Questions | House of Card➡️

🏷️ @emarich7 @michelleleewise @coldnique @psychospore @lokisgoodgirl @silverfire475 @fictive-sl0th @springdandelixn @wheredafandomat @goldencherriess @peaches1958@salempoe @thomase1 @kkdvkyya @a-witch-with-words @mischief2sarawr @sarawr-reads @vbecker10 @peachymallow @irishhappiness @cakesandtom @simplyholl @here4thefanfics @tallseaweed @holdmytesseract @immersed-in-mischief @joyful-enchantress @lokisninerealms @kikster606 @glitterylokislut @loz-3 @slytherclaw1227 @chantsdemarins @the-lady-amphitrite @eleniblue @km-ffluv @lokidokieokie @n3rdybirdee @melsunshine @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokischambermaid @cjand10

745 notes · View notes