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gumiluver · 11 days

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21&29 with nanami; like 21 for the beginning and reader is still shy especially when 29 comes into play :) fem reader pls 🥺

you don’t know just how heavy I fuck w this idea I’m so here for it!! hope you enjoy luv!! <3

prompt 21: "If you wanted me to fuck you then you should've just said so, love. No need to be shy with me—you're my everything."

prompt 29: "Ohhh fuck—baby...did you know you could squirt?”

lover <3: nanami kento x afab!reader

byr/byi: the content in this fic is not suitable for individuals under the age of 18--minors will be blocked (DNI), wc: 1.7k

cw: smut, nsfw, pwp, afab!reader, praise kink, manhandling, dom/sub dynamics, teasing, squirting, pet names (love, baby)

an: requests still open! check out the guidelines here for more info :)

border credit: @/cafekitsune, pic credit: oh5629289 on pinterest

“How long have we been together now love—two years and you’re still so shy f’ me?” Kento questions you, peppering soft kisses along the nape of your neck. His burly hands move along the sides of your hips, one slowly trailing upwards to cup and caress your left breast while the other molds around your hip, pulling a whine out of you in the process.

“C-can’t help it Ken’…you make me so flustered,” you whimper, pulling from his grasp to shy away from his intense gaze. He’s quick to grab your chin tho, forcing your eyes back to him to meet his sly gaze. Your shy nature easily amuses his, loving how quick you are to break your composure and fall for his ploy.

“Is that so, love? What makes you so flustered, hm?” he teases, an uncommon occurrence that makes your empty pussy clench helplessly. You whine and shift around in his hold, wanting to break away from your lover's grasp to hide under the covers and save yourself from his teasing. Your thighs squeeze together, aimlessly hoping to satisfy the deep ache that’s settling in your cunt and, of course, he takes note of that.

Nanami has always been so observant over you.

Like how he knows when you’re holding in your pleasure filled moans—the little scrunch of your nose and furrow of your brow gives you away.

Or when you try and sneak a quick orgasm in after he’s warned you to hold it—the way your pussy clenches his tip for dear life even after he’s stilled your hips makes your plans damn well known to him.

And even when you’re trying to hide how horny you are—like how you are now—he can tell; from the way you shy away from his touch and overt your gaze as if he were the apple of sin you couldn’t help but sink your teeth in.

And he fucking loves it. He loves getting to see your agitated and flustered state—it inflates his ego like no other. To see you, the most beautiful being he’s ever laid his eyes on, become so enamored and needy for him has him feeling like a fucking god.

“What is it, baby? You can tell me. What is it that you need me to do—say it,” he demands, pressing you deeper into the wall, grinding his hard cock into your clothed pussy. The moan that spills from you fuels Nanami’s head with even more sinful deeds he’d love to corrupt you with.

“I-I need…” you trail off, panting like a bitch in heat over how flustered he’s got you. You let out a small whine, feeling his left knee shift between your legs to press against your slick mound, rubbing his strong thigh against you to provide you with the pleasure your body oh so craves.

“Yes? What do you need love,” he whispers, moving the hand on your hip to place a light grasp around your neck, holding you steady and meeting your gaze.

“Ahh!! K-Kento please!!” you beg, unsure of what exactly it was you were even begging for—but nonetheless, you plead. The pleasure pulsating through your sweet cunt sends shockwaves, hitting deep within your soul and making you preen.

“Say it. Be good and tell me what you need,” he groans out, patience wearing thin at the feel of your heat leaking through your panties and onto his slacks. His tan pants presenting a wet spot on the thigh that’s pushed up to your cunt—how lewd.

“N-need you…in me…” you whimper out, shamefully closing your eyes to save yourself from the embarrassment that is begging for dick.

But fuck did it make his cock throb hearing it.

The second he hears your pretty plea, Kento makes haste in stripping you of your clothes and sprinting to the nearest surface he can find.

“If you wanted me to fuck you then you should’ve just said so, love. No need to be shy with me—you’re my everything,” he coos, hovering his hulking body over your smaller one. Sheepishly, you glance away from him to gawk at his toned body. Ripples of muscle decorate his form as his tanned skin glows a pretty shade of pink, no doubt from the sheer excitement coursing through his veins.

He brings a hand upwards to cup your chin again, wanting to make sure that your wandering eyes don’t miss all the fun that’s about to start, “keep your eyes on me love—don’t look away.”

His demanding tone a clear contradiction to his usually gentle demeanor, making your mouth fall dry and your pussy run wet. You nod quickly, making direct eye contact with your lover's hazel eyes, and the hum of approval he lets out makes you clench your thighs that are hung around his waist.

Slowly, he rubs the tip of his cock against your folds, carefully collecting the slick that escapes from your pussy to thoroughly coat his cock—all while gazing intensely at you. After all, he didn’t want to miss seeing your face morphed into that pleasure-filled look he positively yearns to see.

A whiny cry of his name pulls him back to reality, ripping his gaze away from yours to stare down at your entrance and fuck—what a fucking mess.

“Ohhh baby, look at you,” he groans loudly, smacking the tip of his cock against your soaked cunny. Lewd ‘plap’ ‘plap’ ‘plaps’ radiate against the room with the way his heavy cockhead smacks against your clit. You’re quivering now, moving your hips to avoid the torturous teasing that your sorcerer subjects you to.

And just as you were about to whine for him to just put it in, you felt his heavy tip catch against your little hole. Gasping, you frantically reach for his biceps, nails digging into the skin as he slowly feeds you his monstrous cock.

“Ha’aaahh—kentooo!” you cry out, unable to comprehend the sheer stretch that is his girth. Regardless of how many times you’ve taken Kento, or how long he spends between your thighs prepping you, nothing could ever mentally prepare you for the actual feeling of his cock splitting you open.

“I know baby I know—just a c-couple more inches, fuckk,” he groans, glancing up at you every so often to make sure you’re still being his good girl and watching everything he does, “being so good for me.”

It felt like eons have passed before Kento finally sheathes himself fully into you. But, as soon as he’s inside you, he’s quick to unsheathe and start up a brutal pace.

“I-I can’t!! Oh f-fuck—slow do-own Ken’!!” you whimper out, his sharp thrusts breaking up your sentence. He fucks you with a passion that rivals that of a warrior, composed and dead set on his goal of fucking you to completion. He wants to ingrain himself into your womb, wants your pussy to react to his touch, his voice—and his alone.

“Fuuuuck this pussy’s perfect for me love, keep your legs spread—yeaaa just like that,” he grunts, absolutely lost in a haze of lust and pleasure. He’s so pussy drunk on you that he doesn’t even realize just how far gone you are. His usually observant nature completely bypassed the way he could only see the whites of your eyes, how your body is shaking—convulsing even, and just how sensitive your body is slowly starting to feel. Your pussy’s fluttering ridiculously, spasming around his thick shaft so much so that it felt like his cock was getting massaged by your womb. The wetness of your cunt made the nastiest sounds, filling the air with a lewd atmosphere that screamed sex.

But something felt…different.

It felt…off.

You jolt upwards—or at least tried to, considering how quick Nanami was to push you back down, not wanting to let up on his precious girl.

“K-Kento it feels weird!!” you cry, pushing at his arms to try and escape his ruthless pounding, but it’s pointless—he’s got you caged in his arms, right where he wants you.

“s’okay love, let me make it feel good—can feel you squeezing my cock so nicely, fuuckk” he lets out an animalistic grunt, pressing more of his body weight into you to immobilize you. You let out a long, languid moan, the feeling of his tip proding in places you didn’t even realize he could reach was making you see galaxies rather than stars. But yet again, that same foreign pressure began to burn deep within your womb, almost as if you were going to explode.

“N-nooo, p-please!! It feels like I—ahhh—…feels like m’gonna…” you trail off, unable to formulate your words. You’re panting so much that all you could do was move your hands to his chest in a measly attempt to push him away.

“Gonna what, love? Gonna cum? Come on baby, give it to me—cum for me,” he grunts out, his voice going octaves lower—so much so that you could feel the reverb of his voice hit your clit. His thrusts move quicker and with much more vigor, aiming to push you over the edge. Sneaking a rough hand down to your mound, he maneuvers his thumb to find your pink pearl and circles it in that specific way that makes you go fucking crazy.

And that final motion was what came of your undoing.

A bright flash of white obscures your vision, and the sheer ecstasy that courses through your veins sends you into an early release that spills all over your lover's pelvis. Nanami’s eyes widen in shock, seeing the guttural force of your orgasm shake the literal wind out of you makes his pride swell like none other. He couldn’t believe it; who could’ve known that his perfect little angel could do something so…lascivious—so sinful.

“Ohhh fuck—baby…did you know you could squirt?”

an: the way this man makes me go absolutely feral…anyways, I hope you all enjoyed & requests are still open!! Please be sure to check the guidelines before you submit a request!! <3

As always, likes, comments, follows, reblogs, and any other form of interaction is greatly appreciated <3 #supportcreators

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deepestnightcolor · 1 month

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☾ ᴡʜᴀᴛᴄʜᴀ ɢᴏɴɴᴀ ᴅᴏ – ᴡʜᴀᴛᴄʜᴀ ɢᴏɴɴᴀ ᴅᴏ ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ? ☽

ᴀ/ɴ: Today's smut is sponsored by this dialogue I had with Sebastian at the luau and Mayor Lewis's purple underwear. Curious? You shall read on, then! I hope you enjoy, and thank you for your time! ✧

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Sam (SDV) x afab!Reader

ᴡᴄ: 3669 words

ᴍᴅɴɪ ✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: exhibitionism, unprotected sex, creampie, name calling, dirty talk, spanking, mentioning of body painting, Sam's being a rebellious twat and vandalizes stuff.

Living in Pelican Town for over a year now has taught you a lot, but three things had proven to be quite interesting. For one, the whole community had seemingly been held together by nothing more but metaphorical spit and duct tape before you had arrived and had desperately needed your help without letting you know what you had actually signed up for. Secondly, the people in this town were incredibly easy to bribe with gifts, especially when you added a sweet smile on top. And third, this town was basically dead during the night. After 8 PM, most doors were locked tight, and the streets were empty. This information wasn’t necessary for your work as a farmer, and it certainly didn’t help you with it, but to you, it was an important piece of knowledge. You adored strolling through the streets late at night like a stray cat because it was the only time of the day when you didn’t have to expect someone calling your name or even stepping in your way to have a chat. The night belonged to you, and only you. Or so you thought.

You were wandering through the darkness of the night, enjoying the occasional hoot coming from above you when an owl flew past and the flapping of bat wings cutting through the air. The sounds of the night soothed you; the darkness gave you a sense of security – it was like a cloth wrapping around you, shielding you from the world unless you scared it off with a source of light. It made you feel invisible and seen all the same, valuable, and yet so breakable. Raw emotions you could really allow to settle during the dark hour, emotions that drowned in the buzz of the day.

When your steps passed Lewis’s house a hissing sound met your ear. Stopping in your tracks, your eyes snapped over in the direction you had thought the sound to come from, brows knitted together in a frown. A snake? You had never seen a snake in Pelican Town, or any place in the valley, really. Yet there it was again, a cold hissing sound, slicing through the silence of the night. Before you could really make a decision on what to do, your curiosity had already gotten the best of you. You quietly stepped towards Lewis’s property when you heard another hiss. It was longer now, drawn out as if to make a point. Had the animal already taken note of you and was now threatening you? Yet as you took another step closer and peeked over the picket fence, you saw a figure hunched over right in front of the old pick-up. The size certainly didn’t seem fitting for a snake, unless it had decided to mutate and then break into Alex’s room to eat up his stash of protein bars. Still, the shadow was hissing quietly, and it didn’t look like it had noticed you just yet. You pulled out your phone carefully and tapped the flashlight button, shining the cone of light onto what you had thought to be a snake. The ”snake” was wearing all black, and whipped around faster than you could have opened your mouth to ask what the hell they were doing there. You had always been taught to expect the unexpected, but you would have never guessed that you would find Sam hunched over in front of the mayor’s car with a spray can in his right hand and an expression of unsureness on his face. Sam, who babysat his brother on the beach so he could build his sandcastles, Sam who crouched down to talk to kids, Sam who listened to “I’m Just Ken” while working at Joja. Your boyfriend Sam.

“What the fuck are you doing there exactly, Sam?” The blond had been squinting against the light up until now, but when heard your voice, his face visibly relaxed. “Babe, oh fuck, it’s you,” he breathed, letting out a small, airy laugh. You swallowed, quickly making your way over to the blond, flicking your fingers against his forehead. “Yes, it’s me. But it could have been Lewis. Whose property you are on, doing something to his car, may I add,” you whispered back, watching your boyfriend squint against the light again, and nod. “I know, I know, but I ordered these spray cans on sale, and they just came today, and I just saw an opportunity-“ “Opportunity to do what?” Instead of answering, Sam’s blue eyes slowly flickered to the hood of the car. You furrowed your brows at him, even though you were pretty sure that he couldn’t make out your face. “Sam, you shouldn’t be here. Especially not with spray cans,” you scolded, shining your light on where Sam was looking.

You opened your mouth again, about to scold the blond again, but it was hard to form words when you had to resist the urge to break out into laughter. A pair of undies was revealed under the shine of your flashlight, purple in colour and ready to be seen by the whole community. You had seriously thought you had been discreet when you had returned them to the mayor, but it hadn’t been your fault that he dropped them when Sam came into the townhall after you.

“You are an idiot,” you whispered to him, a giggle slipping past your lips. Sam grinned up at you, his head tilting to the side. “Maybe I am, but so far, I am an idiot that hasn’t been caught yet. So could you please…?” You nodded and knelt next to the rebel, turning off the flash that had bothered him. He let out a sigh of relief, and despite the darkness, you could make out the mischievous glimmer in his eyes.

“How does one even come up with shit like this?” you asked, your hands wrapping around his shoulders. Sam grinned at you, shrugging his broad shoulders. “I thought he deserved it. Treatin’ his woman like shit because he’s a coward. Thought he should have the need to explain himself…” “Standing up for Marnie? Hot,” you chuckled, flicking his forehead again. “But I doubt this stems from nothing but nobility.” Again, his pearly whites flashed through the darkness. “Okay, maybe I thought him pissing his pants when he sees this would be incredibly funny.” “There we go,” you laughed quietly, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. You had to admit, seeing Sam like this was…interesting, to say the least. You hadn’t expected him to act up in such ways, much less plot an act of rebellion like this – he hadn’t even forgotten to cover his blond hair with a beanie. For some reason, it made you lean in and press a small kiss against his lips. You had planned on pulling away, but before you knew it, you felt yourself being pulled onto your boyfriend’s lap, his tongue licking over yours. Were you into bad boys? Or was it just the unexpected rebellious side of Sam that broke through the seemingly peaceful façade Pelican Town tried to keep up, shaking its rhythm to the core? You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but what you were very aware of was the fact that his lips tasted just so good.

You pulled away after a while, taking his paint-smeared hand in your own as you got on your feet. “Let’s go, then, before my idiot and I get caught,” you panted, plans on what you would do with Sam once you had reached the safety of your bedroom already forming. However, Sam sat still. You tugged at his hand once more, hoping he would cave and follow you, a smile tugging on your lips when you saw him rise. However, you definitely didn’t expect to be pulled into Sam’s chest with his lips smashing into yours again. It was one of the sloppiest kisses you had ever experienced with Sam; it was wet and all tongue and teeth, making you moan into it quietly. He took the chance and sucked on your tongue, his hands travelling down to your ass, giving it a squeeze with his roughened hands. He only pulled away when the both of you were in dire need of air, a string of saliva still connecting your lips. Warm breath tickling your air making you shudder; you heard his voice. It was deeper now, huskier and rougher around the edges. “How about we stick it to him some more?” “Wh..What do you mean?” You asked, gasping when his fingers popped open the button of your pants. “Oh, I think you know what I mean,” he hummed, his pierced tongue following the shell of your ears, knowing it would have your skin break out in goosebumps. “You… you want to do it here?” “What, you scared?” He cooed, his lips now kissing down your neck, chuckling in amusement when you tilted your head to the side in a split second to allow more access. “No, but- is that legal? What if we get caught?” “Nothing I did here is legal, but I promise you, we won’t get caught. Lewis sleeps like a rock, and the others are far enough away...Besides…Wouldn’t it be fun to get caught? Let them know who’s fuckin’ you well? Showin’ them how it’s done?” You almost whimpered at his words, his hand had now found its way into your underwear. You needed to stop this. Both of you could get into serious trouble, and you didn’t want that. The two of you needed to get home and sleep this off and hope that Mayor Lewis never found out who the sprayer was.

You pushed your pants down yourself, shoving Sam’s beanie off his head to run your fingers through the blond strands, your lips finding your boyfriend’s despite the darkness. This time it was you greedily sucking on his tongue, allowing his finger to circle your clit with tiny, quick movements. Sam’s other hand found its way to your ass, gripping the flesh and giving it a gentle smack. You tugged on his hair in return, pushing your body flush against his to let him feel your tits against his chest. Given his laboured breathing, you knew it had the desired effect on him as you allowed yourself to kiss down his neck after pulling away from his lips. “Knew you would come around,” he hummed, his hand pulling from your panties. You whined in return, just to be kissed again. “Shhh…We don’t want to get caught just yet, do we?” He murmured, smacking your ass with both hands now, probably leaving some paint there as well. Being too into it to care, you gave him what he wanted, jumping up just to be steadied by his strong arms and hoisted up against his body. You wrapped your legs around his hips, your crotches now pressed together. In this position you could feel the heat radiate from Sam’s already hardened dick, replacing the fears of being caught with thoughts of being filled to the brim by his pierced cock. “Sam, want you to fuck me,” you whispered, rutting your hips against the bulge restrained by his black pants. Sam groaned quietly, squeezing your ass again while he guided the movements of your hips over his crotch. “And I wanna fuck you, princess. Gonna fill ya up right ‘ere, ‘kay? Let everyone know how to treat a woman.” His words were accompanied by his lips smacking kisses on your neck, sucking a hickey onto the heated-up skin when he deemed it fit. “Pretty please.” Sam chuckled, his eyes flickering to Lewis’s house momentarily to make sure everything remained dark, his hand already moving to push down your panties. “How could I say no when you ask me like that?” It wasn’t like he could have said no even if you hadn’t asked him like that; his penis was painfully hard by now, red and hot to the touch. His tip glistening with pre-cum; the prospect of getting to fuck his absolutely beautiful girlfriend out in the open after just basically committing a petty crime had his cock drooling for you.

He carefully placed you on the hood of the car, smiling to himself when he felt your body shiver as soon as your bare ass met with the cold surface of it. Still, as he allowed his finger to run through your folds, he could feel what a hot mess you were already; wetness coated his finger, and your legs twitched against his hips when he brushed over your clit. As much as he wanted to tease you, he knew he had to be quicker than usual. Lewis did sleep like a rock, but he would be damned if he was stopped before he could have sunken his dick into you. “You ready for me, baby?” His voice was heavy with lust, the pad of his thumb still messing with your clit that was pulsing for his touch. “Mhhhmmm!” you whispered, eyes darting from the mayor’s house back to your lover, your legs quivering already. The cold night air hitting your wet cunt made you want Sam’s cock all the more, and you knew you were basically drooling down there. The excitement you felt wrapped you into a heavy cloud, just like the darkness of the night usually did. You were able to hear the fabric of his pants as he pulled them down, soon followed by a small smacking sound. Your mouth watered as you laid eyes on the outline of Sam’s erection, your pussy clenching around nothing in eager anticipation. You reached your hand out to let the pads of your fingers ghost along his shaft, smiling to yourself when you heard his breath hitch. Sam was an incredibly sensitive man; you had managed to make him cum by teasing his cock alone more than once. You felt yourself clench yet again when you felt the cold metal of his piercing near the tip of his dick, your lower lip catching between your teeth. You wanted him, and you wanted him now. Him massaging your clit had made your heart thump into your chest and your head feel more light, but it had also made you care about nothing but him fucking you. You used your legs that were still hooked around his hips to pull him closer, your fingers wrapping around his pulsing shaft. Leading him to your core, you guided his dick through your folds, mixing precum with your own arousal. Sam was groaning under his breath, and you could feel a shift in your surroundings as he placed his hands right next to you on the hood of the car. “You are so wet for me already, baby,” he whispered. “Just for you,” you moaned, feeling his lips run down your neck again before he sat up, lining himself up with your entrance.

You could feel his fingers intertwining with yours and you gave him a squeeze. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, and pushed his hips forward in one swift movement, filling you to the hilt with ease. It knocked the air out of your lungs, and for a moment, you could have sworn the world was spinning fast enough for you to actually see it, but the stretch felt just so good. Your walls clung to Sam as if your life depended on it, and the urge to scream out his name just to show everyone who filled you up so well was dancing on your tongue. Sam himself struggled to keep up his composure, his head spinning with the way you clung to him. You were so wet and warm; a great contrast to the cold night. And – it was you. You always managed to take his breath away.

Breathing heavily, Sam held the position he was in, massaging your breasts through your shirt. You could feel every inch of him inside of you, and Yoba, you loved it. You grasped at strands of his hair, tugging on it as your hips snapped against him, making him suck in air through his teeth. “Fuck, ya’re so sexy, ya know that? And all mine,” he slurred, leaning down to press another sloppy kiss to your lips. This one was more hasty, though, as he quickly pulled away to push one of your legs against you, almost completely pulling out just to snap his hips forward again, filling you to the brim again. The blond started with a slow pace, trying to show you that he had full control over the situation, but you made it so hard. Your walls were contracting around his cock as if to massage the pierced shaft, drooling all over the already wet skin. With each thrust he gave you he forced a whimper out of your mouth which you desperately tried to keep shut but failed miserably. And the way you looked in the moonlight that had now been revealed by the clouds… it really wasn’t his fault that his thrusts almost automatically picked up the pace, abusing your little cunt like as it deserved. Your back arched off the car, but your ass rubbed against the now warmed-up steel beneath your skin as it began to redden. One of Sam’s hands kept your leg pushed towards your shoulder, while the other worked your clit mercilessly. He was fucking you hard; his cock pounding into you just to prove that he could, balls smacking against your wet lips to underline the obviousness of what you were doing out here. “Sam!” you hissed, your fingers curling in his hair. He was giving you every centimetre of him, and he was giving to you at a mind -breaking pace. If someone had asked you your name, you would have probably given Sam’s, as that was all that left your mouth at this point.

“That’s m’good fuckin’ girl. Takin’ my cock so well, like ya were made for it, hm? Like being stuffed with my cock out here? Yes?” he grunted, giving your clit a light smack as you didn’t respond. You gasped loudly at that, your toes curling in the sneakers that neither of you had bothered to take off. “Mhmmm!” You moaned, but were cut off by a tongue shoved down your throat. You had to close your eyes for a moment; the sensation of Sam mercilessly fucking you in the cold air of the night and him kissing you so roughly made everything feel like you were far away, chasing the high announcing itself with the tightening knot in your stomach. It wasn’t like Sam wasn’t a mess, though. His usually carefully styled hair was completely dishevelled, his cheeks were flush with arousal, and his breathing was just barely covering the grunts and groans of your name. His legs shook as he pounded his drooling dick into your wet cunt, and admittedly, he himself was drooling for you. “’m gonna cum, baby. Ya gonna cum for me? Cum all over me? Show ‘em who ya belong to?” The words all were whispered in your mouth, and you ate them right up with a dazed nod. You could feel the metal of Sam’s piercing rut against your walls as his tip was bullying your cervix, causing your vision to blur with tears. His thumb found your clit again, and this time he rubbed much slower circles onto it with added pressure. Your body felt like it was set under electrical shocks; each time a wave of pleasure subsided, the next one followed. “Lookin’ so pretty in the moonlight, baby,” he whispered, his heart pounding in your chest. He could have sworn whenever he praised you even the slightest, your cunt just sucked him in further, and it drove him insane. Absolutely insane.

“Sam! Sam, gonna cum, oh fuck, cummin’!” you cried out, and this time, your boyfriend didn’t care to quieten you. He was busy staring down at you as you threw your head back, your back arching in again while you held onto his shoulders tightly. Your cunt spasmed around him as you moaned his name, your hips both rutting against him and trying to get away from him as he still bullied into you.

The begging whisper of his name as you rode your orgasm was enough for Sam; his balls tightened as ropes of cum filled you up, his hips shaking as he forced himself to keep moving, feeling the burning need to fill you up to the brim and fuck his own cum into you deep enough you would feel it the next day. His penis twitched inside of you as he fucked himself empty, not slowing down until he had fucked all his cum inside of you, having you shiver beneath him.

The two of you were panting, Sam’s hand finding yours again and allowing them to lock together, his forehead resting against yours as he slowly pulled out from you, ignoring the wetness of his crotch. The two of you smiled at each other silently, when suddenly you saw a light switch on inside the house. You looked at each other again as Sam quickly sprung to action just barely pulling up his pants before he helped you pull up your own. You picked up the cans and the beanies before you were thrown over Sam’s shoulder, the blond running towards his house in a panicked frenzy.

You couldn’t help but giggle like two teenagers as you hid in some bushes, holding one another’s mouth shut. What you didn’t expect was that instead of a full painting of some purple undies on Mayor Lewis’s car, there was half a painting of his underwear, accompanied by the print of an ass from where you had been sitting. The other half of the painting Sam would find later when the two of you had a shower on your farm.

#sdv #stardew valley fanfic #stardew valley #stardew valley farmer #stardew valley smut #sdv fanfic #sdv sam #smut #fanfic #Stardew Valley smut #Sam (SDV) x reader #Stardew Valley Sam x reader #SDV x reader smut #sdv x reader

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peachesofteal · 3 months

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soap x cypher masterlist Soap/female reader You missed a check in / 18+ / Your Sergeant commits a war crime for you, hurt/comfort

"It's alright, Cy. It's jus' me. Ghost is standin' watch at the door."

He smoothes the bar of soap over your shoulder, easy and slow, telegraphing his movements the same way he'd try to calm a spooked horse, pressing into their flank with gentle, reassuring pressure. I'm here, his fingers tell you. I'm right here.

"What do ye mean, they missed a check in?"

Laswell, to her credit, is very calm. Always collected in the face of danger, turmoil, and she gestures to the screen, where a blueprint has been replaced with a map.

"They were due in at this checkpoint at 1300."

"Any contact?" Price tilts his head, studying the satellite imagery.

"No. The security detail's gps is showing stationary, but the other vehicle has started to move off course, north." Johnny feels sick. The other vehicle, the one Laswell is talking about, is the one you are in. The one carrying the two analysts and some cut rate american sergeant.

His chair clatters to the floor with bang, fists clenched so tight they shake.

"We'll get 'er, Johnny." Ghost promises, and Price nods, waving them out the door.

"Let's load up."

"I- I don't want to." He doesn't need a clarifying question to understand what you're talking about. He understands you. That's all he'll ever need.

"You dinnae have to. Keep 'em closed for me then, aye? I'll take care of everything." You're still wearing your pants, and your boots, even though the shower is washing water down your body, soaking them until they stick to your skin.

You whine. There are no words spoken, but you fingers twist in the pockets, the belt loops, and he knows.

"Alright, alright. Let's get these off then. I'm going to undo your button and zipper." He murmurs softly, stripping them down your ankles, goosebumps sprouting from your skin as the water splashes against you, raining down onto his hair. His clothes are soaked, stuck to his skin like tar, each flick of his wrist or pull of his arm heavier than usual. He kneels, one knee between your feet, and begins unlacing your boots. "Gonna take yer boots off, now. Then we'll get ye out of everything." You nod. "We'll get ye washed up in no time, get ye into some comfy clothes." He glances upwards, ensuring you heard him, and then taps your calf one by one, urging you to lift a foot at a time as you hold onto his shoulder for support. "There ye go, good girl." He praises once you're nude, rising back to his full height, bar of soap still in hand.

"Johnny." Your press into him, face in his neck, fisting the front of his jacket, trying to burrow yourself beneath his skin. It’s all wrong, how you drift so aimlessly into the ether of somewhere else, lost in the present, in the incendiary magma of a memory he wishes didn’t exist.

"Shhh, wee sweet. I've got ye. I'm here."

"Ye get yer filthy fuckin' hands off her RIGHT NOW." Johnny screams, gives the command at the top of his lungs, Kyle shooting him a nervous look over his scope.

"There's no need to get upset-"

"Shut up." Ghost grunts. "Let the analyst go, an' maybe we'll keep you alive as a prisoner." The woman shakes her head, and then shoves you forward, closer, but no father away from the barrel of her gun that rests right at your temple.

"She's my only leverage now." The body of your co-worker is crumpled on the concrete, blood spilled around him like a halo. Johnny's vision dims red.

"Ye dinnae ken who ye've got in your hands." He warns, a click echoing across the room.

Someone is trying to argue with Simon, just outside the door. Johnny can hear it, the frustrated tenor of someone who's about to make a terrible mistake, the irritated grumble that gets silenced immediately by Lt's bark, more than enough persuasion for them to move on to the next floor's showers.

"Cy?" He murmurs, but you don't respond, face still tucked in his clavicle. You've stayed there, curled up against him, letting him clean you, dirt and blood all washing down the drain as you kept your eyes closed and he re-inspected you for wounds. "I'm goin' take ye back to my room." He holds your upper arms, moving you in step with him, directing you out of the shower and onto the mat, where he reaches for the first of many towels, ghosting the texture across your shoulder, then your cheek, before using it as intended, wrapping it around your body and reaching for the next. It's all he can do now; take care of you, get you clean, get you comfortable, hold you while you sleep and stare at the ceiling, recounting every second of today, fixating on the pieces that could have gone wrong, that could have ended your life and lost you to him, forever.

"Cold." Your whisper redirects his attention. Reminds him of his focus.

"I know, is a wee bit, isnae it?" He brought a sweatshirt, one of his, and once he's got you mostly dry, he taps. "Arms up, wee sweet." When your head pokes through the hole, he smiles, even though your eyes are still closed. "There she is, mo ghraidh." Your pointer finger strokes over the middle of your forehead, circling as if you're outlining a target, and then traces up his neck, over his jaw and across his cheek, patting his lips. They curve beneath your touch, eager to do your bidding, pleased by your silent request. "Of course I'll give ye a kiss, Cy, give ye whatever ye want, always."

"Time's up. What's it gonna be?" Price demands, and the gun digs into the side of your head, forcing you downward at an odd angle, panic plainly displayed across your face.

"Johnny." Your voice sings like an off key chorus, an echo of voices too twisted, too shrill.

"It's alright Cy, nothin' is goin' happen to ye." The woman with the gun laughs. It's decadent, believable, like she truly thinks she's going to get away, or take you with her. "I'm goin' to kill ye." He promises. "Whether it's now, or later. It'l be me, wringing out yer last breath."

Her hand moves to your throat and squeezes.

It's enough. More than enough.

"Guess it'l be now, then." And with no announcement, no more second chances, no more second guessing- his finger pulls the trigger.

“You killed her.” Your whisper trembles in the dark. His muscle involuntarily tenses, and relaxes just as quickly, sinking into the mattress, pulling you tighter into his arms.

“An’ I’d do it again. I’d do it a thousand times over to save ye.”

#soap x cypher #soap x reader #peaches writes

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drewsprettygirl · 10 months

Text

barbie girl ｡˚ ⋆꒰ა♡໒꒱⋆ ˚｡ 🎀🍉

mike wheeler x doll collector! fem reader

smut. this is fucking nasty so if u guys dont like mike wheeler smut just s c r o l l ♡♪

age pairing : 17-18

warnings : none

the exchange of looks and stares between you and a classmate of yours in chemistry bubbled across the hallway. you had taken an interest towards this boy, “wheeler” as you called him. his glare towards you always sent chills to your spine. or even to your throbbing— we aren’t there yet.

it wasn’t a joke that he was hot. he was really hot for a nerd. his fingers always got your panties in a bunch. his nose— oh god don’t even get started with his nose. his nose is perfect and to think of it, his curls were cute.

you guys were partnered up for a project and he had to come to your house to finish, and that’s how he ended up in your room, admiring your collection.

mike considered himself a gentleman, a respectable boy, but boy did he reconsider those words as soon as he saw what you were wearing. half of the time he was over, he was either talking to you or staring at your hardened nipples under your shirt due to the cold temperature of your ac.

“you collect barbies?”

“yeah.”

“don’t you think they’re kind of uh.. creepy? imagine sleeping and first thing you see when you wake up is a doll.”

“i don’t think so. they’re quite pretty to me, to be honest”

“i don’t really have a collection. i play dungeons and dragons.”

his fingers lingered on your barbie doll that you were quite fond of. your malibu barbie. a wave of confidence washed over you.

you had remembered the lingerie set you bought a couple of months ago on impulse. it wasn’t like you were actually planning to fuck someone. you weren’t a virgin. you had taken a few polaroids of yourself wearing the dainty pink lace panties and the bra that was almost spilling your huge breasts.

“i’ve got a barbie you can play with.”

mike felt his cheeks go red. what was she implying? immediately, dirty thoughts went onto his pretty head. he had always thought that y/n l/n was hot, first of all, she was a cheerleader. she was pretty. he just chose to ignore those lingering feelings he had because he didn’t want a relationship.

“is this gonna be a one time thing?” he asked. they were both slowly closing the gap between them, feeling their hot breaths on each other. “it’s up to you, mike.” slowly sliding down her own straps of her pink gingham tank top.

“i don’t want it to be a one time thing.”

“so do i.”

those words made him push over the edge, as you pushed him to your bed and straddled him on top, grazing your fingers on the evident bulge in his jeans. he pulled you to his face and you guys started to make out.

you unbutton his shirt while his hands were fondling your thighs, later you came to unzip his jeans and later his underwear, leaving him completely unclothed. he went to pull your tank top until you stopped him.

“ah ah ah. you don’t get to touch me.”

“come on y/n. please let me touch you—“

“you have to work for it, baby”

feeling defeat, you had tied mike onto your bed posts. your bed didn’t look any different to your barbies’ clothes. it was all styled in pink and lace.

you teasingly take your shorts off. leaving you in your sheer pink panties that made mike drool at the sight of your pussy. sitting beside him, you slowly pull your panties showing him your glistening core.

“i wanna touch you so bad, barbie girl.”

“good things come to those who wait, ken.”

you unclipped your bra revealing your tits. mike watched your breasts move with a slack jaw, the tip of his dick having a shade of an angry red. of course, you didn’t fail to see that so you did him a favor.

“you’re so big mike” “how will you fit in me?” you showered him with praises that didn’t fail to make him moan as your fingers were wrapped around his cock with your spit coated in it.

you crawl on top of him, only for his mouth to be met with your cunt. immediately he latched his mouth onto your pussy, and licked a stripe up, leaving you shuddering with his touch. kitten licks turned into big licks. big licks turned into sucking. the sucking turned into him plunging his tongue in and out your throbbing core, making you catch your high and throw your head back in pleasure.

mike grabbed onto your hips to support you, further, his hands started to dig onto your supple skin. “m-mike— i’m close- oh god” the overstimulation made you feel weak. you eventually started grinding on his face. it had only been a few minutes yet this boy had made you come more than 2 times. you felt yourself release, him lapping up your juices with his tongue.

you pulled off his mouth and collapsed on the other side of the bed. “you alright?” he asked. he sat up and looked at you, noticing your chest was heaving up and down.

“i have an idea.”

“well, we can make that idea happen if you untie me.”

“oh i will.”

you had grabbed your lipstick shaped vibrator from the drawer of your nightstand, mike parting his lips in shock of all the toys you have hidden in your drawer. you quickly untied his wrists from the posts of your bed, him immediately getting on top of you and starting to kiss you.

“what are we gonna do with that little toy of yours?”

“use it on me, please.”

“mmh, what if i don’t wanna?”

“i don’t take no for an answer pretty boy.”

next thing you know, you were sprawled in your bed. legs parted wide and mike dragging the vibrator across your pussy. “o-oh! oh my god- fuck!” you said gripping the sheets. he had increased the speed of the toy, making you buck your hips unconsciously. surprisingly you squirt. (bye wtf im crying how does squirting even work)

“oh god, you’re a squirter-“ “shut up!”

“i wanna fuck you even more now”

“then do it mike”

he had lined his cock up your pussy and started to ease himself in slowly. he starts to pound in your pussy in a controllable speed, then it goes faster. faster until you feel like your back was going to break after all that arching. you could even see the tip of his cock visibly inside your womb.

“shit— you feel so good barbie.”

“faster- faster- please baby”

loud moans were heard across the room. you were thankful that your parents were away this week for a vacation in italy. if your parents were home, god you would’ve been grounded for half the year.

“y/n?”

“yeah?”

“can i um— ask you something? its- its more of a favor but like—“

“what is it?”

“could you uh— ride me.”

you looked at him with a surprised look painted on your face. you didn’t expect him to ask you for a favor like that, as if you weren’t the one who started this fuck session with him. his cheeks were red out of embarrassment, you smiled as soon as you saw his face and agreed with his “favor”.

you flip each other’s positions, leaving him under you. you sink onto his dick, firstly, moving your hips back and forth, ending up with you vigorously bouncing on him.

his moans were loud. he was whining like a bitch, showering you with praises like “y/n you’re so good..” “so fucking beautiful” “you feel so great oh god—“ he felt himself slowly reaching his high. he didn’t have a condom on. “y-y/n i’m about to cum.” he spoke so softly.

“i didn’t put a condom on”

“it’s okay, you can do it inside.”

those words pushed him over the edge, releasing inside of you. as soon as you felt his cum inside you, the knots inside were erupted.

you collapsed on to the other side of the bed looking at him. his eyes shut and his lips parted, chest heaving.

“that was nice” you said. just so that the silence wasn’t so awkward.

“yeah. you know, i’ve always liked you.”

“you did?”

“yeah.” he said. kissing your lips softly. it wasn’t like anything you had done just a few seconds ago. it was a sweet kiss. the ones you share with pure love in it.

you guys were totally fucked up the next day tho, you had forgotten about the reason why he was even over at your house.

#mike wheeler #mike wheeler smut #mike wheeler lemon #mike wheeler fluff #mike wheeler stranger things #stranger things imagines #mike wheeler x reader #mike wheeler x reader smut #mike wheeler imagines #mike wheeler blurbs #finn wolfhard x reader #finn wolfhard smut

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theharddeck · 4 months

Text

start the new year right (jake seresin x f!reader)

pairing: jake hangman seresin x fem!reader (no y/n)

synopsis: what could be worse than a delayed flight with lost luggage? driving back to san diego with your nemesis. and what could be worse than that? the car breaking down in the middle of the night, on new years eve. and of course, the motel couldn't have a 2BR room available...

word count: 8.2k

warnings: 18+ explicit content, minors DNI: explicit PiV sex, oral sex (f!receiving), bc of who i am as a person overstimulation, not the BEST communication/consent, but everything is consensual! it's just implied; normally i'm better about explicitly asking and confirming

A/N: happy new year, friends! what would my year be, if not ending with me sitting down with a stanley of chamomile and writing more than i've written the whole previous month? hope this new year is gentle to y'all.

Natasha: Hey girl! Just got an alert that your transfer flight was delayed? Are you good?

You: ‘good’ as in ‘safe’, ya

You: ‘good’ as in ‘en route’, not so much. They overbooked the flight and the next one they have available is Wednesday morning

Natasha: nooooooo

You: At least my luggage is on its way to SAN… I’m considering renting a car and just making the drive from Vegas myself

Natasha: I love you and I trust you

Natasha: but an overnight drive by yourself after an already-long day is not the move

You: ugh I know, but i don’t know what else to do

Natasha: …mkay i have a solution but it’s not the one you want

You: let’s have it

Natasha: jake’s flight also rerouted through LAS

You: absolutely not

Nat: you didn’t even hear the actual plan!!

You: if it involves me and hangman, the answer is no

Natasha: it’s just a five hour drive, you can be adults/play nice with each other for five hours

You: when has Hangman ever been an adult about anything

Natasha: fair point

Natasha: but he is also currently texting me saying he’s stranded

Natasha: you know one-way car rentals are stupid expensive

Natasha: and he likes to drive so maybe you could sleep on the way

You: stop being logical

Natasha: i do not want to get a call from the nevada state police when you fall asleep behind the wheel on New Years Eve in the middle of the Mojave

You: good, add a guilt trip to the mix

Natasha: is it working

Me: …

You: it’s working

Natasha: (Ryan Gosling!Ken gif: SUBLIME!)

You: lol

You: ugh okay text me his number

Natasha: can’t believe that after 8 months stationed at the same base you don’t have his number

Natasha: mkay just sent

Natasha: you have to promise not to kill each other

Three hours later, you were really glad you hadn’t made any promises to Nat that you couldn’t keep.

Because not only had Jake insisted on renting a truck (“I need the legroom!”), and that you didn’t need to stop in Barstow for gas (“trust me, sugar, I’m an Eagle Scout–I know we can make it to east LA”), the gas-guzzling monstrosity had fizzled out somewhere between exits along the 15.

Now the hood was smoking, there was no way you were getting your security deposit back, and you were just as stranded as you’d been when you first texted Natasha from the airport.

Only now you were in the middle of the desert, and your phone was almost dead.

Four hours later, you had walked three miles back to the last exit and were checking into a truly shady motel, straight up refusing to talk to Jake because somehow, incomprehensibly, the only room available was one with one (1) king bed.

Four and a half hours later, you were dripping wet, trying not to shiver because the shower you took to warm yourself up had backfired, since the motel towels were basically handkerchiefs and your wet skin made the room seem extra cold. You hadn’t wanted to wear your airport clothes to bed, but since your luggage was already in San Diego, that left you with just a cropped tee and boyshorts.

“You okay in there?”

You glared at your reflection in the foggy mirror, since Jake was on the other side of the door.

The audacity of him.

When you’d first met Jake “Hangman” Seresin, you’d been determined to endear yourself to him.

He was a couple years older than you, and pretty close to infamous after that stunt he pulled in eastern Europe a few years ago. He was ruthless and reckless and good enough to get away with both, and you’d hoped that if you befriended him, he could teach you a thing or two during your own time at Top Gun.

And he was ridiculously beautiful, which maybe – maybe – had your admiration veering slightly into crush territory. But you’d locked that down, determined to view him platonically, and not let that get in the way of any instruction he could give.

Of course, the first words out of his mouth had been “Honey, you gotta know there’s easier ways to get your MRS degree than to become a naval aviator.”

Your crush and respect had evaporated on the North Island breeze, and it’d been downhill from there.

You had no idea why, but he had been openly antagonistic at any given moment since then — doubting your competence but disguising it as care for your safety, and tagging a misogynistic “sweetheart” at the end of every condescending sentence. You’d ignored him as much as you could, hoping he’d get that he wasn’t in Dallas anymore, and that shit didn’t fly with you, but that had only egged him on.

But now you were exhausted, cold, stranded in the middle of the desert, and practically naked to boot, and he had the gall to act like he cared if you lived or died.

“I’m fine, Hangman,” you said, swinging open the bathroom door and beelining for the bed, hoping you could get to it fast enough that Jake wouldn’t make a comment.

Or before your tits froze off, at least.

You didn’t look over at him as you dove under the covers, trying your hardest not to think about the last time these sheets had been washed, much less bleached.

Of course, the comforter was tucked into the foot of the bed, and you wrestled with it for a few moments before giving up, and hauling the topsheet up over your body. It was paper thin, but it was a semblance of covering, and you lay stock-still, closing your eyes and hoping sleep would magically deliver you away from this situation.

A moment later, the bathroom door opened and shut again.

You could hear the sounds of Jake brushing his teeth with the toothbrush and toothpaste you had bought from the “concierge” in the lobby (a relic of a man who looked like he did Civil War reenactments for fun, and seemed highly amused by your outrage at the available accommodations).

You would’ve passed the time on your phone, but the last of your battery had given up the ghost while you were in the shower.

A minute or two passed, and the bathroom door opened and closed. From behind your closed eyelids, you could hear Jake shuffle over to the lightswitch, and then he stopped.

You waited.

He didn’t move.

“What do you need, Seresin?” you asked, tersely.

“Are you cold?”

Your eyes popped open, wincing at the brightness of the lights, still overhead. A quick glance down at your body made your skin heat – your tee was skin tight, and the thin topsheet did little to cover you; you crossed your arms over your chest, hiding your pebbled nipples, continuing to stare at the ceiling and avoid eye contact with Jake.

“You could turn off the lights,” you muttered.

Technically, the cold wasn’t his fault.

But it was his stubbornness that got you here, so that had to count for something.

“I was just asking–” Jake started, and you interrupted him.

“It’s the desert in December,” you snapped, “yet, for some reason, this motel has the AC on; of course I’m cold.”

As if on cue, the machine in the windowsill rumbled to life.

You closed your eyes. “Please, just turn off the light.”

The light switch flicked off, and if it were anyone else, you’d have appreciated the immediacy of the response.

But it was Jake, and he didn’t merit any kind of gratitude, so you didn’t say ‘thank you’.

Silence stretched.

You heard a rustling, and a moment later, you felt something land on your upper body. You flinched, pulling the material away from you on instinct, and identifying it by touch as Jake’s sweatshirt.

You opened your eyes, peering through the shadows of the room. The curtains were thin (you were sensing a theme here), letting in lights from outdoors, and you found Jake still standing by the door. He was digging through his backpack, clad in a white tank and boxer shorts, apparently also not wanting to wear airport clothes to sleep, but that didn’t explain why he had chucked his sweatshirt at you.

“What is this?” you asked.

He looked up, shrugged slightly, and went back to rifling through his bag. “I run warm.”

You pursed your lips. “Jake, I–”

“I had a jacket on over it at the airport, okay? Promise, it’s not dirty.”

That hadn’t been what you were going to ask, but you paused all the same.

You appreciated that he was reassuring you, and you did remember that he’d been in a jean jacket at the airport. You’d noticed it against your better judgment, thinking he looked like an A-List actor as he walked through the airport towards you, all broad shoulders and smiles, like you were friends.

“Can I have a pillow?” His question interrupted your recollection, and you frowned in his direction.

You were clearly on half of the bed, Jake could see which pillows were for him to use. Did he expect you not to have one?

You pointed to the pillow you weren’t using, confused, and he laughed quietly.

It wasn’t a sound you heard much from him.

Normally Jake laughed like he was proud of himself, reclining in the golden light of the world around him, blessing you all with his presence. This was a different sound, less pretentious, somehow warmer.

“Yes, I can see it,” he said, his voice still amused. “But I need it over here, for the couch.”

You blinked.

The couch was maybe three feet long, an atrociously patterned aberration that you’d tossed your carryon onto, and not looked twice at. Jake didn’t explain anything further, but there were still only two pillows on the bed, and you couldn’t understand why he seemed to think you didn’t need more context for why he wanted to decorate the couch with one of them.

“Why?” you asked.

Again, that quiet chuckle.

“Because, sweetheart,” he said, and you bristled on instinct, “that’s where I’m sleeping.”

You couldn’t have heard that right.

“You’re not sleeping on the couch,” you said.

“You’re not sleeping on the couch,” Jake said, stubbornly.

“That was never up for debate,” you snorted. “Jake, we’re adults. We can share the bed. You’re not going to fit on the couch.”

“I’m an Eagle Scout,” he grumbled. “I can sleep anywhere.”

“Yes, loyal, brave, clean, etc, I’m sure,” you said. “But I’m not sure how helpful you’re going to be tomorrow, when you can’t drive that monstrosity of a truck due to your back spasming from being rolled up on that couch all night.”

You watched through the shadows as Jake stubbornly tried to wedge himself sideways on the couch. Sure enough, his knees were practically bent up to his navel, and even through the darkness, you could see the furrow in his brow.

“You could drive it,” he said, too obstinate to accept defeat.

“I will not,” you returned, “drive a vehicle that ostentatious.”

“Says the pilot,” he grumbled.

“Naval aviator,” you shot back. “Jake, it’s an enormous bed. Get over yourself, get into it, and the sooner you settle, the sooner it’ll be morning, and we can leave.”

He deliberated, the mulish man.

But eventually he pushed himself off the couch, clambering across the room. The bed dipped as he slid into it, and reached down for the comforter, still wedged into the bottom of the bed. You tried not to be annoyed when he yanked it free easily. It was probably just momentum, or that you’d loosened it up for him. While he was rearranging the comforter, you pulled the sweatshirt over your head, and tried to be calm about the situation.

His sweatshirt was somehow still warm.

It smelled amazing, like cedar and fancy cologne.

And also sweat, which you tried damn hard to ignore.

It was cozy, and you snuggled into it, and a moment later, Jake settled. Thankfully, the bed was big enough that you didn’t have to touch each other, but that didn’t mean you could ignore that he was there.

In bed.

With you.

You snorted, thinking how much of a dream this would’ve been to you eight months ago, before you met Jake, and he dashed your crush to pieces.

“What?” Jake grumbled, and maybe it was the proximity, or maybe exhaustion from the day was setting in, because his voice sounded almost gentle.

“Nothing,” you shook your head. “G’night.”

“Night,” Jake said.

You rolled onto your side, pulling your feet up under you, and folding your hands under your face, so you didn’t have to touch your skin to the pillow. Of course, that brought the sleeve of the sweatshirt to just under your face, and you were surrounded by the delicious smell of it again.

It distracted you for a moment.

Just a moment.

Then you had to acknowledge that, even with the sweatshirt and the newly-added comforter, your wet hair was no match for the chill of the room. Your legs felt exposed and the sheets felt like they were damp and wet, and you tried your best to ignore it, but soon you were shivering.

You tried to be still, you did.

But when you heard the bed shift as Jake turned towards you, you winced into the darkness, unsurprised.

“Sweetheart…” he started, and you shook your head, refusing to look back over at him.

“I’ll be fine, I just need to fall asleep.”

Jake let that statement hang for a moment, just long enough for your shivering to start up again. He cleared his throat.

“Um,” he said, and if you didn’t know better, you’d think he sounded nervous, “I meant what I said earlier. About running warm.”

This time, you did turn over, trying to read his expression in the shadowy darkness. He looked…open. Like he really was altruistically suggesting sharing body warmth, nothing malicious and none of his normal teasing.

You were suspicious, but not enough so that you could ignore that it was a better idea than freezing yourself to sleep.

“You sure?” you asked, and Jake grunted, which you figured was as good a response as any. Actually, it was pretty damn good, because if he sounded eager, you’d be creeped out, and if he was uncertain, you’d feel guilty. But being matter-of-fact about it gave you the courage to scoot across the bed.

“How do we do this?” you asked, and Jake reached for you. It was an easy movement, natural, enough so that it surprised you when he hesitated before touching you.

“Can I…?” he trailed off.

“Sure,” you shrugged, hoping you sounded half as unaffected as he did. This was fine, this was normal. Just a guy who was SO obnoxious that it made you forget how hot he was, suddenly not being obnoxious, and basically punching you in the face with his hotness.

His hand settled on the small of your back and damn it, he was warm. His touch was soft, gentle, almost nervous, and he pulled you closer to him. You realized you’d expected him to turn you over, press your back to his front so that you’d be spooned, but instead he just wrapped you in his arms. He reached around you to tuck the comforter between you and the mattress, insulating you with his warmth.

Your head was in his chest, and with his arms bracketed around you, your breath heated up the space between his tank and your face. He’d even managed to slot his arm under your head, so your face still wasn’t on the pillow.

Cuddling with someone new was usually awkward, a tangle of limbs and expectations, but with Jake, it wasn’t. It was…damn it. It was pretty close to perfect.

“Good?” he asked, and he sounded different, with your cheek on his bicep, and your nose practically pressed against his chest. It was like you could feel his voice, rumbling around you, somehow more comforting for the proximity.

You nodded, not wanting to hear anything new on your voice if you tried to respond.

Jake hummed.

A moment later, you realized his thumb was moving. Nothing major, just a small movement between your shoulder blades, a reassuring stroke. It was a comforting motion, gentle, and it wasn’t long before his warmth and his touch lulled you into a sweet sleep.

You startled awake to the sound of guns.

Not guns, fireworks.

Damn it, it was New Year’s Eve; how had you forgotten?

Jake stirred too, a deep breath expanding his chest, and leading you to realize his head was resting on top of yours, his chin tucked on top of the crown on your head.

“Is that–” he mumbled and how dare he, honestly, how very dare he, because he sounded great. Fuck him, for that, frankly.

The situation washed over you, half asleep and fully cognizant of how random it was. You didn’t mean to start, but soon you were laughing, your shoulders shaking.

“You okay?” Jake asked, a thread of concern in his voice, and that didn’t help any.

“Just the universe’s sense of humor,” you said.

You didn’t know how, but you knew he was confused and you should’ve been worried about how you knew that, how you weren’t cold at all, how if you looked up, you’d know what a sleep-mussed Jake Seresin looked like, but all you could think was that this was so, so stupid.

You took a long breath, starting to explain.

“I just can’t believe this is how I’m starting the next year of my life,” you laughed. “Like, I’m fine, right? I’m doing alright on a career path I love, I call San Diego home, I have great friends and I’m doing as good with my family as anyone could be. And where am I on New Year’s? Stranded in a motel off an exit that’s literally not even town, cold enough that a guy who hates me is cuddling me so I can be still enough for him to go to sleep, with a dead phone so none of my friends or family can wish me a happy new year, and I–”

“Wait,” Jake pulled back, and you frowned at the interruption, “why do you think I hate you?”

You stared at him. “Are you serious?”

“Uh, yeah,” Jake said, having the gall to look confused.

“Jake,” you said, disbelieving. “You’re literally constantly a jackass to me. You’re constantly undermining me, doubting or heckling. You throw in a – frankly overwhelming – amount of southern charm and expect that to distract from the fact that you’re being outrageously patronizing and—”

Jake kissed you.

You weren’t expecting it, and it was so sudden that it thoroughly cut off your train of thought. All you could do was comprehend fleeting sensations and emotions. Jake’s lips were soft, the pressure of them light and teasing against yours. His arms tightened around you, like he was steadying both of you. In the same way you’d sensed his confusion, now you sensed his apprehension, and an unfamiliar determination.

Just as quickly, he pulled back.

“I don’t–” his voice was rough, and he cleared his throat. “Christ, I don’t hate you.”

You licked your lips, annoyed that they had the audacity to tingle in response to him.

You wanted to ask what the hell that was.

You wanted to ask why he was looking at you like that.

You wanted to ask what that expression meant but more than anything, you wanted him to kiss you again.

Your arms were curled up between the two of you, and it took so little effort to curl your fingers in the front of his tank and pull him to you. His mouth was on yours a breath later, and his hand was on your jaw, angling your face so he could kiss you properly.

Of course he was a good kisser.

Fucking of course he was, he had to be, but it was one thing to know it in an agnostic kind of way, and another to feel his lips pressing into yours. You shivered when his tongue swept over your bottom lip and when you mirrored the motion, something in his chest rumbled, and Jake parted his lips for you.

He tasted faintly of toothpaste, and he had some kind of chapstick on his lips that was sweet, and you couldn’t get enough of him. His arms were still around you and he was so warm, so broad, and you couldn’t help but press yourself against him. When your arms wound around his neck, Jake broke away from you. You could feel his chest rising and falling quickly, and his hands fell from your back to your waist, as if holding you in place. He turned his head slightly, kissing lazily at the corner of your mouth, down your cheek, to your jawline.

“That’s not how I wanted to tell you,” he murmured against your skin, and this time when you shivered, you knew it wasn’t from the cold.

“You still haven’t told me,” you managed, eyelashes fluttering at the teasing brush of his lips, while you tried to look at him.

To your astonishment and delight, Hangman blushed.

Sheepish wasn’t an expression you were used to on him, not unlike bashful, but you thought it suited him. He looked like he was gearing up to say something and, curious though you were, you didn’t want to get into that right now. It was late, you were still exhausted, and just a few moments ago, you’d thought he hated you.

If his expression now was any indication, you and Jake had very different conceptions of flirting.

“Look,” you said, before he could say whatever he was hyping himself up to say, “this is probably a lot more complicated than either of us were prepared for. So, it’s the New Year…we could start it how we want the year to go.”

Jake’s shoulders relaxed slightly, and he smiled softly, a sweet expression on his face. He turned his head to kiss the palm of the hand you had looped around his neck.

“Cuddling,” he said, at the same time you announced,

“Orgasms.”

You would never forget the expression on his face.

Sweetness morphed into amazement, and then quickly into hunger.

“I can pivot,” he said quickly, and you lifted your chin.

“You sure?” you teased, “Don’t want to strongarm you into–”

Your sentence ended with a squeal when Jake turned quickly, flopping onto his back, and pulling you on top of him. Your knee was between his thighs and you couldn’t hold back your grin as you looked down at him. Just like with this kiss, he was letting you lead, but being so clear about what he wanted.

And who were you, to decline?

Kissing him from on top of him felt different, felt amazing.

You could appreciate how sturdy he was, and when you relaxed slightly, you found yourself straddling his thigh. You’d been a part of plenty of dogfight football scrimmages, and Jake was never one for longer board shorts; you knew exactly how strong his thighs were. But it was one thing to see them on display, and quite another to feel them flexing between your legs.

One of Jake’s hands was inching under his sweatshirt that you wore, warm fingers spreading across your stomach as you moved over him.

God, he felt so good, so few layers between his skin and your core, and the pressure of his thigh between your legs was so good. You kissed him again, tongues tangling and teeth clashing, as you ground against his leg.

When you moved, you felt the hem of his boxers slide against your leg, and sue a girl, you were curious. You shifted slightly, moving your thigh higher, and when you rocked your hips, your thigh brushed against his cock.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Jake gritted as you moved against him, and you thought maybe you didn’t mind the petname, when he sounded like that.

You braced yourself on the pillow behind him and moved again.

It shouldn’t be this hot.

But it was, he was, and you felt pleasure spooling through you, just from his leg between yours, and his gentle touch against your skin. How he reacted to you, how he moved under you, it was so good, like a promise.

“Not gonna lie,” Jake said, his voice still rough, “I really like you in my sweatshirt.”

Your mouth fell open when he pushed his hips up to meet you.

You both stifled a gasp at the motion, the sensation with so few layers between the two of you. Jake’s hands crept higher under your sweatshirt, almost tentative, and you leaned into his touch, encouraging. His hands cupped your breasts, and your head dipped to the side in relief. He made a sound of satisfaction, just enjoying their weight in his hand, then his wrists moved so his thumbs could brush over your nipples. He rolled them, and you felt it in your core, your thighs clenching.

“Love you in my sweatshirt,” Jake repeated, sounding dazed, “but I wanna to see you without it.”

You leaned back immediately, pulling the sweatshirt over your head.

You missed the warmth of it immediately, but Jake’s gaze was worth it. His expression bordered on reverence, and he actually licked his lips, looking up at you. You wiggled on his thigh, heat pulsing, needing something from him, your skin prickling under his gaze.

Jake frowned, the lust in his eyes overtaken by concern. “Too cold?”

You certainly weren’t toasty, but you couldn’t say you cared.

“I would’ve thought you’d have a solution to keep me warm,” you teased, and Jake seemed to accept the challenge.

The hands that had been on your breasts dropped to the back of your thighs, and a moment later he had pushed you back. You were on your back, feet in the air, and Jake turned you gently on the bed so you were resting on the pillows again. You settled in, expecting him to lower himself between your thighs, and were surprised when instead he reached back for the comforter.

Maybe you had misunderstood, he didn’t actually want…

He pulled the comforter over his head, over your shoulders, and you blinked disbelieving at a Jake-shaped figure under the blanket, moving to the base of the bed, between your legs.

You were fairly confident, but that was a lot to ask from someone on a first date, and this wasn’t even that, and you ducked under the comforter as well.

“Jake, you don’t have to–” you protested, realizing belatedly that there was nowhere near enough light to be able to make meaningful eye contact.

“You said orgasms, right?” Jake said, his voice full of a familiar smugness.

He settled at the base of the bed, crouching, and through the darkness, you could tell he was looking in your direction. His hands were intentional on your legs, letting you know where he was, giving you time to tell him if you weren’t okay with something.

If he was offering, you were beyond okay with this.

“Right,” you said weakly.

His hands trailed up your thigh, his warm touch light, and his fingers closed over the band over your boyshorts. You nodded, a sound he heard because your head rubbed against the comforter.

He kissed your thigh.

It was a feather light touch, a brush of his mouth against the sensitive skin, but it was so gentle that it reassured you. He kissed your other thigh, then higher, and one of his hands felt up to your stomach, and he pushed, an unsubtle prompt. You lay back against the mattress, nerves and desire warring within you as Jake kissed higher.

You felt a brush of his tongue when he reached the edge of your underwear and your breath caught.

“Plural?” Jake asked, and it took you a minute to understand his question.

His fingers pulled at the edge of your boyshorts, peeling them slowly down, his mouth pressing gentle kisses as he revealed more of your body. He was exploring by touch what he couldn’t see, so slow and perfect it was overwhelming.

“There’s two of us,” you managed, back to his question. “Hence plural.”

Jake laughed, a soft exhale against your skin. He’d bared you to him, and you shifted, like you were seeking his touch.

“I know this is new for us, sweetheart,” he mumbled, a kiss to your hipbone, then the opposite, “but that’s not how this is going to work.”

You bit your lip, nervous again.

You were new to this with him, and some guys thought oral sex was some kind of prerequisite – check the box, half ass it for thirty seconds, guarantee she’ll let you hit it – but something told you Jake would be different.

You were panting, anticipation making you breathless.

You whispered his name and it was like he was waiting for permission, because he leaned into you. His first kiss against your pussy was gentle, just as sweet as those kisses he’d trailed up your thighs. It was so sweet it made you squirm, and Jake chuckled, a sound you felt as his breath ghosted over you. He pulled back long enough to draw an audible breath, then his tongue licked over the whole of your cunt, a long, torturous swipe that had you trembling.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he said, muffled, and your hips bucked. “You’re already wet for me.”

You reached under the comforter, your hands tangling in his hair and Jake hummed his approval before following your prompting back to your pussy. He lapped at you, learning you, and when he trailed up to circle your clit with it, you couldn’t stop the cry that escaped you.

“That right, honey?” he asked, sounding smug, and he circled your clit with his tongue. You felt a hand slip from your hip to your entrance, rubbing over you as his tongue played with your clit. He kissed you, teased you, and when he pushed a thick finger into you while his lips closed over your clit, you moaned.

“Feels so good, Jake,” you cried, and you felt him shudder at your voice.

You heard it too, how wrecked you sounded, and it was his fault. Your hips were pushing up into him, chasing the suction of his mouth, the pull of his fingers. He was only a knuckle or so into you, but his finger was so wide, thicker than your own, and you moaned at the unfamiliar intrusion.

It was Jake between your legs, Jake’s wicked smile, sharp tongue, capable hands, Jake who was working you with his fingers and mouth. He felt so good, and your body felt like it was humming to a frequency he set.

You trembled as he sheathed a finger in you, you moaned when he sucked your clit, and when his teeth brushed over your clit, the pleasure coursing through you snapped. Your fingers in his hair tightened, and Jake groaned when you pressed your pussy harder against his face. He groaned like he wanted it, like he craved that reaction, and you came hard.

He coaxed you through it, gentle and steady as he’d been so far, and as you came down, you pulled slightly at his hair.

“Jake, that was–” you gasped, and you felt him laugh again.

“Honey, what part of ‘plural’ is so hard for you to understand?” he asked.

And he pushed another finger into you.

Your back bowed off the mattress; you were so sensitive and it made everything Jake did to you feel so much more.

His mouth traveled down to where his fingers were pressing into you, and he curled them into you. You heard an obscene slurping sound, and your eyes rolled back as you realized he was pulling your release out of you, tasting it from his own fingers.

“Like honey from a honeycomb,” Jake mumbled, his voice thick, and you whimpered at how he sounded.

A moment later, his lips closed over your clit again, and your head thrashed against the pillow.

“Jake, I just–” you panted, but he sucked again and you broke off on a moan. “I can’t, I just – fuck, give me a second– oh, that feels so good.”

Jake either didn’t hear you or he wasn’t listening.

He was following your body, the way your hips were pushing up into him, the way your cunt was clenching down on his fingers, and it was like he was drunk on the taste of you. He suckled on your clit, his tongue laving over you, stoking you higher again. He felt so good, and you were sure you were telling him, but you were fast losing confidence in your ability to form words.

You lost track of time, there was just pleasure, and the heat from Jake, and the way he was working your body.

“You gonna come for me again?” Jake coaxed, pulling back to blow a long stream of cool air over your clit. You flinched, you writhed, you would do whatever he wanted, as long as he didn’t stop. “I think you can do it, honey, it was so pretty the first time. This pussy is so good, doing such a beautiful job coming for me, tasting delicious and I bet you can do it again…”

Your legs felt limp as he licked over you again, tasting where his fingers fed into you, pumping them and pulling pleasure out of you. His tongue flicked over your clit, a maddening pattern, and when his lips closed, he sucked hard. It was so strong, so unreal, and you shook as you came again.

“Ah, there it is…That’s so good, sweetheart,” Jake soothed, and you weren’t sure if he was talking to you or your pussy, and you certainly didn’t know which was hotter.

He continued to stroke inside of you, his thick fingers pulling you through your orgasm, keeping you grounded, keeping your pleasure coming.

You weren’t cold anymore.

In fact, you were burning up, and Jake didn’t seem like he wanted to stop. The moment he felt coherency return to your posture, he dove back in. You genuinely didn’t think you could stand another orgasm from his mouth, and you let go of his hair – he wasn’t listening to you anyways – and flipped back the comforter.

God damn, he was so hot.

He looked up from between your thighs, the lower half of his face smeared with your arousal, and he fucking licked his lips, before smiling up at you. His hair was in complete disarray, and you could tell his whole upper body was flushed from overheating, and he looked so smug, so proud, and he had every right to be.

“C’mere,” you asked, and it was enough.

Grinning, Jake crawled up the bed, caging you with his arms again.

He hesitated, unsure what you were okay with, but you kissed him hungrily. You could taste yourself on his lips, on his tongue, and you felt a sort of possessive pride that it’d chased away the cloying sweetness of his chapstick.

Right now, Jake tasted like yours, and you were obsessed.

When he realized he could, Jake returned the kiss with enthusiasm, his tongue sweeping into your mouth.

Your hands smoothed over his back, curling in the hem of his tank and pulling it over his shoulders. Jake wouldn’t separate from your lips to let you pull it over his head and you giggled as he kissed you through it, like an infinity scarf. You felt up his back, hands delighting in the contours of muscles that you’d only admired from a distance, before you caught yourself.

He was so strong.

Warm and toned and big, intoxicating to think of him over you. Finally, he ducked his head to chuck off the shirt, and the motion lowered his hips to yours. You both groaned at the brush of his cock between your thighs, and then Jake was kissing you with fresh urgency. You hadn’t seen him yet, though he’d had his face in your pussy, and you reached between the two of you.

You felt him over his boxers, and Jake broke off the kiss at your touch, his head dropping to your shoulder. It was like he couldn’t contain himself, and his hips pushed into your touch. You explored the shape of him through the thin cotton, your own hips rocking into him on instinct.

Fuck, he felt big.

You felt a small bit of wetness near the fat head of him, and you moaned as your thumb rolled over the leaking precum, rubbing his sensitive head.

“I have a – shit,” Jake broke off, his hips rutting into your touch, and your head fell back. “I have a condom in my wallet.”

“Of course you do,” you teased, and it would’ve been more effective if you didn’t sound so needy about it.

You turned your head to press a kiss to his cheek, then scooted out of the bed.

The room felt freezing outside of the bed, but it was refreshing, as you darted over to his backpack. You found his wallet, and the condom inside it, and when you got back to the bed, Jake had only moved to push himself up. He was kneeling in the middle of the bed, and he shifted as he pulled off his boxers.

“Holy shit, Seresin,” you whispered, not even caring that your voice sounded reverent.

His cock was beautiful, thick between his thighs, bouncing parallel to the bed. Jake gripped the base of it loosely, like he had to do something while he watched you watching him, and you crawled back to the bed, still staring, kneeling so your knees almost touched his.

“Can I?” you asked, holding up the condom. “Please, sweetheart,” Jake said, his voice so gruff and gorgeous. You licked your lips and ripped the foil, but hesitated before you pulled it out.

“I’m clean,” you told him, sitting back on your thighs. “Um, we should still use this, but I just wanted you to know.”

Jake caught your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your head up to him. He kissed you quickly, short and sweet, and there was something unexpected in his eyes when he pulled back.

“Me too, sugar,” he said, his voice deep. “Thank you.”

You couldn't be sure what he was thanking you for, but you felt like you should be thanking him. For making sure you felt good, for thinking of a condom, for making you feel so cared for. So you tilted your head, reached between you to where he was loosely fisting himself, and replaced his hand with yours.

You pulled your hand loosely over him, obsessed with the warm feel of him, how thick he was in your hand, how heavy. Jake’s hands hovered like he wasn’t sure where you put them, and they settled on your upper arms, like he needed you to keep his balance.

It didn’t stop you from leaning down and guiding his tip towards your mouth.

Jake groaned, a beautiful, strangled sound, and it was lost to you when you first tasted him.

This wasn’t the proper angle for a proper blow job, and you wanted to feel him, but you were curious, and your tongue lapped at him. His skin was scalding hot, and a pearl of precum beaded at the end of his cock, like an invitation. You licked it into your mouth, moaning at the salty, rich taste of him.

Jake’s hand fell to the back of your head, not pushing, but like he needed to steady himself. You licked over him, acquainting yourself with him, learning the veins and sensitive spots, knowing you’d want to come back to them later. Too soon, Jake’s hand tightened in your hair.

You looked up at him, hoping he’d like the picture of you from this angle. His jaw clenched and his eyes fluttered shut, if that was any indication.

“Need to be inside you,” he ground out, and opened his eyes. “That mouth is so sweet, honey, gonna make this be over too soon. I want to feel that pussy.”

God, you wanted that too.

You pushed yourself back up, pulled the condom out, and rolled it over his thick length. His thighs were shaking, you noticed, and it filled you with something like tenderness. That he’d get you there twice, then let you play with him, then say “please”, like fucking you was a privilege.

When your hand reached the base of his dick, condom secured, he surged forward to kiss you. You swayed on the bed, kneeling in the middle of it, his hands cupping your face, yours on his waist. Both pulling, both needing to be closer, and when Jake lowered you back down, you followed his prompting eagerly.

He settled you back against the pillows, back how you’d been when he’d driven you to the stars with his tongue, but this time his handsome face was right over you. When he settled over you, you closed your eyes against the intensity of the moment. You were both fully naked, and it felt so heavenly to have so much of his skin pressed against yours. He was warm, strong, all around you, and you needed him in you too.

You spread your legs, letting him rest deeper between your thighs, and whimpering when his hot cock brushed against your stomach, then down.

“Don’t know how slow I can take this,” Jake said, like he expected you to have a problem with that.

“I want to feel you,” you told him, honestly. “Please.”

Jake kissed you again, pulling back to press his forehead to yours as he guided his dick between your thighs.

You’d had two orgasms.

You’d had his fingers and his tongue loosen you, you were plenty lubricated, but when Jake’s cock pressed against your entrance, you realized it hadn’t been enough.

“Holy shit, Jake,” you gasped, as his fat head pressed against your pussy, waiting for resistance to melt.

“Relax, baby,” he whispered hoarsely, “you can do it…You’re doing so good, just a little bit of give, come on…”

You whimpered at the new endearment, but there was no way. You felt needy, cloying. You could fit him, you knew it, but it felt—there.

He eased in, just a breath, and you felt like sobbing. It was so good, so overwhelming, so fucking tight, and you needed the rest of him.

“Jesus, honey, you’re so tight,” Jake said, he sounded choked, and you loved it.

“More,” you whimpered. “Please, Jake, want to feel you…you’re so big, I need more, please, please.”

“Honey, you can’t say things like that–” Jake gritted, your words driving his hips forward.

You could tell he was trying to go slow, but the feeling of him forcing his cock into you had your legs shaking. You wanted it, needed it, and if begging was the way to get it, begging you could do.

“Want to feel your thick cock, Jake,” you whispered, and he shivered. He was bracing himself against the headboard, and you could feel his arms shaking as he fought to keep from driving into you. “You feel so good, need to feel you so deep…want to come on your cock, please, Jake…come on and fuck me.”

He groaned like he was in pain, as he pressed deeper into you.

He was trying to go slow, trying to be gentle, but you wanted to be mindless, you wanted your whole being centered around the deep push of his cock. You wiggled your hips, and sighed as he sunk deeper.

“Thank you,” you breathed, and his hips punched forward again.

“Jesus, sweetheart,” he muttered, and you would’ve laughed, but you were too overwhelmed.

This was what you wanted, this was what you knew he could give you. Your hands dropped from his shoulders to your breasts, squeezing and massaging your breasts as he sank into you. You turned your head to look up at him, and found him staring, slack jawed, down at you in awe.

“You make me feel so good,” you coaxed him. “Please, Jake…fuck me.”

Jake growled, a sound that came from deep in his chest, and his hand fell between you to brush over your clit.

You jolted at his touch, your hips opening impossibly wider, and a hotter, stronger arousal racing through you than the steady, heavy press of him. Your hips bucked up, and you tweaked your nipples, working yourself up onto his cock rather than pressing him into you. It took a couple more burning minutes, and you were both coated in sweat by the time he was seated in you.

“Baby…” Jake breathed, his voice a dream and you had to resist the urge to purr. He was so warm, all around you, inside you, it felt like he was grounding you.

Then he moved.

His first pump had your back arching, your knees jolting up, your eyes flying open. Fuck, how did he reach that part of you, how was there room, how were you–

Jake laughed, a deep, dark sound.

“That's what you wanted, sweetheart?” he asked, and he moved again. You cried out, overwhelmed, perfect.

“This what you were begging for?” Jake grunted, between strokes, “This what you were asking so prettily for, and now you have me, and what’s that, baby, can’t find your words? What’s wrong?”

Nothing was wrong, not a damn thing, but you couldn’t summon the wherewithal to tell him. All you felt was pleasure, pounding and sweeping, full and as good as eternal.

“This pussy is so fucking tight, sweetheart,” Jake swore, his head lowering to kiss down your neck. He sucked at the skin there savagely, needing a distraction, and you clenched around him, when his lips closed over your pulse point. “Pulling me in, so tight and warm. You look so good around my cock, honey, you wouldn’t believe… Like a dream, like a fucking wet dream, but you’re here, stretched around me, taking me so good…”

You moaned as he found a rhythm.

The headboard was banging against the wall with the strength of his thrusts, and he pounded into you. There was so much he hadn’t said, so much he couldn’t say, but he pushed it into your body, swore it to you. He soothed it over your clit with his thumb, he promised it with his thick, heavy cock inside of you, and you felt yourself falling into it.

“Please, Jake,” you managed, begging again. You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything other than take the harsh fucking he was giving you, and craving it, needing it.

“What’d’ya need, honey,” Jake groaned. “You have me here, so fucking deep, never felt this good, this right—what do you need, baby, tell me, whatever you need.”

Had the room been dark? Surely it’d always been bright light, sparking, blinding.

Pleasure was rolling over you, suffocating, live-giving and you shook your head, moaning with every thrust of Jake’s hips. The only words you could manage were his name, and please, and it seemed to spur Jake on further. His thumb pressed hard into your clit as his hips sped up, and you felt the wave inside you cresting.

“You’re close, honey, I can feel it, can feel how hard this cunt wants to come. Are you gonna do it, baby? Milk this cock, make it even tighter around me, want to feel that, need to feel your pussy twitching around me, sugar, please come…”

Your orgasm shattered over you, blinding and perfect. Your throat felt hoarse from your moans, or your breathlessness, but everything heightened. You felt like you were breathing with Jake, felt every hitch and gasp and shudder as he coaxed you through it. You felt like you were suspended in space, like the only thing there was was Jake’s arms around you and his cock within you and you needed, you needed, him to come.

“Come in me, baby,” you whispered, your voice watery. “Need to feel you, want to feel how you’d fuck me to fill me, please, Jake, it’ll feel so good.”

“Fuck,” Jake shouted hoarsely, his hips thrusting harshly into you. “Oh, sweetheart, you feel too good, you’re so tight around me… I need to come, need to feel– fuck –”

You could feel his thighs shaking, his back tensing, and you turned your head to kiss him as he came. He moaned into your mouth, his whole body jerking as he emptied into the condom. You felt how strong he came, felt how thoroughly it worked through him, and it filled you with pride and satisfaction as he collapsed over you.

You knew he meant to push himself to your side, but you didn’t let him go.

You were just as boneless.

You both lay there, a sticky, sweaty, mess, panting. It was like a dream, a daydream crossed with a fantasy. You were warm, comforted, sated, and the room was still cheap, the motel was still sketchy, but you were suddenly quite alright with this start to the year.

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