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#hozier big hands
fvckingwolfstar · 6 months
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You Forgive Me Yet?
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pairing: top! Hozier x fem! reader
summary: he teases you and makes it up to you
genre: smut 18+
word count: 837
cw: the slightest bit of exhibitionism, teasing, calling him an asshole, oral (f! receiving), begging if you squint, bickering
author’s note: a shorter one that i might make a part two to! Also this video makes me s(cream), wanted to share.
smut under the cut
“Almost ready?” Andrew calls, fixing his hair in the mirror.
You finish your makeup and pull up your dress to sit right on your chest, “Yeah, I’m done,” you say, walking to the door to slip on your shoes. He follows you and kisses your head softly.
“The restaurant is always crowded, so I don’t think anyone will recognize us,” he hums, wrapping your jacket around you. “Lets go, love.”
You nod and take his arm, walking out to the car with him. He drives to the restaurant, the two of you humming along to the radio and chatting. When you arrived to the restaurant the two of you were seated almost immediately. You were sat beside each other in a booth, some of his friends in the booth beside you.
As you ordered your food, he reaches over and puts his hand on your thigh. You don’t really notice, he does that all the time, but when his hand starts making it’s way to the hem of your dress, your breath gets caught in your throat, so you cough to distract from it.
Andrew’s large hand creeps further up your thigh, before landing at the crease between your thigh and your hip. You choke a bit on your water as it gets there. His slender fingers tease over your aching core as you try to keep your composure and make small talk with the people beside you. As you keep up this act, you can feel Andrew’s eyes boring a hole into you.
Your fork clatters to the table as he slips his fingers under your underwear.
“You alright, y/n?” he asks, feigning concern.
“Yeah, yeah I’m okay,” you say, picking up your fork up again. A blush creeps from your face to under your dress as he rubs your clit at a snail’s pace.
He continues teasing you, killing you from the inside until the end of dinner. You’ve been on the edge of coming for at least ten minutes, and he’s refusing to help you at all. After the dinner, the two of you walk to your car in silence. When your both inside you turn to him, “What the fuck, Byrne?” I ask angrily.
“What’re you talking about, love?” He asks obliviously. He steers the way home with one hand on the wheel and another returned to your thigh. You can see a hint of a smirk resting on his lips
“You fucked with me all night, you dick!”
He chuckles softly, “Oh, that?”
“‘Oh, that?’” You mock, “Asshole, you’re making this up to me when we get home.”
“How do you suggest I do that?”
“You’ll fucking figure it out if you want me to forgive you,” He chuckles lowly and pulls into the driveway.
He gets out first and goes to open your door. His hand in yours he leans down to kiss your cheek, “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll make it up to you,” you get that fluttering feeling in your stomach when he does that. You try to hold back a smile as he pulls you inside, peppering kissing on you as he does.
Once inside, he closes the door, pushing you up against it, “I’ve been wanting you since we got up this morning,” he hums against your neck, nipping at it playfully. You lean your head back, moaning at the sensation.
He kisses down your body until he’s kneeling in front of you. He pushes your dress up and kisses your thighs, “Is this okay?” you nod frantically and pull the elastic out of his hair quickly. He chuckles as you shake his waves out with your hands and take a hold of it. He sucks hickies into your thighs, pressing soft kisses to them as he finishes each one.
He kisses your clit softly through your underwear before hooking his fingers in the waistband. He pulls them down slowly and mumbles, “So pretty,” he kisses your lower stomach, making his way to your heat. His strong hands grip your hips, keeping you in place as he teases you with his tongue.
“You teased me already today, you asshole,” you whine, gripping his hair tighter, “please, just do it.”
He dives in, sucking your clit into his mouth. He groans against it, making you buckle against the door. He holds you against the door with more force, licking slowly strips against it. He rotates from sucking, to slow stripes, to flicking it quickly with his tongue. All the movements and changes making you tear up slightly from the stimulation. Your grip tightens on his hair and he whines softly against you.
You shake as you come on his face. He continues his ministrations before you pull him off by his hair. He leans back on his calfs and looks up at you, he lips wet and red and his eyes glinting. “You forgive me yet?”
You chuckle tiredly and lean down to kiss him softly, “Yes, but you’re still an ass.”
He shrugs, “I can live with that.”
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daddysfavlittlegirl · 2 months
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I NEED MORE HOZIER FICS. HOW COULD YOU NOT WRITE ABOUT HIM. I WOULD DO IT BUT, (YALL I have a 28 in English) PLS GIVE ME SOMETHING. HE SINGS ABOUT WOMEN AND WAR AT THE SAME TIME. THATS HOT. HE’S TALL AND HAS LONG HAIR AND BIG NICE HANDS. AND HOT😩. YALL WHEN I HEAR HIS MUSIC I GO WEAK IN THE KNEES.
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SOMEONE HELP ME GET HIM. 😝😝
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introvert-time-art · 10 months
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fucking HOZIER being on crowley's canon playlist is just too much for me i think im in denial
and TAKE ME TO CHURCH??? OF ALL OF THEM??? prime is trying to explode us all with this so that we're all dead before there's a possibility of a season 3 im onto them
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rimouskis · 7 months
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I'm going to preface this story by saying: I don't necessarily believe in karma, but
I may have been walking through today with a vague sense of disbelief tainted with unkind smugness after my tiktok fyp was flooded with poor fans who tried to get presale ticket to one mr n. kahan's new tour only to find that demand was through the roof and GA pit tickets were seriously going for $300, in presale, and even the "worst" tickets in the lawn were going for $70
and while I undoubtedly think it's deeply unethical for both platforms (thanks ticketmaster) and artists to allow such dramatic ticket cost inflation, I also generally don't relate...
I (VERY LUCKILY) gravitate towards smaller acts, and the most I've paid for a ticket all year has been, like... $90 for a ticket to beyonce, which got cancelled and I was refunded lol. if I look back at all my receipts from shows this year, most have been around $50/ticket after fees, and several have been closer to $20. my favorite show I've seen all year was a $15 ticket.
it's mostly luck—I tend to like smaller acts, and I've been seeing mainly rock acts this year, and those tickets simply don't run as high as pop acts. and part of me is honestly very grateful that I haven't been swept into any of the really recent huge acts.
I think of all the people scrabbling for boygenius or taylor swift tickets and how much money they've had to shell out... how a lot of them don't even GET to see the acts they want to see because they've been priced out or tickets sold out. I can't remember the last time a show I wanted to go to sold out lol. maybe bastille in london?
and again, it's just a matter of luck that I'm not really into any of these megastars and therefore don't have to compete in the gladiator arena to try to see shows I want to see, but sometimes luck manifests as a feeling of self-satisfaction, you know? who among us hasn't experienced a little self-superiority from time to time.
look, if YOUR tiktok was flooded with people saying concerts have been awful since 2021 (including rock and metal shows), but every concert YOU'VE been to since 2021 was amazing and the crowds were really good and you always got tickets and it never broke the bank, you'd feel pretty validated in your choice of musicians and the crowds they attract too, alright?? sue me! I felt frugal AND undeservedly clever!
anyways back to karma. guess who got invited and subsequently agreed to shell out $70 to sit in a lawn and listen to mr. n. kahan sing. I'll give you a hint, her tumblr username starts with an r and ends with an s
#I KNOW LIKE. A SINGLE ONE OF HIS SONGS.#the thing about me is I'm earnestly really good at not judging other ppls music taste because:#I have a whole 1000-song playlist dedicated to music I love but don't play for other ppl bc I regard it as my Fun Time No Taste Music#and it's not that it's bad it's just not as curated as I prefer my music showed to other people lol#and that means I don't judge people for getting really into a band that doesn't do it for me personally#but. I will admit that I have that deeply annoying personality trait wherein if a billion people get into something...#for unknown reasons my own desire to learn about and get into that thing plummets. hashtag hipster. hashtag annoying#so that's kinda why I've never explored a lot of mega-popular musicians#(see: hozier; mitski; boygenius; taylor swift; one direction; noah kahan; etc etc)#+ obviously I don't make quality judgements off of that. I've heard some hozier songs. he's very good. I like handfuls of TS and 1D's music#but I don't have the drive to Also Get Into It#which means I never have to fucking melee for tickets in the queue ahaha and I am very grateful for that#but idk. I think there's something to be said for purposefully seeking out midsize or small acts. I don't really like stadium shows!#my fave concert this year had less than 100 attendees and the lead singer walked right off the stage into the crowd#everyone was chill and gave him space (this was the friday pilots club show)#and I think I can compare it to big vs. small fandom#small fandoms tend to be well-behaved bc everyone knows everyone and beef poisons the whole space lol#and also it's a matter of numbers! the more people who are in a space... the higher likelihood someone's an asshole#and I've been in tiny fandoms that blew up (hellooooo omgcp) and saw that happen firsthand#and I sort of suspect that rule holds true for concert spaces/music fanbases! more people = more variables = higher likelihood of foolery#hell I think of when I was really into 2010s alt rock DURING the 2010s and had to deal with assholes at alt j concerts hahahah#and it was just because I *was* into the music that WAS of-the-time in 2015!!!!#and now as an agèd 20something who likes metal shows I'm just chilling and watching pits form at lowkey 1400-capacity venues#because that's the scene! and I'm not in the thick of it with the current Music Of The Hour#anyways all this is to say that I don't think noah kahan is bad or untalented or unworthy of seeing!!!!#clearly he is if I'm going to fork over $70plusfees to see him with my friend#it's just that I'm grateful my tastes have veered into the cheaper side of the music industry.#I think I'd keel over if my favorite artist was TS and I had to deal with. all that. to go see her.#stronger than the marines etc etc
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upsidedownwithsteve · 19 days
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Steve Harrington x fem!reader 18+
[3.4K] title from ‘too sweet’ by hozier, just a stressed out steve, a willing girlfriend and a lot of filth. written in two hours and not edited in the slightest i’m sorry do not perceive me.
As sour as Steve had looked when he came home from work, he tasted twice as sweet.
He’d called you on his lunch, voice strained and low and you could picture the stitch between his brows, the downturn of his lips as he grumbled to you down Family Videos landline.
Robin was off sick, Keith was in a foul mood, two kids came in and stole a copy of a porno that was sitting behind the desk and the return pile sat at the height of Steve’s waist.
“Can’t wait to come home,” he had sighed down the line, voice rough and mournful and making your thighs squeeze together just right. “Wanna see you so bad, y’know?”
And you did know.
It seemed to take an age before you heard his car pull into the driveway, brakes squeaking slightly because the rent on the apartment came before any repairs to the BMW now. It’s why you’d poured a whisky for him, neat and no ice, no water, just the way Steve liked it. You considered dinner, home cooked and waiting on the kitchen table but something else took hold in your thoughts.
You could order pizza later.
So Steve came in the door with his shoulders slumped and his keys rattling from his fingertips, his green work vest already discarded and probably balled up in the backseat of his car. That frown was there, the one you’d wanted to soothe away all day for him, creasing at his brows, turning down the corners of his soft and pretty lips.
He thawed when he saw you, barefoot and in an old sweater that was too big for you, legs naked and your skin still warm from the shower you’d taken your time in. Steve held out a hand, groaning in delight when you stepped to him, all soft smiles and softer sweater, allowing him to pull you into his chest. His noises were doing things, rough sighs and low moans that made you think with what was between your legs, his purrs vibrating from his chest to yours as he curled his arms around your lower back.
It was easy to return the affection, pushed onto your tiptoes as you carded your hands into the hair at the nape of his neck, the smell of his cologne that you watched him spray that morning barely clinging to his skin. You nosed at his throat anyway, everything about him smelling like home and when Steve let out a low grunt at your adoration, you used one hand to pull at his jaw, bringing his lips to yours.
It was more than an average kiss ‘hello’. In fact, it made his brows shoot upwards and his breath hitch, the arm still around your waist faltering before he caught up with the pace you had set and tucked you in tighter to his body. He let you lead, eyes fluttering shut as he sighed softer than he had all day, letting you steal the noise and keep it for yourself.
Steve fell pliant for you, pretty lips giving in to yours as you kissed him slow, needy, lazy. Your tongue traced the seam of his mouth, teasing, testing, his breath ragged when he opened for you, trying to catch up. You pulled away then, pleased with the rosy cheeks and blown out pupils that stared back at you.
“Go sit down,” you told him, voice soft, quiet. There was a spell cast, not to be broken, not until Steve did too. “I’ll be through in a second.”
If Steve knew what you were up to, he didn’t say. No questions asked, the boy blinked and stumbled into the doorframe before righting himself, heading for the sofa. You’d long switched the television off, the lamp by the armchair dimmed low, the candles you liked to collect all lit and scattered across the coffee table and the fireplace mantle.
You returned with his whisky, the glass glinting amber in the candle light, your smile too coy. Steve raised his brows as you handed him his drink, his gaze too caught on your bare legs. He reached out for you, warm palm travelling up the back of your thigh, wide enough to curl around it and bring you between his knees.
Exactly where you planned to end up.
“What have I done to deserve this, huh?” He asked, whisky on one hand as he leant his chin on the soft of your stomach, eyes wide and dark as he looked up at you.
You scoffed, soft and light, your hands carding through his hair. You pushed it from his forehead, nails scratching at his scalp, beaming when he closed his eyes like he couldn’t help it, lashes fluttering against the tops of his cheeks. “What? Bring you a drink?”
Steve hummed, distracted. “Was thinkin’ more along the lines of deserving you.”
Love sick, that’s what you felt. An awfully sticky thing that glued itself to your heart at his words. You didn’t know what to say, especially not when he was looking at you like that again, all brown sugar eyes, honeyed and soft. So you bent instead, nose bumping his before you stole another kiss, gentler than before, lingering and as sweet as him.
You let him take one sip of his whisky before you dragged his shirt from his body, hair wild as you pulled it over his head, cheeks flushed and eyes surprised.
“What—?”
You didn’t respond, merely dropping to your knees instead and popping the button on his Levi’s. Steve swore, a dirty, throaty sound that made your stomach flip because you knew that he knew where this was going.
“Baby,” he groaned. “Fuck. You don’t have to do that—”
The sound of his zipped caught in the air, the rest of the evening quiet. The closed curtains and the flicker of the candle light made the small living room feel even tinier, a warm bubble where you could hear every little noise Steve made for you. His hand travelled up your forearm, fingers curling at your elbow and squeezing. Steve looked half gone already, lip parted and shiny from your previous kisses and you knew he’d taste like cedar and smoke now.
“What if I wanna?” You told him, pouring, just a little. Because what man could resist a pretty thing like you on your knees, lips soft and begging? You pushed yourself up, leaning into the space between his hips, your mouth skimming along his jawline, tongue licking into the corner of his mouth all sweet. It was barely a kiss, but it was somehow dirtier. “What if I told you I wanna make you feel better? That I’ve been thinking about your cock in my mouth all day?”
Steve groaned, falling into you, head on your shoulder, teeth biting down on the junction of your neck. “Fuck— baby. Baby, y’cant, you can’t just say shit like that.”
You grinned, amusement hidden from him as Steve continued to mouth at your throat, nose nudging down the collar of your sweater so he could kiss more skin. “I can’t?” You asked.
“Gonna make me lose my fuckin’ mind,” he mumbled. He lifted his head then, cheeks pink and eyes looking heavy lidded, pupils black and too big. He looked delirious on you. You watched his Adam’s Apple bob as he swallowed heavily, tongue licking at his lips. “You really been thinking about that?”
You nodded, making your eyes a little too wide, too innocent, bottom lip tucked between your teeth and it was a cheap shot, an easy target— but fuck, it worked every time. Steve’s hand slid to your ass, lifting your sweater out of his way and squeezing a plump cheek, only your underwear to be found underneath.
“So can I?” You whispered, mouth parted, brushing against his. You shared your breath with him, nose pushed to his warm cheek, hands coasting over his thighs as you prepared to tug down those too tight jeans.
Steve sounded too breathy when he answered but he still played your game, too far gone or not. He was watching your mouth when he spoke, transfixed by the pink gloss there, the way he could see your tongue between them. “Can you what, honey?”
You smirked.
Steve knew what you were asking. He just wanted to hear you say it again.
“Can I suck your cock?”
You heard it then, the hitch in his throat, the too harsh exhale. Steve looked at you like you were everything, like you’d hung each star and you were ever wet dream all at once. Lips pressed together to deal in his moan, his filthy words, he nodded, hair falling into dark eyes. And when he trusted his voice, albeit rougher and lower than before, he spoke.
“Yeah, honey, go ‘head.” He lifted his hips when you tapped them, jeans and boxers shoved down just enough for his cock to spring free, already hard and hitting his stomach. “You’re so— you’re so fucking sweet, y’know that?”
You smiled, all coy, faux shyness as you leaned your cheek onto his thigh, denim and coarse hair against your skin. Steve gasped when you wrapped a small hand around him, fingers barely meeting around his girth and you stroked once, twice. “I am?”
You didn’t give him a chance to answer before your tongue followed, a lazy, wide lick from the base of him to his tip, already dark pink and slick for you. Steve’s hips canted up, head thrown back against the cushions and you adored the way you got to watch his jaw tense, neck straining as he calmed himself down.
“God,” he blew out a breath, eyes trained on the ceiling because if he looked down and saw the way you were kissing a line up his cock, he’d fucking lose it. “Yeah, baby. The sweetest, Jesus Christ.”
You took it easy on him then, easing him into it until his shoulders sagged and his head tipped back up, his pretty face more flushed than ever but Steve watched you as you took him into your mouth, his jaw unhinged as you sucked the tip of him, licking over his head.
His hand found the back of your head, holding but not pushing and he groaned something fierce when you scratched at his bare thighs, nails dragging over the muscle there. “Tha’ s’it,” Steve moaned, unabashed, totally gone. “Keep suckin’ me, honey, yeah— please. Can you take more, huh? Take a little more for me, please, baby.”
You didn’t need to be asked, begging or not, but it certainly made it all that sweeter. Steve’s hand was cupping your jaw, thumb stroking over the corner of your mouth as you widened it, tongue licking out over his cock as you took more of it into your mouth, inch by inch until he was touching the back of your throat. It made the boy go a little wild, gasping and panting, curses mixed in with praise that was filthy enough to make your own toes curl.
“Holy shit, jus’ like that, yeah,” Steve was slurring, words meshed together in a quick mumble, his breathes too heavy for him to care. “You feel me in your throat? You’re so fuckin’ good for me, babe, Christ— yeah, yeah, lemme see your tongue, yeah. Stick it out for me, honey, oh shit—”
You did as asked, pulling back with wet eyes and warm cheeks, your lips shiny from your efforts. You kept a hand around Steve’s cock, slowly pumping him as you stuck your tongue out flat. You knew what he wanted, it was why his cheeks were so pink, the tips of his ears too. Something he found too vulgar to ask for, always scared you’d shy away from it.
You never did.
You tapped the head of his cock against your tongue, the wet slapping sounds nothing but pure filth, your own breathy noises too much for him. Steve could barely keep it together, eyes screwing shut as he bucked upwards, swearing and groaning something awful as he watched his cock slide over your tongue. You let him move, hips thrusting as you held him to your mouth, parted lips slipping over his shaft, and warm tongue tracing the throbbing vein down the length of it.
“M’gonna come,” Steve gasped and he was shaking his head, hips pressing back down into the safety of the couch and he sounded overwhelmed, eyes glassy. “Fuck, no, no, no— I—”
“No?” You pouted, understanding. Pulling away, you leaned up again, wet lips sliding over Steve’s and he kissed you feverishly, tongue licking into your mouth to search for your own. He groaned, whining when you squeezed a hand around his cock. “Too much? You don’t wanna come yet, huh?”
Steve shook his head, hair falling into his eyes and his chest was heaving, his hands curling around your sides and he was pulling at your sweater, lifting it from your frame. “No, no— shit, not yet, please.”
You let him strip you, sweater discarded by his own shirt and your bare chest only made him swear a little more, eyes on your tits, your peaked nipples and suddenly he wanted nothing more than his cock between them. He felt drunk, delirious, suddenly too happy to care about how quickly he came.
“You’re gonna kill me,” he told you with a very serious expression. His hands travelled up, palms cupping your breasts, thumbs flicking over each nipple with careful precision. “M’gonna die and it’s gonna be because of you and your mouth and those tits and—” Steve choked on a laugh when you did, lashes fluttering as you took his cock back in your hand. “—and m’gonna be a very, very happy man.”
Grinning, you rolled your eyes at his declaration, as dramatic as they were. He was as hard as steel in your grip, his hips rolling up into your touch and didn’t want to wait much longer, his poor cheeks bright red with the exertion of holding back. So you gave him a kiss, light and sweet, too sweet for the current situation but it made Steve all the more wild. You were murmuring low and soft to him, holding his cock to your tits as you stroked him, words whispered between cute little pecks at his lips, his warm cheeks.
“Steve?”
“Hmm?”
“You wanna come, handsome?”
“Mhmm.” A whine more than a word. “Please.”
“Where do you wanna come?”
A swear, guttural and hoarse. A twitch of his dick at the thought of his options. “Fuck, I— uh, I dunno.”
“Here?” You asked him sweetly, pushing his length between your breasts, rubbing your own nipple so he could watch it harden again. “All over here? Paint me nice ‘n pretty?”
Steve couldn’t form words now, which was exactly what you’d wanted.
Your mouth made its way to his ear, voice dropping lower than before. “My mouth?” You whispered. “D’you wanna come in my mouth, Stevie?”
A jerk of his hips, a whine and a grunt as his cock kicked up once more. He was so fucking close. Steve let his forehead fall to your shoulder, too hot and too helpless and too fucking desperate. He clung to you, hands wrapping around your bare waist and he didn’t know what he wanted more. He could sit back and watch you drop back down to your knees, pushing your pretty tits together as he jerked himself onto them, knowing he could watch the way he dripped down your body.
Or he could get you to open your mouth, pink tongue back out and waiting, you doe eyed and watching him. He always got dirty with that, asking you in the sweetest voice to let him see it all in your mouth, asking you to swallow it like a good girl before showing him your clean tongue after.
If Steve didn’t choose he was going to fucking explode.
So he tugged at your waist, gasping as he wrenched himself from you, falling back into the sofa. He took his aching cock in his own hand, pumping it once before squeezing tightly, willing away the need to come right there and then. He patted his knee, his eyes glassy and hooded as he looked at you.
“C’mere, baby, come sit.”
You did as told, happily, easily, willingly. Your own chest was thundering, excitement itching at your too warm skin because whatever Steve wanted you’d give him. Your thighs were slick, underwear sticking to your folds in the most obscene way because Steve’s sounds were too much to cope with without being touched too. He looked a riot, the prettiest kind. His hair mussed and cheeks flushed, lips pink and slick from your kisses, his eyes a little wild.
He helped you onto his lap, legs spread over his knees and his dick standing hard and to attention between you both. You waited patiently for his instructions, to hear what he wanted from you and Steve let his head fall back onto the cushions once more as he watched you from hooded lids. His jaw was flexing with each stroke he gave himself, hazy gaze roaming over your tits, your stomach and then lower.
And then—
“Lemme see you, baby?”
Your stomach flipped. A sweet voice, a prettily asked question, some filthy words. You smiled at Steve, lips twisting to hide your absolute glee because you knew what wanted, what he wanted to do and you were more than happy to give it to him.
You didn’t say anything as you hooked your fingers into the crotch of your underwear, gasping a little at how wet they actually were. You tugged them aside, white cotton stretched over your skin as you held the material away from yourself. With your spread thighs, you let Steve have the filthiest view, all glistening skin, a swollen clit between wet folds. You didn’t look down, you didn’t have to. You could hear the slick, fast sounds of Steve fucking his own fist, his frantic, hitched breaths.
“That’s it, yeah,” he sounded gone, drunk. “So good—”
Instead you watched him watch you, his eyes set on your pussy, gaze on fire as he enjoyed the show and when you swept your fingers over the centre of your folds, Steve swore, his free hand on your thigh clutching you tighter.
“Dirty girl,” he murmured, his teeth catching his bottom lip. He was close, you knew he was. “Such a pretty pussy, Jesus Christ, can’t believe I was gonna come without gettin’ to see her.”
You hummed, all delight and amusement. You cocked a brow even though Steve was still staring at your spread legs. “I’m dirty?” You cooed. “You’re the one who’s gonna come all over my cu—”
And he did.
Steve came with your name on his tongue, making it sound like the dirtiest, holiest thing you’d ever heard. He was gasping, choked sounds leaving his pretty lips as he fucked his fist, come spilling over his knuckles and onto your folds, leaving you and your underwear even stickier than before. His head fell back onto the sofa as he caught his breath, an impossible thing with his heaving chest but you curled into him almost immediately.
You let go of your stretched out underwear, your own breath hitching when you felt the warm, stickiness cling to your cunt. Steve pulled at you as you moved closer, your hands soothing over his jaw and cheeks, thumbs rubbing over his flushed skin as he kissed you, head lifting lazily, moaning at your touch, your lips, the feel of your bare stomach pressing his half hard cock to his own.
He was sticky with it all, with sweat, his own release, your affection and touch.
It was too much and entirely not enough, not of you.
Steve’s lips clicked as he pulled them away from your own, albeit grudgingly. You tasted sweet, like strawberry lipgloss and him. He was still panting when he spoke, his messy hand held away from you as he took your chin in his other. His thumb pulled at your bottom lip, swollen from all your efforts and he watched the way it popped back into place, making you smile.
“M’gonna finish my whisky,” he mumbled softly, eyes searching yours. He was met with excitement, knowing, a whole lot of adoration and fondness that he felt for you too. “You’re gonna check my pulse—” you laughed, too bright and joyous for the gloomy light of the room. Steve grinned, cheeks aching. “And then we’re gonna go upstairs and I’m gonna return the favour.”
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seonghwaddict · 1 month
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the lamb and the wolf — park seonghwa
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in which all he wanted was someone to love in his dark, lonely world… and then you came along.
hades!park seonghwa x fem!reader. genre. strangers to lovers. fluff. smut. warnings. he’s literally obsessed with mc, ankle injury, alcohol consumption, mention of cannibalism as a metaphor for love but it’s not really explicit, mc is described as innocent, explicit sexual content mdni, oral (f. receiving), unprotected, soft dom!hwa, big dick!hwa, praise, creampie. wc. 7.2k. rating. mature.
lilo’s notes. i’ve been working on this for two-ish months and i’m so happy to finally share it. writing this was fun, i love writing men infatuated with their lovers <33 the letter he reads does not belong to me and comes from “Albert Camus, María Casares. Correspondence (1944-1959)” which is a collection of love letters sent between camus and casares. this particular one is letter #95.
listening to. from persephone, kiki rockwell // sunlight, hozier // liquid smooth, mitski // cinnamon girl, lana del rey // nothing’s gonna hurt you baby, cigarettes after sex
masterlist.
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the realm of the dead was terribly dark and cold and, as the name would suggest, barren of life. for seonghwa, the ruler of the underworld who had spent thousands of years in the realm, this hadn’t been a problem before. yet, he couldn’t deny the temptation of the distant sounds of chirping birds and gentle breezes humming through the air above.
he was, of course, free to leave whenever he wished to but more often than not he was busy—ruling over the souls that had passed or meetings with nymphs and the other deities. there had never been an inclination to explore, but somehow he found himself taking curious steps out of the cave entrance to his world.
and that’s where he saw you.
you weren’t a long way away from the entrance to the underworld, idling in a meadow and picking flowers and berries in a woven basket. the sunlight glinted off your rich skin, glistening on you manicured nails as your hands tended to the plants. the slow wind wafted through your soft-looking hair, making it dance in the air. he was entranced by the way the skirt of your dainty silk dress flowed as you moved around, hypnotised by the ivory fabric folding and brushing against your ankle with every step. you were beautiful in every sense of the word—but not the soft and comforting kind. no, not at all. in fact, he was quite alarmed by the notion of being so infatuated with a mortal at first glance.
seonghwa knew he was doomed from the moment he laid eyes on you. he wanted nothing more than for you to glance his way, willing to split himself in half or carve his heart right out of his chest to get a second of your attention. you spoke to yourself softly, muttering about how pretty you thought the little branch of lilac you plucked out of a bush was.
oh, how lovely your voice sounded; even the sun would not compare to it’s dulcet warmth.
a brilliant idea crossed his mind, one that he knew would get you to fall right in his grasp. and minutes later, he was able to conjure up a disturbingly realistic illusion of a rain storm. he descended back into his realm and all he had to do was wait.
you, however, flinched as the first droplets hit you. looking around for shelter, you spotted a cave entrance just a little way ahead, scrambling to sit there and wait for the storm to pass. the ground and walls felt cold against your body, nothing to separate your skin from the dark stone but your gown that was now soaked through and clung to your body.
minutes after you had sat down, a vaguely familiar scent breezed past you and had your head darting to look into the deeper part of the cave. there was no way it came from outside, not a single house in sight as the dewy smell of rain overtook the meadow. so your next most likely assumption was that it came from inside the cave. you stared into the seemingly endless abyss, squinting into the darkness for signs of, well, anything other than rocks and dirt.
and that’s when you saw it. a brief flickering flame, metres away from where you were sat. in the seconds that it lit, you could faintly make out what looked to be a staircase, descending further into a cave. an intrigued hum left you as you pushed yourself up from the ground and walked to the strange stairs, basket of berries and flowers left behind. there’s a reason they say curiosity killed the cat.
it was significantly colder as you stood at the top of the carved stairs, staring as far as you could see before they winded around and further into the unknown. another light came on, this time around the corner the stairs disappeared behind. with a final look at the exit of the cave, you began your unknowing descent into hell.
the light behind you flickered before going out, leaving you in darkness until you passed by the next torch, mounted on the damp stone. you planted your hand on the wall, afraid you’d lose your footing as each flame only lit the foreign path temporarily. the deeper you went, the colder you got. by the time you thought the stairs were endless, you could see faint puffs of white air emerging from your shaking lips with each breath you took. shivers ran through your body occasionally, your wet dress not doing anything to keep you warm.
just when you were going to give up and turn around to return to the surface, you stumbled at the unexpected absence of yet another step. your faint wince echoed through the small space as you rolled your ankle, instinctively holding yourself against the stone wall. your hand slipped from the wall for a second, a pebble falling and rolling until it stopped with an odd “clink.” you looked up in confusion to see what made the pebble stop with such a sound. looking with wide, bewildered eyes, a black and engraved set of double doors stood a few steps ahead of you. had they been there the whole time?
maybe someone lived there, someone who could help you. your father kept you safe and sound for as long as you could remember, teaching you to always see the best in people, rendering you a little sheltered and much too kind. perhaps this is what made you so trusting as you forced yourself to walk to the doors on limping legs. both doors had beautiful metal knockers mounted on them. the rusted brass resembled three dog heads, a heavy metal ring hanging from the snout of the dog in the middle. more than mildly nervous and with cold, shaking hands, you reached forward and tentatively lifted the ring of the right door before letting it knock against the dark wood.
moments later it swung open, held by a tall, pale-skinned man with slim fingers. for a moment you forgot what you were there for, caught off guard by the sharp eyes that looked down at you. your warm breath swirled in the air as you finally pieced together a sentence.
“i’m sorry, sir, but… i-i really meant to leave but i hurt my ankle…” you spoke quietly, your voice an octave higher than it usually was.
his gaze softened, the light of a torch on the wall reflecting in his dark eyes, and he smiled down at you as he opened the door wider and stepped aside. “oh, you poor thing. please, come inside.”
seonghwa watched you walk past him and into this home he had conjured up just for your arrival. it was quite dark, illuminated by a fireplace and candelabras decorating shelves and tables. he didn’t care enough to provide more light, completely entranced by the way you kneeled in front of the hearth, hands outstretched to warm them by the fire. they looked so much smaller compared to his. seeing you up close made his heart skip a beat, he wanted nothing more than to lay his hands on your smooth skin, run them through your damp hair, pat the thin and wet flowing dress dry and keep you warm. droplets of the rain ran from the top of you head down your face slowly, occasionally getting caught in your eyebrows or the corner of your beautiful lips.
he wondered fleetingly if they felt as soft as they looked. another bead of rain made it past your features, trailing past your jawline and neck. his eyes tracked it but when it disappeared under the fabric covering your chest, he refused to continue looking.
you felt his presence standing beside you a moment later, drawing your eyes—your naïve, innocent eyes—to look up at him. he offered you a hand to help you stand.
“come, love, let me take a look at your ankle,” he smiled at you kindly, pulling you up helpfully as you took his hand. once you stood, you stumbled slightly, accidentally putting weight on your injured ankle and wincing. one of his arm quickly looped itself around your waist, holding you up against him so you wouldn’t fall.
his touch was gentle yet you felt a certain firmness to it, feeling as if his warm hand was searing through your cold gown. your cheeks burned and you looked away shyly, something that had him biting back a smile as he guided you to sit at one of the sofas. he was mildly surprised by how small and delicate you felt in his arms. you felt fragile. there was something so seductive about that, the thought of breaking you in the most intimate of ways. but soon he had to let you go. after you settled into the cushions of the seat, his movements caught your eye.
your jaw nearly dropped when you saw him kneeling on the ground before you. though you weren’t aware of it, something made you so special that you had a god getting on the ground on his knees in front of a mortal. his dark eyes found yours, voice as gentle as it had been the whole time.
“may i?”
when you gave him a small nod, not trusting yourself to say anything, his hand grazed your calf before gently wrapping around your ankle and lifting it to rest on his thigh. despite his intimidating and malicious role among the deities, he was softer with you than anyone could ever imagine. he slipped off your shoe but kept your sock on, dragging the ruffled trim just under your heel so he could inspect the swelling at your ankle. the ruffles tickled you as he moved it, eliciting the most melodic giggle he’d ever heard.
when he glanced up at you, a smile stretched your tempting lips and making your smooth cheeks swell as you looked back down at him. he couldn’t help but smile, endeared by everything you did.
“it tickles.” you explained through another giggle, looking down at him. as his gaze returned to your ankle, you took note of how close he was. if he leaned forward just a little he’d be able to brush his plump lips along your knees. he knew that, of course, since he planned it. every touch, every position, every word had been meticulously planned, it was no surprise to him how close be found himself.
well, other than you getting injured, everything had been planned.
his slender finger pressed against different areas of your swollen ankle with featherlight pressure, gauging where it hurt most. you winced occasionally, but a certain spot made you flinch and whimper.
“there?” he whispered, looking up at you. his gaze was still tender as he gazed at you, his fingers pressing against that spot again with just a little more pressure. you knew he needed to check if it was really that spot, but in reality he wanted nothing more than to hear those lovely sounds tumble from your lips. to his delight, you did just that, bottom lip quivering slightly with the sound as you nodded. his gaze fell to your lips and he imagined kissing you, sucking your lower lip into his mouth, but he refocused his thoughts on your injury quickly.
“how did you even hurt yourself like this?” his other hand moved to the knee of your uninjured leg, thumb brushing small circles soothingly.
“i missed a step on the stairs and rolled my ankle.” you frowned slightly, the cute downturn if the corners of your lips almost making him coo at you. you leaned forward to catch a glimpse of your ankle but it was hard to see in the dim light provided by the fireplace and various candelabras around on shelves.
“i see… how careless of you, dear,” he tutted, fingers tapping against your knee absentmindedly, “but it’s okay, don’t worry. it’s just a small injury… wait here for a moment while i go get something, alright?”
you nodded once more and he got up, disappearing through a doorway as your eyes traced over his figure. you looked around the room as you waited patiently. it was a simple sitting room slash entrance area at first glance, but upon looking closer you found there were many little breathtaking details littered around for those who cared enough to find them. intricately embroidered golden designs decorating the wine red carpet beneath your feet, the shelves lining the wall on either side of the fireplace stocked with worn books neatly.
silent brisk steps drew your eyes back to him as the handsome stranger returned, a little glass bottle and roll of bandages held in his hands. his cheeks warmed at the sight of you sitting there so pretty and obediently. seonghwa kneeled in front of you once again and brought your foot to the same position as before.
“i’m going to apply this,” he held up the bottle for you to see, a mysterious deep blue liquid swishing around inside, “it’ll be cold and it might hurt a bit, but i promise to be gentle, okay?” after you nodded silently, he uncapped the bottle and poured a bit into his hand. “i’ll need you to stay still and relax. can you do that for me, love?”
after you gave him a muttered ‘yes’ he flattened his palm over the swelling. true to his word, the liquid he had poured into his hand was icy cold and stung a little as he rubbed it in as gently as possible. if you had to describe the feeling, you’d compared it to hundred of pinpricks concentrated on one area. it was uncomfortable, to say the least.
your eyes squeezed shut and your hands dug into the couch beneath you. you felt his touch leave your knee but a second later his hand found it’s way to yours, slipping between your fingers for you to hold him instead of tearing up his couch. he squeezed reassuringly and his heart swelled when you squeezed back.
before you knew it, his warm voice filled the silence of the room. “all done. you can open your eyes now, darling, you did so well.”
you eyes opened slowly at his words and looked down. he was peering up at you with round caring eyes, making your stomach flutter. his hand on your ankle lingered before he pulled away so you could have a look at the bandages wrapped around it skilfully, his other hand still intertwined with yours.
“thank you…?” you trailed off, indirectly asking for his name. despite him being a stranger, you somehow trusted this handsome man with your life. perhaps it was because he had shown you nothing but kindness thus far, every one of his actions illuminating warmth and care.
“of course. the ointment works fairly quickly, so you should be free to walk around just fine for a few hours at least,” his lips tugged into a small grin. he thought you were so cute, too shy to be upfront about your interest in him.
he wasn’t blind, your increased heart rate below his touch didn’t go unnoticed by him. for a moment, he considered lying to you—introducing you to an identity that didn’t exist in fear that you’d run away from him once he revealed himself. however, soon enough he came to the conclusion that he wanted you to love him, not some made up caricature. besides, he didn’t have to tell you about his occupation just yet. “it’s seonghwa.”
you tested the syllables on your tongue and he could’ve sworn honey poured right out of your mouth with how sweet you sounded. he nodded encouragingly and you gave him your name. he decided it fit you and your serene disposition. you watched with a warming face as he lifted your hand to his lips, eyes locked on yours as he kissed your knuckles.
“pleasure to make your acquaintance, love.” he winked smoothly before standing from the ground, pulling you off the couch with him. his eyes glanced down at your dress. it was still wet but not nearly as drenched as it was before, though it still clung to your body, teasing him. “you must be uncomfortable. if you want, i probably have a change of clothes for you.”
you smiled at his invitation gratefully, nodding. “i’d love that, thank you.”
“down that hall,” he pointed in the direction he went earlier to get that odd liquid, “the second door on the right is a bedroom. you’ll find some clothes in the closet, i think they’ll fit you.”
you took a step towards the hall before stopping and turning around to look at him with a questioning gaze. it didn’t take a genius to figure out what you were thinking. he fumbled to find a convincing excuse, speaking slowly. “my, uh, sister used to live with me but she moved away recently, so her clothes are still there.”
the explanation satisfied you and he watched as you followed his instructions, eyes drawn to the way you hips swayed slightly with each step. you stepped through the door he told you to, yellow candlelight seeping into the hallway before you closed it behind you. but it didn’t close fully and left you visible through the sliver. he forced his eyes away when he caught a glimpse of you pulling your gown off yourself.
just as he said, you found many suitable clothes in the shelves of the wooden dresser. the room itself was quite plain, though the bed looked more than comfortable. there were many options, though all of them seemed to be dresses of some kind. long or short, dark or pastel, silk or cotton, and everything in between. finally you settled on a flowy white nightgown, the skirt brushing against your thighs. you pulled on some clean socks and slippers and dried your hair as best you could with a towel you found before stepping out to join him in the sitting room again.
but when you got there, he was nowhere to be found. looking around in confusion, you breathed a sigh if relief when you heard him call your name for another room, beckoning you to join him. upon entering said room, it quickly became apparent it was a dining room.
the walls were practically black, much like the rest of the house so far, and made the room appear much darker than it probably actually was despite the multiple candelabras on the long wooden table and the extravagant chandelier hanging from the ceiling. he sat at the chair on the left of the head of the table, a meal set in front of the head. he gestured for you take a seat in front of it. you obliged quickly.
his eyes roamed over your figure, lips parting in a soft exhale at the sight of your bare thighs. fleetingly, he came to the conclusion he wanted to bury his head between them, let them squeeze and suffocate him as he ravished you. before he could further entertain those thoughts, the squeak of the chair brought him out of his head.
“i figured you’d be hungry, so i made a little something for you,” he spoke as you got comfortable in the seat, pushing a glass of water towards you, “i hope it’s up to your standards, dear.”
you gazed down at the bowl of what appeared to be chicken soup with vegetables before looking back up at him. “you’re too kind, really, you didn’t have to do all this for me.”
he was more than delighted by your kindness and manners, looking at him so cutely with the candlelight dancing in your eyes magically. “no but i did have to. i can’t have you sitting here, injured and starved… plus, it’s nice to have company.”
“oh?” his final sentence piqued your interest, fiddling with the handle of your spoon. “you don’t get a lot of company?”
he really didn’t, other than the souls that made down here after their bodies passed on. but that’s a conversation for another time. he shook his head slightly, lifting a glass of wine you hadn’t noticed before to his lips. he let it sit in his mouth for a moment before swallowing it and returning his gaze to you.
“not very often, no…” he explained slowly, setting the glass back on the table with a quiet clink before folding his hands beside it, elegant as ever, “people don’t tend to come all the way down here and i don’t tend to invite people over.”
a frown tugged at you lips and you turned your gaze away, feeling slightly ashamed. “i’m sorry to have bothered your peace then, seonghwa.”
he tensed, hands gripping each other just a little tighter. why on earth were you ashamed, why were you apologising? he reached over and placed a hand over your free one, momentarily distracted by how soft it felt in his grip before he was quick to reassure you. “oh no, darling, don’t you dare apologise. you’re not bothering me at all, really. it’s been a long time since i’ve enjoyed someone’s company this much.”
“r-really?” you finally looked at him again, the warmth returning to his stomach as he faintly noticed one of the straps threatening to fall off your shoulder.
“really,” he reaffirmed, turning your hand over so he could hold it properly, “i should be thanking you, if anything.”
you averted your gaze once again, this time feeling shy rather than ashamed; a fact that had him grinning. soon enough, you began eating your soup, humming at the taste approvingly after the first taste. you conversed leisurely as you ate, jumping from subject to subject naturally as if you’d known each other for years. you asked him why he wasn’t eating with you, to which he said he’d already eaten and didn’t feel hungry. this was, of course, a lie since deities like him don’t need to eat anyway.
eventually, you finished, slumping back in your seat with a yawn. “that was absolutely amazing. thank you, hwa.”
the new nickname had his cheeks tinting a soft pink but he hid it quickly. he watched you yawn. somehow everything you did felt adorable to him, the urge to scoop you up in his arms to hold you tightly and kiss you softly growing stronger by the second. if he weren’t a man with unrivalled self-restraint and patience, he would’ve done it by now.
“someone’s tired, huh?” he cooed at you, crossing one leg over the other. “you should go sleep in the room you got the clothes from. i’d prefer for you to stay until your ankle is fully healed, just in case.”
you nodded slowly, another yawn ripped from your throat as you got up and stretched your arms over your head. the movement caused the skirt of your nightgown to ride up, his breath hitching as he realised if it went up any further head be able to see your lacy white undergarments you’d borrowed from the dresser too. he distracted himself with a chuckle, standing up and guiding you out of the dining room to the bedroom by the small of your back.
before you knew it, you were on your back on the bed of the bedroom that supposedly belonged to his sister. your dress fell over your body entrancingly, tempting his hungry eyes as he stood over you, adoring the way your hair laid on the satin pillow. you turned to your side and curled up with your knees pulled to your chest. he caught a glimpse of your lacy panties before they fell over the swell of your ass as if they hadn’t moved in the first place.
thoughts swarmed his mind, none of them appropriate. he imagined your legs wrapped around his waist, burying himself into the curve of your neck, sculpted for his face to fit right there. he longed to feel your soft curves against his fingers, not a single layer of clothing separating you.
“hwa?” the way you said his name made his thoughts snap to reality as his eyes found yours. the nickname sounded so wonderful with your voice, he wanted to bottle up the sound and keep it safe on a shelf for the rest of eternity. not only that, but the way you looked at him, lips parted softly with small breaths, cheeks flushed, and eyes looking wide and innocent. oh, how innocent you smelled to him. he was torn between preserving it and corrupting it.
“yes, love?” he whispered back, brushing a strand of your hair from you face as casually as possible.
“thank you… for everything,” you whispered, peering up at him with those same glittering round eyes, “i’ll be sure to repay you for your kindness when i can.”
“there’s no need, really. it’s nothing,” he chuckled quietly, gaze flitting all over your features—you fluttering eyelashes, the slope of your nose, the curve of your neck, the slight upturn of the corners of your lips. he took a deep breath as discreetly as possible, reminding himself that there was a chance he wouldn’t be able to convince you to stay with him, he shouldn’t get too attached just yet.
somehow, he held himself back from pulling you into his arms and kissing you breathless. he pulled his hand back after letting his thumb brush against your cheekbone for a moment.
“i’ll let you rest now,” he whispered, “sleep well. i’ll see you in the morning, love.”
you muttered a soft ‘goodnight, hwa’ in return before he was out of the room and shutting the door a second later.
the door clicked shut and you heard his footsteps getting more and more distant. you let out another quiet yawn, pulling the comfortable blanket over your body and up to your chin. your room was quiet, the silence oddly comforting. something about the place had that feel and despite being so far underground, it didn’t feel claustrophobic at all. you compared it to home, your parents always bickering with each other or taking out their frustrations on you. it felt nice to be in a quiet space again, and you briefly wondered if you could stay a little longer than another day.
your eyelids became heavier with each blink in the dark before they ultimately closed completely, pulling you into a deep sleep.
though you didn’t expect it to last so long, over a week passed and you were still staying with him in his little cave house. you didn’t mind, of course, since he took such great care of you. in the week, you’d grown closer, treating each other like lovers though neither of you brought it up. he’d let you sit in his lap and you’d let him brush his fingers through your hair.
you stirred awake, one day short of having spent two weeks with him. today was one of those days where he’d gone out to run some errands, trusting you enough to leave you alone. with not much to do, you usually sat in his little library or took a nap until the evening. this time you chose the latter.
some hair clung to the thin layer of sweat on your forehead, your blanket displaced and only covering half of your left leg, having kicked it off in your sleep. for a second you couldn’t remember where you were, but memories of the previous days returned quickly and you relaxed before sitting up and looking around the room. the candle had stayed on overnight, providing light in a place where windows really couldn’t exist.
there was no indication of the time other than a clock on one of the bedside tables. assuming it was functional and accurate, it was 10:24 in the evening. you hummed, surprised you’d slept so much when usually you’d be awake hours before that. with a quiet groan, you realised there was no point in going back to bed, pulling yourself off the mattress and to the door.
you reached for the door handle but paused, pulling back to check yourself in the mirror. not wanting to look like a mess in front of seonghwa, you readjusted your dress so it sat on your body properly and tried your best to make your hair appear less messy. only then did you tiptoe your way out of your bedroom and to the sitting room.
he was back already, sat on the couch and readings a book, back straight and one leg crossed elegantly over the other. he wore something different. instead of the loose white shirt, black briefs and black corset, he now wore a black vest that had sheer black sleeves with black briefs. the neckline of his vest dipped low, revealing the lean muscles of his chest. you forced yourself to look away, settling into the armchair across from him, separated by a long coffee table.
“i don’t bite, you know,” he spoke without looking up from his book, sounding amused that you sat so far away after how close you’d been the night before.
your daze cracked, chuckling as you stood and walking around the coffee table to sit beside him on his right. though you weren’t touching, a few centimetres of space between you, you could feel his body heat radiating off him. he glanced down at your exposed thighs briefly before continuing to read, or at least trying to. his eyes were stuck on the same line for a minute, distracted by the way you leaned your head on his shoulder to read with him.
he contemplated pulling you onto his lap, missing the feel of your weight against him like the night before. you had insisted for him to carry you to bed, pouty and tired, and when he did, he had a hard time letting go of you and ended up sitting with his back against the headboard with you snuggled safely on his lap until you fell asleep.
knowing you wouldn’t mind, he moved his right arm around your waist, slipping his hand down to your hip to make pulling you onto his lap easier. once you were there, straddling him so prettily, he let you rest the side of your head on his shoulder, your nose brushing against his neck as he tried his best to maintain his focus on his book. to the world he was a merciless king, but with you in his lap he was tender and caring.
you shifted your head, trying to look down at the book he was reading. your breath tickled him as you spoke. “what’re you reading?”
“oh,” he turned the book over for you to see the title. he let you read over, revelling in the feeling of your nose and lips accidentally grazing his neck. it tested every inch if his patience. feeling your heart beat against his chest and wanting so desperately to crawl into your ribcage, cradling your heart in his hands and peppering the beating muscle with kisses. he cleared his throat. “it’s a collection of poetry and letters.”
“you like poetry?” you giggled quietly and he swore he could taste the sweetness of it.
“i do,” he nodded, the tips of his ears dusted a rosy pink, “would you like me to read some to you?”
the offer made you feel giddy for some reason, glancing up at him with a grin as you nodded. you could only imagine how poetry would sound spoken by his divine voice.
seonghwa snickered at your excitement, flipping through the pages of his book to find something worthy of your ears. he stopped at a page near the end, his hand dropping back to your hip as he began reading. he traced a finger over your hipbone as he did, the light pressure making you squirm lightly in his lap.
“i have never surrendered myself entirely to anyone but you, and only recently. and to let my heart speak, when i am pressed against you, is an emotion and a peace that overflows all imagination.”
by the time he finished reading it, you were holding your breath, heart hammering against your ribs so hard you had no doubt he’d be able to feel it. the way he said it sounded less like a recitation and more like a confession, your stomach buzzing with anticipation as you sat up to look at him face to face, eye to eye, your hands resting on his chest.
your touch drove him to insanity. the soft press of your fingers against his vest, making it that much harder to hold himself back. he wanted to hold you against him forever. to inhale your scent so that his lungs would depend on you and only you. to touch you, to kiss you, to knit your flesh to his so you’d never leave him, to devour you, consume you. he wanted to do it all.
he could only whisper, “may i?”
his words echoed what he said before tending to your ankle two weeks prior, the day you first met him. that felt so long ago, a nostalgic smile tugging at your lips as you nodded.
his hand squeezed you hip gently while the other moved to cup your jaw, wasting no time in pulling your face to his. it was a slow, reverent kiss that filled every inch of your senses with warmth. your lips felt softer than he imagined. when your lips finally touched, your fingers curled into his vest, sighing against his lips softly.
he shuddered at the sound, pulling your hips tighter against him and pressing his lips against yours a little harder, your body perfectly molded to his as if that’s where you belonged. his tongue ran along your bottom lip, not pushing into your mouth, just tasting you enough to satiate his growing hunger. despite the way your hips rolled against him, guided by his hand and eliciting subtle gasps against his lips, he couldn’t help but still find you so sweet, so innocent, as you let him kiss you breathless.
in a way, you reminded him of a little lamb, hunted by a wolf. one could say you had tamed him. he could easily tear out your throat, add you to his collection of souls, yet he decided to kiss you instead. kiss you so softly your cheeks warmed.
the next time your eyes fluttered open, you somehow found yourself in your room, still on his lap as he sat on the edge. his kisses slowed, being replaced with repeated pecks before he pulled away fully to rest his forehead against yours, panting.
he sighed your name and for a second you felt the world stop, the sound making your head spin. “darling, please, let me taste you.”
your breath hitched at his whispered request, suddenly aware of your panties sticking to your wet core. wordlessly, you nodded and he manoeuvred you to lay on your back, making sure your head rested on your pillow comfortably.
he kissed your forehead, then your lips. from there he kissed his way further down over your nightgown—your jaw, neck, shoulder, collarbone, the valley of your breast, your stomach, hipbones, the top of your pelvis—all the while murmuring praises of how beautiful you were. his hands rested on your waist and moved down to your thighs, spreading them apart without resistance as he kneeled between them.
with a final look at your curious face, looking down and following his every action with your eyes, he dragged the end of your skirt up, revealing more and more of your smooth thighs and baby blue cotton panties. he thought they were cute as he let the dress bunch up at your waist, leaning down to kiss the little satin bow of your undergarments before hooking his finger through them.
he began dragging them down but stopped abruptly when you place a hand over his own, worried eyes darting to look at you. all you had to do was say the word and he’d stop.
“no one has ever… you know,” you blushed, too shy to say no one had ever eaten you out, only giving your lower half a meaningful glance.
relieved, he chuckled lowly and kissed the hand atop his. “you know i’ll be careful, darling. just relax, okay?”
once you relaxed as he told you to, he slipped his fingers between yours, using his other hand to slip your underwear down and off you, tossing them in a random direction before finally taking a look at the parts of you he craved the most. he nearly moaned at the sight of your pink folds, glistening in the dim light as your engorged clit begged for his attention.
leaning down to kiss your inner thighs first, his tongue slid between your folds, licking an experimental stripe from your hole to your clit, drawing a soft whine from you. he himself groaned at the taste, the sweet nectar that seeped from your body.
“fuck, you taste so good.”
your thighs quivered around his head as he pushed his face deep into your heat, lapping up your juices and sucking at your nub with the desperation of a starved man. each prod of his tongue had your breath shaking, whimpering, as he drove you closer and closer to the edge. before, you figured it would feel good, but not quite this delicious.
when you came, you came with a faint cry of his name, body arching of the bed. your hand that didn’t hold his moved to his hair at some point during his meal, tugging softly as your juices gushed out and you twitched from overstimulation, his tongue unrelenting and determined to swallow every last drop of your release.
he pulled away as you tugged at his hair, moving his torso up your body to kiss you. it was less a kiss and more feverish presses against each other, his tongue wandering between your teeth and making you taste yourself. you couldn’t taste much, but to his sensitive taste buds you were the sweetest thing he’d ever had.
his hips pressed against yours and your breath hitched, feeling the weight of his erection straining against his pants and nudging your aching clit. he pulled back from your lips, searching your eyes for any sign that you wanted to stop. but you only nodded encouragingly and he grinned, his lips moving to your neck as he helped you sit up so he could pull your dress off you and finally see everything he’d been fantasising about.
he detached his lips from your pulse point to pull it the rest of the way and toss it in a random direction, his eyes trained on your breasts. they were just as pretty as he imagined, nudging you to lay down again so he could take one erect nipple into his mouth and suck and lick and kiss it and around it.
“you look so pretty right now, love,” he muttered against your skin as he kissed his way to your other breast, his hands working on releasing himself from his pants while yours unbuttoned his vest, hands shaking with want.
you closed your eyes and leaned your head back against your pillow, your fingers gripping onto his bare shoulders as he dragged his tip through your folds, gathering your wetness. he kissed your cheek.
“tell me if anything hurts, okay?”
only once you breathed an ‘okay’ did he begin pushing in. he was blessed with a cock so big and perfect it hit every sensitive spot in your walls with precision as his length filled you slowly. his tip alone had you gasping softly, moaning incoherently as your eyes rolled back and fell shut, the stretch somehow pleasing you.
when he bottomed out, his eyes were drawn to the way he could see himself pressing through the bottom of your stomach, groaning as he passed his hand over the area and felt the bump. he stilled inside you, not moving until you told him so.
“p-please move, hwa.”
his pace throughout was relaxed, slow but not painfully slow, just enough roughness to his grinds to leave you breathless without tipping you over the edge just yet. it was when his hand slipped under your waist and angled you differently that you began feeling the familiar knot tighten in your abdomen.
he had a hard time stopping himself from releasing the moment he entered you, your walls hugging him so perfectly he choked back a moan with each stroke. everything about you felt as if you’d been made for him to worship, for him to indulge in. before you had come along, there was that occasional craving of romance, of wanting someone. he longed for someone to hold his hand, whose eyes replied to his so lovingly.
and there you were, beneath him, squeezing one of his hands while your dilated pupils showed him just how much you wanted him too.
you bit down on your bottom lip to hold back your sounds, something that made him chuckle and kiss the bridge of your nose. “don’t be shy, i want to hear you.”
his quiet praises made your face warm, letting out the softest of moans as his words shot straight to your core.
“you take me so well, love.” “you’re so precious and all mine.” “keep your eyes on me, darling.”
at some point his deep slow strokes grew needy and faster, pounding against your g-spot repeatedly as moans and whimpers of the two of you filled the room, hot breaths mingling with each other. your next orgasm crashed down on you with little warning, your walls squeezing around him as he muffled your sounds with his lips.
he came soon after that, filling you with his release after you had told him it was okay. his face dropped into the crook of your neck, cock twitching until his body slumped against yours.
after cleaning you up with a damp towel and slipping a new pair of panties over your legs, he joined you in bed once more and wrapped his arms around you. your legs tangled together and your chest pressed against his, your head tucked under his chin as you drifted back to sleep, lazy kisses placed onto the crown of your head.
he sighed softly and shut his eyes, filled with thoughts. now that he’s had you, he could hardly see himself letting go of you. but why would he? you were all he wanted and more.
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networks. @cromernet @wonderlandnet @cultofdionysusnet @pirateeznet
permanent taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @seonghwasbbgirl @likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo @yalyallic @yunhoswrldddd @coffee-addict-kitten @thunderous-wolf @chngbnwf
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aethelwyneleigh27 · 7 months
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Some Dad!Cod Character Scenario and Appreciation Post
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Characters In Mind: Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra, Alex Keller, König, Keegan P. Russ, Gary "Roach" Sanderson.
The original creator of the picture, they also have so many works that are used in so many fanfics as well so please credit her. I found her account here on Tumblr (@ave661) and here is the post.
AFAB!Reader and used pronouns are "you"
Apologies if this is a bit too short but;
ꕥ HOPE YOU ENJOY! ꕥ
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A/n: I've had a good but also bad week (good thanks to @puff0o0 and other extremely sweet mutuals), it's neutral, I'm not here to rant of any sort but my personal life has not been good. I understand that not everyone will like me but it feels as though everyone hates me, most of those people happen to be at school. Sure I'm not really going to do anything about it because I prefer avoiding conflict but those same people are trying to flip the story around as if I'm the one who hates them when in reality I don't and by being mean to me they're giving me a reason to dislike them. Sure I'm average academically, sometimes I have difficulty pulling my weight in group works and I'm not outstanding in reportings but we all have our difficulties. I just don't understand people who love to hate on others because they have nothing better to do.
This is a word of advice to everyone, don't let others let you feel insignificant, you aren't and you have many talents that make you different from them. (I don't really practice what I preach because I love self-deprication, however I don't want people to feel the way I do because I know what it can cause)
Disclaimers/warnings: OOC??, Pregnancy, Implied birth, Children (Pretty sure that was obvious from the title), People who don't want/hate children be warned.
Short note: This is also a dedication to all the Mistki and Hozier fans out there <3
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He was so used to the smell of hospitals, the smell of medication, it always indicated death for him but this was a whole new feeling. It was the opposite of what he has seen most of his life
So much so that he refused to hold them, afraid of potentially hurting the fragile little one. He looked at you as if you were crazy when you tried to hand him the baby, "Come on now love, you can't just avoid holding them forever" you said to him as of it was a life or death situation.
Hesitantly letting you guide him through the proper way to hold them, he felt his breath hitch at the sound of cooing. The first time the baby opened it's eyes, the first thing they saw being their dad.
The moment he looked at the baby sealed it, he was going to protect them their whole life, he would go as far as feeling all the guilt of having blood on their hands again if it meant your baby would be protected and cared for.
The baby was so small that it's little head was practically the size of his palm, he didn't know initially what to do when the baby cried and shocked himself when he managed to make them stop.
Once the baby was old enough to crawl, he'd let the baby crawl all over him. The little one babbling non-sense while he just chuckled and replied as if he understood what the baby was saying. Gods be damned if he misses an important milestone such as their first word or their first time walking.
You'd often wake up to seeing him shirtless snoozing on the couch, the tv playing only ads for home appliances late at night while the baby only in a diaper having skin to skin contact with their dad, his huge hand big enough to support the little one from falling.
He almost cried the first time your baby reached for his face an touched it, resting it's tiny little fingers on his cheek, giving him a gummy smile. His little one unaware that they just healed something they never broke.
He NEVER wants to ever see your little one grow up, though sure it makes more memories with them, sometimes they just wish time stops for a second so they can enjoy the moment longer.
Initially was terrified that he'd pass his trauma down but he realized that wouldn't be possible and he will NOT ever let them go through what he did.
Eventually chose to resign from his work because the risk was far too much, what if he died? He'd leave you and your child to grieve over him? He won't be there for them growing up and he'd miss everything.
Sure he's worked most his life to get where he is now but nothing is ever worth more than spending a lifetime with you and your child together. He's been lonely almost all his life until he met you.
You are his family, his everything. He promised that whatever happens, he'll crawl home to you...
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2K notes · View notes
jaylaxies · 9 months
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ROMAN HOLIDAY
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PAIRING: jake x fem!reader
GENRE/CW: smut, slight fluff, protected and unprotected sex, (don’t be silly, wrap your willy!), cunnilingus, marking, creampie, mentions of petnames (princess, baby, darling, daddy), lots of kissing and brief mentions of smoking, stealing, running away from cops, drugs, somnophilia (consensual), etc.
WC: 10k words
SYNOPSIS: visiting your grandma’s place was more or less your entire plan for your summer vacations and only break you get before your university starts, although, meeting your neighbour, bickering with him and clutching his hand while running away from cops wasn’t in your bucket list.
PLAYLIST: welcome to wonderland by anson seabra, movement by hozier, if you let me by alina baraz, how to love by jen z, roman holiday by halsey.
WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni
A/N: hihi, my sweetest angels <3 i'm finally here with a jake fic which was long due! i hope you guys like it <33 all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated :D loveyou all <3
Bagging a window seat for a day-long journey sure is a blessing, peculiarly when you have to stay sitting at your spot in a train for a sum of six hours. Nestled in your seat, you sit straighter when the scenic view of the sea water meeting the sky graces your eyes—which you capture on your phone’s camera with a soft smile. 
It felt as if it had been ages since you got out of your room, where you used to be cooped up during the entirety of your day, studying for your final year of school. 
Your parents were concerned. They were highly proud of you for achieving top honours, yes, but it was about time you went out and cherished your life a little before you got winded up in the stress of University yet again, which was to start in one month. 
And what’s a better place to spend your vacations at if not at your granny’s home? 
It was a few minutes past six when you finally reached your desired destination, dragging your luggage behind you as a swish of cold breeze hit you. It looked straight out of a movie with how the train station was lit up by old-fashioned lamps which radiated warmth just by glancing towards them.  
You hugged your cardigan tighter, walking out to find the taxi stand just outside the exit area of the station, pulling out your phone to show the driver the address you’d be meaning to go to. He was a kind man, helping you put your luggage into the trunk of his taxi. Your curious eyes looked out, observing how much the town had changed over the years. 
You were seven when you last visited her hometown. Ever since then, your grandma used to be the one who visited you in the city, at your place, however she did not wish to leave her town and move in with your family. You could see why she chose to stay here—the serene view, the freshness in the air, the tranquil surroundings, it made the corner of your lips curl up into a smile. 
It only got wider once the driver stopped his taxi in front of your grandma’s house. It was exactly how you had remembered it to be—a small but two story house with a big veranda which was lit up by fairy lights on the big bushes. The back door connected the path towards the small pool and then yet another door linked the beach from your backyard. 
Your grandma stood by the door with the fondest smile gracing her ever so beautiful face, a few grey strands fell on her face and you couldn’t help but get out of the taxi and run towards her, capturing her in an embrace. A hearty chuckle filled the air, the scent of your favourite cookies encapsulated you, making you wonder if she had baked a batch just for you as you snuggled further, her hand patting your head exactly the way she used to do ever since you were a kid. 
“I missed you, grandma.” Your expression said it all, and she looked more than happy to usher you in the house, saying how chilly the night was and you made sure to pay the driver, thanking him for his service as you dragged the luggage in. 
A wave of nostalgia hit you as your eyes wandered off to observe each corner, but your grandma didn’t hear any of it, making sure her granddaughter was well fed and rested after the long journey. 
She spent a good while telling you embarrassing stories of your father during dinner, which you listened to with delight, sharing your own stories with zeal before you climbed up the stairs, opening the door to the room you used to use each time you stayed over as a child. 
It didn’t change, the bed was still too big for you, the windows were spotless as if it had been cleaned frequently and the scent of old books paired with a tinge of vanilla filled your senses. Your body felt calm and you couldn’t remember the last time you had felt this way. 
Calling your parents, you updated them by telling you had reached safely as you walked in the balcony, feeling comfortable in a sweatshirt and cotton shorts. The night sky resembled a velvet blanket full of glistening stars. 
However, a figure clad in all black captured your attention. It was a bit beyond one in the morning, which is why it was unsettling to see someone walk in such dim lights. The stranger made his way towards your neighbouring house, making you wonder if he lived there. 
Shrugging, you sighed. Sitting at one place for hours does tire your body, so you proceed to finally get into your cozy bed, setting an alarm before your grandma comes in to check if you require anything. 
“Sweet dreams my little peanut,” your grandma smiled, closing the door behind you as you replied back with a gentle voice. 
“Sweet dreams, Gigi!” It was a nickname you used for her, she found it lovely. 
The placid atmosphere and the distant sound of waves acted as a catalyst to your sleep, and you slept soundly, not knowing that the calmness was just a start to your inevitable venture—something no one could have prepared you for. 
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You found yourself walking alongside your Gigi to visit the lady next door in the afternoon. She was a kind soul—as stated by your grandma, not to mention that she treated her like her own family, making sure to provide help whenever she could and that’s the reason why you were going to meet her. 
It wasn’t the first time; apparently you used to play in their veranda a lot as a child, which again, you didn’t remember. However, when the lady—Mrs. Sim, opened the door, the memories came rushing back to you. She was jolly, almost as if she was waiting for your arrival and soon, you were engulfed into a sweet hug. 
She called out your name in sheer excitement, leaning back to take a good look at your face, which sported a silly smile due to embarrassment. 
“Aw, love. You’ve grown into such a pretty young lady,” she gushed, ushering you both inside and into the living room area. 
“And you don’t look a day over twenty, Mrs. Sim,” you replied, not lying considering how youthful she appeared to be. 
Her smile only widened at your comment, “now, another word and I’ll be floating in the clouds,” she said, making you chuckle as you got engaged in a conversation, sipping on the cranberry juice which Mrs. Sim had so kindly offered you. 
It was decided that you’d be having lunch together, and you tried your best to help the two women in the kitchen but you were soon shoved out, saying you don’t have to do a thing and rest—that’s the purpose of your vacations. 
Which made you sit down and use your phone, scrolling through random apps and replying to all the texts. 
“Y/n!” Soon, you were called into the kitchen, and you poked your head in with a smile. 
“Yes, Gigi?” 
“Oh, peanut, can you please go upstairs and call Jake for lunch? It’s almost done.” She asked. 
You tilted your head in confusion, mind wandering back to the guy you had seen last night and you came to the conclusion that Jake might be Mrs. Sim’s son. 
You nodded, heading up the wooden staircase. Would you have to introduce yourself to him? Would it get awkward? You had no clue. 
Knocking on the door twice, you took a step back and patiently waited for the door to open and so, you tried again to no avail. You wondered if he had his headphones on, which left you with no choice but to open the door, peeking in slightly only to find the room empty. 
“Oh,” you let out, closing the door behind you for the sake of privacy. 
“He’s not in his room,” you informed Mrs. Sim. 
She sighed, serving a good portion of food for all of you, “I could have sworn he didn’t go out,” she shook her head as you three sat down. You let the elders start eating first and only then you picked up your chopsticks to do the same. 
“I haven’t seen him in a while, what’s the tough guy up to?” Your Gigi asked. 
“He’s busy enrolling himself into universities,” Mrs. Sim says, a sad smile taking over her face, “he says he doesn’t want to leave me and is aiming for nearby universities.” 
“My my, isn’t he a darling boy?” Your grandma praised while you chewed on your food, which melted right in your mouth, silently eating while hearing them converse. 
It didn’t take long for your grandma to ask them to come over for dinner the very next day, “it’s only fair that I cook for you too,” she argued when Mrs. Sim told her that she shouldn’t bother. 
This time, your grandma let you help with the cooking, and of course, you were sent to invite the Sims over for dinner. You hugged your white cardigan close to your body—the nights tend to get chilly. Walking over to the neighbouring home, you rang the bell and were greeted with the sight of Mrs. Sim, who actually dressed up for the little dinner party. 
“Oh, darling. Can you please call Jake down for dinner too?” She asked you as she was busy tidying up her own kitchen. 
“Of course,” you smiled. 
It was the second time you were heading up the stairs. This time, you were sure you’d be meeting the said boy. You found yourself standing right in front of his room yet again, gulping down your nervousness. It wasn’t as if you weren’t used to introducing yourself to new people, school made sure you knew how to do that, however, your nerves were acting up. 
With a deep breath, you knocked on the door, twice—just like the last time. The difference, however, was that the door was opened in this instance. 
The scent of an intoxicating blend of masculinity and sophistication announced his presence, undertones of musk and wood laced up, providing him a complex aura altogether. 
A tall guy with parted black hair leaned against the doorframe, eyebrow perfectly raised in question, his arms folded as his honey brown eyes with the slightest speckles of gold stared your way, his plump lips soon curling up into what seemed to be an assortment of a smile and a smirk. 
“You must be Y/n,” he stated, standing up straight, which caused his muscles to flex enough to the point it was visible in his white button up. 
You licked your lips unknowingly, moistening them up before you nodded, extending your hand for him to shake, “pleasure meeting you, Jake.” 
His eyes travelled down from your face to your hand, a low chuckle left his mouth, him opening the door and stepping out, coming closer to you as he grabbed your smaller hand in his bigger, warmer ones in a firm handshake. 
“I can see why my mom can’t stop talking about you,” he said, making you tilt your head in question, eyes never leaving his face which was captivating. 
“And why is that so?” You asked, stepping back slightly as he leaned in to whisper in your ear. 
“Because you seem to be a good girl,” he breathed, making you go still as he leaned back with the same smirk, leaving you behind, walking down the stairs. 
Now, you didn’t expect the situation to turn out this way, yet you knew that talking to him further would only cause your head to hurt. 
What even made him think about you being a good girl?
Is it your outfit? Plain, loose jeans paired with a pink top and cardigan. It’s basic enough not to be categorized so easily. 
You scoff to yourself, already hating the situation as you walk downstairs, only to find Jake with a smile that genuinely looked sweet while he talked to his mother, helping her lock the door. 
“I see you met Jaeyun,” she smiled, and you nodded, sitting alongside her, not sparing a glance at the said boy as you didn’t even know his real name was Jaeyun. 
The table was set for four, which made you sit right across from Jake, who’s demeanour had changed as he complimented your granny, who laughed at his sweetness. 
“Here, have some more,” he says, serving another portion to your grandma, who cooed at his kind conduct at the table. 
He made sure to be on his best behaviour, only in front of others but when his gaze fell towards you, a bored expression overtook his features, which no one paid attention to. 
You rolled your eyes. It hadn’t even been a whole day since you met and yet the boy made you dread his presence. He wasn’t being straight up rude per se, however his actions weren’t subtle either just like how he completely ignored your existence during the entirety of the dinner. 
He offered to clean up, which included him having to clean up your plate as well, which was something he did with a frown on his face as Mrs. Sim endorsed that he should help with the household work. 
Both ladies were in awe of how well mannered Jake was, and it left you irritated to no end before Mrs. Sim called out your name softly. 
“Jake’s been acting distant lately,” she told you in a soft voice, making sure the said boy doesn’t hear you both, “and comes home late from his part time work, doesn’t share a lot these days too,” she sighs before looking at you softly, “you’re such a lovely girl, Y/n. I’m sure Jaeyun would love to have you as a friend he can rely on. Will you please look after him?” She asked, eyes sincere with worry for her son. 
Now, you were provided with two choices—one to say yes and agree, but you’d have to be in Jake’s proximity for that. The second one would be a plain no, which would sound disrespectful and insolent. 
So you put on your most convincing smile, which turned into an unadulterated one when you saw her being concerned about her son, “of course, I’ll do that, Mrs. Sim.”
“Oh please! Call me auntie,” she swatted her hand at your formal usage of name and you laughed, agreeing. 
Since the dinner was summed up now and the dishes were done, courtesy of Jaeyun; you were asked to walk them back home, which wasn’t even a two minute walk, however you couldn’t say no to your grandma and hence, you agreed. 
Mrs. Sim—or your auntie Sim, thanked you for the dinner, and proposed to at least have one meal of the day together each day, which you thought was a lovely idea given that you had grown to like the lady. 
You were just about to leave when she went inside but a firm grip on your wrist stopped you right away, making you look up at Jake in question. 
“You don’t have to bother being my friend, you’ll only be a hindrance in my way,” he says smoothly. 
Your expression turns sour, almost as if you were bored, “why? So you can keep your fake good boy persona up and going?” You said, mimicking his tone. 
Not expecting such a reply, he let out a surprised scoff, mixed with the slightest chuckle, “so what? It doesn’t concern you. Or are you offended that I’m not actually good, like you,” he whispered, leaning close, which made you realize how tall he actually was, “you know nothing about me, princess.”
The nickname rolled off his tongue seamlessly, sending a shiver down your spine while you kept a straight face, trying not to seem affected at all. 
“Neither do you know about me, Sim. So stop making assumptions and just because I’m nice doesn’t mean I’ll take your bullshit.” You rolled your eyes, saying it all in one go before turning around to leave. 
“You should be scared of me,” he chuckles behind you. 
“In your dreams,” you retorted, not sparing him another glance as your heart palpitated. 
You had never talked to anyone in such a manner before, it gave a sense of newfound confidence—which you needed.
Jake simply watched you walk back to your place, shaking his head once you disappeared from his eyesight and still, a humorous smile never left his face. 
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You had updated your parents about your three days here and later called your friend to do the same, who was also busy with her own vacation bucket list, yet it was a refreshing talk given that you currently did not have much to do to entertain yourself. 
Which left you to grab your swimwear and go for a swim—utilizing the pool in your backyard. 
Gigi loved to sit by the pool and made sure that it was cleaned every now and then. She had gotten it cleaned right in the morning today, which also gives you an opportunity to use it. 
The sunset casted a warm glow on the calm waves of the pool, the slight breeze in the air making it serene as you immerse yourself in the water, it closing you right in, feeling like a warm hug. 
You started slowly with effortless strokes, enjoying the feeling of lukewarm water on your body. You stopped after a while, resting as you let your body float with your eyes closed. 
“Enjoying ourselves, are we now?” A voice broke your state of tranquillity, your eyes opening in a swift and the water sloshed with how fast you turned around. 
Of course, it was none other than Jake sim who sat on the pool lounge chair, arms behind his back as if he was sitting to enjoy the view. 
“The fuck are you doing here?” You breathed out in question. 
He looked at you, feigning disappointment as he leaned to look down at you, “oh, princess. Didn’t they teach you not to use such filthy words?”
His condescending tone only riled you up, “didn’t they teach you not to show up at someone’s place unannounced?” You mocked, getting out of the pool and trying to find your towel, only for you to realize he was sitting right on it. 
“I’m simply here to get cumin from your grandma, we ran out of it, you see,” he explained, not sounding sincere as he let his eyes wander all over your wet body, barely covered with your bikini. 
Your eyes, however, focused on the cigarette he took out from his pocket, making you gasp as you made your way towards him in an attempt to snatch it off his fingers.  
Nevertheless, Jake was quicker to get up, grabbing your hand which was extended and pinning it up against the wall, his body pressed up against yours, successfully making your body go still with shock. 
Yeah, you didn’t really adore your body’s fight or flight response. 
“Fuck—” your eyes widened, yet he wasn’t the one to give you even a second to complain. 
“Shh, princess. I don’t want a single bad word coming out of your mouth now, is that understood?” He asked, using his condenscending tone again. 
You could feel every ounce of confidence which you had yesterday leaving your body as you stared into his honey eyes, an unconscious slight nod betraying you.  
That satisfied him, although he didn’t bother changing his position, nor did he mind your wet body as he took out a lighter from his free hand, lighting up the flame, keeping it close to the cigarette which was pressed in between his lips. 
Your eyes were transfixed on his face, observing how swiftly he closed the lighter, stuffing it in his pocket right before he looked away, blowing smoke into the air, giving you the greatest opportunity to stare at his consummate side profile. 
He took the joint back in his fingers, returning his attention your way, “ever smoked before?” He asked, tone seemingly raspier. 
Not trusting your voice, you simply shook your head as to provide him an answer. 
He snickered, “of course you haven’t. It goes against your good girl rulebook, doesn’t it?” 
“Shut up!” Your sudden outburst of anger only humoured him, even more so when you tried to snatch the cigarette from him using your free hand to prove him wrong. 
He didn’t let it happen. 
Instead, you found yourself looking right into his eyes with his slender fingers holding your chin in place. His breath was cool with a lingering smell of mint—which was probably due to the flavour of cigarette. 
“Want it that bad now?” He raised his brows, “open your mouth,” he ordered, not giving you a second to comply, his thumb parting your lips as he desired. 
He took a drag, inhaling the smoke deeply as you gulped, you could hear your heartbeat, or maybe that was simply how aware you were of your surroundings—your proximity with Jake. 
Tilting his head, he leaned in again, mouth parted just the right amount. He let the smoke out and into your mouth in an agonizingly slow fashion, his lips on the verge of touching yours. 
Your subconscious took over once you inhaled the smoke and it hit your throat. The burning sensation caused you to push him off as you coughed out in distress. 
“Guess you can’t handle it, princess,” he clicked his tongue in disappointment. 
You glared his way, composing yourself enough to actually snatch the cigarette from his fingers and take a deep puff, ignoring the way it burned your throat. It was your turn to surprise him by pulling him closer, grabbing his collar. 
Your eyes were closed when you leaned in, blowing the smoke right into his mouth, causing him to take it all in, him never once closing his eyes. He stared at you with such intensity that you could feel it, despite your eyes being closed. 
Once you were done, you breathed deeply, throwing the cigarette on the ground, “don’t get ahead of yourself, Sim,” that’s all you said before walking back into your home, rushing up the stairs and into your room just to avoid running into him again. 
Only when you were in the safety of your room, you let out a frustrated scream right into your pillow. 
Three days in your vacation and this boy had already driven you insane to the point you had smoked right into his mouth. 
You took a warm shower before taking a nap—something you required to calm your heart before you saw him at dinner, again. 
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In contrast to yesterday, when he didn’t provide you with an ounce of attention, his behaviour had done a solid one eighty as now, he provided you with his utmost attention, passing you subtle smirks during the entirety of the dinner. 
You were more than glad when auntie Sim distracted you by indulging in random conversations, and you can easily say you enjoyed the information she was providing you with at the given moment. 
“And, and!” Auntie Sim said full of excitement, “Our Jaeyunie was four and you were three when it happened. He was so curious about you playing on the beach building sandcastles alone, he wanted to talk to you and so he collected flowers from our garden and gave them to you,” she cooed. 
You looked at the boy, surprised with the information of him being a sweet baby. Now, he was the one who tried to stop his mother from spilling the stories any further, averting his gaze but you didn’t let it go. 
“Aw! That’s so cute Jaeyunie. Where are my flowers now?” You asked, voice annoyingly high to bother him. 
Your grandma laughed as auntie Sim only urged Jake to get some for you. He looked your way, annoyed and you only passed him a sweet smile. 
You couldn’t deny, being a menace did feel good at times and the dinner wasn’t so bad after all. 
Yet, the events of the evening didn’t let you sleep, causing you to walk on the balcony yet again and you couldn’t miss the figure clad in all black leaving your neighbour’s home yet again, at two after midnight nonetheless. 
It wasn’t something you should be indulging in yet you couldn’t help but wonder.
What exactly was Jake up to? 
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In these ten days of vacation, you had done quite a few things which included learning a few recipes with your grandma, bickering with your neighbour, minus the proximity as you made your mission to stay away for the sake of your poor heart. Majorly, you had grown to adore the beautiful beach which was right behind your home. 
Seeing how you had nothing to do in the given moment, you found yourself sitting on the warmth of the sand yet again, close enough for your feet to touch the water which was cold, juxtaposing the temperature of your body.  
You didn’t know how long you sat there dazed, watching the never ending blue waves stretching as far as possible, till you gasped and got taken back into reality once a hand on your shoulder shook you in annoyance. 
It was none other than Jake, who stood there with his jaw clenched, a bouquet of flowers resting in his right hand, causing you to raise your brows at him. 
“Mom forced me to do this, okay?” He huffed, handing you over the multicoloured bundle of happiness. 
It didn’t matter that it was Jake who gave you the flowers, it still made you happy, a smile growing on your face as the scent infiltrated your senses. 
This certainly wasn’t the kind of reaction Jake was expecting from you. He was sure you’d throw a snarky remark or maybe simply not take the flowers from him, but even you couldn’t deny the beauty of nature. 
“Thank you,” you whispered under your breath, surprising him even more. 
It was one of the days you felt calm, not wanting to channelize your energy into something as useless as picking up a fight, however, Jake won’t leave without that happening. 
“That’s it? You just need flowers to shut up?” He tantalizes you to answer back. 
You only give him a sour look in return, wondering what he’s even doing on the beach wearing shoes, clad in leather jacket as if he was going for the cliché illegal races you see in movies. 
“You should go, Jaeyunie,” you nodded with a fake smile. 
Your phone started ringing just then, and Jake caught the display name right before you picked up the call. 
It was Lee Heeseung—the guy who was your study partner in school and also the guy who was your competition when it came to academics. 
The call wasn’t long, he had simply contacted you to inform you about the university he got into as you also filled him up with the university you got accepted into. 
You assumed that Jake would have gone back, which wasn’t the case as he stood behind you, eavesdropping shamelessly. His expression turned into one of realization when he saw you actually smiling and talking sweetly to whoever was the guy who had called you, a scoff leaving his mouth on its own accord. 
“Yeah! Yeah, of course. Will text you later, goodbye!” You smiled, concluding the conversation only to find Jake still standing at the same spot, making you look at him in question. 
“Didn’t know you had a boyfriend,” he said, seeming bored. 
A sigh left your mouth, Jake was great at making assumptions, “why do you care?” You asked. 
“I don’t,” he replied, not missing a beat, “I should go, I have work to do,” he said, walking back to his place. 
Your lips worked before you could process anything, “yeah? Like you do every night?” You asked. 
He stilled, turning back in a second and crouching down to your level, grabbing your nape, pulling you close to him, “don’t get involved in my matters, Y/n. I’m saying this for your own fucking good,” he seethed out, causing you to gulp, your heartbeat rising up due to the proximity again. 
“What are you up to, Jakey?” You asked teasingly, trying to diffuse the tension. 
“Nothing that concerns you, princess. I’m being serious, okay?” He held eye contact, repeating the last word again, and you nodded. 
“Okay,” you mumbled as you felt him caressing your nape gently before he got up, leaving you there wordlessly. 
You didn’t realize how hard you were clutching the flowers while watching his walking figure. The sudden mood switch made you curious, and despite him warning you, it was something you wanted to see for yourself. 
Was he in trouble? Was he caught up in illegal activities? Or was he simply out partying somewhere?
Another sigh left your lips. 
You shouldn’t get involved in his matters. 
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You got yourself involved in his matters. 
Sneaking out of your home was easy and you made sure to grab your jacket as the night got chillier than usual. All this to follow Jake. 
It was easy since he didn’t use any cars, walking towards his desired destination. It almost felt comical how you tried to tiptoe for a total of fifteen minutes, hiding in random alleyways whenever you made even the slightest noise of stepping on a pebble. 
For a second you even regretted coming out and spending so much energy on this, till you saw Jake actually stop and get inside an alleyway, which you approached exactly two minutes after he went in. 
Peeking in, you noticed how wide the way actually was, people clad in black and hoodies which hid their faces were present all over, more than thirty people you’d estimate. 
You squint your eyes to get a better focus of what they were up to, only for them to widen in realization when you found them exchanging packets and smoking what looked like drugs. Jake was also engaged in a conversation with a guy, purchasing drugs from him, which caused you to gasp slowly. 
“Looking for something, kid?” A deep, hoarse voice spoke near your ear, causing you to flinch and move away, turning around to see a guy full of tattoos smiling down at you, which disgusted you. 
“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, looking towards your right to see Jake looking your way, eyes full of shock and worry as he whispered your name under his breath, not believing that you’d actually follow him there despite him saying a firm no to you. 
Maybe he was right, maybe you shouldn’t have come here. 
“Uhm, I—I lost my way back home. I’ll get going now, I didn’t see anything I promise! You guys please continue,” you said, trying to sprint but the guy was quick to hold your jacket, making you stop as Jake rushed your way, leaving whatever he was up to. 
Before anyone could take up any action, the sound of police sirens alerted everyone in the vicinity, which was more than enough for all the guys to scramble as you stood there with panic, trying to move your body seeing how the guys were climbing up the wall full of graffiti on the other side as it was the only way to their escapade. 
“Run,” Jake breathed out, grabbing your smaller hand in his without any notice and running towards the same way, his jaw was clenched. 
You followed wordlessly, mouth open with how deeply you were breathing, chest heaving up and down while you ran and reached the wall. 
The sirens got closer as if someone had tipped the cops to search this particular area and you were worried if you both would get caught up in this mess. 
“Jump,” he commanded and you stared at the wall, shaking your head. 
“I—I can’t,” you stuttered, watching how the others claimed it 
He pulled you closer, picking you up with ease as to provide you with some kind of elevation, which definitely helped when you grabbed on to the top brick, pushing your body up and jumping to the other side, stumbling slighting as you fell down. 
Jake was swift, landing by your side before he grabbed your hand again, pulling you up with him to run again. Your legs hurt yet you didn’t stop till he pulled you by his side, getting a bobby pin out of his pocket to unlock the door, which he opened in a go and pulled you inside, locking the door. 
Silence. 
Your breathing is all you could hear, but Jake’s eyes were louder than anything else, which scared you even further. 
“I specifically told you to stay out of it, what’s so hard to understand here?” He more or less shouted, pushing you against the wall. 
You gulped, not looking at his face but he wasn’t having it, he grabbed your chin and forced you to look his way. 
“What if they did something to you? What if the police caught you? What if something had happened to you?” His voice got smaller after each sentence, more breathy and desperate, making your heart break when he genuinely made it seem like he cared about you. 
“I’m sorry,” you muttered, which probably wasn’t helpful at the given second, “I thought that you were in trouble and,” you whispered, not having more to say. 
He sighed, resting his forehead on yours as his eyes closed to get some rest. You couldn’t move, your whole body felt more alive than ever, maybe it was the adrenaline rush, or simply Jake being so close to you. 
He stepped back after a few seconds, “go change,” he said, and that’s when you looked around to find yourself in a boutique full of clothes. 
“W—why?” You asked. 
“Because the cop saw us, he knows what we’re wearing,” he answered, trying to find clothes his size. 
Maybe he saw you when you were climbing up, meaning that you barely escaped him. 
“But surveillance cameras? Technically, won’t this be considered stealing?” You bit your lip. 
“There are none,” he replied, “and we have more pressing matters than to sit and worry about stealing.”
You nodded even though he wasn’t looking your way, trying to find some outfit, or rather, you were stealing it given the circumstances. 
“So, why were you out there?” 
“I should be asking you that, Y/n,” he said when you went into the changing room. 
“You had drugs with you!” Your voice boomed from the stall and he simply took off his shirt in the store. 
“So what?” He uttered, pissed. 
“Did you smoke drugs that day too? Did you give me drugs?” You screeched while asking and he opened the curtains, seeing you soothing the top down. 
“I don’t fucking do drugs,” he groaned, “I buy it and sell it to the guys next town at a higher price,” he explained. 
The dim light from the changing stall only enhanced Jake’s shirtless body, his abs full on display alongside his torso, which was well built. Your eyes settled on the tattoo he had on his left side of the rib. 
Taking a step further, your fingers gently traced the intricate design, making him shiver without you knowing, his fingers clasping around your wrist to keep it away again. 
“What do you think you’re doing?” He whispered. 
“I—” you started speaking, looking at him with wide eyes which shone of innocence and worry, lips jutted in the slightest pout and hair slightly messy. 
“You’re driving me crazy,” he breathes out, not letting you complete your sentence, coming closer to your face, “why do you have to do everything I tell you not to do?” He asked, however his tone wasn’t filled with anger. 
It was something you quite couldn’t pinpoint yourself. 
He sighed, “let’s get you home.”
“Are we gonna walk back? Isn’t it too dangerous?” You asked as he turned around to put on a shirt averting your eyes from his back which flexed with his movements, your body felt warm and throat parched, especially when he turned around with a smirk. 
“We’re driving back home.”
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You soon found yourself on a lookout at the garage entrance of what Jake called an illegal garage which was used for repairing old racing cars. The place wasn’t authorized, which is why stealing from here would work perfectly. 
“How do you even know this?” You asked, exasperated as your nerves got the best of you. 
It certainly didn’t help that the place was dark, and Jake wasn’t replying as he was hot wiring the car without a number plate 
You had no idea where he learned that from. 
“You need to learn things if you want to survive in this world, darling,” he said, focusing on his work, not once thinking how you’d shiver with his use of nicknames. 
He’s glad it’s not some new high tech car, which he won’t be able to hot wire as they contain ignition immobilizers, which makes it impossible for it to happen—you nodded as he explained all of this, your focus elsewhere. 
“Let’s go,” he said after a few minutes, seemingly done with his work. 
You rushed to get into the car, a scream leaving your mouth as he started driving almost instantly, his fingers gripping the steering wheels hard enough for his veins to pop out as you struggled to put on the seatbelt. 
“I can’t believe this is actually happening,” you let out in half a scream. 
“Why? Not having fun now, princess?” He chuckled as he changed the gear, resting his hand on your thighs right after which caused you to squirm around in your seat. 
Your body was extra attentive when he was around, and you weren’t sure how to control your heart anymore, so you closed your eyes. 
“What’s so fun about this?” You asked, clutching the seatbelt. 
“You,” he confessed, messing up with your brain even further. 
“I hate you,” you mumbled, looking elsewhere. 
You didn’t trust his driving despite it seeming effortless, he was over speeding after all. 
“Now, we both know that’s not true, princess,” he stated and you huffed, knowing that he was right ignoring the fact that he was insufferable. 
His pace ensured you to reach home in record time, your legs felt wobbly the second you stepped on the road. 
“Stay here, I’ll be back in a second,” he rushed, leaving you standing alone as he parked the car outside a random garage two minutes away from your place. 
It was hard to believe how you got chased by police, stole clothes and a fully functional car all in one night. 
You saw him jogging back to you after a few minutes, standing right in front of you, “I think I should get back now,” you started to stay, however he stopped you. 
“You can’t do that, your gate’s got a surveillance camera so we need to go from the back side,” he stated, his hand automatically reaching for yours as you started to make way towards the back side, on the sand. 
All of a sudden, you felt smaller, heat creeping up your neck due to the body contact and you let him guide you wordlessly before you realized something. 
“Wait, how will you go back? Your place doesn’t have a back door,” you asked and he shrugged. 
“I’ll just jump to the other side of the garden wall, princess. You don’t need to worry about me,” he teased and you pushed him away, the warmth of his hand leaving yours. 
Tiptoeing into your home, you shut the back door as silently as possible before you rushed up the stairs and almost into your room, only to find Jake coming up with you. 
“What are you doing?” You whisper asked, eyes wide. 
“I’m curious about your room,” he answered with that usual smirk of his and you wanted nothing more than to slap it off his face. 
“You—” you tried to say, but stopped the second you heard another voice. 
“Oh, Peanut? You’re awake?” Your grandma’s voice called out from the balcony, and your mouth hung open as you shoved Jake into your room in an effort to hide him. 
“Y—yes, Gigi! I woke up to get some water,” you lied, wincing slightly as she acknowledged it and wished you a good night in her soft tone. 
You rushed in and locked the door, only to find Jake getting cozy in your bed. 
It was one of those days when your grandma missed your grandpa, and she spent hours on the balcony, looking at the glistening stars to find solace. You felt sad but the more pressing matter here was—how to get Jake out of your room? 
He can’t leave from the back door, he can’t go out from the front door as Gigi would see him, your room windows weren’t the opening type which left you with no option but for him to spend the night right here, with you. 
“Now what?” You asked, hand on your forehead while you paced around the room. 
“What? We sleep together, of course.” He had a cheeky smile on his face. 
“Are you crazy?” You almost screamed, but you didn’t wanna alert your grandma, which made you repeat it in a hushed tone.
“Why? Too scared to sleep with me? You’re the reason we’re in this situation, princess,” he smirked. 
You sighed. He was right about that part but you weren’t willing to sleep with him, so you proceeded to ignore him as you went into the bathroom to change into your comfortable clothes for the night. 
Jake simply patted the bed when you came out, silently asking you to sit next to him, and suddenly you realized that you’re locked up in a room with him, which didn’t help your nerves as you sat down with him. 
Somehow everything was rebellious against your rules when it concerned Sim Jaeyun. 
“Can’t you sleep on the floor?” You almost whined. 
He cocked his brow, “is that what I get after helping you escape?”
“That’s not it—”
“So? Is it the boyfriend?”
“I don’t have any—”
“The guy you were talking to in the morning.”
“He’s a friend—”
“Then there’s no problem, right?” he rasped. 
You didn’t realize your lip was bitten till his thumb brushed against your bottom lip, tugging on it gently to free it, caressing it while looking into your eyes. 
“Right?” He repeated. 
“Yeah,” you breathed, nodding ever so slightly. 
“Atta girl,” he chuckled, flustering you as you tried to look away, which wasn’t something Jake allowed, his fingers gripping your chin now, “god, you look so fucking innocent.”
“I’m not!” You argued. 
“Yeah? Have you been kissed before, princess?” He asks, amused. 
His deep voice sends a shiver down your spine, to the point you almost whimpered out loud, but you were glad you didn’t, “no. But that doesn’t mean I haven’t fucked anyone before.” You confessed, eyes on his plump lips. 
“Oh? Who’s the loser who fucked you without even kissing your prettiest lips?” He asked, frustrated that someone even dared to touch you, even though his words said otherwise. 
You gulped, “we were drunk,” you whispered, remembering your graduation party and how the guy had failed to please you. 
“Did he make you feel good?” Jake asked, expression serious. 
“What?” You were surprised by his question. 
He wasted no time in pulling you to his lap, your gasp only made him smirk wider, his hands resting on your waist, squeezing it lightly. 
“Did he satisfy you, princess?” His voice was an octave deeper, giving you goosebumps. 
“H—he didn’t,” you stutter, which pissed him further, his jaw tensed. 
“So you’re telling me that some asshole was deep inside you and didn’t even bother making you feel good?” He scoffed. 
“Jake—”
“Y’know what I would have done instead?” He asked, caressing your cheek, his thumb resting on your lips right after, “I’d kiss your lips till you get obsessed with mine.” his hooded eyes lured you in. 
His fingers travelled down to your neck, rubbing circles just above your clavicle, “I’d kiss you till my lips memorize every inch of your body, till your mind goes blank,” he whispers, biting your earlobe. 
You breathe in deeply, a whimper leaving your mouth, Jake’s name rolling off your tongue in a whisper right after, making him groan in response. 
“I’d ruin you, princess,” he breathes, eyes meeting yours. 
“Please.” You struggled to breathe, his pointy nose brushing against yours, lips threatening to kiss. 
“Say it,” he urged you, pulling your body impossibly closer on his lap. 
There was no denying that Jake made you lose every sense of rationality and morals in you, it almost felt as if you were intoxicated in his presence, your heart raced, thumping faster than ever, urging you to say yes. 
“Please ruin me, Jake,” you whispered, giving in and looking at him with innocent eyes. 
“That’s a good girl.” 
He was swift to push you down on the mattress, getting on top of you with hungry eyes to the point you almost felt as if you were a prey, and you liked it. 
His cold chain brushed against your clavicle, making you shiver as he leaned down to press his lips against yours in a fervent kiss, a groan leaving his mouth as he finally had you so close to him. 
Your fingers held on to his shoulders desperately, he was difficult to resist, and who were you to resist such pleasure? His plush lips moulding against yours, his hand squeezing your waist as you allowed yourself to get immersed into him. 
You could feel the warmth spreading in your abdomen like wildfire, a gasp giving him the perfect opportunity to taste you, sliding his tongue down your mouth to deepen the kiss, the taste of chocolate lingering in his mouth and you let yourself moan into his lips. 
You tugged on his hair, realizing how correct he was about you being obsessed with his lips as you found yourself chasing after it when he broke the kiss, making him chuckle at your desperation. 
“So fucking pretty,” he muttered, staring at your slightly swollen lips, which glistened with the mixture of your spit. 
He wasn’t the one to waste time, his tongue licking your neck, placing kisses all over it, causing you to squirm and pant till he found the spot which had you rolling your eyes with sheer pleasure. 
Placing a hand over your mouth to silence your moans, he felt a feeling of possessiveness take over him. You looked so fucked out and he hadn’t even done anything to you yet, he wasn’t sure what he’d do if he sees someone else with you. 
The mere thought had him biting and sucking on your skin in an attempt to mark the very spot which had you shivering and your toes curling. He slipped his other hand inside your flimsy tee, and in your bra, feeling your hardened nipples which he flicked between his fingers. 
Your body felt more awake than ever, each touch of his getting a reaction out of you, “so responsive, have you been waiting for this, princess?” 
You could only nod in desperation, trying your best to keep your moans at bay, not wanting to alert your grandma. He kissed your cheek before he got up to get rid of his own clothes, giving you a few seconds to stare at his faint abs, highlighted by the dim lights along with his tattoo, which you so desperately wanted to kiss. 
The image of you looking his way with such big eyes, chest heaving up and down only ignited the carnal feeling of him wanting to be deep inside you. 
It all felt new to you, being aware and not drunk this time, however it wasn’t just that—Jake made you feel this way, your thighs closing when you felt a fluttering sensation down your abdomen. 
“Undress,” he ordered. 
“What—”
“Undress for me, darling,” his words were smoother than the melted butter, making you work upon it instantly. 
His eyes were fixated on your figure the entire time you took to get your clothing off, feeling shy under his gaze, not to mention the outline of his cock in his boxers intrigued you even further. 
“Fuck, you’re all mine,” he said under his breath. 
His plush lips were soon on your tits, his other hand fondling and caressing your nipple while he worked his tongue, swirling it ever so perfectly before giving it a soft bite, making you arch your back as you bit on your discarded clothes, tears forming in your eyes with these euphoric sensations. 
He’s giving you all you could ask for and you? You’re a mess with your lipstick smudged and ragged breathing. Just when you thought that Jake couldn’t get you anymore wilder, he stuffed his hand down your wet panties, which brushed against your extremely sensitive clit. Even biting your clothes couldn’t stop a moan coming out of your mouth. 
“You like it, baby? That’s my good girl. So pretty and wet all for daddy, yeah? Daddy’s gonna taste you now, princess,” his spoke, his accent deep. 
“Daddy?” you asked, whimpering right after when his lips touched your bare pussy, pressing a kiss on your clit. 
There was something in the way he addressed himself so confidently which made you want to submit yourself to him fully, only pushing yourself deeper into sub space as he worshipped every inch of your body. 
“That’s right, baby,” he spoke against your, sending waves of pleasure through your body as his strong hands held your thighs open. 
Obscene noises of him licking and sucking resonated the room as you bucked up your hips unconsciously, desperate for friction, making his cock twitch while he licked languid strokes up and down your cunt, his hot breath fanning your folds, wishing to hear you moan despite the circumstances. 
“Shh, princess. We don’t want your grandma to know now, do we?” He smirked. 
Your hand slithers into Jake’s hair, tugging on it as you convulse in pleasure, letting him continue his ministrations on your leaking pussy, his lips soft unlike his actions, which were rushed and aimed at your pleasure. 
Your eyes roll back, arousal reaching its peak at the unadulterated pleasure as you repeated his name when he moved down to shove his tongue into your cunt, lapping at your juices when you reach your orgasm. 
Yet he doesn’t stop, inserting his slender finger in your tight hole, pumping it in and out gently at first while you whine and he gets up, wetness coating his lips. He lets you taste yourself by kissing you yet again, his fingers entertaining your cunt. 
Your breaths are heavier, louder and you can’t wait to have his cock shoved into you. You weren’t the one to have lewd thoughts in general yet here you were, moaning into Jake’s mouth, clenching around his two fingers which thrusted into you at a newfound speed. 
“Yes, daddy! Yes, oh god,” you mumbled to yourself, letting the lust consume you. 
His fingers curled inside you before he decided that you were ready for his cock. 
“Let’s see how desperate you are, beg for daddy’s cock,  princess,” he demanded. 
Now that his cock was in view, you stared at it dumbfounded. It was veiny and stood hard and leaking, the tip was red and ready to fuck you dumb, it pushed you over the edge. 
“Please, daddy? I’ll be a good girl for y—you please fuck me?” A tear left your eye, tainting your image even further which aroused Jake as a sadistic smile overtook his face. 
You continued to beg him, and he gave you no warning as he lined his tip on your entrance, coating it with your juices, almost pushing it all in but instead, he gave you just the tip, which made you beg out of frustration. 
“Tell me about your darkest fantasies,” Jake teased, seeing you pout and whine, “do it baby, only then you’ll get this cock into you.”
You were going crazy, “I—I want to be fucked awake,” you confessed, hiding your face. 
“Is that so? How cute,” he commented, pulling your body flush. 
Within a second, he thrusted into you sharply, your wet juices acting as the perfect lube to suck his cock right in as he bottomed out fully, cussing at the feeling of your walls clenching around him. 
You could feel the imprint of his dick on your lower abdomen, and he pressed on it with a proud smirk, only to make you whimper lowly, your voice quivering with deep he was in you, “big—so big.”
You laid beneath Jake in such a way that the sight was captivating for him, your vulnerability paired with his ignited primal hunger. 
He firmly wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling out slightly before he thrusted into you again as you were clinging onto him. 
He had never found anyone like you before, it was as if you were the only one for him, the one who reacts to his touch in such ways, the one who drives him insane to the point he has to rile you up just to get you to talk to him. 
His slow thrusts soon turned into relentless, pleasure inducing thrusts, and you found yourself bucking your hips up to meet him, helping him reach deeper spots in you, his tip hitting your g-spot. 
Choked moans escaped your lips, reaching the point of complete incoherence as you got drunk in the intensity of Jake’s presence, your senses overwhelmed as he fucked you without any interruptions. 
“Daddy—please!”
Sensing that you were close, he thrusted harder, twitching inside your pussy, his lips capturing yours as you both cried out, reaching your climax in harmony, breathing in deeply before he filled you up with his warm cum, which mixed with your own juices. 
“Fuck,” you breathed out, causing him to laugh and pull you in a sweet kiss. 
You could see the clear switch in his demeanour when he cleaned you up, asking gentle questions about how you felt or if he went overboard. 
He was perfect. 
Something had changed in the air, and you both were aware of it, but rather than verbalising it, you slept in each other’s arms, Jake staying up a few minutes just to see your peaceful face. 
“Good night, princess.”
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Jake woke up early despite not getting enough sleep, still not believing that he fucked you—the prettiest girl he swore he’d ever laid eyes on. 
And he was sure to make your desires come true. 
You wore nothing but his shirt to sleep, which made your pussy accessible to him, his fingers playing with your folds ever so gently as he didn’t wish to wake you up, not this soon at least. 
He continued to do so for a remarkably long time, smiling each time he saw you stir in your sleep, his lips leaving kisses on your neck and shoulder blades till you were fully wet for him. 
Jake was shocked when you revealed that you were into somnophilia, but who was he to deny his girl some pleasure?
His other hand was busy taking care of his raging boner, seeing you dressed in his shirt, your scent mixed with his only drove him crazy. 
His grip on your thighs was firm when he straddled you, pumping his cock a few times before he pushed it in you with a few thrusts, the stretch being enough to wake you up with a whimper, your state disoriented but the second you realized that Jake was making your wish actually come true, you moaned. 
His dick throbbed inside you and you were still not over last night’s adventure as curse words filled the air, along with the mist of your unholy activities and fervent longing as he thrusted with a groan, kissing and nibbling on the skin of your neck. 
You were sure you had bruises forming on your clavicle by now, which also extended down your breasts and inner thighs, Jake being particular about having you marked through and through. 
You could only sigh and plead for more, beg for more, the word daddy coming out of your mouth effortlessly, which was effective to the point it made Jake fuel with desire as he provided you with the most overwhelming, ecstasy filled orgasm, him coming all over your pussy, pulling out this time. 
“I like you,” he revealed all of a sudden, his smile the epitome of boyishness which made you chuckle with your newfound happiness. 
That’s one good way to wake up in the morning. 
“Guess what, Sim. I like you too,” you confessed, growing shy by the last word and he pulled you in a sweet hug, swinging your body along his, your laughter filling up the room. 
You gasped, looking at him with wide eyes.  
You had forgotten to help him escape without your grandma knowing. 
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The escape was successful, and so were your holidays which were nearing. Your sadness was apparent on your face, having no desire to go back leaving your grandma and aunt Sim. 
More importantly, Jake. 
It has become a routine for him to slip into your room ever so professionally to sleep with you—some nights you did sleep, other nights he gave you every reason to be awake. 
Which also served as a solid reason for Jake to stop indulging in the so called drug trade, one instance of almost being caught was enough for you both, not that you were involved in the first place. 
He opened up to you, actually acting like a goof at times, juxtaposing his usual bad boy demeanour. He provided you with the best of both worlds. 
Your feelings for the guy you used to find annoying were increasing at record speed per day, and now that it was finally one day before you’d leave, you couldn’t help but be bothered by Jake’s absence. 
He’s always around, which made you wonder where and what he was up to, especially when you wanted nothing more than to spend your time in his arms, lip quivering at the thought that he might not wish to see you anymore.
However, that wasn’t the case when he showed up in the doorway, huffing and hair messy as if he was running. 
“Jaeyun,” you whispered, letting him pull you in the comfort of his warm arms. 
“I’m coming,” he breathed, making you look at him with wide eyes. 
“What?” You blinked, almost stuttering. 
“I’m coming to Seoul with you, princess. I got into the same university,” he chuckled as you snatched the envelope from him, jumping with excitement as tears filled your eyes, hugging him even tighter. 
You felt like your heart was going to explode with the excitement, which Jake found heartwarming. He had planned this the second he saw you and got to know you. It was a given that he wanted to be with you. 
“What about your mom?” You asked softly, realizing that she’d be alone. 
“She’s gonna stay with Gigi. Our ladies are strong women, right?” He asked, caressing your lip, which you had noticed was his habit. 
“W—when did you even apply—this is so amazing,” you went on rambling, which was something he adored, but kissing your lips to shut you up was his favourite thing, especially when he got to see your shy smile right after. 
“So, we’re gonna be together?” You questioned, shyness taking over. 
“You’re wrong if you think you’ll ever get rid of me now, princess,” he smirked, teasing you again. 
This side of him made you faux scoff, “but what if I want to get rid of you?” You challenged, knowing well you weren’t capable of that. 
He took a step closer to you, his broad smile illuminating the room, his hand resting on your waist pulling you closer, “I’d like to see you try and escape me,” he retorted. 
“You want me that much, huh?” Your smile was coy. 
He brushed your nose tip with his, making you chuckle with joy. 
“I’ll always want my princess.”
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THANK YOU FOR READING!
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pedroshotwifey · 10 days
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Do you think you could write a nervous Joel fic... like he's older and a single dad and hasn't dated in a REALLY REALLY long time...but he's still really sweet, maybe he has to stop and eat reader cos he's about to cum too soon or something 🤷‍♀️😭
Hey, babe!! So I hope this is what you were hoping for! It's super tender and I did end up listening to Hozier for a good portion of it, so do with that information what you will 😅
Also, I kind of did something a bit different and wrote it more from Joel's perspective, but it's still in 2nd person (pronouns = you)! Pls lmk how you feel about it ❤
Pairing: Older Joel Miller x afab!reader
Tags/warnings: Age gap (not specified), piv sex, oral sex (f), vaginal fingering, multiple orgasms, established relationship, (almost) premature ejaculation, accidental love confessions 🤭, self deprecating Joel™, big dick Joel™, kissing, stuff I'm probably forgetting
W/C: 1.9k
Summary: Your and Joel's first time together turns into so much more.
What Matters
“Are you sure, baby?” 
Joel watches as your eyes flick up to him, only kindness and patience in them. Even as you smile warmly and wrap your arms around his neck to pull him to you, he still has a sense of cautiousness in his movements. You’ve probably lost track of how many times he’s asked you if you’re sure. 
“Yes, Joel, I’m sure,” you laugh breathily. 
You’re both lying in his bed, half-naked. There’s a soft summer breeze coming in through the window and rustling the sheer curtains. The sun’s going down, but just barely, causing a perfect golden hue to coat the room. He can’t help but think that you look even more gorgeous than usual in this lighting.
Joel tries to ignore the nervousness in his stomach as he softly kisses your jaw and nuzzles up to you. He’s not stupid, he knows that you know he’s just trying to waste time, but you let him. You’re so fucking sweet like that. Always making him feel so wanted and appreciated. It’s not that he doesn’t want to be with you in this way, but that he’s worried he won’t be perfect for you. He wants to be able to show you affection in the same way that you show him. 
But what if he can’t?
You’re younger, after all, and he’s not been with a woman in so long. Maybe not since Sarah’s mom. If that’s the case, it’s been about fifteen, sixteen years. Point in case, you’re probably used to boys who can last longer and can make you come every time. What if he can’t? What if it’s been so long now, that he only lasts a couple of minutes? 
It terrifies him, the prospect that you may be disappointed in his performance. What if you decide to leave him because he’s not enough to get you off? No, he realizes, you would never do that. You’re so good, so thoughtful and generous and patient. You’d wait for him, help him get back to the point where he used to be. 
But that’s not what he wants. He wants to be good for you now. 
“Joel?” 
His name falling from your lips has his head raising back up. You look into his eyes with a desperation that he simply can’t ignore. 
“Please,” you whisper before planting a feather-light kiss to his lips. He nods slowly before he can think about it. 
“Alright, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” 
And he does, he knows it. He just hopes he can do it right. 
You’re already prepped. He spent probably half an hour fingering you to orgasm even though you had begged for the real thing each time you fell apart on his hand. It’s another thing he was worried about—being so big. Joel’s not a super cocky man by any means, but he is aware of his…attributes. 
He watches you carefully as he grasps his cock and guides it to your slippery entrance. Your eyes flutter shut as he pushes in, giving you about an inch each time he thrusts. His jaw goes slack once he’s about halfway in. You’re so fucking warm and wet and inviting. He keeps going, trying to keep his breathy whines at bay. He’s again reminded of just how long it’s been since he’s felt something other than the palm of his hand around himself. 
“Shit, baby,” he breathes as he bottoms out. He closes his eyes in concentration and lets his head hang next to yours. He already feels like he might blow his load at any second. You bring a hand up to cup his head and thread his curls through your fingers, holding him close. His breathing is heavy when he lifts himself back up to look into your eyes. 
His heart seems to skip a beat when he sees the adoration you’re looking at him with. It kills him every time. And no matter how many times you tell him that he deserves all your affection, he knows he’ll still find a lingering doubt in the back of his mind. There’s a reason the two of you have only been “together” for about four months even though you’ve been shamelessly flirting for about a year. 
It was just too good to be true. For such a sweet, gentle thing like you to want a rough old man like him. He was never the one to initiate anything, but he knows you’ve been aware that he had his sore eyes set on you since you met. How could he not? He’s never met anyone so kind and considerate. It was impossible to deny you of him any longer when it was one of the only things you’ve ever wanted for yourself. 
“You okay?” Your honeyed voice reaches his ears—or his good ear, rather—and he smiles at you. 
“‘Course, baby. Jus’ gotta give me a second, alright?” He can feel his cheeks getting a bit rosy at the confession. “It’s been a minute.” 
You nod, still no hesitation or any sign of regret. God, what did he do to deserve you? 
Once he collects himself, he pulls out just barely, and a groan tumbles from his mouth to mingle with your soft moan. He’s already starting to sweat from the effort of not coming too soon as he starts to push into you at a slow but rhythmic pace. You wrap your arms around his broad shoulders and tuck your head into his chest as you whimper with his thrusts. 
“You feel so good,” you whine. 
“Fuck, sweetheart, so d’ you. “Like goddamn heaven.” And you do; overwhelmingly so.
He cradles your head and lowers the two of you even more to deepen his thrusts. He knows he’s found your spot when your breath catches and you start to tighten around him every time he pumps his hips. Unfortunately, this makes it a lot harder for him to keep his composure. 
“H-honey, I have to pull out,” he grits out. He’s so embarrassed, it hasn’t even been five minutes. He won’t last long enough for you to come before him.
But you just nod into him, even though you must be devastated by the loss of your orgasm. “It’s okay, Joel,” you breathily assure him. 
He pulls out and squeezes the base of his cock, out of breath. He doesn’t meet your gaze as he starts to apologize.
“I’m sorry, baby, I—” 
“Joel,” You stop him by carefully grabbing his chin and forcing him to look at you. “It’s okay.” You nod, waiting for him to do the same before you continue. “Take as much time as you need. I love you no matter what. This does not determine—” 
You both realize what you said at the same time. Joel’s eyes widen and his chest feels like it caved into itself. Your lips stay still, parted in the middle of your sentence. Joel doesn’t realize tears have gathered in his eyes until his vision starts to blur and a smile spreads across his face. 
You love him. You said it. And he believes you. 
“I love you too, baby,” he whispers and lets his forehead rest against yours. “So damn much.” Fuck his age and whoever might see a problem with you being together. He wants this, and you want this, and that’s all that matters. 
Then you’re both laughing shakily, pressing kisses to each other’s lips. He only stops to start trailing them down your body instead, watching you writhe as his mustache tickles your bare skin. 
“Joel, p-please,” you beg quietly. Joel just huffs a small laugh through his nose as he lays himself between your legs, ignoring his protesting knees as he admires the entirety of you laying out just for him. You look fucking beautiful covered in a thin sheen of sweat atop his sheets, needy and panting all for him. 
He doesn’t waste too much time before putting his mouth on your sweet pussy, his tongue dragging up your slit to flick at your clit. Joel moans at your taste, sending vibrations racing toward your swollen bud. Your hips buck as your hands fly to grasp at his hair, tugging lightly and making his eyes roll back. 
He feasts on you like his life depends on it, worshiping you with all he has. He takes turns in running his tongue up you, fucking you with it the best he can, and suckling on your clit. He looks like a damn mess as he does so, his eyes not leaving your cunt unless he’s watching your face contort with pleasure. When you make eye contact with him, he knows he must look fucked out and desperate just based on the way you groan and lay your head back. 
It doesn’t take much for you to get to the edge, and it takes even less for him to push you over. You let out sharp, whiny sounds as he sucks on your clit and slips a couple of fingers inside of you to grip on to. Your entire body goes tense, and Joel has to resist the urge to smirk against you as you shake with the force of your orgasm. 
By the time you’re coming down, he’s back over you and slipping his tongue inside your mouth to share your taste. You moan into the kiss and pull him closer as he once again glides his tip into your cunt. Just as he had hoped, the distraction calmed him down enough to hopefully give him some more time. 
You both melt into each other as he bottoms out, the tip of his swollen cock hitting your cervix and making your thighs squeeze his torso. He starts at a faster pace than last time, too deep in his lust-filled haze to even try to slow down now. 
You pull away from his mouth to start leaving love bites on his neck, making his cock twitch inside of you with each pinch. He can feel you smile against his skin, and knows that you’ve found his secret. He does like a little pain with his pleasure. You keep going, sucking and biting marks before licking soothingly over them and moving to the next spot. You taste him like you’re addicted, like you could never possibly get enough.
It still doesn’t take him as long as he would like to before he starts to feel his balls drawing up and his thighs start to shake. His head goes foggy as he tries to hold on for you, but it’s too fucking much. He can’t hold it off when you feel so good around him. It’s like torture to stave off his orgasm when he’s thrusting into your soft heat. 
“Where d’ you want me, honey?” Joel asks you, his voice strained. 
“Inside,” you whisper against his neck without a second thought.
And it throws him over. He groans your name as his body stutters and his balls empty, coating your walls with his milky spend. It seems to go on forever. Each time he thinks he’s almost done, there’s another spurt and another wave of pleasure that tugs him deeper into euphoria. 
When it does end, he lets himself half-collapse on top of you. You embrace him with welcoming arms and the two of you catch your breath together in the now dark bedroom. He only pulls out once sleep threatens to take the both of you. A shower, snack, and a glass of water later, you both snuggle up together and fall asleep with content smiles and full hearts. 
*****
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pseudowho · 17 days
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Deliverance
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Hunting down a monster, you are led to an isolated little town...and into the arms of its enigmatic priest, who harbours a dark secret.
Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Vampire!Priest!Nanami, monsterfucking, winged vampire, soft!Dom/pleasure!Dom Nanami, loss of faith/disillusionment, enemies to lovers/forbidden lovers, haematophilia, corruption kink
Very much inspired by Mike Flanagan's exceptional "Midnight Mass" which I highly recommend.
Soundtrack: "Take Me To Church" by Hozier, and "All Around Me" by Flyleaf
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The bridge to the mainland lived most of its saltcured life underwater. It rose, skeletal against the fog, as if the wreck of a ship from some bygone era, only twice a day, at low tide.
You were, by now, well-established into this friendly little town; a much-needed teacher to its handful of muddy-toed children. They did now know of your armory, your deadly weaponry. They did not know of your vow to hunt down the monsters that stalked the night.
And, they did not know how you suspected that the beast responsible for the deaths of at least 20 men on the mainland, may be one of their very own. 20 murders all occurring at low-tide, and only low-tide, could not be a coincidence.
They were all scum, you mused to yourself, all rapists, paedophiles and murderers...so perhaps it does have some sort of moral code. It must be here, you reasoned, fingers tapping the woody shelves of your little school cupboard in thought.
Your hunt was hampered by the timekeeping of this sleepy fishing town; often up before sunrise to take to the sea, and back before the sun broke above the horizon, it was not unusual for its residents to sleep during the day, and rise in time for the sunset. Its little church even held an evening mass, attended by plentiful nocturnal residents, after dinner.
"Hello?" A rich baritone, which was beginning to feel so intimately familiar to you, stirred an illicit want in your belly. He called your name. You could not help but run to him.
"--sorry, I'm-- I'm here! In the cupboard!" You called out, breathless in...what? Your rush to get to him? Anticipation? Something...more?
You flurried round the corner, all eager smiles, flyaway hairs and dimples. Your eyes melted so softly upon each others' forms, both sighing with relief. Neither of you knew how the other stirred within.
"Ke--...Father Nanami. What a lovely surprise. You're not usually up so early."
Nanami Kento cut an imposing figure in his cassock and white collar. He was a big man, with mountainous shoulders, and long, broad hands. You remembered the heat that pooled in your belly, the first time he had rolled up his sleeves to help you to move supplies into the schoolhouse, his forearms so alluringly thick and corded. His size belied an easy grace, and the elegant quick-step of a busy, intelligent man.
"I found myself unable to sleep," Kento admitted, his head bowed and hands clasped as he stepped to you. He seemed paler than usual, as he continued, "I was thinking abo--...just, thinking." He finished weakly. His eyes drew so fleetingly to your fast little pulse, thrumming from your throat, down your cleavage. His mouth dried, a double-edged hunger climbing down his abdomen.
"...thinking?" You offered, slowly closing the distance between you. You ached to remove it completely, your respect for his holy vows the only thing that contained you. Kento cleared his throat, running one strong finger between his neck, and corseting black and white collar.
"...wondering. If you would be attending mass. Tonight. I have miss--...you have missed the past week, I believe."
Ah. Yes. There was rarely another time when the homes of the local residents were empty enough to allow for investigation. You had only a few more to ransack, to find your monster, and you could feel yourself closing in on it. You felt a heavy rock of regret in your belly, and you clasped one of Kento's cool, pale hands in your own. His cock twitched, to feel the burn of your flesh against his, in ways so much less intimate than what he had imagined, alone at night.
"I'm so sorry...not tonight," you frowned, and you hurried to reassure Kento as he visibly deflated, "But tomorrow, I promise you. I'll come. Truly." Kento's face, so angular and strong, softened down at you with the hint of a smile.
His hand raised up for a moment, hesitating, before cupping your cheek. You felt your heart skip a beat, the tips of his little and ring fingers ghosting over your pulse point, while his thumb swiped beneath your eye.
"...chalk," Kento whispered, seeing your pupils dilate under his inherent, dangerous magnetism. He wished nothing more than to lean down and taste you, clutched against him and whimpering in the schoolhouse. You heard thunder rumble in the distance, and smelled the petrichor of an oncoming storm.
"...I can't wait," Kento whispered, stepping back from you, with just one backwards glance before sweeping out under the wind and blotting clouds.
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Your hunt had amounted to nothing. Either, your monster was meticulously careful, or your suspicions were incorrect, and it did not reside on this island. There was just one more place you had not explored, and you resigned yourself that you may be heading home sooner than you thought.
And yet, you felt a rope behind your navel, a red string around your finger, holding you here. You decided to complete your final investigation at the home of the priest, who had become the lifeblood that ran inside you, at midnight. He generally stayed late at the church, completing administration. You would be undisturbed.
Armed, rogue-like, you blended with moonlit shadows until you reached the windows outside his bedroom. You peeked through the gaps in the wooden blinds, and were met with an image of Kento, erotic and resplendent, that seared itself into your brain for the rest of your days.
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Kento didn't need sleep, ever since his God had forsaken him. Yet still, he craved that sweet embrace, to take him away from the twisted torture of what he had become. His resolve to die this way, as some fallen angel, had been unexpectedly fractured by the will to live-- fractured by you.
Kento switched the shower off, the last droplets of water running down his back. His cassock and collar were discarded, all woven lies against the skin of a faithless hypocrite. Kento wrapped a towel loosely around his waist, stepped past the empty mirror, and out into his bedroom.
His gut churned to see his empty bed. It had been weeks since he had fed. Years since he had taken a woman for the last time, before taking his vows. Weeks, since you had begun to consume him, mind, body and soul.
Kento had been losing his faith before the change. He had grown further from God, as countless monsters died beneath his teeth. But it was thoughts of you, spread, penetrated and whimpering beneath him, that took Kento beyond redemption.
Kento shuddered at the aching greed within. He lay back on his bed, hair still damp and floppy, but desperate for sleep to grip him and pull him under. His cock, rapidly thickening and tenting beneath the towel, made him curse, one broad arm flung over his eyes, while the other tried to squeeze himself into submission.
Kento squirmed with guilt, his semi-erect cock gripped in his palm. He thought of you, your fingers dipping into your needy wet cunt, the vibrator on your clit doing nothing to relieve the ache in your soul. He thought of the way you had squirmed and begged, to your god, and to him, to be granted your release. He thought of the way you had sobbed as you came, curled round yourself, your fingers desperately trying to reach the sweet spot that would make your orgasm climb all the way into your belly.
He didn't need to imagine it, Kento thought blithely, his thumb now stroking slick pre-cum under his foreskin, and over the sweet swollen head of his cock. He didn't need to imagine it, because he had seen you, through the gap in your curtains in the dead of night. Watching you, a pale angel in the rain, hunting for the forgiveness of a body he couldn't allow himself to sully.
Kento's hand had begun to masturbate himself instinctually, to the thought of you crying out for him. For him, and he could do nothing but pretend he hadn't seen you fall apart, to the dream of him inside you.
Kento groaned, low and rumbling, his hand gripping tightly around his throbbing, heavy length, longer than his thick fist could cover. Dripping with pre-cum, Kento began to fuck into his own fist to lubricate himself. He moaned in time to the memory of you, writhing and mewling against your pillow.
Kento's other arm reached round above his head, and he sunk his sharp teeth into his pillow, licking at it, imitating how he would flick his tongue against your pert little clit with a ragged moan. He pictured you above him, riding his mouth and nose as the length of his cock fucked down your throat to the tune of sweet wet gags. Kento whispered filth into the dead of night, trying to rut himself to orgasm.
"--take it-- good girl...cum down your throat-- cum in my mouth...shit...fuck you through it soon, angel-- promise, I promise--...ahhhh, shit, SHIT--"
Kento cursed, spitting venom, his balls heavy and sore, his own hand so woefully inadequate. His canines had lengthened, his mouth twisted into a teeth-baring snarl, and he gripped his cock harder. Trailing his other fingers to his mouth, sucking on his fingertips with a shiver, Kento pierced them until he could taste the hot rush of blood, imagining it was you quenching his thirst--
At the window, completely unnoticed, you gripped the windowpane, weak-kneed. Your other hand clapped over your mouth. Kento lay naked on his bed, sprawled and ethereal under strips of moonlight, masturbating with gasps and groans that you only wished you could hear.
Those hands, that you had spent night after night, wishing were inside you. That cock, thicker and longer than you had pictured...and oh. The way he rutted into his fist with such devastating ferocity, left you jealous of his hand. Your mouth watered.
What would he do, if you knocked right now? If you offered yourself to him, spread bare and pleading? Would he forsake his vows for you? Would he turn his back to God, as he stroked his cockhead to orgasm between your wet folds, singing your praises, and spattering hot, thick cum over your clit--
You were drawn back out of your head as Kento convulsed, his anguished, sloppy moan breaking through the windows, shooting through you like a knife. You gasped, delighted by Kento's twitching pleasure.
Kento hit his orgasm with the turmoiled strength of a stormfront, breaking. His final image was of you, cradling his sore cock between your legs, humping him inside you while you whispered to him and he whined into your hair and got lost in the smell of you, god, the smell of you, he could smell you now--
Kento spasmed, crying out as cum spurted in heavy stripes up his abdomen, his orgasm threaded with a tinge of horror-- fuck, he could smell you, you were here nearby, he knew the smell of that skin and that blood and that cunt--
Kento sat up with a jolt and a snarl, still gasping, the power of the hunt crashing through him. His teeth bared, animalistic, he wrenched his window up, sticking his head out into the night.
The smell of you, quickly fading, was being carried away by the wind. And Nanami Kento was losing his mind.
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You could barely compose yourself, walking into Church the next evening. The night had crept in fast; another storm churning over the water, was pulling the moon in with it. You felt overburdened with...guilt? Desire? You could not hide it, you were sure.
You could not hide it, as Kento's rich voice embraced the pews. You could not hide it, as your voice trembled its way through hymns. Kento's stern, impassive face remained unreadable, as you took communion from him. You met each others' eyes, both thinking about the same thing; his finger grazed your tongue, and gazed upon your sweet face, open-mouthed and doe-eyed, kneeling before him.
And despite all this, it was each others' company you craved more than anything more carnal. You found excuses to stay, in the church, loitering as Kento bid the crowds a warm goodbye. As the last person left, finally alone, you turned to each other. You both held your breath.
After a few moments, yours released in a twinkling laugh, and a blush, that had Kento's chest clenching in possessive adoration.
"I...have neglected you, father," you offered, brushing your hair behind your ear. Kento huffed, at first, pinching the bridge of his nose, before laughing. A genuine laugh. Deep, velvety, and rich. You were putty in his hands, and he didn't even know.
"Alas...it is the life of the clergy. Our own needs, go...unmet." Kento grimaced, a forced half-smile. His hands clasped over his lap.
You felt the tinge of bitterness at the edge of his words. You swallowed, thickly. Your fate balanced on the edge of a knife.
"Not...not all of them, surely? You could...you could join me for dinner?" You couldn't miss how Kento's eyebrows raised fractionally, his pupils dilating. Kento felt a dangerous hunger.
"I...I'm not sure-- I shouldn't--"
"Of course, you're completely right--" you flapped, taking a step back, and Kento's hunger gripped you back with jealous need.
"...I shouldn't be long here. An hour, maybe? If...if you'll allow it." Kento could feel himself twist under the need to possess you, one way or another. Judging by the smell of you, you would be wet, supple under his lips.
"Perfect," you blurted, standing up on your tiptoes for one happy moment, "perfect. I'll cook. We can...we can talk. I can't wait."
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A brisk knock. You hurried to the door, biting your lip, briefly abandoning dinner on the stove.
"Father," you cried, damning yourself for sounding so excited, "you're here...I'm glad. I was afraid you wouldn't...anyway..."
You hurried back to the stove, leaving the door open. After a moment, you looked up, seeing Kento leaning against the doorframe, looking at with with something...unreadable, in his eyes. He simply stood, drinking you in as you cooked.
"...Father? What are you waiting out there for? Come in." Blinking, chuckling to himself, Kento stepped over the threshold, closing the door behind him and gently placing a bottle of wine on the table.
"Please. Call me Kento. It seems...silly, if we're having dinner, and a night together." You felt heat blossom through you, at the accidental double-meaning behind Kento's words.
Dinner together was soft, intimate, the food and wine smoothing over an already glossy conversation. You were made malleable by the wine. You were intoxicated by him. Kento looked into you with such knowledge of you, that you were laid bare beneath his gaze.
Sat facing each other on the sofa, Kento had abandoned his white collar, the buttons of his cassock and white shirt undone to his chest. He rolled wine around his glass, his head leaning on one hand, smiling as you talked. The wine made you stupid, and you blurted out;
"Why? Why...did you join the church, Kento?" It was, in part, rhetorical. A cry of despair against the crime of Kento being made untouchable. His answer surprised you, and you found yourself shuffling closer as he talked.
"I ask myself that same question every day. Ever since..." Kento bit his tongue, thinking of the night he was turned, on a missionary trip abroad. Thinking about the day you walked into his parish, setting him aflame with unquenchable burning thirst. Kento cleared his throat, swirling his wine. He felt his primal magnetism drawing you to him like a moth to the flame, and he could not stop himself.
"...I have become...disillusioned, with the church. I am...torn," Kento admitted. Your knees were touching his now, and you leaned towards him with lovesick eyes. Kento felt the thrill of the hunt, feeling the sting of his teeth lengthening. His cock twitched as your breath passed over his cheek.
"...torn?" You felt a quiver of fear now, in the way Kento's eyes darkened, his hand slipping over to grip behind your knee, pulling him into his lap. He set aside his glass. It should have rung alarm bells. You were so drunk, but you had only had one glass of wine. Kento smelled so intoxicating. You were warm, floppy as he pulled you to straddle his lap, cupping your face with both hands.
"...torn," he whispered, his nose brushing yours. Kento's hunger overtook his panic for you, a victim to himself. Kento whispered against your lips, watching your eyes flutter closed, your head heavy and lilting to the side, exposing the pretty thrum of your throat to him.
"...torn," he continued, gliding his tongue up the pulse in your neck, feeling his cock jump against your clothed pussy, "...all because of you...if God has forsaken me, I hope he never wants me back. If only you would let me worship you, instead."
Kento's lips hovered over yours, barely quelling his urgent need to feed on you, until you whimpered his name. Kento snapped, and pulled you in by the back of the neck, crashing his lips to yours with the ragged groan of a starving man.
Your head swam with Kento, clutching his open collar and falling against him, allowing him to devour your mouth with bliss. You murmured against his lips, sloppy and licking, tasting the sweet allure of him, and his grip on the back of your neck grew crushing, his weight now bearing over you to press you back into the sofa, a sharp sting on your lip--
"Ow! I...ugh, sorry...I'm bleeding--"
As you moved to sit up, shocked back out of your reverie, Kento had pushed himself back to the other side of your sofa. One hand had clasped over his mouth. He trembled, and shook, white-knuckles clasping the sofa. You heard a sharp gasp, as if Kento was in pain.
With blood on your lip, you reached for him-- and stopped. Your eyes fixed on the switched-off television opposite you both. You stood, slowly, moving towards the hallway, and your bag, trying to control your terrified little heart.
"I'll just...get a cloth, for my li--"
As you pulled a blade from your bag, standing up to spin around, you were thrown back to the wall, your head cushioned by Kento's hand. You cried out, feeling him bracket you against the wall, his cassock now abandoned, his form seeming to grow and swell before you. Kento's face pressed to your neck, and you felt the hot throb of his growing cock against your belly.
You stood this way, both panting into each other, your knife pressed over Kento's heart, and his teeth pressed to your throat. Your heart broke, fragile beneath Kento's twisting form, and hungry mouth. You hiccuped, your hand and resolve faltering.
"...I never wanted...I wish it wasn't...why did it have to be you?" You sobbed, your arm starting to lower. Kento growled against you, already two feet taller, his enormous chest trapping you in against the wall. You felt the lights blotting out around you, as vast, black, velvety wings unfurled from Kento's back.
"...always...you always knew...just couldn't accept--" Kento gasped, his tongue darting out against your neck, ridged and trembling. His chest burst with pain to feel you sob beneath him.
"I can't do it," you cried, your knife hand lowering again, "just take what you want, because I can't-- I love you-- I'm not strong enough." Kento's teeth gritted, his face crumpling against the soft copper scent of your skin. His enormous hand gripped yours, raising the knife to press to his chest. You gasped and cried out, resisting his pull; a bead of blood sprung up around the tip, pressed to Kento's chest.
"From the moment you arrived," Kento growled, his teeth pressing gently over your pulse point, starving and needy, "...my life...everything I am, has been yours to take. I would know you, blind and deaf...and I would be honoured, for you to take my life as penance for my sins."
You gritted your teeth, completely releasing your grip on the blade. It clattered to the floor. You reached up to trail hands up Kento's enormous, powerful shoulders. Your fingertips grazed the soft base of his wings, and Kento shivered, shuddering into you. He felt a dribble of pre-cum soak his stretched, ripping boxers.
"Then I condemn you to live, Kento," you whispered, pulling his face up to yours. His pupils were dilated, bursting with lust, inky black in pools of crimson, "...and take me. However you want me."
Kento snarled at you again, pressing himself to you, pinning your arms above your head with one thick hand; "You have no idea what you're asking for," he hissed, "I will eat you alive." He felt you tremble, seeing the golden resolve in your eyes. You leaned forwards to his mouth, begging.
"Then eat me...or fuck me, like you fucked your hand to me."
Kento cursed, snapping, lifting you against him. You wrapped your legs around his hips, feeling Kento reach down to shred the clothes off himself, completely absorbed by the need to possess you, to love you.
Flung backwards onto the bed, you gasped at Kento's monstrous form. Eight feet tall, broad and exquisite, his great black wings folded and unfolded against his back. His aching cock dripped with pre-cum, so much bigger than when you had seen him cum into his own hand. His face, still undeniably Kento, stared into you, owning you. Heat pooled between your legs, as he grasped his cock in one great hand, groaning and shuddering.
You crept forwards, still drunk on him, and his nephilim glory. Kento's hand stuttered around his cock as you licked the tip.
"--fuck-- too big for you-- you can't--" Kento uttered a strangled moan, to feel your hot little mouth engulf his cockhead, your lips stretched wide, gulping him to the back of your throat, all hot little licks and sucks. Every fibre of his being needed to buck forwards into your mouth, and you felt two great hands tangle in your hair.
When your hands joined your mouth, stroking down his aching length, masturbating the parts of his cock your mouth could not reach, Kento rutted involuntarily. Moaning, begging and whining your name, his voice ran deep and ragged around his sharp canines.
"--darling, I-- shit I-- so good...so good for me...taking me s--so well, haaaaah...not-- can't last-- like this--"
You hummed around his cock, swallowing down a trickle of salty pre-cum, feeling the gentle pressure of his fingertips against your head. So aware of his size and strength, Kento handled you like a china doll, with the utmost love and affection. Kento moaned with abandon, his head thrown back, his great wings furling and unfurling with divine pleasure.
Swallowing around Kento's thick tip at the back of your throat, you felt his cock leaping in warning. Kento tried half-heartedly to pull you off him, whimpering and moaning with fractured cries of your name;
"--can't swallow-- s'too much-- ohhh fuck, my love-- c-cumming, I'm cumming-- fffuuuck yes, swallow-- all of it--"
You squeaked as his cock jolted and twitched in your mouth, Kento's balls clenched tight as he hunched around your mouth, pressing your head to him. Your mouth and throat flooded with Kento's bitter seed, cooler than that of a normal man, and you swallowed him down with pride. Kento's groans and breaths ran ragged, as you licked him clean.
Kento panted, glossy-eyed as he came down from his high, his cock still half-hard against his thigh. Crowding your body against the bed with his, his fingertips grazed the dress you wore, before ripping it from you with a bared-teeth growl. You felt your bra snapped in the middle, as if it were paper. Your breasts heaved, nipples peaked under Kento's ravenous attention.
Poking his tongue out to tease it over one hard nipple, you felt your clit throb to feel the otherworldly ridges and grooves running along his tongue's sides and tip. Whining as he sucked your pebbled nipple into his mouth, you shuddered to feel Kento's sharp teeth graze your sensitive peak. He savoured you, lathering your nipple against his tongue, until you felt you could cum from that alone.
His other hand rose to engulf your second breast, your nipple rolled so tenderly between two great fingers. You felt a trickle of arousal soak your underwear. Kento could smell it, and pressed his hand to your lower belly, feeling vaguely for the telltale swell of ovulation.
"...made a mistake, angel...letting me take you like this-- nothing of you left, by the time I'm done with you--mine-- all mine-- fuck--"
Trailing kisses down your belly, sniffing you and eager to fill you with his smell, his body thrummed for you. Kento threw your legs over his shoulders, ripping the sides of your underwear and tossing the scraps aside.
His eyes fixed on your pussy, slick and clenching. Kento shuddered, feeling his cock beginning to bound to life again. It flopped, heavy and twitching against his thigh, filling again in preparation to fill you. Kento felt a vague desire to ensnare you, trapping you inside his drunken intoxication, to fill you, and fill you, and fill you, until your belly swelled, oozing his thick, white seed.
"...Kento...please..." Your sweet begging pulled Kento out of himself. Despite his monstrous form, his face softened, his eyes fixed to yours as his tongue, long and ridged, stretched out of his mouth. You saw stars as it lathed insistently from side to side, spreading your folds, stroking back and forth over your aching, pearly clit.
Kento mumbled into your pussy, tasting you, his long tongue fucking into your cunt while his nose nuzzled your clit. Mewling, your hands flew down to sink into Kento's hair, and you felt your hands grasped and pinned against your belly. Kento knew, with a faint pang, that if your fingernails scratched against his sensitive scalp, he would surely spill his seed all over your floor.
Kento draped his other forearm over your belly and hips, pinning you down as you twisted beneath his attention. He lapped, sucked, and nipped at you with the softest bites to your clit, his tongue fucking in and out of you with inhuman dexterity.
You bucked your hips down the bed, eager to feel his tongue sink into your deepest parts, and Kento obliged with a wet moan. You felt his tongue lathe against your spongy spot, pinned down as he devoured you.
"--just there...harder please, please-- god I need your cock in me, please-- fuck me please-- please--"
You begged and pleaded your way to orgasm, your arousal seeping out around Kento's tongue as you came with a jolt and a cry, your thighs clamping around Kento's head, feet tickling against his sensitive wings. Kento continued to fuck his tongue in and out of you, lathering you with his spit, tasting your arousal, desperate to taste more of you.
You reached down, trying to pull Kento up your body. He almost laughed at your casual management of a true to life vampire, about to fuck you into the mattress. Kento allowed it, settling above you, his pupils narrowing at the insistent beat of your throat. Suddenly, and with a strangled growl, Kento knocked your head aside, his teeth grazing at your throat, and his monstrous cock throbbing at your entrance.
You trembled beneath him, heaving and gasping from your high. All of your resolve left you, beneath his tongue, and you uttered words you knew to be true;
"...I trust you, Kento."
Kento pressed into you, with teeth and cock and a husky moan. You felt a sharp pierce at your neck, his teeth just deep enough to feel the hot splash of your blood against his tongue. Kento almost finished then and there, his seed threatening to spatter into your folds and entrance, instead of in your belly, as he had promised himself. Kento drank you, his mouth clamped around your neck, one great hand cupping your head to the side while the other gripped your hip.
With a squeak and a protracted, broken moan of his name, you felt Kento's cock stretch through your wet velvety walls. You squirmed, trying to climb up the bed, feeling Kento growl around your throat and yank you back down.
Kento was enormous, by far the biggest cock you had ever taken, splitting you with a dull sting. Your fluttering hole soothed as Kento began to rut his length into you. His red, leaking tip bullied your cervix, bumping it up against your womb, with inches of him still outside of you.
You uttered strangled little moans, completely pinned beneath his hulking form, feeling him rut as much of his cock inside you as he could fit. With a shiver, Kento denied himself of any more blood at your throat. His tongue stroked your wounds, clotting the blood there, as he fucked gently into you.
Kento's wings caged you both in, and he stared down at where his cock tried to stretch your pussy out with dopey, lovesick eyes. A trickle of your blood ran down from the corner of his mouth, and he was struck with a sudden burst of pride for you. Kneeling back, Kento pushed your knees up to your chest, crushing over you in a mating press.
You writhed, as Kento managed to sink more of his cock into you, groaning which each stroke he watched enter and pull out of you. Your slick formed a translucent white ring most of the way down his cock length. Kento was eager to see it drip down his balls. He gasped down at your prone, fucked-out form, and gently began to press and roll the fatty flesh around your clit, making you buck up into him with pathetic little mewls.
"--fit it in--fit all of me in...if you cum again-- fuck you through it, baby...fuck you through it...fuck you through it..."
Kento repeated this like a mantra, every gradually strengthening thrust into you taking him deeper, your pussy stretched to its limits around his terrifying girth and length. Leaning over where you joined, Kento spat a smooth mouthful of spit, stroking it around his base, lubricating you both, before upping his pace and intensity again.
You cried out, head thrown back as you arched, feeling Kento so deeply that you clasped your belly. Kento planted one hand over yours, his fucks growing gradually more feral as he bared his teeth, determined to finally take what was his, after so many years of miserable self-denial.
"--mine make you mine make you mine--leave it behind...leave it all...for you...shit-- so tight, just--milk it out-- all my cum-- all yours, I swear..."
As you came, your pussy clenching and spasming, Kento finally bottomed out. His head flung back with a cry of success, slamming into you with abandon as he chased his high, desperate to see you filled with his cum. Cursing, and spitting, teeth bared and blacking out the room around you with his wings, Kento came with a roar, and you felt your pussy and belly flooded by him.
His cock jerked long, protracted twitches inside you, spurting thick bursts of cum, with nowhere to go but up, plugged by his enormous girth. You were pliable and dazed, taking it with the sweet relief of his love for you, his seed soothing your swollen inner walls like a balm.
Kento faltered above you, staggered and dazed. Keeping his cock stuffed inside you, manoeuvring himself onto his side, he swept one great wing beneath you, and one above you. You felt yourself cocooned, sleepy and full, reaching into hand up to tangle into Kento's hair. He pressed a lazy kiss to your palm.
"...you're a...terrible vampire hunter..." Kento slurred, fading out into soft snores, just seconds later.
He's not wrong, you reasoned to yourself, wondering and drifting to sleep in his arms and wings, maybe he'll help me.
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ivybucky · 7 months
Text
First Time - b.b. x gn!reader
Summary: You have a habit of calling people by cute nicknames or monikers, and Bucky isn't sure why it made him feel so good.
a/n: I'm breaking my hiatus finally!!! this is just a cute lil fic somewhat based on first time by hozier without the thought-provoking underlying angst. 1.9k
Content/Warnings: tfaws!Bucky, fluff, pining, tfaws fight scenes, zemo mention, multiple Sam appearances, references to fights/violence, use of y/n, use of the nickname doll when referring to the reader, friends to lovers? (let me know if i'm forgetting anything)
Masterlist
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Believe it or not, Bucky Barnes tried to not think about his past. 
Though his efforts to make amends were a work-in-progress, and his name was brought up in the press more often than he preferred, Bucky Barnes tried to think about his past as little as possible. 
The first time you called him James was the first time he had liked the way it sounded. You had smiled at him, sweet and welcoming, as Sam introduced the two of you.
“It’s nice to meet you, James.” God, did it fall off your tongue in the nicest way. “Thank you for looking after birdbrain over here.” You giggled at Sam’s distant-sounding protest.
Bucky cracked a sideways smile, not being able to stop himself. “You can call me Bucky, doll.”
Your smile morphed into a sort of smirk, cheeks warming at the nickname he gave you. “Is that what you prefer?”
He hadn’t given it much thought anymore. He knew James as the person who enlisted in the military, the person who fell from the train following Captain America into the throws of war. James was the person who was Hydra’s plaything, the assassin, the monster he was so desperate to forget. Bucky was the charmer, the best friend of Steve Rogers, the swing dancer who had a habit of punching bullies(justified obviously). 
Now, he didn’t feel like either. Going by Bucky was the easiest option, since it was the part of him he was desperate to gain back. Talking to you however, he didn’t think he cared what he was called anymore. 
He gave you a soft grin, one that may have held a bit more meaning than flirtation. “I don’t mind either, you can call me whatever you want.”
The first time you called him by any kind of nickname was the day they went to Madripoor.
“Sammy! Buck!” You called their names as you waved big at them from the small airport hangar. 
Bucky tried to slow his heart as the pair walked closer to you. Sam let out a chuckle next to him, a teasing smile thrown his way. “Hope you don’t mind the extra company, Buck.”
With a frown and a grumble, Bucky widened his gait, the toe of his shoe catching on Sam’s, causing him to trip up momentarily. “Don’t call me that.”
He reached you first, allowing his smile wider further than before. “Hi Y/N, what’re you doin’ here?”
You placed a gentle hand on his left shoulder, rubbing back and forth. “It’s good to see you too,” you chuckled. “Sam told me what you guys are doing with Zemo. He thought I might be able to provide some kind of help, right Sam?”
Sam walked up with somehow both a smirk and scowl on his face and pulled you into a quick hug. “That’s right, though I might’ve invited you along so that I’m not the only one putting up with his old ass.”
Bucky scoffed, trying to ignore the lack of warmth from your otherwise occupied hands. “Are you sure about this, doll? This is probably gonna end with all of us on a watch list.”
You nudged his shoulder, your own smirk gracing your features. “As if I wasn’t on one already.”
The boys both chuckled, before Sam spoke up. “Speaking of watchlists, he’s here.”
Boarding the private jet that Zemo just happened to have, Bucky tried to keep his eyes on you the whole time, even as you sat in the leather seat between him and the window. 
“I’m sorry, I’m just fascinated by this - I don’t know what to call it,” your brows furrowed at the sentence, at the faint smirk that rested on Zemo’s face. “But this part seems important. Who is Nakajima?”
Bucky was out of his seat in an instant, metal fingers gripped tightly around his throat. Zemo’s face wiped itself of any amusement. Bucky spoke into his ear low and gruff, but it could easily be heard throughout the plane cabin. “You touch that again and I’ll kill you.” 
He snatched the notebook back into his and heavily sat back down into his seat, hand wound tight around the small journal
Your fingers reached across his lap and wrapped around his clenched metal fist, thumb rubbing soothingly over the back of his hand. “Just ignore him, sweetheart. You and I both know nothing that man says is worth anything.” 
Bucky looked down at your joined hands, then glanced up at you with a small smile. He gave your hand a couple of squeezes, and tried to focus back on the words being said throughout the rest of the plane ride. 
The first time you called him “baby” was during their fight with John Walker. 
Madripoor and Latvia had been filled with silent stares, small smiles, and soft words . Fleeting “friendly” touches ensued as well - Bucky’s hand on your back drawing small circles, your gentle grasp of his hand or arm when he clenched his fist.
Bucky talked to you about Yori, about his too soft mattress, about his too shitty of a therapist, his want to get a cat. You told him about meeting Sam, your agency background, your agreement that he should totally get a cat. And now, you just wished you could have that again.
Walker was too strong, landing solid hits on both Sam and Bucky that could easily start slowing them down. He had lifted the shield over their bodies too many times, clearly holding on to the same psychotic fury he had when he killed the Flagsmasher.
To this point, you stood frozen in watch. You weren’t there when the fight started, and between Sam and John’s current focus on Bucky, you weren’t sure which side needed the most aid.
John had flung Bucky into a nearby metal utility pole for Christ’s sake, and a cry wretched itself from your lips. You ran to his side as he laid on the ground unconscious, metal arm cackling with untamed electricity. 
“Bucky,” you murmured as you checked his spine for any breaks. You could hear his breath, as shuddered as it was after an impact like that. You moved him to lay on his back, palm pressed to his cheek. “Bucky, honey, come on, wake up.”
You tapped his cheek a couple of times in slight panic, other hand unconsciously combing his hair back. A couple of moments passed before he groaned and huffed out a cough. “Bucky,” you sighed a breath of relief, eyes near tearing up as the tension left your body. “Are you hurt, baby?”
He sat up with a grimace, another groan leaving his lips. “What the fuck?”
“He took the serum,” your hands had yet to leave his face. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
He looked up at you with a wincing smile, still bright enough to make your heart stutter. “I’m okay, sweetheart.” The red gracing your cheeks could be easily based on the intensity of the fight, but it was unsaid knowledge that wasn’t the case. He touched the hand holding his cheek as you swept a thumb back and forth. A grunt from the fight crashed them both back to reality. “He’s gonna kill Sam.”
You stood up, pulling him with you by his metal arm. Bucky swung his arm around to recalibrate before jogging forward. “We gotta get the shield. Be careful, don’t let him pin you.”
____
The first time you kissed him was in Louisiana. 
You giggled from the picnic table as you watched Bucky dodge Sam’s nephews, cake in hand, as they tried to tackle him for his arm, as well as when several of the children pleading to hang off of it.
He sat next to you on the bench of the table, shoulder pressing into yours as you basked in Sam and Sarah’s storytelling. Bucky shared some bittersweet stories about Steve, drawing smiles from everyone listening. Each laugh had you leaning into him a bit more, but a complaint could not be heard, especially when your hands brushed under the table.
The evening continued on like that into the early night. Bucky entertained the masses, looking a lot like the charmer he used to be. Sam reminisced with his community, taking many photos with his local family. 
You sat on the pier, leaning back against the wooden bench as the sun set over the water’s horizon. You could faintly hear laughter behind you on the dock mixed with the sound of the stereo’s music drifting over. A smile grew on your face as a presence made its way towards you, shoes scuffing against the wooden slats. A soft hand rested on your shoulder and sent warmth through your body. “Care for some company, doll?”
You flashed Bucky a smile that had him weak as you turned back to him and patted the space next to him. He sat down close, thigh pressed against yours, shoulder to shoulder yet again. 
“What’re you gonna do now, Buck? You think you’re gonna stick around?” 
He sighed, staring down at his metal hand in contempt. “I don’t know,” his hand clenched in his lap. “I’ve been following orders for a long time now. Might be good for me to work with someone, not for. Even if birdbrain has a habit of getting on my nerves.”
You reached across his lap and gently unfurled his fingers. He wished the pressure he felt against the metal was more tangible for once, more definitive. “You should do whatever makes you feel the most free, sweetheart.” You slipped both of your hands around his, rubbing small circles with your thumb. “Whether that be with Sam or doing something else. You deserve it.”
Bucky’s eyes drifted over your face and observed its features - the small smile that curled around your lips, the kindness in your eyes. “And what about you?” he spoke softly. “Will you stay?”
You looked up to him and searched his eyes with a hopeful grin. “Are you asking?” you chuckled, using one of your hands to comb his hair back behind his ear, thumb resting on his cheek. “If I’m needed, I’ll stay.”
Bucky puffed out a breath that he didn’t realize he was holding. “Well ya know,” he threw a bright smile in your direction. “Sam’s gonna need you here so he doesn’t lose his mind.”
You chuckled, leaning a little bit closer.  “And you? Do you need me?”
Bucky took in the space between you, the way your breaths mingled, foreheads near touching. “Yeah, baby,” he allowed himself to fully lean in. “I need you.”
You kissing him was like coming up for air, or finding water in the middle of the desert. It was salvation, it was required for him to have in order to survive. Your lips were soft, tasting faintly of the beer you had earlier. His mouth moved against yours like a magnet following them wherever they went. His hand drifted to your waist, moving you somewhat into his lap as you both smiled into the kiss. When you finally broke apart, it was only for the need for oxygen to fill your lungs. 
You giggled from above him, heads pressed together. Your hands locked themselves around his shoulders in an embrace that forced him to stay where he could feel the pant of your breath across his skin, not that he was complaining. “I guess I’ll stay then.”
Please reblog and comment! It's my first fic in *two fucking years* and i need to know that this is still good lol
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fvckingwolfstar · 4 months
Text
3 am
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pairing: hozier x sleepy! reader
summary: blurb!! late night fingering after a long day
genre: smut 18+
word count: 453
cw: he’s so in love w you, sleepy vaginal fingering
author’s note: go read my saltburn fanfiction pleaseeeeeee. its pinned🫶🫶🫶
smut under the cut
It was 3 am on a Saturday morning, Friday night. Whatever you call it. And Andrew was enraptured by you. He’d been enraptured by you for months now, having been dating you for nearly nine. Friday night, he took you dancing, then to dinner. Something you’d been talking about for weeks, and he wanted nothing more than to see you smile. Or to see your hair fly behind you as you twirled, or your dress to spin with you. The force of you pulled him in.
When you got home, you blew him (extra spit) and rode him as a job well done. It was perfect, as it always is with you. You had fallen asleep in eachother’s arms, but now he’s awake again. That wasn’t too bad though, he got to stroke your hair while you rested.
Your heavy eyes begin to flutter, a grumble of “what time is it?” falling from between your lips.
Andrew kisses your forehead lightly, “3:30?” he guesses.
You groan, exhausted, pushing yourself closer to him. You lean up and kiss him softly, humming as you both refuse to pull away. Andrew wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in closer. You gasp as you feel him pressed against you.
He pushes his hand down your side and hovers over the elastic your underwear, “Mnmf, please?” you mumble quietly against him. He pushes his hand into your panties slowly and rubs circle around your clit, you melting like putty in his hands.
He pushed his middle finger inside of you, his palm pressed against your clit. Your quiet whines turning into louder moans as he touched you. You bring your hand down to his boxers, “Lemme…” you trail off.
“It’s okay,” Andrew hums, steering your hand from his boxers to his waist. He pushes his ring finger inside of you aswell, causing you to fold into him, letting out labored breaths.
He rubs your g-spot with his fingers and your clit with your palm, sending you into overdrive. Your face scrunches up as he works you with one hand, shushing and comforting you as he does. With a few more rubs, you cum on his hands.
You look up at him with sleepy eyes, blinking slowly. He pulls his hand out of your damp underwear and goes to lick his fingers. Before he does, you take his wrist and suck his middle finger into your mouth, fluttering your eyelashes languidly. You pull his finger out with a quiet, yet obscene pop! and relax into his arms again.
His hand returns to your hair and he strokes your hair until you fall asleep in his arms again. His eyes finally flutter closed as he succumbs to sleep.
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m00nlight-ramblings · 1 month
Text
Talk
As a famous singer, you find yourself at the same terrible party as Hozier, but you two decide to do something about it.
Pairing: fem reader x Hozier
Warnings: smut, dirty talk, p in v (protected) sex, fingering, 18+ MINORS DNI
Word Count: 3.2k
A/N: THANK YOU SO MUCH to everyone who waited for this one...I'm so sorry it took so long. Please enjoy, and remember, my inbox is open for requests!
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This party sucked.
Somehow, at one of the biggest album release parties of the year, you found yourself bored out of your mind, sipping on a weak gin and tonic. Leaning against a corner wall, the bass of the music from the DJ vibrated through you as you watched other people dance – your bandmates were somewhere amongst them, but for whatever reason, you just weren’t feeling it. Maybe you were just in a mood, maybe it was the music (one good song for every ten awful ones), but you sipped your drink, checking your phone every so often until it became a polite time to excuse yourself. You could already taste the revelry of getting back to your house before midnight – pajamas, Thai takeout, and scrolling aimlessly on your phone while Grey’s Anatomy reruns played in the background.
Suddenly, you saw a head bobbing around the others in the crowd – standing what seemed like almost a full foot above everyone else, his thick, curly hair pulled back in a half bun, he smiled and tilted his head to the music distractedly. Your breath hitched for a moment as you saw him – you had seen Hozier at countless red carpets and events in the past year it seemed, but he was also more handsome than the last time. He turned his head and your eyes locked, making you blush, and making him smile. He gently pressed a hand on someone’s back to alert that he was making his way behind him.
As if the giant could ever go unnoticed.
“Hi,” He said as he landed next to you, sipping from his drink. Something brown and in a rocks glass, one giant ice cube anchoring the liquid.
Of course.
“I feel like I needed to come over and speak to you – we seem to orbit each other at basically every red carpet this year.” He spoke, seemingly reading my mind. You smiled.
“That’s funny – I was just thinking that.”
Hozier nodded and his eyes scanned the crowd before landing back at you. It was like he was staring into your soul. Extending a hand, he smiled, “It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m –”
“I know who you are,” You admitted, somewhat bashfully as you shook his hand. “I’m a big fan. I’m–”
“I know who you are,” He echoed, a smirk playing on his lips mischievously, “I’m a big fan.”
You could feel your blush deepen as his smooth words washed over you. His accent was enough for you to want to drop your panties, and his smile was already sending your head upside down.
“Your ‘Best New Artist’ win was well deserved,” He continued. “Your album was one of my favorites this year. Selfishly, I hope you guys are working on another one.”
“Wow, thank you,” You breathed, your heart thumping in your chest, “That means a lot coming from one of like, the best lyricists of our generation.”
“Ah,” Hozier waved his hand, bashful, “Come now.”
You cocked an eyebrow and smiled, “You’re going to write something like ‘I'd be the voice that urged Orpheus when her body was found, I'd be the choiceless hope in grief, that drove him underground’ and not expect to be considered that?”
He simply shrugged and sipped his drink. He was blushing, embarrassed.
“This album was also very good,” He changed the subject, speaking of the current album release party. He cleared his throat, “Even though this party sucks.”
You laughed and gently grabbed his forearm in agreement, “Yes! What is that about?!”
“I think it’s the DJ,” He admitted, leaning into you, “The guys releasing this album are buddies of mine, but I’m starting to think if I need to end our friendship based on the DJ they picked for this party.”
“The music he’s playing is making me feel old,” You admitted, “I don’t know any of the songs, and I don’t seem to really like it, either. Is this what our parents feel like when we were listening to Good Charlotte and Britney Spears?”
“Not mine. My mom loves Good Charlotte.” His eyes twinkled.
You laughed. Your eyes fell on your bandmates dancing to the music, obviously drunk off of the expensive beer being served at the open bar. You were acutely aware of Hozier standing next to you, his heat seemingly radiating.
“Is it an inappropriate time to tell you that I think you look beautiful tonight?” He asked, his breath warm on your ear as he leaned down to whisper it. Shivers were sent down your back as he spoke. You turned your head and looked at him, trying to play it cool with the smile that played on your lips.
“Probably not, considering how I’ve been thinking about how handsome you look since I saw you from across the room tonight.” You retorted, titling your head. He smiled and nodded, his eyes scanning the crowd.
“I’m reminded of your beauty every time I see you at events,” Hozier said, his hand finding the small of your back, “And, admittedly, every time I scroll your Instagram feed.”
You laughed, “Hozier is my internet stalker, eh?”
“Can you blame me? That number you had on at the Grammy’s this year?” He made a face, whistling, “It took every ounce of strength not to follow your account as soon as you were done presenting on stage.”
“Do you want to get out of here?” You asked, almost interrupting him. He seemed taken aback, so you tried to backtrack, “I mean…in a bit. We could go somewhere where…the DJ doesn’t suck? After we finish our drinks.”
Hozier quickly chucked back the rest of his drink, putting the glass on the nearest table. “Let’s go.” He took your hand as you chugged the rest of yours as well, finding the spot next to his glass for yours.
He guided you through the party, his hand never leaving the small of your back. You felt heat rushing through you as you made your way to front door, and Hozier handed the valet his ticket. He turned to you.
“Did you drive here?”
You shook your head. “Car service.”
“Great. We can take my car then.”
As the valet pulled up in a sleek Audi, Hozier thanked him and handed him a large bill as a tip. He waited until you were situated in your seat before he slid into the driver’s side, closing his door and pulling into traffic. Some sort of blues-y jazz was coming through the speakers softly.
“So where are you kidnapping me to, Mr. Internet Stalker?” You teased, looking out the window at the lights of downtown L.A.
He smiled, “My hotel,” His voice was a low purr. You exchanged a glance as he leaned his head forward, in explanation, “The bar there is really nice. Live jazz band tonight. It’s mellow.”
You nodded and smiled. As your heart raced, you were trying to calm yourself down, fiddling with the clasp on the purse in your lap. Hozier’s arm was resting on the console in between you, and every so often, his hand inched closer to you. By the time he pulled into the swanky hotel parking lot, his large hand was resting gently on your thigh.
Your stomach was in excited knots.
After another valet exchange, Hozier took your hand and led you inside the hotel. It was grand and beautiful – a $500/night type place. To the right of the entrance was a beautiful restaurant, speakeasy in style. As promised, a four-piece band was set up in the corner of the bar, playing soft tunes and creating the atmosphere of an underground jazz club.
“Told you,” Hozier said, raising his eyebrows playfully, “And the drinks are great as well. Had one before the release party.”
“It’s really nice.” You awkwardly agreed. Hozier stopped for a moment, his face unreadable. He stood before you.
“I also have a minibar upstairs in my room, if you want something to drink.”
“Oh, that sounds much better.” The coil in your belly was itching to be sated, and you didn’t know how much you could play this cat-and-mouse game of will they/won’t they. For a moment, a darkness of lust flickered in his eyes, but he simply smiled and took your hand, leading you to the elevator. He scanned his room card and pressed the button to the top floor.
The air in the elevator was thick, heavy. You both stood facing the door, saying nothing. As the doors open and he led you to his suite, your heartbeat doubled in time. Flicking the lights on, he shut the door behind you, placing the lock in it’s place.
It took all of 30 seconds before your bodies crashed together, teeth clacking and moans erupting.
Hozier grabbed you and pushed your floor length dress up so they he was able to wrap your legs around his waist as he carried you to the bed. Your arms snaked around his neck, fingers finding their way into his hair. You pulled back slightly, your breath ragged already.
“So what the fuck do I call you?” You asked, breathlessly.
Confused, he looked at you, “What?”
“I need to know what I’m saying when I scream your name later…is it Hozier, or is it Andrew?”
He barked out a laugh and bit your lip, “Andrew. Andrew is fine.” He pressed his lips on yours again, dropping on top of you as he guided you to the bed. His large hands ran their way up and down your waist, palming at the skin on your body. He was moaning, grunting into the kiss, as your tongues danced together. You felt his hands leave your waist and slip your heels off, your toes already curling.
Andrew pulled away and slipped off the tweed suit jacket he was wearing. He looked down at you as he shook his head, a smile playing on his lips.
“So fucking beautiful,” He murmured, pressing hot kisses down your neck. “So fucking sexy. Every time I see you.”
You moaned and pressed your hips to him slightly, causing him to gasp lightly in surprise. He kissed down your neck, to your collarbone, gently slipping the thin straps of your dress off of your shoulders. Licking a stripe from your neck to just above your breasts, he smiled, looking at you.
“Fuck,” You breathed, looking down at him. You watched as he stood, slipping off his shoes and socks next to the bed. He unbuttoned his dress shirt and slipped that off, revealing his thin, hairy chest. He was lean, built lithly but strong. Biting your lip, you stifled a moan. He was on you once again, pulling you into a kiss, his hand cradling the back of your neck. His other hand made quick work of the zipper on the back of your dress, and he shimmed it down, before sliding it off of you completely.
Revealing the intricate…shapewear…you wore underneath.
For a moment, both of you stopped breathing, looking down at the ugly, functional corset that covered your body. Embarrassed, you pressed your lips together before looking back at Andrew. Suddenly, both of you were in hysterics.
“I really wish I was wearing some sexy lingerie right about now.” You said, throwing your head back and cackling. Andrew laughed and peppered kisses on your cheeks, shaking his head as he undid the shapewear and took that off as well.
“That was brilliant,” He said, wiping a tear away from laughing, “What a fuckin’ reveal.” As he took it off, you were completely nude, your skin softly pressed against his fingers. He groaned as he took you in, “That’s much better.” His voice was back to husky, low.
He kissed you once more before his fingers found their way to your clit, spreading your legs gently. He didn’t take his eyes off of you as his fingers felt your wetness. Quickly, he inserted two fingers, pushing his long digits all the way in. You moaned and furrowed your brow as he didn’t move for a moment, letting you adjust.
“You’re so wet for me already, darlin’.” He purred, his forehead on yours. You whimpered and nodded. He started to pump inside of you, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit. Immediately you started to squirm, which made me smile.
“Jesus Christ, Andrew.” You said, your eyes flickering to his fingers moving in and out of you. Heat rose in you as you watched him, the pleasure evident on his face as he licked his lips. When your eyes found his again, you found him looking at you, and not his handiwork.
“I love seeing you like this,” He said plainly, “You’re so beautiful when you squirm.”
He increased his speed, causing you to buck your hips. He nodded, his eyes twinkling, as he continued to pleasure you with his fingers. He leaned down to kiss you – a hot, open-mouthed kiss, with his tongue finding yours immediately. You moaned into it as he curved his fingers inside of you and took your bottom lip in his mouth, sucking gently. Pulling away, he dipped his head and moved his tongue to your hardened nipple, sucking on the bud as your body started to convulse under him.
The coil in your belly was tightening, and fast. Your hips started to buck faster, your wetness pooling out on to his fingers. You started to repeat his name like a prayer, and as you moved closer to the edge, your hand found its way into his hair again, tugging lightly.
“I’m close.” You whimpered.
“I know,” He smiled, moving his mouth to your ear, “Come for me. Be a good girl.”
You gasped slightly at his words as the coil snapped, bucking your hips one last time before your orgasm sent waves of pleasure through you. You moaned loudly, gripping the back of his head tightly as he bit down on your earlobe, never stopping his fingers inside of you.
“That’s it,” He groaned, his voice raspy, “That’s it, pretty girl. Give it all to me. Show me how pretty you are when you come for me.”
Your head swam and your heart raced, your eyes squeezed shut because you could focus. The pleasure that was spreading through you was warm, electric – it was one of the best orgasms you had ever had, and it was only with his fingers.
Jesus Fuckin’ Christ.
After a few moments, Andrew slipped his fingers out, causing you to open your eyes, your breath coming in heaving pants. He was smiling, obviously proud. Slowly, he licked his digits as he stood, moaning.
“Jesus, you taste delicious.” He said, looking at you. He undid the button and zipper on his pants, the obvious tent of his arousal very evident before he slipped them off. Down came his pants and boxer briefs, his large member springing free, wet with precum. He made his way over to a duffle bag thrown on a chair in the corner of the room and rifled through it, finally emerging with a condom in between his fingers. Opening it quickly, he slid it on himself, pumping himself a few times as he walked back to the bed, his eyes never leaving yours.
“Are you ready?” He asked, straddling himself in front of you, continue to stroke himself.
“Actually, if you’re not inside of me within the next few seconds I might lose my fucking mind.” You said, watching him. It was silly, but seeing him touch himself in front of you like that made him seem like a god. He smiled and crawled on top of you, slowly positioning himself at your entrance. As his tip teased your wet folds, you whimpered.
Finally, Andrew slid himself inside of you in a single thrust, his forehead finding yours again. Your moans filled the room, and as he started to pump inside of you, the familiar numb feeling of being filled spread throughout you.
“So good,” You said, closing your eyes and pressing your head to the pillow, “So, so good, Andrew.”
“That’s it,” He said, his breath hitching, “Wanna make you feel good. You make my cock feel so good.” He dipped his head in the crook of your neck as he started to slowly increase his pace, finding himself deeper inside of you. The sound of your wet skin slapping together filled the room, matched only by your breathy groans and his primal grunts.
“Fuck!” You shrieked, Andrew finding a particular spot that made your vision fuzzy. Andrew tilted his head up to look at you and he smiled.
“Yeah? Right there, darlin’?” He asked. You nodded, your brows knitted together. His hand found your chin, holding it roughly, “You like it when I fuck you right there?” You nodded again but he shook his head, “Lemme hear you say it, baby.” He gently commanded.
“Fuck. Yes, Andrew, right there!” You said, unable to take your eyes off of him. His eyes darkened as he continued to fuck you, his face flushing.
“My name sounds so good on your lips.” He groaned, continuing to pump in you. Sweat was beading on his forehead as he continued to hit your spot. His hand moved from your chin to your tits, and as he pinched your hardened nipples, you moaned. His thrusts became erratic, irregular.
“You’re close already, aren’t you?” You toyed with him, taking a moment to bite down on his bottom lip, “My pussy so good you’re gonna come for me?”
“Fuck,” He barked, furrowing his brows, “You’re so fucking tight…you’re so wet…I’m gonna come soon. I’m close,” His face flushed deeper as he stared into your eyes, making your heart thunder in your chest. Suddenly, he squeezed his eyes shut, his head thrown back, voice parted in a silent moan.
You felt his cock twitch inside of you, the condom filling with his orgasm. He jerked his hips, almost a spasm, as he moaned your name. His hands gripped the pillows on either side of you, his biceps flexing. You smiled as he finally opened his eyes, almost in submission as he rode out his orgasm. Your hands found their way to his back, gripping him and bringing him closer.
A few moments went by as he stayed inside of you, trying to catch up with his breathing. He placed gentle kisses on your cheek lazily, finally rolling out of you. Standing, he quickly made his way to the bathroom to toss the condom and clean himself up, but laid next to you again, scooping you up in his arms.
“You’re fucking incredible.” He murmured in your ear, his Irish accent coming out with his tired demeanor. You giggled and looked at him, brushing a sweaty lock of hair behind his ear.
“I’m really glad that party sucked so bad,” You said. He chuckled, his eyes still closed. Opening one, he looked down at you.
“Me too…” He paused for a moment, drawing you closer, “Though, even if that party was fun, I still would’ve made my way over to you.”
“Yeah?”
Andrew nodded and shifted so he was propping himself up on his elbow, “Yeah. I had been trying to muster up the courage for like…three awards shows to come over and say hi to you, now. Months worth of time.” He was somewhat bashful. You blushed.
“Well I’m glad you did.”
“Me too.” He reached out and started to brush his fingers through your hair, and you couldn’t help the fluttering in your chest.
That party sucked. But you were glad it did.
---
A/N: I'm actually kind of obsessed with their banter and relationship...should I make this multiple parts?! I was originally only planning on doing this as a oneshot but I kind love them (teehee).
As always, comments and reblogs mean a lot if you liked this one <3 Thanks for reading
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my-love-is-sunlight · 22 days
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Too sweet (for me)
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Law x strawhat!reader
gn reader + fluff
100% inspired by Too Sweet by Hozier the moment he dropped this I knew I had to write something about Law from it so here you go, I even incorporated some of the lyrics
Trafalgar Law doesn’t get it
How were you able to slip into his mind so carelessly and without notice? Law had never envisioned himself liking someone as sweet as you
For starters you were a strawhat, already on the wrong track, but alongside Robin, you were of the ones Law tolerated the most since you were usually more introverted and took things seriously, which made him start gravitate towards you
Big mistake
Surprisingly he found out your quiet facade was something reserved for strangers, once you warmed up to his presence everything changed
You looked after him, bringing his black coffee when he stayed up all night in the library, urging him to sleep at normal hours and enjoy his time at the Sunny. You opened yourself completely for him to devour all details facts and antics of yours. Your presence filled every room he sat at, listened to whatever he had on his mind, or stayed in a blissful silence if he needed you to
Law had taken notice you were strong and handled yourself in the battlefield just fine, another reason he saw you as one of the most competent strawhats, but even though a lot of people feared you, you remained kind, bright as the morning, soft as the rain, sweet as a grape
You had become Laws favorite sweetener, he became addicted to every inch of you. He’d drink up every look you’d graced his way like neat whiskey, every word like his favorite melody and every touch he wished it to tattoo it on his skin, always waiting for your frame to appear through every door he encountered
But most importantly, you kept telling him to live right
To take down his tall walls, to speak up about the matters that roamed in his mind and heart, to stop indulging in bad sleeping habits and overworking himself to exhaustion, a task no one seemed to fill in his life, he was a Captain after all
There was no shame in being soft, sweet and tender, you always seemed to try and tell him
Yet he wondered how had you managed to keep yourself like that, brightening his and your crews days, after all, life has had its way with you too
And he couldn’t handle it
Who would’ve thought, the surgeon of death feeling threatened by a silly feeling
It ate away at him, the way his heartbeat accelerated whenever you were at least in the same table, his stomach turning at every look he stole whenever you smiled or laughed, or the rosy pigment that painted his features at the mere thought of you
He felt like a deer in headlights. Still Law couldn’t help but to follow you around the Sunny like a stray cat, reaching for you in any situation he was able to keep you closer, craved your presence and to hear your melodic voice ring in his ears, and whenever you said his name? Heaven couldn’t compare
He wondered how fast had this happened, he didn’t notice all the affection he was harboring for you until he couldn’t backtrack, he thanked whatever god was out there that made you so oblivious, it seemed like everyone on the ship noticed the way Law and you glanced at each other and how you would spend your days sitting together in every room but you
But here he is now, under the moonlight staring down at your twinkling eyes that could easily be mistaken for one of the stars above you, his hand traveling to the back of your head before he gives you a look as if asking ‘may I?’ to wish you answer by doing the sweetest thing he could ever thought of
You smile and stand on your tip toes collapsing your lips in his, ending his endless pining as you melt into each other like you were meant to be like this
Trafalgar Law doesn’t get it, when he tastes the sweet sugar of the chocolate drink you had that evening on his lips and doesn’t mind it at all, even if he takes his coffee black every morning
He could even say, he loves it
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
I’ve been listening to Hozier since his debut album I even saw him live and got a shrike tattooed on mu arm OF COURSE I was gonna write this and the first thing that popped into my mind was Law so here you go. Sorry it’s short uni has been eating me alive
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calliopesdiary · 21 days
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“you’re too sweet for me”
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summary; you partially own your mums coffee & flower shop, so it’s no secret that you’d have a little (big) work crush on a boy whom you only know from his signature on the receipts.
ships; poly!marauders x fem!barista!reader
contents; mild language, reader has long enough hair to tie up into a ponytail, sirius is a flirt
a/n: this is so short but i needed to write something having to do with this song!! part two anyone??
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YOU HAD A LOT OF ENERGY for 5:30am.
thirty minutes until opening, you tied your hair up into a pastel pink ribbon.
the soft and crisp spring air pooled into the shop from the open windows, as you set some fresh flowers at your counter.
“ready for opening, dear?”
“yes, mum!”
you responded.
she had certainly noticed your level of chipperness in the mornings had doubled since you started working there, probably because of the young man she’s seen you conversing with every morning at exactly 7:42 am, which was when he always came in.
unless the boy was sick, or busy he’d be in the shop atleast once a day.
“can’t make coffee to save my life, you know?”
he’d always insist.
you heard the bell on the door chime, alerting you of the first guest.
“hi, welcome in.”
you turned around to spot him, and two other boys. odd.. he usually comes in alone.
“new friends, hm?”
you teased, leading him to smile brightly.
“no, they just don’t wake up early enough.”
you nodded, grabbing your pen and paper.
“what can i get for you?”
you were surprised how well you kept your cool, i mean— the other two boys were almost as good looking as he was, and it really made you question yourself.
“i’ll have my usual, darling.”
Sirius— atleast that’s how you thought his name was pronounced— leaned against the counter smugly, as his tall, lanky friend scoured the menu.
“can i have the iced caramel mocha, please?”
the slightly less tall, messy-haired brunette with circular glasses smiled sheepishly.
“do you have almond milk?”
“mhm.”
“okay… can i have an iced matcha green tea latte with almond milk?”
the lanky one finally asked.
“of course, can i get a name for each?”
you fidgeted with the pen in your hand softly.
“Sirius, James, and Remus.”
“how are their names so hot???” “god y/n… you dirty slut, you should not be thinking this way about customers.”
“….your drinks will be ready soon.”
you flashed a small teethy smile as you rushed to go make their drinks.
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you brought their drinks out on a tray, and set it down on the table.
“enjoy your coffee.”
you smile softly and begin to walk off.
Sirius gets up to pay, and pulls out some cash.
“there you go, love. amazing as always.”
he winked, and you desperately tried to keep your composure.
“any time.”
he signed the receipt, and as you grabbed his change. you decided to make a bold move.
besides, would him and his gorgeous friends really call the local baristas number she left on the check?
the answer was yes.
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marxo-fm · 23 days
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Take me to Church
✯ John Price x f!reader | Playlist
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Summary: A reader who’s so religious that she doesn’t even think of anything close to inappropriate, until she meets her dad’s best friend, Mr. John Price.
Words: 4.7k
Warnings: MDNI 18+, mature themes and language, age gap (reader is 25 and Price is in his early 40’s), religious trauma from Catholic variety, dad’s best friend, loss of virginity, pet names, slight aftercare in the end, fear of getting caught from reader, smut, assurance, fingering, reader isn’t all that clueless but super inexperienced, protected PIV, oral (fem! receiving), reader has some troubles with masturbation (failure to finish), Price teaches the reader how to feel good, praising, no descriptions of readers body, race, skin color, ethnicity, hair type/length and body type.
A/N: Currently don’t know wtf I’m doing with my life and how this absurdity came to mind, but aye, I’m all here for it. This was so…..!? Yeah. Also big shout out to Hozier, my icon. Side note: I truly apologize If this fic is rough, I will edit it soon but it’s mostly because I haven’t written in a hot minute, due to school and shit, but I’m back now—and I’m proud of this!
The breeze kisses your skin as you soak the sun's warmth on a Friday afternoon. The grass is green, and the clouds are out, summer has just begun. You feel yourself start to come back, you were struggling but now that’s over—for a bit. You look over as you watch your dad chopping wood. Usually, he has his friends helping out, but you guessed they had things to do, which explains why they weren’t here.
You memorized their names.
There’s Gaz, Simon, a man who goes by the name of ‘Soap’—which you find funny and you’re not sure if that’s his real name or if it’s just a nickname—and then…John.
Mr. Price. Or so you call him. Sir or Mr works just fine. But you never explored your unknown and strange feelings for him. How you always felt so shy around his dominating presence, or how his voice sounds like honey and sins. You prayed at night and asked for forgiveness when thinking of such thoughts you’ve never thought of when you see John.
Until one day in high school—in health class—they taught about intercourse and other things that left you baffled and quite scared. Anxious. Curious.
You’d get scolded by your Catholic parents when you asked such things, they say it’s too early to get into these topics, or that you should wait until marriage. Your parents are good, but you always follow their rules. You never once disobeyed, only minor times but you always asked for forgiveness.
You’ve always been a good girl, but Mr. Price always makes the fire in your belly grow. And that fire burns through your veins in an excruciating need for something so sinful. Maybe it’s the devil on your shoulder, but you never fight it off, and that was bad.
“Hey honey, ought to help me out here? The jerks I call my friends are out busy somewhere, c’mon, I’ll teach ya.” Your father motioned his hands as he walked to his area where he chops his wood, you’ve never done this before, but you’re excited. He gives you his axe, and you almost give out due to how heavy it is. “Can’t carry it like that sweet pie, hold it strong and firm.” He instructs.
You do as he says, squinting your eyes to look at his face of approval, “I think I got it.”
He nods and you bring the axe up to your shoulder, and you bring it down with every ounce of strength.
You chopped it.
“Attagirl, that’s one hell of a way to chop down wood.” A man with a deeper voice and a southern drawl said from right behind you, you turn around and the blood rushes to your head.
It’s John.
“Oh…Mr. Price,” you stammer, and you feel a rush of embarrassment plastering your cheeks.
“Y’know ya can call me John, right? Good job raisin’ her pal, she got manners.” He chews on his toothpick as he takes the axe from your hands, and the contact leaves you feeling vulnerable and so flustered. His rough hands that he used to work, chop wood, and fix things felt oddly familiar on your soft skin.
“We taught her well, ain’t that right darlin’?” John looks over his shoulder, his flannel covering his bulging biceps and that itself makes you feel thirsty for cold water.
“Yes, Dad,” you replied softly, “Well, I’m just going to head on over back home to help Mom out. Want anything to drink John?”
John looked at you momentarily, the way his name slipped out of your sweet mouth left him speechless. His eyes gaze over your white dress that sits just above your knees, it feels like he is undressing you, but he’s just wondering how and when the hell you looked like this. Of course, you were always beautiful, but there was something special there.
A spark.
“No ma’am.” He waved his hand and went back to work. You watched as his forearms grew bigger when he swung that axe down.
Forgive me for my sins.
You mumbled before you opened the door to your home and walked in.
“My baby’s such a bad girl, aren’t ya? Takin’ me so well.” John praises as he thrusts into you in sinister motions like he’s been deprived of something so good for such a long time, that it almost drove him over the wall.
How you felt so good, so welcoming, as his thrusts became deeper and faster. Touching parts of you that you didn’t even know existed—nor could feel. It was an out-of-body experience like your soul had ascended, and you didn’t know whether it was real.
Until your alarm woke you up. It wasn’t real, but gosh did it feel real. You’re sweating, and your heart is running a marathon, as you regain your breath, you feel like you committed a crime. A crime so punishable that it could result in a death sentence.
You grab your rosary and you rock back and forth, praying and asking for forgiveness for ever dreaming about him. Your parents always told you that you wouldn’t have a good spot in the afterlife—a place called hell—if you thought of or committed any acts of sin. Especially anything and everything related to dirty inappropriate thoughts or worse, sex. Commit any of these before marriage, and you have a spot ready for you down below.
You feared for your life, even though it was impossible for anyone you love to know. They won’t ever know you have thoughts about John, or how you feel warmth between your legs when you picture him touching you in places you can’t please. Or how you picture him shirtless chopping wood, grabbing your waist from behind as he helps you hold the axe properly and swing it down. It was oh so shameful of you. Dirty, bad, sinful.
But you feel as if enough was enough, you’ve been good for far too long, that you deserve to feel good about yourself for once.
It was the perfect time, six thirty in the morning and both your parents were sleeping away, not knowing their good and obedient daughter was yearning to touch herself.
You lock your doors for safety as you scurried back to bed, you lay down on your back as you skim your fingers down your chest.
Deep breathes in and deep breathes out. You don’t know how to do this, but you’ll give in anyway. You sigh as you pull your shorts down, with your underwear as well. You drew circles around your belly before trailing down to your heat. Soft gasps escaped your mouth at your sensitive touch. Sensitive and swollen from the dream you just had.
You close your eyes, rubbing circular motions on your most sensitive area as you picture John doing this for you instead. Rough and hard-working hands aiding you. A coil in your stomach tightens, urging you to untie right then and there, but you can’t get the motions to stay the same.
You winced as you pushed your finger deeper, your back arching in response. You don’t feel anything, no pleasure, only pain and emptiness.
You want to scream in the agonizing torture of being so close yet so far away. You pull your shorts back up as you go inside the restroom to wash your hands.
You committed acts of sin and weren't pleased, and now you feel nothing but guilt and insecurity of not knowing how to do something right.
The next day, the same place you were before. Outside on your dad's truck watching his friends help out with work. John wore a tight brown tee that accentuated his muscles, he's a retired man, but you could see every ounce of blood, sweat, and tears in that body of his.
You blush, thinking about it. About what could be hiding under his shirt.
He catches you eyeing him but you quickly divert your eyes back to your book. John smirked, telling your dad he'll be back in a second and wants to talk with you.
"Ya watchin' me, sweetheart?" He smiled, taking a cigarette out of his pocket. You watched as he did so, fearing that he'd ask you to take a puff, though you never would. "I...I was just trying to learn how you chop your wood, sir."
A deep chuckle escapes his mouth, "Y'know I can teach you, doll," the new nickname had you unable to face him, but he loved seeing you flustered. He took a puff and you nodded, "Come on over to my place, your dad won't mind. I'm not at home much, anyway. S'good to learn y'know," he went on as he walked closer to you, his southern accent becomes deeper as he goes, "You'll have the privacy that you need, to read your books and pray." He knew how religious you are, heck, he's a good friend to your parents.
"I don't know if my father will let me go, with a man nonetheless." John looks back and then back to you, "It's only me, angel."
You decide to ask your father, just in case. You don't want to go behind his back, even if John is family. You walk on over, building the courage to ask your father if it's okay to go over to a man's house, a man you yearn for.
"Dad, is it okay If John takes me to his house? He's gonna teach me how to chop wood." Your dad looks at you momentarily, before speaking, "Of course honey, just because I want you to help an old man out here and there. 'Aka' me." You tried to keep your cool, to not look so eager about going over a man's house.
John smiled, the thought of having you all to himself at his place gets him straining against his jeans. He loves it when you eye him as if he doesn't know or sense when you drool over him.
--
"Here's your room, sweet thing, if ya ever need anything I'm just a shout away." He sets his tools down and walks to the kitchen, his jeans shaping his toned legs and shirt sizes too small. Butterflies invade your stomach, merely at the thought that you'd be sleeping under the same roof as this man, and willing to teach you something you're so interested in.
"Can't believe your dress is that short, doll. Your mother let you out like that?" He eyed your white dress that sits just above your knees and shows more skin than the dresses you usually wear. "You know, Mr. Price, I'm an adult now."
"Course you are," he takes a sip of his beer, "but I ain't take you as the one to dress like this. Can't say I don't like it."
You smile, flustered at the way he just complimented you. You can't deny that you like it, you love it. It sent a rush of arousal through your entire body, and he noticed the way you crossed your legs.
"Damnit,"
"What is it?" You asked curiously, not knowing that John saw the way you squeezed your thighs together. He wants to ease the need and desire that coursed through you, but he doesn't want to screw it all up.
"Nothin', now come on outside."
--
"Now, you're going to hold it just like this," he instructs, pushing his hard body against your back as he holds your arms. You could feel the hardness of his strain on your back and you scream internally, unable to form coherent thoughts.
You made this so hard for him, so difficult to the point where John himself forgot what he wanted to teach you.
"Easy," his calloused hands left your arms and snaked their way along your waist. Your stomach flipped at the action. Goosebumps flare over your entire skin, his manly scent entering your nose and taking over your mind. You swallowed, and continued.
"Now raise your axe, and swing it down."
You did just so, and you successfully chopped the wood.
"That's it, angel baby, look at ya. Such a good learner."
"I am, aren't I?" You slightly bit your lip, John cursed himself and cupped your face. "Mm, damn right you are." John wondered deeply if you were such a good learner in other parts as well. Price cupping your face was a first, but his calloused hands that signal just how much of a hard worker made the intense throb between your legs grow.
--
You wake up with your blanket suffocating as you struggle to fall asleep, again. You tossed and turned, repeating everything and every touch he gave you. You try to stop the need and the burn in your belly, you really do, but it's hard when you don't know how to fulfill your need. It became so bad to the point where you stood up and walked to the kitchen for water.
He wasn't in his room, he was out for the morning. A busy man and you're so silly for thinking he'd be home, even when he informed you he wouldn't be home every passing hour.
But oh how much you needed him. In ways, you couldn't forgive yourself for it.
You sit down, as quiet as a mouse, waiting patiently for him to come back just so you can confess your dirty sins. Maybe he'll forgive you for them, or maybe he won't show you mercy.
You try to occupy yourself, laying down on the couch and turning on the TV, still in your nightgown. You pull the blanket over, ready to watch a cooking video to learn a few things.
But it hits you that you're actually able to do something about the heat in between your legs, now that nobody is here. The house was quiet except for the TV playing.
Your hand trails under the blanket, lifting your nightgown as you reach for your soaked underwear. Shameful how you're soaked even when he's not around, John really leaves his mark on you. You let out a sigh as you reached your wet and sensitive clit.
It's not easy when you struggle to please yourself, it's so disappointing, honestly. Today was no different.
There is this creeping guilt, but it always hits you the most just when you creep up the tip of the mountain, only for you to fall off when you realize what you're doing.
You can't stop thinking of him, shoulders aching and tears urging to escape when you're so close to reaching the end, only for it to be unsuccessful.
So, you close your eyes and let out a deep breath. Spreading your legs further as your fingers plunged into your aching hole, you gasped. Picturing yet again, how he pleases his women. Of course, he knew how, he is well experienced and capable of pleasing a woman, to the point where she forgets her own name.
You're committing acts of sins in his own home, unforgivable and dirty. Because you were raised with the idea of being perfect, but no one is perfect. From the moment you're born and the moment you die--but the moment you die is the moment John Price fulfills your dirty little dreams.
He whispers in your ear telling you how to do this and how to do that.
'Just like that.'
'Those fingers are too light, darlin', lemme do all the work."
"Attagirl, in and out."
And you almost reached the top of the mountain, whispering finally as sweat buds trail down your forehead.
Finally, finally, finally.
Until you fell down the mountain you tried so hard climbing, when John swings open the door to the sight of his best friend's daughter getting off on his couch. You hurriedly pull your panties back up.
At that moment, you wanted to scream.
To run away.
To die.
He's going to tell your dad, and your entire body freezes. You can't plead for forgiveness when you're so far gone. No mercy will be shown when he kicks you out and tells your parents how bad their daughter truly is.
You sit straight as your body shakes in fear, you're unable to cry when you know your fate.
A sinful girl.
"John," you choke, "I-I am so so sorry, I didn't mean to. I really wasn't-"
"How long have you been at this?" Your heart drops all the way down as the blood from your face drains. "O..only," you struggle to speak as his deep brown eyes gaze at you, "It was only this one time."
You lied.
Another sin.
He stands in silence, shutting the door behind him as he takes big steps towards you. He hovers over you, looking down to see a dirty girl in front of him. As if you played this innocent and sweet girl, though you were, except in John's eyes you weren't. At least that's what you thought.
He takes your chin and pushes your head up to face him, you weren't able to look in his eyes, it was all too much.
"Look at me," he grumbled, you did just what he said. Not once resisting, although it was difficult.
"I ain't mad at ya, it's natural, honey."
Your eyes widened and your shoulders relaxed from the tension and fear.
"You're not going to tell on me?" You asked, Price chuckles.
"Course I'm not, I ain't no snitch, I'm a grown man." He bends on his knees, his thumbs rubbing circular motions on your exposed skin.
"Did it feel good? Sorry to have ruined it for ya' angel." It sure did feel good knowing you almost reached the top, it really did, but it felt better having John assuring you that it was all okay. "You don't have to be sorry--I was just..."
"Go on."
"Continue what I interrupted, don't let my presence stop ya," he signaled his pointer finger toward the door to his room, "it ain't comfortable here. No space to spread those sweet legs, is there?"
You shake your head, "Go on, unless you want me in there. I know deep down you do, doll, you can feel so much better." He's right, the moment you've been dreaming of, it finally comes true. How could you say no to John being in the same room making you feel good?
You almost can't believe it.
He suddenly picks you up from the couch, initiating a soft gasp from you when he opens the door and throws you on his mattress.
You balance yourself with your two hands when he undresses himself in front of you. Starting off with his shirt. You gasp once again, at the sight of his sculpted body before you. His chest was full of hair and his toned dad bod was the definition of perfect.
He gets on the bed and slowly crawls towards you, his head now in between your thighs. "I interrupted your time of need, sweet girl, let me make it up to you." He smiles before hooking his finger on the hem of your underwear, pulling them down all the way to your ankles. On display right before him, so shy you hid away, unable to look at the lewd sight in front of you. "That ain't gonna work for me, eyes over here." His fingers dug into your thighs, you did just as he said, looking at his eyes that continue to look at your pretty pussy.
"S'fuckin' wet."
It's a dream come true for John as well, to see you all wide open and soaking wet for him.
He places peppered kisses along your thighs, and you whimper as he stops. John makes his way up to your lips, biting your bottom lip before kissing you deeply and hungrily. Exactly like the dreams.
His stache brushing against your top lip only made it feel real, his tongue deep inside your mouth as your hands held the back of his head, pushing his mouth impossibly deeper. He's eating your face as if it were his last meal on death row. Like a predator catching his prey.
He pulls away from the intense kiss, the saliva leaving both of you.
Good God did he know how to kiss, you let him do all the work when you could barely kiss him back just as good.
His chest heaved, and he continued with his kisses on your neck and down your collarbone, pushing a soft moan out of you that drove John over the wall. "Make more noises, it's only the two of us, jus' let me hear ya." He cooed, his hands lifting your nightgown over your hips and then over your head. His eyes trailed over your breasts hidden in your bra. "Ah fuck," you sit up, allowing John to unclip your bra, the sight of your chest out on display for him made his mouth water. He grips your left breast with one hand while he sucks and kisses the other.
"Oh, John...keep doing that, please."
He kneads your breast, almost putting you to sleep with how good it feels, "mmmhm," you sighed, "you been wantin' this, and I'm sorry for waiting this long." He apologizes as he places kisses down your belly and finally makes his way back to being in between your thighs.
"No need...to be sorry," you breathe, tilting your head back when he swipes his tongue between your wet folds. The new feeling alone made your legs tremble, enticing a loud gasp from you. You start to rock your hips against his mouth as his deep groans vibrate through your entire nervous system. "Taste like fuckin' Heaven, oh sweet baby, I think you are heaven itself." Praise that had you dropping your jaw as he inserted his hot tongue in your hole.
You swore you saw Heaven.
Brows furrowed and back arched as he eats you like a hungry man, your hands gripping the sheets underneath you, and your legs spread further open inviting him in for more.
John inserts one finger in as his tongue continues to suck on your most sensitive area, and you let out the loudest moan you didn't think you were capable of ever making.
You died in this moment. And John swore he died in that moment, also.
"John," you pant, focusing on what could be your first-ever orgasm.
"I know, you're close baby, s'fuckin' tight, come for me." His words of encouragement suddenly break the coil inside your burning belly, the liquid seeping out of you as he continues to lick away every last bit from you.
He takes his finger and licks you away, which leaves you half-lidded.
"See? How hard was that? Like rippin' a damn bandaid off, does your wound feel better?" He teased, "It does," you say softly, still reminiscing what happened a few seconds ago. What you just felt, how it felt like fireworks exploding inside your veins.
"Such a perfect pussy, waiting to be full of me." He unbuckles his belt and unbuttons his jeans, you've never had sex, but you definitely never needed something more than now. You need him, to get to know him, even when you already do.
"Does it hurt like they say?" You asked nervously, watching as his jeans disappeared, leaving him only in his boxers. His thick thighs didn't do much justice in the dim light.
"When I do it, then it shouldn't be as bad, doll. Jus' a little pain, but if ya feel like it's too much, you jus' tell me. Hm?"
It makes you feel special with how sweet he treats you, he treats you with such care that it truly makes you dizzy.
He takes off his boxers and you almost lose all consciousness, his cock leaking with pre-cum and hard, you thought it was quite inhumane how big he is.
Sure you've explored your curiosity, but John, he differed from all of them.
"Poor thing needs some love and I'm going to show your pussy what the definition of love is." You grew heavy with desire, "ya need me to use a condom, sweetheart?" he asked, you nodded, simply because you weren't on the pill.
He opens his drawer and pulls out a condom, ripping it off with his teeth and spitting a piece of the wrapper out.
That was a sight for sore eyes.
He slips it on his thick cock, the condom intensifying every vien, it left your mouth dry like a Sahara desert.
How was that going to fit? Was all you were thinking about, but you were so sure he was going to make it feel okay.
He sets his heavy cock on your soaking entrance, teasing you while he moves his dick up and down your folds, you whine with need and John chuckles.
Was this the sinful thing that would literally damn you for eternity? How could something so dirty feel so good?
He brings a hand of his to pin your arms down, while the other holds your leg close to him. Your brows furrow as he slowly enters himself into you. John grows concerned when he sees your lips pursed and your eyes shut tightly, a tear escaping.
He stops, and you stop holding your breath.
"It hurts don't it? Want me to stop?"
"Please, no," you gasp, "I...I want you to keep going."
He readjusts your hips, before proceeding to continue, "You sure, honey?" You nod and whisper a hundred times yes before he thrusts deep inside of you.
"So fuckin' good for me, fuck!" he shouts, he loved the way your cunt fluttered and wrapped tightly around his cock.
The silence in the room was filled with his groans and loud moans from you, so lewd and so dirty. But you're too far deep to leave now, you're ready to die, happily.
"My," he thrusts, then pulling away and thrusting back in deeper, "gorgeous," you gasp when he continues his rhythm of thrusting and being so close to pulling out before he thrusts impossibly deeper again, "Girl." He breathed.
He brings his fingers to circle your sensitive clit, and you feel it happening again. It's more intense and heavier.
Your walls wrapped tightly on his cock, initiating that you're indeed closer than you have ever been before. "Mhmm," he moaned, and it was such a sweet sound you so badly wanted to hear again. He grabs hold of your legs, bringing them closer to your head, thrusting at a deeper angle that you can feel in your throat.
"That's it, baby, that's my fuckin' girl right here. All mine, gimme one more." He stopped as you cried out his name over and over until it became engraved in John's brain. He silences your cries with his lips as your legs shake around him.
"You did so well for me, your pussy jus' needed some medicine to be cured, got you coming all over my cock." He begins to move again, to finish himself this time. Your pain turns into pleasure and familiarity when he pushes himself in and out.
"John, that feels so..." He groans loudly at the way you watch his cock slide in and out, it was obscene but also surreal, "look at you, fuck, gonna make me cum just lookin' at me like that."
Which you felt so good about, it's all you wanted.
He pants as he reached a certain point, chest heaving as you can feel his cock twitching inside of you.
John pulls out, and there's sadness in your heart at the emptiness. Your heart thuds loudly that your first time to be with a man you dreamed about, it feels euphoric. You felt ecstatic.
He wipes away your dry tears and your hair away from your face, that drowned in sweat and tears.
John admired you the second he laid his eyes on you till now, he never knew the definition of perfect until this moment.
"Can you teach me how to feel good?" You asked as your hand roamed his broad shoulders and his back. And fuck, did John love that.
"Course' baby, on top of the choppin' the damn wood lessons," you both laugh, "I got all the time in the world, for you."
Your heart ached, he whispered sweet nothings before he carried you into the bathroom to clean up the mess.
Then you nestled under his arms and his body heat, his chest, and arms hugging you as the two of you slept the day away.
It was worth every waking second, and now you can sleep peacefully.
--
A/N: Y'all, wtf. Gnawing at the bars of my enclosure. Need him.
This lowkey needs to be edited some more now that I’m reading it, but I’ll definitely do that later…
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