#i folded like an outdoor chair

[mandalhoerian]

moth to a flame | leon kennedy x reader

pairing: leon kennedy x f!reader

summary: Break-ups are never easy. Thankfully, you've been preparing for yours for a long time. Leon doesn't let this revelation go for reasons you cannot fathom when he's the one who wants to leave.

word count: 9K

warnings: angst, smut, thigh riding, p in v, kinda body worship, switch leon, he subs for like a moment and goes this better not awaken anything in me

notes: i winged this please don't judge me. also, "plot"-wise, this is an extension of my leon love language post. header template can be found here. enjoy the filth

🌀 read on ao3!

📍 continue to the BAD ENDING!

📍 continue to the GOOD ENDING!

In hindsight, you’ve seen this coming. Your face barely moves at your on and off situationship of two years forcing out, “I think we should break this off.” 

So faint and unsure it’s barely above a whisper.  

He looks so uncomfortable hunching over, forearms resting on the countertop, breakfast untouched, as if trying to make himself smaller than you, it’s absurd considering the nerves of steel you envy him for, and sure, he’s adorably awkward sometimes for a man of his looks, but not like this. Never vulnerable like this.

The kitchen is gloomy despite the bright winter sun seeping through the windows, almost suffocating because of his uncharacteristically transparent malaise. Leon isn’t one to openly squirm, and in turn, it’s making you all the more nervous — nothing about this is fair when you were thinking you got all the practice needed from imaginary scenarios and possibilities on all the directions the eventual separation would go.  

He can’t look at you, shaking his head nervously, choked by the silence. “Say something.”

How funny it is that he’s the most fit man you’ve ever known, could lift you with one arm without breaking a sweat— one bicep literally the size of your head, yet looks like he’d cry if someone touched him right now. It’s a hard to swallow, unreal pill that you’re the one doing this to Leon, making him weak like this. 

You’ve never known you had that kind of power over him until now, how he says he wants to break up but would throw up if you actually say yes.  

You shift in your seat, the wood of the chair suddenly digs sharply into your skin with how hyperaware your body is of all the surroundings to deviate your attention from Leon, folding your hands on your lap. 

The answer is at the tip of your tongue, it was stashed away there months ago. Of course you’ll let him go. 

What makes it easier for you is having consented to how absent and private he warned half the things involving him was going to be, or it’s that you knew from the start your time with him would be limited. You just don’t question it; completely skipping the first four stages of grief and jumping readily to acceptance. 

The lamb knew it would be slaughtered by the nurturing, kind humans, and yet it still got attached to them; Homer straight up told the readers how the story would end right at the start of Iliad, yet the fall of Patroclus and the rage of Achilles burned the same, if not worse — you knew Leon would inevitably fall apart and run away one day, yet chose to cherish your limited time with him all the same.

It can’t be called a tragedy if you agreed to how it would end in the first place. 

Leon Kennedy is ephemeral in his nature, daydream-present and lucid-absent in your life all at once. You thought of him as an outdoors cat, never really yours in the first place, randomly shows up whenever he wants to, reluctantly leaves out of nowhere — a flighty, mysterious companion who’s happy and eager to be there but withdrawn when poked and prodded. 

You accept him as such, love him all the same.  

You’re not sure if he loves you just as much. 

Fondness and like is there, enough for him to have stuck around for this long, but you figure it’s because you’re safe and constant. You’re happy to have provided him with at least that because you’re not sure what he saw in you, to be honest. 

What’s happening is painless enough to go through exactly because of this, you hadn’t let yourself get too attached to Leon knowing he isn’t into you as much as you are into him. Maybe you are deluding yourself, maybe you are numb and not as apathetic like you thought you are, but you’re convinced this is how it should go — how it’s meant to go. What’s the point when you’re aware your name won’t be at the top of his list? 

The insecurity surely is a small part of the ‘Leon Kennedy Breakup First-Aid Package’ you’ve been cultivating over time in preparation to cushion your own fall when the time would naturally come, but it doesn’t cover the shape Leon is in that even when he’s the one breaking your heart, he looks like he’s shouldering the pain you’re going through on top of his. 

This is why you can’t ever be mad at him. You wanted to be with him knowing the way he is, after all. 

Leon is a mess despite trying not to show it, his messy straw-blond hair doesn’t shine like it usually does, he hasn’t conditioned it, the golden sheen to it wilted almost. His bloodshot, red rimmed eyes are dim in their blue, laser-focused on the black coffee mug he’s tightly gripping, the skin underneath his lower lashes spread out in faded pink-purple half-rings and it only ever happens when he hasn’t gotten enough sleep in more than a couple days’ time whenever he has to be away for an unprecedented amount of time, or gets buried too long in his paperwork. His thumbs are wiping at the place he puts his lips on and have a sip at the contents of it you’ve seen he fed some liquor to a few minutes prior. He’s awfully domestic in his black sweater and pants, not at all looking like he just asked for a breakup.   

You take pity on him. 

“I see. Alright.”

His head shoots up, eyes immediately finding yours, no longer blank. He doesn’t seem sure if he heard you right, expression disbelieving. “What?”

“How do you want to do this?” Mirroring Leon’s anxious movements, your own fingers trace the rim of your own teacup. “You could start gathering your things today, but if you want to call it a day, I don’t mind—”

“No—wait—what are you saying?” 

“I’m saying okay, Leon.”

He winces at the name, gaze escaping from you again momentarily and he has to blink, the lack of your usual pet name for him must have hurt him, you presume. He has to swallow before talking. “This is it?”

You’re not sure if it’s directed at the end of your relationship or you letting him off easy. “I don’t understand. What else was I supposed to say?” 

“I don’t know, I just—”

This isn’t being hopeful, but you ask anyway. “What did you want me to say?” 

He sighs in return, tearing away his gaze and hiding it with a hand that wipes at his forehead.

Yeah, it isn’t your hopes that were crushed. You adamantly tell yourself it isn’t. He’s being nice as he always is, of course he’d question how agreeable you’re being, it’s not like his resolve is going to change. “I’m just being cooperative so we can—”

“Aren’t you angry with me?”

That was the problem?

“I’m not, Leon.” 

“How can you not be?”

“Well, I…” It’s because you love him, but bringing this up would only make it harder. “I’m not sure. You’ve been that good to me along the way, I guess. I don’t resent you for anything.”

He has that subtle sarcastic look on his face you would take as mocking if you were a total stranger, but you know better. He’s being self-deprecating. You could read it. But you should, he’s thinking. You should resent me. 

You don’t. 

The thing with Leon is he’s too good to be true that his only flaw is being a literal ghost. A well-meaning ghost who’d send presents upon presents and work his ass off to make extra time for what he had to give up on every time your plans falls through with unexpected shit that came up from his mystery job at the White House he never talks about that has him battered and bruised each time he turns up after prolonged leaves.  

Which is an oxymoron considering how attentive and absent he is at the same time. Sometimes you wondered if he’d fix his habit of being a clam about everything concerning himself after you guys were through, but imagining him becoming more open and changing for someone else hurt too much.

“Don’t you want to know why? I mean—god, why are you just taking it?” 

“What do you mean taking it? You’re not doing this to hurt me, look at you, Leon, when have you last slept? It’s hard on you too.” 

“That really doesn’t have to do with anything right now,” he dismisses. “How are you this unaffected? I’ll take it if it’s to get back at me…”

“It’s not.” You stand up, appetite lost. You want to wrap your food up and put it in the fridge to eat later, and this way, you don’t have to look at him while saying the sentences you have rehearsed for so long. “If you want to break up, I can’t force you to stay—or into anything you don’t want to. It’s not fair for either of us. You’ll be stuck with someone who you don’t want, and I’ll have to live with the knowledge I’m with someone who doesn’t want me.” 

You find him staring at you when you’re done, your hand stays wrapped around the handle of the fridge door at how tortured he is. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

He shakes his head, blond strands framing his face gently swishing in the air. He does the angry eyebrow scrunch whenever he disagrees with you strongly on something you’ve said, but decides not to at the last minute, and you find yourself the tiniest bit disappointed at him not refusing he doesn’t want you. “You always— you always do this... Be angry. You have to be angry at me.”

You find refuge in the kitchen sink, washing your hands. “Stop it. I don’t want to fight, please.”

“So you are angry.”

“I’m not!” You slam the water shut a bit too forceful and you breathe for a second before turning to him. “I’m not. Angry. I’m sad, yeah. An understatement. Who wouldn’t be?” 

He just says, “I’m sorry,” at that, and hates it’s the only thing he can manage to give you, it’s blatant in his face. 

You take a seat at the chair directly next to him, you both need the intimacy of good communication at the moment. “But I had a lot of time to mourn, alright? It’s not that I’m taking it or being passive or whatever—”

“Mourn?”

His eyes search yours for a second, and the realization leaves him breathless, the insides of his brows raise up, making him look younger and more innocent. “You were expecting this.”

“Yeah, I mean.” Your lips press together, and you chew the insides before hopelessly shrugging, a small smile doing its best to put itself together. “Look at us. It was never going to work out in the long term. Not really. I consider two years a miracle, to be honest. I don’t know how we got this far.”

“All this time we were together.” Leon’s voice is thick, on the verge of shaking, you weren’t expecting him to take this so badly. His pupils devour all the blue from his eyes, he has never looked at you this hostile before all the hair on your arms rise up. “You were just thinking about breaking up? Have I only ever made you insecure?”

“Not all the time—it’s just—” You swallow. ““Why are you angry at me now? What did I do? You are the one breaking up with me.”

“And here you are okay with this. You’re telling me you didn’t think we’d ever work out when I—” He huffs. “I didn’t even notice a thing. You weren’t happy at all. Ever? You were uneasy all this time?”

“No, Leon, you’re not listening to me. What I expected was that you would leave one day, eventually. Because that’s how you are. That’s how your life is.” He leans back when he gets what you are alluding at, rubbing his face with a hand, refusing to look at you — but out of anger this time around. “I know you wouldn’t be able to stand being in limbo about not letting yourself go and wanting to at the same time. I know you felt bad about everything. I guess it’s just not the right time?”

You don’t say, right person and wrong time, it’s wishful thinking on your part—Leon probably doesn’t think that, someone else seems to take that crown in his heart, you know that all too well. 

The muscles on his arm closest to you flexes, he must be thinking about taking your hand in his, so you remove them off the table and nestle them between your thighs. Any physical contact from him might lead to you crying in the end. 

“I’m sorry I made you go through all that,” he laments. “Why didn’t you talk to me?”

Your head tilts sideways. “It wasn’t about me, Leon. Suppose I sat you down and complained you weren’t open with me, you were distant. Especially when you weren’t ready for the conversation. I’ll tell you what would have happened. Two weeks of radio silence.”

“Ah, c’mon…”

“It’s not something you haven’t done before. You said it was work, but… You know. I get it.”

Leon exhales from his nose and lowers his head, broad chest puffing up with rapid breaths, his neck is getting redder by the second. You’ve never taken him for someone with an explosive anger, but it looks like that could change any second. 

“I wish you wouldn’t take this to heart, I’m not saying this to hurt you when I say I knew this was always going to happen.” You’re talking like you’re trying to soothe a tiger, and he especially looks to hate it. “You can’t possibly have expected me to ignore it. And it wasn’t going to come from me either, I’m happy to be with you either way, but—”

“That’s the problem.” He has his head between his hands, like that could possibly hide him away from the conversation. “I treat you like this and you still say that.”

You wish he wouldn’t be this hard on himself.

“I signed up for this.” He tilts his head at that, accusatory, and you get more agitated in return. “I know your circumstances. You can’t help being absent most of the time, I understand. I understand more than you think.” His forearms hit the counter loudly, he looks about to spit fire any second, but you don’t let it happen. “However. It’s no way to continue a relationship, I know that too. My perspective is that it shouldn’t be guilt that comes to your mind whenever you think of me. I wish things could be different. I wish I could be a priority to you—”

Leon’s face sours, and you stop talking when you see it. 

You didn’t mean for the words to hurt him as they did, explanations becoming distraught. “Look, I like you, you know this. Possibly too much. More than I should. You have to understand that’s why I’m being this amicable with you right now. Break-ups don’t always have to end in fights, sometimes things just don’t work out, and that’s what’s happening right now, isn’t it?”

It doesn’t reach Leon. His gaze is faraway, defined jawline locked clenching and unclenching. 

“If it makes you feel better, I was angry for a while.” His hand comes down from rubbing a circle in the middle of his brows, eyes shifting back to yours. “But it is what it is.”

“You’re not even gonna ask?” he says, defeated.

“Would you tell me anything different from what I know?”

He opens his mouth, but the only thing that comes out is a sigh, one of his legs shaking, and his head falls forward, curtains of dark blond hair covering your view of his face. For a moment, all you want is to slip your fingers into the silky strands and comb them back, take his heat away, the pads of your fingers on his smooth cheekbones, you know he’d melt into your touch straight away and his expression would lose weight of the strain he carries you can only imagine the root of most of the time, but you abstain. 

He wouldn’t appreciate it on the brink of a break-up, you were about to become nothing but strangers. 

That’s why it’s abrupt when he leans forward and captures your lips in an unfair, unfair kiss, the force of it makes his teeth clack against yours and you grimace, retreating to break it. His hand slips to the side of your neck to pull you back in, the drag of calluses and heat against the skin of your neck sends goosebumps all over your body, his thumb caresses your cheek in a loving way that hurts but his lips are frantic in their gentler search to open your mouth to his, and suddenly you can’t breathe from how much Leon keeps advancing. 

Turning your face away to break the assertive, overwhelming liplock, you take in lungfuls of air as you look as away from him as you can, panicking at the way he presses his forehead to your temple and the way his nose nudges your burning cheek, he doesn’t budge when you attempt to push him off the second you realize you’re enjoying this. He’s built like a fucking tank. “Leon—”

“Say no if you don’t want it,” he breathes, right into your neck, the tickle is mixed with something dangerous that sears your skin along with the low rumble to his voice directly in your ear, and you have to stop yourself from squirming, a coil of incandescence binds its threads together in the depths of your stomach. “Say it and I’ll stop.” One muscular arm hooks around the back of your upper thigh and one around your waist, he quite literally snatches you off your chair and plops you down on his lap, each of your legs hang from the sides of his hips, and you yelp at how effortlessly Leon seems to arrange you to his liking. 

He’s needlessly, uncharacteristically cruel. You would always want him. Leon knows this. 

“You’re so—” Your breath hitches when his fingers bypass your shirt and sneak up the bare skin of your waist and his other arm readjusts you as he buries his forehead in your shoulder and you gaze at the top of his golden hair kissed by morning sunlight and take in the familiar scent of him and his shampoo. His body against yours leaves a festering sweet longing. “So unfair—you were just breaking up with me—”

He bites down at the meat of your clavicle and you draw in a short breath, the dig of his teeth sting, but he immediately soothes it with a lick and his tongue is hot, too hot. “Unfair?” he groans, you contain the shudder at the emotion he keeps at bay and at the path his blunt fingernails make above the clothing from your hips to the sides of your legs, he’s never been like this. “You already left me in your mind before this and I don’t even know exactly when.” The tip of his nose faintly traces the curve of where your neck meets the shoulder, the tickle is unbearable, aching, you wish he would have left marks instead. “You were always thinking of leaving— our time together didn’t matter to you. What do you think that makes me feel like?”

“That’s not—” You grip both of his biceps and feel the protruding veins and the flex of the muscle underneath the skin, intimidated as always by how both of your hands added together were too small to form a full hold around one. I work out a lot, was his excuse while you were first getting to know each other as acquaintances, and you’d thought how this man belonged with someone of his league. “You’re the one—” 

“You dummy, I’m not leaving you because I want to.” Leon’s arms circle your waist and pulls your body flush against his in a crushing hug, his head finding home under your chin and against your chest. It’s innocent and you feel the helplessness, the desire to hold but not be seen, but you don’t know what to do in return, his words don’t quite register. “Why would I ever when I—“ He cuts himself off, breathing shaky as the rest of the sentence dies at his throat. “Jesus, I can’t believe this.”

You tentatively hold his shoulders, surprised at how taut they are. How winded he is like some wire. “I don’t understand.”

“You are just letting me leave like that. Like some business deal done and gone, you just…” 

You can’t help the sound that escapes as he bites your earlobe. Why does he keep biting? 

“Ow!—“ Leon starts sucking, the wet sounds and his breathing directly in your ear sending shivers down your spine, and you’ve had enough of his thought processes ending up being completed by his lips on your body. 

He’s easily able to overpower you, but obeys when he feels you’re genuinely pushing him away, some strands of your hair get stuck on his face and the view of the detained obscenity of his expression  —the half-closed eyes and the missing blue, the flush of his cheekbones, glistening of his pinked lips— sends a hot wave downstairs. “It’s you. You! You’re the one leaving, Leon, I don’t get it—“

Some clarity through the pinkish haze of want dawns back to him, and he gingerly combs the threads of hair away from your face, some of them behind your ear. “I don’t want to. That’s the thing. I thought it was clear as day.” Leon searches your eyes, looking down at the details of your face, your heart races as his stare gets stuck at your lips the longest, he isn’t even aware he’s doing it and you feel feverishly desired from his insatiable look, from the slow movement of his Adam’s apple. “But—“

“You can’t help it. Right?” Your thoughts are blurring together, and he’s a black hole pulling you in. “I understand—“

Leon kisses you again, and your stolen exhale turns into a pleased hum. “Stop saying that,” he whispers with inches between your lips, eyes closed, so close your breath is his.  

“What do you want me to say?“

“Stay.” He takes your hand and brings it up, planting a singular kiss at the inside of your wrist, and then rests his cheek against your palm. You can only stare at the vulnerability he’s offering you on a silver platter, the tormenting softness is blinding. “Stay.” 

Your heart soars. God, you’ve longed for him to give away that he wants to be with you all this time, the insecurity is a blanket you’ve hidden under, this is it, but he’s so torn and you don’t get his struggle, what he must be hiding for such a visceral reaction. He wants to, but he can’t, and you don’t know why, having accepted he wouldn’t tell you from the start anyway. 

But you ask. You ask anyway. Hope is a flightless bird waiting for her wings to grow each day. “Will you?”

Something shifts, a delicate moment broken, and Leon draws back, his eyelashes flutter as if he’s shaking off some daydream — and then he’s upset, a pinch in his brow. “I’m sorry.” He shakes his head. “I can’t—“ You’re grabbed from the arms and scooted away from his lap, putting some distance between the two of you. Leon is physically pained, unable to meet your eyes. “I don’t know why I’m being like this.” He holds your hands between the two of you, and you get whiplash from the passion just mere seconds ago and the tenderness of this touch. “I can’t keep doing this to you. I don’t know why I’m this unreasonable, it’s so childish— Shit. I’m sorry, I’ll just—“

“No.” You cup his face in both hands and he looks like an abused puppy tasting kindness for the first time. “Stay for a bit.” Your heartstrings are tugged by the way Leon’s eyes are lit up. “I want to have you. One last time. Is that alright?”

A beat passes.

“Yeah,” he says, blanking out at first, but then repeats stronger, his fingers sink into the plush of your thighs as he licks his lips. “Yeah.” He turns his head and kisses your palm, somber. “You can have me however you want.”

Leon doesn’t look like he’s particularly looking forward to it. “You sure?”

“I’ll always want you, any day, any time,” he says, and you’re flabbergasted at the burden of his meaning. But you force yourself to look past it, look past the unguarded and unarmed honesty, choosing to interpret it in the language of lust. 

“Not here, though.” You get up from his lap and he doesn’t stop you. “It’s kinda cramped.”

“We can make it work if you’re up for it,” he half-teases, one corner of his lips curling up, his eyes are humorless. 

You snort. Easy for him to say. He’s fit, you aren’t, that’s why being on top can’t last half the time without his assistance. “You can. I certainly can’t.”

“You keep saying I can’t to me, knowing I take it as a personal challenge.” Leon’s touch moves up your forearm and in one swift move, he pulls you in between his legs. He leaves a kiss at the lower valley between your clothed breasts. “Maybe you’re doing it on purpose?”

You’re heating up right away. “I’m not—”

Leon pats his right leg, pulling up the sleeve of his shorts all the way up to the hipbone, exposing the well-endowed, firm thigh. “Sit here.”

“Your leg’s gonna get a cramp,” you say, but it’s hardly a complaint, your crotch has begun to contract at the thought of feeling the flawless skin slipping against your slick folds and how he would mold the tendons to fit just right for your pleasure. Expectation was pulling you tight right from the start where he had you hanging from his every word.  

Leon’s almost offended. “It won’t.” But his encouragement is gentle. “Come on, sweet girl.” Hooking one arm between the two layers of the bands of your underwear and pants, he lets them snap back against your skin after he pulls considerably. “And you’re taking off all that.”

You let it go. Immediately. “Fuck, okay.” 

It’s morning. You’re in the middle of the kitchen. And you’ve forgotten all of that, head lost in the beginnings of a dull throb between your legs. Your dignity would have been trampled on if you were too enthusiastic, so you try to take your time, and he asks, “How do you want to go about this?”

“Huh?”

His hands ride up your knee and inch up, his thumbs in the line of your inner thighs, and your first instinct is to press them together to alleviate the ache, but Leon’s forcing them apart. “You can have my tongue or fingers first. To help the friction.” You swallow when the nail of his thumb scratches the material of your panties and feels the slight dampness, and he’s watching your reactions very closely. “Or you could just sit down.”

You don’t have strength left in your knees anymore, head spinning with the way his darkened, narrowed gaze is simultaneously bearing down on and  looking up at you, and Leon helps you settle your weight on his leg after sliding your underwear down your legs, the warmth of his palms on your naked hips alone is vexing enough and it’s embarrassing that he feels the particularly strong pulse of your sex. 

He angles his leg up and you slide forward with the gathered moisture, arms catching onto his neck in surprise from the sudden jolt of pleasure. “Eager, are we?”  

You aren’t normally bold like this, would let him keep softly teasing rather than give the same energy back, but there’s a certain finality to this time, your brain is liquid smooth from the tantalizing delight of his touch, and you don’t hold back to inform just what he does to you breathily. “Always for you.”

The movement of his leg staggers and you look up to see him caught completely off guard. And the next thing you know, Leon has you in a bruising kiss, or you think it has the strength to bruise, he hasn’t been this rough before, and you certainly haven’t been craved to this extent in your entire life before him. 

This time you accept his tongue willingly into the cavern of your mouth, his fervent licks and gasps rise the question of who’s really the more eager one here, but it doesn’t really occupy space in your mind, limbs stilling overall from how he steals away all bodily functions with just kisses that radiate desperation. 

Leon ushers your hips to languidly move when you fail as a multitasker all the while the swirl of your tongues continue to tangle, and it proves difficult as your slide against him becomes smoother and wetter with him finding just how to pull the hood of your mound while you’re pulling back and drag against it in the correct angle, flexing his thigh accordingly. 

He pecks your jaw. “Faster?”

Skin contact goes straight to the tightening spiral in your stomach like this. “I can’t—”

“Don’t say you can’t.” He does something that has you dropping down from heights by circling his leg, and completely out of your control, small noises emerge from the back of your throat and you can’t kiss him back anymore. “Do you want it faster or not?”

You try to hum in agreement, but he catches you in the middle of it and jerks you forward, the sharp zap electrifies all your nerves and grants him a startled moan, you can barely see the satisfaction in his face from the sudden tears. You were somehow in control of the pace previously, but once he knows you want it faster, it’s him that anchors your hips to the edge of the stars, a man on a mission. 

Leon begins to leave open-mouthed, wet kisses on your neck that has you tilting your head to give him more room, and you’re glad his heavy gaze isn’t drinking in your bliss-stricken expression anymore. “You hear that?” His question is thick. “Listen.” 

The noises your wetness make sliding across the muscles of his thigh in a rapid speed makes some of the blood rush up to your cheeks, and the knot is stretched so agonizingly beyond the point of no return that you’re hurling towards absolution, legs beginning to shake and your whines become sweeter. “Leon,” you pant, the fever to keep going as he is conveyed in one singular word reaches him. “Leon—ah, mmh— I’m— Leon!”

“Yeah, I got you.” Adoring kisses are peppered along your jawline and your fingers clutch to his blond hair, pulling him in, your stiffened, perked up nipples are smushed in the press of his chest against yours, and you arch into him like a cat, lost in the ascending ecstasy. “Just let go.” He bites down and your sore walls clench around nothing, the pulsating increasing in intensity. You’re on a thrill ride, shooting up, up, up— “Come for me, sweet girl, come on, give it to me.”  

With a sharp, choked cry, and the throw of your head back, the coil explodes and unravels, white sparkles in your vision, and Leon holds you down when your body tries to fly off with the force of your orgasm, the sinking of his hands into your sensitive flesh only heightens and sends crashing waves as he helps you ride through it, rocking lazily with you back and forth. 

“Oh god,” you shiver, clinging to him, upper body basically draped across his chest as the pleasure rolls into a stinging ache of pain with the overstimulation, bones jiggly from the floaty feeling to get away yourself. “Too much. Leon. Too much.”

His voice is croaky. “Yeah, we’re not done yet.” 

He stands up with his arms supporting your legs around his waist, and you hold on for dear life. It scares every single time he does this. Leon makes it look so easy to carry you around from room to room without breaking a sweat. 

The full meaning of his words only get to you when you’re thrown on the bed, wind knocked out of you. “Leon, wait, aren’t you going to Spain tomorrow, don’t you have to prepare—”

“I’m preparing,” he says, putting one knee on the bed and oh god, the shine on his thigh, the drench, that was all you—- “Need to get my fill of you to last for the whole trip, yeah?”

It’s more like he’s saying, ‘To last for the rest of my life’, the hunger and melancholy makes for a Frankenstein’s monster of ravenous, unquenchable yearning when you’re right in front of him and your flame is rekindled.  

More than one round with him is uncommon most times because he’s simply busy and moves around a lot, you weren’t used to the practice, build wired to exhaustion taking over when he was finally done with you, either hot, heavy and fast or sweet and intense, each time leaving you with honeyed sore bones and the best sleep following right after. 

Arousal pools in the pit of your belly thinking about what comes next. 

Kneeling at your feet, he taps your tight-locked  knees. “Open up for me.”

It’s morning. He could see every detail of imperfection in this light and uncertainty washes over you for a second before you do as he wishes, the sheets crinkling and rustling beneath your shifting, and he gets on his stomach and puts one of your legs to his shoulder when you thought he would be entering you already. 

Flustered, you get up on your elbows. “Leon, you don’t have to.” 

“Didn’t think you wanted to get it over with right away.” Sliding his hand up, he fans his fingers on your tummy, thumb pulling at the skin dipping into your vulva, and looks up at you from his eyelashes. Little sparks of pleasure light up at each stroke. The weight of his arm is wonderful. “Breaking my heart over here.”

“It’s not that, I…”

He scooches up, and the knowingly feather-light kiss he leaves on the inside of your thigh, close — right there but not there, makes your leg twitch. “Oh, you wanted something else?” The teasing view of Leon inches away from where you wanted him was a sight for sore eyes, but his sudden hot breath on your post-orgasmic sopping heat broke your daze, making your hips attempt to jump up, but his arm had you absolutely pinned on the mattress. “Well?” 

It’s not something you’d planned, but his wanton beauty looking up at you shoves an image inside your brain unexpectedly, reminding you how you’d said you wanted to have him, not the other way around. This is going to be the last time Leon would be like this with you, and there were so many things left unexplored. What would it feel like to have this feline-gracious, strapping man underneath you, to run your lips through his unbelievably sturdy body all over and return the kindness on how good he’s been taking care of you? Leon was always perfect to you. Is perfect. Your wish to present him with how exactly on top of the world he has you feeling for your final time, to return the favor. 

Leon has stopped moving and it’s because of your lack of reaction and the long look of contemplation regarding him. You lift his hair away from his eyes. “Can you lay down on your back?”

“You wanna get on top?” he asks, but doesn’t object to it, moving up on the bed and sitting up, getting the hint on taking off his clothes, enamored, you watch his abdomen flex and limbs stretch like a cat’s as he slips his shirt off and throws it away and shimmy off his briefs. Every single movement of his is a wonder. 

“No, I want to touch you,” you say, stare not knowing where to focus on him and his half-hard dick jumps at your words. “Explore you.”

He meets your eyes, pupils blown, and swallows, nodding. “You’re gonna kill me.”

“I wanted to have you, remember?” 

There’s a semblance of a laugh and Leon rolls on his back, one knee up and hands on his stomach, blond hair fanning around his head on the sheets. He looks like a sculpture. “And how will you have me?”

“Pleasured without thinking of pleasuring,” you explain, he’d be better at the dirty-talk in your position, perhaps say something like ‘Crying for me’, but you’re way too fascinated by him to think about what would have him helplessly turned on. “Vulnerable.”

You would be lucky if you are able to push him to the point of not even one thought behind those pretty blue eyes, but you just want to make him feel good, and with that in mind, reach a hand and trail the tips of your fingers through the prominent web of veins along his forearm, his fingers jump, and you continue through his upper arm, lingering on the sharp lines of lighter-colored small scars until you reach his shoulder, feeling the cluster of the goosebumps that rise in his skin. 

“Seriously?” he says with an annoyed timbre and you see him having gone completely hard, eyebrows shooting up in shock. “You’re going this slow? Am I some package you’re unboxing?” 

“You seem to be enjoying it,” you murmur in interest, and Leon sulks at how you run all five of your fingernails all the way down the lower of his belly button and how it’s hardly even a graze at all. His abs keep contracting. “I barely touched you.”

“You, haah,” he sighs at you straddling and hovering above him. “Don’t need to point that out.”

Leon tries to hold onto your thighs but you maneuver him away, and unsurprisingly, he isn’t pleased by that, groaning. “Oh we’re doing this?”

“I’m touching you. Stay still like a good boy.”

It’s your usual banter, but for some reason, he turns his face away and closes his eyes for a second, wetting his lips as if his mouth is dry. The line of his neck clenches and unclenches and you feel the brush of his dick lightly hit the inside of your leg. You’re fascinated again. He likes this more than you expected. “God, you really want to kill me.”

Leon could stop it if he wanted to. Switch it around. It’s not like he hasn’t done it before. All the times you’ve attempted to ride him and your knees and calves failed you, he ended up sitting up and hugging you close, fucking up into you and kneading your insides from below and littering your shoulders with angry red marks, taking control of the pace, especially riled up from how endearing and sexy you were trying your best to pleasure him, in his words. He can do it again, but doesn’t. Just lies there, all for you, stuck between a rock and a hard place — which, in this case, is his discomfort and enjoyment. The lack of stimulation gets him going. 

You lean down and nip at the corner of his mouth, and he responds immediately, turning back to you, chasing the kiss. His hands come up to your waist but you take them off, pinning them to his sides, and Leon complains through sharply breathing into your mouth. “I’ll only,” Kiss. “Hold you.” Kiss. “Please, just let me—” You lightly bite his tongue. 

As if he couldn’t do it if he truly wanted to. He is letting you do this to him. Pleading. In that tone of voice, too. You’re in over your head, what is happening? 

“No,” you say, kissing his jaw and caressing the hinge of his opposite jaw with your thumb, sounding stern but feeling silly inside, unsure if he’s amused by you deep down. But Leon huffs again like a spoiled brat not getting what he wants. 

You’re shell-shocked, but continue your pursuit to find out what else he likes, settling on his ear, making a line through the outer rim of soft tissue with your tongue and sucking kisses until he’s shifting around, you can hear how he’s trying to level out his breathing, then you bite, and he hisses as you repeat it over and over again. 

You’ve heard that some men enjoy getting their nipples played with, and you caress and massage, knead and fondle all over his torso with both hands as the switching of your gentle and silky mouth and the needling pleasure of teeth assault his ear, and you listen to his heavy breathing the occasional hitch of it until you circle around one nub, and flick it, rubbing down and pressing the pebbled nipple inwards, just like how he does it to you, and twist the other one. His face hides itself in your neck, and you let him have that, at least. 

His exhale turns into sound and he shuts it down pretty quickly, opting to speak up instead. “Can you—” he begins, and then tuts, sounding nonchalant, but you hear it. You hear the thickness of contained arousal. “Can you move on already?”

“You want the other ear?”

His head jerks in your position at you saying that straight into his ear and breathing into it, you know the thin sheen of saliva coating it makes the sensation sharp and cool and warming at the same time. “No—” he says, but you ignore him, cutting the rejection off by taking his other earlobe between your teeth. “Jesus Christ, this isn’t necessary—”

“If it isn’t, why is this wet?” You ask, watching him closely, tapping the pearl of clear liquid gathered at the tip of his ramrod straight hardness. It’s scalding hot, throbbing at the contact. Leon hisses between his teeth, trying to contain it, and sighs as your index finger circles the tip to spread it around, another bead of precum swelling in the wake of your touch. His eyebrows are scrunched, lips thinning and returning to their usual plushness with him pushing them together, a dust of pink coloring his complexion, a weak glare is on you. “Just enjoy it.”

“I could if you actually did something already.”   

You wrap a tight hand around Leon’s needy cock, heavy and thick, and he shouts, the cry turning into a high-pitched whine you would never dream of coming from him and he clamps a hand on his mouth right in the middle of it, hips bucking into you, head thrown back, blown eyes horrified at what he just did. His breaths are loud and shaky, face turning red in seconds, and you watch, utterly captivated. You’ve seen adorable sides of him before when he lets himself be light and his brow isn’t hanging close to his eyes in that grumpy mood, but what you have right here…   

You’re drunk on this side of his, nibbling at his exposed throat. “You’ll take what I give you.”

“God,” he whispers behind his palm, with a subtle tremble when you squeeze once and let go. His hips stutter up before falling back. Leon’s embarrassed. “Fuck.”

He doesn’t retort back, all of the sass packed and left. You can’t believe this is working. That Leon’s obeying you like this. He’s leaked all over your hand. Oh my god. 

And you’ve really barely even done anything to him. 

You can’t help but wonder if this is you doing this to Leon or he’s just into being bossed around in general. 

How further can you push?

“Look, you’ve wet my hand,” you say, bringing your glistening palm up and separating your fingers after circling the gathered precum around, a thin thread forming between the digits. Like a hawk, he watches you lap it all up and you don’t take your eyes off of his, hearing him grip the sheets. “Still gonna act like this isn’t doing anything for you?”

Leon’s voice is gravelly as he rasps, “Kiss me.” It’s something between a request and a demand that if you don’t do it, he will. 

You oblige, pushing down on his chest to get him to lie down again when it’s apparently too slow and soft for him, and he avidly presses forward to make it rougher, intertwining his tongue with yours harsher to the point of your mixed drool sliding down his chin for more. 

He’s yanking and pulling on his clasp on the dreadfully wrinkled covers in self-restraint as he bites and licks and pulls at your lips, butterflies light up the pit of your stomach and thrash against the liquefied rapture that throbs in your pussy and seeps out, the need for attention growing impatient by the minute.  

You go down and focus on kissing his neck, alternating between openmouthed licks and bites, careful not to leave marks, insides doing a summersault at the small noise of disappointment he makes that transitions into husky gasps. Leon still is concerned with suppressing any kind of unbecoming sounds he’s appalled to come out of him, and you’re bothered by that. Pressing your palm on the head of his cock and twisting sure does the trick to vocalize him a bit, restoring your confidence. 

“Ah… Can’t you just directly touch it,” he sighs gruffly. “This isn’t enough—”

“You aren’t asking nicely enough.” 

His head snaps down, brows raised in disbelief, self-consciousness clouding the teased promise of bliss that edges him on, and you stare back at him pointedly — however, on the inside, you’re worried if he’d ever beg at all. 

You twist your palm with added pressure enough to alleviate the pain, but not enough to carry him to the peak he wants to get to, and his shoulders jump up, “Ah!” Biting down on his momentarily trembling lower lip and shaking his head with closed eyes as if he doesn’t want to see you watch him be like this, he mutters, “I’m gonna get you for this…” 

You grip the base of his cock so hard his hands fly up to your wrists and with a shuddering whimper, stop at the last second before he touches you and he drapes his forearms on his reddened face instead, his back rises from the bed involuntarily, Leon’s flat-on squirming and hating it. 

“That’s not nice,” you tease, pressing your legs together in momentary relief and waves of pleasure that slip on your skin like silk, and narrowly stopping the moan. You breathily add, “What do we say?” 

“Please,” so fast and quiet, humiliated. You understand, but don’t let him off.  

“I didn’t catch that.”

“Fuck, please, come on, please.” His hands ball into fists and his arm veins pop out and his right knee curls upwards. “You can’t keep doing this to me—AHH—mhhmh—!”

His sentence gets cut off into incomprehensible babbling once you start pumping your fist up and down his neglected erection, not even needing lotion for it, he’s drenched enough to make the slide beyond slippery. You add your other hand into the mix and begin teasing the tip, and his chest, having developed a thin layer of sweat and gleaming in the sunlight, is heaving, and he can’t swallow the gasps and noises anymore, fingernails digging into his palms. You can only see his puffed, rufescent lips from the way he’s covering his face.  

“Wasn’t what I had in mind, but I’ll take it,” you say, and it’s genuine. This much alone was too much, way beyond what you thought could happen. Leon is always in control, he has it together so brilliantly that this is actually him falling apart, it’s an enthralling, spellbinding natural disaster so beautiful you can’t look away, want to touch yourself to the sight. 

“I’ll show you what I have in mind,” Leon all but snarls, and he has you on your back and pulls you towards him by your legs harshly even before shivers can go down your spine. “Let’s see if you can take that.” 

You pushed him past his limit it seems, and he darkly stares you down, eyebrows scrunched and beads of sweat rolling down his temples. sweat-dampened hair curtains his face from both sides. His hand slips behind both of your knees and scratches at the smooth skin of the crevice, shooting lightning directly into your core, and he hikes them up to hook over his shoulder and hugs one bulging arm around to hold them together, lining himself up with your slit with a trembling hand, dragging the cherry red, furious tip up and down, slipping it in for a bit, catching your insides in a tantalizing drag, and then taking it out next, making your toes curl in the air and drawing squeals out of you. 

Leon would normally send you to the underground and back from how horribly he’d tease you for being this drenched for him, but he’s strained and silent now, snapping his hips against yours and burying himself to the hilt in the spasming cavern of your pussy in one go, with no resistance from how ready for him you were, ripping a fractured cry from you as your vision blacks and stars dance behind your eyes. He groans gutturally, cock pulsing inside, and you feel the sound in your body. You’re overly sensitive from head to toe, and even the sheets sliding against your burning skin makes your clit throb painfully, deliciously. 

He doesn’t start slow or build to something, it’s quick and rough right off the bat as he’s ramming into you with no mercy, and he’s basically catapulting you into glorious completion, but you need more stimulation, more, something more—

He slaps your hand away when you try to reach down to your clit to slip two fingers between your tightly shut legs and falls on his forearms, “No way I’m letting you do that.” Leon arranges your legs to wrap around his waist, grinding against you. 

His attention then shifts to something else and he pulls on the sleeve of your shirt that’s still on, a scheming shine comes to the blue of his eyes that worry you, and then he’s leaning in and forcing it up. It’s hard for you to move your back and slip it off with the way he’s pinning you down, and it dawns on you late after you make the mistake of raising your arms that it’s what he wants after all. After getting your head out, Leon turns it inside out around the entire length of your arms that act as a makeshift restraint and leaves it like that, you’re incapacitated with your hands over your head like this. 

You whine, this is so about not letting him touch you, and he thrusts up sharply to shut you up, sucking blossoming reds into the crook of your neck, hands pulling and pinching at your nipples. It’s building up. It’s building up, but— “You’re going to come like this.”

The frantic slap of skin against skin is echoing in the room and you struggle against the bunched up shirt around your arms. “Can’t—”

“You’re doing it on purpose at this point.” He laces his fingers into your hair on top of your head, thumb on your forehead in little caresses, contrasting how he fucks you shallow and fast, his voice a couple octaves higher than it usually is as he angles your hips upwards to hit deeper, and your moans are a metronome in beat to his ruthless pace. 

“Yeah, that’s right, take it!” Eyes glazed over, mouth agape, the muscles in his thighs jumping, body pulled taut, wrecked and somehow begging, Leon doesn’t leave a single spot unkissed on your face and throat and he’s hurling towards an uncontrolled craze, he’s so close himself. “More? You want more? Too bad, this is it—mmm—for what you just did to me, and you’re gonna take it!” 

You’re clamping down on him and he hisses in your ear as you repeat it like a mantra, Leon is wrenching a merciless orgasm from you and you have no control over it, “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, can’tcan’tcan’tcan’t—!”   

Leon’s delectable weight pins you down as you shoot up with the detonation of the pleasure into a thousand pieces, rippling through your body in building waves, your pussy clenching down on him catches him off guard and he unceremoniously spills into you with a choked, staccato shout shuddering, the succulent warmth coating your insides and adding to the ecstasy, and it just keeps coming, his load is too heavy and too much. Your stiffened legs lock the shivering man in place and tremble around his waist as he languidly rides his bliss out, forehead sticky against your clavicle, the sheer strength with which he holds you against him is euphoric rather than suffocating. 

“God, what the fuck was that,” he mumbles at some point, collapsing on top of you and turning you around with him so he won’t crush you, pulling you to his sweaty chest and putting his chin on top of your head. His scent has you in a fuzzy daze. “What did you do to me?”

You don’t respond, consciousness slipping from your fingers and pulling you deep into the sweet comfort of the dark. 

You feel his hand on your cheek, lightly nudging. “Hey, you okay?” 

“Mhm,” you manage to make out. “Wanna sleep…”

“Okay, sweet girl, I got you,” he says, soft and endeared, from far, far away. 

And with that, you’re out like a light. 

When you wake up, you find yourself thoroughly cleaned up, in comfortable, cotton pajamas, with no Leon in sight and a small note left on your nightstand with the keys to your apartment on top of it. 

It reads: Had to go. I’m sorry about not staying until you woke up. Talk to you when I get back.

You plop back on your fluffy pillows and sigh, chest hurting. It was always going to end this way. In hindsight, you’ve seen it coming. 

Your heart doesn’t agree, tears freely falling from your eyes. It’s really over. Leon really left like that. Just as he came into your life. 

You don’t have the right to complain. You’d agreed to it in the first place. 

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s. kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy #leon kennedy headcanons #leon s. kennedy headcanons #resident evil 4 #re4 remake

[palmtreesx3]

Deeper for You

Summary: (5.1 k) It's your annual beach trip with the crew from Hawkins, something you've all been doing together your whole adult life after life forced everyone to part ways. You're all close, but this year, an accidental encounter in the outdoor shower makes you get a little closer with one person in particular.

This is self indulgence at its finest. Fresh off my last week at the beach this summer, I needed a little Beach Steve in my life to tide me over.

Steve x Reader, NSFW 18+ Accidental exposure, friends to lovers, breast play, female oral, fingering, dirty talk encouraged, a little orgasm denial, maybe a spank and unprotected intercourse in the shower.

Crystal water. Crystal skies. Beach chairs circled around umbrellas and coolers. Crisp beers slipped in aging koozies and passed around like old times. You and your friends have been doing this for years. Ever since goals and lives and even some wives have taken the group here and there, Nancy started organizing this annual beach trip for the group from Hawkins. Years and miles have nothing on deep seeded trauma, she said once, in a too cheerful voice despite it's truth.

The heat of the sand between your toes and the smell of suntan lotion have become a comfort to you, just knowing you're back there with your closest friends. As you all creep closer to thirty than you'd like, this week never fails to make you feel nostalgic, youthful and forget all of your problems because it never feels like an ounce of time has passed with any of these people.

This year Nancy had to upgrade the rental - more rooms for yet another married couple in the mix, Eddie adding a wife - a little too sweet but just enough sass for him - into the fold. It was your first time meeting her, really meeting her, because no bride has the time for new friendship on their wedding weekend, and you've had such a nice week spending time with her. Chairs in the sand by the waterline together with a book most afternoons, leaving the raucous energy that comes after some morning beers as background noise to your fantasies.

"What are you two ladies reading over here anyway" Steve pokes at your shoulder on his way down to the water to cool off.

"They're fantasy novels, Steve. Naughty books, if you must know." You tease back, Eddies wife blushing beside you at your brazen honestly.

"Naughty books? Like love stories where they kiss and share a bed?"

"No Steve, like '... And then she felt the tips of his finger circle her clit before toying with her folds and the wetness pooling between her thighs. Edging her, pulling her closer but never giving her cunt what she really wants'" you read in an exaggerated and breathy voice direct from your page, picking up right where you left off. "That, Steve, is Naughty Books. "

"Shit. Okay. Well I'll leave you two to it, then. What the fuck." and he trots off into the waves. Sunkissed skin a perfect contrast to the white, foaming waves he's now floating in.

"So, that… you guys have a thing before or something?" Eddie's wife asks softly. So sweet, you can't even be mad at her for it.

"Steve?" You laugh, "No-no no. Just go way back "

"Oh I'm so sorry" she squeaks out, "I just thought… I mean you guys. Nevermind."

"Don't worry about it. We're all a little too close for comfort sometimes. I get it. We just have always gave each other shit as long as I've known him, that's all."

Later that night, the whole group gathers in the back of the house around a huge built in fire pit, all taking turns sharing, giving updates about life and work and families.

Late nights have been happening all week around this pit, but tonight is cool, and the Sangria Robin and Max mixed up is keeping you chilled.

"Hey, honey. You finally quit or do you want to join us over here?" Steve calls over to you, beckoning to the group of smokers over on the bench seat to the left of the fire.

"Every time I try… someone like you offers me a smoke and here I am again." You shrug as you lean over to snag the pack of cigarettes from Steve's outstretched hand before taking a seat. You slide out a slim cigarette and pull the lighter from it's spot in the back, lighting up and passing it back, kicking your feet out on the coffee table in front.

"Someone like Steve, what's that supposed to mean? You hurling insults again?" Johnathan teases.

"No, no. Byers, shut the fuck up. Lemme enjoy this sweet nicotine with my friends in peace, okay?" You roll your eyes, not actually knowing what you meant either, before shooting a look at Max sitting with the group. "Since when did you sit on the smokers bench? Huh?"

"Don't start with me mom. You've tried to quit four times a year for the past 10 years, so I don't even wanna hear it from you." The redhead sasses back.

Such a beautiful, self assured young women she's grown into, despite having such poor eyesight from…everything that happened…you have always had a soft spot for Max, and she for you. The glasses she wears are thick, despite years of corrective surgeries, but they don't take an ounce away from how lovely she's grown to be.

"Yeah yeah, just shut up and enjoy it. I bet Lucas hates it. Doesn't he? Goodie two shoes." You quip back and Max giggles in agreement, both of you taking a long drag as a follow up.

"You two man-eaters are trouble." Steve jabs.

"Excuse me, man-eaters? The one who has been dating the same guy since middle school and me, who goes on what, maybe 4 dates all year? Yeah total man-eaters, Steve."

After finishing your smokes, you all rejoin the group, playing dollar games of cards and dice, laughing the night away at bad luck and bad jokes. El has been banished to watching over participating and when Eddie's wife asks why, the mutters and mumbling of a wide variety of excuses poured out.

"It's uh - against her religion!" straight from Dustin's mouth won out, mostly because it was the loudest. So now you're all pretending El is Muslim, and that's definitely not going to last the rest of the week.

It's nearing two am as you pad up the stairs, pockets 10 dollars deeper, sand still clinging to your feet just barely and Steve's button up on your shoulders from when he passed it to you to quell your chill. Just like every other night of the trip, you sleep like a baby, tucked in a soft mattress with softer sheets and the blanket of a decent buzz still coursing through your bloodstream.

The next day is the last on the shore and after a late start and breakfast cooked up by Nancy and Johnathan to sop up the hangovers the day goes on much like the rest before it. Relaxing in beach chairs and blankets, music softly humming from a boom box in the shade of the umbrella, balls being tossed in a friendly game of touch football in the loose sand by the dunes.

The tide was rough today and swept you and Eddie's girl away on your chairs once before you slipped your books back in your beach bag and decided if you can't beat it, join it. Frolicking in the waves together, the rest of the group is shortly behind you joining in.

It's not five minutes until Eddie is tackling his wife into the crashing waves, rolling her dramatically in the lapping waves and sand. Max and El are jumping through crashing waves, hand in hand trying to make it past the crest and to where it is calm. Some of the boys are sitting in the sand watching and enjoying the cool breeze you catch when you're closer to the sea.

You, well, you were enjoying yourself wholeheartedly. That is until you're making your way back to shore and a huge wave creeps up behind you and slams you to the ground. Water currents tossing you around a bit like a ragdoll, it's a moment before strong arms pull you up and out, wiping your hair out of your face and brushing the wet globs of sand off you as you regroup. It's Steve who's got you and brings you back to shore, where you flop down on the sand together and burst out in laughter after you're both sure that you're alright, making it even harder to catch your breath.

The day at the beach was way more sandy than usual because of it all, sitting in the sand, being thrown around by gritty waves and soupy sand finding it's way intermingling with your bathing suit. You just can't wait till the end of the day to shower and hose off, so you dip away to hop in the rinse shower along the side of the property. Door swung shut, you run the water cold so it's as refreshing as it is a welcome rinse to your body where the sand is sticking and scratches.

Hair slicked back by the cool droplets, you're realizing quickly that a simple rinse won't rid your swimsuit of all of the caked in sand. Maneuvering your emerald green one piece to shake free the grit of the ocean, you're making progress as you drop your wide set straps off your shoulders and start working out the sand from your upper half.

It's just then that Steve must have had the same idea, and he's traipsing through the door of the shower himself, only to find you, strap down, left breast fully exposed, tan lines of your right crisp and leaving nothing to the imagination the way the suit is bunching down, and your hands coaxing the water over them from the low pressure showerhead to work off the sand.

"Holy fuck!" You both yell at the same time.

Yours an exclamation. A "Holy FUCK!" A barked out reaction to the surprise. The admonishment of your friend who doesn't seem to pay a goddamn mind to anything going on around him or he would have heard the shower tap on and running when he approached.

But his… Well, his was a statement. A "Holy. Fuck." Drawn out. A deep and gravely comment made to acknowledge the surprise he's found. More of an interest than an intrusion.

So when you reached to cover yourself and hide from embarrassment as a knee jerk reaction, he didn't make quite as quick a move to leave you be. He lingered, just enough for you to notice and under his breath whispered out again "Holy fuck."

Adequately covered, or at least enough that you can feel functional at this point, you look at him to quip "Are you just gonna stare or what?" And you expect him to snap out of his titty haze and leave you be to shake out the rest of your sand trap, but he doesn't.

Instead he asks, "Well, is that an invitation?"

Your eyes narrow at him, and he shrugs in reaction. "You can't be serious, Steve. Get outta here."

"I save you, and this is the thanks I get?" He teases, and you can't help but see how his eyes, blown out and black, don't move from your body when he says it.

"Steve." You say, quietly.

"Yeah?"

"I can thank you later." comes out just above a whisper.

"I think I'd rather you thanked me now."

When you don't argue back, or say anything for that matter, he takes that as enough of an answer as he needs. He knows you, and he knows that you have no problem telling someone to take a hike, so if you're not yelling at him like he's a small boy who got his hand caught in the cookie jar, he knows you're inviting him to take a bite.

So he's inside the shower quicker than your mind can even catch up to what's happening. He's crowding your space and reaching backwards to do the one thing you forgot to do yourself, hook the damn lock. You're pretty sure this man hasn't moved his eyes from you since the moment the door opened and at this point, you're meeting his gaze.

A sweeping hand, under your ear and landing on the nape of your neck is what shakes you out of your daze and before you know it his lips are on yours. It's a bruising thing, the way he presses them into yours, pulling you closer still by where his hand is cupping your head with his broad hand. You come up for air just a second before he backs off and you find yourself, open mouthed and smiling into his lips, still pressing into you. "Fuck. Honey. I- you okay? With this? I don't wanna… "

"I know I tell you this all the time, but this is different. Steve, you fuckin talk too much. Shut. Up." You say, emphasizing your words with two little tugs to his own hair where your hands have snaked around, too.

And he takes this welcome advance as an opportunity to wrap his other hand around you, up and under your arm, resting at the center of your back. Pressing together, you're so close. Impossibly so, and every little tick of the hip or twitch of the lips can be felt by the other instantaneously. He's testing you out but getting bolder by the second when he experimentally rolls his hips just a bit before coaxing your legs a bit wider to slot his knee in between. You gasp out at the feeling of him against you and involuntarily find yourself rolling your cunt against his thigh.

"Ah-oh fuck. Shit. Steve." You squeak out, as you look down to see that he's tucked up his swim shorts high enough that your grinding on his exposed thigh. Bristly hair on his legs commingling with the scratch of the sand and sea salt on your own thighs.

"C'mon, honey. You came in here to get clean. Me too. Lemme help you, yeah? '

Nodding your permission, he gently slips his fingers under the still loose straps of your suit, coaxing them down further, fingers ghosting over your arms as he works them down.

You've been doing this trip for years, and you swear the last thing you ever thought would happen was having Steve fucking Harrington peeling off your wet swimsuit in the shower. "You sandy all over, huh? Me too. Gotta rinse you off." he says, as he's reaching up for the shower head, detaching it from its base and bringing it down in between the two of your chests. Holding it there for a moment, he seems to consider this whole thing for the first time. "You-your good, right? I mean, I trust you. Do you trust me? "

"Yeah Steve, I do." You say, pressing your forehead to his and blinking away droplets gathering on your eyelashes.

He pulls the rest of your swimsuit away from where it's suctioned on your tummy and works it down your body, dropping heavy and wet on the shower floor. Once it's out of his way, he's back on your lips, sucking in your bottom lip just as you feel the cool water hitting your clit. Steve moves the shower head gently but purposely around your whole cunt, paying attention to your sensitive bud between passes through your folds. "Gotta get you cleaned up, huh? Need you clean for me. For what I'm gonna do next." He teases and you moan at his words.

Not exactly sure what he has planned just yet, you let him keep working your pussy clean and with every second of the pulsing jets of water hitting your clit rhythmically. "Yeah, baby I think you're all set." He states, replacing the shower head where it belongs and reaching his free hand down to rub through your folds, checking to be sure you're comfortable and free of that pesky sand.

When he's met with yet another whimper he's immediately dropping to his knees on the wet planks of the shower floor "Can I please, please taste you. Please."

"I didn't take you as one to beg, Harrington." You whisper out the tease.

"I will for this - for you. God, would you just answer me?"

You look down at him and nod but he wants your words instead, commanding you to speak up. And so you do, you gasp out confirmation just as his lips latch on to your already sensitive clit. He suckles there a little bit, before moving to make his tongue wide and flat coaxing noises from you that he doesn't want to forget the sound of.

He throws your thigh over his shoulder, giving him deeper, more angled access to your cunt, working you, moving it in and left to right. You cry out as his nose nudges at your clit while he slips a finger in up to his second knuckle and the cry turns silent as he keeps up his ministrations. Droplets of water are tickling down your chest and stomach, soaking his hair and face where he stays tucked in between your thighs. He shakes his head back and forth tapping at your clit with his movement and making you see stars.

Adding in another finger, he keeps lapping at your pussy, taking breaks to nip at the place where your thighs meet your sex and back again. He licks off a trail of water along the seam of your leg before making his way back to your center. Scissoring his fingers, he groans right into you and the vibration of it all drives you wild. "God, you fuckin taste like heaven. So good." And he dives back in, running his wide tongue along your entrance, drawing it front and upward toward your clit.

This time he pauses and presses his tongue up into the base of your clit, holding it there just as he presses both long fingers up and into your spongy spot, freeing the most wanton sound yet from deep within your throat. It spurs him on to keep going, pulsing that tongue and stroking that spot within. You're tensing and shaking under his strong grip and soft tongue, leg still hiked high over him, water cascading around the both of you. You're tumbling over the edge quickly after that.

In a bit of a daze and with wobbly knees, you swing your leg back down off his shoulder and bring him up towards you by his ears, wanting to taste yourself on his tongue in ways you never have before, and he looks beautiful like that. Eyes wide and wanton, hair dripping wet down his hair spattered chest, jaw slack in his own lust and pleasure, lips a deep pink and swollen from working you up down there. You bring him up fully to meet your lips and groan into his mouth, your taste heady and salty and beachy.

"I think you're clean" he laughs out as he pulls back just slightly and you can't help but bark out a laugh back. He takes the opportunity to latch on to your neck and bites at the skin under your ear.

In that moment you decide you're not done with him.

Tugging at the ties of his swim trunks, Steve pulls back to look at you. "N-no, we don't have to."

You hear his words but you also feel the hardness underneath those trunks, "Steve, it's - it's no big deal. You started this. Let me… let's finish, yeah?" You eye him teasingly, eyebrows raised, "Something tells me you want to."

"You're a menace, you know that right? Always have been."

"Yeah, but you're into it, apparently." you stand on your tippy toes to whisper in his ear.

"Fuck. Fuck. Yeah." He gets out as you lick the water droplets up "Seeing you here every year. Highlight of my trip. Swear to God."

And as his soaked trunks hit the floor, the pair of you are both fully exposed standing under the running water together. Running your hand along his chest, playing with the tufts of hair there, you hook your finger though the thin chain hanging from his neck and pull him closer. "Steve." You whisper into his mouth.

"Yeah, whaddya need, honey?"

"You. God just, please fuck me. Okay?"

Clutching you close by the waist, he hikes your leg up and around his hip, reaching down along your ass to rub at your pussy from behind, working you up again. Almost teasing. The rock hard length of him is pressed up between your two tummies, begging to be paid attention to, so you break your bodies apart for just a second to angle him down, slipping if wetly between your lower lips - a mix of water and your hot dripping slick letting him slip through your folds.

A whimper slips out of your lips as his head catches your clit and he takes the opportunity to press into you, sounds something like a growl falling from his own lips at the feeling. Your mind is going blank, but the one thing you're sure of is that Steve Harrington's dick is huge. "Ohmigod, you're, bi- oh" you moan as he adds another few inches, moving slowly for you. "Fuck, you're huge. Jesus, Steve."

"Yeah? Biggest you ever had? God, tell me it's the biggest you've ever took."

"Shit" you hiss, as he bottoms out inside you, yelping out as you both finally meet at the base. "Yeah, shit. No one's ever been that fuckin deep, Steve. Holy shit."

"Fuck, yeah. I'm gonna move now, okay? You're good, right?" And you nod, enthusiastically. Almost too enthusiastically.

You've known Steve almost your whole life. You've played on playground swing sets growing up, rolled your eyes at his antics at your friends' parties in high school, cheered him on at basketball games and worked alongside him as lifeguards at the country club pool. You give him shit, he gives it back to you. You share comfortable silences and close friends. He's had your back in the face of monsters and raging fires… But right now, all that's on your mind is how he's pounding into your pussy in this shower and why this has never ever happened before in all these years. Because Jesus Christ, it's feeling euphoric.

The slapping of skin echoes loudly in the wooden and metal enclosure of the shower, bodies slick with water , hands gliding along your back and along your ass, keeping that knee hiked high for him, yours clutching the front of his shoulders and digging crescent moons into his skin. He's making noises, has he thrusts up into you at a bruising pace, hitting your cervix and making you cry out…but he's holding back all the same and all you want is him to let go a little more.

"Fuck, wait. Holy shit. Lemme just… " you drop your leg down and hear his small whine as he slips out of you, but you're quick to flip your body around, leaning forward and bracing yourself on the beams of the wooden door frame, shaking your ass at him in an invitation to get close to you again. "Wait. Wait… " you gasp out as you feel his tip nudge against your entrance from behind.

"What's wrong? Are you .. are you okay? I can stop." He gets out through heaving breaths.

"No. I'm good… but if you wanna finish me off, you gotta do one thing for me." Looking over your shoulder, giving him a playful but serious look.

"What'dya need. Honey. Anything. What do you want?" He holds his cock, pulsing and screaming to be let back inside your warm and velvety walls, dots of precome rinsed off by the droplets of water as fast as they emerge.

"Don't hold back. Just… .let me hear you. I wanna hear you. Talk to me. Don't shut up. And fuck - fuck me harder" you hiccup out.

"Yeah, yeah okay. I'll … I'll - fuck" he pushes in fully in one slide, no resistance from you in the least. "You wanna hear how good you make me feel huh? Always so cocky. Jesus."

His fingers are pressing into the tops of your thighs, purple mottled marks already blooming there under his fingertips as he pulls you backwards, spearing you on his cock, meeting him thrust for thrust. His other hand is wrapped around your waist, reaching for the soft of your belly, snaking up your chest until he finds your tits, nipples peaked with the chill of the air now that you're not directly under the stream of water. He runs his thumb along your nipples, giving them a playful flick back and forth before massaging them and pulling you up to meet him, back to chest.

In this position, you can drop yourself down as you meet his upward thrusts, bouncing on his cock and you feel his tip nudging a particular spot inside you that makes your walls constrict. "Oh honey, yeah? That's it. That's the spot isn't it?" And you can tell that has Steve's mind going off the deep end, making good on his promises to let you hear him, he's babbling, water splashing and raining down on you both, his grunts getting louder, and your name slipping off his lips in a whisper, like it belongs there.

Reaching back and around his neck, you turn so that you can see him and tilt his down to meet your gaze. Mouths both open, panting into one another, lips touching but never connecting because you can't quite sync up with the way you're both grinding on each other. "Jesus Christ, hnng fuck, I'm gonna… honey. Where do you want me? C'mon. Tell me."

You hear his sharp intake of a breath and feel his lips latch on to your throat, leaving sloppy kisses and sucking a bruise into it that you know you'll have to explain to your friends later. "Nnn-no. No. Not yet. I told you, lemme hear you. You're holding back I can tell."

"Oh-okay yeah. Gimme a sec. " He breathes through his nose taking in the scent of whatever vanilla soap you were using before he barreled in, maybe a little coconut still left over from your sunscreen, too. He exhales as his hand drifts down your front, settling over your mound and expertly finding your clit once again. He's rubbing figure eights, before sliding it between his two fingers, giving it pressure and pull from the sides as he continues to thrust into you from behind, bouncing you with very little effort because of how wet and slick you are from the shower.

"You're a fuckin' piece of work, you know that. Shit - taking me like this… fuck. " He growls out as he bends you forward fully now, holding you up by your chest as he rams into you. Leaning over just enough to get close to your ear he whispers in "Ya gonna let me come now? Fuck - ya gonna let me put it on your back? Huh? Your tits? Where do you wanna have it, honey?" He hisses as you grind your hips backwards and clench down hard on his shaft, squeezing on him and making his thrusts slow down, become more meticulous, more purposeful.

You're gasping in air and squeaking out noises of all kinds in time with his thrusts, telling him just how good he's making you feel between breaths. Just how deep he is hitting you. Just how much you wanna hear him when he comes. He's huffing out breaths and promising you things like next time as he's incoherently babbling praises at you as you ride back on his dick.

"You like when I talk about coming for you? You wanna have it, yeah?"

"Y-yeah I wanna. Inside. Do it inside, fuck!" You shout out, water from the showerhead beating on your back as his thrusts are jolting you forward where you're braced against the door. The janky little rusted metal latch holding on for dear life as he continues his pace, chasing his high and praying to God you let go with him.

He's feeling bold now that his brain is only chasing your orgasms. He groans the loudest moan you've heard from him this whole time as you feel him tense behind you, keeping up his movements but, just barely. His hips are stuttering and his hand falls down on your ass in a loud smack. "Ohhh shit. Honey. Yeah. That's what I'm talking about."

Your walls give him one last squeeze and you grip him tight, legs shaking under you as your orgasms rushes over your whole body. He has to hold you up as it rolls through your body, flashes going off behind your eyes as you cry out with pleasure. The pain from the smack to your ass being washed away with the cool of the water trickling over you.

It takes him only three firm thrusts more to fill you up, stuttering sounds falling from his lips. Incoherent blabbers and praises and gasps of your name spurting out along with his come.

You're both absolutely breathless, heaving chests and deep sighs filling the air while still connected to one another. Steve pulls you up slowly as he slips out of you, and spins you around. Still cradling your body and wrapping you into him, he pulls you both under the water to rinse off and come back down from wherever you both are floating off to right now. As you stand there swaying under the cascade, he brings his lips to your temple with a kiss as he mutters "I did mean it. I love seeing you here every year."

You hum along with him, because you do love seeing him too. You just never thought about it like this before. And now that you have, you're pretty sure it's the only way you can from here on out.

"We should probably get back down to the beach. I'm sure at least one of those nosey dipshits have noticed were both missing by now." Steve says against your skin.

"Yeah, yeah, you're right. But you are the one explaining these marks you left on me. I'm not saying a peep."

"Aw, c'mon sweetheart. You had a lot to say when I was in-"

"Stop that right now. If you wanna even think about doing this again, you're gonna stop right now." You roll your eyes at him while wrapping yourself with a towel and unlatching the door. As you back out and start up towards the house to grab a new swimsuit, he sees the grin on your face.

"Yeah, okay honey. Shutting my mouth now...so I'll definitely see ya later, then." He says with a wink, just as the door shuts and your left naked, wrapped up in Steve Harrington's towel with all your friends gathered round the grill out back making lunch watching you as you make your way around the path.

Eddie snarls a wide grin at you as he brings both thumbs up, his wife slapping his chest when she notices. "Hey Nance!" He yells out. "I think Harrington's got himself a new roommate for next trip!"

#joe keery #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington imagine #Spotify

[alt-vera]

— text me, texas ⁀➷

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joel miller worries that the girl he’s been seeing is holding out on him on purpose. she definitely isn’t.

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♡ | joel miller | 1.5k | ❛ text me texas - chris young ❜

warnings: pre!outbreak joel miller. outdoor oral (m!receiving). praise. fond nicknames being used. deep throating. age gap. mdni.

❝ it’s breaking my heart and i’m starting to get the message… c’mon and text me, texas ❞

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JOEL MILLER COULDN’T KEEP HIS EYES OFF OF HIS PHONE.

　Whether he was working, or making breakfast for Sarah, his flip phone was always in his peripheral vision. He didn’t even know if it was intentional anymore.

　It’d been a week since he heard from you. A week since the two of you had gone on a nearly disastrous date. A week since he’d gotten a text from you reading, “Talk 2 U L8er, cowboy”

　Texas and Cowboy. You were the one who started the nicknames, jokingly calling him cowboy when he’d come into the ER for some stitches he’d earned during work. Joel knew he shouldn’t be hitting on the resident more than a decade younger than him patching him up, but he loved the way the corners of your eyes crinkled as he cracked a ludic joke, and the way the tip of your tongue peeked out of the corner of your mouth as you honed in on your work.

　This lead to him asking for your number as you discharged him, and you saying yes for a reason Joel couldn’t figure out. Of course, your residency schedule wouldn’t allow for a date right away, something that wouldn’t happen for another two weeks after your fateful meeting, but it did allow for an abundance of phone calls between the two of you.

　Something that had become so routine for Joel that, with their current absence, had caused him a week of fitful, sleepless nights. Missing his texas that wasn’t really from Texas.

　Even now, as he and Tommy shot the shit sitting on the back of Joel’s shoddy wooden porch, beers in hand and cicadas buzzing a backtrack for their conversation, he couldn’t help but steal glances at the folded black device sitting on the table between them.

　“Maybe she’d finally come to her senses,” Tommy suggested with a shit-eating grin as he took a sip from the glass bottle in his hands. “Realized she could do better than a dirty ol’ contractor.”

　“Don’t talk as if your shit don’t stink,” Joel replied gruffly, calloused hands picking at the peeling label of his beer. “You’re in the exact same boat as i am. How is Ashley, by the way?”

　“Fuckin’ a lawyer,” Tommy replied with a roll of his eyes, a much more forceful sip being taken now. “Hey, maybe that’s why she hasn’t called you. She’s fuckin’ her doctor-supervisor whatever it’s called.”

　“Or maybe she’s been too busy patchin’ up dumbasses like yourself.”

　Your voice cut through the summer air, stunning the two men as they turned around to look at you. You leant against the sliding glass door, tank top wrinkled from being in your locker all day and jean shorts hanging low around your hips. Your hair was wild from being thrown up all day, shining in the setting sun as a six pack hung loosely in your hand.

　“Texas,” Joel said weakly, stunned to see you there.

　“Cowboy, Ranger,” You greeted respectively, smiling as you moved to stand in front of the two as you put the pack on the table. “Glad to know you two still think about me when i’m not around.”

　“I’ll take that as my cue to leave,” Tommy mumbled, face ruddy from being caught shit-talking. He placed his empty bottle on the table, fishing out a new one from the pack you brought. “I’ll be drinking this one at home, Doc. Thank ya.”

　You gave him a two-fingered salute as he stalked off, taking his chair and popping the cap off your beer. Joel’s mouth hung agape before he snapped to his senses, hand running over his stubbly jaw.

　“Tommy, y’know, he was just bullshittin’,” Joel mumbled, eyes trained on you, looking for any sort of indication that you were pissed. “Y’know I don’t think you’d do something like that.”

　You laughed heartily, which put Joel somewhat at ease. He melted into his chair just a bit, taking a quick swig.

　“I know, cowboy,” You teased the nickname. Your shorts rode up a bit as you shifted, and Joel fought himself not to stare. “My attending’s been up my ass this week, sticking me in the ER til i ran out of ice packs and stitchin’ thread. That’s why i’ve been so M.I.A.”

　Joel ignored your addressing of your silence, instead quirking his lips up into a teasing grin. “Meet any patients as charming as i was?”

　“Nope,” You replied, taking a swig of your own. “No one can beat the one and only Joel Miller.”

　Joel angled his body more towards yours, “Is that why you took it out of your busy schedule to come see me?”

　“Actually,” You said, wrist twirling as you stretched your soreness, “I have tomorrow off, so i thought i’d pay my dear cowboy a visit, seeing as i left him in radio silence for the past week.”

　“Yeah, darlin’, you can’t do that to an ol’ man like me,” Joel sighed, tracing the wood of his chair. He was never good at being vulnerable. “Made me think you were off, i dunno…”

　You picked up where he trailed off. “Fucking my doctor-supervisor whatever?”

　Joel shook his head, crows feet prominent as he squinted. “No, just that maybe… there was someone else.”

　“If you ever can’t call,” He continued, “You can always text me. Even though i don’t know how to text back, you can always… text me, texas.”

　“Well maybe I can make it up to you…”

　A sly smile danced on your lips as you sank from your chair and onto the balmy wood of the porch, crawling between Joel’s already spread legs. Your fingers traced the pattern on his bet buckle, doe eyes moving to stare up at him. “Sarah’s sleeping over at a friend’s house, right?”

　“Yes,” Joel’s voice came out as a broken sigh. His fingers came up to trace your jawline, rough pads leaving tingles on your smooth skin. “Y’know you don’t have to make it up to me, texas.”

　Your head cocked. “But i want to.”

　Those four simple words made Joel practically fall apart at the seams.

　You felt him relax into his chair, which you took as a signal to continue. You delicately palmed him through his tightening jeans, a groan of satisfaction leaving his lips as you did so. More confident in your actions now that you knew he was enjoying himself, you unbuckled his belt and jeans, pressing kisses to his clothed member.

　Joel’s fingers danced through your hair, pulling it into a makeshift ponytail as you pulled down his boxers, cock springing up against his dark tee to meet the gentle summer breeze. You spit into your hand, stroking him before smoothly taking him into your mouth.

　Joel could stare at you all day, Texas sunset painting your skin with warm hues, your cheeks hallowed as you took him the best you could, hand stroking what you couldn’t. It took everything in him not to bust the moment you got on your knees in front of him.

　“That’s it, darlin’,” He cooed, thumb absentmindedly stroking your cheek as you took him deeper, throat bobbing against him as you tried not to choke. “Just like that.”

　You pulled away for a breath, and he leant down and kissed you. Your palm still stroking the head of his cock as his tongue swirled with yours. He could taste himself on your tongue, the tang of precum mixed with beer.

　You pulled out from the kiss, smiling as you turned your full attention back to his cock, your tongue sticking out of the corner of your mouth as you focused on making him cum, just as it did when you did his sutures.

　Your muscle tickled his slit as you took him once again in your mouth, wrapping around him as you continued to go down. He groaned, large hand putting gentle pressure on the back of your skull as he encouraged you to take him in farther.

　“You can do it, baby. You can take it all.”

　His encouragement spurred you further, nose coming to meet the wiry hairs at his base as he fully went down your throat. You sputtered around him, but he held you in place, hips bucking up into your mouth.

　“Fuck, darlin’, i’m cumming.”

　His warning came out broken as he moaned, hot seed travelling down your throat and leaking out the side of your mouth. You pulled off once he was milked, using your thumb to collect the fluid that escaped, licking it clean.

　You tucked him back into his boxers and laid your cheek on his jean covered thigh, smiling up at him with a lopsided grin as he fondly played with your hair, tucking it behind your ears and massaging your scalp.

　Joel couldn’t stop himself from grinning back, lips curling as he playfully rolled his eyes. “That was one hell of an apology, texas.”

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction #joel tlou #tlou fanfiction #smut #joel miller fic #joel miller imagine #joel miller self insert #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you

[simplyhughes]

If you’re taking requests, can I get a Hughes brother (I don’t care which one) childhood friend to lovers fluff?

Lake House

The summer when y/n and Luke have given into their feelings (*^ω^*)

WC: 1743

Anon thank you so much for this request! It was a lot of fun!!!

Pairing: LH43 x Reader

Warnings: None (?) just fluffy fluff. There may be grammatical errors, my apologies!!

Stars decorated the sky, painting patterns across the earth. Crickets chirped softly while teasing banter and laughter mingled with the gentle melodies of the top hits radio, enveloping the outdoor patio of the Hughes’ lake house. You and your family had made their way to Michigan every summer, staying with the friends you call family. Your mother and Mrs. Hughes, who insists you call her Ellen, shared a college dorm, and the rest is history.

The two families gathered around a lit fire sharing stories from throughout the year, making up for the time spent apart. You stepped out onto the porch after using the restroom to see that all the folding chairs and loveseats had been filled. You gave a tug to your sweatshirt sleeve, scanning the seating situation to decide your next move. The youngest of the Hughes brothers, Luke, glanced your way, initiating eye contact.

Being the same age as Luke created a unique bond between you, distinct from your relationships with his two older brothers. When Quinn and Jack would sneak out to meet with some girls by the dock, it would be you and Luke in your makeshift fort binging movies. Or when everyone would pile onto the boat to go wake surfing, Luke would stay behind cause he knows you get seasick. It was the stuff like that growing up that made you two so close. Your mothers would gush behind your backs, betting on your future together on who would confess first. But you two were young and oblivious, just living in the moment, cherishing all the time you could be together before summer came to an end.

As your eyes met Luke's, his demeanor changed; his eyes softened but his body tensed. He raised his hand, tapping his leg, signaling you to come and sit with him. For some reason, you were slightly taken aback. It is not like you haven't shared a seat before… you guys used to have sleepovers and share a bed. But it may be the fact that you both are all grown up and that Luke got a whole hell of a lot more handsome. You mouthed “Are you sure?” over to the boy, and he just replied with a nod. The conversations around you continued as you walked across the wooden patio.

"Hey..." you began, glancing down at Luke. His gaze rose to meet yours, and a grin spread across his face as he wrapped one of his large hands around your waist, almost pulling you onto his lap. You followed his lead and took a seat. His arm then encircled your waist completely, and he rested his head on your shoulder. Your body initially tensed at the sudden display of affection, but soon you relaxed against his chest as the two of you eased into a casual conversation.

Luke's older brothers didn't miss his bold actions. Quinn nudged Jack in the side and discreetly pointed in your direction. Jack stifled a laugh followed by a playful jab to the gut by his older brother. “Who knew Lukey had game?” Jack joked with a stupid smirk. Quinn merely shrugged, signaling Jack to halt his teasing before you and Luke caught on.

Throughout the rest of the summer, Luke's gestures did not simmer down. Anyone who didn't know the pair would think they were a couple. Whenever you were together, one of you was always hanging on to the other, like a support beam. If one of you headed to get food, the other promptly followed suit. And if one of you emerged from the lake sopping wet, the other immediately wrapped them in a warm towel. Luke's actions weren't entirely surprising to you. Longing touches, tight embraces, the gentle tucking of hair behind your ear—all felt like natural extensions of your friendship. But both your mothers saw. They saw the subtle dance of affection that whispered of deeper feelings. It was in the lingering gazes, the softness of their voices when speaking to each other, and the way their laughter seemed to harmonize effortlessly. Luke's brothers could see it. They could see the unspoken attraction between you, clear as day. Deep down you knew it, Luke too. Yet both of you could not rattle the idea that the other didn't reciprocate.

The boat ripped through the water under the control of Jack. “Jack ease up man! You're gonna kill us all,” Quinn yelped. Luke, who sat lazily right next to you, just chuckled at their antics. You looked a little pale in the face.

“Hey… You okay y/n?” Luke questioned, dragging his hand through his damp curls.

“Does he not know how to drive this thing?” You complained sluggishly.

“Awh is someone feeling a little seasick?” He teased. “Jack slow down you asshat or let Huggy take over!” He shouted over to the two boys who still happened to be fussing at the wheel.

“C’mere…” Luke slung his arm around your shoulder and you instinctively rested your head against his.

Jack shuffled out of the driver's seat annoyed. He shot a glance over in your and Luke's direction.

“Oh my god, can you guys just kiss and get this over with already… Jesus,” Jack mumbled, letting out his frustration. The color returned to your face as Quinn took over, but the pale was replaced with an embarrassing red. You hid your face in Luke's chest trying to ignore Jack's words.

“Fuck off, Jack,” Luke retorted. “You're such a dick.”

The sun had set and the boat pulled into the dock. The sky was all different hues of pinks, yellows, oranges, and reds. Jack had rushed off the boat to meet up with this ‘rocket’ he was talking to leaving you, Luke, and Quinn. “Don't worry Huggy we can clean this up,” Luke said, gesturing to the empty beer cans, towels, and sunscreen that littered the boat. “You sure?” Quinn hummed. You could tell he was tired; I guess it is hard work being the boat's captain. Luke nodded back at his eldest brother while you let out a groan. The boat bobbed as Quinn stepped off. You shuffled across the boat's floor, grabbing a trash bag. Luke tossed the empty cans into the bag that you held open. “Maybe you picked the wrong sport, Lukey,” you joked as he threw another can in, mimicking a basketball toss. Your teamwork was pretty effective, only taking 15 minutes to get the boat back in good shape. Luke hopped off the boat onto the dock. His hand extended to grab yours.

“M’lady,” He snorted, taking a bow, helping you off the boat.

You hit him with your hips. “Dork,” you rebutted.

As the colors of the sunset faded into the velvety embrace of the night sky, you and Luke found yourselves on the dock, your feet dangling over the edge. The only sounds were the gentle whispers of the wind through the trees that seemed to be as tall as skyscrapers, the crickets that chirped into the early hours of the morning, and the crashing of water as it rolled into the muddy lakeside shore.

Luke let out a soft sigh, his gaze fixed on you with a look that made your heart flutter. You tried to keep your composure, your eyes focused straight ahead. But you simply could not help yourself any longer.

"What are you looking at, Hughes?" you quipped, breaking the silence.

"You," he replied simply, his voice barely above a whisper.

You turned to face him, your breath catching in your throat as his hand gently brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His touch sent shivers down your spine, igniting a warmth deep within you.

"Me?" you echoed, unable to tear your gaze away from his.

"Only you," he murmured, inching closer until there was barely any space between you.

He took his hand, guiding a piece of your fallen hair behind your ear. His hand then stayed resting on your cheek. Placing your hand on top of his you spoke, "Luke…".

“Can I kiss you y/n?” he interrupted.

Your eyes dilated, still staring back at his. Your throat went dry, parched by the sudden rush of adrenaline, while your heart pounded against your ribcage, drowning out all other sounds. The only thing you could do was nod. He brought his face close an inch away from yours. His hot breath whispered against your cheek. Time stretched, suspended in a haze of anticipation before his lips finally met yours. His unoccupied hand quickly found a new place to reside, resting on your hip, pulling you in as close as possible. Your lips parted, both in search of air. That single kiss was not enough for Luke. He dove back in, pressing kisses to the side of your neck, trailing behind your ear, with his hair tickling your jaw. The new sensation made you gasp, locking your fingers into his hair. “Luke…” you groaned.

Eventually, the heat had worn down, leaving both parties in shock at the events that had just occurred.

“Y/n…” Luke started, “I have liked you- wait no…” he stopped himself. “I have loved you for the longest time. At the end of every summer, my stomach twists itself in a knot. I dread leaving the lake, I dread leaving summer behind, but I dread leaving you the most. I am not sure how I have been able to get myself through the long winters and the busy fall. It may be the lingering thought that I will eventually make my way back to you. You are my best friend, you always have been and you always will be. I don't wanna screw this up, and if you don't like me back we can pretend this never even happened…” he rambled.

“Luke.” You cut him off.

“Yeah?” He quickly replied, turning his eyes onto you.

“We literally just made out you idiot… I would hope I like you back.” His chest sank back in relief with an exhale. “I cannot picture my life without you.” You added with a more serious tone. “We have grown up together and I expect to grow old with you.” Luke didn't reply with words. He pulled you back into a deep kiss.

The sun had officially set, leaving a blanket of twinkling lights. The young couple spent the night together in the wake of new romantic revelations. This was the night where their friendship had blossomed into something more.

#jack hughes #luke hughes #quinn hughes #jack hughes x reader #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes 43 #hockey #nhl #new jersey devils #simplyhughes

[flowerxbunnie]

since im like i love w/ ur writing can u PLEASE do nate smut??

idk what but like please

-💋anon

Camping

Nathan Doe x Fem reader

Warnings: angst kinda, SMUTTTT

DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE NOT OKAY WITH SMUT OR ARE A MINOR

I’ve been friends with the triplets since I can remember. We’ve been on so many family trips in our time growing up together; beach vacations, skiing, boating. Never did I ever think I would agree to go camping with them.

But here we are in the mountains, setting up our tents and gear. It’s us four and Nate for three days, living out of tents and stuck with no cell service. It’s not exactly my idea of a fun time, but Matt loves the outdoors and Nick and Chris seemed super excited to get away for a while too.

“Pass me another stake, this one won’t go in the fucking ground!” Chris yells from across the jumbled up pile of fabric that we’re struggling to turn into a tent for him and Matt.

“This one is the exact same,” I laugh while grabbing another one out of the package and toss it his way. “But there ya go, have at it kid.”

He grabs it and replaces the one he had been trying to get in at first, this one going into the ground on his first attempt. He shoots me a teasing grin and sticks his tongue out like a little kid, earning a laugh from me in return.

“Maybe you should listen to the boys for once, Y/n,” Nate blurts out, my eyes narrowing in his direction. “Girls weren’t built for these tough woods.” He snickers and tosses a chip into the air before catching it in his mouth.

I turn my attention back to straightening out the fabric in front of me. “Maybe you should make yourself useful and put together your tent. How about that, Nate?” I shoot back without looking at him, my nerves getting more shot with each annoying thing he does. It’s been a fucking day already.

“It was a joke, damn. Someone’s panties are in a wad.” He laughs his smug laugh and I hear Nick quietly scold him.

He’s always been so immature. I deal with him because the boys love him, but if I had it my way I wouldn’t ever be in the same room as him. He just knows what buttons to press to piss me off and make me want to pull my hair out. He thinks it’s so funny to make jokes about me being a helpless, dumb girl, and that is far from the truth. Even if it’s just joke, why keep going if nobody else is laughing?

We spend what feels like hours getting the three tents set up, positioning them next to a little creek. The sound of the water is going to be incredibly nice once I finally get to wind down for bed. For now Matt is setting up a little fire in a pit so we can make some s’mores.

I walk to the back of the van and open the trunk, grabbing two of the fold up chairs we brought and start carrying them towards the fire pit. Nick sees me doing it alone and rushes to help, grabbing two more out of the trunk and trailing behind me.

“Thank you Nicky, there should be one more in the ba-” I cut myself off with a squeal, feeling fingers digging into my sides causing both of my chairs to crash onto the ground.

I whip around and Nate is behind me, a devious grin on his face and his hands up in defense.

“That didn’t even tickle, asshole. It hurt.” I spit at him, leaning down to pick the chairs back up.

“Not my fault you’re sensitive.” He laughs, retreating to the van to grab the other chair.

“I don’t know what his problem is, Y/n. I’m sorry. We can go somewhere fun just us once this trip is over to make up for it!” Nick apologizes, speeding up to walk beside me.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m still having fun with you three.” I smile, opening up the chairs and spacing them out beside the fire pit.

Matt finally gets the fire going and Chris gets back from his adventure of finding some nice sticks for roasting marshmallows. We claim our seats and sit around as the sun goes down, feasting on s’mores and listening to Chris ramble.

“No dude, I swear. I heard the footsteps behind me,” he says with wide eyes. “I was sprinting so fast to get back here.”

“There was not a fucking bear stalking you. We would have seen it.” Matt rolls his eyes, adding a piece of chocolate to his graham cracker.

“Not if it was stalking!” He takes a bite, marshmallow sticking to his cheek. “That’s like… the whole point of stalking,” he talks with his mouth full, “to be secretive.”

“Bro that would have been a cool story to be honest.” Nate chimes in, holding his marshmallow in the flames until it catches fire.

“Nate!” Nick says in a warning tone, his eyes widening as Nate pulls it out of the flames and starts whipping the stick around.

Nate stands up and starts doing a dance with the flaming marshmallow on top, carelessly lashing it back and forth. He runs in circles around our chairs, laughing as he holds it over my head tauntingly. Before I can even register what has happened, oozing hot marshmallow drops down straight onto my chest, a throbbing burn stinging my skin even through my t-shirt. I yelp and curse in pain and try brush it off with my fingers which proves to be no help, the stickiness makes it almost impossible.

“What the fuck bro?” Chris raises his voice at Nate, quickly standing up to help me brush the remnants away.

“I didn’t know it would drip..” he says while holding back a laugh, his hand coming up to cover his mouth.

Tears well in my eyes from the pain and I try to choke them back, pulling my neckline down to see a red welt already blistering up onto my skin. “Fuck you.” I direct at Nate, making eye contact with him as I stand up to head over to Matt’s backpack in his tent. It’s uncomfortably quiet, the only sound being the trickling of the water, the crackling fire and my feet stomping on the leaves.

I unzip the door and rummage through the backpack before finding the first aid kit, jumping when I fear the fabric rustling. Matt’s head pops in and he leans down so his head doesn’t hit the top of the opening. “You need some help?”

I nod and feel a hot tear fall down my cheek, brushing it away quickly as Matt digs through his kit for burn cream. I sit criss cross and he kneels down in front of me, sighing as he brushes my hair back and pulls my collar down. “He got you good, but it didn’t break the skin thankfully.” He swipes an alcohol wipe over it and cleans it up, using a swab to apply some cream. “All better?”

I nod and reach my arms out, sinking into his embrace. “Why does he hate me?” I speak quietly.

“Oh Y/n,” he laughs, “he doesn’t. He’s just immature. He doesn’t know when to stop.”

“Well it feels like he does. Haven’t even been through one night and he’s already getting on my last nerve.”

He pulls back and gives me a knowing look before standing up, holding his hand out and helping me to my feet. “I’ll talk to him. Just try to enjoy your time, okay? Don’t let him ruin your trip.”

I smile in appreciation of Matt and our friendship. I give him a nod and a peck on the cheek, jumping when Nate speaks up.

“The fuck?”

Matt and I snap our heads to him, his tall frame standing in the opening of the tent with a puzzled look on his face.

“What?” I snap, seething with anger. “Can’t even get five minutes away from you, huh?”

He raises an eyebrow and gives us a suggestive look.

“Nate, stop being fucking weird. Y/n is like my sister. Get your ass in here.” Matt demands, guiding me out of the tent and back to Nick and Chris, Nate bumping my shoulder as we cross paths.

The rest of the night is peaceful. Matt and Nate eventually came back to join us in our exchange of campfire stories, a grin across Matt’s face as he takes the seat next to me. We take turns talking about all things spooky, paranormal, conspiracy theories, you name it. When it circles around to Nate for his turn, he shakes his head and sits back in his seat. He remains quiet and standoffish for the rest of the night, engaging in conversation as little as he can.

It’s pitch black and the fire is dwindling down when Nick announces he’s going to head to bed, collecting the sticks and tossing them into the flames.

“Same here, Matt come with me so you don’t wake me up with that loud ass zipper later.” Chris ruffles Matt’s hair and gets pushed away playfully.

“I’ll be in there in a bit,” Nate looks at Nick. “I’ll keep a watch on the fire ‘til it goes out.”

Nick nods and retreats off to their tent, zipping it shut.

“Don’t let the bed bugs bite!” Chris yells as he sprints towards his tent, and Matt mouths ‘help me’ as he scoots in behind him.

The awkwardness in the air is thick and palpable, neither me or Nate uttering a word as the crickets chirp around us. He pokes and prods at the fire, sparks floating off into the air as he moves the remaining logs around. I watch, almost hypnotized by the embers and shake my head, snapping back to reality. As I look up I swear I catch his dark blue eyes looking into mine for a fraction of a second. I huff and stand up, brushing the crumbs off my shirt before I turn around to make my way to my tent.

I zip myself in and do the best skin routine I can do while camping, cleansing my face with wipes and applying my travel moisturizer and serums. I change into a tank top and sleep shorts, happy with the idea of being a little cold while I sleep.

I flip on my portable reading light and set it up beside my air mattress, grabbing a book to read to lull myself to sleep. The soft light is ambient and relaxing along with the steady trickling of the stream just behind my tent.

I read for a while, snug under my blanket and dozing off every couple minutes as my eyes trace across the pages. I hear rustling outside my tent, setting my book down as I listen closer. What if Chris was right and there is a bear stalking us from somewhere beyond the tree line? I jump and gasp as I hear tapping on my door, the fabric rippling and moving around.

“Knock knock…” a deep voice rings out just loud enough for me to hear.

The zipper starts moving around the arch of the entrance, falling down to reveal Nate’s figure standing outside.

“Can I come in?” He whispers.

“Uhh.. I’d rather you didn’t.” I groan and pick my book back up, trying to bring my focus back to the love story in front of me.

“Please? I’ll be quick.” He pleads, dipping his head farther in the tent.

I look up as the light catches on his face, and I can see the dip of his cheekbones, his jaw clenching lightly as he takes a deep breath.

“Fine. Make it snappy.” I concede, sitting up and drawing my legs to my chest instinctively, almost as an effort to protect myself.

I hear the zipper of the door being closed and feel the air mattress dip as he sits on the edge, a good distance still between us. He brings one leg up to rest on the bed and the other hangs down to the ground, nervously kicking back and forth. We sit for a minute without speaking, neither of us wanting to be the first to break the silence. He coughs and clears his throat, urging me to look his way.

“How’s the.. burn?” He asks as his eyes flick down to my chest and back up quickly.

“Really fucking painful.” I state matter of factly, exaggerating to try and make him feel bad.

He breathes out and closes his eyes, an apologetic look written across his face as he opens them again. “Look, Y/n, I’m sor-”

“You don’t have to do this.” I interrupt him, my tone full of annoyance. “I don’t want a half assed apology.”

“Let me talk.. please?” He asks calmly, pulling his other leg up onto the mattress.

I sigh and nod, playing with my fingers that are still interlocked around my legs.

“Y/n. I’m actually really fucking sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he looks down and shakes his head before looking back up, licking his lips. “I just d-don’t know how to..” he stammers, his fingers coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“Go on..” I huff, ready to dive back into my book and sleep this night away.

“Can I just see the burn?” He asks hesitantly, a shaking hand reaching up to toy with my fingers.

I swallow back a gasp as the heat of his hand radiates against mine, his soft fingers guiding mine to unlock. His eyes are filled with a softness, an innocence that I’ve never seen before. I release my grip and allow my knees to fall down from my chest, exposing the wound he left on me hours before. It’s nothing major, just a red welt filled with lingering heat. His shoulders slump as he scans over it, his eyes showing remorse as they meet mine again.

“It’s already a lot better.” I admit, regretting the harsh tone I had used earlier when I lied to him about it still being painful.

“Can I?” He asks softly, reaching a hand toward my chest.

I give him a hesitant nod as my cheeks burn, scared he’ll be able to feel my heart pounding in my chest. My blood burns hot as it courses through my body, a visceral reaction to the distance closing between us. His fingertips graze over it with a feather light touch, so soft it’s like he’s almost not touching me at all. He lingers for a moment, his eyes shutting as he shifts his position to be directly in front of me. His hand drops down, landing on my bare calf as his eyes flash up to mine again.

“I just don’t know how to act around you, Y/n.” He is barely audible as his hand squeezes my leg.

“W-what are you talking about, Nate?”

“I just..” his hand inches up to my knee. “I think I make a fool of myself to try and impress you.”

I shake my head, convinced this is just a weird dream that I’m having and I’ll wake up to the same annoying Nate that makes me want to claw at my skin. I can’t help but feel my stomach flip with the way he’s opening up to me.

“I’m serious. I haven’t been able to keep my eyes off you since we were in school together.” His fingers trail up my inner thigh, the rough pads against my skin causing a heat to rush between my thighs.

“Nathan… I-”

“Fuck.” He mumbles under his breath. “You can’t call me that, Y/n.”

“Why not?” I ask in a whisper, my better judgement taking over as I place my hand on top of his own, leading it higher up my thigh.

His breath hitches as he looks down and sees that he’s millimeters away from the hem of my shorts. “Makes me feel some type of way..” he trails off, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down in his throat as he gulps.

“What kind of way, Nathan?” I ask lowly, batting my eyes at him and feigning innocence as I scoot closer.

“Stop it. Don’t start something you can’t finish.” He warns, starting to draw his hand back.

I tighten my grip on his hand and move it higher, pushing the tips of his fingers under the hem and biting my lip. “Who said I don’t feel the same?”

It’s like a weight is lifted off his shoulders. He brings his free hand to my face and caresses it lightly, still a little hesitant but with a hungry look in his eyes. He moves his face closer to mine, hot breath fanning against me as his pink lips ghost over mine.

“Are you sure?” He asks seriously.

“I’m positive.” I answer, closing the distance and taking the opportunity to make the first move.

Our lips mesh together, working against each other slowly. His hand moves to my jaw, fingers resting against the nape of my neck as we kiss like it’s the only thing we know how to do. He pulls away and places a few quick pecks on my lips before diving back in, moving both hands to my hips. He pulls me closer and I take the hint, throwing a leg over him and straddling his lap, never disconnecting our lips. His big hands roam my body, squeezing and grabbing hungrily as he swipes his tongue over my bottom lip. I open my mouth and our tongues synchronize, exploring the parts we’ve both secretly longed for. The kiss is both passionate and filled with lust, low moans breathed into each other’s mouths.

He pulls back and scans my face, his pupils rapidly dilating as he drags his gaze down to my chest. My nipples have caught up with my arousal, becoming taut against the fabric of my tank top. He brings his mouth down and places a kiss on each one through my shirt, a whine escaping my lips at the sensation. He reaches up and places a tender kiss to the burn on my chest, careful not to be too rough.

His hands trail up my hips before moving up and pulling down on the neckline of my top, my breasts spilling out inches from his face.

“So perfect.” He whispers against my skin while placing kisses spanning across my chest.

My head falls back and I grip into his soft hair, pulling on it and earning a low groan. His tongue circles my left nipple before he latches onto it, sucking slowly as his blue eyes lock onto mine. I push his hair out of his forehead as he switches to the other nipple, flicking his tongue across it before sucking a little more harshly.

I can feel him growing beneath me, his erection pressing against my clothed core. I instinctively grind down against it, causing his lips to stall on my nipple and a low moan to escape his throat. He bucks up for more, his throbbing dick providing a delicious pressure against me. His hands leave my body and he pulls his shirt off, leaning back on his hands, propped up and staring at me intently. His defined torso is etched out in the light, a sheen of sweat over his skin despite the cool night air.

“Fuck.. just keep grinding… please.” He pleads, squirming his hips.

I do as I’m told, my hands reaching up to pull my own tank top over my head as I move back and forth on him. I reach down and run my fingers across his stomach, the rippling muscles tensing beneath my fingers as I circle my hips. His face contorts with pleasure, his chest rising and falling rapidly. I can’t help the little whimpers that fall past my lips, my core now dripping with need. The layers of clothing between us do nothing to stop the feeling of his rock hard erection against my clit.

“Nathan.. I need it.” I pant and start loosening the tie on his sweatpants.

“Stand up baby. Let me undress you.” He demands as he guides me to my feet and sits up on the edge of the mattress.

My stomach flutters at the new pet name and at the fact that his lips are now placing hot kisses across the tender fleshy skin. He inches lower, lips grazing against my waistband as he hooks his fingers into them. He looks up at me again with a questioning look, almost as if asking me to confirm I want this for a final time. I nod furiously and he slowly inches the shorts down until they pool around my ankles. He traces the fabric of my underwear lightly before pulling them down, my body now completely exposed in the soft light of my reading lamp. He removes his own pants and boxers in one motion, his dick springing up and a whine falling past his lips at the freeing feeling.

“Now get back on,” he says while resuming his propped up position, “I like seeing your tits in my face.”

The dirty words make my stomach flip. I climb back on top of him, my dripping pussy sliding up across his length, my core clenching in response. I repeat it a few times, gripping onto his shoulders as I slide back and forth across his cock feeling every vein running across its surface. He grips his base with one hand as I lift up, lining himself up with my entrance. I sink down, feeling my walls stretch around him as I take him inch by inch.

“So tight, fuck..” he groans, hips stuttering and resisting the urge to shove all the way into me.

“Y-you’re so big, Nathan.” I whimper, pain turning into pleasure as I begin to loosen up and sink completely down.

“Don’t flatter me, baby.” He smirks and brings a thumb to his mouth, licking it and bringing it down to rub my clit.

I moan out and immediately stop myself, worried about waking the boys who are just a couple thin fabric walls away from us. Nate shushes me and rubs back and forth tantalizingly slow, his pressure rough. I start to bounce up and down on him, gripping onto the arm that’s still propping himself up. The muscles are flexed and hard, and his tanned skin is clammy beneath my fingertips.

His finger leaves my clit and reaches up to pinch my nipple, rolling and tugging on it as I ride him. We’re both panting and holding back our sounds, swallowing them down before they have the chance to escape. His eyes are fully blown out as he bites onto his lip.

“N-Nathan please.. touch me again.” I whisper, sinking down to take all of him back inside and rolling my hips.

“You like when I play with your clit?” He asks with a smug grin before bringing his thumb back down, rubbing faster this time.

“U-uh.. mhm… fuck.” I can barely form words, the pleasure making my brain cloudy.

My thighs burn as I bounce up and down, feeling his swollen tip brush against my walls with every movement. He starts to buck his hips up along with my movements, pushing himself impossibly deep into my core. I taste iron in my mouth as I bite onto my bottom lip, desperate to keep my moans contained. A pressure is building in my lower stomach as he toys with me, his index finger inching its way to my clit to roll it between his thumb.

In the blink of an eye he’s on top of me, his chain dangling over my face. He hooks one of his arms around my thigh and pushes it up against my stomach, the other sprawled out to the side. His other arm props himself up above me, his veins lining his arms and straining underneath his skin.

He pushes into me and curses fall out of his mouth as he begins to pump in and out. His hips slap against my skin rhythmically, my breasts bouncing with each impact. Each thrust brings me closer to the edge as head brushes repeatedly against my g spot.

“I’m close, baby. F-fuck.. wanna cum in you so bad..” he groans, his head falling down into my neck.

I lean over and hover my lips by his ear. “Please, Nathan..” I almost beg, my pussy starting to clench around him already.

My pleas send him over the edge, his dick twitching as he shoots his load into me. He pushes all the way in as he paints my walls, and the sensation brings me to my own climax. My stomach clenches as I throb around him, his name falling out of my lips over and over. We moan out together as we ride through our releases, my hands clawing down his back as I arch up off the bed against him. He falls down on top of me, my breath hitching at the feeling of his dick sliding out, still so sensitive from my climax.

“Oh my god.” He pants out as he rolls over to lay down beside me.

My head is swimming and my entire body is pulsing. I look over and place a soft kiss against his lips, too tired to even think about talking right now.

We lay together for a while, drinking in the bliss and caressing each other with soft hands. He eventually gets up to rummage through my bags, finding a pack of baby wipes. He tenderly cleans me up before grabbing a new one and cleans himself off. We redress and he plops back down into the mattress.

“As much as I would love to sleep in here..” he starts, leaving the statement open ended.

“I know. It’s okay.” I smile and pull him closer, brushing the hair out of his eyes.

He melts against me and cuddles against my chest. Time feels slow as we listen to the babbling creek and the crickets chirping in the woods.

A different kind of chirping causes me to shoot my eyes open, panic flooding in as I see the light through the tent and Nate’s chest rising and falling underneath my blanket. I hit his chest and he jumps, his eyes flying open and the same panicked look written across his face.

“What are we gonna do?” I whisper, rubbing my hands across my face.

“Hey.” He grabs my hands, pulling them away from my face. “I’ll just sneak into my tent and go to sleep next to Nick like I was supposed to.”

I nod frantically and lay down, faking sleep as he presses a kiss against my hair and hurries to undo the zipper on the door.

“Fuck.” He mumbles.

“What, Nathan?” I sit up, scanning around to see what he’s so worried about.

To our surprise, all three boys sit around the fire pit with a flame already blazing, cups of hot chocolate in their hands as they smirk and laugh over at us.

“You guys have fun last night?”

tag list: @lustfulslxt @whotfisade @soursturniolo @recklesssturniolo @lxvlysworld @chrisolivia4l @kiarastromboli @mattnchrisworld @cupidsword @kvtie444 @xplrfear @knowingnothingnoel @karlybbx @chrisfavoritepepsi @mwah0mwah @starsturniolo

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #nate doe #nathan doe #nathan doe smut #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader

[houseofanticipation]

You've always been an outdoor person. You're a camper, a hiker, an explorer. You feel at home in this forest; miles upon miles of trees in every direction, the only hints of civilization a handful of campgrounds and the odd ranger station. Years of experience have made you comfortable here, in the cool, quiet air.

Maybe too comfortable.

It's late morning when you first notice someone behind you on the trail. You don't see them when you look back. You just their footsteps, the sound of cracking twigs and crunching leaves. You expect them to pass you, as you're taking a pretty leisurely pace, but the footsteps always seem to be about 20 feet behind you. You start to get annoyed. This person's thousand-pound feet are ruining your nice, quiet walk. You step to the side of the trail and wait the person to pass.

And so do they.

That makes you nervous. You start walking again, and they walk with you. You stop, they stop. You begin to think you might be in trouble. Careful to keep the noise at you front, you take the folded trail map out of your pocket and begin to scan it. There's a ranger station not far ahead; if you can just make it that far, you might be safe.

You break into a brisk walk, and your pursuer keeps pace. This trail was made intentionally with a lot bends in it, so each hiker or group of hikers could feel like the wilderness was their own, without running into many other people. It means your pursuer can stay relatively close to you without ever entering your line of sight. You're close now, you recognize the little footbridge over this creek, so you break into a run, skidding on mud and dried leaves as you make a mad dash for safety. The footsteps crash through the forest behind you, and you're too afraid to turn around but you're sure they're gaining on you. You see the ranger station up ahead, a little log cabin with a green door, and you practically fly up the front steps, through the unlocked door. You slam it shut behind you and throw the deadbolt, sliding down the door in a mess of exhaustion and nerves.

The ranger station consists of a single room, with a ladder up to a small loft space where the ranger sleeps. You were hoping to find help, but the ranger isn't here at the moment. That's okay. Just the locked door on its own makes you feel a lot better. You listen intently for any sound outside, but all you hear is birdsong, and wind through the trees.

Then someone is trying to turn the door handle. The sound makes you jump, but you try to stay brave. You're still safe. They can't get in.

You hear a man's voice on the other side of the door. "Hello?"

You summon your courage and call back. "Leave me alone! What do you want from me?"

The voice sounds surprised. "I...I don't want anything from you ma'am. It's just...well, you're kind of in my office." You get to your hands and knees and crawl to the front window, just peeking over the sill. Outside is a flustered looking man in a ranger uniform. Relief floods your body. You let him in.

"Thank god," he says. "I'm not supposed to leave the station unlocked, I thought at first some teenagers had gotten in here and...hey, what's wrong?" He's seen the look in your eyes, the way you're still panting, the state of your hair. You explain to him about the footsteps, the chase through the woods, how you hid here for safety. His eyes grow wider with your every word. "Shit, that's terrible. Drink some water, get yourself hydrated while I check around out there." He offers you his canteen. You begin to tell him you have your own water, but he waves you off. "No, no, I can't let you use your own rations. I've got extra water reserves here just for unprepared hikers, I won't run out. Please."

You take the canteen and drink, sitting on a hard folding chair while the ranger goes back outside. Now that you think about it, you're actually incredibly thirsty. You finish off the ranger's canteen, and feel a little bad about it, but he seemed insistent that you should have it.

You're exhausted. It had already been a long day of hiking, and then you went and spent the rest of your energy running through the forest. You were probably overreacting, you think as your eyelids begin to droop. Maybe it was just an illusion, your own footsteps somehow echoed back to you by the forest. In the warmth and safety of the ranger station, the fear you felt before seems almost silly.

Your limbs feel sluggish and disconnected. Your head seems to be full of rocks. Your eyelids fall closed, and you're out before you hit the floor.

You come to little by little, slowly becoming aware of several odd sensation at once. The first thing you notice is that you feel good. Incredible, actually. You're having trouble wrapping your head around why exactly—you're having trouble putting thoughts together, connecting raw sensation to ideas or meanings. But you like how you're feeling, you know that much.

There's more to it though, because you also hurt, which you don't like. There's something rough pressing up against your back, and your arms and legs are sore. You're cold, too, colder than you've been in a long time, and a cool wind stings your bare skin. Why is your skin bare?

You open your eyes. You're in a forest clearing, a place you recognize. It's a popular camping spot, secluded but not far from the trail. You're on a tree—tied to it, you realize, that's the rough thing on your back, and the reason you're so sore. Coils of rope around your wrists are pulling your arms up and behind you, like you're giving the tree a backwards hug. Something similar is happening with your legs, and a rope across your throat is keeping you from pointing your head down.

You are naked.

The ranger is there, leaning into you, and for a confused moment you think he's trying to untie you, but then the whole picture suddenly falls into place. He is raping you, slowly and indulgently, moaning openly as he slides cock up and down, in and out of your pussy. Fear jolts you awake, your fight-or-flight response taking control, but you you have no way to fight and now means of fleeing. You begin to scream, thrashing against your bonds, but they're solid and secure. You're not going anywhere.

"Oh good you're...oh!...awake," says the ranger, still inside you. "I have to tell you, I thought you looked cute when I decided to follow you, but I had no idea you'd be this...o...oh, fuck...this good. I think you've got the tightest little cunt I've ever fucked."

Just because that pleasurable feeling isn't wanted anymore doesn't mean it's going away. With every thrust of the ranger's cock, the feeling builds inside you, threatening to spill over. "Please," you whimper. You can't cum, not here, not to this. "Please stop, let me go."

The ranger grins and looks at you. He gives you an extra deep thrust and you moan in spite of yourself, your muscles contracting and your pussy tightening around him. "Why would I...oh, fuck that's good...why would I stop when you're clearly enjoying this just as much as I am?"

Tears stream down your face. You can't control it now. Waves of tension wash your body, each one making you seize tighter, arching your back, straining your bonds. As the final wave crashes over you the ranger gives one last moan and buries his face in your neck, his cum seeming to warm your shivering body from the inside. You go limp, wobbly, all the tension draining from your body with the cum that spills forth as he withdraws his cock.

The ranger buckles up his pants and leans over, hands on his knees, panting. "Fuck, girl. I can't just keep that cunt to myself. People need to know!" He goes behind you somewhere, and you can hear leaves rustle. When he comes back he holds a stake in his hand: a signpost, with a printed metal sign attached. He shows it to you:

Elk Trail Cum Dump

The park thanks you for your patronage. Feel free to use this receptacle as you see fit.

"I had this made up a few years back." Says the ranger as he hammers it into the ground in front of you. "We've had a handful of cum dumps, but I'll tell you what, you're definitely the best." He looks you up and down, then steps forward and sticks his middle and index fingers up inside you. You tighten reflexively, and he whistles. "Fuuuck me that's good! Alright, I'll probably be back tonight with some friends. New cum dump always attracts some attention. Stay tight, honey." He gives your cheek a little slap and walks away.

It hurts for a while. The bark against your skin. The ropes digging into you. Your shoulders, supporting your weight for so long. But after your sixth hour or so it all just fades into a general, dispassionate numbness.

People walk by sometimes. You hear them on the trail and call out for help. They come, usually but they don't help. A pair of young women laugh and take selfies with their fingers in your pussy. And old man rapes you breathlessly while is wife rolls her eyes and laughs good-naturedly. A middle aged woman with a big backpack says she's going to help you out, which turns out to mean producing a vibrator and giving you the most mind-melting, earth-shattering orgasm of your life, before saying a polite goodbye and leaving you tied up.

When your bladder gets full you just piss right there. It's not a bad way to do it, really; with your legs pulled back like this, you manage not to get much on you. You're a little more concerned about what happens when you need to shit, but you suppose there's a chance you can hold it until you die of hunger or thirst.

A man with a bushy beard gives you a long look before leaving and coming back with a long branch, one end whittled barkless and smooth. He inserts the smooth end into your pussy and sets the other end on the ground, held up only by your natural grip. He instructs you to bounce up and down on it while he masturbates. It's a little thick for you, but it actually feels pretty good, and you try to put on a good show for him as thanks. He lets you keep in there when he leaves, as a way to pass the hours.

You fall asleep just as the sun is setting. You find if you rest your head against the tree just so, you can relax without it falling forward and choking you on the rope across your neck. When you wake again it's full night, and someone has built a little fire in a circle of stones. A dozen or so men are lounging around, laughing, chatting, drinking beers out of a cooler. And raping you of course, but you barely even notice that now. All it really means to you is that someone took away your nice stick.

The ranger is among the men, though he's out of uniform. He raises a beer to you when he sees you're awake. "Welcome back to the land of the living! My buddies here are loving that little pussy of yours."

"You shouldn't have open flames out here," you croak, your throat dry. "You could start a...a...ah! Forest fire." Your sentence is interrupted when the man currently inside you does a strange sort of twisting thing you don't quite understand, and the jolt of pleasure takes you by surprise.

"Ah, fuck you," says the ranger. "Which of us here is the park ranger and which is the cum dump? I know my way around a fire."

"If you say so," you say as the man adds another load of cum to your collection.

He's drunk, you can tell. They're all a little drunk, their words a little slurred, their movements a little wobbly. As the next guy slides into you, you nod at the bottle in his hand. "Hey, let me get a little of that." He holds the bottle up to your lips obligingly, and while most of it splashes down your chin and across your breasts, you get a few good swigs in. It's a party, after all.

When everyone's had their turn on you the boys decide to play a game called "Hide the Herring," which turns out to consist of everyone scattering to find objects, and then taking turns trying to fit them inside you, the winner being the one with the largest object that manages to fit completely inside you. You get several different rocks, some sticks, big chunk of frozen together ice cubes, One guy tries to fit a full, unopened bottle of beer in you, fat end first. It stretches you almost to your limit but he manages, with a bit of clitoral stimulation, to get it all the way up to the neck. He says, "if you can hold on to it for ten seconds you can drink the whole thing," and you agree gamely to give it a try. He takes his hand away and the whole crowd counts down as you clench around this bottle, harder to do when you can't close your legs. You can feel it slipping, little by little, but when the count reaches zero it's still there, and you let it slip out into its owner's waiting hands. He cracks it open and holds it to your mouth, and you close your lips around it. You don't want to lost any like last time. The group is so impressed by the way you open your throat and let it drain into you that they give you another, and another after that. By the end of your fourth beer you're definitely feeling the alcohol, and the last of the fear and misery of the situation falls away like the last remnants of a lizard's skin. Being the Elk Trail Cum Dump, you guess, isn't so bad after all.

The winner of Hide the Herring ends up being a full ten pack of hot dogs. The entrant opens it up, uses two of the hot dogs to pack the wrapping into your pussy, and then spends about fifteen minutes cutting the other eight into pieces and popping them, one at a time, into your asshole. There's a lot of arguing about whether using your ass is allowed, or if it still counts as one object once the package is open, but it doesn't matter to you. Being filled this full feels amazing, and you manage to convince one of the guys to fuck you with your ass stuffed like this. Chunks of hot dog pop out of your ass, two and three at a time as you cum, and he leaves you dripping, feeling warm and gooey.

You get fucked a few more times as they set up camp for the night. Everyone's cum at least once by now, so the loads are getting a little thin, but that's okay. You feel as though you are melting into the tree, becoming a part of it. When you wake tomorrow, you imagine your arms and legs will have grown into its bark, your hair becoming leaves, your heart and lungs and mind becoming wood. Nothing more than a handful of tight wet holes for hikers and campers to enjoy. With this image glowing in your mind's eye, you drift off into a contented sleep.

#r@pe fantasy #r@petoy #r@pe kink #cnc free use #cvmdump #cvmslvt #rapekink #rapetoy

[dearestgojo]

Summer Days

Gojo x fem reader x Geto

A/n: This was originally supposed to come out during the summer for my summer Collab, but I lost inspiration until recently so here you go. Also this is heavily influenced and inspired by "Y Tu Mama Tambien" which is a movie i really enjoy.

Warnings: 18+. Some angst. Pwp. Three different smut scenes. Reader has long hair which is then cut short. Dubcon. Use of condoms. Oral m & f receiving. Cunnilingus. Fingering (there's vaginal and anal). Outdoor sex. Public Sex. Cowgirl. Riding. Throatfucking. Nipple Play. Deepthroating. Handjobs. Blowjobs. 69 position. Spit. Squirting. Overstimulation. Breeding Kink. Multiple Orgasms. Threesome. Cockslapping. Dumbification. Grinding. Pussy job. Rimming. Double Penetration (one-hole). Anal. Male x male stuff. Geto and Gojo kissing. Creampies. Multiple Orgasms. Piss kink. Golden Showers. Dracyphilia. Cum swallowing.

Wc: 19k  | JJK Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 | Moodboard

Peering over the top of his sunglasses, Satoru raises a single finger and points in the general direction of the entrance to the venue, sifting his weight so that the front legs of his chair touch the ground. The movement and sound grab the attention of his best friend, who is leaning against his chair, his head resting on the back of it, legs raised off the ground and resting against the ledge of the balcony they were hanging out on. Suguru looks at Satoru, watching as he folds his arms over each other on the railing, chin resting on the back of his left hand, “What do you think she sees in him?” Satoru asks, “He’s way too old for her, so what exactly does she see in him? Do you think it’s the money? Or does she have daddy issues?” 

Suguru swings his legs off the ledge, copying Satoru’s stance looking down at where you're standing, arm hooked into Satoru’s uncle's arm, smiling at the guest that walks up to the two of you. You're standing up straight, smiling gently as always. He shrugs and pulls a cigarette from his pocket, “Maybe she’s into older guys because she has daddy issues.” 

They both stare down at you, watching as you weave between the crowd, your head turning to look around, searching for something. Satoru’s breath hitches when you find them perched on the balcony, your smile grows, and you lift a single hand to wave at them. You turn to his uncle, whispering in his ear before detaching yourself and making your way to the stairs that lead up to them. 

"She's coming," Suguru points out, killing the cigarette on the rail. Satoru nods and makes his way in the direction you would be coming in through. 

"Think we should invite her on our little summer trip?" He asks, running one hand through his hair. 

Suguru shrugs, "Do what you want. You always do anyway."

A few minutes later you show up, smiling at them both as they wait for you at the top of the stairs, offering their arms to you. "Hello, boys," you greet, a smile spread on your face as you hook your arms through theirs and let them lead you to the resting area, "It's good seeing you." 

Suguru pulls a chair out for you, leaning over your shoulder as you sit, "It's good seeing you too, y/n. Though seeing you wrapped around another man's arm was not exactly ideal." 

"So I should be hanging on to your arm?" You ask, peering over your shoulder at him and batting your eyelashes. 

Leaning closer to you, lips almost touching, Suguru beams, eyes twinkling as he teases back, "That doesn't sound too bad."

You grin up at him, shrugging your shoulder and turning back to look at Satoru, "What do you think 'Toru? In whose arms would I look better? Sugu's or your uncle's?"

Satoru leans, resting his elbows on his knees while smiling at you. He taps his lips with his pointer finger a few times like he is thinking about your question, "I think you'd look better wrapped in my arms."

You laugh waving both of them off in the end, "Oh you guys, you two really get off teasing me don't you?." You watch as Suguru moves to sit in the chair in front of you sitting next to Satoru, a glass coffee table separating you from them, watching the slit of the red midi dress you wear expose your thigh. "So what are you both doing for the summer?" you ask, leaning back on your hair to catch a glimpse of the party happening below. 

Satoru shrugs, leaning to rest on his knees, "A beach trip, of course," he sucks in some air, emanating a low whistle from his lips, "All those girls in their two pieces suits, and their skin glowing with sweat. And then all the beach parties."

Suguru's lips curve as he watches you shake your head in disbelief. An idea forms in the front of his brain as he recalls a rumor he heard from his mother's maid. He grabs the glass of whiskey he had placed on the table earlier, raising it to his lips and speaking with the rim placed against his bottom lip. "You should join us. I hear Gojo's uncle is going to be busy all summer." 

Your smile twitches and the brightness of your eyes dulls a little. Suguru can tell that you have already guessed what Satoru's uncle would be busy doing. Or rather who. The same person he spent time with when you were locked up in your room prepping for finals. But just as quickly as the brightness had dulled it returns. Your smile spread even wider as you attempt to cover your dissatisfaction with where your relationship with the older Gojo was going. 

"I'll think about it," you respond, "We haven't hung out in a while, so I think it'd be nice."

"Good because we'd love to have you. Right, Satoru?" Suguru smiles at you finally taking a drink.

Satoru nods his head, his brain still trying to untangle the underlying meaning of his friend's words and the quick switches in the atmosphere, "Yeah, it'd be fun." 

The three of you converse on the small balcony for a few more minutes, all avoiding the topic of your dating life, and sipping from the glass of wine Satoru had managed to sneak out of the kitchen. Towards the end of the night, you're seated between the two of them, your head resting on Satoru's shoulder as he mindlessly toys with your fingers. Your brain feels a little buzzed and you're hiccuping every so often, the sound causing a very wine-drunk Suguru to giggle every time. 

The sound of soft melodic music carries from downstairs, lulling you to sleep between your two childhood friends. The softness of the circles Satoru draws on your hand doesn't help as your eyes start to droop with sleep. 

You're already half asleep when you feel the hair sticking to your forehead get pushed back. Opening your eyes a little you find your boyfriend smiling at you, slightly tugging on your arm to pull you up. "You ready to go home?" he asks, cupping your face in his large hand as he sways you both. You nod your head, the back of your throat feeling too dry to respond verbally. "Good," he glances behind you, your movement had woken up the other two, "Thank you boys for entertaining my girl."

Satoru rubs his eyes, nodding and yawning, "No problem uncle. Spending time with y/n is always a pleasure." 

Your boyfriend nods and secures his arm around your waist and starts pulling you towards the stairs, "Well, you two have a nice night, and don't get into too much trouble."

"No promises," Satoru drags, settling back on the couch to sleep.

Suguru stares at the two of you near the opening and watches as you smile fondly at the man next to you. He clears his throat and calls out, "Y/n! Remember you're free to join us on our trip if you want." 

You look at him over your shoulder and smile before disappearing down the curved stairs.

~

They didn’t expect you to show up. They didn't even bother sending you a text the night before to remind you that you were still welcome. Both men were hopeful that by some miracle of the universe, you would show up at the last second and join them. No, they didn't expect you to come, however, the last thing they expected was for you to show up with tears in your eyes and your clothes soaking from the pour raining. But there, you are on the front steps of Suguru’s one-bedroom apartment, a duffel bag in your hand and eyes swollen two weeks after the party. You smile meekly at them, eyes squinting shut before you say anything, “Is it too late to ask if I can join you?”

Suguru mindlessly nods, eyes opened wide as he stares down at you, his eyes lingering on your chest before stepping aside and letting you in and out of the rain, helping you steady yourself as you take off your shoes. He clears his throat from behind you before speaking "I have a change of clothes if you want to change, and we can throw your clothes in the dryer." 

You nod staring blankly at the bathroom door near the hall, Satoru comes in from it, pulling a shirt over his head and obscuring his view, "Hey, who's at the door?" 

Leading you towards the restroom with a hand on the small of your back, Suguru answers, "It's y/n, she's coming with us." 

Satoru's head pops out when the restroom door closes behind you, "Oh, really?" it comes in muffled through the door and you can hear them heading down the hall as their voices fade.

Staring at yourself in the mirror, you feel your stomach start to twist at the sight of your soaked hair sticking to your forehead and shoulders. Mascara running down your cheeks from the tears and rain, eyes swollen and red. Your white dress is sticking to you, nipples hardened from the cold of the rain and of Suguru's home, allowing the color of them to be seen through the thin material. The back of your eyelids hurt every time you close your eyes.

You keep replaying the scene in your head. Keep hearing the sound of the door clicking shut behind you, and the sound of your boyfriend's name bouncing off the walls as you search his home for him. You keep hearing the sounds of muffled whimpers and the sound of groans traveling down the hall, which warped into themselves as you had slowly walked towards the bedroom. Your legs unsteady and sweat travels down your temples as you approach it. You can feel your heart speeding up as you open the door and find the man you had trusted with your heart, curved over the body of a blond, hands gripping whatever they could.

The sound of a knock on the bathroom door pulls you out of your daydream. Suguru's voice travels through the door, "Hey, you okay y/n?" 

You nod your head and remember he can't see you. Clearing your throat you try to sound normal, even with the knot that's lodged in your throat, "Yeah. I'm okay." 

There's a pause before he speaks to you again, "Okay, I have some clothes for you to change into, so if you want to open the door I can stick them through." Opening the door a few inches Suguru sticks in a stack of clothes, that you grab and set on the counter, "Um we'll probably leave in a few hours, so if you want to shower to warm up you have plenty of time. I don't think Satoru's even finished packing." 

"Um...thanks. I'll be out in a bit." You close and lock the door, before turning back to see yourself in the mirror. Swallowing the lump in your throat you pull the straps of your dress down, letting it fall to the ground with a wet plop. You can still see the fading lovebites from the other night, your stomach churns as your eyes travel along the path they create to the bottom of your stomach. You have the urge to rip off your skin the longer you stare at yourself. 

Tearing your eyes away from the mirror you turn the shower and run the hot water, peeling your underwear off and sorting through Suguru's hygiene products under the counter. For a man, you find a lot of feminine products, concluding he must keep them around for hook-ups who stay over. 

Grabbing a new loofa and a travel-sized body wash you climb into the hot water, grimacing when the water touches your skin. The bathroom starts to steam up, the mirror and glass shower door fogging up. You scrub your skin hard until it stings and feels like the scalding water is scorching it. You scrub until you are sure that every part of skin he's touched burns and that his fingerprints can't be found on your body. You scrub until you are sure that it'll take your skin less than seven minutes to replace the skin that takes seven years to replace. 

You somehow end up crying on the shower floor, a soft knock bringing you back to reality, where you realize the shower is now cold and that you're shaking beneath it. Shutting it off you reaching for one of Suguru's towels, the one you pick smelling heavily of his cologne, the scent that clings to the clothes you slip into after drying off. The white shirt he left you, falls below the curve of your ass, and the gray sweats slip off your hips even after pulling on the strings. Securing your hair in a towel you walk out the bathroom door into the open living space.

The dining area is directly in front of you, and the opening to the hallway is on your left, along with the living room. Large windows allow natural light to come in through the long white curtains that are usually closed but are now open due to the weather, letting you peer out into the inclement weather. Dark gray clouds floating across the sky, flashing every few minutes. You can hear the soft pitter-patter of the raindrops, the house quiet enough for you to even hear as the water pours down the gutter pipe, and the sound of the kitchen sink leaking.

You stand there for a few minutes, staring at the walls of Suguru's home. From where you stand, you take notice of the touches of feminity left across the spaces and how out of place they seem with each other. All are clearly either left behind or gifted. There are the unmatching throw pillows on the couch, one a bright red and the other a blue with a fringe, that clash against one another and the leather couch. There's a floral mug on the edge of the skin, bright colors of pink, purple, and blues sticking out against the white and stainless steel. There are a few plants scattered around the house, a few deaths, and others fighting to stay alive. 

"You're out," you feel someone's warm breath on your ear, causing you to jump. You look behind you to find Satoru standing behind you, who chuckles a bit as he looks down at your startled face, "Sorry didn't mean to scare you, but you didn't hear me come in and it just seemed so easy." The corners of his lips drop and he leans down a bit, pushing a strand of hair back under your towel. "Suguru told me you'd be joining us," he says while swinging one arm over your shoulder, and walking you to the living room, "and I will say I'm a little surprised you ditched my uncle, but I'm ecstatic we get to have you to ourselves now."

You swallow down the knot lodged in the back of your throat, tongue heavy in your mouth, and force a smile, "I hope you don't get bored of me."

Satoru plops down on the couch, pulling you down with him into his side, nuzzling his hair on the top of your head while he wraps an arm around you. "Us? Get bored of a pretty thing like you? Never," he replies, breathing the scent of Suguru's shampoo while holding you close.

You sink into his warmth, letting it envelop you, his sincere words alleviating some of the heaviness in your chest. The lids of your eyes fall close, your body exhausted from the day's events, to the sound of his steady breathing and the sound of raindrops hitting the large living room window. You breathe in Satoru's sweet scent, muttering, "I'm going to hold you to that," before falling asleep in his arms.

~

The car feels cramped and stuffy, even with the windows rolled down, your skin feeling itchy even through the layers of clothes you wear. Two hours into the drive and you want to strip naked in the backseat. 

“Can either of you tell me why we don’t have the AC on?” You grumble, tugging on the collar of the shirt Suguru had given you hours ago,

Suguru looks back at you through the rearview mirror, his left arm extended while holding on to the steering wheel, drawing your eye to the dark ink scales that wrap around his arm, the head resting on the center of the back of his hand while the tail curls around the top, muscles flexing as he holds on to it. His long dark hair is tied into a loose bun, strands of hair falling out, "The weather is nice enough to have the windows down,"

"It's fucking hot and humid," you bark, Gojo laughing in the passenger seat.

Suguru continues, ignoring your comment, "And the AC isn't working."

"Let me get this straight," you start from the back seat, "You decide to take a road trip during the summer, when it gets very hot, with a broken AC? Not only that, but I'm like ninety-nine percent sure you make enough money to have gotten it fixed before going on this trip."

Suguru's eyes flicker to you in the back seat, "Look I didn't have time to go the shop before."

You turn to look at Satoru, who's covering his laughs behind the palm of his hand, "Okay, then why aren't we taking one of your cars?"

His laughing stops, and he turns to look at you with a dead stare, "That's a touchy subject right now."

"His dad told him he had to learn to fend for himself in the real world after finding out he spent over four thousand dollars in one week," Suguru answers for him, covering his mouth with the back of his hand to hide his grin, "said he can get all his belongings back when he learns to be responsible."

You burst into laughter, "Oh no, did anyone tell him that that might be impossible?"

"Will the two of you shut up?" Satoru pouts, crossing his arms over his chest.

Giggling still, you undo your belt buckle and pat his shoulder, "It's okay Satoru. In the meantime if you need to borrow money, just let me know," you tease. Satoru shrugs your hand off, and turns back to look out the window, dark circled sunglasses protecting his blue eyes from the sun, while you lean back onto the seat, "Okay, so what am I supposed to do? I'm burning up back here."

"You can probably cool down if you take off those sweats," Satoru says nonchalantly while staring out the window, Suguru's dark eyes flickering to you once more, "No one would know anyways, it looks like a dress on you."

"I can't do that with the two of you in here."

"Then die of heatstroke, I guess."

Suguru watches the sweat drip from your temple down to your jaw, your lips starting to dry. He feels a little guilty for giving you the sweats and not a pair of his shorts, but nothing can be done about that now. Clearing his throat, he turns back to look at the road and says, "Look you can change back there if you want, we won't look. Promise." He nudges Satoru's side.

Satoru looks away from the window, muttering in agreement, "Yeah, promise, I won't look."

You sit frozen in the back seat, waiting to see if they keep their word, challenging them to look. When neither moves their head from the direction they're each looking in, you move to the edge of the seat behind Satoru's seat. You set both feet on the car floor, kicking your sandals off, and raise your hips to pull the sweats down to your mid-thigh before sitting back down on the seat completely. Pulling them the rest of the way off, you feel much cooler already, the humid summer air still warm on your exposed skin, but the hot air blowing through the car windows doesn't feel as suffocating anymore.

"Okay, I'm done," you announce, fixing the hem of the shirt, before looking up, startling a little.

Suguru is looking at you through the mirror again, and you feel something caught in the back of your throat while your stomach flips. He breaks eye contact first to look back onto the road, "Feel better?"

Swallowing the spit in your mouth you nod your head, "Yeah much better."

The rest of the car drive is pretty quiet, save for the radio playing a mixture of all of your music, and Satoru pointing out things along the way. Like a cloud that looks like a dog drinking tea, landmarks, or a beautiful view you happen to drive past. You continue to drive until the car needs gas.

Suguru pulls into a small gas station just outside of a small unknown town, with only two cars parked in front. "Okay, I need to fill up, and stretch so we'll stop here for a few minutes," he turns to hand you a wad of cash, "We also need some snacks and lunch, so if you want to go get us some sandwiches and chips, that would be great."

"Oh, okay," you respond, taking the money from his hand, "Anything specific you want?"

Suguru shakes his head, getting out of the car, while Satoru answers, "Could you get me some cookies, and if they have any of those little parfaits like cups? Also if they have any fruit cups get me one, and maybe some of those Starbucks coffees that are in the glass bottles, get at least one of each flavor they have."

"Yes, your majesty," you mock, getting out of the car and slamming the door shut before bowing, "your wish is my command." You skitter away when he fake throws something at you, laughing over your shoulder as you make your way into the gas station.

The belly at the door dings when you open the door, an employee behind the counter grumbling a greeting. The gas station has an ac running which helps cool you off the hot summer sun, the sweat on your body helping you cool down, as you walk around looking for what you need. You easily find the sandwiches Suguru asked for, a cup of fruit, and Satoru's drinks, the only thing you don't find are the parfait cups he asked for. Looking out one of the large windows you see Suguru leaning against the side of his car, still filling up on gas. You decide to keep looking around for a few more moments. 

Going down each aisle, you find little souvenirs and unknown snacks, along with car gear, such as bulbs for headlights, wires, and jumper cables. It's in there that you find a pair of scissors. 

They lay on top of any empty shelf, unpackaged, probably belonging to one of the employees, calling out your name. You hesitate on picking them up, fingers hovering over the rub handle. They feel heavy in your hand when you lift them, the sound of the two blades loud in your ears. Looking over the shelf, you make sure the employee isn't paying attention before setting all the things you had gathered onto the empty shelf, and that Suguru is still getting gas, before making your way to the restrooms in the back of the building.

The restroom smells heavily of bleach and cheap lavender air fresher, and the mirror has water stains on it. There are a few paper towels scattered around on the floor, but it is otherwise cleaned, which you didn't expect given that the gas station seems to not be frequented often. Looking down the hall one last time, you close the door and lock it. Your forehead rests on the cool surface of the white door, your heart racing, and the hand that's holding the scissors sweating.

You know you aren't thinking clearly. That all the decisions you make right now are byproducts of the heartache you're suffering from. Yet you find yourself making your way to the sink, staring at yourself in the mirror while twirling the ends of your hair.

After several moments, which feel like a lifetime, you grab a section of your hair and begin to cut. The sound of the blades clipping through rings loudly in your ears, but you don't stop, separating section after section of hair. Hair that the man you once loved and now loathed had caressed. 

The bunches of hair fall into the sink, and a few loose strands fall onto the floor, slowly piling on one another. You don't cry or get angry, you simply cut until your hair rests just above your shoulders. A cute little bob that frames your face.

With the last snip, you let the hair fall and run the tips of your fingers along the ends. The cuts are a bit jagged and uneven, but not noticeable unless you really looked. The hand that holds the scissors is trembling as you stare at yourself in the mirror.

It clicks then, the reality of what you've done. You drop the scissors onto the floor, scrambling to pick up the hair that decorates the floor, shoving it into the trashcan. 

"Oh my god, oh my god," you utter frantically, chest constricting.

There is a knock on the door as you shove the last bit in, the inside of your mouth feeling dry. Wild eyes find yours in the mirror as Suguru's voice travels through the closed door.

"Y/n, you in there? We're done getting gas, and Satoru's paying for the stuff you left out here, at least we're assuming you left out here," he sounds concerned, " You were taking a while to come out, so we came to look for you."

The palms of your hands are sweating, and you rub them on the shirt, trying to sound normal when you respond, "Yeah, I'm fine," swallow looking at the doorknob and opening it, "I'm coming out."

Suguru stares at you for several seconds, at a loss for words. Blinking, he gestures to your hair, stuttering over his words, "Y-your hair."

You smack your lips, pushing past him and heading out to the front of the store, "Yeah...so let's get going."

He chases after you, calling out, "Are we not going to talk about this?"

"No. It's my hair." 

"Okay, but you could have waited to do it professionally."

"I could've, but I wanted it done now." You near the car, and Satoru looks up from his phone, wearing the same look Suguru wore when he first saw you on his face, the same words stumbling out of his mouth, "You're hair? What happened?"

"I cut it."

"Why?"

"Cause I felt like it," you bark, swinging into the backseat, "Can we go now."

"Are we not going to talk about this?" Satoru asks exasperated.

Suguru get's in and answers with, "No, 'cause it's her hair."

"Damn right is my hair, so can we start going before it get's late." 

The two men share one last look, a silent exchange of worried looks before Suguru starts the car. No one talks or plays music. The drive is completely silent for the rest of the day's drive. 

You want to say you regret the spontaneous decision, but you don't, not when some of the weight on your chest has been lifted. Sure you might regret it later when you're thinking more clearly, but right now it brings you a sense of peace. 

~ 

The sun is just starting to fall below the horizon when Satoru pulls into the parking lot of a dingy motel, the sign slanted and flickering. You turn your nose up while looking around the parking lot. There's a gated pool area, with white lounging chairs spread along the edge, and a tipped sign with rules on it. Beyond that, secluded in one of the sides of the hotel, are two large trees next to each other with a hammock, and a patch of white cement underneath it. The place feels deserted, untaken care of with the thrown trash on the paved parking lot, and dried leaves on the sidewalks outside the rooms.

“Are we really staying here?” You ask, trying to keep your discontentment hidden, but your nose still wrinkles the more you look around. 

Suguru groans as he stretches from the passenger seat, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, "We're going to have to, next town is another two hours from here," he turns to look at you, "Do you want your own room or are you okay with sharing?"

You look around the parking lot, a piece of trash blowing across your field of vision, "Sharing is fine with me, I wouldn't want to be alone here."

Suguru nods and starts to get out of the car, "Alright then, I'll go get us a room, meanwhile, you two can start getting your bags out if you want to shower. We can go out to eat after, there's a nice burger joint around here."

Satoru follows, keys jingling as he spins them on his pointer finger, resting his arms on the roof of the car, "Sounds like a plan."

You stay in the car, watching Suguru head toward the front desk, your now short hair sticking to the back of your neck. "Do you think it's safe to stay here?" you voice, peering out the window at Satoru. 

He walks towards the back window, resting his arms on the edge as he looks at you, long body curved awkwardly, "It's fine, we've stayed here before it's not as bad as it looks. It's another small town so nothing ever happens." He pats the top of the car and moves to the back, opening the trunk.

You're still reluctant to get out, but you step out of the car, tugging on the hem of your shirt down. The air has cooled from earlier in the day, a cool breeze making the leaves of the trees sway, and less humid. Standing beside Satoru, you take your bag from his hands, fingers touching his, and wait as he digs for his and Suguru's. Neither of you speaks, the sing-song chirps of the birds as they fly towards their nests, and the rustling of the leaves. A few car engines can be heard off in the distance, and footsteps approaching you grabs your attention. 

You look up to see Suguru heading toward you, arms stretched over his head as he reties his long hair, biceps flexing, and the large arm holes of the tank top his wearing slipping, one of his nipples exposed to the cool afternoon air. "We got a room on the bottom floor," he announces, taking his bag from Satrou, "Room twenty-four."

The sound of the trunk being slammed shut echoes, followed by the sound of wings flapping as birds fly out from the trees near you. The sound startles you and you look up to watch them fly off, the sky starting to turn a shade of lilac, orange and pink bleeding into the soft color. 

"Come on, y/n," Satoru calls after you, waving you over to follow them.

The walk toward the room takes you around the hotel, somewhere near the pair of trees and hammock you had seen when you pulled up. The hotel lights flicker on, buzzing softly over your head while Suguru opens the door with a key. 

The lights are off when the door swings open, Suguru flicks the lights on when he steps in, and Satoru hangs behind until you walk past the threshold. The room is nicer than you expected, appearing to have recently been remodeled. 

There are two queen beds against one of the walls, light fixtures hanging on either side of each one, with a shared bedside drawer in the center, and a bible placed neatly underneath. There's a large flat-screen tv hanging in front of the beds, with an entertainment center underneath that has a coffee bar, mini-fridge, and the remote for the tv.

"This is nicer than I thought it would be," you answer, settling down on one of the beds, the sheets smelling like freshly washed linen. 

"See, I told you it wasn't as bad as it seemed," Satoru grins, tossing his bag at the edge of the bed closer to the door, Suguru doing the same before falling back onto his bed, the springs giving under his weight. 

"How about you shower first," Suguru offers, arms spread across the width.

You kick your sandals off, not about to pass on getting to the hot water first, you pick up your bag and head straight to the bathroom, "Yeah, sure." 

The door clicks behind you once more, and you find yourself standing back under bright fluorescent lights, that don't do you any favors. You don't recognize yourself staring back in the mirror right next to the door above a large sink, hair cropped short and greasy, lips chapped from being out in the hot air all day. All that paired with Suguru's oversized shirt, the only thing you have on, along with the dark circles under your eyes, you look like a deranged person. 

You don't bother trying to fix yourself and start to run the hot water while you undress, pulling the white shirt over your head, and letting it drop on the floor. Looking back up into the mirror you glance at your body, noting how most of the bruises from the previous night are now gone. It's crazy to think that in the last twenty-four hours, you went from a woman deeply in love, planning her days ahead with the man she loved, to a now single woman on a road trip with two men she had shared her entire high-school experience with. 

Once the room starts to steam up, the mirror getting fogged up, you climb into the shower, hissing when the hot water touches your bare skin at first before relaxing under the shower head. You're much gentler with your skin this time, lathering yourself carefully, the nerves remembering the burning sting from the morning. You appreciate the quiet of the bathroom as you wash, the sound of the television muffled by the door, and the sound of the water. 

When you come out of the shower, dressed in a baby blue sundress that stops mid-thigh, you seem like a different person from the one that showed up in the morning, and the one that cut her hair in a gas station restroom. You're humming as you put your dirty clothes in a separate part of your bag, your new mood has the two men staring at you, something you don't notice until you look up.

"What?" you ask, sitting down at the end of the bed near Satoru's legs.

Suguru shakes his head, putting his phone down on the bed, "Nothing. You just seem...like yourself again."

You raise a brow, "Is that a good or bad thing?"

"Good." Satoru breathes out, shifting to rest his head on your thigh, grabbing your hand to place on top of his white hair, humming in delight when you start massaging his scalp.

Suguru watches you two, eyes glued on the spot where your fingers circle in his best friend's hair, flickering up to find you smiling down at him. Something that he feels is misplaced blooming in his chest. Clearing his throat he gets up, grabs a handful of clothes from his bang, and announces, "I'm gonna shower now. I'll be out in a few," before disappearing into the door you came out.

You and Satoru remain like that for a few more moments, the sound of the shower running making you look up. A few more minutes pass before Satoru's head starts to feel heavy and you lift him off, standing up.

"Where are you going?" he asks, opening one eye to look at you.

"Need some fresh air."

He sits up, quickly suggesting, "Let me go with you."

You decline, grabbing Suguru's key from the drawer, "No, it's fine. I need some time alone and my hair needs to dry."

Satoru doesn't press any further, just stares at you and nods, "Okay, be careful, it's getting dark."

"I will," you smile, walking out the door.

In a span of a few minutes the sky has become a dark shade of blue, the sun still not fully below the horizon. The cool summer breeze lifts the end of your dress and engulfs you in the nostalgia of past family summer days when you'd go on trips like these and barbeque in the backyard. The chirping of the cicadas reminds you of lake days, and the firework shows they would have, the bright colors reflecting in the dark water. 

You find yourself truly smiling for the first time today, making your way to the hammock that is illuminated by a single light post. You don't check to see how sturdy it is before settling into it, swinging back and forth as you look up into the night sky. 

The stars are brighter out here, the light pollution from the city is not as bad, and you can make out more constellations. They slide in and out of view as you swing. You're so focused on the sky you don't hear the sound of a door shutting or footsteps approaching until someone is speaking right in front of you.

"You should have let Satoru come out here with you, I know it's a small town, but it's getting dark," Suguru gripes, stopping the hammock from swinging with both arms, caging you, "Don't want you doing something crazy like you did earlier."

His face is only a few inches away from yours, the scent of his cologne and body wash filling your nose, droplets of water falling from the ends of his hair onto your lap. If you tilt upwards a bit more your nose would brush against his. You can hear your heart beating in your ears and thumping against your ribs, the palms of your hands.

You smile up at him, "It's not that bad, the sun's just starting to go down. Anyways you're here now."

He drops his arms, grumbling, "God, I swear I wish I knew what was going on in that little head of yours. Scoot over." You move over, feeling the hammock slightly give under Suguru's weight as he sits beside you. You're quiet for a few minutes, Suguru gently swaying you with his heels on the ground. The sound of his voice startles you when he breaks it, "So are you going to tell me why you were crying this morning?"

You puff your cheeks, blowing the air out slowly, smiling sadly at the ground, remembering his comment from the party, "I think you already know, but if I must." You take another breath of hair, sighing as you turn to look at him, "I found him in bed with another woman, so I just left. Honestly, I didn't even know I was crying until I showed up at your doorstep."

It's quiet again, the cicadas chirping off in the distance, along with a dog barking at something, and the leaves crinkling over your head. You watch your feet hang above the ground, Suguru still swaying you back and forth.

"Well, he's an idiot if he thinks he can do better than you. Especially at his age," Suguru's words are somewhat comforting, they have you looking up at him, eyes widened, and giggle slipping from your lips. Suguru smiles at you, eyes shut closed, "What? I'm just saying it how it is. He thinks he's some big hot shot when he's just a forty-year-old man who can't date women his age 'cause he's a walking red flag." You laugh harder, your body shaking, laughter slowly dying, and your vision focusing on him through the tears.

You shouldn't. You know you shouldn't, that you're letting the heartache that weighs down on your chest cloud your judgment, but you lean in any way to press your lips to his, the hammock swaying under your movement. Suguru's lips are slightly chapped, and he tastes of the greasy hot dog Satoru had gotten each of you at the gas station earlier. You're sure he can taste the same thing on you when you slide your tongue into his mouth. Your hand finds its way into the tangled mess of his wet hair, threading your fingers through it as you pull him down to deepen the kiss. 

He forces himself to pull back, a string of spit connecting your lips, breathing unsteadily, asking, "You sure about this?" You look down at him, the sound of your heart beating loud in your ears. Swallowing down you nod, reconnecting your lips for a more passionate kiss that more tongue and teeth knocking against one another.

"Make me forget about him." 

The hammock sways more when you toss your legs over his waist, tilting it so far back that the two of you almost flip over onto the ground, but you never break the kiss. The hand in his hair massages his scalp while you grip his bare shoulder with the other, slowly letting it drop to feel his broad chest and ridges of his abdomen. Playing with the waistband of his loose-fitted sweats.

He moans into your mouth when you cup him through the material, your hand applying pressure down as your rub it. "You're a tease you know?" He utters, hand reaching up to hold onto your jaw as he kisses along your exposed neck and chest, fingers slipping under your dress.

You tremble above him as you feel his hand going up higher, your hand slipping beneath the waistband of his sweats, discovering that he forwent underwear. "What about you? You didn't even put on underwear," you throw back, feeling his hot length in the palm of your hand, fingers wrapping around at the base. 

"Fuck," he murmurs into your neck, nipping at the skin while burying his face further into your neck, his comeback dispersing from his thought process when you start stroking him. He hurriedly bunches the front of your dress, not wanting to let you do all the work, and groans when he sees the lacey blue thong, a small wet patch already forming. He circles your clit with his forefinger, his legs shifting underneath you to have more of a steady ground. He nuzzles his face back into your chest, nibbling and sucking on the tops of your breasts. 

Your head is resting on top of his, free hand tangled in his long damp hair, your breathing growing more uneven the more he plays with your clit and folds through your underwear. His cock grows harder in your hand, twitching when you brush on the bottom of the mushroom tip, his sweatpants getting in the way. 

Suguru's fingers slide the fabric of your thong to the side, directly touching you, fingers glistening under the moonlight. He circles your entrance with one finger, slowly slipping it in, groaning when he feels your walls pulsing around his thick digit. "You're so fucking wet, Jesus Christ, and hot," he huffs, "Guess he didn't fuck you right if just a few touches can get you soaked." 

Pull the waistband of his pants down freeing his cock, looking down to watch as it hits his lower stomach. Drool seeping out the corners of your mouth as you slur, "He didn't. I rarely ever came when we did it." 

"Oh really, guess I'll have to help you make up for all the times you didn't get to cum," he replies, slipping a second finger, making a come hither motion. His fingers feel deep inside your cunt, brushing against that one spot Satoru's uncle never seemed to quite reach. The spot that has your eyes rolling to the back and your mind going in and out of focus every time Suguru brushes against it, the heel of his palm hitting your clit, stimulating you further.

You're out of it, hand moving on its own accord, fucking yourself down on his fingers buried in your cunt. "Please, please, want to cum for you," you moan out loud, your brain no longer filtering any of your thoughts, "wanna come all over your fingers and your cock," your hand squeezes around his length.

Suguru chokes on a moan, his hips thrusting up into your hand, the hammock starting to sway again as he loses his ground while doing so, "Fuck, keep doing that, just like that."

Your hand moves up and down, matching the rhythm set by him, watching as the head of his cock is squeezed in your hand before it pops back up when you go down his shaft. You don't understand why, but the sight has you gushing around Suguru's fingers, thighs starting to tremble as your first orgasm approaches.

"Gonna cum," you whimper, burying your nose in his hair. The squelching sounds of your pussy grow louder and louder with every thrust of his fingers.

The front of your dress gets pulled down, exposing your tits to anyone who happens to walk by, Suguru's warm lips encasing one, biting into it before pulling back to look at the lewd expression on your face. "Then cum," he tells you, taking the nipple back into his lips to suck on it.

A couple of more movements of his fingers and you fall apart above him. His cock slips from your grasp, arms flying up to steady wrap around his neck while you shake, his fingers still moving in and out, helping you ride out your orgasm. You're mind goes blank, and the only thing you're able to process is the pleasure coursing through your body. 

When you come back down, the world feels fuzzy, your entire body buzzing. You feel circular motions being rubbed onto your lower back, the sensation relaxing and has you melting into Suguru's warm embrace.

"You good?" He asks, the side of his face resting on your chest, tongue licking the sweat off.

 Nodding you answer, tongue lax from the post-orgasm bliss, "Yeah, I'm good."

The hammock continues to sway, the heels of his fit touching the ground. The swaying cause you to feel something hard pressing to your inner thigh, making you very aware that you were the only one you came, and that Suguru is still suckling out your nipples, tongue playing with the hardened buds.

"You have pretty tits," he comments, apparently unbothered by his hard boner.

You ignore his compliment and snake your hand between your bodies, running your nails along his navel. "You didn't get to come," you say, looking down at him with a pout.

Suguru lets go of your nipple with a soft pop, smiling up at you, "Yeah, but that can easily be fixed," his fingers find your hole again, and he circles around it, "by you letting me fuck your tight little cunt properly."

You let out a moan, arms tightening around his neck. There's no need for you to respond, the way you press and push your tongue into his mouth is enough to let him know that you were planning on it anyway. Why start something if you weren't going to do it right anyway?

The two of you continue to kiss, tongues tangling with each other. Drool covers your faces as you sloppily kiss one another. Suguru's hands find the globes of your ass, large hands squeezing them and lifting the back of your dress, exposing your ass and wet pussy to the summer breeze.

Anyone could walk out into the parking lot and see what you two are up to, but you didn't care, you were intoxicated by the smell of Suguru, warm hands holding your legs open as he ran the head of his cock between your folds. You didn't care cause you also had this urge and need to erase the sensation of the places your ex had touched, to reach places he had never made you reach. If anyone saw you, well that was the last thing on your mind and the least of your worries right now.

"Need you, Sugu," you whimper, feeling the tip bump against your swollen clit. 

You feel one of his hands slide down your thigh, slipping into the pocket of his sweats, "One second, pretty girl, need to be safe first." He holds up a shiny blue foiled square packet between two fingers, tearing it open with his teeth.

"So you just care condoms around?" you ask, forehead pressed against his, one of your hands coming down to help him slide the rubber on his cock. 

"No," he pauses, the grip on your thigh getting tight," but you know who does? Satoru. And I just happen to be wearing his pants." The condom is fully on by the time he finishes his sentence, "There all done, now where were we."

"You were about to fuck me," you reply, reaching down to position him at your entrance. You both moan when the head slides in, your walls clenching around it. You slide down on his cock, inch by inch, feeling the stretch of his thick cock, your eyes glued on the spot where you two are starting to meet.

When you bottom out, Suguru tosses his head back, cursing loudly, "Fucking hell, your pussy feels like heaven," his nails dig into your skin, "You're squeezing me so fucking good right now." 

"Yeah?" you get out, brain starting to feel mushy all over again, filling absolutely full with his cock buried deep in you. You give yourself a few moments to adjust, before raising yourself up, whining loudly as you feel the drag of his cock, and dropping back down. 

The hammock sways because of your movements, slowly at first, matching the pace you set as you slowly bounce on Suguru's cock. But the fast your start to move the more the hammock rocks back and forth. Your boobs shake in Surugu's face, his footing on the ground lost as he chases after the sweet taste of your skin. 

"Feels so good, Sugu," you whimper, dragging out the last vowel of his name. The muscles of your thighs are starting to burn, and the spots where your knees dip down into the hammock hurt. But none of that matters to you when it feels like your insides are getting turned inside out and the scent of Suguru's sweat permeates the night's summer air.

Large hands grip your ass and soft lips nip on your neck, Suguru's warm breath tickling your skin when he speaks, "Yeah? Are you gonna cum all over my cock soon? Gonna let me feel you cream all over it while I fuck you outside?"

You nod, arms pulling closer into your chest, struggling to continue lifting yourself, warm flushing throughout your body, "Yeah. I want cum again, all over your cock." 

His hips move upwards to meet yours, the hammock swaying severely. The sounds of skin rubbing against skin sounds loud in the parking area and the sound of the rope straining around the tree synchronizes with the thrusts of your hips meeting his. The loud creaking would have had you burning with embarrassment if your mind wasn't going blank as you cum.

Your orgasm comes in long waves, rolling over your body. Warmth washes over your body as you shake in Suguru's hold, hips stilling against his while you cum, all the strength to lift yourself gone from your legs, choked moans falling from your lips. "Oh my god, so good. O-oh my god," you sob burying your head in his long hair.

Your hips roll into his, walls clenching and unclenching around his thick cock. Everything feels warm and out of focus, you barely notice that Suguru has stood up until you feel the bark of one of the trees on your back. The rough pieces dig into your lower back, surely leaving scratch-like marks, while Suguru ruts into it. 

His breathing is irregular, his large hands holding up by your thigh, chasing his own release. His nose is buried in the crook of your neck, hot breath hitting your burning skin, and his loud grunts right under your ear. You can feel his lips moving on the junction of your neck, but you don't hear any of the perverted words his saying, the world beyond his shoulder turning white.

You cum for the third time, body arching off the tree, legs shaking around Suguru's waist. Your release spurs his, and he cums in the condom, sweaty forehead pressed against your chest. You wonder if his vision also goes white and if he hears the same ringing in his ears as he empties his balls.

The hearing in your ears slowly returns, vision clearing, your arms still wrapped around his neck while he mindlessly kneads your ass. The first thing you hear is the rustling of the leaves and tall grass, and Suguru's labored breathing. The next is the far-off call of your names, you're brain recognizing Satoru's voice. You can't pinpoint where he is, but assuming the distance he's on the other side, probably heading toward the restaurant Suguru had mentioned to look for you. 

Wiggling in Suguru's hold, you drop your legs, choking on a moan when you feel him still hard inside of you. Suguru shakes, whimpering, "Stop that, you're not helping."

"How are you still hard?" you ask, eyes staring in the direction of the hotel room, half-expecting to see Satoru round the corner and find you. Your hand sneaks down, pushing on his navel slowly pulling his still-hard cock out.

Suguru hisses at the sensation of your fingers touching him, pressing soft kisses under your earlobe, "There's a thing called stamina, and I have plenty to go all night."

You chuckle, your body feeling like jelly in his hold, fingers carding through his long now dried hair, "Yeah, but we don't have all night, Satoru's looking for us."

"I heard," he murmurs, dropping your legs and pressing another kiss to your lips. He squeezes your ass, making you gasp, taking the chance of your lips being parted to slip into your mouth once more. 

You enjoy being kissed, and touched, by him more than you want to admit. But as your head beings to clear, as you began to realize while kissing him, going through with this is all feels wrong now. Both Suguru and Satoru had been your best friends throughout most of your high school years, and though you had daydreamed of kissing like this, doing things like this, with either one of them, you knew that crossing that line would change things between all three of you. 

You break the kiss, your hands resting on his shoulders, you're out of breath when you speak, "Aren't you scared he'll find us? What are you supposed to say if he does?"

Suguru comes up, a grin painted on his face, his lips swollen, "Then I guess you better hurry and help me with this." His hold on your waist loosens, one hand coming up to support himself on the tree behind you while he slips the condom off, tossing it into the shrubs beside you. Stroking himself with one hand while you drop down to your knees.

The patch of grass you kneel on isn't the softest, small rocks dig into your knees, and your soaked underwear sticks uncomfortably to the inside of your thigh when you rest your weight on the back of your calves. You put your hands on his half-covered thighs, tugging the rest of the sweatpants down to his knees while looking up at watching him touch himself. Keeping your hands on his thighs, nails digging into the hard muscles, you lick a long stripe from the crease of his balls to the slit on his tip, his hand coming off to rest on the back of your head.

You bat your lashes at him while you run your tongue along the shaft, teasing him endlessly, taking some enjoyment in the frustrated grunts he lets slip. You take one of his balls into your lips, suckling on it while running your hand up and down his shaft, feeling it burn an imprint into your palm. Memorizing the sounds he makes as he waits for you to take him into your mouth. Even with his hand resting on the back of your head he doesn't force you to stop teasing him and for that, you decide to end your torture and take the tip into your mouth. You've already long crossed the line that kept you at just friends.

Suguru easily hits the back of your throat, and the girth of his cock causes the corners of your lips to burn, the muscles of his thighs spasming as you take him in deeper. It takes you some time to acclimate to his size, having to pull off a couple of times before your nose is almost touching the trimmed hairs on his pelvis. But you manage, throat constricting around his cock, tongue licking the large vein that runs underneath. His finger grips a bunch of your hair, and the hand on the tree clenches while he exhales harshly out of his nose. You look up at him, eyes wide and dewy from the painful stretch of your mouth, the insides of your cheeks hollowing. His jaw clenches and the hold on your hair tightens.

He almost sounds broken when he speaks, dark eyes hazed over with pure unadulterated lust, "You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth," his fingers loosen just enough so he can rub his thumb on your temple, "It's taking everything in me not to fuck it right now. Wanna feel you gagging around it so badly right now. Wanna fuck myself into your throat until there's tears streaming down your pretty little cheeks." You hum around him, the sultry sound of his voice causing slick to seep out of your ruined cunt, "Oh? You'd like that, wouldn't you? Too bad we don't have enough time...but maybe next time."

You choke around him when his hips move on their own, pushing himself even further down your throat, your nails digging into his thighs. Pulling off you take a deep breath, strings of spit connecting your lips to his length. You pout up at him, voice hoarse, "That was mean."

"I know," He groans out, watching you take him back into your mouth, struggling much less than the first time. You pause when his coarse pubic hairs brush on the tip of your nose, swallowing around his length, humming when he tosses his head back moaning. Hollowing your cheeks you pull back until just the tip is inside of your mouth, swirling your tongue around the slit. Breathing in through your nose you glide your head back down, flatting your tongue on the underside. 

You start out with a slow steady pace, taking your time and letting your throat adjust to the girth and length, whiffing the scent of his body wash that lingers on his skin. Your rhythm increases so that the sounds of your gurgles and hums can be heard by anyone who happens to walk out of their room. Your knees are starting to hurt where the small pebbles in the grass dig harshly into your flesh, you're sure you're even bleeding some from the jagged edges of a few of the rocks cutting into it. But you can't bring yourself to care when the sight above you is heavenly. 

Suguru's hair is cascading over his face, his body curved downward, and his forehead rests on the hand that is supporting him against the tree. His mouth is ajar, letting moans and whines slip past them as he twitches in your warm mouth, his release looming over him.

"Can you hear the lovely noises your mouth is making while you take my thick cock down your tight throat?" He groans, the muscles of his thighs spasming under your hands. You hum around him, pushing your head down until your chin touches his swaying balls, batting your eyelash at him. He snickers at the lust-filled look you give him while pulling back, your teeth dragging along the length. "Gonna let me come in your mouth?"

"Mmhm," your hand moves down to play with his heavy balls, mouth descending once more. 

You take more than you meant, your throat spasming around his length, loud choked sounds reaching his ears. He would feel sorry, but the sound of you gagging around his cock and your hand squeezing his sac, is all it takes to push him over the edge.

He instinctively pushes you back down on his member when you attempt to come up for air, not expecting him to finish at that moment. His hips move reflexively into your mouth, the salty taste of his cum filling your mouth, fucking his cum down your throat, whimpering and heaving for air while his thighs twitch under the palms of your hand. 

When he finishes his hold loosens up and you pull back, breathing in throw your nose, chest hurting from the lack of air. You keep your mouth closed as you try to recuperate, freeing one hand to hold on to Suguru's softening cock, resting back. You swirl the contents in your mouth, humming while tapping Suguru's thigh to get his attention. Your position the head of his cock under the curve of your lips, carefully opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out, the tip brushing against the slit.

Above you, Suguru's eyes focus on the sight below him, his cock twitching in your hand. He wishes for a moment that he'd carried his phone out when he came to look for you, but how was he supposed to know you would end up in such a crude position? He would've taken the video of you swallowing his cum as a memento, one that he would've treasured for the rest of his life. 

"You're a little minx, you know that," he grunts out while you tuck him back into his pants. You stand and fix the top of your dress, reaching beneath to pull off your drenched underwear which you toss in a can near the opposite tree, shrugging. 

"I've been told," you respond, feeling the cool summer breeze blow under your dress, expression unreadable. 

Silence follows and the two of you stand awkwardly a few feet from each other, desire no longer clouding your minds. Your mouth opens and closes a few times like you can't form the correct words to say right now. You had wanted this earlier, had wanted to forget the touch of the man you had once loved, and you had for those couple of minutes. But now that you were thinking more clearly you knew that you had made a mistake by using one of your closest friends for your own benefit. Now not only did you still feel the fingertips of a ghost but the soft lingering touches of someone you still cared for and who would still very much play a part in your life. 

It's as if Suguru can see the turmoil going on inside your head, even when you show very little, but he lets out a sigh and rubs the back of his neck before breaking the silence, "We don't have to talk about it if you don't want. This could be a one-time thing. Don't feel guilty about it either, I know how you can be, I knew you were hurting and still let you go through with it." You blink at him, the breeze lifting the bottom of your dress, the far-off calls of your name reaching your ears. Suguru looks over his shoulder, turns on his heel, and starts walking toward the room, "Come on, Satoru's still looking for us."

He doesn't turn back to make sure you follow him. His hands buried deep in the pockets of his pants. And that simple act makes your heart ache even more than when you found your boyfriend in bed with another woman.

~

The tension is thick between you and Suguru the next day, Satoru oblivious to the events that transpired the night before sits in the back seat sleeping for most of the drive. Which leaves you alone in the front with your body positioned at an awkward angle leaning on the passenger door. Sugurur's music plays lowly, his thumb brushing along the curve of the steering wheel and his eyes on the road ahead.

You're cropped hair blows against the wind, chin resting on the palm of your head while you watch fields and trees flash past. A pair of Satoru's sunglasses rest on the bridge of your nose, protecting your eyes from the glaring sun and hiding the glances you sneak at Suguru.

His jaw is set while he looks ahead, glancing at his mirrors, and his hair is pulled into a ponytail, sunglasses resting on the top of his head. The hand that's holding onto the wheel flexes causing the snake head of his tattoo to give the illusion of it opening its mouth, the movement drawing your attention to travel down his face to this hand. A tingling feeling blossoms in the pit of your stomach, recalling the warmth of them wrapped around your body, holding you up, and the heaviness of his hand on the crown of your head when you had your mouth wrapped around him. Your eyes flicker from his tattoo to his crotch, which is still covered by the same sweats he wore the previous night.

"You're not going to talk to me, but you're going to eye me like a piece of meat?" he grouses, turning his head to look at you.

Your eyes flutter back to the passing scenery, your face feeling hot and the back of your throat drier than ever. Your voice is a higher pitch when you answer, the palms of your hands sweating on your lap, "I don't know what you're talking about, I wasn't looking at you."

"Yeah, sure, and you didn't have my cock down your throat last night," he throws back, laughing, attempting to sound teasing, but you can hear the hurt behind his chuckle.

Your entire head snaps to look back at Satoru, who is thankfully still peacefully sleeping in the back curled in an uncomfortable angle, "Sshh, do you want Satoru to find out?"

"I wouldn't mind if he did," Suguru shrugs, turning to look at you. You wish his sunglasses were obscuring his eyes so that you wouldn't have to see the saddened look they give you, "Look I told you not to worry about last night, let's just act like it never happened. 'Kay?"

You swallow, shifting back to your prior position, chest hurting, "How can we when you won't even look at me? I'm not the one making things weird, you are. Last night shouldn't have happened at all."

"Am the one making things wierd?" Suguru snickers, his voice rising, "You're the one who couldn't even look me in the eyes last night after you threw your underwear in the trash."

You're head whips around to look at Satoru, "Shh, you're going to wake him. Anyways you're the one who didn't talk to me for the rest of the night, and you completely ignored me this morning."

"Cause I didn't want to make you uncomfortable."

"Well, you're making me uncomfortable now by not talking to me," you argue back, watching his jaw clench and unclench before he turns back to the road.

"Fine, I'll start talking to you again," he infers, running his tongue on his bottom lip, clearing his throat before asking "Why do you care so much if Satoru finds out if we slept together." You know Suguru well enough to know that he isn't asking out of simple curiosity, but because it's clearly bothering him that you care so much. 

You sigh, glancing at the backseat once more, "Because we're friends, and I don't want his opinion of me to change after finding out I slept with one of my closest friends on the same day I broke up with his uncle."

"You know Satoru isn't like that. He'd probably tell us to turn back around so he could beat the living shit out of him." 

You swallow, a knot forming in the back of your throat, "I know, but still."

The car falls quiet after that, the awkward tension between you and him remains, but at the very least he asks you to change the music or give him directions and you can sit comfortably in your seat. You don't know if things will ever return to the way things were before, but what you can do is hope that they do.

Satoru wakes up towards the end of your drive, noting the change in the atmosphere between you and Suguru. He longer feels restless like he felt last night when he found the two of you walking on eggshells after running into him when he was returning to the room. He doesn't know what had the two of you acting like that, but as he watches you speak to each other for the first time since going to bed, he feels back at ease.

"Are you going to tell me what happened between the two of you that you were all weird last night and this morning?" Satoru asks, stretching his arms over his head, the scenery around starting to shift from the countryside to city life.

"It was something silly," Suguru answers, shooting you a half-smile, which you return.

He pouts in the back, hating that you two are keeping things from him, "Okay. I guess if you're talking again everything's fine." Satoru lets himself fall back in his seat, running a hand through his hair, "So what are we doing tonight? This is the last stop, and it's the least boring of them all. How about we go to that club from last time," he says, looking at Suguru.

The cars slowly start to pile up on one another the deeper you go into the city, Suguru's foot going a little heavy on the brake to keep from rear-ending the car in front of him that keeps braking. "Yeah, sure, but first let's get to the hotel."

The car falls quiet, the radio turned down letting the loud city noise surround you fully. You can hear the far-off distant honks, and a few only a few cars down, while you're stuck in traffic, you'd think years of living in the city you would have gotten used to it all, but the pounding in your head seems to grow the longer you stay seated surrounded by all of it.

You feel relieved when Suguru finally pulls into a private parking lot surrounded by buildings, he pays before driving into the lot and up to the third floor. He parks near the elevator, and takes his keys out, looking at you both. "Well, let's get out stuff and check in." 

You follow them out of the car, getting your stuff out of the trunk before heading into the hotel to check in. The hotel has high ceilings and maroon walls with golden accents. There are plants everywhere, and large columns lining the way up to the front desk. The receptionist greets you, an overused smile on her face, "Hi, how can I help you?"

"We'd like to get a room," Suguru starts, the receptionist's eyes flickering between the three of you, and continues when he notices the weird look she gives you, "Two queens please."

"Actually, I'd like my own room," you insert, Suguru glancing over his shoulder at you, an upset look flashing in his eyes that disappears just as quickly.

He turns back around, his voice hiding the hurt, "Okay, then we'll still get the room with two queens and one with a single."

The receptionist nods and types a few things on her computer, asking "Cash or card?" 

"Card," Suguru responds, reaching for his wallet. You make a note to transfer your part later.

"Okay," she drags out, turning the card machine toward him, clicking a few more things as he pays. "Here are your keys, the rooms are right across from each other. Room two thirty-four is a single room and room two thirty-five is a double." 

"Thank you, sweet thing," Satoru says taking them from her while Suguru puts his wallet back in his pocket.

You all head over to the elevator, the air around you and Suguru still awkward, Satoru standing between you and him as the doors close and you head up to your rooms. 

"Why'd you get a separate room?" Satoru asks.

You lean into his shoulder, lying, "Cause you two snore."

Satoru looks down at you with feigned hurt, while Suguru chuckles, "We do not." 

The elevator bell dings, opening to a long hallway with the same shade of maroon as the lobby and gold accents. Satoru leads the way toward your rooms, stopping in between the doors. "Okay, so we'll meet out here in thirty minutes and we can get food before going out to have some fun," Suguru declares, handing you your key, and smiling at you, "If you need anything we're right across the hall."

You nod, "I know." Both men stay still waiting for you to disappear behind the door. You give them a small wave after opening your door, " I'll see you in a bit."

~

You're vision and hearing come in and out of focus, the amount of alcohol coursing through your body making it hard to do anything. One moment you're swaying your hips to the blaring music, ass grinding back on someone, the next you hunched over a toilet, your knees on the dirty ground, the unsavory sounds of you retching fill up the small room. Somehow you manage to get to your feet, stumbling out of the bathroom into someone, and that's the last thing you remember before coming back to now.

It takes your eyes a moment to adjust to the dim light so that you can gather your surroundings. You're back in your hotel room, you can tell that much by the clothes thrown over the back of one of the chairs, and something is prodding between your legs. Something wet and long.

Peering down you spot see the top of white puffs of white hair, your legs squeeze around, head shifting to go deeper between your legs, drawing out a long moan. Your head doesn't feel fuzzy from just the liquor your drank, but also from the pleasure between your thighs, so it takes you a moment to recognize who is between your legs. 

Satoru's tongue lapping at your folds, circling your clit, it all feels so good. Your hand comes down to dig into his hair, there's really no way of telling you ended up here with him, the dress you'd worn to the club ripped on the ground, along with your panties. And the alcohol clouding your mind doesn't leave you much room for you to think about it.

Your legs squeeze and unsqueeze around your head, your legs stretching over his shoulder, your heel resting in the center of his back. The knot in your belly tightens, feeling as if it's about to snap the more his tongue moves along your wet folds.

"Gonna cum soon, 'Toru," you grumble, your head falling to the side. You feel his fingers draw circles on the thigh of your stretched-out leg while his free hand grips your other thigh. He hums into your folds, the vibrations sending another jolt of pleasure up your spine, your back arching off the bed. 

He comes up for air for a moment, a string of your juices and his spit leaving him connected to your folds, slurring over two words, "Then come." His head drops back between your legs, tongue moving more feverishly, urging you to release over his tongue.

And you do. Your back arches off the bed, your hand pushing him in further between your legs, a strangled moan slipping out of your mouth. Satoru's tongue continues to lap at your folds, overstimulating you while your legs jerk and squeeze around his head. Your entire body goes numb while you climax, tongue lolling along the back of your teeth. 

You let out a whimper while coming down from your high, Satoru's lips wrapped around your clit, sucking tenderly on it. Your mind clears, and you glance back down at him, pushing gently pushing his head, you notice his hips moving against the end of the bed. You giggle, sliding your legs off his shoulders and pulling him up, thoughts still muddled, "Do you always get so needy you end up fucking the bed?"

Satoru presses open-mouthed kisses on your shoulders, making his way up to your lips, breath reeking of alcohol, "Only when the pussy I'm eating is divine."

You smile against his lips before pulling him down. Your tongue and his tangling with each other, your fingers running through his soft white hair. You can taste yourself on his lips, can smell yourself as you deepen the kiss. The scent mixes with the sweet scent that is purely Satoru Gojo. His smell and weight of him are everywhere.

His hands are sliding up your thighs, one hand stopping at your hips while the other continues up towards your bare breast. You feel him pinch one of your nipples, twisting it between his thumb and pointer. Your hand goes from his shoulder down his own body until you feel the curve of his ass, squeezing the muscles in your hand. 

Satoru moans into your mouth, lips leaving yours leaving you chasing after them, "You're naughty," he chuckles, head dropping down into your neck, sucking and biting at the skin. You feel him grinding against your pussy, cock sliding between your folds, head nudging against your swollen clit, your legs coming up to rest on the sides of his waist. 

You let yourself moan freely, your hips rolling back up to sync up with his thrusts. Everything is becoming clearer and fuzzier at the same time, you're sobering up, but the satisfaction you feel shooting up your spine when the head of Satoru's cock bumps against your bud. "Feels so good, 'Toru," you slur, your head dropping on top of his.

"Yeah? Me too," he grunts, glancing down to watch as he slides between your wet folds, running his tongue as he tasted the taste of your juices that lingered on his lips. Satoru suddenly moves away from you, resting up his knees, one arm wrapping around your waist and lifting you, making you yelp, "You've ever sixty-nined before?"

"No," you gasp, your body shifting in his arms as he makes way for the center of the bed.

"Wanna try?" He grins, dropping back on the bed, and already turning you around, too eager to have his lips on your cunt and your mouth wrapped around his cock.

"I um..." you look over your shoulder, watching Satoru situate your legs on either side of his face, the eager look at his face makes your face burn, "I guess," you utter turning back to come face to face with his hard leaky cock. He's long, the head flushed pink, and not very girthy, balls hanging heavy.

You jerk forward when you feel the tip of his nose nudging against your clenching hole. "You smell so good," he mutters, sticking out his tongue to circle your clit, repeating the same motions he had moments earlier.

With a shaky hand, you reach up to hold his length in your hand, whimpering as you feel him swirl his tongue into your clenching walls, sliding down and back up. You lean forward, wrapping your lips around the tip. The hand you used to stroke him with stays on the base of his shaft, your mouth descending along the length until your lips are brushing against your hand. 

Satoru whines against your pussy, muttering dirty words that you can't quite make out over your heavy breathing and choked gags. Your close your eyes when you feel his tongue go down to circle your clit, moaning around his hard cock as he spreads your labia for easier access to your pussy. The vibrations have him bucking up into your mouth, hitting the back while your hollow your cheeks and slowly start bobbing up and down. 

You do your best to fit as much of him as you can down your throat, using your hand on the parts that don't fit in your mouth, gliding it up when you go up. Keeping your lips around the tip a moment longer, tongue licking the pre-cum that oozes out. It tastes oddly sweet, if you didn't know any better you'd assume it was due to all the sweets he consumes, but not that you're going to complain about how it tastes. 

Soon the sound of gagging and slurping fills the walls of the hotel room and the smell of sex penetrates your sense of smell. the back of your thighs starts spasming, and your throat burns from taking Satoru's cock as far down as you can manage. Your whine around his cock, the corners of your eyes stinging from the tears, his hands spread your ass and he watches your untouched hole clench around nothing while he licks your pussy.

He lets go of your cunt with a pop, licking the mess around his lips, fingers circling the rim. You squirm above him, whimpering, and he grins as he watches, "Ever been here?" 

You shake your head, suckling on the head, "Really? It looks like it wants something, it's just begging to have something to squeeze," he teases, pushing a single finger in, groaning when it clenches around it, his lips returning to lick at your hole.

You can feel his tongue and finger sliding in and out of either hole. The sensation pushes closer and closer to the edge and concentrating on sucking on his cock get's harder the more he touches you. You pull him out of your mouth using your hand to stroke him while your head drops onto his thigh.

"Gonna cum soon," you warn, moving your hips back to meet his finger and tongue.

You feel him smile against your wet folds, a second finger joining the one in your ass, "Yeah? Do you like your ass getting fingered that much?" You moan in response, all the words jumbled in your head, "Oh, so you do. Okay then cum all over my tongue while I finger fuck your ass."

His fingers start moving much more quickly, both curving up to drag along the walls of your ass while he eats your cunt out with vigor. You don't last long with the quick rhythm he sets, your release washing over you with no warning. The back of your thighs shake and tremble in Satoru's large hand, sweat dribbling down your temple, and loud moans making the back of your throat burn even more. Your nails dig and scratch on Satoru's thighs, his dick twitching in your other hand due to the pain, before he releases all over it, some of his semen landing on your face. 

The two of you are out of breath by the time you finish coming down from your high, chests rising and falling rapidly, your brain feeling like mush while you watch Satoru's thighs spasm, his cock still semi-hard in your hand. You can hear him mumbling something behind though can't make out what it is, and can feel his fingers pulling out from your ass, slowly sliding down your folds. 

You whimper when you feel your body getting shifted, drool sticking to the side of your cheek. Satoru's flushed face comes into view, and his cock is sliding between your folds. His lips are moving, but you can't make out what he's saying, but you can guess what it is by the way his cock presses against you. So you just nod and watch him grin before he reaches for his pants hanging off the edge of the bed, reaching into a pocket for a small foiled square packet. 

You close your eyes, the hearing returning to your ears, and you can hear him ripping the packet. You feel his hands slide behind, a few seconds passing before you feel him slide the head between your folds once more.

"Ready?" He asks, head already pushing in.

When you speak your voice is dry and hoarse, the back burning from pushing him too far back, "Yeah."

Satoru rubs the high of your cheek, raising his hips to push into your heat, groaning as he does, his eyelids fluttering. "Not going to last long," he whimpers, glancing between your bodies to where he's entering you inch by inch. "You're pussy's so warm and tight," he snickers, his feet getting planted on the bed, "Can you sit up for me?"

You look at him, meekly nodding, using his chest to steady yourself on while you rise, "I think so." You whimper feeling him reach deep inside you. You swear that if you drop down a bit more he'd be fucking his cock directly into your cervix.

"Good girl. No, fuck yourself a bit on my cock," he moans, eyes scanning down every curve of your body. 

Taking a deep breath you raise your hips, sliding halfway up his length before dropping back down, a loud moan falling out from your lips. Satoru's eyes glued on your bouncing breasts. You keep doing it over and over again, your movements have no real rhythm, and your body is tired from the two previous orgasms. And to be honest you don't think you would have been able to handle anything more.

But Satoru has other plans, with his feet already planted on the bed, he moves down at the same time you move up, harshly thrusting up when drop. His balls hit the curve of your ass, and there's a loud clap that bounces off the walls syncing with the loud moan you let out. 

Your body continues to be fucked up into, your brain turning more and more into mush as Satoru keeps hitting that one spot deep inside of you. Your nails dig into his chest, leaving bright red makes. Satoru hisses and moans beneath you, his fingers gripping tightly to the fat at your hips.

Like he said he doesn't last much longer, quickly releasing into the condom while his hand flies down to play with your clit again, wanting to feel your walls release around his cock. And he gets exactly that when you tremble above him before clasping onto him, your breath labored. 

The two of you stay like that for a long time, Satoru's hands drawing circles on the small of your back, the soothing feeling causing your eyes to flutter close. You fall asleep on top of him, engulfed by his warmth. 

You wake up hours later to the sun slipping in through the curtains of your room. A painful pounding in your head and the back of your throat feeling dry. You sit up rubbing your head, groaning while you blindly reach around trying to find the switch to one of the lamps. 

You're body freezes when you feel the warmth of a body next to you. Quickly turning on the lights you find Satoru laying beside you. One arm rests on his bare chest while the other is extended. The sheets of the bed resting low on his hips, giving you a peek of some white hair.

Without thinking, you push him off the bed, letting out a yelp, "What are you doing in here?"

Satoru groans in pain, rubbing the back of his head while he rests his elbows on the bed. His eyes still filled with sleep and his head pounding with a hangover and from pain. "Don't know. Did you really have to push me off the bed?" he mumbles.

Wrapping the bed sheets around your body, you go to the side he's on, lightly kicking him with your feet, "Yes. Now get up and leave."

Satoru groans as your hands continue to push on him, the heels of your hand digging harshly into his back, "I'm getting up, give me a second." He stands to his full height, scanning the room for his clothes while holding the bed sheets he was wrapped in around his hips, "Shouldn't I stay so we can figure out what happened?"

You continue to push him towards the door while he picks up his clothes along the way, feeling knots in your throat, "Well based on our current state and the used condom at the end of the bed, I can make a pretty good guess. What I need you to do is to leave my room before Suguru comes in here asking where you at, and finds us fully naked."

Satoru slumps back onto you, heels digging into the floor, and pouts at the ceiling, "Why are you so worried about him finding out? Are you embarrassed you slept with me?"

"Yes very much so," you reply, panicking while reaching for the doorknob. You manage to open the door, and press both your palms to the small of his back, putting all your strength into pushing him out the door, "Now that you know that leave." Satoru stumbles out the door, crashing into a person who stands directly in front of him, before stumbling back into you. Looking around Satoru's tall frame you see Suguru outside your door, clenched hand in the air.

The three of you stare at each other, Suguru's hand still hovering over Satoru's blank expression. His hand drops to his side while his eyes flutter between you and Satoru, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down.

The seconds that pass feel like hours before he breaks the silence, "We're leaving in an hour." It's the last thing he says before leaving you and Satoru standing awkwardly next to each other.

~

The next four hours in the car drag on, and you're in the backseat again, Suguru driving the car with his jaw clenched and eyes covered by his sunglasses while Satoru sits beside him staring out the car. The air is heavy and tense, none of you talking since before checking out of the hotel. The uncomfortableness travels up your spine, the back of your neck sweating while you sit perfectly still in the center of the back seat. Waiting for Suguru to break the silence, his irritation radiating off of him. 

He isn't the one that breaks the silence though, it's Satoru with a heavy frustrated groan, making you and Suguru jump. He drags his hands over the back of his undercut, sighing as he looks at Suguru, "I can't take this anymore, so say something."

"Like what?" Suguru snares, glaring at the road ahead.

Satoru waves his arms around, "I don't know, like why you're so angry right now."

"Like you don't know why I'm royally pissed at you right now." 

"I do, but it'd be better if you just said it instead of shutting us out," Satoru replies, glancing at you, "What do you want me to say? Sorry for breaking our agreement of not sleeping with y/n," he's tone starts to get sarcastic, "Sorry that I got to her before you did."

You're in the back seat trying to speak, getting ignored as Suguru laughs, "You had an agreement not to sleep with me?"

He speaks over you, glancing at you through the rearview mirror, "Should I tell him or should you?"

"Tell me what?" Satoru asks, his eyes flickering between him and you, eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

You attempt to reason, "Suguru, please stop. You're angry right now, we can talk about this later when we're all calm. It's not that big a deal." 

Suguru laughs, the sound coming from the back of his throat, "Not a big deal? If it wasn't a big deal you wouldn't have tried to keep us from finding out you slept with each of us." 

"Wait, she slept with you? When?" Satoru looks at you for confirmation. 

You swallow and open your mouth to respond, but Suguru beats you to eat. His words are meant to sting, coming out harshly, the corners of his lips curving as he boasts about the first night of the trip, "Oh yeah, she did. The same night she broke up with your uncle at that. You know when you couldn't find us after showering, well we were outside and did it on the hammock before I fucked against a tree and shoved my dick down her throat. Our little friend is a huge fucking slut because apparently cause sleeping with one of her friends wasn't enou-"

You barely see it happening, one moment Suguru is grinning at the street, voice high and proud, the next the car is swerving into the opposite lane, Satoru's fist just having made contact with Suguru's jaw. The car veers back into the correct lane, pulling into the side where he breaks, your body jerking forward. 

"You fucking piece of shit, you could've killed us!" Suguru roars.

"I don't give a damn, take back what you said, right now!"

"What that y/ns a sl-"

"Don't you dare say it again. Take it back or you're going to regret it!"

"What are you going to make me regret it? I want to see you try."

You watch the two of them get out of the car, doors slamming shut as they meet in the front of the car, pushing on each other's chests. You scramble to undo your seat belt, chasing after them. Your heart pounds against your ribs as you watch them start to tackle each other.

"Guys, stop it," Your voice starts low and shaky, the two of them almost bumping into you while they wrestle onto the ground. You follow them, your voice rising as you continue to repeat the same words, begging them to stop. All of your frustration and anger towards the newfound information of their agreement, from being cheated on, and the fact that everyone was keeping something from you, spilling over in one last shout, "I said fucking stop!"

The two of them stop, turning their heads to look at you. Suguru is straddling Satoru, the latter's shirt caught between his fists. Both covered in dirt from head to toe.

"You're both acting like children, scratch that children act better than this! So what if I slept with both of you? I'm free to do whatever I damn please!" you yell, tossing your hands around erratically. You feel very agitated, the blood in your veins burning with anger, "I'm not some object the two of you can fight over. I'm a living and breathing human. If I wanted to be treated like a doll who doesn't feel, or isn't aware of what is happening, I would have stayed back home with the piece of shit I used to call my boyfriend," by this time you have tears running down your cheeks. "I thought the two of you might have been different, but you're just like every other fucking piece of shit man on this damn planet. Fighting and having pissing contests when all you want to do is fuck each other. Oh, cause don't think no one notices the way the two of you look at each other or knows how the two of you have masturbated in the same room multiple times. We all just act like we don't know," you laugh extending your arms to the side, before dropping them down in defeat.

You bite the side of your cheek, fighting to keep the tears from spilling. The two men stare at you, guilt swirling in their chests, in Suguru's more than Satoru's. This entire trip had been one huge mistake. 

"Please open the trunk," you 

"Y/n -" Satoru starts.

"No stop, and open the trunk," you stand your ground, "I'll find a way to get back home."

They both stand, Suguru dusting himself off, while Satoru just looks at you with sad eyes. "Y/n you don't have to go that far, just finish the trip with us."

You seem hesitant, your eyes flickering between them and the closed trunk. With a heavy sigh, you look at both men, "Fine. But you have to tell me about this agreement and we're all going to start acting like adults." The two men nod, shoulders still tense, "Okay then let's finish getting to this beach and getting a hotel cause I'm already tired for the day." 

~

The sun’s peeking over the horizon of the beach, hues of pink and blues decorating the sky when you make your way back from the beach. The air feels much cooler ear near the sea, the breeze coming from the sea cooling the area down for the night.

Glancing over your shoulder you were at the luxurious beachfront hut Suguru had reserved, not that you would call it that when it had electricity. The light pours out from the windows onto the sand along with the sounds of the two men arguing inside.

It had been like this since you arrived, Satoru and Suguru fighting when they thought you weren't anywhere nearby to hear them bickering. Satoru keeps trying to get Suguru to sincerely apologize to you, and Suguru keeps telling him that he doesn't have to do anything he doesn't want to. The two men both fall silent the moment you come into view, a remorseful look washing over Suguru's face while Satoru looks at you with sympathy. It's the same looks they wear right now when you walk back into the small living area. 

"Soo, do I need to sleep with the two of you at the same time to fix this mess?" You half-tease, leaning against the wooden entrance, breathing in the salty scent of the sea while you size both men up, "I'm pretty sure I could take you both."

Suguru jaw tenses and he exhales through his nose, "Y/n, don't even start. Be serious right now."

You push yourself up, stalking toward Satoru, "What? I am being serious. It's not like I haven't already seen what your both packing and if it's the only way to make the two of you stop arguing well...I don't mind." You tilt back to look at Satoru, putting your hand near his lower abdomen and gently pushing back onto the couch behind him before straddling his lap, the skirt of your dress extending around you.

Satoru looks up at you, swallowing down the fact that he's getting turned on by your sudden closeness, knowing that this is not truly the road you want to go down. Though you're seated on him your attention is on the man behind him, your eyes showing nothing but determination. He calls your name once to get your attention, large hands resting on your hips, "Y/n, please don't do anything you'll regret. This isn't what you really want."

You look down at him, swallowing down hard, and reach for one of his hands, pulling off your hips. "You sure?" You question, dragging his hand beneath your skirt, directing his long fingers to your bare cunt so he can feel your pussy getting wet.

"Fuck," he breathes under his breath, leaving his fingers playing with your folds when you let go and look back at Suguru who stays frozen in his spot. You keep eye contact while slowly grinding down on Satoru's fingers, moaning when he slides two fingers in and buries his head into your chest, nipping at the tops of your breasts.

You finally challenge Suguru when Satoru tugs the straps of your dress down, freeing your breasts, "You gonna stand there and watch?" Your eyes fly down to the tent in his swimming trunks, "Doesn't seem like that would be much fun."

Suguru visibly struggles, turmoil swimming in his dark eyes. You that even though he's angry with you right now for sleeping with both him and Satoru back to back, he also has a need for you both. You're not surprised when moves towards you, uttering under his breath, "Fucking hell, can't believe I'm actually doing this."

Grinning up at him, you rub the bulge he's sporting, holding him in your hand through his shorts, "You're fucking hard." He doesn't respond just looks down at you with lust dazed eyes, watching as you ride Satoru's fingers. 

You tug the waistband of his pants down, listening to them drop down to the floor, his cock springing free. Not a moment is wasted, the moment it slaps against his stomach, your lips are wrapping around the head, easing it into your mouth. Suguru curses above you, his hand coming up to rest on the back of your head, pushing you down. The words he said the other night come to mind as you feel tears start to prick the corners of your eyes from taking too much too quickly.

"I think this time, I'll make you gag and cry all over my cock," he groans, using both hands to force himself to the very back of your throat, blocking the airflow and forcing you to breathe in through your nose. 

It hurts and stings, the sounds of your gagging have Satoru's fingers stopping to look at you to make sure you're okay. If he goes off the lewd you face your making and the new slick that starts to drench his fingers, he'd say that choking on a cock was exactly what you wanted. And so he turns back to what he was doing, kissing along your neck and stretching your cunt out for him and Suguru to use, fingers easily sliding in and out with the slick your produce.

Suguru pulls you off his cock meanwhile, enjoying the view of the tears that decorate the corners of your eyes and the way your lips have gotten swollen. He takes pleasure in the way you're gasping for air, your expression already morphing into that of a fucked out face. 

He takes his cock in his hand and rubs it along the curve of your lips, waiting for you to recover your breathing. "Did you like choking on my cock?" He asks, slapping the head on your mouth and cheek. 

Your answer gets muffled when he moves forward, slapping the entire length of your face, the corners of your lips curving upwards. "Yes, I did. Oh god, right there, 'Toru."

Suguru scoffs when he hears his friends slip from your lips while his cock is on them, he peers down around to find Satoru has two fingers in your cunt, and his thumb in your ass. His eyes shift back to you, the moans you're letting out engraving themselves in his brain before he inserts his cock back into your throat, thrusting into it over and over.

Your cheeks hollow out, head starts to bob up and down in time with his thrusts, throat constricting around him, and moans vibrating along his shaft and up his spine. The sounds of your pussy and slurps from your mouth fill the small living space of the hut, anyway walking by wouldn't have to think much about what was happening just beyond the thin curtain that obscured their view.

Suguru feels himself twitch in your mouth, the coil in his belly tightening, about to snap. He pulls you off quickly, cursing under his breath while trying to keep his orgasm from washing over him, taking in the fucked expression you wear. It takes him a moment to recover his breathing, eyes squeezing shut, the moans you let out while Satoru fingers you louder. But when he's done, he's pulling off Satoru's lap, standing you up and pushing on your shoulders, "On your knees." Doing as your told, you drop on your knees in front of him, your eyes fluttering towards Satoru, watching him pull his shorts down and throw them somewhere. Long cock bobbing while he makes his way towards you, standing shoulder to shoulder with Suguru. Both their cocks are right in front of your face, Suguru's hand reaching to guide your hand to both, his voice is commanding when he speaks, "You said you could please us both, so do it using just this pretty small hand."

You swallow taking their in your hand, struggling to hold both of them as you slide them up and down. Your thumb brushes against Suguru's head, causing him to hiss and buck his hips. Salvia forms in your mouth as your watch pre-cum leak out of its slits, serving as a lubricant for your hand. Holding them like this you can see the clear difference in their sizes. 

"You both have such pretty cocks," you praise, looking up, the sight above you sending an extra jolt of pleasure between your legs, arousal seeping from your cunt.

Both men are kissing, tongues tangling with one another while their teeth clash. Their hands on the other face while their lips move against one another, their hips rolling into your hand. You can hear the soft whimper Satoru lets out, his face and ears flushed red, excessive pre-cum coating your hand. You keep your eyes on them while leaning forward to lick it all up, their whines and groans sounding like music to your ears.

If anyone had told you that you would be watching your closest friends make out, that you would end up in a threesome with them, you would've sent that person to hell. 

You feel both of them twitching in your hand, and you're almost scared to ask in case the scene above you disappears, "Are you both gonna cum?"

Suguru shakes his head, speaking between kisses, "Not yet...just need to fucking piss...'Toru too." His hand comes down to join yours in touching his friend's cock, his fingers concentrating on the head.

"Should we stop then?" 

"No...just keep going," he replies glancing down at you from the corner of his eye.

You blink up at him, a newfound feeling forming in the pit of your belly when it clicks on exactly what he's planning to do. You continue to watch them kiss, your hand sliding up and down, while you occasionally take one of them into your lips, swirling your tongue on the tip.

Satoru is the first to start peeing, lucky for you your mouth is wrapped around Suguru's cock when he starts. The warm liquid hits your shoulder, surprising you. You quickly pull off Suguru, head turning to look at Satoru, his piss hitting the bottom of your chin, he apologizes to you, eyes squeezed shut while he ruts into your and Suguru's hands.

Suguru follows right after, his hand coming down to tear yours off his cock, so that he can get a better aim at your face. It's embarrassing the way heat pools between your legs while you get pissed on. Marked as theirs by the scent. They both come a moment after, their cum coating and mixing in with the liquid that drips down your body. The muscles of their thighs twitch.

"Fuck that felt good," Suguru moans, pushing a dazed Satoru towards the curtain that hides a single bed, reaching down to pull you up, leading you towards the same bed, "Ready for more?" 

Satoru settles back on the bed and stretches out his arms to pull you into him, not minding the wetness. He presses a kiss to your temple and below your ear, whispering, "You did so good for us. You're such a good girl."

You smile against him, feeling the bed shift under Suguru's weight. His hands coming up your ass, spreading your cheeks apart, lathering your slick over your folds. 

"Wanna share?" He asks Satoru, slipping one finger into your walls, watching the way your pussy reacts. Both men speak as if you aren't there.

"Aren't we already sharing?"

"Yeah, but I meant to you want to share the same hole?"

"Like that one time?"

"Yeah."

Suguru leans down, his chin resting on your shoulder, "What do you think, y/n? Think you can take us both in your pretty little pussy. Wanna feel us both stretching out your naughty hole?"

You stare at him, blinking, you never thought that something like that was possible. "Will they both fit?"

His fingers slide out, spreading your slick to your clit, "Yeah, we've done it before...most girls seem to like it."

"Yeah?" you ask, nuzzling closer to Satoru, your walls clenching around nothing.

"Yeah, some of them squirt, so who knows maybe you will too."

Swallowing down you nod your head, you still have reservations, but your curiosity of what it feels to have two cocks stretching you outweighs them, "Okay then, I think I'll try."

"Good girl."

"Fuck."

They position the heads of their cocks at your entrance, both slowly start to push into you, you whimper at the stretch, you don’t think it's a feeling you could ever really get used to. The stretch of just their tips has you wondering how you are going to fit both of them in one hole when you already felt so full.

You both let out groans as they push inch by inch, waiting for them to bottom out.

You can feel the tip of Satoru's cock brush against your cervix, whimpering into his neck when you feel him twitch against it, "Too deep."

Suguru curves his body over yours, one hand sliding down between your bodies to play with your clit and Satoru's balls, his lips brushing against the other man's lips, "You can take it."

It's the last thing he says to you before he starts rolling his hips into you, Satoru whimpering against his lips, overwhelmed by the drag of his friend's dick against his and your warm pussy walls. 

Suguru's thrusts are rough, his pelvis slapping against the curve of your ass, his hands gripping your hips, keeping you in place. It's all too much for you and Satoru, your eyes and his rolling into the back of your head while your loud moans bounce off the walls of the room. Drool slips out the corners of your lips, landing on Satoru's tongue sticks out. You can feel them both twitching inside of you.

They release inside you at the same time, their semen mixing, painting your insides white. The same white that flashes behind your eyelids when you cum around them. An odd feeling washes over you, a feeling that is similar to when you pee,

"Fuck we really did make her squirt," you hear one of them say before everything turns black.

You're not out for long, but when you come back to, Satoru is on top of you, hard cock still inside of you. His hips jerking into you, strangled whimpers falling from his swollen lips. His blue eyes find yours, and he whines, rolling into you, "You're back, thought we lost you for a second." Another moan falling from his lips before you can answer.

You scrunch your eyebrows and peer over his shoulder. Suguru's head coming into view. You see his large hands holding Satoru's ass apart, his tongue lapping at his friend's hole. Lips wrapping around the muscle, loud slurping sounds reach your ears. Your cheeks burn at the sight, pussy clenching around Satoru's cock.

"Don't don't do that or am going to cum," he groans, his hand coming up to knead your breast.

The bed shifts again, Suguru's face popping up over Satoru's shoulder, "Morning sleepy head, I thought you'd miss the rest of the fun.

"What do you mean?" You croak.

"Just watch Satoru's face," Suguru tells you before disappearing from your view.

You turn to look at Satoru with a confused look, just in time to watch his jaw fall slack and a pained moan slip from his lips, his hips getting pushed into you, causing the same reaction to wash over you. You struggle to tear your gaze from Satoru's face and look back over his shoulder, watching Suguru push the head of his length into Satoru's ass. 

You watch Satoru's face twist in pain and pleasure as Suguru pushes more of his length into Satoru. Moaning when he twitches in your cunt, his hips subtly rolling into you and back into Suguru. His eyelids flutter closed when he bottoms out, "Shit."

Suguru sets the pace, slowly at first, his hips barely separating from Satoru's ass, whose cock keeps twitching against your softness every time he rolls his hips into your hips. The rhythm steadily increases until there are soft palps of Suguru's ass meeting the curve of Satoru's ass, who is rutting into you, his hand coming down to stimulate your clit. 

All three of you are moaning and whimpering. Lost in the pleasure that blankets your connected bodies. By the end of it all, you're all sweaty and tired. Both men fast asleep on either side of you before you even realize it's all over. Before you even realize the shift your relationship has taken

Everything will be different tomorrow. A bigger shift in your relationship with them that could either bring you apart or closer. But you can deal with all that's changed in the morning. Right now all you want is a good night's rest.

© Copyright 2023. Dearestgojo. All rights reserved.

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[viking-raider]

Sy's Therapy Barn

Summary: Austin Syverson is newly retired from the Army and struggling to cope with his PTSD. Until he decides to take a chance on a hobby, most wouldn't think could help, and the person there to help teach him how to do it.

Pairing: Syverson/Reader

Word Count: 5k

Rating: M - Quick-Burn, Language, Angst, Fluff, Mentions of PTSD, Combat Fatigue, Trauma, Wine drinking, Flirting, Support System, Movie Quotes, Leap of Faith, Mentions (but no depictions) of Mental Illness, Domestic Violence, Alcoholism, SMUT - Light, P in V

Inspiration: I saw this Instagram video of a handsome, buff gentleman that ran a pottery business and promoted it on the site.

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoyed it. I am so sorry to any Pottery people for butchering it.

Syverson wouldn't lie, even though he had thought the hobby was stupid, the first time he thought about it. But, upon seeing a poster at an outdoor market he had decided to attend one, warm Dallas weekend, to get out of the house. Something inside of Sy had urged him to save the number in his phone, before finding the ale stand.

It wasn't until almost a month later, after waking up in the dead of night. He laid curled up in a ball, hugging his knees and struggling to breath. With the blankets and pillows thrown off the king-sized bed, and the black fitted sheet beneath him drenched in his sweat. Aika pressed against his back and whimpering at her owner's distress. It was then that Sy knew he needed something more, other than just denial, the gun range and booze to deal with his PTSD and Combat Fatigue.

He wasn't about to go sit down on some squeaky metal, folding chair, in the basement of some random religious church, listening to other Vets talk about their combat experience. Everyone nodding their heads and offering sympathy and the Word of God. Sy had stopped believing in God over a decade ago. Because, how could some magical man in the sky, with some grand plan for you, before and after you died, allow such bullshit evil into the world.

He didn't want sympathy, far from it.

Austin Syverson, also didn't do sympathy.

So, he pulled up the number from the outdoor market and gave the business a call.

“Mini's Pottery Haven, how can I help you?” A cheery voice chimed on the other end.

Sy let out a hard breath. “Hi, I saw your poster at a market, a couple weeks ago, for a pottery class.” He said, rubbing a palm over his buzzed head, feeling stupid for calling a pottery business, thinking it would help him, in any way, with his trauma. “I was wondering, if you're still doing classes?”

“Yes, we are!” She confirmed, happily. “We have one tonight, with two spots left, if you'd like to join it.”

“Oh!” Sy started, surprised, not expecting one so soon, hoping for a day to work up the nerve to call her back and cancel. “How much is it?”

“Thirty dollars, for just one person, and sixty dollars for a couple.” She informed him, pressing her phone to her ear and bringing up the planner on her computer. “You can pay when you arrive at the class.” She added, distractedly.

Sy paced his kitchen for a moment, before pausing and straightening his back. “I'll take one of the spots and pay the thirty, when I arrive.”

“Excellent! Can I have your name, please?”

“Syverson.” He answered, out of pure habit.

“All right, we look forward to seeing you tonight, and what you create!” She told him, her voice upbeat and optimistic, like she expected Sy to be the next Michelangelo, before hanging up.

“The boys would lose their shit, if they ever find out I tried pottery.” Sy said, stuffing his phone into the front pocket of his jeans.

Later that night, Sy found himself standing out front of the humble, little pottery shop, the full window front was bright from the lights inside, which was flowing with people, all standing around chatting with each other and holding glasses of wine.

“At least, they have booze.” Sy commented to himself.

“First time?” A soft voice asked, from behind him.

“Huh?” He frowned, turning around to find a gorgeous woman standing behind him, a large bag slung over her shoulder, as she regarded him with a kind expression. “Oh, yeah. You?” He asked, trying to be polite.

“Naw, I've been getting my hands messy with clay for years.” You smiled at him, patting your bag. “I assume you're here for the class.” You asked, motioning towards the shop.

“I am.” Sy nodded, licking his lips. “Just working up the nerve to go inside.” He explained to you.

“Ah, yeah. We pottery nerds can be dangerous.” You teased, smirking up at him. “You make one reference to Ghost in there and they'll turn you into a clay mold. If not, pelt you out of the shop with lumps of it.” You giggled, moving by him to step up onto the curb and grab the door handle.

A laugh rumbled out of Sy's broad chest, a genuine smile spreading across his face. “I'll make sure to keep the Ghost quotes to myself then.” He said, turning his sparkling blue eyes towards you.

“Well, no time like the present.” You told him, pulling the door open and holding it for him.

“That's true.” He nodded, his smile softly fading as he joined you on the sidewalk, stopping beside you for a moment. “Thanks for the pep talk.” He said, giving you a gentle nod, before going inside.

The place was a buzz with voices as he paused by the counter, taking out his wallet to pay for his admission for the night's class. He glanced over his shoulder to see where you'd gone, but you had vanished somewhere into the crowd. Shrugging, figuring you'd paid in advance or had some sort of membership, he handed over his bank card to Mini, the owner of the business, who was a sweet looking, elderly woman, dressed in a loose and colorful, bohemian strap dress. Taking his card and the Hello, My Name Is: sticker she handed back with it, Sy turned away, spotting the small wine station, also surrounded by numerous black sharpies. He headed over, scribbling Sy, on his sticker and poured himself a glass of some kind of red wine, before finding somewhere quiet to stand, to wait for the class to start.

As he stood there, sipping his wine and looking at a wall of finished clay figurines, cups and other knick knacks, he felt a pair of eyes on him. Clearing his throat, he glanced sideways, figuring you were checking him out, which he was more than fine with. But he discovered it was another woman giving him eye-candy. She was tall, with bleach-blonde hair and in a hot-pink tracksuit, she felt out of place for a pottery shop. Though, Sy knew he shouldn't be one to speak, standing there in a Lynyrd Skynyrd t-shirt, that had been to war with him, tight blue jeans, a pair of cowboy boots, with a black stetson cowboy hat.

The way she lifted her wine glass, however, suggested she wanted to jump his bones.

Which only amused the retired Army Captain.

“All right, ladies and gentleman!” Mini called, clapping her hands together and coming around the counter to regard her customers. “If we can all head towards the other end of the shop, where all the potter's wheels and everything are. We can start the class.” She smiled, motioning everyone to the back.

Everyone moved to the back in a messy, single-file line, still sipping the rest of their wine and chatting with each other. The woman in the pink tracksuit lagging back to walk with Sy, fluttering her lashes at him.

“Ma'am.” He acknowledged her, touching the brim of his hat, but didn't give her much else.

“What's a man like you doing in a pottery class?” She asked, biting the corner of her lip.

Sy licked his lips. “I got nothing better to do.” He said, not willing to admit the real reason he was there to her.

“I'm sure a big, strong, handsome man like you could find something to do.” She insinuated, fluttering her lashes at him.

“Pottery is just fine, thanks.” Sy replied, offering her a weak smile.

“Everyone, please find a pottery wheel and it doesn't matter which one.” Mini said, motioning to the dozen or so pottery wheels in a circle, a round lump of clay already waiting on them to be shaped.

Sy waited until almost everyone was seated, not wanting to take the chance of getting stuck sitting next to the woman hitting on him, far from that mood tonight. So, taking up a pottery wheel and grabbing the provided apron, he took off his hat and set it on a shelf behind his wheel, and slipped on the apron. Sy chuckled, sitting down on the comically small stool before the wheel, as he balanced his large, muscular body on it, smirking up at the rest of the group; seeing some of them sit on the stool like they'd done it a million times and others wobble.

“The first thing we're going to do, before we start shaping our clay,” Mini began explaining, sitting at wheel herself, apron on and perched on her stool, like the forty-plus year pottery maker she was. “is to assign our first timers, helpers. I will be giving instructions and so forth, but your helper will be there for you, just in case you need a refresher or get frustrated.” She told the group, looking around at everyone. “But just remember, just like us, human beings, we are all unique and beautiful. It doesn't matter how many times your clay refuses to shape into what your mind's eye thinks it should, or tears apart, or even if it doesn't bake right in the kiln. It is still beautiful! You still brought it into this world with your own two hands, and you should be proud of that. Because it's something no one else in this room did.”

Sy blinked at her, slightly taken aback by her statement. So used to Army instructors drilling into him about, if it's not perfect, you're dead or your buddy next to you, is.

“So, helpers, I'll let you pick your person. You've all worked here before, so you know how to identify them.”

“And how do you do that?” Someone blurted out, making Mini and the helpers chuckle.

“Well, that's one way for us to find you.” One of the helpers quipped in an Australian accent, moving across the room to said person. “But, it's the name tags, mate, or Ryan, I should say.” He smirked, offering out his hand to the newcomer. “I'm Joel.”

“Those of us here that don't have a name tag, are old pros.” Mini smiled, resting her forearms on the edge of her potter's wheel, while the rest of the helpers spread out.

“Good to see you made it all the way into the building.”

Sy looked over his shoulder and grinned up at you. “Yeah, I had a little bit of help.” He replied, glad, and a bit surprised, to see you were one of the helpers.

“Well, you're about to get some more help.” You said, glancing at his name tag. “Sy.”

He felt a lump lodge in his throat as you said his name. “That's great.” He rasped back. “I'm going to need it. These hands have only known how to do one thing, for the last twenty years.” He told you, holding up his calloused mitts.

“Oh, you got good hands for clay shaping.” You said, taking one of them in both of yours. “I'm sure we can teach these pups a new trick or two.”

“Can you teach this ol' pup any?” Sy asked, smiling at you.

“I might.” You nodded, pulling a stool up beside him. “Let's listen to Mini first, then we can find out what you want to make that clay into.” You told him, giving him an encouraging smile, that cracked open the door to a place he had tried to keep shut.

“Everyone have their partner?” Mini asked, looking around, then nodded. “Good! Now, you're going to learn your proper posture for molding.” She began, leaning forward and started her instruction for the next several minutes.

“Christ, I don't know if I can remember all that.” Sy said, blowing out a breath and shaking his head at his mound of clay. “I'm just a simple country boy, fresh out of the Army.”

You giggled beside him, lightly patting him on the back. “That's why you got me.” You reminded him, sweetly. “Now, what do you want to make? And, I swear if you say a dildo, I will get up and leave.” You warned him, seriously.

“Have people actually asked you that?” He frowned, cocking his head at you.

“Yes, more often than you might think.” You huffed, shaking your head. “I'll make anything else though.”

“To be honest with you,” Sy started, frowning down at the clay and shaking his head. “I don't know what to make. I've never been the artistic type. I always failed art class back in school.”

“Well, that's the wonder of art, and clay for that matter, Sy.” You told him, softly. “You can make whatever you want. You don't need to be artsy for it. What's the first thing that comes to your mind? Anything at all.”

“My dog.” He blurted out, biting his lip, feeling silly for it.

“All right, what about a dog bowl?” You suggested, tossing out the first dog related thing that came to your mind.

“Could we make a bowl?” Sy asked, looking over at you.

“Absolutely!” You nodded, grinning. “If you wanna make a bowl for your doggo, then we'll make one. I'll use all ten years of my clay making experience to help.”

“All right, a bowl for Aika, it is.” Sy nodded back, inspired.

“That's a sweet name.” You commented, watching Sy position himself, much as Mini instructed, then drizzle a little bit of water onto the clay and cup it in his large hands, almost hiding it completely in his palms as he started to work the wheel with his foot. “Good, that's a great speed. Keep it up. Little less pressure though.” You reminded him, watching the clay start to pancake a bit.

“Sorry.” He apologized, letting off on it.

“You're all right.” You answered, shaking your head. “So, what made you try out pottery?” You asked, reaching out, instinctively, to add a little more water.

Sy was quiet for a long moment, playing with and shaping his clay, watching the thick residue from it cover his fingers and palms. While trying to find a way to answer. He could give you the same answer he'd given the pink tracksuit lady or he could be honest. Spying you from the corner of his eye, he noticed you weren't waiting for a reply, not being pushy or intrusive. You had simply asked him the question and given him the space to answer it, when and if he wanted to with no hard feelings.

It was a breath of fresh air to him, just like feeling the wet clay in his hands. Knowing he was creating something, not harming it.

“I was hoping it would help me,” He finally answered you, licking his lips, deciding to be honest. “With my combat PTSD.” He added softer, waiting for your reaction.

“It can be quite calming.” You admitted, no ill reaction on your face. “It can also be rather frustrating.” You chuckled, with a smirk. “I about tossed the piece I was working on this morning, when one of the sides collapsed on me. I'd only been working on it for six hours.”

“Six hours!” Sy exclaimed, sitting back to look at you more steadily.

“You suffer for the art sometimes.” You told him, with amusement at his expression. “But, it's well worth it in the end. Most of the time, at least.”

“Christ, I hope this doesn't take that long.” He said, looking down at the weirdly shaped, almost oblong bit of clay on his wheel.

You looked around the room, before leaning close to Sy. “I think you're wonderful, Oda Mae.” You whispered into his ear, so none of your friends could hear you, knowing the complaints they'd give you for the reference after the class.

A huge smile crossed Sy's face and he howled with laughter, catching everyone's attention.

“I crack a good joke, we all know it!” You told them, grinning with guilt.

“I like you.” Sy said, once everyone's attention went back to their own station. “You're the first person that's made me laugh, like that, since I came home on retirement from the Army. A year ago.”

“Oh yeah?” You grinned, feeling a hot rush through your body that wasn't the glass of wine you had earlier. “Well, if you think I can crack a good joke, you'll see how good of a pottery teacher I am.”

“You take any students?” Sy blurted out, before he knew what he was thinking.

You floundered, mouth hanging open. “Um, no.” You admitted, shocked he'd asked, then saw the light start to fade in his blue eyes. “But I could consider it.” You said, quickly. “Especially if it helps you cope with your PTSD.”

“I think it just might.” He proclaimed, finding himself smitten with both pottery and you.

You laughed, throwing up your arm as Sy flicked the wet clay on his fingers at you. “Austin!” You tried to duck the mucky droplets as they splattered all over your apron, the side of your arm, face and hair, still giggling.

“You were looking a bit dry over there!” He guffawed, grinning at you. “What the heck, are you shapin', anyhow?” He asked, balancing himself back on his stool and eyeing your kaolin clay, seeing the strange, cup-like shape you had going.

“I don't really know.” You sighed, shrugging your shoulders at the grayish-yellow clay before you. “I'm just trying to understand it, and make something. That will hopefully not crack in the kiln. If I ever get around to firing it.” You told him, leaning forward again, feeling the soreness in your lower spine and forearms from working in that position for so long. “What about you?” You asked, cocking a brow at Sy, without looking away from what you were starting to consider your Frankenstein.

“Another ceramic grenade cup.” You smirked, curving your thumb into the center of the clay. “Or, what was that tea pot you made?” You asked, giggling as you recalled pulling the craft out of the kiln.

“I don't want to talk about it.” Sy replied, sounding disgruntled.

You laughed, nodding your head. “That's right, it was supposed to be a turt—Austin!” You shrieked, as his big, wet clay covered mitt swiped across your face. “Oh my god!”

“It was nothing, woman.” He huffed at you, with mischievous eyes, as he sat back down. “But I do have a question for you, babe.”

“Oh?” You replied, standing up to wipe the streak off your face before it dried.

“I was thinking,” He paused for a moment, chewing on his bottom lip as he continued to work his clay. “I still have a large chunk of my retirement payment from the Army, just sitting in my bank account.” He said, scowling as one side of the clay started to collapse.

“All right.” You nodded, staring down at him, as you stood between your two pottery wheels in the garage of Sy's house, situated on the ten acres he owned.

“I've been considering,” He licked his lips and sat back, to look up at you, wanting to see your face when he said aloud what had been on his mind for the last year and a half. “I want to open up my own shop.”

You blinked at him a couple times, processing his words. “Your own pottery shop?” You asked for clarification.

“Yeah, I want to open a pottery barn, to help Vets, like myself. Hell, to help anyone with PTSD or trauma. It helped me through so many nights of episodes and flashbacks.” He explained to you, babbling out the idea that had been swirling around him, and looked back up. “You helped me.” He whispered quietly, before shaking his head and squeezing the clay on his wheel.

“It's a stupid idea.”

Watching him destroy the piece he'd just spent the last hour and a half working on, stung you, but it hurt you more to hear him say his idea was stupid. You thought it was incredible. That it was so thoughtful and sweet of him to want to share a hobby that had given him so much in the last two years.

You were flattered to be a part of that journey with him, as well.

Your big bear.

“I think it's a terribly-” You sat down in his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. “good idea, Austin Syverson.” You declared, kissing him lovingly. “And if I hear anyone say otherwise, I'll pelt them with wet clay, until they think it is.”

A bright smile pulled across Sy's face as he rested his chin on your shoulder. “So, you'll come be my first employee?” He asked, nosing the side of your neck, smelling your perfume mixed with the earthy scents of pottery, tinged with a light sheen of sweat from how warm it was in the garage.

“Oh, I'm going to work for you, am I?” You cooed, amused. “What position, do I get?”

“Hmm.” He hummed, pressing his lips to your skin. “How about the head of pottery?”

“What's your job going to be?” You asked, eyes fluttering shut.

“I'm the boss.” He chuckled, tugging on your ear. “I'll have a bunch of jobs. But there's no one I trust more than you, with all your infinite wisdom of pottery, to run that area.” He told you, his hands pushing under your tank top. “I do only have two years of experience, compared to your thirteen.”

“Oh, laying it on thicker than a glaze, Captain.” You purred, feeling his fingers leave trails of drying clay on the skin of your back. “But I do like the sound of it. Do I get to boss you around during classes?” You asked, cupping the back of his head in your palm and rubbing the short hair there with your thumb, while your other hand dripped to the strings of his camouflage apron.

Sy smirked, giving your neck a sharp bite and making you gasp. “You boss me around already.”

“I do not!” You huffed, with an amused flash in your eyes, pushing his head back to look up at you.

“Whatever you say, my darling.” He replied, blue eyes sparkling.

“That's what I thought.” You smirked, kissing the bridge of his nose.

Pulling his hands from your tank top and gripping you by the hips, Sy pushed you up and pulled your legs across his lap, so you straddled him. You moaned at the straining bulge in his black sweatpants, pressing down against it through your short-shorts, sucking lightly on your bottom lip.

“What are we calling your little pottery business?” You hummed, reaching between your bodies to slip into the waistband of his sweats, finding his thick manhood and gliding your hand along it, drawing out a shivering sigh out from him.

“I don't know.” He rasped, clawing at your hips and the band of your shorts, leaving red marks in their wake. “Maybe, Sy's Therapy Barn or something.” He puffed, losing focus on the idea of running a business and growing more interested in tearing your shorts and underwear off.

“I like it.” You nodded, slipping off his lap, smiling at his hands grabbing to bring you back, but stood and took your shorts and panties off, before straddling his thick thighs again. “Rolls of the tongue and easy to remember.” You told him, taking his burning shaft in your hand, stroking him firmly as you guided him towards your glistening entrance.

“Mmhm.” Sy mumbled, his mouth latching onto your collarbone. “Whatever you say, babe.”

You chuckled, caressing your free hand over his head and gripped his shoulder, using it as leverage to sink down onto him, with a soft sigh and leaning forward to rest your forehead against his.

“I love you, Syverson.”

“Ditto.” He rumbled back, wrapping his arms around you and locking you against him.

“Welcome to Sy's Therapy Barn!” You grinned as a man came through the door, the bell above it chiming through the building, his ripped muscles making the fabric of his Under Armor shirt scream, his tattooed arms showing below the short sleeves. “Are you here for the classes or to look about?” You asked, motioning around the grand shop with beaming pride.

You and Sy had found a thousand square foot warehouse, filling it with all your pottery and therapy needs and dreams. Sy had even decided to go to school and become a licensed therapist, allowing him to help the people coming into the Therapy Barn better. While they got their hands cupped around the little mounds of clay, during your classes, so they could shape it into whatever their minds wanted or needed.

Part of the warehouse was set up with kilns of all sizes and kinds, tall and wide shelves to hold pour molds and drying creations. While another section was where you and Sy held the classes for the therapy groups, either for former or active Combat Service people or, those who Sy referred to as Regulars, members of the public who hadn't served. All of them there to try and remedy their PTSD, trauma, depression, loss, domestic violence or anything else along those lines.

People that didn't require therapy were also welcome, of course.

But the two of you catered to those in need specifically, and so far, business was booming. Sy had gone to the several local Veteran Centers in the Dallas area with fliers promoting the business's program, as well as the VFW Canteens and posting on the internet. Even calling some of his old comrades. Sy had been worried and a bit skeptical with your first pottery class, sure that no one was going to show up to it. However, when the time rolled around, the bell above the front door started dinging with customers, most of them were middle aged or elderly, but there were several your and Sy's age, looking apprehensive.

It made you smile to see that look on their face, it was the exact expression you'd seen on Sy's face, that night you met in the parking lot of Mini's Pottery Barn, before he discovered the magic of forming clay. You always looked forward to seeing it change into the wonder of how amazing it is, to see your brave Captain use his fresh Bachelor's Degree to help them work through the same struggles he had. The struggles you had woken up at one or two in the morning, to find Sy in the garage, in nothing, but the shorts he'd gone to bed in, hunched over his pottery wheel, his muscles tight and teeth gritted, but his hands cupped gently around the piece of clay he was working. Trying to chase away whatever he had been awoken by.

“I'm here for the class, with Dr. Syverson.” He replied, looking around uneasily, like he expected a bomb to go off in one of the teapots you'd crafted and had on sale in the front window of the shop.

“That's great!” You grinned at him, trying to be open and encouraging towards him. “The class will start in ten minutes. You can either take a seat or have a look around. There's coffee, tea and water on the table with some cupcakes and snicker-doodle cookies, so help yourself.”

“No booze.” He mumbled, eyeing the table.

“No,” You answered, giving him an emphatic look. “Some of our potter's are recovering and sober, so we don't offer it.” You explained to him, glancing over at one of your regulars with a nod. “To repress the urge to relapse.”

He looked at you for a moment. “That's—actually, very thoughtful of you.” He said, blinking as it came over him.

“We do our best.” Sy said, appearing from the back. “Pleasure to meet ya.” He offered his hand to the other man. “Captain Syverson, 1st battalion, 3rd SFG(a). Also Dr. Austin Syverson, the co-owner of this here Therapy Barn.” He introduced himself, always giving his classifications to the Vets, knowing how at ease it made them and started that thread of a bond with him.

“Pleasure to meet you, Captain.” He replied, shaking Sy's hand. “Lieutenant Daniel Burton, 3rd recon battalion, for the Marines.”

“Well, it's good to meet you, Lieutenant.” Sy nodded, then smiled over at you, his hand moving to rest on the small of your back. “I'm sure my fiancee has given you the introduction to our business.”

“That she has.” Daniel nodded, giving you a kind smile. “Though, I'll admit, I'm a little apprehensive as to how this is going to help me get straightened out. I watched some videos on pottery on Youtube and it just doesn't seem like much.”

You and Sy looked at each other, a smile and knowing look on each other's faces.

“It seems that way. I thought the same thing, myself, at first.” Sy confessed, a winking at you. “But, all you have to do is take all your emotions. All your pain, all your love, all your passion and all your rage and work it into that bit of clay we give you on that pottery wheel and the rest comes with it.”

You looked at Sy, it had become a thing between the two of you, and in doing so, that line had become his motto. It had become part of the business's motto, and few people actually caught the reference. But that was all right. The two of you still got through to people in the end. Saving them from their dark past through horrible movie quotes, a man that took a chance on a hobby and your skill with moving clay, sculpting a life and a business out of it.

#henry cavill #henrycavill #viking-raider fics #Syverson #cpt syverson #syverson fanfiction #syverson x you #syverson x reader #captain syverson #syverson smut #syverson fluff #captain syverson x reader #Syverson/You #Syverson/Reader #Sand Castle #Fluff #Angst #Sy's Therapy Barn #Sy's Therapy Barn *Fic*

[absurdthirst]

Kinktober 2023: October 11th

Day 11: Body Hair/Shaving, Exhibitionism/Voyeurism, Teasing

Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: Outdoor sex, public sex, riding, exhibitionism, vaginal sex, dirty talk

|| Kinktober List || MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

“Oh fuck,” you head rolls back, leaning aginst his shoulder and your hand covers the large one at your breast. Trying to roll your hips at the same time. The feeling of his cock inside you is perfect, thick and throbbing. Hitting perfectly at the leaned back angle of the heavy duty camping chair that he is sitting in. 

In front of the fire, the nip of the air around you is not as biting as it could be without the crackle and pop of the flame. Especially since your eager, horny husband had stripped you down to your socks and that was it. 

“Baby.” You whimper, feeling his teeth grazing your neck and making you shiver as he squeezes your tit. “They are gonna come back.” You warn him. 

The boys had been here, Will, Benny and Pope. Quickly drinking through the beer you had and all deciding that they were going to run down the street to the store to pick up some more. While the guys could be gone for some time, they could also be back any minute. 

“So?” He grunts, rocking his hips up to push his cock deeper. “Let them watch.” His own tongue is always looser when he’s tipsy and he has knocked back quite a few while bullshitting with the boys. 

Your eyes widen when you feel the way that he twitches inside you at his own suggestion. Bumping against your g-spot perfectly and making you give a soft moan. 

“You like that idea?” He asks breathlessly, taking your moan for excitement and he nuzzles into your neck as he squeezes your breast before rolling your nipple between his finger and thumb with just the right amount of pressure to make you whine his name. 

“Frankie.” You try to think but it’s so hard to do when he’s touching you. Surrounding you with his scent, his touch. You always joke that he fucks you stupid, but that’s exactly what he does. “You want that?” You manage to gasp out. 

“Yes.” His growl spears into your cunt, practically making it fold on itself around his cock as you clench. The ferocity of the answer makes you think that it’s something that he’s thought about a lot. 

Frankie is a giver. He loves making sure that you are always pleasured, he will spend hours with his mouth fixed to your cunt without even a grumble of complaint. Loving it and your taste, claiming he’s lucky to be able to make you cum. He puts your needs before his own and of course he would hold back on his own desires. 

You had never thought about being watched before. At least by someone else other than your husband. There have been plenty of times that Frankie had watched as you touched yourself, his dark eyes fixed on you as he clenched his fists and counted down the seconds until his own hands were on your skin. It had thrilled you then. 

“Do you?” His question is quiet and loaded. You know that if you say that you don’t want it, he will drop it and probably never bring it up again. 

Biting your lip, you close your eyes, almost embarrassed to face him as you give him your answer. “Fuck it.” You breathe out. “You only live once, right?” You give a small laugh. “Not like I have to ever see them again if they are shocked.” 

He twitches inside you again, his groan loud and pleased in your ears. “They will fucking love it, baby.” He coos, rocking his hips up even harder than before. Fucking up into you with enough force to bounce you on his lap. 

Turning your head, you give yourself over to the moment and kiss him, not even hearing the door open inside the house as the group returns. 

“Shit, Fish, you fucking did it!” Jumping when you hear Benny’s exuberant cry, your face starts to burn when you realize the boys are back and you are completely bare in front of them. “You fucking talked her into it?” 

“Talked her into it?” Your head twists around and your eyes narrow. “Francisco….” 

His expression is sheepish but he squeezes your wait. “Not like that baby.” He rushes to assure you. “I- I talked about it with the guys.” 

“Don’t listen to Ben.” William interjects. “Fish asked if we were okay with it. Nothing more.” He shoves his younger brother and rolls his eyes. 

“They needed-” Frankie groans and drills his hips up to fill you again when Benny shuffles into view, his eyes fixed on you on Frankie’s lap. “To agree to it too.” 

You understand, Frankie wanted to read his friends into his mission. Reaching back and caressing his cheek gently. “Good boy.” 

Everyone groans, All four men as they each shuffle into the chairs that they had been sitting in before their little jaunt to the store. The six packs of beer in their hands are almost forgotten as they sit down. Eyes reflecting the fires as they watch you slowly start to ride your husband in front of them. 

It’s almost freeing, being watched. Knowing that other eyes are on you and not looking away. You can hear their slight panting groans from the otherside. 

Frankie loves it. You can tell from how hard his cock is. How it shreds up into you with precise, sure thrusts. Eager, almost, to show off his prowess. Perhaps showing them how he can fuck you, how you like to be fucked. The ideas and possibilities for this races through your mind as you are on display for everyone to see. 

“That’s my good girl.” Frankie pants in your ear, his breath hot and wispy against your skin. His hands turn harder, griping and groping, squeezing you as you move on top of him. “Letting me fuck you in front of them. Showing them the sweet little pussy I take care of.” 

Frankie’s dirty talk is always on point, but there is a sensuality to it that makes his words even hotter. Curling into your body and making your cunt ache. “Your pussy.” You moan quietly. 

You don’t look over at the boys, not wanting to know what they are doing. You’d rather imagine it and find out later, even though every one of them keeps groaning and grunting from across the fire. Right now, you just want to give Frankie what he needs. 

“My girl likes to be watched, don’t you baby?” He moans, hand sliding down to rub your clit. 

“Yes, baby yes!” You cry out, finding it to be completely true. It might have been Frankie’s idea, but you are finding that you really like being an exhibitionist. 

#pedro pascal #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #absurdthirst kinktober #frankie morales #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales smut #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales imagine #frankie morales fanfiction

[pedge-page]

for your pk poll… I CANT CHOOSE… but i do love sub reader and joel making her piss herself tbh 🫣🫢

The Garden of Peeden

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Notes: We're getting it all. here's a little something to keep everyone happy with PK...for now.

Warnings: PISS KINK, reader and Joel piss on reader, sub!Reader, daddy kink, semi public, assisted masturbation

18+ONLY

- - - - 

It’s been 6 weeks since Joel’s started training you to go without holding back, no matter the circumstances. You’ve started getting used to it. That freeing feeling of warmth filling your senses, making your mind go from anxious to relaxed just by releasing.

Today, he has you in a beautiful sun dress, no panties. You’re spread out on top of him with your back against his chest. The two of you slouched on a patio chair as he rubs lazy circles on your clit. The breeze feels amazing, ruffling your dress and blowing cool air on your heat. You’re leaned against him with your head turned towards his. Joel’s strong arm wrapped around your middle to keep you close. He kisses you slowly, sensually, swallowing your little whimpers. All the while brushing his thumb over your pelvis.

“It’s time,” he whispers against your ear.

You nod, feeling shivers traveling over your body. You’d be holding it as he teased you, but now the tremors feel more violent. 

“You gonna let go f’me? Paint me a pretty picture.” He gestures to the stone pavement below you. Despite being outside, the beautiful garden surrounding you adds some semblance of privacy. Its colorful array mixed with the outdoor atmosphere makes for the perfect lazy Saturday afternoon piss outside.

“S’okay, I got ya.” He pushes his thumb a little harder on your bladder while his middle and ring finger draw tight circles along your folds. You nod, biting your lips and forcing a steady breath out. It’s the hardest part for sure. It builds and builds and builds inside you. The pressure forcing your hips off of his every so often as you try to hold it in. 

No, he told you to relax. Stop flexing your walls to try to starve it off. You close your eyes, unwinding mentally and physically.

And it starts to happen.

A short, practice burst of urine shoots from your slit before trickling out again, slowly building up to a steady stream. 

“Oooohhhhhhh. There she is, that’s my good girl. My beautiful girl,” he hums with a grin. His presses his lips to yours. Joel’s hand kneads your pussy over your stream, rubbing your clit messily. Warm piss spills down his wrist and your ass, onto his jeans but he doesn’t care. He loves the sound of your interrupted hissing due to his movements. The pavement crackles as it splatters consistently like a pretty fountain waterfall. 

You sigh contently. It’s the best part, by far. You crack as smile and close your eyes again.

He laughs softly. “Ahhh that’s it, so good isn’t it? Making such a pretty mess, baby girl. You like peeing all over yourself n’ Daddy, I can tell. GO on, piss some more.”

You both watch from between your legs as you shoot a particularly strong jet, watching it arc over a sizable distance and landing on a dry part of the stones.

“Wow! Look at that, gettin so strong!” He rubs his palm over you quicker, the stream becoming splotched all over your dress and stomach. You both giggle and kiss once again. He drink your sexy noises as the two of you soak yourselves in hot liquid. 

“Ahhhh, baby, your squirtin’ pussy gets me so hard.” He grinds your ass along his harden length trapped underneath his jeans.

It doesn’t take much to read Joel Millers mind. All you’ve left are little trickles here and there of your piss. So you reach between your legs and pull his poor cock out.

“Mmmmm that’s better. Feeling’ that breeze on your pussy feels good on my dick too.” He lazily smirks as you start to fist him.

“Can I put it inside?” You ask.

“Got a better idea.”  He grips his cock and sits the two of you back a little more, now your heads propped up against the low back rest. He jerks himself a little, slapping your clit.

You jolt each time his tip smacks your clit. He kisses you between breaths, a game of cat and mouse as he chases your tongue.

“Pull those tits out,” he grunts.

You pull the neckline of your stretchy dress below your breasts just as Joel comes up to cup one. 

“M’gonna paint a pretty picture too. Ya ready f’me?”

You nod excitedly and spread your legs even wider for him. 

Joel grits his teeth, fisting himself a little before letting out a pained groan. His tip explodes in a fat stream of piss upwards, first hitting your clit then increasing up along your naval and to your breasts.

You giggle and squirm. The warm liquid feels amazing on your cool tits. It smacks your chest then trickles all down your front, soaking your dress and you in the process. 

His tongue is caught between his teeth as he moans drunkenly, watching you present yourself fuller for him to ruin with piss. 

“Feel that, baby? Daddy loves pissin’ on ya, such a beautiful thing f’me to paint.” “Thank you Daddy! Love your hot piss blanketing me.”

You cup your breasts and glide this tip to slot between your messy folds. His hot, strong stream of pee overwhelms you quickly, spreading down below you and starting to coat his sides and thighs. It’s so much. Way stronger, way more copious than yours was. The chair leaks so much urine, a puddle quickly forming below the two of you.

He starts to just hit your clit. The warm sensation, coupled with its pounding nature quickly sends you in a frenzy of quivers. He snatches your lips just as you begin to cum on his piss. You’re loud now too, forgoing the fact that your backyard can still be overheard by neighbors. Its beautiful. He wants to hoard all your sounds to himself. in time, you’ll be ready to piss yourself around others.

He’s just content covering you in his fluids for his eyes only for now.

When you finish, you pant heavily. He pecks your lips, refusing to let you part from his too much. The two of you are absolutely drenched, But you especially. Your pretty little sun dress now sticks awkwardly to your body, the neckline stretched below your wet tits.  

“My beautiful girl,” he hums again into your lips. 

His thick fingers begin to stroke between your petals once more.

 “Shall we try for round two?”

- - - -

Taglist: @harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop

#pedro pascal smut #joel miller fan fiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #last of us fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #last of us smut #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller fic #PK!Joel #PissKink!Joel #tlou smut #the last of us smut #the last of us fic #last of us fic #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic

[reallyromealone]

I am starting to feel like a bother to you and im very sorry, But can I request bonten and baby reader going camping and baby reader who almost burns everything down for goofing around and then just chaos

MASTERLIST

EVENT

10. camping

Bonten x male reader

Son reader - fluff - male reader - baby reader

Bonten had been taking parenting classes, twice a week they learned to take care of their one year old who was constantly on the move, wanting to see and do everything his little heart could.

"Camping?" Sanzu looked suspicious as half of Bonten missed this private lesson "yeah apparently it's good for him to have outdoor time like that, bonding activity and all" Ran said simply as he held little (name) who was squirmy and fidgety, clearly full of energy.

"Maybe he will burn all that energy..." Koko mumbled.

Bonten didn't camp.

They were city through and through.

So they instead "glamped" buying two RVS for them all and a travel crib for (name) "we really gotta do this?" Kakucho asked as Mikey sat in a nice camping chair with (name) on a child leash "I mean if it makes this kid have a semi normal life" Mochi said as (name) straight charged in one spot, Mikey's hold onto the leash strong.

They had a list of camping things to do, something Rindō found online "look at a sunrise...? We already see that with (name) loosing his mind for food" Takeomi said and the men immediately dropped the idea of seeing that shit.

Next was...."swimming?"

The camp site they went to was a rich one but people still gawked at the handsome men in swim trunks with a tiny babe in little anchor swim trunks and floaties, the babe nervous at the water and whining as Mikey held him close by his little bum, Mikey was surprisingly the gentler of dad's out of all of them as he was very attentive to his sons needs, the need to keep (name) alive actually seemed to give him some sort of schedule.

"See? It's not bad" Mikey said as (name) splashed a bit and seemed to enjoy the cool water and the dad's smiled at this, Koko Snapping a photo from his beach chair.

The family tried a bunch of stuff throughout the day, (name) holding a little fish in his hand and straight up throwing it back before trying to grab flowers and hand them to his dad's to hold.

The fire was roaring, the men sitting around it as (name) tried a smore---well parts off it, the boy not trusted with a toasted marshmallow as they didn't need to clean that mess up.

"Wanna roast a marshmallow bud?" Kakucho asked babe who took the pole and the men watched fondly as he roasted the sugary treat "oh! It's on fire" Takeomi said as little (name) decided that he was going to drop it on the ground, the ground catching fire and an empty fold chair as the men jumped into action, Kakucho taking (name) Sanzu grabbed the fire extinguisher they brought and took out the fire, the men taking in a deep breath as they realized they almost set a forest on fire.

"We aren't fucking camping again"

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x male reader #tokyo revengers fluff #male reader #bonten x reader

[pedge-stuff]

strawberry margs (pedro pascal x gn/m!reader)

a/n: same vague universe as “marked,“ per usual, yada yada.

happy belated labor day, y'all! tip your servers and thank your union reps.

(my union is on strike rn and, while it is ass, I'm very grateful for the people who are working hard to secure a better future for all of us. wga strong!)

summary: a totally normal labor day cookout with no big announcements whatsoever.

—————————————————————————

"Hey!" Pedro is slightly out of breath, flushed from the cocktail and the dry heat. Sometime in the fifteen minutes he's been gone inside the house, a tiny sombrero-on-a-headband has made its way onto his head. 

He plants a kiss on your temple, slinging an arm over your shoulder; the man gets a little possessive, after a couple drinks, but not in an unpleasant way. There's a pitcher of pre-mixed margaritas on the picnic table, and only a thin finger of the same drink left in his plastic cup. You squeeze the hand that now rests on your right shoulder. 

"Are you having fun?" 

Truthfully, yes. Parties usually aren't your vibe, and you'd been nervous about this one, for some reason. Had expressed as much to him, beforehand.

Oscar and Elvira usually host in the summer, the little patio attached to their apartment far surpassing anyone else’s outdoor space in the city. No reason at all to be nervous— you were just here, for the 4th of July, alone, kindly invited while Pedro was still filming in Morocco. (And oh, how the summer had changed.) Had been here almost every weekend since then, while things were shut down. 

But, this was the first party since… well. Since you’d put a ring on it, so-to-speak. 

The social etiquette of the whole thing has you flummoxed. Are you supposed to tell people? Is that annoying? Do you just not say anything? Wait for them to notice? Take the rings off and break up so you don’t have to do this at all? 

Ultimately, these are Pedro’s friends, so it’s been Pedro’s call. Not that you communicated that to him. Which might have been a mistake. Regardless, you’re deferring to him, despite the pit of stupid anxiety it left in your stomach leading up to the party. 

Not that you’re not proud of the ring, either. You couldn’t be fucking happier. Social anxiety is a tricky thing, apparently. (You might have way, way overthought all of this.) 

“Yeah,” you smile at Pedro, shaking cobwebs of shitty thoughts from your brain. “Yeah, this is lovely.” 

Another kiss, this one soft on your lips. He tastes a little fruity, some kinda flavored syrup in the margaritas. You’d accidentally opted for an IPA that tastes like ass, so you’re just carrying around the can as a prop. His fingers are sticky from something, you discover, as he licks them clean.

The arm around your shoulder steers you towards the long picnic table, around which most of the party is gathered: the hosts, and a few extended family members you’ve definitely been introduced to, before. Sarah is here, with Holland, which is a nice surprise. The kids are deep into a game of corn hole, in the small grassy area. 

You settle at the table, folding chair pulled flush against Pedro’s. A large hand palms above your knee, exposed below the inseam of your shorts. The sun is warm on your skin, fingers wet from the condensation of the can you’re pretending to nurse.  

“— the AMPTP doesn’t know what they’re talking about,” Holland is saying, from where you’ve entered the conversation. 

Oscar’s brother, whose name you should know by now, laughs. “Been four months now, though,” he shrugs. “You think someone would’ve budged by now, but—“ 

"Woah, woah." From his perch on his wife's lap, Oscar points, looking scandalized. “What the fuck is that!" 

Pointing, unexpectedly, at the ring on your finger. 

"Uh." Pedro's looks sheepish. 

"You're joking!" A hand dramatically clutches his heart, while Oscar swoons against Elvira. "I'm wounded. Sarah, did you know about this?" 

Across the table, she raises a glass, mockingly. "I picked out the ring." 

"That's not true—" Pedro begins to protest. 

"—Sorry, I forced him to make a fucking decision because he'd been agonizing over three options for like a month." 

Pedro shrugs. "I wanted it to be perfect," he says sheepishly, "sue me!" 

"No, no, backup," Oscar says. "I don't care about the rings. I can't believe you didn't tell me!" 

"I can," Elvira offers, "you've got a big mouth." 

He groans. "It's not like it was a secret!" 

Loud interruptions from across the table. "It was absolutely a secret, that's the whole point!" 

Oscar throws a hand up. "You already act like you're married, is anyone surprised about this?" 

"You were surprised." 

"I was surprised you didn't tell me! Wounded, frankly. Irredeemably. To the core." 

"Are you done?" Sarah rolls her eyes, squeezing Pedro's shoulder affectionately. "About damn time, but we're happy for you." 

She gestures at Oscar. “Yeah, yeah, we’re happy for you.” 

“With feeling this time.” 

“Guys,” Pedro interjects, “I wasn’t keeping anything from you. It happened two days ago!” 

He launches into the tale, eggplants and double-rings and all. The hand stays planted on your knee, and you take advantage, laying yours on top to thumb over the band on his ring finger. Someone tops Pedro off, and you reach for a sip— strawberry, you determine, is the marg syrup. You’re not really listening, but you lean back, content to watch him retell the story. 

The next time he kisses you, as the sun sets into the Brooklyn skyline, you taste like strawberries, too. 

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal one shot #pedro pascal rpf #pedro pascal x male reader #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fluff #the last of us #joel miller #din djarin #javier pena #narcos #the mandalorian #joel miller x reader #din djarin x reader #javier pena x reader

[nonotnolan]

Cuerpo Inc: After Hours Perk

“Look, dude... I know you’re not really Jake.  The sooner you drop the act, the sooner we can have an actual conversation between us.”  I tried not to any trace of fear reach my smile as Jake’s neighbor continued to stare me down, his arms folded across his chest.  Thomas was right, of course-- Jake and I had swapped bodies with each other a few hours ago.  I wanted to take advantage of the pool in Jake’s suburban backyard, and he wanted to take advantage of my downtown apartment to have a few nights out on the town.  It wasn’t specifically against the rules, but since the office frowned upon non-work swapping we had promised each other that we were going to keep it on the downlow.  Did he know about Jake’s job?  He probably knew about Jake’s job..

“Why would...?  Thomas, my man... it’s the weekend!  Why the hell would I swap bodies over the weekend?”  I gave him a playful shove on the shoulder, like I had seen Jake do to so many of our coworkers back at the office.  “I spend enough time during the work week swapping bodies with people so that my company doesn’t have to pay for airfare.  After a solid week of swaps across the country, I’m gonna be spending the weekend in my own body, thank you very much.”

Thomas simply shook his head at me.  “Yeah, I dunno, man... being Jake’s neighbor, I can’t help but notice a few things.”  Jake had warned me that his neighbor on the other half of the duplex was weirdly nosy, but this was a special kind of intrusive that I hadn’t prepared myself for.  “It seems like Jake always swaps bodies with someone on Fridays, and he doesn’t swap back until Sunday afternoon or so.  Not everyone who wears that body is as good as pretending to be Jake as you are, stranger.”

His benign acceptance of Jake’s body swapping habits was starting to make me question just how often Jake was swapping bodies outside of work hours.  Jake swore that he only swapped once every few months, but there was no way Jake’s neighbor would be this suspicious if that were true.  “I’m not pretending, it’s really me in here!” I said, laughing as I slapped my chest for emphasis.  There really wasn’t any reason for me to double down on this lie, but... telling Thomas the truth felt like giving up, and I wasn’t about to take that loss.  “I’m Jake, dammit!  What do I have to do to prove it to you?”

“Take your shirt off,” he said, staring me down with a shit-eating grin.

I couldn’t help but laugh.  There had to be a catch, but I had no idea what it could possibly be.  Better to try and just bluff my way through it.  “You’re such a weirdo-- you know that, right?”  I peeled my tank-top off over my shoulders, trying to mimic the body language I’d seen Jake use before.  I wadded it up and tossed it over my shoulder, making sure to maintain eye contact with him as I did so.  “Are you happy, now, Thomas?  Do you believe me?”

He just smiled at me as his shit-eating grin got even wider.  “Quite the opposite, stranger.  The HOA around here gets very angry about partial states of undress, so the real Jake wouldn’t go shirtless unless he was behind a fence.  So.  Let’s head over into Jake’s backyard so we can talk about this further.  What is your name?”

“Gah, fine.  My name is Ethan,” I said, shaking my head.  Not that it really mattered that Thomas had figured out that I was lying, but it still felt weird that he cared so much.  I made my way toward the gate, and gestured him through.  Jake’s backyard had a nice, tall wooden privacy fence to keep the pool hidden from view, and there was a patio area with a few plastic beach chairs set up near a cheap outdoor table.  I’d expected Thomas to be gloating-- it’s what I would have done after calling out someone’s lies like that-- but instead he was typing away on his phone.

“Is this you?” Thomas asked, holding up a picture of a guy in a suit.  More to the point, it was a photo of me wearing a suit.

It took me a bit to figure out when that photo had been taken.  “Yeah, that’s my body,” I said, staring back at Thomas.  I wasn’t sure why he had a photo of me, but I didn’t see much point in trying to lie anymore.  “Assuming it’s a recent photo, that was probably taken last Wednesday.  I swapped with a guy out in Milwaukee who needed to be local, and he needed someone who was wearing something a bit nicer than business casual.”  It was a part of my job as an Accountant / Host.  Since my job was 100% virtual, my workplace also expected me to swap bodies with anyone who needed to be local for an important meeting.  I’d gotten used to filling out spreadsheets while wearing someone else’s body a long time ago, but not everyone was used to Cuerpo Inc’s casual approach to body swapping.  Maybe Thomas was one of them?

“Just thought you should know, he’s using a photo of you on his Grindr profile,” Thomas said, handing me his phone.  Sure enough, there was my name and my face on a profile littered with peach emojis, declaring that I was a hungry bottom eager for a hung daddy.  Well, that explained why he had a photo of my body.  “Jake does this a lot,” he added.  “He’ll find a guy with a young face and a slender build, and then spend the weekend knee deep in gay sex.  So, when your ass hurts on Monday, that’s why.”

“I appreciate the warning,” I said, giving Thomas his phone back.  “I’m a gay man myself, so I’m not too bothered by it, but... it is the sort of thing Jake should have told me before we swapped.”  I have to admit, I was not expecting Jake to be into that kind of thing.  When he told me he wanted to spend the weekend out on the town, I really did just assume he was going to get super drunk in my body.  Jake usually carried himself as a man’s man around the office, talking about beers, sports, or his most recent fishing trip.  True, he never mentioned a wife, but I assumed that meant he got burned in a divorce or something.  A thought occurred to me as I looked closer at Thomas.

“I can’t help but notice that you also have a Grindr profile,” I said, slipping my hands into my waistband.  “Perhaps you would like to enjoy me for some fun out here by the poolside?  Seems like this fence would give us a lot of privacy...”

Thomas stepped forward, close enough that I could feel the heat of his breath hitting my chest.  “So let me get this straight.  I come here to warn you about Jake’s plans to have sex inside of your body, and you decide to... try and have sex inside of his body instead?”

I looked down at him, staring directly into his eyes.  “I suppose that is exactly what I’m doing, yes.”  It was my turn to stare at Thomas with a wide grin.  “It only seems fair, after all.  What’s good for my body must also be good for his.  And I can’t help but notice that you haven’t turned me down.”

He responded by placing his hands on my shoulders.  “Well, now.  I suppose I haven’t.  But do you really think it would be a good idea for me to fool around with my neighbor’s body while he’s not inside of it?”

I responded by grabbing one of his hands, and sliding it down to one of Jake’s pierced nipples.  “I just asked if you wanted to join me.  Who said it was going to be a good idea?”  

#male body swap #gay body swap #cuerpo inc #casual body swap #after the swap

[mime-the]

Yeah it’s fanfic Saturday, I wrote a chapter one for the silly prologue thing I made the other day. Here you go for those interested…

Pure Vanilla Cookie woke up with a start, his heart pounding. Another nightmare, he thought. He listened to the soft song of one of the faerie kingdom’s many birds, bringing himself to the present moment, giving his spinning mind the time to ground itself as well. Tick… Tick… He listened to the ambient ticking of the clock. Just a nightmare. Nothing real, Pure Vanilla Cookie reminded himself.

Plenty of horrible dreams had visited him along his long life, but none quite so violent and rage-fueled as the ones that came after White Lily Cookie had sealed the Beast of Deceit right back into his prison. He knew this was no coincidence, but he had no solution... Pure Vanilla Cookie opened his eyes slightly, reaching toward his staff and sliding off his bed.

The Faeries had insisted on giving the party their own rooms, and Pure Vanilla Cookie had noticed the lilies they had decorated the room with, alongside a few other flowers. The room itself was quite spacious, a lavishly adorned shelf of books on the opposite side to silver cabinets which he had been told had extra clothes, would he need them during their stay. A mirror laid on the wall next to the cabinets, the rim had small little patterns carved around it. Patterns which the Faeries just loved to etch into many of the things they built.

There was a desk near one of the windows, holding a lamp and writing utensils. It was often a comfortably warm spot in the room, where Pure Vanilla Cookie often found himself sitting to watch the birds outside and drink tea whilst thinking about the council and his friends. His bed was adorned with soft cream colored fabrics, a splash of blue flowery patterns here or there among them. The bed sheets were white, stripes methodically sewn into it like chocolate drizzle. He was grateful for how comfortable the bed was, but despite his attempts it never granted him a fulfilling night’s rest.

He walked to the mirror, fixing his hair and getting dressed for the day in his typical attire, then folded his pajamas and fixed the bed. He moved soundlessly to the window, taking in the humbly peaceful sight of the Faerie Kingdom. Pure Vanilla Cookie was glad to have helped bring the calm and stop the chaos Shadow Milk Cookie had sewn right through it.

He frowned… he hadn’t really done all that much, did he? It was White Lily Cookie’s wise thinking that had actually resolved all this. He’d just gotten strung up and held hostage. Pure Vanilla Cookie held his hand up to his head, it’s too early to start thinking such thoughts. He should at least get something to fill his stomach for the time being. The ever-present feeling of being watched only grew stronger as he made his way to the door.

He walked out through the elegant silver halls, saying his hellos and good mornings to the stray Faerie here or there, reminding himself to be thankful of their hospitality. Pure Vanilla Cookie made his way to the cafe which he had been introduced to as soon as the party had decided they’d be staying here until word got back from the other members council. He noticed Gingerbrave and his friends already there, and it didn’t take long for them to notice him too.

“Pure Vanilla Cookie! Come here! You HAVE to try these jellies, they’re sooo good,” Gingerbrave shouted, before stuffing his face once more. Pure Vanilla Cookie couldn’t help but smile as he walked closer. He sat down on one of the metal chairs they had set on the outdoor tables, three little cookies talking to each other. “Gingerbrave, I think you should slow down…! We don’t want you to get sick,” mumbled Strawberry Cookie, watching her friend with a worried expression. Pure Vanilla Cookie let out a little laugh, “You’re enjoying your stay here by the looks of it.”

“Yes! The Faeries really know their stuff when it comes to the food,” Gingerbrave commented, between mouthfuls of food. Pure Vanilla Cookie observed what they were eating. An assortment of jellies, varying in size and color and a few little berries to accompany them. Wizard Cookie piped up, noticing Pure Vanilla Cookie’s interest, “They said these jellies were mixed with Honey, giving them their gold color. We’ve had a few before back at the feasts but I never got to see them for too long… ahem.” He then motioned to Gingerbrave, which was now lying on the table, face flat against the wood, lightly grumbling.

Strawberry Cookie had picked out a berry, and frowned at him. Pure Vanilla Cookie was glad the kids were having a better time than he was here. He himself picked up one of the smaller jellies, never having much of an appetite. “How have the Faeries been to you?” He questioned, before taking a few polite bites. “They’ve been really nice! One of them has taken it upon themselves to teach us some more stories, separate from the Beasts,” Strawberry Cookie told him, now patting her friend on the back as he visibly regretted his decision.

Wizard cookie lit up at the mention, nodding vigorously, “Oh yes! It’s very interesting to learn the history of the Faeries. They hold Elder Faerie Cookie and White Lily Cookie to very high regard in their stories.” Pure Vanilla Cookie chuckled, “I’m very happy to know that you’re all feeling as welcome as me.” The little group talked for a while longer, sharing laughs and stories here and there. Pure Vanilla Cookie then nodded to the young cookies, having eaten his awkwardly small fill, “Well, you should make sure Gingerbrave makes it home to his room without too much of an issue. I am in the mood to go feed the birds. Have a good day, you three!”

“Goodbye Pure Vanilla Cookie!” called Strawberry Cookie as he left, turning back to talk to Wizard Cookie. Pure Vanilla Cookie walked down the paths of the Faerie Kingdom, the ones he’d chosen to familiarize himself with. It was now, away from his friends, that he felt that glare boring into every part of his dough. He tried to ignore it but the thought always gnawed away in his mind.

Eventually he’d made his way to the little clearing he had found whilst walking through the kingdom, a calm little place where birds curiously flew to peck at the floor and pick up branches. Pure Vanilla Cookie sat down on the silky grass, carefully placing his staff on the ground next to him. “It’s a wonderful day… is it not?” he thought out loud, looking at his staff as if it’d respond. It just gave him a silent look before closing its eye and resting.

Pure Vanilla Cookie sat there, thinking to himself for a few moments before taking out the bag of seed he had brought with him and throwing some in an arc around him. He watches as a few yeast birds fly down curiously and begin pecking at the birdseed. These little birds were the main inhabitants of the Faerie Kingdom, a combination of the blue birds he was used to seeing back in his own kingdom and the yeast spores that wandered the forest. He watched them gladly, holding his hand out to let one land on it. Pure Vanilla Cookie held his hand there as one of the inquisitive younger ones landed on it, and he gave it a few little scratches.

Just as he watched the little bird fly off happily, he heard an all too familiar voice call out from within him, laced with pure fury “You fool.”

#cookie run kingdom #crk fanfic #pure vanilla cookie #this was pretty silly to write #at least 3 people want me to write this thing and that’s enough motivation for me lmao #the skrunkler may not have a good time #shadow milk cookie #he’ll be very prevalent later

[thecynthh]

confide - M.S

summery - y/n escapes to the balcony of you and matt’s room while a whole party is still buzzing under you, he finds you and lets you know that he still loves you no matter what

notes - MORE FLUFF, guys we needed more fluff, i can make a part 2 with smut in it if u whores like this one 🫶

a/n - this is me putting off smart ass 🤗

——————————————————————————

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trying to escape the madness of the party happening underneath me i choose to sit on the outdoor couch on the very high balcony i sit at. i started the mini fire pit in front of me as all the supplies for it was just in a box near the door. 

the blanket that embraces me is fluffy and soft, as much as i love matt i couldn’t breath in that horrible blanket of tension his mother threw onto me. i was drilled with questions by her knowing the reason for the excessive amount. matt went through a rough break up before me, and i can’t blame her for wanting to make sure her son doesn’t go through something like that again. 

the fire crackles and pops while i just enjoy the city lights and soft jazz that plays on the upper level of the penthouse, i lay my head down on the other seat cozying up on the bamboo woven couch, the thick padding cradle me as i feel myself being lulled to sleep. 

not long after i fall asleep im woken up by the sound of the sliding door behind me, a shadowy figure walks to the side of the couch, it was matt. 

“hi sweetheart, did you get tired?” matt says, folding over to get closer to my face, the glow of the fireplace reflects every chiselled feature in his face.  i give him a soft nod while he peels his suit jacket off resting it on the chair that is also stationed towards the fire.

“hey move your head up,” i do as i’m told and he slides into the seat on the couch my head was recently covering up, he lays my head back onto his muscular thigh letting me use him as a pillow. 

“im sorry, i was so overwhelmed by your mom,” i say shameful of when i tripped over my words and made a fool of myself. 

“yeah, nick told me about it, he already told her to calm down on the questions, he also led me here to you and i don't think my mom is the only factor of you coming up here.” he says, dipping his head down to kiss my forehead. his fingers push my hair away from my face as i turn to look up at him. 

“i don’t know matt, i feel weird. i don’t belong in this sparkly dress or these high class parties. i’m so new to all of it, and don’t get me wrong, i love all of this and you so much to keep pushing through but if i’m being honest it’s really hard for me to be down there.” i hope matt understood what i meant by all of that because it really felt good to get off my chest. 

“i get it, we grew up differently, but that doesn’t change anything between us. i dont care if you were dirty and homeless on the street as long as i knew who you were i would have picked you up, housed you and loved you forever. and i'm willing to do that right now too. i don’t care if my family is worried about me, because i know that i'm alright now. you healed me.” he cupped my cheek making sure my eyes were still connected to his while he assured me of his intentions and beliefs. 

“i know i’m not what your mom envisioned who you would be with, so thank you for all of this. from the dress to the heels and your sweet words, thank you for sharing your beautiful life with me.” i sit up and begin to straddle matt, my red dress pools around us while i take matt in for a large hug. he returns it pushing my head into his neck letting me become way more calm then i was when i came up here. 

i look back up to him with a tear escaping from my perfectly done eye make up. “don’t cry please, it breaks my fucking heart when you cry.” he kisses the tear before it can run fully down my face fully. “how about we go to bed, i’ll get you all cleaned up and all i have to do is tell nick and chris that i’m not feeling well and we can cuddle all night, sounds good?” i eagerly nod, giving an enthusiastic yes. 

he wraps my straddled legs around his torso and carries me inside, keeping me bundled up in my blanket as I'm moved to the bed, before promptly putting out the fire i started. he retreats back to me bringing one of my silk black cami tops to change into while he goes to my large vanity and brings back a soaked cotton pad to use to clean my face of running mascara and concealer. 

he gently rubs and wipes across my face seeing him extremely focused on the task in front of him. he tosses the stained pad and he lets me crawl into bed. “okay i’ll be back im just going to find chris or nick to update them, i won’t be long.” he lingers at the door handle while telling me his exact actions while he heads out the door.

i check my phone for messages and notifications while before he comes back to our room, he strips off his button up abandoning it in the hamper that crowds a corner of the room. his dress pants hang low on his hips as they fall slightly while he pulls his belt through the multitude of loops on his pants. 

he’s now just left in his plaid print boxers as he slips under the charcoal grey duvet and snakes his arms around me pulling me in, embracing me just like he said he would. his chest is flush with my back and his legs entangle with mine. he’s warm and still smells like the intoxicating cologne he adores. i take a deep breath in being very content in where my life ended up and how i’m now engaged with my fiance and now letting the rest of his family know at a party. life is great when you find your person.

taglist - @westwiing13 @comet235 @mayhem73

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matthew bernard sturniolo #matt sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolos #sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #y/n #Spotify

[lieslab]

Stupid Bird

Summary: Hyunjin plans an outdoor spring date for the two of you.

Pairing: Hynunjin X gn reader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1.7K

_ _ _

“What are you doing?” You raised an eyebrow as you glanced over the top of your phone. 

You had been laying on the couch scrolling through your social media accounts when Hyunjin came through the front door. Earlier he had disappeared outside and told you to stay put. You had questions, but Hyunjin was Hyunjin, so you stayed silent. You hadn’t left your spot on the couch. 

He pushed his face closer to yours. You slowly pulled your phone down, so you could see him better. His warm brown eyes were sparkling with excitement. “Do you remember how I told you that I wanted to have a date with you outside? I never knew what I wanted to do, but I wanted it to be outside.” 

Ever since the winter months had started to warm up, Hyunjin had wanted to be outside more. The frost had disappeared and the snow had melted away. Dreary gray skies had been replaced with baby blue hues and white cotton clouds. 

The Earth had finally begun to reawaken from its slumber. Bare tree limbs had sprouted with new leaves. South Korea’s cherry blossom trees had finally started to bloom. The soft pink flowers filled the air with their sweet scent.

The natural wildlife had started prowling around again. The warm morning sunshine was filled with birds chirping. Every morning, without a doubt, you were greeted by their natural alarms. Butterflies flapped their wings and fluttered gracefully. The bright green grass was soft and spongy beneath your feet, finally warmed after spending months frozen solid. 

Hyunjin seemed to be able to romanticize every season, but in the spring, he bloomed. Sometimes in the colder months, he had days where he felt a little more down than usual. You always had to find a way to help him out of his dreary fog. In the spring, it didn’t happen as much. 

When it did, you tugged him with you outside and his mood would change. Maybe it was the slight breeze in his face or the sight of a wild rabbit. The squirrels shoving food into their cheek pockets with tiny hands which reminded him of Han. The bright sunshine that warmed his face. He always seemed to feel a lot lighter in the spring. 

“I do remember that,” you dropped your phone on your chest. “What about it? Did you plan something?” 

“I didn’t just plan it, I set something up. Come on!” He grabbed your hand and pulled you up. 

You let him jerk your body off the couch and followed him outside. The two of you had moved into your own apartment a few months ago. You were only about a fifteen minute drive from his company. 

Outside, you were hit with the smell of fresh cut grass. Whoever your landlord hired to mow it had just finished mowing earlier this morning. You let Hyunjin pull you along until he dropped your hand. He had led you to a small table with a plastic back table cloth covering it. 

Two folding chairs were placed on either side of the table. Two wooden birdhouses sat on each end. A spread of different sized paint brushes and paint tubes sat in the middle of the table. Off to one side, a small circular charcuterie board had been set up. 

Different meats and cheese cubes accompanied crackers and a few fruits. You looked at the table with wide eyes. “When did you make this?” 

“I made it back at the dorms and had Changbin drive it over earlier. I made it last night before I came home. What do you think? Do you like it?” 

“Like it? I love it!” 

His mouth curled up in a smile. He moved a chair out and gestured for you to sit down. You quickly sat down and he hurried to sit across from you. 

“I was thinking that we could paint these birdhouses and nibble on some snacks. I know we’re not always a huge fan of the birds every morning, but they do live around here.” 

One of your neighbors had her front yard decorated with a wide variety of birdhouses and a bird bath. Birds were always in the area, but since she regularly fed and watered them, there were a lot more birds in the area. 

“Maybe if we’re lucky, one of them will use one and lay eggs. Maybe we’ll get our very own little bird family. We can name the kids and we can feed them every morning.” 

“Are we going to buy worms for them?” 

Hyunjin’s face scrunched up in disgust, “I meant bird seed!” 

You let out a laugh and pulled the bird house closer to you. “What color are you going to paint yours?” 

“I don’t know yet. I was thinking of something bright and colorful. The apartment is white and it’s a little drab on the outside. What are you going to do?” 

“I’m not sure yet.” Your eyes scanned the paint before you finally picked up your favorite color. You picked out a black handled brush. 

“I forgot the water and palettes!” Hyunjin got up and quickly hurried inside. A few moments later, he came back with two disposable cups and two small wooden paint palettes. 

He placed one in front of you and set the cup down beside you before returning to his own seat. The two of you laughed and nibbled on the food he prepped beneath the warm sun. You kept getting distracted by the conversation. You’d paint a few strokes before you’d pull your head up and speak. The mild weather was nice enough that the two of you could relax in your t-shirts and jeans. 

Two hours later, you had finally finished the first coat of the house. You glanced over to eye Hyunjin’s and your mouth opened in shock. Not only had he painted his birdhouse, but he made it look like an actual house. He had painted small multi-colored flowers around the sides. Shingles had been added to the roof. He was in the process of creating a painted window on the side. 

Your lips sat out in a pout, “this isn’t fair. You’re one-upping me! The birds are going to think your house is so much better than mine.” 

“Sweetheart, it’s not my fault that you decided to date an artist. You knew what you were signing up for when you agreed to date me. It’s not my fault that my artistic ability tops yours.” 

“Hey!” You called out playfully. You knew that he was just joking and meant no harm. The two of you were used to bickering back and forth. You crossed your arms over your chest and let out a dramatic huff. 

Maybe you had learned a thing or two about theatrics while dating him. Even the most minor inconveniences caused you to put on a show. It had been a running joke that Hyunjin had corrupted you. You didn’t do it all the time, but when you did, you were sure to make it as dramatic as possible. 

“Oh, you poor thing,” Hyunjin cooed. 

He finished his window and put down his brush. He pushed himself out of his chair and towards you. He wrapped his arms around you tightly. 

“There, there, don’t worry. I’m sure the birds will appreciate your house, but they’ll just appreciate mine a little more.” He planted a wet sloppy kiss on the side of your cheek. You squealed and squirmed in his grip as he laughed. 

“You got your germs on me!” 

“I’m so sorry, let me fix it.” 

He released you from his grip and pulled you to your feet. You thought he was going to wipe off his saliva, but he cupped your face between his hands. Your eyes widened in shock as his lips came back into contact with your face. 

Over and over again, he pressed kisses to your face. Loud smooches filled the air. He didn’t care if the neighbors were watching. Your giggles caused his heart to flutter in his chest. 

“Hyunjin, get off of me! 

He placed a final kiss on the tip of your nose before he pulled away grinning. You frantically wiped at your face. He shook his head, “it’s too late. My kisses have already soaked into your skin. You’ve got my cooties now.” 

“Ew.” 

The sound of his laughter caused you to start laughing again. You stopped as something flew by the corner of your eye. The laughing ceased and the two of you glanced over at the table. You watched in silence while a bird landed in the middle of it.

“He’s going to pick my house,” Hyunjin whispered. 

“No he’s not!” You whispered back. “He’s going to explore mine.” 

The two of you held your breaths as the white and brown bird tipped its head to explore the surroundings. You bite down on the inside of your cheek eager to prove that your house was better even if it was a basic color. 

Without a word, the bird hopped over to the charcuterie board. It tipped its head and surveyed the food. Black beady eyes scanned slowly before it bent down. Taking their time, they picked up a blueberry before flying off. 

The two of you watched it fly over to your neighbors house. It landed on top of one of her birdhouses before it stuck its head into the opening and shimmied inside. You and Hyunjin glanced at each other for a moment. 

“Well…I guess he already has a home.” 

You glanced over at Hyunjin. A smile slowly spread across your face. “Maybe our birdhouses should dry. That’s probably why he didn’t pick one. The smell of paint was too strong.” 

Hyunjin nodded, “I guess that explains it perfectly. He would have picked mine.” 

“No he wouldn’t have!” 

“Yes he would!” 

“No he would not!” 

The two of you kept bickering back and forth for a while until Hyunjin grabbed your face again. He pressed his lips against yours to get you to shut up. Your lips moved in sync with his as you kissed him back. After a while, he pulled away and left you dizzy and breathless. 

“Maybe we both have good birdhouses and the bird just has a bad opinion.” 

You nodded in agreement with bright eyes, flushed cheeks, and swollen lips. “Yeah, yeah; that’s exactly what happened.” 

“Stupid bird?” 

“Stupid bird.” 

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