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#now you have to suffer from second hand embarrassment
thepunintended · 3 months
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HOW DARE YOU to pick up the phone when im calling. like, why would you do that
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roturo · 3 months
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ᯓ★DASH ╰⪼┆MMM!, I JUST WANNA CONTINUE MY PACE!
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⤹ featuring: jjk men and motorcycles!, smut, pussy slapping, size kink, unprotected sex, possessive behavior, jealousy, marking, breeding, masturbation, overstimulation, edging, multiple orgasms- gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, megumi fushiguro, sukuna ryomen..
⤹ next up!: bad news! (feb 2024) ft. jjk men suffering from reader having a low sex drive, ow!
february event! -`♡´-
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gojo satoru
Sounds of skin slapping filled the room, he swears he was so close to cum for the second time in the afternoon. You? Maybe like the fifth? Sixth? He doesn’t remember how many times he ate you out– preferring to “skip lunch and have dessert” instead. 
The sounds of motorcycles and talking were silenced thanks to your moans. Not like he needed to hear the other people throwing shit at him. Probably just jealous that he always wins this type of spontaneous street races. 
He felt that familiar tingly feeling shocking his body from his hips to his neck, feeling how you were squeezing his cock he could tell you were close too, rings from his phone tried to win the sounds of his groans and moans. Notifications coming out from what you could catch to see– Geto asking where he was, that they needed him right now just so they could start the race. People were complaining of favoritism and how they shouldn’t let Satoru compete anymore.
“Sa- ‘toru, the- the race.” Taking breaths while trying to tell Gojo you were out of time and should stop– but all you could pronounce were small ‘ah, ahs~’ while he pounded behind you. “They can wait baby, just cum f’me one last time, yeah?” 
It was like a ritual for him to fuck you everytime before a race. Taking it as his “luck key”, even though he didn’t need it to win, he just accustomed himself to destress before racing. Not that you complain.
“They- they already know who’s goin’ to win anyway- shit- you feel so good babe” A specific thrust threw you over the edge and made your vision blurry, losing yourself in the feeling while Satoru was reaching his high too while he continued pounding behind you. “atta’ girl– there we go… yeah, take it f’me”
geto suguru
Don’t ask me how, but this man would love to see you riding him while he’s on top of the motorcycle. 
Small tired jumps in search of release while you stabilize yourself with the handlebar while Geto’s thrusts sync with yours. Caging your small body on his while he also stabilized himself by moving his hands to the handlebar, feeling the motorcycle tremble and having to put one of his feet down to stop it from moving too much.
You were too lost in the pleasure you wouldn’t even notice the white of his hands because of how hard he was gripping the handlebar, one of them moving to grip your waist instead, helping you get even deeper in his cock. All he could see was the connection between the two of you, his back pressed to yours.
“Ahh Sshit baby- S’perfect f’me–” He had to bite your shoulder to not embarrass himself and moan louder than you. His hand on your waist moving towards your core while he starts giving small slaps on your clit. The small pain he was inflicting aroused you more– taking a mental note that you would most likely forget to buy a new leather saddle for him. The both of you would already reach your highs and he would stop thrusting, making you cockwarm him, but he wouldn’t stop slapping your pussy. Loving your body reaction while he chuckled everytime you trembled on top of him each time he gave a hard slap.
Your clit was hard and pulsing because of how much he slapped it, your arousal wetting Geto’s thighs when you came again just by slapping your pussy. Feeling his hard cock inside of you he wouldn’t move and preferred to continue playing with you.
nanami kento
It all started with an innocent act. You sitting on his bike while admiring it— delicately touching it, your doe eyes and small body compared to his did something inside him. 
You just looked so… pretty sitting on his bike. Your hips rolling trying to find a comfortable position in this big bike of his– remembering the same movement when he’s inside of you. Trying to pleasure yourself on his big cock making an appearance on your tummy– not letting you touch yourself or him, you just had to cum by your movements and his cock.
He loved it. Watching your body move and using him as a sex toy– but for you it was a punishment, not being able to touch him, or to feel him in the right way stressed you a lot– making it harder to cum.
He loses the mental battle on his head and now finds himself between your thighs while you balance yourself trying to grip whatever part of his bike.Your legs caging his head even deeper in your center, he never felt so… needy for something. Being so ‘patient and tolerant’ flew across the window the moment he saw you end his bike next to each other.
Maybe because it was the two things he most adored in the world? You first, his bike second. But it doesn’t matter what was the cause, but now he’s sure the effect will be him sitting on his bike while you ride him.
megumi fushiguro
You thought it was funny? You know how easily stressed Megumi becomes when a race is coming. He’s a perfectionist, and really ambitious. So he could never let himself lose, not when he has a reputation to sustain now.
He needs to feel enough. Even though you always tell him he’s more than enough and should treat his hobby as it is: a hobby– he should take it lightly and enjoy it rather than making it something that would hurt him in any kind of way.
But the moment he saw you giggling next to one of his ‘rivals’ he’s sure something inside his brain magically turned on and made him feel an anger that he couldn’t quite describe. He trusts you. But seeing you next to someone else rather than him really bothered him.
He doesn’t consider himself as a jealous boyfriend– but you were just so perfect for him that he was afraid of losing you in any kind of way. He wouldn't admit that kind of sadness and insecurity inside him to anyone, he prefers to disguise it as rage. That didn’t quit the fact that he’s jealous right now though.
He obviously won the race, the moment you went to hug him and congratulate him you knew something was wrong. The way his body reacted to yours wasn’t normal, tough and stiff, like he was almost forcing himself to hug you lovely when all he wanted it was to fuck you infront of everybody and show them you were his.
Maybe that’s an idea for another day.
But right now when the both of you got home, he told you not to get off his bike. You were confused- maybe he’s taking you somewhere else?
Wrong.
He brought himself a chair, placed it so he was facing the right side of it. All he did was say two words.
“ride it.”
He pointed at the bike with a movement of his chin, your face showed confusion, but he was applying the silent treatment. He never did it to you– so that’s how you knew to do what he says before making it worse.
So that’s how you find yourself naked on his bike, trying to do the best you can to cum for a second time while Megumi watches, sitting on the chair jerking off his cock–. the needy mushroom tip showing how close he was, his balls visible swollen because of how he was edging himself, making sure “to save as much cum to dump it inside of you and mark you as his”
Breed you like an animal the moment you wet his bike again, leaving marks that would last days, just so the other fuckers know to not get near anything that it’s his.
sukuna ryomen
He would ignore the bike tbh.
This man wouldn’t care where he is, the moment he saw you next to his bike he knew he had to fuck you– he knew you had to mark it with your arousal caused thanks to him and that’s how he would remember you even far away from you.
But let’s be real now, this man would fuck you the moment he feels blood near his cock, it doesn’t matter anything else than you and his cock. Just pounding inside you, breeding you, and training you while you ride him saying “it’s the same shit if you want to ride a bike”
Not that he'st wrong, but you wouldn’t have a dick touching your g-spot everytime and something overstimulating your clit. But basically the same– yeah…
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kurogxrix · 10 months
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Look Don’t Touch
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Dad!Mob!Bucky Barnes x Mom!reader
IN WHICH you accidentally walk onto your husband and his men during a meeting, clad in nothing else but a tight fitting top and a baby in your arms. The sight is enough to send the many men drooling, but Bucky reminds them that you’re only his to look at, and will always be.
WC: 2.1k
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You wished you could have turned back to the few seconds you’d lived through before stumbling into your Husband’s office door. The silence in the room was deafening, at least for you it was. Alpine was all the least bothered, the white cat jumping across furniture to furniture without disturbing the decorations within. Your footsteps faltered quickly, suddenly stuck in your spot as you fell under the eyes of the familiar people that sat around the long meeting table. Men to be exact, the same exact group of men that had always been there to accidentally witness too far into yours and Bucky’s marriage.
Over the course of your relationship with Bucky, there had been one too many times where your husband’s men had caught you in compromising positions. Given that you were posed in such, you were always clad in near to nothing. The most you’d get to cover yourself with during  those unfortunate times that you’ve gotten caught was either the thin material of yours and Bucky’s bed sheet, or his discarded suit jacket as he pounded you from behind on his work desk. One too many times of embarrassment and humiliation on your side.
You were sort of sure that Bucky’s eyes were literally shining at the mere sight of you. Although he wasn’t the only one that was caught in a trance after your sudden appearance. The sight of you clad in nothing else but that fitting tank top that you'd wear to sleep was enough to make a grown man shiver. 
The stretchy fabric pressed around all the right areas, and the extras clung around your protruding belly. God and how much you hated that, your postpartum body that you’d glare at in the midst of the night while your baby laid sleeping. How It would take so much time for it to go, and how much you’d wish to have your old body back. Though Bucky loved it, he’d never fail to remind you of how beautiful you were, of how normal this all was because you had literally been carrying a whole baby inside of there. 
You knew how much your husband loved the sight of that little belly of yours, but you’d never be able to tell how much it aroused the others as well. All of the eyes were on you, especially on how your breast threatened to spill out of the U-cut top that you wore. You were very well aware of the change, and how could you not? No matter the size that your breasts had been before, that had now tripled, if not quadrupled during pregnancy. They were so sore and heavy from carrying so much milk, and you cursed your husband for giving you a baby that required so much milk. 
Not that you were genuinely complaining though, you loved your son more than yourself, and it didn’t matter if you had to suffer for him. You would and you were. 
Nevertheless, you staggered for a second as you closed the door, suddenly very aware of the group of men that watched you and your baby gurgling across your chest. You adjusted your hand to pat along your baby’s back, standing up straighter as you shivered under all the eyes. No, you weren’t embarrassed because of your attire. In fact you couldn’t care less about that, you showing skin had never been a sore spot in yours and Bucky’s relationship, he had no concerns with you wearing revealing clothes.
In fact he loved that you loved your body enough to do so. At the start of your relationship it was hard for you to even open up to him about your naked skin, after being put down by the other men that were now an awful part of your past. He was by no means an insecure man, and you were by no means an unfaithful woman, so everything worked out as it should. 
Furthermore, Bucky loved the sight of those snobby men checking you out at every given moment that he’d be far from your reach. He loved the sight of seeing those desperate men tracing your form as though to map it in their minds, a memory that they’d keep until they’d finally arrive home late at night, hands sinfully low in the shower as cold ran down their backs. 
Bucky loved watching those scums approach you as though they had a chance, before seeing you mouth what you’d always say. “Not interested, I'm married.”  before shoving your ringed finger in their face, a wicked grin plastered on your face before turning around to look for your loving husband. It was funny to him, watching their downturned expressions and you’d stare at your ring with such admiration, so much love that you held for him and him only. 
Though on the few unfortunate nights where those ratty men just refused to understand, he’d make sure to make his way to you. Towering over the men no matter their height, an intimidating look crowding his face as he keeps his arms around your form. He made sure to send one of his men after the cowering scum at the end of the night, and much to your confusion, you’d somewhat never seen them again after that.  
It was a funny sight at first, seeing your 6 foot tall, tatted mafia boyfriend getting all giddy because you’d confessed that you were finally confident enough in your skin to start wearing more open clothes. You were wearing those clothes by your own want and will, because of your newfound confidence and self love that you developed because of him. Your loving, mafia boyfriend that was now your husband, and inevitably the father of your child.
Now as you stood in Bucky’s office, you were simply embarrassed because you’d accidently interrupted your husband’s meeting, the defect of your motherly brain, you’d forgotten to knock before entering. Now everyone stared at you like a deer in headlights, you couldn’t help the heat that crept up your neck. 
“Detka, is there anything that you’re looking for? Anything you need?” you watched as Bucky stood up from his chair at the head of the table, making his way towards you as the heels of his expensive Italian dress shoes clicked against the marble floor. You wanted nothing more but to melt onto a puddle at the sound of his gentle tone, and your fatigue did nothing to help ease that thought. 
“A-actually I was going to ask you if you were hungry but now I see that you’re busy so, I’ll just ask again later,” you stuttered, rambling your thoughts as you urged to leave the room. If not careful, you could’ve slipped alongside your innocent baby as you left the room, but Bucky couldn’t just let you go like that. Sure he wanted to ask you what was wrong, stop you and demand why you’d rush out of the room. Not out of preeminence, but out of worry. 
Though it was obvious by your nervously racking eyes and straight posture that you wanted nothing else than to leave the room, he followed you instead. Carefully clicking the door shut behind him, he left his men inside of the room to wonder by themselves. Bucky considered them family, like brothers, so they’d understand. He was sure of it. 
Bucky turned around after closing the door, catching you bouncing your son back to sleep after you’d heard his weak grumbling. Your husband watched with heart eyes as the little Lev raises his even tinier fists to your chest, throwing an unreasoned angry fit against his poor momma. A raspy chuckle escapes Bucky’s throat as your son’s fists come crashing down against your collarbone rather robotically, and it’s not strong enough to even hurt you, but odd enough to startle you for a second. 
Finally deciding to snap out of his awfully lovestruck trance, he sauntered towards you. The palm of his hand was warm against your arm, and it somewhat comforted you as you relished in his touch. “What’s wrong malyshka? Everything’s alright? Hope little Lev isn’t causing you too much trouble, god knows how loud he’s already been since this morning.” your husband joked, but you shuddered at the memory of getting begrudgingly out of bed at 4 in the morning because of your yelling baby.
Your heart picked up the pace at the sound of the nickname he’d reserved for you, and you felt yourself going shy before the very own man that’d seen every part of you, beyond and inside. Everything. 
“I was making lunch and I was going to bring it to you, but I forgot to knock and look at where that brought me.” you laughed off the memory now that it was over, there was no need to drown in remorse over such a silly thing. Bucky’s eyes flashed towards the side table that laid against the wall near the huge doors of his meeting room, and apparently you had no free hands either because there laid a plate of his abandoned lunch upon the smooth wooden surface of the table. 
It was his favourite dish, and Bucky unconsciously smiled at the thought of you being so keen to bring it to him because of that. Your husband’s baby blue eyes racked your body once more, taking notice of the pair of oversized sweatpants that you were wearing, those that were so obviously his. The sweats were so big on you that the strings upon your waist were painfully tightened, but no matter how many pairs of your own that your husband would buy you, no matter the price or top notch quality, you’d always find more comfort in his old, worn out ones that he’d beg you to throw away. 
“You’re so beautiful, Malyshka. Thank you for the food, I'll have it as soon as I'm done with my meeting.” his warm, large palm cupped your cheek. You couldn’t help but lean into his touch, relishing in his love before he leaves to tend to his work once more. Sure, you’d see him in a couple of minutes, and his free time would last until tomorrow morning, but you wanted to be with him 24/7. 
Bucky’s eyes then trailed down towards Lev, who was peacefully drooling away with his head squished against your chest. With his thumb still rubbing soothingly at your cheek, Bucky signalled you to go relax with Lev until he orders his men out, then motioned to one of the nearby maids to take his plate back to the kitchen until he was done, just so you didn’t have to move your pinky more than you needed to. 
With you back in the comfort of your plush king sized bed alongside your son, and Bucky’s consciousness now at peace, he made his way back towards the heavy doors of his meeting room. The look on his face changed as soon as the doors clicked shut once more, and this time, the softened look completely left his features. There were no more signs of tenderness upon Bucky’s face. 
The change was intimidatingly scary, his face now completely still and the menacing glow in his eyes did nothing to soothe them. For, it wasn’t like Bucky’s team believed that they were innocent. You didn't need to be hawk-eyed to see that they were obviously ogling you, their boss's wife, and the mother of his child at that. 
Rolling up the sleeves of his suit jacket, the exposed sight of his fully tattooed arm made the grown men shiver. Forlorn excuses of men lowered their heads as Bucky walked past them, a sign of respect as though they hadn’t just snubbed him by looking a little too hard at what was his. 
Yes, Bucky would call these people his brothers, and yes he did appreciate them when times came.
He often took the role of the eldest in the family. He was highly respected upon the mob, and he cared for them as they did for him. Yet living under his roof required to obey the rules that he had set up, and the most important one was; look, don't touch. 
Though they’d manage to abide by that rule for as long as they’d set foot inside his home, they were truly starting to test their luck. Tonight, Bucky would make sure that none of them returned to their rooms without being taught a new additional rule. Perhaps this one would take the top place above  the previous one, and this time, there’d be no more looking allowed. 
-
i profoundly apologize to y’all bcuz this is my first Bucky ff and idk wtf this is
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niluffa · 7 months
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tw : subby sukuna, praising, really ooc | cw : 0,8k
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“you wanna cum?” you whisper into sukuna’s ear. his back was firmly pressed against your chest, your bicep barely brushing past his waist as you stroked his cock from behind.
this was embarrassing. he was the king of curses, you were supposed to be the one begging for release, not him. guess the tables have changed a bit too quickly.
“y-yeah,” sukuna whines, voice and throat raw from the amount of times he screamed his lungs out─how many times did he cum again? sukuna can’t remember, and if you asked for the number, he would be screwed.
“yeah, pretty boy?” you chuckle, slowing your hand down on purpose. he has been through so many orgasms, he can take a small break, can’t he?
according to him, the answer is no.
“no!” sukuna sobs out at the lack of sensation on his cock, and he knew you did it to play with him─taking your one and only chance to mock and toy with the ryomen sukuna himself.
but how can he think of himself as mighty when he’s begging for your hand to start moving again?
“what do we say when─” you get cut off.
“p-please!” sukuna cries, hands aggressively itching to just grab you by your throat and force you on his cock─which, he doesn’t, since even though he’s the strongest, he’s a bit scared of you, (he’ll never admit it.)
“oh?” usually, you would slap him for cutting you off, but for now, you took your time to admire your two hours of hard work.
sukuna’s entire body was covered with sweat, his muscles gleaming under the orange tones of the sunset that peeked from behind the curtains.
tears, drool, and snot ran down his face. the normal sight of a crying person was a red face─which sukuna couldn’t dodge. the angry red colour dusted his cheeks, matching the current state of his cock.
the shade of red his poor dick held was so unintentionally gorgeous, it almost brought tears to your eyes.
in reality, it didn’t─your face holding zero amount of pity.
“good pet,” you praised him as if you trained a dog─telling him what things he did correctly and what he messed up. taming the king of curses wasn’t easy, but you did notice minor changes in his behavior.
your hand sped up. yes, you could stay at the painfully slow pace and watch sukuna cry himself to another orgasm. but he’s been such a sweetheart lately, and how could you deny his pleasure when he looks at you with those glossy crimson eyes of his?
“yes, yes, yes,” sukuna babbled at the sudden change of speed. his sharp fangs sunk into his bottom lip in an attempt to hide his moan─which failed as he still managed to choke out a few weak whimpers.
you’ve seen sukuna in many states, and his superhuman stamina never failed to amaze you, whether it was in a fight or during your intimate times in the bedroom.
but even then, you could see that sukuna was slowly reaching his limits. his throat was raw, only able to create the same pair of weak whimpers and whines.
it was visible on his face too. the way his eyelids struggled to stay open, and his mouth opening and closing like a fish. he kept switching between biting his lip to hide his moans and letting his jaw drop so he could gasp for air.
nevertheless, he was close.
“p-please,” sukuna chokes out again. the back of his head rested against your shoulder as he brutally failed to keep his spine straight─it’s not like he wanted to look at his cock being stroked either.
“i know, ‘kuna, i know,” you whisper and for the sake of ending his suffering, your wrist moves faster. sukuna felt the soft pad of your thumb brush against his tip every time your hand went up and he yelped.
“f-fuck!” sukuna cries, mouth hanging open to let out the most hot-blooded moans you’ve ever heard. damn, if only you had recorded him, you were sure his onlyfans would pay your rent for months.
“g-gonna cum─” sukuna gets cut off by his own moan, which was rather high-pitched and almost too feminine for the way he looked. the familiar burning feeling inside his tummy rose every second, tears and snot pouring down his face.
“‘s okay,” you coo at him, thumb circling around his hole every now and then─sukuna sob, and you grin, “you can let go, hm?” sukuna doesn’t argue, he doesn’t growl, hiss, or yell like he always does.
he listens and comes. and when he does, he comes hard.
the overwhelming feeling of release washes over him, thin and watery ropes of cum, that were caused by the unknown amount of orgasms he had before, landing right on right on his chest.
“you did so good,” you hum and continue to milk his cock to help him get rid of every last bit that was left of him; even against his protests of “too much!”
but in the end, he got his release, so who is he to complain?
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levitiquee · 7 months
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"Hey."
A husky voice spoke right beside your ear, startling you. You felt arms wrap around your waist from behind, warmth pressing against your neck.
"Huh–" You turned your head around, caught off guard. But your shoulders relaxed the moment you realized it was him. "Oh hi, it's you."
Levi rested his head on your shoulder, spreading his legs so they went around where you were sitting, practically slumping on you
"Mhm, were you hoping it was someone else?" Levi mumbled sleepily, snuggling deeper, pressing a soft kiss into the skin before burying his face into the crook of your neck.
"Never." You smiled.
You were sitting on the bed of the spare bedroom, papers and books spread across you. You work best in bed. But Levi was so tired tonight, he had went to bed early, and you hadn't the heart to disrupt his sleep. Which is why you had to seek refuge in the guest bedroom instead.
"You made a mess." He huffed, noticing the absolute chaos of papers and books you have made in the bed.
"We don't have much guests either way. This room is practically going to waste. But fine," You reassure him. "I'll clean up later, I swear."
"You always say that. Weeks will pass, the mess will stay the same." He mutters.
"Alright, you neat-freak, did you wake up just to take a nick at how unorganized I am?" You raise a brow, shooting a glance sideways, pretending to be annoyed. You failed to bite back the smile tugging on your lips though."You should be asleep."
"Shouldn't you too?" He pouted. "I can't sleep if you're not there."
"I know," You raised your hand, ruffling his hair. It was already messy, indicating he'd been tossing and turning in the bed for a while now. "I just really need to finish this article, alright? Go to bed, I'll be there."
"Is your work more important than me?" His head turned sideways, the silver of his eyes glinting through sleep-heavy lids. He almost looked like a pouty kid, needy for attention. You turned your head to press your forehead against his, pressing against the warmth of his body. He was always so warm.
"Levi, I promise. Just 5 minutes."
"I gave you 2 hours." He frowned.
"5 more minutes. Finishing touches."
"In the morning. Come to bed."
"Just 5 minutes!" You laughed when he shook his head, his hair tingling your neck.
"5 seconds."
"Levi."
"5." He began counting.
You rolled your eyes, amused. "No way, you're doing that."
"4."
"I'm serious."
"3."
"Two minutes?"
"2."
You squirmed against his hold, struggling to loosen his grip. You tugged forward, but you couldn't even budge.
Curse Levi and his Ackerman strength.
"1."
"Okay, I'm serious, let me g–"
You didn't even get a second before you were hoisted up in the air, thrown over his shoulder. A surprised squeal escaped you but the next thing you know you were in your bedroom. He dropped you on it, bed creaking underneath the sudden weight. Then he slid in, pulling the covers and tucking the both of you under it, an arm wrapping around you so you were pressed firmly against his chest and very unable to move.
"You work too hard for your own good." He mumbled, voice already raspy from the exhaustion clouding over him.
"Says the workaholic and the insomniac." You protest.
"You talk a lot, don't you?" He sighed softly. "Go to sleep. If you don't get enough rest you get cranky in the morning."
"I suffer from cranky Levi everyday. You should get a taste." You grinned.
"I'm not cranky."
"No. You're like a moody teenager on her period."
"Shut up." He tugged your ear, a playful gesture to show that he was annoyed. But the slightest quirk of his mouth didn't escape your eyes, as small as it was. "Need my sleep, love. Can't have that if you're not here."
"Yeah?" You exhaled, sleep caressing your eyes as well. But the nickname still made you grin. Hearing words of endearment from Levi was such a rare thing, you felt giddy whenever he addressed you like that. It's not that he doesn't love you, it's just he's gets too flustered and embarrassed whenever the words slip out, which just makes the moments all the more special.
Like now, how he screwed up his face the instant he realized.
"No." He said in a warning tone.
Too late. You grinned. "Call me darling."
"No."
"Sweetheart?"
"No."
"Honeypie?"
"Absolutely not."
"Sweat pea?"
"What the fuck." He groaned. "I swear you get worse every day."
"I'm serious. Why not?"
"Because they're ridiculous."
"Okay. How about Fuzzball?"
"What the hell is that even supposed to mean?"
"Pumpkin?"
"Why, just why?"
You reached up, bringing your mouth closer to his ears. "Mommy?" You whispered.
He jolted. "I will smack you with this pillow." He says flatly, keeping his face expressionless. "Go to sleep before I knock you out myself."
You nodded, pressing the back of your hand to stifle your laugher, your shoulders shaking. But you decided that was quite enough for Levi. At least for one night.
"Roger." You sighed, throwing an arm over him. "Goodnight, babe."
"Brat." He grumbled, turning his head and hiding his face in the pillow.
Not before you caught the flush on his face though.
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@sad-darksoul
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emo-batboy · 2 months
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Somewhere out there in the DC multiverse, there’s a world where Battinson’s parents didn’t die, and he became the Lance Stroll of Formula One racing. Wayne Enterprises has an F1 team, Thomas brought Bruce to races when he was young, they indulged his love of cars until he was winning kart races at 8. He BEGGED to help design the race cars, ended up making a great car, and now Wayne has turned from a midfield team to nearly top three.
You’d think everyone hates Bruce because he’s a nepo baby, but he’s just so nice and smiley (like Lance lol) that everyone loves him anyway. His dad is the team’s chairman and pretty hands-on just like Lawrence Stroll. Fans call Bruce the F1 Princess as a joke since he’s already the Prince of Gotham, but then it sticks, and now everyone makes edits of him with tiaras on every time he makes it to the podium. He doesn’t get it, but he’s not going to complain either. His fans are just silly. (He blushes so much when anyone calls him princess to his face, though. Fight me.)
Bruce still insists on everything being black because it’s his favorite color. It was already mostly black before he joined, but now it’s even blacker. His suit is all black. The car is all black. The helmet is all black. He loves it. He looks just like the dark, regal old money rich boy you’d imagine until he’s smiling and talking about racing. (Imagine a meme with two cars next to each other, one being WE’s. It says: “Bruce’s Car v. Bruce’s Personality.” The other one is covered in glitter obv.) One time, a little girl gives him a tiara that she painted black herself and asks him to wear it if he wins. (He does win. He puts it on at the podium. He’s embarrassed the entire time. The champagne rubs some of the black away. It’s a treasured memory and sits right on top in his trophy case.)
His fellow drivers call him Brucie to tease him. He’s a bit awkward during interviews, but that just makes him endearing. He’s also tall for an F1 driver (nepo baby core) so there’s always jokes about him towering over everyone. One time, he came second to Lewis Hamilton, but you could still see he was visibly standing taller on the podium, and people would not stop making jokes about it. (It was mostly his hair, but you know how Twitter is.) Speaking of hair, it will NOT stay flat. He looks insane every time he takes his helmet off. He could be sweating for hours in there but when he takes the thing off, he looks like he’s through in a tornado. (Again, memes.) He knows so much about car mechanics, even for a driver, and will regularly start talking to other drivers or the press about the tiniest of parts in the engine or break system, unaware that everyone is completely lost. (Also memes about that.)
When he’s 23, he suffers a pretty bad crash. It knocks him out for about twenty seconds, and his mom and dad are ready to pull him completely from the sport, but he refuses to stop, and despite missing a few races to recover—his dad’s still a doctor—he ends up winning the next race and gets to stay.
During his F1 career, it’s pretty much guaranteed that he’ll get fastest laps, but he only gets podium like 40–50% of the time. There’s always drama that apparently Wayne Enterprises is trying to become top three, but they insist that they’re not as competitive. They will always have respect for every team, and it shows. They never join in on protests. They always wish the other teams luck, and they genuinely congratulate the winners. Bruce is always the first to hug the winner :)
Before Bruce joined, the Wayne team was always a midfield team, and they were perfectly comfortable with it. WE had good-looking cars, they designed good-looking cars, and they sold good-looking cars, and F1 was just a way of promoting that. Thomas loved watching the races, and he was happy to see them get podium a few times per season, and that was it.
Until Bruce became their lead driver, and he wanted to really earn his seat, and he wanted to get podium, and he wanted to design a faster car, and he wanted to win, and Thomas Wayne couldn’t say no to his son, and suddenly Wayne Enterprises was inching closer and closer to the front of the grid. Now, they’re still not The Best, but they’re a team that future drivers look up to.
During a season of DTS, Bruce is 27. Netflix films the Wayne episode when there’s a fatal crash in F2, and Bruce was nearby when it happened. He ends up crying on camera for ten minutes. They had to cut almost all of it, but we get the most gut-wrenching confessional about how after he heard the news, in that moment, he didn’t want to be an F1 driver. He admits that if he hadn’t become a driver, he was going to become a doctor like his father, and he wonders if he could have saved the driver’s life if he did that instead. “What am I really doing if I can’t help others? I could have been anything…Maybe being a driver was selfish. Maybe I don’t belong on the track anymore.”
He’s visibly distraught during the moment of silence on the day of the race, but Bruce decided to continue because he wants to make the fans and spectators happy. (That’s his job, anyway. That’s what he does.) Despite getting pole position the previous day, he doesn’t get fastest lap or make it to the podium, but he still gets fourth. He has a long talk with his father away from cameras and calls his mom. The future’s uncertain for a few days until Bruce comes back to training. To finish the episode, he says he’s going to continue driving, even if he might need a bit of time to get his confidence back, and he pledges to one day make the safest F1 car ever seen. Even if it’s part of the risk of being a driver, he doesn’t want to see any more drivers losing their lives to the sport they love.
When he’s around 35 or 40, he retires from Formula One so he can inherit Wayne Enterprises, and he takes his father’s place as chairman of the team. Since he has the time now, he holds up on his promise to make an even safer car—the designs inspiring safer car designs for other teams as well—and they pick out two incredible drivers who end up finally (FINALLY) moving Wayne Enterprises into one of the top three teams. They win the world championship twice in a row before falling back a bit and only winning it every couple of years, but they’re nonetheless fierce competitors. Bruce still has a ton of kids, some of which like F1 just like he does, but he is the only Wayne to become a Formula One driver.
I just think Battinson would love driving for F1 :)
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sinfullyrosey · 9 months
Text
Pushing Your Buttons
Lilia Vanrouge X Fem!Reader
Warnings: Fingering, Orgasm Denial, Oral, Semi-Public, Misuse of Magic
Got like three people in my inbox asking for more General Lilia, but I don’t do requests and this fic has been sitting unfinished for months now. So, no general fae, but current papa bat using phantom magic to mess with his favorite little, magicless human.~
I just realized I have written a male reader, gn reader, and now fem reader for this old fart. The triangle of smut is complete.
Also, I apologize in advance for my terrible text speech skills. I personally don’t type like that normally and struggle to do so for fic purposes.
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You were slowly going insane. Absolutely bonkers. Throw you in a padded cell and lock away the key levels of mad. Couldn’t even concentrate on the simple tasks given to you by that aggravating crow without your mind immediately buzzing from the searing hot sensation between your nether regions.
Simply ignoring it had become impossible by this point. It has been nearly an hour now since it all started and nearly an hour have you suffered at the hands of that old bat. Running all over campus, delivering papers and whatnot, all the while your pussy is being played with like some handheld controller!
Another whine slipped past your clenched teeth once more as a particular spike of pleasure shot through you and made your stomach twist even tighter. You faltered, almost tripping on nothing along the pathway, and decided to stop and steady yourself as those fingers worked at your wet folds.
You heaved a shaky sigh and began to rummage through your school bag for your phone. Pulling it out, your knees buckling when you felt yourself growing wetter, the feeling of something dripping causing you to panic. So far you had been good to keep yourself together and, surprisingly, the fingers had been rather merciful, only occasionally grazing along your slit or palming at your mounds for only a few seconds.
But now they had just gotten bolder and more persistent, lingering longer against your folds, spreading your lips and pressing around your entrance. Sharpened nails playfully raking along your thighs or pinching your skin. At one point they even groped at the spot where your thighs and butt cheeks meet and suddenly squeezed them, making you yelp and startle the hallway full of confused students.
Thankfully, you were in a more secluded place on campus right now, free from the leering eyes of male students as they watched you slowly fall apart.
With trembling hands, you tapped on your messaging app to type up a response to the culprit behind your cruel torment.
‘Lilia plz knock it off’
You waited patiently for a reply. With some relief, you felt the hands temporarily release themselves from you, presumably to type a response back. A break that was short lived, however, as the moment your phone dinged from the incoming reply, you once again felt the hands begin to rub at you. This time, much rougher, and with purpose.
‘Now, why ever would I do that little one? The fun part has just begun.~’
As soon as you finished reading his text, you suddenly let out a pitched moan when you felt his thumb gently press down on your previously neglected clit. Your walls tightened as he rolled the sensitive nub in circles, fingers spreading your pussy open to play with the folds as your whole body shook.
You could definitely feel yourself dripping now, clear slick running down your thighs and soaking the top part of your thigh highs socks. You clutched the helm of your skirt, trying to pull it down and cover more of your front in embarrassment. You were really hating that he had removed your panties earlier on when he first started to tease you. Being so exposed an unable to keep from soaking yourself in your own mess was making everything so much worse.
You typed frantically the best you could while trying to ignore the sensation of his skilled fingers
‘U and ur stupid magic fantom hand thingys are drivin me crazy!!1’
You could only muffle your squeals and moans the best you could, looking around to make sure you were still alone as you stumbled over to somewhere with a bit more privacy. With the insistent prodding and palming of your pussy, you could only find a bench to sit down on to prevent yourself from falling and hurting yourself.
‘Oh, I just love to push your buttons dear! And this little one of yours is my absolute favorite to push and play with! So small. So cute. Just like you!~’
You let out a needy whine as he playfully pinched the puffy bud between his fingers, gently tweaking it and making your body tense up from the delicious sensation.
‘And it elicits such adorable sounds from you too.~’
Your legs trembled and shook as you spread them out more, giving him better access to your needy hole that was just dripping in anticipation for him. Two of his fingers easily slipped past your entrance, pumping themselves inside you at a leisurely pace. Waves of euphoria were crashing down onto you as your vision grew hazy from the pleasure.
The wooden bench was stained from your juices as you continued to leak from where you sat. you clutched onto the bench ends the more that coil twisted and tightened under his ministries. You were panting and moaning as his fingers found that special, spongey spot in you and began to abuse it with each pump.
All your previous responsibilities were long forgotten as Lilia fingered you with his magickly-produced phantom hands. His thumb still pressing and circling your overly sensitive clit as he worked you towards an orgasm.
Your toes were curling in your shoes, head thrown back as you felt yourself slowly approach your much anticipated release. Your body was impatiently bouncing slightly in the seat, moving to meet his own thrusts and pounding harder into your G spot. Your eyes closed tightly, vision blurring, and breath quickening when you felt yourself on the edge of pure euphoria.
And all at once, it suddenly stopped.
The phantom hands ceased their movements, slipping out of your warm hole, leaving your walls to clench along nothing. The coil was left to relax and simmer down, but still tight from the brink of release that was stolen from it. You blinked blurrily, vision still spotty as your head came to the conclusion of what just happened. Your pussy fluttering and still leaking, but empty and unsatisfied.
“Wah-?!” You slurred.
You quickly looked down, lifting up your skirt to see that the hands had completely disappeared. Your stomach dropped, panic rising as you stumbled to reach for your phone that you had tossed aside when you first sat down. Your eyes scanned to see if he had left anymore texts or if he was in the process of typing, only to see it completely silent. Your fingers quickly tapped away in desperation as anger flared within you at this cheeky old bastard.
‘Lilia wat the fuck?!1!’
You seethed as you saw the bubble with three little dots appear, indicating he was typing and very much still around, hands available, yet not putting them to good use. Like giving you that much deserved orgasm!
‘Oh my, just a few minutes ago you were telling me to “knock it off” and leave you be?’
‘Lilia Im literally going to explode’
You could just hear him chuckling at your response from wherever he was right now. You let out a huff, rubbing your thighs together to get some sort of relief, but to no avail, so you gave up. You were just about ready to call him to give him a piece of your mind when another text popped into chat.
‘Best be on your way and finish your errands. Don’t want to keep you waiting any longer now, dear.’
To end off his text and further punctuate his point, he used the phantom hand again to promptly flick your reddened clit, sharp nail scraping against it and sending a sudden shock wave of pleasure bolting to your core and causing you to double over. Your cunt clenched around nothing and you let out a desperate keen.
You glared angrily at his text, a few tears building up from frustration as you aggressively tapped away on your phone. You may be too pissed to call this irritating fae to yell his ear off, but you weren’t angry enough not to send him a few choice words.
‘plz plz plz PLEASE just let me cum already Vanrouge!!1 im horny im stressed and im about ready to make my way to diasomnia and whoop ur old creaky ass you fae fuck!1!!’
You continued to glare at your phone screen, waiting for your annoyingly charming fae lover to respond to your rather childish, but justified outburst via text.
‘Alright, if you insist.~’
Success.
You grin in victory, spreading your legs in anticipation of his hands lavishing you once more and finally rewarding you with the well-deserved orgasm. You felt the phantom hands on your thighs once more, spreading you further.
And then you felt the sensation of something warm and wet slowly lapping over your slit, spreading your folds and grazing over your sensitive clit. You let out a loud gasp, body tensing at the realization of what he was doing.
Your eyes widened as his phantom tongue began its torturous pattern of slowly lapping along your folds, before reaching your clit and sucking on it briefly, then starting all over again. You could feel your juices leaking out of you once more with each suck and lick, your phone dinging with incoming texts.
‘You taste absolutely divine, my dear. Still just as sweet and juicy as last time.~’
He made a point to dip his tip into your clenching cunt, lapping up your slick, then sucking up your release messily. You let out soft moans as your body convulsed under his touch.
‘In fact, I think I’ll enjoy this meal for a little while.~’
It was the sharp sensation of a pair of fangs gently nibbling on your poor clit that finally had you losing your mind as your moans grew louder and body helplessly approaching your orgasm once more. But every time you reached that edge, he would slow down or stop briefly until you settled down once more.
‘After all, you never clarified when to make you cum.~’
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luveline · 6 months
Note
halloweekend is starting early here and i’m dressed as a slutty nun, has me thinking what would hotch think seeing you in a sexy (perhaps taboo) halloween costume?? maybe he had to work late so he came to the halloween party straight from the office so you met there, and he’s holding himself back bc you look sooooo good….
cw suggestive mdni
Hotch grew up in a time full to bursting with slut-shaming and self-expression alike. Women wore tiny dresses as they wear now, and he never thought himself a sexist —he never had a problem with a slip of skin. 
But this is… Well, he's ashamed of himself for wanting to wrap you up in his suit jacket and ferry you home. 
"Handsome!" you yell, jumping off of the garden seat you'd been sitting in with a drink slipping down your fingers. "You actually came! You're here!" 
He's thinking and thank God I did, because he trusts you, and he doesn't think for a second you'd entertain other people, but he can't imagine missing out on this. This is a lot. 
"You're drinking?" he asks, not scornful, just surprised. 
"I didn't know you were coming and I'm bored out of my mind! But this is my first, sweetheart." You offer it to him. "So no, I wouldn't say I'm drinking." 
He takes your drink, his head racing with thoughts of your naked arms and legs, your sheer white babydoll dress. "Is this lingerie?" 
"It's my costume," you whine gently. "Why do people keep asking me that?" 
Hotch slides his empty hand down the length of your side, the tulle of your baby doll soft as down on his palm. "And you're a… angel?" 
"Duh. You can't see my halo, but it's there." 
Your waist in his hand, the warmth of your skin seeping slow in his, Hotch can almost ignore the surrounding party goers and all their noise, until a friend comes forward demanding an introduction, and another. We've been waiting to meet her oh-so-intimidating beau. Hotch suffers it with his hand behind your shoulders, but eventually it's too much, his hand is sliding under your babydoll's fabric to grab at the small of your back indulgently. His pinky finger flirts with the band of your 'shorts'. 
"What are you doing?" you whisper through a laugh. 
"I'm embarrassed. I'm not even in costume." 
"Yeah?" 
"Maybe we should just go home." 
Your laughter is a shriek as he pulls you into his side. He's kidding, he'll stay at your party tonight for as long as you want to stay like a fish out of water, but he can't be expected to not flirt with you. 
"You're getting antsy, Hotchner," you say, like it's the best thing a man can be. 
"This is ridiculous." 
"I picked it out with you in mind." You lift your chin, words spoken warmly into the shell of his ear. "It might look like underwear to you, but there's something underneath it that says otherwise. So play nice and I'll give you a behind the scenes of how I chose my costume." 
"I'm always nice," he says. 
"No," you say, your smile mock-demure, your hand on his abdomen, just a little too low, "you're not. That's why…" You turn on the spot to your bag resting on the table and pull out a pair of red-horns on a headband. "I got you these. But once you put them on you have to keep them on." 
"Is that the rule for this?" he asks, tugging on your babydoll. 
You only hum. Hotch loses his mind one song at a time until you let him take you home, devil horns intact.  
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Text
Left at the Altar - Hangman
Pairing: Hangman / (Ex-Girlfriend) Fem!Reader
Word Count: 2.2k
Warnings: Light Angst; Drama; Getting Left at the Altar (Not by Hangman); Asshole Ex (Not Hangman); Second Person POV ("You"), No Y/N, No Physical Description for the Reader
This work, all of my other works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only.
Summary: When you get left at the altar, a familiar face swoops in to save the day.
Edit: Part 2 Part 3 Epilogue
Master List
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Ever hit rock bottom? Well, you thought you did. And then you got stood up at your own wedding.
Staring up at the altar, you slowly sat down in the front pew. You sat your bouquet down beside you and reached up to pull out the pins holding your veil in place. You definitely weren’t going to need them. Not after the text message that you received from your ex-fiancé.
That’s right. You got dumped on your wedding day through a text message.
And frankly, the part about the whole situation that annoyed you the most was the fact that you should have been the one to dump him. You were the one who threatened to call the wedding off months ago when you found some suspicious text messages between your fiancé and a woman labelled as ‘Domino’s’ in his phone.
As if anyone texted Domino’s about their secluded lake house.
You should have just pulled the plug on the whole thing when you had the chance. Instead, you let him dump and humiliate you publicly.
Taking a deep breath, you glanced around the small church. Most of the guests filed out when it became apparent that there was a runaway groom. All of the people that remained in the church were a few close friends and immediate family members.
Your ex-fiancé’s family stood awkwardly in the corner, not really sure what to do. There wasn’t a really good or efficient way to apologize for their cowardly bastard of a son without suffering some rather intense glares from your family and friends. You already gave the engagement ring back to your ex-fiancé’s mom, since it was supposedly a family heirloom.
Maybe you should have just flushed it down the toilet instead.
You looked forward again when your mom walked over to you. She gave you a small, comforting smile as she pushed your veil and bouquet to the side and sat down beside you. Your mom stared up at the altar for a moment, seemingly walking through what she was going to say to you. She reached out and grabbed your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
“It’ll be okay, sweetie,” she whispered to you. “You’ll get past this.”
“I know,” you replied, nodding slowly. “I know, Mom.”
“Do you need anything?”
“No,” you replied softly, shaking your head. Letting out a breath, you turned back to your mom with a composed expression. “Why don’t you and everyone else go and eat at the venue? It’d be stupid to let all of that food go to waste. We already paid for it.”
“Actually, his family offered to pay for everything. Even your dress,” your mom explained, glancing over at your supposed-to-be in laws. “They were extremely embarrassed.”
“Can’t imagine why,” you drawled sarcastically, shaking your head. You let out a breath before you turned back to your mom. “Has Dad calmed down?”
“Somewhat. He calmed down a lot when they offered to pay for everything. But I worry for your ex if he ever crosses paths with your father again.”
“If he’s smart—which he’s not—he’ll avoid the entire county,” you replied, pursing your lips together. “He’s probably sitting at his lake house with ‘Domino’s’ right now.”
“That’s unfortunate for him,” your mom told you, causing you to nod in return.
“Damn straight.”
You and your mom shared a small smile before you sobered up for a moment. Glancing around the church, you leaned back in your pew. You turned to your mom and suddenly felt like you were a teenager again and needed her to help you with a situation that you got yourself in.
“Do you think that I could be alone for a bit?” you asked softly, folding your arms across your lap.
“Are you sure? I don’t think that you should be alone right now, sweetheart,” your mom replied, grabbing your hand. “Why don’t you just come to the venue with the rest of us? You can burn the dress if you want to, but just come with us.”
“I will, Mom, but I just need some time by myself for a little bit.”
Albeit reluctantly, your mom got up and ushered everyone else out of the church to give you some time alone. The venue was only ten minutes down the road, so your mom told you to just text her when you wanted to be picked up. You thanked her again for all of her help and support before she left with everyone else.
You slowly got to your feet after you thought that everyone else was gone. You let out a breath to calm yourself down and simply worked through some thoughts. Eventually turning for the aisle, you paused when you spotted a familiar figure walking through the church doorway.
Jake Seresin. Or Jacob Michael Seresin III, if you were going by his birth name. Or Hangman, as he supposedly went by these days. Lieutenant Jake “Hangman” Seresin.
The boy that you fell in love with when you were fifteen. Your high school boyfriend, your first love, your first everything, really. The man that, had he stayed in Texas and taken over his family’s business like he was expected to do, you probably would have already married.
But life wasn’t a fairytale. And certainly not your life.
Jake slowly walked further into the church, pulling off his dress white cap as he stepped forward. He tucked it under his arm and offered you a small smile as he stopped in front of you. His hair was perfectly gelled and styled and his dress whites were absolutely pristine. And that genuine smile, the one that he seemed to use less and less as he aged, was just like you remembered.
He looked like he stepped straight out of a dream. Out of your dream.
“I’m not too late, am I?” he asked, looking around the otherwise empty church.
“No,” you scoffed, shaking your head. You glanced up at the rafters before turning back to him. “I got left at the altar.”
Instantly, the kind, genuine smile dropped from Jake’s face. His whole demeanor changed in an instant. He frowned and opened his mouth before pausing, most likely trying to not just blurt out the first words that came to mind in a church. But his entire stance looked like he was ready to storm out of the church to drag your fiancé out of whatever hole he was hiding in.
“He didn’t show up?” Jake asked with his voice dangerously low.
“No, he sent me a text,” you explained quietly. Letting out a laugh that was meant to be humorous, but was really rather pathetic in reality, you looked away from Jake for a moment. “I mean, at least I didn’t marry him. It could be worse.”
“Where is he then?”
“Somewhere, anywhere,” you replied honestly, pursing your lips together. “Frankly, I never want to see him or hear his name ever again, so I could care less.”
“Still, he shouldn’t get away with doing this to you,” Jake stated seriously.
It had a level of force behind it that you knew wasn’t directed towards you. More like on your behalf than anything else.
Hell, Jake had always been protective over you and more than willing to fight for you. He wasn’t someone who kept a lot of close friends, but when anyone was within Jake Seresin’s inner circle, he would fight for them with everything that he had. And you knew that the state of your relationship didn’t impact that.
“He’s not worth the trouble,” you stated, waving your hand to the side. “And besides, I’d really just like to move on from all of this. If I can.”
“Of course, you can,” Jake spoke softly, reaching out to take your hand. “He’s just a . . . I can’t say the word that I want to say because we’re standing in a church.” You laughed and shook your head at Jake. “But either way, it’s his loss.”
“Thanks Jake.”
“I’m serious. I mean, any guy who looks at you, especially when you’re in that dress . . .” Jake trailed off, letting his eyes rake over your form, “. . . and doesn’t hope to be the guy standing there, waiting for you at the altar . . . he’s not worth your time.”
You felt your heart flutter in your chest, just like it used to whenever he would wave to you in the hallway between classes when you two were teenagers. And staring into Jake’s bright green eyes, you knew that he meant every word that he spoke. Rocking your joined hands back and forth, you tried to settle the wobble in your lips.
“I didn’t want it to be him,” you stated honestly, causing Jake to noticeably pick his head up. “He . . . I gave into the pressure that I should be married and moving into that stage of my life by now and . . . I should have never agreed to marry him in the first place.”
Jake nodded slowly and turned to look at the ground. A moment passed where he seemed to be trying to compose himself before he slowly picked his head up again.
“Who did you want it to be?” Jake asked softly, so softly that you didn’t hear it the first time.
“What?”
“Who did you want it to be?” he repeated, picking his head up and staring deeply into your eyes. “Waiting for you at the altar, I mean.”
Your breathing subtly picked up and your lips parted a bit at Jake’s question. And the intensity of his stare that made your entire body feel like it was on fire. Slowly and tentatively reaching out, you gently cupped Jake’s cheek with your hand and rubbed your thumb across his soft skin.
“My answer hasn’t changed,” you stated quietly as emotion started to clog your throat. “It never has.”
The two of you naturally leaned towards each other. Your bodies seemed to naturally fit together as you pressed up together. The two of you slowly leaned in until your foreheads rested together. And when he was standing this close, you could pick out all of the different colors in his eyes, which were staring down at your lips.
Gently cupping the back of your neck, Jake pulled you in for a soft kiss. Your lips moved together like they had never been parted in the first place. Not by school or deployments or life in general. For much of your adult lives, the issue was never your feelings for each other but everything else getting in the way. But right there, in that small little church in rural Texas, life wasn’t in the way.
Nothing and no one were in the way. Not anymore.
Jake dropped his hat and wrapped an arm around your waist to pull you closer. You wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders and cupped his cheek once again, guiding your lips together. It probably would have gotten you disapproving looks if anyone else was around, but for that perfect little moment, it was just the two of you.
Pulling away a few moments later, you rested your foreheads against each other’s and smiled to yourselves. Breathing a bit heavily, you trailed your fingers down Jake’s cheeks as he brushed his nose against your own.
“When do you have to leave?” you asked quietly.
“Tomorrow morning,” Jake sighed, clearly sounding disappointed. “I could barely get any time off. I actually owe Coyote a laundry list of things because he covered for me.”
“Then we shouldn’t waste any time,” you replied, trying to look on the positive side.
About ten seconds later, you and Jake hurried out of the church hand-in-hand. Jake’s rented truck was the only car in the parking lot and you both quickly made a beeline for it. Jake unlocked and opened the door for you to climb inside. You sat down and Jake hurried to push the rest of your dress inside before shutting the door.
You pulled him in for another excited kiss as he slid into the driver’s seat before Jake started his rented truck to drive the two of you to the hotel. As Jake backed out of the parking lot, you sent your mom a quick text, which was just a simple photo of Jake.
“Do you have the directions to the hotel?” Jake asked, turning back around and heading for the road.
“Yeah and the confirmation, so we can actually check in,” you mused, smiling over at him.
As Jake pulled out onto the road, you got a text back from your mom. You let out an amused noise and shook your head when you read her message.
Don’t forget protection. Or do. I wouldn’t mind a grandbaby if you two agreed on one. Love you!
You sent your mom a quick ‘love you’ text back before turning off your notifications. Jake reached out and grabbed your hand, threading your fingers together. Jake pulled your hand up to his lips and pressed a kiss to the back of your hand.
And even though this wasn’t how you expected your wedding day to go, you had to admit that this outcome was actually far better than the one you that had in mind.
Part 2 Part 3 Epilogue
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ncteez · 5 months
Text
Cherry Boy. [l.c.]
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Chapter One of "Losing it". Reminder that each chapter in this series is stand alone and can be read without reading any of the others!
A new relationship is always difficult to navigate, for Chan, it appears to be even more difficult. For you? You’re just left confused as to why your new boyfriend of a month and a half hasn’t made a move on you despite your very obvious attempts to invite him into your personal space.  You soon realize that your boyfriend is a virgin, and that’s why he’s always running away with his hands covering his bits, even through a simple goodnight kiss. 
ao3 | m.list | minors dni! | reblog for chan's happy trail
WORDCOUNT― 10k
PAIRING― lee chan x afab reader 
CONTENT― brief break up due to horrible communication skills, virginity loss, reader gets super insecure about her body and personality, fluff, smut obv
NOTE― This is the reason I gave chan the first chapter in the series. It's because of those pics...you know the ones. Anyway, shoutout to @ressonancee and @onlyhuis for proof reading this for me! love u guys with my entire being!
smut tags under cut:: 
SMUT TAGS― virginity loss, makeout session, neck kissing, tit fondling, unprotected sex, belly button kissing, mentions and focus on his happy trail, he’s ticklish oops, blowjob, premature ejaculation, pussy drunk chan forgets how to speak, desperate sex babbling, finger fucking, hand and cock guiding, cream pie 
~
Chan has a dilemma, and yes, it’s one that most men would scoff at. 
Trust him when he says that he is so very aware of what is happening around him but he simply cannot manage to muster up the courage, strength, or confidence to admit to you, his lovely and patient girlfriend, that he’s dodging your advances solely because he is the text-book definition of virgin. 
He is not only nervous about having sex for the first time, but there also comes the weight of him either not being good enough when he tries, or you laughing in his face and mocking him for it.
You, on the other hand, wouldn’t be so fucking in your head if he really could just muster up a tiny amount of confidence to say that to you. 
It has been almost two months now since he asked you to be his girlfriend, and throughout this time never once has he done more than a gentle kiss to your lips or lying a slight guiding hand to your waist. It feels so… juvenile, so… middle school for a boyfriend to treat you this way. 
Seeing as how the first three dates you went on with him seemed to suggest he was more than willing to be a fulfilling boyfriend who can, hopefully, fill all of the roles that comes with the title– you’re starting to second guess that he ever liked you at all.
Perhaps the twenty-four year old man asked you that night to be his girlfriend out of pity. Or maybe he’s simply changed his mind about you. Regardless of the reason for why he acts like this, it’s getting to you.
Deeply, actually, by this point. It only stung a bit at first, but now it’s starting to feel like he has to be with you as a joke. Why else would he be consistent in wanting to hang out? Why else would he always be inviting you out on well-priced dates and buying you pretty gifts? 
It’s a joke. 
It has to be a joke. 
Oh, but that’s so far from the truth. If you would simply open your eyes, perhaps you’d notice the struggle that your polite little boyfriend goes through each time you try to suggest he make an advance on you. 
Even the slight kisses, it makes him suffer from embarrassment at how quickly his body reacts to you. 
He likes you so, so fucking much.
~
“I don’t think I’m feeling it today.” You respond to the muffled voice of your “boyfriend” on the phone, asking if he can come over to see you. 
“What? Why not?” He asks back, his voice concerned. 
“Do you want me to be honest?” You finally say with a long and annoyed sigh, giving up on any hope that this relationship will ever go any further than it already has. 
You’re fed up with feeling unwanted, undesired, and possibly even uninteresting. He’s the one person in your life that you care about when it comes to who you are and what you look like. His reaction, or lack thereof, regarding you as both a person and his girlfriend feels astonishing and does nothing more than make you question what it is that you’re doing wrong. 
It has to be you, right? Perhaps your body isn’t as pretty as he wants it to be, is that it? Or maybe your voice annoys him? God, what if he cringes thinking of how you’d move if he were to actually have sex with you? What if he doesn’t think about it at all? 
You pinch the bridge of your nose, trying not to let the intense insecurity weigh on you. You always promised yourself that you’d never let a man make you rethink your worth. 
You need to live up to that promise. 
“Chan, it’s been nice and all, but I think we should break up.” 
The silence he offers to you is entirely too loud, and feels more like a confirmation in your head that this is the exact choice you should be making right now. 
He’s thrown for a loop though, standing at his kitchen table staring off at the wall as you say those words. 
What did he do wrong? 
“Wha–” He cuts himself off, trying to find words to say. “What’s wrong? Did I do something?” 
You let out another breathy sigh, annoyed at the way he plays dumb. 
“I’m shocked you’re asking me that. I’ve been wondering if you were ever going to break up with me yourself, y’know?” You let out a sad little chuckle before you feel that insecurity he instilled in you burn against your eyes. “I’m just making it easy for you, so that you can go and spend your time with someone that you’d rather be around.”
He pauses, still dumbfounded by what you’re saying. 
“Why are you saying that?” He bellows out in a deeper tone, making you feel as though he’s angry with you now. “I’d rather be around you.” 
“Oh? Is that right?” You roll your eyes now, annoyed. “Is that why you push me away when I try to kiss you? Or what about– what about when you left the party last week after I sat on your lap?” 
Ah. He knew it. He knew he should have admitted it. Despite his consistent apologies for his body acting on instinct to run away from you, he should have really tried to see from your point of view rather than his own. Even if he only ran to hide the fact that he is horribly aroused by you at all times, in every given moment. 
You can hear a pained groan fall from his lips, and a door opening on his end. 
“I’m coming over.” 
He doesn’t let you protest, and instead hangs up the phone. You sit there in silence at his rejection of your break up. As if it were his choice? As if he had any say in it? You want to break up, that’s final. 
Still, that doesn’t explain why you don’t call him back to tell him not to come. It also doesn’t explain why your heart is thumping against your chest in anticipation.
Or, maybe there is something to explain why you’re feeling butterflies over his blatant refusal. Perhaps, this is the first time you’ve felt wanted by him? 
That also makes it worse. Why should your boyfriend make you feel this way only when you’re breaking up with him? Why can you only see that he cares when he’s faced with the idea of losing you? By the way he’s acting, you can argue that he wouldn’t be losing anything precious to him if you were to walk out of his life right this moment. 
Still, you sit here in wait. More curious now to see if maybe you'll figure out why he refuses to look at or touch you in a way that would show you he wants you.
~
The first thing Chan does when he steps through the door of your apartment is slip his shoes off. The second thing he does is stand there awkwardly, as if every thought left his head upon seeing your face.
You look like you’ve been crying. 
“This is my fault.” He says with a slight crack in his voice. “Because I keep hiding from you….right?”
You nod silently, remaining on your couch that faces his timid and stiffened figure. 
He stares at you, examining the consequences of his own actions. 
“You want to break up because I haven’t tried to, like, do things with you.” He winces as he says it, struggling to not feel awkward talking about having sex. He’s embarrassed, but would be even more embarrassed if he lost a girlfriend over this. 
“That’s not the only reason.” You shake your head, looking away from him and to your hands as you pick at your nail beds. “I’d be okay with no sex if you’d simply tell me why. The fact that you haven’t told me anything–” Your voice cracks a little bit, feeling stupid for being so emotional over such a short lived relationship. “It kind of destroyed my confidence.”
He watches the way you refuse eye contact, which is something that stabs him directly in the stomach. He can feel it drop to the floor, adrenaline making its way into that empty space you’re creating for him. 
“Before we break up, I just want to know why it took this for you to act like you genuinely might have feelings for me.” 
He stumbles over his thoughts the same way he stumbles over his feet trying to approach you. 
By now, he doesn’t think he can ever feel more embarrassed than he does at this moment. He crouches down in front of you, sad that you didn’t laugh at the way he nearly knocked himself out on your living room floor. Then he looks at you, chasing your line of sight as if to reassure you through nothing but the air in the room.
“I was afraid you’d laugh at me.” He starts, and after seeing that your expression doesn’t change even a little bit, he continues. “You seemed so into me that I–” He takes a deep breath, willing himself to be as honest as he can be. “I just didn’t know how to act.” 
You look at him with irritation at those words. 
“Of course I was fucking into you. Why else would I have agreed to be your girlfriend?” You roll your eyes, pushing yourself back into the couch cushions and away from his crouched body. “Think about how I feel. The fact that you just watch me throw myself at you time and time again? The fact that you rejected me every single time? How is that not giving you the answers you need as to why I’m breaking up with you?”
He takes note of that heightened voice of yours, defensive and likely more hurt than you’re letting on. 
“Listen–” He breathes in, trying to internally hype himself up to bite the bullet. 
You were listening, but he’s keeping whatever it is he’s thinking about in his head for just a second too long. 
“No, I think we’re done h-” 
“I’m a virgin.” He interrupts you, lowering his gaze to the floor and refusing eye contact with you. 
Your eyes shoot to him though. The last thing you would have expected was for him to be a–
“You’re–” You try to repeat his words for confirmation, but he interrupts you again. 
“I can promise you it’s not because I don’t want to do these things with you.” He says, still staring at the floor. “It’s because I was afraid that you’d lose interest over it.” 
Your mouth falls open as you look at him, every feeling of frustration in your body disappearing almost immediately. 
“It’s because I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to, like, be any good at it.” He continues to admit. “I was trying to work up the courage to tell you, or to just like, do it.” He rambles, now scooting back and standing up to his feet. “And if you still want to break up, I understand. I just thought I at least owed you an explanation.” 
You watch as he nods to himself in an unsure way, turns on his heel, and heads back to the door to slip his shoes back on. 
You sit in stunned silence as your brain erases every single insecurity you gained over this month and a half relationship before jumping to your feet. If anyone could have been more insecure about this than you were, it was him. And now that you can see that, the guilt hits you twice as hard as the presumed break up would have. 
“You’re a virgin?” You ask, though that wasn’t at all the words you intended to say. “I mean, you kept pushing me away because you didn’t want to disappoint me?”
He nods timidly, halting his body and still refusing to look at you. 
He has one shoe on, and his other foot half in the other when you make your way over to him, closing the distance quickly and confidently.
“Don’t leave.” You say first, before physically moving his body for him to remove that foot from his half-on shoe. “Chan, I’m your girlfriend. We can wait for as long as you need, I just...”
You pause, now feeling annoyed with yourself for making it about you. Then again, it’s not like you could read his mind. Though, thinking back to all of those instances where he pulled away from you before, perhaps you could have read context clues a little better. 
“I didn’t know–” You trail off, now determined to save the relationship that both of you accidentally started to sink. “Did I make you feel like you couldn’t tell me?”
He feels…relieved by your words. Saying you could wait, asking what it is that made him so afraid to admit it. 
Finally, he presses one foot against his other, pulling his foot out of his shoe and stepping back, looking at you with eyes fonder than you’ve ever seen them.
“It’s not that I felt I couldn’t tell you. I was just embarrassed.”
You very nearly coo out at him, but you keep your distance with both your words and your body now. 
“It’s not that I’m not ready to lose it. Especially with you.” He admits, glancing at you for a reaction before sighing. “I think I’ve been ready for a long time, again, I was just embarrassed and also knew that I should probably tell you at some point…”
“You want to give your virginity to me?”
You watch as he blows his hair up through puckered lips, rolling his eyes before smiling at you.
“It’s not that I view virginity as sacred or anything either. There’s just a lot of weight that people tend to put on it, and I wasn’t sure how you’d react.” He tries to explain as his body relaxes by the minute. “I wanted you to be my first time, yeah. When I asked you to be my girlfriend, I knew I wanted you to be the one to show me what all the hype is about.”
You’d laugh if it weren’t for the fact that this is still kind of a touchy subject. You’re not entirely sure how you feel about being someone’s first time, but you know you have feelings for him and to deny him of sex after you blatantly wanted it so bad from him…Okay, maybe you’re just in your head. Of course you’d be happy to be his first time. 
Ecstatic even. 
“So….” You sway on your feet, looking up at the ceiling before landing your eyes on him playfully. “It’s not because you think I’m disgusting or like, not living up to the standards you want for a girlfriend?”
“Jesus, no.” He says. 
You watch him scratch the back of his head, still probably embarrassed by how low this relationship had fallen due to the awful communication skills. 
“And you’re also kind of admitting that you have thought about it?” You continue, prying out the words you’ve wanted to hear so badly since you met him. 
He pulls back only a little bit, his cheeks warming at the words and the way his brain automatically thrusts him into the thoughts of all of those nights where he absolutely fucking thought about it. 
“Y-yeah. Yes. I have thought about it.” He nods in a self-reassuring way as his eyes land on everything in the room but you. 
You’re quick to give him your own reassurance though, trying to learn his boundary now that the secret is out and the relationship appears to have a second chance at succeeding. 
He can feel you close in on him, wrapping your arms around his middle and nuzzling your face against his neck. There, he holds you back, breathing in deep and feeling the scent of you wash through his body. 
Quite literally actually. As he would normally avoid, his lower half reacts far too quickly to even the simplest of touches from you. 
He pulls back on instinct, but you don’t release your grip this time. 
“You seem as ready as ever, I’ll admit.” You laugh upon feeling him stiffen against you, but you really do try not to shame him for it. “Still, we can wait until you feel ready enough to give it a shot, okay?”
He nods, entirely reassured by the way you don’t press up against it or comment any further about the happenings in his pants right now. Then he sighs out. 
“I can imagine I must look like an idiot right now, getting hard over a fucking hug.” He finally says as he pulls from the hug and makes his way back to your living room. “But we’re okay, right? You’re not breaking up with me?”
You follow after him, keeping your sexual distance, but absolutely indulging in the loving, sweet, and careful cuddling you’ve wanted to do with him for so long now. 
He appears comfortable when you tuck yourself under his arm and rest your head on his chest before answering him.
“I’m not breaking up with you,” You say, feeling his chest heave with each breath and intentionally ignoring the blatant tent in his pants slowly fall back into its flaccid position as he calms down. “It’s kinda cute, you know? That you were so worried about it.” 
His cheeks are still on fire, willing his body to calm itself through this sweet session of cuddling. He doesn’t want to ruin the moment with you, and still, it is embarrassing in the way he knows you’re ignoring it for his sake too.
But goddamn, how heavenly it would be for you to like, touch it right now…..or something. 
“Never thought of it as cute, if I’m being honest.” He tries to joke. “If anything, maybe it's a little pathetic on my part.”
You shake your head against him, feeling more confident of your place in his life. 
“Pathetic? Don’t be mean to yourself. Besides, it’s kind of hot knowing that you got so turned on over a simple hug.” You laugh, hoping you’re not crossing a boundary. “No wonder you ran so fast when I sat on your lap, I definitely would have felt that on me.”
“Alright, alright–” He tries to hush you of your playful remarks, but ultimately, if you really think it’s an attractive aspect of whatever sexual dynamic the two of you will come to have, he’s going to make damn sure you see just how fucking turned on you make him. 
~
Things are good. Great even, now that you can pin point each moment your boyfriend gets a little too overwhelmed with you. He does still push you away, probably out of instinct but he doesn’t shy away nearly as much from intimate moments with you. Especially if the two of you are alone together. 
You’re a bit more careful in public or with friends though, because the last thing you want to do is make him feel insecure about it. Still, there are playful moments where you indulge in the act of touching him or kissing him just to get him excited, just to watch him stutter his way through ordering something. 
The point is, you almost ended a relationship with someone who, arguably, makes you feel more wanted than you ever knew you could. It’s nice, and it feels good. 
Even now, this is only your second full on make-out session with him, you feel absolutely adored. It’s cute in the way he’s trying to train himself to not get hard at even the simplest of touches, it’s even cuter when his efforts fail miserably and he’s arching his body away from you as if he could even hide what he’s packing. 
You don’t push for more, despite wanting it badly. He also doesn’t push…despite also wanting it just as much as you do, if not more. He still seems to need a push of confidence to actually go any further than a nice, non-body touching makeout session. 
This is fine though, and you indulge far more than you ever knew you would when it comes to this kind of thing. As if simply licking into his mouth is foreplay enough to counter a fucking blowjob for him. 
Never in your life did you think you’d be this into the fact that your boyfriend is a virgin. And it’s not even that he’s never had sex, it’s that he seems to want it so bad, and there’s just something about a man who is desperate that gets you going these days. 
Still, kissing him is something that fulfills you, especially with the way he’s avoiding his lower half and keeping it away from you. 
He kisses you back in a telling way though, more telling than that tent in his sweatpants that you can visualize even while your eyes are closed. He radiates the arousal through the way he moves his lips against yours, and the way he lets out little suffering sounds when you kiss him harder and harder. 
His hands stay against your face, neck, and sometimes your waist, but god. His kissing is genuinely just so good with the way it tells on him every few seconds. 
And when he pulls back, he’s out of breath, flushed, and looking as if he would want nothing more than for you to hint, to lay down some sort of implication that he can cling to for relief from the heaviness that’s been in his pants since the fucking relationship started.
You wonder if tonight is the night, because he doesn’t appear to want to stop making out like he did last time. If anything, as he looks at you with those heaving breaths, you can tell he’s thinking harder than he ever has about it. 
“Chan,” You whisper out to him, just inches from his face. “Do you think of me?”
When he keeps his eyes on you, seemingly stunned by your question, you continue. 
“Do you think of me after you leave? When you’re all by yourself in your room–” You turn your head so that your eyes can trail to the space he is attempting to keep from you. “When you’re touching yourself?” 
He feels the words run straight through him, causing an utterly pathetic twitch in his pants. The way your voice comes out soft and sensual as you ask him, as you look at him. He doesn’t even remember words at this moment, not even a simple “yes”. 
He tries to answer by losing a little bit of his self control, turning your head back to him with his palm just so he can chase against your lips out of the sheer arousal, but you pull away. 
“Do you?” You continue, encouraging him to answer you. 
“So much,” He wills himself to whisper confidently, ignoring the fact that his body just forced him to rut up and against nothing, all for you to see. “Every time I leave,” He puts emphasis on his words. “Sometimes I can’t even make it home first.” 
You smile at the image of him rubbing against himself in his car, so desperate to relieve himself of what you do to him each time he comes to see you. Not even making it out of the seatbelt before releasing all over himself, all in his pants. Shaking, panting, all alone and without you. 
“Cute,” You chuckle, finally turning your head slightly and landing a pop kiss on him. “I think of you when I do it too, every time you leave.” 
He looks at you, willing his hips to stay put as he thinks about the image of you doing that in this very room, to images and thoughts of him. 
“You do?” He asks for reassurance easily.
“Mhm,” You look away from him as you sit straight up and then scoot down the bed. There, you lay yourself down against your pillows and look at him. “Come here.” 
He’s reluctant to take your hand. But even he can admit that this side by side makeout session is starting to hurt his neck, and you’re clearly asking him to get on top of you right now. 
“You don’t have to but, Chan–” You say, looking down, “I don’t want you to leave this time.” 
Well, shit, all you had to do was say that. Honestly, the way you look at him with pure acceptance is enough to push him past the wall in his head that keeps him from finally trying to take the next step. You accept him as he is now, surely you’d accept him if he…. doesn’t last, right? What about if he isn’t good at it? 
Still, he finds himself planting one hand on the other side of your head to balance himself on top of you. Still just hovering, not yet wanting or willing to, you know, put it against you. 
You smile. 
“It’s okay, I can tell you’re nervous. We don’t have to do anything else, I’m happy with just this.”
And then you both fall back into another, much more comfortable and natural feeling, makeout session. 
As much as you’d love for him to try and take control, his reluctance allows you to contain yourself. It allows you to respect him and his decision of whether or not he wants to do anything more than this. Still, this satisfies you. And if he really does stay, maybe he wouldn’t be entirely against watching you take care of your own arousal for him. Maybe he’d feel better watching even, taking notes on what you like, learning where to touch you. 
And you know, that really would have been okay but you can’t help but feel like he’s definitely wanting more. With the way his lips grow hungrier rather than more tired, with the way he’s starting to moan shamelessly into your mouth, with the way his hands are trying to travel to more intimate places on your body before stopping himself. 
You might be pushing it with the assumption, but it doesn’t hurt to try and help him, right?
When you feel his hands moving to your waist, up, up, and up until they’re just barely brushing against the underside of your breast, he pulls back again and pulls your shirt down to cover the exposed skin, all while kissing you harder.
You place your hand over his, wasting not even a second as you guide him back under your shirt, right up to where you know he wants to touch. 
And holy fuck does he. He doesn’t even pull back when you lay it against the warm and exposed flesh from under your shirt. His hand immediately starts groping. His lips immediately stutter against you in a relieved sigh from him, and all you can do is kiss him now with the same energy he seems to have in that one single hand. 
“You’re allowed to touch me, but if you need help doing it, just tell me–” You pull back to whisper, trying to take it another step further in the act of kissing against his jaw and down his neck. “I want to touch you too, but I’ll keep my hands to myself unless you tell me otherwise.”
It’s like he really forgets how to talk or give proper consent when his entire body is acting like a fucking greenlight for you right now. He feels so pathetic, on the verge of orgasm with nothing more than the soft fabric of his sweatpants to relieve him, and yet your breast in his hand, nipple hardening under his palm before he musters the courage to put it between his fingers, it’s a lot to take in, okay?
Still, he tries to say something, and he’s even more embarrassed by the way his voice sounds like it isn’t even his own. He sounds broken when the sound reaches his ears. 
“Don’t–” He starts, cutting himself off at the feeling of your lips kissing against the pulse point of his neck. 
“Hm?” You ask, pulling back and away, hoping you didn’t press too much. 
“Don’t stop.” He mutters out again, a little less embarrassed now that he feels you sigh against that same pulse point with the way his fingers fondle your nipple mindlessly. “Don’t keep your hands to yourself.”
Your brain falls into a stunned silence at his words, bringing a type of nervousness to bubble up in your own body. Is this really it? Is this when it’s going to happen? On a saturday night, against your pillows, muffled cartoons playing in the background…..past ten in the evening? 
You can’t help it as you kiss against his neck. You really can’t, with the way he opens himself up to be vulnerable with you while actively being on top of you, while playing with your breasts, while containing himself.
He seems to need you to do the pushing, but you really cannot shake the nervousness of being his first. You’re almost certain he is nervous about so many things, but still he appears to be eager to try. He’s eager to be with you, and, ultimately, to know what it feels like to be with another person that matters to him in that way. 
“Is there–” You stop, breath caught in your throat, only to fall out against his throat when he finally seems to have the confidence to make his first move. One that would seem so small to anyone else, but he– he raises a hand and holds the back of your neck, trying to press your lips and guide them to the area of his neck that he wants you to kiss. 
And you do, with blatant encouragement to him for doing that, all while trying to finish your previous thought. 
“Is there anything you want me to do for you?” You ask, kissing and now, licking against the spot on his neck that makes him shiver. 
He sighs in a shudder, craning his neck to expose more skin for you before his hand stills against your nipple and he pulls his hand from your shirt. 
“All of it?” He starts, a bit unsure of himself. “Everything?” He adds, pulling himself back from your lips and watching you fall back to your pillows. He leans his body up, relieving his legs from his weight and sitting on his heels in front of you, only slightly between your legs now. 
You can see that he has a bit more confidence with the way he’s looking at you. 
“I want to try all of it.” He continues, placing two hands on your knees, pushing your legs together and using his palms to make them sway left and right. It’s as if he’s thinking hard. “I mean, if you want to.”
You smile. 
You want nothing more than to do this with him, for him, and for yourself. 
“Yeah?” You ask for confirmation, now lifting yourself and re-positioning yourself onto your knees to mimic his own stance. 
He nods in a blatant and shy way, knowing that you can physically see how badly he wants this, and how badly he wants you to be the one to do this with him. He’s achingly hard, and he isn’t sure if he’s ever managed to get this fucking hard in his entire life.
It really is painfully arousing, with the way his pants stretch against the head when he’s sitting like this. The way the fabric offers little to no sensation but while looking at you, he feels all fucked up and warm. He tries to forget that there’s precum all over him, seeping through the pants that are presented before you, and god, the way you look right at it. 
He doesn’t shy away despite being as shy as he could possibly be right now. In fact, when your eyes trail back up to him, licking your lips before smiling, he a fucking goner. He knew he wanted you bad, but never did he know he needed you this badly. 
He’s so fucking lucky. 
“It looks… big.” You comment, leaning forward only slightly and sizing your boyfriend up. “But for your sake, I’ll try to control myself from moving too fast. I’ll go slow, okay?”
He doesn’t even nod, he’s too entranced with you in front of him, fully clothed, lifting his own shirt off of him as if he is incapable of doing it himself. Then again, he kind of is incapable at this moment. He swears his IQ must’ve dropped to a single digit by this point. 
And when that shirt comes up and over his head, you note that he doesn’t even blink. That small moment where his face was obscured as you pulled it off of him? His eyes stayed on you both before and after, only now– his hair is a total fucking mess and all you can do is feel endeared by it. 
“God, you’re so fucking attractive,” You groan in sexual frustration with an eyeroll. “I can’t believe someone hasn’t jumped your bones yet.”
Now he breaks eye contact at the praise, glancing away from you and trying his hardest not to smile like an idiot at those words. 
“To be fair, I’ve fucked up my fair share of relationships being embarrassed.” He laughs. “Kinda glad I did though.”
You land your eyes back on him, staring blankly at his naked chest and trying your damnedest not to look at him like he’s some piece of meat. But goddamn, the body of this man. 
“Come here, switch places with me.” You smile, reaching forward and trying not to think too hard about the way his arms flex when you grip them to move him. “Here, lay back.” 
And within seconds, you’re between his legs and looking down at his half-lidded, arousal driven eyes. 
“Fuck, really?” You groan again, glancing away. “It’s really taking everything in me, Chan, it really is.”
His heart is doing flips as he stares up at you. He feels doted on, adored, attractive. So he encourages more of those annoyed praises from you. 
“Taking everything in you to…?” 
You chuckle, because the audacity of this drunk and in love fool. 
“Do you have any idea how badly I’ve wanted to be in this exact position?” You smile, reaching down to run your fingers down his chest and straight to that happy trail that he so readily hid from you. “It’s taking everything in me to slow down–”
“Then don’t.” He says proudly, albeit still a bit shy at your words. 
You can see how red his ears are, only partially hidden by that head of messy ass hair. His stupid pretty eyes and gentle smile are directed straight at you without any type of reluctance. 
“There’s my confident boyfriend.” You chuckle, toying with the hair beneath his belly button and trying to not comment on the way his body jumps a bit at the feeling. “Was wondering where he went after he asked me to be his girlfriend.”
And he remains silent after that, watching the way you take the reins and lean down to kiss against that same spot of his neck. Warm breath fanning over the skin before attaching yourself there. 
Surely you can feel the way his hips react, humping up at each flutter of your lips. If you couldn’t, he knows for a fact that you’ll be able to now. With the way you trail down, across his own sensitive nipples, and then down, down, down. 
He glances down at you at the same time when you glance up at him and right then and there he thinks he melts. He’s never seen a woman look at him from this angle, and it’s only a little bit detrimental to his heavy and pathetic cock. The twitching never stops, he feels so fucking sticky in his pants and it really just doesn’t stop. Continuous leaking, and he really had no idea that there could even be this much pre-cum. 
Then, he’s pulled out of his thoughts with….a tickle?
“Oh?” You smile, leaning down to repeat that lick up his happy trail before landing a kiss straight on his belly button. 
His body jumps again, and he lets out a moaned chucked unintentionally. 
“Oh.” You smile wider, gripping both of his hips with your hands and holding him down in a playful way. Repeating the act once again. 
Your suspicions are confirmed with a third jump of his body, and another chuckled, frustrated moan. 
“So, he’s ticklish too?” You say with another kiss against his belly button before fluttering your fingers at the side of his hips. 
His entire body goes rigid before melting against the bed in an attempt to not react to the way you take advantage of a hidden weakness he had. God, he should have known that…like, sex stuff could be ticklish. 
“No– I’m not.” He lies, jolting again when you continue to test the resilience he thinks he has against your lips and fingers. “Hey–!”
And, well, you would’ve stopped if it weren’t for the fact that his hips raise with each tickled sensation, and you can genuinely feel how damp and heavy he is in his pants. It’s entirely arousing in the way its weight is obvious through his attempts to wiggle from your ticklish touches. 
“Alright,” You finally relent, landing one final kiss to his belly before licking down that same line of hair he offers his body. “Chan, I want to–”
His hips immediately raise to your words, the wetness from your tongue feels like ice against his skin when the air hits it and at this point, he thinks he knows what you’re suggesting. 
“Please–” He nearly cries out in a stutter. “Touch it.”
You smile as you nuzzle your nose against his abdomen before giving him a short nod that you know he doesn’t see. Considering, well, he just threw his arm over his face and keeps his hips tensed, and his ass only slightly lifted off of the bed. 
Desperate. Willing. 
You prepare yourself for seeing it for the first time by not seeing it at all just yet. Instead, you kiss down until your lips are met with warm, damp fabric. Immediately you can feel his length twitch under your lips when you reach it, and all you can manage to do is flatten your tongue out and against it to feel it pulse again. 
And again, until that same arm thrown over his face reaches down in a desperate attempt to take the pants off for you. He’s the one losing his self control now, no embarrassment or nervousness in sight from him, and it’s so fucking attractive to see him do it.
His shaking fingers fumbling with the waistband, shoving the pants down just an inch or so more to reveal more of that trimmed hair.
You don’t comment on the way he’s acting out of fear that it’ll make him feel shamed or even mocked, despite you truly believing it might just be the hottest thing you’ve ever seen a man do in front of you. 
Instead, you help him. Sinking your own fingers beneath his pants and tugging them down all in one go before allowing your eyes to land on it. 
“Jesus fucking christ.” He moans out, the air alone offering an overwhelming amount of sensation due to the temperature change he now feels between his legs. 
You finally look at it, so dark in color. As if all of the blood in his body resides only here. You gently move your hand just over it, feeling the heat radiate from him, seeing the precum continuously dribble from the head, and then, finally– 
“You’re so….” You trail off, in awe of the way his body just….keeps reacting. So much pre-cum. “Hard.” 
He releases a broken little sound at the feeling of your fingers finally touch him, and it feels insanely different from when he touches it himself. As if he’s not in control of his pleasure, and it’s all just you. You are the one who feels good against him. 
You’re shocked briefly when his hand makes it’s way back down to yours, grabbing it and essentially trying to get you to stimulate him more. He puts so much pressure against your hand, sandwiching it between his own palm and stiffened cock. 
You’re tuly in awe. This man has essentially edged himself to a world record, surely. 
“Slow down,” You try to soothe him, moving your hand against him and watching him retract his hand. “Relax, It must feel good, right?”
That little sob he lets out shows you his frustration. So needy, so ready. And even with you moving your fingers to circle his pulsing length, his hips continuously fuck up, not allowing him to have even a moment without a forceful amount of stimulation. 
“So good,” He moans, entire brain focused on what your hand is doing and unable to open his eyes. “I want it so bad.”
You don’t think he hears you chuckle and you’re thankful he doesn’t. You can imagine he would genuinely be embarrassed to know you’re witnessing his pure blissed-out and aroused-state of mind right now. 
And it’s not shocking that he’s entirely focused on himself at this moment, because he’s the one experiencing this for the first time. Even if you find it hard to believe that another woman has never touched his dick, you’re entirely flattered that it very well may be the case and that he wanted you to be the one to make him feel this good. 
“I’ll give it to you, just relax. I’m not going to stop.” You reassure his needy movements, and the way his body squirms at the slightest of touches. “What feels good?”
God, he’s so frustrated. 
“All of it.” He groans shortly, trying to take in a deep breath and just relax like you asked him too. 
You nod to his closed eyes and slacked mouth, fighting against his hips to be the one to pleasure him rather than himself and only when you blow a gentle breath against the head of his cock do his hips still and he shoots his hands up to your pillows, gripping them as if he’s preparing for something. 
You watch intently at the way he’s actively fighting to move now, waiting impatiently for you to do something now. Licking his lips, chewing on his bottom lip– god, he’s so pretty up there. 
Then, you grant him a new sensation. Only because by this point you’re the one who is about to lose control. 
You stick out your tongue and lick all the way from his balls to the head of his cock, making sure to keep pressure against it so that you can taste all of the arousal he’s spilled up until now. And while you were going to pull back to examine his reaction, this is the part where you release your self control.
The taste alone was enough to have you moaning, vibrating your voice against the vein of his length and then circling your lips around the head. 
Instantly, you suck at the feeling of pre-cum still pouring out of him. This time, there seems to be more. Coating your tongue with an almost sweetened salty taste. 
You feel briefly the way his hips chase the new warmth, clearly wanting to tuck itself into your mouth and quite possibly, down your throat, but you pull back and blow once again against the head. 
His entire body shivers as you glance up at him. 
You can barely comprehend just how into you he looks right now before rolling your own eyes in arousal at the image before immediately giving him everything your mouth has to offer.
Who cares if he comes too fast? Fucking look at him. You’d be stupid not to suck the absolute life out of him! That’s your boyfriend up there, chewing on his bottom lip, eyes sparkling through hooded lids, chest heaving–
And god, you almost wish he wasn’t as big as he is because it’s difficult to keep your eyes open when you take it in. You have to focus on sliding it through your lips, against your tongue, and right up to the back of your throat where the head of his cock bumps.
He can feel the way your fingers grip his legs through it, and by this point he has gone entirely non-verbal at the feeling. 
The only sound he can make comes from deep within his chest, and he can only release those sounds with heaved out and rigid breaths. His heart is pumping faster and faster the deeper you managed to take him, and–
“Ah! W-wait!” He panics, sitting straight up and becoming fucking floored at the way you stay on him. Moving your hands to his stomach and trying to shove him back. “Fuck,” He seethes as he takes in a sharp inhale, legs shaking as he flops back against the pillows. “Fuck, i’m sorry.” He continues to murmur, feeling himself hit the wall of orgasm and practically pulverize it. 
And you, oh, you. You taste it. You feel the twitching and the way his muscles stiffen under your fingers. You can hear him muttering apologies as it spills into your mouth, down your throat, and even out of the corners of your lips. 
You try to take all of it, up until you can’t fucking breathe, and only then do you pull up and replace your mouth with your hand, watching in awe at the way he just……
It doesn’t fucking stop. 
He went from rigid to stammering his words, to now blatantly and full-on moaning through both the pleasure and frustration of losing the warmth of your mouth. 
“God, Chan….” You whisper in a raspy voice, slowing your hands and intentionally pumping it out of him by now. 
“I’m sorry–” He stammers, body still shaking as you pull the rest of it out of him. “I tried to,” He winces with another unintentional moan. “I didn’t think it would feel that good.”
You smile both proudly and fondly, watching him stumble through his words and whatever excuse he tries to come up with. 
“I don’t think you know how hot you look right now.” You finally say, in a more stern voice. “You couldn’t have stopped me if you wanted to.” 
Only now, when he’s absolutely drenched himself in his release does he open his eyes in a drowsy way. He looks at you and that little smile on your lips and decides that, yeah, he can believe you. He trusts you, and he’s entirely obsessed with you. 
“But we still haven’t–”
You cut him off quickly.
“We have all night. All day tomorrow. All week, month, year. I don’t care.” You dead-pan, reaching for his, somehow, still hard length. “Chan.” You add, gripping it and testing the actual hardness of it. “You’re still hard, which is fucking amazing by the way, and you have no idea how wet I am right now.”
Oh, my god. He forgot. 
“You– you’re turned on?” He asks, looking away from you. 
“So fucking turned on.” You confirm for him, now releasing his length to give him a bit of a rest, considering he must not realize he’s still shaking. “Look, feel.” 
You say it as you crawl up and on top of him, seating yourself right up against his abdomen and grabbing his hand. 
He just stares, watching you guide his hand straight to the seat of your shorts. 
“Oh.” He sighs out. 
“Even through my shorts. See? Feel it.” You continue to move his hand against you, trying not to rut your own hips up much like he was doing before. 
Brain malfunction. He doesn’t even have a fucking IQ at this point as his cock immediately reacts in all of it’s sensitive, pathetic glory. 
“Do you want me to, um,” He swallows around a breath he didn’t know he needed. “touch you? Can I try?”
You sigh, relieved that he’s willing and immediately push yourself off of him and take care of all of the busy-work as quickly as possible. ie: taking off your clothes.
Unfortunately, you somehow briefly forgot that the man is still a fucking virgin. You can very nearly see his mouth fall open at your nude body being revealed to him. Even more so, you can see the dribble of saliva that he doesn’t quite catch fast enough, and his cock reacts. 
“You’re so cute, god.” You praise with the same compliment you’ve been giving him all night. 
And when you seat yourself next to him, hugging one of his arms and tucking it between your legs before closing your thighs around it, you smile at him and the way he literally cannot stop staring with his mouth agape. 
“Babe, you’re drooling.” You chuckle, shifting your hips a bit to rub yourself against his knuckles, where you’re still hugging his arm. 
Only then does he slurp up his embarrassment and try to remain calm. His fogged brain comes back to him quickly upon your comments as he wills himself to sit up beside you. 
He gets to….touch you. 
And boy does he. 
Eagerly, messily, and quite frankly, kind of embarrassingly. 
You make it easier for him though, laughing as you flop back and spread your legs for him. He’s quick to simply…explore. He’s not aiming for any singular area of your pussy because to be quite honest, he’s still struggling to stop staring at the entirety of you. 
You watch his eyes, the way they stare at your tits, then your thighs, your pussy being petted by his fingertips, and then– eye contact. 
He seems so sure of himself despite still managing to barely touch the clit. It doesn’t bother you one bit, because his eager fingers still find ways to touch you beautifully. There’s so much intent behind the messy movements. 
Slipping and sliding two fingers between your lips, up your folds, and then stopping just short of your clit before sliding back down and feeling where his cock would go if he manages to make it this far. 
I mean, surely he will, right? He’s losing his virginity as he does this right now, even. Foreplay still counts, right? 
And then, after several minutes of him exploring, learning, and practically teasing you half to death, you reach down to guide him. 
“Right here,” You soothe out in a soft voice, pressing his fingers against your clit and seeing him take note of it. “And here.” You trail his fingers down until they reach your clenched hole, and you very slightly press against his fingers so that the tips just barely enter you. 
He tilts his head at you, concentrating on where you lead him before releasing his hand and essentially leaving him to his own devices now. 
And you know, he did tell you he was a quick learner, because almost immediately he’s experimenting with putting a finger into you, and using his other hand to find a rhythm to rub against your clit. 
The whole time, he checks for your reaction, noting when your breathing hitches and when your body tenses. He continues, trying to only do things that make your body react and soon, you’re already turning to mush beneath him.
His fingers circle and tap your clit at a quick pace, with the other twisted inside of you. When he slides his finger out, and then back in, he rubs your clit harder, and god, yeah. Okay. You see his effort, and it’s such a good fucking effort too.
“Feels good,” You finally moan out for him, allowing yourself to give in to the pure arousal of the entire situation taking place. Thinking hard about what it would feel like to have such a desperate cock inside of you. “Use two fingers?” 
He listens instantly, moaning along with you when he slides the other in with the next thrust. His fingers against your clit trail down shortly after, curiosity getting the best of him when he spreads your lips open to see you stretch around his fingers. 
“It’s so warm–” He comments more to himself than to you, watching the way you pulse around him, watching the way your slick seeps out of you. It’s so hot for him to see it up close like this, and his pace slows at the image before him. “Can you take more than two?”
You lift your head in amazement at how he could ask such a thing. 
“Chan.” You smile at the way he jumps in surprise at your sudden, louder voice. Fingers nearly slipping out of you. “I can take way more than just two fingers.” You glance down between his legs. “Way, way more.”
He glances down to what you’re looking at before letting out an embarrassed sob.
“You’re really going to let me?” He nearly whines in excitement. 
You nod, reaching for him and pulling him to you by his shoulders. You land a kiss against his lips, trying not to shake at the way his fingers angle different inside of you as he moves to chase your lips.
“Mhm,” You soothe against his lips, intentionally scooting your hips down to your best ability to sink his fingers into you more. “Move your fingers– it feels good like this.”
He listens, feeling you throw your arms around his neck and cling to him through it, all while moaning and groaning right up against his lips. You’re not even kissing him, you’re just….acting like this and it’s fucking great.
He thought he would be the only one to be desperate in this situation, yet here you are, clinging to him as he works his fingers in you. 
“When?” He finally asks upon noting the way you start to move your hips against his fingers. 
You peek your eyes open and pull back to look at him. 
“Now? Do you want to do it now?” 
He nods, slipping his fingers out of you and inspecting how wet they’ve become. 
“Can I?” 
You finally fall back, leaning against your elbows and spreading your legs wide in front of him. Lending him a nod, you watch the way he just freezes after the fact. 
All you can do is laugh at this moment with the way he loses any ability to remember how sex works. 
Then again, you wonder if he ever even watched porn, considering how he’s acting and couldn’t manage to find the clit. 
“Do you want me to be on top?” You question, blinking up at him and his blank expression.
He shakes his head at you, still frozen in his spot before his eyes slowly make their way down to the glistening sheen against your pussy. 
“Don’t we like, need a condom or something? I can’t promise I’ll be able to pull out.” He asks, finally glancing away. “I don’t know if I can last as long as you want me to….”
And with that, all you do is lunge forward, grab your boyfriend by the cock, and pull him to you. 
He laughs, you laugh, and then it’s silent when he leans over you, feeling his length lay against your core, already feeling spent but so, so ready to give himself to you. 
“I’m on birth control. You don’t need to pull out.” You smile evilly, wiggling your hips and watching the way he closes his eyes tightly as if to regain his composure of those words. 
“I’m seriously in love with you.” He mutters, pushing his hips forward and letting his length slide through the mess he made of you. 
You smile, feeling that by this point, your face may actually be stuck like this permanently, and lift your head to kiss against his lips once more. 
“You’re ready?” You ask quietly, against his lips. “I can help you adjust to where it needs to be. After that, I want you to do what feels best for you, okay?”
He nods timidly, taking in a deep and nervous breath before feeling your hand guide his length to the opening. 
“Go on, slide in it.” You encourage him. 
And he does. 
Slowly at first, gently, until he feels your wet hot walls envelop the head of his cock in full, clenching, pulling him in. 
His arms shake from either side of your head as he balances himself there, and it doesn’t take long for him to drop his head against your shoulder in deeper breaths than he was taking before.
The sensation is so much, it’s no wonder people like to have sex. It’s so good, you feel so, so good around him. He can’t help it when he slides in deeper, not stopping until he’s releasing a wet moan against your shoulder and holding onto you as if his life depends on it. 
He thought that once he got it all the way in, it would get easier. But it doesn’t. Even as the two of you are unmoving, with your hands in his hair and soothing him through it, you still clench him. Your pussy still stimulates it without either of you doing a damn thing.
You on the other hand, won’t admit to struggling through that one, long and languid thrust inside of you. It felt as if he was splitting you open despite how wet you already were, and still are. The heaviness, the consistent twitching, all of it stretches you out more than you even knew you’d need and god, it feels so good to have him just hold onto you like, to have him adjust to the feeling. 
He’s no longer a virgin, and that’s not even what matters right now. 
What matters is the way he continuously nuzzles his nose against you, snaking his head to your neck and moaning consistently against your ear when he manages to finally move. 
He pulls out only a little bit before his hips stutter at the sensitivity, then he pushes back in. 
In and out, in and out, until–
“Fuck.” He moans, lifting suddenly from your neck, sitting up, staring directly  at where his cock sits inside of you, and he just… lets go.
Knuckles white against the grip of your waist, he powers through the sensitivity, he fucks through it. Fast, with no real rhythm or ability to realize just how deep he’s pushing himself into you, and then….
He’s done for. 
“That’s it,” You encourage him through half moans at the feeling, your swollen clit begging for a little bit of attention too. “Shit, Chan, that’s it.” You continue, losing yourself in his reaction to you. 
He only moves faster, his hips only stutter more, and thank fuck he already came once because he wouldn’t have made it a solid inch into you before coming undone if he hadn’t. Now though? He’s pleasantly surprised to be lasting even this long. 
Until he’s not, of course. 
And there, between your legs, he presses in as far as he can reach and loses his breath. 
Eyes rolling back, eyebrows furrowing, mouth agape, a deep moan rumbles from his chest as his shiver flows through his body at the first release inside of you.
You immediately shoot your hands to your clit, feeling it pump inside of you much like it did in your mouth. Already so much, you feel entirely full, and entirely ready if he can manage to keep coming for as long as he did before. 
You fingers assault the swollen nub so fast, working yourself up much like you would during a quick session of masturbation, not wanting him to miss out on what it feels like to have a girl come on him– 
It hits you faster than you can realize. 
Even when he buckles and falls back to your chest out of breath, you can’t even tell him that it’s happening. 
Thankfully, he doesn’t move just yet. Well, until he feels your pussy clench him tigher than before. In a rhythmic way, almost. 
Only barely can he lift his head to watch you, and that’s when he notes that you’re holding your breath. 
You pussy is pulsing, and then–
“Are you?” He questions, experimenting with the idea of trying to thrust into you as he asks. 
There’s the breath you’d been holding. 
“Yes!” You call out, both to answer his question and to appreciate that little thrust he gave you.
Even if his cock is slowly becoming flaccid, you’re still full, and he can still feel the orgasm wash over you. 
He’s silent through it, wincing at his hyper-sensitive cock and very nearly cursing it out for not having waited just a minute longer to release– then, you’re hugging him. 
Tightly. So tightly, you’re holding onto him and breathing into his hair. He can barely breathe himself with this hold you have on him. Still, he doesn’t fight it, he simply lets you. 
Letting you cling, letting the last jolting pulses of your core push the rest of him out of you. There, he manages to lift from your weakening grasp and throw himself beside you. 
Out of breath, sweating, a total mess, he looks at you like he truly will never be able to love another person the way he does right now. 
And it falls silent for a long while before you roll over, throwing both an arm and leg over him. 
“Man,” You sigh out. “How does it feel?” You ask this time, opening your eyes to playfully look at him.
“Huh? What?” He asks, quirking a brow. 
“You know, now that you’re not a virgin anymore. How does it feel?” 
He thinks hard for like two seconds before taking in a deep breath and smothering himself against the top of your head. 
“Like I’m in love with you, maybe.”
And you know, given that this relationship is barely even considered one in the eyes of most people. You don’t think you care. 
“Because I made you feel good, or because you want to let me make you feel good for like…” You pause, lifting your head to look him in the eye. “the rest of your life?”
He doesn’t even have to think twice. 
“The second reason.” 
“You’re such a simp, Chan, really.” You joke, skewing your head fondly to look at him. “But I think it’s worth a shot.”
~
Chapter two: THIRST TRAPPERS LIE. [hoshi] ― coming soon!
series m.list
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bluehourbucky · 11 months
Text
not a want but a need
pairing: Baker!Bucky x f!reader
summary: you have a healthy obsession with buckys arms and hands / plan to tease bucky backfires <3
a/n: just really thought about how huge baker buckys arms must be 😩😤
-gonna go to horny jail 😩
warnings: sexual content/ fingering /choking /tiny bit of period sex mentioned/ mirror fun/ edging / orgasm denial /
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
18+ only !!!!!!!!
please be kind I've never written smut before 🫠
/ masterlist / bucky /
_________________________________________
it's not often that you come see bucky at work mostly because the bakery is extremely busy and because you don't want to do something unsanitary.
when you first met bucky the first thing you noticed his huge arms, like you knew they were strong especially because he works with dough.
you've been caught staring at them multiple times which made you blush that was before you and bucky started officially dating. you were embarrassed how much you wanted to touch his bicep. not only that but the dirty thoughts have consumed you any time you stared at his arms or hands for longer than a second.
it really wasn't your fault bucky wore extra small shirts which made his arms look incredible.
oh and when he pulls up his sleeves you're a goner. even now after a year of dating you can not help yourself and thirst over his very very strong and beefy arms.
you love to hug his arm when you're sitting on the couch with his hand nestled between your thighs it's your second favorite place for his hand - the first one is well deep inside you.
bucky didn't understand it at first and was mostly just calling you out on it but now he's a menace and teases you any chance he gets.
he especially enjoys looking at you while he's making pasta from scratch when he's rolling the dough. you don't want to give in every time but you do.
bucky has been impossible for the past few days, you're on your period and he's been the worst tease ever and your hormones are not helping. today's the last day of your period and you're no longer feeling bloated or bleeding much.
so you came to his work to give him a taste of his own medicine - or at least that was the plan.....
"hi, steve! is bucky here?"
"yeah he's in the back want me to get him for you or?"
"nope i'll just go there."
and you do. and damn was it a good sight for sore eyes.
bucky is rolling the dough you don't know what he's making but there's this big lump of dough that he's massaging pushing around and the sweat is dripping down his temple. the way he just pushes the dough around makes you want to moan out loud.
his hair is put in a bun and his apron is full of flour but he's looking more delicious than any other thing in the bakery.
"oh hey cupcake. didn't see you there, when did you arrive?"
he looks at you and wipes the sweat off of his forehead with the sleeve of his uniform.
"hey uh just now." you're trying so hard to be chill but all the heat rushes over you when he looks at you like you're the only thing in the world that matters.
"you alright? did something happen?"
of course he asks that, you don't usually come here so of course he'd think something was wrong.
"oh I'm okay just wanted to see you."
it's not a lie. You did want to see him and make him suffer like he's been making you suffer. the whole idea was to come for a bit in his favorite dress do a twirl few light touches and leave.
but the whole plan went out of the window as soon as you saw him.
the only thing you want right now is his fingers inside you and a hand wrapped around your throat.
bucky checks out your outfit and smirks when he sees you clenching your thighs together.
"lemme' finish this to let it rest and i'll be with you in a minute."
you only have the strength to nod and watch as your boyfriend manages to tease you with a lump of dough.
and when bucky slaps the dough one last time for good measure, you think how you'd like to be on the receiving end.
"okay come with me." he doesn't touch you because there's flour all over him so you just follow like a lost puppy.
"open this please." he points at the door of the locker room and you do it he walks in first and tells you to close the door behind you but not to lock them.
the room is long and narrow on one side there's a long bench and on the other a row lockers and between some of them a mirror and a sink on the same side where the bench is.
bucky takes off his apron, then washes his hands, and you just stand there at a loss of words. your plan really backfired huh.
"tell me what you doin' here doll."
he comes and stands in front of you lifting your chin for you to look at him.
"not that I'm not happy to see you but this dress is a bit too much for a bakery visit? is it not?"
oh fuck.
you're in trouble.
he picks up the hem of the dress not enough to show your ass but still high enough.
"uh its nice outside and I just wanted to take a walk and this is a nice summer dress."
bucky laughs at your attempt to make this not what it is.
"sure is a nice dress."
he finally kisses you, the kiss is gentle and short much to your dismay. and when he pulls away you whine.
bucky lifts a brow at you.
"you sure you just came to see me in this dress for no reason at all?"
"yes i'm sure."
"come here." it takes you approximately a second to obey him. he's sitting on the bench right across the mirror.
he sits you down on his lap so you're both facing the mirror, he also spreads your legs as much as he can. buckys head is on your shoulder his hands still on your bare thighs.
"just came to see me huh?"
he's mocking you but you couldn't care less you just want him to do something.
"please bucky."
he chuckles and you feel the vibrations from his laugh not only that but you can feel his buldge digging into your ass.
you gasp as his cold hands find their way to your breasts. his fingers playing and squeezing your nipple and then he stops.
"don't move be good." you go still and he continues you'd rather have him touch you somewhere else but you need to be patient.
"baby is it okay if I touch you? how is your period? today's your last day if i counted well?"
ever the gentleman, he knows you're not big on period sex it's mostly because you don't like the mess, it's not like you never had it it really depends on the period.
"i'm good. its mostly gone. please touch me."
bucky wanted to rip the panties off but you told him not to do it anymore because apparently he ripped half of your collection.
you stand up and let bucky take them off before sitting down on his lap again.
"just a walk you say... why are your panties soaked darling. did you see something on that walk of yours that you liked." you whine and moan at bucky who is inspecting your very much soaked panties.
"what am I gonna do with you."
buckys hands find their way between your thighs and he's purposely avoiding the place you want him to touch the most.
he lifts the skirt of your dress and looks into your eyes through the mirror.
"you look so pretty like this gonna have to get one for our bedroom, have them mirrors everywhere." you nodd and just want him to fuck you.
finally he slides one finger in and it fills you more than three of your fingers together. he quickly adds another one and you're feeling both like in hell and you're being tortured but also in heaven.
he sits there and his fingers are not moving.
"pleasepleaseplease" you cry out you're so sensitive and needy and you can't belive he's doing this to you.
bucky finally has mercy and starts to move his fingers, the only sound that can be heard are your breaths and his fingers coming in and out of you.
the pace is torture it's slow and deep and he's right next to your g spot and he just won't touch it.
"sound so pretty princess. and look at you just the prettiest doll I've ever seen."
bucky finally adds the third finger, and you're a goner he picks up the movement and touches your spot every single stroak, his other hand, is on your throat, squeezing it.
oh, how you love when he does this.
"bucky bucky I'm close. I'm so close please!"
you manage to choke out when buckys hand squeezes you a bit harder than before.
buckys thumb starts to make circles on your clit and he feels you squeezing his fingers he knows you're close.
"I'm gonna- AHHH! bucky what the fuck."
he completely stops everything, his fingers are out of your pussy his hand no longer around your throat.
you're speechless.
"Doll it's really cute you wanted to take revenge on me but I gotta teach you to be a good girl. can't have you getting ideas."
"but you! I- I didn't do anything!"
"I'll go to see him at work in his favorite dress so he can't resist me and then ill just leave him hanging all day. see how he likes that."
your mouth makes an O and you blush.
"baby you sent that message to me. I'm sure it was meant for natasha but guess you have to check who you be sending these kind of messages to?"
bucky knew you were coming, you had accidentally texted him the message that was meant for nat.
you get up and search for your phone and unlock it and quickly getting to your chat with nat.
you: gonna get him so good nat!!
nat: who ???? what happened??? do I need to kill someone???
shit that's the last message you sent before coming in here you don't even know how you didn't notice the previous message never got to her.
"why didn't you tell me."
"wasn't this more fun?"
"no." you stomp your foot.
you stand in shock when he licks his fingers clean.
"taste so good might have to put you on the menu."
"you're such an-"
"amazing boyfriend whom you love very much?"
bucky finishes your sentence and comes up to you to kiss you, you can still taste yourself and try to deepen the kiss but bucky pulls away.
"don't give me that look doll. I have to go back to work."
you're looking at him giving him your best puppy eyes, at this point you're close to falling on your knees to beg him to just fuck you.
"I'll keep these by the way will give them back tonight."
"bucky no." you look at the panties he stuffed in his back pocket.
"bucky yes."
before he goes back to work, he grabs you from behind and wrapps his hand around your throat and whispers
"don't touch yourself before I get home or you won't get to cum for a week."
then he slaps your ass twice.
"you had some flour there can't have you walking with a dirty dress."
and he walks out.
your phone starts ringing.
nat <3 is calling
"hey are you okay? who are you gonna get? did something happen."
"im okay ill tell you but i'm okay."
"don't scare me like that!."
you apologise and hang up.
how are you supposed to walk home you don't know, your legs are still shaking.
"you okay? need some sugar?" steve offers a doughnut and you just nod.
doing the walk of of shame you shakely leave the bakery maybe this wasn't such a good idea but you're excited for tonight.
[the end]
extra:
"buck is your girl okay? she looked a bit pale and unwell as she was leaving?"
"she's okay just missing some vitamin D luckly it's sunny out so she can catch that before the night comes."
"okay...."
___________________________________________
I'm sorry about the pun udhdhdhd 😭🤡 sue me but I think it's funny
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neowinestainedress · 11 months
Note
hello! im not sure if your request is still open, but do you mind to write a drabble of jaemin slowly corrupting an innocent gf? it starts with casual back massage at first and she says that her breasts are sore before her menstrual period. as a good bf, of course he "helps" her and things escalating from there into heavy fuck and overstimulation
w!: corruption kink, dubcon + light manipulation (DON’T read if it makes you uncomfortable), nipple/boobs play, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected s*x, first time, overstimulation
a/n: jaemin and corruption kink is a concept i love but i don’t think i delivered it the best with this one. i hate drabbles okay? i have to keep things short and i suck at it, but i also wasn’t in the mood to write too much so i hope this is good anyway (if you want something else similar to this there’s drippin’, it’s not only with jaemin but it gets the corruption kink better, and nana is unhinged in that fic so...)
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“That’s because your period is close, baby,” Jaemin coos while his hands keep rubbing on your bare back, he’s sitting on top of you, trying not to weigh much. 
“How do you know?” You pout, cheek pressed against the sofa as you try to look back at him. 
“I just know, babe,” he snickers, hands creeping lower on your back, brushing against your ass, making your body heat up. 
“But they still hurt so much, they’re so sore,” you cry out, trying to fight the embarrassment of having him so close while you’re half naked. It’s not the first time Jaemin massages your back since you often suffer back pain, but, usually, you would let him rub your skin with your shirt on, this time, he insisted you would take it off, so he could use cream and warm your muscles more. 
“I can help you with that.” 
You freeze for a moment, mouth parting in surprise. “Really? You can? How? The pills never do anything for me.” 
“Honey,” he chuckles, “not with pills. With these,” he says, shaking his hands in the air. 
“Oh,” you breathe out, nervously pressing your lips in a thin line while you try to avoid his piercing gaze, gulping nervously as you think of the implications. “It will pass.” 
“Babe, come on, it’s me,” he says, leaning on top of you, caging you under him, “at least turn around, it will only hurt more if you stay like this.” 
“But — but you will see them,” you utter shyly. 
“So? You’re my girlfriend.” 
You think about it for a while, torturing your lower lip between your teeth, but when the pain gets too much, you give up. “Fine.” 
“Don’t cover them.” Jaemin reaches your hands that are cupping your breast and pin them on top of your head. Your eyes go wild, and something you’ve never seen before sparks in your boyfriend’s eyes. “They’re so pretty, baby. It’s a shame it took you so long to show them to me.” 
You don’t reply, feeling so small and with no idea of what to do, so you trust him, letting him do what he knows — surely better than you. 
“They’re so soft, princess,” he hums while his hands gently fondle them, making your body go stiff at the first touch. “Hey, relax, it will feel good,” he whispers, flashing you a toothy smile that makes you forget for a second what’s going on. 
“Why — why are my nipples hard?” You dare to question when you feel them erect, and then shyly look down to see them perk up. 
“Because you feel good.” 
“But I feel like they’re still sore and I feel like even my nipples hurt now.”
“Poor baby, you’re all sore today, aren’t you? You’re lucky you have me to make you feel better,” he pouts, kissing you. 
You’re about to reply but the words leave your mouth — and brain — when your boyfriend’s lips wrap around one of your sensitive buds. Your lips move to call out his name but when he starts sucking on it, you go speechless again. 
“Don’t look at me like that,” he mumbles when he moves to the other, hands still massaging your sore boobs, “I’m doing this for you, babe.” 
You hum, head rolling back in a natural reaction when his thumb brushes over the sensitive nipple he doesn’t have in his mouth. “I feel weird.” 
“You feel good,” Jaemin reassures you, “see? It’s working already.” 
Your eyes snap open when you feel his fingers press between your legs as the other hand keeps taking care of your boobs. 
“Does it hurt here, too, babe?” 
“It doesn’t hurt, it feels — I don’t know how to explain, okay, maybe it hurts a little.” 
“Poor you, falling apart today?” He jokes lightly, leaving a soft kiss in the hollow of your chest. “I really have to make you feel better, I guess.” 
You’re focused on the new feeling of his fingers rubbing between your sensitive spot when you feel something against your leg that distracts you. “What’s pressing on my leg?” 
“Do you want to see?” 
“Uhm.” 
“Oh, that, I —” you chuckle embarrassed when he gets rid of his pants and underwear, “I don’t think I’m supposed to be seeing that.” 
“Why not? I’m your boyfriend,” he says, tilting his head to the side, “would it be equal if you showed me yours, too?” 
“No, I don’t think we — we should be doing this,” you try to complain but it’s all in vain when his hands tug down your shorts and your panties, exposing you. 
“Why? It’s natural, princess. It will feel good.” 
“But it’s intimate,” you whisper, “and weird.” 
He raises his brow. “Have you ever done it?” 
You shake your head. “No, I mean, no, no I haven’t.” 
“Then trust me. I made you feel better even before, didn’t I?” 
“Yeah, fi-fine.” 
When you give him the go, his fingers and lips are on you, touching you and kissing your skin until he reaches your core. Your first reaction is to close your legs, but Jaemin keeps them wide open and pushes his head between them with no hesitation. 
You feel weird, it is too intimate, too dirty, but all your fears and doubts disappear when his mouth wraps around your pussy. You hold in a scream and look down in curiosity, drifting your gaze as soon as you meet his piercing eyes staring straight into you. 
“Nana,” you cry out when his fingertips rub against your opening, smearing the spit and your wetness around. 
“I have to get you ready for the big thing, babe. Don’t want you to hurt,” he says, pushing a finger inside your tight pussy, eliciting a broken moan from you. “Shh, it’s alright, relax, remember I’m here to take care of you, alright?” 
So you focus on the sensation, feeling something build up inside of you when he adds another finger and starts moving them, curling them inside, occasionally making you squirm more, while his mouth keeps working on you. 
“Weird,” you mumble when you feel like that strange sensation is about to blow up, but Jaemin doesn’t tell you much other than ‘let go to the feeling,’ so you listen another time, and before you realize, you come. It’s strong and something you never felt before, even weird, but you like it. “Wait, why are you — why are you not stopping?” 
“I told you, I need you to be ready.”  
“For wha—” your words die down when his other hand reaches for your chest, folding your boobs as he keeps going with his fingers and mouth, bringing you to the edge another time, faster than you expect. 
“Does it hurt?” You ask when he starts stroking his hard dick and you can’t help but stare even if it feels dirty. 
“So much, babe. I need you to take care of it for me.” 
“I can help you? Do you want me to massage it?” 
Jaemin chuckles, shaking his head. “Nah, I have a better idea. Open your legs, honey.” 
“How will this — oh,” you gasp when you feel the thick tip of his cock against your hole. “Will it hurt?” 
“No, that’s why I made you come twice, and I’m going slow. I will never hurt you.” And he stays true to that, letting you get used to his size when he bottoms in, throwing his head back after watching your face twitch at the feeling. Only when he’s sure you’re okay, he starts moving, slow thrusts as he holds himself back, getting lost in the whimpers and moans you try so hard to muffle. 
But that tender feeling lasts about after the first orgasm — the third for you. After that, you feel something pushing you forward, and you don’t know if it’s worst your eagerness to feel more or his pent-up greed for all those months he didn’t have you. 
The second fuck it’s rough, messy, and needy, with your hands desperately looking for the other, and your innocent façade falling apart. It feels unnatural to hear you beg for more, to let out dirty words and curses, but Jaemin loves it so much that you’re falling apart in his hold. 
Jaemin is still sweet somehow, reassuring you and praising you, whispering to your ears that you’re being such a good girl for taking him so well.
“Don’t stop,” you cry out when you both come another time, spurts of white filling you to the brim again. “Please.” 
“So greedy. What happened to my pure angel? It’s not nice to hide part of you from your boyfriend,” he mocks but keeps fucking into you. 
You don’t reply, too ashamed to even look into his eyes, but he harshly cups your chin and forces you to keep eye contact. 
“Don’t act shy, there’s nothing wrong with it,” he smirks, kissing your pouty lips, “we all have dirty secrets.” 
You’d argue yours is not a secret, but simply something you’ve never experienced before, but you have no strength left. 
“Too much,” you whimper. 
“Oh, no, princess, now you take what you asked for.” 
Jaemin doesn’t stop, not even letting you breathe for a second, big dick fucking you deep and fast, making your body tremble and your head feel light, while his fingers move skilfully on your aching, throbbing clit, sending you over the edge more times than you can take. 
And by the time he is done with you, you lost count of how many times you came, too tired to do anything else but stay in his arms and enjoy his soft kisses on your skin. 
“Did so well, babe. Are you feeling better?” 
You nod weakly, hiding in the crook of his neck, feeling conscious again. “Yeah.” 
“See, I told you I would take care of you. You always have to trust me.”
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© neowinestaindress; all rights reserved. do NOT repost, modify, or translate any work from this blog on any other platform and claim it as yours. you can find my works on ao3 (neowinestaindress) and wattpad (winestaintedress_; currently inactive).
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murdrdocs · 7 months
Text
INTERVIEW 007
with. ethan landry
includes. munch!ethan, fem!reader, dom!reader, slight breath play, suffocation via cunt [evil grin]
→ kinktober masterlist
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He does it on purpose. 
You’re sure of it as you chew on the end of your pencil, trying to look interested in whatever nonsense Ethan is surely wasting your time with at the moment. It’s not like you’re trying to be mean, he actually spews nonsense, at least in your perspective. 
Nothing he has to tell you can be as important as the work you’ve been attempting to finish for the last hour. Having helped you at first, Ethan was now virtually useless. Indisposable. He stopped explaining your work to you when you’d ran down your second eraser at the top of your pencil and reached for the larger one he kept in his bag, which required you to brush against his thigh to reach over him. 
You knew that the slight touch is what has him fidgeting so much, leg bouncing as his mouth runs a mile a minute, spewing out rants about the new game he’s been playing. And you’re sure you would find it charming and a little interesting if you weren’t completely frustrated out of your mind. 
Maybe if you weren’t hunched over your desk, suffering from nearly chronic pain in your shoulders and back, eyes strained from looking from your screen to your page over and over again, you would’ve smiled and giggled and kissed him stupid as he attempted to talk around your lips. 
But at this moment, you need to shut him up. 
So you do it in the best way you know how. 
Your shorts slid off, your panties pushed to the side, and Ethan on his knees before you, his nose and mouth stuffed up to your cunt. 
It’s the best form of relaxation you could possibly get; Your nails digging into Ethan’s curls, red standing out prettily against true brown. His equally as brown eyes peer up at you, lashes fanning out around them, kissing underneath his eyes as he blinks. He watches you for your reactions, seeing if you want him to lick around your clit or fuck you with his tongue. 
You want it all, moans high pitched and frequent, gasps and breaths slipping from your spit slickened lips. 
Your feet are propped up against your desk, your legs completely open to accommodate Ethan’s wide shoulders. His arms are snakes around your thighs, large hands squeezing the flesh, blunt fingernails digging into your skin. It’s a nice sting, something to add to the warm and wet feeling of Ethan’s tongue lapping up whatever he can, his own saliva adding to the mess of juices that gather on your cunt. 
Like the good boy he is, he does his best to please you. Knowing that this is your form of payback towards him, that this is you politely asking him to stop talking so much, and put his mouth to proper use. 
You grind against him, fist tightening in his hair as you start to get yourself off. Your eyes are squeezed shut, head thrown back, moans unabashedly spilling from your mouth, but it’s not until you lower your head and open your eyes that you notice the tears in Ethan’s eyes. The way his eyebrows are pushed together as if he’s upset, disappointed, maybe a little embarrassed. 
You can’t help but coo, grip on his locks loosening to gently cup the side of his face. 
“What’s wrong?” Your head tilts. You pout, a cocky grin brewing behind it. “You don’t think you’re doing a good job?” You know that’s it, Ethan a little too preoccupied with using his tongue against you with more ferocity, eager to prove himself. Which, he is, you’re attempting to hide the effect his new fervor has on you by planting your teeth onto your bottom lip. 
You consider degrading him, shading how he’s making you feel with taunts designed to encourage him to make you cum harder. Quicker. 
But it’s too late, he’s dug his tongue as deep as he can reach it into your entrance, using the deft muscle to reach for the spots that he knows gets you the most. His nose bumps your clit, the added stimulation drops your feet from the table to his back, your legs closing around his head as he sends you over the edge. 
He doesn’t protest, even as his air flow gets cut off. Instead, he takes it in stride, using all of his energy to lead you through the haze, to let you sit in your orgasm and then gently bring you out of it.
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anantaru · 1 year
Note
umm hi i love the safe word ask for haitham ayato and wondering if it's ok to ask for a kaeya and diluc one? 🥺👉👈 only if your ok with it ofc 🫣
cw. saying the safeword, fem! reader
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— kaeya
a bone rattling blow crocheted itself into kaeya‘s limbs and muscles faster than in any other occurrences prior.
yet, surrounded by the split second of your breaking utterance, the grueling moment compressed inside his brain the very moment he perceived your cries, kaeya never thought he would ever have to hear it from you— and a freezing coldness washed over him, strong enough to risk him breaking down in front of you.
beyond everything, he works swift to press himself off you and gather a blanket to cover your quivering body, but right now, kaeya doesn't say a single word to you, not before he's certain you're comfortable in your current location.
then, he forces himself to say something, even though his throat was pulling against it, tugging at the twitching limbs, "a-are you okay?"
sticking to the facts, he would love to smack himself in the face right now for a question this idiotic, at least he himself thought it was— you on the other hand nodded frantically while leaving your eyes shut, a mirage of crystallines sticking around your soused lashes but, step by step, fading away.
you sniffle while messily rubbing your eyes, "can you hug me?" and you're hesitant when you speak your sudden needs, although you do not have to. kaeya, your sweet kaeya, was quick to react, quicker then before as he silently plunged himself next to you— lifting his arm before helping you lean into him.
you do not remember the last time you sensed his heart in that manner, as it beat violently in his chest, it shattered your mind, for the first time full on recognizing his own fragility.
"i'm okay." you say, "i'm okay kaeya, i promise." but, you're his love, in his eyes, you are worth his life and all that he had left was you.
nonetheless, you do not see how he was beating himself up internally, all you witnessed was a trembling "I'm so sorry."
an utterance, while quick to spell out, it held a significant meaning to it, over and over he whispered it, sometimes accompanied by tears and cries, until you fell asleep surrounded by his strong arms.
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— diluc
a mind numbing silence— one, which had followed the second you proclaimed the hurting safe word, when it emitted beyond the limits of your own voicing.
diluc‘s hips haltered immediately and his eyes blew open wide, dead and buried. you were his fire, producing the scorching hot flames that breathe all the more deeply for being closer together.
sincerely, diluc was ashamed of himself, he begins to doubt himself and if he was even worth it, at all, primarily that he ever let it go that far.
"love.." he whispers, breathing deep through his nose as you felt the weight of his large palms pulling you off him, "take your time, p-please, take your time, okay?"
diluc moves himself away but sinks down next to you, he sees it too, when you flinch at the slight spasm of pain and hurting, a clear suffering he was the sole reason of.
tears befell his eyes, sticking to his flesh, but diluc doesn't show them to you— not because he was embarrassed of it, it's more that he did not want to waver any attention towards him, this was about you and he needed to be here, to console and kiss away all your pain, if you let him of course.
you see, the man does not touch you, not anymore, at least not before you tell him it's alright. boundaries and the ability to listen were a huge cornerstone he never would've even dreamed of crossing, what he does was being content and aiding you to be comfortable within the warm closeness of fresh silken sheets.
"i think I'm fine now." you breathe a transparency out of your mouth, sloping an inch into his chest to signalize that, yes, it was okay again, that he was allowed to place his hands on you now— but your lovers heaves twitch at the mere sensing of your cheek against his chest as diluc feels how a cold sweat runs down the entirety of his spine.
"i apologize, i'm— I'm so sorry." he takes you gently in his arms, "and i will never let it get this far again."
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©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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Text
The trouble with cones
Written for the @steddiemicrofic challenge, December 2023 edition
Prompt: pine, 508 words
Rated: M
CW: Explicit language
Tags: Coffee shop owner Steve; Tattoo studio owner Eddie; Flirting; Teasing; Sexual Tension
(Everything goes under the cut bc Eddie jumps right to the important question.)
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“Is that a butt plug?”
Steve pinches his nose and heaves a long-suffering sigh. Tries to steel himself for the sight awaiting him. Turns and realizes he failed.
Eddie is leaning in the door of his tattoo studio, mouth curled into a cocky grin. Sleeves rolled up, like the cold doesn't bother him at all, revealing lean forearms covered in ink. Snowflakes gathering in his hair, stark white against the dark curls.
“Fucking hilarious,” Steve rolls his eyes, just barely remembers to cap his window marker before he tugs his freezing hands into his armpits. “Don't you have better things to do?”
“Well…” Eddie's eyes crinkle. “I'm not the one drawing a butt plug on my window.”
“It's a pine cone!” Steve sputters, face lighting up like a furnace. It stings in the frosty air. “Jesus fuck- it's supposed to look festive, why would I draw a butt plug?”
Eddie watches him gesture at the cursed creation he has spent the last thirty minutes slaving over with an expression full of fond indulgence. When Steve signed the contract for his quaint little coffee shop, he wondered why there were no other bidders for the place …
“See, I wondered, but who am I to kink shame you?”
He is beginning to suspect the reason now.
“It is a pine cone,” he insists lamely. “It even has the- what d'you call them? The little nub thingies!”
Eddie quirks a brow. Steve turns and looks at his work.
“Oh fuck,” he groans.
Eddie pulls some hair in front of his mouth, but his shoulders are shaking treacherously. Steve thinks he dies, just a little.
“Here, lemme help.”
Eddie's hands are warm as he steals the marker from his stiff fingers. He whips his bandana from his back pocket to wipe the embarrassing evidence of Steve's total lack of artistic talent off the window, and then-
Then he works his magic. Steve watches him bounce to and fro before the glass like a manic blur of creative energy, brow furrowed in concentration, tongue poking out from between plush lips.
When he steps away, Steve doesn't say anything for a second. Too mesmerized by the image Eddie has thrown together with those quick, efficient strokes of his wrist. A steaming mug of coffee, surrounded by a cluster of artfully scattered pine cones, baubles and twinkling lights dangling above.
“Thanks,” he finally manages to croak. “It's… That really wasn't-”
And then Eddie grabs his arm and pushes back the sleeve of his sweater and he forgets what words are.
“Did you…” he squawks when he finally remembers. “Did you just write on my arm with window marker?”
“Yup,” Eddie says proudly, tugging the marker into Steve’s back pocket. “So that you know where to find me. In case you ever need my assistance with any conical objects again.”
He winks, and then he's skipping into his studio. Steve stays outside and stares at the numbers on his arm for a long time. The snow falls around him, but suddenly he isn't cold anymore.
Part 2
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bwabys-scenarios · 7 months
Text
Ache
Tomoe x Fem!Reader
A/N: sorry the ending is rushed, this has been in my drafts for months so I finished it quickly to banish it from my drafts
!!REPOSTS APPRECIATED!!
warnings: creampie, rough sex, oral(fem!receiving)
if you would like to be added to my nsfw taglist, please comment saying so! make sure you’re taggable, and have your age in your bio!!
taglist:
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In the early morning at the shrine, Tomoe is usually busy. Whether it be washing clothes, sweeping the halls, or trying his best to wake up his Mistress for her college classes, he didn’t get much time to relax.
However, this morning was different. Instead of being out and about, Tomoe was tucked away in his room, unreachable by most.
(Name) had been the land goddess for over a year now, but she’d never seen Tomoe act the way he did now.
Whenever he’d help her up onto their ride, or even catch her before she fell, his touch lingered much longer than it should. He’d pull her into his embrace randomly, when it had been rare for him to do that before.
The jealousy was next. (Name) already knew that Tomoe prided himself as her first and main familiar, but he’d become much stricter lately. Usually she allowed both him and Mizuki to sleep in her room, separated by paper walls, but the last few nights ended with Tomoe dragging Mizuki out and forcing (Name) to sleep alone. Now when Mizuki even glanced at you Tomoe would growl defensively with his arm around you.
Recently she realized something. Tomoe’s usual soft gaze had become harsh and… hungry. As if he was looking at food he couldn’t have.
She first noticed the way his eyes followed her when she walked around in only her short night gown and slippers, the end only barely reaching past her ass. The second time he’s accidentally walked in on her changing. It took a second too long for his gaze to shift and him to apologize before closing the door.
That was the last straw. (Name) was determined to find out why he was acting so strange. She quickly dressed herself before marching down the hall. Before she knocked on Tomoe’s door, she paused.
Mizuki and the others had left the shrine to study humans, and that meant the two were alone. Usually that wouldn’t change anything, but Tomoe’s behavior worried her.
‘Why worry, it’s tomoe. He would never hurt me…’ (Name) shook her head and knocked on the door.
“Tomoe? It’s (Name). We need to talk.”
She listens for a moment, hearing only the sound of hitched breathing and panting.
“Go away.”
(Name) nearly gasped at the husky sound of Tomoe’s voice. Was he okay? Better yet, why was just the sound of his voice making her feel so…
“Tomoe, if you don’t come open this door I’ll be calling Mizuki to do it for me. Im worried about you.”
Tomoe huffed, and (Name) could hear the sound of him standing up and approaching the door. She waited, but he didn’t open it.
“Worried for me… stupid. Should be worried for yourself. I can barely control myself with you right there.”
(Name) blinked, placing her hand on the door. She could almost feel his intense body heat through the wood.
“Tomoe… I don’t understand.”
He scoffed. “Oh but you do. You understand well, (Name). I could smell your arousal from a mile away. Don’t play dumb.”
He wasn’t wrong. The way he spoke to her, his hitched breathing and husky voice. She rubbed her legs together, partially in embarrassment, but also to help ease the ache in her cunt.
“Tomoe… are you in heat or something?”
He didn’t answer, only the sound of his breathing to tell her he was still there at the door.
“Please let me in. I don’t want you to suffer like that.”
She could feel his hesitation, the way he reaches to slide the door open, and finally his hand on her wrist.
He pulls her in, pushing her against a wall and crashes his lips into hers. She barely had time to blink before his tongue was slipping into her mouth. He doesn’t even give her time to think.
Tomoe’s hands drift from above her head and down to her nightgown, pulling it up slowly. (Name) shyly tries to hide how wet she was by pressing her legs together.
Once her nightgown is off, Tomoe’s eyes wander down her body. She hadn’t been wearing a bra, so her chest was on full display for him.
“Mmm…”
His hands cup her breasts, fingers pinching her nipples.
“T-Tomoe!” (Name) manages to whimper out. Tomoe stops, his hands visibly shaking.
“Your chance to leave is now, (Name). I won’t be able to stop myself again.”
He waits for her to leave, watching as she slowly coveres her chest.
“No, I’ll stay. I won’t let you go through this alone.”
(Name) tried to make it seem like she was helping him, but her actions were less than noble. She had been in love with Tomoe for a while, so being treated like she was so desperately needed by him made both her heart and cunt ache.
Tomoe studied her for a moment, his eyes trained on hers.
Before she could think her back was hitting the soft surface of Tomoe’s bed. She had forgotten how strong he really was. He was always so gentle with her, but now he was crawling on top on her, his weight keeping her held down.
She reached up to gently run her fingers through his hair. Tomoe noticed this almost immediately, bending slightly so she had better access to his silver locks.
(Name) smiled at Tomoe’s red face. She’d never seen him so blushed before. She wondered if it was just because of his heat or also because she was underneath him.
(Name) was given a chaste kiss before tomoe slid her panties off and scooted down to stare directly at her pussy.
“Tomoe, don’t look!” (Name) whined out, closing her legs shut.
“Shh. Need… taste…”
Her usually eloquently spoken tomoe could barely speak. His hands pried her legs open with enough force to cause bruises. Tomorrow he would be ashamed and gently care for her, but today that was the last thing on his mind.
(Name) didn’t have time to prepare, his tongue was already inside her. She let out a moan, gripping his hair less gently than she wanted to. Tomoe didn’t seem to mind though, he continued tongue fucking her while his fingers rubbed her clit.
“F-Fuck, Tomoe!”
She mewled, cumming on his tongue. Tomoe was quick to pin her down after her orgasm, positioning his cock at her entrance. “Can’t take it… need you so bad…”
He pushed into her, not even stopping to give her a moment to get used to his length. She grit her teeth, baring the pain before it melted away into pleasure.
“Feel so good… so warm…” he whimpered into her ear, his tail swishing back and forth.
“T-Tomoe!” she whined, her back arching to meet his thrusts. “P-please! Faster!”
He complied, a hand reaching down to rub slow circles into her sensitive clit. It was obvious that he was experienced, making her cum on his cock over and over until she was fucked dumb, only able to whimper and whine underneath him.
Only then did Tomoe’s cum fill her up, his cock continuing to thrust into her as he calmed down. “God… my sweet girl…”
After his head finally cleared, he looked down with a panic, seeing the freshly forming bruises he left on her thighs and hickies on her neck.
He was quick to pull out and tend to her injuries, muttering apologies and giving each wound a kiss. It was all worth it in the end, if she got to be spoiled by Tomoe.
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