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#truly what the fuck. how can he keep getting away with this
st4rbwrry · 2 days
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𝒩𝒪𝒪𝒦𝐼𝐸.
⸝⸝ ౨ৎ :: getou isn’t fond of the new gardener you hired who’s clearly flirting with you when he’s not home.
warnings ౨ৎ 2.7k. fem!reader, lowercase intended, cunninglingus/face riding, cottage core au? + getou’s a farmer, missionary in da kitchen, praising ofc, exhibitionism, jealousy, possessiveness, getou’s kinda rude, sub / dom dynamic, established relationship, rough play, m oral, impact play, unprotected, pet names ex. [ baby, sweetheart ], minors aren’t welcomed! comments and reblogs are appreciated! ♡
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getou doesn’t appreciate that you aren’t greeting him with his usual kisses after you raise on your tippy toes to smooch him after he comes home from a long day of churning butter and tending to livestock. it doesn’t make him happy to know that you’re not tending to his attention and rather giving it to another man after he strolls through your large kitchen, that he built for you, to head into the back of your farmhouse to find you giggling and conversing with the new gardener. a gardener that you personally hired that he had yet to meet.
he could smell the pan of shepherds pie and cornbread in the oven, ignoring the way his stomach growls hungrily and it quickly being consumed with irritation. you’re wearing your cute pink apron with tiny patterns of sunflowers and bunnies as you hold a woven basket of freshly picked strawberries the man before you tossed into. having a conversation about fucking strawberries. he didn’t expect this man to be. . . of your type. tall, nice smile, good hair, makes you laugh a little too fucking hard. what about fruits could possibly be so fucking funny, [♡]?
“what a surprise,” getou’s voice is laced with annoyance, deep and causing the two to go silent as he makes his way down the steps to stand directly next to you. you blink, knowing your husband very well and easily you could tell he’s off.
“hi, baby! this is matteo, he’s our new gardener! we were talking a lot about the new setup i plan on having!” the smile on your face is pure, looking back and forth between getou and your gardener. “he just started today.”
“hey, man. nice to meet you. your wife told me all about you,” matteo remains professional, extending his hand for a handshake. you roll your lips in, waiting for your husband to comply with respect. it’s silent as you stare between both men, feeling the hairs on the back of your neck rise from anxiousness.
“mhm,” is all getou can say, matteo taken aback by his approach. it’s extremely rude, and you blink excessively to keep your composure. taking a deep breath, you form a tight lipped smile towards your gardener.
“excuse me for a moment,” you speak, side eyeing getou before pulling him to the side, matteo continuing his job by picking juicy fruits from their stems.
“what’s your deal? that was fucking rude,” you denounce, gawking up at him with a raised brow. getou folds his bulky arms, not understanding how you’re acting dumb right now. you knew this would piss him off.
getou leans down to get closer to you, lips inches from your ear. “who told you to hire somebody like this?"
"hire somebody like what?" the man retaliates, overhearing getou’s weak attempt of whispering to you, taking offense. regardless, he spoke on his name when he was right there.
getou turns his face only an inch or so, barely giving the man full attention. you swallow, his face nearly touching your own possessively, like an animal protecting it’s mate. getou then switches his eyes fully, intensely staring at the man. "like someone she'd fuck."
his immature response causes you to step away from him with a look of disgust, brows pinched with anger. you couldn’t believe his mouth. you’re not sure what the fuck’s gotten into him, but it wasn’t cute. quite frankly, he looked stupid.
“you’re making a fucking fool of yourself,” you spat, eyes burning. knocking your head back in the sweet gardeners direction, you hold your hand over your heart apologetically. “i am truly sorry for my husband’s rudeness. please forgive me for this, but i think it’s best if you go. i will give you a call tomorrow. i’m sorry again.”
the man nods only once, keeping his focus solely on you, not even bothering to glance in your husband’s direction. his possessiveness a black cloud over the party. “it’s not a problem at all. have a great rest of your day, ma’am.”
the minute your gardener is out of view, that’s when you give getou an irritated snarl, looking him up and down as if the man had no shame. which he didn’t, and that was the problem. “what is wrong with you?!”
getou intakes air as you strut away angrily, heading back into your kitchen to adapt into the ignoring him bubble and completely tuning into your dinner prepping. since you have freshly picked strawberries, you decided to start a mixture for muffins you could sell to the neighborhood tomorrow morning. a festival was being held at the ranch a few blocks down, already promising a few ladies you’d whip something up sweet.
getou follows behind, studying as you huff and puff to yourself while gathering eggs, milk and other things you needed.
“you didn’t answer my question.”
“because it’s fucking stupid. why’d i hire someone to help me out? oh my god, such a mystery.”
“you’re being immature.”
that causes you to stop all movements. holding onto the edges of the island and staring at him with disbelief, mouth actually drawn open as you scoff. “i’m immature? because you didn’t just disrespect that man for no reason. you know him or sum?”
“don’t act slow. you hired that man ‘cause he’s someone you can eye fuck when i’m not home. don’t pretend you don’t find him attractive,” getou grits his teeth.
you roll your eyes. “ohh, so it’s jealousy! why would i want to cheat on someone i’m in love with? you’re being extremely distrustful. take that shit out of my kitchen, suguru.”
“say that again,” he’s approaching you now, getou observing as you cross your arms and pretend to be unfazed by how much bigger he was compared to you. his bare feet thumps along the floor as he nears you, hands in the pockets of his dark washed jeans, shoulders broad as he stared down at you darkly. now your body’s pressed up against the kitchen counter, turning your head the opposite way to avoid eye contact.
“suguru,” you stand on what you say, uncaring. your husband deviously grins.
getou kisses his teeth smugly. you practically moan when his hand grips your jaw to bring your attention back, fingers denting into your cheeks to make your lips pout, head tilted back. “watch that mouth of yours. there’s no need to be bratty.”
teeth sinks into your lips he gawks at for a split second before meeting your eyes again. a feeble noise comes from you as he swiftly pulls up your white sundress, hands on the backs of your thighs to spread you open, fingers pulling your pussy open. not surprised to see you weren't wearing underwear. really, that pisses him off even further. it’s windy out and you were engaging in conversation with that man knowing your pussy was bare. he wants to laugh, seeing how wet you are already. fucking nympho. even though you’re mad, you can’t ignore how hot his touch makes you. you gulp, holding onto the edge of the counter as your gut flips after he crouched on one knee.
his breath hits your clit, and instantly your thighs tremble, getou slowly sticking his tongue out his mouth, wide, long, and slick with saliva. it hovers over your clit, barely touching it. part of you wants to grab his hair and shove him down, but the look in his eyes says not to try it. his fingers come up to your face, extending two of the long digits inside of your mouth. you suck obediently, moaning around them while rolling forward towards his, aching for it. his free hand smacks your inner thigh causing you to release his fingers and whimper, getou wasting zero time and curling them deep into you, shaking them frivolously as his lips suction on your clit, kissing your pussy deeply, using so much saliva.
his stare is hard on you the entire time, wrist moving instantaneously as he fucks you with them. he’s having a ball watching you wither and roll your hips, squealing and raising your thighs higher to your chest, listening to his fingers slam into you, that gushing sound of your pussy coating his fingers.

"c-can’t. . .”

"shut up," briskly, he pulls his fingers out and spanks your clit with them, standing to his feet, towering over you. you rest your head back against the wall by the window, shifting your body since your ass hurt a little from being on a granite countertop.

most of his words are blocked out as you watch the sexually pent-up man drag his pants down until they sit at his waist, pussy clenching at the dark pubic hairs sticking out, lust in your eyes as his veiny, big hand fists his cock. the thick vein leading up to the crown leaking precum makes you smile hazily.

"look at me when i’m talking to you."

you're too fucking mesmerized by him. his slightly dirty white tshirt is hiked up now, godly sculpted abs enticing you to run your fingers over them with a giddy laugh. getou tilts his head to the side, clenching his jaw.

"hey," he calls to you, snapping his fingers twice in your face, voice deeper than usual. you can see that he's not up for bullshit. he’s arched over you, hair sticking to his forehead as he places his right hand on your lower back, arching into him until your chest presses against his. "listen to me when i talk to you, woman.”

the smell of his skin is intoxicating, reaching your hands behind him to claw at his ass, open mouth on his chin, moaning as he slides deep into you, looking down at you with a groan escaping his throat, furrowing his thick brows. getou tries not to lose it, because despite his frustration, there's no way he could deny just how fucking good you felt pulling him deep right now. you hold tight, eyes hazy as he pounds into you without another word, arm stretching over to press his palm on the cabinet above, balancing himself and dragging you to meet him thrust for thrust.

"pussy so needy for me. it fuckin’ better be,” please shut up, is what you think. his voice is too damn addictive, and the way he fucks you, virulently, like he fucking despised you . . . you didn't know if you could take much more. the other half of your brain is the opposite, thanking him over and over.

"oh, look, princess. there’s your favorite man,” it doesn't register that the two of you are legit fucking near an open window where anyone could see. “let’s say hi, baby."

unsure why he came back, it only takes ten seconds for your sweet gardener to immediately be swept with trauma, catching a glimpse at the two of you, getou’s dark eyes burning into him while yours are shut to hide the embarrassment, stomach still flipping with rouse. his fingers has your jaw locked still to keep your fucked out face in the direction of the man who’s nothing short of unimpressed. tasteless, he thinks. wasting no time and turning away to hop back inside of his truck, only coming because he forgot to give you back the key to your garage. his lips are by your ear now. "looks like we’ll have to hire someone else.”

"you’re s-so . . . mean,” it’s the only thing you can think of, trembling and yanking your face out of his grasp. you wanna say you hate him, but deep down you knew this is what you've been craving all along. he’s exactly how you wanted him to be; lecherous. "fuck, can’t stand you.”

"you love me, sweetheart,” he coed, you hiccup. sobbing as he throws one of your legs over his arm, angling his hips slightly to the right and hitting into you faster, rolling your neck back, listening to how viscous his skin claps with your own, and his breath fans over your face.

"awe," he pouts, giving your forehead a chaste kiss. "y‘not gonna say it back?”
“d’nt deserve it,” you’re slurring your words and it pisses you off how dumb he makes you. his hand is around your neck now, choking you until you feel the blood rushing to your skull, luring the back of your own hand to your lips, using it as some sort of blockage for how loud you were being. louder than usual.

inching his lips towards yours, he studies how desperate you are to latch your lips with his, only for him to snatch them away. “then you don’t deserve my kiss.”
a frustrated whine leaves your throat, getou humming tauntingly, delicately skimming his bitten red lips over yours with a moan following along with a whispered ‘no’. tightening his lock around your neck, he rolls his hips deeper, your hand clutching his wrist with tears in your eyes. “not until you tell me you love me.”

you gently sink your teeth into the back of your hand, getou leaning closer before sloppily kissing at your palm where your lips rested, an evil stare painted his expression. he sucks, licks, and moans on your hand, knowing you were wishing he'd do that to your mouth instead. fuck, that was enough to get you to the breaking point. thighs trembling as you drop your mouth open, nothing coming out.

"wait, are you gonna cum?" his mouth upturns as he widens his eyes and mouth with fake surprise. "you’re cumming, aren't you? don’t cum. if you cum, i’ll stop."

"suguru, fucking stop—"

"stop what, huh? why you talkin' back?" shoving his thumb in your mouth, he fucks you harder, body jolting as your eyes roll back and your mouth drools, clutching his wrist harder to keep him there. "weren't you gonna cum?"

"yessss!" you wail, tears falling down your eyes. that coil in the pit of your stomach is ready to snap, getou’s sadistic voice ringing in your ears as he praises you, hips ramming harder to get you to break, clutching the back of his neck and screaming into his chest, giving him the answer he wants, riding the wave. "love you. love you.”
“good girl, good girl,” he proceeds to fuck you through it, just enough until you're pushing at his stomach to stop, kissing up the side of his neck drunkenly. getou slides out of you, holding back a moan before he's grabbing your hand and pulling you off the counter, holding your waist so you don't fall over.

"knees, now."

you're more than happy to lower to your knees, already knowing what to prepare for, lulled, teary eyes focusing on him and the slick coated cock stretching over your face. you hold onto the back of his thighs, widening your mouth and sticking your tongue out, getou holding your head still before gliding his dick inside the cave of heat now inundating him, jaw dropping, using the other hand to hold the cabinet once more and mercilessly fucking your throat. his moans are coarse, grunting and throwing his head back, hips stuttering as he holds you still and shoots deep in your mouth, cursing thousands of times he nearly filled the dictionary.

"swallow it and show me," and you do, without hesitation, sticking your tongue out proudly and it makes getou even prouder. "that’s my girl."

"whatever," you wipe the side of your mouth, getou lifting you off the floor, legs still too weak to function.
“there’s that mouth again, sweetheart. cut it short before i fuck you harder,” oh, he’s serious. that darkness in his eyes telling you not to try it again.
“s-sorry, baby. love you,” you give him those pretty doe eyes he falls weak to, rubbing your hands over his waist while placing your chin on his chest. batting your lashes innocently.
getou hums. “tell me that after you get rid of that fuckin’ gardener.”
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© 𝒮𝒯𝟦𝑅𝐵𝒲𝑅𝑅𝒴! all rights reserved. please do not repost, steal, or modify my work simply because it is mine. stealing isn't cute. i'll ruin your life ♡
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lavender-mommy · 2 days
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rafe gets jealous every time he sees some sucker put his hands on his bunny girl ᕱ⑅ᕱ whether it’s a hand on her lower back, just stepping by to get past her, or a hand on her arm as they say “thank you for your service”—rafe hates it. he doesn’t see the point of it truly. why are you putting your hands on what’s mine? he thinks.
it’s around the end of her shift. her feet ache from walking around in her black heels all night. her makeup is dewy from the warm atmosphere. and she desperately needed to run a brush through her locks. still, she kept the sweet girl-next-door smile plastered to her face.
her last table of the night was a group of men who were there for a bachelor party. they were drunk, rowdy, and super grabby. but it was something that she was used to. rafe, however, didn’t care how casual she felt with their attention and wasn’t going to let them get away with it.
as she was walking by, one of the men grabbed her elbow, forcing her to stop in her tracks. he pulled her down slightly so he could speak into her ear, “why don’t you stay a while?” he slurred.
she smiled harder than she ever could, trying to not show too much annoyance. she ripped her arm from his grip, careful not to spill the platter of drinks she was holding. “let’s keep our hands to ourselves, yeah?” she said, making him throw his head back in laughter.
as he did that, his friend next to him reached out and squeezed her bunny tail.
“hey!” she shouted, instantly placing the platter down on the table and her hands on her hips. “are you dense? I said hands off!”
despite her small demeanor, bunny can handle herself. but rafe being rafe, couldn’t help to insert himself in any situation where she ran into trouble. he slammed his drink down onto the table, the liquid splashing onto barry’s crisp white shirt. “yo, what the fuck man!?” barry yelled.
rafe is by her side within seconds, only being across the room handling business with barry. he’s got this guy pulled out of his seat by the collar of his shirt.
“you think you can touch my lady and get away with it?” he shook his head with a wicked smile on his smile. “naaah, it doesn’t work like that.”
assuming he was one of the bouncers, the bachelor began to apologize. but before he can even finish his sentence, rafe has his fist colliding with his face.
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venmondiese · 5 hours
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Secret teamwork
a request from my lovely @slytherincursebreaker ♡ thank you so much!
Summary: Having a non-commited relationship with Aemond is hard, but as you find yourself pregnant, it might just be harder.
✧Pairing: Modern!Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader ✧Warnings: MDNI 18+, MENTIONS OF ABORTION, p in v sex, pregnant sex, dom and sub undertones, fingering, boss/secretary adventure, slight degradation kink, slight praise kink. ✧Word Count: 6.02k
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Aemond placed his own hand around your mouth, to keep your little squeals and moans away. Your pencil skirt all the way up to your hips, it was almost funny, as Aemond kept you seated atop of one of the broken tables in the storage room of the building. 
“A-Aemond!” You press your hands on his chest, moving the hand on your mouth. “You are… going to be late!” You whine.
“Let them wait” he says softly, his hand pressing against your mouth as his right hand is between your legs, tormenting you as he likes.
He is knuckles deep in your pussy, and he watches your expression as you mewl, holding on his shoulders for dear life. This is probably one of the things he enjoys most in life; tormenting you to his delight. Having you drool and moan like a wanton whore, and how your cheeks get red from the effort to be quiet. 
Your pussy might be one of his favourite things, how warm and wet it is for him. Gives him a sense of power as he knows that he can have you melting on his arms just by fingering you. 
He knows the effort you put to look nice, your face of makeup, your hairstyle, your little outfit. He loves to mess it all up. If it wasn’t for the presentation with affiliates of the company of his family, he’d probably be fucking you with no problem.
But he cannot risk not being presentable as he is the main speaker during the conference. He has a lot of things to explain, and he prefers not risking his image. 
“Shh, shh, moaning like the little whore you are” he says, smirking, as he tries not to allow any little scream to get out loudly. “Come on, baby, delight me. Cum on my fingers” he says, saying sweet nothings in your ear along with it. 
Your big nervous eyes, looking at him as he covers your mouth, is a sight that he doesn’t want to forget, truly.
He is hard, and he hates how he can’t do anything about it. He just looks at you and tries to give you all the pleasure he can’t get. 
“Wanna show me your little moans, baby?” He asks as you nod, and he can picture your pout as your eyebrows go up in a needy way. 
You feel his thumb, going in circles around your clit. It is probably the most delightful thing he does, because it is always precise and pleasurable, as if he has perfected his technique to be at its very best.
Your grip on his shoulders, as he liberates your mouth from his palm, and you let out a sob of pleasure, trying not to scream so loudly, because if you did so, it was over for you and him.
He relishes himself in the little moans and whimpers, in the way your pussy clenches around his three fingers, and he kisses your lips; his hand on the back of your neck is firm, keeping you in place as he kisses and plays with your tongue. 
“Open your mouth” he whispers, and you look up to him, knowing exactly what he is up to. 
You love how he can dominate you so easily. Most men had to make an effort to try to look dominant. Aemond had it naturally. 
He spits on your mouth, making sure to look at you as it falls on your tongue, and the way your pussy clenches as you swallow.
Gods, you are soaking wet. He knows you are close by how loudly your wet pussy sounds as he fingers you, and the little mewls you let out as you press your forehead on his shoulder lets him know that you are losing composure, and your legs are becoming numb.
“I need it, you know that… Give me good luck, baby…” he says softly, and as you let out a loud moan, your thighs squeezing his hand, he leans down to capture your lips on his.
He knows how you need tenderness after cumming. You are prone to become sensible, and more these days, when you always need reassurance. 
He kisses you, sloppy and a bit urged, but not too messy. His tongue makes its own way on your mouth, and he can feel how you are trying to keep up as you let out a muffled loud moan, and he can feel how your walls involve his fingers as you cum.
As you rest your forehead on his shoulder, he takes his fingers out, just to suck them to enjoy your taste, even if it is just a bit. It drives him wild, but he has to restrain himself and nothing makes him more frustrated. 
He rubs your back, as you pant loudly, holding the edge of the broken table, which luckily didn’t break further. He moves to watch the hour on his expensive clock, and he still has twenty five minutes to arrive. He sighs, knowing that he cannot put it on hold any longer.
“We have to go” he says softly, and you whine, not wanting to. 
He moves a bit back, and you let your head fall down as you try to relax your breathing. He makes you lean slightly back, your hands hesitantly going back on the table to hold your weight. 
He moves your panties, which he moved and made sure they remained on the side, so it doesn’t bother his work. He places himself between your legs, as he looks down and both of his hands move to accommodate your panties gently, without a hurry. His fingers tentatively caress your clit, but don't press their luck. 
“Come on. We can go to the bathroom and get presentable again” he whispers, grabbing your hand, pulling you to your feet. 
The heels you wear are probably uncomfortable, and he sighs, suppressing the urge to roll his eye. He pulls down your carefully ironed pencil skirt, and he tries to make it presentable again. 
“You didn’t bring other heels?” He asks softly.
“No” you murmurs, looking at him with tired eyes.
“Gods, woman.” He says rolling his eye “I am going to start to buy you comfortable shoes and leave them in my office, so you don’t have to wear those things”
“It is protocol” you say looking at him, as he takes your purse and hangs it on your shoulder.
“I am the boss. If I want you to walk around naked or in pyjamas, it is my call to make” he states softly, and he leans to kiss your cheek lovingly. “Come on” 
He grabs your hand, and you follow him quietly, as he makes sure no one is around as you two walk, hand in hand to the bathroom.
He goes into the men’s bathroom and you to the opposite.
He is quite meticulous, and so your appearance isn’t messy or ruined. If something, you look exhausted. You reapply your red lipstick, and put a bit more mascara. Not too much, you don’t wanna look vulgar either.  
You place some loose hairs back into position, and accommodate your clothes again. You sigh, looking at yourself in the mirror.
The secretary and her boss. You think, as you press your lips together, nibbling the inside of your mouth. 
Once you go out, Aemond was outside waiting for you, using his phone to probably answer some texts. 
“Ready” you say, and he looks flawless once again. If he had an erection, there is no trace of it. He is truly surprising, like a little box of mysteries.
“Let’s go then” he says as he looks at you, hesitating before walking away and pressing the elevator button.
The way to the auditorium is silent. He checks his phone, and you check the little agenda where you write down everything he has to do. 
“Westeros' investors group will be here” you remind him. “And so will the Yi Ti’s empresarial boss, as you know…”
“Uh huh” he agrees. “Will my half sister…?”
“Yes. Rhaenyra will make her appearance as the heir of…”
“Don’t”
So you don’t. “Edyr Karstark will be as well” as the lift doors open, he walks out and you follow him. “Coryanne Dayne and Morgan Martell as well, from Dorne…”
You walk with him as he stops, and you see his mother and grandfather waiting for him at the door. 
Aemond looks at them, sighing. He turns to you, and you have to take a moment to move your gaze away from them.
You see the posture of Alicent straighten as she looks at you, as if squinting her eyes slightly. She holds her arms, her green dress is elegant and she looks intimidating. Otto Hightower makes no effort to hide his disgust, and he looks at you as if his eyes could throw daggers at you.
“Don’t mind them” he whispers to you “They just…”
“Hate me” you finish for him, accepting the fact.
“They… It’s just complicated”
“I am the whore who lies with my boss for his money.” You say the words that his family thinks but never say out loud. 
“You are not… You are more than that” he says softly. 
You walk behind him, as he goes to greet them. You always follow him everywhere, most of the time. You take care of the tiny details of his work life that he didn't care about. Learning names in meetings, learning the interest of the people to help him. Reminding him of his busy schedule.
“Aemond” his mother greets him, a kiss on both sides of his cheeks.
You two becoming closer was just natural, you’d told your friends. You two were single, and you spent more time with him than in your own home. And otherwise. 
It was not long ago when his sister and brother found out about you two, and so his mother knew naturally, and so did his father, grandfather, half sister… It scared you to death.
Alicent had talked to you about quitting, how easier it would be than a scandal. You never could realise if she was saying this from the goodness of her heart or to keep you away from his prestigious son. 
Otto Hightower was more direct, as he presented you with a letter of dismissal, which Aemond had to defend you. It was embarrassing, but you just… liked him, to endure his odd family.
“Hello, miss” Alicent says, and Otto greets you as well. You force a smile, and nod a quick greeting to her. “They are all waiting for you” she murmurs, and looks at him. “Your father has come for this, as well”
“Ah” he says, you can see how his mouth turns down in disgust. 
“It is well prepared” Otto adds “It is fine work. If your project is approved, those months in Yi Ti will be all for you” 
You look at your hands at the reminder. You won’t be going along, and it was a bit odd. On purpose, if even. But you have never said it outloud, less to Aemond, because it was truly an amazing project.
 “If you could bring me a glass of water…?” He asks you, and you nod. 
You walk to the presentation table, looking at the people around, chatting and greeting, no one really watches you. You take some of the bottles and pour it down in a glass for him, walking to the door, as you almost stumble against Alicent and Otto. 
“I wanted to thank you” Alicent says, and you stop a bit confused, looking at her. “He wouldn’t have done it so smoothly. You two do a great teamwork” 
It is half a compliment, you guess. She is trying, at least to be cordial. “Thank you”
You are quick to escape, and you watch Aemond at the door waiting for you. He doesn't seem too nervous, he never reveals his feelings so easily.
“Thank you” he says, in a softer voice. Drinking a bit of water, leaning out to see the people inside “I’ll remember those names you said. Any particular… thing you recommend me to say?”
You look at him, and say “Well, a greeting is much more welcomed than just starting speaking.” He looks back at you, and he nods softly “And look at them in the eyes”
“It is them who don’t see me in the eye.” He says trying to be funny.
“I am serious” your lips curl up, and add “Don’t be nervous. No one here knows more about it than you. And try not to fight” 
“You know me too well, for my disgrace” he says smiling. “How do you feel about that great bonus in your next check?” He asks slightly amused.
“Feels like the Gods have take mercy on my soul” 
You move to take a little lint on his shoulder, dangerously close in public. He isn’t one for public displays of affection, less with you. 
Perhaps that’s why his mother and family disapproved more than if you two were something. You were his secretary, and him your boss. Not partners, no compromise. 
It makes you anxious, sometimes. How could you even ask him? Not that he would take advantage of his power position over you. It wasn’t about asking your boss what exactly you two were. It was about asking him, Aemond Targaryen, what he truly felt about you. 
You could find another job, but you couldn’t find another him, another Aemond. 
“You’ll do fine. I made sure there is water, and those mint sweets” you tell him. “The control of the presentation is ready, and there are no cables for you to stumble on. The table is seated so your blind spot doesn’t face the public. It is rotated so you can read the presentation as well, so don’t worry.” 
Aemond looks at you, looking inside for a moment before wrapping one arm around your body, pulling you both out of sight as he leans to kiss you passionately, for a few seconds.
You kiss him back, if anything a bit surprised about his bold action. As he pulls away, he is quick to recomposture himself, and smirk. 
“I don’t have lipstick on?” 
“No…”
“Good” he says with a smirk. “Go and take a seat. You have earned it” 
With that, he walks inside. You blink, a bit flustered and surprised. When you look inside, you see Alicent Hightower watching you, all tense up, sitting next to her husband, who is talking to Rhaenyra. She saw you. 
You were about to be sick. You turn around as a gag comes out of you, covering your mouth, yet you don’t feel the disgusting feeling of something coming up your throat. Perhaps because you have not eaten anything today.
You try to act normally, as you walk to sit at the side of the window, looking at the cars in the street passing by, as you hear how the conference is to start. 
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“Where is he, again?” 
 “Probably Yi Ti right now” you say, sitting on the kitchen counter as Amanda prepares the lasagna. 
“And he got funds for this? Like his rich family couldn’t just… allow him to borrow money?”
“Doesn’t work like that” you say amused. 
“Ha. I know” Amanda says, chuckling. She was one of your ex coworkers, and you used to have lunch with her everyday, before she quit for a better job. “How is he?”
“In what sense?” you ask, looking at your margarita yet you haven’t drink any of it yet, too occupied in the chatting.
“Happy, I mean. I don’t think I have ever seen him… Happy. Or smile. Have you?”
“Yeah” you say smiling at how silly that question is. “Duh.” You say rolling your eyes. 
Amanda turns on the furnace as she waits for it to get a bit hot before putting the lasagna, and she looks at you. 
“And did his family was there? His mum? The Alicent Hightower?”
“All of them. Viserys, Alicent, Otto, even Rhaenyra. Helaena went for moral support” you say chuckling. 
“And what about the mistress?” she asks, raising an eyebrow, and you roll your eyes.
“Alys Rivers?” You ask her. “I think she was there…”
You try to shrug it off, but it boils your blood the thought of her. More with her story with Aemond, how intimate they had been. It makes you gag.
“Oh, it burns you from the inside!” She giggles, and she places the lasagna inside the oven. “Is the Margarita good? I haven’t tried it…” she asks, moving across the kitchen to take a sip. 
“I will try it…” you say, moving your straw around, and you are hit by the hard scent of alcohol.
“It is good for a drink bought in the supermarket, you know? I waited for…”
“I am going to throw up” you say standing up from the seat, as you make your way to the bathroom of her house.
Aemond has been gone for maybe two weeks at this point, and you keep on gagging at smells, of any disgusting kind. There were only four things you relished on; the smell of the mints that Aemond liked, gasoline, hot dogs and coffee. 
Throwing up is not nice; the first time is because of the sickness, and the rest is purely out of disgust for the vomit. 
You wash your mouth, and try not to leave her bathroom with the scent. Once you come back, you see that Jasper, her fianceé, has arrived.
“Are you okay?” Amanda asks, as she walks over to you. “You love Margaritas, are you not sick? Oh! Is that restaurant where you went with Aemond to the triumph meal?” 
He made you accompany him, with his family and associates, to a dinner that his grandsire organised, in an expensive restaurant, after the triumph of having his project accepted and founded. You vomited all the food at night, probably because of the lobster. 
“It was over two weeks ago” you say, shaking your head. “I always get sick when I am about to get my period. Being irregular has its disadvantages ” 
“Oh, I get that feeling” she chuckles, going back to the kitchen as her finaceé is drinking her margarita.
You stand still for a few moments, and you realise the possibility. Probably the reality, as you had all the symptoms... it made total sense, and you stood frozen as you realised.
You were pregnant.
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It is two months later when Aemond comes back. Half of his project has been completed, a total success. But his business in Yi Ti was more than done, and the oriental atmosphere was too much for a Westerosi man like him. 
He was not surprised with your resignation letter as he came back to the office, which was why you wouldn’t answer any of his texts or calls. Three weeks into his journey, he got your resignation letter, accepted by his grandsire, which only needed his signature. 
He called, and called. And nothing. You probably ghosted him, and he called Helaena to check on you. He didn’t trust his mother or grandsire. 
According to his sister, you just needed to let go of some things of the past as you realised you had more ambitions than being a secretary. 
On Friday, he is in your apartment. The building was old, and it had barely four floors, and you lived at the end of it. He has stayed in your apartment once or twice, but mostly he just passed when he dropped you off.
Luckily, he comes at the time where the old lady of the first floor is getting inside with all the supermarket bags.
“Let me help you” Aemond says as the lady is struggling between managing the heavy bags and opening the door. 
“Oh, thank you, young lad” the woman says, as he takes all the bags from her arms. He enters first, and waits for her to walk, very slowly.
The woman opens the second glass door to enter the building, and she stops at the mailbox, checking for her apartment number.
“You want me to grab yours too?” The sweet lady asks, and Aemond hesitates.
“Uh, sure. Thank you” he says, and in the silence he realises he has to say the number “41” he remembers the number of your apartment, and the lady grabs the mail for today. 
They make an exchange, where he leaves the bags in her house, and she gives him the mail. She is sweet and Aemond has a smile as he has to go all the way up to the fifth floor. 
He is not one to spy, but you have a lot of mail. Mostly about some subscriptions you made, he is curious to see if you have anything from your new job. 
He stops, mid stairs as he watches the pink envelope.  A woman’s choice. 
He hesitates a bit, before he pulls out his phone. He remembers that. Helaena and Rhaenyra both made a contribution for that clinic, didn’t they? It was the woman’s building of the hospital in Visenya’s Hill. He walks slowly upstairs, he is midway the third floor, as he walks up slowly. 
He searches for the name of the clinic, and he hates how bad the signal is. He sees the three dots moving, loading the page slowly. 
His stomach drops as he reads. Pregnancy termination clinic.
He doesn’t understand anything. 
He stands frozen, with phone on one hand as he holds the envelope behind. His mind is racing. He knows you are not subscribed to it just because. He hasn’t heard in months about you, and he doesn’t know what to conclude about this information. 
It feels an eternity before he knocks on your door. Once. Twice. Nothing.
He doesn’t hear the wood crack under your weight. It was painfully obvious when someone stepped on it, he remembers one time when he dropped you at your house, drunk, and you both laughed at how silly it sounded at every step you both took. 
He missed you, he realises. Scratch that. He knew that he missed you, but not that much for his heart to ache like that at the memory. He misses you. He feels incomplete. 
You open the door, obviously expecting anyone but him. 
You are wearing a black hoodie, using a face mask, probably orange scented. You always made sure to be well looking  in the sense that you took care of your appearance. 
You look different. He blinks slowly, as he looks at you, frozen in his place. He isn’t normally so stiff, he is usually more straightforward, a man of business. 
“Aem– Mr. Targaryen” you say, a bit surprised. The way you refer to him stings.“You are back. To what I owe the pleasure?” 
It is at the same time that you realise that he was holding your mail, as his eye trails down to your hidden stomach. Your clothes are too big to realise, which only makes him more confused, and suspicious. He can’t see anything to confirm, but it is unusual, you don't like to wear these kinds of clothes.
“You… quit” he says, dumbfounded.
“Yes. Nothing personal” you say tapping your fingers on the door. You were anxious. “I am sorry if it came at a bad time.”
He looks at you, as the lie comes naturally to you. 
“Can I come in?” 
Your place is a bit messier. He knows something is up. You move your hands to take off that stupid face mask, and your face is all shiny from it.
“I am not really… I was not expecting… visitors”
He was more than a visitor, and you knew it. You missed him. He looks as handsome as you remembered. You didn’t go to the airport, but you kissed him farewell in his office. 
“Are you… pregnant?” 
You blink at your boss. At your something. At your baby daddy. At Aemond Targaryen.
He can see the little panic in your eyes, and he lets a scared sigh. He covers his mouth as he looks at the side.
“I should have been with you” he says regretfully, and his heart feels at the floor. “I was away, and you…. You should have been so…” he doesn’t know if it is useful to say it, it was probably traumatic to you. “Forgive me. If there is anything…”
You hear his heartbroken words, still holding the door as you blink. “ thank you…” 
“We are still a team” he says, looking at you. “We… we always had been. I would have dropped everything to be with you at that moment” 
He looks at you, so calm and collected. He feels like losing his mind, and he feels pure guilt. He wants to ask you. Why didn’t you tell him? Why didn’t you? He knows it is selfish to ask, but it was also his mistake. He would have helped you, held your hand and all of it. He would have been prepared, read about it, to comfort you in the grief, all of it.
“And forgive me for… spying on your mail, I just wanted to see if you had a new job…” he says, extending the mail, embarrassed and vulnerable. You have never seen him like this, it is almost scary.
You take the mail, and you see the pink envelope first, among the white ones. It was atop, and you looked at him.
“Maybe you should get inside” you say, moving to let him in. 
He sits on the couch, and you sit by his side. The silence was crushing, and so you speak.
“I should have told you..”
“I understand-”
“Let me speak” you say, and he shuts up. He looks at you, and you keep talking. “I… I didn’t get an abortion, Aemond” you say softly, looking at him, at how his expression changes, trying to get the words in. 
“What?”
“I just… It was an option. I was… I was scared. I am still, a bit. But… I want this baby” you admit softly, not looking directly at him, as you so shyly admit your feelings to him.
He is confused. “You… You didn’t?”
“No…”
He leans back on the couch, breathing hard at the realisation. He might faint, he has gone through many emotions in little time.
“So you are…”
“Still pregnant. Very much” you confirm, and he lets out a sigh. “And… you are the father”
Aemond bites his lips on the inside of his mouth, and he looks at the ceiling, passing a hand over his face. 
“Oh” 
“Yeah…” you say, at how stiff he is. “Three months and a half.” 
As you stand to grab your wallet, he thinks. Three months and a half back, it was probably the time when he had so much work left, that he fucked you in his office. Or was it the time where you two fucked over the cabin? 
“Here” you say showing him the ecography picture. 
In the middle of the black part of the ecography, he could see the curled up little figure. He looks at it, as if it would disappear if he moved his gaze away. It is wonderfully diminutive, yet it fills him with pride, seeing something so little that makes him feel so many things. 
He missed it. It was the most important ultrasound, and he missed it. He wasn’t there to hold your hand either, when you took all the exams to determine any genetic syndrome. He should have been, right at your side, to be part of it as well.
“It is… wonderful” he says, with a small chuckle. “You think, I could… get a copy?”
It is the subtle confirmation that you didn’t expect. He wanted this, as you did. You never talked about having kids, less so when you were never anything serious. 
“Keep it” you say softly. “I already took like hundreds of copies, you can keep it.” 
It is a surprise that he sobs, and he looks at the image. 
“You… Oh, gods..” he says, feeling utterly hopeless as he watches the little paper. He is going to be a dad, it was so… odd. “I didn’t know. I wouldn’t have left..”
“I didn’t either” you say. 
He looks at the image, he doesn’t even cry on purpose, just some tears falling naturally. His thumb moves to caress the paper, as if it was a soothe for him and the baby.
“You quit, how are you… affording all of…?” He makes a gesture. Everything, he wants to say, but he doesn’t want to be invasive.
“I have a part time job at a friend’s coffee shop.” You say with a nod “And a fair bit of savings” 
He looks at you, shaking his head as he feels his tears dry. He was thinking so many things. He is going to be a dad. He has not contributed anything. He has to take care of you. And the baby. He has to help you. He was going to be a dad.
“you shouldn’t have quit. It was a stable, good paid job, and the office has great maternity leaves.” 
“And would they give me more months because my boss is my baby daddy?” You ask, not from malice, but he bites his lip.
“They told you to quit, didn’t they?”
“Nobody told me” you assure him.
“They paid you.” 
“They didn’t. I wouldn’t have accepted it”
“Why didn’t you tell me, then?” He asks, almost heartbroken.
You look at him, nervous, and you don’t dare to look him in the eye. “I did the maths, Aemond. You didn’t seem the type to… you know. Compromise” 
He looks at you. It was right. He wasn’t one to show his emotions. It was probably the first time someone saw him cry, since he was like twelve, and he always made sure to keep a distance between him and the rest.
“I am not.” He says softly, looking at the image, and he sighs. “But… you and I are a family” he says, licking his lips. “and we will always be a family, with… them” he adds, pointing with a tilt to the ecography.
It is a haunting truth, that you knew. You’ll always be bound to Aemond. A scary thought. 
“We will. But I want to know, what are we?” You finally ask him. Decisively, you need to know. 
“You have my body and soul” He admits softly, and he bites his lip. “Both of you. I am committed to you two…, always. Always, of course. There is no one else I want, that I choose.”
You truly don’t know how or when you end up in his lap, kissing softly as he holds you on it. It is different from his dominant demeanour. 
He is almost rewarding you with caresses and kisses, holding you gently. He would do anything you ask him to, and he is so afraid to lose you two. He almost did, both of you, and he doesn’t want it to happen ever. 
He holds you as if you were fragile, and to this moment you are; he holds both of his most precious things, and you carry his baby.
“I am not going to break” you say against his mouth, pressing a little tighter. “I need you” you add, your hot breath on his mouth as his hands presses in your back.
“I need you too” he admits, as he accommodates on the sofa to hold you. “Here or on the bed?” 
“Wherever…”
The bed it is.
He held you all the way there, which was not a long way either, but it is good to be in your bedroom, where it smells like you, and some strange mint scent that reminds him of the mints he eats.
“Look at you, baby” he says as he takes off your clothes, eagerly, and desperate. “So beautiful as always, dripping wet for me” he says, and you blush slightly from his compliments. “aren’t you?”
“yes. i am”
“how am i even going to go on with my work when you are not there to indulge me a bit?” He asks, as he is the one to desperately take off his clothes, as you lean against the pillows, watching him. “When the idea of leaning you on my desk was enough to make me finish all of it quickly, and call you to my office.” 
He accommodates behind you, both of you laying as he kisses your shoulder, and then your nape, and leaves soft love bites, not meant to last long.
“But now you’ll just wait for me at home, hm? In my own bed, all for me” he says and you search his lips and share a sloppy, messy and wet kiss, needy and primal. 
You missed him. You needed him. 
The pregnancy hormones drove you insane. And missing Aemond was something your little babe was sure to make you feel it at all times. 
“Yes, yes, I need you inside” you feel his hand, moving to wrap your waist, and he moves behind you, holding your leg with his other hand. 
He cannot wait to see you heavily pregnant. You have a little belly, which is adorable. He supposes that, as he was, the baby will be small too. 
But he craves for when you’ll need his help to do anything. And he’ll delight himself in it.
“you missed me?”
“So much” you turn your head, for your arm to be around his neck. It is probably a twisted position, but he is not one to complain. 
His lips capture yours as his cock finally slides into you, you moan against his mouth, and his grip on your body tightens a bit. He is going insane.
He is ruthless at every thrust he gives you, and you surely are more tender at each movement of his cock in your pussy. The time apart, or your hormones, he didn’t care, as he immerses himself in pleasure. 
“So big” you moan against his mouth, and his hot breath hits your mouth as well. “I love it”
“I love you too” he says, his face nuzzling your cheek as he doesn’t think too much about what he just said, and just focuses on the way your cunt clenched around him, warm and soaked, a very warm welcome.
He holds you as precious as you were to him, but firmly, tightly. His hips swing as his cock moved and makes it’s way in your pussy, the little way his cock throbs inside, leaking the precum inside. 
“You already marked me. Everyone will know that i am yours– so fucking yours…”
The thought makes him moan. He always loved that, making you go out of his office full of hickeys and love bites, sending you back to your desk all flustered and shaky.
“Hm, you love that, don’t you? They can’t fuck you like I do” he adds smugly, as he presses open mouthed kisses on your neck.
You moan as his fingers search your clit, and are quick to find it, and he groans at how receptive you have become.
“I’ll fuck you so hard, baby. So, so hard” he promises, for the future. For now, he just needs you. “Such a good girl. Always a good girl” 
The way you squirm, and your whimpers drive him into release as well. Your legs always do that thing that he knows very fondly, they shake and your muscles tense up when you are cumming, in a very certain way. It is almost always the same, and he has grew to find it endearing, everytime he fucks you he waits for that moment. 
He thinks he is much simpler, he holds you closer to him, as if forcing you to remain there, as his balls tighten and he cocks throbs before cumming deep inside. He lets out a loud groan, rolling his eye back as he holds you. 
The way you two remain naked, yet laying together it is something he never does usually. With you, a few times. He always tends to you, and made sure you were relaxed. But you never did pillowtalk after it, you usually were exhausted and he was tired too. 
“You know what? It is almost unfair” he says, moving to search his pants.
“Oh?” You ask curiously, as your eyes follow his frame. You don't get what he means exactly, but you wait for him to elaborate.
“I brought you a present. Well, I brought two things–” he finds it in his pocket and extends it to you, and you smile upon the realisation.
“oh, Aemond…” you say looking at the bracelet, and you smile at him. “It must have been… so expensive”
“It is your favourite colour” He points out “Isn't it?”
You nod, as he moves to leave it in your nightstand, just to pull you closer to him. 
“You have given me more… expensive gift” he adds, moving to your side again, and he wraps his arm around your waist, leaving one of his hand to rest atop of your belly, firm and growing. “Thank you”
You see the gratitude in his eye, and you smile softly. “Well, to be fair it is a product of very extensive teamwork…”  
“It truly is, hm?” He asks, smiling as he moves to your side again. “We truly do make an remarkable team”
126 notes · View notes
hypnoneghoul · 2 days
Text
Attitude
WC: 2,5K
Relationship: Rain/Phantom
Tags: Aquarium Date, Fluff and Smut, Semi-Public Sex, Groping, Dynamic Switch, Degradation, Dumbification, Bathroom Sex, Name-Calling, Rimming, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Mildly Dubious Consent, Creampie, Coming Untouched
Their date is going well, but Rain’s patience for Phantom’s groping has been running thin for hours. He finally loses it when he grinds his dick against his ass as he bends over a fence. Or Rain and Phantom go on an aquarium date and fuck in the bathroom.
Notes: Commission for @revengeghoulette :3
Read under the cut or on AO3.
Rain wanted to take Phantom out for an aquarium date—or any proper date for that matter—for months now. Between his and Aurora’s summoning and tour there wasn’t much time and they didn’t really know each other well then. The tour itself was too packed and unpredictable and after it finished they all needed some time to recharge. But now, over a year later, the date can finally happen.
Both Phantom and Rain are barely keeping themself from jumping and giggling excitedly, not only at the prospect of seeing all those cute water creatures they’ve been reading and listening about, but also getting to spend some nice time together; go on a real date, like real couples do.
They’ve both got colorful and shiny stickers and maps to be filled with them, with what they’ve already seen—like a checklist. Rain squeezes Phantom’s hand as they walk through the entrance, both grinning.
As they get lost in the dark tunnels—as they get surrounded by darkness, the peaceful sound of water, colorful creatures and each other—they truly get lost in it. It’s brilliant.
Of course at some point one of them gets slightly distracted. Phantom lingers by one fish for a few short moments more than Rain does, and so he waits for him by the next tank. When the quintessence ghoul does turn to him, though, his eyes get caught on Rain’s ass.
That’s when Phantom realizes what pants he’s wearing. It's that pair.
Phantom isn’t religious in the slightest, but he would pray to whatever god sent those pants Rain’s way. His ass was already delicious to look at—and not only—but when he put these on? No one, human or ghoul, could walk past him without staring at his stupidly perfect butt.
The worst thing was that he knew exactly what he was doing, and a glint in his eyes when he saw Phantom’s realization only confirmed it.
Now that Phantom’s noticed, he can’t tear his eyes away from the damn thing. The fish and all the animals are really fascinating and he doesn’t want to waste their time there, but Rain is extremely distracting. And Phantom is a very touchy ghoul.
He tries to be sneaky at first; brushing his hand against him here and there, wrapping an arm around his waist and letting it wander down as if by accident, or gluing himself to him from the back. Just to take a good look at the manta rays, though.
Thankfully, the pants have pockets which—as Phantom figured out some time into their date—are just perfect for him to shove one of his hands into as they walk. Rain grumbles about it, about how it’s not comfortable to walk like that, but it's obvious he enjoys the attention. Of both the quintessence ghoul and other people in the aquarium. Most of the humans wouldn’t have anything nice to say, most likely, but the ghouls absolutely don’t care.
Still, Phantom ends up taking his hand out and sticking to holding hands with Rain. Most of the time, at least, because he absolutely does not miss any opportunity to touch the water ghoul’s ass, maybe even squeeze a little if he’s lucky.
Rain isn’t exactly opposed to that, but at some point it begins to annoy him. Phantom gets distracted, and maybe it’s his own fault for picking those pants to wear, but the quintessence ghoul should be able to behave. Especially in public.
They are enjoying their date, though. The aquarium is huge and full of really interesting animals and Rain and Phantom would stay there for ages if they could.
Thankfully they can take pictures.
They take a lot of them; normal ones of the creatures, selfies, and candid shots of each other. Phantom will end up printing a ton of them out and adding to his already covered wall to admire every day. Maybe he'll give some out to their packmates, too.
He thinks he’s got a favorite one, though. Rain stretching with his arms over his head and eyes closed—with a sliver of skin peeking out from under the hem of his shirt—and a fish that looks just like him in his aquatic form right behind him in the background. The water ghoul also has one that he favors, of Phantom bending back with a huge smile and fitting perfectly to the curve of the water tunnel to look at a huge sea turtle swimming right over him.
They kiss in that same tunnel just as a whale shark swims by them, asking a nice old lady—the only other person there at the moment—to take a picture for them. It turns out surprisingly well for how her hands were shaking.
It’s perfect and they’re both as close to heaven as any ghoul can ever get.
But even though their date is going well and they’re having fun, the water ghoul’s patience for the other’s groping has been running thin for hours. He finally loses it when Phantom all but grinds his dick against his ass as he bends over a fence to look down into one of the open pools where a couple of otters are swimming happily.
They’re nearly at the very end of the aquarium anyway.
Rain growls as he swiftly turns around—not caring for humans all around them, just as Phantom doesn’t—and grabs the other’s wrist. He squeezes just hard enough to be painful and drags him along the line on the floor leading to the end and the bathrooms. Phantom trips and curses under his breath, but can’t deny he’s got a nice view from just behind Rain like this.
The next thing he knows he’s being thrown shoulder first into a swing bathroom door, “Ow!”
“Shut the fuck up,” Rain spits and even though Phantom’s instincts tell him to obey, he think he’s got a better idea. He definitely has a better idea, he just has to wait for the right moment.
The stalls turn out to be big and actually going down to the very floor, and Rain couldn’t be more pleased with it. He wouldn’t, of course, mind getting some additional…ears, here and there—he’s an exhibitionist at heart—but what he wouldn’t want was for them to get thrown out and banned from the place. The aquarium is awesome.
He pushes Phantom into a stall at the very end of a long line of doors and quickly flicks the lock before pressing him against the wall, chest to back. “You just had to piss me off, yeah? Couldn’t have had a nice moment like normal fucking people without you acting like a whore let out into the public?”
“You know I get bored easily,” Phantom bites back and Rain snaps his—suddenly unglamored—teeth right next to his ear. He grabs his arm and yanks it back to spin the quintessence ghoul around and shove him down onto his knees. He goes down without much of a fight, just like he does for Dewdrop on stage, and Rain doesn’t notice how…suspicious that is in these circumstances.
The water ghoul leaves him there and starts to fumble with his zipper, nearly ripping it open. He would if it were any other pair of pants. Phantom watches with hungry eyes and waits and just when Rain is about to pull the waistband down just enough to get his cock out, the quintessence ghoul goes for it.
He grabs his hips and turns him—so rapidly Rain loses his footing—to face the wall. On instinct he puts his hands to brace himself and he’s so surprised by the sudden switch he can do nothing but whine as Phantom drags his jeans down to his very ankles.
“You fucking wanted this,” the quintessence ghoul laughs. “If anyone’s a whore in here it’s you, Rainy.”
Rain’s brain immediately gets fuzzy.
The sweet whine Phantom gets from him as an answer pulls another cruel laugh out of him and he stays on his knees, but shuffles closer. He knocks Rain’s legs further apart—as much as the pants and underwear around his ankles allow—and goes right for his ass. The water ghoul gasps against the tiled wall when Phantom grabs his cheeks and starts kneading.
“B–batsy, come on,” he mumbles and, only proving his earlier words, pushes his hips back; suddenly very eager.
“Whore, as I said,” the other says quietly, more to himself than Rain. “I bet you’re soaked already, let’s see–”
With that he spreads him and hums—Rain can’t gather if it’s in approval, or the opposite. The water ghoul really is soaked already, his hole truly drooling slick. A minute more with his underwear up and he’d have a sizable wet patch for Phantom to mock.
That may, or may not, give him an idea for later.
For now, though, he leans in to taste him—licking a stripe from his taint up to where his tail would be if he wouldn’t be glamored. Rain moans wantonly at that. His legs shake already.
The quintessence ghoul notices and grabs him just below the knees to gift him a tiny bit of stabilization before he truly dives in.
He shoves his face between Rain’s cheeks and licks into him sloppily, both because he likes it like that and because a whore like him deserves to be licked and fucked messy. The water ghoul cries out, letting out whimpers one after the other as he holds onto the wall for dear life. His cock is dripping like a faucet right onto said wall and Rain can’t even feel disgusted about his tip touching the—most likely filthy—tile.
“Phantom, please, please, I–lemme,” he doesn’t really know what he’s begging for. For him to stop, to never stop, to cum, or whatever else; Phantom isn’t listening to him anyway. He thinks about unglamoring his tongue to reach even deeper, to fuck Rain up even more. Maybe with an additional spark of quintessence, to really hit him.
Phantom pulls back to look up at him, though, and Rain doesn’t seem to be needing any more messing up. He’s already absolutely blissed out.
He licks into him once again—just to indulge himself and feel the water ghoul clenching around his tongue some more, before he completely moves away. Rain lets out a little panicked noise, but Phantom isn’t gone for long.
He shoves three fingers inside him with not much preamble, more to pull yet another sinful cry out of him than to test the stretch. Phantom curls the digits and all but abuses Rain’s prostate with his fingertips for a longer moment, until the water ghoul’s looking like he’s just about to fold and melt into a puddle of goop on the floor.
The quintessence ghoul stands up, then, opens his own pants, and pulls his dick out, stroking it once or twice for good measure, before he folds himself over the other’s back to growl right into his ear, “Shouldn’t have worn these pants, you were just asking for it with ‘em.”
Phantom slams his cock into Rain’s ass balls deep right away and if he thought the water ghoul’s noises were pretty earlier, this one was just divine. 
He takes little—if any—regard to the other’s comfort or pleasure, fucking his slick hole with abandon; simply chasing his own release. He’ll make it up to him later, and he knows Rain will make him pay for this, too, but for now Phantom can only enjoy himself.
His claws are glamored, so he doesn’t draw blood, but he still grips Rain’s waist with enough force to bruise. He knows it will and he can’t wait to admire his marks later.
Rain is whining and moaning and crying against the wall as he claws at it. His cheek gets squeezed against the tile with every move of the quintessence ghoul and Rain can barely breathe. He doesn’t have enough brain left in him to drop his glamor and flare his gills back to life.
He pants with his tongue out like a dog, but Phantom’s eyes get dragged to his own, and he grins when tears start to flow down the bright red of Rain’s cheeks.
“Awww, Rainy,” he coos with faux sympathy and kindness. “Too much for your stupid brain, yeah? Don’t worry, I’ll give you something a dumb whore will understand.”
The water ghoul moans so loud it echoes through the bathroom and slams back into Phantom’s ears so hard it nearly hurts. Rain’s ass grips his cock like a vice and with one more slam of his hips the other realizes that he’s just cum all over the stall wall completely untouched.
“Slut,” Phantom grunts out once again before burying himself in him as far as he’ll go. He shoves his face into the back of the water ghoul’s neck and his glamored fangs itch to bite and suck a bruise into that fair skin. He shudders as Rain keeps wildly clenching around him and he can’t hold his orgasm back any more.
Phantom cums with a groan and Rain echoes it at the feeling of getting pumped full. He’s barely standing—held up mostly by the other ghoul, though he, too, sags as he comes down from his high.
He pulls out, breathing heavily, and bends down to pull Rain’s pants back up right away. The water ghoul can only whimper with confusion as he feels warm cum slowly leaking out of him and into his underwear. Phantom grabs him by the shoulders and turns him so they’re face to face.
“Damn, you’re a wreck,” he laughs at Rain’s fucked out state. He wipes his tears and smooths down his clothes and hair, putting him back together as best as he can.
“Phantom, the–the…can I clean up–” the water ghoul murmurs, but the other doesn’t let him finish.
“Nuh-uh. You’re carrying it back home so I can fuck you all sloppy again,” Phantom tells him and the casualty twists Rain’s insides. “Maybe I’ll invite the others, tell them exactly how our little date went because of how much of a whore you are.”
He takes off his flannel shirt—a bit sweaty now—and hands it to him by the sleeves. Rain takes it with shaky hands and looks at the other with a questioning look, unsure why he needs it.
“Around your waist. Time to cover yourself up,” Phantom explains and Rain nods with burning cheeks as he does, indeed, tie it around his waist.
After a moment of staring at him with still hungry eyes, the quintessence ghoul speaks again. “Unless you do want everyone to see your pretty ass leaking my cum through these slutty jeans.”
Rain mewls pitifully and looks at the other with a stare worth a kicked puppy. Phantom softens a bit and wraps an arm around his waist to bring him close and offer some comfort. He really was mean and rough.
“Come on, Rainy,” he whispers and kisses his cheek with gentleness he’s been lacking just moments before. “I’ll get you another otter plushie, okay? I love you.”
Rain smiles weakly as he nods. “Love you, too.”
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poprockspillage · 8 months
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IF SOMEONE ASKED ME AT THE END ID TELL THEM PUT ME BACK IN IT DARLING I WOULD DO IT AGAIN!!! IF I COULD HOLD YOU FOR A MINUTE DARLING ID GO THROUGH IT AGAIN!!!!!!
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seraphdreams · 7 months
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JJK MEN AS YOUR PERSONAL TRAINER. | TOJI FUSHIGURO, GOJO SATORU, CHOSO KAMO, SUGURU GETO.
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𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — synopsis. having private sessions with the men prove to be an experience. what type of trainer are each of them?
𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — cw. smut, edging, degradation, praise, dry humping, fellatio, switch!choso, overstimulation, emo boy!choso, cervix fucking, unprotected sex, they are all whores. mdni <3
𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — word count. 3.1k
𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — dolled up! oh em gee ?? headcanon format ? yup! i originally wrote this as a little joke since i started pilates but then my mind wandered and it wasn’t a joke anymore. other than that, ino was supposed to be on the list but he couldn’t make it :( something about being busy .. regardless, comment / reblog if u like ! it would make my day, thank u ♡
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TOJI — THE CORRUPT TRAINER.
there must’ve been a clear distinction as to why your trainer only allowed sessions from 9pm up until midnight, but your desperation when it came to relentlessly searching for a personal trainer didn’t leave enough room in your mind to think deeper about the true nature of its shadiness. all you needed was a spotter, and toji’s services claimed to provide just that.
and what happens when you combine height, a monsterous build, superhuman stamina, and a handsome face? well, you get toji fushiguro in all his abhorrent glory.
his chiseled body virtually doubled your frame with biceps the size of your head, shoulders wide enough to emphasize the narrowness of his waist, and veins crawling up his limbs even when the muscles weren’t flexed. a mean looking man with a scar over his mouth like some battered veteran. whatever he got into during the day was truly nothing you’d want to take part in.
inviting him over to your home gym was one thing, but it was looking to be another when his “help” took the form of sensuality; his large hands running along the back of your thighs when he’d seemingly fold you over with your legs on either side of your head for warm-up stretches, or even the occasional groping of your ass when it came down to squats, he was barely doing his job, what you paid a hefty price for, and yet you loved every bit of it.
“c’mon, you can take more of it, cant’cha?” toji’s gruff voice goads, watching the way your tiny cunt struggles with swallowing the head of his wrist-thick, bulbous cock. you were put in the awkward position of doggy, yet another one of his sessions derailed and he deemed this new workout could help you build up some much needed endurance. you were going to need it if you planned on keeping him around.
it surely seems that way when you’re practically running from the pleasure he pistons into you, thick cock kissing your cervix with each skillful, angled thrust of his. large hands were wrapped around your waist, keeping you in place for him — because if there was one thing your personal trainer was strict about, it was form. and your form was beyond perfect.
“‘s just too good.” you mindlessly whined, attempting your hardest to grip onto the thin cushion of the yoga mat beneath you. toji lets out a deep scoff at your vocables, driving his hips against your ass once more, this time a bit sharper with a hint of fervor as its aftertaste. “and you’ve been training with me for how long now?” his question came out in a mocking tone as his lips stretched wide in a crooked smile, that of a statement rather than a query.
“t-two weeks .. fuck.” you respond, mind going hazy from the gaining intensity of his potent movements. the feeling was all too much, it came as no surprise when pleasure began to surge from your spine to coil at your core, building up that high you've been chasing for the past hour, that grumpy ol’ toji continued to rip away from you.
pressing a heavy hand to the small of your back, he arches you forward, groaning at the sight of how swiftly you position yourself for him, your face pushed against the mat.
maybe his training has paid off. . “two weeks and you’re still struggling to take my cock?” he pulled your hips back against his, leaving you defenseless in the ministrations. “guess i need to train this pretty little hole of yours more often.”
with the end of his sentence, he snakes his thick arm around your waist, the pad of his thumb finding your achy, puffy clit, rubbing the nub in tight, harsh circles. if your moans weren’t already loud enough, you were sure the whole town could hear you by now, crying out his name like no tomorrow while your legs trembled with your impending orgasm. “‘m cumming! so hard!” you cry, drooling into the mat as he fucks you through your orgasm.
it wasn’t until soon after that he finally reached his high, sending hot and sticky ropes of cum into your womb. not once had a session with toji ended with him shooting his cum in a more responsible way, with a rubber. it was clear to you since the very first time you allowed his fantasies to come to fruition — toji didn’t believe in condoms.
your body went lax as soon as he pulled out, and he tucked his cock back into his pants, hovering over your sad frame with an amused smirk on his scarred lips.
“good session. i expect $800 wired to my account by the mornin’.”
GOJO — THE ENABLING TRAINER.
when you first showed up to the private room of your local gym in search of your assigned instructor for the night a.k.a “the strongest,” you were expecting some big burly man with a cocky attitude — someone you didn’t particularly get along with. but much to your surprise, instead, he was handsome; fluffy white strands of hair that strayed upwards and a million dollar smile with just the charisma, the charm to back it up.
gojo stood over 6 feet tall, and although he was on the lankier side, there was no denying the lean muscles that peeked through his skintight black top. he smiled, throwing a loose cloth over his broad shoulders.
“you ready to get started?”
your eyes greedily took him in, scanning over the finer details of his gorgeous build. it wasn’t until about thirty seconds of daydreaming about what he’d look like unclothed that you finally gave him a response in the form of a nod and hum.
of course satoru wasn’t an idiot, he could tell from how dazed you were during the first few minutes of instruction that you were focused on something else, not that he minds though, it’s truly an honor that a girl as pretty as you is capable of fawning over him, just as many others do.
after having to shake your thoughts whenever it came to watching him take a large swig from his water, droplets of the liquid streaming down his chin to graze his prominent adam's apple, or the soft appraises he’d coo when you finally got the hang of his workouts, it was the end of yet another vigorous session with him, sweat dripping from your chin down to your chest that was scantily clad in a baby pink sports bra. you held on taut to your water bottle as satoru carried conversation with you.
“you improved so much in just an hour. i’m proud.”
his praises barely reached your ears before you looked at him with adoration glossed over those pretty eyes — there was something about him that you just couldn’t get over, but you knew you needed him badly. you dabbed perspiration from your forehead with a matching pink towel, soft smile forming on your doll-like features.
“thank you,”
he nods his head slightly before starting, “you seemed a bit distracted today, though. something on your mind?” his query pulled you from your gojo-induced hypnosis, causing you to blink away the embarrassment pooling up within you. were you truly that obvious?
“hm? there’s nothing, i’m fine,” your reply came out low and sheepish while your eyes struggled to find anywhere else to settle besides those bright baby blues. he took it upon himself to inch closer to you, studying your features until you gasped softly once your back hit the wall. “nothing?” he asks for confirmation, and you affirm. “nothing.”
“all you gotta do is use your words if you need me.”
gojo’s hands found their way at your thighs, creeping them upwards underneath the thin spandex of your shorts. his touch felt hot against your skin, each brush of his fingertips along the expanse of your inner thigh causing shivers to trickle down your spine while he watched with mirth at your pitiful attempt to keep your whines at bay.
“i think .. i think i need you.”
with that, satoru smirked and lifted your leg up just enough so that it fell over his arm. his lips met yours with a salacious that only the whorest of whores could possess, skilled tongue angling its way inside your mouth to gently clash with yours in the sweetest harmony that had you buckling underneath the frame of his body.
it must’ve been a spur of the moment when you found yourself rutting your hips up in search for satoru’s, a pitchy moan sounded into the kiss when he matches your ministrations, grinding his sweatpant clad and half-hard, leaking length into the seat of your shorts; creating the most delicious sensation as the tip nudged against your clit.
his free hand took purchase at your cheek, his thumb rubbing ever so gently against the heated skin while his movements increased in greediness. your mind’s too hazy to make out anything besides the pleasure and build up of your orgasm — so much so, that it pulled you back to reality as soon as it hit, your sloppy kisses coating gojo’s soft lips in a thin sheen and the seat of your shorts sopping wet from the release of your high.
yet, gojo kept at it until he too came to a falter, cumming an ample amount in his sweats while groaning deep into your mouth. he separated from the kiss for just a split second before he took it upon him to goad,
“we can add 30 more minutes and i’ll give you more than just a taste.”
CHOSO — THE INTIMIDATING TRAINER.
a pierced tongue, some tattoos running along both veined arms, and a deep, monotonous voice were a recipe for your timidness when it came to the kamo, who you’d invited over for your very first home training session. it didn’t help that he was on the quieter side, responding to whatever small talk you’d make with one or two words while his intense eyes would follow every move you’d make as he’d help with your form.
he truly wasn’t a bad guy, or so you thought. even now, during your session with him, his praises were appropriate, he wasn’t too handsy nor did he seem to have any ill intent; being with him felt surprisingly comfortable and refreshing just as the crisp, cold water you two were currently drinking, made fresh from your refrigerator’s tap.
“was it too intense?” he’d asked in regard to the exercises you had just completed. intense was an understatement, you didn’t know how you could move your body in such ways that you did, which wouldn’t have been possible without his expertise. choso set the chilled glass of water down onto your coffee table, feeling coy from sitting on your couch, something he’d never done even with his regulars, and in response, you shook your head at the query, settling yourself by his side.
there was truly no denying how absolutely stunning you were, like some angelic being brought to him from the heavens up above in the form of the sweetest thing he’s ever met. he was afraid that if he blinked too hard, you’d vanish.
the more his eyes focused on your lips when you talked, how you’d massage the sore muscles of your thighs and even let out cute whines because of the fact, the more he found it harder to contain his thoughts, rapidfire in his mind. those perverted thoughts that only some horny teenager could have, not a well off adult like him.
yet, it wasn’t enough to stop him from getting hard in his sweats, a dark grey patch spreading at the crotch, what he’d hoped you’d mistake as spilt water.
“shit,” with that of a husky sigh, he ran his hand over his face, tinges of pink battering the tattooed scar across his nose and cheeks. “i’m sorry.”
oblivious to his situation, you were quick to express your inquiry. “sorry about wh- oh.” the head of his cock practically peeked through the barrier of the hem of his sweats while he made a futile effort to cover himself with one of your pillows once you had realized.
he looked cute like that, embarrassed by something so natural that it even spurred on your arousal, the thought of him getting worked up over you doing virtually nothing. “i-it’s okay.. i can help you if you want.” you offer, moving your position to sit between his thighs.
violet hued eyes widened from your newfound boldness, the clearing of his throat being the only true source of sound he could make in that moment.
“nah, nah. it’s-“ before he could inch out the words, you were drawing featherlight circles at his tip over the fabric, causing his breath to hitch and resolve to falter.
choso wasn’t someone who’d allow himself to be in such a pathetic situation, yet the thought of you carrying out his perfect porn plot fantasy was all he needed for that internal morality to fly straight out the window.
you chuckled at the way he hiked himself up when you finally took him from his bottoms and into your hot, wet mouth. just the sight of his cock disappearing past soft, glossy pink lips has his temperature rising, feeling as though he could pass out.
it’s hazy for him — your hand at the base, the rhythmic bobbing of your head slowly while gradually picking up speed. he never would’ve thought the job he took on for extra cash to fund his college textbooks would end up with someone as gorgeous as you giving him a chance. every pump of your hand around what couldn’t fit into your mouth had him groaning, bucking his hips up as gently as he could without battering the back of your throat.
though, he wouldn’t mind if he did.
staving off a gag, you ultimately increased your pace, determined to get him off while your other hand fondled his plump balls.
from the faint touches alone, he could feel his high approaching, embarrassingly quicker than usual. yet, he couldn’t help it when you started to grow sloppy, a mix of spit and precum dribbling down his shaft.
“w-wait, fuck.. ‘m gonna.”
it took no time for him to shoot his seed into your awaiting throat, his head thrown back against the headrest while he bucked his hips to jettison every last drop. you swallowed all he had to offer before pulling away, watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest.
maybe he wasn’t as intimidating after all.
GETO — THE CHARMING TRAINER.
you were his favorite. you had to be. even in the long line of women waiting to have their own turn with him, you were always a top contender. he had always made time for you, and you alone.
geto’s popularity made perfect sense in your mind. he was tall, handsome with narrow features and dragon tattoos strung along both arms, a man ahead of his time. not to mention, his docile, gentle demeanor. he was charming as all get out and you were beyond aware of your superstar status of being the only one he wanted.
“are we actually going to get some training done or is there something else you want to do?” he straps his fingerless gloves around his palm, tank top tight around his torso, carving out each and every trace of his abs while looking over you, a pleasant smile quirked at his lips.
you felt sheepish under his sharp gaze, a feeling that comes all too natural with expert trainer, suguru geto. “i’m fine with whatever you have in mind, sugu.”
if you didn’t know any better, you’d swore you saw his cheeks dust in the lightest shade of pink at the endearing nickname. you were cute, too fucking cute and perhaps, that was the reason he kept you around.
“i’m thinking we test that stamina ‘nd see if you can hold up riding me?” he hooks his finger under your chin, tilting your head up just slightly. “no help, all on your own.” in all honesty, you could definitely take up his challenge. how hard could it be to take some dick?
or so you thought.
“fuck, sugu! ‘s too much!”
you wouldn’t want to be caught dead in the miserable state that you were in but it ultimately did seem as though geto’s lessons had gotten you nowhere. the tip of his cock wasn’t even an inch past your cunt while you rested your hands on his broad shoulders, pathetically trying to take what was the easiest part.
he smirked at you, resting his hands behind his head. “i’m not helping, princess. i meant it.”
you continued to try and sink yourself down onto his unreasonably thick cock, a soft crack of a whine tumbling past parted lips when your pussy engulfed another half inch of him. “but-“
“if i have to help you, we’re not finishing until you’re a mess.” he grits, not harsh enough to come off as daunting but stern enough to warn you. yet, the warning fell to deaf ears when you began to whorishly beg pleas of “help me, sugu. help me.”
from that, he let out a low groan, his hands on your waist sinking you all the way down to the base before he gained stability, flattening his feet onto the floor and fucking his cock into your fluttering cunt.
with the way he moves, you were almost positive you had the wind knocked out of you from those first few thrusts alone. soft babbles resonated throughout the room while you clung to his body like it’d comfort you in the hell that was his potent ministrations.
you felt far more sensitive than you ever felt, white hot pleasure coiling within you in no time, your pussy tightening around his shaft in such a suffocating way, geto felt as though he couldn’t breathe either. “s-so tight, princess. i know you wanna cum, cum for me, baby.” he goads through a strained voice, his thumb now working between your folds to find purchase at your clit, rubbing the puffy nub in moderate circles.
“if you do t-that, i might—“
and before you knew it, you were gushing around his pretty cock, face twisted in the prettiest picture of pleasure. the aftershocks of your orgasm were way more intense as you were fucked to overstimulation, a sly grin on his lips.
“told you we weren’t stopping, darling.”
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oozywoozycon · 11 months
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sooooooooooo fascinated by ‘the gang breaks dee’ episode bc it says SO MUCH ab the relationships ??? ? ? ? ??????
mostly regarding dee and dennis’ relationship BUT i can’t stop thinking ab it
his desperation at her seeming to pull herself out of the pit w the rest of them bc she was always down there with them, she was always just that bit lower than him, and she always fucked it up for herself first but he could step in to make it worse if necessary but for the first time it’s not fucking working and she’s getting away and why isn’t it working why isn’t it working why isn’t it —
anyways just like obviously the whole crew is massively codependent and toxic 💕🧚✨💖 and that’s nothing new, that’s like the premise of the show
and if any of them started to seem to get their foot out the door, the rest would put their all into pulling them back in or chopping off that foot, whatever needs doing to bring them back, but this episode is so interesting bc since the other three are in on it, it’s only dennis who’s spiraling and boy he’s spiraling so bad
i NEED to see them as kids i MUST witness their elementary school dynamic (tho i must admit it has likely not evolved since grade school) it is FASCINATING
#moving on to tags now bc i’ll be forced to stop eventually this way and i’m not convinced i would be able to cease my word vomiting if left#to my own devices. but i love it i love it i love it so much#just started watching sunny today and was jumping around the episodes and seasons and happened upon this one#i saw many others i watched in total maybe ….23 episodes today? scattered thru out the seasons#this episode is the one keeping me awake tho#i just ….i love the way that anytime anything is going well for one the others will ruin it posthaste#and how that also leads into a pattern of behavior where when smths going well for one they’ll be like ‘hmmm no this isn’t right clearly#there’s a scheme afoot’ and they’ll ruin for themselves before the gang needs to run any interference at all#absolutely LOVE cycles love love love the way they never get better they’re so ill 💕#but just like dennis does NOT want dee to die at all he specifically notes her nearness to suicide or just general vegetable braining#the rest of her life and he WILL NOT have that but of course he also will absolutely not tolerate her doing ‘well’#and so he will magnanimously help her out of her slump by providing her w men (conveniently controlling who will be entering her life) but#they WILL all be ugly and honestly bad prospects but bc he is kind and loving they are not the WORST out there see isn’t he a considerate#brother WHAT DO TOY MEAN YOURE FUCKING THAT TALENT GUY#and like it’s half genuine like dee you do know that man is using you that’s pathetic and you can do better than him ew#but the other half that is much more influential is this man is an unknown entering her life and what if he DOES take her away or ruin her#further somehow thus making her a completely limp doll smth he can’t toy w or argue w#and on dee’s side she’s j at her end and is ‘this might as well happen’ and it has the benefit of getting under her twins skin like nothing#else and she also knows what he’s saying is true and that’s why she’s doing it at all bc it will end badly for her and that’s what she’s#seeking except then it maybe is going well??? and what if she is getting out truly what if —and then she’s vomiting on the plane and then#everything was a lie and she’s back to normal no longer a vegetable but not getting out#the thing is i dunno if there are any episodes that show anything vaguely similar happening to dennis— i honestly don’t think there are not#bc i know anything again i only started watching today but bc he is not interested in getting out he is quite happy as the self declared#king of his circle i mean he absolutely would go for world domination but he’s sufficiently pacified with ruining the lives of everyone he#comes across with the gang#don’t get me wrong i don’t think any of these guys could get out even if they weren’t all ready to do anything to keep everyone where they#all were bc they are awful people w no concept regarding their impact on other lives i#i am so goan#i am so gas#o am so goddamn tired bye
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rowarn · 6 months
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PLEASE, LOVE ME. PT2
simon riley / reader
FIND PART ONE || read the full thing on ao3
tags: childhood friends, friends2lovers, virgin!reader, soft!simon, protective!simon, afab!reader, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, MDNI
cw: reader is over 20, pining, masturbation (reader), loss of virginity, explicit workplace sexual harassment/assault, so much crying, one-sided love, not-really-unrequited love, vomiting, panic attacks, depression, crying, sex related shame, PTSD (reader), codependency but cute, self-deprecating thoughts, slut shaming, wet dream, dry humping, simon fucks up tho, reference to suicide & suicidal ideation, really nasty argument, reader hits simon sorry, apologizes tho!!!, reader struggles to orgasm, drinking, fooling around while drunk (no sex), breast play, fingering, orgasm denial, simon's a tease, p-in-v, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, creampie, mating press, missionary, simon's dirty mouth, dirty talk, wet&messy, big cock, uncut simon bc i said so, reassurance & encouragement, some pain upon penetration, clit spanking, post-coital crying!!!!!!, aftercare, briefly edited so apologies for any lingering mistakes
note: this is part two and contains the gratuitous smut portion ur all looking forward to &lt;3
you've loved him since you were children. after a confession when you were 14 went rejected, you vowed to never let your feelings be known again. but after an incident that left you hurt and fragile, you find it hard to keep that promise.
PART 2: 17.9k total: 35.8k
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Things seem to get much better between you. Your anger and resentment towards Simon diminishes significantly and you can finally say you feel comfortable around him again. You wouldn’t say you’ve forgotten everything that happened, you fear that the entire ordeal has left its scar on you. 
But you finally feel ready to truly begin to work on yourself and get to a better place mentally. 
You’re humming to yourself as you dust the surfaces in your living room, cringing in disgust when you see how dusty a particular shelf was. 
Just as you go to give it another swipe, your front door opens and Simon stumbles in, huffing from effort as he carries two armfuls of groceries. 
“Simon!” you cry out, watching with wide eyes from the stepstool you stood on as he ungracefully dropped them on the floor, “Why did you bring them all up here like that?”
“Didn’t wanna make another trip,” he explained lamely, flexing his hands as he looked over all the bags.
“Okay, I guess,” you chuckle softly. 
Simon finally looks up at you, “What are you doing?”
“Cleaning,” you shrug, waving the duster at him, “I haven’t felt like doing it until now so might as well get it done when I feel like it!”
He’s quiet for a moment before he steps over the bags of groceries.His boots thunk heavily on the floor as he approaches you. Suddenly, he wraps an arm around your middle. You squeak in surprise when he very carefully and gently pulls you off of the stool and places you back onto your feet. 
Then he walks away like nothing happened, snatching up a couple groceries up from the floor to take to the kitchen. 
You decide not to comment on his behavior and simply choose to grab a couple of bags and help him out. When you get inside the kitchen, he’s already stuffing things into the refrigerator. You place the bags down and go back to pick some more up, transferring all the bags of groceries near him so he can easily put them away. 
You notice one of the bags has some piping, lightbulbs, wires, and other things you can’t identify. 
“What’s all this?” you ask, holding the bag out to him when he turns to look.
He grunts, closing the fridge, “Gonna fix some shit around here.”
“Why?” you ask, scrunching your nose up as you place the bag on the counter.
“Shithole needs it,” he mumbles, moving to start opening the cabinets, “Since you refuse to let me move you out of this place, I’m gonna make sure it at least functions.”
You hum and nod your head. Simon had attempted to convince you to move out and into an apartment of his own choosing but you flat out refused. He was already paying the rent on this place, you weren’t going to let him spend more money for a different place – because you know Simon would choose somewhere that would cost a lot more than your current flat. 
But you couldn’t deny, the idea of Simon doing a little manual labor around the apartment made your heart flutter in your chest. The way he took care of you and was willing to get his hands dirty just to make sure you were comfortable. The little domestic tasks you could imagine him doing. 
It almost felt like something a husband would do. 
You felt your cheeks flush immediately at the train of thought. How embarrassing and juvenile to think something like that
“I can cook dinner!” you mumble after clearing your throat. 
Simon actually has the audacity to laugh. You frown as he shakes his head, closing the cabinet before turning to you. 
“Absolutely not,” he says.
Your jaw drops, “Why?!”
“Because,” he steps closer, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before breezing past you, “You’re a terrible cook, love.”
You open your mouth to retort but can only huff. Because he’s right. The last time you tried to make dinner for the two of you, you had confused cayenne with cinnamon and made the most diabolical stew known to man. He vowed to never let you cook anything that required more than boiling water since. 
You pout your way back to the living room, mumbling a petulant, “Fine…” as you went.
You didn’t catch the broad grin on Simon’s face as he watched you sulk away. He was just happy to see your vibrance returning before his very eyes.
True to his word, however, he began to do some random odd jobs around the apartment. He changed that damn leaky faucet in the kitchen first. He would never admit it but it was beginning to drive him completely mad. He swore he could hear it dripping into the metal sink basin in his dreams.
Then he fixed the piping in the bathroom so they would stop all that god-awful clanking that practically woke up the entire complex. But after that, he figured he might as well fix the piping under the sinks as well.
That’s when you saw him. On his back, big body sprawled out as he worked underneath the cabinet, wrench in hand and soft grunts of effort coming from him. His t-shirt rose up just a bit, exposing a small stretch of tummy and his happy trail. Every once in a while, you could see his muscles flex and it made your mouth go completely dry. 
You felt like a Victorian man seeing his first ankle on a woman. Ridiculous. 
Sure, you’d seen Simon shirtless countless times – hell, you walked in on him completely naked once or twice. But there was something particularly…delicious about him like this. Unaware, casual, just doing work. 
It made a swell of heat settle in your abdomen. You squeezed your thighs together as you watched him. His biceps flexed and bulged, making the sleeve of his t-shirt grow taut around his skin. His muscles moved underneath the tattoos inked into his skin. 
You dragged your eyes down his body, past his pecs, past the sliver of tummy. You imagined yourself crawling between those thick thighs and unbuckling his belt, tugging at the button of his jeans. You imagined getting to see his cock chub up inside his boxers before you would pull it out and wrap your lips around the leaking tip. 
Salty, you imagine. You’ve always heard that men’s cum and pre-cum would be salty. Would Simon’s taste as bad as some of your friends had told you back in highschool? You hoped not. You couldn’t imagine not enjoying every part of him – even his cum.
You wanted him to shoot in your mouth, let you taste it. You wanted to milk it out of him, give him no choice but to cum down your throat.
“Are you just going to stand there or do you need something?” his voice startled you out of your thoughts.
Wide eyed, you looked to meet his gaze but you found he wasn’t even looking at you, still staring at the piped overhead.
“Um,” you cleared your throat, floundering for an excuse as to why you were ogling him like a piece of meat, “I didn’t want to interrupt you. I-I was just wanting to make sure the shower was okay to use?”
He grunts, letting out a soft sigh  before pushing himself out from under the sink, closing the cabinet before wiping his brow with the back of his hand, “Yeah, go ahead and shower, love.”
You give him a tight-lipped smile, casting one last glance to see that his t-shirt had fallen back into place. Disappointing. 
You trudge out of the kitchen and into the bathroom. Softly, you close the door and turn on the shower. The pipes don’t clang when the water shoots through them. It brings a smile to your face.
Once you’re stripped and standing under the warm spray, you let your hands wander your body. First, you cup your breasts, watching your nipples harden under your own touch before you slide one hand between your thighs. There’s a slickness between your folds that's distinctly different from the water, it’s slippery and sticky. But it makes your touch against your clit easy. 
You bite your lips to keep quiet, scared to death that Simon could hear you from under the sound of the water. You make quick, tight little circles against your clit. The bud is hard and twitches under your fingers. It makes the breath stutter out of your chest. 
You need more room, you realize, hiking your foot up onto a shelf. It spreads you open just a little more, gives you a little more access for your fingers to play. You sigh, head tipping forward to watch as you circle your own clit. 
But the more you touch yourself, the faster that tingling, warm sensation dissipates. You huff through your clenched teeth, frustrated. 
Usually, you could at least feel the beginning of that peak forming but this time…not even close. So you shamefully close your legs and go about your shower as if nothing happened, taking care to wash the slick from between your thighs especially.
As you lay in bed that night, Simon breathing deeply beside you as he slept, you were lost in thought. 
Surely, you were in the wrong for thinking about Simon like that – for getting wet at the sight of him. And then sleeping soundly next to him as if you weren’t some kind of pervert. Maybe you should just confess and apologize to him. 
No. You quickly admonish that thought, glancing over at his prone form. You couldn’t bear to see him be disgusted by you. He’d already rejected you years ago, finalized it and put the nail in the coffin so you would never be dumb enough to do it again. 
What would he do if he found out about your…attraction to him? He practically lived with you now, after everything happened. He was in your flat more than he was on base now. It was only a matter of time before he caught you with your hands dancing in your pants. 
Your cheeks flushed at the idea. Part of you thought it hot – for him to find you needy like that, desperately playing with your clit as you try to make yourself cum. 
But on the other hand, you could see the wrinkle of disgust in his brow and sneer on his face as he walked away. That outcome was not worth it, you decided. 
With a sigh, you rolled over so your back faced Simon and closed your eyes for the night. 
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You both should have known better that the fragile peacefulness between the two of you was just that – fragile, balancing on a delicate precipice that could shatter at any moment. 
The ring of his phone was the break. 
“Answer that for me, love!” he called from the kitchen where he was busy preparing dinner. 
You leaned forward to check the number. It wasn’t in his contacts but Simon never got calls from people unless he knew them. So you slowly slid the button over and accepted the call. 
“Hello?” you mumbled into the phone.
There was a beat of silence before a woman’s voice responded in kind, “Hello?”
“Um…” you swallowed down the apprehension that settled in your chest, casting a glance towards Simon’s back as he stood over the stove, “Who may I ask is calling?”
“I’m looking for Simon,” she said, sounding much more coy than a second ago. She knew his real name and that irked you. People from work always referred to him as Ghost, only those he considered trustworthy or friends were privy to calling him Simon. 
“Um, he’s busy at the moment, can I take a message?” you ask, loud enough for Simon to hear in the kitchen if he was interested in intervening. But he didn’t move. 
“Sure!” she giggled, “Tell him that Victoria really wants to see him again and to call me so we can!”
You swallowed around the lump in your throat, “Y-Yeah, sure. I’ll let him know…”
“Thank you,” she cooed in a sultry tone, “Oh! And tell him I really had a great time last time we were together and that I’m looking forward to a repeat performance.”
“Yeah. I’ll do that,” you assured, hoping you didn’t sound as tense as you felt. 
She giggled before the call disconnected and you were left glaring at his stupid stock phone wallpaper.
“Who was it?” Simon comes to the archway of the kitchen, leaning against the wall. You can’t hear anything cooking anymore so you assume he’s finished dinner.
“Victoria,” you spit the name out like it’s poisonous, “Says she wants to see you again and she had a fantastic time with you last time.”
Simon shifts where he stands, looking down at his feet before looking back up to you, “Alright. I’ll call her back later.”
That sends knives straight through your heart. It aches so badly that you want to bite your own tongue off to make it stop. 
Jealousy, you realize. You’re fucking jealous. Some girl calls and asks for his dick and he just says okay? 
He’s not yours, you tell yourself. He can fuck whoever he wants. 
But that does nothing to quell the inferno raging inside you. 
There’s other feelings brewing inside you; rejection, fear, loss.
You feel bitter that you’re right there and he would still never choose you. He’ll always choose someone else because he doesn’t see you like that. It feels like he’s throwing it in your face, just spitting at you to show you that he doesn’t love you like you love him. He never has and he never will. You’ll never be an option to him because he doesn’t want you.
Then you’re scared he’s going to leave you. He’s going to go to this Victoria chick and leave you all alone so he can get his dick wet again. Just like last time. Maybe he’ll like it so much he wants to stay with her. Maybe he’s going to leave you behind so he can start a new, happy life without having to worry about the dead weight that’s been dragging him down since he was 8. You. His responsibility. His problem. 
You’re so scared that he’s going to be ripped from your grasp. That you’re going to lose him to someone else and it’s going to be you and your pathetic one-sided love for the rest of your life. Fuck, you’ve loved him since you were 4. You’ve loved him for so long that it makes you nauseous to think about. How many people loved one person for this long? 
Please, you wanted to cry to him, please love me. 
Please, just love me back.
“So you’re gonna go then?’ you finally find your voice, bitterness and resentment thick in your tone, “You’re gonna leave me to go to a booty call again?”
He stands up straight at that. Arms cross over his chest, he watches that way you glare at him, heated and teary-eyed. Hurt. 
He knew you still weren’t over the way he left you that time – when you needed him the most. You’d been ignoring the residual hurt that lingered, intent on pretending that everything was fine. He had been doing his best to make up for it but it always felt like one step forward and two steps back with you. 
“I’m not going anywhere,” he assures softly, “I’ll call her back to tell her that it won’t happen.”
He tries his best to remain level-headed and soft, to be reassuring like he knows you need. But your expression doesn’t change. You continue to glare at him with that furious, hurt look in your eyes. 
Suddenly, you stand. 
“I don’t believe you,” you hiss, turning your back to him, storming down the hallway. 
He almost winces when he hears how hard you slam the bedroom door. He thinks about going back there to talk to you but decides against it. You need some space to calm yourself down. 
He eats the dinner he made for both of you alone, putting your half in the fridge for later. He goes about the apartment, locking the door and turning out all the lights. Then he gets to the bedroom door and goes to turn the knob and it doesn’t budge. 
Despite himself, he laughs. He jiggles the knob, jerks the door a little harder like it’ll open with a bit of force. And it might, it’s a flimsy ass door if he’s being honest – he’s forced bigger and heavier doors open before. 
He snaps your name, humor gone from his voice. You don’t answer. 
“Open the damn door,” he snaps, trying the knob again. He gets silence in return so he slams his fist against the surface. The sound is loud enough that it makes his own ears ring, “I said open the door. I’m not playin’ this game with you, sweetheart.”
“Sleep on the couch, Simon!” he hears your wobbly voice call back. Of course you’re in there crying, he thinks.
“I’m not sleepin’ on the fuckin’ couch,” he hisses, leaning his forearm against the door, resting his head against it with a sigh, “Open the door and let’s talk.”
“Don’t wanna talk to you,” you whine, bratty as all hell. He would have laughed if he wasn’t so damn pissed, “Why don’t you go sleep with Victoria since you like her so much.”
You don’t know why you say that last part. You don’t want him to go to her, you don’t want him to go anywhere. The thought of it brings more tears to your eyes. 
Simon is silent on the other side of the door for a long while. You almost think he walked away and succumbed to the couch. You wouldn’t actually let him sleep on that awful thing, of course. You just…you don’t know what the end goal here is, if you’re honest.
“Fine,” he finally spits, “If that’s what you want, I’ll fuck off and find Victoria.”
You hear the floorboards creak under his weight as he walks away. You sit up straight in bed at that, eyes wide as you listen to him stalk through the house. You swear you hear the jingle of his keys and that’s what has you lurching out of bed in a panic.
You almost trip over the sheets as they tangle around your legs but you manage to free yourself and wrench the door open.
“Simon!” you practically shriek, rounding the corner of the hallway to find him standing with his back to you, facing the door.
He’s got his hoodie and mask on, boots firmly on his feet and keys in hand. He stands still, back straight as his shoulders rise and fall with his breathing. But he waits.
“Don’t go,” you find yourself whimpering, “‘M sorry. Come to bed, okay?”
He doesn’t move and that makes your heart pound in your chest. You know he’s pissed, can see it in the way his fists stay clenched at his sides. His fingers twitch and he makes a move for the doorknob and you surge forward, wrapping yourself around his other arm, yanking him away from the door as hard as you can. 
He lets your weight knock him off balance, lets you drag him away from the door. He lets you tug him down the hallway, sniffling and crying as you do. 
“J-Just…” you find yourself frantically tugging his mask off, tossing it away before you rip the hem of his hoodie up. He doesn’t help you or fight you as you try to take it off of him. He just stares blankly at you, like he’s assessing you. You hate it. “G-Get ready for bed, okay? Just…we can go to sleep.”
“Why do you make this so fuckin’ hard for me?” he finally breaks his silence, the question cold and calculating. Like he’s tired. Exhausted, “I keep tryin’ to make it up to you. But every time something goes wrong, you throw everything back in my face and you act like you hate me again. I can’t keep…” he trails off, shaking his head before he sits at the foot of the bed, hands clasped together and head hanging between his shoulders.
“I love you,” you blurt out, a sob breaking out of your lips as you do. Simon doesn’t move. Your hands cover your eyes, as if being blind to his reaction will make the rejection hurt less, “I love you and i-it just keeps messing me up inside. I’m sorry.”
“You love me?” he asks, still no emotion in his voice. 
When you peek at him, he’s in the same position as before, hands clasped, elbows on his knees, head bowed. You have no idea what expression he’s wearing and you’re scared to find out.
“Yes,” you hiccup, sniffling softly, “I’m sorry.”
“Why are you apologizing?” he asks softly, almost solemnly.
“I promised,” you cry, another choked sob escaping you. 
“Promised..?” he doesn’t sound cold anymore, just confused, “The fuck’re you talkin’ about?”
“W-When I was 14,” you whimper, shame filling you as you recall your now-broken promise, “I-I told you I liked you and you said you didn’t feel the same. You told me to never bring it up again and I promised I wouldn’t. B-But…” you sobbed again, stopping yourself from finishing the sentence.
“Fuckin’ hell…” he breathes, bringing his hands to his face, scrubbing them up and down vigorously in a way that looks like it hurts. Then he laughs. 
He fucking laughs. 
It’s like your worst fears come to light. He’s laughing at you, at your confession. At your feelings. A fresh wave of tears fill your eyes and fall down your cheeks. You bite your lips to keep from making your sobs audible anymore. You didn’t want him to laugh at that too. You hang your head, wringing your hands together behind your back anxiously as Simon quiets down. 
“Shit,” he breathes, getting to his feet. He stands before you, cupping your cheeks and forcing you to look at him. He frowns when he sees the utter despair on your face, the heartbreak in your eyes, “No, baby. No, no. I wasn’t laughin’ at you.”
Baby. You catch onto it. He’s never called you that before. 
You dash the spark of hope that it causes. 
He rubs his thumbs under your eyes, wiping the tears away. 
Then, he leans forward and slots his lips against yours. 
It’s like fireworks explode in your chest. Your heart races so fast that you feel lightheaded. You can’t even respond to the kiss in time before he pulls away, your mind is moving too fast for you to process any meaningful thought. But he kissed you. 
Simon kissed you.
“What?” you finally manage to whisper, looking up with wide, shocked eyes, “Why did you..?”
He looks confused for a second, still cupping your cheeks as he looks into your watery eyes, “You really have no idea?” Your brows furrow immediately and you shake your head, “How I feel about you?”
“You feel..?” you dumbly repeat. 
He smiles softly, thumb rubbing softly over your cheekbone, “You really think I don’t feel the same?”
“B-But when…when we were kids I…” you stumble over your words, the truth you’ve believed this entire time seemingly false, “You s-said you didn’t feel the same.”
“Jesus, love,” he huffs softly in disbelief, “You were fourteen. I was seventeen. You were way too fuckin’ young for me, it wouldn’t have been right.”
“B-But then…” you stutter, reaching up to wipe your cheek, “When did you..?”
He shrugs, “Not sure exactly. Suppose sometime after you turned 20 was when I realized I felt somethin’ for you.”
“So you really…” you whisper, snagging your hands into his hoodie to pull him close, “You really…I mean…”
“Love you?” he smiles softly, “Of course I do.”
You lean forward and press your lips to his. He hums, wrapping one strong arm around your middle to pull you even closer. His lips work magically over yours, taking control of the kiss with ease. You easily melt into it, following his lead. It’s not as easy as you thought it would be and you hope Simon doesn’t notice. 
But he does, of course he does. 
He pulls away and smooths the palm of his hand down your cheek before it comes to rest on your jaw. His thumb slides over your bottom lip and he hums.
“You ever kissed before?” he asks, voice calm and level with no teasing to it at all.
Still, heat explodes all over your face. Embarrassment overrides the euphoria of your requited feelings. You try to pull away but Simon’s much stronger and he won’t let go unless he wants to. 
“Hey, don’t run,” he coos softly, turning your face to look back up at him, “I was just askin’.”
“No,” you mumble, still burning with embarrassment, “I-I’ve only ever liked you so…”
“Fuckin’ hell…” he whispers, letting you step back just a bit so he can look over you, “Is that right?”
“You should know that,” you mumble, feeling small under his scrutiny, “You know everything about me.”
“Didn’t think datin’ history was somethin’ you felt like sharin’,” he shrugged off.
“Well, now you know,” you mutter, your gaze glued to the floor.
“That I do,” he hums in agreement, reaching out to brush a hand down the length of your arm. 
A soft, quietness falls over the two of you. You’re not sure what to do and it seems he’s content where he is. He’s watching you, tracking every little shift and fidget you make until he finally seems to take pity on you.
“Let’s get to bed,” he says softly, giving you a soft nudge towards the bed. 
You take the opportunity to dive into bed, yanking the blanket over you as Simon strips himself out of his boots and hoodie. You go to look away as he yanks his belt free with practiced hands but you can’t seem to. He slips the belt out of the loops and drops it on the dresser before unbuttoning his jeans and slipping them off. 
Your mouth waters at the sight of him in a tight pair of navy boxer-briefs slung low on his hips. You can make out the shape of his–
“Enjoyin’ the view?” he mumbles half-heartedly as he turns to root through the dresser to find some sweatpants. 
“Sorry…” you mutter shamefully at being caught. 
He chuckles under his breath, pulling the sweats on before he rounds to his side of the bed and drops onto the mattress, “Nothin’ to be sorry about.”
He leans over you and turns out the tableside lamp. Then he settles into his pillow with a soft sigh.
“Si..?” you whisper.
“Yeah?” you can hear the smile in his voice.
“Are we um…” you clear your throat, “I mean like…are we…together now..?”
You feel him roll over and toss his arms around you. You squeak when he tugs you towards him roughly, securing you against his chest before he kisses the top of your head.
“Do you want to be together?” he asks, muffled by his lips pressed against you. 
“Yes,” you whisper quickly, wrapping yourself around him almost possessively.
He tilts your head up and carefully slots his mouth over yours again. You sigh happily at the feeling. 
You notice that he keeps it a lot slower than he had before, moving his lips carefully against yours. Like he’s trying to make it easier for you to keep up. It makes your cheeks flush again but you sink into the pillow and let him kiss all he wants as you do your best to match his movements. 
His body shifts, torso hovering over you as he rests his weight on his elbows on either side of your head. Your hands rest against his shoulders and simply get lost in the kiss. 
After a moment, he deepens the kiss, sinking into you with his chest pressed against yours. You whimper and wrap your arms around his neck, carding your fingers through his cropped hair. 
One of his hands moves, coming to grip your waist, fingers sliding up the hem of your shirt. It’s like a dream come true. Literally. 
All those nights you spent with your hand between your thighs, thinking of him. Thinking of him touching you like this – with his hand sliding your shirt up a little further every second. You even feel that familiar wetness soaking your panties.
Then why was your heart racing from anxiety instead of excitement? Why did you feel a fearful tremble setting in your thighs, as if your knees would be knocking together if you were standing. Why were you scared?
Before you can stop yourself, you’re shoving your hands against his chest with a weak, “No!”
Simon is off of you in seconds but you can feel his gaze on you in the darkness. You struggle to catch your breath as you lay there, heart pounding in your ears. Your head hurts, you realize with a wince.
“Um…” you find yourself attempting to appease him, “I-I don’t…I’m sorry, I…”
“It’s alright,” he whispers sincerely, settling down into bed with a content hum, “Nothin’ to worry about, love.”
You scoot closer to him and hesitantly place your head on his chest. Simon’s arm wraps around your back and tucks you even more snug against him. You close your eyes and will yourself to relax and sleep as you feel Simon’s comforting hand rubbing your back. 
Neither of you talk about it in the morning. Or the day after that. Or the day after that. You don’t bring it up, even though you want to, and Simon doesn’t try touching you like that again. Part of you wants him to, you’ve been dreaming about his touch for years but once you finally get it, you freak out?
You can’t stop beating yourself up over it. 
But then you think about the anxiety that it had caused. The apprehension. How uncomfortable it felt – how you wanted his hands off of you. 
You sighed, flopping onto your side on the couch where you sat. Your mind was buzzing annoyingly from your thoughts. 
Regardless of your problems, you were happier than ever with him. He was finally yours. Wholly and truly yours. It was bliss. 
“Got a call,” Simon says, snapping you out of your daze, “Gotta leave.”
That makes you sit up, “Leave?”
You finally notice that he’s got his bag packed – the one he only takes when he’s getting deployed. You’re on your feet in seconds, following him to the door. He’s wearing his skull balaclava so all you can see are his eyes – sad, apologetic.
“H-How long?” you ask, unable to ignore the ache in your chest as you watch him.
“Few weeks, probably,” he mutters, placing the bag down so he can tuck his feet into his boots.
He straightens up with a grunt before turning to you. He sighs, gloved hands cupping your cheeks when he sees how sad you look – like a kicked puppy. You wish you could feel his bare hands on you but can’t find it in you to ask. 
“I don’t want you to go,” you find yourself mumbling.
It’s selfish and even a bit cruel of you to voice that desire. Simon’s thumb strokes your cheek in that sweet way he always does and you melt into him. He lets you thump your head against his chest as you suppress your cries, biting your lip so you can keep your tears at bay. 
“I know,” he softly whispers, stroking your back as you cling to him, “I know, but I have to.”
“I know,” you mumble, finally looking up at him. You know your eyes are glassy and you make sure to blink back the tears so they never overflow, “Just be safe and come home, okay?”
He lifts his mask up just enough to expose his lips before he leans down to kiss you. It’s a whole body experience this time. He clutches you against him like his life depends on it, gloved hands fiercely gripping the back of your t-shirt. His lips move smoothly against yours, hand coming up to cup your jaw so he can tilt your head and pull you even deeper into his kiss. He pulls away when he needs to breathe, smiling when he sees the dazed, lovesick expression on your face. He tugs his mask down and lets you go but you stay as close to him as possible. 
“Make sure you stay warm,” he coos, “Gonna start gettin’ real cold in a couple days.”
“I will, Si,” you assure him.
“Left some cash for you to do your shoppin’,” he adds, “I know you’re a shit cook but I left a list of some easy recipes. Don’t burn the flat down.”
You snort and playfully smack his shoulder, “I’ll just buy some cup noodles in that case.”
He rolls his eyes, pinching your side to make you gasp from the ticklish feeling, “Don’t even think about it.”
Your grin falters when his phone makes that obnoxious beeping noise that lets you know it’s something urgent. He sighs, the tranquil happiness between you two broken immediately. He kisses your forehead through his mask and pulls the front door open.
“Keep this locked,” he mutters, stepping past the threshold, “I’ll be home soon.”
He closes the door and you’re left with an emptiness that overcomes you. You’ve always been scared for him when he has to go off on missions – you know that his job is extremely dangerous and he could lose his life at any moment. That thought alone makes a nauseous pit settle in your stomach. You push down the feeling of bile rising in the back of your throat and click the lock on the door with a sigh before you go about your day, trying your best to keep your mind off of him and where he might be in the world. 
True to his word, however, the temperature drops bitterly cold within 2 days after he leaves. There had already been a chill in the air that drove you to turn the heating on just a bit but now it was full blast. But now, it was dipping to freezing and you were anticipating the arrival of snow soon enough as well. 
You wake up one morning, however, and your apartment is bitterly cold. You sit up, confused before climbing out of bed. Your feet are immediately freezing as you step onto the floor. You hiss, wrapping your arms around yourself as you stumble over to the radiator in your room. You touch it and find absolutely no heat emanating from it. 
All the radiators are the same. Absolutely no heat. 
You curse, realizing you have no idea what you’re supposed to do. You curl up on the couch under a heavy throw blanket as you type with bitterly cold fingers into Google, looking for anything that can help you. But it’s to no avail. You can’t understand a thing. 
Your next thought is to call the building manager but you know that’s pointless. The useless man never actually helps with any work for his tenants. 
There’s no way in hell that you can afford to call someone to come and fix the problem. You have money for groceries but if you spent that you wouldn’t have anything to eat. You sigh, resolving yourself to bundling up and trying to stay as warm as you can. 
You pile all the blankets you have into bed and pick out only your thickest, warmest sweaters. 
This is going to be miserable, you think. 
The snow comes just a short week later and it feels even colder. You venture out of your flat to go to the grocery store, picking up ingredients for the dishes Simon wrote down for you and also some cans of soup that you can cook to stay warm. You also throw some boxes of tea and some hot chocolate in with it, figuring why not. Warm drinks will help. 
It’s almost 3 weeks of living like that. It’s miserable and makes your bones ache from how stiff the cold makes you feel. You make sure to eat nice, hot food to keep yourself warm and make frequent cups of warm drinks so you can keep your hands warm for as long as you can. You do your best. 
The worst is showers, though. When you’re standing under the blisteringly hot spray, it’s bliss. But the second you step out and your wet body is hit with the freezing air, you couldn’t have felt more miserable. 
The night Simon walks through the door, he finds you bundled up on the couch sipping a cup of hot chocolate. 
“Simon!” you gasp excitedly, tossing the blankets off to take a running leap at him. 
He huffs contentedly when he catches you in his arms, letting you embrace him for as long as you need. He strips his mask off and brings you in for a delicate kiss.
“Let me wash up,” he mumbles, stalking through the apartment.
“Um, before you do, Si,” you catch him at the entrance to the hallway. He turns to you and looks at you with a brow raised, “The um…heating is broken so…just letting you know when you come out of the shower it’s gonna suck.”
“Ain’t nothin’ I haven’t dealt with before,” he mutters and pauses, “The fuck you mean it’s broken?”
“Heating cut off a few weeks ago…” you shrug, wrapping your arms around yourself as you start to feel the cold creep in again.
“A few weeks ago?” he hisses, running a stressed hand through his hair, “Fuckin’ hell. You didn’t call someone to fix it?”
You pout as he raises his voice, clearly frustrated, “I couldn’t afford it, Si! I had the money you gave me for food but I wasn’t gonna spend that to get the heating fixed. You know the building manager is a piece of shit, not like he was gonna call someone.”
He sighs, crossing his arms over his chest, seemingly thinking something over. Then he turns on his heel and storms into the bathroom, slamming the door.
“I’m sorry, Simon!” you call through the door, “I didn’t know what else to do! Please, don’t be mad.”
The shower turns on and all you can do is look up and sigh in exasperation. The second he’s home and he’s already pissed at you. 
You sulk over to the couch and flop down, tossing your blankets over you as you grab your mug. The hot chocolate is still warm but not as hot as it was. It’ll have to do.
Simon comes out of the shower, gets dressed warmly, and joins you in the living room. He doesn’t even look at you as he makes a move for his bag that he left by the door. You almost think he’s going to scoop the bag up and storm out the door. You sit up, ready to stop him but instead, he stoops down and zips it open. He pulls out his wallet and approaches you. 
“What are you doing?” you mumble, watching him flip the thing open.
It’s old and worn, a simple black leather wallet. He’s had it for as long as you could remember and you’ve put the poor thing through the washer and dryer so many times that you’re shocked it's still intact. 
He pulls out a bank card and promptly hands it to you. Your brain stutters to a stop as you look at it.
“Take it, fuck sake,” he mutters. He sounds annoyed but the way he looks away and his ears turn pink you can tell he’s…shy. 
Simon Riley is fucking shy right now.
You take the bank card out of his hand and look at it, flipping over in your hands, “Why are you giving this to me?”
“So you can use it,” he mumbles, slamming his wallet shut and tossing it onto the table, “That way, in case anything happens you can withdraw from my account for what you need. If an emergency happens and I’m not around, use it.”
“Simon…” you mumble, looking up at him, “Are you sure..?”
“Course I’m sure,” he scoffs, taking a seat beside you before softly rattling off four digits.
“Huh?” you dumbly ask.
“It’s my pin,” he responds, grabbing one of the blankets you have piled on the couch and tossing it on his lap.
“That’s my birthday…” you say softly as you repeat the numbers over and over in your head, “Your bank pin is my birthday?”
He snatches the remote up from the table and turns the TV on without another word. But you can see how pink the tips of his ears are. It makes you beam and before you know it, you’re curling snugly into his side. 
“Love you, Si,” you whisper, earning a kiss to the top of your head in response.
Simon calls the next morning to have someone come by and fix the damn heating. You listen to the man rattle off some information to Simon about what the problem was but it makes virtually no sense to you so you resolve yourself to sitting on the couch and waiting until it’s warm again. 
But even when it’s nice and toasty inside, you still plaster yourself to Simon’s side, snuggling as close to him as you possibly can.
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“I want you to meet my team,” Simon says one morning while he’s making some eggs. 
You’re standing by the toaster, waiting for it to pop up but his words make you turn to him, “You mean 141?”
“Who else?” he huffs, flipping one of the eggs. It sizzles loudly in the pan, “They wanted me to go out with them tonight. Thought you could join us.”
“Really?” you realize how incredulous you sound and then try again, “I mean really? That’s okay with you?”
He nods, plating the eggs, “I think it’s time they met you.”
“I-I’d love to,” you say, unable to hide the excitement you feel. 
You catch a slip of a smile on Simon’s face before the toast pops up and distracts you. 
You have to dig into your closet that evening, after a shower, to find something nice to wear. You figure an occasion like this calls for something a little nicer than just jeans and a t-shirt like you usually wear. But you can’t find much of anything. 
“What’re you huffin’ about in  here?” Simon asks when he walks in, towel wrapped around his waist. He’s still dripping wet from the shower and you can feel the way your mouth fills with saliva at the sight. 
“I uh…don’t know what to wear…” you respond, turning your back to him just as he slips the towel off. Your cheeks feel like they’re on fire, imagining Simon completely naked behind you.
“Wear those nice jeans you got,” he mumbles, grunting as he gets himself dressed, “And that little blue top you got.”
“The cropped one?” you ask incredulously, a brow raised as you turn to him. He’s got some jeans on now and he’s meticulously unfolding a black t-shirt so he can put it on, “I haven’t worn that in a while, how’d you even remember it?”
He shrugs, the muscles in his back rippling with his movement before he tosses the shirt over his head and pulls it down, covering his skin once again, “It’s cute. We’re just goin’ to the pub, love.”
“Okay,” you mumble, reaching into the back of your closet to pull the little shirt out, “If you’re sure this will be okay.”
“I’m sure,” he chuckles softly, grabbing his balaclava off the dresser. But he doesn’t put it on yet. Instead, he sits on the bed and watches you change.
You’re acutely aware of his eyes on you as you strip your shirt off. You keep your back to him, trying to ignore your racing heart. You don’t feel uncomfortable at all, instead you feel…excited. 
Your mind runs wild, imagining him stepping up behind you, kissing your neck and cupping your bare breasts in his big hands. They’re a little rough from his line of work and you wonder what they’d feel like against the sensitive skin of your tits, thumbing your nipples and pinching them a little meanly. 
“C-Can you hand me a bra?” you find yourself asking.
He grunts in acknowledgement and the bed creaks when his weight moves off it. He opens one of the drawers and is behind you in a second. His body heat permeates through his shirt as he presses his chest against your back. 
He slings your bra over your shoulder, holding it with one finger by the strap. You can’t help but tilt your head back to look up at him. He’s towering over you, pretty, brown eyes looking down his nose at you. 
You realize in this position, he could clearly see your breasts but he keeps his eyes on yours. You take the bra from him and he lets you, simply staring into your eyes with that stern silence he has about him.
“T-Thanks…” you find yourself whispering, mouth feeling particularly dry.
He grunts, lips quirked up just a bit before he turns his back and walks back to the bed. You let out a quiet, slow breath, willing your heart rate to go back to normal.
Simon was so exhilarating. Just being around him sets your heart racing and fingers trembling. 
You put your bra on and slip your top over your head, ignoring the sticky feeling in your panties as you do. 
“I don’t know, Si,” you mutter, turning to face him, “I-It’s a little tight on me now.”
The fabric once hugged you nicely but now it was snug. It molded around your breasts, even showing the lines of your bra. The neckline was low, giving a good show of cleavage – it didn’t help that Simon picked one of your more well padded bras. 
Simon looks up, his eyes immediately falling to your breasts. He sucks in a quick breath and looks away, licking his lips.
“Looks fine,” he mutters, standing to pull one of the drawers open again. He searches for a second, brows furrowed until he pulls out the jeans he was talking about. The ‘nice jeans’ as he called them, were just some low rise jeans you’d only worn about 4 times.
You look dumbly at them as he drops them into your hands.
“These?” you scoff, “Simon, I can’t–”
He quiets you with a kiss to your forehead, “Trust me, love.”
He steps out of the room after that, leaving you to your own devices. You’re thankful that you can change your panties without him seeing how saturated and sticky they’ve become because of him. You bury them in the laundry basket and remind yourself that you should do the laundry before he does because you’d be mortified if he found them. 
You don’t even look at yourself in the mirror, afraid you’ll feel too self-conscious if you see what you look like. But you trust Simon’s judgment on what he thinks would look good on you – and you can’t deny that dressing up how he likes feels nice. 
You step into the living room, intent on pulling your shoes on when Simon catches you with an arm around your waist. You gasp as he turns you to face him.
“You look lovely,” he whispers, smoothing his hands up your sides, thumbs slipping under the hem of your shirt to stroke your skin.
You swallow thickly as your heart starts racing in your chest again. He leans down and pecks your lips but pulls back before you have the chance to kiss back. 
“Let’s go,” is all he adds before walking away, leaving you no choice but to follow like the lovesick puppy you are. 
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Walking into the bar, your heart pounds painfully in your chest from pure anxiety. Your hand is clasped tightly in Simon’s as he easily moves through the crowd. You suppose his height makes it easy to see over people. 
“You alright?” he asks, leaning down to whisper in your ear.
“Haven’t been in a bar since I worked at…” you trail off, giving him a half-hearted shrug.
“If you wanna leave, just say the word,” he mutters, giving your hand a squeeze.
“N-No,” you shake your head, shooting him a wobbly smile,”I wanna meet your team at least.”
He smiles reassuringly and gives your hand a tug to encourage you to follow him. He leads you right to a table situated in a corner, three men laughing and drinking. 
“There he is!” the one with the mohawk cheeks, holding up his pint in celebration.
“Shut up, Soap,” Simon grumbles petulantly as he pulls out a chair for you.
Soap, you note to yourself. You know them by name but you’ve never actually seen the faces to put to them. Soap looks like you imagined, a broad grin and pretty, bright eyes – you imagined them green but they’re blue. 
“And who is this lovely companion of yours, Simon?” an older man with a hat and mutton chops asks with a kind smile, eyes on you.
Simon says your name before he sits down with a grunt beside you.
“Price,” your boyfriend supplies when you look curiously at him.
The man in question holds out a hand which you take and softly shake, “Nice to meet you.”
“Had no idea Lt. had someone waitin’ for him at home,” Soap says, a teasing lilt in his voice. 
So you’ve met Soap, Price, and that leaves; your eyes land on the quiet guy sitting back in his chair, a cool smile on his lips. He meets your gaze and his smile broadens – not teasing like Soap’s but purely kind.
“You can call me Kyle,” he gives you a polite nod.
“Gaz, then?” you question, tilting your head to the side. Kyle looks surprised, eyes flicking to Simon who shifts uncomfortably in his chair, “He’s talked about all of you before. I only know your call signs though.”
“John will do fine if you’d like,” Price says, tipping his beer back to take a chug.
“Simon calls me Johnny,” Soap adds, “You’re welcome to as well. Anyone important to the Lieutenant is important to us.”
Out of the corner of your eye you see Simon roll his eyes. It makes you smile. He leans over, nudging you with his knee, “You want anything to drink? I need one.”
“No thank you, Si,” you reply, intent on having a clear head for the night. You’ve never been much of a drinker anyway. 
When Simon’s gone from the table, you suddenly feel incredibly out of place. Price and Kyle have the decency to not stare you down but Soap seems keen on keeping his baby blue’s right on you and a goofy little smile on his face.
“Um…” you shift uncomfortably as you look back at him.
“We’ve never gotten to meet anyone from Ghost’s private life before,” Soap says, saving you from having to think of what to say, “Just shocked s’all.” 
“You’re gonna start giving the poor thing the creeps with your ugly mug,” Kyle chuckles which also makes Soap laugh.
“Sorry about that,” Soap lifts his glass and cheers to you before tipping it back. 
He grimaces slightly as it goes down before slamming his glass back on the table.
“It’s alright,” you respond, “Si’s not really the open book kind. So I understand.”
“How long have the two of you known each other?” Kyle asks.
You find yourself wondering where the hell Simon even is but answer regardless, “Since we were kids. Um, we lived next door. His mom and mine were friends, I guess.”
Soap nods his head, elbows on the table as he gives you his full attention, “You guess?”
You hum, “I’m 3 years younger than Simon. The way it was told to me by my mom is that…his mom came over and,” you couldn’t fight back the smile as you recalled the story.
“Oh this has got to be good,” Soap nudged Kyle excitedly at your grin.
“Told my mom that Simon didn’t have any friends and that he was a…soft-hearted boy and she wanted him to have some friends,” you giggle, holding a hand in front of your face to hide your laughter, “So she wanted to set up playdates with me even though I was still a baby. My mom didn’t have the heart to tell her no.”
Soap tosses his head back and laughs, “No fuckin’ way.”
“I’m shocked to say it but that actually makes him sound cute,” Kyle adds, unable to hide the laughter in his voice either.
“Don’t let him hear you say that,” Price says, but there’s a smile on his face, “Simon’ll knock you out cold on this table.”
“So you and Simon have been together since?” Kyle asks, glass cupped in both hands.
You nod, “Only time we’ve been apart is when he enlisted and had to go off for a few years to train.”
Soap opens his mouth to say something but a large figure finally drops down into the seat next to you. Simon has a glass of bourbon and a glass that he slides over to Soap who catches it with ease.
“Thanks, Lt,” he nods, taking a sip before making that disgusted face again.
“What are you lot talkin’ about?” Simon asks, drumming his fingers against his glass.
“We were discussin’ all your dirty secrets,” Kyle teases with a charming grin.
“Nothin’ too damning I hope,” Simon huffs before he takes a large gulp of his drink. 
The other three men all hide their grins behind their glasses. 
The anxiety you had felt at the beginning of the night is long gone. The task force is full of jokes and laughs and even Simon seems like a different person. 
With you, he’s kind and even soft. He’s by no means gentle or patient. 
But this side of Simon is so jovial and comfortable that it warms your heart to see. He drinks a few glasses and by the end of the night, he’s got a relaxed, lidded look in his eyes that lets you know he’s got a bit of a buzz going on. 
“It was lovely to meet you,” Price says when you all walk out of the bar.
“I really enjoyed meeting all of you as well,” you smile, letting Simon tuck you into his side with an arm wrapped around your waist.
“Get him home safe,” Soap teases, your smile only widening when you hear Simon huff in annoyance. 
You bid goodbye to the three of them and make your way to the car with Simon, plucking his keys out of his hand and forcing him into the passenger seat despite his grumbled protests of how ‘he’s not that drunk’.
When the two of you finally get into your apartment, you let him lock up and turn out the lights while you go to the bedroom and get ready for bed. 
“You looked really nice tonight,” Simon mutters when he finally walks in as you crawl into bed, “I’m glad you liked them.”
“I’m glad they liked me,” you huff, leaning back into the pillows, “They were all really nice guys.”
“Yeah,” Simon hums, tugging his shirt off of his head, taking his mask with it, “They’re good people.”
You nod your head and tuck your knees to your chest while he gets undressed. He slips on a plaid pair of pajama pants and shoves the drawer closed with his hip before yanking the blanket back to make room for his large body. 
You bounce a little on the bed when he drops his weight onto it. He smacks his pillow a couple times before he lays back and sighs. It’s clear he’s still a little buzzed from the way he fights to keep his eyes open.
“Simon?” you ask, turning to face him. 
That makes his eyes open back up before he looks at you, “What?”
“Can I kiss you?” you ask. 
He snorts and it makes you smile. He reaches out and wraps his hand around the back of your head. You let him tug you down, pressing your hands against his firm chest as you kiss him. 
His hand travels down your back as he sighs into your mouth. You pull away briefly to look into his eyes before you kiss him again, this time deepening it as much as you’re able. Simon sighs contentedly, his other hand coming up to caress your arm. 
“I like kissin’ you…” you find yourself whispering against his lips.
He groans at that, the sound going straight to your core. You feel yourself clench around nothing, already starting to leak into your panties. 
“Yeah?” he coos, cupping your cheek, thumbing over your lips, “You can kiss me all you want, love.”
You whimper, surging down to kiss him again. His hands grip your waist, intermittently squeezing you, like he doesn’t know what to do with his hands. 
Suddenly, you feel the warm, slick slide of his tongue against your lips. You whimper and pull back, brows furrowed.
“Shh, love,” he coos, pulling you close again, “Jus’ relax and let me…”
You huff, struggling to catch your breath as he urges you to meet his lips again. You feel his tongue again and eagerly open your mouth, letting him taste the inside of your mouth. You shyly meet his tongue with yours and feel his grip on your waist tighten as he groans in his throat. 
You’re sure you’ve soaked well through your panties by now. There’s an ache in your clit that you long to reach down and relieve – or better yet, have Simon relieve. 
You bet his fingers would feel so damn good against you. You find yourself whimpering into the kiss at the thought alone. Simon lets out a husky laugh into your mouth before pulling away. 
A string of spit connects your lips before it breaks and vanishes. 
With a surge of confidence, you toss your leg over his waist. He grunts when your weight settles on his hips, on his cock. It’s chubbed up against his thigh from kissing you and he knows you can feel it. 
“What’re you doin’, baby?” he huffs, unable to stop his hands from traveling up the front of your body. 
You grab his wrist and boldly slide it under the hem of your shirt. He bites his lip to keep from moaning when he feels your bare breast fill his palm. You see the way his eyes start to roll back before he looks at you again. It makes you throb in your panties and you can’t resist grinding against him a little before he grabs your waist and stops you.
“Si…” you whimper, pressing your hands against his chest, “‘S wrong?”
“Can’t,” he clears his throat and sinks into the bed, “Can’t do this, love.”
“Why not?” you ask, feeling a pit of disappointment in your gut, “You don’t want to? I just thought…”
You feel your face burn with humiliation as you slide off of his lap. Simon lets you, simply laying there on his back, eyes closed and a knit between his brows, as he evens his breathing out. You fight back tears as you sit there, biting the inside of your lip anxiously. 
“Not…not tonight, sweetheart,” he finally says, reaching over to pet your hair, “Been drinkin’ ‘nd I want to be sober for it, yeah?”
It would have been a solid excuse if it didn’t sound so flimsy coming from his lips. Like he doesn’t even believe it himself. 
“Yeah…” you offer, giving him a wobbly smile before turning out the light. 
You’re too embarrassed to cuddle into him that night. 
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“Can I ask you something?” you find yourself muttering as you relax on the couch with him, watching some old movie he picked out, “As long as you promise not to get mad.”
He snorts, taking a sip of his tea, “Won’t get mad.”
“I just want to know…” you clear your throat and sit up straight a little more, going over the question in your head, “Why did you leave that night…leave like that, just to have sex?”
He tenses up immediately, you can feel it. He shifts where he sits, spreading his legs just a little wider so he can sink deeper into the couch, “We already talked about this.”
You wince at his clipped tone, knowing you’re stepping into dangerous territory, “I know but…I want to know the real reason.”
He catches his bottom lip between his teeth and sighs, keeping his eyes trained on the TV, “You think I was lyin’ to you?”
Now he sounds mad. You quickly shake your head, “No, Si. I-I’m not trying to start a fight, I swear. I don’t think you were lying. I just think you…weren’t telling me everything.”
He sighs. You can see the way his jaw ticks when he clenches it, “Is that right?”
“Yeah,” you breathe, scooting a little closer to him, placing your hands on his chest, smoothing his shirt down a bit, “It was just…out of character for you, Si. I was really upset and you knew that. It wasn’t like you to just…leave. Just to get laid.”
He finally looks at you, just out of the corner of his eye. You meet the look, offering him an encouraging smile to show that you’re not upset or anything. 
“All night,” he finally mutters, “You’d been kickin’ in your sleep. Kept wakin’ me up.”
You nodded, a look of confusion on your face. You had no idea where this was going.
“You started sayin’ my name,'' he continued, “Moanin’ my name. Fuck, it was drivin’ me crazy.”
Your face flushes hot when you hear that. It all suddenly comes rushing back to you – what you’d been dreaming about. 
“You threw your leg over mine and I could–” he cuts himself off, his throat moving with how hard he swallows.
“Could what?” your voice comes out shockingly breathy. 
He catches it, looking at you. You can see the way his pupils widen immediately when he meets your gaze. It’s like he can see right through you, see the fact you’re dripping into your panties again. Just from this conversation alone. 
“I could feel how fuckin’ wet you were,” he brings a shaky hand up and runs it through his hair before he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, “Couldn’t fuckin’ deal with it. I had to…let it out somehow.”
“So you knew that I wanted you…like that?” you find yourself asking.
He scoffs and shakes his head, “Didn’t think about it like that. Figured it was just a dream and that’s all it was.”
“Wasn’t just a dream,” you assure, scooting closer to him.
Simon’s breath catches in his throat when you lean over him, resting your hand on the arm rest on his other side, letting it support your weight. You stand on your knees, making you just a little taller than him before you lean down and kiss him. 
He remains completely still, like he’s processing. His hands flounder in the air for a second before he’s carefully pushing you to sit back down. You slump against your heels and look at him, perturbed.
“Why..?”
“I need to make dinner,” he says lamely. 
“Simon…” you admonish, knowing he’s lying. 
He gets up, knees cracking as he does. He winces a little bit before he bends down to pick up the blanket that fell to the floor when he stood. You kept your eyes on him, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth. You almost let him go but before you can stop him, you grab his arm. 
“I don’t know what I’m doing, Simon,” you mutter, “I keep trying to make things go further with you but I just keep making a fool of myself and I–”
“‘S not you,” he assures softly, taking your hand in his, “‘S all me, baby.”
“So why…” you frown, “I want you.”
He shakes his head, “Night you told me how you felt. You sounded scared.” 
You remember, the way his touch had made anxiety fill you. You had wanted him, of course, but for some reason it had just been so damn awful at the same time. You hadn’t really dwelled on why that was. 
“It wasn’t ‘cause of you, Si,” you assured, shifting so your feet were on the floor rather than under you, “I promise. I-I was just nervous, I think. That’s all.”
“I don’t want…” he licks his lips, seemingly thinking over his next words carefully before he says them slowly, “I don’t to hear you sound like that with me again. ‘S why I’ve been avoidin’ it. ‘Cause I don’t want you to get scared again.”
You shake your head, rising to your feet, stepping in front of him. You take his hands in yours and squeeze them, “I don’t want to make a fool of myself with you, Simon.”
He frowns, “You know I would never think poorly of you.”
You smile and shrug, “I know that. I think…that time was just…too soon. After that night at the bar and everything that happened. And then the fact I’m so inexperienced that it’s laughable. I think…I just wasn’t ready for it. I needed to go at my own pace and I have been.”
“I don’t want you to push yourself,” he hums, “I know that night at the bar was terrifying,” he brings a hand up to brush over your cheek, “I understand if you’re not goin’ to be ready for a long time. It’s normal to not be ready after what happened to you.”
You huff, “I’ve been trying to show you that I’ve been ready for a while now, Si. I was anxious at first, yes. But now it’s…like a good kind of nervous.”
“A good kind of nervous?” he mutters, hands moving to your hips to pull you closer. Your breath hitches in your throat and you nod dumbly, “Tell me all about it.”
“L-Like my heart races,” you breathe, “And I feel scared that I’m gonna do something silly and embarrassing but like I want to learn and…and I want to do good for you.”
“Fuck,” Simon groans, dropping his head to rest on your shoulder, “Can’t say shit like that to a man like me, love.”
“Why not?” you whimper, feeling your knees tremble in excitement when you feel his hands start to wander.
“‘Cause…” he whispers, running his hands up your sides, “Makes me think some nasty shit, sweetheart.”
You swallow thickly at the promise in his voice, “Simon…” 
You sound so wrecked already and it makes him moan softly in your ear, “Tell me about it, baby.”
Just like that, you’re spilling your guts to him, “Get so wet for you, Si, all the time. I want you so bad that it hurts.”
“Yeah?” he breathes, finally pulling his head from where he was hiding in your shoulder, tilting your chin up, “Where’s it hurt, baby? Hm? Right in that needy little cunt?”
You whimper immediately, looking up at him with wide, hazy eyes and nod, “T-Tried to touch myself. Thinkin’ about you made it hurt so I couldn’t help myself. Thought about you when I did.”
He hums as you babble to him but his mind latches onto one particular word, “Tried, baby? What do you mean "tried?”
Your cheeks burn hot at the slip up. Would he think you were silly for it?
“C-Can’t do it right,” you confess softly, hoping he doesn’t see how embarrassed you are, “Try so hard but n-nothin’ ever happens.”
Simon moans at that. Loud and unbridled, “What’re you sayin’, baby? That you can’t make yourself cum, s’that it?” You shake your head bashfully, “Fuckin’ hell. That’s adorable.”
“D-Don’t tease me, Si,” you whimper but the seat of your panties is so fucking wet that it’s sticking to you. 
He hums, a predatory smile spreads across his face, “Am I bein’ mean, love?” You nod your head, tearfully staring up at him. It only makes his smile widen, canines popping out, “‘M sorry. Can’t help myself when you tell me ‘bout how you touch your pretty little pussy and just can’t make yourself cum like you need. Think I can do it for you, hm? Want me to try and make you cum?”
You vigorously nod your head, uncaring how fucking needy you look to him. He’s offering to give you what you’ve wanted for years – to give you a real, honest to God orgasm. And you weren’t going to let this chance slip away. 
“Want you on the bed,” he suddenly whispers, “On your back, lose the pants but keep everything else on.”
With a jerk of his head in the direction of the bedroom, you take off. You hear him chuckle behind you at your excitement. He makes sure the door is locked before he heads back to the bedroom. 
You’re there just like he asked, pants pooled on the floor, leaving you in nothing but an old t-shirt of his and a pair of the cutest little lilac colored panties he’s seen. You’ve got your knees pinned together, clenching your thighs but laying perfectly still in waiting for him. 
“So fuckin’ good for me,” he praises, grinning when you whimper and tremble at his words, “Oh, sweet thing likes to be praised, huh?”
You nod your head, “Wanna be good for you, Si.”
“That’s sweet, baby,” he coos, reaching to the back of his collar so he can tug his shirt off of his head. 
Your heart hammers away in your chest when he crawls onto the bed, hands on either side of your head. He looks so big like this, on top of you, completely blocking any view you had of your ceiling and instead filling your viewline with just him. He leans down and kisses you, humming contentedly when you eagerly kiss back. Your hands find purchase on his shoulders as he uses one hand to tug your legs open so he can slot himself between them. 
You cry out when he presses himself against your core. He’s wearing nothing but his jeans but you can feel the heat radiating through the thick material. 
“Shit, look at that,” he whispers, leaning back on his heels to admire the nice little wet patch that has stained your panties, “You already this wet, baby?”
“Kissin’ you always makes me this wet, Si,” you sweetly confess and oh, you are just so precious. 
His hands slide up your stomach, moving your t-shirt up and up until it sits crumpled under your chin. Your tits are bare and move with every gasping breath that you take. 
Simon’s hands are just as rough and warm as you’d expect them to be. His thumbs come up and glide over your nipples until they harden into stiff little peaks for him. 
Then his mouth is wrapping around one, swirling his tongue around it before pulling off with a lewd pop. His hand pinches the other nipple, rolling it between his fingers as he listens to you whimper and sigh. 
“Please, Si,” you whine, “I-It hurts, please.”
“It hurts?” he hums, leaving a fleeting kiss against the nipple his tongue was torturing just a moment ago, “Where? Hm?”
His hand travels down your body, cupping your cunt through your panties. You gasp, arching your hips just a bit to grind against his palm. He lets you, before he meanly pins your hips down with his other hand. 
“Where, love?” he smooths the pad of his thumb over the seam of your cunt through your panties. The fabric is saturated with your slick, letting him see every part of you through shape alone. His thumb finds your clit, the little bud poking out through the fabric from how hard and swollen it's become, “Here? ‘S it your pretty clit that hurts, love?”
You nod, eyes rolling back in your head when he presses his thumb against the bud, trapping it under his finger so he can roll mean little circles over it. You’d be mindlessly rutting your hips by now if he didn’t have his other arm slung over your hips to keep you pinned nice and still like he wants. 
It already feels so different than when you touched yourself. Maybe because it’s him or maybe because he’s so experienced. 
That thought makes you equal parts jealous and equal parts turned on. He’d slept with plenty of people but now he was using that expertise to make you feel good. 
“Can you take them off, please?” you whine, pitchy and sweet from arousal. 
“Asked so sweetly for me,” he coos, hitching his thumbs into the band of your panties before giving them a firm tug. 
You quickly lift your hips, letting him tug them down and off of your feet. You expect him to toss them away but instead he holds them up, thumbing over the slickness in the crotch. You watch him with wide eyes as he analyzes it. Your  breath hitches when he suddenly brings them towards his face and licks a wide stripe of the fabric, moaning when he gets a good laste of your syrupy sweet slick.
“Simon!” you gasp – admonish, leaning up to snatch them out of his grasp. 
His eyes open, he hadn’t even realized he’d closed them, to look at you. He licks his lips like a dog licking its chops when it tastes something real delicious. 
He doesn’t even comment on what he just did or the pure embarrassment that is written all over your face. Instead, he grips underneath your knees and yanks you down the bed towards him so your hips are situated in his lap. 
“Jus’ let me touch you, love,” he whispers, “I’ll work a nice little orgasm out of you in no time, yeah?”
You nod your head because you trust him. You know he’s going to be able to give you what you need so badly. You don’t even question it – especially when you feel how good it feels when he uses his thumbs to spread your folds open for him. He groans when he sees the sticky strings of slick that display just how turned on you are. 
Pretty little hole clenching sporadically around nothing, dribbling more creamy arousal that makes his tongue feel like lead in his mouth. A pretty clit that twitches and throbs under his scrutinizing gaze. But you make no move to cover yourself and hide from his gaze. 
He finally touches the bud directly and it’s like electricity strikes through you. You lose control of your body as your back arches and your thighs violently twitch. Your cheeks burn when you hear him chuckle softly at your reaction.
“Sensitive,” he huffs, a crooked little grin on his face as he brushes his thumb over your clit again, garnering the same reaction as before from you, “Fuck, can’t believe you’re this sensitive and can’t make yourself cum.”
“‘S cause it’s you, Si,” you sweetly confess.
And it’s true. Having him touch you like this directly – feeling his callused skin over the most sensitive little part of you is euphoric. It doesn’t feel anything like when you touch yourself at all. It feels magnified, you feel like a live wire and everything feels like too much. But you don’t do anything to impede him because you trust him more than anything – especially like this, with your body. 
He replaced his thumb with his middle finger, prodding at your entrance. You almost think he’s going to press inside you but he doesn’t – instead, he gathers your slick up on his finger and drags it up to your clit. He softly circles the bud, cock kicking against his thigh when you sigh and croon so sweetly for him. 
Your cunt makes sticky noises as he continues doing this, gathering your arousal and lathering your precious bud up with it so he can so softly play with it. His touches aren’t enough to actually work you to the edge, it’s much too slow and soft but it feels good. He waits for you to relax against the bed, lashes fluttering as you whimper and twitch on the bed for him.
“There you go, sweetheart,” he whispers, leaning forward to press a kiss against your trembling thigh, “Relax f’me. Want you nice and soft for me so I can get my fingers in this tight little cunt.”
You gasp at that, partly in excitement and also in apprehension. You’ve never actually put anything inside yourself before – except once, you put your finger in and it burned so you never tried it again. 
“D-Dont…” you find yourself muttering, making him freeze. He thinks you’ve changed your mind, anxiety getting the better of you and he’s fully prepared to propel himself away from you at a moment's notice, “Be gentle, okay?”
His gaze softens when he looks at you, “Won’t hurt you, love. I promise.”
You remain relaxed for him when he carefully prods you with his middle finger. He keeps his thumb pressed against your clit, not rubbing it or anything, just keeping a nice pressure that keeps you sagged against the pillows. 
It doesn’t feel anything like when you tried that one time with yourself. Everything is so much wetter and more pliant. It’s like your walls just suck the digit in, even though it’s so much bigger than your own finger. 
You sigh softly when you finally have something to clench around. Simon gives you a sweet kiss to the spot right underneath your belly button in silent praise. He keeps his lidded, brown eyes on your face, watching every little expression you make with rapt attention. 
He slowly and carefully fucks his middle finger into you, feeling the way you slowly relax around him, soaking his skin with your arousal. He smooths his free hand up the length of your body, abandoning your clit to wrap his palm around your breast. You place your own hand over his, encouraging him to squeeze harder. 
“How’s that feel, love?” he asks, still sliding his finger in and out of you.
“Okay…” you reply, keeping your hand over his on your chest, “But it…um…”
“What?” he urges, “Tell me what you feel.”
“I-It feels nice but…” you trail off and he hums, nodding his head.
“Doesn’t feel good?” he finishes for you. You nod your head and he laughs softly, “I know, baby. Jus’ tryin’ to get you used to the feeling and then I’ll make it feel real good, alright?”
“Okay,” you whisper but he can tell you’re not too convinced that it’s going to feel much better.
You’re worried that the same thing is going to happen – it’ll feel really good and then you’re never going to be able to climb over that wall. You hate to imagine disappointing him, failing to get off. You’d hate for him to put all this work in and you just can’t cum in the end. 
“Hey,” he coos, “Get out of your head, pretty. Don’t worry about a thing, alright?”
You take a deep breath and slowly let it out, allowing yourself to relax against the bed again. Simon waits for you to be nice and pliant around his finger before he starts to fit his ring finger alongside it. He catches sight of the furrow in your brow when he stretches you around two of his fingers. It burns but when Simon brings his thumb back to your clit, tapping against the bud, it vanishes. Your thighs twitch and you whimper, walls clenching in time with the little taps until the burning vanishes completely.
“There we are,” he praises, “Knew you could do it, sweetheart.”
“A-Are you gonna add another?” you find yourself asking.
“Later,” he responds, scissoring the two fingers he has snug inside your cunt, “‘M a big man, love. Gonna need you nice and stretched for me.”
You whimper at that, walls clenching around his fingers as he slowly begins to fuck them in and out of you. Your cheeks burn when you hear the loud, squishing noises your hole makes every time he stuffs them back inside. 
After a moment of just getting you used to being stretched on two of his thick digits, he suddenly crooks them up and hits something inside you that makes your back arch. It causes a tingling feeling that you’ve never experienced to heat your tummy every time he touches it.
“Simon!” you squeal, trying to clench your thighs closed but his broad shoulders keep them open, “Th-That feels-!”
“I know, baby,” he coos cockily, grinding his fingertips against that little spot that makes you so gooey and creamy around his fingers, “Feels real good right there, I know.”
Your back arches and your jaw drops. You can’t do anything but moan and cry out as he fucks against that spot. He’s urged on by your sounds of pure pleasure, eyes flicking between where he’s got your pretty cunt spread open and the euphoric expressions you can’t do anything to hide.
It’s so precious, seeing you so open and loud for him. You don’t do anything to hide your sounds of pleasure nor do you even think of faking any of them for his sake. Every little thing you’re feeling, you express, and you can’t help yourself because it’s all so new and so much.
That hot, tingling feeling in your core only intensifies with every experienced stroke of his fingers. Your eyes are rolling back every time he touches that magnificent spot inside you, abusing it with his fingers until your walls are soft and malleable for him again.
And then he brings his index finger into it. He’s even more slow and careful as he fits it in beside the other two fingers. It doesn’t burn like when he had given you his second finger but it’s a certain stretch that simply feels strange. 
He gets you stuffed open on his three fingers, up to the third knuckle. You’re spread so wide and squeeze his fingers so tight that it makes him moan when he thinks about what it will feel like around his cock. 
If you’re this tight around just his fingers then you’re going to feel positively euphoric around him. 
“Simon…” you coo, reaching down to card your fingers through his hair. 
He grunts in acknowledgement, but is unwilling to part his gaze from the sight of the creamy mess you’ve begun to leave on his fingers. Your pretty clit is twitching and so swollen, glistening from your juices and he suddenly has the inescapable desire to wrap his mouth around it. 
You’re not even looking when he decides to do it. It’s like he can’t stop himself. 
All you feel is something wet and hot wrap around the little bud. You practically wail at the feeling of his tongue sliding against it. Your feet kick aimlessly, hitting his back and shoulders as you flail beneath his body. 
You sob his name, yanking harshly on his hair in a way that hurts but he’s not going to stop you. He knows it’s mean to do this, not even warning you or easing you into the feeling before he’s suckling your clit. His tongue slips in circles around it, flicking it with the tip of his tongue. His ears practically ring from how loud you’re crying out for him. 
His three fingers remain buried inside you but he’s hardly able to move them from how tight you’re squeezing them. All he can do is grind his fingers against your g-spot but it only makes your pretty body more twitchy and makes you squirm even more beneath him. He has to hold you down so you can’t get away. 
He doesn’t want your precious pussy to be ripped away from him, your juices are making his taste buds tingle – you taste so damn good. 
That familiar heat begins to grow in your core – one you’ve experienced many times before by yourself. You cry and wail for him, sobbing his name and gripping his hair. 
“S-Si, don’t stop, please, please, please–” you choke on your own cries, slamming your head into the pillows as your back arches painfully hard. 
He grunts lowly, blonde lashes fluttering as he watches your body’s pure, unfiltered reactions to this pleasure. He knows you’re getting close, can feel you clenching around him and your clit pulsing on his tongue in time with your heartbeat. 
You feel yourself reaching that wall, the one you can never overcome. But it feels different this time, the pleasure isn’t slowing. It’s not fading like it always does when you’ve got your own fingers on your bud. 
It always seems to slip out of your grasp by this point.
This is it, you think. You’re going to cum. You’re finally going to fucking cum. 
Then everything stops.
His tongue is gone from your clit and his fingers are nowhere to be found. Simon’s shoulders rise and fall as he watches your face flicker through a range of emotions before your eyes fill with tears and you look at him – utterly pitiful and hopeless.
“Wh-Why…” you finally whisper, tongue feeling heavy in your mouth. 
Your cunt pulses and throbs around nothing, the heat of your orgasm quickly dissipating, leaving that horribly empty and unsatisfying feeling in its wake. 
“Sorry, baby,” he coos, genuine and soft as he leans up to kiss your face, “That was mean, huh? ‘M sorry. Jus’ want you to have your first orgasm on a cock, love.”
That doesn’t do anything to quell your disappointment but you nod anyway, wiping away some stray tears that trickle from your eyes. 
“Please,” you breathlessly whisper, “Please, Simon. Want your cock, please. I-I was so close. It felt so good,” you start babbling, eyes falling to the hard outline of his cock in his jeans, “I wanna cum so bad, Si. Y-You promised. Please, just give me your cock. Please? Please? Simon!”
Simon’s mouth goes dry as he hears your babbled begging. Fuck, you’re absolutely aching for it. All you can think about is cumming. He never thought he’d get to hear you beg for him like this, so pathetically. You should be embarrassed, begging for cock like this when you’ve only just now gotten your first taste of being stretched open. Yet here you are fuckin’ crying for it.
His cock drools pre down his thigh, he can feel how wet his boxers have become from how much he’s leaking it. He’s aching in his jeans – he can’t pretend he doesn’t want it just as badly as you do.
“Shit, alright!” he snarls, wrapping a hand around your throat to force you to look at him. You gasp at the rough treatment, “Jus’ shut up and I’ll give it to you, yeah?”
You obediently nod your head, still staring up at him with those wide, teary eyes. He tries to act like his hands aren’t fucking trembling when he yanks his belt off. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this needy – this excited to get his cock inside a pussy. 
But it’s you. You’re special. 
He loves you. This isn’t like the one night stands and hookups he’s had in the past. This is different. 
He feels like a fumbling teenager the way he clumsily yanks his belt out of the loops and shoves his jeans down his thighs along with his underwear. His cock, big and heavy, hangs under its own weight – it never slaps up against his stomach. He wasn’t just chatting shit when he said he was a big guy. 
He wrapped his hand around himself, giving it a few, firm tugs. He feels your eyes on him, watching the way he touches himself and it sends heat through him. He scoots closer to you again, pulling back his foreskin to show the fat, leaky head that he meanly taps against your clit. 
You gasp a cute little ‘ah!’ when he does that brings a smile to his face. He can’t say he’s the best lay for a virgin because he’s so big and he’s a brute – it’s in his nature. But he’s trying his best for you. 
“Alright, baby,” he coos, leaning on one forearm above your head, draping his big body over yours. He easily manhandles you into position, caging your knees against your chest and wrapping himself around you, “Just relax for me, hm? Can you do that f’me?”
You nod your head and shakily put your hands on his shoulders, cupping his jaw to bring him down to kiss you. He sighs into your lips, using his free hang to grip the base of his cock, prodding against your hole. You’re so slippery that it slides out of you and slips up your clit. You whimper at the feeling, thighs twitching at the stimulation. 
When he finally starts to press inside, your nails bite into his shoulders. It stings – it hurts. He’s so big, making your poor little cunt burn the deeper he presses himself. The head pops in and your hips jump at the feeling, his cock slipping back out. 
He huffs, dropping his forehead against your shoulder, “Fuck, sit still.”
“S-Sorry!” you whimper, “I’m sorry!”
“Shh,” he sighs, kissing your cheek, “‘S okay, baby. Hurts, huh?”
“A little,” you whimper, trying to downplay it so he won’t stop.
He hums and presses a kiss against the corner of your mouth. He knows that working an orgasm out of you before making you take his cock would be the nice thing to do but he’s selfish. He wants to feel your orgasm around his cock – where you deserve to have it. 
It’s your very first orgasm after all. It needs to be good and he knows he can make it real good once he can get you speared on his cock. 
So he grips himself again, sitting up for just a moment to lewdly spit on your pussy. It hits your clit and trickles down where he catches it with the head of his cock. He leans over your body and starts to push in again. This time he tucks his arms under your shoulders and pins you impossibly against him, leaving you with nowhere to run when he starts to press into you. 
You whimper, feet kicking against his back when he pushes deeper than before – past the head. He knows it hurts, you’re stretched beyond your limit and he waits with bated breath for you to say the word and tell him to stop. 
But you don’t. 
You just grapple your arms around his waist and dig your nails in. His skin is sweaty by now and it makes getting any purchase on him difficult. You let out a watery little whimper that has him freezing. You’re speared on half his cock when he finally looks at you. 
Your eyes are teary and they slowly drip down your cheeks.
“Do you want to stop?” he asks, brushing some away with his thumb.
You immediately shake your head, no hesitation, “No! K-Keep goin’, Si.”
“Don’t cry, pretty,” he shushes, keeping his grip under your shoulders and his hips pinned firmly against yours so you can’t squirm when he starts pressing in again. Your mouth opens in a silent gasp, eyes fluttering from the ache that settles where he’s stretching you wide, “‘S okay, just take a deep breath. ‘M almost in, love, you’re doin’ so fuckin’ good for me. Takin’ all of my cock so deep, just like you deserve. Hear me? This cock s’all yours now, yeah? Can have it whenever you need it.”
Your walls spasm around his cock as he talks, making him groan low in his chest. He’s almost there, can feel his balls starting to tap against you the deeper he gets until finally, his hips meet yours and you wail. 
He prods painfully against your cervix and he knows that it’s uncomfortable but he’s not willing to pull back just yet. He needs you to get used to being stretched and stuffed full of every inch of him. He takes care to do slow, gentle grinds, his pelvis catching your clit that eventually makes you relax. 
“That’s it,” he praises, “Just relax and let me make you feel good.”
He finally eases off of you, balancing his weight on his forearms on either side of your head, hovering over you. He slowly pulls his hips back, watching you slump against the bed when he finally stops pressing on your cervix. 
He finally starts fucking you, sliding his cock out just a bit before rolling his hips forward again. It's slow and soft, just testing the waters and getting you used to this new stimulation. 
It feels entirely different from his fingers. His cock is bigger, fills you so much more, touches deeper. 
His cock reaches spots deep inside you that his fingers didn’t even reach. But he’s permanently pressing against that spot his fingers were torturing. It feels so fucking good. 
Simon can see the way your eyes roll back as he carefully fucks you. Your first cock and you’re taking it so damn well. It makes him want to see how much more you can take but he knows he needs to ease you into it, he doesn't want to overwhelm you.
“Si…” you sigh softly, blinking as you struggle not to float off and become drunk with pleasure. 
“I know, pretty,” he coos, kissing your cheek before leaning back on his heels, fastening the thrusts of his hips. 
You can’t keep quiet now, mouth falling open to let out the most precious sounds of pure pleasure. You’re staring at him with wide eyes, like he’s hung the moon and stars in the sky just for you. His cock fucking throbs at the look of wonder that crosses your face. He knows you’re getting close, can feel how tight you’re clamping around him and he can see how much you’re creaming around him – making a mess at the base of his cock and in the thatch of curls there. 
“You gonna cum?” he coos, grinning when you shake your head, “Of course you are. I can fuckin’ feel it, baby. Know you got one for me, go ahead. Cum on my cock real nice, c’mon.”
“C-Can’t,” you whimper. It’s too much. You’re so wet. It’s fucking messy but you feel yourself at that damn wall, hanging on a thread and waiting for euphoria to come but it doesn’t, “Please! Simon! Please, I-I can’t! Please, please, please…”
“Fuck,” his hisses when he hears you begging to cum on his cock, “Come on then, baby. You can do it. Just let it go, let me fuck it outta you.”
You toss your head back into the pillows as a sob is ripped from your chest. As if he can sense how much you’re struggling, he brings his thumb down to press against your clit. Your eyes fucking roll, only the whites of them visible. You clench down around him like a vice and it only takes a couple little swipes of his thumb for you to tumble over the edge. 
It feels unlike anything you could have ever imagined. Pleasure soars through you and your hearing cuts out. It feels like you lose control of your body, unable to do anything but thrash and twitch as he fucks you through it. You’re not sure if you would prefer him to stop or keep going because it’s all so fucking much that it hurts. 
You’re gushing around him, drenching his cock in sticky, creamy cum that drips in thick strings down his balls. Holy fuck.
It feels like hours that you’re speared on his cock, cumming and cumming before it finally leaves you and you collapse against the bed. You’re still twitching, entire body shivering until he finally slows his thrusts to soft little rolls of his hips. He takes his thumb off of your clit and you’re thankful because it was starting to become unpleasant. 
You swallow despite how dry your mouth is, eyes finally focusing on him. His brows are furrowed and his bottom lip is tucked into his mouth. Pretty, brown eyes are locked on you and you suddenly feel shy. 
Had he been watching you the whole time? You hoped you didn’t make any ugly faces or embarrassing noises. 
“Fuck,” he coos, seemingly sensing your shame, “That was a fuckin’ orgasm, love.”
You’re panting, you realize. And you’re tired. You’ve never felt more relaxed in your life. 
All you can think is that you’ve been missing out on that your whole life? Now you’re not sure you’ll be able to even live without it ever again. 
Simon’s hands cup under your knees and pin them to your chest. You gasp as he bends you as he sees fit. You’re limp, so completely drunk on the pleasure you just experienced that you simply let him. 
But you realize he’s even deeper like this – and it doesn’t hurt like it did before. He’s pressing against your back wall and it actually feels good. You feel so sensitive inside, like you can feel every twitch of his cock. 
He’s still languidly dragging his cock in and out of you. It’s a fucking mess between your legs, you’ve cum so fucking much that it’s everywhere. He’s never been covered like this before and it’s fucking hot. 
Your cum sticks between the two of you in little strings that break and reform every time his hips meet and leave yours. Your little clit is puffy and swollen from your orgasm and he wants to press his thumb against it again but he knows the poor little thing is much too sensitive still. 
Your legs flop uselessly as he fucks you, eases you past overstimulation until you’re sweetly cooing for him again. He takes that chance to fuck you properly again, intent on finding his own orgasm deep in your cunt. 
His heavy balls slap against your ass. He wants to cum. He plans to make himself cum like this, just using your pretty pussy. But then he sees your eyes widen again and your lips part almost curiously and his eyes narrow.
“You feel it again, huh, sweetheart?” he goads, shifting his weight on his knees so his hips are pressed even closer to yours. 
“C-Can’t,” you whisper, the same thing you had before. But it’s different now, “W-Won’t be able to, Si.”
“S that a challenge, love?” he teases, a crooked little smile on his face. You sleepily shake your head, “Hmm, I think I can fuck another one out of you. One orgasm won’t be enough, two is a good number for now. Until I train this little cunt to cum for me all night long.”
You whimper, reaching out the claw at his forearms where he pins your knees to your chest. You’re held so uselessly open, cunt completely vulnerable to his fat cock stuffing you full. His pelvis hits your clit in a way that makes the little bud tingle and your cunt clenches pathetically around him with every thrust he gives you. 
Sweet little ‘ah, ah, ah’s’ are punched from your lungs every time he sinks completely inside. He’s gripping your knees harshly, squeezing where he has a grip as his own orgasm starts to creep up on him but he’s going to give you another orgasm. He has to make you cum again, to see you lost in pleasure like that once more. He knows that will push him over the edge, give him what he needs. He wants to cum with you, fill you up while you’re in the throes of pure pleasure that only he has ever given you. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he gasps, fighting the feeling of his own eyes rolling back in favor of watching you. 
He loves the way you wear everything you feel on your face. From the looks of wonder when it feels really good to the little rolls of your eyes when he makes it hurt just a bit. It’s so cute. 
Makes him want to play around with that little part of you – be a little mean to you. 
“Cum,” he growls, fighting his own orgasm down, “Fuckin’ cum right now.”
“I can’t!” you wail, kicking against his hold on your knees, pressing down to spread you open even further. 
His hips slam against yours, loud slaps and slick noises of your gooey cunt filling his ears, “You can. You will. Cum, sweetheart. You better fuckin’ cum.”
But you shake your head. It’s so close, you can feel it. It’s creeping up on you and you want it so bad. You want to feel that pleasure again. But you’re not even sure you’re going to be able to cum again, it feels so much more sensitive than before. It’s too much. 
Simon bares his teeth, letting go of one of your legs to drift between your thighs. Your eyes widen, you think he’s going to rub it again – it’s so sensitive that you’re not sure you’ll be able to take it. 
But instead, he does something else.
You hear it before you feel it, a soft little slap followed by the feeling of being electrocuted. Simon watches you with lidded eyes to see how you react. Just like he expected, you wail and your body gives a mean twitch at the impact. 
So he does it again. 
And again. 
And again.
Not too hard, just enough for it to hurt a little bit. A sting against a terribly sensitive little bud. It’s mean – he’s mean. But he can’t fucking help it. 
He needs you to cum for him again.
“Cum,” he snarls, giving your clit another slap.
As if on command, it sends you over the edge. Your legs kick out and he has to abandon your clit to hold you down, pinning you harshly to the bed as he uses all his weight to fuck down into your spasming little cunt. You’re cumming so hard around him that you stop breathing. He hears the hitch of breath and doesn’t hear the exhale. All you do is lay there, cry for him and cum.
He finds his end just as violently, tossing his head back to moan into the room as cum erupts from his cock. His thrusts grow sloppy as he milks the orgasm out of himself, voice breaking as he whimpers from how fucking good it feels. 
Like no orgasm he’s ever experienced. It’s like he can’t stop cumming, filling you up so much that it oozes out from around his cock. 
You’re trembling underneath him when he finally comes down, tearfully gazing up at him with your mouth agape, struggling to catch your breath.
“N-No more,” you pathetically whimper, legs twitching from the aftershocks, “C-Can’t take anymore, Si.”
“Shh,” he shushes, letting your legs go so you can relax comfortably as he pulls his cock from your pussy.
It’s twitching and clenching sporadically, still coming down from your orgasm. It makes his cum drip out of your cunt, a mess that spreads to the already messy sheets. Your cum and his mix together to make a sticky, gooey mess that makes his mouth water. He wants to eat it up, stuff his tongue into your tight little hole and swallow it all down. 
But he can’t. Maybe next time, he vows.
His cock gives a valiant kick at the thought of getting to do this again. He sits on his heels, gazing at his messy cock as if softens. He feels dazed, almost drunk. 
Then he hears the softest little sniffle from you and his eyes snap up to your face to find your crumpled expression and tears falling down your face. You cover your face with your hands and earnestly begin to cry.
“Hey, it’s alright, love,” he coos, laying beside you to tuck you into his chest.
“I-I don’t know why I’m crying,” you sob, wrapping your arms around his waist as you cry into him. 
“It happens,” he assures, “It was a lot and you’re just a little overwhelmed s’all. Just let it out, baby.”
And you do, weakly sobbing into his chest until it feels like you can’t cry anymore. He holds you through it all, rubbing your back and cooing sweet nothings in your ear until you grow silent. 
“Alright, love?” he asks.
“S-Sorry, Si,” you sniffle, finally pulling out of the spot in his arms you were hiding in, “I-I don’t want you to think I didn’t want it or that it was bad. I just…”
He gives you a soft smile, leaning forward to kiss you. It’s short and sweet, “I don’t think that. Like I said, it happens. Sometimes people just cry after sex, nothin’ to worry about.”
“Are you sure?” you sniffle, wiping your cheeks dry when the tears finally stop.
“Positive,” he sits up, “Let’s get cleaned up, alright? We need to change the damn sheets, fuckin’ hell.”
You giggle as you look down at the sheets where a very visible dark spot is sitting where you once laid. You don’t even have time to be embarrassed before he’s swooping you off of the bed and escorting you to the bathroom.
It’s too small for both of you to fit but you make it work. He wipes you down with a warm cloth before hopping into the shower to rinse and clean himself before he gets out and lets you do the same. While you do that, he changes the bedding completely and replaces it with new sheets and blankets for the two of you to sleep in together. 
When you finally stumble into the bedroom, he wraps his arms around you and urges you onto the bed. You giggle as you flop onto the bed before he crawls in after you and covers the both of you up, wrapping himself around you until you’re tucked securely against him. 
“I take it you liked it?” he finally whispers.
You shyly nod, “I-It was um…fun.”
“Felt real good, huh?” he teases, grinning wolfishly when you whimper.
“Y-Yeah,” you whisper, “It felt really good. I already want to do it again.”
Simon groans, hugging you tightly before shaking his head, “You’re gonna be insatiable. Gonna give my cock a run for its money.”
You giggle, affectionately petting his hair before he looks at you with the softest expression you’ve ever seen. It’s like his eyes are sparkling in the low light of the bedroom. He leans forward and ever so softly kisses your forehead, then your nose, before he reaches your lips. He pecks them softly, pulling back for just a second before he kisses you again. 
“I love you,” he whispers, so soft that you almost miss it. 
And your heart begins to race. You almost struggle to find the words to reciprocate. But when you do, he smiles and tucks you against him again, big arms wrapped around you like a bear hug.
It’s almost surreal. You can’t believe you’re here after everything – with him. 
Like you’ve dreamed your whole life, he loves you just like you love him. 
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PART ONE.
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ollieolliewrld · 3 months
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HSR Men in Bed (NSFW)(afab!reader)
A brief look to what your sex life would look like with them <3
*CONTAINS SEXUAL CONTENT 18+*
4.2k words
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Aventurine
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♡ How he loves to get you all worked up
♡ Seeing that blush across your cheeks or how you try to keep a straight face as he toys with you in public
♡ That’s what turns him on
♡ Having you as putty in his hands as he lays you down before him
♡ It is always a production with him, as he makes undressing you into the most erotic experience
♡ He keeps your legs pinned with his not allowing your lower half to move as he takes off your shirt slowly making you writhe beneath him 
♡ Aventurine wants you all to himself which is why he is not afraid to leave marks as he leaves a bite mark on your collarbone kissing over it to relieve the pain
♡ He will fuck you anywhere anytime pulling you into the nearest empty room and testing to see just how quiet you can be 
♡ “Shhh, you wouldn’t want someone to walk in and see how much of a slut you are, would you?”
♡ Big fan of having you restrained in some way whether it be handcuffs or his own hands holding your wrists together 
♡ His cock stirs in his pants just thinking of how cute you look with your hands behind your back and his dick down your throat
♡ You are his and he will use you as such
♡ Enjoys eating you out until you cum twice and then making you bounce on his cock
♡ Aventurine sits back and admires how your tits move and the pout on your face when your thighs start to burn 
♡ On days when he feels merciful he will take the cuffs off and let you support yourself until you cum on his cock but most of the time he will flip so you are on all fours and he can shove your face into the sheets as he enters into you from behind
Argenti
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♡ The praise this man showers you with is endless
♡ His passion for sex makes it so you feel loved and cherished at all times
♡ This does not mean he is boring in bed but rather he puts his all into it
♡ Each time he thrusts into you you can feel it
♡ Loves to watch you cum
♡ Argenti likes to have you in his arms with your back against his chest as he watches you pleasure yourself
♡ Whispering words of encouragement in your ears
♡ “You’re doing such a good job for me, Princess”
♡ His favorite position is missionary because why would he not want to look at your pretty face while he buries his cock deep inside of you
♡ “You look so beautiful underneath me”
♡ Only ever looks away from you to place kisses along your neck never breaking his pace 
♡ He only really likes to have sex in your shared bed never being a fan of disgracing you anywhere else 
♡ However, there have been a few occasions where he simply could not resist you and has taken you on a balcony as you overlook the lights of the city
♡ He is usually quite careful with you only wanting you to feel pleasure but he can be convinced to do otherwise
♡ You asked him to be rougher with you, he agreed and a safe word was put into place 
♡ Argenti starts by cautiously placing his hand around your throat, once he learns that you are not made out of glass he starts to explore 
♡ He teases you by pinching your nipples and placing bites along your inner thighs
♡ While he never gets to be truly rough he does become much more handsy
♡ Aftercare is very big for him, Argenti loves to clean you up and hold you close to him just as much as he loves to see you with pleasure in your eyes
Blade
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♡ Sex with Blade is interesting 
♡ At times he is taking his time with it, drinking your body in memorizing every part of you 
♡ Fucking you slowly and deeply making sure you feel all of him
♡ Losing himself in the feeling of having you so close to him
♡ “I thank the higher power every day that I have found you”
♡ Holding you in his arms as he rolls his hips into yours numbs darkness gnawing at him
♡ Soft kisses cover your body, his hair falling onto your face as you lock eyes with him
♡ You wrap your arms around his neck bringing him in so your lips meet
♡ This side of Blade is not one you often get to see, him being so vulnerable and open with you, you treasure it
♡ Other times, though, he is using you to fuck through the pain
♡ Roughly bending you over the nearest surface not bothering to fully remove your clothes
♡ Just get whatever you're wearing off enough to thrust his cock inside of you 
♡ The sounds of flesh slapping against each other ignites a fire in his chest
♡ He picks you up and presses your back against a wall 
♡ Holding you by the throat as he brings your legs up to wrap around him Blade begins a merciless pace into you
♡ He keeps his hand there until he begins to see the life drain from your eyes, he then lets go and allows you to wrap your arms lazily around him
♡ Once you have enough life back in you, your arms grab at him, his hair
♡ Your nails dig into the flesh of his back causing him to bite down on the flesh where your neck meets your shoulder
♡ The sounds you let out are pathetic and pushes him over to finish
♡ No matter how hard he fuck you, he will never let anything happen to you
♡ You mean too much to him for that
Dan Heng
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♡ Dan is reserved in most things he does and when it comes to sex this translates over
♡ Never is he embarrassed to be seen with you but he would turn a bright shade of red if your hand was to graze over his thigh while in public
♡ Having you around him at all times brings him a great deal of comfort but he firmly believes that certain aspects of your relationship should be kept behind closed doors
♡ When Dan has sex it is all about you and him and bringing you both closer together
♡ Worships your body as he explores you 
♡ “You are so perfect”
♡ He strives to make note of every part and mark on your body
♡ The sounds you let out as he swirls his tongue around your nipples make it hard to restrain himself
♡ He wants to take his time with you giving every part of you the attention it deserves
♡ Pleasure for him comes from knowing that you are here with him and there is nowhere else you’d rather be
♡ The feeling of being closer to you than he has ever been with anyone else brings him close to release 
♡ Although, when you tighten around him like that he can no longer hold back the primal desire to mark you as his
♡ The slow and calculated rolling of his hips turns into desperate thrusts chasing a high
♡ He takes your legs into his hands bringing them to his shoulder to ensure you feel his full length
♡ Loves the way it feels when you run your fingers through his hair
♡ Whether it’s when he is eating you out or while he’s inside of you Dan will melt when he feels it
Dr. Ratio
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♡ He has done more studying sex than having it 
♡ This is a dual-edged blade as he is confident in his abilities but there is an adjustment period
♡ Like all fields, he wants to be the best and he wants to understand your body fully
♡ Nothing is out of the question for him, he wants to try everything and come up with what works the absolute best for both of you 
♡ For him what works is the proper mix of loving and passionate sex + rough and desperate sex
♡ Dr. Ratio loves you and aims to make your life as perfect as possible so finding what brings you the most pleasure brings him a sense of accomplishment
♡ He’s not much for jokes and this is abundantly clear in the bedroom 
♡ Having sex is a very serious thing for him that carries a lot of meaning, you mean a lot to him and he wants to show you that
♡ While he is not one for emotions he is not a robot, he does have feelings for you
♡ Watching you enjoying yourself and feeling pleasure makes him a very happy man 
♡ He goes above and beyond to make sure he is not being selfish in bed 
♡ Being intimate with you allows him to relax and let go a little bit which he never lets himself do
♡ Not very big on dirty talk, instead opting for instructing you
♡ “Move your hand just like that, baby” 
♡ Just as he learns your body he learns his as well and shows you exactly what to do to bring him to release 
♡ Loves you watch as you stroke his cock, your pretty hands making him feel so good
♡ Although it is very rare and he would never admit it, he loves it when you try something new with him and catch him by surprise
Gallagher
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♡ Daddy kink.
♡ He is not into age play but he is incredibly caring and wants to take care of you 24/7
♡ Gallagher is a gentleman at heart and this heavily carries over to sex
♡ He takes great care in touching you and moving you around making sure to be rough enough to inflict pleasure and just the right amount of pain
♡ Goes feral if you wear any form of lingerie for him
♡ His calm and collected nature tested as you bent over in front of him exposing the lace underwear you had put on this morning
♡ Walking over, taking you by the hips and pulling them back to meet his you feel his already hard cock against you, his fingertips digging slightly into your flesh
♡ He tells you to get on your knees and you obey taking his cock into your mouth 
♡ With his hand tangled in your hair, he keeps you there until there is spit dripping down your chin and your eyes are slightly watering
♡ Pulling you off of him, he takes your face into his hands making you look up at him 
♡ “Such a pretty mess I made”
♡ Wants you to be vocal whether it is moaning, whining, or screaming his name he wants to hear you
♡ The way you sound when you beg ‘Daddy please’
♡ He would give you anything you wanted
♡ You will have to sufficiently beg first
♡ It’s not his fault you look so cute when you cry only wanting to cum while he slowly moves his fingers in and out of you looking down at you with a caring smile
♡ When you two moved in together he had the goal of taking you on every surface of the place so sex has been interesting
♡ The top places have been on top of the washing machine while running, the dining room table, and the wall of the game room
♡ Marking you as his and making your house into a home
Gepard
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♡ Gepard has two distinct modes
♡ He will become flustered when you make a suggestive comment or rub your hand over his crotch in public
♡ When you get home you will continue to tease him for how red his cheeks got and how he stumbled over his words
♡ You tell him what you want to do with him and he lets out a small whimper as the words are whispered in his ear
♡ He looks so pretty as he watches you stroke his cock biting his lip anxiously waiting for your next move
♡ When he's like this he will let you do whatever you want to him, he is your toy to play with 
♡ Gepard loves you so much of course he will give himself fully to you, he trusts you
♡ However
♡ There are days when you make those comments and try to toy with him but he grabs you by the wrist as you try to touch him leaning down to you 
♡ “Behave yourself like a good girl, or pay the price”
♡ This Gepard will not play your games and would much rather you use your mouth for something useful rather than running it
♡ When you get home he immediately presses you against the door making quick work of your clothing
♡ Working his way down your body until he gets to where you want him most
♡ But he will not give in to you so easily 
♡ Now is his turn to tease you in the way that you do to him
♡ He savors the way his name leaves your mouth while he thrusts into you hitting a spot that makes you see stars
♡ His hand in the roots of your hair gaining control over your body
♡ Once he starts its hard for him to stop, pulling out of you and seeing your fucked out expression just makes him harder
Jing Yuan
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♡ While this man adores you and your body, he also has work that must be taken care of so he balances the two
♡ He adores morning sex
♡ Waking you up by placing loving kisses on your cheeks slowly bringing you out of the dream world and into the moment with him
♡ Before he has to leave you for the day Jing Yuan wants to make sure you feel his love 
♡ Sex like this is passionate, filled with care, truly enjoying each other’s bodies
♡ Holding you close to him as he thrusts into you from behind, never leaving the comfort of the covers
♡ Sweet words flow from his lips as you get close to the edge 
♡ “You are my greatest treasure” 
♡ When you come to visit him at work and see how stressed out he is, you offer to massage his shoulders 
♡ As you work his tense muscles his mind starts to wander off from his work and on to you and how good you looked today
♡ Bending you over his desk is a major turn-on 
♡ He likes it so much that he will often ‘forget’ things at home so that you have to come bring them to him at work
♡ When you get there he sits you on his lap claiming that he just wants to show you some documents 
♡ But his hand wanders between your legs and then you are face down on top of the documents
♡ Not that you would ever complain 
♡ After a frustrating day of work, he is the roughest with you 
♡ Using you to let out any problems he had encountered during the day
♡ This is also when you would receive the most aftercare, Jing Yuan is always aware of how hard he goes on you and makes sure that you receive equal parts love and use as a fuck toy
Luka
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♡ For a man with such a sweet face, his sex drive comes as a surprise
♡ Any time you go to the gym with him expect him to be horny 
♡ All of his training gets his blood pumping and any thought of you goes straight to his dick
♡ Luka does not mind being sweaty but if its an issue for you he will gladly fuck you in the shower
♡ Shower sex is not his favorite thing, he would much rather play with you in the shower and then carry you to the bed
♡ He loves to cover you in suds feeling every inch of your body completely unrestricted by clothing
♡ Likes to cage you against the wall of the shower with his arms using his knee to spread your legs
♡ He guides your arms to rest on his shoulders as he brings the showerhead between your legs
♡ He loves to see your reaction as he increases the water pressure focusing it on your clit
♡ When he’s feeling nice he will let you cum other times he gets you close and then takes you out of the shower to finish the job
♡ His strength and stamina come in handy as he loves to move you around 
♡ Very enthusiastic in bed and has fun with you while doing it 
♡ His angelic laugh is the complete opposite of the pace he is taking thrusting into you with
♡ Luka is not big on teasing you but he would melt like putty if you were to tease him
♡ With all of his fighting, you'd think he would be tougher but with just a few touches you have him wrapped around your finger
♡ The tough exterior he puts up completely crumbles when you are on top of him 
Luocha
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♡ Luocha adores physical contact of any kind with you
♡ He can keep a cool head in any situation, which is why he likes to play with you in public
♡ It starts with lingering touches, his hand trailing down your back barely grazing your ass
♡ Then it moves on to whispering into your ear 
♡ “I should have you bouncing on my cock right now”
♡ He loves to see your face turn red as you get flustered over his words
♡ No matter what he does to you he keeps a calm and playful smirk as he eyes you up and down 
♡ The only way to get him back is to play with his hair
♡ Running your hands through his golden locks gets him hard almost automatically
♡ He is quite ruthless in the bedroom often not stopping until you are in tears
♡ As much of a gentleman as he is, Luocha prides himself in ruining you in bed
♡ Pushing you to your limits and then kissing away all your tears
♡ So often he has had you brainless riding out a pleasure high only to put you right back on his cock thrusting you further into oblivion
♡ His favorite position is on your back with both of your legs on his shoulders 
♡ Having you like this allows him to see every reaction on your face as he mercilessly pounds into you 
♡ Occasionally he would want to incorporate light bondage liking the idea of having your hands bound allowing him full access to your body
♡ Though the furthest he would go would be nipple clamps if you were into them
♡ He would not be against himself being handcuffed but it would take some convincing from you
♡ Luocha takes a more dominant role in the bedroom but it would not be impossible to get him to be submissive from time to time if you know how to work him
Sampo
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♡ Life is never dull with this man 
♡ It does not matter the time or place if he wants you he will have you
♡ The thrill of almost being caught excites him to no end 
♡ He toys with you in public having gone out and purchased a remote-controlled vibrator
♡ It’s when you wear that one skirt of yours, his favorite skirt, that he bends you over before you can walk out the door and slides the toy into you
♡ “Be a good girl for me, show me how good you can be”
♡ Sampo’s timing is perfect starting it with a soft hum and picking up the intensity when you are in the middle of something
♡ He will be sure to keep you out all day to play with you
♡ You two stop in at a diner for lunch against your protest
♡ He has kept you on the edge for a while now plotting in his head what he wants to do with you
♡ As you sit down the vibration decreases and you see the smirk on his face which tells you something is about to happen
♡ When the waitress comes over you brace yourself but the intensity you are expecting doesn’t come 
♡ Sampo keeps this up until your food arrives, confused you begin to eat but as soon as you open your mouth it hits you
♡ Unable to hold back the sound that leaves your lips you hurriedly attempt to stifle it with your hand 
♡ Sex is one thing but Sampo would much rather toy with you watching your reactions
♡ When in bed he prefers to have you on top, allowing him a full view of your body as you bounce on his cock
♡ If you were to place a hand around his throat poor Sampo would cum right there and then
♡ The power he holds can be easily taken but only by you
Sunday
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♡ Planning, perfection, execution
♡ This is what matters to him
♡ Before you even come into contact with him, Sunday knows exactly what he wants to do with you
♡ He may make you cum once, twice, endlessly, or not at all
♡ You think he's cruel at times as he edges you to no end
♡ Not letting you know the release of finish
♡ “Do you think you have earned it?”
♡ To watch you pout and squirm under him as he continuously brings you closer is his heaven
♡ The way he touches you is so loving
♡ How he strokes your cheeks, the care he takes in moving your body
♡ It is a stark contrast with the cruelly he performs to your lower half
♡ On the nights when he is feeling generous, he will let you cum after all the teasing, however, it will be done with him watching
♡ Sunday will sit back and watch as you now struggle to bring yourself to climax without him lifting a finger
♡ He relishes in the look on your face when you finally cum, how blissful you look
♡ The arch in your back as you moan out his name
♡ The things you let him do with your body he is eternally grateful for as he looks at the glistening mess between your legs
♡ Leaning down to begin cleaning you with his tongue 
♡ He revels in the feeling of listening to you beg for release desperately pleading for him to show mercy
♡ When he does feel merciful and decides you are deserving of being pushed over the edge, you will be forced to cum until he is satisfied
♡ It does not help that his stamina is enough to continue fucking you straight through until you have cum twice and he is just beginning to get close
♡ The feeling of your walls tightening around him as he continues to thrust into you while you cum on his cock 
♡ He can’t decide what's better, that feeling or the sounds of your desperation 
Welt
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♡ Behind his professional exterior, this man is sexually depraved
♡ If he could have it his way he would be fucking you every second of the day
♡ His sex drive is only matched by ours, the two of you very often sneaking away in the express to his room 
♡ Has a slight corruption kink! you weren’t very experienced when you met him and he loves to teach you and explore the new feelings with you
♡ As much as he would love to fuck your brains out Welt understands if you would like to take things slower
♡ Guides you into different positions and gives directions
♡ “Just like that, baby, use your tongue around the tip”
♡ The man goes primal when he watches you swallow his cum
♡ He rewards you by making you cum until you cry
♡ Pushing you to your limits gets him high
♡ Watching you break underneath him completely coming undone as his cock slides in and out of you
♡ It is addictive to him, he needs it, he needs your tears of pleasure 
♡ Welt will only stop when he is satisfied, when he feels like you have gotten enough 
♡ “You can keep going, I know you can”
♡ You’re his good girl of course you can cum one more time for him
♡ He will have you reduced to a puddle in his bed, cum drunk
♡ When he eats you out nothing is going to pull him away from lapping at your juices 
♡ Your thighs tightening around his head, you pulling at his hair
♡ His grip on your hip tightens leaving bruises like fingerprints on your flesh
♡ Having his face slick from your pussy eggs him on to fuck you until your legs shake 
♡ Ultimately Welt is over the moon to have someone whom he can spend his life with not only emotionally but sexually as well
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Author's note: So happy to be back writing after taking a few days off! I look forward to what everyone thinks <3<3
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call my name and i’ll come running ; satoru gojo
synopsis; satoru can be irritating, at times. but even if you push him away, he’ll always, always be there for you when you need him.
word count; 8.7k (this was supposed to b a short drabble but i was possessed by the devil halfway through)
contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, reader n toru have a fight, mild swearing (a couple fucks here n there), hurt/comfort, satoru has communication issues but he’s trying his best, depictions of stalking (reader gets followed by a random creep but satoru comes to the rescue dw), uhh implied thoughts of violence? (satoru wants to Maul said dude but doesn’t), literally just me being in love with satoru gojo for 8.7k words straight
a/n; no thoughts head empty only gojo running through the streets like a wild beast looking for u <33 im normal about him yeah.
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“you’re so annoying sometimes, you know that?”
satoru smiles. the sentence isn’t one he’s unaccustomed to hearing.
usually, the words are soaked in an undeniable fondness, as they spill from your lips. rich with exasperated love. one that never fails to have the corners of satoru’s lips curling up, a mellow kind of joy blossoming in his chest.
but now, that fondness is nowhere to be found. 
you sound thoroughly exasperated, and a little bit fatigued. more than anything else, there’s a vague irritation behind the tilt of your voice, something almost cold. it makes all the difference in the world. 
and yet, despite that, a certain someone chooses to pay no heed to the bad omen.
“aw, c’mon. you know you love me, baby.”
satoru is grinning. lighthearted, awfully sweet. there’s a certain smugness to it, though, one he couldn’t wash away even if he was aware of it; you wouldn’t do so even if you could. that smugness is a part of him, one that you’d usually find endearing. 
but right now, it only seeks to further your frustration.
it was a stupid fight, truthfully. completely meaningless. satoru had forgotten to pick up after himself for, like, the fourth consecutive time, and so you grew annoyed. not by a lot, but enough that you felt the need to be firm when you reminded him not to make the same mistake over and over again.
but satoru had only grinned, in that self-satisfied fashion of his, and apologized in a way you couldn’t possibly call sincere. then he did what he usually does — promises to work on it. to not do it again. he never follows through, though.
but even that thought wasn’t anywhere near enough to make you truly angry. what really began to irk you was the fact that satoru wasn’t taking you seriously, even in the slightest.
that’s how he always is, when it comes to this kind of thing. and you try to be patient, you do. you try to be understanding. sometimes you even appreciate that he keeps the atmosphere light, but other times, you just can’t help but feel irritated by it.
and the current situation happens to fall into the latter category.
you don’t care if satoru leaves a candy wrapper or two out, every once in a while. of course you don’t. it’s a silly thing to argue about. but would it hurt for him to just listen to you? to try to put himself in your shoes, for once? it’s not about the wrappers, or the undone dishes. it’s about the way he treats you when you complain about it — like it’s no big deal, like it doesn’t matter. even if it obviously does, to you.
so, gradually, the topic of your little argument began to shift, into a conversation about satoru. about the fact that he so adamantly refuses to talk about the things that bother you in a serious fashion. about the fact that he so adamantly refuses to take you seriously.
and he just keeps proving your point, with every word that falls from his lips.
at this point, you’re genuinely beginning to feel a little angry. but satoru doesn’t see that as the warning sign it is — he just thinks it’s cute. he’s just been cooing at you, this whole time, despite your numerous attempts to actually explain how much his behavior affects you sometimes. it feels a bit like talking to a wall. satoru keeps on teasing you, even as you try to be firm about your point, and only brushes you off with empty promises to do better and more unneeded comments about how much he wants to hug you when you pout like that.
and you falter, a little. of course you do. you’re weak to satoru. weak to his words, that sweet voice of his, that pretty grin. but that only makes everything worse, because if you let yourself look even a little bit flustered at his comments, he sees that as his cue to continue.
you don’t even know if he’s doing it on purpose, at this point. is he doing it because he knows it’ll annoy you, or does he genuinely not understand that you’re upset? you’d like to think that there’s no malicious intent behind it, but can’t he see how troubled you are? you don’t get it. you don’t get him, and that frustrates you most of all. satoru can be so goddamn convoluted, sometimes.
so you simply can’t help but feel annoyed. angry, even. how long have you been arguing for, at this point? you’re not sure. but you feel the frustration inside of you grow, as the minutes tick by, into something you know will eventually explode.
a sigh falls from your lips, deep and exasperated. a little bit exhausted. “i’m serious, satoru. you’re not even listening.”
“i am!” he protests, stubbornly. childishly. “you just look so cute when you’re all mad. not my fault you’re so distracting.”
satoru smiles, voice sugar sweet, but all you can do is frown. does he really think it’s cute that you’re upset? the thought makes you somewhat sad. but you can’t show that, can’t let that part of you win — you don’t even want to think about the possibility of you crying, because of this. yeah, no way in hell. 
so instead, you channel it into anger. as the blood inside your veins comes to a boiling point, you dig your nails into the skin of your palms, gnawing at your bottom lip and shifting from one foot to another.
”satoru, i’m —” another sigh, sharp and vexed like the blade of a knife. ”i’m trying to have a serious conversation, here. can’t you see that i’m upset?”
satoru takes a moment to look at you, from behind the black glass of his shades.
he can. of course he can see that. you’re frowning, and there’s a crease between your brows, and you keep huffing and sighing every three seconds — you’re obviously, undoubtedly upset. and satoru wants to take you seriously, he does. it’s just that the part of his brain that only ever wants to coddle and tease you keeps persuading him not to.
he’s not lying, either; you do look cute. almost too cute to take seriously, when you’re pouting so sweetly, a little red in the face from all the frustration bubbling inside your chest. you look so small, glaring up at him like an angry puppy. 
satoru can’t help but smile. it’d be impossible not to.
and he will listen to you, will take you seriously. he knows you’re angry, knows you’re upset, and he intends to deal with that properly. but he doesn’t need to do it right now.
just a little more teasing, before he has to stop beating around the bush. satoru dreads it, a little bit, dreads having to genuinely be serious, be open and apologetic. it always feels so strange, so discomforting. 
all that stuff can wait until later. for now, he just wants to see you blush a little more, huff and puff at his limitless affection, that he knows you love deep down. where’s the harm?
(and therein lies the problem. satoru is observant, and typically good at seeing the line that he shouldn’t cross when it comes to you. but there are times when he slips up, times when he doesn’t realize that his words have begun to sting. times when the line becomes blurry, because he knows some part of you enjoys the way he babies you, and sometimes it blinds him to the part of you that doesn’t.)
satoru is smiling. it’s the same as always — big, bright, glazed over with honey-sweet adoration. smug and teasing. it’s such a satoru-like smile that it makes your breath hitch, sometimes, makes your heart race with wonder. but now all it does is annoy you. everything you love about satoru is annoying you, right now. 
in your eyes, that pretty smile of his seems almost taunting. like he’s trying to pick a fight with you, trying to make you even more upset. you don’t want to blow up over something like this, you really really don’t — but for some reason, you feel dangerously close to. it’s not like you at all.
you bore into his eyes with a cold glare, even though you can’t exactly see them with his shades in the way. posture straight and rigid as you try to make yourself look bigger. you must look at least a little bit menacing, like this. right?
“i’m seriously angry with you,” you say, hoping your voice sounds as austere to his ears as it does to yours. “don’t you get that?”
satoru coos, unable to hold the sound back. he doesn’t notice the flicker of hurt in your eyes, only focusing on how the sunset rays frame your figure, kissing your skin with sun-soaked fervor. you look so pretty. and that angry look on your face is too tantalizing not to tease.
“aww,” he croons, inching closer to you. there’s a teasing glint in his eyes that you can’t see, unmistakably fond. “is my little baby that upset?”
you blink. his voice sounds even more sugar-sweet now, obviously exaggerated. there’s amusement there, too — like this is just one big joke to him. you think he must be doing it to belittle you, to embarrass you. speaking to you like you’re some kind of grumpy toddler, and not a grown adult trying to have a serious conversation with their partner. your blood boils, boils, boils.
— and so the cup overflows.
“oh, go fuck yourself.”
it’s almost in a hiss that the words fall from your lips, cold and harsh; they leave the confines of your throat before you have a chance to reconsider them, sudden and sickeningly heavy. crude, too. you’d never be so crass with him under normal circumstances.
but you’re overwhelmed, thoroughly and completely, and satoru is being particularly infuriating. you genuinely feel hurt by the way he’s disregarding your feelings, and that realization stings more than anything. 
so you can’t help but say the words, louder than you meant to, before turning on your heel swiftly and walking out of the room. 
you don’t even have time to register what you’re doing, legs moving on their own before your mind can catch up. brisk and heavy steps carry you to the door, all while you furiously attempt to blink away the tears of frustration that begin to form in your eyes.
it only takes a second for you to grab your jacket — then you’re out.
satoru hears the front door close, echoing off the walls of your apartment. you don’t quite slam it shut, but you close it with more force than usual, and he can’t help but inwardly wince.
a moment passes. 
then, he flops down on the couch, lanky arms and legs dangling uncomfortably off the edges. the groan that slips from his lips is muffled by the soft cushion as he burrows his face into it, while replaying your interaction inside his mind.
satoru can’t help but feel uncomfortable, with this conclusion. a little bit irked. a vague something rests inside his chest, something he doesn’t quite want to admit to feeling. it makes him feel a little bit sick.
(”oh, go fuck yourself.”)
he can’t recall you ever raising your voice at him like that. when it comes to him, you’re usually so patient; soft, understanding, gentle. for you to have snapped in such a way — to have stormed out of the apartment in your anger — he must have pushed you pretty far.
satoru sighs.
he really pissed you off, huh?
(he can never quite seem to get this right, can he?)
it was never his intention to make you genuinely mad. he just lost sight of the line, for a second. that’s all.
and maybe he was also trying to avoid the issue, trying to avoid actually arguing with you. because he hates it. he hates it more than anything. satoru would much rather see you smile and blush than act all serious and sad. 
he just wanted to make you laugh.
was it insensitive? yeah, probably. he just can’t help but fuck this up, it seems. now he’s gone and made you angry — and as much as the sight would usually thrill him, as cute as you look when you’re irritated, a pit of anxiety settles in his gut. everything just feels wrong.
more than anything, satoru feels restless. because, right now, there’s nothing he can do. he can’t chase after you, even if just to apologize — that’d make you even angrier.
he knows he needs to give you space. you were obviously overwhelmed; some fresh air will do you good.
it irks him, though. satoru wants to fix it. he always wants to fix everything, before it even breaks. and even now, all his mind can do is spin in circles, wondering how he could possibly cheer you up.
he’ll just have to apologize, when you get back. and hope you forgive him. maybe he can get you something sweet to munch on, or a bouquet of flowers. would that make everything okay again?
satoru doesn’t know. so he just scratches his head, and tries his damndest not to think of how defeated you looked before leaving.
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your steps are heavy, dragging you forward, leading you somewhere you have no knowledge of. it’s chilly out, and the sun is already setting.
everything in the world feels so wrong. like it’s tilted slightly to the left, like the earth stopped spinning around its axis. like everything suddenly lost its saturation. 
you just needed to get away from him, for a while. away from that smug smile, that patronizing tilt of his voice. you couldn’t even stand to be in the same apartment as him. it’s not often you feel that way, not often at all. 
and it only increases your growing frustration. 
you are beginning to calm down, though — you know you are. the crisp evening air and the pleasant mingle of people soothes your muddled senses, smoothing down the crease of your brow and the ache in your chest.
a heavy discomfort, and a growing guilt. that’s all you can feel, as the anger slowly seeps out of you, turning into vapour with every exhale of your breath.
you hate arguing with satoru. you hate it more than anything. the guilt clawing at your chest barely leaves any room for anger — you almost yelled at him. just the thought of doing that to satoru makes you want to cry.
because you love him, at the end of the day, even when he’s being absolutely insufferable. he’s a sweetheart, your sweet boy, always trying to lighten the mood and make you smile. maybe you should have been a bit more understanding; you know satoru’s bad at this stuff, bad with emotions and vulnerability. and deep down, you know he’d never hurt you, not on purpose.
he probably just didn’t realize that you were genuinely upset. it’s a mistake that anyone could make.
but it just makes you feel so frustrated. like he’s not even looking at you. always hiding behind those shades, never opening up. never letting you see him wear anything but a smile. you want him to take it slow, open up to you at his own pace, but that doesn’t make the wait sting any less.
it’s not like you were asking for a lot. first, you simply asked him to pick up after himself. the way you do, the way anyone does. then, you simply asked him to treat you with respect.
a sudden pang of bitterness runs through your chest. sure, you could’ve handled it all better — but he could have, too.
every step you take hits the pavement with an irritated kind of decision. whatever. whatever. for now, you don’t want to think about it — all you want is to walk around and take in the sights, enjoy the peace and quiet.
so that’s exactly what you do.
before you know it, the sun has set, and the moon has risen — shining down and painting the streets in a mesmerizing blue, ephemeral and tranquil. it’s enough to give you some peace of mind, as you lurk around familiar streets, soaking in all the open space. so different from that suffocating apartment, and the man inside it, with that shit-eating grin and those breathtaking eyes.
(he’s called you, a couple times. you haven’t been gone for long — an hour or so, you think, maybe two. some part of you wanted to answer, just to hear his voice through the phone, but the part of you that’s still awfully irritated shut that down immediately. so, stubbornly, you just let it ring.)
the streets are empty, and the sky is dark. the light of all the lampposts illuminate your way, along with the soft flicker of the moon and stars. an endless galaxy stretches out before your eyes, little pale dots of stardust shining like jewels.
an ever-lasting, never-changing sky, that continues on for infinity. limitless. all the space you could possibly want, and then some.
for a moment, you can only look at the glittering stars in wonder, soaking in the feeling of absolute solitude. 
— it doesn’t last, though.
“you alone?”
a sudden voice calls out from behind you. close, discerningly so, enough to make you flinch. you curse yourself for not noticing anything sooner, caught up in looking at the starry sky, in angling your phone to take a picture of it.
hesitantly, you turn your gaze towards the sound — wincing under your breath when you see the man a couple steps away from you. he looks a little crazed, you think, shifting from foot to foot and hunching over. 
oh fuck no.
great, just what you needed. that’s just your luck, isn’t it? your brain can only spin in circles, trying to get your body to react, to run. to do literally anything except just stand there like a deer caught in headlights.
in your nervosity, all you manage is a painfully awkward laugh, as you stutter out a halfhearted response.
“oh — no, i’m just waiting for my boyfriend!” you smile, unconvincingly. your face must be soaked in unease. whatever he wants with you, it can’t be anything good.
at least you said that one word clearly — boyfriend. you can only hope it’s enough to scare him away.
but the man only shifts a little more, emitting a gruff kind of hum, not saying anything else. your spine tingles with apprehension. every cell in your body wants you to leave. he seems a little intoxicated, you think, and the thought only stirs the anxious feeling in your chest further.
god. why does this have to happen to you? why now?
thankfully, you’ve got your phone in hand. as your mind scrambles for solutions, your fingers tap at the screen, urgently scrolling through your contacts. in such a frightened state, your acting must be positively awful, but you make a vague attempt. not like you’re getting any oscars for this, either way.
“sorry — he’s calling me now!” you stammer out, taking a step away from the man. he doesn’t make a move to follow you, so you take your chances and press your phone to your ear, feet carrying you forward with haste.
in your fear, you don’t think twice about calling satoru — but you can’t help but internally wince at the decision, as the anxious patter of your own heart resounds in your ears.
how are you supposed to talk to him, exactly? what are you supposed to say? hey, i know i just told you to go fuck yourself, but will you hear me out? i need your help. 
and you do. you do need his help. all you want is for him to swoop in, to take you in his arms, your knight in shining armor.
satoru’s said it to you, before — that if you need anything, anything at all, you can come to him. that you can always, always lean on him, without exception. 
you know that he likes helping you. likes it when you open up to him, when you put your trust in him. when you aren’t afraid to ask for his help.
so despite everything, you hold your phone to your ear, walking away with brisk steps and praying that he’s not petty enough to ignore your call like you did to his.
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back home, satoru is still resting on the couch, tapping his feet and trying to distract himself. 
he’s a little anxious. it’s dark out, and you’re not answering any of his calls. when you’re out of sight, like this, he can’t help but feel a little helpless — worried about everything that could happen to you. but it’s not like he can force you to pick up. 
you’re probably at a friend’s house, or something. telling them all about what an asshole your boyfriend is. as much as the thought stings, satoru hopes it’s true; it’s all he can comfort himself with. anything is fine as long as you aren’t out walking alone, in the cold, in the dark.
entirely caught up in his spiralling thoughts, satoru almost flinches when the phone rings. laying on the table in front of him, just within arm’s reach. it only takes a second for him to react as his gaze flits to the bright screen, and he sees the contact name, the many heart emojis littering it.
with a start, satoru jumps up. his back straightens out, and his hand flies to grab the phone — he’d feel embarrassed at his own eagerness, but right now he just can’t help it. even under ordinary circumstances, he wouldn’t let the phone ring more than twice, always giddy to hear your voice whenever possible. 
this time, however, he does falter slightly.
he takes a split second to simply stare at the phone in his hand, at the affectionate contact name. what is he supposed to say to you, exactly? how is he supposed to act?
satoru doesn’t know, but as if afraid that you’ll change your mind and stop the call, yourself, he opts to simply answer. he’ll just have to figure out what to say on the fly.
(unfortunately, satoru’s instinctual response to anything is either smugness or playfulness.)
“well, well. look who finally decided to pick up.”
you’re the one who called him, not the other way around — but satoru can’t be bothered with small details like that right now. he only hopes you don’t notice the faint nervosity in his voice, the stiffness as he tries to sound unbothered.
you don’t notice anything at all, mind far too muddled, too clouded by fear. all you can do is take a deep breath, desperately trying to grasp control over your wavering voice.
“— satoru?” you call out, voice meek and frail. the man in question notices it immediately, sitting up a little straighter, but before he can say anything you continue. “i’m sorry, i just — are — are you still at home?”
there’s an anxious tilt to your voice, one that’d be impossible for satoru to miss. your words are a little breathy, spoken in a fast tempo, and he feels a sudden dread crawl up his spine.
something is wrong, his senses alert him.
“yeah,” he hums, trying to hide the turmoil in his own voice. “why? is everything okay?”
the line is quiet, for a second. “it’s just —“ an exhale, as you once again attempt to steer your voice in a less nervous direction. “just… some creepy guy tried to talk to me. i told him i was waiting for my boyfriend and now i’m walking away from him but he’s still following me.” another exhale, as you worriedly sneak a glance over your shoulder. ”i just — i don’t know what to —”
“where are you?”
satoru cuts you off, voice eerily serious. his gaze turned cold the moment he heard creepy guy, legs moving him towards the coat rack by the front door as if on autopilot. 
he’s already left the apartment by the time you answer, looking around you meekly.
“i… don’t know,” you sigh. “i’m not far. i walked past that one crêpe stand by the park but then i, like… continued up that street? and now i don’t really know where i’m going.”
you continue, a little exasperated as your gaze flits around the dark street. attempting to recall your steps, a difficult task with how on edge you feel. “i’ll try to look for a sign, or something,” you gulp. “… i’m sorry. i just wanted to get away from him.”
satoru’s voice is comforting, when he speaks, eager to console you. grounding and soft. “hey, it’s okay. i’m heading there now, alright?” he smiles, hoping you’ll hear it in his voice. “i’ll be there before you know it.”
you do hear it, and his words ease a little of the anxiety in your chest, despite your fear. “okay.” 
the line grows quiet, again, and your brows furrow in worry. “can — can i keep talking to you?” you ask, uncertain. a little pitiful. ”please?”
“of course,” satoru answers, instantaneous. he’s already making his way towards the crêpe stand with decision in his steps, mentally scanning the area ahead. despite his own anxiety at the situation, he attempts to sound as secure as he can possibly manage, desperate to soothe the worry in your voice.
“try to relax for me, okay? nobody’s gonna hurt you. not while i’m here.”
his words are absolute, as he consoles you. he sounds so sure of himself, so much that you can’t help but believe in his words. so you nod, emitting a weak hum when you remember he can’t see you.
“can you tell me what you see, baby?”
“uhh…” you look around, blindly, trying to find some sort of meaningful hint around you. “there’s like… some toy shop?” 
satoru only hums. “can you check your location on your phone?” 
you blink. 
of course. why on earth didn’t that cross your mind before? 
“oh — yeah — fuck. i’m sorry. i don’t know why i didn’t —“ you sigh, heavy. “hold on.”
following satoru’s instructions swiftly, your gaze scans over the screen. he waits, patiently, already heading past the park and up ahead. as soon as you succeed in finding the name of the street, you echo it to him.
satoru sighs, a little relieved. “okay,” he hums. “i’m not that far away. i’ll be there soon.” he only hopes his words can soothe your fear, even a little. “is he still following you?”
you glance behind you, and meet the gaze of the stranger. just like you were afraid of, he’s still following you — if anything, he seems to have gotten a little closer. with a jolt, your heartbeat picks up.
“yeah,” you gulp. 
satoru’s chest tightens. he emits a low hum. “just hold on. i’ll hurry.”
focusing only on the tilt of satoru’s voice, you try to calm your breathing. you just want to see him. the thought of doing so is the only thing keeping your trembling ribcage intact, at this point. 
you swallow a shaky breath.
“thanks, toru.”
a sudden pang of ache sprouts in satoru’s chest, like thorny vines curling around his ribcage. his heart hurts. you sound so scared, so very small. 
this is all his fault, he thinks. all of it. he got too careless; none of this would’ve happened if he had only been more considerate. if he had just stopped you from leaving and apologized, or hadn’t upset you in the first place. then he wouldn’t have to hear that scared little voice, wouldn’t have to imagine your body shaking like a leaf in the cold night. so far away from him. 
but satoru can’t beat himself up over it, not yet. there’ll be more than enough time for that later. for now, he needs to get to you — that’s the only thing on his mind.
so he lets his feet carry him forward, running towards your location with bated breath. he’s sure you can hear it, through the phone, even though he tries to contain it.
the sound consoles you, if anything. it reminds you that satoru is there, that he’s on his way. that there’s no need to be scared. 
but you can’t help but freak out, a little, when you hear the man call out from behind you.
“hey!” he slurs, stumbling towards you with unsteady steps. his voice is loud, angry, and it sends your mind reeling into panic mode.
a flinch overtakes your body, before you stumble forward, walking even faster than before. you’re almost running now, breath hitching as you gulp. satoru hears it all — your panic, the echo of the man. his own tempo picks up.
“baby, calm down, okay?” he consoles you, voice concerned and honey-sweet. “just keep walking. i’m almost there.”
“sorry —“ you squeak out, between flurry breaths. breathing uneven, laboured and anxious. but you try your best to calm down. “‘s just scary.”
it almost feels physical, the way it irks him. satoru wants to pull you close, more than anything, but he can’t. and that just makes the calamity inside his chest grow, clawing at his ribcage as if trying to escape, to go to your side. 
(he never, ever wants to hear that kind of fear in your voice again.)
“i know,” he soothes. “you’re doing good, honey. listen — he’s not gonna touch you. i won’t let him. you have nothing to be scared of.”
you nod, even as you exhale a shaky breath. ”i know.” 
and you do. you know there’s a truth, to satoru’s words, one that’s never failed you before.
because satoru is your safe space, at the end of the day — he can be annoying, outright insufferable, and sometimes he’s bad with emotions. but he tries, you know he does. and, more than anything else, you know that he’ll always, always be there when you need him. he’ll always be there to protect you. 
and a part of you is sure that everything will be okay, as long as he’s around.
(it’s easy to forget how trustworthy satoru really is, how much he cares. how dependable he is. and how serious he can get, when he truly needs to be, despite his childishness. it’s moments like these that remind you of that.)
but it’s still scary, at the end of the day. you can’t help but feel uncomfortable, a little lost in the world. because you and satoru just fought, you just told him to go fuck himself, and yet here he is. running to your side, in the middle of the night, because you’re scared and alone and you need him.
the man continues to shout, behind you, muttering curses you can’t quite make out. you look over your shoulder nervously, steps hurried.
and satoru runs like a man possessed, through the moonlit streets, gaze scanning the area like a wild beast. his most visceral instinct is screaming at him, tugging at his flesh and bones, desperate to protect you. to comfort you. to wash all your worries away. 
as he makes a sharp turn, he momentarily stops the movement, halting to look around. he thinks he must look a little crazed, with the moonlight illuminating his eyes, but he couldn’t care less.
especially not when his gaze lands on a certain person, further down the street — small and alone.
your eyes meet his.
with the darkness of the street, it’s hard to make anything out, but the light of the lamppost helps. though even without it, satoru’s sure he’d know it was you, just from the sensation that unfurls in his chest as his gaze lands on your figure. 
an audible sigh of immense relief falls from his lips, and his tense shoulders relax, eyes softening just a tad. he hears a similar noise coming from the phone in his grasp, and he assumes that means you recognize him too. not bothering to end the call, he puts it in his pocket, walking over to you with brisk steps. 
you stumble towards him, yourself, the worried crease between your brows now smoothed away. the closer he gets, the faster you move, until you can see the blue of his eyes. two pocket-sized moons.
satoru swoops you in for a hug before either of you can say anything.
he cradles you close, awfully close, so close you can hear his heavy breathing against your ear. it tickles your neck, along with his soft hair, and you shiver. his fragrance envelops your senses, a blend between fresh laundry, strawberries and some expensive cologne. your favorite scent in the world. 
and suddenly, the world is devoid of danger. nothing can get to you while satoru’s there. all that exists is you, and him, and the soft flicker of the moon.
satoru squeezes you tightly, ensuring himself over and over again that you’re safe. he might be squeezing you a little too tight, but he can’t bring himself to think about that just yet.
finally, that growing calamity inside his chest is satiated. winding down at the feeling of you pressed up against him, the indisputable proof that you’re okay. with you in his arms, satoru feels like everything is alright, again.
the fear inside his chest, so foreign it leaves him shaken to the very core, finally begins to dissipate too. he doesn’t think there’s anything that makes him feel quite as hopeless as the thought of not being there for you when you need him. he never wants to feel that fear again. it’s suffocating. it crushes his lungs.
all he can do is hold you close, his big palm smoothing down your hair, the back of your head, your spine. warm and comforting. keeping you steady against him. he can feel your heartbeat, rapid and anxious, so fast that his heart aches. satoru is eager to soothe you, eager to make it go away.
”i’m here, baby,” he breathes, rubbing his cheek against the side of your head. ”you’re safe now.”
the words are spoken softly, right by your ear, and you exhale a shaky breath. you’re bundling up his clothing with your fists, anchoring yourself to him. after a little while, you let go, opting to wrap your arms around his midriff instead. nuzzling into his broad chest, you try to blink away your tears and contain your sniffles.
you nod against him, and satoru kisses the crown of your head.
and, finally, his gaze strays. it falls farther down the street, until it lands on a certain man — shifting from one foot to another. watching you both in silence.
the calamity inside his chest rouses from its slumber, once more.
satoru makes sure to keep his hands on you, still rubbing your back with one steady palm cradling the back of your head. keeping your face hidden in his chest, safe and secure.
then he raises his head, back straight, full height on display as his eyes meet the stranger’s. he can tell they do, even with the distance, the darkness of the street.
and satoru knows he looks menacing. he knows the light of the lamppost illuminates his figure perfectly, framing his tall stature and broad shoulders. and he knows the moonlight caressing his skin illuminates his face, his cold eyes — blue and uncanny, glowing even brighter than the moon. staring daggers into the man’s soul. if looks could kill, there wouldn’t even be any remains left to find.
the man stiffens, visibly, and satoru delights in it. he doesn’t leave, though, and for a second satoru wonders if he’s really intoxicated enough to come closer — 
but, sure enough, all he does is stagger a little. then he walks away, grumbling under his breath, hands in his pockets.
and satoru isn’t satisfied, with this conclusion. not in the slightest. he wants to run up to the man, wants to hold him up by the throat, wants to tell him off. because he has the nerve to terrorize someone like that, stalk them with intentions he knows can’t be anything but revolting. the nerve to do that to you, of all the people in the world —
satoru doesn’t know if he’s hated anyone quite as much. 
and a part of him wants to make him cower. make him fear for his life, just to make sure he never does anything like this again. leave him with a fear so great it’ll linger for as long as he’s alive.
(and a more animalistic side of satoru, one he doesn’t want to acknowledge, wants to do things that are much, much worse.)
— but you come first. without question, and without exception. he refuses to leave you alone, and refuses to make you look at the man for even a second more. 
so he’ll focus on you, entirely.
he can tell you’re still shaken up, heartbeat pulsating against him, little flutters of life prickling his skin. there’s a desperation in the way you hug his waist, like he could disappear at any moment. like he’ll slip away if you don’t keep him close. the sight tugs at satoru’s heartstrings. 
his first priority is to soothe you, always and forever. so that’s exactly what he does.
satoru smiles. it’s small, in the wake of the situation, but awfully sincere. fingers reaching down to trace over your jaw, he gently urges you to look at him; when you do so, hesitant, he cups your cheek with his palm.
your teary eyes feel like daggers to his heart, an unmistakable proof of his failure. his failure to protect you, to keep you safe and happy. but at the same time, he’s glad, from the bottom of his heart — that you’d let him see you like this. even after everything.
you look very meek, blinking the tears away as you look into his eyes. they’re bright, and comforting. you wonder if he left the shades at home, if he rushed over here so hurriedly that he didn’t think to bring them with him. you’re happy, in any case — the effect they have on you is undeniable. 
you can’t bring yourself to look away, consoled by the flickers of white inside his irises, like fluffy clouds in the blue sky. ever-lasting, never-changing.
satoru tilts his head, smile sweet and understanding. ”that was scary, hm?” 
his voice is tender, somehow so mature. like he’s some older, wiser being, comforting a scared child. it’s so soothing, so very grounding.
squeezing your eyes shut, you can only bring yourself to nod, as you nuzzle back into his chest.
”you’re okay now, honey,” satoru coos, smoothing down your back as you sniffle. an immense softness seeps through his whisper. ”i’ll always be here to protect you.”
there’s a truth to the statement, heavy and pious. like an oath, a pledge, something for you to believe in unquestioningly. you allow yourself to soak in the words, knowing them to be true.
you’re safe, now. there’s nothing to be afraid of anymore. satoru’s here, and he’s hugging you, pressing kisses against your shoulder.
but you just can’t stop crying.
when you speak up, your voice is weak, barely above a whisper. close to breaking apart at the seams. too tired after everything to resist the guilt inside your veins, you sniffle, and part your lips.
”i’m sorry i yelled at you.”
satoru stills.
then, his gaze softens, considerably. he hears himself coo, softly, palm smoothing down the back of your head. 
his sweet angel. apologizing to him, when he’s the one who started this whole mess. when you’re still so shaken up. because he let you leave the house angry, because he made you angry in the first place. because he didn’t see how important the discussion was to you.
(“you’re not even listening.”)
yeah. he wasn’t. he didn’t really want to.
an acute sense of shame. an intense guilt. that’s what he’s been trying to push down, all this time. that’s the unnamed something. 
it’s hard for him. to be as sincere as you, as open with his feelings and emotions. as mature. because even in a situation like this, you can swallow your pride and frustration, and apologize. even when you aren’t in the wrong. you’re always the bigger person, always the one to give in first, because he’s too stubborn to do so himself.
next time, satoru pledges, he won’t let you. next time he’ll be the one to swallow his pride.
because, yes, being vulnerable and admitting that he was in the wrong makes him feel a little like he’s being skewered alive — but you’re important to him. he loves you. and he wants you to know how much he trusts you, how special you truly are. 
if he can show you that, by being a little sincere, a little serious, then any discomfort he feels in the process is a small price to pay.
satoru’s lips meet the crown of your head, as he encircles your smaller frame, arms reaching around your neck to pull you close. he rests his jaw lightly on the top of your head, breathing in your scent. ”you have nothing to apologize for, baby.”
a pause lingers between the words he’s already said and the ones he yearns to say, but can’t seem to pull out from within his throat. it takes effort, to squeeze them out; but every time he replays your own apology in his mind, it gets a little easier. he squeezes you lightly before opening his mouth, as if to give him strenght.
“i’m sorry.”
you blink. 
for once, satoru sounds sincere when he apologizes — almost painfully so. bordering on something you think may be nervosity. you try to look up, to catch a glimpse of his expression, but he keeps you hidden in the crook of his neck.
”i was being immature,” he continues, sighing. you don’t know if you’ve ever heard satoru sound so uncomfortable. ”you know how bad i am with this stuff. but i never want to — you know.” 
he makes a gesture with one of his hands, as if that will say the words for him.
“— i didn’t mean to upset you. honestly.” satoru inhales the cold air, in hopes it’ll make him more honest. “you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
you listen. intently, not missing a word, not a single tilt of his voice. it all sounds so genuine, almost foreign on his tongue. satoru seems to be trying to find the right words, grumbling a little under his breath. 
he’s cute, like this. kind of awkward, but that only makes him cuter. you nuzzle closer to him, comforted by his very existence.
”… i’ll work on it,” he whispers, at last. “i’ll listen to you. i promise. i really, really will.” 
you think satoru’s voice wavers, just a little, when he says his final piece. 
“so please don’t cry.”
this time, satoru doesn’t stop you when you attempt to lift your gaze, loosening his arms around you and raising his head from where it rests on top of yours. 
your eyes meet. satoru is smiling, weakly. he tilts his head, looking at you with something you could only ever describe as love.
”okay?”
such a lovely smile. so painfully genuine. his eyes are on full display, shining in the dark of the night, like splotches of moonlight. like someone stole the moon down to earth, and carved out little pieces to put in his irises. an ethereal hue.
he’s so gorgeous. hair just a tad messy, tousled from all the running he did to get here. cheeks a little red from the cold. when he smiles, his eyes crinkle. but he looks almost pained. 
(he was so, so worried.)
blinking away the tears clinging to your lashes, you simply stare, entirely mesmerized by the sight. satoru’s thumb goes to wipe at your glassy eyes, smoothing away the drops that threaten to fall. you want to engrave his expression into your memory, so you can never forget it. but it’s just a little too much.
so you hide in his chest, once more. the word that falls from your lips is tiny. “okay.”
satoru smiles, kissing the top of your head with a relieved exhale. bathing in your presence, still reeling from his show of vulnerability. he feels a little like he just cut himself open, let you peek inside his ribcage. the night air stings his skin. 
but you’re so warm, hugging him tightly, breathing and heartbeat finally relaxed. 
(he doesn’t mind it, not if it’s you — having you look inside his chest. if you asked, he’d let you build a shelter there. right between his fourth and fifth ribs.)
now that the words are out of his throat, they don’t burn at all. satoru feels a little silly, for being so scared to say them out loud. he knows you’d never use them against him.
all you do is snuggle closer, as if silently conveying your forgiveness.
you stand there for just a little while longer, wallowing in the tender atmosphere. finally, satoru makes a move to leave, and you begin to walk back home.
“sure you’re okay now, baby?”
you nod, exhaling a flurry breath. it turns into vapour in the cold of the air, drifting up and dissipating in the expanding starry sky. “yeah. thanks for coming so quickly.”
“of course,” satoru only says, choking back a yawn. 
your hands are intertwined, and he’s halfheartedly swinging them back and forth. it soothes your anxiety, and satoru’s protective instincts. you know neither of you will slip away, like this.
you shiver a little, subconsciously inching closer to satoru to protect you from the harsh bite of the midnight breeze. he notices, giving you a glance and a tilt of his head. “you cold?” 
“just a little,” you mutter, smiling weakly as you look up at him. ”i’m fine.”
satoru huffs. did you really think he’d be dissuaded by such a weak retort? there’s no way he’s letting you walk around all cold and shivering. 
so you come to a standstill, as satoru begins to shrug off his coat. he refuses to let go of your hand for even a second, making the process slower than usual — your heart flutters a little, as his fingers curl around yours, delicately. 
when he finally gets it off him, he wastes no time in draping it over your shoulders. it’s big on you, warm and soft, shielding you from the chilly air. satoru can’t help but giggle sheepishly, as he always does at the sight — you look so cute. 
“c’mon. let’s go home,” he grins, ruffling your hair teasingly.
satoru doesn’t feel cold, not in the slightest, as he holds your hand tightly. just your presence is enough to warm his bones to the marrow.
the silence between you is comforting and soothing, as you continue to walk. hand in hand, admiring the starry sky. you’re both too tired to speak — but satoru does so, anyway.
“i meant it, y’know.” satoru sounds sleepy, but earnest. ”i really will work on it.”
he doesn’t look at you when he says it, yawning softly and stretching his free arm. gaze fixed on the morning star. 
“oh.” you pause, squirming a little. sheepish. “thank you. i’m sorry that i — i mean.” a sigh. “i probably overreacted a little.”
satoru shakes his head, waving off your guilt. “nah. you’re right. i never want you to feel like i’m not taking you seriously.”
his gaze meets yours, tentatively. his eyes shine like wedding rings. “you mean a lot to me.”
the sincere words manifest themselves as a heavy pressure to your chest, closing in on your heart as if crushing it. it’s a pleasant sensation, though, overwhelming as it is. you’re a little scared that your knees will buckle if he keeps this up, but even if they do, you wouldn’t want him to stop — satoru’s love is terrifically overwhelming when there’s nothing to hide it, when it’s just love and nothing else.
but you’d never reject it. you’d let it crush you to death with a smile on your face.
all you can do is avert your gaze, afraid that you’ll fall into the blue sea of his eyes if you don’t. heavy thumps of blood resound in your ears as your heart beats, warmth spreading throughout your entire body.
“… you mean a lot to me, too.” you echo, holding his hand just a little tighter. warmth rises to your cheeks. “i just felt really frustrated, i guess. like you were looking down on me. i know you weren’t actually, though.”
satoru chews at the inside of his cheek, almost anxiously. “i know i can be a little much sometimes,” he says, tasting the words on his tongue. “and i appreciate you for putting up with that. i’m sorry i let it go too far. i’ll be more considerate.”
your heart stutters in your chest. you’re not sure what to say — the way he forms his words makes them feel so absolute. and you believe him.
“i’ll be more considerate, too,” you echo, looking down at the pavement. “i shouldn’t have blown up like that.” a pause. you mumble, quietly, a little embarrassed. “i shouldn’t have told you to go fuck yourself.”
satoru breathes out an amused huff, chuckling lightheartedly. his eyes carry a teasing glint when they meet yours. “i probably deserved that. no worries.”
“still,” you pout. satoru giggles. 
“we’ll both work on it, then,” he hums, tilting his head to find your gaze. “right?”
you blink. a small smile breaks out across your face. “right.”
satoru swings your hands back and forth, looking awfully happy with himself. you’re proud of him. really.
“oh —“ he says, breaking the sleepy silence once again. “and i’ll stop leaving wrappers around, too.”
this time, you’re the one who huffs out an amused breath. “thank you,” you grin, looking up at him. he thinks the sight is terribly precious.
a yawn leaves your lips, drowsiness sneaking its way into your bloodstream. you’re not sure if it’s due to the dark, or if you’re just a tad exhausted after all the arguing and panicking.
satoru notices, and gets an idea.
“you tired, baby?” he coos, eyes teasing but soft around the edges. “d’you want a piggyback ride?” 
when you give him a look, sleepy and kind of exasperated, satoru grins. you huff out an amused breath, just a tad embarrassed, but it only spurs him on.
so he crouches down, one knee meeting the pavement, letting your hand slip from his. you blink, tiredly, at the loss of contact. you can’t see his face, but you know he’s wearing that lovesick, smug little grin of his. 
”c’mon. your big, strong boyfriend’ll carry you.”
satoru’s feeling playful, you can tell. that’s usually a bad sign — but you can’t deny that you’re tired. and the prospect of getting carried all the way home is eerily tempting. 
your gaze falls on his back, and his broad shoulders. silently, you walk towards him, and wrap your arms around his neck. satoru holds you up by your thighs, and then stands up, jostling you a little; he does so without a hitch, and you’re reminded of how strong he really is. his grip is secure, and you trust him not to drop you, no matter what. 
you let out a content sigh, basking in the chill of the midnight air as you nuzzle your cheek against his soft hair. satoru chuckles.
”my sleepy lil’ sweetheart,” he coos, voice a tad raspy. ”lucky thing you’ve got me, huh?”
there’s a softness to his voice, despite the teasing tilt obscuring it. you can only huff out a breath, somewhere between a chuckle and a scoff, and cling to him tighter.
satoru will get you home safe. he can be annoying, outright insufferable, and he can be bad with emotions — but you can always, always trust him on that. 
so, with his coat shielding you from the chilly air, and his back warming you up as he carries you back to your apartment, you allow your eyes to flutter shut; enjoying the cozy feeling his presence brings you.
he’ll always be there when you need him.
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flseur · 6 months
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꒰ 𐙚 in for it — genshin men ꒱
⟡ synopsis : how genshin men eat you out, just to keep it brief
⟡ characters : wriothesley, neuvillette, al haitham
⟡ content warning : nsfw ( 18+ ), fem!reader, cunnilingus, face-sitting, fingering, office sex, teasing, praising, squirting
౨ৎ note : been in a writing mood recently and a wriothesley brain rot… sorry if it's shorter than usually, still trying to get used to writing smut but please enjoy ! ૮꒰ ˊᗜˋ ꒱ა
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୨୧ WRIOTHESLEY
❥₊ ⊹ wriothesley was… messy when it came to eating pussy. to him, the messier the better. and the more messy you were on his face, the longer he was staying between your thighs.
right now, wriothesley was in bliss. your thighs locked around his head and your sweet cunt in his face, what could be better than this?
"sit down, sweetheart." he commands.
"are you sure? what if i suff-" you were cut off by a squeal, wriothesley's large hands grabbed at your ass, shoving you down on his face completely.
wriothesley licks one thick strip up your pussy, from your hole to your clit before his soft lips wrap around the bud and pleasure shoots up your spine.
"o-oh... oh my god..." you moan, your hands grab at the headboard of the bed tightly, your knuckles turning white. you begin to rock your hips lightly, still nervous about hurting your boyfriend.
until wriothesley pulls away, peeking out between your thighs, looking unimpressed. "if you're going to ride my face, fucking ride it." he demands. "use me, i'm all yours, baby." then he dives back into your pussy, slurping obnoxiously.
you hesitate briefly, then think about his words and begin to truly ride his face and crying out loud. your clit bumps deliciously on his nose and his tongue slithers it’s way into your hole.
your hands soon leave the wooden headboard and makes their way down to wriothesley’s inky locks, pulling at the hair. “ah! so good! mmph!”
he groans into your pussy. your slick and his saliva was everywhere. on his nose, his lips, and it was dripping down his chin. god how he loved you, loves your pussy, your tits, and he loved the way you were riding his face so desperately.
“that’s it… that’s my fucking girl…”
୨୧ NEUVILLETTE
❥₊ ⊹ “you’re a messy little thing, aren’t you?” neuvillette chuckled. you were currently sitting half-naked on the edge of his oak desk in the palais mermonia. just wearing your white blouse, your panties and skirt were discarded and thrown somewhere in the room, your bare pussy was dripping on the wood of the desktop.
"you usually don't tease..." you pout, looking down at your husband though his eyes didn't quite meet yours. instead they were trained on your cunt.
"sorry, love." though it doesn't truly sound like he is. neuvillette lowers to face your bare bottom, his lithe fingers come forward and pull apart the lips of your pussy.
"so beautiful..." he mumbles before his tongue meets your clit then travels down to your hole. his tongue thrusts into you and he tastes your slick on it. "so good..." he groans.
neuvillette then starts to eat you out like he's starved. his movements which are usually precise and calculated are now messy, and erratic. you've never quite felt heaven like this and neuvillette hadn't tasted heaven until the first time he ate you out.
your hands thread themselves in his hair as you moan out loud and they pull his head impossibly closer to your core. "oh! mmf!" and you feel tears begin to cloud your vision.
he didn't care that you were making a mess out of him, and he didn't care about how your arousal was all over his desk or all over his face.
though there is a sudden tightness in his pants, and it becomes more and more obvious to him, neuvillette continues to let you use his mouth. to let you reach that orgasm you oh so deserved because he wanted to be the cause of it.
୨୧ AL HAITHAM
❥₊ ⊹ “tsk… you’re such a distraction…” al haitham feigns annoyance. he brings his hands up to your thighs and pries them apart. "can't even read a book in peace around you, can i?"
"ah! 'm sorry... i just really needed you, al haitham." you mumble looking down your body and the view breathtaking.
al haitham had his head leaning against your left thigh, pressing open mouth kisses that were getting closer and closer to where you needed him most. while his left hand was rubbing lazy circles against your puffy clit.
"i can tell... you're dripping on the couch." he sighs. al haitham likes to act like he's bothered, when in reality he had already read that book more then ten times over for a research paper. he was secretly more than happy to please you, though he won't admit that outright.
al haitham leans down and presses a kiss to your pussy, then his lips wrap around your clit and begins to suck on it. he liked to take his time eating you out, to savour it. to savour you. and that meant not making your cunt a sopping mess until you beg him for it. but he won’t tease you all that much today seeing how badly you needed him.
you moan out, one hand of yours coming up and grabbing your own breast. "t-thank you. love you, love you so much al haitham!" you babble.
"love you too, baby..." he murmurs into your pussy. soon, his long fingers meet where his mouth is pleasuring you and they make their way into your little hole, thrusting in and out.
you swallow back a loud sob, remembering you're not entirely alone in your boyfriend's house, as if the sounds of al haitham eating up all your sloppy pussy has to offer isn't loud enough.
al haitham's fingers were making your head spin along with the way his tongue was moving over your clit. his digits were grazing that sweet spot inside of you and the sound of your hiccups only spur him on more.
"please, please! al haitham 'm gonna cum!" you sob.
"do it." he pulls back for a moment, "cum on my face..." then he dives back into your cunt, his tongue and fingers now working overtime to make you orgasm.
your hips begin to grind against his mouth and your chest heaves. "i-i'm cumming! oh my god!" you cry out as you orgasm, hot flashes of white makes it way across your abdomen and you make a mess everywhere. your arousal covered al haitham's face, his hands and your quivering thighs.
"you're so messy..." al haitham says as he moves up to your face.
"sorry..." you apologize.
"don't." he says sharply, not wanting you to feel bad. his lips then meet yours, and you taste yourself on his tongue. "we're going to do that again and this time, you're going to be louder."
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flseur © all rights reserved, do not repost, take inspo from my layouts or themes, translate, or claim as your own.
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aztops · 6 months
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Embarrassing
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You waited on your knees, wearing nothing but your pink panties when I walked into your room.
I ignored you and looked around at all the pink. Pink walls. Pink bedspread. Pink furniture. Even Pink stuffies.
I open the drawer to your Pink night stand. I smiled seeing all the toys. A Pink skinny vibrator. A light up butt plug. A bumble bee. And a set of Pink furry handcuffs. Underneath all that was your journal.
I pulled the pink vibator from the drawer and walked over to you. I run my fingers into your hair and kiss you. I lift by the hair, pulling your butt from your heels.
I rub your pussy through your panties. They are already soaked. I smile and turn the vibrator on before working it in your pussy slowly. You gasp at first but relax into its gentle vibration.
I use your panties to keep it in there. You pant a little as I pull the handcuffs from the drawer. Your eyes widen for a moment and then soften. You put your hands behind your back.
I lock them in place and return to the drawer. I pull your journal and flip through it.
Your eyes bulge and you begin to protest. Your face beet red.
I stand in front of you and pull out my throbbing cock.
I want you to suck my cock while I read your journal.
You resist at first, but were defenseless. You take me in your mouth and begin to suck.
I make sure I turn each page loudly to remind you of what I'm doing.
I get to the time you lost your virginity. I read every word out loud and slowly. You sucked a little faster as I read.
You must have felt so ashamed afterward. You know you were supposed to save yourself for true love. What were you thinking?
You suck harder.
I read out loud how you were obsessed with the boy in your class, but he ignored you.
What? Were you too shy? Not pretty enough? Not slutty enough? Just think of the things that beautiful boy could have done to you.
You suck faster.
I read about the first time you got high and that pervert wouldn't take his hands off you. And how you finally gave in.
Really? You gave in? You let that perv fuck you? It's embarrassing how weak you were. You probably felt that shame for a long time. Didn't you?
You slow down and pull away, but I guide your mouth back on my cock. You eagerly take it.
I read about that night where you were really drunk and got fucked by a stranger in the backseat of that car.
That must have been the night you truly became a slut. I mean. That could have been anyone. And you just gave it up without trying to resist. You're such a dirty little slut.
You take me all the way down in your throat. You hold it there, literally trying to choke back tears.
I read about that time you kissed a girl and ate her pussy while getting fucked from behind.
Oh, see now, that's my good girl. I'm so proud of you. I like when you are fun like that.
You ease up but still choke back tears.
Then I read about your latest entry. How you met me. How you like when I call you a good girl, or my Pretty girl, or my Pretty Little slut.
I read how you like the way I look at you, especially when you're dressed up. The way I make you feel when I'm dominating you. The way I love when you please me. How I treat you like a princess and a fuckdoll.
I stop reading and pull your hair back so you can look at me.
I smile down at you while I cum in your mouth.
That's my good little girl. I'm proud to have you.
I take you in my arms and set you on your bed. I lie next to you. Hold you and tell you everything is alright. You are safe and secure.
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muntitled · 7 months
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𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐖𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧
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→ Mingyu x Fem!reader
→ Summary: "If you wanted me to get you pregnant so bad, all you had to was ask."
→ Warnings: Established Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Businessman au, Humour, Slight!Body Dysmorphia, Insecurities, Workaholic!Reader, Shy!Reader, Slight Male Manipulation, Slight!Angst, Smut (+18), Semi!Public Sex, Slight Coercion, Needy!Mingyu, He Whimpers, Pervy!Mingyu, Corruption Kink, Desperate Sex, Massive Breeding kink, Mingyu has a choking kink, and a Praise kink, Slight!Daddy Kink, Unprotected Sex
Mingyu likes getting choked, pls argue with the wall
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The dollop of heat in your stomach steadily grew into a pool of molten lava throughout the duration of the award ceremony. The entire televised event was supposed to be in celebration of your husband and the diligence he has extended to the company for all of 2 decades.
Instead, most of the evening is spent nursing your anxiety with a flute of champagne, while you attempt to not sweat through your very expensive makeup under the heat of multiple strobe lights.
Mingyu, sitting at the table beside you serves as your only anchor, keeping your feet planted firmly to the ground while the rest of the table exchange pleasantries involving baby pictures and ultrasounds.
The dread in your stomach only multiplies.
You've been made privy to how they speak about you and your husband behind gloved hands in hushed whispers. A husband who has had to be burdened with a wife whose internal clock was no match for the importance of a career. Perhaps they thought you were too self important and too driven. Perhaps that explains why you were always invited to events out of courtesy and never out of true interest. Perhaps-
"Stop that." Mingyu's voice travels to your ear at a low and conspiratorial baritone while the rest of wives and husband at the table talk animatedly.
"Stop what?" You ask while Mingyu draws your attention to his hand now resting on your thigh underneath the table.
"Don't play with me. I can tell when you're overthinking," He says, letting his palm brush over the sequins of your pitch black dress. It matched his all black suit to rude perfection, truly making you believe you were the best dressed couple in the whole event. "If you're gonna be thinking about something, I'd rather it be the likelihood of me eating you out in this dress after we're done."
His words succeed in dragging your thoughts away from the happy couples and their happy families and you meet his eyes and the amusement swimming within them.
"Is sex really all you think about-"
Mingyu answers your question by suddenly grabbing a hold of your hand and forcing your palm over his lap until your palm is lightly grazing the bulge forming there.
"Let's hope this ends soon so we can get the fuck out of here." The rest of the event was spent with you, staring down at the table in a mindless, lustful daze while Mingyu still guided your palm up and down the bulge in his pants. It was conspicuous enough for it to look like his hand was simply resting atop yours, if anyone really got particularly nosy. Luckily, everyone else was too drunk on overpriced soju to recognize Mingyu's forced self pleasuring while he took casual little sips from his glass intermittently.
You were both relieved once it was time to go home.
This inability to adapt into the upper echelons of housewife society had not bothered you initially and it certainly did not bother your husband. In fact, someone as aloof and optimistic as Mingyu was seldom concerned with the matters of holding face for a backwards capitalistic society.
"If we weren't rich I thoroughly believe we would be those 'eat the rich' people." Mingyu announces as he trails into the bathroom behind you. The overhead lights bathe the bathroom's onyx accents in a dim light, successfully relaxing you and easing the bundle of knots that had built up in your shoulders.
Mingyu seems equally pleased to be back home, kicking off his Abercrombie loafers and watching them fly into a corner while he undoes the buttons of his jet black dress shirt. His tall frame is hunched over as he wraps his arms around your stomach, allowing you to lead him to the bathroom sinks with heavy footsteps like a 187 centimetre baby.
You, of course, do not object when he pushes his head into the space between your neck and shoulder as you begin to brush your teeth. If the award ceremony was as draining for him as it was for you, then this truly is the first moment he is able to let himself go the entire day.
"I think we can still be those 'eat the rich' people because it's not like we're rich by choice, right?" Seeing your husband constantly run the risk of impending communism would be amusing, were it not for the sour taste still present in your mouth from the work event Mingyu had just taken you too.
"At least you got to watch me in my element-" He grumbles against your skin before begrudgingly peeling himself off of you to make his way to his side of the bathroom,
"Ugh," Mingyu groans with exaggeration as he commences with his skin care, "You literally got to watch your sexy and talented husband accept a corporate award in a room full of people. I'm so jealous of you,"
"Ugh, I know!" You nod back, "Jihoon looked so good on that podium. Remind me to send him a message later." You evade Mingyu's deadpan look through the oval shaped mirror as you continue to brush.
"On a serious note, Gyu, I'm glad you had fun while I was being forced to entertain those industry housewives." You momentarily stop your brushing, "I'm thoroughly overwhelmed by ultrasounds!" You exclaim frustratedly through a gurgle of toothpaste. The very thought of those women shot your blood pressure to hell.
Their idealistic lives and their idealistic vaginas that could somehow push out a steady stream of babies before snapping back as if nothing ever happened. Business as usual.
Meanwhile, your body threw a tantrum the very second you even had a vague thought of eating something outside the bounds of your diet.
Mingyu adored every part of you - you know this - but that nauseating feeling of inadequacy always crept up on you in moments of weakness.
You sigh, "I think those women have magical vaginas."
"Hey." Mingyu says, patting down his face, "All women have magical vaginas but you especially."
You swiftly ignore him and continue your furious brushing as you say, "Every single day it's 'This one is pregnant!' 'This one wants to get pregnant,' 'This one is trying to get pregnant!'" You rant, completely oblivious to the way Mingyu watches you through the mirror as you continue.
"'I'm not quite sure when it became socially accessible for couples to just air out their breeding kinks to the public-" an ungentlemanly snort escapes through Mingyu's mouth and he pauses to shake his head and compose himself.
"I'm ultra-sounded out!" You exclaim, finally bending over to spit out a wad of toothpaste. In your periphery, Mingyu watches you with that passive look of contentment and unwavering adoration that almost never seems to leave his face in your presence.
Despite his overly humorous tendencies at times, Mingyu also harboured the habit of reading in between the lines - he had to, not only for his job but for his romantic life as well. Being blessed with a shy partner meant Mingyu had to dig just a little deeper past the veneer of everything you say, to get just a little closer to what you actually meant.
Your shyness and stoicism is what initially drew him to you in the first place. Always beating around the proverbial bush to protect your most sacred dignity and independence. It was always a struggle for Mingyu but it turned him on way too easily to picture his put-together, independent little wife needing him in a way she might not even know.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" You ask quietly, lifting your head before reigning your braids into a ponytail.
"How am I looking at you?" Mingyu asks in a voice way too husky to harbour any sense of professionalism.
"Are you seriously turned on right now?" There is no use in denying it because Mingyu knew you could read him like an open book. There's a soberness that hits him when he's turned on.
He jokes less than usual and assumes a more… slutty disposition that neither him nor you have ever been able to tame. Mingyu rubs the excess cream into his hands before leaning against the marble countertops. He watches you with a small, dangerous smirk that sends a flurry of butterflies swimming the pits of your stomach.
"If you wanted me to get you pregnant so badly, all you had to do was ask." His sentence bulldozes through the silence, steals the air right out of your lungs and nearly sweeps your feet out from underneath you. The world practically spins for a second but you grapple desperately onto your sensibilities for your sensibilities are one of the very few things you can arm yourself against your husband's slutty seduction.
"I think I could've squeezed you into my busy schedule," He chuckles lightly before stepping forward.
Almost automatically you step backwards, which evidently gets Mingyu way too excited. He raises his eyebrows with a slight before he's closing the distance between the two of you with 2 wide strides.
The light pouring down from the ceiling suddenly feels too warm, and the air feels like you've teleported to a crowded bazaar in the centre of the desert. You refuse to make eye contact with Mingyu, looming over you. You only splay a hand against his chest as you attempt to chuckle.
"You're being ridiculous." You say, "If you need to cum so bad, use your hand."
"Nah," He shakes his head without ever breaking eye contact, "That would be a waste, wouldn't it?" Mingyu's eyes frantically search your features for the same traces of lust so shamelessly displayed across his own visage. His lips are parted with his quiet breathing. "Just tell me what you want me to do, and I'll do it."
It felt like a betrayal on everything you held dear, admitting that the idea of him cumming inside you with the purpose of getting you pregnant turned you on. It felt like a betrayal on your career and your goals and aspirations.
However, Mingyu's sensibilities are completely clouded by unshakeable lust. He is so easily stimulated by every single thing about you, the softness of your body, the familiarity of your scent and the mental image of seeing you actually pregnant with his child. It has him pushing you further against the bathroom wall until the coolness of the stone sank steadily through your night dress.
Mingyu's hand immediately rips the offending article of clothing, pushing your night dress up slowly and feeling his own cock ache at how you silently comply.
"It's really easy, baby. I just need you to tell me you want me to cum in that little pussy of yours and I'll do it. Just wanna…" Mingyu's incoherence during states of exceptional lust always succeeded in making you absolutely wet. He became an insatiable, talkative and blubbering mess.
"...Just wanna make you happy," His breathing picks up almost as easily as yours, and inside himself, Mingyu releases a shotgun prayer that you want this just as bad as he does. He hopes your mind has been flooded with the exact same fantasies of him, sliding his bare cock into your soaking cunt. Him ramming into you and finishing inside of you and-
"Ah- fuck," He hisses, unable to get your panties down all the way before he's letting his fingers drift across your slippery folds. "Look at how wet you are, baby. You really do want me to cum inside your pretty little pussy, don't you?"
Mingyu's cock twitches uncomfortably in his pants while he drifts his fingers over your puffy clit, pulling a strangled moan from your throat.
"Feels good, baby?" He whimpers before slotting his hips between your legs. Mingyu's breath is warm against the side of your face as he continues to rub infuriating circles on your clit. "I can make you feel even better baby… if you let me fuck you, I can make us both feel good, yeah?" He's a whining mess - you both are as your hips move in tandem against his hands.
"Fuck, baby I need you to tell me you want this. I need you to tell me I can throw away the condoms, that I can cum inside you-"
"F-Fuck, Daddy," Your slip-up would've gone perfectly unnoticed, were it not for the heavy, almost oppressive silence between the two of you in the bathroom. Mingyu's ears perk up like a puppy that had just heard his favorite word, and he pulls himself away to gaze deeply into your eyes with adoration and awe. Mingyu's pink lips hang open as he scrambles back up to his height. He cups your cheeks with both hands, and you lean into his warm calluses as his thumbs rub gentle circles on your cheek.
The kiss he leaves on your nose is delicate and romantic.
The perfect calm before the proverbial storm.
Mingyu then nods slowly as he says, "Well now I'm definitely going to fuck you," the conviction and the bass in his voice urges a pathetic whimper through your lips and you're left to comply limply as Mingyu places a palm on your exposed thigh. He lifts you up until your leg is locked firmly around his hip and he's almost perfectly slotted between your bare legs. The feeling of having him so close to you, in such a starkly intimate position leaves you both momentarily speechless and you're watching each other as if terrified of breaking this spell of lust.
Mingyu is deliberate in his actions as he moves his hand to pull his cock out of his pants, all without breaking eye contact.
"Don't play with me like this, baby," it's the most serious he has ever been, and your back is almost moulded to the wall as Mingyu lines the tip of his aching cock to your dripping cunt. "I was literally so close to cumming in my pants, so if you're playing with me right now-"
"Mingyu," your voice is airy as you push your hips forward, taking initiative, as you always did, until the head of his cock was prodding your entrance. He shivers greatly before stealing a glance down at his cock entering you so swiftly, before he gazes deep into your eyes once more.
"If you want me…" Mingyu whispers as he fully sheathes his cock inside you, overcome by yet another violent shiver. "Baby, you have me."
The first thrust is nearly cataclysmic and he has to stop himself from cumming on the spot. Seeing him so incredibly turned on, so ready to burst at the seams has your cunt clenching around him, pulling him deeper and deeper until his gigantic cock was stretching your cunt to what felt like its limits. That second thrust completely drains him of all his composure and soon Mingyu's fucking you relentlessy into the wall as if he both hated you and loved you and did not know which was which.
Your mouth hangs open as you watch him absolutely ravage you. His dark eyes are hooded with lust and he's babbling his incoherent sentences while his long, messy hair brushes over his cheeks. He is absolutely fargone as he thrusts his hips into you, while his other hand is stationed against the wall above you. "Thank you for letting me do this, baby," he damn near whimpers as he pushes himself harder and faster into you, unable to stop the neediness from sinking into his tone. "Thank you, thank you, thank you-"
"You're doing so well baby" You whisper, causing his hips to stutter against yours while a pained moan releases itself from your throat.
Your mouth is still hanging open and Mingyu takes the opportunity to dip down and crash his lips onto yours. The kiss is furious and desperate and you realise this is exactly what you love about him. You appreciate how easy it is to please him, how unashamed Mingyu is of displaying his emotions. He is loud and passionate and it drives you absolutely insane.
"Fuck-I'm close," He breathes, as he peppers kisses along your face. His hand squeezes desperately at your breasts as he pants in your ear. "Tell me to cum inside you- pleasepleaseplease,"
You are operating purely on the lust distributed from Mingyu's incessant whining and whimpering until an idea strikes you so vividly you almost wonder why you had not done this before.
In between your feverish panting and Mingyu's ravaging motions, you delve your head into his hair before peeling his face away from you. His eyebrows are furrowed in confusion before you slither your hand down to lock your palm around the his throat. Your hand doesn't fully enclose his neck but you succeed in adding pressure, causing the man before you to roll his eyes into the back of his skull in absolutely ecstasy-
"Oh fuck-I'm cumming-" his body spasms before you in a euphoric daze, quickly triggering your own orgasm as you continue to choke him and move your hips in tandem with his cock.
"Fuck, oh fuck!" He swears as he clamps his hand around your thigh as if begging to spread you wider, to push in deeper until he's filling you up completely with his load. It's messy and so wildly intimate, you're both lost in the crevices of your own respective pleasure. How anyone could make someone feel as completed as you two currently feel is so unimaginable, you both struggle to find the words. Mingyu is a panting mess above you while you attempt to ease your runway heart.
It strikes you then that you're perhaps afraid, now that the lust has cleared that the post nut clarity might rid him of his earlier statements.
All you do is watch as he places another kiss on the tip of your nose before easing his cock out of you.
"I'll run out to buy Plan B tomorrow. You don't have to -"
He shushes you almost immediately as he pads over the bathroom sink. Mingyu hums softly as he ruffles through the medicine cabinet until he finds what he's looking for. All you can do is watch as he dumps the entire contents of your birth control pills down the toilet. He never breaks eye contact, only maintaining a wide slightly manic smile.
<3
© to @mphountitled on tumblr; do not repost
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bunni-v1 · 8 months
Note
Heyyaaa
May I request dorm leaders finding out you’re a girl please? If it’s too much u can make a part 2
Dorm Leaders Find Out You're a Girl?!?!?! (NOT CLICKBAIT!!!)
TW: Mentions of transphobia (nothing awful, just literally dropping the word lol); Idia is creepy
Info: Riddle, Leona, Azul, Kalim, Vil, Idia, Malleus x Reader (Platonic or Romantic); Fluff, Comedy(?)
🍓This one is gonna be long, like 5.3k words long. I love writing the dorm leaders so damn much <3 Besides, there’s been a long wait for this one, so I hope I make it worth it! You might see some favoritism shine through, but I did my best to keep it even. Hope you all enjoy!
Tags: @kierancaz @danchann33 @arashrita @the-ace-reader @akiyamasmizuki @kitsun369 @bloomstruck (I think I got all of you)
First Years
Ortho Sebek
Second Years
Third Years
-Okay so, I know we’re all wondering, how the hell do you get away with hiding your gender for so damn long?
-Firstly, those ceremonial robes do great at hiding the figure. The only tell would maybe be your hair, but feminine men aren’t unwelcome at Nightraven College, so you mostly get a few questioning stares and that’s it.
-Secondly, Crowley wants to save his own fucking ass. He already has to hide from the press that he has a MAGICLESS student from ANOTHER DIMENSION here, he doesn’t need the fact that you are a woman ALSO on his plate. So, obviously, he helps you hide your gender from others.
-Grim knows, of course, and he keeps his mouth shut for a few yummy cans of tuna (and threats of being expelled from Crowley <3)
-Even when you were just a janitor, he couldn’t have the rumor that he put a “helpless” young woman to work. (Like it wouldn’t be expected.)
-So how do you two do it?
-Baggy ass uniform. Crowley gave you at least three sizes too big.
-Your figure is completely hidden. Sure, you look completely homeless, but at least you’re hidden.
-For your voice, you simply deepen it. After some point, you blackmail Crowley into giving you a potion to help with it, since it's so taxing on your voice. (Or maybe your voice is naturally deep!)
-Sam provides you (for an unfairly pretty penny (not too different from your original world…)) any feminine hygiene products you might need.
-Honestly, you’re set for being cared for, but it’s the adjustment period that’s the hardest part. 
-Truly, it’s very jarring to suddenly be thrown into both a magical world and be isolated in a man's world with nowhere to hide.
-At least in your world you had other women who could understand your struggles. Here though? You’re completely alone.
-You notice how… messy some of these guys could be. How some of them smell… really rancid. -How rough they were with you and each other.
-Honestly, it’s kinda eye-opening. The way men show affection to each other is oddly refreshing to watch and experience!
-Ace and Deuce specifically are a good… trial run.
-That’s not what we’re here to talk about though…
-For the most part, it's incredibly easy to hide yourself for the first while on campus. Everyone on campus is so self-absorbed that they don’t bother questioning you.
-Your only real risk factor is Savannaclaw, but it's easy to avoid those guys (minus Jack, of course).
-However, you can only hide your gender for so long… It’s mentally draining to keep up this facade all the time around people you care about.
-So… how do they find out?
Riddle
-Riddle is the last student in Heartslabyul to find out.
-It’s not like he did anything to you for you to hold off on telling him (you know, other than the whole almost killing you that one time thing), it’s just that you don’t feel inclined to tell him. 
-Simple as that.
-He also really has no reason to question your gender. 
-Riddle didn’t have must interaction with people his own age until he came to night raven college, he doesn’t have the same social ideologies as other people do.
-Nightraven college is really his first touch with society outside of his mothers very watchful, conservative eye.
-So, excuse him for not picking up on stupid little gendered norms that the other students do.
-In his eyes, you dress like a man, you act (sort of) like the other male students, and you prefer he/him pronouns. 
-There’s nothing more to it then, right? If you identify as a man, he has no reason not to treat you as such - nor should he suspect you would hide your gender like that.
-Besides, this is an all boys school! Crowley wouldn’t allow you to attend here unless you were also a boy… right?
-He is aware there are exceptions — and you are already QUITE the exception, but surely Crowley wouldn’t be so cruel as to force a young woman to attend an all boys academy.
-Ah, sweet Riddle, ever in denial.
-He isn’t STUPID though. He notices how brotherly Trey is to you. He knows (and has heard) your many “secret sleepovers” with Cater.
-He ignores these things and doesn’t comment on them simply because, well, he likes you!
-He helps to tutor you sometimes, and he’s gotten to know you through that, and he really does come around on enjoying your presence.
-So, he ignores Trey and Cater’s odd behaviors for your sake.
-You keep him and his dorm members in high spirits, why would he want to shoo something like that away?
-He doesn’t really questionthings until he… overhears a conversation between Deuce and Ace. (A rather loud one, for how supposedly secret this topic was meant to be).
-One of them had gotten in trouble with a professor, and he was going to give them a stern scolding when he overheard what they were talking about.
-“Deuce, dude, you’re gonna want to sit down for this one.”
“What is it, I’m busy trying to finish my potionology homework.”
“Seriously this one is crazy, you’re not ready for for it.”
“Ace, if you’re just messing with me I’m going to leave.”
“Dude, the prefect is a girl.”
“…What?”
-Riddle did not bother the two after that. In fact, he just walked back to his room to sit and think about what he just overheard.
-It DID make sense. You didn’t quite fit in with everyone else for reasons outside of your otherworldly origin.
-You acted differently than the typical guy here at NRC, and you seemed to get along with the peers that were more ‘traditionally feminine’ best.
-It would explain Trey’s coddling and Cater’s secretiveness.
-Still, he didn’t want to assume. This was Ace and Deuce, and Ace could just be messing around with Deuce.
-So, at your next tutoring session, he broaches the subject as politely as possible.
-“So, prefect, I have… overheard something that I wanted to ask you about.”
“Oh no, am I in trouble because of Ace and Deuce again.”
“Not… technically… I did, however, overhear them talking about… you being a woman.”
“…I’m gonna kill them.”
“I could collar them for you, if that would help.”
-The confirmation was reassuring for Riddle in multiple ways. 
-1) Ace isn’t as terrible of a person as the thought he was.
-2) He wasn’t crazy in noticing the slight differences in you and your other peers.
-Now, you and Riddle aren’t exactly super close by any means, so your interactions with each other are limited to when you’re either being tutored or with friends in Heartslabyul.
-However, he is notably more nervous than he usually is.
-He doesn’t have some super secret crush on your all of the sudden, he just… never really had a chance to interact with women before.
-His mom kept him very sheltered from the opposite gender, so he has little to no experience with them.
-On top of that, because of his mother, he does have a slight fear of women. He’s afraid he’s going to upset you and you’ll blow a fuse on him or something.
-You have to assure him that you don’t bite and you won’t suddenly start screaming at him for no reason, and then he begins to relax a bit.
-Still, he’s very sweet and gentlemanly to you.
-If you need help with anyone around campus, you should come to him and he will have them dealt with accordingly.
Leona
-Leona “Respects Women” Kingscholar.
-Leona has SLIGHTLY worse smell than Ruggie, but he also knew immediately upon your arrival that you were a girl.
-In fact, he knew you weren’t a trans man, because they smell distinctly different from the typical woman.
-There aren’t many trans people in the Savannah though, so Ruggie not being able to pick up on that doesn’t really shock him.
-Leona, however, has smelled and seen plenty of trans people in his life time — you aren’t one of them.
-He won’t lie, he’s definitely interested in you. Women where he comes from are big and strong and proud, you’re just kind of plain.
-He keeps his ever curious eye on you though, because he’s interested in how you might navigate this whole thing.
-Now don’t get it twisted, he doesn’t care about you, he’s curious about you. 
-If you were to ask him for help on something, he wouldn’t offer it. (Not that you would, you seem particularly averse to him).
-However, if he were to see some creep trying to… well… creep on you, he’d chase them away without ever having you know he did.
-He was your secret bodyguard who wouldn’t admit it even if you held a knife to his throat.
-Still, he stayed out of your way and you stayed out of his. 
-A symbiotic relationship that you weren’t even aware existed… until you got in his way.
-Like Ruggie, when you start getting a little too involved in his ahem business, he gets pretty damn annoyed.
-You’re not exactly a threat to start, but you are a little trouble maker. If you find out what he’s up to, you’ll ruin his plans completely, and he can’t have that.
-However, he’s not exactly comfortable “taking care of you” like he is his male peers.
-He respects women, okay, you can’t blame him for not wanting to purposefully hurt you. (If his mom and brother found out, he’d never hear the damn end of it)
-He sends out Ruggie to scare you off, explicitly telling him he can’t hurt you on purpose.
-He knows Ruggie already has an idea of what’s going on, so he doesn’t have any qualms with telling him to be careful with you.
-Still, despite all this, he doesn’t really broach the topic until he’s forced to.
-He’s made it known to you, at this point, that he knows your secret. 
-He hasn’t caused you any extra trouble since his overblot, and he keeps his dorm members off your back, so you have no reason to interact with him… until, again, you get yourself into trouble.
-This time it’s YOU dragging him into your mess, despite him wanting nothing to do with it.
-You are convincing, though, so he gives and allows you to stay in his dorm room — rent free! Isn’t he so nice.
-Jack offers himself for protection if you need it, but you can see that Ruggie is quite bemused with the whole situation, so you decide to turn him down.
-Leona hasn’t tried anything yet, and he really could if he wanted to.
-You decide you can trust him. (You have to trust him).
-Then presents the issue of sharing a bed.
-Leona isn’t a weird pervert, okay. He isn’t absolutely leaping at the idea to be in bed with you — he’s so sorry.
-Honestly, it makes him a bit… uncomfortable.
-Sharing a bed is something you do with family or someone you’re involved with, not the weird magic-less kid who’s at least three years too young for you.
-So, Leona, ever the women’s rights activist, approaches you with a proposition.
-“Listen, I know you’re a woman and I know you know that. We’re not sharing a bed, there ain’t no way that’s happening.”
“Oh, so would you like the poor helpless homeless woman to sleep on the floor? How cruel can you be Leona.”
“Shut up, I’m not gonna do that to you. Listen, you can have the bed all to yourself and I’ll sleep on the couch, so long as you promise not to tell a single soul about this.”
“I promise.”
-You immediately tell Ruggie the next morning, and he is sure to make sure Leona never forgets it.
-Living with Leona for the short period of time that you do is very insightful!
-He’s actually pretty funny, much smarter than he lets on, and almost brotherly to you. Which does not fit the M.O. you built of him in your head.
-He’s gruff and pushy, but he does it out of genuineness.
-You end up getting really close to him because of it. 
-His quiet and laid-back demeanor are a break from the chaos of everyone else on campus, and he doesn’t make a big deal out of anything so you can just complain and he nods along unbothered.
-Only thing you notice that upsets him is when you bring up guys who bother you.
-Those guys tend to stop bothering you shortly after. How strange…
Azul
-Azul is hands down the last person on campus you want knowing about this.
-Riddle, Ruggie, Trey, Cater and pretty much everyone with half a brain tell you to stay as far away from him as possible.
-You see him in the halls sometimes, and he doesn’t look to bad. Unapproachable, sure, but he’s a rather pretty guy. Well put together and seemingly very smart from what you’ve been told.
-He helped to subdue Grim in the opening ceremony, so you know he’s magically capable. He’s also a house warden, so that goes unspoken, I suppose.
-He seems interested in you, from what you can tell. He always waves at you when he does see you in a sort of fake friendly kind of way. 
-You’ve seen him and his little (large, very large) goonies admiring ramshackle before.
-You’ve also politely asked them to not do that when you moved in, because it freaks you out a lot. To which they all gave you very eerie smiles and walked away.
-They remind you of a very small mafia, and you decided to heed your friends warnings because of that.
-You do so successfully for a long time too. Other than the few previously stated interactions, Azul seems un-inclined to bother you, and you don’t want to catch his leering eyes.
-Little do you know, Azul has a much more watchful eye on you that you initially thought.
-Sure, you don’t have much to offer him magic wise, but you have ramshackle. Oh, how he wants ramshackle.
-You are key to obtaining it, he just… has to find something on you first.
-You’re so painfully average. Perhaps a little more pretty in the face than his other peers, but you sacrifice that with the atrociousness of your uniform. 
-Truly, nothing about you is different.
-He almost gives up until Grim delivers him an opportunity in a pretty little bow.
-You agree to his contract out of the goodness of your heart, just like he knew you would. So sweet and kind are you, to practically hand him the deed to ramshackle on a silver platter.
-He notices, however, that Jade grows a very… sudden fascination with you.
-Sure, he told both Jade and Floyd to keep and eye on you and keep you in like, but for Jade to be so interested… very odd.
-Then, shortly after, Floyd’s own interest is piqued. Alright… less odd than Jade, but to have both of their eyes on you must mean he’s missing something. (I know I previously said that Floyd found out after Azul, but I was stupid and wrong and you should never listen to me when I’m talking about Floyd).
-He tries to get it out of them by any means, Asking, blackmailing, manipulation. He really does try, but their lips are sealed tight.
-It frustrates him to no end that they know something he doesn’t, and that he can’t figure out this very big secret.
-It stumps him for so long, because he’s looking in all the wrong places for the answer.
-Meanwhile, you know that Jade and Floyd know and you are TERRIFIED waiting for Azul to use this against you.
-The suspense starts killing you and making you anxious enough that its affecting sleep, so you decide to bite the bullet and arrange a meeting with him.
-Azul is honestly delighted, because he was just going to outright force the truth from you at this point.
-“I’m glad you set up this meeting, I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”
“I know… I’ve been pretty nervous about it since Jade and Floyd started pestering me.”
“Before I talk about what I want to, I’d like to hear what you have to say. I’m a good listener after all.”
“Too good, if you ask me. Uhm, anyway, so I know that Jade and Floyd to you that I’m a girl already, but I’m really hoping you would just leave me be. You owe me after all.”
“…You’re a girl?”
“Did they not tell you…?”
-what. What? WHAT?!?!?!
-How could he not tell, he feel so incredibly stupid. Its so obvious now that he thinks about it.
-No wonder Jade and Floyd wouldn’t stop teasing him about it.
-He agrees not to let the secret out — he DOES owe you his life, after all. This is a minor trade.
-However, he does not mentally recover from this revelation for a while.
-He doesn’t treat you very different, I suppose. He’s more gentlemanly with you, and is generally more friendly, but those things come from saving a persons life regardless.
-He is, surprisingly, willing to ensure your whole gender thing doesn’t get out so long as you work a few hours at the monster lounge.
-Probably the best at keeping it to himself and making sure it doesn’t get out. You wouldn’t expect any less with Azul, though.
Kalim
-You and Kalim don’t really have much of a chance to interact.
-He seems sweet enough, and you know he’s much kinder than the rest of the dorm leaders, but you don’t really have any reason to interact with him.
-Kalim also doesn’t think too much of you. 
-You caused a ruckus at the entrance ceremony, that’s for sure, but you kinda blend into the background.
-Besides he’s a party animal — constantly hosting these huge parties at his dorm just because he can.
-As someone trying to keep out of trouble and hide such a huge secret… yeah, parties aren’t exactly your forte.
-So, when you get roped in to coming to Scarabia over winter break, Kalim is pleasantly surprised!
-He’s always excited to make a new friend, and you’re pretty infamous around school, so he’s extra excited to get to know you.
-Kalim has no reason to question anything about you, like most other people would.
-However, he isn’t stupid. He has plenty of younger sisters, and he picks up on social queues better than you’d expect.
-He definitely suspects something is off, but he figures you would tell him if something was up. 
-You actually find him quite easy to be around. He’s someone who makes it easy to let your walls down and just relax with.
-Despite his sudden mood shifts, he always makes sure that you’re happy and healthy and doing the best you can be in your position.
-However, you run out of the magical potion that deepens your voice pretty quickly, and you have to go back to dramatically straining your voice.
-You sound sick, honestly, and it makes Kalim worry. 
-He figures that you’re forcing yourself to deepen your voice so you’re still perceived as a man.
-Instead of asking you directly, as Kalim does, he goes to Jamil.
-“Jamil…”
“What do you need, Kalim?”
“Don’t you think somethings… off with the prefect?”
“Off? What are you talking about, nothings off with them.”
“No, I mean… do you think they might be… a girl?”
“…Kalim, that’s very rude to say. You need to be more respectful.”
“…You’re right, I’m sorry. Could we get him something to soothe his voice though, it sounds rough.”
-Kalim is a lot more watchful of you after that. He just… knows something is wrong, but he doesn’t want to be rude.
-It’s actually you who comes to him when no one is around for help.
-“Kalim, uhm, I need your help.”
“Sure, what’s up?”
“So, I’m pretty sure you know, but I’m not a guy… I’m a girl, and I really need help hiding it. The longer I’ve been here, the harder it’s been on me.”
-Sweetheart he is, he promises to both help you and keep your secret to himself — and he does both surprisingly well!
-He offers his private bathroom to you so you can shower in peace. 
-It’s honestly the best bath you’ve ever had with all his sweet smelling oils. Your skin feels so smooth and renewed.
-Still, even with this, you still don’t feel safe with anyone else — plus the fact that Kalim has random and horrifying mood shifts. You have to flee.
-And yet you still get dragged into more trouble with the octatrio. You still get exposed to the whole dorm by a crazed Jamil, and now have to deal with the horror that they’ll tell everyone.
-Kalim feels awful, and thus shows his forgiveness in the best way he can: giving gifts.
-You get tons of apology gifts from him in the coming months. Baskets of the best shower stuff you’ve ever had; a new, better fitted but still innocuous uniform; enough tuna to keep grim satisfied for years (and sweets that you happily keep to yourself).
-It’s so nice, but you start to feel bad. It feels like you’re taking advantage of his guilt, when you’re not really upset at anyone involved anymore.
-You’re welcome at Scarabia any time. None of his dorm members will ever cause you any trouble, and you can dress and act and sound however you want within Scarabia’s walls. 
Vil
-Miss beauty queen himself. We love Vil, we Stan Vil, we adore Vil… 
-Oh my god he’s a pain in the ass though, especially for you.
-He sees through you in an instant.
-Truly, Vil finds you to be more of a little pest than anything.
-You are constantly in trouble, you are magic less, and you decided to needlessly hide your gender.
-The last one is the worst offense in his eyes.
-Vil is someone who does not value gender, but expression. Your gender does not matter as much as your expression, therefore you hiding your expression irks him.
-He’s understanding enough in the fact that he knows you might be doing this to protect yourself, but he finds it stupid and useless, because you’re easy to see through.
-He avoids you, and you avoid him. Simple as that.
-Unfortunately for Vil, you’ve caught Rook’s eye, which means he must sit through many hours of Rook rambling on about his “findings” about you.
-When you tried out for the VDC, he was simply going to turn you and Grim away, but Rook convinced him to give you a chance.
-Rook wanted him to help your reveal your “inner beauty”, though Vil wasn’t sure if you had any of that.
-You wore baggy, horrifically ugly clothing up until winter break. Your hair was constantly a mess. Your skin was poorly taken care of, and the bags under your eyes were as dark as night.
-It almost made him feel bad for you… so despite his better judgement, he decided to invest time in you.
-Vil makes it very clear that he knows what your whole secret is.
-“I am aware of the fact that you are a woman, however, I will continue to use your preferred pronouns since it seems to bring you comfort.”
-He’s very insistent that you allow him to do your skincare AND your makeup whenever you give him the chance.
-Especially when he moves into ramshackle temporarily, he’s very insistent on maintaining your skincare routine.
-He essentially makes your entire nightly routine himself, and is right there over your shoulder making sure you do it right.
-Despite how overbearing it is, you actually make good friends with him through this.
-Being stuck alone in a room with no one but him to talk to forces you two to talk.
-You get to learn why he cares so much about appearances, and he gets to know why you hide to protect yourself.
-“It’s just… easier to pretend, because guys will bother me less that way.”
“I can’t understand why they would bother you. You’ve done nothing to them, so why would they want to do anything to you.”
“That’s the thing, I don’t know either. I just know it’s scary, and I don’t want to deal with it.”
-You move him, honestly. You’re strong even though you’re scared, and that’s beautiful. Thats what true beauty is.
-He helps you embrace your inner self and express that, while still helping you to hide your gender in a way that feels safe.
-You are always welcome at Pomefiore, and you can come to either him or Rook if you have any issues at all.
-It’s like having a big sister, almost.
Idia
-Idia has eyes everywhere.
-Every inch of that campus is (illegally) being monitored by his watchful eyes. 
-When he’s bored in class, he flicks through the cameras to amuse himself — maybe he’ll see someone slip and fall on their ass. That would be funny.
-He’s not really interested in you in particular.
-In fact, he’d like to keep a very far distance between the two of you.
-You’re… intimidating. You’ve fought some of the most powerful mages on campus and won.
-Total final boss energy, not something Idia is interested in being around.
-What he IS interested in is that wittle kitty you’ve got following you around.
-When he’s bored in class, he goes searching for Grim, and where Grim is you are sure to be.
-So, despite his aversion to you, he ends up spending a lot of time watching you.
-He starts to notice… things about you.
-He notices that you seem to put on a tough guy persona around… well… other guys in your class.
-When it’s just you and Grim though? You’re the softest softie he’s ever seen.
-It’s top tier cringe watching you try to being all macho, so he much prefers your more quiet and relaxed self you show in private.
-Seriously though, you’re a TOTALLY DIFFERENT PERSON when you’re alone with certain people.
-EVEN YOUR VOICE CHANGES!!!
-It’s so uber creepy, it’s like a jumpscare every time you drop that fake deep voice.
-If he’s being real, you’ve got a pretty voice. Honestly, you’re really pretty period. Too pretty to be a guy honestly.
-…
-….
-…..HOLY SHIT!!!
-He has to check your medical files to be sure — which he obviously has access to, thanks to having access to everything Ortho has access to.
-Blah blah blah allergies, blah blah blah horrific injuries from overblots, blah blah blah- AH HAH!
-Next to gender you are listed as… transgender man.
-He doesn’t wanna be that weird transphobic incel, but from what he’s seen? He highly doubts that.
-From what he’s seen in his (invasive) watching, you’re definitely doing the troupe of hiding your gender to better fit in.
-He feels like he’s in an anime or something.
-He doesn’t really want to bother you about it — but from watching you, you seem like someone he’d really enjoy being around.
-Ortho also insists that he’d get along with you very well!
-…It’s worth a shot right.
-He tries several times to “bump” into you, which always ends in him skittering away in fear.
-He psyches himself out every time. “They wouldn’t even wanna hang out with a loser like me.” “They’re way too cool for someone as lame as me.” 
-It’s not until you invite yourself to one of tabletop club’s meetings that he’s forced to interact with you.
-He’s really banking on the fact that you’ll be too busy talking with Azul to notice him, but then Azul leaves and its just you and him.
-Him and you…
-Both of you… in total and complete silence.
-…yep… 
-“Uhm, Idia…?”
“yES!?”
“I came here cause I wanted to talk to you, sorry for being so underhanded about it, I just couldn’t get you alone without you running off.”
“AH— I mean, ahem, okay. My bad.”
-You totally cornered him like an evil villain.
-All because you wanted to… be his friend?
-Is he dreaming, going insane perhaps, did HE get isekaied into an alternate universe where he was likable???
-Nope, Ortho just talks him up a lot, and you think his hair is cool. Huh. Kinda lame compared to what he was thinking.
-You guys talk a LOT after that. You exchange numbers and you text him about all sorts of stuff — and he’s actually interested in it!
-You learn that he’s been watching you and Grim for a long time, and while you scold him.
-You think it’s pretty funny that he’s embarrassed about his love for cute things.
-“If you’ve been keeping your eye on me for so long, you must’ve figured out that I’m a girl, right?”
“Yeah, you’re not great at hiding it. That macho guy act is suuuuper lame, you look like a noob lol.”
“Hey! I’m just copying what Deuce told me to do!”
-You guys don’t really see each other face to face very often, but like I said you text a lot.
-Sometimes he’ll text you shit like ‘I saw that, saved it for blackmail.’ After you biffed your shit on the pavement or something.
-When Idia gets more comfortable, you two spend hours on call whenever you get the chance.
-He lends you some of his precious manga, and even gives you an older TV he had laying around so you can watch stuff at ramshackle.
-Sometimes he invites you over to play video games with him and Ortho, and he gets all cocky and proud when you gush about how cool all his tech is.
-And, yeah, Idia definitely forms a little crush on you — but he would do that regardless of your gender. 
-He just likes you a lot, and you can feel safe on campus knowing he’s watching over you when you need it. (Mostly watching Grim, tbh.)
Malleus
-We know that Malleus enjoys… creeping outside of Ramshackle.
-He spends quite a lot of time on your front lawn, therefore, he’s usually in proximity of you.
-However, he is very intimidating!
-As a young woman in a magical world that you are not from, a very tall man with horns is the exact opposite of what you want to be around.
-Besides, you’ve heard the rumors about him — how powerful he is, and how scary he is.
-Malleus, on the other hand, is admittedly curious about you.
-He finds humans in their own right incredibly interesting, but you are not just a regular human.
-You are a human who has no magic and is from another world entirely. 
-You are something he has never once seen in his whole life, so excuse his childish curiosity.
-Still, you’re sort of cleverly avoiding him at every chance you get, and he just can’t quite find the time to talk to you.
-Until one night, you come back rather late and you find him in your yard… again.
-You send Grim in by himself and decide to confront him by yourself, because you are tired of being afraid to fall asleep at night.
-“Hey, you, could you maybe not stare at my house in the middle of the night!”
-Oh. You are quite feisty, and very bold to approach Malleus Draconia with such an aggressive tone.
-“I’m unsure what you mean, I’m simply admiring the architecture.”
“I don’t care WHAT you’re doing, you’re freaking me out! I know you’re supposedly some big scary monster guy, but I need you to STOP being weird outside my house.”
“…My apologies…”
-Malleus is pleasantly surprised at your spunk — he’s never been spoken to like that, he’s excited by it.
-After you yell at him, you let him explain himself, and you realize he is just… really, really bad at socializing.
-He wasn’t watching you, he just really enjoys silence and ramshackle is the quietest place on campus — even with you living in it.
-So, you give him the benefit of the doubt, because he really does just seem like he’s lost on everything around him 90% of the time.
-You don’t hang out with him during the day, but if you happen to see him on your lawn (as he usually is), you go out and hang out with him for a while.
-It makes Malleus happy, because you treat him like a friend. You give him cute nicknames, and you invite him inside for snacks, and you go out of your way to say hello to him when you pass him in the halls.
-He also gets to know more about you, and his curiosities about you and your world get quelled.
-He doesn’t really question anything about you, especially not your gender.
-Gender is hardly important for fae, and you seem confident in your expression, so he has no reason to wonder. Besides, there are far more thrilling things about you than your sex.
-So, you and Malleus start to grow close. So close, in fact, that you can confidently say that he’s one of your closest friends.
-At this point, almost everyone who you want to know about your gender knows. Everyone but Malleus.
-Initially you kept it a secret because you didn’t know how good he was at not talking, but now…
-Now, well, you don’t really have a reason.
-People usually question you at this point, or at least seem suspicious, but Malleus?
-Malleus shows not a hint that he thinks something is up. It’s odd to you, isn’t he supposed to be super smart or something. Maybe he’s just too respectful.
-Regardless, you decided to talk to him about it the next time you see him staring at the gargoyles around campus.
-“Hey Tsunotaro, what’re you up to?”
“Just admiring these gargoyles here, aren’t they fascinating? They were the first few installed in the school, if my memory serves me correctly.”
“They are very cool, but could I ask you something not gargoyle related?”
“What is it, child of man?”
“You know that I’m, uhm, a girl right?”
“Oh. I did not know that, how interesting.”
-He doesn’t understand why you would hide that, but it doesn’t really perturb him that much.
-The most you got was an eyebrow raise, and then he was back to his gargoyles.
-You were pretty satisfied with that, so you figured he wouldn’t tell anyone… and then you hear him loudly talking about it with his friends in Diasomania.
-Sigh… he means well, but he just doesn’t get the social stuff.
-You’re not mad, because pretty much everyone knows at this point, but it still sucks that he’s such a loudmouth.
4K notes · View notes
rafeandonlyrafe · 15 days
Text
my aphrodite
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words: 900
warnings: 18+ only, smut, established relationship, husband!rafe, pregnant!reader, pregnancy sex but not really pregnancy kink, female receiving oral, p in v sex, unprotected sex, brief mentions of issues with pregnancy (just at the very beginning, its rafes anxiety)
“oh thank god you're home.” you rush up to rafe the second the front door shuts behind him.
“what's wrong?” rafe asks, eyes widening, thoughts immediately shifting to what could possibly be the problem. “is it the baby? are you bleeding?” 
rafe reaches for your stomach, looking over your body.
“god, nothing like that.” you shake your head. “the baby is fine im not fine though.” before rafe can interrupt you, you quickly continue. “im so horny, babe. like so fucking horny. my hormones are- god, like im already wet just from seeing you i need you to fuck me.”
“jesus.” rafe presses a hand against his chest, feeling how fast his heart is beating. “yeah, of course, let's go upstairs.”
“too far.” you grasp rafes hand, tugging him into the kitchen. you lean over the counter and flip up the bottom of your maternity dress, showing off your already bare and wet pussy.
“jesus.” rafe says again, this time his tone light as he laughs. “you really are needy.”
“do something. do something, im going crazy.” you plead, arms resting on the countertop.
your head drops to the cold marble as rafe gets down on his knees behind you, pressing his face between the opening of your thighs.
“oh, fuck.” you moan out as rafes mouth meets your pussy, smearing your juices across his chin as he eats you out.
what you can't see is rafe pulling his cock out of his pants, stroking himself to hardness just from your taste on his tongue.
rafe turns his attention to your clit, teasingly running the tip of his tongue around it in wide circles before closing in, pressing kisses to your most sensitive part.
“more.” you beg, and rafe is quick to listen as he sucks your clit into his mouth, both hands coming to hold your thighs now that he's sufficiently hard.
you let out a satisfied moan, glad to finally have rafes attention where youve been craving it all day, but it isn't what you truly want.
“fuck me. need your cock, rafey. need it so bad. want you to put another baby in me.” you whine out, knowing while it may not be possible, you need to be filled with him in every way possible.
rafe stands quickly, scrambling to his feet as he pushes his cock into you, moaning when he sinks into your wetness, soft and open for him as he immediately begins to push his hips forward into you.
“god, finally.” you squeal.
“next time just call me, ill come home from work to fuck you.” rafe laughs, watching the way your hands are gripping the marble, trying to find something to hold but only finding the smooth surface.
“maybe ill just tell the secretary im bringing you in lunch and you can fuck me in your office.” you laugh airly.
“except we both know you can't be quiet.” rafe grunts as he speeds his hips up to keep you satisfied.
“mhm exactly.” you smile, looking back over your shoulder at rafe. “remind everyone in your office that you're mine.”
rafe just nods. he knows no one has forgotten, not when you come in every other day to drop him off lunch, telling him how bored you are when he's not home and how much you desperately miss him.
you keep your head turned as rafe unbuttons his shirt, his hips still pushing forward as he lets the fabric fall from his shoulders, revealing his sculpted torso.
“you're like a damn greek god.” you moan out, finding your husband even more attractive now that you're pregnant with his baby, something you didn't even realize was possible.
“then you're my aphrodite.” rafe bends over your back, pressing a kiss to your lips that you graciously accept.
you let out a whine when he pulls away, only for rafe to quickly maneuver you, flipping you over and picking you up so you're sat on the countertop.
“need to keep kissing you.” rafe says, grabbing his cock and realigning himself with your pussy as his mouth dominates yours.
“god, yes.” you whine, pressing yourself as close to rafe as you can with your pregnant belly, hips at the very edge of the marble slab.
rafe takes over your entire body, pushing into your pussy while his mouth leaves you with no other room to think about anything other than him.
“i love you baby.” rafe moans, barely pulling his mouth away to talk. “you're so beautiful.”
“cum in me.” you whine. “please, need it.”
“yeah, i got you.” rafe grunts, putting all his focus into pressing inside of you, determined to make you cum.
he sighs with relief when he feels you squeeze around him, your pussy clenching as your high hits, entire body shuddering with pleasure as rafe allows the wall to fall as he moans out your name and cums inside of you.
“fuck! baby!” rafe shouts, pushing as deep inside of you as he can, it's not like he needs to worry about getting you pregnant when you're already filled with his baby.
“ah, shit.” you whine, laying back against the countertop, splayed out, maternity dress still pushes up, showing off your belly and dripping pussy as rafe carefully pulls out.
“come on, let's get you in the bath.” rafe scoops you up in his arms, biceps bulging as he carries you up the stairs.
“remember, no hot water.” you hum as rafe sets you down in the chair he dragged into the bathroom just for you, not wanting you to have to stand while doing your makeup or brushing your teeth.
“i know.” rafe laughs softly, having learned everything about pregnancy in order to help you. he leans down over the chair, hands on either arm. “but thanks for the reminder, beautiful.”
you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him back into another kiss. the bath will have to wait.
1K notes · View notes
naomiarai · 18 days
Text
𝔸𝕕𝕕𝕚𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕕 — 𝙻. 𝙷𝚎𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚞𝚗𝚐
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╔. ■ .═══════╗
➤ in which you’ve grown a liking to the roommate of the guy you tutor.
╚═══════. ■ .╝
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➤ PAIRING — heeseung × fem! reader
➤ GENRE — romance, smut, fluff, comedy if you squint, f2l, college au
➤ WARNINGS — mentions of drinking, dom! heeseung, big dick! heeseung, sub! reader, unprotected sex, pet names (baby, pretty), oral (m.rec), vaginal fingering, doggy, manhandling, lots of kissing, creampie, multiple orgasms, spanking, slight nipple play, kind of public sex?/ semi public sex. [ lmk if i missed anything ]
➤ WC — 6.6K
➤ AUTHOR — reblogs and feedback are appreciated! (not proofread)
➤ [ enha masterlist ] [ taglist ]
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You lift your head from the fiction book it was practically buried in, taking in your surroundings. The cafeteria was huddled with people, either stuffing their faces or babbling too much to care about their cold food. Reaching for your spoon, you fit the last of your rice into your mouth, chewing far too slow, with a sudden foul expression. You stare at Beomgyu, who weirdly stumbles his way towards you. What an idiot.
He makes his way to chair beside you, carelessly dragging it to sit down. You swallow expectedly, pulling a poker face. Beomgyu’s the last person you’d talk to, truly because he was a complete imbecile. The kind that if you were to tell him that he was one, he'd start fake crying and stick his very blue tongue out. (Yes he almost always has a blue fucking lollipop stuck in his mouth, and it TOTALLY irks you.)
Clearly not a big fan of him. So why would said Beomgyu come up to you?
He rotates his chair to completely face yours, letting out a deep breath; smiling at you uneasily. You arch your eyebrow, holding back a snort at how stupid he looks eyeing you.
“Uh..hi.. I’m Beomgyu, Choi—” he says; getting cut off by you before he could finish.
“Choi Beomgyu, I know,” you drawl. Who doesn't at this point?
He swallows nervously; eyes wandering away from yours, “Look, I know this is totally out of character for me, and I would kill to go back but, I kind of need your help” he whispers as if to make sure no one hears him.
Your face contorts into disbelief and confusion. Thats odd.
“Help? Why would you need my help?, don’t you have your buddies for that?”
Beomgyu's nervous, fidgeting with his fingers on the table. “Well, they could try, but it won't really help,” he confesses. “My grades are too low, I can't keep up the act of being okay, you know?” he mutters lowly.
You press your tongue against your cheek, getting what he’s trying to say.
“So, you're asking if I can tutor you?" you clarify, waiting for his nod. He quietly agrees. While tutoring isn’t exactly your specialty, you’ve given it a shot in the past. You could easily say no and leave him without help, but the opportunity to earn some extra cash is tempting enough to give it a go.
“Alright, what's the wage?” you ask in a relaxed tone. Beomgyu seems relieved, attempting to hide his grin.
“Thinking $10 per hour?” he suggests tentatively.
“Not quite what I had in mind,” you respond, unimpressed. Come on Beomgyu, you’re pretty loaded.
“How about $15?” he proposes without hesitation.
“Hmm, on second thought..”
“$25!” he interjects, irritation creeping into his voice.
You smile, content with the improved offer. “Deal.”
“Great, we can meet at my apartment, I just moved in last month; I need to be independent apparently” he says quickly. “Just a heads up, I have a roommate. I totally had to fight him for the apartment, so we’re rooming. He won't be a bother, we'll just have the place to ourselves in my room, he’s never home anyway”.
You nod in understanding and inquire, “Is he from around here?” Beomgyu nods and responds, “Yeah, his name's Heeseung, you know, the one thats’s boring AF?”
You take a brief pause, running your tongue over your lips as you wrack your brain for any sign of a Heeseung among your classmates. Surprisingly, you can’t seem to place him, which is unusual since you typically have a good grasp of everyone in your year. It's possible that Heeseung is just someone who prefers to stay under the radar, which might explain why you haven’t heard of him.
“Weird, I don’t know a Heeseung in our year” you say with confused tone.
Beomgyu shrugs nonchalantly, his eyes rolling in dismissal. “He’s always been like that. Anyway, I’m only still rooming with him because, well, he's almost never home and I can’t cook” he says, eyes bored.
The lunch bell rings loudly, abruptly halting your conversation. You glance at Beomgyu and manage a small smile. “I’ll drop by tomorrow; today's just too busy, you inform him. He gives a thumbs-up in response. With that settled, you start clearing your tray.
╰┈➤
Exiting the elevator, you walk down the corridor, each step bringing you closer to Beomgyu's door. He's waiting for you, his dark hair easy to spot in the hallway. You approach him, greeting him by waving your hand.
You quickly kick off your sneakers and step in, scanning the area with a keen eye. Everything looks neat enough, but the sight of a mop leaning against the wall and the freshly mopped floor makes you wonder. Did he just clean up right before you got here? Seems likely, considering he didn't bother to sweep before mopping. Looks like cleaning isn't really his thing.
Beomgyu gestures towards his room, pulling you out of your thoughts. You follow him inside, and as you step in, you’re greeted by a burst of color. The walls are painted a bold red, adorned with pictures and posters of basketball stars and iconic moments. You can't help but admire the shiny pictures that catch the light, giving the room a vibrant energy. “Cool room” you say, feeling drawn to the bright atmosphere created by all the basketball themed decor.
“Thanks” he says proudly, glancing up at his room.
You glance over at him, smoothly pulling out one of the chairs positioned by the desk, then lowering yourself onto its burgundy red cushion. Beomgyu follows your lead, exhaling audibly as he takes a seat beside you. He picks up a book from his cluttered desk and flips through it, his brow furrowed in concentration. Eventually, he slides it over to you, saying quietly, ‘I don't understand this.’
Examining the content, you meet Beomgyu's gaze with a bored expression. “Beomgyu, this is really basic," you remark casually, flipping through the pages without much interest. You know you’re being fairly annoying saying that. But if Beomgyu wants you to tutor him, he’ll have to deal with it.He gives you a dramatic eye roll and clenches his teeth, interrupting you with a sarcastically sweet tone, “Can we just get to the point already?” You stifle a chuckle, nodding in agreement. “Alright, alright”.
After spending about two hours tutoring, you're ready to wrap things up. Despite Beomgyu's jokes sneaking in here and there, you feel good about how it went. Plus, getting paid $50 is a nice bonus for your time.
You lean back in your chair, letting out a tired yawn. “Well, I guess it's time to head out,” you mumble, reaching for your bag. Beomgyu nods in agreement, rising from his seat. Just then, the sound of the front door being unlocked catches you off guard, causing you to glance at Beomgyu for reassurance. He seems unfazed. Oh. It must be his roommate, Heeseung, if you remember correctly.
You don’t think much of it, heading out of his room towards the door, Beomgyu following close behind. Glancing at the hand holding the door still, you stop on your tracks, awkwardly waiting for this Heeseung to enter. The soft creak of the door’s release draws your attention, as your eyes meet his, times seems to momentarily halt. Were people supposed to be this good looking or was it the lack of love in your life? God, he’s mesmerizing.
“_______”? You hear Beomgyu say, as your mind cuts your train of thoughts. “This is Heeseung, the one I was talking about yesterday” he tells you as you nod quietly in his direction, eyes still fixated on Heeseung.
Heeseung eyes you up and down, humming when Beomgyu introduces you as the girl from class who tutors him. You look familiar. You smile shyly, legs heading towards the end of the door. But what you caught on his face just as you stepped out brings red to your cheeks.
He fucking smirked.
It leaves you pondering, as you mutter a ‘bye’ to Beomgyu, not bothering to look at him. What was that? Did he do that to fluster you? You shouldn’t overthink it. Maybe he does that all time. Whatever, you’re not going to dwell on it. But it does leave you with more enthusiasm to come over to tutor Beomgyu. You’ll hope the only thing you’ll do here is teach.
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It’s been about a month since you’ve been tutoring Beomgyu. You’re overall pretty satisfied with how it’s been going; you could see genuine improvement with him.
Other than the fact that you’re effort is going on the right track, you might also be taking advantage of your time there. Your suspiciously long ‘study breaks’ might have not always been for the said purpose. They might have been to make small talk with his roommate; when he arrived home earlier than usual. Or when the times up and you have to leave, delaying your departure so you can see his face atleast once a day. You can’t deny the attraction. Sure, the small talk might be slightly awkward but you atleast get to know him.
You walk out of Beomgyu’s room, on one of your so called ‘breaks’. Today's a good day. Heeseung’s home early!
You make your way towards the kitchen; you must say the counters are well done. They’re like a distraction if it gets awkward talking to him As the door to Heeseung's room swings open, the subtle movement sends a shiver down your spine, causing you to flinch involuntarily. You straighten up, hands crawling up a cabinet to find a glass for water.
You feel his figure behind you, somehow so close yet so far. “On break?” He asks, voice raspy. Must’ve took a nap. “Yeah” you mumble taking ahold of a glass. You turn around, drinking in his figure; oh fuck he’s in a tank top.
You almost stumble walking forward to fill your glass, just when you feel him grab your glass, “I’ll fill it for you. Grab me one too will ya?” he says grinning. Oh does he have to smile like that infront of you?
Nodding slowly, you walk back, getting another glass and handing it over to him. Heeseung mutters a ‘thank you’, proceeding to fill it up.
“Beomgyu tells me you don’t recognize me. I sit behind you in chemistry, silly , i was waiting for you to realise” he says with slight confusion laced into his words.
Your eyes become slightly wide, imagining yourself inside chemistry class. It ticks your brain. Of course, that’s why you must have looked familiar to him. “Right, sorry I never caught that”.
Before he can say anything you hear Beomgyu’s whiny voice calling your name, indicating it’s been far too long since you’ve been gone.
Now you’re on your way to Beomgyu’s again. It’s a Saturday, but he requested you to come. Just as you enter your cab, you hear the loud shrieking sound of thunder, indicating rain. Getting in, you sink into the cozy cab seat, the sound of rain tapping on the windows and occasional flashes of lightning outside creating a quite yet filled atmosphere. You gaze outside with a slight pout. It’s quite late as your leaving now, you hope the rain calms down by the time you have to go home.
Stepping out of the cab, rain pours down relentlessly. You dash towards the elevator, hands shielding your head from the downpour. Inside, you quickly fix your hair in the mirrored walls, hoping the rain doesn’t worsen. Looking into the mirror like walls of the elevator, you fix up your hair. God, you really hope the rain calms down.
The elevator’s soft robotic hum faded as you stepped into the familiar corridor, your feet moving automatically towards the well known door. With a sigh, you rang the doorbell, the sound cutting through the quiet. Taking off your sandals, you huff, waiting.
You hear feet walk up behind the door, unlocking it. But you don’t expect to meet eyes with Heeseung, white earphones stuck in his eyes and a song paused on his phone.
“Beomgyu’s not home..? It’s a Saturday anyway, you tutor him on Saturdays too? Geez” he says as you stand still, digesting what he just said.
Before you can answer him, your phone buzzes, a notification.
[Choi Beomgyu], 7:14 PM :
heyy im so sorry but uh i forgot i had plans today.. youve probably reached by now and its raining like crazy and I don't think its gonna stop so you can stay over for the night in my room, i’ll be at a friends’. use one of my tshirts or smtg. also heeseung's home so you wont get killed at night! again sorry!! </3
You internally roll your eyes. Seriously? But you can’t stay mad at him, he seems kind of genuine.
“I think I’ll have to crash here tonight,” you admit, your cheeks flushing slightly as you offer a tentative smile. As if on cue, Heeseung pulls the door open wide, ushering you inside with a dramatic gesture. “Beomgyu asked me to use his room, kay?” you explain, feeling a sudden surge of liveliness.
Heeseung chuckles at you, his eyes fixed on you as he watches you set down on your bag on the couch heading into Beomgyu’s room. You still feel captivated each time you enter his room; you wonder what Heeseung’s room looks like, you’ve only ever seen glimpses of it whenever he came out of it. Black walls or something.
You look around for his closest, quickly landing your eyes on the half-black, half-red wardrobe. Grabbing the handle and tugging it open, you start to look for t-shirts, thats’s something comfortable. And maybe some shorts as well. Yeah, you might look a bit awkward in it but it’s just for one night.
You frown your face, unable to locate any t-shirts. God, where does this man keep his things?
“What’re you looking for so interesting?” you hear a familiar voice say, flinching at it. You turn around to find Heeseung, arms crossed leaning against one of the open doors of the wardrobe. Dangerously close to you, you must say.
“B..Beomgyu asked me to use his t-shirt or something for the night” you explain, licking your lips. “But I just can’t find any”, you say with a annoyed sigh.
Was it just you or did you imagine the look of distate on Heeseung’s when you mentioned wearing Beomgyu’s t-shirt?
“They’re all in the wash, the idiot probably forgot, use mine,” he tells you, staring into your eyes with miniscule smile.
You can’t help but feel shocked by his offer, causing your heart to beat faster. It may seem insignificant, borrowing clothes, but it’s Heeseung. Your voice feels trapped in your throat, a rush of excitement running through your veins. It just feels special when it comes from him. But you definitely can’t say no, can you?
You reply in a quiet voice, trying not to seem overly enthusiastic, “If you’re completely sure...” He responds with a gentle smile while gently tugging at your wrist. Surprised by the gesture, you let out a soft gasp but ultimately decide to go along with it.
Entering his room, directly opposite Beomgyu’s, the matte black walls catch your eye, imbuing the space with a sleek, modern vibe. The abundance of books scattered; if arranged with proper shelving and space could make a pretty mini library.
As you find yourself in the midst of his room, you can't help but admire the coolness of both of your rooms. “You guys have such cool rooms” you exclaim, watching as Heeseung frantically searches through his closet. You hear his echoed chuckle as you walk towards him, taking a peek at his closet. He seems to have just destroyed its neatness. But you do notice the many t-shirts laying flat and wrinkled on the floor.
“There’s a like a billion one of those t-shirts you’re searching for on the floor, Lee” you tell him, bending down to pick up the two you see. “And a pair of shorts too” you add. Heeseung hums in response with a grin, sighing as he pulls out a pretty white t-shirt and a pair of black shorts. Certainly a little too big for you, sure as hell comfortable. Plus it’s Heeseung’s, makes it all the better.
He turns towards you, holding the t-shirt out in display. “I think you’d look nice in this” he tells you trying to contain a smile sheepishly. Did he do all this searching, messing up his well organised wardrobe, just because he thought this one specific one would look good on you? You would kiss him if you could right now.
You try to stay calm, trying to hide your eagerness as you thank him softly, taking it from him. Turning around, you move to leave; but stop on your tracks when you feel his hand on your wrist stopping you. Instinctively you look back, Heeseung’s face mere inches away from yours. If you moved any closer, your lips would touch his. And you don’t know if that’s a risk you’re willing to take.
“You forgot this” he says,handing you the black shorts, brown orbs still looking into yours. You feel some sort of relief when he says that, quickly taking it from him. “Right” you say in response walking away.
As you walk away, you think about what just happened; would he have kissed you back if you did first? Does he like you like that? Or is it just some occurring tension between you two? You don’t know but you’ll let it play out like this.
Standing before the bathroom mirror, you take a moment to appreciate the comfort and loose fit of your attire. The t-shirt drapes effortlessly over your torso, offering a snug yet relaxed feeling. The shorts fit good at your waist too, thanks to it being elastic. Heeseung was right about thinking it’d look good on you. And again, it’s his.
You step out of the bathroom, slowly walking your way into the living room. You spot Heeseung on je couch, a video game console in his hands and eyes fixated on the TV screen. Stopping on your tracks you watch him, completely not noticing you. From what you’ve seen, he’s not as boring as Beomgyu has told you before. You see a second console on the coffee table. It’s so obvious they play together.
“Mind if I join in?”, you ask, your voice brimming with excitement as you make your way over to the couch where he's lounging. With a playful bounce, you settle yourself down right beside him, looking over at him.
His eyes roam over you, and you feel your cheeks heating up. Is he pleased with how his clothes fit you, or does he see something off? Heeseung’s gulp breaks the tension, and he meets your gaze once more, leaving you uncertain about what his look truly means.
“Do I look weird or something?” you say, laughing awkwardly. Please say no.
He almost immediately denies your assumptions, “No, fuck you don’t,” he says swallowing once more, “You look..good, that’s all” he continues. No, that’s not what he wants to say. He thinks you look hot. But best left inside his head. You internally sigh in relief, thank god. Resuming back to what you said, you ask again giggling, “So can I play?”
He nods his head in agreement, grinning. Bending over to grab the other console, you shuffle into a comfortable seating position, hands on your knees. “Good luckkk” you drawl with confidence. Heeseung scoffs at you with a smile, he’d kiss that attitude out of you but he'll watch you play for now.
“I’ve experienced Beomgyu storming out in anger because he didn't win like five times in a row,” he tells you with a cocky smile. Alright, skilled gamer Heeseung. Although your confidence may have wavered, you refuse to let it affect you. Your main goal is to enjoy yourself during your time here.
“Beomgyu acts like you’re so boring, yet he seems to have pretty good friendship with you” you say softly. Heeseung hums in response, “It’s because I only play with him sometimes, not really so often. He’s just over-dramatic, really” he brushes off.
You nod in understanding, “Let’s play then, shall we?”
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You don’t think you’ve ever laughed this hard at someone’s face before. Heeseung’s face when you swiftly went past him and won the game has you breaking into peels of laughter. His face is truly priceless.
“Did that hurt your ego?” you say between soft giggles. Heeseung stares at you, holding back a grin. The way you feel confident after winning over him, entices him; He wants to ruin that confidence, he wants to ruin you. “Beginners luck” he replies instead. You continue to giggle at him, laughter dying down as silence pierces through. It’s peaceful, not awkward at all as the both of you sit in the rather calming quietnesss.
The quiet room suddenly got noisy with your unexpected hiccups. You felt them like tiny jumps in your chest, making you stumble as you hurried to the kitchen, your steps clumsy against the relentless spasms. Opening up the very familiar cupboard, you tap against its inner floor, reaching for a glass. Gasping quietly as you land your feet from tip toeing; you lick your lips, turning to go fill it up.
You’ve always liked this kitchen. It gave you a feeling nostalgia; having such a similar one back at your parents house.
“You enjoyed winning so much didn’t you?” Heeseung says with amusement lacing his words. Gulping down the last of your water with an uncontrollable smile, you nod at him. You like having him slightly worked up. It’s entertaining.
Heeseung walks over towards you, suddenly caging you with his arms. Your hands instinctively grasp at the counter behind you, eyes darting down. His eyes look into yours sharply inching even closer, if you went just a little closer, your noses would touch and at that point you should just kiss. Temptation clouds your mind and ball of confidence strikes you; retrieving your hands from the counter, you pause before connecting your lips to his.
His lips freeze against yours; certainly was not expecting you to do that. But as soon as he hears your soft whine, his arms that once surrounded the space around you, grabbed at your waist. The soft feeling of his lips on yours melts your body into desire, but before you can fall under it, you pull away.Heeseung groans just as you cut contact, looking at you with an puzzled expression. What are you doing to him? You give him what he wants and blatantly take it away. That’s the game you play huh? You tip toe, bending your neck over his as you take a peek at the wall clock fixed in the living room, just next to the kitchen. 10 PM it read. Time does fly when you have fun.
“Sex this late night ruins my sleep” you tell him with a fake pout plastered on your face. “Maybe next time, Lee” you add on as you cup his face, only to kiss his cheek before slipping away out. Heeseung freezes, shock etched across his features as he replays the scene in his mind. He grapples with your intentions, wondering when this “next time” will occur. It’s clear you’re pushing his buttons, you literally kissed him for a hot minute and left him helplessly hanging. You’re good at switching up aren’t you? If he has to play this game to put you in your place, then so be it.
All confidence that resided inside you vanished as soon as you closed the door to Beomgyu’s room. God, did you actually do that? Your ego definitely seems to spike sometimes. You don’t know if you regret it; from the sheer look in his eyes and searing kiss, it was obvious he liked you too. You just might have left quite an impression on him, it was bold of you. The future of your actions lay flat for tomorrow.
You wake up to the noise of the front door being opened, assuming it was Beomgyu, you rub your tightly closed eyes open. Having slept fairly well last night, you quickly got out of bed, arranging the sheets neat. This wasn’t your bed or home to leave untidy, like you occasionally do. Although you think Beomgyu is no better than you.
Walking out you see Beomgyu, helping himself to a cup of ramen. You’d like some breakfast before you leave.
“Hey, got another cup?” you ask with grogginess evident in your voice. Beomgyu finally takes a look at you, pausing at your question for a few minutes before nodding. He turns back momentarily to grab another cup, sliding it over to you. You can’t help but turn your eyes over to Heeseung’s room. Is he still in bed?
“Where’s your ‘boring’ roommate?” you ask him with a hint laughter in your voice. Beomgyu gives you a sarcastic roll of his eyes, “He left for the gym right as I came in” he says replying to your asked question. Oh. You guess the only time you’ll see him again is on Monday.
Finally pouring in the hot water, you close the cup with the paper lid, waiting. As you sit waiting for your meal, lost in your thoughts, your mind wanders aimlessly. Suddenly, a sharp gasp escapes your lips as your attention is abruptly pulled back to reality by Beomgyu, who has made an odd noise while pointing his index finger in your direction.
You look at him with a confused expression, “I thought I told you use my t-shirt? That’s not mine” he says, staring at you for an answer. Halting for short second, you reply back “I looked through your closet, and Heeseung told me that they were all in the wash, genius. So he lent me his”
Beomgyu looks at you with squinting eyes, processing all what you said before he casually hums. Opening your lid back up, you mix your noodles before going in for a much needed savory bite, humming in delight you look up with happy eyes.
“So, What did you do last night?” Beomgyu questions, inching his elbows closer to you. The question is harmless and innocent if you view it the way you should, but in your case, there are only two things memorable — winning over Heeseung and kissing Heeseung. You can’t help smile internally remembering them, you still feel the feeling of his lips on yours if you think about it long enough.
Beomgyu waves his hand infront of you, as to pop your thinking bubble, “R..Right, yeah, I didn’t do much, just played some video games and went to bed, that’s all” you answer stuttering slightly at your words.
His eyes light up at the mention of video games, a grin fighting for freedom on his face, “Who won?” he asks enthusiastically. You’re sure Beomgyu’s hoping for you to say that you had won, recollecting that he always lost to his skilled roommate. Licking your lips in a swift motion, you press your lips together in a tight smile, gazing at Beomgyu.
The look on your face is all he needs to let out a sigh of happy relief, “Fuck yes! Somebody actually beat Heeseung” he exclaims with delight offering you a high-five, which you gladly receive. Slurping up the last of your breakfast, you walk over to throw in the trash informing Beomgyu on the way that you’ll head out after changing back into your clothes from last night.
As if remembering something important, he calls you again, “ _______!, just wanted to let you know, I’m hosting a party at my parents’ place on Monday you know, since the semesters about to end. And they’re not home anyway. Your’re invited if you’re up for it” he blurts out.
“Who's gonna be there?” you question, intrigued.
“Like practically everyone; Yuna, the girl with red glasses, Heeseung, me, duh and—
“I’ll be there, send me the address” you cut him off, rushing back inside and change before you leave.
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You apply a coat of rosy lip gloss, pressing your lips together with satisfaction. You look good tonight, clad in a snug black mini skirt paired elegantly with a delicate white lace tube top and your hair down in waves. The top showcases just the right amount of skin, accentuating the look of your slender silver chain. It’s both sexy and cute.
The party’s at 8 PM, and you’ll be just on time if you leave right now. You take one more good look in your full length mirror, nodding to yourself, before finally heading out.
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You stare in awe at the house the party resided in. It’s truly beautiful, and big. The lively music and joyful voices coming from inside indicate that Beomgyu has invited a lot of people. It’s clear he’s gone all out to make sure everyone has a great time tonight. You enter with a soft sigh, clutching onto your baby pink handbag. The music is loud but quite enough to hear people talk to one another. Your eyes scan around the area; looking for Beomgyu. The large table with drinks catch your eye as you spot Beomgyu sipping on a can of beer.
He locks eyes with you as you make your way towards him, managing a small smile.
“Oh my god, you’re like two minutes late” he exclaims dramatically, holding up his phone in the which glowed ‘8:02 PM’. You give him an unimpressed look. That seems to shut him up as he gives you a small pout.
You grab a can of beer from the table, popping it open and taking a sip.
“C’mon, I’ll give you a house tour, you’re probably the only one who hasn’t been here” he tells already walking ahead.
You faithfully trail behind him as he leads you on a tour through each luxurious room, offering short descriptions of their purposes. The surroundings are nothing short of extravagant, soaring ceilings, intricate architectural designs, and an abundance of totally unnecessary paintings on the wall. The overall aura of the place resembles a palace, filled to the brim with people.
As you both progress down the hallway, the fading music suggests you’re approaching the final room. Each room you’ve passed has been bustling with at least five people, engaged in drinking, sleeping, or playing some sort of game. However, between all this, Heeseung’s absence stands out. You’re left to ponder where he is : Either he dipped out on coming or he’s inside the room you’re just about to enter.
Beomgyu gestures towards the door, softly remarking, “And here’s the last room, my childhood sanctuary.” With a gentle click, he swings it open, revealing a truly elegant space. Stepping inside, you instinctively search for Heeseung, your gaze finally settling on him. He acknowledges Beomgyu, waving at him before he buries his gaze on you.
You look away as soon as you make eye contact, pretending to observe the room instead. Other than Heeseung there are few other guys in the room, they’re all sitting on the bed; probably chatting before you came in.
“What are ya’ll doing just talking? The drinks are downstairs, come down!” Beomgyu tells them with annoyance evident in his voice.
“I’ll stay, not in the mood to drink right now” Heeseung mutters, his eyes still fixated on you. Beomgyu looks at you with bored eyes as if silently letting you know that the person who just spoke is infact really boring. You give him a small giggle before telling him that you’d come down in a bit too. You just might have a little talking to do. Beomgyu gives you an expression of ‘you too?’ before leading the other guys out down with him.
As soon as you turn your head from watching them leave to head down, you slightly flinch at Heeseung walking past you to swiftly lock the door. Safe to say you’re not surprised. You slide your handbag off your shoulder, mounting it on a nearby shelf. Just then you feel a gentle tug at your wrist and immediate contact with Heeseung’s lips. You halt for a second before you wrap your hands around his neck, pads of your fingers pressing into the nape of his neck.
His lips feel just as soft as the first time, addicting you must say. He seems just as eager as you are, slyly pushing his tongue inside your mouth with a grin you could tell he had on. You whine into his mouth, signalling him to pull away to breathe. He pulls away slowly, a string of saliva connecting your lips as you pant heavily. God you really need him right now. His eyes look into yours as you giggle at the lip gloss smeared over his mouth. He looks at you amused as you wipe then gloss off with a focused stare.
“What happened to ‘sex ruins your sleep at night’ ?” he asks you mockingly, running his hands over your ass.
“Your dick’s hard” you retort, hands coming down to palm his cock. He hisses as you do so, mumbling a curse.
“I’ll just go fuck another girl” he tells with a smirk, eager to see your reaction. He’s really trying to piss you off huh?
“No you fucking won’t” you tell him with a laugh, connecting your lips back together. He dosen’t complain, immediately melting into the kiss as you still rub his hard on, making him moan into it. You don’t think you’ll ever get over how good his lips feel against yours.
“That’s right, so suck me off will you?” he says against your lips.
And that's how you end up on your knees, holding onto Heeseung’s thighs tightly while he thrusts his big fucking dick into your mouth. You eagerly suck and twirl your tongue around the lower part of his shaft, making sure to cover it with your saliva. The grip on his thighs becomes even tighter as he pushes his cock deeper into your throat, his mushroom tip brushing against the back.
“J..Just like that baby, god you were made for this” he rasps with eyes closed shut, fingers caressing your hair. You let out quiet moans against his dick, your panties progressively getting wetter. You’re desperate for him inside you.
Continuing to suck him off, you decide to tease him a bit, after all he is, so close to coming. You pull off his dick, retrieving your hands from his thighs and grabbing at the base of it and giving his red tip kitten licks. He groans at loss of your mouth, eyes glaring at your doe eyed ones. “Don’t fucking tease or you won’t get to cum later” he warns you. The thought of not cumming when your pussy was dripping and pulsating like this sent shivers down your spine.
You almost immediately stuff his cock back in your mouth; but you pause when you feel feel Heeseung’s hands gripping your hair, fucking your mouth. It’s sloppy and messy; you feel hot tears well up at your eyes, falling down endlessly as he continues to fuck your throat deep.
“Thats’s a good girl, fuck, ’m gonna cum” he moans, his movements in your mouth gradually easing as he releases his warmth down your throat. Heeseung breathes heavily, his eyes widening with a smile as he gazes at your exhausted expression; cheeks flushed, eyes watery, and most likely a very wet pussy. He bends down to pick you up again, mounting you on his lap as he lifts your skirt, fingers dipping into your soaked cunt.
You whine into his neck, feeling him move your drenched panties to the side, filling your cunt with two of his fingers, sinking in and out of you painfully slow. Heeseung chuckles at your whimpers, finding them cute as he adds a third finger, picking up his pace. He starts pressing wet kisses into your neck, sucking on the shell of your ear which only fueled the building pleasure inside of you.
“Hah—! please, wanna cu..m gonna cum” you groan into his neck as you cream over his fingers, knot in your stomach free as you relieve your high, hugging Heeseung tighter. He brings up his coated fingers up to his mouth, licking them clean.
“Need to fuck you now, but let me eat you out next time, yeah?” he whispers into your ear, as you finally look at him again placing a kiss on your lips. You hum in response, a slight gasp escaping your lips as he flips you on your stomach, ass up in the air; removing the your skirt and sticky underwear. He takes a moment to look at your glistening cunt, slightly swollen from your previous orgasm.
You want to say something you know you shouldn’t, because one, it’s way beyond the truth and two, not when he has you under him like this, no control over him and pussy ready for him to slip into. But you like pissing him off and getting him worked up. Just as you feel his dick poke at your entrance, you whisper, “Small dick”.
You may have said it in a low voice but the way you feel Heeseung stiffen up behind you only confirms he had clearly heard it.
“Oh yeah? Enlighten me on the girl who was fucking choking on this small dick not so long ago” he spits out with amusement lacing his words, cock slipping into your folds whole without notice. You let out a string of choked moans, words breaking down into nothing as he pounds into you relentlessly. Falling face down onto the sheets, you tug on them tighter, body jerking and thighs shaking. To say he felt good buried inside of you was a huge understatement.
He hold your hips tighter, cursing at how you clench down at him each time he goes deeper into you.
“Look at you, cunts sucking me in so good, been desperate for my cock haven’t you?” Heeseung growls with a cruel laugh, leaning down to suck on your back as he still fucks into you. You don’t answer, mind fogged up with cock ruining your pussy as your eyes roll back. One of his hands pull you back up, then grabbing at your bouncing tits, rubbing at your nipples.
He slaps your ass, eyes watching it jiggle with each pound he gives. “Fucking answer me” he demands you, only making you moan louder as you feel his tip brutally hammer at your cervix, pushing you towards the edge.
“Yes! hnng!— fuck yes! gah- please” you blurt out, the need to cum again building up fast.
Heeseung lets out a shriek, cock swollen inside of you as he fills your cunt up with his cum. But he still fucks into you, getting you closer to your high. The way he filled you up only tightened the knot inside you, squirting out on his cock and coating. Your vision sees white as you pant heavily, head throbbing.
Heeseung slowly moves your tired body onto his lap, picking you all over your face as you get back into your senses. “What a way to finally say I love you” he tells you, kissing the crown on your head. You giggle at him, feeling a strong sense of euphoria rush through you.
“I’ve always liked you” you tell him, looking away and playing with his fingers. He chuckles at you, placing another kiss on your lips. “Good, I had a thing for you too” he whispers into your ear.
Suddenly you hear a stiff knock at door, you jolt up in surprise, “Can you please open the fucking door? I need to piss! All the others are occupied!” you hear Beomgyu’s voice outside, desperate to get inside. It makes you realise you literally fucked on his bed, and totally messed up the cheeks. The thought of cleaning it up burns red into your cheeks.
You look up at Heeseung, as if asking what to do. But with the grin he has on his face says otherwise.
“Wait just a little more, I’ve got to make _______ cum again!” he screams out at the door slyly spreading your legs again.
You don’t think Beomgyu has to use the bathroom anymore.
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