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#fingers crossed things slow down soon
playinxwithxfire · 2 years
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[ So sorry to have fell off the face of the planet the last few weeks. I’ve been stupid busy and anytime I have free time I’m too tired or uninspired to write any sort of decent reply. ]
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dadbots · 11 months
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Whimsical adventures of (May)hem… and hello, June!
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gyuwoncheol · 7 months
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Room Service
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↳ A part 2 to 15 Minutes
Pair: Scoups x f!reader
Genre: Smut, Concert!Cheol, husband!Cheol, dom!Cheol, 18+ only (MDNI).
Summary: The only thing hornier than pre-concert Cheol is post-concert Cheol. Lucky for you, you’re the only one in the world with an all-access VIP ticket to this immersive experience.
Warnings: Porn with plot, Concert!Cheol, dom!Cheol, daddy kink, breeding kink, big dick!Cheol, pussy drunk!Cheol, cock hungry!reader, so. many. orgasms., quickie sex, unprotected sex (stay safe, children), oral (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), lots of making out, creampieS, slightly public sex, dick riding, manhandling, pussy slapping (like once), use of color system, overstimulation, body worship, breast/nipple play, hair pulling, spitting, crying during and after sex (but it’s not a kink), dirty talk, use of pet names (my love, baby, princess, baby girl, angel), fluff at the end. Please let me know if i missed something, i can’t remember all the filth. Not thoroughly proofread.
WC: 4.1k
Author's Note: Did I get carried away? Hell yes. is this the filthiest thing I’ve ever written? Could be. Except the other wip I have also for Seungcheol might just beat it. Thank you so much again for the love on 15 Minutes. I hope this 2nd part lives up to it.
Author's 2nd Note: For new readers, you don’t have to read 15 Minutes as this can stand on its own, but it would make more sense if you did read it.
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“My good girl.” 
Seungcheol chuckled as he plunged deep into your cunt, his cock pushing through your mixed cum that you so diligently kept in as instructed, “so good at following instructions huh?” 
“Fuck baby, you’re so messy” Cheol cursed, mouth watering at the sight of your stored cum slowly dripping out of your hole as he dragged out his entire length until only the tip was in. You groaned when you felt globs of it trickle down your thigh, your husband’s large hand slowly pushing you down against the back of the couch. You felt him engulf you, his chest against your back, hot breath on your ears, “cat got your tongue, babe?” The man teased just as he thrusted his length back into you, causing more cum to overflow from your hole.
It had only been roughly 30 minutes since the concert finally ended, the boys doing all the post show rituals from changing clothes to shooting backstage content, and as soon as that was over, Seungcheol had all but dragged you to another dressing room, not even saying anything as he unzipped your jeans and dragged your very soiled panties down. Not that you were surprised though, post-concert was always when Cheol was the horniest, with all that adrenaline still pumping through his veins.
You could feel the prominent vein on his cock drag through your walls deliciously as he alternated between slow and fast thrusts, an arm snaked around your torso while hot phrases flew from his mouth.
“Fuck, pussy so tight.” 
“All mine.” 
“I’ll give you all my babies.” 
“Gon’ pump you full.” 
“My good girl so desperate for cum.” 
“Cheol!” You screeched in between moans when you felt him hit that sensitive spot particularly rough.
“Did you watch me tonight, baby? Why weren’t you in the stands?” He asked suddenly, as if he wasn’t still railing you from behind.
“C-couldn’t g-go” you squeaked, willing yourself to form words when all you really wanted to do was whimper in pleasure, “had to… be— behave… fuck!” 
“Behave?” Cheol clarified even though he sensed where this was going. In all the times they rushed backstage in between sets, not once had you moved from your spot, sitting cross legged on top of the large black trunk cases situated right in front of the screen which broadcasted the events on stage.  “Words, baby” he said sweetly yet firmly when he saw you nod eagerly.
“Yes! Behave. Had t-to… k-keep.. shiiiiit,” you groaned, your elbows harshly rubbing on the leather material of the couch after another rough entry of Cheol’s cock, “keep da-daddy’s… cum… in me.” You finished off your defense and you could already see your husband’s smirk without even really looking at him.
“Aren’t. You. Such. An. Angel.” Seungcheol punctuated each word with a deep harsh thrust.
“And all yours.” You punctuated as you looked back at him, both your eyes glazing in lust. The loud sound of skin slapping skin and your pussy squelching at every thrust was unmistakable, the room smelled of sex. The group’s leader was sweating even more than he did when he got off stage, his warmth radiating onto your body as he kept you impossibly close to him, jackhammering his cock in your cunt. 
“Shit shit shit shit..” you cried out loud when his other hand suddenly rubbed fast circles on your clit.
“FUCK!” Seungcheol growled at your release, your pussy clamping down on him so tightly that it triggered his own. He stilled within you in an instant, bodies folded in half against the leather couch, your husband continuously muttering incoherent words as the feeling of your fluttering walls drove him to another level of cloud 9. 
“Yah! You two better eat already if you’re really planning to go all night” Seungkwan scolded in his best mom voice when the both of you entered the buffet area hand in hand.
You hid your face on Cheol’s shoulders, suddenly very aware of all 12 boys looking your way. They were very much aware of what you two had been doing and why you were doing it. In spite of the never ending teasing and playful disgusted looks they give their leader, the members had all told you they were excited for Cheol to become a dad mostly because it meant he’d get off their asses. 
“We’re actually going ahead. We’ll take a different car.” Your husband announced, a gentle squeeze to your hand when some of the boys howled at the implication of both of you going back to the hotel first.
“Really not wasting any time huh?” Soonyoung smirked despite having his mouth full of noodles 
“What? She’s leaving soon!” Seungcheol whined.
“Y/n still has a week left!!” Mingyu corrected with a roll of his eyes.
“Yeah yeah, still not enough!” Cheol replied. He gave a curt nod to Jeonghan, calling his name firmly as if to say ‘i leave the kids with you.’
“Hyung, seriously, you both have to eat.” DK was next to remind you both as he knows you’re both still running on empty stomachs.
“We’ll get room service,” your husband called out, inching closer towards the exit doors that would lead you to the vans.
“We hope it's the food kind! And maybe let y/n get some real sleep after!” Joshua’s reminder had you giggling, glad enough to know the boys still cared for you even though all you’ve done was hog all of Seungcheol’s free time.
Surprisingly, you had both managed to stay well behaved in the car ride home. If anything, you two were very sweet, your head resting on Cheol’s shoulders as he held your hand through the ride and absentmindedly played with your fingers. 
Even when you had both showered together in the hotel room, your husband did not try to make any advances, he simply cleaned you both up, even giving you a nice massage on your scalp when you lathered your favorite shampoo. 
Contrary to what his members may think, Seungcheol wasn’t too adamant about fucking you all night. He could see how tired you actually are and Mingyu was right, you did still have a week left with him. He just wants to make sure you are cared for like his queen this whole trip, whether that meant blowing your back or giving you 8 hours of sleep, he didn’t mind. 
“Tired, baby?” He asked as he secured the knot on your fluffy hotel robe.
You lazily smiled at him as you settled in bed, pulling him towards you for good measure. “I’m ok.”
“Hungry? Wanna get some food now?” 
“Want you to kiss me.” 
Seungcheol was taken aback by the boldness of your request, not because it was the first time you asked, but because you both have definitely done more than just kissing these past 72 hours. He smiled sheepishly as he climbed over you, settling on your side as his chapped lips kissed your soft ones. You clutched onto his hand on your neck, sighing happily when you felt him deepen the kiss. 
“Someone’s happy,” a low chuckle from your husband.
“Mhmm,” you hummed, “i love your kisses.” Despite the raunchy sex, there was always just something so nice and intimate about kissing your husband. His lips were always so plump against yours and the way he’d hold you securely always made you feel like you meant the world to him. 
“You’re so beautiful, i love you so much,” Seungcheol admired your bare face before sucking on your lower lip.
You moaned out an i love you too but it only got swallowed by the man who couldn’t get enough of you. You climbed on his lap, trapping him in between your legs, taking control of this little makeout session you were having. Inevitably, the more you kissed him, the more your hips moved on its own accord, grinding on Cheol’s robe-covered bottom half. 
You were moving erratically, wanting to chase a high you knew you needed if you were to fit Cheol’s dick again tonight. 
“Daddy, please...” you cried, annoyed that you just couldn’t get to where you wanted to be 
“Please what, baby girl?”
You whined desperately at the dangerously low tone in your ear, “please make me cum.” 
Record time is what you’d call it, the way Seungcheol went from flipping you over to casting your robe open to having his mouth suck on your clit harshly. You couldn’t even process it, all you knew was your throat was straining from how you were screaming his name with how he lapped at your cunt. His tongue licked bold stripes from your hole to your clit before he'd suck the sensitive bud. If there's anything Cheol has perfected, it's his hand-mouth coordination, the way he perfectly syncs his plush lips to suck at your clit while two fingers sink in you and curl to graze that spongy spot inside your walls. It should really have you embarrassed at how quick it could unravel the coil in your stomach. Your orgasm exploding in colorful bursts behind your eyes whilst soaking your husband's face in a mess. 
"I forgot how sweet you fucking taste," he groaned, slurping the juices leaking from your hole. He peeked up at you from where he was, your mouth agape and chest rising and falling while your fingers still gripped on his hair. You were hissing from oversensitivity but you should've known that post-concert Cheol was a starved man. When he deemed he had swallowed all of you, three fingers prodded at your entrance that had you arching your back from the bed only to be pushed down with your husband's free arm. "Stay still, baby. Daddy's not done yet." 
"Fuuuuuuck, " you panted, going delirious from the overstimulation your pussy was feeling. You writhed in vain as Cheol smothered your cunt like a full course meal. When you tried to squirm away, he delivered a slap to your pussy that sent shocks all over your body. "I'm cu- fuck! I'm cumming," you shuddered, thighs closing in on your husband's head. 
Seungcheol chuckled at your state, a proud grin across his face when he finally settled beside you. After pulling back to back orgasms from you in less than 10 minutes, he knew you were oversensitive and just needed to not be touched. "You okay, my love?" 
"Just.." you panted, "Just a minute." 
You rolled over on your stomach when you regained enough strength, and slowly but surely got on your wobbly knees to climb on your husband's thick thighs. Seungcheol wanted to squeeze your bare breasts but seeing as you were still slightly swaying, he decided to hold you securely by the waist. "what're you doing?" He mused while watching you fumble with the knot of his robe. 
His dick twitched at the sight of your lust blown, hooded eyes. "Daddy..." You smiled, god, you were so far gone, "Wanna ride you." 
Seungcheol moaned, hurriedly helping you untie his robe and throwing it to the floor. You salivated at the sight of his hard cock slapping against his stomach, red tip leaking with precum. Anchoring your palms on his chest, you kept your eyes trained on him as you sucked on your tongue before letting some of your saliva drool onto his length, your hand immediately gripping and spreading the fluid along his shaft, thumb grazing at the slit.
“Holy shit,” he cursed, hips bucking into your hand on instinct. A wicked smile crossed your face, delighted with the effect your actions had on him.
Cheol's eyes rolled to the back of his head when you finally let your pussy glide against his cock, coating it even more in your wetness.
"Fuck baby, what's gotten into you?" He hissed as you picked up your pace, grinding his cock against your wet folds, always making sure to let the tip kiss your clit when you move down. "So fucking needy for daddy's cock huh?" 
You moaned when one of his large hand squeezed your right breast and his dick leaked more precum onto his stomach. The sight of you, head falling back and mouth parted, was immaculate. He wished he remembered where his phone was right now, it would've been the perfect photo to take for him to get off on in the future. He committed it to memory as best he could, but even that thought immediately flew away when he finally felt you sink into his dick. 
"Oh my god,” you moaned in unison.
Seungcheol wasn't so sure if he was wincing from your nails digging into his chest or from the vice grip of your cunt on his cock, but either way, both felt like heaven to him. "Baby girl, you just came twice and you're still so fucking tight.”
"C-can take you, daddy. Please... p-promise!" You begged, lowering yourself to take in a few more inches of him. The stretch was familiar yet it still had you squeezing your eyes shut and biting your lower lip. 
Afraid he wouldn't be able to stay still any longer, Cheol took the matter in his own hands, sitting up to bring your chest flush against his, connecting your lips in a heated kiss to distract you from the pain. He still tasted of you and a slight hint of your minty toothpaste. When he felt you relax, his strong hold sank you onto him until he was fully sheathed. You broke from the kiss, head falling back once again at the overwhelming feeling of being so full. 
"Cmon, baby, thought you wanted to ride me?" He sucked on the column of your throat, causing you to swivel your hips. "There you go. You can do it." God, his voice was so sinful it made your insides churn. Another strangled moan left your mouth when his wet tongue made contact with your right nipple, licking and sucking before he kissed between the valley of your breasts, only to nip at your left bud.
"Oh my god, Cheol!" You pulled at his hair, wanting him to leave your sensitive breasts alone. 
He laughed dryly at your attempt but still allowed you that space. He let go of your waist to lean back with his palms against the mattress to have a full view of you. "Cmon baby," He spurred on, "show daddy what you got." 
Choi Seungcheol was simply left with no regrets at his challenge. His eyes almost turned completely black when you decided to fully bounce on him. When you found a good pace, you alternated between bouncing and grinding, one hand squeezing your breast as the other held onto his knee for support. "Fuck, daddyyy," you cried at the stretch, and he could just feel your pussy clenching on his cock even more.
"So fucking needy," he spat, "Can't get enough of my cock." 
You shook your head at his words, mewling when your clit rubbed deliciously at his pelvis and his engorged head kissed your cervix. "D-daddy.." 
"That's it, baby girl," Seungcheol cooed, bucking his hips up to meet yours, "get off on me, ride me 'til you shake. Need you to cum, princess." 
Encouraged by your husband's words, you lifted ‘til just the tip was in before sitting down on him harshly. He continued to praise you and how delicious your warm pussy felt, a string of very lewd words produced with every swivel of your hips. Your face contorted in pleasure and he knew you were close, "touch yourself," came his instructions.
"shit!" You cursed, cumming on the spot when two of your fingers rubbed against your clit.
Seungcheol beamed at how well he knew you, your tells and your triggers when you're about to cum. But what he didn't see coming was just how fast the sight of you getting off on top of him would quickly bring him to the edge too. If he didn’t catch it at the last second, he might have just spilled in you.
In one swift motion, not even pulling out of you, he flipped you on your back and trapped you under his weight. You yelped when he pumped into you, catching you off guard as you were still trying to ride out your own orgasm. 
"Ba-aby, fuck. You're d-driving me insane," he growled, "don't you dare fucking close your eyes. Keep 'em on me." 
Your fingers weaved through his hair, as you desperately tried to follow his instructions. If only he wasn't hell bent on reaching his high, Seungcheol would've laughed at how often you'd train your eyes to look at him every time they kept trying to roll to the back of your head. "Daddy's gonna fuck a baby in you, you want that, princess?" 
"Y-yes daddy! yes!" You mewled, both your legs being lifted up, calves resting on Seungcheol’s meaty shoulders, while he inserted a pillow below your ass. "Fuck me full, daddy, please,” a breathless request.
He folded you in half, planting his knees on the mattress and bracing himself on your sides. Seungcheol drove his cock into you, hitting you so deep that you felt him just below your cervix and you moaned the loudest that night. Strangled moan after strangled moan came out of your mouth while throaty grunts and curse words flew off from his, all this mixed with the explicit sound of your sweaty bodies colliding.
"m-more, daddy! More, please!"  
"Fuuuuuuck, you're insatiable, so fucking tight," Seungcheol moaned. His movements were rough, pulling out of you completely before fully slamming back in and going deep with every move. The sex was everything close to animalistic, you could feel him in the deepest parts of you, consistently hitting a spot that made your brain short circuit. "So needy for my cum, want to be filled so bad."
"Daddy, so- oh my god. So fucking big.”
“Princess, I-I’m.. s-so...close,” he warned, staring at your teary eyes while your hands intertwined behind his neck. Seungcheol buried his cock in you, not bothering to thrust out of your grip, instead grinding endlessly to help stimulate your clit against his pelvis.
"Cum with me, Cheollie. P-please."  
Your husband growled before his hips jerked twice, hot spurts of his cum painting your walls white. His eyes boring into yours and the feeling of being so full only triggered your own release, rendering you into a babbling mess. Seungcheol connected your mouths in a kiss, not caring that you were already out of breath. He interspersed them with praises of how good you felt clenching on his cock. 
"I love you, Cheollie." 
"I know baby, I know. I love you too," he breathed, hissing at how hard he still was despite just hitting his climax. His dick was almost painful in your tight hold, "give me one more, yeah?" 
Before you could even process his question, you were already flipped on all fours, whining at the temporary emptiness. "Wha- Cheol, I-" 
"Be good for daddy, yeah? One more, princess. One more to get you round and full." But who were you to deny your Choi Seungcheol? Your husband who was just as ready to start a family with you like he's always dreamed of. Your arms gave way when you felt him breach your abused hole once more, your limp body allowing him to control your hips even more. He was kneading your ass, surely leaving handprints in his wake. 
"Ch- ahh!" You cried in a silent scream, the pleasure you were feeling just devouring your every being. You could feel the goosebumps rise on you scalp and run to the tips of your toes as Seungcheol pounded you from behind. "Cheollie... Oh.. oh! fu-uuuck." 
He pulled you by your hair harshly, your back flush against his chest, the low rumble of his voice affecting your body, "Call me Cheollie again and you won't get to cum." 
"Daddy!" you whined apologetically, tears freely flowing down your cheeks. 
"There you go, not so hard huh, princess?" Seungcheol teased, an arm wrapping around your shoulders while the other cupped at your cunt. "Color, my love?" 
"G-green, daddy.. Pl-Please... just j-ust cum in me." 
"Fuck, you sound so broken... So greedy for my cum." Seungcheol relentlessly fucked up into you, until his pace grew erratic and bent you both forward. He stopped himself with his forearm to the mattress so as not to crush you, but with your muscles already weak, you simply face planted into the soft hotel pillows, drool and tears staining the white sheets.
"All mine," your husband chanted repetitively, stilling inside your pussy as it clenched around him tightly. Your orgasm rippled through you in a big tidal wave that Seungcheol could just feel your slick coat him anew. Your whole body shook uncontrollably, jolts of electricity alighting all your nerves. With one last loud call of your name, Seungcheol shot his load inside you, white ropes of sticky cum filling your cunt to the brim. His own thighs trembling as he finally collapsed on you, knocking out the little air you had left. He whispered i love you's to your ear, riding out his own orgasm which lasted longer than the both of you expected, especially when he just came a few minutes ago. 
In your two years of marriage, you don't think you've ever been this spent after sex, and neither did Seungcheol. But nothing catches his attention faster than the sound of you sniffing followed by a tiny hiccup. He moves up and pulls out of you so quickly that he hisses harshly, but you whine out even louder, causing alarm bells to ring in his head. 
"nooo..." you cry pathetically, your voice barely above a whisper, "come back."
"Baby, what's wrong?" Seungcheol pulls you towards him, eyes scanning your body for any abnormal pain, dreading the next few words out of his mouth, "did I hurt you?" 
You shook your head no, your hands grabbing at his chest to pull yourself closer to him and bury your face in his neck.
"Princess..." he started gently, still not completely sure if you were really okay. "I need your words. Need you to tell me if I hurt you." 
You choked as you tried to speak, voice straining from all the noises you've made tonight, but you were well aware your crying did nothing to comfort your husband. "I'm okay." 
"Was I too much?" 
"No. Never." You assured with a soft kiss on his chest. "So good to me." 
Seungcheol let out a sigh of relief at your words. "Wanna tell me why you're crying?" He asked, moving you both on your side so he could look at you properly, one hand soothing your back. His warm breath tickled your face, as he tried to wipe away your tears with the softest look in his eyes. 
You felt another squeeze in your heart while warmth crept up in your cheeks, both your hands instinctively covering your face when tears pricked at your eyes once more. You mumbled something but Cheol couldn't really understand and he didn't want to push, so he held you tighter instead, leaving kisses on your shoulder as his free hand brushed your hair. He could feel your tears wet his neck and shoulder and he willed himself to stay patient and calm. 
"I'm sorry," you squeaked after a long bout of silence between you two, "am I scaring you?" 
"A little bit," Seungcheol chuckled. 
You looked up into his eyes, wanting to make sure he knows he did nothing wrong, "I'm just overwhelmed," your voice began to crack again at the last word, "I... I just... I really want a family with you, Cheol," you sobbed, your hands attempting to cover your face again but your husband was quick enough to grab at them. His own cupped your face instead, a thumb wiping at your tears as he let out the brightest smile, his own cheeks dusted in a light pink shade. "I really want this to work, Cheol." 
"I do, too, baby but in our own time, yeah? If it’s for us, then it will happen one way or another. Let's not pressure ourselves too much. I don't want you to pressure yourself too much," your husband comforted, "Besides, with or without kids, I already have you... and Kkuma… you're already family to me."  
You were pretty sure you felt your heart grow a size bigger at his words, mentally thanking the heavens you had a husband who adored and loved you so much.
Your moment was cut off by the incessant buzz of a phone and when you looked towards the bedside table to check, sure enough your device was vibrating towards the edge. Picking it up to stop the ring, your eyes grew wide at the notification that flashed on top of the screen, a smile dancing on your lips as you comprehended the app’s words in black font.
"Cheollie?" 
"Yeah?"
"I'm ovulating."
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Feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated ☺️
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sxcret-garden · 18 days
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Ateez Reaction ღ Asking them to teach you how to fuck [M]
ღ Ateez all members x fem-bodied!reader (some parts can be read with a gn!reader though) ღ genre: smut reaction (best friend!Ateez x inexperienced reader), (implied) friends to fwb/friends to lovers in one part ღ warnings: mentions of alcohol consumption
Author’s note: This is definitely not what I had planned to write today but oh well :’) I hope you guys enjoy~
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Hongjoong:
when one day you somewhat shyly ask him if he would teach you how to please a guy he’s definitely surprised
but it’s also not like he sees a problem with friends hooking up? i mean - y’all know each other well and trust each other, so having sex shouldn’t be an issue
teaches you everything you wanted to know and then some more, until suddenly you can barely even remember that other guy who made you feel like you needed to practice so much anymore
he’ll be gentle with you, seeing how you don’t have much experience yet, and somehow he’ll end up pleasuring you first to help you relax
only when you’re about to cum on his fingers does he stop for a second to consider whether it’s really okay to go this far with you
but you’re enjoying yourself, and now you’re whining for him to keep going, so that’s what he does
makes you cum and then lets you rest for a bit, before he starts guiding your hands down his body
praises you for everything you do and gently nudges you in the right direction, until you have him cumming into your fist - but he won’t stop there
there’s just something insanely hot to him about having full control over what you do to him as he gives you instructions, and this is definitely also awakening some kind of corruption kink deep inside him
eventually you end up on top of him as he guides you down his cock and into a steady rhythm, having you ride him
and of course this becomes a regular thing between the two of you, both keeping up the pretense that you’re still just “practicing”, when really there’s a carnal need growing inside both of you that makes you always come back to each other for more
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Seonghwa:
the first time you bring it up to him that you’ve been wondering if he could help you practice having sex he feels conflicted to say the least
of course he wants to help you!! but this is about having sex with one of his best friends, and he doesn’t know if he wants to cross that line with you
but at the same time it’s also apparent that your question is affecting him when you can see his ears turn red, and eventually he has to get out of there for a second to get himself a glass of water sakdfjlks
“So is that a yes?” you ask him when he comes back, and he almost spits the water back out aksdljfkjsd
“I-I’ll have to think about it, Y/N…” he somehow manages to stutter, before he forcibly changes topic
he needs a few days to calm down about this, but once some time has passed he figures it’s probably not a big issue if he helped you out a bit, right?
you agree one a few rules like no kissing, no actual intercourse, but he’s willing to let you touch him otherwise
and so you decide to start slow, with a simple handjob, and he actually finds himself enjoying the way he can tell you what to do, gently push you in the right direction, plus the sight of having your hands wrapped around his cock just does something very sinful to him - so it’s no surprise that you don’t have any trouble making him cum
but now he feels the need to pay you back, and so you let him finger you, and his skillful touches throw you over the edge in no time
you do this a few times, until eventually you find yourselves growing more needy, and you end up sucking him off while he eats you out, quietly turning it into a game of who can make the other cum faster in your mind
needless to say, now that you started casually hooking up you won’t be stopping anytime soon
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Yunho:
he is SOSO flustered when you first ask him about whether he could teach you a bit about sex the first time and immediately says no aksjdklfsk
“Y/N, we’re just friends… shouldn’t you do that with an actual boyfriend?”
but you insist, admitting that you feel embarrassed about how inexperienced you are, and of course this guy reassures you that you’re fine the way you are, and once the right guy comes along he will surely be understanding with you
and as much as you want to believe his words, your insecurities prevail, until eventually you find an agreement that you can at least come ask him about stuff if you feel unsure about something so he could give you a verbal explanation
and you take him up on that offer pretty soon, simply because you’re curious kasjflkasdj
so when one day you ask him out of the blue whether guys prefer getting handjobs or blowjobs he’s a blushing mess first of all
“W-well, it depends on the guy…?” - so you ask him what he prefers and now he’s visibly uncomfortable
but he figures you’re just curious, so he tells you about how both is nice, it really depends on his mood, but he probably prefers a simply handjob most of the time
he loosens up a bit eventually, and as you continue talking about the topic and you ask him all kinds of questions, neither of you can deny that it’s affecting you
except nothing really happens afterwards, because you know he wouldn’t want to overstep that boundary
it’s only until a little later, when you’re both drunk at a party and he suddenly pulls you aside to tell you that he hasn’t been able to think about anything but what it would be like to have sex with you
and well, you pressing your body up against his does nothing to deflate that situation, and so you disappear in the nearest room where it’s just the two of you, and in no time clothes are flying off and your hands are all over each other
but despite the desperation that the both of you are feeling, he’s still careful with you, taking the lead as you spend the rest of the night fucking in that room
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Yeosang:
he has no idea how to react when you ask him to teach you how to fuck, so it’s just awkward silence for a few moments
until he offers to treat you to a few hours with a sex worker instead ksajdflkjs
and well, that’s not exactly what you had in mind, because the point of you asking him was that he’s someone who’s known you for a long time and who knows you well
“Ahhh, I see… then sorry that I can’t be who you want me to be, but no.” (why does he have to say it so dramatically fksdjkfas)
you’re of course a bit disappointed, but it’s not like you don’t understand him - not everyone would want to cross that line with a friend - so you leave it at that for now
until one evening you’re together at your place, and you can tell something’s off about him - he seems fidgety and like he’s anxious about something, so eventually you decide to ask what’s up
and he doesn’t really want to give you an answer at first, but eventually he manages to force out an explanation
“Just… what you said to me a few days ago… I thought about it again… and maybe we can try it after all?” - you two talk a lot so it takes you a while to understand what he’s hinting at, but once you do, you’re immediately by his side
you reach for his hand as you’re sitting side by side, and somehow both your nerves are making it hard to do anything
“S-so… how do we start? Do we kiss?” he asks, and you agree that that might be a good idea, and weirdly enough as soon as your lips meet his and you fall into an unhurried pace, both your anxieties seem to be washed away
you get into his lap, and somehow you both just end up following your instincts, only breaking the kiss to tell each other what feels good, and then eventually in order to moan at the way you dry humping him is about to get the both of you off
you’re taking this very slow, but it becomes a regular thing for you to meet up in order to have sex from then on, both exploring and learning about each other’s body as you go
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San:
another one who feels very conflicted the first time you bring it up to him
he doesn’t think mere friends should be doing this kind of thing with each other, but at the same time he can’t say he isn’t tempted
he says no at first, but the days after he just can’t stop thinking about you naked, on top of him, underneath him, you name it
until these thoughts start to haunt him in his dreams too, and he knows he can’t possibly be normal around you anymore if he doesn’t do anything about this
so he decides to help you out after all, under the premise that you won’t have any actual intercourse
instead, he teaches you how he likes to be touched with hands only, and eventually he also lets you suck him off
tells you exactly what to do that would drive any guy insane, gives you advice in between moans and at some point he will start rambling, until his high is coming so close that his train of thought just cuts off
and once he sees the state he put you in after cumming in your mouth - your glazed over eyes, his seed dripping down your lips before you lick it all up and swallow - he just can’t help himself anymore
“Shit, Y/N, let me fuck you, please,” he mutters, desperation in his voice
and as soon as you give him the okay this guy will be all over you, being rougher than you’d have expected him to be, fucking you as he’s led only by his instincts and his need to feel the warmth of your cunt wrapping around him
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Mingi:
he’s another one who isn’t opposed to having sex with a good friend
actually, he feels a weird sense of relief when you ask him if you could practice with him, because he feels very comfortable with you and so he knows he too will be able to let go quickly
you start slow anyway, because he doesn’t want to overwhelm you - seeing how you don’t have much experience yet - and so he’s even more surprised when you reach for his dick pretty quickly
you ask if what you’re doing is good, and as you’re giving him a few strokes this guy is hard in no time
will put his hand onto yours to guide you into the pace he likes, but very soon he’ll simply leave it up to you, wanting to know exactly what you would do to him if he doesn’t interfere
and soon enough his sanity will start to slip away, and when he starts bucking his hips into your hand the dynamic shifts ever so slightly, because suddenly you don’t seem so inexperienced anymore at all as you dare to tease him about how needy he is
lets you make him cum onto his stomach, before you call it quits for the day, but you’ll be sure to come back for more soon
he’ll let you get him off in all kinds of ways, until eventually you two start experimenting with anything and everything you’re curious about, all under the premise of “practice”
and soon he too will feel the need to return the favour and get you off too, learning all about how your body reacts to his touch, and figuring out together what feels best for you
you’re gonna spend whole weekends at his place just fucking, and in no time you basically know each other’s bodies like the back of your own hand
and it’s more than likely that in the process this guy actually falls in love with you, and even though it’s still a whiiiile until he actually finds the courage to tell you that, he will make damn sure you won’t even think about wandering off to someone else
“You’re mine, Y/N,” - the words will repeatedly slip past his lips as he’s fucking you, and surely enough they do something to you too
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Wooyoung:
you two tend to be very touchy to begin with - even though you’re definitely not in love he gives you kisses on the cheeks or your neck all the time, and when you’re having a sleepover you can be sure it will include a good amount of cuddling
so when one day he’s spooning you, focused on drawing random patterns on the skin on your arm, and you tell him that you’ve been thinking whether he would be okay with showing you how to properly please a guy he isn’t put off by the idea at all - though he is a little surprised, both because he was of the impression you had a lot more experience than you do, and because he didn’t think you’d ever consider him the right person to come to with a favour like this (like????? who else would be a better person??????)
and this guy is so gentle and respectful with you - he’ll ask exactly what you want him to show you, what you want him to do, will ask before whatever he does whether you’re okay with it or not,...
you just end up having really sweet sex as you help each other out of your clothes and you both get a little distracted worshipping each other’s body
there will be a lot of giggling as you slowly figure out what the other likes and what not, until you end up flat on your back, with his head between your legs, and suddenly all that light-hearted curiousity turns into a deep passion
he eats you out and makes you cum on his tongue multiple times, eager to please you and to see how many more of those sinful moans and whimpers he can draw out of you
until finally you grab him by the hair and pull him away so he would give you a break to catch your breath and to remind him that he was supposed to teach you how to do this stuff
“You asked me how to please a guy,” he replies. “This is how you please this guy right here.” - at this point he is absolutely pussy drunk, there’s no going back for him
will offer to get you off every single time you have a sleepover from now on (and mysteriously the amount of sleepovers you have is suddenly increasing drastically), but he will also exert some amount of self control beforehand and let you get him off too, before he makes you feel good
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Jongho:
the first time you very awkwardly hint at him that you’ve been wondering if he’d be willing to teach you how to fuck he simply laughs
until he realizes you weren’t joking
panics internally as all the times he’s gotten off while thinking of you flash him by and he somehow manages to tell you that you’re just friends and you should really reconsider this!!!
he never actually gives you a proper answer on that day, and neither of you bring it up until like two weeks later
you’re both chilling with your phones in your hands, having made yourselves comfortable on his bed as you often do when you’re at his place, when he suddenly speaks up
“So… do you still want me to… teach you a few things?” he asks, not taking his eyes off his phone, and you can feel the nervousness radiating off of him - but as soon as you say yes that mood instantly gets replaced with confidence
“Then come here.” - he goes slow to figure out what you’re okay with and what not, but when you throw your arms around him once he starts scattering kisses in your neck as he hovers above you, he knows he can’t hold back anymore
gets you off on his fingers first, before he guides your hand to his cock and shows you exactly how he wants you to return the favour
“Wanna go all the way? Cause I’ve been thinking about this…” he admits, and when you say yes he doesn’t spare you any details
tells you about what he wants to do to you, and lets you decide which of his fantasies you want to recreate, until you end up in all kinds of positions, having him fucking one orgasm after the other out of you, until it becomes clear you’re getting tired and you really can’t take any more
you’re both very awkward after this, to the point you act weird around each other even in front of your other friends, who start wondering whether you had a fight
but as things normalize themselves between the two of you, you meet up again at his place
you decided prior to that that what happened several days ago was a one time thing, and you wouldn’t do it again
or so you thought, because as soon as you find yourselves side by side on his bed again, neither of you can deny that the only thing you’re thinking about is continuing where you had left off last time
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yawnderu · 6 months
Text
Captain's Wife - John Price & TF141 x Reader
work starting to feel like I do belong in the kitchen 💀so here's some Price domestic stuff to keep me going until Friday so I don't lose my mind.
Content: small drabbles, fluff, domestic!Price, vouyerism, John ''I share my wife'' Price, TF141 x reader.
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I actually think about being Price's housewife quite a lot. Being a cute little thing he has waiting for him back at home, a domestic life for the first time ever, something he never even thought was possible.
He bought big house in the British countryside, just to make sure you're free from all the stress city life brings. Any hobbies you may have he fully supports and funds, giving you extra spending money on the side despite knowing you don't usually spend it, having all your needs and interests taken care of by him.
This man spoils you rotten without you even asking, having savings for years before he even met you and a good salary as a captain in the SAS. Anything you even glance at when you're out with him at the mall? Bought for you with no hesitation at all. Jewelry, clothes, lingerie; you don't lack any of those things when you're with him.
Any affection you miss while he's deployed is given to you once he's back, his fat cock filling you up in different positions, despite how tired he might be, he always has the energy to fuck his darling wife good. He always puts your pleasure first, making you cum with his fingers and tongue before he even thinks about putting his dick inside. His efforts don't come without rewards, of course, and it has become one of his favorite things to see you down on your knees, praising his thick cock and heavy falls, praising him.
Being a Captain comes with sharing many things with his boys- from gear, to his wife. The first time you're introduced to the boys, the thought of straying doesn't even cross your mind, fully loyal to your husband and simply happy to meet the boys he considers his family. It isn't until Price has you sitting on his lap with your legs wide open, forcing orgasm after orgasm out of you in front of the younger men that the thought of having someone other than him hits your brain.
John doesn't miss the way your eyes linger on the younger men. Soap shamelessly has his dick out, stroking up and down slowly, basking in on the sight of his captain fingering your soaking cunt. Gaz is more subtle about it, though eventually he can't ignore his boner, pulling out the prettiest dick you've ever seen and stroking it with more enthusiasm than the others, free hand massaging his heavy balls, begging for release.
Ghost is the one who takes the longest to give into it, ignoring his painful boner being strained by his jeans up until John is fucking you. The sight of your attractive body bouncing on his captain's cock is too much for him, legs spreading wider on the couch to adjust his boner until his hand hesitantly starts to rub his length over his clothes, shamelessly thinking it's him the one fucking you.
And that fantasy becomes a reality soon enough, once you're fucked-out and your cunt is ready to take more, nice and wet for the men he trusts the most. He has rules for it, of course. They can't fuck you without a condom, anything you feel uncomfortable with is off limits, and if you show any signs of discomfort, they have to stop. Soap only whined about not being able to fuck you raw, earning him a look that got him to shut up immediately.
Gaz is a gentle lover despite how excited he was, eating your cunt out nice and slow, plump lips latching onto your clit while your hand gently pushes the back of his head closer, a teasing ''patience, love.'' escaping his lips as he lines up the tip of his cock to your entrance, slowly pushing in and giving you time to adjust to his thickness before he's fucking into you slowly, making sure every thrust hits deep inside you. He switches positions a few times, settling in for the one that makes you moan louder, hands holding onto your hips as he fucks into you from behind.
Johnny is more eager, more... youthful, just happy to be able to fuck you. He'd never admit it, but he's had his eye on you ever since he first met you, wishing he was as lucky as his captain. He eats you out for the longest, messily sucking and licking all over your cunt, lips latching onto your clit, tongue swirling over it, your moans encouraging him to go for longer even when his tongue is tired. He's on his knees in front of the bed, one of his hands busy jerking himself off and stopping right when he's about to cum just by tasting you. H's not enthusiastic about putting a condom on, though he quickly forgets about his annoyance once he's balls deep inside you, hands holding onto your waist as he fucks into you, fast and deep.
Ghost is the only one who doesn't eat you out yet, being slightly uncomfortable about the whole thing and about being watched. John knows Ghost ever since he was Simon, so he tells the boys to go clean up while he too leaves the room, making sure to be within earshot in case anything happens, despite knowing he can trust Simon with his life. He makes up for it by fingering your cunt, long digits sinking into it slowly, brown eyes fully focusing on your expression to make sure you're enjoying every second of it. It takes a while before he fucks you, condom rolling down his thick length and making sure you're all nice and wet before hesitantly pushing in, holding you in a nice missionary while he thrusts in and out, his massive body caging you in and making you feel safe. The mask goes up halfway, giving you sloppy, inexperienced kisses as a reward for taking him so well. Simon is a talker when he's close, face seeking shelter into the crook of your neck as he praises you for being so good for him, for taking his cock so well and making him feel good.
Once the boys are gone, Price runs a bath for you, asking you if you enjoyed yourself and if you'd be interested on doing that again in the future. He presses gentle kisses to your forehead, warm hands washing your body with love and care, allowing you to fall asleep in his arms even when you're in the bathtub. He dries your body and puts you to bed after changing the sheets, a look of pure adoration in his eyes.
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6gumi · 9 months
Text
breathless.
synopsis ﹒jjk men giving you surprise kisses gone wrong (GONE SEXUAL!) that’s it. that’s the fic
pairings ﹒toji fushiguro, yuuta okkotsu, yuuji itadori, satoru gojo x f!reader
cw ﹒a little suggestive. not proofread (oops), makeout sessions kinda?, yuuji + yuuta aged up! slight vaginal fingering involved, dirty talk, petnames used ! (princess, baby, etc etc) you guys literally just make out n it goes wrong . . . do i need to say more ? <3
note ﹒sm thoughts sm thoughts sm thoughts !!! yuuji’s is the only fluff n innocent one LMFAO feel free 2 interact w me by sending an ask ! i’m still trying 2 finish up my requests so please be patient and know that only thirsts r open for now <3 — millie ! ♡
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୨୧ 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎
toji always loved teasing you, especially during makeout sessions you both would have occasionally. he does a lot and i mean a lot of things to tease you during them too, it’s unfair! he loved it whenever you had your arms crossed infront of him, eyebrows furrowed while you lectured him for his laziness. he merely just chuckled at your attempts to tell him off for being such a lazy jerk, slowly closing the distance between both of you. you can’t blame him, can you? it’s not like you wanted him to stop either.. it’s crazy how your voice and that irritated look in your eyes left him feeling light-headed. before he knew it, toji you in his arms, holding you just a little too tight. “hey! let go of me, toji. ‘m not finished saying what i wanna say—“ and.. there he goes again. a deep groan left him as his lips traced each inch of your neck, his entire body clenched as he grabbed your wrist. toji’s other hand buried itself in your hair, caressing and pulling at it from the back, interlocking his lips with yours..
god.. your makeout sessions always begin this way, but honestly you didn’t really complain. toji ran his hand up your body, wrapping it around your neck as she squeezed it lightly.. careful not to hurt you too much. his lips on yours was the sweetest torture you had ever felt in your whole life, your heart pounding against your chest at a furious pace as he held you closer to him, not letting go of you anytime soon. “sorry, doll. what’d ya say earlier? too busy kissin’ these pretty lips of yours.” “oh great, and you weren’t even listening too?” the raven just shrugged, a smug expression painted on his face. “dunno, just wanted t’kiss your lips, you talk too much princess.. needed to shut you up.” gosh, you could’ve sworn you felt a vein popping out of your forehead out of frustration, is this guy for real? “mm.. can i continue kissing your lips?” was all he said, a low sigh leaving your lips before you waited for him to kiss you again. “oh no baby, not these lips. i mean the other ones.” oh yeah, expect yourself to be breathless after this.. kisses or not!
୨୧ 𝐘𝐔𝐔𝐓𝐀 𝐎𝐊𝐊𝐎𝐓𝐒𝐔
yuuta can’t help it! he couldn’t help but admire you the whole time you rambled about a weird first interaction you had with his companion toge inumaki and how hard it was to understand him! thank the lord you didn’t even notice just how intensely his eyes stared at you, as if they were digging daggers into your soul. this is probably a constant thing for him, i feel like yuuta likes giving you shy surprise kisses out of nowhere! and sometimes, he can’t even control his body and they just smooooch your lips, atleast.. that’s what he says! he can’t help but grin every single time he sees that flustered expression on your face after he catches you off guard with his surprise kisses, he’s just trying to have after all. though sometimes he’s aware that, these “small yet shy surprise kisses” will turn into much more than what they seem. and you wanna know what they turn into? heated makeout sessions of course!
yuuta’s large hands rest on the nape of your neck, the other on your waist as he pushes you down the mattress with his weight, trying his best not to crush you completely with his body as his kisses were slow.. slow and passionate yet you knew that was gonna change in a few minutes or so, and you were right! in the blink of an eye, yuuta wraps his two hands beneath your thighs, lifting you up slightly so your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling the both of you closer and into a more passionate yet lustful embrace and kiss. the special grade sorcerer pulled away, chuckling when you puckered your lips a tiiny bit to taste his sweet lips on yours again, yuuta gave your jaw a small peck. “may i?..” the raven muttered under his breath.. lifting your skirt and tugging at the hem of your panties. just know that.. if you nod and say yes, oh boy. be prepared to stay up all night! those surprise kisses were a trap to kiss you until you were breathless!
୨୧ 𝐘𝐔𝐔𝐉𝐈 𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈
let’s see here.. to sum things up, yuuji loves giving you surprises kisses! and i mean loves it! he likes catching you off guard whenever he presses a kiss against you, your boyfriend gives you small little surprise kisses literally anywhere and everywhere, so much that you even have to tell him to tone down a bit because of how flustered you were! “but why, babe? i like kissing you..” he knew you liked it whenever he was affectionate so he would plant many many love kisses all over you nonstop! usually sometimes he even just gives you one when it’s unnecessary or so, kissing you on the cheek while you scroll on your phone.. kissing the nape of your neck from behind whenever you were in the kitchen, sneakily kissing your inner thigh from beneath the bedsheets, you name it! yuuji yawned as he wrapped an arm around your waist, scooting you even closer against him. “babe, can i kiss you?” no answer, you were too focused on that stupid movie you wanted to watch, he didn’t think you’d get this invested. the male gently put a hand on your thigh, surprise-kissing the blade of your shoulder with much desire and love.
anndd.. here you both go again.. on the couch as the room was filled with sharp heavy panting and lewd noises. yuuji’s hands grabbed onto your waist and moved you back and forth on his gap, feeling a bulge press against you as your cunt pulsed around nothing.. you prayed he didn’t feel anything. you always wondered how he’s so sweet and delicate with your kisses as if you were some kind of gentle flower you needed to protect, his touches were so soft.. so gentle and yet a little hesitant.. not wanting to hurt you in anyway. his mouth moved towards your jaw and then your hands. “you should kiss me more babe, i like how soft your lips feel on mine.” “i already allow you to give me surprises kisses in private and public, what more do you need, hm?” “.. another kiss, maybe? or maybe.. more kisses? more than the amount i give you in one day?” ahh.. you know you can’t say no to him, you knew just how much he wanted to kiss you breathless.
୨୧ 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎
surprise kisses with him are a must (atleast 2 him!) he loves sneaking small little pecks on your cheek and lips, though.. his surprise kisses are rather bold and lead to more intimate moments between the both of you. heated and long messy makeout sessions to more.. bolder ones, though you aren’t complaining really, he isn’t either.. in-fact he loves the faces you make whenever he plunges his tongue inside your mouth with no warning at all, grabbing at your ass.. your waist, you name it! scolding him about his “surprise” kisses won’t help either, he just knows how to rile you up in no time! the special grade groaned into the kiss as he pulled you onto his lap, grabbing your hips and squeezing at it with his hands. satoru sighs lowly, struggling against the heat and lust that was now flowing through his body like hot lava, he wanted more and he craved more.. he didn’t even care that it was supposed to be a “small” surprise kiss, he wanted you and he wanted you now. you sure do have that effect on him.
“you’re such a cute little angel for me, mhm? stay still for me a bit, yeah?” oh you knew what he was gonna do. you hear him spit on the top of his fingers for a second, body jolting as you felt his fingers rubbing your clit. “i’m sorry. i can’t get enough of you. look at this, you’re so wet already, angel. all this for me? all because of the kissing, hm?” he rubbed the slit of your pussy with two fingers at a harsher pace.. feeling your wetness on his fingers. “c’mon, keep kissing me pretty. don’t let these fingers distract you, yeah?” was all he said before the sweetness of his lips returned on your own, his kisses were sloppy and messy but yet he didn’t show any signs of stopping anytime soon.. his digits curling in your cunt, forcing a muffled moan from your lips. adding another finger in, he could feel how tight his pants felt.. getting all hard just from fingering you and kissing you alone was crazy enough, he wasn’t playing around.. he wanted more.. and he’ll get more. satoru will do this over and over again until you’re absolutely breathless.
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he’s staring.
in the corner of your eye lies a silhouette, a blur of black hair and sharp facial features. awfully hard not to notice, when he’s standing so close to you — gazing at you so intently. waiting for you to say something.
(resisting the urge to look at him directly is a struggle.)
a smile tugs at the corners of your lips, something giddy and sweet flooding your veins. he’s just standing there. all while you tap at the keys of your laptop, trying to focus on your work. in vain.
because, inevitably, the rubber band of your patience snaps — and you can do nothing but give in to the temptation. feeling him shift from foot to foot, silent as a mouse. you turn your head.
suguru looks meek.
there he stands, tired eyes trailing over your facial features, before falling down to the floor. something about it makes you want to coo — almost like he’s a little flustered. fidgeting with his hands, wringing his long fingers together, so patiently waiting for your attention to fall on him. 
you swear you see the ghost of a pout slip into the curve of his lips. wearing a comfortable sweater, oversized and fluffy, framed by the obsidian of his hair; cascading down his shoulders like a black river. let loose, free to fall as it please, a signature sign that he’s tired.
and as soon as your eyes meet his, a certain something blossoms within the scope of his iris. peeling at the corners, slipping into the amber and cedar, an emotion you can’t quite place. would it be too tacky to call it love?
a giggle slips from your lips, dancing on the tip of your tongue. it’s soft, a little teasing, but who could blame you when he looks so cute? suguru, with his tall stature and broad shoulders, sharp eyes and intimidating presence, staring meekly in your direction. as if too embarrassed to ask for something, curling into himself.
”hey there,” you exhale, something amused laced into the vowels. ”everything okay?”
he averts his gaze. enamored with the smile on your face, the crinkle of your eyes, the melodic lilt of your sweet laughter. like peach blossoms and duvet covers, too soft for him to handle. far too sweet, the mere sight of you, all cozied up on the couch; legs crossed and laptop balanced on your thigh. 
(suguru wishes he could take its place.)
a tilt of your head beckons him to speak, and he can’t help but notice the remnants of something teasing in the gesture. he feels a little out of his element, almost shy, and it’s discomforting — but he’s just so tired. much too plagued by the need to be close to you.
he can live with a little teasing, if it’s you, only if it’s you. 
”what’re you working on?” he asks, delicate, soft voice flowing from his lips like melted honey. there’s a raspy tilt to it, a little scratchy. you smile, gaze drawn towards the screen in front of you.
”nothing much, just some essay. i’m almost finished.” a low sigh, as you lazily scroll through the text. suguru hums. when you look over at him, the smile on your face grows just a tad softer. ”did you need something?”
suguru stills. blinking drowsily, slow and awfully endearing, a flutter of his black lashes. absentmindedly fidgeting with the hem of his puffy sleeve. the silence lingers, a contemplation etched onto his features, until he clears his throat — still unable to look at you properly. 
(there’s only one thing he wants. needs. asking for it is just a little bit tough, though.)
patiently waiting, you begin to study his expression. second nature, to tuck his features in between your ribs, smoothe along the contours you’ve come to love so dearly. memorizing every dip and birthmark.
there’s a barely noticeable flush to his cheeks, a crimson smear that starts at his ears and only ever nips along his cheekbones, but it’s enough to let you know that he’s embarrassed. more than enough, seeing as his gaze won’t even land on you, seeing the fatigue beneath his eyes, the crease between his brows. something that sticks to his skin and drags him down. 
he has been a little stressed, lately. more so than usual. and you’ve noticed, of course you have — worriedly waiting for him to approach you, to let you help. winters are never very kind to him. 
he’s gorgeous, though, even like this. especially like this. sleepy, just a little unkempt, in his natural state. bare, somehow. like he just woke up, like the morning sun is kissing up his collarbone and he just made a cute little sleepy noise that you’re going to tease him for over breakfast. like he’s unguarded, at peace, safe in your arms.
it makes your heart soften considerably. crumbling at the corners, a pang of lovesick ache tugging at your fragile heartstrings.
and finally, you speak up. urging him to continue, gently, not wanting to rush him. ”well?” 
suguru gnaws at the flesh of his bottom lip, just a little chapped. his tongue flits out to lick along the dry skin, and he does a little cough under his breath. you’re patient, waiting for him to speak, but it’s tough when all you want is to tug him close.
(you have an idea of what he’s going to ask you, what it is he wants. because you know him — and you want it too.)
”… can,” he starts, tentative. slow, as if he’s trying to swallow the embarrassment, gulp down the nervous flutter of his heartbeat. then he continues. ”i get a hug?”
finally, he looks at you; and your heart ricochets in your chest. amber eyes boring into yours, deep and warm, soft around the edges. kind of shy. 
a sharp intake of breath. you can’t help the grin that crawls up to your lips, and you can’t help the words that spill from them. ”gosh, you’re so cute.”
suguru turns away, with what you’re almost sure is a low grumble — buzzing in his throat, like a dragonfly itching to break out. he really does look meek, a little needy, so cute you’re afraid your lungs might collapse. when a chuckle pushes past your lips, the red tint on his neck and ears only seems to exacerbate. 
with swift movements, you close your laptop, plopping it down on the table in front of you. not wanting to waste any time, a little afraid that he’ll change his mind. ”of course you can,” you assure him, a soft lull of your tongue.
leaning back, you rest your head against a pile of cushiony pillows, melting into the couch beneath you. extending your arms; beckoning him close, into your embrace. the smile you grace him with is a little teasing, but mostly soft, inviting.
and suguru can’t resist it.
he still seems a little flustered, as he crawls along the couch, to take his rightful place in your arms. flopping down on top of you with a huff, like a big dog, cheek squished against your chest — eager to listen to the echo of your heartbeat. steady and soothing, a lullaby to his muddled mind.
a long, satisfied sigh escapes him, muffled into the fabric of your shirt. he wraps his arms around you, nuzzling a little further into your touch. slowly melting.
ah, he’s just too much. try as you might, you don’t fully manage to stifle the coo that laces the tip of your tongue. just admiring him, in the dim lighting of the room, all sleepy and content. that palpable fatigue, slowly dissipating. a soft groan slips from his lips when your hand goes to card through his hair, softly, nails raking over his scalp.
”my big baby,” you murmur, planting a kiss on the top of his head. suguru wants to grumble, protest a bit, but all he can do is soak in the words, the skip of his heartbeat that follows. ”everything okay?”
he nods. groggy, cheek against your soft chest. no longer able to hide his neediness, to muster the strenght, thoroughly soothed by the warmth that seeps from your body. from your veins to his. and he sighs, barely above a whisper. ”jus’ missed you.”
he must notice it, you think — the rapid rhythm of your heartbeat, something erratic in the decisive thumps of blood. a little louder than they should be. 
but if he does, he doesn’t mention it. only shifting a little in your arms, nuzzling further into your chest, relishing in the sensation of your hand in between his messy locks. so cozy. 
”i missed you too,” you echo, unable to fight off the sappy grin on your lips. so much affection in every caress, every soft glance. eager to be let out. ”’m sorry if i’ve been neglecting you.” 
suguru shakes his head — brushing off your guilt. always so willing to put your peace of mind before his. it only weakens you further, thoughts fuzzy with the image of him, the love that clouds your vision. how to properly convey it in words. 
”i’m always so proud of you,” you exhale, a little shaky. so earnest that you falter. a loud mantra of your heartbeat filling your ears, so much fondness stuffed inside your chest. ”working so hard. love you so, so much, honey.”
this time, it’s suguru’s heart that stutters and flails. reduced to a desperate instinct, something intimate and bare. the term of endearment slips off your tongue like it was always meant to be there, like that’s where it belongs, coupled with the soft sensation of your fingers ghosting over his skin. brushing away his bangs to smear a kiss against his forehead.
”i’m never gonna let you go,” you promise, unable to control the affection smeared into your voice. like you’d explode if you didn’t speak it out loud. ”my angel.”
”okay — that’s,” suguru croaks, before you can continue. exasperated, deeply embarrassed. at this point, he’s sure his face must be red, and he’s sure you can see it. despite his attempts to hide away in the crook of your neck. ”that’s enough.”
laughter bubbles up in your throat, sweet like osmanthus and whipped cream. giddy and teasing, in equal measure, sending a jolt of fondness running through his veins. ”are you embarrassed?”
”no,” he scoffs, too quickly. you both know he’s lying. it’s a rare treat, seeing him this flustered — how could you resist the urge to tease him a bit? 
”then why d’you want me to stop?” you grin, searching for his gaze. but suguru refuses to look at you.
”it’s just…” he mumbles, a string of tiny words. gnawing at his bottom lip. ”a little much, don’t you think?”
”i mean it, though.”
suguru groans, and a bout of giggles pushes past your lips. the smile on your face is starting to make your cheeks hurt, an achy kind of joy. yeah — suguru is just far too cute. he’s cute, and pretty, and beautiful, and gorgeous. how could you keep yourself away?
reaching for a strand of his hair, you let it fall between your fingers. smooth and silky, brushing against your skin, soft and familiar. memories bloom from your fingertips, seeping into your subconscious; the first time he let you touch his hair, that content purr in his throat, the time you braided it as the world fell asleep around you. he takes good care of it, always has. attentive and delicate, almost as lovingly as he handles you.
a great surge of affection sprouts in between your ribs, spreading throughout every cell of your body, wholly engulfing you. it’s too much to bear.
a blissful sigh. you tilt your head, softly, a bleeding tenderness to every word you speak. and you do, with a sincerity to your voice that he’s never been able to handle. “is it really so strange if i want to give the love of my life some affection?” 
— and suguru’s resolve crumbles into dust. 
”… you’re,” he tries, a shiver of his weak voice. under normal circumstances, he could think of a suave reply, something to get the upper hand; but today, suguru happens to be very tired, and you seem awfully set on making him melt through the couch. ”— awful. you know that?”
his heart aches, when the bitter words make you giggle. a little sleepy. it makes him want to tuck you into his chest, hide you away inside his ribcage. kiss you breathless.
”so mean,” you pout, entirely fabricated. a heavy amusement lays thick on your tongue. “i’m professing my undying love for you here, y’know?”
”that’s exactly what i mean,” he sighs, unable to repress the slight smile on his lips. a little tug, that says more than his words ever could.
the laughter in your throat lingers, for a bit, until the intimacy of the moment softens you up. something tender and genuine in the depths of your eyes. ”i mean it, though. i’m not just teasing you.” 
your hand goes to cup his face, thumb smoothing over his cheekbone. and then you’re leaning in, to press your lips against his forehead — pulling away with a drawn out mwah, a soft grin, a little boyish. terribly cute. 
”i really do love you,” you profess, a whisper. he believes you. “i love everything about you.”
a moment passes. the soft ticking of the clock fills the space between your words, and the scent of leftover curry and brewed coffee simmers in the faraway kitchen. wafting out into the living room. 
suguru places his hand over yours. a rough palm, always so gentle with you, slipping down to your wrist so he can hoist himself up. 
you blink. 
before you know it, he’s pressed his lips to yours, slow and methodical. tender, tender, tender. always. he sighs into the kiss, content, and your heartbeat quickens — he tastes like honey and rain.
when he pulls away, he’s smiling. a little lovesick.
”i love you too,” he hums, a soft purr that trails down your spine. he delights in the way you finally blush, cheeks warm beneath his heavy hands. ”so, so much.”
all you can do is stare, entirely transfixed. 
then you’re averting your gaze, and he’s stifling a soft bout of laughter, and something warm and wonderful blooms in the nearly non-existent space between you. his cheek finds itself pressed against your chest, again, allowing the soft and rapid thumping of your heartbeat to carry him away.
an anchor for him to hold on to, his lighthouse at the end of a murky ocean. it’s always, always there — that soft mantra of thump, thump, thump.
(he can’t tell you how many times it’s saved him.)
”… you can’t do stuff like that when my guard is down,” you murmur, after a moment. sheepish. ”what if my heart explodes?” 
suguru only chuckles, sleepy and raspy, the same as ever. he turns his head to press a kiss against the fabric of your shirt, right above your heart, a kind of cheeky, soft apology that you know he doesn’t actually mean. 
(he could never feel sorry for telling you how much he loves you; no matter how flustered you get.)
and, at last, suguru thinks the fatigue clinging to his soul may have slipped off entirely. substantially. soothed by your presence, your very being. 
it’s embarrassing, being so very doted on, being so painfully unaccustomed to it. but suguru could never hate it. he could never hate a single thing you do to him, grant him with, from your soft touches and cheeky kisses to the burnt pancakes you worked so hard on. 
he’d rather die than deny you. 
so he has no choice but to bask in it; the feeling of your hands in his hair, nails on his scalp, breath against his skin. the change you’ve brought into his life. bringing with you the fading scent of peach blossoms and chewing gum, sweetness and softness. happy dreams.
yeah, that’s right. he has no choice but to melt into your touch, nuzzle into your chest, fall asleep to the sound of your heartbeat. 
no choice at all.
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risuola · 4 months
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II — JUST HUSH — F. READER x SUKUNA RYOMEN
Morning after the adventure with the dangerous stranger went just like you suspected - horribly, but that wasn't the worst that was waiting for you.
cw: angst, mafia!au, violence, few suggestive parts, insults, somewhat of an obsessive behaviors, reader discretion is advised — 4,3k words
a/n: officialy, this fic became a series - I wasn't expecting it to be so loved by you, readers and I can't thank you enough for the support to this story. also, there is a suggestion in my ask!box that I took a lot of inspiration for this chapter, so whoever gave the idea, thank you ❤️
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Being soft was a trait that Sukuna never actively credited himself with. He never had any urge to do so, never needed to explore that side of him and in his profession, that would most likely lead to a certain death. Leading people of mafia required him to be harsh and rough, there was no time and place for any kindness and gentleness and honestly, if anybody asked him about it just yesterday, he would say with certainty that the softness in him died long time ago. Even with women, he was never exactly sensual – he’s rather the type to take what he needs, devour what he’s hungry for and leave. Aftercare wasn’t his strong suit, for some reason inside his mind taking care of someone made him weak. That was before you.
You met not even a day ago, you asked for his help and once you got his attention, he knew he was fucked. You were just so gorgeous, so innocent and the way your glossed with tears eyes looked into his, he felt the strangest warmth inside his chest – a need of protection? Something so foreign and absurd that wouldn’t usually cross his mind. But then, he had you in his house, he had you on top of him and he had you hungry. You were smart, surely you noticed the gun pinned to his belt, he wasn’t exactly discreet about it and yet, you chose to stay with him for the night. It had to be some kind of sinister plan of yours, Sukuna wondered.
Were you put in his way to sabotage him?
He had no idea, but once the day was bright and now close to evening, you were still sleeping in his bed, with your head resting atop of his chest and one of your legs thrown over his own. You were breathing slowly and peacefully, so blissfully unaware of how dangerous it is for you to be in the same house with him, not to mention lay tangled with him below the sheets. As he smoothed over your bare shoulder with his fingers, he was thinking about how the night went. The sex was great, the best he had in years. You were playing along with him, you wanted him as much as he wanted you and as you playfully fought for dominance with him, he could have sworn it was the sexiest thing he’s ever experienced. The way you tugged his hair, pushing him nose deep into your dripping core and keeping him there until he made you cum almost made him cum as well, just from the slight dominance you had on him. Even though he allowed this to happen. He could still recall the delicious sting of your nails scratching red marks onto his back and shoulders. Every time his name slipped over your tongue, his heart seemed to skip a beat.
Just like that, you’ve got him hooked, but even so, he should have kept his word. He should have made you get dressed, maybe, out of curtesy, allow you to take a shower so that his seed wouldn’t run down your legs and mess up the leather in his car. He should have driven you home as soon as he was finished with you, but he didn’t. He couldn’t. Not when you wrapped yourself around him, exhausted and already half-asleep, searching for the warmth of his body. Not when your weight on top of him felt like it was meant to lay there and especially not when your lips pressed few lazy kisses to the side of his neck before you dozed off.
You moved, rolling away from him and onto your back. You were waking up, he could tell by the sound of your quiet hums and the way your breath pattern changed from slow and calm to deep and more present. Sukuna flipped to his side, taking in the beauty of your features, now illuminated with the daylight. Your makeup kept up pretty well and even the smudged edges couldn’t take away your loveliness.
You hummed a little louder, groggily reaching up with your hands and arching your back like a cat in a long, sharp stretch. The covers slipped off your chest, exposing the pink of your nipples that now matched the many marks he had sucked onto your flesh just hours ago. Then your body relaxed, once again falling onto the mattress and a smile stretched your lips when Ryomen put his fingers against your skin. He brushed it ever so lightly along the shapes of your form, running along your collar bones, circling around the nipples and then, moving it down up and down your sternum.
“Good morning,” you purred against his lips when he reached to kiss you.
“More like good evening,” he replied, his voice quiet and calm as he moved his hand to the side of your body and pulled you flush against his chest. You hooked your leg onto his hip and wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your fingers into his hair.
“That late, huh?”
“That late.”
It was dangerous. The way you looked into his eyes, the relaxed stance your body, oblivious to the fact you were in the embrace of death personified – it was all too dangerous for Sukuna. It was too warm, too lovely, too innocent. He hated the vulnerability you subjected him to and the fact his head was filled with wishes to protect you? Fuck, it was bad. It wasn’t him, it wasn’t what he stood for in his life, it was against all of his morals. He had always been a man of few emotions, always cold and never letting anything or anyone get to him. He was calculating, feared by many and respected by few. He had risen through the ranks of the underworld by means that were often brutal and always efficient. Never, not once, he had let emotions to cloud his judgement or stand in the way of his goals. But then, you happened.
“The night…” You murmured softly, brushing the tip of your nose against his own. “I enjoyed it very much, ‘kuna—” And the nickname?!
“That’s enough,” he groaned, his tone coming in sharp and cold and it immediately brought you back to your senses. The wishful daze of bliss vanished in an instant, suddenly the tension came back to your shoulders. It was too much for Sukuna, he wanted to have a nice fuck that night and he already made a mistake by letting you stay in his bed when he was done with you. It was dangerous for you, it was dangerous for him and honestly, that lovey-dovey shit has never been his brand anyway. “Time for you to go.”
“What happened? You were so delicate just a moment ago—”
“Spare me the dumb romantic shit. I just wanted to fuck you, don’t get ahead of yourself and if you wish to keep that pretty head of yours then better get fucking going. I’ll have a driver take you back home.” He shut you down roughly and from that point, it all went quickly. You were gone in just few moments. You were gone, but the man felt no relief.
Few days passed by. Or was it weeks? Sukuna couldn’t tell as days began blurring their edges and all he could focus on was you. He couldn’t rid himself of the memory of you rushing in fear, just barely clothed as if he was about to hunt you down and shot you in the head if you didn’t leave his space. As if the one minute longer would cost you your life. Every time he closed his eyes or got into his bed he could see the picture of your face, the display of hurt and fright that stained the beautiful innocence in the moment he had told you to leave, discarding you as if you were a toy that he used and got bored of.
What was this feeling? He was asking himself every time he had watched you from afar. Was it guilt? He couldn’t tell, it felt foreign. For Ryomen it was an everyday thing to scare someone off, the blood of his enemies is what he’s ravishing in but you… You were far from being his enemy. And so he found himself more and more often observing you, each time being in the same place as you by accident. You made him fascinated, you made him fall into your trap. He found himself drawn to you, drawn to the light that you brought with you. He was missing you. Was that your plan all along? A revenge for how he had treated you that one night?
Your heart was pure, almost too pure for this world, Sukuna thought to himself every time he had a chance to see your everyday life. A waitress, serving tables in a small, local café, wearing the smile that he could tell was fake, and yet it charmed everyone and he couldn’t help but feel the odd sense of pride when he realized that the way your lips were curved the night you were together was utterly real. And then, he would see you on your days off, wearing cozy and comfy clothes, no makeup adorning your face as you were lost in the world of music in your headphones and whatever task you had in front of your face on the screen of your computer. You were too cute for your own good, with the little scrunch of your nose whenever you closed your tired eyes and the colorful stickers of cats and sunflowers that decorated the outside of your laptop. He’s seen you feeding some stray kittens with the salmon from your sandwich, petting their little heads as they were leaning into your touch and Sukuna would never imagine himself being jealous of the feline, but there he was, hidden behind the darkened windows in his car, wishing to be the one who’s head is in the warm and delicate embrace of your soft palm. Fleeting attraction, that’s what it had to be.
Sukuna had never thought of himself as a romantic, but there was something about you that did it for him. You were soft, gentle and vulnerable in a way that made him want to protect you, to shield you from the violent life he led. And yet, you were also strong, strong enough to face him, to challenge him and even make him laugh. It was a strange combination, and it made him feel things he had never felt before. He didn’t want to admit it to himself, but he was thinking of you more and more often. He had to be careful, though. He could tell that you were innocent, that you didn’t understand the world he lived in. If he let himself get to close, he might put you in danger and the thought of that, he couldn’t bear. He had a responsibility to keep you safe, even if it meant pushing you away. And for the first time in his life, he was scared. Scared that if he plays this whole thing wrong, he might lose you, even if he never truly had you. He was scared you’ll find out who he really was and scared of what that would do to you. He knew you noticed his gun, you had to notice it, but did you really had any idea what that meant?
For you, the time after meeting the stranger in the club was everything but easy. The hurt subsided quite rapidly, your heart wasn’t stupid enough to grow attached to a man you’d known for just few hours and deep down you knew that what you started by asking him for help had to end up somewhat similar to what happened. He wasn’t a prince from the fairy tale and you were no princess, it wasn’t a story of love, it was just sex and with that, you came to terms quite quickly. It was the fright that you couldn’t shake off your shoulders. Sukuna was a man that was keeping a gun attached to his belt, he had to be a gangster or something along these lines and considering the big, rounded and scared eyes of everyone in his proximity you’d only assume that his position in the world was at least threatening. It stayed in the back of your mind that he might have come for you, to hurt you or worse. He had shown you where he lives, after all, wasn’t that enough of a reason to erase someone from the world?
But nothing bad happened as your life went by, somehow it seemed as if it was even going smoother than it used to. The one very stubborn client, one that used to harass you every time he had a chance suddenly stopped showing in the café you work in; you even got a little raise from your boss, what despite being a bonus that you really needed, was also the most suspicious thing that happened to you lately. Your boss never gave raises. Life was good, until—
—you opened your eyes feeling pain. At first, you couldn’t tell what happened to you. Where were you? How did you get here? And why was everything so white?
Breathe in and out. Why did breathing hurt? And what was that beeping?
“You’re awake,” a voice made you turn your head to the side. And then, at the sight of a familiar face, it all flashed back.
It was at night, you were heading home from the meeting with your co-workers. An absurd celebration of something that you were quite certain didn’t even concerned you or your interns, but your boss required you all to be present anyways. It was tiring, to stay in the café after nearly ten hours shift, but thankfully during the event you were sitting and not actively working, so at least it was that much. Your legs hurt nonetheless, you felt fatigued after the entire week of intense shifts intertwined with classes, so when you were suddenly yanked by the wrist to the back, it wasn’t much of a surprise to you that you lost your balance.
“What do we have here, eh?” One of the men spoke and as you looked up, two faces were glaring at you with disgusting sense of superiority. “Oi, Naoya, is that the bitch you were talking about?”
“Bet it is,” the second man snorted. “She fits the description.”
Naoya? The name rang a bell so roughly and suddenly that your eyes widened in fear. It was the man you met in the club, the one that was all over you the second he met you. The one that you escaped only thanks to asking another stranger for help. But now, you couldn’t see him. Who stood above you was a man with long, silver hair and a face covered in linear scars. He was wearing a face of psychotic content, a grin so unsettling that it froze the blood inside your veins and just by the look of him you could tell he was dangerous. And then, the second one stood right next to him – his hair was pitch black and eyes probably green-ish, with little scar on the side of his lip that made itself apparent the moment you looked at him. He was insanely well-built, in a shirt that looked like one of those compression, sport-related attires.
“What do you want from me…?” You asked, your voice uncharacteristically quiet, as if the fear made your vocal cords clench. And you felt it, an unsettling feeling of upcoming death and it led to a chain of regret of every choice that you made that led you to this place and time. You should’ve taken a taxi. Or go a different route.
“Oh, we’re here to teach you a lesson,” the white-haired one responded as the other grinned like the devil himself. And then, they moved to the sides a little and right in the middle appeared the man that you do recognize. Naoya Zenin himself, with his face twisted in some kind of sick satisfaction as he grabbed your hair and yanked you up from the ground. Your back hit the concrete wall and his near proximity made you instantly tensed.
“I got you,” he grinned and there was violence intertwined into the expression his face bore. “I finally fucking got you.”
“Just leave me alone…” You demanded, your voice much weaker that you’d like it to be, much less constructive, not confident at all. You were frightened, to say the least, there was no way you could protect yourself from one man, but three? “Please.” As you begged, your own death flashed before your eyes. There was no way in hell you’re gonna survive this, that had to be it. The night was dark enough to cover the crime that was happening and even if there would be any bravery in you still left, nobody would help you. No one would be dumb enough to stand against the group that was about to abuse you.
“Oh, the little bitch is scared, huh?” Naoya laughed right into your face, his tongue leaving a wet trace along your throat and it filled you with enough disgust to wince. “Where’s your protector now, eh? Where’s your big daddy Sukuna?”
“What’s your problem?” The question slipped through your tongue in nothing more than a whisper. You couldn’t believe that you’re going to die because you asked a random man for help and that random man turned out to be a gang member or something. “I don’t have anything to do with him, I—”
“Of course, you don’t. I’m sure he fucked you and threw you out like a trash you are,” Zenin spit nothing but venom as his eyes were piercing holes into your skull. You could feel his hand sneaking underneath the fabric of your hoodie and your attempts on pushing him away did nothing to stop him from squeezing one of your breasts. “I bet you’re a good fuckthing tho.”
“Get your hands off of me,” you warned, your voice now rougher but still, too quiet to pose any threat. You wanted to nail his eyes out, to rip his heart out of his chest, but none of that you were able to do. Naoya laughed, once again, sounding like an asshole he was as he stepped back.
“Undress.” It was an order that he threw at you. Him, along with the other two, circled you as if predators would circle their prey and you felt small below the weight of their eyes.
“No.”
The moment you denied, the sharp pain sent you to the ground. He hit you, one of them, right in the face, with the top of his hand. The harsh contact of his knuckles and your cheekbone snatched you off your feet.
“You heard the order. Behave, slut.” The dark haired one was speaking calmly, but there was a certain coldness in his tone. The nonchalance that froze your insides.
“No…” You whispered, desperate to keep your dignity intact before you die. Immediately they showed you why hoping for it was foolish, as the series of kicks enveloped you in the cage of pain and suffering. You hid your head inside your arms, a helpless try to protect it from the heavy boots that not once held back before making contact with your fragile frame. You remember the sound of their voices, the feeling of their fists connecting again and again with your body.
“So fucking stupid,” someone laughed at you and you were far from sure and way too scared to check it yourself, but you could have sworn that somebody spit at you. “Don’t you understand? Nobody will save you now, no one cares about a bitch like you. I’d say it last time. Undress.”
“N-no…”, you sniffled, hugging your head tightly as if bracing yourself for another salve of hurt. But it didn’t come, no hit was aimed at your curled on the ground body. Instead, you heard the pained whines from not too far away, you heard the sounds of a battle and was it the sound of bones being broken? You couldn’t tell, it felt surreal, was that it? Was that how you’re gonna die? Because surely no one in their right mind would step into action, risking being killed themselves for you.
“Hey, I’ll take you to the hospital,” that voice. You knew that. You heard it for such a short time in your life and yet you’d recognize it everywhere. The low, slightly husky tone that you remembered as one that was enough to turn you on just by the sound of it. Now it was accompanying the very gentle arms that scooped you off the floor. Then, you dared to open your eyes.
“Ryomen?” Your voice felt weak, your throat hoarse from the dryness but that didn’t stop you from speaking. The more information got into your brain, the easier it got to understand what was the place you woke up in.
A hospital. You woke up in the hospital bed, surrounded by monitors and machines. Your body bruised and battered, ached with each breath you tried to take. Your head was still foggy and your muscles stiff, you had a pounding headache that only got worse as the memories of the night before came flooding back to you. You were lucky. So incredibly lucky to be alive. And yet again, Sukuna saved you. Then you probably passed out.
“You’re awake,” he sounded soft. How odd. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m… why are you here?”
“I had to check if you’re alright. And also I’m gonna take you home, but needed to wait until you’re awake and doctors can give you the last checkup.” He explained it matter-of-factly and it only got you more confused than you were just a second ago.
“That… doesn’t exactly answer my question…?”
“It will do for now. I’ll bring the doctor.”
Sukuna left the room sooner than you had a chance to ask anything else. He felt as if the weight was taken off his shoulders the very second you opened your eyes and recognized him. The last hours were an agony, he stayed near your bed for the entire time and though there was nothing that was threatening your life anymore, he couldn’t help but feel so awfully guilty. The foreign feeling of it made him realize that he was fucked up good, you had poisoned him with emotions that he already forgot about, the useless display of something that he considered a weakness for the better of his life. As he was watching your fragile frame, though covered with white, clean sheets he felt the rage boiling inside his veins because he knew. He saw the damage on your body, the bruises that painted your soft skin in dark, purple-ish blotches, the patch of scratches on your side – in place where your naked hip met the ground. And your cheek… there still was a red spot on top of your cheekbone, the one Sukuna assumed was also a result of a hit and it angered him even more because if he has noticed it before, he would for sure kill those imitations of a men and not only leave them in a mush.
Sukuna felt a certain sense of responsibility due to what happened to you. It wasn’t your fault, per se, that when you were looking for help in that club when you first met him, you had the misfortune to pick a persona like him and frankly, if Sukuna would know back then that Naoya will come for you later to get his revenge, he would kill him right then and there. The more he thought about it, the more he was realizing that he would kill anyone if it was to keep you safe.
“Ready to go home?” Ryomen asked, assisting you in pulling your bruised arms through the sleeves of a hoodie he had brought you. A clean one, way too big on your frame but comfortable at that, lined with plush so that it won’t irritate your injured skin.
“I think so…?” Your reply was confused, it was unsure and still slightly underlined with fear. There was a reason to it, last time you saw the man that was now trying to help you, he threatened to rid you of your head. “Ryomen, I don’t understand—”
“Just hush,” he cut you, gently swooping you off the edge of the bed and you settled in the safety of his muscular arms, leaning your head against his shoulder, next to his neck. “I was told you still should rest so let me take you home. Alright? Alright.”
There was no point in arguing, you couldn’t do much whilst in his arms even if you tried and it was naïve, you thought, but there was a sense of protection tied tightly to the way he was keeping you close. You felt as if any danger couldn’t reach you when his hands were wrapped around you. He was dangerous, that much you knew, and yet there was a gentleness in a way he was holding you near his chest, near the place where his heart beats in a regular, calm rhythm. Fact is, you didn’t want to run away from him, though you should. And so, you leaned into him, nuzzling your head into the dip between his neck and shoulder and as you breathed in his scent, the musky note of his cologne and tobacco, you felt at ease.
» PART THREE
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taglist: @yihona-san06 , @tiredscavengerskeleton , @son4aras , @vixorell , @cecesharktales , @isleqt , @thickmacandcheese
2K notes · View notes
skbeaumont · 6 days
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Five for Five | Joel x Reader Oneshot
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“I ain’t stupid.” His tone is heavy now, words grating out of his throat like rusty razor blades. “Last I checked, we had one hundred and two. There’s ninety-seven here. That’s five missing.”
Summary: It was probably a stupid idea to trade five ration cards for a tiny bottle of perfume, and it's not surprising that Joel is angry, but you think it might just be worth it. Tags/warnings: fem reader, smut, dubcon, spanking, punishment, dom!Joel, sub!reader, first time, oral (m receiving), fingering, pet names, unprotected p in v, aftercare. Word Count: 4k
A/N: Forgive me father for I have sinned. This is pure filth. Please mind the tags/warnings.
“Where are the rest?”
Joel’s voice cuts through you as soon as you step inside the apartment. It’s late, already dark out, and the dangerous edge to his words makes you jump as you step inside, shoulders aching, feet numb from the long walk back home through the QZ.
“Jesus fuck, Joel. What are you doing here?”
He doesn’t answer, just holds up his hand and shakes the stack of ration cards that are clutched in his fist. The only light is coming from the wonky reading lamp in the corner and it casts an amber glow over the apartment and Joel’s stern face.
“I said,” his voice is steady, clear, but you can already hear the frustration that’s buried underneath it, the anger that’s so quick to rise in him threatening to bubble over, “where are the rest?”
“They should all be there,” you reply, letting your eyes fall down to your boots, toeing them off so that you don’t have to look at his face.
“Well, they ain’t.” He takes a step toward you, his own boots heavy on the worn linoleum floor. “And I wanna know where they are.”
“Did you check under the floor?”
Of course he’s checked under the floor, and of course they aren’t there, because last night you took a handful – five, max – and traded them for a tiny bottle of perfume that’s now stuffed under your mattress. Joel rarely checks the ration cards – he lets you deal with that side of the dodgy business you’ve been running together for the last year and a half – so you’d thought you could get away with it. That he wouldn’t notice. But this is Joel, and he’s noticed.
“I ain’t stupid.” His tone is heavy now, words grating out of his throat like rusty razor blades. “Last I checked, we had one hundred and two. There’s ninety-seven here. That’s five missing.”
With this last he slams the pile down on the kitchen side next to you, stepping right up into your space so that you feel his breath – hot and tinged with the scent of cheap bourbon – on the side of your face. You’ve seen him angry so many times, but it’s never been directed at you before, and you’re starting to understand why most people avoid his gaze in corridors, why men cross the street when they see him coming. 
“Did you miscount?” You ask, fighting to keep your voice level, light.
“Did I miscount?” He repeats, slow, each word enunciated like it’s a full sentence on its own, and you realise it was probably the worst thing you could have said.
His fingers are hot on your chin when he grabs it, tilting your reluctant face up, dragging your eyeline to meet his. His face is a sight to behold: eyebrows furrowed, deep groves carved out in the lines that surround them, his jaw tense, a muscle twitching as he grinds his teeth. There’s danger in his eyes; a fire behind them that burns as he stares down at you.
“No, I didn’t miscount.” He spits the last word out, eyes tracing the blush that’s crawling up your throat, the way your eyes dart away from his, the flicker of your pulse – fast, rising – in your throat. The trace of the misdirection, the lie, so obvious.
He can read you like a book, always could. But you’re stubborn. You’re not giving anything away if you don’t have to. Those cards are yours as much as they’re his, and this one thing you’ve allowed yourself in eighteen months is worth the way his fingertips are digging into the sides of your face.
“What did you trade ‘em for?” He asks.
“Fuck you.”
He laughs at this, lets your face go and takes a single step back, swings his arm to his side and lets it carry him into a half turn. You slump back against the door, peeling paint sticking uncomfortably to your back. But it’s a short-lived reprieve.
“Fuck me?” He repeats, turning back to you. “After all I’ve done for you, all the shit I’ve taken for you-”
“I didn’t ask you to!” Your voice is shrill compared to his gruff curses, but you continue, adrenaline spiking, “And you’ve been the cause of at least half of that shit, Joel. Don’t make out like you’re some knight in shining armour when we both know the truth!”
The truth: that he’s brutal, feared by almost everyone in the QZ;  that people only trade with the two of you because of your hard work and negotiation skills. Joel’s good for enforcing things, for smuggling things in and out, and for sending a message when anything goes wrong, but he’s also a broken man whose anger has got him into more than a few scrapes that you’ve had to get him out of with nothing more than your sharp tongue and quick thinking.
He lets you rally this outburst at him, doesn’t blink in the face of it, until you’ve finished. Then he’s striding back to you, slamming the hand holding the cards hard against the door behind you. It makes you flinch away but his other hand’s back on your jaw, grip tighter this time, forcing you to look up at him.
“Where are the rest?” He repeats, brandishing the ration cards so that they’re inches from your face.
“They’re mine as much as they’re yours.” You say, quietly defiant despite the way your voice shakes.
“You trade them?”
“What does it matter?”
“Nuh-uh,” He twists his hand, turns your face away so that you’re forced to look to the side instead of into his face and he can say the next words into your ear. “This ain’t how this works. I ask the questions, you answer ‘em. Did. You. Trade. Them?”
His face is so close to yours now that you can feel spit landing on your cheek as he speaks, his breath hot in your ear. It shouldn’t turn you on, but it does. You can feel yourself getting wet, slick pooling unbidden between your thighs. It’s hard to ignore a man like Joel, but it’s even harder to get close to him. You don’t think he’s ever been so near to you before, not even when you’ve tended each other’s wounds after a run went south.
You’ve always wanted him to; held a secret flame that’s grown brighter and hotter over the last few months. There’s something undeniably attractive about Joel. The way he moves, the quiet confidence he exudes and the brutal, coiled power of him. You’ve watched him set his fist into another man’s jaw and wondered what it would be like to be on the receiving end of his temper, his passion.
Now, with his face so close to yours, his thick fingers digging into your jaw, you feel yourself sinking into it, relaxing despite the tension of the situation. You want this, you want his anger and razor-sharp focus. It’s overwhelming in the best way, and you feel tears burning at your lower lashline.
“Yes. I traded them.”
A tear slides down you face and Joel’s eyes trace its path as it glides over your check, pooling in the corner of your mouth, salty and unrepentant.
“What for?”
“Perfume.”
He laughs again, but this laugh is full of derision, not mirth. It’s a punch of a laugh, straight from his chest, catching in his throat and distorting into a growl that sends a shiver up your spine and a bolt of lightning through your cunt.
“Perfume.” He repeats, turning your face in his hand so that you’re looking at him again.
His pupils are blown wide, his face a mask of fury and something else that has you pressing your thighs together, seeking friction. He notices you doing it, lets his eyes follow the movement of your hips, the desperate, needy breaths you’re sucking in. He grins, teeth bared.
“And what, exactly, do you need perfume for?” He asks, not giving you time to answer before he’s bending down and pressing his nose into the side of your neck, inhaling deeply, stubble scratching your throat. “Smell sweet enough to me already.”
“Joel, please,” you say, but you’re not sure what you’re asking for, because he’s licking a thick stripe up the side of your throat and you think if he stops you might scream.
“Buy it for those boys I see sniffing around you sometimes? Huh?” He asks, drawing back from you and shaking your face in his hand roughly. “Knew you were nothing but a fucking slut.”
“I just- I wanted something nice.” You try to explain, the words catching in your throat as he slides one thick thigh between yours.
“Something nice? What makes you think you deserve something nice, hmm? Ain’t nothing nice in this place, you should know that as well as I do.”
And you do, God knows you do. The QZ is dark and twisted and fucking soul-crushing, but you’d wanted the perfume, wanted it with a deep yearning that matches the way you want Joel to keep going now, to push you and punish you and take what he wants.
“I think you need to learn a lesson, baby.”
You’re nodding into his hand, tears rolling down your face, splashing onto his thick fingers. He lets go of your jaw, takes you by the wrist and pulls you into the room, toward the sofa, over his knee when he sits. Your stomach is pressed into his thighs, face buried in the dirty sofa cushion and he’s got one hand pressing into your spine, the other searching out the button of your jeans. He undoes it, wastes no time in dragging the worn denim down your shaking thighs.
“You’re gonna lie there and take it, you hear me?” He says, splaying a hand over your bare ass cheek, moving the line of your knickers out of the way so that he can squeeze the meat of you, fingers dipping between your thighs, finding the slick liquid that’s leaking from you.
“Jesus Christ, you’re soaked already. Fuckin’ filthy little thing, aren’t you?” His accent is somehow thickening, vowels lengthening, the twang of his consonants increasing.
“I asked you a question.” He says when you don’t immediately reply, and you nod your head, wipe your wet eyes against the sofa.
“Count for me.” He says, and before you can take a breath to prepare, his hand is coming down sharply on you.
The sting is sharp; delicious.
“Count.” He hisses, and you whisper a faint one, breaking off into a moan when he lets his fingers graze the side of your puffy lips.
You wish you could see his expression, see if this is affecting him as much as its affecting you, if he’s watching with something like ecstasy on his handsome, haunting features.
The second smack is harder than the first, sharper and sweeter for it. It makes you jerk against him but he’s holding you down firmly with one solid hand in the middle of your back, pressing you into his thighs, into his lap. The denim of his jeans is rough against your bare stomach, scratching you skin where your shirt’s risen up. The third slap makes you yelp, harder again, but he soothes it immediately with his palm, rubs the flesh of your ass.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? Enjoying being bent over my lap and spanked like the dirty whore y’are, huh?”
You can’t believe the filth that’s dripping from his lips. Sure, he curses plenty, and you’ve heard him cuss out entire rooms full of angry men, but this is something else entirely. This is animalistic and derogatory and indecent. And God help you, its sending rushes of hot liquid practically gushing down your thighs.
“Be so easy to slide myself inside you, you’re so goddamn wet.” He says as he sends another harsh slap onto your ass. “Open you up and press myself inside this soaking cunt, hmm? Bet you’d let me, too, let me do fucking anything to you.”
“Yes, Joel, please, anything.”
His third laugh of the afternoon is throaty and coarse, full of self-indulgence. It makes the hairs stand up on the back of your neck, makes you clench your thighs together and grind your teeth to stop you from crying out again.
“You gonna come like this, baby?” He asks, sliding his hand over the meat of your ass, down between your thighs to press at your entrance, slipping beneath your ruined underwear. “Come on my lap like the dirty fucking slut I know you are?”
The sweet sting as he pushes two thick fingers inside you almost pushes you over the edge there and then, but you bite into your lip – probably drawing blood, but you’re too distracted to notice. He curls his fingers, drags the pads of them over the soft flesh inside you, seeking out that spot that makes you almost black out, pleasure ratcheting up so suddenly that you gasp, coming hard in his lap, muscles shaking and contracting, cunt squeezing his fingers tight.
“There she is,” He hisses, curling them again, chasing you as you shift against him, overstimulated.
How is he so good at this? You’ve never seen him with anyone – he’s always given the impression that he has no interest in sex, in relationships, friendships, even. But the expert way that he’s playing your body like an instrument, chasing your moans and gasps like they’re the air he needs to stay alive, tells a completely different story. And when you jerk in his grip and he presses you harder against him, shifting on the sofa, there’s suddenly a very clear indication of just how much of an affect this is having on him, too.
“Shit,” His voice is ragged now: This outburst isn’t controlled in the way that the rest of the curses he’s been spewing into your ears have been. It’s unexpected and bitten back behind a grunt as your hip comes into contact with his cock – a solid, hot weight that fills the front of his jeans, pressing the button of his flies into you, his pocket a line of stitches on your stomach.
The next smack is all the harder for the tiny huff of a giggle you let out, which turns quickly into a hiss of pain when his palm comes down hard against you.
“Concentrate,” He warns when you don’t immediately count the spank aloud. “’m teaching you a fuckin’ lesson, here, remember?”
“Four.” You say, pressing your face harder into the cushion, rolling your hips just slightly so that his cock twitches against your stomach.
“Five for five.” He says, soothing your heated flesh with the palm of his hand before bringing it down one final time. “Five. Think you’ve learnt your lesson?”
You twist round in his lap, eyes dancing when you see the flush that’s tinted his cheeks, the way his gaze is lingering on the swell of your ass cheek in his hand, perspiration beading on his heavy brow.
“I don’t know, Joel, do you?” You say, voice teasing, and he snaps his eyes up to your face as he hisses through clenched teeth.
“Fuckin’ mouth on you, you insolent little slut,” he curses, fisting the collar of your shirt and pulling you upright, opening his legs so that you slide between them onto the cold lino floor.
“Think we can find a better use for it, hmm?” He leans back against the couch, pops the first button on his jeans. Your eyes follow the movement hungrily, unable to look away as he slide the zip down painfully slowly, tooth by tooth, the clicks loud in the silent apartment.
He doesn’t take the jeans off, just pushes them far enough down his thighs that he can fist his cock where it sits, heavy and thick, in his underwear. There’s a dark stain at the tip that makes your mouth water, and when he drags his briefs down, too, you lick your lips greedily.
He’s painfully hard – head flushed a deep red, veins standing out boldly against his thick shaft. There’s a thatch of dark hair at the base, and his balls are heavy and full when he tucks the waistband of his briefs underneath them.
He strokes himself lazily a few times and you let yourself look up to his face. His eyes are dark, pupils eating into the deep brown irises, brows furrowed slightly. The amber light of the lamp is casting his face partly in shadow and it only accentuates the strong, curved line of his nose, the deep creases that lines his eyes and forehead. He’s looking at you like you’re the only thing that exists, his gaze so sharp and focused it makes you dizzy.
“C’mon then,” he says, running a hot hand up your jaw to grip the back of your neck, pulling you in towards him. “I got no doubt you know exactly what you’re doing here.”
The scent of him is musky and something distinctly masculine, and you bury your nose in the thick hair at the base of him, place a heated kiss to the side of one thigh. This alone make him moan, a deep, throaty sound that lights you up from the inside.
You press your lips to the tip of him, flick your tongue out to kitten lick at the slit.
“Fuck,” he curses.
He’s sensitive. When you wrap a hand around the base of his cock and place your lips around him he hisses, fingers tightening their grip in your hair, free hand fisting the loose cover of the worn couch. You take him further in, suck your cheeks in to caress him, work your tongue over the delicate ridge at the head of his cock. He tastes like salt and sweat and something distinctly Joel, masculine and heady. When he hits the back of your throat you try not to gag, try to swallow him down, throat contracting around him so that he groans and curses.
“Jesus Christ, baby. Your mouth is fuckin’ filthy.”
You grin around his cock, work your hand over the part of him that won’t fit, then pull back and lick one long strip up his shaft, letting your tongue follow one of the thick veins. He presses himself back into your mouth, tightens his grip on the back of your neck and raises his hips off the sofa.
“You want me to fuck that pretty little mouth, baby?” He asks, and you nod, feel hot tears prickling in your eyes when he starts moving, dragging his hips back and then forward, forcing his cock into your mouth, down your throat so that you feel like you’re choking, like all that exists is Joel and his hard cock, his breathy moans and filthy mouth.
“Got such a clever fuckin’ mouth, baby. Just needed to find a way to put it to good use- shit, yeah, that’s it.” He pushes you down once more, groans as he bottoms out on your throat, then releases the back of your neck so that you can pull back.
You’re a mess, tears rolling down your face, saliva pooling in your mouth and joining your lips with Joel’s cock in long strings. Joel’s looking down at you with fire in his eyes, his dark gaze flicking from your mouth to your eyes to the open buttons of your shirt and the swell of your ass.
“Get up,” He says, wrapping his hand around your upper arm and pulling you to your feet.
Before you’ve time to get your balance he’s bending you over, forcing you onto your hands and knees on the sofa. He lines himself up behind you, drags the blunt head of his cock through your soaking folds and presses himself inside your cunt.
The stretch is intense. You squeeze your eyes shut, press yourself back against him as he inches inside. He pauses for a split second when he’s sheathed himself fully inside, then pulls out and begins a punishing pace, fucking you into the sofa, his hands gripping your hips so hard you’re sure he’ll leave marks in the shape of his fingertips.
“Pussy’s gripping me so fuckin’ tight, darlin’” He says, and something in your chest swells at the sound of ‘darlin’’ rolling off his tongue like that, full of something that’s dangerously close to fondness.
He’s a cacophony of contradictions, greedy hands gripping your hips possessively, then smoothing up your back under your shirt before sliding back down to slap the soft flesh of your ass. His thrusts are hard and intense, cock hitting that spot inside you that makes electricity jolt in your stomach with each movement, but then he bends over you, slows his hips so that he can kiss the skin of your throat. His voice – deep, husky, reverberating in his chest – keeps up a filthy chorus that has you whimpering into the couch, but he’s praising you, offering you gentle encouragement, his words warm and dirty and entirely overwhelming.
Being so good for me, baby, pussy’s so fuckin’ wet and tight around me. Can feel you getting close, you gonna come like this, huh? With my cock buried deep inside this pretty little cunt?
Without waiting for an answer he wraps an arm around you and finds your clit with two of his thick fingers. He starts rubbing confident circles over it, bringing you closer and closer to your inevitable climax. You grip his arm with your fist; fingernails digging into hard muscle.
Then suddenly you’re coming apart, white noise blocking out the sound of his hips slapping into yours and his voice and the low level hubbub of the other apartments, until there’s nothing left but your pleasure and his cock and his clever fingers, his nose pressed into your throat, teeth nipping the tendons there.
The world fades back into existence as you come down, muscles jolting. You feel yourself clenching around him with the aftershocks. Joel gasps into your neck, squeezes your tits over your shirt.
“Fuck, just like that, gonna come in this sweet cunt. Shit, that’s it.” His thrusts falter, hips slamming into yours.
You feel him twitch inside you as he comes, ropes of hot cum painting the inside of you, his stuttering breath at your ear.
You stay as you are for a moment, both gasping for breath, hearts hammering in your chests. His embrace is suddenly tender, muscles shifting as he relaxes against you. You don’t say anything, but he presses a kiss to the side of your neck, and that simple gesture opens a floodgate in your chest.
He pulls out of you but keeps his arm around you, guides you both down to lie on the couch, your back pressed to his front. The light in the apartment feels different than it did earlier, the orange hue warmer, kinder than it was.
Joel peppers kisses along the back of your neck and over each shoulder, his strong arm keeping you firmly against him. He wraps a thick thigh over both of yours and tightens it, anchoring you in place. You sigh in contentment, head quieter than it’s been for months, years, possibly.
“I didn’t hurt you?” He says into your hair, voice low.
“No, Joel.”
“You sure? I’m sorry if I was too rough. I don’t- I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“I liked it, Joel.”
He chuckles darkly, hooks his chin over your shoulder and teases the skin under your ear with his teeth.
“Fuckin’ filthy, aren’t you? Always knew you were.” He presses his nose to your neck, inhales deeply. “Perfume’s nice, by the way.”
792 notes · View notes
vienssunshine · 6 months
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The dialogues you write for maki are so goddamn heavenly, please, what is it like when her girl squirts on her glasses (bonus if in the next morning, everyone in the dormitory heard them)? 😣🙏
Just Can't Focus
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pairing: Maki Zenin x fem!reader nsfw: semi-public sex, cunnilingus, squirting word count: 1.8k author’s note: thank you so much for the request! you're so sweet!! i had a lot of fun adapting your request into a fic, hope you enjoy! also, maki looked so good in the latest episode. i need her... description: something about watching you train gets maki so riled up.
The day has been long. 
Nothing slows down time quite like having to hold a plank, and Gojo, who’s in charge of training you and your peers today, has been making the hours crawl by with countless strength training exercises. Your core is aching and your legs feel like they’re about to give out, which is why it feels a blessing when your teacher gets a phone call that pulls him away into a meeting with the higher-ups.
“Pair up and find a place around campus to practice sparring while I’m gone,” Gojo instructs, “We’ll meet back up in 30. Don’t forget to have fun!” He waves as he heads towards the school, leaving you and the other exhausted students alone in the field.
Nobara turns her head to you, about to speak, when an arm interlocks with yours. You look to your side to see that Maki has claimed you as her partner.
“Maki!” Nobara huffs, “I wanted to spar with her.”
Maki shrugs. “Be quicker then.” 
Nobara’s face darkens with a scowl and you hurry to resolve the conflict. “I’ll spar with you next time,” you tell Nobara, “Promise.”
“You better.” She crosses her arms and walks towards the other sorcerers, annoyed she’ll have to partner up with either idiot #1 or idiot #2 (Yuuji or Megumi). 
“Let’s go find a spot,” Maki says, though she begins pulling you off towards a forest nearby, seemingly already having a place in mind. 
Soon you’re past the tree line, and before you can get a word out about the sparring drill, your back is pressed up against a tree and Maki’s lips are on yours. 
It catches you by surprise—Maki tends to be unpredictable, a reason why it’s hard for you to beat her in a match—but it’s instinctive how you fall into the rhythm of her lips, melting into her touch as you kiss her back. Her leg nestles between yours and her strong hands land on your sides, brushing along the curve of your waist as she leans into you. 
“Need you…now,” she mumbles in between kisses, the rasp of her voice confessing desperation. Even though you and Maki have been a thing for a while now, she knows how to mask her true feelings, so until she had you pinned against a tree, you didn’t have a clue that such a need was building up in her all afternoon. 
“Yeah?” you say, resting your arms atop her built shoulders, pulling her closer. “Can’t wait until after training?”
Maki tugs off her uniform jacket, leaving her in the white long sleeve she wears under her uniform, and lays it on the grass by your feet. “No, so come sit down.”
Her mouth is inseparable from yours as she helps lower your body down onto her jacket, and the moment you’re sitting down, she’s kneeled between your thighs, reaching up past your skirt to dip her fingers into the waistband of your black tights. 
“Lift up your hips for me, pretty,” she murmurs against your lips. You listen, and she pulls your tights off, and then your underwear. It’s a little strange, how you’re half-naked in one of the school’s forests, but you have a hard time caring when Maki hooks her arms underneath your thighs and brings her mouth to your cunt.
“Already so wet for me,” she laughs, pressing a kiss to your pelvis, “Have you been thinking about me too?”
“Maybe,” you say, though the evidence speaks for itself. How could you not? For the entirety of the strength training session, all you could notice was Maki. With the way her defined muscles flexed as she worked through Gojo’s ceaseless exercises, it was impossible not to. You had to look over and take in how the effort contorted her elegant features, had to hear how it sharpened her breath. And every single time you glanced over to her, without fail, she was already looking at you.
“You were just as distracted,” you say, trying to keep still despite the sensation of her hot breath fanning against your cunt. “You really should be paying attention during training.”
She smirks. “I think it’ll be easier to focus after I have you cum on my tongue.”
Her warm mouth connects with your folds, forcing a choked gasp from your throat. You rock your hips back and away, caught off guard at how quickly sharp pleasure cuts through your insides, but Maki’s strong arms keep you locked in place. Her eyes flutter shut at the contact and she deeply inhales, finally gratified after wanting to be with you like this all afternoon.
Your head lolls to the side when she begins to move, licking long stripes up from your hole to your clit with a flat tongue. Pulling up the fabric of your skirt gives you an unobstructed view and you watch, eyes lidded, as she pushes her mouth further into your cunt, just unable to get enough. Then she pushes her palms gently against your thighs, opening yourself up further to her. You allow it, legs falling open, and lean back against the tree behind you.
“There we go,” she says, “Relax for me, okay?” 
You realize why when a finger circles the outside of your hole. Maki’s tongue continues to bathe your clit with wet swipes of her tongue, only increasing the amount of slick coating your opening. She uses this lubrication to shallowly slip the tip of her finger in and out of you, stimulating the tight ring of muscle circling your entrance. Then, she lengthens her movements, pushing in deeper with every thrust of her fingers. Your breath comes out shaky. “Fuck…Maki…”
She begins to move her finger inside of you, pushing it up against your walls in a way that has heat rushing to your lower stomach. Your eyes flutter shut and each pump of her finger pushes a soft moan from your lips.
“If you wanted to make it up to me for being such a distraction all afternoon, those pretty noises of yours are doing the job,” Maki says.
She adds another finger, which only makes you call out her name once more in that breathy voice of yours she adores. The pressure is immense, especially with her fingers being so strong and precise. 
“It’s…so much-” you say, pressing your eyebrows together. You don’t think you’ve had Maki eat you out and finger you at the same time before; the sensation is overwhelming. Every harsh thrust of her fingers is complemented by a sweet lick on your clit, a two-front war that makes you feel like you’re losing your mind. Any attempt at escaping the pleasure is nonexistent with Maki’s hold on you, and soon your stomach is twisting, like a violent undercurrent is ripping through your lower half. It’s new, and more intense than you’ve experienced before. 
“Maki I…I feel weird…” you say, squirming. 
“You’re doing great, pretty girl,” Maki responds before diving her tongue into your folds once more.
“I’m serious…Maki…I don’t know…” Your fingers tighten in the grass around you.
“Does it feel good?” Maki asks.
“Feels…s’good,” you respond.
“Then relax, enjoy it.” 
You want to listen to her, you really do, but there’s a hesitant voice in your head, one telling you that if you give in to the pleasure, you’ll be giving in completely. You’re just so full; there’s so much pent-up energy in your body that’s begging to be released. But the more she touches you, the more encouragement and praise leaving her mouth, the less power you have over the force building up inside your core. 
“I feel like I’m gonna…” 
She curls her fingers inside you, pressing against your sweet spot with a force that has your body shaking and seconds away from release.
“Fuck—Maki—m’gonna—“
You’re unprepared when your orgasm hits you, and because it hits you hard, you’re helpless when fluid rushes out of you at the intense sensation. You throw your head back, pleasure rolling through your lower half and being expelled from your body. Unaffected, Maki continues to finger fuck you, only prolonging the ruthless orgasm she’s sending through your body.
“Attagirl,” Maki says, grinning. 
You’re swearing, or moaning, maybe a mixture of both, as the climax pummels your poor body, and you hold onto Maki’s arms for dear life, fingers digging into the fabric of her white long sleeve.
When her movements slow, coaxing you back into reality, the haze washes off and you realize that you’ve squirted for the first time–all over Maki’s face.
You sit up. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to—fuck, your glasses.”
She cuts you off. “It’s hot, pretty. Don’t apologize for something you don’t have to, mkay?” She takes her glasses from her face and rubs the liquid coating them off on her jacket beneath you. 
“I’ve just…that’s never happened before,” you say, still reeling from the sensation.
“Makin’ me feel special,” she says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. Then, she stands, offering you her hand. “Are you okay to walk? Everyone should be regrouping by now. I think if we stay any longer, I’ll want to try to make that happen again.”
“Uh…yeah, let’s go,” you say, grabbing onto it and letting her help you up. You’re still grappling with what just happened; you didn’t even know that could happen. 
Dazed, you find your underwear on the sleeve of Maki’s jacket, uncrumple it, and pull it back up on you.
“Thanks for that,” Maki says, threading her hand into yours for the rest of the walk out of the forest.
You and Maki are the last to join the group. Aside from Gojo, who’s meeting must’ve run long. Guess training ends early today.  
As you walk up to the rest of the sorcerers, Yuuji tilts his head and then points at Maki, “Did you lose your jacket?” 
Your eyes widen as you realize that Maki isn’t wearing it, she’s still in her button-up. Though, it’s not like she could put it back on, your fluids had soaked the material. “I took it off when we were sparring. Guess I forgot it,” she responds.
“Is that why you took off your tights too?” Panda asks, pointing to your bare legs. Heat rushes to your face.
Maki scowls. “Last chance to mind your own or I’ll be your sparring partner next time.” 
“Alright! Okay!” The rest of them hurry off but fail to do a good job pretending they aren’t whispering about the two of you.
“I’ll go grab our clothes and put them in the wash, so you go take a break okay?” She grins. “I hope I didn’t work you too hard.”
“How considerate,” you tease, “But I would prefer it if you came back to my room after doing the laundry. Maybe then you’ll be able to tire me out.” 
“Alright, I’ll see you soon.”
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gurugirl · 9 months
Text
Let Me Show You
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Based on this request
best friend's dad!harry x reader | forbidden relationship
Summary: Your best friend's dad, Mr. Styles, is quite good at giving advice, amongst other things OR How your illicit affair with Mr. Styles began
Word Count: 6.3k
Warning: 18+ only, smut, cheating, age gap
best friend's dad!harry masterlist
Mr. Styles had a way about him that you admired. He was sure of himself and was good at just about everything he did. He was also really good at listening and giving advice. When you told him about how your boyfriend had hurt your feelings and how you were considering breaking up with him he told you that you could do better, that you deserved better.
And you knew he was right. He was always right. So when you broke up with Randy you didn’t once look back or regret it.
To Mr. Styles: I did it. Thank you for your advice, Mr. Styles.  
You texted Harry as you got into your car in the parking lot of the sandwich shop where you broke up with your boyfriend.
Fae would probably call you weird for texting her dad. She’d wonder what you were doing with his number in the first place.
But Harry insisted you text him after breaking up with Randy. He said he wanted to make sure you were okay and that you’d gone through with it. That he didn’t want to hear any excuses as to why you couldn’t do it. So he gave you his number and he took yours, telling you that if you didn’t reach out to him he’d be calling you himself.
From Mr. Styles: You’re welcome, Y/n. Where are you right now?
You started your car up just as he texted back.
To Mr. Styles: The parking lot at Dixie’s. I’m about to drive home.
You could see that he’d read the text right away and your heart skipped a beat when you saw the text bubbles indicating he was texting you back.
Fae would also hate that you had the biggest crush on her dad. The biggest. It was unhealthy actually, the kind of crush you had.
See, Mr. Styles wasn’t just someone you admired for his confidence and thoughtful advice. He was also gorgeous. His eyes were seafoam, crystal green. His lips were pink berry tinted. When he smiled he had dimples that carved into his cheeks. His jawline was chiseled and his dark hair was thick and wavy. He was tall with a fit body and broad shoulders, tattoos, big hands, a deep voice, and the most sex appeal you’d ever seen in one person.
From Mr. Styles: I’ll meet you at your apartment. I’m in the area anyway. I’d like to hear how the conversation went with your boyfriend.
From Mr. Styles: Ex-boyfriend.
You’d just broke up with Randy but you’d already forgotten all about him as you texted your best friend’s dad back with a large grin on your face.
To Mr. Styles: Okay. See you soon!
Your apartment complex was a little run down. It was in a safeish area but it was what you could afford with your wage as a waitress.
When you pulled into the parking lot you spotted Harry’s car immediately. His car stood out like a sore thumb amongst all the used, beat-up, and older models.
You quickly walked toward his Land Rover and watched him get out. You slowed your stroll to take him in.
That was another thing about him. He always looked so well put together. Harry was wearing dark blue slacks with a crisp white button-up shirt tucked in, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a few buttons undone from the top down, leather loafers, and his hair was coifed on his head just so. Rings on his fingers, and his signature cross necklace, the pendant dangling right at the top center of his well-defined pecs. A gorgeous sight.
“Hello, darling,” he greeted you and pulled you in for an easy hug.
You hugged back and smiled as you pressed your cheek to his shoulder, he smelled nice.
Backing away from the hug you looked up at him, “Hi, Mr. Styles.”
He loved that you were so polite. So sweet. Yet he knew that you had a crush on him and that he loved the most.
You led him up to your apartment. This was the first time he would come inside. He’d picked up Fae a few times so he knew where you lived. But the idea that he’d be stepping into your little home made you feel nervous.
You kept your place tidy most of the time. You had pictures framed and hung everywhere. Some art pieces that you made yourself for fun. Your couch was cheap but it looked nice. Your rug was from Ikea and was a splurge.
But that wasn’t why you were nervous. It was because this man you’d lusted after for years was coming into your private space with you. Alone.
You weren’t dumb. You knew the implications. You understood on some level that Harry thought you were pretty. But of course, he was married. And he was your father’s age. So it was unlikely that this meant anything. But still. The fact that he was conveniently in the area and said he was coming over, knowing you wouldn’t say no… well it certainly wasn’t out of the question that something could happen.
Harry stood close behind you as you unlocked and opened your door, stepping in and allowing him space to enter behind you before you closed the door. Sunlight came through your windows and it was bright enough that you didn’t bother to flick on any extra lights out of habit. You didn’t like to turn on lights when you didn’t need to. Who wanted to pay a needlessly higher electricity bill?
You looked up at Harry as he scrutinized your space in silence for a few beats.
“S’nice, Y/n. Clean and uncluttered. I’m impressed.” He moved past you to look at your wall of framed photos.
You followed and stood next to him, “Well, what did you think? That I was a slob or something,” you chuckled as you looked at your photos.
Harry turned to look at you and the slight grin on his face gave way to a wider smile, “Okay, sassy girl. I was just giving you a compliment. No need to get mouthy.”
You laughed and looked down at your cuticles, not knowing how to respond exactly. He had you feeling a bit empty-headed in that moment.
But then you brought your gaze back up to his and remembered your manners, “Would you like something to drink, Mr. Styles? I’ve got water, strawberry soda, orange juice… uh… almond milk–“
“A glass of water will be perfect. Thank you.”
Harry watched you traipse to your kitchen quickly as he continued to look around as he sat down on your little couch and waited for you.
Harry wasn’t sure exactly why he was with you alone in your apartment. He knew he shouldn’t be there. He knew better than to entertain the kinds of dirty thoughts he often had about his daughter’s best friend. But, well, here he was. And you were adorable wearing your short cutoff jean shorts and white razorback tank top.
When you returned with two glasses of water you sat down next to Harry and nervously smiled.
“Thank you, darling,” Harry lifted the glass upward before bringing it to his lips and taking a big gulp. You followed suit and then placed the glass on your side table.
“Tell me about how it went. Did he try to change your mind?”
You swallowed and nodded, “It was hard. I hated doing it but also it felt really good. He promised me he could change and asked me to give him another chance. But I just remembered what you told me, about how I deserve better and I kept that in mind and stood my ground.”
Harry kept his eyes on you as you spoke and every bit of your body and skin that Harry’s irises landed on heated up from his gaze. You wiggled in your seat under his examination.
“Stood your ground. Good girl.”
You could have passed out. He’d never called you that before. And the way it sounded coming from his mouth had your throat going dry.
“You do deserve better, you know. You’re too good to waste your time on a boy like Rudy.”
“Randy.” You corrected.
“What’s that?” Harry raised his brows at you.
“Uh… his name is Randy. You said Rudy.”
Harry nodded slowly and looked down at your lips with a smirk before settling his gaze back onto your eyes, “Right. Randy. Definitely would be a shame to get his name wrong.”
You nervously laughed and shook your head, “Oh it’s okay! You know… I don’t care actually. Not important.”
Harry watched you squirm nervously as he licked his lips. As if he was readying himself for a meal. You did look mouthwatering. You pretty much always did. And he could admit that he’d like a taste at the very least.
“And what are your plans for the rest of the day?”
Shaking your head and shrugging your shoulders you looked down at your lap. His intense gaze was making you blurry and dumb. It was like listening to him speak another language and you had to translate the words in your head before you could understand and then respond.
“I’m… uh… was just gonna maybe call Fae. Go out later since I’m off tomorrow.”
Harry nodded, “And where would you go out to?”
You cleared your throat and kept your eyes down so you could breathe, “Thinking about that bar just up the street. We haven’t been yet and it’s so nearby–“
“I need you to look at me when you’re speaking to me.”
You’d never whipped your head upward so fast in your life. That was another thing about Mr. Styles. If he told you to do something you never hesitated. “Sorry, sir.”
He kept an easy grin on his face as he leaned his back into your couch cushions, crossing his ankle over his knee, and then moving his arm along the back of the couch, “No need to be sorry. Just want to see your pretty eyes when you’re talking is all.”
You could feel the warmth from his thigh radiating against your bare leg. You looked down to see how close he was sitting to you before quickly planting your gaze back on his.
He saw your glance downward and looked himself to note the proximity, “Am I sat too close to you?” You shook your head quickly, “No. That’s fine. The couch is small anyway. Can’t really help it.” You smiled and tried to chill out but the way he was dragging his irises over your skin and along the material of your shirt that stretched softly over your breasts before bringing them back up to look into your eyes had you sweating. And you hated that you’d begun to grow a little wet in your panties.
“Can I ask you a personal question? You don’t have to answer but I’m curious about something.”
You tried to focus your eyes on his and not look away as you swallowed and nodded, “Yes. Sure.”
He brought his arm across his body and touched the side of your neck, gently brushing the pads of his fingers against your pulse point causing you to inhale sharply, “This. Is this from Randy?”
You blinked your eyes and put your fingers on the spot he was touching and remembered that Randy had given you a hickey. When you first noticed that gave you a hickey it was quite large. You’d been covering it with makeup but now that it had mostly faded you didn’t think anyone would notice it.
You nodded, “Yeah. From a while ago. It was really big but now it’s mostly gone.”
“Did it feel good when he gave it to you?”
You dropped your mouth open in surprise. You hadn’t expected him to ask that. But you also didn’t want to not answer the man.
You smiled and dropped your hand down into your lap while Harry’s fingers remained on your neck, softly brushing at your sensitive skin, “It did. I hate it now because it’s from him, but… at the time… yeah.”
Mr. Styles nodded and you felt his thumb press over the spot before lowering down to the top of your clavicle.
“Did he always make you feel good?”
You were barely holding it together. Between the way he was touching your neck, and how intense his eyes were on you it felt like you were having an out-of-body experience.
“What do you mean?”
“You two had sex, correct? Or at least fooled around a bit?”
You began to pant as Harry’s finger wrapped gently along the side of your neck, his thumb at the front softly stroking your flesh. “Yeah. Um… not always. No.”
“Okay. Did he make you come?”
Your eyes fluttered shut for a moment as you sucked air into your lungs and felt his thigh press against yours.
Shaking your head you opened your eyes back up to look at him, “No. Never.”
Harry cocked his head and furrowed his brows, “Never? You’ve never made yourself come either?”
“Oh! I mean… yeah. I just mean that I never came with Randy. He wasn’t… didn’t listen.”
Nodding his head his furrowed brow softened, “Sounds about right. Has anyone ever made you come? Or just yourself?”
You knew he could feel the way your blood was pumping through your pulse point. Your heart was going wild in your chest as you watched Harry’s eyes darken, “Just by myself.”
“S’what I thought.” Suddenly Harry’s hand left your neck as he stood up from the couch. He put his hand out to you to grab, “Let’s do an experiment. But we’ll need to move this into your bedroom if you don’t mind.”
Harry pulled you up from the couch and kept his big palm wrapped around yours as he walked you to your bedroom.
Harry pointed to your bed as he looked at you. “Climb up, love. Don’t be shy.”
You let out a small nervous laugh through your nose as you sat on your bed and let your legs dangle off the edge. You watched as he got onto his knees in front of you and began untying your tennis shoes, taking each one off before pulling your socks off your feet.
He looked up at you softly as he put his hands on your knees, “Let me show you what it’s supposed to feel like. So next time some asshole says he doesn’t know how to get you off you’ll remember this and you’ll know the loser’s just too lazy to work for your pleasure,” he slid his hands up your thighs as you began to nod quickly. His warm hands gliding over your skin and to the fray of your jean shorts was more erotic than anything Randy had ever done with you.
“Is that okay? You want me to show you?”
You continued nodding as your breaths deepened. You could already feel your nipples tightening under your thin bra and you were positive Harry could see it.
“Is that a yes? I’d like to hear you say it to me. I appreciate the nod but your voice is too pretty not to use.”
“Yes, sir. Please.”
Harry grinned, “And I get a please too? So sweet for me.”
Harry sat up so his hips were against the side of your bed as he plucked your button from its spot and then unzipped slowly, “We’re gonna get these clothes off of you. I need access to all your bits. Understand?”
“Um… yes. Of course.” You pulled at the bottom hem of your shirt to pull it off but Harry grasped your wrists and tsk’d at you.
“Ah ah ah… Let me show you what’s it like to be treated as well as you deserve. We’re not in any hurry. Are we?”
Shaking your head you whispered, “No. Sorry.”
Harry pulled your hands to his mouth and kissed the inside of each of your wrists, “Don’t be sorry.”
Mr. Styles began to gently tug your shorts down your legs, leaving you in your yellow Sponge Bob panties. That was embarrassing. You hadn’t expected anyone to be seeing your panties and you’d totally forgotten which pair you threw on that morning until Harry smirked and inspected the cotton fabric stretched over your hips, “Cute. I like these,” he rubbed his thumbs over the edge of the fabric at your hips slowly before taking your tank top and pulling it up over your head as he stood up.
You were adorable. Little yellow cartoon panties and a white stretchy bra with a tiny pink ribbon at the center. Mismatched but practical he supposed. Didn’t matter anyway. They would soon be off.
Harry put his big hands on your hips and pushed you deeper into the bed, crawling with you. You propped yourself up by your elbows as he smoothed his hands up your tummy and to the underside of your breasts before bringing one hand down to your left thigh and pushing it outward just a bit. He turned his gaze to the fabric of your wet crotch. The yellow material was darker where your arousal had seeped out.
He licked his lips again and grunted as he thumbed along the elastic that clung to your inner thigh and he sucked in a sharp breath, “So wet already? Honestly, I didn’t expect this, Y/n. S’a very nice surprise for me. Do you get wet easily?”
You shook your head. Your lips were already parted as you began to respond, “No. Usually takes a bit.”
Harry grinned as he thumbed the wet patch on your panties and quickly found the spot where your clit was, “I consider this the highest form of a compliment. Like a little gift just for me.”
You let out a shaky breath as you watched him smooth his thumb over your panties and press into your button before bringing his digit to his mouth and sucking it into his mouth.
He had a devious smirk on his face when he pulled his thumb out and spoke, “No shower today?”
You gasped and tried to close your thighs together but he pushed your legs apart, his fingers digging into the soft inner part of your thighs. You put an arm up over your eyes to shield yourself from embarrassment.
It was true. You hadn’t showered that day. Not yet. You planned on going out to celebrate being single with Fae later on and you’d shower before that, but you hadn’t had the time yet. It’d been a little over 24 hours since you had.
“Don’t be embarrassed, Y/n. Your little pussy’s so fragrant so I just had to ask. Hate when it doesn’t smell or taste like pussy. It’s just another nice little surprise for me is all.”
You felt him pull your panties down your legs and you moved your arm to watch. You were mortified. You knew you were “fragrant” down there. Which was why you’d planned on showering before going out. But now you had your wet pussy bare and smelly before Harry Styles who pointed this fact out to you.
“I was going to shower before going out tonight…” you moaned when he dragged his thumb through your crease.
“You’re not going out tonight. You and I have work to do here. Don’t we?”
Your eyes were burning and your vision was fuzzy, which you knew to be from lust. You were so turned on that all your senses were being affected by him.
Nodding your head you spoke softly, “Yeah. Okay.”
Harry sat up and leaned over your frame his face coming in close to yours, “I forgot my manners completely. Got so caught up with you. Made me feel so needy that I nearly forgot we haven’t even kissed yet.”
You were just a melty little puddle of breaths and pumping blood under him as his lips pressed into yours. He tried to start off slowly. You could tell he was going in gently but you were shaky and out of your mind. You licked over his lips and grasped onto his collar to pull him into you and deepen the kiss.
Harry sputtered a laugh but was cut off when you licked your tongue into his mouth.
From there, Harry’s mouth pushed against yours hard and his lips and tongue guided your mouth. His fingers found your wet folds as he continued kissing you.
You gasped into his mouth when he slid two fingers inside of you. He hadn’t bothered to take his rings off and you could feel the metal against your soft skin as he pumped his long digits and in and out slowly.
When the bed was suddenly directly under your back, you realized he’d pushed you down flat as he parted from the kiss. He looked over your frame under him and his hands were sweeping over your bra before he kneaded gently, slowly pushing one hand underneath your back to unhook the clasp of your bra. You arched your back so he could reach it and the moment the metal hook was undone the stretchy fabric was pulled from your tits and Harry’s mouth was on you, sucking and lapping at your nipples
And then you heard him moan when he latched on particularly hard to one of your nipples and he placed his fingers back inside your cunt.
You could come. Just like that. His long fingers stretched and poked deep while his mouth worked over your tits softly before pulling your nipple harshly.
Sticking your fingers into his hair and closing your eyes you moaned loudly and began to writhe against his hand harder when you felt your orgasm close in. It was a shock how quickly it began to unwind but you were at Harry’s mercy and he was doing everything right.
Harry pushed himself up and smiled down at you with slick pink lips as he pulled his fingers from your cunt, “So sensitive too. How is it that you’ve never come with anyone, hmm? When you’re this reactive to me?” He circled his thumb over your clit teasingly and you bucked up into his hand and groaned just as he pulled it away.
Mr. Styles dipped in to kiss your lips again before moving down your body and hovering his face over your pussy as he looked up at you, “Do you want to come?”
You were already on edge, just about to tip into a new realm as you nodded hastily, “Yes, sir. I do.”
The smirk on his face was suddenly hidden as he lowered his lips to your clit and licked. The obnoxiously loud moan that fell from your lips had him laughing into your cunt as he lapped you up and reinserted his fingers.
His free hand held your opposite thigh down and the pressure that built up again was causing you to shake uncontrollably. You stuck your hands into his hair again and gasped at the way his lips worked your wet pussy, the way his fingers dug into you deeply and nudged into that yummy spot that you only ever got to enjoy with your vibrator.
“Ooh! My god! Mr. Styles! Mr. Styles…” You were powerless under him. The way he was sucking your clit into his mouth felt exquisite but at the same time, it was like your blood and guts were boiling hot and filling your limbs, searing your skin.
Harry hadn’t heard a woman squeal in a long time. He used to enjoy things like this with his wife but it had been a minute since she wanted to really play with him in the way he liked. All his skill and sex appeal were wasted all these years. But now he was getting to finally unleash his prowess on you. Such a delicate and sexy little thing. You deserved it. He imagined it more times than he should, doing the very thing he was at that moment, making you wobble and wet his face and shriek as you came.
He watched your soft tits shake and goosebumps cover your skin as he held you down and gently licked you as you came down from your release. It was incredible. So pretty to see you spread out and vulnerable for him.
When you finally opened your eyes Harry’s face was still between your legs. His cheek against your inner thigh as he looked up at you, “Better?”
You breathed out a laugh and nodded as you pushed yourself up to your elbows, “Yeah. Better.”
Harry sat back to his shins and you noticed right away the massive bulge pushing at the front of his pants. You reached your hand toward him and looked at the lump he was sporting, “Can I? Do you want…”
The grin on Harry’s face told you he knew what you were asking but he wasn’t going to let you off so easily. He wanted you to say what you wanted, “Can you… what?”
“You’re hard.”
“Tends to happen when I’m eating pussy,” he licked his lips with his eyes on you.
“Do you want me to… like… give you a blow job?”
“Hmm…” Harry squinted his eyes as he began to undo his pants slowly, “Maybe. Would you be against letting me fuck you?”
Your heart rate increased once again. Sex? With this man? You were nodding quickly before the words left your mouth, “Yeah. I mean… I’m not against it. I’d like that. I… I don’t have any condoms here–“
Harry pulled at your wrist and shushed you, “It’s okay. If you don’t want to that’s fine. But I’m clean. Haven’t been with anyone but Fae’s mom in a very long time.”
“Oh.” The reminder that Harry was married to your best friend’s mom made you step outside of the moment as you looked down toward where he’d opened his pants. His grey boxer briefs peeked out from under, his clear erection curving beneath the fabric. He looked so yummy and you’d love to feel him. But this was wrong, wasn’t it?
Harry noticed your hesitation and he pulled his pants up as he started to tug at his zipper but you were quickly reaching for his hand and looking up at him with those sweet eyes he couldn’t stop thinking about, “No! Please. I want you. I’m on birth control. So… And I always used a condom before so I’m good.”
Harry raised his brows at you in question, “Positive? You’re not just saying that to make me feel better are you? You want me to fuck you?”
“So much. Yes. Please.”
His lips smashed against yours when he pulled you into his chest. You could feel his heart pounding under his shirt. He was excited too.
When he’d gotten you laid back and spread out he pulled his pants and briefs off and removed his shirt. You were sure his nice clothes were going to wind up wrinkled with the way he tossed them into the floor but he didn’t seem to care.
And you’d seen his body before at the beach when you went swimming, and in his house when he walked around after working out and didn’t bother putting on a shirt… But you’d never seen his cock. And certainly not hard and leaking like it was.
His heavy shaft swayed as he positioned himself back in between your legs and he pushed the tops of his thighs to the back of yours. You couldn’t help it when you reached down to stroke him. He was thick and warm and the smooth, ridged skin felt delicious under your palm.
“Feels so good having your little hand on me like that, Y/n. Don’t think you know how many times I’ve imagined this very moment.”
You were still slick from everything before but you felt yourself clench and drip just imagining how good it would feel to have him stuffed inside of you. He was long too. So you knew it would reach into your cervix and make you ache in the way your vibrator did.
“I’ve imagined it too. I’ve wanted this for a long time, Mr. Styles.”
Harry keened and sucked at his teeth as he rocked his hips softly and began to slide the underside of his shaft through your folds. You kept your palm over the top of him as he moved up and down, slowly wetting himself with you. He kept his eyes on yours as he nudged his tip into your clit and then to your entrance, “You ready? You really want this?”
“Yes! Please!” Your chest was heaving in anticipation as you moved your hand from his shaft and held onto his forearms.
It was slow at first. He entered your tight muscle with a small snap and pulled back before pushing in deeper. You could see his muscles straining, his dark tattoos against his tan skin, his hair falling over his forehead, pink lips parted, nostrils flaring. He was enjoying your body. It felt good for him and you could see that.
“Holy fuck…” he grunted as he continued to bury himself deeper inside. He was already shaking like a teenage virgin. Your tight pussy wrapped around him, coated him, opened up for him slowly…
You choked out a garbled moan when he finally bottomed out. It was deep and you were right. Your cervix felt his tip kissing it with each thrust.
He began to roll his hips a little faster as he sat up and pulled your legs over his thighs, lifting your bottom off the mattress so he could fuck into you deeper yet and rub your clit to make you tip over the edge before he did. He knew he was going to come unbelievably fast. You were too pretty and felt too fucking good.
Harry’s hands stayed at your hips to keep you in place over his thighs as he plunged into your wet cunt over and over again.
“Hear that, Y/n? Hear how we sound together?”
You moaned a yes and gasped at how full he felt inside of you. It was noisy. You were absolutely soaked and the syrupy sound of his wide cock dipping into your drippy pussy, parting your walls was dirty. Soppy.
“How’s it feel, Y/n? Tell me what you need.” Harry’s words came out in panted breaths as rolled into you and released one of your hips to manipulate your clit with his fingers causing you to coo loudly.
“Oh! Mr. Styles! It’s so good. So deep, Fuck!”
Your bed creaked under you as he began to work into you even more and push into you deeper. You seemed to enjoy the way his dick poked into your cervix so he’d give you more of that.
“Yeah? I’m so deep in your tummy? Gonna give me your come? Let me feel you fall apart on my cock like this? Hmm?”
The view of his thick shaft, shiny and creamy with you as he plunged into your entrance, your lips gripping him tight as he pulled back and pushed in, was going to be something he’d be fucking his fist to for a long time to come.
“Yes! Please!” Your tits were swaying as he swiveled his cock into you painfully deep, hips pasted to yours, only pushing in deeper and deeper, balls tucked into your bum, slick with the way your arousal had melted down over him as he fucked into you.   
Harry gasped and clenched his teeth at the way you squeezed around him tightly.
When he finally pulled back to his tip you both caught your breaths. He was so close to coming and you were on the edge already. Just as he intended.
He gently thumbed at your clit and watched your face contort, small puffs of breath and whiney gasps falling from your lungs.
“Y/n. Can you look at me, sweet girl?”
You peeled your eyes opened and set your pupils onto his. You were already looking absolutely fucked out, in a total daze, and that made him smile.
“Where do you want me to come? Want to know beforehand so I’m not doing anything you’re not okay with. Because I’m gonna come very soon.”
You swallowed and blinked your bleary eyes. Harry’s chest was rising and falling heavily and his skin was flushed.
“Want your come inside of me. Is that okay?”
Harry breathed out a laugh of disbelief and nodded, “More than okay. S’perfect in fact. You’re gonna milk my cock good, aren’t you? Want me to fill your tummy with up nice and full?” Harry dipped in a few inches before backing out to the tip again and you whimpered.
“Yes. I want to be full with you.”
Harry closed his eyes and called on all his strength to not come that very second. Your soft rounded eyes looking at him in that way that told him you needed him while his cock was inside of you was nearly too much. He was obsessed. There was no way he wouldn’t want to do this with you again.
But the moment he had composed himself and gotten his second wind he looked back down at your pretty body lying under him and he began to move into you again, getting deeper and deeper until his pace had you being pushed upward at each thrust. Your tits bounced and your bed creaked. Harry's hips rocking into yours was harsh, his skin smacking into yours, wet slushy sounds.
His thumb circled over you tightly again and you moaned as you grasped his thighs bent under yours.
Your eyes began to flutter as your body lost all control of its motions. Your mouth dropped open and your face twisted up. Harry watched you contort your mouth and the little noises you were making egged him on to pound into you harder as his thumb worked your clit back and forth.
Everything was wet. Harry’s whole lap was drenched in you. You’d dripped down your thighs and over his balls on the tops of his thighs. It was the exact kind of sex he’d been missing for so long. Messy and smelly and hot.
You suddenly gasped and then went quiet as your orgasm began to take over. You clenched and pulsed over Harry with your mouth wide, your entire body trembling.
“Ooh fuck me… Fuck, Y/n… Oh shit…” It was too good. Too decadent. The way your cunt clamped down and spasmed around his heavy cock sent him over the edge.
And just like he said, your pussy milked him for everything he was worth. He pushed into you deeply, groaning your name between curses as his balls tightened and emptied into his long shaft and pushed out the tip, spurts of his warm come flooding your insides as he stilled his hips against yours snugly.
You could feel his cock throbbing inside of you as he moaned your name. You forced your eyes open to look at him. To watch as he orgasmed inside of you, his come claiming your body and ruining you for anyone else. His head was thrown back and he held your hips possessively as he emptied everything he had into you.
Your brain was fuzzy and your ears rang as he lowered himself down over you and brought his mouth against yours softly.
He was still pulsing the slightest as your mouths moved together lazily. You put your hands into his hair and sighed into the kiss. You hadn’t felt so content in a long time. Maybe ever. He truly did know how to do it right. He said he was going to show you what it was supposed to feel like and he did. Now settling for anything less just didn’t make sense.
When he pushed himself up to look down at you he had a haphazard smile on his face, “How was that?” He knew the answer.
You laughed and grinned, “The best. Better than my vibrator even.”
Harry breathed out a laugh and shook his head, “You gonna let me do that again sometime?”
“Thought you said you and I had work to do and that I can’t go out tonight?”
He furrowed his brow, “Yeah?”
“So, I kind of thought… we’d do that again. Like later. Since it sounded like you were gonna keep me busy all night. Or did you not mean that?”
Harry laughed and you got to see his gorgeous dimples before he pushed his nose against yours, “You want it again tonight? I wasn’t sure you’d be up for it. But we can certainly make a night of it. I do have to leave at like nine so no one wonders where I am.”
You turned your head to look at the clock and then back to Harry, your smile giddy and wide, “Good. I’ve got you for five more hours then.”
“Mmhmm…” he hummed against your mouth and kissed you before looking back down at you again. “But I meant beyond tonight too. I think we could have some fun together.”
You bit your lip. You couldn’t believe the kind of day you’d had. It started with dread when you woke up thinking about how you were going to break up with Randy. And now here you were with Mr. Styles’ cock stuffed inside your pussy, his come starting to leak out onto your comforter slowly as he asked to extend this little affair. How could you say no?
“Yeah. That sounds really good. I think we could have a lot of fun together too.”
Read next: Desperate
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3K notes · View notes
luveline · 4 months
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Oh oh oh Hotch walking in on a sweet little moment between Jack and reader and he just MELTS when he realises how much he loves them both??💗💗 (pls, only if it inspires you lovely!!)
ty for your request! fem, 1k
“Well, I liked it. I thought it was cool.” 
Hotch puts his keys in the bowl. “It is cool,” Jack says. It's good to hear his voice after so long away. Jack's not often talkative. “It is.” 
“Thank you, Jack.” There's a gap where Hotch can't see anything, peering around the door to the kitchen. He's too far away. “You're such a nice boy. You know that?” you ask. 
You and Jack are talking in the unhurried tones of people close to one another. Hotch has to strain to hear it clearly. “You think so?” 
“I do. You're really, always nice to me. You're brave and smart, Jack, but what I love about you the most is how nice you are. How kind.” 
“Thank you.” 
“You're welcome.” Hotch can see the look on your face in his mind, the softening of your eyes and the small smile. “Do you think you're nice?” 
“Yes!” A small giggle echoes off of the kitchen tiles. “I'm nice. But I want to be brave more.” 
“Yeah? It's a really great thing to be so nice. To be patient with people, and to be forgiving, that's its own kind of bravery, because it can be hard.” 
“It's easy.” 
“I'm glad you think so.” Hotch walks further down the hall and finally spots you. You're sitting on the kitchen floor together with one of Jack's long paper rolls spooled from the door to the cabinets. Jack lays on his stomach with a red marker in his hand, staring at you with wide eyes as you draw. Hotch can't see your face, but he hears your smile. “I love you, Jack.” 
“I love you too… thanks for drawing with me.” 
“I love drawing with you. Maybe I should say thanks to you for doing all the best ones.” 
Jack laughs with the shaken-soda quality only little kids can reach. It immediately gets you laughing, and that combined makes Hotch chuckle. Your heads turn together quickly, Jack's with excitement and yours surprise. “Hi, daddy!” 
“Hi, buddy.”
“You're home early?” Jack asks. 
Hotch steps carefully over the mess of pending and paper, sitting cross-legged at Jack's side. Jack smiles and tips into Hotch's lap without getting up, a flop of limbs into starched pants. Hotch hugs him in similar limbless fashion. 
“Home for two days, at least.” He presses his lips to Jack's ear, speaking softly. “So I hope you saved some room for me on that paper.” 
“I did! Do you want your pyjamas? We've been wearing our pyjamas all day. We had pizza for breakfast.” 
“Jack!” You cover your face. “Jack, that was our secret, oh,” —you part your fingers— “Aaron, I'm sorry, I know he shouldn't lie to you, and I know I shouldn't give him junk but he was asking so nicely and I really didn't wanna make oatmeal.” 
Jack runs away with another bout of giggles, knowing he's entrapped you. 
“You know I don't care,” Hotch says, giving you an easy smile. 
“Yeah, but… I'm supposed to be a good role model,” you say, offering a small smile in return. It half knocks the air from his lungs. 
He reaches across the drawing chaos to touch your face with his thumb. Your cheek is soft. The little wrinkle by your mouth deepens with your smiling, and the incremental weight of your head tilting into his hand is a feeling he can't get enough of. 
“I heard you talking,” he says. 
“What were we saying?” 
“About how he's kind.” He cups your cheek. “I missed you both so much. It's… amazing to be home.”
He knows you like this more than kissing, sometimes. It isn't hard to hold you like you mean everything to him, to caress your skin with a gentle fingertip, drawing a line along the curve of your neck. Your pupils grow to black dimes, and your breathing slows. 
“I missed you too, Agent. We missed you, we've been trying to think of new games to keep busy. See, we're drawing us in different jobs.” 
He's going to look just as soon as he gets enough of you, his thumb pressing circles into your skin.
“Did you frown a lot while you were away?” you ask in a whisper. 
“Can you tell?” 
“A little bit,” you say, still whispering as you lift your hand. You rub the line between his brows. “Should I kiss it away?” 
Jack runs back in with Hotch's pyjamas in his arms, a grey shirt and dark blue pants. “Kiss what?” 
“My wrinkles,” Hotch says. 
“His frowny face.” 
Jack wraps his arms over Hotch's shoulders, almost choking him with the pyjamas. “I'll do it! I will.” 
“Alright, buddy. Fix me up, okay? I can only smile for the next couple of days.” 
Hotch gets a face full of kisses and a great long hug to round it out, Jack in his lap. You're sketching something as they hug but he can't see what until Jack settles, and when he does, he laughs so hard he almost knocks Jack back out of his lap. 
Jack Hotchner, professional frown remover, you've captioned. Jack stands tall and smiling with a love heart on his shirt, his felt marker outlines sewn with care. Aaron Hotchner stands next to him, professional frowner. 
Hotch immediately pesters Jack into giving him the right pens for his own turn. He doesn't caption it, unsure what job he'd label either of you with, but it's clear what he's getting at with speech bubbles full of smiley faces. 
He thinks he might remember your conversation forever without it, but the drawing serves as a nice memento. He only wishes he were a better artist. 
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majestyeverlasting · 1 year
Text
Just Another Friday Night
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This piece contains 18+ content and explores the idea of Eddie as a soft dom.
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
Summary: Eddie Munson's been your best friend since fifth grade. And on a night you think is going to pass just like any other, you realize you can't keep running from the way you feel.
Word Count: 6.2k
A/N: I hath returned. So excited to finally have this one out for you guys! Hopefully the person who requested this many moons ago is still somewhere in my orbit.
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As soon as Eddie feels the pad of your finger meet the skin of his cheek, his lips curl into a soft smile. It brings small lines to the corners of his eyes and reveals the glint of his teeth in the dim light. Concentration sparkles in your eyes like water does beneath the moon. 
Both of you are seated on his messy bed. Him with his legs falling over the edge, and you angled towards him with your legs crossed. His breaths are steady, fingers lax from no longer strumming the strings of his guitar. 
When you finally manage to collect the fallen eyelash from his cheek, you hold out your pointer finger for him to see. If you’d been focussed on the song he was playing rather than studying his face, you never would’ve noticed the tiny hair to begin with. 
“M’kay.” His eyes flick back up to meet yours. “Now what?” 
You raise your finger closer to his lips. “You’ve got a wish to make.”
If there was anyone deserving of one, it was him. It had been almost a year since he crawled out of the Upside Down by the skin of his teeth. Half alive. You remembered all the long nights you’d spent by his hospital bed as he recovered.  
An air of weightlessness washes over both of you after Eddie blows it off your finger. As if somewhere far away, the course of time and happenings shifted in his favor.
“You can finish your song now. Sorry.” Smiling shyly, you tuck your hands into your lap and wiggle to get comfortable.
He smiles wider, but makes a quick work of tampering it back down. 
When he begins playing, you make sure to focus this time, letting the music soak in and flow through you. The passion is palpable, along with the underlying sense of purpose that hangs off the tail end of each resonant note. 
You’d been around to listen to him since the days he played off-tune chords with unsteady hands. As he sat playing now, hair curtained around his face, you knew he could easily captivate thousands if given the chance. 
As the song winds to an end, he looks at you and his fingers slow as the notes dissolve between you. The only thing left for you to do is applaud. Your approval makes him feel like there’s electricity buzzing beneath his veins. 
He absentmindedly strums a few quiet notes to keep his fingers busy, eyes remaining on you. “You’re the first person to hear it all the way through.” 
“Really? I loved it.” Honesty drips like honey from your words. 
He looks down to the fingerboard so you don’t see the faint flush of his cheeks. “Thanks. Lotta practice.”  
When he stands to hang his guitar back on the wall, you watch the way his shoulder blades shift under his t-shirt. You don’t mean to look as hard as you do. There was something captivating about the way he moved. Some days, he couldn’t sit still, but there were also nights like this one where he seemed to have embodied the very essence of ease. 
“So are you gonna add it to your setlist?”
He doesn’t answer right away, making sure Sweetheart is mounted securely. 
“Maybe after I’ve cleaned it up a bit,” he says. “The turnouts have been sick lately.” Gratitude glints in his eyes as they meet yours. 
Playing in front of a crowd at The Hideout was incomparable to selling out a venue like The Garden. But Eddie swore the gratification felt the same. With each new show, it’d been getting harder to find you in the crowd because of how many people had finally started giving him and the boys a chance. He never thought that locating you amid a sea head-bobbing bodies would be a pleasure he ever had. 
“Will I be getting a raise for spreading the word?” You tilt your head and bite back a smile.
He plays along as easily as breathing, biceps flexing as he crosses his arms. “You already eat my snacks, steal my jewelry, and make me drive you around,” he lists. “I don’t know what else there is to offer you, but it sure as hell won’t be Benjamin’s.” 
You have the nerve to blink up at him like a fawn. “It’s not my fault you hardly tell me no.” 
You make it easy to say yes a million times over. Again and again. 
There’s nothing for him to quip back with, so he sighs and studies you for the umpteenth time that night. There’s something amused about the glimmer in his eyes, but a fondness there as well. You’re wearing soft pants and a baggy sweater, looking effortlessly beautiful in a way that only you can manage. 
Guilt wastes no time prickling beneath his skin when you curl in on yourself a bit, self-conscious. You’ve never grown used to the way he makes you feel so seen. Part of you fears he can see right through to feelings you’ve been fighting to keep tucked away. 
He clears his throat and runs a hand through his eternally disheveled hair. 
“Maybe I should get better about that then,” he decides. “Start telling you no more often.” A lighthearted smile pulls at his lips. 
You look over at his alarm clock so you don’t drown within the increasing warmth of his umber eyes. You’re not ready to fall even though that’s what it feels like you’ve been doing for so long. 
He bites his lip in preparation for the weight of his next words, “I’ve been meaning to tell—“ 
“My folks are expecting me back by ten.” It’s the first thing you can think to say despite the fact that they hardly ever give you curfews. “I forgot to mention it sooner.”
“Oh.” He glances to his nightstand to scrutinize the red numbers glowing on the clock. Disappointment swells within him and makes him fidget. “How the hell is it almost ten already? Thing’s gotta be broken.” 
He pats the top of the device as if the right time was suddenly going to appear. “You can’t say for ten more minutes?” You shake your head apologetically. “How ‘bout five?” Another head shake. “Fuck—a minute thirty?” 
A laugh bubbles up your throat, making a helplessly gooey feeling melt down the walls of his chest. 
All too soon, with no success in convincing you, he’s walking you out to your car. 
The night’s chill nips at both of you without reprieve. You hug your arms and break into a jog to escape it faster, leaving Eddie slowly striding behind you in hopes of prolonging his last few moments with you. 
He watches you hop inside your family’s old station wagon and give the engine stuttering life. The headlights are soon to follow, illuminating a cluster of jittery moths. 
The feeling of his stare boring into the side of your face through the window makes you give into the urge to crank it down, handle squeaking faintly along with your movements. 
“Stop looking at me like that.” 
“Like what?” He huffs out a chuckle. “Where am I supposed to look? Up?” He tips his head backwards, and his demeanor immediately shifts. “Hey, the stars are out.” 
You peer through the windshield to see for yourself. Sure enough, countless of them shine like dull guardians miles and miles above lonesome Hawkins. They seem to span forever in every direction. The child in you looks for any surges of brightness or streaks that would indicate a shooting star. 
“The view’s better out here.” There’s a persuasive lilt to his voice. 
You don’t dare get out of the car. If you do, you wouldn’t make it home at all. It was getting too easy to be in his presence, like he was the bread and you were the butter that helplessly melted on top because you knew it’s where you belonged. 
“I really gotta go, E.” You swallow the sadness that wants to color your words as you buckle your seatbelt and settle back into the seat. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 
He kicks at a cigarette butt on the ground, and nods. You were always within arms reach, yet lightyears away. 
“Tomorrow,” he repeats. “Copy that.” 
A silence settles between you. The only sounds that prevail are the hum of your car engine, crickets, and muffled peels of laughter carrying from a few trailers down. 
Every time, it was you who pulled away at the eleventh hour before the dawn of something new. 
“Good night, Eddie.” 
•••
The cash register snaps closed with a resonant clamber. A beat later, you’re reaching out to take your change from the middle-aged lady thoughtfully chewing a piece of pink bubblegum behind the counter. The two of you are the only souls in the store. Humming freezers and a quiet instrumental soundtrack fill the air. 
She speaks up as you turn to leave, “You alright there, sweetheart?” 
“Just tired.” You sheepishly raise the bag carrying the Melatonin you’d purchased. 
Even God knew you weren’t going to be able to fall asleep on your own tonight. You’d lie awake thinking of all the reasons why you should’ve stayed. 
You take the time to read her name tag then: Irene. 
Her frown is sympathetic. “It’s a boy, isn’t it?” Warmth rushes to your cheeks. She then leans onto the counter and you feel compelled to take a step closer. “What’s his deal?” She studies your face for any hints before asking a different question, 
“What’s your deal?”  
You shrug lamely, and Irene tilts her head. You don’t owe her an answer, but you can’t help but feel as though you need to hear it for yourself. 
“I’m scared.” 
“It’s okay to be scared.” She blows a bubble and it pops neatly without sticking to her lips. “But it’s up to you to decide if you wanna be scared forever.”
•••
Eddie’s staring up at the ceiling when a faint series of knocks sound at the front door. Instead of moving, he blows out another cloud of smoke and watches as it dissipates into a thin haze in the air. The breeze entering through the cracked window helps filter it out. It isn’t until the knocks get louder that he’s convinced his mind isn’t playing tricks on him. 
What he’s not expecting is for you to be standing at the door. 
“Hi,” you say softly. 
He doesn’t dare question his luck. “H-Hey.” Eddie lowers the joint from between his lips and turns away from you to quickly exhale. “Tonight, uh, doesn’t count.” 
He was supposed to be taking a break from smoking, and you’d promised to help keep him on track. But now, as he stood doing just that for the first time in two months, it wasn’t the joint that captured your attention. It was the reason why, the conflicted look in his eyes that the pungent haze failed to mask. 
His next words get cut off with a cough, and he doesn’t bother trying to say them again. 
You're met by warmth when he motions you inside. Guilt tries to convince you that you don’t deserve another chance, fear says you’re going to blow it. 
“Eddie?” He raises his eyebrows. “I’m really sorry.” 
The way he nods suggests he knew your curfew was fabricated from the start. “Don’t sweat it,” he lifts his shoulder. “I’m gonna go put this out.” He holds up the joint. 
You trail him back to his bedroom, where your eyes roam idly over the posters covering the walls. Different things to say rise to the tip of your tongue, but none of them spill over. 
Eddie turns towards you when he’s done. 
“You didn’t have to lie.” Your shoulders sink as you meet his gaze, but he easily turns to humor, “You could’ve just told me you were tired of being cramped up in a trailer. I probably would’ve agreed.” 
You can feel the ghost of a smile on your face, but you still mean your next words, “I feel like the worst person in the world.” 
His nose wrinkles. “Maybe the fourth or fifth, but definitely not the worst.” 
In spite of everything, both of you find it within yourselves to laugh. It feels good, mending. 
You regain your composure before Eddie, and upon noticing he tries even harder to quell his amusement. It takes a few extra seconds because he’s high, but he finally manages to get himself under control. 
He thinks before his next words, “I wasn’t expecting you to come back. You never do.” A lump forms in your throat as you toy with the hem of your sweater. “And all I can think about every time you leave is how I let you walk away without telling you how fucking much I enjoy you being around.”
You swallow. “I know you do.” 
He shakes his head. “I like hanging out with the guys too—I’ll hang out with anybody if they’re cool.” You watch him with doe eyes as he speaks. “But you, you’re a whole different story. You drive me crazy in the best fucking way ever.” Those words hang thick in the air. “When I blew that eyelash of your finger, I wished—”
“Wait,” you hold out a careful hand, butterflies fluttering in your stomach. “Don’t tell me.” Part of you wants him to, but not at the expense of the wish not coming true. 
That keeps him quiet for a few seconds. He’s still charged from his confession, electricity having taken the place of blood within his veins. 
“You came back,” Eddie states instead. “Why?” 
His eyes don’t leave you, and you take in his entirety for the first time since you’ve been back. Long hair, short sleeve Metallica shirt, faded pajama pants. He doesn’t have his chest puffed out or his chin turned up in that charming way he often does when he’s working a crowd or a group of friends. 
He’s leveled. No guard up, no mask on, just Eddie. 
The one who’s been by your side since fifth grade. Who could make your sides ache on the days when laughing was the last thing you thought you could do. Who got on your nerves almost every time you were together, but still managed to be one of your favorite people in the world. 
“You know how you always say there’s no shame in running?” you ask, shifting your weight. You’d sat in on enough of his D&D campaigns to have heard that phrase uttered. 
He nods. 
“Well, we both know it’s also worth something when you have the guts to stay. So this is me choosing not to run anymore.” From your feelings or from him. 
The room shrinks and grows one hundred degrees hotter when Eddie moves to stand closer to you. He reaches out to grasp your hand, calluses brushing your skin. The chunky metal rings adorning his fingers glint. 
Your next breath stalls as he presses your palm flat against the left side of his chest. The quickened rhythm of his heart drums against it fiercely. A mix of vulnerability and courage are married in his eyes. 
“Same,” you whisper, and his lips twitch upwards. “Here I was thinking this was gonna be just another Friday night.” 
You let your hand fall from his chest. 
A grin breaks across his face like dawn, more tender than it’s ever been. “I’m glad it’s not.” 
Time slows as he cups your face, eyes flitting over every detail as if to memorize it all over again. “You’re so fucking pretty.” He whispers it like there’s nothing to question, like he's been waiting forever. 
You don’t mean to smile as wide as you do. His heart skips a beat, maybe two. He’s done holding back from what he’s been wanting to do for so long. 
Not another second passes before he presses his lips to yours. 
They move with careful earnesty. Despite the fact that it feels like your entire body bursts into stardust, you kiss him back with an innate sense of knowing. You can feel the puffs of air from his nose fanning over your skin, the way his thumbs brush over your cheeks. It’s intoxicating in a way that makes you weak in the knees. Even with the newness of it all, there’s an air of ease and familiarity that you lose yourself within. You don’t worry if you’re doing it right. 
By the time he pushes you backwards to sit on the edge of his bed, he’s taken off your sweater and tossed it onto the floor, leaving your pale pink bra newly on display. 
From your seated position, you watch him pull his own shirt over his head, further disheveling his hair. His milky skin hosts a myriad of dark tattoos and fading scars. Anticipation swirls in your core as he encourages you to lay on your back, propping himself overtop of you. He pecks the tip of your nose before slotting his lips over yours once again. 
A surprised sound escapes you when his lips begin to plant a trail of kisses along your jaw and down the side of your neck, head tilting to give him more access. The moment your conscience catches up to reality, you push at his chest and he immediately pulls away. 
“Too much?” He studies your face. You can’t bring yourself to say no because you don’t want it to end. 
“I think I just need a second. Sorry.” Embarrassment clings to your words, but you muster a shaky laugh. “I’m not used to this kinda thing.” 
Eddie had experienced his share of sporadic flings, but his feelings never ran as deep as they do for you.  
“You’re okay,” he soothes. “I may like pushing your buttons, but ‘m not gonna do anything you don’t want me to, alright?” 
In all your years of knowing him, he’d never given you reason to believe he’d ever discount your feelings. Or that he was even capable of doing so. 
You raise a hand to cup his cheek. “Let’s keep going.” 
“You sure?” He turns his head to kiss your palm. “Absolutely positive?” He dips down and playfully nips at your collarbone. “Cross your heart?”  
You bite your lip to keep from giggling, but fail when he begins to move lower. He drinks in your laughter like it’s an elixir. 
He continues a disorderly line of kisses down your stomach, and your mind is beyond hazy by the time he reaches the waistband of your jeans. You don’t utter any words of protest when he kneels to pop the button open. The subsequent sound of your zipper being pulled down might as well be thunder with how quiet the room has grown aside from it. 
Your panties are the same pink as your bra, trimmed with thin lace that makes Eddie dizzy. Without waiting for him to ask, you lift your hips for him to pull down your pants. Once they’re on the floor, he runs his hands over both of your thighs, trying his best to memorize the feeling. You briefly close your eyes when his fingers ghost over the soft fabric of your underwear. Nerves bundle low in your stomach to the point where you feel like a live wire laying exposed before him. 
“You’re gonna be the end of me,” he says like a scripture. 
“Me?” you peer down at him in disbelief. 
“Yeah, you. Who else?” He lifts the thin waistband of your panties and lets it snap back down to your skin. “I’m gonna take ‘em off.” He only makes the announcement to give you a chance to refute it. 
Rather than doing so, you brace your feet so you can lift your hips for him once more. 
You’ve known him for the better half of your life. If anyone, your trust can reside in him. 
A string of awed expletives slip past his lips when there’s nothing left between him and your heat. To stop himself from staring, he turns his face into your thigh to suck a bruise into the plush skin. You don’t realize that’s what he’s doing until you feel the tiny pinch that stings so good. 
Your silence is perceived as permission to switch to the other leg to do the same. You can hear your heart in your ears, and regard it as a reminder that you’re alive and breathing during a moment you never thought would come. 
You’re marked now, his.
He runs a gentle finger from your clit to your wet folds, and your own sensitivity surprises you when your thighs snap closed and trap his hand. 
“Sorry,” you breathe, slowly blooming them open again. You make the mistake of meeting his gaze, where fondness seems to radiate like imperceivable rays of light. 
After pressing a kiss to the space just beneath your navel, he stands and climbs onto the bed with you. You sit up and look to him for further direction. 
An easy smile spreads across his face as he settles with his back against the wall where a headboard should be. 
“C’mere,” he stretches his legs out in front of himself. 
You crawl to him and sit so that your back is pressed against the warmth of his bare chest. It isn’t until you shift that you feel his erection pressing into your rear. 
You peek back at him with hot cheeks. “Sorry.”  
Eddie drops a kiss to your shoulder. “You’ve apologized five hundred times tonight.” You shrink in on yourself because you know it’s true. “You’re not allowed to anymore, capeesh?” 
You nod. 
“Now prop your legs up, buttercup.” You can hear the smile in his voice that hopes you caught his rhyme. 
You press your feet into his sheets and spread your knees into a V. 
His pointer finger finds your clit without warning, applying just enough pressure to hitch your breath. You’ve touched yourself before, but had never taken the time to truly gain an understanding of the deeper pleasure there was to be felt. 
Here Eddie was, showing you what you didn’t know about yourself.
He switches to rubbing your bundle of nerves with his thumb while his middle finger glides through the slickness of your folds, making you clench with want. You reach between your legs with the hope of helping, or perhaps egging things along, but Eddie tuts. 
“Hands off or I’ll stop.” His tone is gentle and commanding all at once. 
Even though you follow his instructions, he still withdraws his touch. A protest ends up dying in your throat when you feel his fingers undoing the clasp of your bra and pushing the straps down your goosebump-laden arms. It soon joins the rest of your clothes on the floor. You’ve never been so bare in front of another person. 
“Jesus, look at you,” he murmurs. His large hands raise to cup your breasts, fingers experimentally pinching both of your pebbled nipples. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen a more beautiful sight. 
You watch with hooded eyes and parted lips. Caught off guard when he grabs your hands and redirects them to your chest to take over for him. You tentatively pinch your nipples in the same way he’d done, sending minute shockwaves through your body. 
“There you go,” he coos into your ear. A gasp falls past your lips when his hand dips back between your legs to ease the tip of his middle finger into your entrance. As he pushes it in further, your toes curl tighter. 
But his touch disappears yet again, making an exasperated breath leave you as your head falls backwards onto his shoulder. 
“Eddie,” it’s a whine. “Are you teasing me?”
“No. I forgot to take my rings off.” They clink as he drops them onto the nightstand. “But I think I will now since you just had to say something.” The charged promise of those words sends a chill down your spine.
You’re begging three minutes later. A melodic mix of weakened pleads, his name, and incoherent bargains that only make him smile. 
He’s trapped you on the edge of a freefall. Your thighs ache from tensing, and the strong pulse of arousal between your legs consumes the entirety of your mind. His two middlemost fingers pump in and out of your entrance with no sense of urgency, curling into that spot within you that makes you want to shatter. Whenever he senses that you’re about to topple over the edge, he pauses to let a few seconds crawl by. 
It’s scary how good he is at reading you. At holding the reins. 
“I can’t anymore,” you breathlessly insist, pressing back into him. “Eddie, please.”
“Sure you can.” He suckles the spot beneath your ear. In your head, you scream at him in frustration but in reality you squeeze your eyes shut. 
He doesn’t know who he’s teasing anymore. Listening to you whimper and feeling you squirm has him twitching and straining in his boxers. 
Somewhere along the line, he remembers mercy. 
As soon as the cord within you snaps, your back arches and your walls flutter helplessly around his fingers. Your orgasm crashes over you in strong heated waves, each one fizzling out in their own time, making you tremble. 
When your breaths grow even again, he slowly pulls his fingers out of you as you watch, awed and silent. You place a hand on his thigh to ensure he stays close. 
“I’m not going anywhere,” he promises. 
The two of you sit in silence for a while, basking in the warmth of each other’s body, the new air between you. It’s as if you’re waiting to be roused from a dream. 
“I wanna keep making you feel good,” he eventually murmurs into your ear, smirking when you shiver. “Will you let me do that?” 
The feeling of his erection pressing into your backside suddenly registers in your mind again, and you reach behind you to curiously palm the outline through his pajama pants. He feels it in his bones. 
“You can do whatever you want,” you tell him.
Eddie grabs your waist and gently pushes you forward so you know to let him get up. You settle in the middle of the bed and pull your legs up to your chest in a halfhearted reclaim of modesty. 
He stalks over to his dresser and scans the cluttered surface with his lower lip pulled between his teeth. You trace his back tattoos with your eyes. After pushing a few stray trinkets aside, he makes a sound of frustration.  
“What's wrong?” you ask. 
He continues looking. “Coulda sworn there was a condom lying around up here.” 
After a beat, you crawl to the edge of his bed so you can peek into the drawer of his nightstand. There’s notebooks filled with song lyrics, old magazines, a Walkman, batteries, guitar picks. No square foils in sight. 
“Can’t we still…” your words fade when he meets your gaze, but he gives you an encouraging nod. “You know. If we’re extra careful, right?” Your voice is just above a murmur by the time you stop speaking. 
The innocence seeping from your gaze makes a helpless fool out of him. 
The next thing you know, he’s pulling his pants and boxers down in one go, cock springing up towards his belly as you watch with owlish eyes. A dark tuft of hair curls at the base, and the head is a pretty shade of rose that’s beading pearlescent pre-cum. A prominent vein snakes along the underside. 
You’re more than ready. It’s the lightning in a bottle type sureness that you can’t believe you’ve come to know so well. The second he starts moving towards the bed again, you reposition onto your back. 
Though you don’t utter a single word, every unspoken thought from your mind seems to shape his smile. It’s not entirely proud, there’s a hint of softness to it. Something giddy residing just beneath the surface that takes the edge off the intensity of his gaze. 
A comforting heat radiates from his body as he positions himself overtop of you. 
He reaches between your legs to collect the tell tale sign of your arousal on his fingers, and your eyelashes flutter. “Nice and ready for me, huh?” 
The tone of his voice makes you want to hide. You feel small and on top of the world at the same time. Eagerness is written all over your face. And in the way your chest rises with quicker breaths. How your fingers are curled into the sheets. 
“I’ll take that as a yes.” You’re glad he does because you’re certain all words would fail if you tried to speak. 
All you can do is blink up at him, propping your legs on either side of him as he lines himself up at your entrance. 
It’s overwhelming at first, incomparable to his fingers. But he takes it slow, watching your face the whole while. Before you know it, you’ve stretched to take the entirety of his length, and his eyes are glued to where you’re joined. 
He bottoms out with a satisfied grunt, hair falling into his face. The fullness makes up for the dull ache. Especially as he begins to slowly pull out in preparation for another pump. A gasp escapes you the second time he eases back in, and your face scrunches with the new depth that comes with hooking your legs around the back of his thighs. 
“If you wanna stop at any point just tell me, okay?” He tries his best to keep his voice steady. 
“Okay,” you whisper shakily. 
He finds a rhythm before long, cheeks flushed right along with his chest. He looks beautiful like this. Even his pleasured sighs and huffs rush straight to the pit of your stomach. 
“Lemme hear you,” his voice comes out gruff. “Stop holding back.” 
You swallow a moan. “‘M not.” 
Unconvinced, Eddie rolls one of your nipples between his fingers, and your breath stutters on its way out. You don’t remember being this sensitive earlier, and a few more pinches have your mouth gaping open just as he expected. 
His thrusts grow pointedly harder, forcing the fire building in your core to burn brighter. 
“Oh, god—Eddie,” you finally choke out, gripping onto his biceps. 
He swears he grows impossibly harder, orgasm creeping even closer from its place in the distance. You’re so soft, so warm, so wet, squeezing him in a maddening way. Your blunt fingernails move to dig into the back of his shoulders, leaving crescent indents in their wake.
“Say my name again.”
“Eddie,” you sigh, helplessly clenching around him. “Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.” You sound dreamy. It rushes straight between his legs, and he can feel that familiar coil beginning to wear thin. 
Hearing you say his name like that was going to do him in. 
A sudden burst of confidence finds you. “You’re so deep—gonna make me come.” 
His hips falter and something shifts in his eyes. He starts drawing circles over your clit.
“I wanna feel you fall apart around me,” he says, and you nod because you want that for him. “But not until I say, alright?” 
Your stomach drops. 
When you don’t answer, he slows to a torturous pace that makes your head spin. “Gotta answer me so I know we’re on the same page.” 
“We always have been,” you half slur, drunk on him. 
As Eddie looks down at you, he sees a large fraction of his world woven into the delicate furrow of your eyebrows, the way your eyelashes meet the very tops of your cheeks, the part of your cherry-tainted lips. 
He lowers himself so that his chest is grazing yours as he continues thrusting, pubic bone dragging over your clit. The feeling of his warm breaths fanning into your ear makes you shudder, and when you arch up, you’re only met by more of his warmth, more of him. There is no escape, nowhere to run. Only accept. 
“Wish I could, shit, wish I could bottle this feeling in a fucking jar and keep it forever,” he grits into your ear. “Never felt anything this good… five stars from me.” He’s fighting to hold himself together. 
You miss half of those words because you’re on the verge of an ascension. 
“Eddie,” you breathe, somewhat startled. “Eddie, please. Can I come? I’m so close.” 
“How close?” 
Your voice goes airy and high because he’s hitting just the right spot. “‘M right there.” 
“Tell me how good I’m making you feel.” Whining, you claw into his skin with the intent of making it sting, but it only makes his shoulders shake with a chuckle. “I’ll shut this whole show down if you wanna play that game—” 
“So good!” you whimper, giving in. “You’re making me feel so good. Just… please.” You clench around him in hopes of earning an okay.  
It almost makes him fold, come right on the spot, but he still forces out a, “Not yet, angel. I gotta practice telling you no, remember?” 
His constant denial was only adding fuel to the fire of pleasure burning within you and he knew it.
By his next thrust, he could tell the beginnings of an unraveling had begun sweeping you under. Even though he sees it coming from a mile away, he nearly passes out himself when you let go.
Eyes closed, your walls flutter around him in a strong, rapid succession that carries on for a while. You’re being lifted somewhere higher than you’ve ever known. The world fades around the edges, and the distant sound of Eddie’s voice washes over you as your jaw slacks open.  
There you go, that’s it. Couldn’t hold back any longer, huh?
Only when aftershocks begin to spark through you do you realize how deep your breaths have grown, and the new laxity of your limbs that makes you feel like you’ve become one with his bed, trembling weakly. A wonderful ache resides between your legs. 
A gentle weight soon meets your lower stomach, and your eyes flutter open just enough to see. Eddie has pulled himself from within the warmth of you, and rested his slickened tip against your warm skin. You watch dazedly as he strokes himself a few good times before jolting and releasing onto your belly. 
All you get is a glimpse of his blissed expression before he leans down to tuck his face into your neck. You lift a hand to his head and gently scratch at his scalp as you feel him begin to place soft kisses to your throat. You can still feel his cock against your belly, and you work your other hand between your bodies to wrap your delicate fingers around him. 
His whole body shudders, and when you lightly circle your thumb around the tip your name breathlessly falls past his lips. 
He grunts and makes you stop when you start to do the same lazy motion again, and you chuckle weakly. 
“Oh, is that funny?” he asks, wrestling a smile. When you bite your lip and nod sweetly, he pushes himself up so he’s propped higher above you. “You wanna know what else is funny? I don’t think I ever gave you the green light to come.” 
You blink up at him innocently. “I couldn’t help it.” 
He begins tracing the underside of one of your breasts and you suck in a breath, gripping onto his wrist. He pulls from your hold, and that same hand trails down your body, over your ribs and down your sides. His fingers leave a tingly buzz in their wake. You try not to squirm too much because his spend is still on your stomach. 
“I’m trying to decide if I should do something about it or be nice,” he says, ghosting a finger over your oversensitive clit. 
When you whimper, his fingertips move to revisit one of the marks he left on the inside of your thighs, and the ticklish sensation makes your muscles tense as you huff out a tired laugh. He playfully quirks his brows at that reaction, but you can see the warmth in his eyes. 
You smile when he leans down to give your lips a sweet peck. “I’ll be nice,'' he promises. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” 
•••
When midnight comes, sleep has found neither of you. You’re both fighting it, trying to stay awake so you can continue sharing hushed stories, soft caresses, and smiles that warm you right along with the sheets covering your bodies. 
Your eyes are the first to begin fluttering, and Eddie stops talking when he notices. 
“No, keep going,” you murmur. “I’m listening.” 
“We can talk more in the morning,” he says. You shake your head no, and he chuckles. “Yes. Go to sleep.”
Before you have the chance to say anything else, he reaches out to turn the bedside lamp off. You press yourself closer to his body after he settles back beside you. 
Neither of you say anything for a while, so you begin to assume he’s dozed off. When he speaks up again, his words are soft and honest, “This is what I wished for. A moment just like this.” 
You mean to tell him that you think you’re in love.
-
Thank you so much for reading! Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated.
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rosewaterandivy · 4 months
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18+ MDNI
who among us hasn’t found themselves in the ol’ needs to be dicked down to sleep quandary?that’s right no one! anyway, despite peacing out earlier in the evening, it’s now going on 2 am and you’ve been tossing and turning all the while.
scattered goodbyes and see you soon’s echo down the hall as the party leaves after yet another successful campaign. hearing eddie lock the door and gather a few plates and cups, you decide to give up the ghost and admit defeat.
it’s time to call in the big guns: eddie laying pipe, for as long as it takes you to pass the fuck out.
he turns from his spot at the sink, hearing your soft footfalls, his lips kicking up in a soft smile. “did we wake you, baby?”
slowly shaking your head, you grab his hand and drag him to bed. his arm snakes around your waist as he noses along the back of your neck.
“mmm, what’s wrong?”
his voice is a soft thing, a faint tsk falls from his lips when you eventually drop his hand in the bedroom.
turning to him, you cross your arms and huff. “can’t sleep,” you supply, rather sulkily. and yeah, you’re verging on bratty territory but you’re tired and have a to-do list a mile long for tomorrow, or today. whatever.
eddie rolls his eyes and steps closer, his hands cupping your face, thumbs grazing the full of your cheeks. “s’that all? need me to take you out of your misery?”
your nod in response is all he needs before you find yourself back in bed, sleep shirt rucked up past your tits, shorts dangling from one leg, as eddie settles against your cunt. with one hand, he brushes along your skin, goosebumps breaking out in his wake. while his opposite arm finds home along your hips, holding you down against the soft sheets.
pulse accelerating, you catch his eye once he has you arranged to his liking. “okay baby,” he says, breath skittering along your inner thighs. “jus’ gotta lay there and take it, hmm? have you fucked out in no time.”
he promises and then has the audacity to wink, the fucker, before his pretty pink mouth descends on you. the first brush of his tongue forced the breath from your lungs, thighs tightening involuntarily.
his laugh brings a flood of warmth to your chest, even though there’s no reason to be embarrassed. his free hand smooths along the curve of your waist and stomach, light touches that ignite like fireworks against your skin.
eddie’s always been a motormouth and that definitely extends to oral as well. he’s loud— low groans that vibrate up your spine, kissing and sucking, licking and fucking his tongue just how you like it.
eventually, his hand finds your clit rubbing in slow, lazy circles— nose bumping against it occasionally. wet, spit slick sounds join your low whines and mewls as you writhe against the sheets. and while that’s all well and good, it’s not the sign he’s looking for.
it’s only when your hips begin to buck that he knows it’s time to double down. increasing the pressure on your clit, he sucks harshly and sinks two fingers into your sopping cunt. curling them up in a thrust eliciting a sharp gasp from you.
“how many’ll it be this time?” he slurs out, the low timbre of his voice sending you into shudders. he slows to a lazy thrust, your bucking hips compensating for the reprieve.
“hhhnng,” is all you supply in response before he’s clambering up your torso.
you can hear the squelch of his fingers and your arousal. his palm pressing down against your clit with delicious pressure as he leans over you.
“was somethin’ like two or three last time.”
god. it’d be a miracle if you could simply fucking come, much less wager how many orgasms eddie could wring from you.
and you must make some sound of discontent to elicit his soft, “aw, doin’ so good for me baby,” before slotting his lips against yours.
your mouth falls open at the musky taste of arousal on his tongue. a low moan echoing in the warmly lit room. the kiss growing sloppy along with the noises from you clenching against his fingers.
though the pressure of your orgasm builds delightfully from his ministrations, it’s just not enough to push you over the edge. hearing your whine, eddie pulls back, your lips parting with a wet click.
“c’mon honey,” he soothes, damp fingers slipping from you to maneuver you onto your stomach. face down, ass up, he rucks down his sweats and spits into his palm before giving himself a few strokes.
the bratty part of you is pissed because you can’t see what he’s doing, but you can hear it— your walls clenching against nothing. face settling against the pillows, you turn your head to the side, cheek brushing the cool fabric.
he spies you from the corner of his eye, a soft smile overtaking his face. you’re getting impatient and tired, he can tell. a telltale sign that everything is going according to plan. you’ll be out like a light in no time, he’s sure of it.
his head falls back as he thrusts in, pausing briefly for you to adjust before he bottoms out. the air leaves your lungs accompanied by a breathy moan as eddie pulls out, running his dick along the seam of your cunt.
“eddie,” you pant, thrusting your hips back impatiently.
taking pity, he slowly works his way back in with a sigh. “be good baby,” he warns, hand curving around your hip to pull you flush against him.
exhausted, you allow yourself to be rocked back and forth against him, his hands anchored at your hips and dick seated from root to tip.
and that’s the ticket— being so full of him that you’re fit to burst. couldn’t escape even if you wanted to. his hips piston against the fat of your ass and thighs, the sound of skin on skin filling the air, occasionally accompanied by the mewls that would tumble from your mouth or low pitched groans and curses that would fall from his.
eventually, eddie would grow just as impatient as you and pull you up— back bowed in an impressive curve as he buried a hand in your hair, turning your head just so to capture your open, panting mouth. a hand falling from your hip to circle your neglected clit, applying the right amount of pressure to send you reeling.
with his sweat slick skin against yours, arousal coating your thighs, walls hugging his cock, you’d break open. the pleasure swooping low in your stomach and careening clear over the precipice of desire. it wrests a strangled moan from eddie as you clench down against him, his slick fingers working over your clit, as you come apart beneath him.
he follows not long after, a hand pressing your closer to his chest as his fingers cradle your throat, neck turned impossibly to latch your lips to his in a blistering kiss as he comes. a few more thrusts, more form momentum than anything, and eddie is easing himself out and laying you down on the bed.
the sheets are damp but neither of you can be fucked to care, not when you’ve finally gotten what you were after, the promise of sweet oblivion brought about by some good dick. your face hits the pillow and before he can kiss you goodnight, you are down for the count.
TLDR: eddie’s dick so good we should be calling him NyQuil.
pushin’ daffodils (steve’s version)
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spideyhexx · 4 months
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mdni
Billy took his poker games seriously.
He’d crack a few smiles at his boys here and there as they jest, but regardless of their friendships, the games were still taken with an air of seriousness.
You knew this, of course. You’d watch off to the side, paying attention to Billy and only him. The way his lips would quirk up ever so slightly when a play is made and you're sure you're the only one to notice it.
His hands are holding the cards in a gentle manner. He's sat back, on the verge of slouching. Broad shoulders, which tend to tense up a lot are rather calm.
You can't see his legs, but you know they're spread, that's just how he sits. And you start to pay less attention to the game, not that you were following it closely in the first place, too distracted by Billy's expression less face and his slow, but calculated movements.
The position he's in reminds you of one you're all too familiar with. You can't count how many times he's sat just like that but with you in is lap, kissing him until your lips hurt, your heat rubbing up against the bulge in his pants.
You've not had the chance to really touch each other yet. Time alone with Billy was sometimes hard to come by, so the ache inside of you felt like a ticking time bomb.
Your leg crosses over the other, looking for some sort of pressure as your thoughts continue to consume you. Your mind wanders to the last time you two had alone time, where you were so close to undressing and seeing him in his glory, but Jesse yelled for him and Billy was profusely apologizing while you two calmed down.
His hand had been so close, just mere centimeters from playing with your most sensitive parts, but he left you to deal with whatever business Jesse needed help with. And as you remember this, you feel your blood start to boil.
Even though his intentions were good, it still felt like the worst tease imaginable and it keeps replaying over and over in your head as you watch Billy wipe at the corner of his lips with his thumb before fingering a card.
His eyes shoot over to you and he sees your expression. He'd be confused. He's just as desperate for you as you are for him, but he figured you were patient enough to wait for the right moment where he can get you guys alone for a longer time.
Then, it feels like your legs are working without you even telling them to. You stand and walk over behind Billy. He tilts his head up to see you and lean down to kiss his cheek.
The men at the table snicker and Billy shoots a look at them, one of shyness or anger, you can't tell.
As soon as one of Billy's hands leaves the cards, you take the open space as an advantage to plop yourself into his lap.
"You better not be feedin' him anythin',' Jesse hollers from his side of the table and you put your hand over your heart.
"I swear, 'm not. I was just cold over there. Besides, Billy doesn't need my help playin' cards," the men laugh and you adjust in Billy's lap.
His breath hits your neck, but he doesn't seem too phased.
You play coy for a bit, keeping your hands to yourself and tucking your head against his neck. If you weren't aching for him, you'd probably even fall asleep right there against him.
But that's not what you're there for. When the game picks up, you take an opportunity to shift in Billy's lap, pushing your backside right up against his crotch.
You feel him swallow, but no other reaction comes about. You assume he just thought you were getting comfortable again. So you wait a few more minutes and do the same thing again, this time putting more pressure into it in the most subtle way you can.
He clears his throat, moving one of his hands to wrap around your front.
You think it's an effort to keep you still. So you push back again and his grip tightens. Your hands find the one splayed across your middle, playing with his fingers, trying to lull him to let you keep playing with him.
Billy's eyes focus anywhere but on you and you try your hardest not to smirk when you feel his erection pressing against you. It makes you feel powerful. You only rubbed against him a few times and he's already this hard? You feel your heat flutter at the thought of getting to see him and you grind back against him without thinking.
You can't see his face, but you assume he makes some sort of face, cause Jesse's saying, "You good there, Billy? Havin' doubts about winnin'?" Jesse is none the wiser to the fact that Billy actually has a winning hand, but he's too distracted by you.
"'M good," is all he gets out and you can hear the strain his voice, so of course you grind against him again, his hand moving to your hip instead.
You feel his lips brush against your ear as he whispers, "don't play with me darlin'." It feels so soft, and his shaky breaths hit your skin as you contemplate what to do.
But you give his hand a reassuring squeeze and stay still despite the burning desire in you.
When he wins the game, a smile gracing his lips and a kiss is giving to your head, you shift in his lap to turn and kiss him, pressing your hip against his bulge and Billy quickly pulls away from the kiss before he moans into it, biting down on his cheek hard and awkwardly fixing his hat.
Soon, the men have all left the table, going to other parts of the camp they've set up and you give Billy the softest smile you can muster.
"I had to," you tell him, taking his hat off and brushing some of the curls that lay on his forehead, sweat perspiring there.
"Did you now?" He's amused, turning you into his lap more so you're straddling him, his arousal still present and pressing up against you.
You nod, kissing his nose, "I need you." He squirms beneath you, leaning closer to press his forehead to yours, his eyes sending shivers down your spine.
"take me."
let's chat about billy, here :)
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prettygiri222 · 8 months
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Stress Relief
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summary: Armin gives the best head
Armin x Black Reader SMUT
you were beyond frustrated at this point, work pissed you off today. it was originally your day off and you were gonna spend it with your boyfriend Armin, but your boss called you in last minute because someone couldn’t make their shift. then they spent the whole day up your ass complaining about the littlest things and even getting you for being late? you almost put your two weeks in when your coworker spilt your much-needed iced coffee, she didn’t even offer to buy you a new one! you got home with tears in your eyes when your lovely boyfriend offered to help you relieve some stress.
“Arminnn” you whined out. you were at the point of tears. you and Armin have been at it for almost an hour and you haven’t had the mind-blowing orgasm you craved. you were bouncy so desperately on Armin’s dick, like a rabbit in heat. 
you should’ve been embarrassed at the state you were in: your edges were long sweated off after a long day at work, your makeup was running from your sweat and tears, your blowout was starting to frizz up, you didn’t even have time fully take off your clothes so your jeans were caught on one leg, your panty was pulled to the size and your tits were suffering from the constraints of your bra.
“c-calm down babe” Armin placed his hands on your hips to slow you down. Armin was struggling underneath you, what was once pleasure was becoming torture. unlike you, Armin had already came 2 times and was nearing his third. he was overstimulated and he was trying to hold out to help you but he was nearing his limits.
your eyes were squeezed trying to focus on building the growing feel inside your stomach missing out on the pornographic image in front of you. Armin was flushed a deep shade of pink, his lips a deep shade of red as he bit down on them trying to slow the growing feeling of his climax. his pants were around his ankles and his shirt was pulled up past his chest in your haste to get him inside you as soon as possible. 
“fuck Armin, right there!” you moaned out as you finally got him to reach the deepest part you so desperately craved. the sight of you so bouncy so desperately on his cock brought Armin to his climax faster than he wanted.
“wait babe, p-please… i can’t, i can’t” Armin whined out as you grinded into him. you finally opened your eyes to see the mess underneath you. Armin hips were jerking into you deeply despite his pleas and you knew he was close, his voice always rose an octave higher during his orgasms.
“not yet,” you were so close you could almost taste it. Armin however, couldn’t take it anymore. he was growing weak underneath you, becoming a mess of babbles and whines.
“c-cumming!” Armin went cross-eyed at how intense his orgasm took over his body, spasming on the couch. beads of sweat rolled down his forehead as he looked up at the ceiling. you however, were still going at it, chasing your climax. you looked so beautiful above him but it was starting to hurt. Armin could barely feel his dick anymore.
“I’m close ‘rin, s-so close, fuck-” you orgasmed was denied when a strong grip picked you off of your boyfriend's flushed cock. “Armin!” you cried out frustrated. that was the closest you got to an orgasm during the whole day and your boyfriend just denied you.
“you’re so fuck-” “relax, I’ll take care of you angel,” Armin said as he put a finger to your lips stopping your rant. Armin sat you back on the couch and took his place on the floor in front of you. after taking off his own shirt he finally took off your jeans and underwear before taking off your top and releasing your tits.
he took you in a slow deep kiss while he played with your nipples, twisting and pulling at them. “Armin,” you moaned out.
“i know, i know, i’ll make it better. i promise,” Armin said as he kissed down your neck leaving hickeys in his path. he slowly made his way down to your clit drawing out whines that were like music to his ears. you were already squirming underneath him and he barely did anything. “my poor baby needs this badly?” he mockingly questioned, already knowing the answer.
you could only nod afraid your voice would give out. you held on to Armin’s hair for dear life, “oh god! please don’t stop Armin, please!”
“mhm,” Armin groaned from in between your legs. one of his hands was used to hold up your leg and the other was playing with your tits. “yough tath ahmahzin” Armin didn’t bother to remove his mouth from your clit to speak. his lips latched onto your clit licking and sucking on it before he started to get messy.
you would think Armin received the most pleasure when he ate you ate the way he was moaning into you. he was spitting and slobbering into your soaking wet heat. he removed his hands from your tit and inserted them into your cunt when you lost it.
“min! f-fuck minnie, ‘m close” you could barely form a sentence Armin was fingering the sense out of you. you held his head in between your legs as you started to grind into him hard. you whined when you felt the growing feeling begin to disappear as you tensed up.
“relax.” Armin gave your thigh a quick slap before holding it up. the sight beneath you would’ve been enough to make you cum any other day. Armin looked up at you with glazed-over eyes, his bangs were stuck to his forehead and his fingers going in and out of you as he ate you out with haste.
“give it to my baby,” Armin’s other hand rubbed your thigh trying to coax your orgasm out of you. you started to squeeze around his fingers, biting your lips to stop yourself from bucking into his mouth. Armin knew you were close so he kept up his ministrations.
“min, ‘min, ‘min!” you chanted out in a trance. your vision turned white as your climax finally hit. no noise left your mouth as it was stuck in an O shape. your body was trembling now and the only thing you could feel was Armin's wet tongue going in and out of you. 
“min?” you moaned out as you came back to your senses. you tried closing your legs but his hands had a firm grip on them to stop them from closing. he kept nipping at your overstimulated clit holding you in place as you tried pulling away.
“my pretty girl, i think you can give me a couple more.”
Safe to say you totally forgot about your day at work🤭
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