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the-goddess-of-mischief-writing · 5 months

Text

London calling

Summary; Price is invited to a military event, you're his plus one. A night of socialising and teasing leads to a hot night back at the hotel.

Pairing: Cpt. John Price x reader (sunshine!universe)

Rating: Explicit

CHAPTER NO/ONESHOT: Onehsot

Word; 12.5k

Warnings; alcohol consumption (drink in moderation), SMUT (18+ mdni), oral (m-receving), dirty talk, p-in-v, d/s themes, unprotected sex, captain!kink

Author; @the-goddess-of-mischief-writing

A/N: Where's the nearest wall I can bang my head against? I need this man so bad and that's why you get 12k upon my return💀😭

SUNSHINE UNIVERSE MASTERLIST

If not for the Christmas lights dangling almost in line with your window, the quickly diminishing daylight soon would've shone with its absence within the room. Dusk was approaching, if not already present, but not with its rosy summer glory, but a gloomy and yellowy-grey sky of early winter.

Things were still a scale of grey and dark rather than white. Even though some stray white flakes had fallen when you arrived yesterday, they'd melted even before hitting the pavement. And, if it had been cold enough, pedestrians still would've trambled it into mush, and cars would've melted it with their heat.

You put on the small pendant earrings you'd brought as you glanced out the window and down at the people mulling about on the streets.

Most had shopping bags in their hands, everyone seemingly in a hurry. You didn't need to see their faces whip left and right to find the next store they could steer towards. The ant-like stir of people was enough to know Christmas shopping was in full swing.

A heavy breath escaped you, your eyes flittering back to the mirror.

You ran your hands down the fabric wrapped around your body. The material felt cool beneath your sweaty palms as you tried to brush out any wrinkles from the dress. Impossible, seeing how you'd gotten it from the tailor this morning and barely touched it inside its casing.

You took another deep breath, one hand raising until your palm rested over the centre of your chest, fingers draped over your bared clavicles. There's a prickling sensation beneath your hand, resembling the crowd's irregular movement outside. If you concentrated enough, you could almost feel how it vibrated, causing your heart to do an uncomfortable double beat that quickly pushed the air from your lungs before you instinctively inhaled.

"Not goin' to faint on me, are you, love?" Your eyes flicker sideways, landing on John as he emerges from the hotel room's bathroom.

"Might just now", you say breathlessly for an entirely different reason than the edginess causing the prickly sensation in your body.

The man now making his way towards you is the same one you travelled to London with. And yet, there's no jacket ladened with a furry lapel warming him from the chilly temperatures, no beanie atop his head to shield him from the consistent gusts of wind. Now, he's dressed smart.

Whatever event he's invited to is military in nature. So, while John mentioned that it was a black-tie event for civilians, it was ceremonial for him, meaning you would see him in his formal military uniform. But nothing had prepared you for how regal he now looked in his dark blue suit, polished black leather crossbelt with shoes to match, and the row of medals proudly displayed on his chest. The only missing thing was the matching hat pressed close to his body beneath his arm.

"Flatterin' an old man?" Your gaze locks with his again from having roved over his body, noticing the creases in the corner of his eyes as he stops beside you.

"You deserve every ounce of flattery when looking like that". You turn to John just as he settles one of his hands on the small of your back. In return, you raise your fingers, barely brushing them against the underside of his chin as you lean up and kiss him.

"Mhm, don't look too shabby yourself", he mumbles against you as you pull away from the brief exchange.

"Thank you". You turn towards the mirror again, eyeing yourself. "I didn't know if it was too much".

"Could never be".

You'd meant it to be a quick look, but your attention stayed on your reflection, eyes flittering over your form.

There were a few beats of silence until John stepped up behind you, the hand previously on your back sliding to accommodate the new position. You follow his larger frame in the mirror, simultaneously feeling and seeing how his hands settle on your hip.

"Nervous?" Those blue eyes meet yours in the reflective surface, knowing. You release yet another sigh, head ducking momentarily as you lean into the sturdy bulk of John at your back.

"Yeah", you breathe, the admittance not the first of its kind.

When the news had been brought up that John needed to attend some military event in London, you hadn't blinked twice. However, when he mentioned the invitation inquired about a plus one upon acceptance, and he'd asked you, you'd looked at him wide-eyed.

"There's no need to worry, love". John dips his head, kissing the juncture of your neck. "You know nothing is expected from you".

Your shoulders slump, hands seeking his as he wraps his arm around your waist. The weight was a pleasant pressure around your mid-drift while his skin was warm beneath your hand.

"I know, but-". You bite your lip, shrugging timidly, eyes meeting John's in the mirror. "It's a military event".

"Nervous 'bout meetin' some colleagues of mine?"

"Not just any type of colleagues", you mumble, making John let out a gentle chuckle.

"You get along great with the lads".

"That's when we're at the pub, not a formal occasion with a lot more of the same kind of people around". You huff in protest. Though Ghost wouldn't attend the event, Johnny and Kyle thankfully would. So, while John won't be the only familiar face in the crowd, that's still only three out of everyone invited.

"I just don't feel like I fit the picture". You shrug once, gaze dropping to watch you play with John's fingers. Your fingertips trail over his knuckles, then up and down his digits. Only when John interwines your hands does your motion stop and attention return to him.

"You'll fit because you'll be there with me". John's gaze was intense as he spoke, voice a steady, deep reassurance. "The lads nor I fancy these occasions, but we need to attend nonetheless. Your presence will undoubtedly make it more pleasant for me, at least".

You smile, craning your neck so you no longer watch him through the mirror but look up at him. John dips his chin in return.

"You're good at motivational speeches".

There's a chuckle before he nudges his nose against yours, moving closer. "Gotten good at 'em through the years". Your chuckle is sealed into your mouth as he slots his lips with yours.

Your muscles relax as you lean into him, feeling the warmth of his body seep into yours and soothe you just like a warm blanket. Even when you part, you linger within each other's presence.

John was the first to pull away entirely, his eyes falling from yours as he did. You watch him take a step back, keeping one hand on your hip as he lets his gaze rove over your body.

"God, you're gorgeous", he mutters, taking a full once over before those blues lock with yours again.

You bite your lip, a smile breaking through nonetheless. "Would hope so. You helped me pick, after all".

"Anythin' to make my missus feel pretty". Your smile widens even more.

John had known you were nervous about the event, reluctant to even agree to be his plus one at first. So, he'd done everything to make you comfortable.

When you'd had half a breakdown while digging through your closet, only to find nothing appropriate to wear, John sat with you as you looked at dresses online. After seeing nothing that felt right there either, he'd booked a weekend trip to London to visit the tailor he usually entrusted when his formal attire needed a sow-up.

It had been your first trip together, strolling through the city, having dinners, playing tourist despite not really sightseeing. Though one of the days, between walking and dining, you'd visited the tailor's atelier.

For once, John only sat down on one of the plush armrests; no need to be attended to. Instead, it was your time in the spotlight, the storage manager ushering you to the racks of dresses, instructing you to pick whatever caught your eye to try on.

None of the dresses were especially embellished. Still, they weren't simple but elegant.

You'd switched between examining the dresses, showing John to get his opinion when you found any you liked, to testing them. Although he didn't complain once about you taking your time, chatting to the owner with an old familiarity, even you were tired when you found a dress that was just right.

However, the sluggishness only brought on by trying on clothes disappeared the second the owner had taken your measurements and you stood by the pay desk. A deposit was needed for the dress, and the rest would be paid on the day you picked it up. But the pre-payment had been enough to nearly make you baulk and glance at John to see if he was okay with spending so much. However, the man at your side hadn't even blinked at the number.

After you'd bid the tailor goodbye and exited the store, you did ask about it. Though not unfamiliar with John's gentlemanly fashion of paying for things, how confidently he answered left you at a loss for an answer, only able to shake your head with a smile when he offered his arm to you. 'I want to, love. It's the least I could do when draggin' you to this spectacle. Now lead me wherever you can find some jewellery matchin' the dress".

"Would you help your girl feel even prettier?" You hold up the necklace bought to fit the dress. God, he'd spoiled you rotten for this event.

"My pleasure". John threw his hat on the bed, overtaking the jewellery from you. With a slight move of his head, he signalled you to turn around.

Despite facing the mirror again, your eyes were cast down as you tipped your head slightly forward. The glittering metal links suddenly pass your vision as he raises it over your head, the necklace falling over your collarbones as he lowers it. Feeling his fingers brush against your skin, not long after, a barely audible click indicates the piece of jewellery is secured around your neck.

When you raise your head, your eyes immediately fall to the necklace, your fingers trailing over it. A smile slowly shifts your lips upwards as you follow the pretty drop down your sternum. The gentle bow of your lips remains as you turn, craning your neck as you pout your lips, insisting that John meets you in a kiss. And he's never one to turn you down.

"Thank you", you offer after the sweet peck of gratitude, to which he hums in return.

You feel how his blue gaze follows you when moving towards the desk that became your makeup table for the night. Even more so when you reach for the lipstick you'd saved to apply until now.

Crouching slightly so your face aligns with the much smaller mirror on the wooden desktop, you carefully outline your lips before colouring the rest until an even shade coats them.

"What do you think?" You say, straightening up again. As you press your lips together, you put on the lid and place the lipstick in your purse, all in the motion of turning to face the man almost transfixed with you. "Thought the red matched those". You motion with your finger to the ribbons, half-red and half-other colours, attached to his medals.

"It does". You parry the hand reaching for you with a shift to the side, knowing that tone of voice from John would only mess up your makeup.

He arches a brow at your move, but you only arch both of yours in return as you put your clutch beneath your arm.

"We'll be late", you claim. Even so, you can't deny you enjoy John's attention and the look in his eyes. He makes you feel pretty, desired. It completely overhauls your stomach's previous knots.

Deciding to tease him just the slightest, you pop your index finger much more dramatically than needed into your mouth, pursing your lips around the digit before pulling it out slowly, all whilst keeping eye contact with the man watching you. You smile at John after your finger leaves your mouth, now not afraid of red smearing your teeth thanks to the ring of colour around the middle of your finger.

"Goodness, women", he groans, hand trailing over his lower face. You can only giggle as you pluck a tissue from the box on the desk, rubbing off the lipstick as you slip around John. "Could think you want to be late".

You throw the paper into the bin beside the dresser as you pass it to the short hall leading to the door, flashing a much more satisfied smile over his reaction than previously graced your lips.

"Good things come to those who are patient. You just have to wait until after the event for me to paint something else a pretty red".

You catch another deep, grumbly sound coming from him, your previous display more than enough to conjure precisely the picture you insinuated.

As you turn forward, you chuckle again, plucking your heels from the shoe stand built into the dresser. What you hadn't anticipated was for your shoes to be plucked from your grip seconds later and to find John standing close behind you with his retrieved hat under his arm.

You send him a questioning look that he ignores as he kneels. Unable to do anything else, you shift to rest your back against the dresser and follow along when he taps his kneecap.

You raise your foot so the front pad rests against John's knee before he gingerly grabs the back of your ankle, and the pump is slipped on. He gives you time to find the balance on your now-heeled foot as he drops it before repeating the process. However, before letting you go this time, he raises your foot just slightly as he dips his head, kissing the lowest part of your shin, all the while looking up at you.

"Gonna hold you to your words, love", he declares, dropping your foot to the ground.

You swallow, going from looking down to up as he rises from the floor. "Don't mind if you do".

"Good", he kisses your cheek, heeding your desire for him not to accidentally, or very consciously, destroy your makeup. "Let us be on the way", he says, grabbing your coats from the racks.

***

The venue was beautiful: an old building with pillared walls, a second floor acting as a running balcony overlooking the ground floor and high vaulted glass roofs that stare into the dark sky above. You'd only looked down from the stunning decoration and lighting when you ascended the stairs to the main floor, lifting your dress to not catch on the fabric.

You don't know how long ago that had been, but since then, you and John haven't been given much time alone.

Each and every minute, the man who either offered his arm for you to hold or kept a hand on the small of your back introduced you to someone he knew in one way or another. Although politely greeting them with either a nod or a handshake, there were too many names and too fleeting conversations for you to remember any of them.

Only now did you get the chance to breathe. But rather than feel at ease for the momentary respite, you'd hastily moved from the midst of the crowd to the edge of the room where the table of aperitifs and drinks was, a plate filled with bite-sized food in your hands.

You would've shared them with John if he hadn't been whisked away a few moments prior. Albeit he'd been reluctant to leave your side, even when it was some affiliate from the U.S. who asked for a few minutes of his time, you'd reassured him it was fine.

You'd told yourself you could survive at least a few minutes without John and that the buffet could keep you company enough. And though you weren't as uncomfortable as you previously thought you would be, the thought of socialising with someone you'd either met already or not at all felt... awkward.

You wouldn't call it shyness. Far from it, you were curious about some of those you'd met who sported black smokings, cocktail dresses or gowns. But, out of those civilians you'd met so far, most of them were not like you.

Your sole connection to this event, to the military, was John. The other considered civilians had seemingly much closer ties, most acting as private corporate sponsors for military-tied causes through funds or services. While finding it interesting, you didn't know how much of the stuff was confidential, and you would much rather not make a scene just for some small talk. Neither did many have a plus one you could initiate a conversation with. So, the buffet became your company.

Your gaze travels over the mass of people as you plop the last canapé into your mouth. And as if the universe decided to be kind, you spot a familiar face lingering at the other edge of the room.

With all the new people John had introduced you to and recently also had to part from you to speak with, exhaustion was starting to creep up on you, along with the feeling of being lost in a crowd of still most unfamiliar people. Hence, you quickly discard your plate to instead grab two flutes of champagne before moving straight across the floor.

With people moving almost sluggishly, if at all, around the room, it was no wonder a pair of brown eyes combined with a friendly smile welcoming you met your long before you joined the very man whose attention you'd gotten.

"Kyle". The man nods in response to his name as you get close enough to greet him. The silent hello looks incredibly more formal while dressed similarly to John. "How are you?" You slow until stopping before him.

"Good as can be", his voice was light, making your brows raise upon the humour in his tone. He was the first of John's closest circle you'd seen tonight; Johnny had yet to arrive. Even so, by the looks of it, the Brit looked like he rather wouldn't be here at all.

Kyle carried himself straight-backed, faint smile in the corner of his mouth, one hand behind his back while the other rested along his side. And yet, despite the at-eased posture and expression upon his features, something told you it was entirely for show.

You chuckle, handing him the flute you'd brought. "Yeah, not really my setting either", you admit in a low voice.

Kyle cocks his head, smile widening as he shifts on his feet, accepting the drink you'd stretched forth. "What suggest I don't fancy this?".

"Don't know, but something about the all too delighted expression gave me a hint", you reply, sarcasm lacing your tone, on par with the amount that previously laden his sentence. That's the first time you see Kyle's shoulders drop somewhat as he chuckles, his posture less flawless as he looks more relaxed than previously.

You smile at his reaction, stepping forward to stand beside rather than in front of him. His brown gaze followed you as you did.

"Why ain't this your kind of setting then?". Your eyes fall on Kyle just as he shifts to look over the crowd.

"Too many of the older generation has gotten stuck and too comfortable behind their desks to remember what it's like out on the field. The rest are mostly snobs who think money and chest candy is our motivation". You bite your lip to stop the laughter rising from your throat at his quick remark. "Why isn't this your setting then? You fit in with the dress".

"Calling me a snob?" You raise a playful brow, a smile tugging the corner of your mouth.

"That you're here, talking to me, says enough", Kyle retorts, eyes falling on you.

You chuckle, but it turns into a sigh when your gaze breaks from his, fleeting over the crowd. "It just makes me nervous, I guess".

"Why?"

"Well, for the same reason as when I first met you guys". You glance at him. "Just feels like I don't fit in with all of you military people, especially now, at this event".

"Didn't do too bad of an impression on us back then. Especially not Price". You duck your head, a bashful smile bowing your lips that's still present when you look at the man at your side again.

"Perhaps not, but as you said, many here are high-ranking military personnel or snobs that are more difficult to get along with than you lot".

"Cheers to that", he chuckles, raising his glass of champagne. You mimicked his movement and raised your flute in a small tip, you both taking a sip from your drinks as they fell from their elevated position.

Your eyes glide over the crowd, and as if it's second nature, you search for John again. While having tried to spot him previously, you hadn't been successful. Although this time around, you find him.

"He's good at that". You observe John as he talks to the same man who'd whisked him away previously, though now they're also joined by a woman.

Your comment pulls Kyle's attention in the same direction as yours.

He releases a huff not soon after, the reaction making your brows arch and your head turn towards him. His brown eyes flicker down to lock with yours, a humorous glint in them.

"The old man is good at handling the higher-ups and other connections. That's why he does most of the talk for us". His eyes flicker sideways, probably towards the group you talked about, before they return to you. "Doesn't mean he despises it any less than the rest of us in most cases".

You turn to look at John, eyes narrowing as you closely watch him interact with the man and women. While he seems formal when talking to the man and more cordial with the women, he still doesn't seem relaxed. His posture is stiff, one arm bent behind his back as if wanting to pose fittingly to the occasion, his other hand clutching a champagne flute. Untouched.

Pissy excuse of fizzy water, he'd said once you asked if he wanted to share an old bottle you found in your apartment from god knows when, but acceptable enough that it wouldn't taste like the piss John labelled it as.

"That's why he brought you". Kyle's voice pulls you out of your thoughts. "He's going to use you as a scapegoat the moment it's deemed enough for him to be here". You bit your lip to quiet your snicker, shaking your head.

"He isn't", you argue, only partly believing it yourself.

"Oh, he will". Your head turned towards the new but familiar voice, finding Johnny, dressed similarly to both John and Kyle, approaching from the crowd. "Don't put it past him".

You immediately split into a grin. "Johnny, how are you?" You step forward, engulfing the man in a hug, getting anchored to the Scot's side as his arm remains over your shoulders.

"Think Gaz gave ya a brief 'nough for us", the Scotsman formally greets the young Brit with a raise of his brows and an upward nod of his head as he directs his attention towards him. Kyle only reciprocated the motion, not answering his question. "Ya gonna drink that, lass?"

You shake your head fondly, Johnny taking the flute of champagne from your hand as you give it to him.

"Drunkard", you mumble, rolling your eyes as he gulps down your drink, only to provide you with a cheeky wink when he's emptied the glass.

"Where's Price?" You're about to answer that he's socialising. But you don't get the opportunity before a voice cuts in.

"Savin' my missus from a drunk Scotsman, it seems". Your head snaps towards John's voice, a smile unfolding as you see him nearing your group while collective chuckles emerge from the men around you. "Easy on the drinks tonight, Sergeant". John's eyes switch from yours as he directs his attention to Johnny, the quirk of his lips now reaching his eyes.

"All stereotypes ain't true, Captain. Besides-". The Scot lets go of you, his arm falling as he steps to the side, giving John room to step into the semi-circle. As if you never left his side, his arm naturally falls around your waist, anchoring you to his broad frame again. "-can't get drunk on this, know it yaself", Johnny chuckles.

John hums in agreement, swirling the golden liquid in his flute with the hand hanging by his side. You tap his flank, and he looks down at you. As you motion for the glass with a nod, he gives it to you without any protest, probably delighted to get rid of the drink.

You happily sip it, your throat not feeling as tight anymore when John's with you and you're surrounded by familiar faces.

"How's the evening been then, Captain?" John shifts to look at Kyle.

"Not too shabby, lot of talkin' as always", he says. "Where the two of you been then?" His eyes shift from his fellow Brit to Johnny, who's standing with the hand not clutching the empty glass in his pocket.

"You know how London traffic is". Kyle offers with a one-shouldered shrug. "I'm not complaining about it this time around though".

"Only means you need to stay longer", John huffs, arm tightening around you. You can't help but shoot the younger Brit a look, an amused smile barely hidden beneath the rim of your glass. He cocks his head slightly, an unspoken 'what did I say' lingering between the two of you. "You two conspirin'?" Your eyes flitter back to John as he bumps his hip into yours.

"No", Kyle says as your eyes lock with the man at your side. John's eyes shine, a brow quirked in intrigue. It schooled the expression of rigidity he had previously, showing how at ease he became around his men despite the setting.

"What he said". You smile sweetly at John, fluttering your lashes, causing a ruckus of laughter around you.

"Be careful, Captain. That one is a sly thing". Johnny claps him on the shoulder.

"I know".

"Don't paint me in a bad light", you joke, nudging John's side with your elbow. The man in question chuckles when watching the pout you send him.

"The lot rub off on me", he indirectly chides Johnny and Kyle, both of whom make faux hurtful sounds upon the comment. "I better steal you away from them and introduce you to better company".

"Who could possibly be better company than us? The silent grump ain't here anyway". The Scotsman questions, glancing around the space with a humoured look until it returns.

"Laswell is better than the two of you together", John returns with a chuckle, his arm tightening around your waist to signal that you soon would be moving to meet whoever this Laswell was.

Upon what's apparently a familiar name, Johnny's brows jump upwards. "She made it here? Didn't think she would".

John only answers with an affirming hum. "Behave now", he offers in goodbye while you give them a wave before he tugs you with him.

As John directs the two of you through the crowd, you soon realise where he's taking you. The woman he's leading you towards is the same one he'd been talking to previously.

You give him a curious glance when you note she isn't dressed in any military uniform, only a long-sleeved jumpsuit. Even so, when you turn to face her again, the woman has noticed your nearing presence and turned toward you, eyes regarding you in a manner too in-depth to be a civilian.

Her eyes flicker sideways as you stop before her, most probably to the man at your side. It's brief but enough for her face to soften and a hint of a smile to quirk her mouth.

"Kate Lawsell", her American accent is apparent as her eyes fall to meet yours again upon the greeting. You're not late to shake the hand she stretched forth, introducing yourself in return. "So you're John's sweetheart?"

You shrug with a smile as you feel John's thumb start brushing circular patterns through the silky material of your dress. "Guess I am". She hums, the corner of her lip twitching a bit further upwards.

"Almost thought he made you up with the lack of evidence about his special someone".

You chuckle while practically feeling how John rolls his eyes. "S'no need to carry a photo with me everywhere".

"Expected it from a traditional one like you", she shrugs one of her shoulders. Their exchange makes you smile, head cocking slightly.

"So, where do you know each other from?"

"I work for C.I.A., deal a fair share with the 141 and that British Captain of yours". Your eyes widen, lips parting in a silent oh as your eyes shift to John, then back to Kate.

"That ain't half-bad". Your comment brings out a chuckle from the dark blonde woman.

"Say that when trying to keep any kind of leash on him". Kate nods towards John, a conspiring look in her eyes, one he gruffs at.

"That so?" You face the man at your side with an amused expression, catching the look he sends the woman opposite him. "Am I hearing that you're a nuisance at work?"

John's eyes flicker to you, his features softening as his head dips in a shake and small huff of laughter. "You women always like to team up".

Despite his comment, you talked with Kate for a few more minutes, getting to know more about her, until separate parties dragged her and John off. This time around, however, you got tugged along to the new conversation, with no choice but to remain glued to the brunette's side as he didn't let up on his hold.

Although relieved to stay with him again, your feet start to feel sore, and your body tired. Consequently, you slowly let John take more room in the conversation as you fell silent, still with a smile present to appear interested in the conversation.

You take a deep breath, careful not to let your exhale sound like a sigh. Even so, John caught it, giving you a brief look to check in on you. You spare him a glance, attempting a soothing smile to fend off any potential concern.

His eyes flitter over your face before he turns forward again, offering a chuckle at something the soldier said. You'd completely missed what it was but mimicked John with a much softer sound huffed through your nose.

You try to concentrate after that, as it's the only polite thing to do. But god, you find your mind wandering to every little ache suddenly emerging.

Shifting the weight on your feet subtly, you try to move your hips to ease the twinge in your spine. Unsuccessful, you straighten your back, rolling your shoulders to try a different approach. Through your peripheral, you notice your squirming caught John's attention again, his gaze flickering sideways momentarily. Soon after, his thumb starts rubbing the small of your back with slightly more pressure just to be a subconscious movement.

John had been attentive to you the whole night, but if you could catch his attention this easily, you had a sneaking suspicion that it wasn't only your concentration that started to stray or energy to wither.

Even if you probably would do both of you a favour by asking if it was time to leave, you didn't want to interrupt their conversation, so you simply let your head fall sideways onto John's shoulder, content with feeling how his kneading thumb eased the discomfort in your lower back.

Thankfully, whoever this Miller was, he didn't keep a long-winded conversation with John as Generals had. Instead, the soldier of equal rank soon bid you both goodbye, explaining his departure as not wanting to take up too much of your time. That made your smile more genuine than it had been while listening to the two men for the last few minutes.

As you sigh lightly, a gentle press against your back suddenly steers you forward. You don't protest when John moves you through the crowd, especially not when noticing he's leading you to the outskirts of it.

"How you feelin', love?" John ducks his head to ask the question as your pace slows.

"I'm good, just a bit exhausted after standing for so long", you return with a shrug as you stop at the edge of the crowd, between the columns lining the wall. You tilt your head to look at John as he stands opposite you. Blue eyes meet yours as his hand moves to the dip of your waist before they skate over the crowd.

You watch John as he does, feeling his finger through your dress as they rap against you, almost as if thinking about something.

Gaze falling, you follow his profile: the slope of his nose, the sharp line of his jaw accentuated by the angle of his head, his beard shining with the oil he'd worked into it after his earlier shower. God, he's too bloody handsome tonight.

From nowhere, you get the urge to lean up and kiss the skin of his throat right above his collar. Though quelling the desire to plant a red mark matching the outline of your lips on his throat here, amongst all these people, that's all it takes for your mind to spiral.

Gonna hold you to your words, love.

His sentence from the hotel room echoes in your mind, and suddenly, you can't wait any longer to be the scapegoat Kyle had dubbed you. Sick and tired of this event already.

When you take a step closer to John, his attention is quickly pulled back towards you. With his now undivided attention on you, you lightly grab the tie tucked beneath his jacket, tugging slightly on it to straighten the material to its previous perfection a few hours earlier.

Satisfied with the minor fix you'd done to his attire, you pat his chest, eyes travelling upwards to lock with his not soon after.

John scrutinises your hands that remain close to where you'd fiddled with his tie rather than drop to your sides. When his blue gaze locks with yours, his head cocks. "What are you up to?"

"M'nothing, just wondering when it's acceptable to leave this event".

John's eyes narrow slightly before his brows rise. "Any special reason to why?"

"Just want to go back to the hotel". You made it evident that trailing your hands down his chest wasn't a coincidence but a conscious decision as you lowered them to pull your purse from beneath your upper arm. "Don't know what you're insinuating".

"You don't?" You only reply with a coy nuh-uh sound as you open your purse, pulling out the golden encasing housing your lipstick.

You'd touched up your makeup once throughout the evening, right after John left you to talk with whoever the American man had been, along with Kate, for the first time. As you do it now, blue eyes fall from yours, following your move of painting your lips in a new coat of red.

"You know very well what you're doin', love". His words are spoken slowly, but their edges are rough, frayed.

"Just playing my part as pretty arm candy". After putting away your lipstick again, you motion to your lips. "Want to help me so I don't get any lipstick on my teeth?" You form your lips into an o, knowing precisely what you're doing.

"Love...", he warns, fingers pressing into your waist.

"John?" You retaliate with a cock of your brow, only to shrug when he makes no move to help you.

Raising a finger, you place only the tip between your lips before pulling it out with a pop.

A repressed groan escapes John, head tilting backwards, eyes shut tightly. "You're doin' this to me on purpose", he grinds out.

"Of course I am", you giggle in return, using your other hand to rather unceremoniously rub away the red colour with your fingers. "So what's the choice? We staying a bit longer or-". You're not even allowed to finish the sentence before John's head tips forward again, and he does it for you.

"We're goin', now". His arm swiftly wraps around your waist to turn the both of you towards the exit.

"Can't play polite anymore?" You let yourself be carried along.

"Been plenty polite when all I've wanted the whole evenin' is to return to the hotel". John's hand scorches the place it pushes against the small of your back, guiding you straight to the very stairs you'd entered through hours ago. "Then you're pretty arse go about actin' up, provin' how much more I would've gotten done there than here", he grumbles, making you swat the side of his chest with a low, chastising John concerning the setting you're on. The man in question only sends you a look, daring you to argue against him, but after forcing his hand to take you back to the hotel, you can't.

There was a warm, eager air between you and John as you retrieved your coats and exited the venue. You shared glances, fleeting but heated locks of your eyes that had your body igniting. Touches setting you aflame even if his was much the same as throughout the evening but firmer, while yours were brief, teasing over his torso.

When John managed to hail a cab, he let you enter first, following seconds later and sitting down in the backseat with a low, frustrated sound.

He tugs his hat from his head, the other hand smoothening his hair. You both know there's a twenty-minute ride ahead of you when even half the time would've been too long and yet you watch him with amusement as his head thuds backwards.

He must feel your eyes on him as his head rolls to face you. You didn't need to say anything; your smile was enough to make him release a low, impatient grunt, eyes closing.

You chuckle, hand settling on John's thigh as you do. Apparently, he thinks there's an ulterior motive behind your action as his eyes snap open, sending you a warning look that, if anything, made you wish you had done something to deserve it. His large hand grabs yours to emphasise the message to not try anything, dropping it in your lap instead. Even so, he doesn't pull away afterwards, instead letting your fingers intertwine.

When finally rolling up to the hotel, John couldn't stop tapping his thumb against your hand as he paid for the cab, practically dragging you along when he exited the car.

With his hat in a white-knuckled grip and your hand in a gentler hold, the two of you moved through the lobby. You felt how fiercely John battled with himself to not stalk to the elevators but keep a pace that wouldn't draw attention and you could match.

It's always amusing seeing John like this, exhilarating if nothing. And that's why you can't help but poke the bear while waiting for the elevator.

You slip your hand from his, blue eyes immediately falling to you as your arm closest to him slides beneath his coat and around his waist, squeezing his mid-drift teasingly.

"Someone seems impatient". The end of your sentence is perfectly followed by the chime of the elevator arriving. Letting your hand drop after pressing your fingers into John's side, you stride into the empty space with a sway to your hips. "I wonder why". You look over your shoulder, a smile gracing your lips as you cock a brow.

John is hot on your heels, pressing the button to close the doors rather than waiting for them to do so.

Just when you turn to lean against the railing the furthest in, he takes the last step towards you, hands settling beside your own, caging you against the wall just as the door slides close.

"You should know what torture it's been havin' you this good-lookin' and unable to do anythin' the whole evenin'". John's words are rushed as his head dips close to your face.

"Ditto", you return in a hum, gaze flittering down and then up again. "There was a relatively empty second floor I thought about dragging you to".

"Fuckin' hell, don't say that", he groans, hand coming to cup the back of your neck, angling your face towards his.

Yet, before John can press his mouth against yours, the elevator suddenly halts on a floor too early to be yours.

He quickly drops his hand and moves so he doesn't corner you against the wall, even though he remains awfully close. Your eyes swiftly snap to the opening doors, schooling your features into a polite smile at the woman who steps into the elevator. She offers you a similar one before her eyes flicker to John. When they do, her eyebrows rise before they jump back to you.

For a few mortifying seconds, you fear she knows precisely what she interrupted until her smile becomes softer.

"If the two of you don't make a stunning pair", she remarks kindly, making John turn his head to look at her, his body still firmly angled towards you.

"Well, thank you", you answer for you both.

"My husband was also in the military", she directs the comment to you even if her eyes flitter to John when she continues. "But he never took me to those fancy events. The old man despised them like the plague".

"Seems like all of them do". You chuckle in return, patting John's side fondly.

The man in question remains remarkably silent, only muttering something under his breath. Your eyes switch to him, sending him a questioning look. Blue eyes return your stare as his head tilts to the right, just a notch, but your brows only pinch together, still not understanding what he's trying to silently get at. That is until his face sets and John angles his hips just slightly more into the upper part of your thigh, and you feel it.

You almost gasped at the considerable bulge in his pants that definitely would be in danger of showing. Yet, you manage not to, only letting your brows shoot up when you finally understand John's silence and the position he was adamant about keeping.

The woman, however, must have interpreted it like some coupley squabble as she chuckles at your interaction, pulling your attention to her.

"Young love, always so charming."

"Young?" John scoffs into your ear, his voice barely enough to be considered a whisper. "Got me feelin' like a bloody teen", he grouses over his predicament.

You duck your head, forehead falling against his shoulder as you muffle the chuckle bubbling in your throat.

While the man you hide your face against notices your shoulders jumping and sends you a glare, the woman again misinterprets your reaction.

"No need to be embarrassed. We've all been young once".

"Did you meet your husband young?" You shift the conversation when finally facing her, sure no trace of your previous amusement could be detected.

"Oh goodness, yes, even younger than the two of you", she motions to you and John with a wave. "Much more immature, too". You almost laugh out loud at that. And like previously, John notices, husking a low, pointed 'Don't laugh' into your ear.

"This one's a real gentleman." You turn to face John, smiling up at him despite being met by a stern expression. What the women don't see is the way your hand trails down, down over his stomach until the flat of your palm presses into the spot just above his groin.

John's jaw flexes, unable to snatch your hand and pull it away if not genuinely desiring to draw attention to what you're doing. But that doesn't stop his blue eyes from meeting yours as he lowly hisses, "And don't do that".

Then, the elevator suddenly lets out a ding as it stops.

"It was lovely to meet you youths, but this is my stop", the woman waves after the doors slide open, John craning his neck to watch her leave with a faint, for your eyes awfully forced, smile. "Have a great evening".

"You too!" You reciprocate her wave as she exits, receiving a friendly smile before the doors close.

Seconds, it takes seconds before your vision is once more filled by John.

"You... love-", he chuckles, nose scrunching as his head cocks to the side. "-oh, you are trouble".

"Don't be moody. You were called a youth", you chuckle. John only manages to open his mouth before the elevator chimes again, this time on your floor.

You know it was your saving grace from how those blue eyes had narrowed at you. Instead, he only exhales sharply as you grasp his hand, forcing him to follow you to the exit.

Although reaching the doors, you stall with one hand holding them open, peeking outside, head swivelling right and left down the corridor. Noticing the coast was clear, you tug John with you.

Even if no one was around, he walked close enough behind you that the slight problem in his pants would be hidden enough if you stumbled into someone.

Thankfully, you didn't meet anyone on the way to your room, sparing you from the embarrassing interaction that could've occurred. However, it enabled John to whip out the key card and more than a bit unceremoniously push you into your room once the light flashed green, the door barely slipping close before he chucked his hat to the side to pull you against him.

John's thick arm winds around your waist, pulling your body against his as his nose gently knocks against yours. Hot lips descending upon yours soon after, moulding your mouths together.

A groan vibrates against your lips, John's fingers digging into your ribcage and the side of your stomach. His near-desperate need to feel you against him makes your fingers curl into the nape of his neck, pulling him closer. The response is instantaneous, his tongue pushing into your mouth as he deepens the kiss. It's your time to release a pleased sound, something melting away from your body as hunger takes its place.

"Fuckin' hell", John nearly rips himself away from you as he grunts the words against your parted lips, hands enveloping your face as he lets his forehead rest against you. Heavy exhales puff against your face in an attempt to steady his heaving chest, to rein in himself. He doesn't remain like that for long, shifting backwards as his eyes flutter open.

John's gaze locks with yours, eyes considerably darker than usual. Sodalite rather than aventurine. A warm shiver runs down your spine, unable to continue meeting those blues due to the flush spreading through your body. And yet, despite the tangible tension, a chuckle travels up your throat when your flickering eyes halt at one spot on his face.

Your amusement and thumb swiping over John's lips to wipe away the lipstick now coating them in a faint red pop the feverish bubble, turning it somewhat softer, less desperate.

When the added colour fades, you finally lock eyes with John again, finding they've creased in the corners.

"Maybe we should get you out of this, so I don't go about tainting that, as well", you hum, fingers falling to toy with his white dress shirt, mindful to keep the thumb you'd wiped his lips with at bay. Only a deep hum escapes John, yet it's enough for you to make do with your suggestion.

Your fingers find the first golden button on his army jacket, unbuttoning that, then the next and all the ones until it falls open. Hands moving inside, you feel the warmth of his skin shielded beneath his dress shirt.

Your hands move up his chest, over his shoulders, until you move the dark blue jacket down his arms. John shrugs out of it, and while letting his wool coat drop to the floor, you're mindful of the jacket, grabbing it in one hand as you move him backwards by pressing your body against his, lips teasingly close but not kissing, only brushing as your breaths mingle.

When you're close enough, you drape his jacket over the chair by the desk before attempting to move on to the next piece of clothing. But apparently, you move too slow for John as he steps back, yanking his tie loose to tug over his head, throwing it to the side. The buttons on his shirt make a frustrated grunt leave him before it's tossed aside as well. While your eyes never leave him, you slip out of your coat, letting it fall to the floor with no greater care than he'd done his clothes seconds later.

Not only does your gaze drop to John's now-bared chest. Your hands move on their own, feeling him up, sliding over his pecs and the slight patch of brown hair covering them before they slide lower, over his stomach, reaching the happy trail beneath his navel. But too soon, your exploration of his burly upper body ends, John moving out of your reach as he steps backwards.

Not until his shins hit the edge of the bed and he sits down does he stop putting space between you.

You watch as his shoes are toed off, all while keeping eye contact with you. Not until John raises a finger, motioning for you to come closer, do you follow him.

You're about to straddle his lap when he stops you, making a twirly motion with his hand. Your head tilts even if you listen, turning your back to him. Gripping your hips, John steers you to sit on his thigh. You wobble slightly as you do, hands shooting to stabilise yourself by grabbing his hand and his other thigh as you press your feet to the floor to keep stable upon the muscular seat.

Once he notices you've found your balance, his big paws slide up your body until his fingers brush the back of your neck. There's barely an ounce of fiddling before you feel the clasp of the dress unhook, and the zipper descends.

Kisses are pressed against the nape of your neck, the top of your spine and a last one on your shoulder blade before John squeezes your hips, urging you to stand with a delicate push upwards and forward. As you do, the heavy fabric of the dress falls to the floor, collecting in a lustrous circle around your feet.

When turning to face the man whose attention never averted from you, only your necklace, panties, and heels are the remnants of your previous outfit.

"Always so fuckin' pretty beneath those things", John mumbles, hands rising from his sides. But, before his hands can reach for you, you settle one of your own on his equally naked chest, giving a gentle shove. But the brunette doesn't heed your want, not letting himself be budged an inch.

"Scoot up, John". You nod upward the bed, positioning one knee between his legs on the tiny sliver of the mattress available. He cocks his head in intrigue, hand grasping the back of your thigh, running up and down with gentle gropes.

"What you plannin', love?"

You press your lips together, John's eyes flickering downwards before returning in a slow trail upwards to meet your gaze. "Wanna be good after how I've teased you, Captain". Your voice drops, nearly entering a purr as you trail your fingers to his jaw.

You see him shudder, goosebumps flittering down his forearms as his big hand squeezes the back of your thigh.

"Fine then", John moves up the bed, and you crawl after him, effectively shrugging off your heels that thud to the floor as you do.

As he makes himself comfortable, you busy yourself with opening his belt and rucking down his pants and boxers in one. John's flushed and erect cock bobs upwards towards his stomach as he lifts his hips for you. Just as you rid him of his pants, you remember something.

When you scoot off the bed again, you haphazardly throw his pants over the same stool as his jacket, moving towards your purse. John props himself on one elbow, brows pulling together as he follows you.

"Thought you say you wouldn't tease, eh?" His voice is husky, verging on impatient as you look over your shoulder, watching as he wraps a hand around the base of himself, most likely not the touch he'd liked as a frustrated rather than pleasurable grunt leaves him.

"I'm not, just fulfilling my promise", you say, wiggling the lipstick you'd fished out before returning to him.

Moving up the bed, you settle on your knees between John's muscular legs. Opening the case, your gaze locks with his as you coat your lips in a more noticeable red. The sight makes his cock twitch in his hand, his head notching backwards slightly, resting on his shoulder, without ever letting those blues leave you.

You shoo away his hand when you're done and throw your lipstick aside, your fingers wrapping around him instead. A pleased hum vibrates from John's chest as he relaxes backwards, head settling against the pillows.

Although promising not to tease, you press a few firm kisses to the lowest parts of his stomach, along his adonis belt and the area just above the cock you're pumping lazily with twisting motions, colouring his skin with red lip-marks.

When satisfied with your work, you finally slot your lips around him, the sudden heat of your mouth making John's cock jerk, one of his hands instinctually shooting to the back of your head with a drawn-out groan filling the air.

Despite usually building up to a swift pace gradually, pulling out the process to build his pleasure, you don't hesitate to overwhelm John with how you drop an inch or two down his cock immediately, tightly sealing your lips around his shaft, doing everything to leave those marks you'd promised around his cock.

"Fuck". John's hips jerk upwards, not expecting the suddenness of your actions, though he manages to stop the full thrust by slamming his head backwards, hand tightening considerably at the back of your head.

A smugness fills your chest as you pull back slightly, suckling the tip leaking precum, tongue swiping back and forth over his frenulum while your hand creates slow, circular rotations at his base.

Through the lowest corner of your eyes, you notice the red rings around his cock, yet you steadily look upwards, following how John's head rises again, eyes half-lidded as your gazes lock. But those blues don't meet yours for long before they fall, the twitch of him inside your mouth and the near growl telling you he also spots the stains left behind by your lipstick.

"Those pretty lips makin' such lovely marks 'round my cock". The sound of his voice is so rough and delicious that your cunt clenches around nothing. "Such a good girl, ain'tcha, love?" You release him with a pop, but rather than answer, you collect your spit on your tongue, stretching it out as your hand moves upwards. Letting the glob of spit hit his cockhead, you coat his saft in the slickness with a pumping motion.

"Fuckin' hell", John rasps, sounding almost pained as his eyelids flutter close, head falling backwards. Your smile is brief before you slot your lips around him again, bobbing your head up and down half of his length, the rest squeezed and jerked by your hand.

"Suckin' me off s'good. Come on, deeper you go". He's not even looking at you as he speaks, his throaty words subdued into the air, almost as if he chokes on them halfway through. If anything, it makes you moan around him as you let the hand on the back of your head press you all the way down until he hits the back of your throat. "Jus' like that", he groans between clenched teeth.

As your tongue plays with the underside of his length and head bobs up and down, you feel him twitch violently inside your mouth, beefy thighs pressing against the side of yours, timbre-low sounds stemming from deep in his chest.

As John finally opens his eyes and looks down at you once more, always so transfixed with the way you desire to please him, he catches the faint glimmer of your jewellery behind the hand and mouth busy with his cock. The stones in the pendant glitter despite the room's dimness, the light from outside finding its way to make them gleam. What's remarkable is that your eyes harbour the shame glint.

Although heady with lust, your eyes are bright, excited, as your gaze meets his. The fact that you love this just as much as he does is enough to make him groan and tip his head backwards, wallowing in the pleasure creeping up his spine.

Only when a slurping noise fills the air as you suck purposefully and tongue plays the underside of his cockhead, does John's release hurtle dangerously close, and he pulls you off with a firm grip on your hair.

"I wasn't done".

"You're gonna be the death of me". That comment melts your stare into a smile.

"Don't die on me, handsome".

"C'mere". John's hand falls from your hair to grip your jaw, pulling you upwards. Your arms shoot to catch you, stabilising on either side of his body as he bends forward, crashing his lips against yours halfway.

It's dirty, your tongue slipping against John's as he pushes into your mouth, no doubt tasting himself on you. But it doesn't bother him, never has, not when it's on your lips that he tastes himself.

"You wet, love?" He groans against your lips before slanting his mouth against yours anew, your whined 'yes' going straight into his mouth. You unconsciously press your legs together, wiggling your hips, the motion along your forward-bent position exposing your drenched panties to the considerably cooler air. It urges another sound into the mesh of lips, a whine of discomfort this time.

"Bet you fuckin' are, love suckin' my cock".

A shudder runs down your whole back. "John-"

"Love bein' fucked even more, eh? Get on your back". The demand barely leaves his lips before you shift over his form, laying down just to the left of his previous position in the king-sized bed.

John moves between your legs, resting on his haunches as he pulls both your legs upwards, squeezing them together as he lets them rest against his chest. With a yank, he pulls your panties off your hips, the wetness on the crotch area dragging against the inside of your thighs as he tugs off the piece of fabric.

You don't know where they end up, wide eyes following John as he lets your legs down, pinning your thighs to the side, wasting no time before his hand slips over your cunt.

"Fuckin' soppin'", he drawls, confirming the answer you'd given him. "Can't wait to feel me stretch you out, can you?" His thumb runs down to your fluttering entrance, teasingly pushing against it. Before he goes any deeper, though, he collects some of your slick and trails his thumb to your clit.

He plays with your bundle of nerves just the way he knows you like. The pressure, speed, and everything he'd learnt about your body is now utilised to get you even more desperate, even wetter. And it works like a bloody charm too, your gasps soon turning to low moans and whines.

"C'mon, love, gotta be quiet", John shushes you, settling a hand over your throat, your necklace digging into his palm. He doesn't squeeze, simply rests it there to accentuate his point, and yet, he doesn't let up on playing with your clit, not even as your squirm, his thumb only chasing you through the movement. "Can't let everyone hear you, now can we?"

Even if you realise John deliberately must have kept his voice down as you blew him -because, of course, you're not at home- even if you try your damnedest, you can't contain your sounds of pleasure.

"Can't", you whine. John makes a deep sound, something between soothing and a snarl that makes your heart jump. Your eyes widen when his gaze darkens and he leans closer, all while his fingers apply more pressure on your clit, the pace quickening. As his face hovers over yours, your mouth falls open, letting out just one of those breathy moans he told you to hold.

"Can't, eh?" John releases your throat and leans back, but not enough to sit straight. Instead, he bends your legs forward and hooks his arm around your waist, manually flipping you over with a swift jerk. "That should do the trick".

It's a strength you know he possesses, but it makes you gasp in surprise anyway, the sound now muffled as your head is slotted in the crease between pillows.

Two big paws suddenly grab your asscheeks, groping the fat as you feel the man behind you lean over you just after widening your legs with his knees.

"Stunnin' fuckin' view from back here. This pretty arse-", John spanks your ass with one hand, making you keen, instinctually arching your back towards John. "- and your lovely cunt, just weepin' for me", the same hand that soothed the sting of his slap slide to your wetness.

You beg, a please moaned from your lips as he stretched you, barely any trouble going from one to two fingers with a few pumps. When he doesn't respond, you try again, louder, but only get a chuckle in return.

"Can't hear you, love". Amusement fills John's voice, making you frustratedly whine into the mattress before pushing a pillow to the side, raising your head only to crane it over your shoulder. Sitting behind you is an awfully smug-looking Brit.

"Please", you breathe the whisper, now mindful of your tone, which only widens his smile as he leans over your sprawled-out form.

The sudden prodding against your entrance comes without any warning, and you whip your head around to press into the mattress, muffling your moan so violently that John chuckles. But the sound swiftly deepens, evolving into a tight-lipped groan as he slowly pushes deeper.

Your back arches when his pelvis hits your backside, your motion prompting the slow grind of his hips against you. He doesn't even pull out, only rolls his hips shallowly against your rear.

All John can do is work his hips back and forth, listening to your faint moans slipping from the mattress your face rests against and the slick sounds of your pretty pussy being fucked.

When he leans his weight forward, hands gripping your hips, John shoves himself even further inside you, driving your face further into the bed. You practically sob, clit pulsing and throbbing and god—

"Fuck, you feel s'good 'round me". The lewd way he said it, a groan breaking the sentence into two with the unhurried sound of skin slapping occasionally, had you choking on an affirming moan. "Makin' such a mess. Pretty cunt's so wet, stretched".

John stuffs his fat cock into you with slow, even thrusts from behind, watching how you grip him tight when he pulls out and sucks him in once he pushes forwards.

It's slow until it's not.

When John loses patience, or the pleasure simply gets too much for him not to chase more, he changes the pace, making the curve of your ass jiggle against his hips with each shove of his cock into your cunt. You push your face into the bedding as far as not choking yourself goes, moaning throatily as you clench around him.

He fills you so deliciously like this. Each firm press of his hips against your ass crams his entire girthy length into you as his balls push against your clit. The rocking motion fills the air with wet slaps that make your head spin and fingers curl into the covers.

You moan unabashedly as he fucks you. Deep and fast enough that he needs to angle your hips, but when you just keep sliding back prone against the bed from the force of his shoves, John simply leans over you with a growl, fucking you down into the bed.

Whining, you thrash your head at the way he pounds into your sweet spot buried so deep. With your mouth falling open, it's no surprise if saliva soaks the fabric beneath your face.

Your orgasm doesn't even build slowly. It's a tumbling mess that, once it starts, just picks up momentum until you hurl face-forwards into it. It's so violent it catches John off-guard. The sudden way you shudder with a broken moan, the muscle of your back tensing, walls clamping down on him, everything without him even having to play with your clit, tells him you were just as worked up and exhausted as him, not able to do anything but let the pressure release.

"Fuck", he curses, thick and dark, feeling you get even slicker and tremble beneath his fingers.

Even through your drunken haze, you catch the drawn-out vowel of the word, which tells you John's close.

What surprises you, however, is that rather than rut irregularly into you until he buries himself deep and comes, his hand shoots to rest beside your head to catch his weight when he falls forward, slipping out of you in the process. Leaving your fluttering aftershocks to clench around nothing.

You feel as John jerks himself, his knuckles brushing over your skin rapidly. His breath cascades over the back of your head, head probably hanging low between his shoulders as he gazes down your body. Albeit not knowing what he has in mind -his fixation on spilling deep inside you as he pushes himself as close as possible to you no secret- you arch your spine, wiggling your ass upwards.

It prompts a deep, growling moan from him before his breath does a little hitch, then he groans, pleased and drawn out as you feel his release shoot over your ass and then straight over your pussy.

The bed quivers beside your head, all strength momentarily escaping John's burly frame that slackens against your back. Although he slumps to his forearm to keep most of his weight off, his other hand resting on the bed near the dip of your waist, he still presses you considerably deeper into the mattress.

John's heaving exhales disturb your hair, but your eyes remain closed, your whole body feeling light and satisfied as you relax, fingers uncurling from the covers.

When the man behind you finally moves, you don't have the energy to rise and look at what he does when he grabs your cheeks in his big hands, massaging the plush flesh with parting motions. But, you can only imagine he stares at the white ropes of cum coating your rear, gaze dropping to follow the way it dribbles down over your cunt.

Even if John doesn't do it for long, a pleased hum fills the air before he stops.

His hands are suddenly replaced with something that swipes over your asscheek and down between your legs. Despite twitching at the contact as it moves along your sensitive core, you release an appreciative sound as he wipes you clean of your releases. John replies by bending forward, kissing your shoulder-blade before shifting off you with a last squeeze to your hip.

Despite feeling the mattress dip beside you, his form slumping to the side with a low grunt, you already miss his warmth.

You breathe heavily, your exhale bordering on a whine warming the covers your face is burrowed in. When your sound gets nothing in return, your breath out softly again, hand searching for John. Just as your hand lands upon his chest, you catch a chuckle before fingers wrap around your wrist. You're tugged sideways, pulled partly onto the chest you'd fumbled your way to feeling.

Although now looking down at John, you don't see much of him, your hair is mussed enough that most of your vision is covered. A giggle escapes you while a huff of amusement passes through John's nose as he brushes your face clear of its momentary shield.

"There she is", John hums when your gazes lock with nothing in between. There's a tug in the corner of his lip, eyes lidded as he watches you.

The tilt of his head and craning of his neck is slow. The kiss he initiates is equally deliberate and sweet. Although the exchange is brief, as he parts, John lingers close to your face with his forehead resting against yours, hand brushing over your cheek feathery light.

He murmurs something low enough you can't catch but hum in return nonetheless. A few seconds later, he rises from the bed. As he does, you move to your back, wiggling beneath the sheets to not experience the cold, knowing the sheet must be warmed thanks to your bodies. A content sigh leaves you when you realise you've been right.

As your gaze settles upon John's bare form, rifling around his bag for whatever he's searching for, you can't help how your eyes trail over him. That's how your eyes locate the faint red marks littering his body, some more smudged than others.

Your giggle catches John's attention as he shifts towards you, a pair of boxer briefs now in his hands. But rather than meet his gaze, your eyes flitter over his form, numerous outlines of red lips littered along his lower stomach and groin. Your laughter intensifies, and John follows your line of attention, only to tilt his head upwards again with a smile when he finds what caught your attention.

"You look real pretty with my lipstick all over you", you comment once your laugh fades, head tilting against the pillow behind your head, eyes locking with John's.

"Quiet the artist", he chuckles as he pulls on his underwear.

"It isn't waterproof, so you'll be able to wash it off with water".

"Think about makin' one of 'em into a tattoo". John points to one of the still near-perfect copies of your lips just inside his hipbone and above his waistband. "Make 'em permanent". His wink makes your mouth fall open.

"Please don't!" Your revolt makes him chuckle.

"What do I get if I don't?"

"Me only asking for a pair of pants and not a shirt along with them. And cuddles?" You stretch out your arms towards John with your offer. He huffs a laugh, moving to your bag to dig through it for your underwear.

"Never sayin' no to half-naked cuddles with you, love", you shake your head fondly just before the clothing article you requested is thrown your way.

As John rounds the bed, you lean forward to snatch your panties from the covers. You barely have enough time to slip them on before John, with practised ease, settles into the bed on his side and pulls you close, naked chests pressed against each other.

You sigh in contentment as John's warmth seeps into your body, arms winding around his neck to get closer and being able to graze your nails through the hair on the back of his head, which makes him pull you even closer in return.

The moment drags on as you card fingers through his hair. Every now and then, you feel the gel he'd cursed over as he styled it before the event, still intact at certain places despite the overall moussed state of his locks.

Somewhere along the way, a hefty, pleased sigh leaves the man holding you as his head burrows into your neck, nuzzling against the necklace still around your throat. Your eyes flutter close upon the rhythmic breaths puffing against your skin, melting more into John's burly body.

"You're awfully cuddly tonight", you hum but make no move to disturb the peaceful air by moving.

"Could say the same about you".

You chuckle at the response breathed against your skin. "Can never get too much of you". A set of warm lips press a kiss to your throat, making you hum contentedly before continuing to speak. "Especially not after tonight when everyone's been fighting for your attention".

There's a few seconds of silence and then a sigh.

"More people goin' to fight for it soon". Your brows pull together at the sudden shift of air when John emerges from your neck, blue eyes locking with yours. "Before introducin' you to Laswell, I got informed we're set out on a mission."

You sighed, nodding at his explanation. It was only about time. "When?

"A week, but it won't be a long one". You perk up at that, John noticing, a small smile tugging in the corner of his lips. "Estimated to be back home before Christmas".

"Yeah?" He hummed an affirmative. Your smile twitched just slightly wider, unable not to press a kiss to his lips. You felt his chuckle just before you parted from him.

"Someone's happy about that". John's brows arched, head tilting to the side.

"Just... didn't have much planned for Christmas this year, so I thought about maybe asking-", you got interrupted by his lips pressing against yours this time. The passion with which John kissed you made your chest flutter.

"Wanted you with me this weekend just in case you had somethin' in the calendar or I wasn't home", he breathed against your lip when putting some distance between the two of you again.

You bite your lower lip, brows raising. "John, are you saying you wanted to ask me about spending Christmas together too?"

"Didn't know if it was an awfully traditional period for you", he said, giving you a half-hearted shrug.

"How sweet of you". You cooed, pecking John's lips, earning yourself a content huff from the man cocooning you with his arms and body. "But I would've wanted to spend some time with you no matter what". As you said this, that handsome smile of John's unfolds as he pulls you on top of him. He released a deep chuckle at your slight squeal, only for both of your sounds to fade as he stared up at you and you down at him.

God, you couldn't wait until Christmas.

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genshin-side-piece · 1 month

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Hazy Shade of Winter (Part 1)

Warnings: Yandere Content, Implied Kidnapping, Implied Captivity, Implied Stalking, Implied drug use, Mentions of alcohol, ]Non-Consensual Touching, my bad writing, anything else I missed, 18+, Minors DNI

A/N: Slightly (?) OOC Wriothesley. I think. I'm honestly not sure. But fair warning just to be safe.

You awoke to a loud clang. The sharp noise reverberated through your drowsy skull, pulling you from the heavy slumber that had kept you under until this time. Cloudy thoughts were covered by a heavy layer of fog, making it difficult for you to focus. You couldn’t place the source of the sound. Metal had connected with metal, making it distinctly foreign to you. In all the years that you had lived in the Court of Fontaine, you had never heard anything make such a racket. It was doubtful such a disturbance would be tolerated by the general population, let alone your neighbors. The harsh, cutting quality was enough to wake the dead, yet there were no screams that followed it. Just an echo that quickly faded and the sound of air being pushed through pipes.

Air being pushed through pipes?

The mental fog lifting enough for you to flinch at the bitterness that rested on your tongue. Heavy and salty and altogether awful. Your stomach involuntarily wretched at the taste. You tried to use what little saliva you could muster in the hope that you could wash it away, but that too was in vain. The taste just lingered without any hope of it going away. “Here” The injection of the rich male voice into your world briefly snapped you of your stupor. Out of everything, whether it be the metal or the pipes or the lumpy mattress that was not yours, the most out of place was that voice. You lived alone. When you had returned home last night, at least the small bit that you could remember, you had sworn you had been alone. The two at the bar, who had turned a relaxing cocktail for one into a pub crawl, were nowhere to be seen. You had been wandering the streets of the court alone. Slipping and stumbling the entire way, but at last check, you had been on your own. So where had the man beside you come from?

You blinked up at him, ignoring the glass of water he was offering you. Your hazy mind was too preoccupied with trying to place him. You knew him, no, you’d seen him before. Recently. Had he come into your place of work? No. Perhaps it had been in a shop or on the street? Narrowing your eyes at him, you thought it might be, but it still didn’t explain why he was here. Looking past him, it didn’t explain why you were clearly not at home. The patchwork metal walls and dim lights were a far cry from the plaster embellishments and glass lamps of the court. Though, they seemed to match, if not enhance the scarred facade of the man beside you. “My apologies for the rough awakening.” He shifted, the chains of his attire moving with him. The clanking sound that filled the room as he set the glass of water to one side grated on you. It pierced through the air, causing the throbbing in your head to get worse. “That stuff in your system packs quite the punch.” What? You turned away from him trying to make sense of that statement. What stuff? You couldn’t make heads nor tails of what he meant by the word stuff. “I told them to take it easy on you, especially since they were already plying you with alcohol, but it seems they didn’t heed my warning. You’ve been out for close to an entire day.” Your entire body involuntarily lurched at that news. What? An entire day? How could that be? You’d gone home hadn’t you? His vague references didn’t mean anything, because they hadn’t happened. That was the only logical explanation you could muster. “I was actually getting slightly worried. The head nurse was under the impression something else might be amiss. I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to know you’re okay. Though, I suppose she’ll still recommend some restorative treatments.” He made a face, one that echoed both dread and disgust. “I’ll do my best to spare you, but you may have to humor her some. Just for the sake of your relationship with her. I’d hate for you to get on her bad side at the start. It doesn’t make for a comfortable living arrangement if we don’t get along.” You blinked. The casualness of that statement seemed out of sorts given your present situation. How could he speak of relationships or living arrangements when you had no clue as to where you were and who he was? This wasn’t your home. You didn’t live here. Unless-

Your eyes darted around the room again. A foreign place. A bed, a place to refresh yourself, a strange arrangement with an even stranger man. The effects of the stuff you had been given cleared just long enough to allow you to realize the gravity of your situation.

The reaction that followed your epiphany was almost an involuntary one. Your entire body disregarded your drug induced hangover long enough to make the sorry attempt at fleeing. You tried to leave the bed, but the man who later introduced himself as Wriothesley was quick to stop you. His thick heavy arms had come around you before you had even fully sat up, effectively keeping you right where he wanted you. There was a struggle. Despite your queasiness and your pounding headache, you fought him. You twisted and turned in his grasp, desperate to get out of it, desperate to get away. He only tightened his hold on you, cooing reassuring words at you like one would to calm a frightened animal. The notion that everything would be alright. That you just needed time to adjust to your new surroundings. That he would take care of you from now on caused you to retch. How could he say such a thing, when you’d had no choice in the matter? Your life up until this point had been average, bordering on boring, but otherwise fine. Who was he to say that it needed changing?

At some point, after what felt like hours, he let you go. Wriothesley put some much needed space between you, allowing you to absorb the facts he chose to tell you about your situation without the burden of him being wrapped around you. His weight, coupled with the explanation that he had oh so nicely prepared for you would have been a cumbersome thing. It was as you had fear. You had been abducted, but by whom was far worse than you ever could have imagined. It would have been enough if he had been some lord or even a high ranking member of one of the crime families. You would have a level of recourse then. If you managed to get free, you could charge him. You could have him sent away. In the end, there would be justice. With Wriothesley, that wasn’t possible. Though he carried the title of Duke, he was for all intents and purposes King of your new home. Immune from both the laws of the court and the justice you found yourself beginning to crave. It was a cruel twist on what was proving to be a brutish situation. You could only sit there in silence after he finished, smoldering as your fate washed over you.

“You’re taking this quite well.” You blinked, trying to quell the rage that had been building since you had first woken up. The fact that he sounded legitimately surprised did nothing to help your mood or the growing urge to claw his face to shreds. How did he expect you to take it? Did he think you would make a scene? Had he gotten out of bed thinking he would hear screaming and wailing coming from the general vicinity of your door? You rolled your eyes in response to his praise, choosing to turn them away from him. The wall next to you seemed infinitely more interesting than the man who was blocking your only exit. “Come on.” He shifted ever so slightly, the chains on his outfit moving with him, rattling as they settled back into place. “I had to.” He had to. You let out a silent huff at the lame excuse. He was the Duke of Meropide. The only thing he had to do was maintain order in the fortress. Last you checked, having someone spike your drink with a heavy sedative and stripping you of everything you owned was not a part of his duties. Yet here you were, in a strange bed, locked in a strange room, with only a cotton shift to your name. You could only guess that the slim comfort of the bed and modesty of the shift ought to be viewed as a gift, considering he could have left you nothing at all. That fact did little to assuage the fire that was currently shooting through your veins. The sheer audacity of the entire situation was enough to make you want to claw his eyes out. The actual act though would involve you having to acknowledge his existence. An action you weren’t keen on following through with.

He moved again, this time the hard rubber soles of his boots scraped against the metal floor. They stopped after a few seconds, only to be followed by a creak of metal that came from the general direction of the footboard. From the corner of your eye, you could see Wriothesley leaning against it. He obviously wanted a closer look at his hard won prize or maybe he just wanted to test the proverbial waters. You weren’t entirely sure and you weren’t in the mood to find out. Instead you held your focus on the wall, beginning to mentally count the bolts as a means of drowning him out. 1..2.. The bed groaned as he shifted his weight again. 13..14..There was another rattle of chains followed by a soft thunk against the floor. That had to be his jacket. God he wasn’t getting undressed was he? Surely Wriothesley wasn’t callous enough to abduct you and force himself on you within the same day, was he? The memory of him holding you down came back. A cold shiver shot down your spine at the very idea of it, of him using his weight to do more than just restrain you. 27..28.. The bed groaned for a third time, followed by more footsteps. These drawing ever louder, ever closer. Your heart began to slam against your ribcage as he stalked you, closing the short distance between you. The cold that had made it’s way down your spine began to ebb through you with every step he took. The louder they got, the sharper the chill that raced over your skin. You swallowed hard, trying to calm the shivers that were flowing across you like waves. You could hear him now, goosebumps raising all over your skin when the jingling of his handcuffs was so near to your ear. 41.. The footsteps stopped. Above you, he hummed, the rough flesh of his hand slowly wrapping itself around your chin. On instinct, you broke contact with the wall, trying to get away from him, but his nails scraping against your chin stopped you. You whimpered as his jagged nails bit into your flesh forcing your attention firmly back to him. It took almost no strength on his part to force your head in the direction he wanted, yet he still used slightly more than was necessary, just to get his point across. His fortress, his captive, his everything. You held no power here. Not now, not ever.

“For future use and reference.” You swallowed again as you were forced to stare up into those piercing eyes of his. “I don’t care for being ignored. Especially when I’m addressing someone.” Wriothesley tilted his head, a soft smile permeating his lips as he brushed his thumb over your chin. “But I’ll make an exception here.” His tone, which had been annoyingly cocky up until this point, faded into something slightly gentler. Something you could almost mistake for understanding, possibly even empathy for your current situation. A deceptive tactic on his part. Something to play into the fear that was still racing through your entire body and ease you into forgetting that your entire reason for being here was standing before you. Had you just only woken up or maybe if you had still been under the influence of the sedative, it might have worked. You might have bought it. But your benevolent captor had waited a hair too long. He had given you enough time to get your wits about you and because of that, you could catch him in the lie before it was too late. “You have every right to be angry, especially today. I can’t take that away from you.” His hot breath fanned across your face, causing you to momentarily flinch. The sensation was in direct contrast to his eyes, which matched the chill that was coming up through his fingers. The cold that radiated from his skin hurt to the point that it burned. You squirmed in his grasp, trying to get away from those unrelenting fingers of his, but it was no use. He had a firm, to the point of punishing grip on you. One he had no intention of loosening any time soon. “I’ll be generous and give you today.” He paused, thinking it through. “Actually, I’ll give you until after my morning meeting. I can’t accuse you of breaking my rules if you aren’t aware of them and unfortunately, I can’t explain them or my expectations to you right now. So consider this a pass, free of charge.” You wanted to spit on his definition of generosity. He would get the rest of your days to ruin what little life he allowed you to have, yet you were expected to process everything that had happened and would happen to you in an hour? The inequity of it was ridiculous. “Oh don’t look at me like that.” He offered you a cocky smile, the confident tone returning. “If you’re good, I’ll bring you something nice to eat later.” You had to wonder what he meant by good. Aside from the bed, the only other items in the room were a sink, a toilet, and what looked to be a crude form of a shower. Short of soaking your bedding or possibly the mattress, you weren’t entirely sure what kind of trouble you could cause. He had purposefully limited your options to doing more harm to yourself than him. If he was as clever as he had shown himself to be, Wriothesley wouldn’t give you much chance to hurt him directly.

With time things might change. He seemed like he had the ability to soften. Much of the sarcastic act you were seeing was exactly that, an act. If you played your cards right, might he give you an opening to hurt him, but it wasn’t like it would be worth it. The investment for the opportunity would take months and that’s if he ever opened himself up for the shot. If he did, and you were able to take it, the wound wouldn’t be a deep one. It would be superficial at best. A minor inconvenience for him. The hell he could bring after it was enough to end those thoughts before they went any further. The punishment that would follow for the impertinence of trying would be far worse than anything you could even attempt to do. For now, it was easier to acquiesce to some of his demands, at least until you could see how much rein his rules and expectations would give you. “I wish I could stay.” He let out a whimsical sigh. “How nice it would be for us to get better acquainted over the course of the morning, but-” He sighed heavily. “Duty calls.” He pressed your face a little harder, adjusting his grip so he could bunch your cheeks. The discomfort, along with the gentle rocking of his hand pulled what you knew would be many squeals out of you. He only laughed, bending down slightly so he could coo at you. “You’re so ungodly precious.” Wriothesley sighed again, lovingly regarding you for a moment. The notes of affection and pride that were evident on his face made you want to slap them right off of it. “Aw look at that glare. Still angry huh?” A very undignified puff of air through your nose was your only response. One that was matched by a shit-eating grin from him. “You’re cute when you’re angry. Though, you’ll have time to sort through it while I’m gone.” He paused for a beat. “Why don’t you start us off on the right foot and give me one of your charming smiles before I go. I know you’re angry, but it’ll help me get through the monotony of the next few hours.” He let out another chuckle, one of his fingers loosening slightly so he could run it across the base of your cheek. “Now that you’re with me, I may need it all the time.”

You could do nothing but stare at him as you felt your blood pressure spike even higher. Was he serious? Did he really expect you to smile at him after all he had put you through? It was hard to believe. Clever he may be, but in touch with reality, he certainly was not. Thanks to his actions, you doubted if you would ever smile again. “Come on sweetheart.” He tightened his grip on your chin again, giving it a little shake. You flinched, but that was all. The last thing you wanted was to give him the satisfaction of pulling another sound out of you. “Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.” Something dangerous flashed in his eyes, his once confident tone dropping an octave as you refused to follow another one of his orders. For a brief moment, you saw the man who had actually had you kidnapped. His amiability was little more than a tool. It was conditional on whether he got what he wanted. If it failed, that tool would be swapped in for something altogether different. That would happen with every infraction. When one tool failed him, he would simply try another. He would keep doing so until he found what worked best. Whether that was pain or pleasantries, you could tell it didn’t really matter to him. Just so long as he got his way. “It’s just a smile.” His tone had captured the chill that you had become numb too. You nearly shivered from it, but you were able to stop yourself in time. His request was a simple one. An easy one. It required a minimal effort on your part, but it would ultimately be a gain for him. Right now, all he wanted was a smile. A small, yet significant sign that you were willing to obey him. That his deception tactics and attempts to get you to trust him had worked. If you followed through on it, then that gave him license to ask for more. The more you gave him, the less you could refuse later on. Your willing obedience would bring an expectation of behavior with it. One he would never let you forget.

Smile, speak, sit, stand. They were all commands that you imagined he would eventually expect you to learn and perform at his whim and pleasure. He had already made it abundantly clear that you had very little choice in the matter. Yet you refused the command all the same. If he could test the waters, so could you. Your eyes just fixed on his, glaring up at him in utter defiance of his order, daring him to try and frighten you further. “Hm.” He tapped a finger against your jaw, causing you to blink. “Seems like I’ve got some work to do with you. A shame really.” He tilted his head in the other direction, heavily exhaling through his nose. “But maybe some time alone will change that.” Wriothesley broke eye contact first, looking around the room for a moment before those eyes of his found yours again. “I did say you could be upset at me, so by all means, be upset.” He gave your face one final squeeze before his hand fell away and you were finally able to put some much needed distance between you and him. An action that didn’t go unnoticed by him. His displeasure as you shuffled away from him was evident. “When I return though -” He planted a hand on his hip. “I expect that to be the end of it.” He paused looking away for a second. “Or at the very least.” He looked at you again. “We have a polite conversation about the future.” You wanted to ask what future? Did he expect you to politely discuss the future he had stolen from you? The one where you were happy and oblivious to the monster that lurked just below the waves. The same one who had seen fit to breach the safety of the shore, just so he could pull you under.

Or perhaps he meant the other future. The one where you were forever sealed beneath the unforgiving sea. Bound to a man you found neither desirable nor worthy. Forced to smile and obey and be little more than a pet until death saw fit to take either him or you. A horrific, abysmal future that not even the gods themselves would save you from. How could you expect them too, when he had taken you beyond where any of them could ever hope to hear? That was the hard reality of life within the walls of the Fortress of Meropide. A place to abandon the lost, the forgotten, and the unwanted. It was the dumping ground of the world above. A den so rife with vice and sin that not even the gods themselves could ever hope to sort it out. According to many it had improved since the new administrator had taken over. He had ended the corruption and the chaos that had plagued what many had termed the tin hell. Yet miraculously, even with Wriothesley’s efforts it was still a place where the gods found it all too easy to turn a deaf ear to the screams and the cries of the repetent as they echoed up from beneath the waves. Here there were no gods. No heros. No saints. Here there was only hell. Only the sinners. Only Wriothesley to save you from it all. In the span of a night, under the witness of heavens above, he had become your god.

All you could do was stare back and question how benevolent your new god would actually be.

#wriothesley x reader #genshin wriothesley #wriothesley genshin #yandere wriothesley #yandere genshin #yandere genshin impact #yandere x reader #genshin #genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin fanfic #yandere genshin impact fanfic #genshin fiction #genshin fanfic #genshin impact fanfic #genshin impact fiction

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onlyswan · 1 year

Text

summary: in which jungkook’s tattoos cure your winter blues and you paint his life with colors.

> fluff / wc: 2.3k

> warnings: brief mention of mother gothel being an abusive gaslighter lol you’ll seeeee, one (1) nipple pinch

note: reblogged this post with the tattoos mentioned in the drabble so you can check those out for better visualization if you want !! :D

my first post of year being about jungkook’s tattoos only feels right. hehe feedback is always appreciated <3

—

you breathe out another sigh as your peripheral vision catches the view of snow falling from the heavens yet again. you’re lying on the floor with a pillow and a blanket, only a few feet away from the glass door dividing the balcony and the living room.

“a penny for your thoughts?”

you tilt your head to peek through the book you’re reading. “what?”

“you’ve been sighing and pouting.” jungkook points out from the couch, dedicated to the task of folding the fresh laundry. two stacks of clothes, separated by yours and his, are sitting on his right, while the laundry basket is on his left.

“. . . and your octopus is mad.” referring to that famous reversible octopus plushie you bought for fun many months ago. it’s sitting behind your pillow, color blue and stitched with a displeased expression.

you lay down the book over your chest before sighing deeply. “i feel sad. i miss summer.”

your confession makes him quirk a curious eyebrow. “you miss summer? but you hate summer.”

unsure about how to explain yourself, you stick with silence, eyeing him intently with a frown you don’t even realize you’re making.

“what’s that look for?” he chuckles nervously while clutching a pair of your pajama shorts to his chest.

“you’re wearing a sweater.”

as if on cue, he looks down at the cream-colored sweater embracing his torso. “and? you got this for me.”

“it’s the reason i’m missing summer!” you sit up abruptly, the book stumbling over your lap before it finally lands on the floor. and before you can rethink the words you’ve been whining non-stop inside your head, they break free from the restraints on your tongue. “i miss seeing your tattoos.”

an amused grin paints his face. he throws his head back with his eyes closed and nose scrunched, laughing with no sound as he processes your revelation.

“that’s what this is about?”

“. . . yes.” you answer hesitantly, realizing how you just dug yourself a grave and pushed yourself in it.

he tuts as he tucks his long hair behind his ears, crossing his legs and stretching his tattooed arm on top of the couch’s backrest. you catch the tail of his snake tattoo peeking out of the sweater’s sleeve.

what an evil, sexy, sexy man.

“it’s your fault. you won’t let me turn up the heating so i’m always cold.”

“i woke up sweating yesterday when you turned it up again. this is a house, not a sauna.”

“and you make it too cold!” he interjects with a laugh. “want to meet halfway?”

it seems that the deal he just offered is the only possible solution to your winter blues. the holidays have come and gone. the decorations and lights are already being taken down, and you can’t stand to live a colorless life.

you act defeated, feigning your eagerness, but he doesn’t miss the small smile forming on your face. “fiiine.”

“okay!” he enthusiastically responds with that satisfied grin he makes when he gets his way.

he doesn’t waste any time. he instantly goes to adjust the temperature inside the house, going exactly between the numbers you stubbornly punch in behind each other’s backs. forced to come out of your little cocoon, you rip away the blanket from your body and toss it aside.

“i’ll get rid of the sweater now.” he clicks his tongue and sends a teasing wink your way as he walks to your shared bedroom.

you groan, burying your flustered face in the palm of your hands to hide. “i hate you sometimes.”

his melodic laughter echoes in the hallway.

—

jungkook enters the walk-in closet to replace the sweater with a classic white sleeveless shirt. on sunny days, he often wears this or go shirtless in your home. you’ve been especially happy with that since summer last year— after he got his faded tattoos colored, redesigned, and covered up.

of course, you’ve always shown plenty admiration to his first tattoos and the many more that came after them. he gradually filled up the space on his right arm with the ink and formed a tattoo sleeve. however, his new and improved tattoos seem to bring you a special kind of joy he must admit he doesn’t fully understand.

he’s been planning to get his arm fixed since he noticed the tattoos starting to fade, but he struggled to find the time to finalize his design ideas and get the job done. the truth is you were the one who inspired him to quit overthinking every little detail, and to finally carry on with his long overdue plans.

it all started with his birth flower.

—

“all those days watching from the windows, all those years outside looking in~” you sung along softly to tangled’s most beloved song.

jungkook diverted his attention from the television to observe you, unconsciously smiling to himself as he did so. your legs were draped over his lap, and your back was hunched forward as you entertained yourself with coloring his tiger lily tattoo as if it was a page on a coloring book.

it was seven minutes past midnight, and you like the room as dark as possible when you do movie date nights. that’s why you were practically using the lanterns during rapunzel and flynn rider’s ‘i see the light’ as your own lights of guidance as well.

when you paused the movie just before the song started, he thought you were just going to use the bathroom. but you quickly came back with the box of temporary tattoo markers he forgot that even existed. he bought it years ago and used the black marker to figure out the placements of his hand tattoos because he was scared that he’d end up not liking how they looked together. honestly, he doesn’t even remember packing it when he moved in with you. were you the one who saved it from the discard pile?

and as you held his arm close to you, you innocently asked him. “may i?”

“do whatever you want, baby.” he gave permission not only because your bewitching eyes were sparkling, but also because he knew how you find joy in doing little things like this.

you were most probably inspired by the sundrop flower mother gothel stole, he thought as he watched you bring his birth flower to life. you colored the anthers dark brown, and you were already halfway done with the orange petals.

he noticed that you kept on trying to move your head closer to his arm so you could see the details of his tattoo better, which caused your glasses to often slide down your nose bridge, so he took it upon himself to hang it suspended in the air to make things easier for you.

that was until you slapped his wrist lightly. “put it down. your arm will get sore.”

and he dropped it back down.

“thanks, baby boy.”

the pet name made him blush profusely, the rose tint that adorned the apple of his cheeks concealed by the light from the television screen reflecting on his face. its effect on him, never changing, because you only utter it occasionally and it catches him off guard every damn time.

when she successfully brought rapunzel back to the tower, you brought up how mother gothel is one of scariest disney villains for her realistic portrayal of an abusive gaslighter posing as a loving mother. jungkook didn’t even realize that you were still watching the movie. and then you obstructed his vision with the box of markers to briefly steal his attention away from the screen.

“pick two colors.”

“hmm, red and blue.”

“i’m doing this one next.” you pointed at the ‘WINNERS NEVER QUIT’ tattoo above the crease of his forearm. “should i use the colors interchangeably or like make a gradient?”

“gradient.” he responded, yawning sleepily right after.

“i sound like a real artist, don’t i?” you asked with a toothy grin.

“you are one. this looks pretty, love.” he talked about the tiger lily, stretching his forearm towards the television to shine light over it. “when did you get a glitter pen?”

you waved the gold glitter pen with a giggle. you used it to make the flower look like it was radiating magical star dust. “i brought it with the markers.”

and that’s when he decided to finally contact the tattoo artist he’s been meaning to meet up with since the year prior. you made him see the element of art that his tattoos dangerously lacked. colors.

if there was anyone on earth who would be able to open his eyes to that, it only made sense that it would be you.

—

“you finished showering?” you peeked into the walk-in closet, excitedly skipping your way to jungkook. he was standing infront of his underwear cabinet, fresh from the shower and only wearing a towel wrapped around his waist.

he chuckled straight away when he noticed you holding the tube of ointment. “wait. let me put on my boxers first.”

“okaaay.”

you eagerly waited for him on the bench from the other side of the small room. he swiftly slid on a pair of black boxers and sat next to you, offering his arm for your therapeutic indulgence. ever since jungkook started getting his cover-ups done, you already made it part of your routine to apply the prescribed ointment on his healing tattoos throughout the day.

some people meditate, some people solve puzzles. you? you sit down and take your sweet time admiring the glorious pieces of art inked on your boyfriend’s skin.

“they’re so itchy. i want to scratch.” he spoke through gritted teeth as you applied a thin layer of the ointment on top of the tattoos on the outside of his forearm.

“i’m practically scratching them, you know?”

you cautiously swiped your fingers across his ‘RATHER BE DEAD THAN COOL’ and ‘MAKE HAY WHILE THE SUN SHINES’ tattoos, connected by the letter T like they were the answers to a crossword puzzle. they were enhanced by giving them colored shadows: the former’s is red, and the latter blue. and because the letter T completes both tattoos, they mixed the two colors and gave it a purple shadow. oh god, it scratches your brain just right every time you see them. you love yourself some color theory.

the ones on the inside are almost completely healed, you’ve been through the itchiness and peeling off phase with them already. it never gets easier no matter how many times he has experienced it, always complaining about the itchy phase being worse than the pain of getting poked with the needles.

“no, you’re not. you’re so gentle that i feel like i’m being tickled. it makes it worse.” he cried out in frustration, head falling on your shoulder as he fought the excruciating urge to scratch his skin.

“so you want me to be rough and infect you?”

“. . . no.” his awkward voice came out muffled against your neck. “it actually makes me feel nice. like, inside my heart. thank you.”

—

“are you happy now, baby?”

jungkook’s mellifluous voice steals your focus from the purple sweater you’re folding over the table. he towers over you with his naked muscular arms crossed infront of his chest— the ravishing view you’ve dearly missed makes your lips slowly curve into a shy smile.

gone is the melancholia that visibly weighed you down, replaced by an aura he can only describe as the sunrise, but even the sunrise would hang its head in shame if challenged by your beauty and grace.

dear god, he wants to spend the rest of his waking days making you happy and learning what it means to be alive from the look on your face.

“very much.” you loop your hands around his forearms, and with a playful roll of his eyes, he lets you pull his weight down to the couch.

“you folded the rest of the clothes? how are you so fast?”

you reward his tattooed shoulder with lingering kisses before caging his face in your hands to give his lips a rather chaste one.

“i did. that’s the last one.” you pout at the direction of the sweater.

being your boyfriend’s diligent self, he scoots forward to fold it, excited to tick off the task of folding laundry from his to-do list. you seize this opportunity to trace the blue ‘BulletProof’ under his elbow, still finding the font super cool despite seeing it almost (fuck winter) everyday. knowing this all too well, jungkook smiles at the feeling of your delicate fingers caressing his skin. it’s almost as if you’re scared you could possibly erase the ink needled under it.

after carrying each of your own pile of folded clothes to the closet, jungkook voices out the idea that popped in his mind when he was changing his top. “let’s watch rapunzel. i’m in the mood for a disney movie today.”

you fail to bottle up a giggle, finding his little mistake so heartwarmingly endearing. “sure. but babe, the movie is called tangled.”

his doe eyes widen comically as if he was struck by headlights in the middle of the night. “that’s what i said!”

you lightly pinch his nipple. “you liar!”

“. . . was that supposed to be a punishment?”

you blink. “yes.”

his mischievous smile tells you everything that you need to know. “i said tangled the first time! cross my heart!”

“not gonna work anymore.” you stick your tongue out playfully, picking up the octopus plushie beside you and turning it inside out to reveal its yellow smiling face.

it’s his turn to sigh dramatically today.

as he starts typing ‘tangled’ on the television using the remote control, he mumbles to himself. “it was a nice try.”

—

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2K notes · View notes

haet-sal · 1 year

Text

BBGG(bad boy good girl)/biker!Sunwoo x fem!reader SMUT

Tags: sunwoo smut, best friend!kevin, juyeon and q feature, Nicknames (good girl, baby, little princess, etc), SPIT IN MOUTH, P in V, DEGRADATION (calling you a whore), choking, sort of VERY ROUGH, unprotected, implied PAINAL

Porn with plot. Having freshly moved into the suburbs, you invite your neighbors for a Christmas party, being that they’re singles far away from family, too. You meet Sunwoo, and… sparks fly.

It’s not even really mentioned that sunwoo is such a bad boy... intro is long but it’s cozy holiday times!

w.c.: 4.7k

If you enjoy this please consider reading my other tbz fic, a juyeon smut

😛

The winters were getting dark and snow had begun to fall—you’d missed the first snows driving into town, and now, a week into the move, snow has become an annoying, filthy and incredibly proverbial thing that had lost its magic.

Your housemate, Kevin—and best friend who you’ve been rooming with since you moved out, but we don’t mention that—looks out the window, both hands clutching a warm mug of cocoa. “We should do something for Christmas,” he says. “Why did I go through designing the decorations of our amazing, spectacular, show-stopping, never-attempted-before Christmas tree, if we can’t have guests to show it to?”

“You said you design to please yourself, not others.”

“Well I take it back.” Kevin tuts as he looks outside at the window. “Let’s have a party.”

“You’re insane—”

“YOU BOUGHT ENOUGH CHAMPAGNE FOR 10 PEOPLE STOP HOGGING IT—”

So Kevin convinces you to go over to the neighbors and invite them for a neighborly new year’s party, held between new year’s and christmas, just for the hell of it, and also because he wants bitches to see his bitchin christmas tree. It’s ego issues, honestly.

Kevin could not convince you enough to invite more than one house, so you made a deal: he does the other houses, you go over to just the closest neighbors and then you go home. As you set off, both at the same time, you keep looking over your shoulder at Kevin, just to see how far along he was.

You arrive at the door of the house adjacent, a house entirely painted black. You knew that its garage was also a make-shift workshop, because you had seen many bikers with machine problems park there. They seemed to be a trusted mechanic too, because you saw the people were overly friendly—the neighborhood didn’t seem to like them, though, thinking they were an eyesore and a fright to their area, but that’s the more reason you rooted for the three boys that lived in the dark house.

After you’ve rung the bell, you wait. You wait, and you look over at Kevin, just to see he’d gone over two houses already. Seriously? Kevin’s ahead of you and the one house you gotta invite won’t even fucking open?

You kicked at the snow. “FUCK!” You’d thought no one would hear it, because the cold vacuum of the snowy town tricked you into thinking you were in space, but the door immediately opens, that cold, dead-jet-black door. A boy with white hair and a smile pops out. “Uh, hello?”

“Hi!” you say, blood rushing more and more to your face in the cold, and you felt the heat coming—maybe it’s from embarrassing yourself in front of these boys, actually—”I just moved into the other house—number 13?”

The boy at the door opens the door wider so his roommates could see you, and you take their appearances in: one guy, standing close to the door, had these catlike eyes that bore into your soul. He wanted to know what you wanted, too. And meanwhile, the guy farthest from you, with thick fluffy hair and thick lips, stood on the stairway and stared you down. The boys looked barely interested, or at least they feigned it, with the guy with the intense stare zeroing on you. The guy that opened the door, though, tried to smile at you.

“Um, we were thinking of having a new year’s party, later this week, on Sunday? It’d be really nice if you could come—if you don’t already have plans. I’m Y/n—”

“Changmin!” The guy holding the door open introduces himself. “That’s Juyeon and Sunwoo. Is that all? New Year’s party?”

“Y-yeah, and—it’s on the 29th,” you say. “Between Christmas and New Year’s, the perfect date, isn’t it?”

“That’s nice! That’s for inviting us,” says Changmin. “Is that all?”

Damn, they really wanted you out of their hair, huh? You just nod, absentmindedly—dissociating because it was the only thing going to save you now—”Uh-huh. Yeah. So, well, see ya!”

When you came home Kevin was still inviting every house in the neighborhood, going door to door. You wait patiently for him, listing all the things you were going to say to him. No one’s coming to the party, you stupid slut. There’s not even going to be a party. But when he comes back he looks too excited you didn’t want to burst his bubble.

“Easily done,” Kevin says, as he shakes snow off his boots. “Those guys in that house—one of them’s in law school. What are your guys like?”

You shrugged. “Weren’t very talkative. I doubt they’ll even show up.”

“I invited the house in front of ours, too, but there’s a whole, like, little toddler there and I don't think we can count them in,” Kevin says. “We’re not exactly a child-safe environment—”

You hit his arm. “Of course we are! This party won’t be rated more than PG13, for the champagne drinking.”

“Is this what we’re really doing? Really?” You pull your velvet skirt down to cover the gap between your thighs and the skirt, but it just reveals more skin on your midriff. You and Kevin are in matching blue velvet.

“We’re matching velvet twins!” Kevin announces in joy. “Fuck. I’m getting static-zaps.”

“We look like the twins from the Shining.”

“You look killer,” Kevin reassures, trying to hype you up, but you simply rolled your eyes. “Kev… no one’s even going to show up.”

“Ah, but you’re waiting for no one to show up, so you get to keep all the liquor to yourself!” (It’s actually pathetic. He went and bought other kinds of booze, for ‘cocktail making’. Does Kevin even know how to make cocktails? NO!)

Surprisingly, your guys—the guys from the black house with the workshop garage—are the earlier ones to show up, and now it’s just the five of you, and you welcome them in, giving them appetizer plates. Kevin’s ecstatic, and wants to get to know them, but the biker boys were rather quiet.

The next guests to arrive were from house number 15, three boys, who introduced each other: Sangyeon, Haknyeon, and Jacob. Sangyeon and Haknyeon were the law school kids Kevin had been talking about, and Jacob was a photographer of some sorts, you didn’t ask further—although they had been eager to talk. You took a liking to Haknyeon, and as you served him appetizers, you broke into conversation.

“I really thought you’d invited more than these people,” Haknyeon says with a frown. You’re suddenly curious.

“Huh? You mean your housemates and the guys from number 11?”

Haknyeon leaned into you as he gave a side-eyed look at the other table. “Those guys are…” He hesitates, before he says: “trouble. Basically criminals.”

You frowned. It’s not like you could just tell Haknyeon ‘don’t be a snob,’ you didn’t even know him. Plus, if those guys actually were bad news, you didn’t want to start a feud with them, especially when they lived so close. So you force a smile. “Uh Huh! Well, the more the merrier—it’s Christmas, it’s time for… forgiveness?”

But Haknyeon looked over your shoulder at the arriving guests, all dressed in black, with a peculiarly mean set of eyes. You sighed. This was going to be a long night.

“Why are the two houses staring each other down?” Kevin whispered into your ear as you two were setting the table for dinner.

“You awakened a life-long feud between scholars and biker gangs,” you answered. “I told you the party was a bad idea.”

Kevin rolled his eyes at you, and well, you deserved it, you needed to stop shittalking a party that was already going on.

Kevin sets his Masterchef-style cooking onto the table, introduces the dishes—some of them french, some of them asian—and everyone starts to eat. And it’s silent in the dining room, because neither group wants to talk to the other.

Each of Haknyeon’s group compliments Kevin’s cooking, but only Changmin steps out from the bikers’ group to say the same. Kevin gracefully accepts the compliments.

It’s only when the drinks are served after dinner, and everyone was allowed to lounge around the living room, that the room didn’t feel so suffocating anymore.

Juyeon was the one to approach you, talking about Christmas and a book he read and something or the other, you don’t really remember. His conversation had been completely overshadowed by how his friend was watching you, from the corner near the fireplace.

Sunwoo, was it? Thick dark hair and kissable lips.

You thought Juyeon was the one with the killer stare, but damn, Sunwoo. If looks could kill…

If looks could undress. You knew what he was doing right now, a man only stares that long and that deep if he wants to fuck you. He’s watching you, only because he’s imagining you underneath him, making the ‘o’ face, crying out his name… he’s imagining what it’s like to have his cock buried deep, deep in you. The warmth of it, especially since the weather was so cold. Tis the season.

Somehow, you didn’t mind it.

You only hold Sunwoo’s stare for a bit, before you’re going around the party talking to Haknyeon, Sangyeon, even Juyeon, who seems to want to talk to you so badly that he keeps following you around and joining in on the conversations. But whenever you look across the room, he’s still staring at you, still there, ignoring everything else and just sipping his champagne slowly. You start to notice after a couple times how thick and sweet his lips looked, how sharp his jaw was, everything.

Being the only girl in the party, it’s not unexpected that most of the six guests you have over try to talk to you, each cutting in one after another, like taking a dance card from you. And yet… Sunwoo hadn’t come over at all. He bides his time. He even talks to Kevin. But somehow it clicked for you that this had to happen, you had to talk to Sunwoo.

You finally approached him, at his little corner with his refilled liquor, because you concluded he was never going to come over to where you sat. Tiptoeing up to him in your tight little stockings, you catch eye contact, his eagerly finding yours, and you say: “hiiii. Sunwoo, right?”

“Mmm.” He just nods. Although the reply was lackluster, you knew he wanted you; his stare said everything.

“Y/n,” you told him.

“Heard it when you invited us.” He sets his drink down on one of Kevin’s boxes he hadn’t put away properly, and Sunwoo turns to you anew, not at all smiling but with a newfound interest.

He’s checking you out. A fool could be able to tell. As he takes you in, little velvet dress and the way your tight leggings hugged your body, he finally manages to smile at you.

It’s a lop-sided smirk. The last-laugh kind of smile, charming, heartstring-playing, impossibly good-looking smile.

You refill a new glass and hand him one, clinking glasses with him.

“Listen,” Sunwoo murmurs to you over the bubbling champagne, “I can take you right back to my house, right now, and show you my bike collection—I have a full garage, if you want to see?”

You nodded, feet already picking you up to go. You don’t even know if you actually expect for there to be bikes–and, also, what if Haknyeon’s right and all of Sunwoo’s riches had criminal sponsorings?

You didn’t give a fuck. You feel hypnotized, you hear nothing but him. “I can show you… more than that, too.” His hand snaked over to your waist, fingers conveniently tucking themselves under your bra, and resting in that tight space.

You’re starting to walk away with him, your hand in his, and you were already halfway out the door when Kevin pulls you back.

“I’m going to see the bikes,” you say.

“No, you’re not.”

“Kev—”

“y/n, you are not going off to fuck a guest, whom we have over, while we literally have other guests over we have to entertain,” Kevin says to you slowly, which you were thankful for as you didn’t think you could handle a spitfire speech. You nodded slowly.

“And,” Kevin says, “you’re champagne drunk.” Pulling you back into the house, he shoots a look at Sunwoo. “Don’t be that guy, man. Try seeing if you actually still want her tomorrow.”

Your skirt is so fluffy and cute, and it barely covers your ass. Thankfully, you’re wearing stockings. You hugged your white sweater to your body, the all-white color coding worked as a look but it was still cold.

When you rang the doorbell, you’re expecting the same old as before: it would take a long while until someone comes, you thought. And well, you hate to be right. There was about a full minute where no one came, and the second stretched as you were withstanding the horrible cold. You rang the bell another time, and out comes Juyeon.

He shoots a sultry smile at you. “Heeeey. What’s your name again, Y/n, was it?”

“Uhhuh!” You hop into the warmth of their home. “Is Sunwoo here?”

Juyeon faltered. “Uh. Uh… yeah… first door upstairs.”

That’s strange, because the first door upstairs is the one right next to the window of your room… you wondered if he ever saw you, undressing or something or the other, silhouetted by the curtains.

“Juyeon hyung?” you heard Sunwoo call out, “did you get the door?”

What could he be doing that he couldn’t get the door? When you opened it, he had his headphones on. His room smelled like Dior Men, and was actually tidy enough that it surprised you. The blinds were shut, and he was just sitting in a lamp light.

“Oh,” Sunwoo says, “it’s you.” You wondered if he still remembers your name or if it had slipped away with the effects of the champagne. Not so drunk anymore, he doesn’t fix lustful eyes at you and expect you to bend to his will. Instead, he looks… soft. But still there’s insane chemistry here, you just had to get into his bed and have him rearrange your organs from the inside.

Standing up from his chair, Sunwoo comes over to the bed, inviting you closer with a hand gesture. You inched closer.

“So,” Sunwoo says, “it’s the tomorrow your friend was talking about.”

You cocked an eyebrow. “And you still want me?”

“Baby,” Sunwoo breaths out, his lips barely moving as he said it–it was just a moan and a breath at the same time—”I want you, so fucking bad.” Maybe he was saying ‘baby’ because he couldn’t remember your name.

You take a step forwards to him, and he catches you, basically seizes you so you’re in the air with just his arms supporting you, and makes you kneel on the bed, pretty bowed stocking bending at the knee.

You’re kissing Sunwoo. He tastes like cigarettes, but also just… like him. Something bitter and addicting, like dark chocolate. Slowly, you see that his hands are inching up your pantyhose, and soon he reaches the garter, holding your stockings up. His hands kept wandering, trailing down between where the skin was exposed between the ribbons. As if he were dying for a feeling of your skin, and there was just so little of it, he was drowning in this sea of not-feeling-skin.

You know you look good, because Sunwoo can’t stop looking at you, not even just at your face—at your whole body. The way you’ve dressed makes you look like you came straight out of a holiday card… or, well, a holiday playboy shoot.

Not to mention the fact that you’re kneeled between his legs on the bed, like a pretty little doll.

Sunwoo positions you so you’re sitting, looking at him with your back against the headboard, and now he’s hiked your skirt up and spread your legs, looking inside as if it hid something so fine and precious…

Your pantyhose and garter are white, but, clearly, under the white lace, he sees your red panties, innocent but sultry. You’d taken care in dressing yourself today, not even with Kevin’s help. You were just happy you looked like any guy’s Christmas sexual fantasy right now.

Sunwoo notices the Christmas color-coding, of course. “Tis the season,” he says under his breath, and before you could protest he’s ripped the stockings apart like it’s a Christmas present he’s been waiting forever to open. You whined out, a long, emotional whine, and he chuckled.

“I’ll buy you new ones,” he says. His head was already buried in the soft supple skin of your thighs that the torn stockings exposed, as he continued: “def—” kiss—”fin—”kiss” —nite–ly.” To punctuate his sentence, he bites down on the skin, but once you try to move away because it hurts, he simply sucked a hickey onto it. “Cute,” he tells you. He’s feeling you up over your panties, maybe just to check if you were wet—you were, but not enough that it might soak through.

“I want you to think of me,” Sunwoo says. “Think of what you want me to do to you, and then we’ll start, okay? Lemme just get you nice and wet…” He kissed your neck with so much force you’re falling backwards into the mattress, and that had been his intention. While he kissed, the hand on your panties had moved them to the side and was now teasing your wet slit.

“I want—” you gasped as he nibbled on the skin, soft but sharp bites, “I want you to fuck me.”

You can feel Sunwoo smiling against your collarbone, but you can’t see him; your eyes are scrunched closed just feeling what he was doing to you, hands on body, body on body. One of his hands was now under your little sweater crop top, holding you steady but also touching you… in the most right way that got your knees weak.

“Is that it?” he says. “How do you want me to fuck you?”

“I—ngh—”He’s sucking love bites onto your clavicle. “No, like, I want you to fuck me, I want it, hard,” you say, emphasizing the vulgarity. “I think you’re the only one that can do me so rough I cry. I want to be bruised, Sunwoo.”

You only hear Sunwoo laugh; a dry chuckle, and he’s off your skin, at least his mouth was—he’s pulled back, and you look up, just to see what he’s doing—and he’s concentrated, both hands flying to your panties—

It rips under the force of his arms, you can just see the biceps flexing as he tears them to each side. With a loud sound. The panties were limited edition, holiday patterns, ugh, but you’re about to get the greatest fuck of your life so you don’t even care anymore.

Sunwoo is silent for a moment, looking at your pretty little slit that glistens for him, and he wets his fingers before he puts them in you, two fingers, slow and tortuous finger-fucking you. You love the pornographic imagery of his two long fingers… sliding in and out.

“Mmm,” Sunwoo goes, lips pursed together as he concentrates on the feeling of you. “This isn’t going to bruise you at this rate—beg me, properly. Beg me to bruise your pretty little cunt up.”

You clench around his fingers, hoping they’ll stay in and curl up to hit you in the right spot, but it’s not enough. “I—I want to you fuck me, please!”

“Mm, not even close to good enough.”

“I want you to bruise my pussy,” you say, basically a declaration, “I want you to hurt me, I need to feel pleasure from how hard your cock is tearing my little pussy up.”

Sunwoo just cocked his head to ask for more, but you feel the fingers going faster now.

“I want you to put your hands around my neck—leave it purple and blue, the way you bite love marks on me–I want you to mark me up, please, sir.”

Sunwoo breaks into a smile. “Good girl. You know to call me that, huh?”

He retracts his fingers from your pussy; you realize it had just been for show, he didn’t intend to fuck you this way.

Sunwoo pulls off his shirt, heated in the moment, and his sweatpants are lowered, and he takes himself out of his boxers. As he readies to put it in you, kneeled at your feet, he puts the wet fingers into your mouth. “Suck,” he commanded, and you went to work, tongue salaciously wrapping around his digits. It’s his spit, yours, and your slickness, all together. So lewd and dirty but hot. You realize now you like bad boys and rough fucks.

Sunwoo palmed himself getting himself ready to fuck you, “No condom,” he says. “You don’t care, do you?”

You shook your head—you should, really, but… in the moment it didn’t matter at all. Plus, you were busy sucking his fingers, cross-eyed like a hentai drawing. You wanted whatever he did to you.

Your sweater is cropped and low-necked that it gave him easy access to under your bra and your clavicle, but now it wasn’t good enough, so Sunwoo lifts the synthetic wool up, throws it over his shoulder across the room, and next he’s unhooking your bra with one hand, while the other supports him so he could tower over you with those intense eyes, lust written all over them.

Once you’re bra-free, he plays with your nipples, wetting them with his mouth and then rubbing it between his fingers until it hardens. You could feel the whole act getting him hotter and harder inside you.

You reach for your skirt, hooking your hand around the zip so you could slip it off you, but Sunwoo stops you with his hand, basically batting it away. In doing this, he grabs your hand and pins it to the side of your head.

“No, fuck,” Sunwoo cursed, “keep your little skirt on. I’m gonna fuck you like you’re a whore I don’t even want to take the time to enjoy.” It turns you on more than you could say, so you press your thighs together, mewling, and of course, he’s between your thighs, so you’re wrapping them around him. “Plus,” Sunwoo adds, “you look so cute in the fluffy little skirt.”

“I knew you’d like it,” you cooed through moans. “I wanna be your little doll, Sunwoo.”

“Fuck,” Sunwoo hisses, truly hisses, like he’s been burnt or something. “Fuuuck. Fuck you.”

You close your eyes and let him fuck you into the mattress, and you’re jumping up with every thrust from how powerful it is.

You arch your back and moan. Truly, Sunwoo must be trying to bruise your pussy, because he’s thrusting so rough and fast. Again and again, you’re crashing into each other, bones and all, and he’s just so hot and hard. You were going to be sore for days, you loved it.

“You got me—thinking of you the whole night, and all of today.” His voice would flatten out into hisses whenever he felt you all tight and warm around him, and the feeling goes to his brain rendering him unable to form words. But he continues: “I’ve been wanting to fuck you, you know that, princess? You’re a tease for keeping me waiting—yeah, you like being a tease?” He spits in your face, and you flinch. You see his bared teeth and sharp canines that have been biting you all day. “Been—thinking–of–ruining your little pussy–fuck—since last night.”

As the thrusts get more powerful, your hands rush to his shoulders to just hold onto something, and your hands fall at his biceps, nails sinking in. You gasp in pleasure, again and again, and it’s going to your head that you don’t even know how to speak, how to request anything anymore. What you do, is bring your slender fingers to your cunt, and rub your clit, just to ease the tension you felt there.

Sunwoo scoffs a small laugh. “You’re gonna be the type of slut that rubs herself while getting fucked?” He shoves your hand away, and you’re too fucked-out to say anything back. “Leave that to me,” he says breathily. “Let sir make you cum, okay?”

Now you’re getting pounded in your g-spot and having your little clit played with, you felt like screaming, but you bit down on your tongue, only letting little tortured gasps slip past your lips.

“Sunwoo,” is what you start off with when you can’t hold the sounds in any longer. “Sunwoo, Sunwoo, S—” You’re screaming, a teeth-gritted, muscles-tensed scream, hands grabbing his sheets in your fists. Sunwoo keeps rubbing your little clit, each roll on the pads of his thumb making you clench around him.

“F-fuck, you’re tight,” he swears. “Fuck, I think I’m close.”

Wordlessly, you let Sunwoo keep his fast paced thrusts into you, and every time he’s so deeply inside you, you know you’re closer than ever. It takes him to falter in pace, trembling in his knees because it was just too good, for you to finally release, pussy clenched around his cock. And Sunwoo rests for a moment, just to feel your walls spasm around him.

He’s overwhelmed by the lust, but he’s not tired. Once you’re done, he goes again, and you’re overstimulated at his point, especially from the way he’s flicking your little clit, but you don’t tell him to stop. You take everything like a good little girl.

“Where do you want my cum, hmm?” Sunwoo rasps, his deep voice hot against your ears. “Tell me, little princess.”

“Not in me!” you moaned out. “Please, outside—outside, on my thighs, on my stomach—!”

With a groan, Sunwoo pulls out, cock leaking already, and spills all over your stomach. For a while, all you hear are his tortured little groans—he wouldn’t make any sound louder than that, suppressing himself—and all you feel is him, even if his cock wasn’t exactly in you anymore.

Sunwoo gathers himself for a while, hovering over you with just his arms holding him up, You see beads of sweat form around his forehead, and his bottom lip is caught between his teeth, as he bites down to control the rest of him.

Before you can ask what he wants to do next, he grabs your shoulders, turning you around on your stomach. You like him when he handles you like a ragdoll, so you plop down without resistance.

“I wanna try that pretty little ass.” Sunwoo’s fingers are now buried in your hair, and he grabs a fistful just to yank it back. You gasp with the pain, but then, this is what you wanted, and it hurts so good.

He bunches up pieces of your ripped stockings and your ripped panties, and shoves them into your mouth, rather harshly and carelessly, just to make sure they go past your teeth. It’s uncomfortable and it smells like your skin, but you do everything he tells you.

“Bite down,” he ordered, “it might be a little painful.” You brace yourself, and you’re biting down, canines against cloth, before the pain even comes. And it does come.

Out in the garage, Changmin stands with a customer who had a bike problem. They’d been fidgeting with the tools for a while, standing around and starting the engines again. Suddenly the customer erects his head, looking around. “Did you hear that?” he asks. “It sounds like someone’s crying.”

“Oh, it's just the house wailing when northern winds blow,” Changmin says. “This time I think the neighbors’ house is doing it, too.”

#the boyz smut #the boyz x reader #sunwoo smut #sunwoo scenarios #the boyz imagines #sunwoo x reader #the boyz scenarios #the boyz hard hours #tbz hard hours #tbz scenarios #tbz x reader #tbz smut #tbz imagines

1K notes · View notes

rawritzrobin · 1 year

Text

Brooding Alpha

Characters: Derek Hale, Stilinski!Twin, Scott McCall, Stiles Silinski

Pairings: Derek Hale x Stilinski!Twin Reader

Summary: You already had a brother and dad who treated you like a baby. You didn’t need a boyfriend who did as well.

Series Masterlist

Warnings: None! Unless you count an overprotective wolf.

A/N: Winter break is here. :D Have some angst, with a happy ending.

“I can take care of myself Derek. You don’t always have to treat me like a porcelain doll.” Your eyebrow twitched in annoyance.

“Babe, there’s a group of alphas out for blood. It’s clear they have some vendetta against me. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have gone after my betas. They want to hurt me and the easiest way is through you.”

“They’re not going to do something in broad daylight! I can’t just skip school and stay here so you can watch all day like a little puppy.”

You were in Derek’s loft, waiting for Stiles to pick you up. Instead of going to Heather’s party, you decided you wanted to keep Derek and Isaac company for the night. You had grown to love Isaac like a third brother, Scott being number 2. It hurt to see him so scared.

You told Stiles you didn’t want to go to Heather’s party because you and Isaac had to work on a school project together. He was too busy thinking about Heather to care whether or not you were attending. You were hoping for a relaxing night with Derek and Isaac. Maybe a movie and some cuddles with your Alpha. That wasn’t the case.

“Besides, Scott and Stiles are with me 24/7. Isaac too! And you forget that Alison comes from a family of trained hunters! Also, my dad is still the sheriff!” You emphasized the last sentence by raising your hands up high and huffed in annoyance. You were sick of everyone around you treating you like a baby. Stiles and your dad were already so overprotective of you. You didn’t need another man in your life who saw you as a weak damsel in distress.

“You know I don’t think that Y/N/N. I just want to make sure you’re safe. And the safest place is here with me at the loft, not at school with a pair of twin alphas!”

“No means no Derek. I’m not staying here.” You said before storming out of the loft. Derek wasted no time chasing after you. Isaac stayed out of your lover's spat. Lucky him.

“Where are you going?” He asked with a hint of anger and annoyance in his voice.

“Stiles should be here soon. Or do you not trust me walking down the stairs to the entrance by myself? Do I need a big strong man to walk me to my brother's car too?” You said, not bothering to turn around.

“Y/N! Listen to yourself…”

“I am Derek. And unlike you I trust that I can take care of myself.” You spat back at him. A part of you knew he was just being a good boyfriend that was concerned about his girlfriend’s well being, but you were too angry at the moment to think logically.

“Don’t come by tonight.” You tried to say angrily. It only came out kind of sad.

Derek stopped in his tracks. Derek stopped by almost every night ever since he stayed over that first night. It was nice, for the both of you to have someone on those lonely nights. It had become a kind of routine for you both. Comfort when you both needed it.

You didn’t turn around to see his reaction. You pushed open the front door of the building, just in time to see the blue Jeep pull up. You quickly wiped the tears from your eyes and faked a smile.

“How was the party?” You asked as you quickly jumped in.

Stiles sighed in annoyance. “Don’t want to talk about it.” He said.

Bummer. Looks like we both had a rough night.

“Hey, let's stop by the movie rental place and grab a movie and some snacks?” You asked, placing a hand on his shoulder. Stiles looked down at you and his eyes softened. It had been a while since you two spent some time together. Well some time together that didn’t involve a supernatural being. He kind of missed it. Though he would never outright tell you.

“Only if I get to pick the movie.”

You laughed. “Okay fine. But I get to pick the snacks!”

“Deal!” He said loudly and started making his way to the movie store.

*****

After watching Stiles’ horrible not so scary movie and eating your weight in ice cream and chips, you two said your goodnights, and went to bed. You kept looking at your window, part of you expecting Derek to still show up tonight. You watched the time go by in silence, sleep never catching you once.

1 AM became 2. 2 became 3. You sighed in annoyance when the clock finally hit 3:30. You don’t know what you were expecting. You told him not to come. Why would he come? You were the one who wanted to prove you were capable of taking care of yourself anyways. You didn’t need him to hold you to sleep. You have been sleeping by yourself for years now.

You finally turned off your desk lamp and plopped your head onto your pillow. Sleep didn’t come easy that night. But you finally gave in eventually.

What you didn’t know was that there was a certain someone waiting in the woods that night. Derek sat himself against one of the large trees near your neighbors yard and waited until your night turned off before sulking off back to his loft. He wanted to apologize, but he was afraid of what you would do if he showed up when you specifically asked him not to. He knew how you were sometimes. You just needed some time to cool off.

You didn’t wake up to a good morning text that morning.

You laid in bed a little longer than usual. Stiles had to knock on your door to ask if you were ready before you pushed yourself off of your bed. Part of you just wanted to skip school and go straight to Derek’s loft and apologize. He was right to some degree. You weren’t going to give up and stay at his loft all day. But you did need to stop sneaking out at night and away from the pack.

School went by in a blur. Stiles and Scott could tell there was something off about you. You hadn’t said a word all day and wasn’t actually glued to your phone for once.

“Everything okay?” Scott asked. Scott was one of the ones who knew about you and Derek. It was really hard to hide the fact that you always smelled like him. He had his suspicions, and confirmed his suspicions when he walked in on you kissing Derek the night you two rescued him from Kate.

“It’s nothing. Derek and I had a fight last night.” Stiles ran off to the library to do some research on something. It was just you and Isaac so it was a safe place for you and Scott to talk about Derek.

“Just so you know, Derek wasn’t all too happy this morning either Y/N.”

You just sank into your chair further. You shouldn’t have said what you said last night.

“Scott, I found it!” Stiles screamed, jumping onto the back of you and Scott. Clearly not sensing the mood around him. “Oh and Y/N, can you hitch a ride with Lydia after school today? I have to stay late today for detention.”

“Ugh Stiles. What did you do this time?”

“I had to borrow some books from a certain teacher’s collection. It happened to be locked in his desk and someone happened to catch me. But I found the info we need!”

Great. You thought to yourself. You knew Lydia didn’t drive today and that she had a date with Jackson after school.

“I can take you.” Isaac offered. You smiled. You loved Isaac. He was the closest thing to Derek you had right now.

After school Isaac and Scott walked with you to the parking lot. You were too distracted all day to realize Isaac didn’t have a car. Before you could say anything, you saw a very familiar black Camero sitting in the back of the parking lot. You looked up and glared at Isaac, fully aware of his scheme now.

“I can’t stand it when you and Derek fight. I have to deal with his moody self at home, and then your moody self at school. It’s too much brooding for me.”

You tried to turn around in the other direction, but Isaac quickly grabbed your shoulder before you could turn.

“Common. He’s just giving us a lift home.” He said pushing you forward. Scott opened the door for you and you stepped in, avoiding eye contact with Derek. You could feel his eyes on you though.

“Hey Isaac don’t we have that history project we need to work on?” Scott said suddenly.

“Oh I forgot about that! You go along first Y/N. Stiles can take me home when he's done with detention.” He said quickly, closing the door behind you. You huffed in annoyance and crossed your arms around your chest, frowning through the window. You tried your best to glare at the two boys walking away from the car, but to no avail.

“Y/N.” Derek said sadly.

You didn’t look at him, you crossed your arms tighter and turned away. You were still angry at the boys for tricking you.

“Y/N, i'm sorry. I-I shouldn’t have suggested that you couldn’t take care of yourself. Hell the one of the reasons I fell in love with you was because of the way you were able to handle yourself with those hunters that night. I know you’re strong enough to protect yourself. But I just.. Don’t want anything to happen to you because of me.” He said sadly.

You slowly looked in his direction. His hands were slumped to his side, and he held his head down. You noticed some dark bags under his eyes. You didn’t even know werewolves could get bags under their eyes. He looked like he hadn’t slept a wink last night. You were starting to feel guilty.

“I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you.” He said in a whisper.

Derek couldn’t look up at you. He felt so guilty. Everything he said last night was just his strange way of wanting to keep you safe. He didn’t sleep at all. He kept trying to think of ways to apologize to you. Thank god Isaac texted him when he did. He wasted no time getting here.

“Der.” You said, quietly.

Derek looked up at you with his big puppy dog eyes. You smiled at him and placed your hand on his thigh. He took your hand in his.

“I’m not going anywhere.” You said giving his hand a light squeeze. “You need to trust me though. I'm not just some stupid high schooler who goes looking for trouble.”

Derek raised his eyebrows at that one.

“Okay I am. But you also have to trust that I know what I’m doing and that I have a circle that is capable of keeping me safe. Let’s also not forget that my dad is the sheriff of the town and he made me take at least 50 self defense classes when I was little.” You said with a smirk.

“Okay fine. But only because I know Isaac, Erica, and Boyd are always with you. When I’m not around.”

“What about Stiles and Scott?”

Derek laughed. You chuckled too after realizing what you said. You leaned back into your chair and relaxed, never letting go of his hand.

“Let’s say we go home yeah? Well, your home. My dad might shoot you on sight if you show up at our place during the day.”

Derek laughed and quickly drove you two back to his place.

Later that night, Isaac walked in on you two cuddling and laughing on Derek’s couch. You gave him a thankful smile when he walked past you two.

He walked away smiling as well. It was always good to see papa and mama wolf in a good mood.

#Derek Hale x reader #Derek hale x y/n #teen wolf #derek hale #stiles stilinski #Teen Wolf x Reader #Derek Hale x You #Derek x Reader #Derek Hale Imagine #Derek Hale One Shot #Teen Wolf Fanfiction #stilinski!twin #iwritethings

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97keanu · 5 months

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winter-themed phone sex w/ Dave Lizewski? like, y/n and Dave had plans to see each other but then a snowstorm hits and both of them are stuck in their own houses, so they have phone sex?

*˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳WAIT I LOVE THIS ONE!!! A few years of a LDR has me basing this one on some experience... 🤭

. ｡✩Tags/CW: dave and reader college au, boyfriend!Dave, circa 2010s vibes, skype s*x, mutual m*sturbation, dirty talk, I think usually Dave is a sub but today I'm feeling surprising dom!Dave(oh the confidence you can find behind a screen...), belt kink, talk of spanking/choking/slapping, semi aggressive talk, d*ldo use, cozy end.

"So, I'll see you tonight after your last class?" Dave asks, pushing his glasses up and leaning against the wall near you to try to ask suave.

You've both just exited your last shared class of the day. You reach up and pull his hat down over his ears, knowing he's going out in that cold weather today. It's been freezing, but no sign of anything else.

"Yes! I'll be headed over to your dorm soon as my night class is done." You smile, fixing your own cold weather garments before leaning in to sneak a quick kiss.

Dave's eyes flutter behind his glasses as you kiss him, practically melting into your lips. He knows it's kind of embarrassing to kiss in front of all the other students trying to get out of their own for the day, but he also kind of likes than everyone can see someone as gorgeous as you being the one to kiss him.

You give his hand one last squeeze and head off so you aren't late to your next class.

You're checking the clock over and over, practically aching to get out of class. Night has set so early as it does in December, and from your seat by the window, you can see the flurries of snow getting larger. Everyone is rushing, packing up quickly to try to beat the snow, but by the time you get outside, there's already more than a few inches.

You fight against a wicked wind that blinds you in a cloud of white as you try to get to your car. Your cheeks burn red from the cold, and you quickly brush off as much of the heavy blanket of snow on your car as you can before it starts to fill up with white again.

You weren't one to keep an eye on the weather, but when you finally hop into your car, you check your texts, seeing a million from Dave asking if your class was cancelled or not. You crank the heat of your car and wait for it to warm up, taking a moment to call your boyfriend.

"Babe! All you alright? Should I call a snow plow to come save you?" Dave's voice is half alarmed, half joking when he answers.

"No, no, I'm fine!" You laugh and assure him, knowing your big truck has four wheel drive and you're not unused to this weather. "But I'm not sure I can make it over tonight..."

"I totally understand..." Dave says, despite the pouting tone in his voice. "But I'll miss you..."

"I feel the same way," you say, leaning against your foggy car window. "Maybe I can make it up to you later this weekend if the snow clears."

"Yeah," Dave says with a sigh, then begins again as if he's had an idea. "Well, hey! Maybe we could try out having one of those virtual dates if you can't physically come!"

"Oh really? And what does that entail?"You laugh, not someone who's super tech savvy yourself for these things.

"W-Well," Dave says nervously, unsure it this would interest you. "We could each set up a little dinner in front of a Skype call and watch each other through our webcams? Maybe watch a movie together if we hit play at the same time?"

You think for a moment. It actually doesn't sound like a bad idea, and it's not like you really have much to do when you get home either besides maybe study and bundle up from the cold.

"That actually sounds really sweet..." You say with a smile into the phone. "I'm going to drive home, but you get it all set up for when I get there!"

"You got it!" You can tell just by his voice how excited Dave is.

. ｡✩

You finally arrive home, taking twice the time as usual from the low visibility and your cautious driving. You're lucky to have made it, there were a few cars on the side of the road having had swerved and gotten stuck in sudden snow banks. You pound your boots on the entrance mat, trying to get as much snow off them as possible. You shake a flurry off white off your body and peel yourself from your scarf, hat, and coat.

Finally, you're free, taking the time to send Dave a text about your arrival and your plan to make dinner then meet him for your Skype date.

You settle upstairs with a big mug of cocoa and a few slices of left over pizza finally, and get set up in front of your computer. The good news about dating Dave was that he had helped you completely outfit and build a PC that could do just about anything, despite the fact that you only really use it for school, YouTube, and the occasional minecraft server with him. He also had a webcam installed so that you could take your online classes as well, or give him a call if you felt the need.

You strip down to just a big comfy sweater and a pair of lacy red panties, happy that the webcam only sees your upper half. You made sure to turn up the heat in your apartment, so with the vent beneath the desk, you feel perfectly cozy after a rough time in the treacherous snow.

You quickly figure out how to use Skype once more, and before you know it, Dave appears on your screen. He's in his dorm room, outfitted with only the most prestigious nerdy memorabilia on the walls and shelves behind him. He looks more than happy to see you, giving a big smile.

"It worked! Awesome! You ready for our dinner date, babe?" His voice comes through your headphones, and for a moment, a chill runs down your spine as you remember how sexy you find it.

"Of course," you say with a smile and raise your plate and mug to the camera.

Dave does the same, showing a can of Coke and a bowl of Mac and Cheese. Then he pauses as if he forgot to mention something.

"Oh! Of course, our dinner wouldn't be a date if it wasn't candle lit!" He pulls a tiny candle into frame, its small light flickering on the screen.

You laugh, finding the effort a tad romantic, and mainly happy to still be able to spend some time with him.

"So, I picked out one of your favorite movies for us to watch. I'll send you a link!" He works something on his keyboard and screen and you wonder if he really knows you well enough to find a favorite of yours.

You click the link he sends and audibly squeal.

"What! I love The Princess Bride! How did you find it?" You hadn't seen it on any streaming service in so long, so you were surprised he could pull it up with ease.

"I have my ways..." Dave says with a small blush then pressing his glasses back up once again.

The two of you chat about your day, you telling him about the wicked snow storm, and how you barely made it home. He tells you about his latest comic he's been reading, and you enjoy hearing his interest in things he's passionate about. Your mug of cocoa warms your hands and you find your little date to be not quite as good as just being together, but the next best thing.

Eventually, you two start the movie by counting down and pressing play at the same time. You get comfortable, and find yourself loving this time together while the wind rages on outside your bedroom windows.

About half way through the movie, you get up to grab a pillow from your bed to get comfortable with, and forget that the camera can see much more than it did before when you walk away from it. You hear Dave's breath catch in your headphones.

"What?" You laugh, still bending over your bed to grab your pillow, ass now completely void of any sweater coverage.

"I-um..." Dave clears his throat nervously, then tries to be a bit suave. "I didn't know you would have worn those to see me tonight, they look good on you..."

Your body freezes and you turn to the camera, where your lingerie is overly apparent. You're not sure if you should be embarrassed or not! Dave is your boyfriend, so of course he's seen you naked before, but something about the fact that it's on camera has you pulling your sweater down and heat in your cheeks.

"Aw, c'mon, you don't have to hide it..." Dave continues, his nerdy voice obviously entranced by your form.

You carefully get back in your seat, not showing anything uncouth anymore.

"Oh my god..." Your face is so red, you wish he couldn't see it right now. "I can't believe I flashed you like that, I'm sorry, I forgot how much this thing can see."

"Hey...I think it's kind of hot that I can see you like that, even when you're far away..." Dave smirks and you have to admit, the thought is starting to turn you on too.

You decide to toy with him, leaning back in your office chair so he can just barely see your thighs. You watch as Dave leans closer to the screen, obviously entranced by your figure. You lift your sweater ever so delicately, slowly revealing those panties that made him so interested in the first place.

"Like this?" You ask coyly, as if you're completely innocent as to what you're doing.

"Y-yes." Dave stammers out, and you think his glasses will practically fog up from how red his cheeks are getting.

"If you want to see more," you say with a smirk playing on your lips. "I think it's only fair I see some of you..."

You didn't think it was possible, but Dave's blush deepens even more. He pulls back a bit from the screen and tries to laugh it off how worked up he is right now.

"O-oh! I mean, I uh..." Dave's hand reaches back and gives his dark curls a toss. "If that's, wh-what you want..."

"Now who's the one being shy?" You say, raising an eyebrow and letting your sweater drop back onto your thighs in protest.

Dave tries to come up with answer to that one, and fails. He clearly wants to see more from you, however, and he repostions his webcam so you can see more of his body. Particually, his lap. Through his jeans, you can see just how hard you've made him with so little. You love how easy it is to rile him up like this.

"Sh-should I do a little striptease for you?" He jokes, but you think that's actually not a half bad idea.

"Maybe...at least take it off slowly..." You reply.

Dave begins to lift his shirt, but you stop him.

"Let's start with your pants. That way, we're even..." You play with the hem of your sweater while giving him your best doe eyes.

He concedes, standing so that most of his waist takes up the camera. You find yourself leaning in now, a wetness growing between your legs as he takes off his belt in such a perfect way. He snaps it jokingly and laughs, but pauses when he sees your reaction.

"What? Should I spank you with this next time I see you?" Dave snaps the belt again and watches as you bite your lip coyly.

"I wouldn't say no..." You say appreciating your boyfriends figure as he slowly unbuttons his jeans.

His confidence continues, and you find yourself being turned on more and more as he unzips and slowly removes his jeans.

"Maybe I will bend you over my knee and treat you like the bad girl you are..." You know he still has a wave of laughing it off just in case you're not into the dirty talk he's starting, but you sense he's also getting into himself, especially with how hard and large his cock looks beneath his underwear.

"I'd like that..." You murmur, entranced by the screen before you. "I think you should tell me how you would punish me if you were here..."

"I would, um..." Dave tries to find the words, working it out. "I would turn you over and spank you until my handprint remains..."

You give a small moan to what he's said, your hands gripping your breasts and thighs over your clothing. You hear Dave's breathing pull in sharply, and you know this must be turning him on as much as you. You pull back your sweater once more, those red panties looking tantalizing on you once more.

"T-that's right... Take more off for me..." Dave's voice wavers as he tries to find a commandeering tone, but you oblige your sweet boyfriend just this once.

"Do you have any uh, toys?" Dave questions you, voice getting huskier by the second.

"Oh...? Why, do you wanna see me play with myself?" Dave is already nodding before you're finished, and you can see the need filling his blue eyes.

You stand, letting him get another view of your ass as you pull your typical toy from your nightstand. You see Dave blush once more as he gets a gander at your large pink dildo.

You sit, opening your legs so Dave can get a good view of your cunt, your red panties already starting to be soaked through. Dave had been rubbing himself over his boxers, but upon seeing so much of you, you watch with excitment as he slowly lets his cock flop out. You know youve seen it before, but his fat cock always surprises you with how girthy and thick it is.

"Take off your sweater." Dave commands, his deep and voice full of want.

You do as he says, realize the air of being unserious about this has shifted. Suddenly, you feel very inclined to do whatever your boyfriend tells you to.

You watch as Dave strokes himself, the tip of his cock growing wet just from seeing your tits fall out of your sweater so nicely. You weren't wearing a bra underneath, so he gets a nice view of them immediately. You hear him hold back a moan, his hands working just a bit faster once he sees your full figure.

"Tell me what you want to do to me..." You whisper into your headset mic, and you watch as Dave struggles between his own pleasure and dirty talking for a moment.

"I...I want to lay you on your bed and fuck you harder than I ever have..." He says it as if he's admitting it to himself his own dominating tendency.

Usually, Dave was pretty submissive in bed, and you liked that about him, but right now, something inside both of you wanted him to be the one to take control. You slide your hands up and down your body, feeling your own tits and pretending it's him.

"I want to be on top and see your face when you take such a big cock..." Dave mutters while biting his lip to keep another moan back.

Your legs feel tingly, and a shiver runs up your spine as you hear such little whimpers from him so close to your ears right now.

"Oh yeah? Tell me more..." You encourage him, and he takes it happily.

"I want to grab you by the neck, and make sure you know that it's me who's fucking you so good... I want to watch you choke a little while I fuck your brains out." You're a bit surprised by his new wants, but you don't mind.

In fact, you wish he would say more, say something really dirty and wrong that he would want to do to you.

"Let me see it..."

You already know what he wants, but your still tease him by slowly dragging your red panties to the side so he can get a good look at your glistening cunt. A groan escapes him when you do.

"Fuck...I need to fuck you so bad..." You love how easy it is to get him here.

"What else would you do?" You let your pretty pink dildo slide up and down your slit, teasing but not entering.

"I want to see you stuffed and filled with my cock, I want to slap away any moans you make from it, even though you can't help expressing how badly you want it..." Dave leans back into his chair as he speaks, hand still working himself, but getting lost in the moment.

"I want you to slap me until my cheeks go red..." You admit, and you can tell by his little sounds how much he wants that too. "Tell me what a dirty whore I am..."

"God, you're such a dirty whore...my personal little slut that I use up when ever I want to." Dave opens his eyes and watches you play with yourself for a moment.

"Put it in. I want you to stretch yourself out on your toy and imagine it's me, slut..." He finally commands you in such a way that there's no thought of even denying him.

Not with how badly you want this right now.

You let your toy slide in deeper to your folds, going past your most precious point, and deeper. You let your legs open wide for the camera, showing off your little cunt taking such a big dildo as yours. Dave watches intently, loving seeing you do exactly what he says, loving seeing you so filled up when he can't do it himself.

"Fuck yourself for me. I want you to moan my name and beg me to let you cum..." Dave is getting closer himself, the tip of his cock red and engorged as he strokes on.

You let your free hand play with your clit, slow circles quickly getting faster and faster as you take more and more of your own pleasure. You fuck yourself deeper, letting your toy really work your cunt in ways only you know feel best. You feel your skin prickling against the cool air now that your sweater cannot warm you against the cold of your apartment. You hit just the right spot inside of yourself, and Dave's name comes from your lips. You imagine it's him, fucking you into this computer chair, his hand around your throat.

"That's it, be a good little fucking slut and show me how you play with yourself..." Dave continues to entice you towards cumming.

"You better not cum without begging me though...you got that, bitch?" You can't believe your sweet, nerdy boyfriend could growl something so mean to you, but that's what makes this even better.

"Yes," You moan, agreeing to his terms.

"Good. You know how to be a proper whore then..." He sighs while he takes a moment to watch you, his own cock wanting nothing more than release right now.

"And if you don't cum for me now, I'll have to edge you relentlessly later." Dave threatens, and you feel yourself getting closer.

"Fuck, Dave..." You squirm in your seat, your cunt overwhelmed and swollen from how much attention you're giving it right now.

"That's right, baby girl..." He encourages you.

"I'm...I'm going to cum..." You whisper as you find yourself coming undone. "Please, please let me cum...!"

Your voice quivers and begs, your body spasming but holding off as you were told. Dave let's you keep it up for a few moments, stroking his own cock harder than ever, before groaning out.

"Cum for me..."

You feel those three magic words work their way against your skin, and suddenly, you're falling over the edge, waves of pleasure across your body, blossoming from your tender cunt. You watch as Dave finds his own pleasure, cum leaking out and eventually shooting down his hand, a low moan escaping his lips. You both ride out your orgasms together, and when you're done, there's nothing but the sound of heavy breathing and the snow storm raging outside.

You both take a minute, before agreeing to take a moment to clean up. You both snap off the camera. You trot on liquid legs to your bathroom and for a moment, you can't believe you just did that. You had never had phone sex, let alone letting Dave see you so vulernable with yourself. You're still surprised by his sudden dominating energy, but you find yourself now yearn to enact what you two talked about. You'll have to bring it up next time you're over. You hope he isn't too shy when the camera isn't on.

Eventually you come back to your virtual date night, having a new mug of hot cocoa ready, and half of The Princess Bride to finish. You get the pillow you originally were going for before being sidetracked, and feel cozier and more close to Dave than ever despite the physical distance. Dave doesn't even mind when you fall asleep in your chair just before the credits roll. He leaves his computer on, but snuggles up in his bed, telling you goodnight from there and leaving his headset on to hear your soft breaths.

Maybe the snow storm wasn't so bad after all...

Taglist: @lazyneonrabbitt @nikistan @remuslupinsno1slut @haha-im-dumb @shakedogshake @beep-boop-baby @aesniri @pinkyyy666 @lpeanut-butterl @shrekscrustybudassy @lookatmelookatme @dreary-salem @almostjollypizza @boo8008 @arabellacrybaby @imaslutforcuddles @yasugardaddieshouse @real-sharena-h @stilloverthinking @tvgirlsbluehair @magicalgoopdeanhuman @jazmin25 @sknnylgndsstuff @lenasdmns @iluvkr @d3psta @sinjinpools @whotfistaylor @mut4nts @loser-lover0527 @vselva-blog @adrienette715 @jayjay57 @gildedgwen @izzyisstuff @casuallycruel-tswiftie13 @winter-bearv

#dave lizewski x reader #dave lizewski #dave lizewski fanfic #kick ass fanfic #my writing #dave lizewski smut

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stvenzz · 4 days

Text

he smells like the sun.

that was your first thought about megumi fushiguro. it was surprising, considering his dark-colored clothes. you’d have thought he’d stink like a virgin nerd, but he smells like a warm sunny day. sitting next to him has made you realize how much you miss the days when you’d just drive off to the beach and sit there.

cramped in a small aula, you found yourself sitting closer to him than you’d thought. megumi doesn’t seem to care though, as your elbow keeps knocking against his. “-and of course, i’d like to remind you all that the campus winter ball is coming soon!” the dean says into the mic, and a flurry of groans follow. “it will be held in this very aula, with festive, non-alcoholic drinks! it will be a chance for you to bond with your classmates and get to know the faculty!”

“bond, like he boned one of the students last year.” you mutter to yourself.

that catches his attention. you smell like cinnamon. yes, yeah. like cinnamon rolls. megumi thinks, as he glances at you. he tries to think of why he hasn’t seen you around before - how he doesn’t recognize the cinnamon from your hair. you smile at your own joke, and he can’t help but smile a little too. not that it was funny, but because he thought you were funny. and alluring. and cinnamon scented.

“that’s it for today. i am hoping to see you all next week, alright?” the dean announces, but half of the crowd has already left to attend their morning classes. you start to pack up and leave, megumi does too. you think it’s the last you’ll ever smell sunshine indoors. he’s thinking of the cinnamon buns in the canteen.

the next time you see sunshine - yes, that’s the nickname you’ve come up for him - is during a dorm check. you see, you’ve been staying at a dormitory for a year with someone studying physics. nerds like that don’t usually stay too long in dormitories - they get too homesick and have to go back to their mamas or end up renting some other place less noisy or dirty. you’re kind of jealous, actually. the dorms are most of the time filthy with the smell of weed or tears.

“excuse me,” you hear a male voice chirp outside your room. “[y/n]?” groaning, you get up and fix your shirt. it’s supposed to be my off day. what the fuck is the nerd doing here- oh. there he was. in a pale blue button down and puffer jacket, stood megumi fushiguro - sunshine. “oh. it’s… hi.” he mutters, a light pink shade blushing his cheeks.

unbeknownst to you, megumi had been searching for traces of your cinnamon shampoo all over campus. “hey, do you… smell that cinnamon shit?” megumi would ask his friends, to where they’d laugh and shake their hands.

“you shouldn’t be smoking here.” he says, with a surprisingly confident manner.

you immediately become conscious of the small cigarette in between your index and middle finger, and you raise your eyebrows. “who are you?” you ask, pretending not to enjoy the warmth of his scent. “the new resident assistant.” he says, pointing to his clipboard. his eyes are deadpan, but inside, his heart is beating a mile a minute - he finally knows! you were his mystery cinnamon smell, as creepy as that sounds. “i meant your name, dingus.” you roll your eyes, taking a long drag of the cigarette. at that, his eyes seem to falter in surprise, but he shrugs. “shouldn’t matter. you know i could get you kicked out, right? just for smoking.”

the threat gets you thinking - why were you trying so hard to resist this nerd? “i’m almost finished. be patient, will you?” you smile sweetly, and it’s hard for him not to smile back. there’s an unspoken tension between you two, and it’s not the bad kind. in fact, you feel like you could almost read his emotions and his deadpan face. megumi’s eyes scan around your room, looking for anything he could report.

“well,” megumi scribbles down something on his clipboard. “it’s nice to meet you, [y/n].”

your heart starts beating funny — he didn’t report you for smoking. usually, you’d be more careful when smoking in the dorms, but this time, with your roommate gone and the absence of classes, you decided to just do it once, in your room. oddly enough, that’s the exact time the newly-appointed resident assistant, megumi fushiguro, arrived at your room, looking to check on the conditions of your place.

“you too.”

you put out your cigarette and settle with the fact that you may just never know sunshine’s name.

★☆ a/n: little blurb i wrote when i wuz in love with megumi.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk x fem reader #jjk x gn reader #jjk fluff #jjk x reader fluff #megumi fushiguro #megumi x reader #megumi fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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billthedrake · 4 months

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MVP PRIZE

NOTE: This is a water sports story.

The season wasn't over, but the college football team had only the bowl game ahead. In another day or so, the players would be back on campus, getting ready with a workout and a final practice. For now, the university was quiet, dead quiet the day after Christmas, and on a dark winter evening the parking lot was empty except for a pick up truck and an SUV parked two spaces down.

"You're early," Kevin Fielding said to the quarterback, whose tall athletic body seemed bulkier now that he was bundled in his parka, shoulders hunched some to keep warm.

"Couldn't wait Coach," Brock Mullins said, his voice laughing some at how absurd he must look to the authority figure. "I've been thinking about this nonstop since Championships."

Coach Fielding nodded. He knew as much. The kid didn't even have to say. It had been in his eyes in that excited on-field celebration when they clinched the conference title. Mullins was a competitor through and through, but the incentive Coach had agreed to was every bit on his mind as much as winning the big prize.

He now fumbled with the key in the lock of the metal door to the field house. Their breath condensed in the cold night air and Kevin felt the quarterback's hand cup his meaty ass through the sweat pants.

"Not here, damnit," Coach hissed.

Brock pulled it back but was insufficiently chastised. "What, Coach? No one's around at this hour."

The man paused and looked at the jock. 22, dark haired, ruddy cheeked, handsome as fuck. Kevin had to get his head examined for carrying on an affair like this. But they don't grow quarterbacks like Mullins on trees, and they don't make young men so completely and effortlessly sexy like him either. "All right, Brock,"" he relented. "You earned the right to be a little naughty."

The QB shot him a surprised smile which turned into a leer as his wide hand went back to that muscular coach ass. When he'd started college, Brock thought he was bi, but this whirlwind thing with Coach had him realized he liked men. Real men. Older men.

Already those QB fingers were dipping beneath the waistband of Coach's sweats.

Rather than get a rebuke, Fielding exhaled an exited breath of air. He'd let Mullins call the shots WAY too much. But damnit those fingers felt nice, in their direct probing deep into Kevin's crack, and zeroing right on his hole, where Brock's index finger curled to taunt and play with the elastic assring.

"Fuck Coach... you have an amazing ass," the jock hissed quietly, maybe not worried about someone hearing, somehow. "Gonna miss this when I graduate."

"A good four months away, Mullins," Coach croaked. He liked to play gruff with the kid, but truth was he didn't know what he'd do once this stud went off to the greener pastures of the NFL.

"You're not getting romantic on me are ya, Coach?" the quarterback deflected.

Only then did Kevin notice a couple of gallon jugs next to his player's feet.

"Jesus, Brock!" he gasped.

The jock now blushed. "I just wanted to be prepared," he said, contritely. He read the look for pure fear in Coach Fielding's face. "Listen, we can call this off if you want."

Kevin gulped. "I never back away from a promise," he said. "You know that."

"Yeah, Coach," came the well trained reply.

Fielding took another look at the jugs and shook his head before opening the door and ushering Brock inside.

The player flicked on the halls lights while Coach locked up behind them. If anyone came, they could make up a plausible story. And if it wasn't plausible, people in this college town would believe anything these guys said. They were practically heroes around these parts. Across the whole damn state, even. The championship had only cemented the hero worship.

From the back, Kevin couldn't help but admire the jock. Over the last year, something had clicked. Brock carried more muscle on his tall frame and just, well, walked like a professional jock. It had taken a lot of conversations and convincing during the quarterback's freshman and sophomore years to get him to take leg strength training as seriously as the linemen on the team, but by junior year Brock realized that was part of the game too, for strength and balance alike.

Now, Mullins had an incredible bubble ass in those paper-thin jogger sweats, clenching with each stride. It was a quarterback's ass to be sure, but fuck...

They hadn't talked about how this would go down. But this was Brock's fantasy, so Kevin let him guide it. It had all sounded so crazy back in October, when after a long, almost romantic session in Coach Fielding's bed, the older man promised he'd indulge his quarterback's kinkier side if they won the big title. And if they won the BCS championship, anything was on the menu. Anything.

Kevin Fielding wouldn't have to worry about the "anything" now. Even after the team's incredible season, the team would have to content themselves for being Conference champs. But what a hell of a rush it was. First time in over a decade. Not only would this make Coach Fielding's job secure, it would certainly help in salary negotiation.

But it was about more than the money. Kevin lived and breathed football. Got a hardon for success on the field, and had since he was a tight end back in the day. He used to think he was a freak, getting sexually charged by a win, but it turns out he wasn't the only one. Hell, Mullins was right there with him.

They'd first fooled around - crossed that forbidden line between coach and player, authority figure and student - in this very shower. So it seemed fitting now that Brock was leading them back toward the shower entrance, setting down the jugs. They were gonna do this here. Brock's eyes were on his coach as they stripped down, just like they were suiting up for practice. It made Kevin feel like he was in college again, one of the guys, even if he had a bigger body now... more fit than beefy but still a middle aged body.

Objectively, Fielding knew he was a good looking masculine man. Thick head of dark hair, dark soulful eyes, trimmed beard, strong ex-jock build, masculine as fuck.

But Mullins was a Greek god of a jock, only thicker in his muscle than any ancient statue. NFL-sized muscle. Already Brock was peeling down those joggers, and Kevin's eyes widened to see that amazing long, thick bone stick up, horny as fuck.

Brocks smirked as he kicked off the sweats and faced the man. "Been holding off a few days, Coach," he said.

Fielding gulped. He always did, even a year and a half into their affair. It wasn't right that this golden boy was porn-star hung, but that QB cock was insanely long. When the kid was horny, which seemed practically all the time, Mullins neared the 10-inch mark. Not overly thick, but a regular-width, almost straight piece of jock meat.

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," Kevin hissed as he peeled down his sweatpants. He wasn't Mullins hung, but his thick tool looked right on his thick, hairy bod.

The athlete nodded and his prick jerked. But even as he acknowledged Coach Fielding's hesitation, he felt the urgency that this just might happen. "I delivered for ya, Coach," he said, simply. Football was a team sport, and the championship belonged to everyone, but Mullins was MVP and there was no doubt their success relied on his ability and natural leadership.

"Yeah," Kevin replied, folding his clothes in a neat pile on the locker room bench. "In the shower?" he asked.

Brock cocked a grin. He picked the jugs up and followed Kevin into the tiled area.

Coach still didn't know how this was going to go down, not exactly. He watched Brock set down the water jugs and turn back to face him. The man almost chickened out, but he'd promised this to his quarterback. Moreover, the athlete was clearly excited, and the look on Brock's face made Kevin want to give this experience to the jock. Not just endure it.

"God, you're so hot, Coach," Brock said as he stepped up to Kevin and wrapped his arms around the man's solid waist. Fielding had been a quarterback in college, too, but he was much shorter, 5'11" to Brock's towering 6'6". Still, the jock pulled the man leaned down as he pulled his coach's naked body to him. They kissed, mouths parting and tongues connecting.

The make out session felt perfect to the older man, and he was so caught up in it that the first shot of warm liquid against his hair torso took him by surprise. He moaned into Brock's mouth as another jet of piss sprayed him.

"Fuck, this is so hot," the player gasped as he pulled back from the kiss. He looked down to see that thick coach muscle dripping with pale yellow drops.

Surprisingly it didn't freak Fielding out. It was just warm liquid and felt kind of pleasantly ticklish on his skin. "You holding back, Mullins?" he grinned.

Brock laughed. "It's hard to piss with a boner, Coach," he explained. "But fuck... my bladder is so full."

Kevin gulped. "Take your time, buddy."

The QB nodded. "I intend to. You're giving me my fantasy, Coach." He ran his hands up and down the older man's strong back, moving up his throwing hand to squeeze Fielding's meaty trap. "Why don't you kneel down?" he asked with clear need. "I'll get a towel for you."

Coach wished he was more turned on by this. But this was Mullins' show, his kinky fantasy. His dong was soft and thick, hanging between his hairy thighs as he knelt down on the folded towel Brock offered.

The jock meanwhile had lost only a little of his hardon. It stood out, not standing fully but long and menacing nonetheless. The slight loss of erection did the trick. The quarterback reached down and aimed his prick right at Coach Fielding's chest and let it rip.

"Jesus!" Kevin gasped as the hot spray hit his platelike chest muscle, the force making piss spray reach the bottom of his chin. He could smell it now, not acrid, but definitely salty urine.

It seemed to last an eternity, but in reality Brock's cock was bouncing up to full rigidity again. The spigot was turned off, and Kevin watched some stray drops of liquid fall from his player's cock tip. The kid really had an amazing dick.

"This is so frickin' hot," Mullins hissed as he looked down on this authority figure. He took a deep breath and added, "Close your eyes, Coach," he grunted.

"What?" Kevin asked. Not processing the request.

Brock's lust was making him impatient. "Come on, Coach. I won the fucking game. Close your eyes unless you want it to sting.

Nervous, Kevin did as asked. He clenched his eyelids tightly. Brock Mullins was a kinky fucker, more kinky than Fielding liked. But he could do this.

Brock held his monster dick and tightened his abdominal muscles to press down on his still very full bladder. The piss traveled through his urethra and shot out in a high arc that actually went well over Kevin Fielding's head until Brock pushed his prick down to hose down his coach from the forehead to the chin and back, before he unclenched his abs.

"Fuck!" the QB gasped. He'd fantasied about watersports, but this was hotter in real life even.

Kevin sensed the piss stop and opened his eyes, braving the quick sting before he refocused on his athlete. Brock had a look of excitement, but also surprise as his eyes were focused downward.

"You like this Coach," he said in in astonishment. "You're hard as a rock."

Kevin was still processing this. But Brock was right, his coach dick was very stiff between his thighs. The man felt used but in a good way, his body fur soaked with the first rounds of jock piss. It felt wild and taboo.

The man leaned up, showing off his boner to the kid. "Guess so, stud," he hissed. "Fuck!"

Brock smirked. He didn't give Coach any warning this time, but it wasn't a full piss, just a quick shot of urine he let loose. He didn't have careful aim but some splash on Kevin's chin, briefly reaching his lips.

"Jesus," the man grunted. Leave it to his star player to show him some new tricks. He looked up at Brock, their eyes connecting in shared sexual excitement. Fielding felt more than a little ashamed and a lot vulnerable. But Brock's eyes told him that the kid was into this even more that Kevin was going along with it.

Maybe the thrilled look in those hazel eyes made Kevin open to it, but as he looked up, he opened his mouth and ran his tongue along his lips. Instantly, he could taste what Brock's piss was like.

"Damn, Coach," Brock hissed. "Merry fuckin' Christmas to me."

The coach laughed as he leaned back up. "Not as bad as I feared, Mullins," he admitted.

This was beyond a dream come true for Brock. With any other man, the piss play would be hot, but having THIS man open to it was a dream come true. "Plenty more where that came from Coach," the QB said.

"I bet," Kevin said then looking over the athlete's nude torso, he asked. "You still feeling full, Brock?"

The jock nodded. "I drank a lot of water on my way over."

The man's eyes went back to that massive dick. Hard, but losing just enough of its rigidity to let loose again. He took in a deep breath. It was now or never, he decided. "Just go easy," he warned as he leaned forward and latched his lips over the tip of Brock's dick.

"Oh shit!" Brock gasped. Then, "Oh yeah..." He felt the soft tap of the man's tongue. He'd experienced coach's oral skills a lot but this was different. The quarterback worried he was gonna get too hard quick, so he just let loose with a stream before his thumb and forefinger cut off the spigot.

Kevin Fielding's dick jerked in excitement at the first contact of Brock's piss on his tongue. It wasn't that it tasted good, just the opposite. But it was the forbidden nature of the act that turned Coach on. It was a crazy intimate experience. Maybe Kevin had a kinky streak too, because he swallowed the urine and pulled off with a hungry look.

"Damn, buddy," he said, his tone almost complaining. He was a little upset that Brock had showed him he liked this, at least if it was Mullins doing the pissing.

Brock was almost hyperventilating. THIS was hands down the hottest sex of his life. The only bad thing was the quarterback might have a hard time going back to vanilla. "God, you're really fucking in to this, Coach."

Kevin felt emboldened now. He didn't answer other than to lean back to latch his mouth over that dong once more.

Brock released his pinching grip and shot another spurt into Coach's gulping mouth. It took just a few seconds for the two men to get a rhythm going, Brock easing the release of just the amount of piss that Kevin swallowed in loud gulps, each swallow turning both men on more.

Finally the flow stopped and Brock stepped back, his hardon swaying. "Too fucking horny to piss," he explained.

"You got anywhere to be, Mullins?" Kevin asked. Surprising himself, but damnit he wanted more of Brock's piss. It was a headfuck that he was enjoying.

Brock laughed. "Nah, Coach. Glad you're up for a longer session. I did NOT expect this."

"Me either, kid," Fielding laughed. His brown eyes grew more serious. "You think less of me, Mullins?"

Brock shook his head. "The opposite, man. Fuck..." The athlete wished he had a bigger vocabulary, but the swear word captured his state of mind, horned up and his mind more than a little blown. He looked down on his kneeling coach. "You really up for this, Coach?"

Kevin gulped and nodded. He watched as Brock methodically picked up one of the jugs and undid the plastic lid, popping it open and tipping up the whole thing to his mouth. It was like Mullins was at football practice on a hot August day, the way the kid gulped it down. Not all in one go, but the Coach watched half of the jug disappear down the hatch before Brock pulled it back to take a break, then resuming. The whole time, the athlete's cock was rock hard. No way was he pissing anytime soon, and both men seemed to know that when Brock finally set down the empty jug, his bladder making his lower belly swell a bit.

Piss or no, Fielding was back on that cock. Now bobbing up and down on the stick to give the kind of blow job that he knew Brock liked for longer sessions. Enough stimulation, enough pleasure, without tripping the kid's wires too quickly. The young man spread his legs and looked down on the coach fellating him.

"Can't wait to piss in your mouth again, Coach," he hissed, running his fingers in Kevin's hair, which was still damp from Brock's hosing. "Tell me we're gonna do more of this.... tell me this isn't the last time you're gonna drink my piss."

Kevin felt his heart pound. He realized this was driven by his desire for the golden boy was much as it was an innate love of watersports. But leave it to Brock to make him question that distinction. He spit out the prick and growled. "It's not going to be the last time I drink your piss."

Brock grinned and contracted his abs once more. A hard jet of pale yellow splashed right on Kevin's face.

"Fuck yes," Kevin growled. He was fucked up to get into this shit, but he now moved his head around, just as Brock was directing his stream all over from the thick hair to the mouth.

"Take it, Coach," Brock grunted. The spray stopped but as he watched Coach Fielding's mouth descend again, a beeline to that beautiful cock, Brock redoubled the pressure and pissed right into Coach's open mouth. Kevin let it pool in his mouth then gurgled it down.

Both seemed disappointed when the stream finally stopped.

"Need a break," Brock explained, apologizing. "Maybe you can suck me some."

Coach Fielding grinned. "Can definitely do that.... but you're more an ass man. Mullins."

That giant dick jerked. He knew what Coach was offering. "Yeah, I am."

Kevin had an impish look as he ran his mitt up and down that piss wet dong. "Championship MVP deserves a fuck."

"Shit..." Brock's voice was catching in his throat. The was a lot of things to navigate fooling around with his coach. Boundaries, respect... all the football stuff that could be thrown off balance by the sex. They'd tiptoes around a LOT the first year of their affair, but now had reached a good vibe. On the field or in the locker room, Coach Fielding called the shots, but in the sack, Kevin Fielding let his Golden Boy get his way.

"You got the stuff?" Brock asked. They'd experimented with a lot of lubes, and found a favorite.

"In my office," Kevin said. "You think you can take a break from the piss?"

Brock thought a half second. "I need to cum pretty bad, actually. I'm SO worked up right now."

"I can tell," Fielding grinned. He got up off the kneeling position and reached over to turn on the shower. He'd want a quick rinse not to get the remnants of Brock's piss everywhere. His player meanwhile strutted out of the shower, making his way back to Coach's office to set up. There was a spare mat they'd used to fuck before, mating right there on the floor of Coach Fielding's office.

The coach was a little contemplative as he turned off the shower. He was a little scared of himself and how out of control he'd gotten. Pissplay and fucking right here in the fieldhouse. But the naughtiness was a turn on.

No need to dry himself off, Kevin padded his way to his office, dripping on the linoleum-tiled floor on the back to the metal and glass door. He could lose his job over this, but somehow knew he wouldn't. Just as people wouldn't know Brock Mullins was a star athlete into other dudes and with a kinky side. The young man would probably make waves in the NFL and if luck and talent and hard work won out, he'd enter the pantheon of elite quarterbacks.

And if the jock ever needed a piss buddy, Kevin Fielding knew he'd take whatever booty call the younger stud made.

His big muscular body shook in that realization and he took another deep breath before opening his own office door and stepping inside.

(TO BE CONT.)

#drakestories

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everythingmp3 · 4 months

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𝕀´𝕧𝕖 𝕄𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕐𝕠𝕦 .⋅♡

adult!Van x fem!reader (smut)

working for Van had just been a temporary thing, but it lead to an intense crush, a painful goodbye, and the inability to move on. a few months later, you run into her at night. she didn’t forget about you either.

minors dni. warnings: slight intoxication, oral, fingering

(disclaimer: kind of long, I just felt like doing something a little more elaborate and fleshed out, hope u enjoy💌)

it had been about four months since you´d last seen Van, but it felt like an eternity. you had worked for her during the summer, just a temporary job to help her out during the busier season, but by the end of August when you had to say goodbye it hurt much worse than you ever expected; the night after your last shift you cried on your way home, unsure how to cope with letting go of her, how to move on from what she´d made you feel.

you two got along immediately, from the very first day you worked for her it was easy and light and lovely, but that connection turned into something deeper very quickly, about two weeks in you realized how screwed you were, how attracted to her you were, how much you missed her during weekends, how she made you forget about all the things going wrong in your life. but you couldn´t do anything about it before it was already fall and you were forced to move on from that brief period of knowing her.

it was a winter night, you´d gone out to a bar with friends, who had just left in an Uber because it had gotten late and they didn´t live around the corner, unlike you. you were just about to leave as well, when you walked by someone and did a double take to see if it was really her, but it was. there she was: Van, leaning against the wall, looking at her phone, her hair glowing beautifully in the light of the neon sign. you´d had a few drinks, so it was easy to just walk up to her and tap her on the shoulder, watching her face break into that familiar smile once she turned to look at you, "oh my god?? hi!" she seemed genuinely glad to see you, offering a tight hug immediately, which made your body heat up, that effect she had on you, bubbling right back up.

she realized you were pretty tipsy, it was endearing to her, seeing you with your guard down like that, all smiley, face glowing, "what are you doing here?" you asked her, which made her laugh, "believe it or not, i do have a few friends", "no, of course, i know, i was just wondering.. maybe you were on a date or something" grinning at her as you said this, she cocked her head, fixing you with a gaze that gave away how charmed she still was by you, "no, i wasn´t on a date. were you?" she asked, teasing a little. you shook your head, "friends. they just left, they took a car, i´ll walk", she raised her eyebrows "what, all on your own? like that?" gesturing towards you "like what?", "drunk, at risk of stumbling into traffic or something" she joked, you nudged her, "shut up, i am not that drunk" she smiled, leaning closer, "listen, how about i walk you home? you live around here, right?" you were surprised by the offer but really happy about it, any time you could spend with her was an unexpected gift, "okay, yes, you can tell me what you´ve been up to" you said in a playful tone, she pushed you towards the door, shaking her head "nice try, i am not spilling any secrets, you have more exciting stories to tell anyway, I bet".

the walk to your place was only about ten minutes, just enough time to link arms with her, under the guise of steading yourself. each passing second you felt giddier and more excited about unexpectedly being close to her again, after having pushed down all the unresolved feelings for her. you didn´t know this but she was going through the same exact thing, feeling that old pull towards you, that intense, almost obsessive affection, that had haunted her since you´d stepped out of her store for the last time.

once you stood at the front door of your house, you both looked at each other, a moment of silence, you couldn´t bear letting go of her so quickly, so you tried to sound casual asking "hey, you know what? i saw your apartment like a hundred times when i worked for you, now that you´re already here, i could show you my room in return?" you somehow succeeded in not making it sound suggestive, she was not registering it as a move on her, not really. she hesitated for a second, knowing it wasn´t a good idea at all, seeing your space, because it would only deepen the ache of not truly being part of your life, but she just couldn´t leave you, so she nodded, "yes, sure, it´s not like i have anywhere else to be", also trying to make it sound casual, when it felt anything but that.

the apartment was dark, you lead her to your room, explaining that your roommates were gone, walking over to you nightstand to grab a lighter, quickly lighting a few candles, telling Van to come in make herself comfortable, she was smiling to herself watching you, because it looked like you were setting the mood, but she could tell you did that every night. once you were done and looked at her taking in the details of your room, you realized how intimate it was, to have her see all of it up close, but she was very complimentary "this is such a nice space, it suits you", you blushed a little, "thanks. you don´t have to stand there by the way, come, sit" still a little bolder than usual from the drinks in your system, sitting down on your bed, patting the space next to you, before laying down flat on your back, legs dangling off the edge. she joined you, realizing that sitting upright would look awkward, so she laid back too, enjoying the softness of the sheets "god this is nice" she sighed, closing her eyes for a second.you two laid there like that for a moment, you could feel her body heat, it was a lot, suddenly having her there, in your bed, where you´d dreamed of her many times.

you didn´t face her yet, instead staring at the ceiling while saying "i missed you, you know", confessing it. she turned her head, studying your side profile, smiling, surprised "you had my number, why didn´t you text me?", "what would i have said?", she laughed, "jesus i don´t know, have you ever heard of small talk? it usually goes something like: hi, how are you?", you turned to look at her then, her face barely inches from yours, pretty as always, your heart beating faster, "very funny, you know what i mean, it would´ve been odd, just out of nowhere" she nodded, "sure, i get it. i missed you too but never reached out either so.." that got you, "you did??" you asked, making sure she was being serious, she looked confused "of course, why wouldn´t I?" you thought about it, "i don´t know. i guess i never considered i was important to you like that" she shook her head "oh come on, of course you knew that i cared about you, it was pretty obvious" you saw her hand resting on her chest and put yours on top of it, your fingers between hers, feeling her react,"I guess I did know in a way, you were always so sweet to me. i was pretty fucking devastated when our time was over. it´s kind of pathetic but i actually cried on that last day" you admitted, squeezing her hand, she was stunned, waiting for you to face her again, which you did, your eyes full of unexpressed love all of a sudden, hers barely containing how hard that image of you in tears over her hit her, her hand moving away from under yours to caress your face.

"i had no idea. i wish you´d have told me, we could´ve stayed in touch, i could´ve been there for you" your breath was uneven now, feeling her hand on your cheek, looking at her with pleading eyes, whispering, "Van, you don´t know how much i missed you these past few months. that time we spent together, I was going through a lot but you were so good to me, you were the only thing making me happy. letting go of you was horrible", you were almost choked up, she could have cried then, it was more than she ever imagined possible, your feelings for her being so intense, her voice low and quiet then,"I don´t act like that with just anyone, please know that. it was special, you made me feel alive again. i still think about you all the time".

you were overcome with everything you´d felt for her for so long, instinctively closing any distance that was left between your bodies, your face close enough to hers to feel her hot breath on your lips, her hand wandering to your waist, watching your lips part in anticipation, finally giving in, finally; she leaned in to kiss you.

gently at first, but it took only a second for you to press yourself against her as hard as possible, trying to deepen the kiss, mouth open, your hand grabbing her face, hips moving against hers, fingers tangled in her long hair, kissing her back, sloppier by the second, an urgency to both of your movements, her hands firm and strong on your body, laying there, making out in a way that looked like you were trying to devour each other. you pulled away after a while, staring at each other out of breath, a smile on her face, watching your expression give away how deeply turned on you were, "please..." a whisper from you, begging her to do more, her hand under your shirt then, grabbing your chest, eliciting a gasp, leaning in to kiss your neck, hearing you moan, she could feel your growing desperation, your hands moving to your pants to get them off, so she helped, moving down to your legs, tearing the clothing off while you pulled your shirt up and tossed it aside too, she did the same, pulling off everything but her underwear, "you´re so fucking beautiful" she marveled, grabbing your thighs, feeling the soft skin, taking in the sight of your exposed body, you doing the same to her, she kissed your knee, "i´m dying to taste you" you nodded eagerly, "please, yes" moving your legs apart, giving her access, watching her pull off your underwear, immediately kissing your inner thigh all the way up, seeing you lean back and close your eyes, a "fuck" escaping your lips, she reached for both of your hands to help you hold onto something, feeling you fingers tightening around her own.

the second she ran her tongue over your cunt she moaned louder than you did, finally doing what she´d imagined many times before, those hot days when you sat next to her in shorts, your body almost completely visible, finally hers, so she took her time, slow deep movements up and down the extreme wetness, getting aroused from the taste, the feeling of it coating her lips, before adding some force to it, entering deeper into you, faster movements, hearing you cry out, basically crushing her hands then form how hard you were gripping them, she stopped at your clit, switching between sucking and licking, feeling you move your hips upwards to add to the pressure, she let go of your hands, holding you in place by your thighs, she could tell your body was aching for more, so eventually she moved her hand to where her mouth was still on you.

you were a mess by then, you could feel her fingers running over your throbbing core but before she could continue you pleaded, "please, come here, i want to look at you", she smiled, turned on by your demand, climbing up to hover over you, her chin glistening in the dim light, her lips a little swollen, the tips of her hair brushing your skin, looking down at you, staring into your eyes, her gaze giving away that she was taken over completely by her hunger for you.

she moved her hand back to where it was before, teasing for a second, savoring how warm and absolutely soaked you were, watching you struggle to keep your eyes fixed on her, your mouth open; the feeling of being pinned beneath her, the sight of her being possessive, the sensation of her fingers, it was all driving you fucking insane. "please Van..." you begged, she complied, two of her fingers pushing into you, slowly at first, taking in every little reaction of your body, the sounds you were making different then, more whining than moaning, "this okay?" she made sure, applying some pressure, finding the rhythm that would make you unravel, listening for cues, "god yes" you sighed, "you feel so fucking good", she was encouraged by that, fucking you not the way she´d fuck a hookup but with more feeling, more intensity, telling you how pretty you looked, how perfect, meaning all of it, your hands grabbing her shoulders for support, she was hitting the right spot, your legs were trembling more each passing moment, she could feel you come undone under her, both of your bodies hot all over from being skin to skin,"you´re close, hm?" she cooed, watching you nod, unable to form a word, "show me, sweetie, let me see you cum" her fingers more forceful then, adding the final bit of pressure you needed to be pushed over the edge, her unflinching gaze forcing you into that vulnerable state of being witnessed up close, at your most open, most uninhibited.

Van could feel and see a violent shudder go through your whole body, but she didn´t stop just yet, too enthralled by your sounds and movements, her fingers lingering on your clit, not letting up until you were truly finished, your chest slowly rising and falling in a steadier rhythm again. the second you regained some of your strength you pulled her in for a deep kiss, before pushing her over to the empty space next to you, so you could straddle her, your hands resting on her freckled chest, her fingers wrapping around your wrists, smiling up at you, a sweet moment of looking at each other out of breath, enthralled and still high on endorphins.

breaking the silence, you asked her "so, what side of the bed do you like to sleep on?" she grinned, her eyes lowered,"is that your subtle way of asking me to stay over?" you just looked at her as she shook her head, laughing to herself, "funny, how you think you need to talk me into these things, because there´s hardly anything i would say no to, ever, if it´s you who´s asking" you smiled then, feeling her thumbs move over your skin in a soothing motion, "careful, you´ll regret saying that, you´ll get so sick of me, just wait" she grinned, shaking her head, "never, never in my life", a satisfied look on your exhausted but happy face.

she pulled you down to have you lay on her chest, her fingers running through your hair, feeling you relax into it, "my sweet girl" she whispered, placing a tender kiss on your head, breathing in the scent of your shampoo. both of you were glowing with love, feeling it all over, radiating off your bodies; how glad you were to have each other back.

#idk what it is about her but it always ends up emotional #van palmer x reader #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets #van palmer #vanessa palmer

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