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#ignore the tequila on a work night
cityofjimmy · 2 years
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It’s spooky season 👻
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chososluv · 5 months
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✎₊˚⊹♡ summary: in which i thought of Work Husband!Nanami and how supportive and delicate and how he would be and how i'd want him to ruin me and thus this came along. w.c 2.2k 🏷 tags/warnings: fem!reader, reader has a vagina, office sex, petnames (hun, sweetheart, darling, little work wife), squirting, cremepie, dirty talk, also got excited will proofread fully later
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Work Husband!Nanami: Who saw you your first day in the office and immediately wanted you to succeed greatly amongst the new hires. However you had no idea, taking his mature and direct aura personally and thinking he didn’t like you. You kept your distance.
Work Husband!Nanami: noticed you kept your distance and one day called you over. He sat you down and unprompted gave you pointers on how to succeed. You took the lesson with surprise and attempted to hide your excitement that you had been wrong. The man before you didn’t not like you. He wouldn’t take the time to give you a lesson — that you learned later he did not do to the new hires — if he didn’t like you? Right?
Work Husband!Nanami confirmed he liked you by telling you were the most impressive new hire he has seen. The compliment coming genuinely during a moment where he was admiring your work. A mock proposal and he had no critiques for this one. Versus when you first started — almost a month ago — he had plenty of feedback and concerns.
Work Husband!Nanami has to hide his excitement when you are offered the chance to stay. One of three of the twenty interns that came in, and due to your growth and determination, you earn the opportunity to score your first big person job with generous benefits. One of them being Nanami Kento.
Work Husband!Nanami offers to take you out to lunch as a celebration. Officially colleagues, you begin to let loose and relax around him. Your banter became increasingly witty and Nanami found his pants becoming increasingly tighter than usual whenever in your presence.
Work Husband!Nanami Who is oblivious to your slow testing of boundaries to see how far you could go. Your skirts became tighter on the days you knew Nanami would be working close to you — the shirts became magically one button undone whenever you were surprised with his visits.
Work Husband!Nanami catches on to your passes when you take the first step by verbally flirting with him directly. It was with the help of a little tequila, but you looked longly at his wrist, eyeing his watch one day during an after-work-drink. The pretty silver Cartier bringing attention to his prominent veins in his hand and thick digits. . .
Y/N, are you listening?”
“Sorry, was distracted by your hands.” You admit and he felt the heat flush to his face. Stunned by your words but you don’t flench, you go a step forward to bring his right hand into your delicate pair. Your soft hands running against his and he has to fight with strength to ignore that familiar tightness in his pants.
“Your hands are pretty”
Work Husband!Nanami regrets nothing happened that night between you, but he fucks his cock into his hand furiously that night, wishing it was your tight cunt riding him. Little does he know you’re riding your dildo, fucking your tight cunt on the silicone wishing it him instead.
Work Husband!Nanami plays a cat and mouse game with you. A game of flirty banter and longing gazes and touches. The two of you began building up suspense. Each day a day closer to one of you snap.
Work Husband!Nanami is surprised he snaps first. The day he snaps is the day you show up to work wearing a short skirt and high heels that accentuate your ass. It’s your presentation day too and as you turn to the side to present, your ass faces Nanami and he has trouble focusing on your topic. His brain so frazzled and dazzled by your generous rear he is digging his toes into the leather soles of his loafers. His fists tighten and you bite back a grin when you cast glance to him and see his jaw clenching.
Work Husband!Nanami has to flee as soon as the meeting is over. he quickly runs to his private office, shutting the door and sitting at his desk. he throws his head back, muttering and swearing as he spreads his thighs apart, alleviating the tightness between his legs. his mind began to wonder if he could survive the rest of the day with a hard cock and a pretty devil by the name of y/n.
Work Husband!Nanami begins thrusting his pretty pink cock into his hand. the itch and desire being relived as he thinks of your scent and what you tasted like. if you creamed or if you squirted — or shit, if you did both. he thinks about the recurve of your ass whenever he’d hit it from the back, or how soft your skin would be against his when he took you missionary
Work Husband!Nanami panics when he hears you knocking at the door but nevertheless says you can come in. When you do, you lock the door and immediately walk over to his desk. You sit down in the chair on the opposite side, pouting dramatically.
“How can I help, y/n?” Work Husband!Nanami asks of you and you only continue pouting. A dramatic, and comedic, sigh escapes your mouth and you cross your legs. A sudden cold draft due to your plan you had in motion before you entered his office.
“You left before saying anything to me.” You say rather needy but Work Husband!Nanami can’t help but feel entranced by your tone. A moment he realized he liked this bratty side you were displaying. However, he clears his throat and sighs.
“I wasn’t feeling well. It wasn’t about you, darling.” He assures and you can’t help but feel guilty, oblivious that he was just beating his dick to the thought of your scent. You jump up from the chair, placing your hands on the desk and leaning forward. You unintentionally show him a charitable view of your breast but he tries to remain holding eye contact with you.
“Kento, I’m sorry I’m such a terrible work wife.” The first time you let the phrase fall from your lips and he chuckles. He’s well aware of the phrase, overhearing you loudly proclaim he was your work husband to coworkers not knowing he was on the others side of the wall. He waited for the day you would say it to him and today you finally did. . .
And for some reason, that really did it to him because felt his cock twitch in his trousers and then he finds himself looking at your breast briefly before speaking.
“Work husband, huh?” A soft smirk toying at his lips and you can't help but nod in confirmation.
"Yeah, don't you know?" You toy with him, an attempt to remain in control at the situation and you pass it off as flirty banter. He can only smile at you, tapping his hands along his desk as he speak his next words.
"No. Why don't you come show me, sweet work wife?" The low baritone of his voice went straight to your cunt and you're rubbing your thighs together. A pheromone daze shared between the two of you as you two stare at one another. A brief pause before you reach into your bra, retrieving your panties you departed with earlier and tossing them at Nanami. The dainty material lands on his thigh and he immediately sees the navy lace dark blue and soaked through. His cock jumps, and he looks at you. A cocky smirk is on your lips and he clears his throat before speaking.
"Come here, now" Work Husband!Nanami commands sensually before you and before you can talk yourself out of it you’re rounding his desk. He gets up from his chair, meeting you halfway before grabbing your body swiftly. He places you on his desk and it takes you a minute to register he lifted you like you weighed absolutely nothing. Your cunt fluttering at his brute strength and you stare at him doe eyed.
Work Husband!Nanami has to eat you out after pocketing your soaked through panties. His tongue dipping to collect your arousal that dripped out of you. Your scent clouding his nose as he moans against your wet and swollen clit. He sucks generously on the bud and you bite down hard on the back of your hand to silence yourself. Your eyes roll in the back of your head as his hot tongue circles your cunt like he was starved. Your free hand tugging on his blond locks and you feel like you’re about to cum.
“Kento . . . want to come on your cock, please.” You beg quietly and who is he to be a bad work husband and object?
Work Husband!Nanami rocks gently in you after slipping inside. He holds your legs up by the back of your knees, lewdly exposing yourself to him as he pistons himself inside. Your warm cunt hugging him deliciously and so tightly, yet you were so wet at the same time. Nanami is amazed, and already feels so pussy drunk off you surely he’s addicted. How can he not be? Especially with the way your tits bounced with each stroke and the way you moaned, singing his praises he ached to he able to take his time next time he was intimate with you. However he takes in the moment, casting a gaze to see your fucked out face and he wishes he could take a picture . . .
“Been dreaming of this pretty pussy.” He admits. You answer with a mixture of a giggle and a moan. The sound is beautiful and melodic and its something he can get used to.
“Been riding my toy wishing it was you.” You admit before you can stop yourself, allowing this side of you emerge as you felt drunk off his cock. He groans at your confession, rolling his hips deeper and tip kissing the deeper parts of you. It sends your toes curling and choking back a whimper.
“My poor little work wife been suffering by yourself. Let me make it better, honey.” He coos to you gently, kissing your forehead before rolling his hips harder. His long fingers find your swollen and neglected clit. You twitch harder against him, squirting and surprising both of you. You bite back a squeal as your eyes roll back.
“Kento!” You whispered in a desparate tone. Finds himself asking “Are you going to come, hun?” To which you reply — “mhmm, are you?”
“Fuck if you keep creaming on me like this, fuck yeah sweetheart.” Nanami makes a mistake and casts a look down to see his cock coated in a mix of his cum and your cream. His cock has never looked prettier and he fights the urge to fill you right there.
“Want you to come in me. Please, Kento.” You beg and he clenches his jaw.
Work Husband!Nanami has to shove his face in your neck when cums. His teeth biting hard on your neck as his tongue tastes you and your sweat. He feels you fight screaming as the bite travels straight to your belly, and his fingers circle your clit faster. That thread in your stomach unwinding and snapping. Your grip on him tightens as you cum all over his cock.
Work Husband!Nanami silences you with a kiss as he fills you with his cum. The overstimulation causing you to moan, clamping tightly on his cock as you fight to wrap your legs around his waist. He drops his hands, allowing you to do so and you wrap your arms around him as well. He holds you close to him, chuckling as you fell into the aftershocks of your orgasm.
Work Husband!Nanami has to see his cum trickle out of you and onto his desk. He has to fight getting hard again, but remembers one round was risky enough so he kisses your forehead gently to tell you how good you are for him.
Work Husband!Nanami wipes you down tenderly afterwards. He cleans you delicately before situating himself and his office space. When you fix yourself over he looks at you.
“You were perfect this morning by the way. Never been prouder of my work wife.” Satisfied with his words, his praise, and still in the haze of your orgasm you smile wide. You stand from the chair, fixing yourself to leave before he steps close to you.
"Thank you, Kento." You say, looking up as he looms over you. He brushes your hair back into its normal place, looking you over before you walked back into the office. His eyes are filled with nothing but tenderness as he tends to you, fixing your clothes and checking you over one last time.
"Do you feel better now," you nod at his inquiry, "all you needed was to be stuffed with my cum? Naughty." He shakes his head and you only shrugs before grinning up at him.
"Only for you." You tease Work Husband!Nanami and he clears his throat. He leans down, taking your lips with his deeply. You melt, humming gently before his broad fingers find your ass. He gives it a rough squeeze through your skirt and you blush at his gesture.
"Let me know when you need me to fill you again." Work Husband!Nanami says paired with an ass slap as you nodded. You look up at him beneath your lashes as you do before sauntering sultrily away. You unlock the door and exit his office nonchalantly as if he was not fucking you on his desk moments ago.
Work Husband!Nanami now has to figure out how he has to cope with knowing you're walking around the office stuffed full of his cum . . .
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©chososluv ╰┈┈➤ P A R T T W O [Boyfriend!Nanami] ╰┈┈➤ M A S T E R L I S T !
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seethesin · 6 months
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wake up call
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pairing: Hazel Callahan x F!Reader
tags/warnings: sexual content, hazel & reader are 18+, established relationship, college au, body worship, teasing, oral over clothing, orgasm denial/edging (18+, mdni)
a/n: i too have caught feelings for my favorite arsonist, hazel callahan 😔 have an uncharacteristically short, smutty fic while i work my thoughts out.
loosely based on this prompt. gif pack/gif credit. enjoy :)
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"Baby, it's time to get up."
You're too busy trying to sleep off a migraine to pay attention to Hazel stirring in bed or what she has to say. Even with an eye mask on, any stray refraction of light is enough for a splitting pain to reverberate in your head. You should have drank more water and less tequila last night.
Hindsight was always 20/20.
You and Hazel had met your friends at Mary's, a local gay bar a mile from campus. The bouncers never commented on the fake IDs you thrust in their hands every weekend and barely bothered to check them as they ushered you inside. Your best guess? They'd take every dollar they could get.
It was a small, hole-in-the-wall establishment, but it was fun enough for the group of you to drink, dance, and sing desperately off-key. It was your usual meeting spot on Thursday and Friday nights—sometimes Saturdays if you and Hazel had the strength to get out of bed in the morning—where you all could gossip about your professors and peers. You don't remember much from last night, but you do remember grinding on Hazel after downing three tequila sodas while Isabel bitched about her Econ professor, Mr. Weber.
You were now facing the repercussions of your debaucherous, dehydrated actions.
"Babe," Hazel tries again. Her disembodied voice is farther away now, most likely in the bathroom next door. "You're going to be late for calculus."
Who the fuck convinced you to take Friday classes? Let alone actually attend them?
Oh right. It was Hazel.
At least both of you managed to find off-campus housing at the end of sophomore year. If you had to share a bathroom with an entire floor again, you would have hung yourself with dental floss.
"Professor Hoyt can eat my ass," you grunt, grabbing your pillow and smashing it into your face. The next part of your sentence is so garbled that you can't even understand yourself. You hear Hazel's footsteps reenter your bedroom as the mattress concaves next to you. The pillow is nudged off your face and stray beams of light bury themselves back into your eye mask.
"She better not." Her breath fans against your cheek as you feel her nip playfully at your skin. "That's all mine."
Hazel can't see your exaggerated eye roll, but she feels the grin growing across your face. She mirrors it eagerly, pressing sweet, soft kisses down your cheek. You feel her lips ghost down your jaw before gliding down your neck. You hum quietly, reflexively tilting your head to the side to expose more flesh to her.
Hazel notices and firmly bites at the base of your neck. You moan, caught off guard.
"I can just ask Isabel for the notes after she gets out of Econ." It comes out as a whine as you feel Hazel shift on top of you.
"Mhmm," she mocks, her hands creeping under your nightshirt. Gingerly, she tugs it up and over your head before shoving it towards her side of the bed.
Her hot mouth reconnects with your skin, trailing down your chest, and kissing just over the curve of your breast. Her lips sink lower, enveloping themselves around your nipple as she sucks. Her hands slide up and down your body reverently before resting on your waist. You mewl, rutting your hips forward.
"Haze," you breathe but she ignores you.
Her lips pull away from your breast, kissing across your chest to give short, equal treatment to its twin. Whatever she was trying to do had the opposite effect on you; there was no way you were leaving this apartment when your girlfriend was too busy devouring every inch of your body.
Hazel kisses wetly against your skin as she begins her descent down your abdomen. Suddenly, she halts. Her nose brushes your navel and her mouth hovers just over your loins. She's so close to where you want her and you vocalize your frustration with a growl. Hazel's thumbs hook under the waistband of your underwear as her head sinks lower.
"Use your words," she teases, voice husky as she snaps the elastic band back into your skin.
You whimper, shoving your hips closer to Hazel's face. If you weren't so hungover, you would have clamped your thighs against her cheeks and squeezed. Hazel had a thing for breathplay anyway; she would have loved it.
"Put your mouth on my pussy."
"Yes ma'am."
Immediately, Hazel's hands grope the meat of your ass, tugging you toward her. Her lips kiss against your clothed cunt, her tongue poking out to kitten lick against the fabric of your underwear.
You exhale, squeezing your eyes shut as short, raspy moans push from your throat.
"Fuck yes," you sigh, wriggling your hips to steal more friction from Hazel's tongue. The coil in your stomach begins to tighten as heat radiates from between your legs. Your underwear is soaked from a combination of your slick and Hazel's saliva. You were embarrassed to admit it, but you were already nearing your first climax.
Apparently, Hazel has a sixth sense for impending orgasms because she realizes that too. Without another word, she detaches herself from your body. The bed creaks as she rolls off it. Her footsteps retreat to the other side of the room.
She's gone. You keen.
"Hazel, what the fuck?" Your thighs press together, rubbing feebly to try and salvage a lick of your previous pleasure. It's useless and you give up with a petulant huff.
The brunette chuckles from a distance, the sound growing louder as she returns to the bedroom. You rip your eye mask off, squinting for a full-fledged minute as your pupils adjust to the sunlight. After blinking feverishly, you stare at Hazel, now leaning into the doorway. A sheen of spittle and slick glows from her chin.
"You're up," she states obviously, her arms crossed over her chest. The way they press into her tits makes your mouth water.
"I've been up!"
She snickers.
"Good. Now you won't be late to calculus anymore."
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zyafics · 4 days
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play fake | part four
series play fake → part one here → part two here → part three here
pairing rafe cameron x female reader
summary when rafe cameron needs to secure a gf in order for his father to see him as a stable man, he enlists the help of a bartender who wants nothing to do with him.
content 18+, eventual smut, angst, fake-dating, jealousy, people-pleasing and independent! female reader, ward cameron pinning rafe and sarah against each other, rafe being an asshole
zya's notes thank u for all your lovely comments and reblogs, i love reading them sm! this one is going to be a long one too, so please enjoy <3
dedication also, this chapter is for @rivaiken iykyk ;)
𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃 ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚
The next couple of days have been radio silence. You don't try to communicate with Rafe and he doesn't try to communicate with you. You just throw yourself into your work, scolding to yourself how this was such a bad idea.
It wasn't meant to be a fuck relationship. It was meant to be fake. Nothing more than public displays of affection and going on to ignore each other behind the scenes. Rafe, himself, said that he wanted to continue doing all the shit he's doing now, just with you as a shielded layer of protection against his father.
Whenever you think back to that moment in the country club bathroom, your stomach recoils. Not because of the sex, but because of how willing you are. You always saw yourself as an independent person. Someone who can handle your own needs. You had to be; you grew up with no parental guidance and raised two younger sisters. You take care of people, you think of others. You handle everything yourself.
But you remember you were deep on your knees, ready to give him anything; when you were splay against the counter, begging him to make you come. God, you feel embarrassed by your own desire.
Maybe it's the control. Maybe it's because you're so used to it in the real world, for once, you want to give the reins to someone else. Especially in the bedroom. And Rafe perfectly takes it.
The only problem is he doesn't give it back.
Asshole.
You're behind the counter, telling Miranda about the new backlog of orders that the system hasn't placed, and a spill in one of the corners, when the bell rings, signaling the entrance of another customer.
"I'll be right with you!" You shout over your shoulders, quickly summarizing the last of the tasks for Miranda before turning to the new customer who walked in.
You plastered on your service smile, ready to take their orders.
Only to realize it was Rafe.
Your smile drops.
"What do you want, Rafe?" You ask pointedly, setting the towel down on the counter as he slides into the seat before you, a casual demeanor to his own presence.
"I need you to play the part again." He says, without so much as an apology or acknowledgement to what happened the other night. "It worked. My dad likes you."
"That's great," your voice is empty of emotions. "Are you coming here to tell me about what a perfect plan you made?"
"No," he shakes his head. "I need you to attend a party with me."
"Business?"
"No, at my house."
Your answer is immediate. "No," you say, shaking your head. "Can't make it."
"You don't even know what it is about."
"Let me guess," you cross your arms, pretending to ponder. "Your dad trusts you enough with me, so if he sees you and me at your party, he would assume I'll be able to control you and you won't push yourself over the edge?"
His reply is silent. That's how you know you're right.
"Guess my Pogue brain caught up fast enough."
You turn around to grab a small glass, pouring out a shot of tequila on the table before tipping your head backwards and taking it all in without a chaser. You need it for whatever this conservation is about to go. "I won't be able to go. I have a double shift."
"I haven't told you the day yet."
"I have double shifts all week," you declare sharply, the bitter taste burning your throat. You squint your eyes for a moment, readjusting, before you find his gaze again.
"I'll pay you."
"God, is this party that important?" You huff out of astonishment at his persistence. "The answer is still no. I don't want your money."
Rafe's brows furrow together. He doesn't understand why you're acting so cold to him. He came in with a good proposition; you wouldn't have to do any of those silly dinners with his father, all you had to do was make an appearance at a party long enough to satiate Ward and then you can do whatever the hell you want. Why are you being so difficult?
"What the fuck is your problem? Why do you have such an attitude?"
You laugh, abruptly, because this is so ironic and humorous to you that the sound rips out. The reckless prince, the man who received a collegiate degree from UNC Chapel Hill doesn't know what a Pogue is thinking.
You don't answer him, deciding to take one of the tasks off of Miranda's hands and clean up the spill yourself. It’s better than being cornered by Rafe. You move to the other side of the counter for the flip-door exit, stepping out from behind the booth.
Heading to the back to grab the supplies, Rafe follows you. Once you step into the backdoor, grabbing the mop, he slips in behind you, blocking the exit.
"You gonna talk or just avoid me all day again?"
You scoff. "That's rich coming from you."
His forehead wrinkles. He truly doesn't know. "What the fuck are you goin' on about?"
Having enough, you throw your arms out in frustration. "I'm talking about the fact that you're the one who fucked me in a bathroom after some problem with your dad," you snap, lashing out from all your pent-up anger. "You refused to talk to me. All you did was used me as your fucking toy."
He staggers back for a moment. Before a cruel smile appears on his lips.
"I remember you were begging for it."
You slap him.
It was so unprecedented, without thought, that it shocked the both of you. The next few seconds were quiet, too quiet, like it was a live wire waiting to spark.
Your voice is calm, almost deadly. "I want you to leave."
His anger comes back tenfold. It's almost a match made in hell; how your rage matches his, how he doesn't back down—but neither do you.
You were going to drive each other insane.
And some sick part of you liked it.
"When have I ever fucking talked to you, Pogue?" He snaps back with dark fury. "We're barely even friends. If I want to fuck you, and you let me, I'm taking it."
"Whenever you had a problem with your dad, you came to me, in this bar," you gesture out to the door. "You talked. I listened. That was the deal."
"We never said that in our relationship."
"Well, I'm putting it in," you declare. Approaching him, stepping a foot closer to close in the distance between the two of you. He doesn't move. He doesn't waver. He watches your step with heavy breathes, dark eyes. In a low breath, you warn, "you want to fuck other people? Fine. I don't care. You do that. They aren't the ones sticking with you, helping you with your dad. They don't have to carry the weight of you being you."
You know the last line was a hard hit, but it was true. You were tired of being seen as another Pogue, someone on the bottom of the litter meant to be used and thrown away. You need to make your stance firm.
"But if you want to fuck me," you conclude, pointing to yourself, "you talk to me, first."
He says nothing. Your anger is filling your adrenaline. It could also be the tequila. Whatever it is, you don't know what provoked you to say the next sentence.
"I wasn't on the pill, goddammit."
For a moment, sobriety reigns over Rafe's features. His eyes widened. "Did you—"
"I bought a Plan B, you asshole." You cut him off, not wanting him to think you're too stupid to think of the consequences. You knew. That's why you told him to pull out. "I wasn't going to carry your babies in me. But, it was expensive. Do you know how much that cost out of my paycheck?"
To him, that may seem like nothing. Nothing more than scraps rolling around his room, in his pockets that he could spare. But for you? That's money that could've gone to paying off your debt, to helping Sailor, to taking care of your siblings.
He remains silent.
You continue.
"You cover for me however you want. You host that party if you want to so fucking badly. But I can't do it. I have work."
You push past Rafe and he lets you, grabbing the mop out of the corner and stepping back into the open atmosphere of your bar. You may hate the noise that comes from the place, but it was better than being suffocated in a room with him.
Rafe quietly follows after you after you return behind the counter.
He looked like he wanted to say something more, but his words were not coming out. His gaze flicks to you, jaw clenched.
"I... I didn't know," his voice is a whisper, almost indistinguishable, that you can't help but let out a bitter chuckle.
"Yeah," you agree. "Because you refused to talk to me."
He says nothing, muted by his own anger, looking down at his hands, before he walks out of the bar. He doesn't bid farewell and you don't expect him to. All you know is he's going to get shit-faced soon and you had nothing to do with it.
As you are helping your little sister with her math homework—where all her struggles were about multiplication tables and recognizing whether a fraction is improper—you miss the early days of your life. Where you don't have to think about anything else.
About the bills. About the loans. About how to take care of your siblings.
About a stupid Kook prince you can't get out of your mind.
Your baby sister is seated on the couch, reading some children's book that you made a couple of years ago, stringed together with yarns and colored pencils. Her delicate voice echoes through the joint living room, sounding out the words on her own as she heard you read them million of times before.
Your sister, Amara, pulls you back to reality as she taps your arm, pointing to her problem on the kitchen counter that she's struggling with. She points to the question, reciting her logic of how she got there, and you return with praising her thought process but reminding her of her multiplication tables.
"Ohhhh," her voice drags, giggling at the realization. "I see."
You chuckle softly, laying your chin on her small shoulder and picking up your phone off the counter. While she fixes her mistake, you scroll through social media.
A notification flashes at the top of your screen.
topperthornton: hey
Why the fuck is another Kook sliding into your DMs?
you: hello?
He quickly responds, asking if you are your name.
you: why?
topperthornton: idk if u know but rafe is hosting a party tn
you: so i heard
topperthornton: well, you should come
you: i don't think so, white boy
topperthornton: it's rafe.. he's asking about u
Something in your chest sputters. You pretend it's not your heart.
you: ?? for what
You hope you didn't come off too eager. You don't want to be. You should be pissed, goddammit, but something about knowing Rafe, drunk right now, is thinking about you, makes you weak.
You hate it.
topperthornton: idk what happened between the two of u but he's drunk and crossed out of his mind and he's just been rambling about u
You stare at the text for a hot minute, before another one follows.
topperthornton: u need to come immediately
Fucking hell.
You know you shouldn’t. You just came out of a long, tiresome shift. You have siblings to take care of. You have a math problem that has yet been corrected. But, something in your chest caves. The idea that Rafe needs help, that he's asking for you specifically, and you aren't coming? Makes you uneasy. 
You have to go.
There's no other way around it.
Scrambling, you pull your Amara off your lap as you run out the door and race down the block. When you stop in front of Pope's house, you pound your fist against the door, praying someone is home.
It's Pope.
"Hey," he greets. "What's up?"
"I know this is last minute but I need you to watch the kids," you announce breathlessly. His eyes follow you, concerned.
"Everything okay?"
"It's fine," you wave off. "I just have to go somewhere and I don't know how long I'll be. Amara is doing her math homework and Leilani is just reading a book. They're really sweet, I promise."
Pope laughs you off casually. "I know," he says with a smile. "I've babysat them before."
"So," you string the words together slowly, hoping your anxiety isn't coming off too strong. You don't want Pope to feel obligated. "Can you... do it?"
He nods. "Of course. Pogues help each other out."
You smile, pulling him into a quick hug, before handing him the spare key to your house. He heads over to take care of your siblings while you run to your beaten-down car, reversing out the road.
When you arrived at Tannyhill, you truly underestimated how large the party was going to be. People crowded all over, dancing, swinging, just having a reckless and wild time at Rafe Cameron's place. While you know you should be slightly embarrassed by the long pajama pants and braless baggy tee you're wearing right now, feeling overdressed, you step out of the car and head inside.
Topper spots you at the porch.
"Thank God," he mumbles under his breath. "He's been out of it."
You wonder if Topper knows about your arrangement with Rafe.
"Yeah," you nod. "Where is he?"
"I put him in his room with some water but I gotta tell you, he's wasted. Some of the things he says... may not be tasteful."
You scoff. We've already crossed that bridge. "I think I'll be fine."
Without another word, Topper pulls away and you head up the familiar stairs of the estate, descending down the hallway you were here just days ago. It feels, for some reason, like a lifetime since you visited.
You knock on the door, twice, to no answer. Deciding to go for it—praying you won't walk into some lewd act—you step into the room to find it peacefully quiet. Rafe laid out on the mattress, his eyes closed.
You scan the room, trying to see if there's any destruction—any thrown chairs or broken bottles—to find everything in the same condition as you visited prior. The only difference is a pink bag, sitting in his drawer with a bouquet of flowers sticking out.
Your stomach twists in jealousy as you wonder who that could be for. At what fool is receiving such gifts or who gave him such.
When you peek inside, you notice a couple of things: a white envelope, a bundle of red tulips, and like ten-plus stacks of Plan B.
You stiffen your laugh. You realize the fool is you.
Butterflies erupt in your stomach.
The bed creaks and you jump at the sound, seeing Rafe pulling himself up on the mattress into a sitting position, rubbing his eyes to clear his vision, before he finds you, standing in front of him.
He says your name. He thinks he's hallucinating from the drugs.
"Yeah," you nod, cautiously approaching him as his glazed eyes follow your every move. "It's me."
"I thought you said you had a double shift."
He didn't mean for his words to come off so sharp.
"I locked up an hour ago." You explain, brushing past his aggravation.
Rafe nods at your explanation, but his movements are sluggish. Lag. He truly is out of it. You're surprised he went this hard.
His head hangs, staring at his lap, before he asks quietly. "What are you doing here?"
You shrug. You don't know either. You thought he needed help. The idea of him asking for you, but you weren't there for him, kills something inside of you. But, you can't say that. Not after everything you said to him. Not after what this relationship is based on.
You are nothing more than a fake girlfriend.
"Topper said you needed help," you evade any sense of responsibility. Of care. "He texted me."
His jaw clenches, and he looks up at you. "Top has your number?"
"No. He found my Instagram," you answer, wondering if that is jealousy you hear. But, you settle that it can't possibly be the case. "He DM'd me and I came over."
Now it's your turn to be vulnerable.
"I thought you needed help."
Rafe scoffs, bitterly, running a hand through his tousled hair. "Unless you can get this headache out of my heart, I don't think there's much you can do, sweetheart."
You nod, your feet shift to the door, ready to leave. If this is all, if that's all Topper is worried about, Rafe should be fine.
"Come here."
You find yourself listening. Again. Your feet pads against the hardwood floor as you streamline over to him, stopping just in front of his legs hanging off the ledge of the mattress. His head tilts up to meet your gaze; his cloudy blue eyes staring back at you. You bite back a thought.
"I know something that would make me feel better."
You scoff at the suggestive tone. "Let me guess: fuck?"
"Sit on my lap."
You hesitate for a moment. You don't want to be another fuck. But, when his hand lands on the side of your thigh, gentle and earnest, you relent.
Slowly, you settle onto Rafe's lap, both legs on either side of his waist. Your body facing him, and despite him in the lower position, he meets you at eye level.
"Better?" You tilt your head, watching his shoulders unwind every-so-slightly.
"Much." He murmurs, his eyes tracing your face. "God, you're gorgeous."
You flush, knocking a weak palm against his broad shoulder. "Shut up," you say, feeling anything but. You're wearing scraps for clothing, something you planned to go straight to bed—not attend an extravagant party hosted by one of the island's finest.
"I'm fucking serious." He snaps, but his voice doesn't have that hard edge. You blame that on the alcohol too. "I saw all those girls tonight. And yet, here you are, in your fucking pajamas and getting me hard."
You scoff, turning away. "So it does lead back to sex."
"No, it means that they pale in comparison to you," he cups your chin, gently, pulling your gaze back to him. "I'm serious, sweetheart. Believe me."
You're afraid that if you move up against his lap, coming closer, you would feel his erection. Not to mention, if you do, you don't know if you're going to start dry-humping him like you did the other day. But, you remain firm on your stance.
You're not going to let him fuck you unless he talks to you.
The atmosphere thins into a silence, as you take in the low hums of the downstairs party blasting in distant music.
"How was the party?" You ask, probing for a conversation starter. "Was it everything you dreamed of?"
He scoffs. "You're looking at it. I basically drank and smoked until I got sick."
His vices. At least you didn't have to hear about the women he hooked up with, if that's the case. Something deep inside of you hope there isn't.
You nod silently, finding your fingers tracing the outline of his shoulders, your nails scraping against his hot skin and trailing up the crook of his neck. Rafe lets his eyes flutter close for a moment, breathing in a shaky breath.
"Don't do that."
"Why?" You ask, genuinely curious. "I'm just tracing."
"Because anything from you right now feels good," he confesses quietly, and your breath caught in your throat. You hand stills. "Fuck, don't stop."
"You're going to have to give me one signal here, Rafe," you roll your eyes. "You can't say green and red light at the same time."
He pauses for a moment. Contemplating your words.
"Green," he whispers. "Definitely green."
You return to your outline of Rafe's silhouette. He lets you. He says nothing as you follow down to the curve of his arms, skimming against his defined biceps and the muscles instinctively flex under your touch. It made you smile. You pretend you aren't proud of it.
This is done in complete silence.
Then, out of nowhere, Rafe confesses, "I shouldn't have touched you like that."
You freeze. You knew immediately what he was referring to.
"I—I was out of it. I took it out on you."
He still doesn't get it.
You abandon your artwork and use both hands to cup the underside of his jaw, forcing him to tilt his gaze and look up at you. With a sigh, you say, "that wasn't the problem." Your eyes study his face, "it was the fact that you didn't talk to me or explain to me what happened."
His gaze is broken; so incredibly so. The whites of his irises are a faint shade of red, bringing out the deep set of his blue eyes.
"I need to know these things, Rafe." You continue gently. "It's not about me being nosy, or a bitch, or anything. If I'm getting into something with you, I need to know the full picture so I can help you." You swallow your voice as you mumble out the next one. "So you can help me."
You hope he doesn't know the strain in your tone, how hard it was to say those words. You hope he doesn't press on it.
"Okay." Rafe nods, dipping his chin into your palms. "I get it."
"Easier said than done, darling."
Rafe knows it is. He's been struggling to string words together before you came into his life, much less with you in it. But, he was willing to try.
He begins at the dinner. With a stumbled start, he explains how Ward doesn't think he was good enough for you.
You stop him to ask questions. "He said that?"
"No," Rafe shakes his head. "But it's the look on his face. It's—the way he acted. You should've seen how he looked at me when he complimented you, like I'll never compare."
You frown at those words; you didn't even notice.
When he satisfied your questions, Rafe continued on with his story. Rambling further. Each word spilling out easier than the last. He assumed it's because of the alcohol, or the drugs, or perhaps it was neither altogether and it was just you. All in all, he knew.
It was easiest to talk to you.
It reminded him of the bar. He put himself in that setting. His words tumbles out of him with the impression that you won't share it with anyone else. The idea that you were just you, a bartender, who probably had to deal with this shit a thousand-times-over with other talkative customers. That it was you, who he is confessing a vulnerable part to, without the retaliation of judgment.
Rafe breakdowns the comments Ward made. The little conversation they shared after dinner, when you were helping with the caterers. Your clothes. It all became too much to him; like he was the problem. That nothing he did was good enough. His mind was spiraling by that time and having nothing else to pour it into—the drinks, the drugs, the partying—all he had was you.
And he used that to his advantage.
You listen intently, nodding along and following his words without further interruption. Only on things you truly need to clarify. When he finished, even with his incoherent noises and words, something in his chest lightens. It feels more at peace.
You stare at him for a few moments, digesting the information. A protectiveness forms in the pit against your stomach because fuck Ward, you decided. Sure, there may have been admiration from your end about his ability to become a Kook but that means shit now. You hate how he treats Rafe. You hate how you didn't notice.
"God, your dad is a dick."
Rafe doesn't agree like you expect him to. His gaze hardens, like he can't stand you insulting him. You realized, in that moment, you crossed a line. That he may harbor all these hurt and anger and resentment, at the end of the day, it's still his father.
"Sorry," you mumble softly. "I didn't mean it like—"
"I know what you mean."
That came out with an edge.
You swallow, deciding that you should leave. Maybe you being here isn't the right decision. Your legs are starting to cramp from their overstretched position and the inside of your thighs burn from the overuse. You peel your hands off his shoulders and slowly will yourself off of Rafe's lap.
"I should go," you declare, glancing at the exit.
Something in his chest tightens. He wasn't mad. He just wasn't used to regulating his emotions, especially about his father. All he knows is that he doesn't want you to leave.
"Wait," Rafe declares as you pause in front of his bedroom door. He stammers for an excuse. "I never made you come."
Your eyes slightly widen from the suggestion. "It's fine," you say, even though, in that moment, a small part of you hated him for that. "I... I finished myself off when I got home."
The image of you, in your bed, alone, touching yourself to relieve your aches, does something to him. Both in guilt and in arousal.
"No," he raises from his bed, approaching you. Now, with him standing on his own two feet, he towers over you—dominating and intimidating. "It's only fair. I should give back."
"Rafe," you place a hand on his chest, laughing awkwardly, because you don't know how you feel about him pleasuring you. "It's fine. It's not a tit-for-tat thing. You don't owe me anything."
He feels frustrated again. That's not what he meant.
"Fine." He snaps. "You want my words? I want to make you come. I want you to feel as good as I did that day."
You stare at him, the air stolen from your lungs, not knowing what to say. Then, suddenly, an idea occurs to you and a sly smile rises to your lips.
"You want to help me come?" You ask sweetly, watching as he nods his head like an obedient dog. "Okay."
Your hands travel down to the hem of his pants, to his belt, and unbuckle them. Rafe's face conveys surprise, that you're so eager to accept, and when you pull out the leather strap, you stop. Just for a moment, you glance back, asking in confirmation. "My pleasure, right?"
He doesn't know what you're trying to do, but he nods anyway.
"Turn around."
Rafe does what you say. You take both of his wrists into one of your hands—a struggle that Rafe had to assist with—and pins them behind his back. Using the belt, you tie them together.
"Sweetheart..." His voice is low, unsure of how you're able to proceed, but the arousal travels through his body at the uncertainty.
"Trust me." You whisper, buckling them into a firm lock. When you walk back around to face Rafe, your panties dampen at the sight before you: him, standing tall, with his arms pinned behind him, almost helpless. "Sit."
Rafe takes the seat on the desk chair you pulled out, his bounded arms touching the back of the seat as his focus is pinned on you, standing before his bed.
You let out a shaky breath, excitement bubbling in your stomach at the idea of what's about to happen, before your fingers hook to the band of your pants, slowly pulling them down to your ankles. He watches every little move; like a strip tease catered specifically for him. Something he can see. Something he can't touch.
Rafe can feel his erection hardens in his jeans.
"What are you doing?" Rafe's voice is rough and once you step out of your pants, revealing the white panties underneath, he groans at the sight.
"I'm going to make myself feel good," you declare evenly, trying to calm your racing heart, "and you're going to watch."
His Adam's apple bobs. "How do I help?"
"I look at you as I do."
A complaint lodged in his throat but you caught it before he proceeded. "My pleasure, right?" You remind him, to which he, with great reluctance, nods.
You leave your shirt on, deciding it would be unnecessary to take off, and settle down on his bed. Your back pressed against the mattress, you position yourself comfortably in a way that allows Rafe to watch.
And he's watching.
"Are you going to use your fingers?" Rafe asks, deciding that he needs to talk to keep him sane.
"Mhm," you answer, spreading your legs. Arousal licks up your stomach as you feel the cool air brushes the inside of your thighs, raising goosebumps against your skin. You feel the urge to laugh to dispel some discomfort in your body, at how intense Rafe is studying you, but you choose not to. "I might only use two. It'll be tight."
Fuck, Rafe thought.
With a tentative hand, you brush your fingers against your panties, feeling your wetness forming a spot. The light touches ignites heat in your core and your eyes flutter close for a second.
"Look at me." Rafe commands, trying to regain some control. It doesn't work, but you listen anyway.
You watch him as you continue to stroke yourself, pressing against your clothed pussy, not quite entering, as a light coat of your slick covers your fingers. You tip your head back with a small moan.
"Sweetheart," he groans, "stop torturing yourself."
When he truly means to stop torturing him.
You pull your hand back and stuff your fingers into your mouth to cover with saliva, tasting the faintness of your arousal, before returning back to your pussy. Pushing the drenched fabric to the side, a forefinger slips inside easily.
A whimper escapes you, your back arching slightly from the intrusion of your touch. Rafe's breath hitches in his throat as he watches you steadily pump yourself, in-and-out with one digit. You focus on your own pleasure, how good it feels, with the heightened sensitivity of Rafe's attention all on you.
And he's fucking hard.
Rafe watches as you spread your wet folds, slipping in another finger to your tight cunt. It kills him that he can't do anything about it. 
"I bet my fingers would fill you more," he offers seductively, trying to remind you of his existence. That he can do it too. You laugh softly, not taking the bait. "What are you thinking about?"
"How good this feels," you whisper, hearing the sound of your wetness squelching in the air. You mewl. "You."
Rafe grunts at the confession. You try to keep your eyes set on him, to remember what you're doing, who you're doing it with, but the build-up is causing you to lose control and makes you close your eyes.
"Eyes." He demands, his voice sharper than before. You open them with great resistance, each second longer is a struggle to keep them focused on him. 
"Oh, god," you moan, quickening your pace as you connect your gaze with Rafe. The way he looking at you right now. It reminds you of the night at Topper's house, the time in the country club's bathroom. "Yes, yes, fuck."
He can't stand this. He's straining against his jeans, his cock painfully hard without any relief, while his wrists are bound and reddened by how tight you locked him in. How he's pushing against the leather, trying to break free.
You close your eyes again in pleasure. Your orgasm is getting close.
Rafe swallows hard. "You feelin' good, sweetheart?"
You nod eagerly, flicking your gaze back to him. "You enjoying the view?"
He clenches his jaw, not responding, but you can tell. The impressive outline of his bulge against his pants, how hungry his eyes are. How much he wants you.
It lights something carnal within you. You start to pump harder and faster inside your pussy, your moan growing louder and without inhibition; Rafe's very own porn show in front of him.
He has enough.
"I need to touch you." Rafe declares desperately, rising from his chair, his eyes never straying from the perfect image of you, on his bed, fucking yourself, writhing in ecstasy. "Come on, sweetheart, I can—fuck—I can make you feel so much better."
He's bargaining, goddammit.
A small laugh leaves you, mixed in with the sound of your own pleasure, and you don't acknowledge his comment. His pleads. He steps forward, closing the distance between the two of you.
Rafe growls out your name.
You glance up at him through a heavy-lidded gaze. "Hmm?" You say innocently, pulling your hand out of your pussy. His eyes glance down at your slickness glistening off your fingers, his chest tightening.
"Say yes." He demands weakly, his voice rough and filled with so much restraint, like he's seconds away from losing it. "Tell me I can touch you."
You pull yourself to your knees, bending before him, your smile full of satisfaction. "You want me that badly, baby?"
He doesn't even bother denying it anymore. "Yes."
"My pleasure, right, baby?"
"Fuck, yes," he groans. "Please."
You grin, bringing your wet fingers to his mouth and pressing it against his full lips. He takes you in, sucking your arousal clean from your hand, his eyes still on yours, and you, finally, finally nod.
"You can touch me."
Rafe breaks his belt buckle in one swift motion, surprising you, before his hands immediately cover your body, grabbing at any flesh he can find. His mouth claims yours, pulling you into a hungry kiss and pushing you back against the mattress as his weight pins you down.
"You can't get enough of me." You tease, moaning at how good he tastes, how you can taste yourself on him, and your fingers find his hair. When he breaks, his hard eyes land on your face.
"You don't know how fucking badly I want to punish you right now," he confesses lowly, his hand lowering to the space between your legs. "For torturing me like that."
"It doesn't feel good, does it?"
Rafe scoffs, capturing your cheeks in one large hand, squeezing them together. He runs the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip, mumbling, "this fucking mouth."
You provoke further. "You love it."
He doesn't answer you, silencing himself with a bruising kiss against your lips and sucking all the air out of your lungs. When his hand lands on your pussy, his fingers begin to run tight circles around your clit, causing you to arch into him.
"Oh, god," you moan into his mouth as he swallows the sound. Breaking from the kiss to glance down, he watches at how responsive your body is, how you're writhing under his touch, and smirks.
"Feels good?"
"So good," you whisper needily, "please keep doing that."
Rafe descends down your body, kissing a trail from the navel of your stomach to your wet cunt, aching and waiting just for him. "I'm going to make you come on my fingers, tongue, and face. Think you can do that for me, sweetheart?"
He doesn't give you time to answer, covering his mouth over your swollen nub and sucks.
"Oh, fuck," your hips involuntarily bucks against his face. He grins against your pussy, in satisfaction, at how good he's making you feel. At how good you taste. To be denied of this, for the past hour, was torture. He wants to pleasure and punish you, all in one. "Don't stop, don't stop."
Your legs wrap around his head in a lock as he ascends you towards your peak, slipping two thick fingers into your pussy. The size makes your walls clench around them. Rafe groans, the vibration against your clit pushing you further into your climax.
"Please don't stop, please." You moan in desperation, afraid of him pulling out again, tipping your head back against his pillows, your fingers gripping his hair harder. Rafe twists his fingers, entering at a new angle, allowing the cool sensation of his ring against your hot cunt and amplifies your sensitivity.
"I'm not going anywhere, baby."
Rafe quickens his pace, his fingers thrusting in with precision and hitting all the right spots. In addition, he slurps harder, tonguing your clit in a way that causes stars to blanket your vision. Writhing in pleasure, you moan and whimper, racing towards your orgasm. 
"Come for me," he commands, feeling your walls twitching towards a desperate end, “let me hear my girl."
You release with a heavy cry, coming on his face and slumping back against the bed from pure exhaustion. Combined with the day you had, the double shifts you've been pulling, and the incredible orgasm you're given, all you want to do is sleep.
"Get up," Rafe declares, but you don't move. "Come on, sweetheart."
"Give me five minutes," you yawn, holding out five fingers while your eyes flutter. "I just need to..."
You don't finish your sentence, closing your eyes for a brief moment. That's what you tell yourself, and the last thing you remember before you fall completely in your slumber. 
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heesuncore · 10 months
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PRÉCIS: everyone knows you are jay’s girl, just like everyone knows he lets jake fuck you sometimes too.
PAIRING: jay x fem!reader x jake.
GENRE: smut + a little bit of angst.
RATING: rated r — [MINORS DNI.]
WARNINGS: sex in the club bathroom, choking, face slapping, facial, cuckholding, jay records you and jake in the bathroom [pre-established consent], sex in the backseat of your boyfriend’s car, oral sex, degradation, creampie, y/n and jake struggle with their feelings for one another, keeping secrets, ‘betrayal’ overall a angsty, smutty fic tbh. [let me know if i missed anything]
WORD COUNT: 2,670k.
the rumors of you sleeping with jake behind jay’s back were always humorous, not only were they wrong, this union between the two of you would have never happened if it weren't for your boyfriend in the first place. you can’t even begin to count on your hands the many mornings you’ve woken up to jay gone but of course his roommate was balls deep inside of you. sex with jake always made you feel scandalous, even with the times where jay just sits and watches as his roommate works you up high and tears you apart.
tonight wasn't any different compared to any other night when the three of you went out, whether it was a bar, the park, a museum, the three of you would always find a way to have fun. you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling as jake led you out onto the dance floor in the middle of the club, leaving your boyfriend to quietly watch from the bar. your eyes never leaving his as you dropped it down low and rolled your hips up slowly to press firm against jake’s crotch.
a playful smirk danced upon your boyfriend's lips. he lifted his shot of tequila and tipped it in your direction in a manner of approval before he tossed the liquor back. jake’s hands were busying themselves with the fabric of your fishnets, he spun you around to face him, pulling you tight against his chest as he made eye contact with his roommate. an exchange of dumb smirks and knowing nods, you didn’t know what you were in for tonight but they did, they always did.
jay disappeared from sight as the two of you danced for what seemed like hours, jake constantly trying to ignore the way his cock would throb and twitch from the soft touch and pressure of yours hips. he dropped his head down to press his lips lightly against your ear.”let’s go to the bathroom, there’s something you gotta help me take care of.” you rolled your eyes playfully and laughed, you could tell he was hard as a rock the instant the three of you had gotten into the club.
“lead the way, im sure jay won’t mind, he never does.” little did you know he was already waiting in the stall of the bathroom for the two of you, the top buttons on his shirt popped open, with his phone in hand, he wanted to get his pretty slut on video taking cock from his friend. the instant the metal door creaked open, all you could hear was the heavy breathing shared between the two of you and the quick rush to lock the door.
jake threw you up against the wall, lips latching onto your neck as he lifted your leg up to coil around his waist. your eyes rolled as you moaned, his hands digging into the fabric of the fishnets ripping a hole right under the entrance to your core. your panties were already soaked and stuck in between your folds, you mewled as he effortlessly tore them apart the thin strands of fabric hitting the floor.
jay got off on torturing himself, his cock was hard and strained against his slacks but instead of beating himself off he would rather ruin you later in the back seat of his car. he just stood there and quietly watched, camera zoomed in to capture your body as you trembled. he watched as jake freed his thick, hard cock from the confines of his jeans. he roughly slapped the head against your clit, groaning as he teasingly slid it within the folds, lust filled eyes on you as he gathered up your juices.
jake leaned forward and captured your lips in a kiss, not even giving you the grace of a warning as he stuffed every single last inch of his cock inside of you in one go. thank the skies that the music was too loud in the club, no one could hear you scream as you melted against the wall.
your hands shook as you gripped onto the fabric of his shirt, deep voice penetrating your ears as he whispered.”you are such a fucking slut, you know that right? look at you, all limp, wet and pathetic for a cock that’s not your boyfriends. you love this don’t you?” every thrust was long and cruel, his cock repeatedly ramming into your core as you felt tears start swelling up in your eyes. every word sticking to you like post it notes on a wall.
“y-yes, i love it, im a slut, im a slut.” you whimpered and whined as you moaned over and over. he roughly jostled your body into whatever position he wanted, his cock dipping in, reaching far enough that it almost felt like he was deep in your stomach. you could forget about walking out of here with a face full of perfect makeup, you could feel the mascara rolling down your cheeks as your nails roughly dug into his arms. your head rolling back to rest against the wall, eyes fluttering shut.
jake took that chance to wrap a hand around your throat, his eyes darting back to look into the crack of the stall. he smirked as he squeezed down on your throat, your choked out sounds of trying to gasp for air made his cock twitch and throb. his cock plowed through you without mercy, his eyes trained on jay the entire time. you may have been his roommates girlfriend but you and your pussy was his to use whenever he had wanted.
his eyes slowly trailed back over to gaze upon you, groaning as your walls clamped down around him. he loosened the grip he had on your throat, his thumb swiping away the tears before his other hand came down across your face. he knew how much you loved to be used and slightly bruised. your back instinctively arched up off the wall as he made you look at him. his hips snapping forward at an animalistic pace, he knew you were close to cumming he could feel it as your walls sucked him in.
you cried in pleasure and frustration, your hands running up to cup his face pulling him in for a kiss as you ascended up into the atmosphere. your walls spasmed as you came on his cock, gasping as he dug in deep, he helped you ride out your high before he pulled out.”you are always so pretty when you cum from me, now i want you to open your mouth and hold out your tongue for me, be a good girl and swallow every last drop, hm?” you gave him a hazy smile, nodding as he roughly pushed you down onto your knees.
you were beyond ruined but it was okay, you enjoyed how he made you feel. your gazed up at him, mouth open wide, tongue pushed out waiting for the tasty gift of his cum. you watched him as he stroked himself over your face, the clear sign of sweat in his bangs as he groaned. his eyes rolled as ropes of cum came flying out to paint your face. you were so far gone you didn’t even hear the click of the bathroom stall opening.
you smiled and moaned as you licked at your lips, blushing at how much had missed your mouth. jay was standing off to the corner, catching you by surprise. he had an unreadable expression on his face. him and jake exchanged another look before the two of them started laughing.”you put on such a good show for me, princess. do you love when jake fucks you?” he took a step closer, grabbing a few wet paper towels as he helped to wipe your pretty face clean.
“you two planned this, didn’t you? you were in there the whole time, honey?” you blushed at the thought, he had always watched the two of you together, he was the perfect boyfriend who didn’t harbor any feelings of jealousy because with jake it was just lust but with jay you loved him with all of your heart. you smiled happily as your boyfriend leaned down and pressed a kiss onto your lips, pulling you up onto your feet as jake cleaned himself up, tucking his cock back into his jeans.
you didn’t miss the sight of the bulge that your boyfriend was rocking, you smiled as your fingers ran over it.”you didn’t cum yet.” jay smirked as he dug his hand into the pocket of his slacks as he grabbed his car keys, tossing them over to jake. the other blew a kiss in your direction before he disappeared to bring the car around.”you are going to take care of me while he drives, is that okay with you, my love?” you gave him a big happy smile, nodding as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, he pressed kisses all along the nape of your neck. the two of you making your way through the madness of the club and out onto the sidewalk.
jay didn’t waste anytime as he opened the door to the backseat of the car, he nudged you forward with his knee smiling as you fell face forward into the seat. he pushed your legs in, giving your thighs a playful smack as he climbed in behind you, door slamming shut on its own.”try not to crash my car by watching, you can watch the playback of your own performance later.” jake playfully rolled his eyes, he turned to gently press a kiss onto your cheek before your boyfriend tugged you away.
his legs were spread wide in front of you, cock begging to be freed. you kept your eyes on his as you popped open the button and tugged down the zipper, pulling down his jeans and boxers just so they could rest comfortably below his knees. his eyes sparked with something so sinful, he could gaze at you like this forever and you’d melt every single time. his hand reached up to gently comb through your hair, bunching it up at the root as he slapped his cock against your cheeks and lips, his teeth burrowed into his bottom lip as he whispered.”open.”
the clear obedience you harbored was something that riled him up the most, plush tiers parted, jaw extending until your tongue laid flat, mouth and throat ready to receive him. you could hear the shift in the brakes, jake trying his hardest to not steal another glance in the mirror. for a moment he could see the way jay’s eyes had rolled into the back of his sockets. breathy groans falling from his lips as he fucked your mouth slow and deep, he loved to hear you choke and gag, wanting to savor the moment but he was already on the verge of exploding.
the point of view had quickly changed, the sweet grace of a red light allowed jake to get lost in your realm of lust and sin all over again. he shuddered as jay shoved every inch of his cock into your mouth, until your nails clawed at his thighs to allow you to come up for air. he was jealous, he already had his turn but his cock craved to just have another dip inside your sweet, tight cavern. if it weren’t for the excessive honking jake would sit and watch for hours.
his shaky hands gripped the steering wheel as he pulled off from the light. the other two sinful sex demons too busy picking each other apart to notice anything else outside their bubble. jay had managed to maneuver your body in any position he had wanted. your legs were spread over each side of his thighs, your back pressed flush against his chest. you both gasped as you sunk down onto his cock, the desperate twitching sending chills rolling up your spine.
his lips trailed their way up to your neck, fingers busying themselves with your clit as you both worked in tandem. if you dropped down he was snapping his upwards to collide with your own. your moans intoxicated every space in the car, pussy juices making a mess of his thighs and the leather seats.
your eyes rolled up to stare right into the mirror, your mouth open as you caught jake’s hungry stare just for a moment. your walls tightened, whimpering as your love worked you over with his index and middle fingers. at this rate the car would probably crash and you wouldn’t have cared as long as you both had gotten the chance to cum.
each thrust got rougher, and your mind got hazier you couldn’t take it much longer already so worked over from the previous sweet battering of your pussy by your other lover. jay brought his hands down to interlock with your own, you both moaned over and over, streams of tears rolling down your cheeks as he sheathed himself to the hilt. you rolled your hips slowly against him, wanting to milk him for everything he had. spurt after spurt he stuffed you full of his cum, the two of you were so caught up in that high to even realize the car had finally come to a stop.
labored breathing, and sloppy kisses was all that could be heard before jake’s voice cut through the thick air.”i don’t ever want to drive again if it means i have to torture myself by watching through a tiny mirror.” his brows furrowed, the three of you erupting into laughter as your boyfriend carefully slid you off of his lap. you leaned forward and pressed a kiss onto jake’s cheek, fingers running along his jawline.”after i get some rest you can have me in the morning, okay?” you looked at both of them before nearly jumping out of the car to run inside, you adored them both but they took the longest fucking showers.
jay looked over at jake and sighed as he combed his fingers through his hair. their dynamic was surely different but it seemed to work well for the three of them. jake contemplated asking but he just had to know that everything was still okay between all of them.”are we still good?” jay smiled as he cleaned himself up, worrying about the state of his seats for another time.”yea, man, we are all good.”
you could count on almost every day of the week being exciting for you, the three of you were closer than ever but a part of you felt like jake was starting to care for you more than he should. your boyfriend had one rule, “don’t fall in love with each other” that should be easy, right? no you were wrong the mutual yearning to be something more grew with every passing day.
you continued to laugh and smile around the two of them, wondering what you should do about your feelings. you could feel the change between you and jake. he was becoming more domestic and sweet whenever jay wasn’t around. he would hold your hands and stare into your eyes for too long. even the sex was more passionate. he stopped calling you names and started telling you how much he had adored you. how much he wished that the two of you could have a stronger connection that didn’t just involve having sex.
your boyfriend gave the two of you one rule to follow and it was broken the instant he had uttered ‘i love you’ and you said ‘i love you too’. the two of you kept that sweet little confession to yourselves and tossed it into the imaginary box of the things your boyfriend doesn’t know about. you decided to savor these moments while they lasted, jay was far from dumb he would probably find out sooner or later.
♡ please be sure to like, reblog and comment if you enjoyed this, it would be greatly appreciated, thank you. — honey.
PART TWO: ROUND AND ROUND.
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bettysupremacy · 10 months
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Your girl
Rockstar!Remus x reader
summary: Remus finds his girl in the backyard of a party, alone.
word count: 1.8k words
a/n I’m not satisfied with this but oh well!
The once bustling, loud, party now seems dimmer and less intense as he cautiously walks away into the silent of the night.  He can hear the wet asphalt crunch beneath his boots, the brushing of wind flowing past his ears. It’s quiet and calm the way it is after a rain, but something sticks in his tummy. A nerve, an upset, a fear, he might find his girl out here alone. 
“Sweetheart?” His voice is louder than he intends in the quiet of this fancy backyard, and it has his nose wrinkling. “Y/N, honey, are you out here?” And god, he prays she isn’t. Alone. Tipsy drunk. He walks on. 
The show before this had been loud and packed. A bustling crowd, bigger than they had anticipated. 
He can’t pretend he hadn’t been aching to see her in the crowd, that sweet longing she pulled from him so many times before, but she hadn’t wanted to accept the tickets initially. Guilt gnawed at her for not paying the 429 pounds other floor guests fought for. But, as Remus had said, special tickets for a special girl.
Here now, he feels the same ache he felt when he couldn’t find her in the crowd. Sick and pounding as he turns the twists and winds of a path through the tall gaudy flowers and statues. It’s a nightmare, really, but finding her on the floor, in her white sundress, unbothered by the way the wet floor stains into the pearly cloth, is even more so.
“What are you doing out here, honey?” 
The party grows louder and Remus prays they don’t bring it outside. It’s private out here and Remus likes that. Quiet of the eyes of fans he’s collected over his hard work and music, private of Sirius who dragged his friends to this after party, and James who’d surely tease. 
She turns, startled at the intrusion, her head spins. Was she supposed to be dizzy whilst sitting? “Doesn’t it just taste fresh out here?” 
He inhales deeply, playing along, though it really does taste fresher out here. “I guess it does.” He takes a moment. The air between them is quiet again. “You’ll stain your pretty dress.” 
She shrugs. He’ll just give her his jacket anyways. “Tired, my feet hurt, want another drink.”
He laughs. “In that order?”
“Tired, cause my feet hurt, ‘nother drink, cause it’ll fix it.” She fixes. He grunts as he sets himself in front of her. She can’t admit how happy this makes her. He takes her arms in his hands. “Liked your set.”
“Yeah?” He tilts his head. His thumbs press right below the crease of her elbows. It has her greedy, selfish for more. She wants more.
“Yeah. You looked hot onstage.”
He laughs a startled laugh, it’s slightly disheveled, but the fact that she made him smile is an accomplishment in itself she thinks. “Thank you.” She looks down at where his fingertips dance over her outstretched arms lightly. Up and down, he traces patterns into her skin.
“Feels good.” She mumbles. 
“I know. Lets get you inside, yeah?” He pauses his ministrations on her arm. “Lily was worried sick when she couldn’t find you.” 
Lily wasn’t the first to notice she’d been missing, but Remus can’t bare to tell her he’d been looking for her in a group of people practically begging to get a word in to him. 
She grabs his wrist, slightly pushing him to keep his gentle rubbing. “You weren’t?”
“Darling, you know I was the most worried.” It’s true.
“Wanna stay out here.” She breathes, almost ignoring his dangerously romantic profession. 
“Why?” 
“S’nice.” Not because this is the first time she’s been alone with him in weeks. Not because when she’s around him it gives her the biggest head rush she’s ever experienced. It mixes with the alcohol and she can’t tell which is which. Is it the tequila shots Mary coaxed her into doing, or is it the 6’3 bassist crouched in front of her like a giant trying to befriend human?
He sighs, shrugging off his jacket. “Can’t let my girl freeze to death.” 
And the thing about it is, it’s so simple to say what you want when you’re not thinking about it. Right? Cause if he had caught himself, If he had thought before his word choice, he wouldn’t have let that Freudian slip, slip.
Her face does something funny as he helps her arms through the arm holes. 
“What’s it?” His eyebrow cocks. 
“Your girl?” 
He scoffs out a disbelieved laugh. “Oh, that you pick up?” He stands up, unable to look at his jeans in fear of the grass stains he’d see on them. She might have his jacket but he surely doesn’t. “Up, lets get you inside.” 
She doesn’t give him her hands. “Your girl, Rem?” 
“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” He gruffs, shaking his hands a little, hoping she’ll catch the memo and use his weight to pull herself up. Except she doesn’t. She grins this big dopey smile, eyes crinkling as she hides her alcohol pink cheeks from Remus. 
“Wanted to be your girl.” 
He feels as if his brain has lagged. “You are my girl, gorgeous.” 
Her chest feels tight with an emotion only he can pull from her. “Am I?” 
“Why’d you think I’ve been calling you every night for months?” 
“Thought you wanted someone to flirt with.” 
“Babe,” he frowns at the admission as he crouches down again, “I’ve been flirting with you because you’re my girl.” 
“Oh.” 
His chest cracks a little. His warm dry hands find their way to her cold cheeks, they’re worn and rough from his bass. “What made you think that?”
“I dunno.” She trails off.
“You didn’t come to that conclusion by yourself.” He shakes his head and she shrugs. “Tell me when you’re sober. Though I fear you’d be more honest with me now.” 
“Mary said something,” she starts, before pausing, letting him use his weight to pull her off the ground. “She said ‘if a boy likes you, you know.’ And I could never tell with you.”
“You couldn’t tell?” 
She huffs a laugh, dramatically putting her body weight on him, hugging his chilly torso. “You’re kinda hard to read, Rem.” 
He stands there as she nuzzles her cheek in his chest. His hands splay on her back and he feels her smile. “We can talk more about this tomorrow.” She nods. She revels in the newness of this level of affection.
“Can I show you a patch of flowers I saw when I fell earlier?” Her head tilts up to look at him.
“You fell?!” 
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roronoaswifey · 1 year
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𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑!𝐀𝐂𝐄…
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pairing. portgas d. ace x f!reader
warnings/tags. explicit content, alcohol consumption, substance consumption, mentions of past cocaine consumption, sex under the influence, mentions of groupies, dubious snap of reader’s facial, ace has tattoos and a tongue piercing, and reader has nipple and belly piercings.
kazu’s note. i’ve been on guitartok for months now. sorry but i’m definitely projecting here 👁️‍🗨️
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𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑!𝐀𝐂𝐄…
who’s been trying for months to get you to come to at least one of his gigs. he sees you around quite often since you’re good friends with his younger brother, and figures it’s a good enough excuse to get you to see him in his element. but whenever he tries to corner you in the kitchen and shoot you an invitation, you always turn him down with a gentle shove as you make your way around him, claiming rock music simply isn’t your style.
who’s determined to make rock music your style. on days where he isn’t seen performing in front of crowds, he’s back home with his brothers, where he knows you’ll eventually be. with his electric guitar set in place and firm in his grasp, his fingers drum at the strings as the chords flow into a riffing melody. he works and practices really hard into his music, so the thin layer of sweat coating his inked chiseled body is nothing unexpected. though, what does seem to catch him a little off guard is seeing your figure leaning back against his bedroom door, closing the wooden piece behind you, arms crossed over your chest with your cup of coffee resting at your lips. your eyes tell a tale; you’re interested, and he’s all in for it.
who after a series of brutal and long months, finally manages to get you to see him perform. he’s more pumped than usually, his band mates notice, as he pregames with lots of tequila shots. he ignores the looks he gets from his stylist, focusing on the way he’s going to need his wavy hair tied back into a bun if he’s going to end this night with what he’s wanted with you for the longest. he can only smirk, the bitter taste of booze lingering on his tastebuds, setting his body ablaze in major contrast to the cool feel of the ball of steel pierced through his tongue.
who gives it his all the second he shows up on that stage. the adrenaline running mixed with the shots he took earlier has him feeling on edge, calloused fingers expertly drumming at chords as he sings through the mic, his voice roaring into the stadium. through the immense crowd, he spots you in the middle of his younger brother and friends. dressed in a skimpy black outfit, a smirk is pulled onto your lips as you bob your head to the rhythm. it’s a tune you’ve heard him practice before, so surely it stuck to you, but seeing you in person right before him made his blood run a mile a second, and god he wanted to take you backstage and make a mess out of you.
though the performance is over and he’s greeting fans and groupies, he’s now got his wife beater on with some grey sweats. he’s usually thrilled to meet his supporters, but his mind is entirely consummated by you. he wants you wrapping your arms around his neck, snuggling your soft breast into his chest, arms wrapped around his waist as you giggle and congratulate him on his show. he could care less about the groupies that always come to see him, and he’s far less interested in getting their pussies in favour of yours. he even decides to refuse the mini plastic cocaine bag he’s usually quick to snatch, since he had absolutely no business entertaining them, when he only wanted you.
rolling up papers into blunts after his gigs, slightly drained from hours of performing despite the buzz mowing at his brain. he’s finally backstage, bringing the blunt up to his mouth to lick at the paper when you show up amongst your friends, congratulating him for his outstanding performance. he knows this all, though he still thanks their support, but most of all he wants to hear it from you, wants to know what you have to say since this was your very first experience after all.
watches as you walk up to him, breast spilling in your tight top, leaning forward to snatch the rolled up spliff and placing it between your lips. you grab a lighter from your cleavage, spark it up and blow the smoke in his stunned face. “not bad.” you chuckle with low lidded eyes, before placing the blunt back into his parted mouth. your friends are long distracted, busy bothering his other bandmates, but ace couldn’t be bothered enough to care about them. not when he feels the sudden urge to pull you onto his lap, to feel the heat of the warmth of your legs straddling over him, and grab a strong hold onto your ass beneath your taunting miniskirt. the sloppy kiss he receives in consequence to his actions aren’t unexpected.
who feels his pants tightening painfully hard at the sounds you make when his jewelled fingers come to wrap around your throat, drool pooling at the corner of your mouth from the ball of steel in his tongue clashing with the roof of your mouth. he can taste the casamigos in the warm cavern, figured he shouldn’t be too surprised since he himself is quite buzzed, but wishes everyone would fuck the hell off somewhere and let him get what he’s wanted forever.
who puts you in every fucking position. from your sweaty bodies grinding into one another on the couch, to having you pressed up against the wall and pounding into your tight cunt, to have you bent over his vanity and watching from the reflection of the mirror as he pounds into you, teeth nipping at your neck. you fuck like wild animals, the bottle of tequila uncapped by his fangs and poured into your open mouth as you moan at the alcoholic taste. once he’s assured you’ve got a good fill, he’ll poor the rest of the contents on your sinful ass, watching the liquid lubricate your ass cheeks, the recoil from the forced point of contact between both your bodies only amplifying as tequila splashed between you both. the whine you let out when a rough hand comes to slap your slippery ass cheeks is incomparable to any tune he’s ever heard.
who has you pushed up against the wall, legs wrapped around his neck and rested onto his shoulders, as he eats you out like his life depended on it. you tasted so fucking good, more intoxicating than any booze he’s had in his life, and the way your acrylics run deep into his scalp tugging so harshly onto his hair as you moan and whine for more, messing up his bun and watching as the locks fall out of place. his tongue drags up and down your lips, mouth salivating as his spit drools past his lips and past your pussy onto the floor, sloppily getting his worth of fill, grinding his erection into the wall as he awaits on his sweet reward that’s bound to splurt on his face if he nibbles at your clit— “just like that.” spraying him in the face with your essence.
who pulls out his phone with a deep groan and snaps a picture with the flash on of your cum covered face, sat on your knees with his dick tapped against your pink tongue, the wet muscle wrapped all over his tip as you milk him of his worth. the pearly white droplets may have ruined your makeup entirely, but ace isn’t sure he’s seen a prettier sight than this. you, allowing him to finish his load onto your skin, in which he can’t help but stretch an arm and smear his nut on your face with his thumb, to which you so gracefully slip in the digit in your mouth and moan, which definitely hardens his dick back into place.
who’s seated on the couch, blunt pressed at his lips as he watches you bounce up and down his cock, riding and milking him for what he’s worth. he’s already on edge, can barely stand the sight of your pierced nipples bouncing in sync at your hips’ movements, so he distracts himself by bringing his mout around a bud and his large hand cups the other mound. he moans against the jewel, his own tongue piercing clashing against the pretty heart shaped diamond and his silver ring brushing against your other hardened nipple. the blunt now in your mouth, you grind back and forth as you let the ecstasy ripple through your body, smoke filling in your lungs and clouding your mind, your clit bumping against his pelvis when you lean down at a specific angle.
definitely places a drumstick into your mouth, to gag you up as he fucks into you. he doesn’t want to muffle your beautiful sounds, he honestly doesn’t care if the whole audience hears the way you crumble on his dick. he just can’t help the way he feels waves of arousal ripple through his limbs all liquidy hot, when he seems the dazed look in your eyes, jerking up from each intense snap of his hips rutting into you. your knees touch your ears, your anklet chiming right at his own ear, as he presses a kiss into your ankle. in consequence, he decides with a jewelled hand wrapped around your neck, a new angle in his rough thrusts, that he’s going to record your fucking moans one day and put it as adlibs in a track.
who pulls out and watches as his cum trickles down your fucked out pussy, staining his couch white of evidence. with two fingers, he grabs the sticky substance and shoves it back into you, eyes nearly rolling back at the broken cry you let out, body all sensitive from back to back orgasms. still, he has a mind of his own and very selfish desires, and simply cannot let you go after tonight. you’ve given him a teasing taste, and he knows he’ll be back for more.
who reaches to grab your phone and unlocks it with your face id, before punching his own number in it and ringing himself. he needs you to come back after this, he’s not sure how he’s managed to survive without you here with him this entire time, but it’s never too late to try. he wants you seated in vip, supporting him and filming him up on stage as he finally has the heart to sing the songs he’s dedicated for you, and to be able to carry you into his backstage room and fuck you yet again endlessly. yeah, sounds like a dream but as for now, he’s good with resting his head onto your chest and listening to your steady heartbeat as it lulls you both into sleep.
bonus point++ definitely gives you an personally signed autograph of his name in black permanent sharpie right above your pussy and below your pierced navel, marking your gaping cunt as his forever and always.
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ignore how i barely talk abt him being a rockstar and i mainly just wanted to write smut for ace <3
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forthelostones · 7 months
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inna good way ─── ⋆
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⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚🍸 fem!reader x college!ellie 🍸⋆୨୧˚ ⋆ ˚。
" 'cus you make me wanna cry in a good way"
synopsis: it was the day before graduation and your ex-best friend threw a party. you visit and see if there's something left.
warnings. 18+ (mdni); soft ellie, fluff(?), suggestive language, jealousy, abby ft, smoking/drinking, mentions of insecurities, & grinding. sfw!!!
an: hi everyone, thanks for all the love on my other works! that means a lot to me, make sure if you like my writing to make suggestions! (p.s. i'm drinking wine & missing uni sooo)
(no y/n)
♪ playlist: palace/curse, i. the party, in a good way, 2 AM . ♪
#normalgirlsyndrome
wc: 3.1k
you were staring at your phone at the edge of your mattress in your college apartment. boxes had been packed, the bed once in a frame on the floor, and your gown hung over your closet door. you knew ellie was throwing a party tonight at her house and you couldn’t refuse the opportunity to go. although you didn’t have a choice because your roommates insisted you had one last night together. so, before you taped up your boxes, you pulled out your traditional going outfit, ready to hit it one last time. you were already tipsy from the four glasses of white wine you inhaled while doing your makeup. you tapped through ellie’s story ferociously over and over. she had been posting videos of her smoking a joint and playing beer pong, waiting for people to show.  you couldn't help but smile at her sweet face.
you felt a twist in your stomach as you thought about seeing her again. of course you had seen her around campus and waved, but things had gotten more awkward than you’d both admit. the relationship turned dry but you remember the touches of her hands on those random “dates” that she refused to acknowledge. they were so sweet and soft, you yearned for more, especially the nights when you were alone touching yourself in your bed wishing it were her. she refused that she had any feelings for you after a seldom walk near the lake where the stillness of the water was louder than her lack of words. “I just thought we’d be better as best friends lovey,” she told you. her mouth said one thing but her eyes said another, you were sure she was lying. you saw her around with dina, her on-and-off girlfriend, wondering what she had that you didn’t. you picked yourself apart one random date ago while you cried and stared at her photos on instagram. you found yourself reopening those wounds as you began to head for the door. 
the smell of sweating bodies and weed cause your lungs to tighten, forcing a cough out of your throat. your heart became tight at the thought of seeing her, you couldn’t quite place why. so many memories flood your head — remembering the sound of her guitar trilling through the night on her back porch, where she sang your favorite songs to you. her fingers meticulously tracing the guitar's neck, making it perfect for you. you fell into the corner you typically shove yourself into, as your friends handed you a red cup with a clear liquid that smelled like tequila. 
you took it straight, not caring about the consequences. your throat burned with sweet satisfaction, once the liquor dropped into your belly, you felt sweat bulb to your top lip. they handed you another, this time with a lime, and you noticed abby, the captain of the rugby team eyeing you. this wouldn’t have been the first time you caught her staring. you flutter your heavy lashes in her direction as you bite your lower lip ever so slightly. abby was attractive, she was fit beyond belief and you could imagine the type of positions she could put you in with no effort. she started making a stride towards you in her all black ensemble. 
a text hits your home-screen, it’s ellie.
come smoke. 
you ignore the message as abby comes beaming with a smile. 
“hey pretty.” she muttered. 
i know you’re here come onnnn. 
ellie knew you only smoked with her, she wouldn’t ask you otherwise. so, you grab abby by the hand and grin right back at her. “you wanna come smoke with me?” you ask, not really giving her a choice. 
was your intent to make ellie jealous… no… but yes, because you were only just friends. abby follows your lead naturally towards the back patio glimmering brightly ahead. you both slip past the kitchen, through the sliding doors where ellie is chatting with her roomates, and you wave at her. she’s not blitzed yet, so she has a smug look on her face when she sees abby. her twisted face is illuminated by the fairy lights gleaming softly around the perimeter of the porch. 
“hey els," abby says. 
“hi you.” you said, reaching directly for the blunt in her hand. 
her eyes scan your body, she loved when you wore that outfit, as you bent down she snuck a look at your breast, clearly spilling out of your top. abby sits in the wooden lawn chair just parallel of ellie and you perch yourself in her lap, her hands automatically coming around your waist. they were bigger than they seemed and you felt a heat patch warm your core. ellie could never hide her facial expressions, she attempted to not turn to look, instead, she turned her chair. 
beer?” she asks abby. 
“yes please. thanks.” abby replies. 
“make me something.” you demand. 
ellie sets her jaw and moves slowly into the kitchen past a herd of people. you bring the blunt to your lips, sucking in, holding, then exhaling away from abby’s face. she was watching you intently, noticing how your lips puckered. you turn to her and place it between her lips, she coughed violently as the smog entered her lungs.
“aw. sorry, I didn't—“   
“nope it's,” she said with her thick throat. “never got to smoke because of rugby.” 
you just hit her with an understanding face as you shift on her lap. her left hand moves to rest on your inner thigh and her other just at the curve of your ass as you perch closer into her. you face the joint and grab her cheeks, blowing smoke into her mouth, she inhales softly, both of your lips practically touching. you’d never give her the satisfaction as you noticed her hips pressing your backside.
ellie stood behind you both, holding a can of beer and a cocktail glass filled with your drink. you handed off the joint and took both in your hands. ellie noticed how close abby’s hands were to your crotch and became red with jealousy. ellie looked you in your eyes as she pushed out smoke from between her lips. as you sipped your Ellie concoction, abby’s hands trailed up your back under your top, she pulled you in closer to her chest as she whispered in your ear. “you’re so fucking hot.” 
you giggle at her praises but feel a knot form in your stomach as you keep unwavering eye contact with ellie’s as Abby continues to spout praises. you press down harder in her lap where she thrusted upwards into your ass. 
“so, you guys ready to graduate?” ellie interrupted, seeing how flustered you got. 
you sipped to avoid speaking as abby turned her head to answer ellie.
“yes. i’m thinking about backpacking around Asia for a bit.” 
“really? i’ve always wanted to do —“ 
“since when?” ellie cuts you off in a fiery spit. 
abby coughs and sips her beer in a gulp, finishing it all. 
“need another?” you ask. 
abby nods kindly and gently pats your ass as you get up. ellie passes the blunt to abby and follows you inside to go to the drink fridge in the basement. you know she’s following you, you can practically feel her breath on your neck as you zig-zag toward the steps. you reach the bottom of the basement stairs and see ellie’s silhouette at the top. you try and reach for the string near the lightbulb but can’t find it, your heart beats loudly in your ears as ellie’s converse tap towards you. she stands right in front of you, without saying a word, you can smell her shampoo mixed with weed, and she reaches up to turn the light on. you look at her light pink eyes, and furrowed brows, and notice her heaving. 
for a moment you both just stand in thick silence. 
“i have to get abby a beer.” you felt your feet become heavy and your mind drifted. 
before you could even open the refrigerator door an inch, she slams it shut. her eyebrows raise in curiosity. 
“speak.” you demand. 
taken aback, she gasps at your boldness. “well—I— what the fuck?” 
you shove past her and take another beer in your hands ignoring her dropped jaw. 
“you come to my party, rubbing up on that bitch, sitting in her lap… wha-when has that ever been like you?” 
“are you the only one allowed to have fun?” 
she froze, as abby called out.
“hey, you okay?” 
her voice was so protective, you felt her gaze down at the top of the stairs, making sure ellie didn’t do anything stupid. 
“i’m fine, ellie was helping me with something. i’ll be up.” 
you tried to convince abby, but she still stood watching, which made ellie twitch with anger. 
“i’m going to go to the bathroom pretty.” abby finally says leaving. 
“okay!” you yell out. 
“if you go, please don’t…” she babbled. 
you liked seeing her so weak for you, but it wasn’t enough. you stood your ground and dared to move past her, but she stopped you by grabbing your wrist. “ellie get off of me.” 
you felt the wine and weed settle in, you were sweating, panting, and fingertips buzzing. her touch felt so good, you couldn’t deny that. 
“pretty.” she mocked. 
At least someone sees it, you thought. 
                                                                                  — 
you officially lost Abby, she must’ve left or found someone else to caress. you didn’t mind, deep down you knew that’s not who you really wanted anyway. as you sipped a lone beer and wandered around the house your high was kicking in and the music entered your ears in a blur. no words were clear, just the bass booming on the hardwood creating a vibration under you. you reach the end of the hallway, where ellie’s room door stood. it seemed taller than usual, more daunting, stretching several feet upwards. you actually had never been in her room before; you saw it on her stories, or on facetime, but never in person. as you reached for the cold, gold knob you pause. 
you hear ellie’s laugh boom from behind you, so you follow it like sonar. you see her taking shots with her bandmates and you watch as her t-shirt lifts up ever so slightly to expose her naval. you wanted to know what it tasted like. her feet wobbled underneath her, and she was tipsy. you blink your eyes several times as you find a wall to lean on, and your hand travels back down the hall to open the big, scary door. you creep inside, it’s dark, but in the corner is a small desk lamp that illuminates a yellow hue onto the room. her bed was on the floor, room unpacked, shit was all on the floor, and her guitars were perched in the left corner of the room. to the right was her bathroom, you saw your reflection and had to focus to see your face. your eyes pink, lips wet, and body warm. you sipped more beer as you turned to her shower, you imagined ellie’s naked body, the way she rubbed the bar of soap around her neck, nipples, and in between. 
you went to sit on Ellie’s bed, you began to roll yourself in her messy, undone bedding. her smell was so thick, bruising your nostrils, filling you up. you remember how she treated you when dina was around and you became more pissed off. you swallowed the last drops of your drink and threw the bottle on the ground. warm tears began to bud and then you realized how your mascara would run down your cheeks. you pulled out your phone to check the damage. 
lets talk, im sorry. 
ellie’s message from two hours ago, you freeze, it’s been two hours? you bring your palms to your forehead and let out a soft sob. 
“i’ll be back, yea!” ellie hollers from the hallway. 
you straighten up immediately, she walks in hand in her hair, surprised to see you. 
“oh.” she says softly. 
you couldn’t help but sigh. you set your phone down on the ground and look up at her, she had a slight smile on her face seeing you like this, not knowing you were on the verge of tears just now. she closes the door behind her, bends down, and lifts your chin up. 
“you’re gone.” she giggles. 
you push her hand away and turn your face. 
“let me take care of you, come on. it’s the least I can do,” 
the softness in her voice shook you. 
“did you get my text lovey?” 
all you can muster is a nod as you begin to scoot towards the head of her bed.  
“why don’t you just, get comfortable, i’ll get you something to throw on.” 
she rummages loud through her boxes, which makes your head pound, and tosses you a clean, grey zip-up. she leaves the room quietly, flicking on the light in the bathroom and closing the door after she clicks off the table lamp. you remove your jeans and top, leaving you in your lace panties.
your head is pounding as you become more intoxicated by the scent of her earthy shampoo lingering on her pillow. you inhaled the familiar scent, imagining your hands running through her hair, pulling her closer to your neck. the door opens and you jolt as you remember you never put on the zip-up. 
“I’m sorry— I,” ellie gulps as she spills the glass of water she brought for you onto herself. you roughly zip yourself into the warmth that smelt like her laundry detergent. 
“i’m good.” you mutter. 
you both share a familiar laugh, and her gaze becomes shifty as she thinks about your body. she hands you a half-full glass of cold water with a nervous smile. 
“glass half full, right?” 
you sip and chuckle. 
stupid, fucking stupid Els, she thinks. 
she sits beside you at the opposite end of the bed, she ignores the fact that she can see your thighs unhindered by any fabric not obstructing her view. even though it was dark, she could still see you illuminated by the bathroom light. 
“good, urm,” she peered down at her now sheer shirt. “i will go and get ready for bed.” 
her nipples were suddenly erect from the cold water spreading onto her chest. You couldn’t help but notice them perk from under the thin, wife-pleaser material. she stood up to grab her night clothes and head for the bathroom, leaving you smothered in darkness. you couldn’t tell if your eyes were open or not, but the four walls that you imagined around you spun. 
you heard the water from the shower turn on and your fantasy brightened, thinking about ellie’s body. you became more drunk on the image of ellie touching herself in the shower because of you. knowing how intently she was watching you grind against abby, not only did it make her furious, it turned her on. she knew she made a mistake, picking dina over you all these years. you push your hips upwards, riding the mattress, inhaling ellie’s scent.
you found her name leave your lips softly, Ellie.
Ellie. 
you couldn’t tell the difference between your voice and your subconscious desire of moaning her name. you began to imagine her holding you.
Ellie. 
“lovey, you okay?” she said frightening you. 
you paused, realizing she opened the bathroom door, drying her hair on a towel. Her grey boxers clung to her body so sweetly. she wore a distressed band tee that sat just above her belly button. you had formed sweat around your hairline and your body perfectly contoured into the mattress. 
“i’m okay. yea, thanks.” 
she sighed as she bent down to sit at the edge of the bed. as she dried her hair she was thinking of the next move to make. you were bunched up under yourself, warm from embarrassment. her hand wrapped around your ankle gently, which shocked you, but your reaction time was too slow. she leaned over to kiss your leg, kisses feeling like a pure electric shock, you groaned at finally feeling her touch. 
“els.” you managed to say.
“what?” She said in between kisses, finally coming up the side of your thigh, with her left hand coasting up your backside. 
“no. i can’t.” 
your body pushes her hands away, startling her. she looked at you in pure shock, as if you were the one who was wrong. she crawled towards you with undeniable lust in her eyes. 
“why not?” she asked dumbfounded. 
“you rejected me all this time. you… dina…” you say attempting to jog her memory. 
“dina and i so what.” she moved an inch on all fours. 
“you chose her over me, so that’s that.” 
“baby,” she groaned. 
you melt at her voice, you couldn’t help it. 
" okay, i was scared. scared to disappoint you, I’m not… I’m not sure how to be in a relationship. dina was fun, easy, she didn’t care. I wanted you, I just- 'm so fucking dumb,” she rambled.  
you grimaced at her name, you had grown so spiteful of her that even the mention of her made you tense. ellie was now in your bubble, she laid her head on the pillow beside you, and sincerity filled her eyes. 
“you could’ve told me that. you know that I was your best friend ellie.” 
she flinches at her own name. “I know, I know.” she muttered as she tucked her hand behind your neck and leaned in to kiss you. her lips were pillowy and wet, better than anything you’ve ever felt. she swiped the bottom of your lip entering her tongue inside your mouth. you groan at the taste of her and her huffing as she pushes deeper into your mouth. your hands drift to her waist and you pull your leg up over her body, pulling her closer. 
your hands travel up her back into her scalp. she pulls away and pierces your pupils, she meant everything she said, you saw it. “i’m sorry lovey, i was just scared.” she added. 
you could only force out a hmm.
"please forgive me?" she says, pecking your neck slowly with staccato kisses.
her tongue swirls up the side of your neck and wraps around your lobe as she pleads, "please." desperately pushing up against you.
and for a moment you consider forgiveness.
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thepersonnamedsam · 11 months
Text
mornings spent well - cl16
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pairing: charles leclerc x reader (basically gn, just one mention as bride)
summary: You woke up in a bed, where the sheets felt like a bad night out with your friends. And that’s exactly what happened the night before. 
pt. 2 / pt. 3
word count: 1.5k
warnings: none, maybe a bit angst, generally fluff, google translated french
note: it’s weird writing about existing people, so just ignore the awkwardness plus it’s not proofread 
masterlist / taglist
Your head was spinning, and you felt like you would throw up any second if you moved your body more. You closed your eyes in hopes the world would stop spinning. Breath in, breathe out. You tried to remember what happened last night, but all that came to your mind, or more your mouth, was that awful taste of tequila.
You didn’t like tequila, its taste is weird, you don’t understand the salt and lime thing and it makes you do questionable choices. Like waking up in someone’s bed. That’s exactly what happened, because those sheets weren’t itching like crazy, and they actually felt cozy.
You lifted those cozy sheets to discover nothing. You weren’t naked, you were wearing shirt and underpants? And your socks are still on? Who undressed you last night and they were too polite to actually undress you? Not that you complained, you’d rather wear this than nothing.
With a sigh you wanted to get up without puking. But the moment you were ready to take the first step of sitting up the door opened.
You looked to your left and there was an empty bedside. The covers were pulled back and you saw the crease in the pillow, obviously from someone sleeping on it. You still weren’t sure where you were. This wasn’t the bedroom of your best friend nor was it of someone you knew and had been at their home.
The person standing in the doorway watched your every move, from looking at the bedside to wandering your gaze over the bedroom and finally landing on him. He saw you looking at him and locking eyes. A familiar feeling overtook both of your bodies, and you just couldn’t place what that feeling was.
The handsome man was still looking at you and you couldn’t lift your gaze from him as well. His hand reached his neck where he scratched it. As he took his hand back down you saw it, a silver wedding band. You slept in a married mans bed?! You lifted both your hands to your face to rub your eyes and that’s when your silver wedding band sprung in your eyes.
You had a wedding band? And the same one as the man standing in the doorway?
He cleared his throat and you looked at him. “This is awkward”, he said as he was scratching his neck once again, this time with his right hand. You cleared your throat too, nut trusting your voice after too much tequila from last night.
“Qu’est-ce qu’on va faire, merde. What are we gonna do, shit.” So, he spoke French. But you still didn’t know his name. “I guess, I mean looking at the evidence on our hands, I guess we are married?” Your voice went quieter the more you spoke. You were still hoping it wasn’t true or a dream, but his answer let those hopes disappear in a second.
“Oui, I guess we are married. You woke up in my bed and we both have a ring on our ring finger, that counts as something right?”
You let your body hit the mattress. Your head still hurting, not spinning as much, but still hurting like a bitch. And it made processing the new information very hard. “Okay, so let me get it straight; we don’t know each other, but we got married last night?” Your questionable look made him scoff.
“I know you, what are you talking about?” Now it was you who was scoffing. What did he mean by ‘I know you’? You were thinking hard, where could you have seen this man before. “Charles, Charles Leclerc, we met last week in that coffee shop where you work, and you gave me your number on the coffee cup? Do you recall?”
It hit you like a brick, of course you remember! You couldn’t believe you forgot that gorgeous face. You gave him your number, but he never texted you.
“You never texted me”, you stated. His face twisted into an apologetic look. “I texted you last night?” He was shrugging and you could see his whole upper body tense under the action. This man was built like a Greek statue. “I was in this club with my friends, and I was feeling lonely, that’s when I remembered I had put your number into my phone, so I texted you.”
“And what happened next?”, you had to ask, how did they go form texting to marrying? “You showed up and we took some tequila shots and that’s all I can remember.” His face said it all, the look of confusion and sorrowness. He didn’t know how they got from shots to this.
This was a disaster. All of this is not how you like to spend your mornings. And he didn’t like it that much as well.  
He lifted his body from the doorframe and started to walk towards you. He was just a breathtaking view. “Au moins j’ai épousé une belle mariée. At least I married a beautiful bride.”
He looked at you like you were the most beautiful thing on this planet. And he thought you were, he thought it the moment he saw you behind the coffee machine. He was so glad he discovered your number on his cup, because he was too afraid to ask for it. Though he was confident in most of his tasks, especially girls, he just couldn’t seem to find his confidence when he first looked at you.
He has no clue how he ended up marrying you a week later. He asked himself where the hell you two could’ve gotten married. You were in Monaco and not Las Vegas. Did you just go to the registry office and asked to be married? You were drunk as hell; how would any civil servant legally marry you? Were you even legally married? You were just wearing rings, that doesn’t mean you two actually got married.
His body hit the bed as he sat down, and you felt the mattress dip down on his side. And as he took his phone form the bedside table you admired his back. His muscles flexing under his every move. Fascinated by his back you didn’t notice how he had sighed multiple times after another.
“We are legally married; I just found the certificate in my emails.” His head now turned to look at you. His eyes staring into yours. Realization hit, you were no longer single and are actually married to this man in front of you. You blinked, once, twice, a hundred times maybe, you didn’t know. 
You couldn’t believe it, you were married. “Do you think we should like, get a divorce?”, your voice was shy, you didn’t want to insult him. You didn’t want him to feel like you wouldn’t be married to him. Because you would. 
Would you not have married him if you weren't drunk? Because he would have. He would marry you again in heartbeat. “If you want to, we have to be married for at least 12 months until we can get a divorce. I say we at least try to live a life as a married couple?” He looked at you with hopeful eyes. And you couldn’t say no to those eyes, it would be cruel. 
“12 months? How do you know that?” - “ I just googled it”, he shrugged his shoulders again. “I guess we could try, I don’t think I would mind it”, your voice once more shy, not sure if he heard what you just said. His eyes lit up; “Really? You would try?” You smiled at him and just nodded your head. 
“Can I kiss you?”, he asked with hopeful eyes. You nodded again and before you even closed your eyes, his body was turned towards you and his lips on yours. His lips as soft as a cloud and the kiss so sweet like sugar. You couldn’t believe it, kissing you husband, what a weird sentence going through your brain. 
“I guess I have to put your new name into my contacts”, you laugh at him as he removed his lips from yours. He smiled and said: “And what would that be?” As you typed in his new contact name he tried to sneak a glance but he didn’t succeed. Husband was now gracing the top of they're messenger chat. 
He smiled as soon as he saw it. And he couldn’t stop smiling. He was smiling like a little boy who just got ice cream. His face even started hurting a bit after smiling so much. He was sure he’d have muscle ache the next day. But you were smiling too. He was making you happy and you didn’t know how or why. He just did and you were content with that. You didn’t question why your heart fluttered every time you looked at him or how he made you smile with just a short glance. Everything just felt normal and right, like it had been that way for ages. 
°°°
next part
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melpomene-writes · 7 months
Text
my celebrity crush
minatozaki sana x fem!reader // fluff, smut
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you are so gay.
as if there has ever been any doubt about that.
the photo on the screen of your phone is just further unnecessary proof of that fact. you try telling yourself that you’re just appreciative of an expensive matching lingerie set but the truth is that you’re halfway in love with the gorgeous model and the voluptuous curves that the lace frames.
besides, you might as well appreciate the latest photograph that underwear model minatozaki sana has posted to her instagram account — it’s been shared to be looked at, though perhaps not with the kind of meticulous attention that you use to admire every pixel of the frame.
there’s no question about it, minatozaki sana is gorgeous. anybody with a working pair of eyes can see that. that she was placed upon this earth specifically to model underwear, you have no doubt. but sometimes you wonder whether sana’s existence has a secondary purpose — to torture you with those pretty brown eyes and her smiling lips and each flash of delicious skin.
“you’re so gay.”
tzuyu’s comment, while undeniably true, is the unwelcome gravity that sends your thoughts plummeting back to reality.
“she’s so pretty,” you whine, staring mournfully at the picture for a few seconds, before you continue scrolling down your instagram feed.
“yeah, because you were definitely admiring her face,” tzuyu comments drily, giving you a knowing stare. she nudges you with her elbow, then gestures at the drinking game that you’ve been ignoring in favor of drooling over an unattainable model. “come on, it’s your turn.”
you reach into the center of the circle and flip over a playing card, before pointing across at dahyun and gesturing for her to take a drink.
“trust you to fall for a girl who’s famous,” tzuyu says, when the game has moved onto your other side.
“i haven’t fallen for her,” you pout. “i’m just appreciative of her work.”
“you get a notification whenever she posts a new photo,” tzuyu reminds you. “i don’t even do that for the people that i’m dating. you’ve got it bad.”
you scroll back up to look at sana’s picture once more, and your heart twists painfully in your chest at the smoldering gaze that sana gives the camera. finally deciding to stop torturing yourself with daydreams about what will never be, you lock your phone and slide it into your pocket, then gesture to the half-empty bottle of vodka on the floor between yourself and tzuyu.
“i need a stronger drink.”
///
you’ve got a nice o’clock class in the morning, yet you still allow tzuyu to ply you with a generous amount of vodka, still allow yourself to be drawn in by the increasingly raucous drinking games, still allow yourself to be dragged out into town to continue your night at a club when you promised yourself earlier that you would only have two drinks and then be in bed by eleven.
it’s a dangerous game to play, but once you become aware that you’re way drunker than you planned to be, you decide to embrace it and order the next round of shots — tequila this time —much to the delight of your friends.
your mind’s fuzzy as you stumble away from the dance floor and down a dark hallway with unpleasantly sticky floors towards the women’s bathroom. there’s a queue lining up outside, a string of drunk girls complimenting each other’s dresses and catching loudly over the thump of music as they wait for one of the stalls to free up and you join the back of it, fishing your phone out of the pocket of your pants to pass the time.
when you unlock your screen, it’s still open on the instagram post from earlier, and your eyes pop out of your head once more as they’re greeted by the sight of minatozaki sana’s lace-clad body. the sight knocks the air out of your lungs, and you feel giddy. (it might be the alcohol, but you’re pretty sure that this photo really isn't helping the matter.) you feel as though you could stare at this photo all week, that sana’s sultry brown eyes and the expanse of creamy skin on display could keep you sustained better than the food and oxygen that science says your body needs to survive.
tzuyu’s words from earlier ring in your mind. trust you to fall for a girl who’s famous. end despite your earlier denial, you know now that it’s true. you’ve never been this addicted to a girl in real life, never felt like your life would be incomplete without somebody. and its fucking ridiculous because minatozaki sana’s a famous model, and you’re just an insignificant speck in sana’s extensive follower list. you might dream of an alternate universe in which a chance encounter with the model leads to a fulfilling relationship and a fairytale happy ending, but the reality means that this will never actually happen.
which is why what you do next is so easy.
it’s almost certainly the alcohol that pushes you to start typing out a comment on sana’s photo, fueling the resentful part of your mind that’s reminding you that sana’s not the only incontestably gorgeous, but that as a famous model she would never even glance twice at somebody like you, pushing your thumbs to tap away at the keyboard on the screen of your phone before your brain has the chance to catch up.
“nice underwear, bet it would look better on my bedroom floor...”
the line moves forward just as you tap send, and you slip your phone back into your pocket and forget about the comment entirely.
///
when you’re finished in the bathroom, you return to the dancefloor with a clear conscience and a renewed enthusiasm for having a good time. you dance with tzuyu, shimmying your hips and waving your arms around above your head in ways that would bring you great shame if you weren’t impaired by the buzz of too many units of alcohol. as it is, you dance like you don’t give a fuck — and you don't.
that is, until your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you take it out while continuing a half-dance kind of thing, startling yourself with the bright glare of the screen as you unlock it in the darkened nightclub. you turn down the brightness, then look for the cause of the vibration — an instagram notification telling you that somebody has sent you a private message — and read the words on the screen.
“nice face, bet it would look better between my legs...”
you read the sender’s name once, twice, three times before it registers that it reads minatozaki sana — your celebrity crush minatozaki sana — and it is only after that the contents of message itself hits you.
and you nearly drop your phone.
no way.
no fucking way.
you read it all again, read your own shame-inducing comment that you barely remember typing earlier in the night and then read sana's private response. and it just doesn't make any sense. sana’s making fun of you, she has to be. you’ve made an unwanted and inappropriate sexual comment on a stranger's photo and sana’s calling you out for it.
you have to believe that’s true because the alternative is that sana’s message is genuine, and that is far too much for your alcohol-fogged brain to handle.
there is no way that sana would be interested in somebody like you.
you’re a firm believer that the multiverse theory is entirely plausible, but you cannot comprehend that there could be a single universe in which you get hit on by somebody as completely out of your league as minatozaki sana.
especially not in this universe.
especially not after the awful comment that you sent.
you wish that you could rewind time. it's stupid, to be completely honest, because you've spent months dreaming up impossible scenarios in which sana notices you amongst the thousands of fans, but now that the day has finally arrived, you don't think you've ever been this mortified in your life.
you need to be sober. you also need to rectify this situation as soon as possible, and because sobriety seems to be several hours and a few pints of cold water away, you settle for working on the latter.
"i'm so sorry! i've been drinking and i don't know what i was thinking when i wrote that! i promise i'm not a creep!"
it's word vomit in written form, but you aren't capable of typing out anything more articulate in your current state and you're at least grateful that the message contains no spelling errors. you hit send and push the phone back into your pocket, as if putting the whole thing out of sight will wipe it from your mind.
if only the world worked in that way.
“what’s wrong?” tzuyu bellows into your ear from just a few inches away, and despite the proximity, her words are still almost drowned out by the thump of the bass.
you try to act normal, realizing quickly that ‘normal’ behavior is a lot harder to pull off when you’re thinking about it, and just shrug, before answering, “just not feeling it anymore. i’ve drunk too much.”
“we can go if you like,” tzuyu replies. “i’m pretty much done for the night too.”
your phone goes off again in your pocket, and you try not to be too eager in taking it out, just in case tzuyu notices your strange behavior and probes further.
“why don’t you enjoy the rest of your night, and we’ll see if you’re still interested when you’re sober tomorrow?”
you frown down at the screen, because the words don't entirely make sense and you don't know if that's your fault or sana's fault or the alcohol's or some fiendish combination of all three.
“interested in what?”
you press send and sana’s next message comes back almost immediately, and you can’t help but picture sana somewhere with her phone in her hand, waiting for your message so that she can reply straight away. (sana’s scantily clad in this scenario, and draped across a bed, because apparently your mind enjoys straying to inappropriate places after too many shots, and oh boy, if your mouth wasn’t dry before then it certainly is now.)
“in seeing my underwear on your bedroom floor.”
you lock the screen of your phone in panic, lest anybody around you happen to see the conversation with sana and put it away as you lean towards tzuyu and say, “yeah, let’s get of here.”
///
when you wake up, the only thing to hit you before the hangover is the shame.
you remember everything. well, there are clear gaps in your memory — you don’t remember the journey to the nightclub, nor getting food on the way back home even though there’s an open pizza box with two and a half uneaten slices lying in plain sight on your bedroom floor, nor the exact set of circumstances that led you going out on a night that you’d promise yourself you would stay in. but you remember everything about minatozaki sana, about the obscene comment you posted on sana’s photo, about the inexplicably propositional message that you received in response.
and you’re mortified.
you unlock your phone with the greatest reluctance, because you're hoping that there’s a tiny chance you drank so much last night that the entire thing was merely a dreamed-up product of your own alcohol-addled mind but nope, the messages from sana are most definitely glaring up at you, which means that you did the unspeakable and pretty much sexually-assaulted a stranger via an instragram comment.
the third thing that hits you, once you’ve confirmed that last night’s events really did happen, is the realization that you should’ve been in class twenty minutes ago.
you drag yourself out of bed, grateful that you at least had enough sense to change into pajamas when you got home in the early hours of the morning, rather than passing out fully nude, as you’ve done before, and take your phone with you out of your bedroom and into the kitchen where tzuyu sits at the table, chewing on a slice of toast.
“tzuyu, we have a big problem,” you announce.
tzuyu glances up from her plate, an expression of mild surprise on her face before she swallows her mouthful of food and replies, “for the last time, y/n, skipping class because you’re hungover is not the end of the world.”
you feel a bang of sadness for the loss of your unblemished attendance record this year, but then shake yourself out if it when you remember that there are far worse things that you’ve done in the last twenty-four hours than forgetting to set an alarm.
“no, something happened last night,” you explain. when panic flashes across tzuyu’s face, you hold out your phone, which is open on the comment you made on sana's photo last night, and quickly say, “no, nothing like that. look at this.”
tzuyu squints at the screen, mouthing the words of your comment silently as she reads it, before her mouth drops open and she stares up at you with shock in her eyes.
“jesus christ, y/n. that’s not like you at all.”
“i know!” you whine, taking back your phone so that you can open up the message conversation that follows on from your comment. “i’m mortified.”
“i mean,” tzuyu says, taking another bite from her toast and continuing in a muffled voice, “that photo has hundreds of comments. i’m sure she hasn’t seen it.”
“hold on,” you tell her. “i’m not finished.”
you show tzuyu your phone once more, this time open on the surreal conversation with sana, the one that you wouldn’t believe actually happened if you didn’t have the hard physical evidence of it in front of you.
tzuyu’s reaction is predictably astounded.
“what the actual fuck?”
“so, you see it too?” you ask, just to confirm, as tzuyu takes the phone from you to look at the conversation in more detail. “i haven’t just fantasized the entire thing?”
tzuyu frowns down at the screen with an expression of disbelief that matches how you feel, and then answers, “it would appear not.”
the phone in tzuyu’s hands vibrates with a new message, and you lunge forward to snatch it from your best friend, only for tzuyu to use her height advantage against you to keep you the phone to yourself.
“it’s from her!” tzuyu announces gleefully, before she reads out, “‘morning cutie!’ — oh my god, i’m going to be sick already — ‘hope you aren’t too hungover. the offer still stands. i’m in dc for a shoot next week if you’d like to go for a drink?’ holy shit, y/n. she’s serious.”
you finally triumph in taking your phone back, reading over sana’s newest message to find that tzuyu didn't make a word of it up. minatozaki sana, a famous model so gorgeous that you’re certain she could date anybody she wanted, has actually asked you out.
“it’s a joke,” you say aloud, for your own benefit more than for tzuyu. “it has to be. retaliation for the gross comment that i left her. she has to be making fun of me, trying to see if she can trick me into saying yes, before she jumps out and tells me that of course somebody like her would never be interested in somebody like me.”
“okay y/n, this may be news to you — and don’t you dare repeat this conversation to anybody because you know i hate it when people think i can be sincere — but you’re actually kind of hot." when you open your mouth to protest, tzuyu shuts you up with a dismissive wave of your hand and continue, “and i know that girls could be flinging their panties at you and you’d still come up with a completely illogical explanation for why they might still not be interested in you, but it’s not completely unreasonable that minatozaki sana has checked out your instagram account, decided that you’re a hot piece of ass and wants to screw you.”
you chew on your lower lip, because that’s an unlikely story, even though the messages that stare up at you from the screen of your phone seem to support a similar idea.
“look,” tzuyu says, reaching out to rest one hand on your arm, “if you don’t want to then you don’t have to. but just remember that most people would give anything to be asked out by their celebrity crush.”
it hits you then. this is your celebrity crush, the woman that only ever appears in your fantasies. an opportunity like this would never present itself again.
“okay,” you finally concede. “but if i turn up to meet her and find that she’s there with a half dozen police officers waiting to arrest me for sexually harassing her online, then you are paying for my legal fees.”
///
you’re terrified. you’ve been a jittery ball of nerves all afternoon, and now that the minutes until you meet sana are down to the single digits, the pounding of your heart is deafening.
“y/n?”
you’re so nervous that you startle when you hear a voice saying your name, and you jump to your feet when you see sana standing in front of you.
sana is… she’s shorter than you imagined her to be. she’s only fractionally shorter than you, but it still surprises you that this figure you’ve built up in your head to be such a monumental idol in your life doesn’t actually tower over you in reality.
sana seems completely normal too, as if she’s just a regular person, rather than a famous model with hundreds of thousands of online followers. and yeah, of course you knew sana wasn’t going to show up in just a fancy set of lingerie, or wearing a glamorous ball gown, or anything like that, but there’s something about seeing sana wearing a pair of turned up jeans with rips in both knees, a leather jacket, a plaid scarf bundled around her neck, that just grounds the entire situation.
she’s still gorgeous though. you think that sana could have turned up in a pair of sweatpants and with unwashed hair and you would still momentarily forget how to breathe in her presence.
sana’s eyes are browner in real life, and her smile even prettier, and if you weren’t at least fifty percent in love with the model before this moment, then you definitely are now.
“sana?” you choke past the dryness in your throat to finally stop gaping like an idiot and say something. “hi! um, can i get you a drink?”
“sure!” sana answers, unraveling her scarf from around your neck and taking off your jacket, folding both over one arm as you lean on the bar and flag down a bartender. “i’ll have a white wine, please.”
“a white wine and a vodka lime soda, please,” you tell the server behind the bar, reaching into your purse for some change to pay for the drinks.
“you look great, by the way,” sana says, nudging herself into your side as she leans on the bar beside you.
“so, do you,” you say. “i mean, wow.”
you turn to look at sana with the intention of physically acknowledging how good sana looks but find brown eyes much closer than you expect. you falter, intimidated by sana's proximity, and have to look away for your own sanity.
“don’t be ridiculous,” sana dismisses your comment with a wave of the hand, as if she hasn’t just dazzled you with a simple gaze. “i came straight from a shoot so i didn’t even have time to properly get ready.”
the bartender places your drinks on the bar, and you take the opportunity to distract yourself from the heat rising to your cheeks in sana’s presence by reaching out for your purse and counting out the correct change to pay for your drinks. passing the glass of wine over to sana, you pick up your own drink and lead the way over to a small table for two not far from the bar.
“i want to apologize for the comment that i left on your picture,” you say, almost as soon as you both have each taken a seat, desperate to get your apology in early so that you have a chance to redeem yourself and prove to sana that you can be so much more than just a creep from the internet. “i was drunk, and i know that doesn’t excuse anything...”
“don’t worry about it,” sana says, taking a sip from her wine and then placing the glass on the table. “it’s not the first time i’ve seen a comment like that. admittedly, they’re usually from gross teenage boys or pervy old men...”
“i’m incredibly sorry,” you repeat, mortified at being placed in such a category.
“look, i can tell that it’s out of character for you,” sana reassures you. a sly smile quirks her lips, and she adds in a lower voice, “besides, i like a girl who isn’t afraid to say that she wants.”
your mouth goes incredibly dry from the combination of sana’s words and the look that sana gives you in that moment, like she wants to launch herself across the table and do unspeakable things to you regardless of the bar’s other patrons, and you have to reach for your drink to cool yourself down.
“do you do this often?” you dare to ask, almost scared to hear of all the other people sana must’ve invited out for drinks, just like this.
“do what?” sana frowns.
“go out for drinks with fans.”
sana shakes her heads and answers, “actually, this is the first time.”
you almost choke on your drink. you had been expecting sana to say that she does this all the time — she must do this all the time if she's doing it with you — but the reality is a complete surprise.
"then... why me?"
it doesn’t make sense. sana has over ten million followers on instagram, and out of them all, she has chosen you.
“i don’t know,” sana shrugs. “something about you intrigued me. when i saw your comment, i was curious because it came from a woman. and then i looked at your photos and i liked what i saw.”
you feel your cheeks flush when sana confessed to browsing your own instagram account. you use it to post pictures of sunsets and hand-picked flowers and the cat that followed you home from the library last week. nothing that would make a lingerie model swoon.
and yet sana’s still there, sitting in front of you with a drink in her hand that you bought for her.
“what about now?” you dare to ask. “do you still like what you see?”
sana’s gaze slowly lowers, staring at your eyes and then dropping to your lips, where she lingers before her stare slides down the rest of your body, as if she’s checking you out through the table that sits between you both. when sana’s eyes flicker upwards once more to meet yours, she doesn’t answer your question verbally. instead, the way she raises her eyebrows at you, along with the renewed hunger in her eyes, is more than enough of an indication of her thoughts.
“so,” sana eventually drawls, “it took you a great deal of alcohol for you to post that comment, right?” when you nod an affirmative, sana continues, “and how many drinks before you’ll let me take you back to my hotel?”
you glance across at your drink, already half empty from the way that you’ve been sipping at it regularly as a distraction from the mounting arousal that has you clenching your thighs together. your decision is instant, and you reach for the glass, knocking back your head to pour the remainder down your throat.
wincing at the taste of the vodka, slightly stronger at the bottom of the glass than it had been at the top, you put the glass down with a thud and reply, “one’s more than enough.”
sana’s eyes light up in delight and she finishes her own drink in one gulp, before collecting her purse and jacket as she pushes back her chair.
“then let’s get out of here.”
///
if somebody were to ask you at a later date to recount the journey back to sana’s hotel, you would only be able to do it in the vaguest terms. it’s a blur of sana’s hand in yours, and sana’s hand on your waist, and sana’s hands drifting lower so that it's not quite grazing the curve of your denim-clad butt when you both have the privacy of the elevator up to sana’s room.
the two of you talk about... about something. the two of you must do, because the journey isn’t an awkward one, not entirely anyway. you think that you both talk about sana’s current shoot, and your college classes, and other such idle chitchat that happens entirely on autopilot. none of it really registers in your brain, because you’re still completely overwhelmed by the fact that you’ve met your celebrity crush, let alone the fact that said celebrity crush has invited you back to her hotel room for what promises to be the most mind-blowing evening of your entire life to date.
you’re still half-convinced that this whole thing is just a hoax, that sana’s hand seeking out whichever part of your body it can find to hold as you both make your way up to sana’s room is only there to stop you from running, that you both’ll step inside sana’s room to find a television crew armed with cameras and a half dozen confetti cannons ready to jump out and tell you that you’ve been pranked.
because there’s no way that sana actually wants to have sex with you.
but the two of you make it up to the hotel room, and when sana unlocks the door with her key card and ushers you inside, there’s nothing waiting for the two of you except a king size bed that’s equal parts inviting and intimidating.
“can i get you another drink?” sana asks, dropping her purse and jacket onto the floor beside the dresser and opening the door to the mini-fridge in the corner of the room to inspect its contents.
“no,” you answer, deciding that although a little liquid courage would be more than welcome right now, you want to be sound of mind to experience this for whatever it turns out to be. “i...”
“oh,” sana says, shutting the fridge door again and crossing the room to you, her hands seeking out your waist and slowly guiding you back against the wall next to the door. “is there something else you'd rather be doing?”
“i...” you stammer, your throat almost painfully dry, “i have a couple of ideas.”
“yeah?”
you hesitate before you act, searching sana’s face for any possible sign that she doesn’t want you to kiss her, but when you find none, and when sana’s hands tighten on your waist in encouragement, you lift one of your hands to cup sana’s cheek and pull her in for a hot kiss.
despite waiting for you to initiate the kiss, sana takes control as soon as your mouth meets hers. she keep you anchored against the wall with her hands, while her mouth opens and her tongue swipes against the crease of your lips, requesting access that you’re only too happy to give. and you’re grateful that sana’s taking the lead. the entire situation still drips with surrealism, and your brain can’t keep up with the fast pace of the evening's developments.
you’re kissing minatozaki sana. you’re in sana’s hotel room, with sana’s hands low on your hips, and sana’s tongue sweeping into your mouth, and there’s no fucking way that this isn’t just a hyper-realistic dream. except that you’re too aware of each tiny detail for this to be a dream, too aware of the thudding in your ears with each pump of the blood through your veins, too aware of the way that sana’s hands burn through the material of your top, too aware of the ache between your legs as you subconsciously push your hips forward into sana’s as if seeking contact where you so desperately need it.
it has to be real.
almost as if she senses that you need a respite to let your brain catch up with your body, sana pulls back from the kiss, far enough for you to see that sana’s brown irises have almost shrunk entirely behind the black of her blown pupils, before sana’s parted lips descend on your neck, tracing dangerous paths over tendons and fluttering pulses.
it’s still very distracting, the way that sana’s teeth and tongue work at the skin of your neck with no real predictability in their movements, but without the intoxication of sana’s lips on your own, you do manage to remember that there are things you planned to say to sana before things could get to this stage and with your mouth free to speak, you choose now to attempt to vocalize them, if only to give you something else to try and focus on instead of succumbing entirely to your desire.
“i just want to say,” you manage to husk out, impressed with your own ability to string words together in the face of sana’s valiant efforts at making you lose your mind entirely, “i think you’re… you’re a great rolemodel to young girls, a real icon. the campaigning you do for body positivity… and, uh...” you let out a little grunt as sana’s teeth close around a sensitive spot on your neck, and you have to squeeze your eyes shut to regain the composure needed to finish your sentence, “and the lgbt community. you know, bisexual represen—”
“y/n,” sana says, lifting her mouth from your neck and cutting your words off with a disarming arch of her eyebrow, “i would love to hear all this later, but right now i can think of much better things that your mouth could be doing.”
you let out a noise somewhere between a whimper and a groan at the implication of sana’s words, but you get a sudden surge of confidence, sliding your hands under the hem of sana’s top and bunching the fabric upwards.
“can i take this off?”
sana smiles as she detaches her own hands from your hips, allowing just enough space between your bodies for you to lift sana’s top up and over her head.
you don’t know how to cope now that sana isn’t wearing a shirt. it seems silly, because you've seen this sight before — sana’s breasts covered in satin or lace — but before it’s always been part of a carefully constructed photoshoot intended to be shared with millions of other people. this is completely different because it’s a private showing. nobody else but you get to see this view, and knowing that sana wants it to be you and only you seeing her body tonight, is more of a turn on than anything that you’ve ever encountered in your life before.
“shit,” you groan, closing your eyes as arousal throb in your veins.
“your turn,” sana husks. “i want to see you too.”
sana’s hands tug at the hem of your top and you raise your arms above your head, allowing sana to pull the garment up and off, before she drops it on the floor beside her own.
you almost want to fold your arms across your chest, feeling incredibly self-conscious about standing there in your bra in front of a woman who gets paid to be photographed wearing the same amount of clothing on her upper half. you decided earlier today to put on your nicest bra, just in case things escalated this far, but you’re still just a poor college student, and your nicest bra cost about thirty-five dollars, compared to be obviously far more expensive that sana wears.
“fuck, you’re beautiful,” sana exhales appreciatively, stroking the fingers of one hand across your cheek, then down the column of your neck and over your collarbone before her palm comes to rest over your lace-covered breast. “i can’t wait to get you naked.”
you surge forward, pressing your lips against sana’s, and the force of the movement causes sana to stumble backwards, one hand anchoring itself on your waist while the other palms your breast generously.
“bed,” you mumble, between hot kisses full of tongue that swipe messily at each other and teeth that nip at swollen lips, as you attempt to steer sana backwards towards the bed in the middle of the room, something that only becomes more difficult as sana’s thumb and forefinger pinch at an already puckered nipple through the fabric of your bra.
the two of you make it to the bed, somehow, by which time your jeans are caught around your knees and your fumbling hands have propped open the button on the front of sana’s. you kick your jeans off, tossing them on the floor somewhere behind you as you climb on top of sana, disconnecting your lips long enough to help sana tug denim down her own legs.
“come here, gorgeous,” sana says, smirking at you as she lies back on the bed, propped up on her elbows.
you follow sana’s request, crawling up sana’s body with your legs on either side of sana’s hips, your aching center hovering just inches above sana’s lacy panties as you lean down for another kiss. your long hair tumbles over your face, and you have to take a moment to flick it all over one shoulder, before you connect your lips once more and let your hand slide up the smooth skin of sana’s side until it’s resting on the other curve of sana’s lace-clad breast.
“can i?” you mumble against sana’s lips.
“take it off,” sana says, arching her back off the bed so that you can reach your hand underneath sana and unsnap the clasp. “i want your mouth on my breasts.”
you’re only too happy to oblige, undoing the bra with a shaky hand before throwing it to the floor. you don't allow yourself time to think — or time to realize that sana’s now lying topless before you, because that would almost certainly be too much for you to handle — before you descend on sana’s breast, wrapping your lips around a rosy nipple while you send one of your hands up to give sana’s other breast a generous squeeze. you swipe your tongue over the nipple as it puckers and sana’s hand finds the back of your head, tangling into brunette curls to keep your mouth against her breast.
you’re not satisfied with just this though. now that you have a taste of sana’s skin, you want more, you want to put your mouth on every tantalizing inch of sana’s body. you replace your mouth with your other hand, giving attention to the hardened bud with your fingers, while your tongue traces a path down the valley between sana’s breasts and down sana’s stomach.
sana’s body is even more perfect in person than in her pictures, and you get more and more proof of that with each second that you spend worshipping it. sana’s belly has a slight curve to it, unlike the stereotypical stick-thin model, and you make sure to lavish the soft skin with attention. you trace mindless patterns over sana’s stomach with your lips, stopping every so often to place kisses or draw pictures with your tongue. you seek out sensitive spots, reveling each time sana lets out a gasp or arches away when your lips brush over a ticklish area, making sure to return to these places until sana’s a writhing mess beneath you.
the hand on the back of your head grips tighter, then try to push your mouth down further. you smirk against the warm skin of sana’s stomach, knowing exactly where she wants your next destination to be.
but you won’t give in that easily. you lift your mouth from sana’s stomach and settle on your knees between sana’s legs. sana lets out a groan of frustration, but it’s one that dies in her throat when she realizes that your hands have gone to her hips, seeking out the elastic of her underwear to pull the lace down her legs and discard it on the floor.
you’ve been in this situation with girls before, but you don't think you’ve ever wanted it this much. and it’s not just because sana’s famous, or somebody that you’ve been harboring an unrequited crush on for way longer than the other girl has even known of your existence. there’s just something about sana, about the way that her kisses taste like perfection, about the way that you seem to know exactly what to do to elicit each gasp of pleasure from sana despite being a thrumming ball of nerves, that gives you the inexplicable sensation that your life was always supposed to end up in the moment, whether you like it or not.
you definitely like it. there isn’t a question about that. and, judging by the smear of sana’s arousal that coats your stomach when you settle back between sana’s legs, sana likes it too.
minatozaki sana is into you. which is just way too strange for you get your mind around. sana’s so beautiful, both in looks and personality, that she might as well be from another universe, while you’re just... well, you’re just you. you’re nothing special. completely ordinary.
“i need your mouth,” sana begs.
you’re only too happy to oblige. you trail another path down sana’s body, similar to before but with more purpose now. without the scrap of lace covering sana’s center, your destination is in sight, and you waste very little time getting there, only stopping briefly over sana’s breasts and her navel and that sensitive spot just above sana’s left hipbone that you discovered during your earlier exploration, in attempts to drive sana wild.
everything about this situation is incredibly surreal, but you decide the moment that trumps it all is the one when you slide your tongue through sana’s wetness for the first time. you can’t believe you’re here in sana’s hotel room, let alone going down on the woman you admire, but the heady taste of sana’s arousal on your tongue is eerily familiar, yet also different to anything you’ve ever tasted before.
instinct kicks in. no longer is this you and your celebrity crush, this is you and a girl who wants you, a girl who needs you, if the way that sana’s hips cant up into your mouth is anything to go by. sana sends a hand down and tangles it into the hair on the back of your head, keeping your mouth against her while she bucks her hips and gyrates against your mouth.
it’s really fucking hot, is the first thing that crosses your mind. and there’s no second thing, because you lose yourself in it all. sana’s enthusiasm is smearing her arousal all over your chin but you fucking love it, love the way that sana just can’t seem to get enough of your mouth.
“yes, baby,” sana mounts out encouragements between whimpers. “yes!”
you’ve never been called baby before, but you decide that you like it coming from sana’s lips. you double your efforts in response, wrapping your lips around sana’s aching slit and lashing your tongue against it. sana bucks her hips again when you do that, lets out a few more murmured encouragements and a gasped ‘fuck’, and you hum against sana’s center in approval.
you realize that sana’s going to come really fucking soon if you keep this up, and while the thought is an encouraging one, you aren’t quite ready to be done yet. you slow down the ministrations of your tongue, moving away from sana’s sensitive clit to drag lazy paths up and down sana’s folds, while bringing up a hand to spread sana open for you.
“do you want...?” you ask, lifting your mouth from sana’s center as you dip the tip of an exploratory finger into sana’s opening.
“god, yes,” sana groans, lifting her hips off the bed in an attempt to get your mouth back on her. “do what you want, y/n. fuck me. i need... yeah, just like that.”
you go straight in with two fingers, knowing that sana's more than ready for both, and you let out another hum of delight at the sensation of sana clenching deliciously around your digits. you curl your fingers against sana’s front wall, seeking out the erogenous area that you know will drive sana crazy, and you know you're successful when sana’s back arches off the bed and a husky groan erupts from her throat.
“fuck. y/n, just like that.”
you speed up your motions, thrusting two fingers in and out, and lean down against to put your mouth against sana’s center. there’s no pretense anymore, no need for further delay. you need to see sana come for you and you need to see it soon. you swipe your tongue against sana’s folds once, twice, then dive right in, giving sana’s clit the unwavering attention of your lips and tongue while your fingers slowly work sana higher and higher.
“shit, baby. i’m gonna…”
no amount of warning could prepare you for sana’s orgasm. you know it’s been building but it still takes you by surprise, from the way sana’s hips lift off the bed, to the shout of pleasure that escapes her lips. you use your free hand and splay it over sana’s hips, keeping them anchored to the bed, while you use your fingers of the other, still buried in velvety warmth, to coax yet more sounds from sana’s mouth.
sana’s body stutters through the climax, trembling beneath you with unpredictable jerks, and even when you think you’ve drawn the last of sana’s pleasure from her, sana’s body still twitches once more, before she collapses onto the bed with a contended sigh.
you withdraw your fingers and wipe them on your thigh, not minding the sticky mess they leave behind, then crawl up sana’s body.
“did i do okay?” you ask, because even though sana obviously just came for you, you need to know if it was good enough, need to know if you’ve done enough for sana to stick around long enough to return the favor.
sana’s hands pull your head down for a kiss. there’s almost too much tongue, but when you realize that sana is merely tasting herself on your lips, you decide that there can be no such thing as too much tongue, and you let sana’s filthy kiss take control.
“you’re so cute,” sana mumbles against your lips, her mouth turning up into a smile. “way more than okay.”
in a sudden move that takes you by surprise, sana flips you both over and hovers above your body with a predatory smile on her face. she lowers her mouth to your neck, closing her teeth over your pulse point and sucking what is going to turn into a dark mark into the pale skin there, before moving even lower.
“what was it you were saying earlier?” she asks, between kisses that draw a path over the swell of your breasts and down towards your navel. “i believe you used the words ‘feminist icon’. why don’t you tell me a bit more about that while i eat you out?” 
your head falls back against the pillow and your hand finds the back of sana’s head. the moan that spills from your throat when sana’s lips close around your clit can probably be heard from the hotel lobby many floors below.
///
six months later
you hum a jaunty tune under your breath as you slot your key into the front door of your apartment. you smell like an airplane, and you haven’t eaten all day but none of that matters when you’re still riding the high of a weekend spent in your girlfriend’s bed. 
you’ve been dating sana for six months now, and it still feels a little bit like a dream that you’re praying you’ll never wake up from. that night in sana’s hotel room was one of the best of your life, and once the two of you were done exploring each other’s bodies over and over again, the two of you both stayed up talking into the early hours of the morning until you both were too tired to stay awake any longer.
as you push open the front door and drag your small suitcase inside the apartment. you smile to yourself at the memory of that night and the morning that followed. if sana asking you out for a drink was surreal, if sana taking you back to her hotel room and fucking you until you couldn’t remember your own name was surreal, then nothing could have prepared you for sana inviting you along to the second day of her photoshoot the following day, nor the way that sana took you twice in her dressing room during her lunch break, nor the relationship that blossomed from there.
it’s been a really great six months.
“tzuyu?” you call out into the apartment, leaving your suitcase by the door and walking toward your roommate’s bedroom. “you in?”
“yeah!” comes tzuyu’s reply.
you push open the door to tzuyu’s room and find your friend sitting up against the headboard of her bed, her laptop on her thighs, which she moves to the side when she sees you standing in the doorway.
“so, how was your weekend away?” tzuyu asks.
“it was good,” you grin.
‘good’ doesn’t even begin to cover your weekend spent with her, but then none of the other words in the dictionary do either. you don’t think you’re going to be able to stop grinning for days.
“have you been on instagram lately?” tzuyu asks.
“no, why?” you frown, fumbling for your phone in your jacket pocket and opening up the app.
“take a look at your girlfriend’s latest post,” tzuyu tells you, her voice full of glee and eyes lit up with delight.
you scroll down your feed until you find the photo in question and read the caption.
there’s nothing quite like letting your girl take it off you at the end of a long shoot…
your eyes flit up to the picture, a photo of a pair of lacy underwear lying discarded on the floor, and heat rises to your cheeks as you realize that sana must’ve taken the photo while you weren’t paying attention.
the thing is you recognize the underwear. in fact, you remember picking the set out at the mall specifically to wear on this trip to visit sana, and you remember the nerves you felt while putting them on and wondering whether sana would like what she sees, and you remember the satisfaction of sana popping open the clasp of the bra and drawing the lacy panties down your legs with only her teeth.
“shit,” you groan, letting your head fall against tzuyu’s doorframe with a soft thud.
“what?” 
“that’s not even a picture of sana’s underwear.”
tzuyu’s shriek of glee is a sound that isn’t going to leave you in a long while.
probably the most requested one...
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muzansfangs · 4 months
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You always wanted me.
Starring: Rengoku Kyojuro x f!reader; mention to past relationship with Sanemi;
Format: one-shot;
Warnings: nsfw, modern au, vaginal sex, creampie, unprotected sex, language, use of alcohol, drunkness, drunk sex but consensual, breeding kink, semi-public sex, mention to past relationship with Sanemi, cheating thought in past relationship;
Plot: A night in a pub and a failed date led you to drink away your sorrow. Unfortunately, the main reason behind your problems shows up and your tipsy state does not help you to keep your tongue tied. Too many shots of tequila, the man you have always wanted so ardently and a restroom were the ingredients required to make your heart burn that very night.
Author note: it is rare for me to put the author note on top of a one-shot, but in order to prevent possible drama to happen, I needed to clarify a thing: this fic is an old work of mine posted on my old Ao3 account and my old Wattpad profile. While I cannot log anymore into Ao3 for some reason, I can still log into my old Wattpad profile and I will try to gradually delete my old works as I fix and rewrite them! Do not worry and enjoy this little scrap!
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“Another one!” you slurred, slamming the empty glass on the counter before you. It was your fourth shot. You were not used to drink that much, especially in a public place. The thing was you definitely had a good reason to drink down almost a whole bottle of tequila alone. You had just been stood up by a guy you had asked out to forget about your crush.
Your real crush. Or in other terms, the reason behind the loop of failed dates you had fallen into because he was so unapproachable. You wished you could forget about him, but nothing and no one could ever take his place in your heart. Why did he have to he that kind of guy that literally ruin your rationality and the chance to enjoy the company and the small attentions other men could provide you?
Disheartened, you sighed and propped your elbows on the counter in annoyace, waiting for the barman to fill your glass once again. No matter how hard to tried to ignore him, you always found yourself back at daydreaming about his piercing orange and red eyes.
Why could you not forget about him and his dazzling smile?
Whenever someone else had a chance to pick your interest and finally make you move on, something methodically went wrong. Maybe you had been jinxed.
A small smile curved your lips, when the guy in front of you carefully slided the drink in your direction. As soon as the smile appeared, it dropped, though. Someone hastily grabbed your glass and elegantly brought it to his lips, preventing you from enjoying your feast. How dare him steal your drink in such a dreadful night?
You were about to throw a punch at that rude man, but when your head snapped towards him you gaped in shock. Blinking skeptically, you gawked and your mind went blank for several seconds. That must have been a joke.
“What the Hell?” you babbled out, rolling your eyes in despair. If bad luck had a name, it would have definitely been yours. Those combined phenomena were indeed persuading you to believe some witch had cursed you for real.
“Fancy meeting you here, Y/N! Mind if I join you? You seem pretty upset. What's happened?” Kyojuro casually asked, sitting right next to you.
“You happened! - you asserted, darting your eyes on the barman - Another one, please” you asked, or better pleaded him, folding your arms over your chest.
Now you truly were irritated. Not only he pestered your mind day and night, but he also had the audacity of stealing your drinks and clubbing in your favorite place.
The blonde man chuckled and shook his head at you “Come on, don't hold a grudge. I have actually done it on purpose. I have to confess that I have been watching you for a while now. I don't think you should drink that much, you know?” he said softly, his eyes trailing up to your face. For a second, he seemed genuinely concerned.
Kyojuro Rengoku had always had a crush on you. He would have asked you out, if Sanemi had not messed up his plans by fooling around with you. After your break-up, he had noticed some changes in your behavior. You seemed not to care about anyone anymore. It was like you were running away from feelings and Kyojuro could not stand the rumors of you sleeping around with tons of strangers to possibly fill a void in your heart. It hurt him.
He was meant for loving you, not those bottom-dwellers you occasionally spent your nights with.
“So you're a watcher now! How cute! I don't need a babysitter, I can take care of myself” you blurted out, squinting your eyes and trying your best to act cool.
Unfortunately, your body had had enough. Your vision was getting blurry. You hated to admit it, but you were actually glad he was there to watch over you, even if you wanted to rip his face to shreds.
But just like your body, your mind began to wander in the very places you were trying to keep it awat from.
You glanced at him, your heart sinking into your chest at the sight your eyes had been blessed with. Kyojuro, drink in hand, was moistening his lower lip with his tongue. He seemed to be mulling something over. Maybe, he was just offended by your arrogance, or maybe he had a date and he was regretting having approached you.
Actually, you did not care. Happy, sad, angry or thoughtful it was Kyojuro. It was him, the only one your heart desired.
Oh, the things you wanted him to do with his tongue.
It was not a good time for fantasizing, though. You clenched your jaw, reaching your hand out to grab your glass, but you lost your grip on it and the shot slipped from your hand. The liquor inevitably spilled on Kyojuro's white shirt, making him stand up in shock. You wanted to apologize, your mouth was already opened, but you gawked when you spotted the outline of his toned, chiseled chest underneath the material of his shirt.
“Uhm... I— Kyo, I'm sorry! Let me help you” you stuttered, searching for a tissue in your purse. How stupid of you.
He was soaked, how could a tissue solve his problem or make it better?
You groaned in frustration, frenetically rummaging through your bag when Kyojuro's voice stopped you.
“Wait, it's okay, really! Let's go to the restroom. The dryer might help me” he reasoned, suddenly encircling your waist and pulling you towards him. Was it real? You blushed and tried to distance yourself from him, but the only reaction you got in return, was being held even tighter.
You frowned and shot him an interrogative glance, which was returned by a bright smile “Hey, you know, I can walk without you leading me around like a toddler” you pinpointed, rolling your eyes in feigned contempt. How could you deny you loved the feeling of being in such a close proximity with him?
Kyojuro, on the other hand, sighed and pushed the door of the restroom opened to let you in first “If you were fine, we would have not had a problem now. Why do you always have to be a bitch, anyway?” he asked you, undoing the first buttons of his shirt right away.
Not even firing something back, you froze solid and turned your face to the opposite side of the room, trying to ignore the urge to contemplate the celestial vision dazzling you in the restroom of a pub. You were not capable of saying a word. Your brain was fuming.
'What the fuck, Kyojuro?! Can't you just leave?' you thought, rubbing your temples to ease the pressure a tad bit.
“I’m talking to you. Look at me” he said then. You felt his gaze boring holes on the back of your head, but you knew that facing him meant losing your self-control.
“You know, I am fine staring at the wall. Don't you—…”you tried to talk back, but Kyojuro forcefully spun you around. He was done with you and the childish attitude of your drunk self.
Your hair whipped your cheeks, as you found yourself lost into a pair of orange and red orbs scrutinizing your face. Well, that was your end.
Your lips parted and you gulped nervously at the sight before your eyes. A shirtless Kyojuro was holding both your wrists in his huge hands, your eyes travelling down his toned chest and abs. Could it be even worse? Yes, it actually could.
“I'm still waiting for an answer” he stated, arching a thick eyebrow up.
You cleared your throat and shook your head “I'm not going to give you one” you murmured. Was it really that hard to understand that your behavior was your only defense against your love for him?
After all, you had screwed up your long-lasting relationship for him.
Kyojuro stared at you for a few seconds, then he swiftly pushed your back against the wall. Your hands were easily pinned up above your head, as he towered over you in a iron grip. The message was crystal clear. He did not want you to move.
You were stunned in silence, your breath hitched, as his face was now dangerously close to your mouth.
“What the fuck are you doing?” you breathed out, your voice betraying you. You liked this physical contact way too much to keep on fronting.
The blonde man in front of you cracked a smile “I'm trying to solve the problem once and for all. I know why you and Sanemi broke up. — he started — He told me you screamed my name, as you climaxed around him”.
He knew.
You blushed and gawked at his words. He had just thrown facts at your face. You had been exposed. Was it really necessary denying the truth any longer? No, it was not. What about your sense of shame? It was long gone, after the amount of alcohol you had gulped down. You were not even mad at Sanemi for having blabbed out your little secret. This was just above you.
You glared at Kyojuro, tilting your head to the side to contemplate his face properly. He was handsome as Hell. You wanted him and you wanted him now. You had always wanted him.
“Well then, I guess the comedy is over. I should be thankful to Sanemi for having exposed me like that. I finally can get what I wanted from the very beginning” you said, before hungrily smashing your lips against his ones.
It took a moment for him to realize what you were doing, and maybe you were pretty shocked too by your boldness, but once your taste indulged on his tongue he gained courage and kissed you back.
Your tongues danced together, soft moans left your mouth, when Kyojuro inevitably began to lead the way.
You felt like you were on a burning ship, without any lifeboat you could jump in to escape your fate. Still, you did not fight for your life. You were happily embracing your destiny. You had chosen it yourself. You had broken the curse affecting you for years.
When his lips left yours, your breath was uneven but your eyes sparkled with a savage lust he could not ignore and it was enough for him to unbuckle his belt and slip his calloused hand underneath your dress.
Words were superfluous, you both needed your release. Your hunger was fuel to his burning desire. Kyojuro was usually the calm and collected guy everybody got along with. Getting to see what laid underneath that cheerful and respectful façade was sending you straight to cloud nine.
The moment his fingers made their way beneath your panties and reached your slit, he sighed and began to stroke your bundle of nerves in circluar motions “We won't need much foreplay. You are so damn wet” he whispered, drawing invisible circles on your clitoris.
You were breathless. Whimpers and whines erupted from your throat as you bucked your hips against his hand. You were such a mess he envied Sanemi for having got you before he did.
“Please, please, Kyojuro, I need you... Don't waste time” you breathed out, grinding your hips against his hand.
Hearing those words falling from your lips, the blonde man shoved two fingers into your core and slowly pumped them in and out of your entrance. You loved how dominant he was, you loved the way he seemed to ignore you and your needs. Everything he did was magic.
“Gosh, you're such an impatient brat” he joked, watching your mouth resembling the shape of an o. Sinful moans erupted from your throat and you digged your nails onto his shoulders not to collapse onto the floor. You were close and he knew it. He could feel it by the way your walls squeezed his fingers, almost sucking them in. Therefore, he hastily pulled them out of you, much to your dismay.
You whined for the sudden emptiness you were experiencing and your eyes locked with his one in a pleading glance. Kyojuro unzipped his pants and pulled them down enough to allow his member to spring out of his boxers.
You blushed, as his hand found its way to your dripping core again. He easily pushed your panties aside and hooked your right leg up on his hip for a better access.
You could feel his hot breath fanning your lips and his bulge pressing against your entrance, collecting your juices as a lube.
“Are you okay? Can I go ahead?” he asked, kissing you gently then.
You nodded and cupped his cheek in your hand, pressing your forehead against his one “Drunk or not, I love you” you whispered, confessing your feelings after years of fears and tears.
Kyojuro held you close to him and finally entered you, earning a loud moan of pleasure from you. He waited for you to adjust to his size, a strained moan rumbling from deep in his chest as he pushed himself into you slowly, inch after inch. Gasping and moaning softly, you felt your walls adapting to him and once he was buried deep into you, Kyojuro gently pulled out a bit. He started pounding into you slowly but passionately, filling you in places no one had ever reached before.
You screamed his name, not worrying about being in a public place and Kyojuro muffled your moans with his tongue anyway.
“Tell me how badly you wished it was me and not him back in time. Tell me. Tell me how many times you wanted to fuck me on your shared bed” he stated, slamming into you a little faster now.
You moaned his name, your legs shaking as you lolled your head back in ecstasy “Countless times” you said, as he gripped your face by your jaw, forcing you to look at him.
“I'm not pulling out, you know that?” he rasped, hitting the perfect spot inside you as your eyes locked.
It was the perfect ending, something long overdue. You kissed him enjoying every minute of it until the very end. You came with a loud moan, he following right after you. You felt his seed filling you up to you cervix, as he peppered your face in small, affectionate kisses. He was perfect, this was perfect.
“You're coming home with me tonight” he breathed out, caressing your cheekbones before pulling out of you.
You were finally his.
AUHTHOR NOTE.
Hello there! Welcome to ‘AUTHOR NOTE PART TWO’, lmao. I intended to post this yesterday but I really fell asleep after dinner on the couch. I only woke up when my boyfriend came back home and his dog began to run and bark to tell me he was opening the door. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this one! I love Kyo with a passion and I wanted to show him some love too!
As per usual, likes, comments and reposts are greatly appreacited!
TAGS: @doumadono @electronicwitchcollection @mrskokushibo
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invisiblestringmm · 5 months
Text
chapter two
cut open my heart, right at the scar
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chapter index
author: thank you for staying. feedback will be greatly appreciated!
warnings: soft smut, alcohol mention, drinking, anxiety mention.
word count: 2.571k
Some people call it faith, a few others call it manifestation. It could be a mix of both — after all, what could be more powerful than an innocent child wishing for something every night as if her life hangs on it?
You didn’t know if the stars and the whole cosmos were aligned precisely to make your daughter happy, but you felt wretched knowing that her happiness meant some tough times ahead for you; all this time, she never had what she wanted the most because you’ve been keeping it from her. 
For a good motive, though.
Knowing you so well, practically as if you shared the same brain, it didn’t take much for Willow to discover what was wrong when she was determined to investigate a little. It began when you called up the office to inform them you’d be working from home due to a sudden heavy cold, then Willow found out that Lily was staying at your parent’s for the next two days; usually, the time she stayed when something was up and you needed time isolated. Then, you ignored her text messages, and also her calls when she decided to insist a bit more, knowing you’d shut off from everyone.
But you couldn’t ignore the banging on your front door.
Willow groaned when she found you still in your pyjamas, dark circles around your usually sparkly eyes, and your hair up in a messy bun. She had her brows furrowed and a large paper bag from your favourite bakery in her hand, you sighed knowing what was probably in it and how much you needed it along with a bottle of red wine - once you were done with work.
“I’ve stalked a little,” she confessed, stepping into your flat once you opened the door a bit more, giving her space. “What are the odds?”
“There aren’t any, it’s called karma and I fully accept my punishment,” you went straight to the point as you threw yourself on the sofa after grabbing the paper bag from Willow’s hands; the freshly baked chocolate muffins and croissants inside relieved your nerves only for a second.
“Don’t say that, Y/n. We both know you had your reasons,” she rubbed your back, making an effort to reassure you the minute she noticed your eyes glistening with tears. Willow had been there through it all, from the night you met Mason. 
FOUR YEARS AGO
The loud music and the bright lights were annoying, to say the least. Still, you were in such a great mood that you couldn’t stop your hips from perfectly moving right and left, to the sound of every beat, and you were having fun. It was Willow’s birthday and, as a sucker for birthdays, your mission was to have the greatest time and make sure your group of friends had a blast too. In your little world, you poured champagne into your best friend’s mouth and allowed her to pour it into yours too, but you knew Willow’s reflexes weren’t the best when sober so why would they be when she was already wasted?
“Fuuuuck!” The black slipper dress was glued to your body, but you couldn’t hold a loud laugh as Willow followed you. “Fuck, fuck! Whatever, fuck! Let’s go get another drink.” 
The thin line between carefree and careless was already there, even more so when you were bold enough to ask for tequila, after shamelessly flirting with the bartender and a few other guys around, and returned to your booth with one bottle in each hand, knowing the group would want some shots. Almost stumbling on the last step that gave you access to the booth, sitting on the burgundy leather sofa, you frowned when a towel was given to you. Looking up, you found that cute guy who you’d been staring at, holding it for you and that big smile that made the corner of his eyes wrinkle flashing at you. 
“I thought you might need this, Miss Champagne.”
“How thoughtful of you to help me with my champagne problems…?”
“Mason.” He winked and your heart skipped a beat. How pathetic, swooning for a guy you just met. At a club, and completely drunk.
Mason was a cute name, but right now you could only think of how it’d sound if he made you moan it. You didn’t know, but he thought about that multiple times since you walked into the booth next to the one he shared with his friends and watched you, he thought of how those hips would move on top of his instead of moving to the beat of each song that filled the place. He thought how badly he wanted to just hold it and make you help move them for him. You were fun, your energy matched his and he was looking for an escape. And, on top of that, you were breathtakingly gorgeous and couldn’t care less for who he was when he told you, and you stated that the only athletes you cared about were swimmers-Italians, to be more specific.
As the night went on and Willow was now forming a line of boys to kiss - twenty, to match her age - you wanted to go and stop her but you knew you wouldn’t be able. Instead, you switched the first guy for one of Mason’s friends and begged him to kiss your friend so good she wouldn’t want any other. Declan was on for the mission and they disappeared together after the kiss. 
You danced together, shared a few more shots of tequila and when Mason asked if you wanted to go to his place, there was no point playing difficult, you both wanted the same thing: fuck each other senseless. He got you all naked before you could even reach the stairs.
“You’re wearing too many clothes, Masey.” You pouted, making him giggle at the nickname. Mentally, he was already fucking you and you could tell that by the way he looked at you. “And you’re perfect just like that, I don’t want you wearing nothing but the adorable flush on your cheeks while you’re here or I might have to punish you.” 
“Hm? I think I’ll put my clothes back on, then.” On your tiptoes, you reached for his lips and brushed them with yours, his warm minted breath making you close your eyes and let out a low and hoarse moan that only worked as an incentive for Mason to grab your thighs and carry you into the living room, straight to his large dark sofa. “Too many clothes, Mason.”
He nodded and quickly got rid of the navy blue Nike hoodie and the basic white shirt at once, leaving his bare chest exposed. Your mouth watered as your eyes wandered through his body, noticing how beautifully sculpted it was, all in the right places. But what caught your attention, innocently for the first time of the night, was the bulge under his faded blue jeans. You gulped.
“Like what you see?” Mason grinned and you quickly nodded, reaching out to unbutton his jeans. He softly slapped your hand. “Why so eager, baby?” The pet name made you moan, along with the tip of his fingers touching your nipples, then between your boobs and making the dangerous way to your lower stomach. 
“Mason…” You felt your pussy clench around nothing and he gave you another grin as he made himself comfortable on the sofa and you watched his head disappear between your legs.
You felt his breath against your pussy, making your eyes roll and your back arch. “Such a beautiful pussy, I bet it tastes so good.” Mason pressed his lips against your inner thigh as his fingers now played with your juices, teasing you, making your whole body shiver and crave his touch. It felt like you were about to lose your fucking mind when he circled your clit with his thumb and his warm tongue played with your folds. Mason’s moans while eating your pussy were heavenly, he knew what he was doing and enjoyed it, but you craved for more. 
“Mason, please,” You whimpered and your eyes met. Those big, brown eyes met yours and he lifted his hea, the sight of his lips wet from your juices making you bite your lower lip as hard as you could.
“Say it.”
“I need your cock inside me, now. I need you to fuck me.”
And he did, each thrust harder and deeper than the previous as Mason devoured you. Your sweat mixed with his, your moans, and the way he fucked you was something else. When his thrusts started to become sloppy and his breathing heavier, Mason quickly flipped you so you could ride him and your only goal was to make that man cum so hard he’d forget his name. 
“You take me so well, Y/n. Such a good girl.” You felt your pussy clench around him when he praised you. Leaning your body forward, you held his jaw with your hand and let it slowly slip to his throat. Mason just nodded and you grinned, finally squeezing it softly, making him moan louder. 
“You gonna cum for me, Mason?” He nodded again, holding your hips steady as he now moved his hips up again at his own clumsy pace. “Then look at me when you do it and while I cum all over your cock.”
He repeatedly moaned your name, his grunts only encouraging you to squeeze his throat a bit harder, letting it go when a final loud grunt parted his lips and he came, followed by you, with your body finally crashing onto his.
“That was fucking great.” Mason giggled and you nodded in return, giggling too as you rolled to the side. 
“For drunk sex, it was.” Looking down at his body once again, to appreciate the view next to you, you instantly frowned when you noticed his uncovered and still-hard cock. “Mason, I thought you were wearing a condom?”
PRESENT DAY
The streetlights softly brightened your living room in the most soothing yet nearly depressing way; Willow was gone for a few hours, leaving you and your memories to yourself. During the day, you didn’t talk much about your current situation and what you’d do - if you’d do anything or just let things happen, and go with the flow, but still with some sort of control over the whole thing. Your thoughts were everywhere but also focused on two people: Lily and Mason. You knew that, eventually, you’d find yourself in this situation - it was painful, it made it hard to even breathe, and you never really prepared for it because deep down you spent four years hoping it would take lots and lots of years for Mason to be in your life again, as unfair as it was to Lily. And being unfair to your own daughter was, by far, the most disgusting thing you could do in life. She brought you nothing but love and joy. 
Willow would often say that before being a mum, you were a human being. A woman who had been hurt by a man, and then you had to raise this man’s child. But you knew you couldn’t use this excuse anymore, it was time to face the consequences of keeping Lily hidden from her father and his family, and above all, stop punishing your daughter for your poor choices in life.
Your phone buzzed with a text from Jaz asking if the plans you had for Saturday were still up, and you apologised saying that you had the flu, but that Lily was more than allowed to go and you’d talk to your mum to arrange everything. After another lie to protect yourself, since there was no flu, you thought that maybe opening a bottle of white wine would help you through what it would be a long night awake, alone with your own thoughts and desperate attempts to minimise all the collateral damage that would find its way into your life once you revealed the truth. First to your daughter, then you’d have to hunt Mason Mount again.
His reaction was what frightened you the most. What would he do? What would he say?
Would he take Lily from you?
Would he hate Lily and reject her?
Every question that crossed your mind blurred your sight, made your heart clench and felt like a stab right through your heart. 
You would never let him take Lily from you, but the thought of him rejecting her was just as painful, because that little girl was something else and she deserved the whole world. She deserved a daddy that would be entirely devoted to her, just like yours had been since the day you were born.
Already feeling your body welcoming the familiar floating sensation caused by the wine, you allowed yourself to stalk Mason a little - something you hadn’t done in the longest time. It didn’t surprise you that he still looked pretty much the same. Everytime you caught his face on TV, you avoided looking too much because it hurt and bothered you deeply, but now, scrolling through his pictures you noticed that his smile was still the same and the wrinkles around his eyes was something Lily had inherited. The soft redness on his nose too. Lily had a lot of him, even if you knew so little about Mason, despite sharing a life with him.
The Instagram “message” button burned under your finger, but you went back to scrolling through his pictures, because what exactly would you say? 
“Hi, remember me? That day I went to your house and you shoved me off, I was going to tell you I was carrying your child so I’ve decided to hide her from you for a period of four years”.
Gosh, what a fucked up situation you were in. Besides, what was the chance he’d actually reply?
Liking one of his pictures was subtle, he wouldn’t notice. One like amongst the millions he was getting post World Cup. You’d let the universe decide if things should run its natural course or you’d have to put yourself in a situation you’ve lived before: ringing his doorbell and telling him the biggest news of his life, but four years later, and pray for the best outcome there could be of this situation. You wondered what your family would say, what his family would say, how everyone would treat you after but you couldn’t expect much. You were hiding a child from her own right to have both sides of her family whilst growing up, despite your personal reasons. 
What would the media say, if it ever came to that? 
“Heavens, I think I’m gonna vomit…” You mumbled, the combination of alcohol and thoughts of your daughter’s precious face in the media, on gossip websites, made some tears fall freely down your cheeks. You still forced a large gulp of wine, to ease the anxiety that was creeping in. Half of the bottle was gone.
You fucked up, greatly and badly.
With tears still wetting your cheeks, looking absolutely pathetic, you frowned at the notification that popped on your screen. 
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Mason Mount was officially back into your life.
In fact, he never really left. You had the most special part of him with you, and you could only hope he’d see it the exact same way.
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lo-vearchive · 9 months
Text
Forgive Me (Pt. 2)
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Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x female reader
Summary: After reconciling in your bedroom, Miguel disappears on you for a week. Giving up on any hopes of romance, your friends plan a night out for you to cheer up. Too bad your boss makes an appearance and catches you with an attractive stranger on a stormy night. Read Part One: here
Word Count: 4463 words
Content: Miguel being a rude bastard, Miguel asking for forgiveness (again), arguments, possessiveness, alcohol consumption, tobacco consumption, 18+ (minors DNI), no p in v but things get spicy at the end, female fingering, finger sucking, misogyny, insecurity, swearing, hurt and comfort, office sex (no p in v), questionable Spanish
Note: ANGST! Got carried away once again. Lowkey not proofread. I love angst and Miguel being vulnerable.  If you are into angst, you will enjoy this. Feel free to correct my Spanish and ask for any other cw to be added. Thank you for the 1K+ notes on Pt. 1. Have fun, horndogs ;)
It has been seven days since you last saw Miguel O’Hara.
After spending a full 48 hours by your side, he had gone back to work. You decided to join him at Alchemax the next day but found his office empty. At first, you thought he was occupied with Spider-Man business, so you kept yourself busy with answering his overflowing email box. Slowly the sun set behind the skyline of Nueva York and the messages ran out, leaving behind a feeling of uneasiness in your stomach.
 You [sent Friday, 6 pm]: Hey, are you coming to work today?
You [sent Friday, 10 pm]: I’m going home for the night. Call me when you are home. I miss you :)
You [sent Saturday, 5 am]: Are you okay?
You [sent Saturday, 1 pm]: I’m getting really worried. Where are you?
You [sent Saturday, 5 pm]: I emailed you in case you lost your phone. Call me asap.
You [sent Sunday, 7 pm]: I’ll see you at work tomorrow.
You [sent Monday, 9 am]: Lyla said you’re okay but won’t tell me what’s going on. Says I don’t have clearance. Please call me.
You [sent Monday 10 am]: Are you actually ignoring me?
You [sent Tuesday, 1 am]: My best friend you’re an asshole and I should never let you near my pussy ever again.
You [sent Tuesday 1:23 am] Are you ghosting me? You know we work together, right?
You [sent Tuesday, 3:30 am]: I hate you Miguel O’Hara.
 Friday rolled around and your best friend had enough of your drunk late-night facetime calls. She gathered a group of your high school girlfriends and decided a night out in the town would be the perfect remedy. “Fuck him, babe,” Katy states, sliding a shot glass across the table. “You should report him to HR for being an ass.”
You laughed and tipped the glass into your mouth. The tequila burnt its way down your throat. “I’m just going to find a new job. I can’t be dealing with this shit right now.”
Your friend Soo let out a burp. “Did you let him hit it?”
You shake your head. “No,” you cough. “We came close to it, like above the pants stuff— do you think that’s why he’s ignoring me? Because I didn’t put out right away?”
“Bitch,” Katy chides, slapping the tabletop, “be fucking for real. You look like a busty, hot secretary from some comic book. He should be lucky you let him touch your tits!”
Your friends nodded along in agreement. Katy grabs the sides of your chair and spins it around, facing you to the restaurant bar. “You see that guy there?” she points at a man with messy blond hair in an open-collar white shirt. “He’s been eyeing you all night. Go talk to him right now.”
The tequila must have heightened your bravery as you found yourself walking across the dimly lit restaurant and to the wall. Stealing a glance at him from the corner of your eye, you ask the bartender for, “a rum and coke please.”
“You can add her drink to my tab,” the man says just like you hoped he would. “I hope you don’t mind. I saw your friends fussing over you earlier and you looked like you needed a drink.”
“Is it that obvious?” You ask, letting out a laugh. “You’re right, I do need a little pick-me-upper tonight.”
“My name is John,” he says.
You introduced yourself and slide in the empty seat next to him. “So, what’s going on with you?” he questions, sipping his beer.
You carefully lift your drink from the bar top and circled the rim with your index finger. “I’m not sure if I wanna’ trauma dump on a stranger.”
“Sometimes talking to strangers helps.”
You contemplate his words and sigh. Your friends would kick you if you said the name Miguel O’Hara again in their general vicinity. You chose to divulge a little to the mystery man. “Things got a bit complicated with someone I really cared about. Everything was going well and then he disappeared suddenly, and I don’t know why.”
John listens to you carefully, nodding to himself. “You know what I do when I’m confused?”
“What?”
“I take a smoke break to chill out,” he answers, standing up. “Care to join me?”
You downed the contents of your glass and follow him out a door that open to a back alley behind the restaurant. Rain pours down heavily, and you both huddle under a dingy metal shed. The cold air bites your arms sharply as John lights the end of his cigarette and brings it to his mouth. “It can be frustrating when you’re left without answers but a girl like you has nothing to worry about.”
You smile at his words. You take the cigarette off his hand and take a drag. The smoke fills your lungs, making your head spin a little. The light-headedness reminds you of how you felt last time when Miguel was in your arms. Airy, free, and light. No matter what you do, all your thoughts lead back to him. You shake away the memories and pass the cigarette back to John.
“What the hell are you doing out here?” a stern voice asks.
A man melts out of the shadows in the alley and into the light shining from a streetlamp above. You recognize him. “Miguel?”
He doesn’t look at you and keeps his eyes focused on John. “Who is he?” he asks with a deep frown.
“Listen, I’m off work right now,” you clear your throat, sticking your nose up in the air. “I don’t have to explain—”
“Look, man,” John interrupts, “no need to get all worked about this. We are just talking.”
Miguel lets out a harsh laugh. “Yeah, right,” he spits and gets in his face. “You could have done that at the bar. Why the fuck are you out here alone with her? What were you planning on doing?”
“Mr. O’Hara!” you exclaim, stepping in between them. “You are out of line!”
He raises his eyebrows at your formality but keeps his attention on John over your shoulder.  “Buddy,” John says, wrapping an arm around your waist and moving you to the side. “She is allowed to talk to whoever she wants. I suggest you leave us alone now.”
The touch doesn’t go unnoticed by Miguel. His nostrils flare and his eyes turned red with anger. He steps closer to John until he is looming over the poor man. You often forget how big your boss is compared to everyone around him. The scene looks almost comical with how John tries to puff out his chest. “Te calmas o te calmo,” (Calm yourself, or I’ll calm you down) Miguel snarls.
Whatever John sees in his face is enough to make him reconsider. He holds his hands up in surrender and backs away slowly. Stopping in front of you he pushes the half-burnt cigarette into your hand and whispers, “If this is the guy you were talking about, then maybe it’s a good thing he disappears. I’ll be inside if you still want to talk.”
He walks away from the alley and into the restaurant, leaving you with Miguel alone in the alley. You watch in silence as his body trembles, and you can’t tell if it’s from anger or the rain hammering away at his back.
He breaks the silence. “So, you’re letting strangers into our private business?”
You snort loudly. “You don’t get to speak to me like that,” you tell him, taking another drag. “Especially after disappearing on me. You can’t just strut back into my life and tell me who I can confide in.”
“I was tending to some urgent matters,” he says, brushing his wet hair away from his forehead. “So I took the time to handle them. I can’t be around you every second of the day acting as your lap dog.”
The heat from the cigarette burns your skin. “What the hell is wrong with you?” you raise your voice, throwing your hands in the air. “You’re acting like I want you on a leash! I just wanted to know you were okay.”
“Clearly I’m okay,” he replies, rolling his eyes.
Your lips tug into a deep scowl at his tone. “Did you ever stop to consider how your actions affected me? How lost and confused I felt waiting by the phone every day?”
“It wasn’t intentional,” Miguel matches your tone. “You know I am a busy man, and that I have responsibilities. But you’d rather live in some fantasy land where I’m just some monster out to hurt you! You can’t begin to understand the weight I carry on my shoulders.”
Anger surges through your body. “How am I supposed to understand when you don’t tell me anything? Hell, your AI knows more about you than I do. It’s like you only care about missions or work and nothing else—”
“Sometimes in life, personal matters have to take a backseat,” he cuts you off, harshly. “Not everyone can put on a short skirt and high heels, waltz into work, type a few memos and then call it a night.”
“You misogynist fuck!” You scream back at him, resisting the urge to slap him silly. “I hate you!”
“I hate you too!” he yells back in your face with bloodshot eyes.
You spin on your heels and begin walking towards the main road. Rage begins to bubble inside you and reaches your throat. You turn around just as you reach the sidewalk and call out, “You know what? It doesn’t matter if you disappear again because I have hated you since the moment I met you. I hated you when everyone at work warned me about you. I hated you all those times you dismissed me like an afterthought. And I hated you when you came to my room that night begging for a second chance. So, I don’t care if you hate me, or think I’m useless or unimportant cause have hated you longer and harder and for better fucking reasons!”
You take another drag from the cigarette and then crush it underneath your pretty high heels. You make a right at the end of the alley and begin walking up the street. Warm tears spill down your face as you shiver in the rain. Katy was right, he was an asshole. An asshole that made you feel dumb for having a normal job or human emotions. But maybe you were just an idiot for falling in love with a man who didn’t respect you. Love wasn’t supposed to be this hard, but here you were feeling small and crying at the side of the road.
The sound of screeching tires brings you out of your self-pity. A sleek black car pulls up on the other side of the road and the passenger window rolls down. Miguel’s face emerges from behind the glass. “Ven aquí!” (come here) he calls out.
You ignore him and keep walking ahead. You have no idea where you are going, but you would rather eat rocks than speak to him.
From the corner of your eyes, you see Miguel make a sharp left, almost hitting oncoming traffic and pulling up beside you. “Get in the car!”
Your feet don’t stop moving so he slowly inches his car to match your speed. “Estoy harto. (I’m sick of this) Let’s talk!”
Honks and yells filled the night as people grew frustrated with his speed. “Stop,” you hiss, bending down to the window. “You are embarrassing me!”
“Get in the car then,” he says, with a clenched jaw. “You’re gonna’ catch a cold in the rain.”
“Stop pretending like you care,” you snarl, kicking the side of his car.
“A-YO LADY!” a man yells out of his yellow cab. “Get in the damn car! Your boyfriend is holding up traffic!”
A pleased smirk spread across Miguel’s face at the man’s remarks. You let out a frustrated grunt and yanked the door open, slipping into the passenger seat. “Put your seatbelt on,” he says, picking up speed.
You begrudgingly obey but wished that his car would get rear-ended so hard that his fat head would go through the windshield. “You look like you want me dead, babe,” he commented with a nervous laugh.
“Don’t call me that,” you snap, adjusting the belt over your soaking dress. “Where are we going?”
“Back to Alchemax,” he points at the GPS screen. “The freeway flooded, and it will be a while until it clears up. I have a spare set of clothes I keep in the office for overnighters. You can change while we wait for the storm to blow over.”
“I don’t want your charity,” you grumble, crossing my hand over my chest.
“I know,” he says. “I just want to take care of you.”
You disliked how your stomach felt at his words. “I left my bag behind at the restaurant.”
“I picked it up, it’s in the back seat.”
“I didn’t pay my tab.”
“It’s taken care of. Your friends know you’re fine, too. Just relax.”
Miguel leans over to turn your seat warmer on and warmth spreads across your chest and down your limbs. He drives in silence with only the soft white noise of radio static playing in the background. Occasionally you tear your gaze away from the furiously working windshield wipers and steal glances at his face. The headlights from other cars make the slopes of his cheek and the plumpness of his lips visible even on a stormy night. His warm complexion has turned pale, and you ponder if it was because of your interaction earlier.
You both pull up into the Alchemax parking lot and get out of the car. The security team must be watching through the cameras, wondering why one of their lead engineers was coming into work late at night with his drenched secretary. You quickly follow him into the elevator and up to the floor with his office. He opens the office door, and you slide inside into the dark space.
“Lyla,” he calls out and the room illuminates on command. “Lights.”
Miguel walks up to a storage cupboard and retrieves a towel in one hand and fresh clothes in the other. He passes them to you, and you quietly enter the adjacent washroom to change. You peel your damp dress off your skin and shiver as the chilly air hits you all over. Rubbing the towel quickly over your cold skin, you slip into an oversized t-shirt and shorts. It takes two knots of the drawstring, but you manage to keep the waistband tied around your naval.
You find Miguel waiting for you outside. He had changed into a shirt that hugged his slender waist and pants that hung dangerously low under his taut stomach. He pulls the towel out of your hand and drapes it over your head. His hands gently rub the threads against your wet hair in soft, circular motions. You lean into his touch involuntarily. “I can do it myself,” you complain but made no move to reach for the fabric.
“I know,” he replies. “I want to do it for you.”
“Please don’t.”
“Hmm?”
“You’re doing that thing again,” you said, “and it’s messing with my head.”
“What thing?”
“The thing where you start acting kind after being mean,” you explain in a small voice. “I don’t like it. It’s confusing”
He tugs the towel back so you can look into each other’s eyes. “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad,” he speaks, gently. “I just lost my shit when I saw you with him.”
“You cut off all contact when all I wanted was to know if you were okay,” your voice shakes as you stare at your feet. “You left me all alone, what was I supposed to do? Wait for you to change your mind?”
“I know I messed up, baby. I was wrong” he sighs, inching down his forehead to meet yours. “I should have communicated with you, but sometimes on missions, things get complicated. I don’t always like the things I have to do, and recently I’m having a difficult time making peace with it. It’s like the harder I try to do the right thing, the more damage I do. So sometimes, it’s just better to be alone rather than pretend I’m okay around other people.”
His words hurt your heart. You knew that his missions take a toll on him. In the past whenever you tried to inquire about its contents he wouldn’t answer. You wouldn’t push, afraid that he’d pull away, but it seems that he was pulling away regardless.
“When you’re gone,” you clear your throat, trying to speak through your narrowing trachea, “I worry that you might be laying dead in some universe, and I’d be none the wiser. I know that being Spider-Man is a sacrifice, but I don’t care about the world. I only care about you. So, when you treat me this way, it’s like I can’t breathe.”
He cups your face and places a soft kiss right on your cheekbone “Forgive me.”
“You say that a lot,” you remind him with a frown.
“I know,” he nods, “and I still mean it. I’m just an idiot who doesn’t know how to find the balance in life. I love that you care about me, and I want you to continue caring about me.”
“I don’t know, Mr. O’Hara,” you said. “I can’t ignore the way you speak to me at times. It feels as if you think we’re not equals. I am not some idiot. I am not beneath you just because I work under you.”
He groaned at the sound of his last name. Every time you called him that, it made the space between feel bigger. “I have seen a million universes, nena, (babe) and you are not beneath me in any of them,” he curls a damp strand behind your ear, “Unless we are in bed, then you’re definitely under me.”
“Miguel!” you chide, punching him in the stomach. “No es broma! (It’s not a joke) I’m being serious!”
He lets out an oof and backs away. His fangs poke out from underneath his curled lips and in that moment, he looks as carefree. He wraps his large hands around your arms and holds your attention. “I know broken trust isn’t easily mendable, but I’m going to try my hardest. I won’t leave you out in the dark or make you feel small. I’ll think twice before I open my stupid mouth. I’ll even ask Lyla to give you full access to my missions. Wh-when you see what I have to do- what I must do, please don’t hate me.”
“Miggy,” you pout, reaching for his face. “I was really, really angry when I said those things to you. I can never hate you. My heart won’t let me.”
His toothy grin appears again, and Miguel draws you into him. His smooth lips find yours and he cranes your head back to find the angle that leaves you breathless. You run the pads of your thumb gently across the slopes of his cheeks. It never ceased to surprise you that his skin was so soft under his stubble. Without breaking your kiss, your shuffle back and walk him to his desk chair. You smile into his lips as he shakes his head when you move him back and down to sit. His hands wrap around your wrists. “D-don’t leave,” he cries out.
You shake your head and take a seat on his lap with your legs dangling off the side. Miguel’s hands find your jaw and he turns your mouth to his. You wrap your fingers in his hair and tug him closer. You let out a content hum as his fangs softly dig into your lips, breaking the skin. The taste of metal fills your mouth, and you pull away to look at him. He sits in your embrace, with red-stained lips and is just as breathless. “Sorry,” he sheepishly says. “I usually have them under control. It’s just you’re in my office and in my clothes. It’s making my head spin a little.”
You laugh at his words and gently pull his hair back. Pressing a wet kiss to his exposed throat you ask, “Miggy, how come we haven’t had sex yet?”
“Honestly?” he lets out a choked moan.
“Honestly,” you hum, licking his jaw.
His hands suddenly grab you by the elbows and spin you around on his lap, so his chest is facing your back. His warm breath hits the nape of your neck. A shiver runs down your spine. “I haven’t fucked you yet because once I’m inside you,” he whispers into your ear, “I’ll never want to be anywhere else. I wouldn’t want to eat, sleep, work, or be Spider-Man. I think I’ll just want to stay buried in you all the time.”
“Miguel,” you moan, clutching your thighs together.
“Tsk-tsk,” he clicks his tongue. “Don’t hide from me.”
His large hand slips between your thighs and pushes your legs apart. He turns the chair around until you’re both facing his work desk. “Up,” he commands, slapping the side of your thighs.
You gingerly obey and place your bare feet on the edge of his desk. His hands slip under your shirt, and he fumbles with the knot. Impatient with the knots, he uses a sharp claw to cut through the drawstring. Your breath hitches as he pushes the loose shorts down your legs and off your feet. He wraps his fingers behind your knees and draws your legs apart. He puts his chin over your shoulder and bunches your shirt up to get a good look at your pink underwear. “Baby,” he coos. “You gotta’ let me have this once we are done. A little souvenir for when I’m away.”
Your stomach tightens at his suggestion. You glance at him and then the office door,. “Someone will see us,” you nervously gulp.
“You let me worry about that,” he says and presses a kiss to the side of your forehead, “and just relax. I’m not gonna’ let anyone else see my girl spread out like this.”
He runs his knuckles down your bare stomach and across the clothed cunt. Electricity shoots up your body and you almost curl up in his arms. Miguel’s fingertips find a quickly dampening spot on the fabric. “Huh,” he huffs. “Is this me or rainwater?”
You cry, arching into his touch.
“I guess it’s just me,” he grins against your shoulder.
He slides your underwear off your legs and tosses it on the table. It lands on a pile of paperwork you had put aside from him earlier in the week. Miguel stops breathing at the sight of your glistening, swollen pussy. A loud moan escapes your throat as his fingers part your folds and glide back and forth. You were sure that the security guards patrolling this floor would have heard you down the hallway. You almost miss his question over the sensations of pleasure spreading through your body.
“Do you want my finger inside you?”
You nod against his cheek and reach behind to clutch a fistful of his hair to brace for impact. He lowers his down until his thick, middle digit is nudging your opening. You must have been soaking his thighs with how easily his digit sinks inside. You bit your lip harshly to contain the sounds threatening to escape your mouth. It’s your turn to hold your breath when Miguel’s other hand begins to stroke your clit. Once, twice, thrice.
When he speaks, his voice is hoarse. “You clench around my finger every time I flick your clit.”
Not that you needed proof, but Miguel does it again and you shake with pleasure. “See?” he gasps, and captures your lips in a sloppy kiss.
He he pulls back to hold your eyes and you breathe his shaky breaths in. You close your eyes and imagine how it would look to hold his hard cock in your hands while he played with your pussy. He tears you away from your fantasy by hooking his fingers inside on an angle. You almost arch completely off his lap. He moves his free hand away from your clit and presses you back into him. His hard bulge pressed into your ass.
“Here?” Miguel moans and licks your lips. “Tell me where? Right here? Ah, here.”
His fingers find that spot again and he massages his fingers against it. You nod furiously and my hands move to claw forearms. He softly bites your shoulder in retaliation and his free hand resumes working against your clit, picking up rhythm. “Can I put another finger inside?” he asks, breathing hard. “I promise it will feel good.”
“Oh-kay,” you gasp, rocking your hips on his hand.
His index finger slithers into your pussy, and you forget how to speak. You begin to twist and turn in his lap. He pulls away from your clit to press down hard against your stomach so he can keep you in place. You slide your ass over his crotch with every movement of his fingers.
“Mig-Mig-Mig,” you pant, moving your hips to his set rhythm.
“Good? I bet that feels so good.”
“Gah—”
He presses soft kisses onto your cheek as you sink into his arms. You begin to tighten further around him. You realize that this is exactly how you always want to be—full of Miguel’s fingers, touch, and love. His tongue slips into your mouth as his fingers begin curling into you faster. Your moans and groans echo through the office. His left hand leaves your stomach and reaches for your clit again. It takes seven swipes, one for each day he left you alone, for you to seize around his finger. His mouth never leaves yours as he drinks all of your pleasurable cries.
Slowly, the current leaves your body and you’re able to take in your surround. Your cheeks burn with realization. Miguel had just fingered you open on his desk at your workplace. The very same desk you set up for him every morning. Your fingers slide up to his hair and you hide your face in the crook of his neck. “Don’t be shy now,” he chuckles, “One day I’ll fuck you all over this office, nena.”
You shriek and lightly slap his arm. Miguel gently slides his fingers out of your cunt, eliciting a soft groan, and brings his to his mouth.
He hums with eyes closed at the taste. “You taste so good,” he mumbles around his fingers.
“Ugh,” Lyla gags at a distance. “Be glad I activated noise cancellation.”
A/N: Thoughts?
774 notes · View notes
loudstan · 1 year
Text
Presenting
Summary: Jisung's adoration towards you finally makes sense once he presents.
Pairing: Werewolf! Jisung x Witch! Female reader
Warnings: smut, reader is slightly older, switch Jisung trying to handle his own instinct.
“I told you to bring booze!” was the greeting you received as soon as Jaehyun opened the door.
“Do you think I’m dumb?” you scoffed, pushing a bag of snacks to his chest and taking your shoes off before walking in. “Alcohol is more expensive than snacks. You buy booze.”
 Being friends with Jaehyun could be bothersome:  wake up calls so he didn’t miss lectures, not being able to get a date because everyone would think he was your boyfriend and he always expected you to show up with food or alcohol. But there were also benefits: he would always share his food with you, walk you home if it was getting dark and you got to hang out with him and his brothers for movie nights.
“Can’t you just do that thing you do and make booze appear?” Jaehyun groaned, following you to the living room. You turned towards him and lifted an eyebrow. “Please?” he asked, giving you his best pout which made you laugh out loud.
“Fine,” you sighed, sitting on the floor. “Bring me as many empty bottles as you can find.”
Jaehyun wasted no time and went to do as he had been told the exact same second Jisung made his entrance. He gave you a shy smile and sat down near you.
“Hi, Jisung!” you smiled back brightly. “Ready for a horror movie?”
His smile widened and he opened his mouth to reply, when Jaehyun came back into the room, carrying a bunch of bottles of different sizes and complaining about how a witch of your category should be able to materialize bottles as well.
“Materializing solids is harder than materializing liquids,” you deadpanned what you thought should be obvious. 
“You’re gonna do magic, noona?” Jisung leaned forward and looked at the bottles with curious eyes.
“Why are you here, Jisung?” Jaehyun asked finally acknowledging the younger’s presence. “The movie won’t start yet so you can take a nap or something.”
“I-uh… just wanted to say hi,” Jisung mumbled nervously.
“You always come out of your room as soon as Y/N arrives,” Jaehyun pointed out and chuckled teasingly. “It’s like you can smell her or something.” 
 At this Jisung blushed furiously and his eyes widened as he looked at Jaehyun and then at you, his mouth opening and closing a couple of times but not being able to formulate any words.
“Leave him alone,” you gave Jaehyun a stern look and grabbed Jisung’s hand, ignoring the surprised gasp that left his mouth and pulling him to sit closer to you. “He knows I get in a good mood when I see him, right?”
 Jisung didn’t reply, too stunned looking at the way your small hand barely managed to circle his.
 Jaehyun snorted.
“Sure, he’ll keep you company while I go take a shower then,” he yawned and his figure disappeared into the corridor. 
“Okay, wanna see some magic, Ji-” you turned to look at him and found him placing your palm against his, marveled at the visible size difference. You had never paid proper attention to his hands before; his fingers were long and beautiful and they were lacing with yours now as he let out a soft whisper that sounded like 'so small…'
“Jisung…” you called after you remembered how to breathe. “I need both hands to do magic.” 
“Oh-” He seemed to finally escape whatever trance he was trapped in and let go of your hand hesitantly. “Sorry.”
You smiled at him and gathered the bottles in front of you.
“I would ask you what alcohol you want me to materialize, but you’re too young to drink-” you tried to lighten the mood.
“Just beer is fine,” he said.
“What?” you were sure you had misheard him. There was no way he knew anything about alcohol.
“I mostly drink soju and tequila shots,” he shrugged and helped you reach the bottles that were too far. “But some of the others can’t handle that much, so beer would be better.”
“Uh… sure, then let’s go with beer tonight,” you said and got to work.
 It took you about 20 minutes to fill the bottles with alcoholic liquid. You could have finished sooner, but Jisung was staring intently at your hands made it really hard to concentrate.
 The movie was not as scary as you expected and no one could take it seriously. Some of the guys would randomly scream just to scare the others and they ended up getting drunk and throwing chips at each other.  You on the other hand, had had a long week and your body was starting to give up on you, your eyes closing slowly.
“Noona,” you heard a deep but soft voice on your left, “are you tired?”
You smiled tiredly at Jisung. “Yeah… I should probably go home soon.”
“It’s kind of late, though,” Jaehyun said from your right side. “Wanna spend the night here? We can share my bed.”
“But you won’t let me sleep,” you groaned.
“Oh? Is that an invitation to go back to our old arrangement?” he teased and just then everyone went silent, looking at you both.
“What arrangement?” Yuta asked curiously, breaking the silence.
“It’s nothing,” you said before Jaehyun could answer. “Jaehyun, no,” you hissed only for him to hear.
“Your lose,” he simply said and winked at you.
“Nah, I really wanna know now,” Johnny stopped the movie and turned so he could face his object of interest.
You looked around and saw each of the guys’ faces staring back at you intently. Jisung looked like he was holding his breath.
You then looked at Jaehyun who at least had the decency to look guilty  about letting it slip. You sighed and decided to come clean.
“We used to fuck,” you finally said. 
The collective gasp would have been comical if you hadn’t been the one who caused it. Questions about details were fast to arise.
“How was it?” was the last question heard by everyone and followed mostly by cheering and a couple of reprimands. 
Jaehyun bit his lip, suppressing a smirk before whispering a short “sorry” your way and replying to the question. “Fucking amazing.”
 Louder cheers and some dramatical screams exploded around. 
“If it was so good then why did it stop?” interrupted Ten.
“It was not my decision for sure,” said Jaehyun.
“We just weren’t compatible,” you shrugged.
“He’s all talk, isn’t he?” Jungwoo asked you. “He didn’t make you cum.” he wasn’t asking, but stating a fact.
Everyone waited in silence for your answer, and you looked at Jaehyun apologetically. He lifted his eyebrows in disbelief.
“No way…” he waited for you to laugh and tell him that it was all a joke, that he was the best fuck you’ve ever had and that you would love to do it again. “You did cum, I’m sure.”
“I did. I made myself cum,” you murmured. “You just happened to be there.”
 Some of the members of the pack snorted but tried not to be too loud and hurt Jaehyun’s ego even more. Jisung, who had been silent the entire time next to you, scoffed.
“Anyways,” you continued trying to end the conversation as soon as possible. “What I meant earlier is that I can’t sleep with you in the same bed because you snore, so I would rather go home.” 
 Mark and Haechan in a corner laughed harder at you mentioning Jaehyun’s snoring. 
“It’s late, Y/N,” Taeyong reminded you. “Are you sure? One of us can sleep on the couch and you can take the bed.”
“I’ll take the couch,” Jisung suddenly said. Everyone seemed to be surprised to finally hear his voice. “You can sleep in my bed, noona.”
“No, no.” You quickly said. “I can sleep on the couch-”
“No,” he insisted. “I’m not sleepy yet so I’ll watch some TV instead. I’d rather sleep here.”
“Oh… Thank you, Jisung,” you gave in and everyone went back to their own conversations, standing up to go to bed too.
“Well,” Jaehyun tried to lighten the mood, placing his hand on your thigh. “If you change your mind, I’ll leave my door unlocked-”
A deep growl pierced through the choir of voices and caused a heavy silence to reign in the living room. Everyone stood in shock, looking at the source of the threatening sound: Jisung, with his fists clenched and a slight glimpse of red visible in his eyes, set on where Jaehyun’s hand made contact with your body. 
 Jaehyun raised an eyebrow. He seemed to understand what was happening immediately. He wasn’t oblivious to Jisung’s crush on you, but he never thought much of it. It was just a crush, after all. Or was it? He had to make sure…
 Without breaking eye contact with Jisung, Jaehyun slid his hand towards your inner thigh and gave it a soft squeeze. Something that you would have taken as a friendly touch, not uncommon for you two. But it seemed to set Jisung off, his growl becoming louder and more feral, bearing his teeth as if he was about to bite Jaehyun’s hand off.
“Jisung!” Taeyong’s voice rumbled against the walls and it seemed to get to the youngest member of the pack. Jisung shook his head and looked at his leader, and then at your stunned expression. 
He cleared his throat and coughed a couple of times.
“S-sorry, I think I’m about to catch a cold or… something.”
 When no one said anything, he spoke again. 
“I’ll wash up first.” he mumbled awkwardly and scratched the back of his neck. “My room is all yours to use, noona,” and just like that he scurried away, followed quickly by Chenle.
“You just want your bed to smell like her!” Chenle accused a bit too loud, causing Jisung to shush him and drag him away before he could say something else. Jeno and Jaemin failed to contain their giggles as they left the living room too, and soon other members followed. The last ones to leave were Taeyong and Doyoung, exchanging worried looks and whispers and leaving you and Jaehyun alone. 
 Jaehyun sighed.
 “Our Jisung is a man now, huh?” he said
“What the hell was that? Did he growl at you?!” you still couldn’t believe sweet, shy Jisung had such a side.
“Sure did…”
“Why?!”
Jaehyun didn’t say anything for an entire minute.
“It’s too soon to say,” he finally turned to smile at you and ruffled your hair. “Don’t worry about it yet.”
“Yet?” you repeated as you watched him stand up and make his way out of the living room. “And later?”
“Well…Just don’t play with the poor boy, okay?”
“...what do you mean?” you whispered.
Jaehyun smiled, but he seemed too worried for the smile to reach his eyes.
“Nothing, Y/N… Forget about it. Goodnight…” 
You tossed and turned in Jisung’s bed, failing to fall asleep.You just couldn’t stop worrying about Jisung’s behavior earlier. Was he mad at Jaehyun? Was he mad at you? What if he was actually getting sick and sleeping on the couch made it worse? The pang of guilt you felt was enough to get you out of bed and quietly go to the living room to check on him.
His long body certainly didn’t fit in the couch so his feet were hanging off but  he seemed to be fine overall, sleeping soundly on his back, with hands over his head. You gently placed your hand on his forehead to check on his temperature; he was warm but not enough to alarm you. Letting out a relieved sigh, you stepped away from him, but you hadn’t walked two steps when you heard him call you.
“Noona..” he whimpered softly. 
 You turned to look at him, worried that you had woken him up or that he needed something, but you were met with his sleeping form, eyes closed, breath evened and a content smile like he was having the best of dreams.
“Noona,” he repeated, arching his back slightly and sighing. “You smell so good…” 
 You felt your face heaten up. Was he dreaming of you?
 You waited, but nothing else came out of his parted plump lips. He just laid there pacifically like he hadn’t just made you short circuit. 
 You forced your legs to take you to the kitchen, thinking a cold glass of water would calm you down. Your hands searched for the right cabinet blindly, and then remembered that they had moved the glasses to the top shelf about two weeks ago. You stood on your toes and mentally cursed your height. So you could make alcohol appear but couldn’t reach the top shelf? You weren’t particularly good at levitating objects either so there was no way for you to get a glass. Just when you were about to give up, you felt a warm body behind you and saw a long arm grab a glass over you easily, placing it on the counter in front of you.
 “You wanted this, right?” you heard Jisung’s sleepy voice near your ear as he continued hovering over you.
“Y-yes, thank you,” you stuttered, not daring to move. “Sorry I woke you up.”
“It’s fine,” he mumbled. “The real thing is much better.”
You gulped. He was probably still half asleep and wasn’t making any sense, you thought as you watched him close the cabinet over your head. 
“I never noticed how t-tall you are.” you laughed nervously.
“I’m not particularly tall,” he hummed and you could swear you felt him inhale against your hair, before he let out a soft groan. “You’re just so small.”
 “A-am I?” you asked just for the sake of saying something. All intelligent thoughts had left your brain when he placed his large hands on top of yours on the counter.
“Uh-huh,” he squeezed your hands and pressed his body closer to you from behind, making it impossible not to notice a prominent bulge against your lower back. He hid his face on your neck before he whispered: “I could split you in half.” 
 You moaned out loud before you could think about how wrong this was. This was little Jisung! He hadn’t even presented yet and he had you feeling more hot and bothered than any man before, while whispering such crude things with the softest tone and barely humping your ass. You were losing it for him doing the bare minimum, when you didn’t even know you were attracted to him.
“You sound even better than in my dreams,” he groaned, thrusting against you a bit harder, his hands leaving yours to travel up your arms and finally circle your waist, holding you firmly in place for him to pursue his pleasure. 
 You don’t even know what took over you when you leaned forward into the counter and arched your back with a shaky breath, pressing your behind harder against him and eliciting the most delicious moan out of him.
 “Can’t believe he didn’t make you cum,” he suddenly spit, sliding a hand under your shirt and massaging your breast. “I wouldn’t stop until you’ve soaked the bed,” he groaned, his other hand traveling down the hem of your shorts. “My bed…”
“J-Jisung!” you finally came to your senses and grabbed his hand right as it started sliding into your shorts. “Wait, w-we can’t!”
 He stopped all movement and stilled behind you, slowly raising his head.
“Huh?” was all that came from him as if he was waking up from a trance. And then, he practically jumped away from you like you had burned him. “Noona?!”
 Hesitantly, you finally turned around and looked at him. He looked from his hands to you, eyes flashing red and golden intermittently. Whether he was still panting due to his previous activities or because he was panicking, you didn’t know. 
 “I-,sorry I… I don’t k-know why I… shit, noona I’m so sorry,” he stuttered and stumbled over his own feet as he fled to the bathroom and locked himself in there.
 You stood in the darkness in silence, the glass long forgotten on the counter and your upper thighs uncomfortably sticky due to the wetness you couldn’t stop. Your heart was pounding against your chest like you were a teenager facing her first crush, and all because of Jisung. 
 But his reaction confirmed your theory that he wasn’t really awake and it made you feel incredibly guilty. Had you scared him? What if he felt like you had taken advantage of him and hated you know? 
 You heard the faint singing of birds coming from outside and noticed the room wasn’t as dark anymore and took it as your queue to go home, getting dressed and grabbing your stuff silently, not wanting to face anyone right now.
 Once you got home you took a quick shower and hid under the blankets, falling asleep immediately as if all energy had been suddenly stolen from you. 
You woke up to your phone ringing insistently on your nightstand.
“What?” you sleepy mumbled placing the phone on your ear.
“When did you leave?” Jaehyun’s voice asked.
“Uh I don’t know…early, I guess.”
“Why didn’t you wake me up? I would have walked you home.”
“It’s fine, I got home safe and sound.”
 He hummed and yawned. “Next time wake me up, okay?”
“Okay…” you mumbled and bit your lip, suddenly remembering what had happened last night. “Hey, Jae…does Jisung normally…sleepwalk?”
“Sleepwalk?” he sounded confused. “Uh no, not that I know- why?...did something happen last night?”
“Uh…”
“Hold on, Y/N.”
 You heard faint murmurs being exchanged on the other side of the line and then you heard Taeyong’s voice asking for the phone.
“Y/N, did Jisung go to the room where you were sleeping last night?” Taeyong asked straight to the point.
“NO!” you basically yelled. “No, of course not.”
“Did he do or say something weird then?” he insisted
It took you a bit too long to answer. How could you possibly tell them?!
“Y/N, I need you to tell me or we can’t help him.”
“He…uh, I-” you inhaled deeply before thinking of a way to tell them without giving away many details. “I went to the kitchen last night and I think maybe I woke him up, or…I don’t know but he was there and talked and…acted in a way that wasn’t like…like him, you know? And his eyes were changing colors…”
You heard even more voices discussing on the other side of the line before Taeyong spoke again.
“What did he say exactly?”
 You froze. Jisung’s whisper of 'I would split you in half' echoed in your head.
“I- I don’t remember… I was half asleep,” you lied.
Taeyong’s silence made it clear he didn’t believe you, but he didn’t insist. 
“Is Jisung okay?” You finally asked.
“He’s fine,” Taeyong assured you. “He is a bit moody today, hasn’t left his room, but he isn’t sick or anything… We think he’s about to present.”
“Oh,” you said dumbly. That made sense; the weird change of eye color, a more aggresive attitude and sudden hornyness. You felt relieved, but also a bit disappointed. It was just his animal side and he would have reacted like that with any other woman; he wasn’t attracted to you. And after he presented, it would only be a matter of time before he met his destined mate. Great. It’s not like you liked him either, right?
Right?
When the call finished, you were in a terrible mood. And you were still in a bad mood for the next few days, a week even. And when it was time for another movie night at Jaehyun’s, you declined, saying you were tired. Instead, you grabbed a blanket and a cup of hot chocolate and watched a movie on your own, while the heavy rain tapped against the window.
  As you approached the end of the movie, you heard a soft knock on your door. You stopped the movie and looked at the door, just in time for a harder knock to be heard.  Puzzled, you stood up and walked softly towards the door, the knocking becoming louder and more insistent. 
“W-who is it?” you asked nervously once you reached the door.
“Noona,” called the deep voice from the other side. “It’s me…”
“Jisung?!” you shrieked and quickly opened the door, facing the boy whose clothes and hair were soaking wet. “Jisung what are you doing here?! Look at you, why didn’t you bring an umbrella with you?! You’ll get sick-”
“Are you mad at me?” he asked immediately, staring into your eyes.
“W-what?”
“Are you mad because of what I did that night? Is that why you don’t want to go to our house anymore?”
“No, Jisung.” you sighed. “I’m not mad at you, I promise. I just wasn’t feeling it today.”
 His shoulders relaxed and he nodded. “Oh, okay…I’ll see you around then…”
“Jisung,” you called him before he could leave. “Come in and take a hot shower okay? Let’s get you some dry clothes to change into.”
 He looked at himself, like he had just noticed his state and murmured a soft “okay” before entering your place timidly. You showed him the way to the bathroom and left a clean towel for him to use, letting him know there would be dry clothes waiting for him in your room.
 Meanwhile you went to the kitchen to prepare a cup of hot chocolate for him right when your phone started vibrating in your pocket. It was Jaehyun calling.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“Y/n, is Jisung with you?” he asked urgently.
 You almost choked on your saliva. How did he know?!
“Uh…yes, he just showed up.”
“Oh thank god,” he sighed, and then his voice sounded distant as he seemed to be speaking to somebody else, telling them 'he’s with her!'
“Is everything okay?” you asked nervously
“He suddenly left in a hurry and didn’t tell anyone anything. He left his phone here, and Chenle tried calling some of his friends but no one had seen him.”
“He’s fine, just got wet because of the rain so he’s taking a shower now. He can stay here until the rain stops,” you offered.
“Thank you,” Jaehyun said and paused for a minute before adding: “Don’t tell him I called you.”
“Why not?”
“He’s a bit…sensitive these days,” he murmured. “And he isn’t very happy with how close I am with you so…”
“...That makes no sense,” you replied and lowered your voice as you heard Jisung exiting the bathroom and entering your room to get changed. “We’ve been friends for years and he’s never seemed to have a problem with that.”
“Yes, but now he’s presenting Y/N.”
“So?”
“Look…,” you heard some movement and then a door closing, indicating that he had probably gone to his room to talk without anyone hearing. “Taeyong doesn’t want me to tell you this, something about not wanting to pressure you into anything but…uh…”
“Just spit it out,” you were starting to get impatient
“We think Jisung imprinted…on you,” the last part was barely audible. 
 There was an awkward silence that none of you knew how to break until you cleared your throat.
“That’s impossible,” you said. “He hasn’t even presented yet.”
“It’s not impossible. It’s more common for wolves to find their mate after presenting, but it’s not necessarily the rule. I think… We think he imprinted on you a long time ago.”
 When you didn’t say anything he continued.
“You know he’s had the biggest crush on you for a while, Y/N. What if it wasn’t a simple crush? You saw how he reacted when I touched you that night… No wolf would be that agitated unless it’s their mate that’s being touched. All the signs have always been there, we just dismissed them.”
“I- I don’t know what to do with that information, Jae…” you said, biting your lip nervously.
“I thought you liked him too…” he accused. 
“Me?!”
“Yes, you. You have a soft spot for him, you always ask for him when we hang out, you bring him snacks and presents for no reason, you smile like an idiot when he talks and you are incredibly touchy with him.”
“That’s just…”
“Don’t bullshit me, Y/N. We all knew you had a thing for him. If you like him, go for it. But if you don’t like him like that, send him home now and don’t toy with his feelings,” he warned you before sighing and softening his voice. “You’re my friend, Y/N, and he’s my pack brother. I want the best for both of you, okay? I gotta go, call me if anything happens.” 
 When he hung up you placed your phone on the kitchen counter and went to your room to check on Jisung. There would be time to ask him about his feelings and talk things out properly after he drank something hot and was more comfortable, you thought as you knocked on your bedroom door a few times.
“Jisung, are you ready? Do you want hot chocolate? or something to eat?” you asked, trying your best to hide how affected you were after that phone call. But the only reply you heard was something that sounded like a muffled cry. “Jisung?” you insisted only to get a louder cry in response. Worried, you opened the door and stood there speechless.
 The clothes you had prepared for him were scattered on the floor  along with the towel you had given him earlier. Jisung was completely bare on your bed, mounting your pillow and rutting against it desperately, while water drops traveled from his hair to your bedsheets, where his face was buried, muffling his incessant moans. 
“J-jisung…” his name was the only thing you would say and he finally turned his body to the side slightly to look at you, allowing you to catch a glimpse of the precum leaking from his reddened cock, staining your pillowcase. 
“N-noona,” his voice was an octave deeper than usual. “Noona, everything smells l-like you…” he whimpered, fucking the pillow harder and faster without breaking eye contact with you. “I-I’m so close-” was the last thing he managed to say before a deep moan echoed through the room and his hips stilled, his buttcheeks contracting a couple of times, pressing his member harder against the soft fabric.
 He laid limp on the bed, hooded eyes still looking at you, the strange dance of eye colors happening again told you that he was being consumed by his wolf again.
“Sorry,” he finally panted. “I made a mess...”
“I-it’s okay!” your voice cracked because you were actually not okay, but you knew he had no control over his body right now and the last thing you wanted was to make him feel guilty about it. “There’s some tissues on my nightstand, so- uh how about you c-clean yourself up and g-get dressed?” you nervously walked closer to him, picked up the clothes from the floor and offered them to him.
 He slowly sat up, as if his body was too heavy to move. He didn’t even bother covering himself like the shy Jisung normally would. He was far too gone for that. But when he saw the clothes you were trying to give him, he had enough energy to snatch them from you and throw them further away, with an annoyed huff.
“Wha- Jisung!” you reprimanded him. “You have to get dressed!”
“I’m not wearing his clothes,” he hissed. “And neither are you. Those are Jaehyun hyung’s, aren't they?”
 Right. The only clothes you had that could fit him were shirts and boxers that Jaehyun would leave behind whenever he crashed at your place. You had prepared those clothes for Jisung before Jaehyun called you to warn you about Jisung’s feelings.
“...Fine,” you sighed in defeat, not wanting to irritate him more. “I’ll go get you something else, but don’t complain if it’s too small for you.”
Before you could walk away, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer to him, making you stand in between his legs, pressing his head against your lower belly.
“Don’t go,” he pouted, planting a soft kiss on your stomach over the thin fabric of your shirt that made you blush even more. “It hurts less when you’re here.”
“Are y-you in pain?” you asked.
“Yeah,” he inhaled deeply and groaned as he caught the smell or your arousal. “But maybe you can help me?” he asked using one of his hands to lift your shirt slightly, kissing your skin directly now and making you gasp. “Can you make it better, noona?” he looked up at you innocently while sticking out his tongue and licking at your hip bone.
“Fuck!” you tilted your head back unconsciously pushing your hips closer to him, which he took as a sign for him to start pulling your sweatpants lower, his mouth kissing and licking every bit of skin he found on his way. “J-jisung, hold on!”
 You placed your hands on his shoulders and pushed him away slightly, he whined.
 “Why?” he asked, his hands still pulling at the hem of your pants.
“Jisung, I think y-you’re… presenting,” you told him.
He furrowed his brows and looked at you confused, but then his mouth parted slightly as the cogs started turning in his head.
“Oh,” he finally said, dropping his arms to his sides and letting go of you. “Does that make you uncomfortable? Am I scaring you?”
“No!” you softly took his face in your hands and made him look up at you. “That’s not it, Jisung. I just want you to be sure-”
“I’m sure,” he said quickly.
“-And I don’t want you to regret it-”
“I won’t,” he assured you, grabbing one of your hands and bringing it to his mouth so he could give it little kisses. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this for, noona.”
“Jisung… are you- uh… am I your m-mate?” you finally gathered the courage to ask.
“Yes,” he hummed contently, kissing your fingertips. “Mine. Not Jaehyun hyung’s.”
“How can you be s-sure?” you barely managed to ask while looking at his lips wrap around your thumb and suck gently.
“Always knew. Since the first time I saw you,” he said simply, letting go of your fingers with one last kiss. “But you always treated me like a kid, so I waited… hoping you would see me differently once I presented.”
Suddenly, his hands were back on your pants and without a warning he pulled them down, making you lose your balance, which he took as an opportunity to grab your arms and pull you on his lap, one of his hands behind you taking the sweatpants off your legs, leaving you on your shirt and underwear only
“And judging by how wet you are for me, it was worth the wait,” he smirked, caressing your arms and guiding them to his shoulders.
 You were incredibly embarrassed but didn’t bother to lie. You knew he could smell your arousal and it was stupid to lie to him. “Sorry, I couldn't help it.”
“Don’t be,” he said, kissing your cheek softly. “It smells really fucking good, but it’s making me really hard…”
 You looked down and gasped when you saw that he was indeed incredibly hard for someone who had literally just ejaculated on your pillow.
“Please help me, noona,” he begged, grabbing one of your hands and placing it over his hardness. “It hurts so bad.”
 You couldn’t stop yourself from tracing his cock delicately with your fingertips, feeling his body tense up under you. 
“I’ll help,” you finally said, wrapping your hand around him, making him moan and release a mantra of ‘thank yous’. “But… you can’t mark me.”
He looked up at you like you were crazy. Marking you was what he wanted the most. You were denying him the ultimate pleasure of owning you for the rest of your lives. Frustrated he shook his head and opened his mouth to complain, but then you let go of his member completely, earning a pained gasp from him.
“Jisung, you can’t mark me during your first rut,” you tried to reason with him as he whined incoherently and tried to put your hand back on him. “It 's too soon. If you still want me in the future, then we can think about it, okay?”
 He looked up at you with such sad eyes that you almost gave in, but you knew it was better to take things slow. Finally he dropped his head and mumbled a defeated 'okay.'
 “Good boy,” you whispered sweetly, making him shudder at the pet name. This time you grabbed him firmly and started pumping him rhythmically without hesitation. He let out the loudest gasp yet and arched his back, hips thrusting against your hand like crazy.
“N-noona!” he dug his fingers into your waist in a desperate attempt to ground himself. “yes, please, yes-yes!”
 You were so focused on his fucked out expression that you failed to notice one of his hands making its way into your panties. He quickly found your clit and massaged it, groaning at how wet you were.
“J-jisung!” you panted, trying to wiggle away. “T- this is supposed to be to help you!” you argued but the rest of your complaints were forgotten when one of his long fingers entered you slowly. “Ah!”
“You are helping m-me, noona,” he gasped against your lips, thrusting his finger in and out of you slowly while his thumb circled your clit. “You’re doing s-so …so good f-for me.” 
 He took you by surprise when he finally connected your lips, swallowing your moans and sliding his tongue into your mouth messily. He made use of this distraction to insert a second finger inside of you and make you sob into the kiss. Your thumb reached the tip of his cock and circled it, imitating the way he was massaging your clit, and successfully making him break the kiss to gasp.
“That’s it, noona,” he gave your lips a couple of messy licks before pressing his forehead against you. “J-just like that-don’t stop…don’t stop, please, don’t stop, don’t fucking stop-” 
 He moaned and tilted his head back, his fingers mercilessly abusing you while spurts of his cum covered your hand, making you reach your climax while he rode out his. You dropped your head on his shoulder, body limp, trying to catch up your breath but he wouldn’t stop his assault on your clit.
“Ji-,” you squirmed, but he held you in place. “Jisung, I’m s-sensitive.”
“But it hurts,” he pleaded, still breathing heavily. You lifted your head to look at him. His dick was still as hard and red as when you first entered the room.
“Fuck…” you mumbled. “How…?”
“More?” he asked you as innocently as he could, considering his fingers were still inside of you. 
“Uh okay, I-... can you lay down?” you asked him, and he nodded eagerly, letting you stand up so he could lay down on the cum stained bed.
 “W-what are you gonna-Fuck! Oh fuck, noona-” he moaned as soon as he felt your warm lips on his aching cock. “P-please noona, I- oh… you’re crazy if you t-think I won’t m-mark you after thi-ah!”
 You let go of his member with a soft pop and licked the tip softly. “We said no marking, Ji,” you teased him between licks.
“I-I know but-...But noona,oooohh!” he arched his back and grabbed the bedsheets in a pathetic attempt to control himself, tears staining his pretty face. “more, m-more-!”
 You gave him more, wrapping your lips around him and sucking, making loud slurping sounds and had him tossing and turning under you, calling your name and sobbing.
“Keep g-going, noona c’mon k-keep-,” his thighs started shaking and his abdomen contracted as a clear sign that he was very close. “Keep sucking, y/n, k-keep sucking my cock, just l-like that noon-ah! keep g-going, keep fucking g-going-,” his desperate mantra between gasps got interrupted by you finally deepthroating him. “Fuuuuckk!”
 You hummed around his cock and started lifting your head when you felt both his hands on the back of your head, pushing you down and forcing his dick into your throat. You choked and grabbed his hands, trying to push him away, but he had no intention of letting go, keeping your nose pressed against his navel and your throat contracting against his member in an attempt to breathe. 
 “Stay,” he growled, using a voice that was unknown to you, deeper and huskier than you’d ever heard him. “Take my cock, just like you’re meant to,” he then gave your head short fast pushes, still pressed against his hips, that made you choke harder and sob, the vibrations making him feel in heaven.
 With a final guttural growl, he came in your throat, forcing you to swallow his load before he finally let go of your head, cooing at your coughs.
 Once you managed to stop coughing, you looked at him in shock, expecting an apology for losing control like that, but when your eyes met his, you saw no guilt or regret. His eyes full of lust were shining a bright red and a cocky smirk had replaced his shy typical expression.
 His wolf had taken over.
“You look so good like this, Y/N,” he said casually, leaving all formalities behind and calling you by your name. 
“J-jisung? How d-do you feel?” you asked a bit afraid. You had never seen him like this before.
“Fucking fantastic,” he purred. “Will feel even better after I knot you.”
“K-knot?!”
He raised an eyebrow.
“Oh? So Jaehyun can breed you full of cum but your real mate can’t?” he hissed through gritted teeth.
“No I-...I’ve never t-taken a knot before,” you admitted, suddenly feeling shy, looking down. “I n-never let him…”
“He didn’t knot you?” he repeated.
You shook your head no and he immediately took your face in his hands and pulled you closer to him, kissing you passionately. 
“Good girl, y/n. You did well,” he praised you, helping you take your shirt off, and kissing your breasts affectionately. Your back arched into his touch and let him make you feel good. You suddenly felt so small and vulnerable, like you were meant to submit to him.
“Your tiny cunt will only take my knot from now on,” he mumbled against your left breast, circling your nipple with his tongue. “Take my cock only for the rest of your life.”
 You moaned and pulled at his hair, your hips rubbing against his softly.
“I’ll mark you so good everyone will know who you belong to…”
That knocked some sense into you.
“J-jisung! We s-said not yet-”
“Sit on my face,” he commanded. 
“Huh?!”
“It seems I haven’t made you feel good enough if you still have half a brain to talk back to your alpha,” he grunted, easily manhandling you so your legs were on each side of his head, your pussy hovering dangerously over his face.
“A-alpha?” the term sounded so foreign to you. It was only used among wolves, so you never thought you would have to address anyone like that. 
“That’s right,” he purred, kissing your inner thighs. “Alpha will fuck you dumb, okay?” was the last thing he said before pulling your panties to the side and diving in. 
 You let out a silent scream and grabbed onto the bed headboard for support. His tongue felt hotter than what should be normal and the way he moaned and groaned against you like he was tasting the most delicious of meals sent constant waves of pleasure through your body. You felt yourself cumming faster than ever in your life so you tried to put some distance between yourselves, to avoid coming that fast and embarrassing yourself, but he wouldn’t have any of that. His arms circled your thighs and pulled you down, all your weight on his face making you tremble with pleasure. He chuckled and sucked your sensitive clit into his mouth, using his tongue to toy with it roughly. 
“Oh,” you sobbed, panting heavily, “I’m g-gonna cum, Ji- ah! gonna c-cum, Jisung-!” 
Your body shook against his hold as he hummed with your clit still inside his mouth, making you cum while screaming so hard, you knew you wouldn’t be able to speak properly for a couple of days.
“Are you okay?” panted Jisung against your core.
“I-I’m…okay,” you replied with difficulty.
 Jisung tsked like he was annoyed at the fact that you could still form coherent sentences. “One more then.”
 His tongue lolled out of his mouth and his strong hands grabbed your hips, pulling you against him again and moving you back and forth against his soft hot tongue.
“J-jisung w-wait,” you barely gasped. “I can’t c-cum again…”
 He raised his brows defiantly and moved you faster against your will, ready to prove you how wrong you were.
“Jisung please-!” you pleaded, but you were starting to feel another build up. How could everything feel so good with him?
Soon you felt your hips move on its own, which gave Jisung the opportunity to touch your body, from your thighs, to your ass and finally massaging your breasts as you rode his tongue thoughtlessly. 
“Oh, oh! s-so good, Jisungie-,” you spoke shakily. “Your tongue f-feels so good, a-alpha…”
Jisung moaned and you could see the corners of his lips lift in what would have been a satisfied smirk if it wasn’t because he had you riding his tongue. He knew he had you where he wanted, and he guided your hands to his head, encouraging you to pull his hair as you used him. 
“Y-yes,” you moaned, eyes rolling back and your hips bouncing empty-headed against his face. “Yes,yes-yeesss fuck alpha!”
 You came so hard you heard a ring in your ears, your body losing all strength and falling back. Jisung caught you right in time and laid you on the bed carefully.
“How are you feeling now?” he asked, voice raspy and face glistening with your juices.
 You barely acknowledged that he was talking to you, your eyes unfocused, and body shaking like a leaf with only one thought in your head:
“Ji…alpha,” you let out almost inaudibly. 
“Perfect,” Jisung groaned, taking off your ruined panties and positioning himself between your legs, entering you in one go.
You cried out loud and arched your back, tossing your arms around, looking for something to hold onto. Jisung wasn’t doing so well himself, his eyes were wide in shock at how good he felt, and they were switching into golden color again.
“F-fuck, noona,” he sobbed, kissing you pasionately, and giving an experimental thrust that made both of you moan. “Noona, my beautiful noona- h-how can you be so tight and w-warm?” 
 You weakly lifted your head and saw Jisung looking back at you.  Eyes full of adoration gleaming a golden color instead of the dark red you had seen before. Soft and lovely Jisung was back, but for how long?
“S-sorry, noona,” he said as he started fucking you with intent. “Don’t ask me to stop- I c-can’t stop.”
 He buried his face into your neck and whispered the sweetest praises, only interrupted by moans that were becoming louder. 
“If I don’t m-mark you I’ll d-die, noona ah!,p-please-,” he begged, sucking your neck like you had the mental capacity to deny him anything in this state. 
You then heard a chuckle. The wolf was back.
“And you’ll let me, right?” said that dark and velvety voice. “You’ll let alpha mark y-you and fuck you full of cum,yeah?” he sat up and his red eyes devoured you as he grabbed your hips and fucked into you roughly. 
 You were too fucked up to even moan out loud, your mouth hung open and your eyes rolled back as no sound came out of your spent troath. 
“Such a perfect little doll,” he hissed as his hips snapped against you, the bed headboard slamming against the wall loudly. “Won’t ever let you go, Y/N.”
 The base of his cock finally started growing in size making him moan shakily and fucking you faster.
“Yes! yes,yes, finally- finally Y/N!”
He laid on top of you and hugged your waist, holding your body against his as his hips pistoned into you, letting out a delirious string of curses, praises and sobs.
“S-sorry, noona,” there was human Jisung again, his forehead against yours as he panted, a couple of his tears landing on your face. “You h-have to take my knot, p-please, you have to- I c-can’t-!” 
 You couldn’t register his words, as a new and more powerful orgasm took over your body and made you convulse against his strong hold. If you hadn’t been so fucked out you would have seen his mouth wide open as he went cross-eyed and gave a final thrust that settled his knot inside of you, his cock twitching and releasing endless spurts of thick cum.
“O-oh, oh noona…” he sobbed against your neck, finally giving into his instinct and biting you hard.
 “Jisung!” you grabbed the back of his head and pulled him closer, moaning as he sucked on the fresh mark. You thought it would hurt more, but it gave you a very pleasant tingly sensation. “Alpha…”
Jisung panted heavily as he lifted his upper body. His eyes were golden again and he was anxiously waiting for your reaction after what had happened.
“I- I couldn’t stop myself, noona,” he bit his lip and flinched when your eyes met his. “I don’t know why I…it just hurt and- then everything became too much-”
You groaned and threw your arms over your face. “That’s why I told you not to mark me,” you whined. “I knew you would regret it!”
“No,” he said firmly. “I don’t regret it.”
When you didn’t reply to him, he grabbed your arms and held them against the mattress on each side of your head.
“Noona, look at me,” he pleaded. “I don’t regret it. It was better than I could ever imagine. I’m just apologizing because you didn’t want it.”
“I did want it,” you whispered. “But I wanted you to be sure first.”
“I’ve been sure for so long, noona,” he kissed your lips softly. “I’ve always wanted you. Please don’t push me away.”
 You kissed him back and he sighed against your mouth, deepening the kiss. 
And then he thrusted harshly inside of you again, making you almost choke in surprise.
“J-jisung?!”
He opened his eyes slowly and you saw the flickering battle of red and golden happen again, telling you his animal side wanted to come out again.
"Sorry, noona..." he apologized in advance for what was about to happen.
Here we go again.
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soubi122 · 7 months
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heyy I have a request!! so I really loved reading bite my tongue! it was great!!! it gave me kinda teenage vibes yk? party, sex and just fun. could u write a rindou x reader smut? yk 18 y/o RI doi with his 16 y/o gf? would that work? tell me if not. so I imagined that the reader has it's first te with rindou on rans house party (tenjiku or kantou manji time-line)!!! it would make my day?!! love u <33 !!!
Hello! Sorry it took so long to respond. Unfortunately, I cannot write minor content, though I know some countries consider 16 to be an adult. I will age the reader up to be 18. 
WARNINGS: alcohol, smut, virgin reader, unprotected sex, sex, f!oral. oh he's is so soft, i really do love him. IT IS CANNON THAT HE IS VERY SWEET/NICE. (pazuribe shibuya event confirmed lol)
They know you love him - one shot - request.
Having a super popular boyfriend makes it difficult to escape the scathing questions that people ask. How good is he in bed? What's he like in bed? Is it big? How long does he last? It was rather annoying and intrusive. Either way you couldn't give them an answer. Regardless of Rindou’s reputation, he was quite the nice guy - unlike the elder Haitani, Rindou was gentle. You’ve yet to lay with him, or better yet, you have yet to lay with anyone. 
Tonight you were going to face those questions again as the Haitani’s were throwing a house party. Of course Tenjiku members were going to be there and you expected quite the crowd. Not to mention the amount of females who were going to be like vultures and circling around your boyfriend. 
“Shion and I will be buying the booze - do you want anything in particular?” Ran asks you while you help Rindou set up the DJ booth and lights. “Hmm…what can your brother handle?” You say teasingly knowing that Rindou was within range. The hard smack of his lips made you both turn around and face Rindou - he was smirking. “I don’t know babe, I’ll have you crawling out of here - you can’t out drink me.” Challenging him for drinks was a mistake, but you had something up your sleeve. They’ve tried a lot of liquor before but you wanted to try something new. “Get me the Añejo Tequila, the one that’s in a twisted bottle and the cap looks like it was dipped in black wax.” You say mischievously. We’ll see who will be crawling by the end of the night. You think to yourself. 
After finally setting up everything, the first wave of people started to flow in. They brought booze and other things to the mix. Amongst them, the number of chicks slowly increased and began to circle around Tenjiku’s men. Before you knew it, the place was crowded and the music was blaring. Haitani parties were always like this - it was the talk of Roppongi. If you weren’t there, then you weren’t cool or important. Kakucho’s nervous smile always made you laugh, he’s the youngest out of all of them and from what you could see - he has zero experience with women. Shion had two girls on his lap and a third pouring booze in his mouth. Mochi and Mucho were in the crowd with their girlfriends. Izana was making conversation with the girls that were flocking around Kakucho, teasing him and also smooth talking to some of them. Ran, of course, had dozens of girls around him, each of them trying their hardest to snatch his attention with their skimpy outfits or pouty lips. 
That left you with Rindou behind the booth. You made your way back and forth between the booth and kitchen. Bringing him drinks and other things he needed. It went on for a few hours, but you never complained. While he was mixing music, he told you to go have fun, just don’t dance with any guys. As much as you liked their parties they threw, it was always hard to enjoy them when he was always behind the booth. “I want to dance with you.” You say in his ear but the crowd kept requesting songs and made it hard for him to leave the booth. “In a little bit. Gotta give the people what they want.” With that he went back to mixing. It made you feel rather ignored. Instead of protesting, you stepped down and went to the kitchen in search of some liquid courage. 
“Aw, did he blow you off?” One of the girls said as you poured yourself a drink. “gOtTa GiVe ThE pEoPlE wHaT tHeY wAnT.” You say mockingly and drink. They bursted into laughter, your friends knew the answer but they weren’t expecting you to mock him in such a childish way. “So…are you planning on getting your cherry popped tonight?” Someone asked. Their question made you giggle, there was no way, he was too busy and by the time the party's over - he always passes out. “The only thing that is going to get popped are my eardrums.” 
Throughout the night you drifted between the crowd and the kitchen, dancing and drinking. As much as you hated to admit it, he was a fucking great dj and played the best songs, sneaking in some of your favorites. Even though you felt as if Rindou wasn’t paying attention to you, his eyes followed you. Each sway of your hips had him mesmerized, he wondered if there was anyone stupid enough to lay a hand on you. Those who got a little close were met with an elbow pushing them away. You kept your distance and knew that Tenjiku’s men wouldn’t hesitate to start a fight. 
There was one song that he played that had people dancing close and sensual. The heat that radiated off of the crowd made you dizzy, they were close and personal. Some were beginning to make out with each other, others were leading each other out of the party or into the bathroom. Even your friends were slowly getting swallowed up by the sounds and their new boy toys. From the looks of it, you were the only one without a dance partner and it made you feel out of place. Yet the pheromones emanating off the crowd had you feeling more than just the effects of the alcohol. 
Everything looked like it was moving in slow motion with the flashing lights. “What's wrong? You look lost.” A familiar voice says right in your ear. Turning around you see the tall figure and signature braids. You chuckle and respond “The DJ needs a break.” You say with a smirk on your face. Ran wrapped his arms around your waist, gently pulling you in and moving to the music with you. He was close but not close enough to feel his heat. You were surprised, it wasn't like Ran to do something this bold with you - especially in front of Rindou. As long as he wasn't touchy with you, you shrugged and said what the hell. You needed a dance partner since your boyfriend was too busy to give you attention. This will surely bring him to her. Ran thinks to himself as he glances at Rindou, he is met with furrowed eyebrows and a glare so heavy that a chill runs down his spine. 
What followed was Ran spinning you around rather frequently while dancing so that almost the whole floor saw your lace panties. Tenjiku's single men, along with others, only titled their heads down a bit to get a better peek at you. The way you giggled and held on to Ran made it look like he was your boyfriend. “Izana… Isn't she Rindou's girlfriend?” Kakucho asks and gets worried about a fight breaking out. Izana laughed and continued to drink, “That's the point… she shouldn't be alone anyways - he's drawing Rindou in.” Ah, so that was the plan. He was doing you both a favor. 
After a few songs, Rindou still didn't come down from the DJ booth. “Ran, I need a break.” You pant and giggle as he continues to move you around. This man was seriously going to give you a workout. “Nuh-uh, you're my dance partner tonight. Besides, Rindou is still busy right?” Ran chuckles and pulls you in, he was close - a little too close. Oops… He thinks to himself when he feels your figure tightly against his. You quickly pulled away from him, this wasn’t an ok thing for him to do - even if you were close friends. Now he knew for sure that Rindou was going to stop the music, however the music continued without interruption. When Ran looked up at the booth he felt a slight sense of panic, Rindou was nowhere in sight. “Finally.” Izana says to Kakucho when he spots Rindou in the crowd. It took him a few minutes to come down from the booth, he needed to set up music so that he wouldn't have to go back up to the booth for a while. 
In the blink of an eye, Rindou was now standing in front of you - his face was calm, a little too calm. You knew all too well that he was seething on the inside. “Oh, little brother – don’t take my dance partner away…” Ran kept egging him on and you felt a sudden wave of worry when he placed his chin over your shoulder, he was too close to your face. “Ran, don’t tease him like that.” You say and pull away from him, you reach out for Rindou's hand in hopes that he isn't going to start a fight. Gently, he took your hand and pulled you away from the crowd - he was leading you somewhere. “Rin… Wait, where are we going?” You questioned him and struggled to keep up. 
Soon you were pushed through a door and the familiar space felt a little more threatening than welcoming. Strong arms spun you around and now you were facing your boyfriend. Those amethyst eyes were hazy and had a glint of jealousy in them. “It looks like I'm gonna have to claim you right here, right now so that they know you're mine.” His tone was low, his hands were snaking their way around your waist and the heat that radiated off of him was making your core throb. “Wait, Rin…your brother was only keeping me company.” You manage to say before he pushed you on the soft mattress. It didn’t matter, Ran was another man so of course he’d get jealous. The moment he got on top of you, you squeezed your eyes shut and prepared for the worst. 
The gentle kiss on your lips made you open your eyes, Rindou was smiling softly and chuckled. “Babe, I’m not gonna hurt you - I only wanted to take you away to spend time with you.” The sincerity in his voice made you feel warmth in your cheeks and butterflies in your belly. “You’re not mad?” You ask him carefully, you weren’t sure if he was tricking you. The tender kiss he placed on your lips answered your question. The sweet taste of liquor that danced between your tongues had you both panting and roaming your hands around each other. He was taking his time and slowly unbuttoning your shirt. The moment you felt his hand try to go between your legs, you stopped him. “What’s wrong darling?” Your hands were shaking, and your heart was pounding. You hid your face under his chin, you didn’t know how to tell him. 
He pulled away a bit to take a look at your face but you pulled him in and kept hiding your face. “Babe, hey - look at me. What’s wrong?” Rindou asked and managed to get you in front of his face. The worried look on your face made him feel bad for messing with you earlier. He asked you if you were mad at him for what he did or if you were frustrated with him for not paying attention to you during the party. You shook your head no and blushed even harder. “Rindou, I’ve never mentioned it before but I’ve never been touched by someone else nor slept with anyone before.” You whisper and bite your lip, you were expecting him to make fun of you or get turned off by your confession. Rindou snickered and cupped your face, his expression was loving and comforting. “You think I didn’t know? Baby, we’ve been together long enough for me to know you inside and out. Just for the record, I don’t care about that - whether or not you’ve done this before, you’re with me now and that’s all that matters.” Oh sweet baby cthulhu, this man was truly a prince, a king, a fierce god with a gentle soul. 
Looking into his eyes, you could feel a wave of relief wash over you. “A-Are you sure? I thought that-” You barely managed to say before a finger was placed on your lips to shush you. “I already told you, what matters is that you’re with me now. So…can I take care of you?” His words managed to make you let go of your nervousness and fear. With a soft nod, you allowed him to continue. “I promise, I’ll make you feel good. If at any point you want me to stop, just tell me, ok?” He whispered in your ear and began to trail kisses from your cheek to your jawline, and down to your neck. It was giving you goosebumps and making your body tremble beneath him. Soon his kisses trailed down to your chest, leaving open mouth kisses and unhooking your bra and latching on to your nipple. This was nothing like before, you and Rindou never really went beyond kissing, gentle touching over your clothes and dry humping - this was a whole new experience for you. 
You covered your mouth with your hand when you moaned a little too loud. However, Rindou moved your hand away and looked up at you with a devilish grin. “The music is loud enough to cover for us. I want to hear you say my name.” A chill ran down your spine, he was totally a different person. He was sweet and malicious at the same time. He went back to sucking on your nipple and rolling the other hardened bud in his fingers. You could feel the way his tongue licked and swirled your nipple, when he pulled away ever so slightly, he blew on to it. The cooling sensation had you arching your back and panting. Your hips were now rolling into the mattress and you felt your cunt ache - the slick was pooling between your legs. The sensation building up inside you felt like heaven and this was just foreplay. 
Soon his right hand was under your skirt, teasing your pantyline with his fingertips - you clenched in reflex. “Rindou…” You moan his name and feel your heart pounding against your chest, he was so close to touching your honeypot. Having you like this only made him fall for you even more. It was never his goal to take your innocence but he couldn't help having his pride swell up, he was going to pop your sweet cherry. He's heard stories before about how your first always leaves an imprint… he wanted to make sure you will always remember him. 
Once his hand went past that line, he slid a finger through your slit and groaned at how wet you were. “Fuck, darling…” He looked up at you with a mischievous smirk. “I need to taste you, can I do that baby?” He asks and starts to leave open mouth kisses down your chest and belly. Right before pulling your panties down, he looks back up at you and waits for your permission. Your face is dusted in pink and your eyes are hazy, biting your lip you nod a yes. “Use your words pretty girl…” Oh sweet baby Cthulhu… his tone was low and made something feral bloom inside you. This was different from before, he was making you needy and you loved it. “Rin… I want you to taste me.” You pant and grind your hips into his hand. He didn't waste any time and stripped you, those amethyst orbs drank in your bare figure - he basked at how beautiful you looked underneath him. 
Positioning himself between your thighs, he teased you with kisses, slowly getting closer and closer to your core. Your essence was dripping and he couldn't help but feel his member throb under their restraints. Your thighs trembled as he got closer, you could feel his breath fan your cunt and you clenched around nothing. Rindou's tongue took a long and slow swipe between your folds, tasting your honey for the first time had him feeling something he never knew existed. It was ecstasy or maybe even bliss to him. “Ngh… oh god, your tongue… it feels s'good!” You barely manage to say before he rips another moan out of you. Lithe fingers glided through your folds, two fingers prodded your entrance and you felt a jolt of electricity. 
The deeper his fingers went, the tighter you clenched and felt a throbbing sensation around your entrance. The mild stretch was to prepare you for what's to come. Your walls sucked his fingers in and it felt so different from your own hands - curse your small hands for not preparing you better. Once his fingers began to thrust slowly in and out, Rindou focused on your puffy clit and gently teased it with his tongue. There was a tingling sensation that was beginning to build up in the pit of your stomach - it was faint but you knew what it was. Knowing what could come next only made you drip even more. Now his whole hand was coated in your essence. 
“You're gonna take me so well baby…” He pants and continues to eat you out as if it were his last meal on earth. His blonde and blue silky strands were now tangled between your fingers. Rindou took his time, thrusting in his fingers sensually to the point where you were begging him to go a little faster. His lips curled into a smile when he felt you grind your hips into him. He was building up your orgasm little by little, giving your body so much love and affection that you didn't know what to even think anymore. All you knew at this point was that you wanted to feel him, feel his cock between your legs and you wanted him to cum inside you. To feel that close to somebody, to feel that close to him - it was all you wanted. 
He could feel how your thighs were beginning to tremble, you were close and as much as he wanted to see you come undone - he stopped. Rindou wanted you to cum on his cock, he wanted to see your pretty face from up top when you hit that perfect O. Pouting and whimpering, you take a moment to catch your breath and ask him why he stopped. “Rindou… I was so close…” The chill that ran down your spine when he sat up and zipped his pants, oh. Oh indeed. His heavy cock sprung out and dripped precum onto your slit. He was panting and pink dusted his face, those glossy orbs of his reflected nothing but love and desire. 
Your lips began to tremble when he stroked himself, earning him more beads of precum that dripped on you. Absentmindedly, you spoke and admired his member. “It’s so…big.” Already having an idea that he was well endowed when innocently teasing him before, you thought you’d be able to handle him. However, actually seeing it made you feel as if you were going to be impaled. Removing the rest of his clothing, your eyes feasted on him - his broad shoulders, those gorgeous tattoos and that perfect V cut… oh it had you in a daze. You didn’t even notice the little drool that began to run down the corner of your mouth. The sound of his chuckle made you snap out of it and you looked up to see the alluring look on his face. “You like what you see, baby?” That low and husky tone made your heart skip a beat.
Leaning in to position himself, he placed a passionate kiss on your lips and cupped your face. Rindou was a true gentleman, he never gave you a reason to mistrust him nor to question his loyalty to you. Pulling away ever so slightly from your lips, he whispered “Tell me if you want me to stop…” Too enthralled in his affection, you didn’t realize this was his warning to you that he was going in. Your breath hitched the moment his tip prodded your core and slowly stretched you out. The burn was getting more and more intense as he pushed past your walls. Screwing your eyes shut, you grip his shoulders and moan in pain. Rindou placed tender kisses on your lips and wiped the tears that trickled down your face. “I know it hurts, baby. Do you want me to stop?” He asked and paused his movements. You kept your eyes closed and shook your head no, you didn’t want to stop half way - you didn’t want to disappoint him. “Hey, hey…look at me.” He says sweetly and smiles. Opening your eyes, you were met with those beautiful amethyst orbs - they were glossy and his face was dusted in pink. For the first time you see him, the real him…
“No… please. I-I can take it.” You pant and bite your lip. What you just said and the way you said it, lit an even greater fire inside him. “Good girl…fuck.” Rindou said and proceeded to bottom out in one thrust. The pressure between your thighs and hip made you dig your nails into his shoulder and back. Shaky breaths were all you could hear along with the sound of your hearts pounding against your chest. “Breathe baby…” Rindou rests his forehead on yours and slowly gives you shallow thrusts. His member was so thick, that you could feel him throb and pulse inside you. Slowly the burn of the stretch subsided and was replaced with gentle waves of pleasure. “Ngh…” You moan and rock your hips with his. “Such a good girl…” He moans and crashes his lips into yours. The fire that burned between you two had you whimpering and moaning louder and louder with each thrust. 
The high you felt here was nothing like you’ve ever felt before. Your coil was already tightly wound due to his previous actions. He was making you feel special, as if you were truly the love of his life…wait, love? This is what was happening…you were making love. It wasn’t just sex, it wasn’t just a fling or a one time thing - this was love. You couldn’t help but moan out his name and the next words that rolled off your tongue set his heart on fire. “I love you…I love you…” You repeated those words like a prayer. Rindou buried his face into your neck and quickened his pace, the way his cock would kiss your cervix, it made your eyes roll back into your skull. The sound of your slick and skin colliding started to get louder. Such lewd sounds would make anyone’s core throb. For him to hit sweet spots you didn’t know existed had you writhing beneath him. His husky moans in your ear and his warmth on your body brought you closer to bliss. “Rin-Rindou! Ahn-I’m gonna cum!” You scream and clench around his cock. 
He slowed his pace and proceeded to sit up on his knees, those slow but deep thrusts had you clenching the bed sheets. Your beautiful nude figure captivated him. His hand reached to pinch your nipple, he couldn’t help but touch your tits while they were bouncing. “...so perfect.” He groaned and ran his hands down your waist. True to his own words, he wanted to see you come undone and wanted to have the perfect view for it. The hand that was toying with your nipple traveled south and landed right on your clit. His fingers place pressure and move in circular motions on your puffy bundle of nerves. Rindou had your back arching and your screams could be heard to anyone who was close to this bedroom. Slamming his hips into you, he focused on how your pretty face was filled with pleasure. The way your lips parted and said his name as your coil snapped made him reach his peak. His hips stuttered and his pace got sloppy, thick white ropes filled you to the brim and you felt him throb inside your velvet walls. 
Rindou leaned in and gave you the sweetest kiss, “I love you too.” He chuckles and rolls over to pull you in. His scent made your eyelids heavy and your body felt drained. Both of you were on the verge of falling asleep, well that is until a knock on the door disturbed the peaceful bliss. Rindou yells out loud, a little annoyed. “WHAT?!” What followed was Ran peeking through the doorway with a sheet eating grin. You couldn’t see him as your face was pressed against Rindou’s chest. “The music stopped a little while ago…that is all.” Ran said and closed the door. The sound of what you could only assume were Tenjiku’s men giggling like a bunch of school girls could be heard on the other side of the door. “Oh… OH!” You yell. For a moment you could have sworn your soul left your body. No wonder you two were about to float off into a deep slumber. Rindou proceeded to laugh and snort at the expression on your face. “At least they know you love me…”  He says teasingly and pulls you in for another kiss. 
END
Tags: @anxious-chick
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sebsbarnes · 4 months
Text
jealousy || tangerine
tangerine x f!reader
summary: he knew you were fuming about his actions and he loved it. the two of you loved making the other jealous. it was a sick cycle.
warnings: mildly toxic dynamic, semi-suggestive (no descriptions)
word count: 900+
tangerine masterlist
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your eyes followed the two figures amongst the crowd as if losing them was a sin. your fingers drummed against the now wet glass of your drink as the heat inside the club combatted with the ice. you were infuriated, to say the least. truth be told you were jealous, hungry for the attention not being provided to you, but to someone else. you wish you could blame the way your body was pulsating on the ear-ringing music but you knew it was because you were watching tangerine dance behind a girl, his eyes now piercing into your own.
tangerine and you were...messy.
there was really no solidified relationship between the two of you, however, it was evident that the late-night rendezvous indicated you two weren’t just friends. there were many nights spent staying up until the sun rose and many days spent tucked under sheets. he was still staring at you, whispering things into the woman's ear causing her to giggle and all you could do was suck your teeth, seething in anger.
"well don't ya look fuckin' jolly," lemon chuckled bumping into your shoulder, taking the seat next to you. you broke the staring contest to glare at lemon.
"i get we're on a fuckin' mission but jesus could it look like he wants to fuck her anymore?!" you spit.
"relax champ. let him work his magic and we will be outta here soon enough," lemon said patting your shoulder.
tangerine's back was now facing you and lemon and all you could see was the woman throwing her head back in laughter, her fingers tracing up and down tan's back. you could vomit right there or you could kill her, she was the enemy anyway what's the difference? you felt your throat constricting watching his arm move to grab her face, planting a kiss below her ear. with force you swiveled in your chair to face the bartender.
"three shots of tequila please," you almost begged.
"any of those for me?" lemon joked trying to suppress his amusement at the situation.
the first shot slid down your throat burning the entire way down to your stomach, "over my dead body."
the other two shots went down with ease and the fuzzy sensation was coursing through your body. it helped the jealousy subside even though you knew they were still dancing behind you. just as you were about to close your tab, a large hand situated itself where your neck and shoulder meet and a black credit card was thrown on the counter. you rolled your eyes so hard that it hurt.
"gettin' drunk on the job hm?" tangerine quipped bending dangerously close to the right side of your face. you could feel his breath on your ear.
"at least i wasn't trying to fuck on the dance floor," you retorted looking at tangerine through your eyelashes.
he let out a short fake laugh running his hand down his chest to smooth out his vest, "you know i only save that for you, love."
you ignored him and the warmth throughout your body and stood up wobbling a bit. from the other side lemon balanced you and nodded his head for the three of you to leave. you sauntered behind lemon, tangerine behind you which he liked quite a great deal. you could feel his eyes burning into every inch of your body and you purposely swayed your hips a bit more. he knew you were fuming about his actions and he loved it. the two of you loved making the other jealous. it was a sick cycle.
the three of you were now outside heading towards the car when you heard a pair of heels behind you and then two voices. turning around you saw the woman from earlier, the lady the three of you were here to steal information from, now talking to tangerine with a hand on his chest. their voices were quiet and tangerine's eyes quickly glanced over at you as he shot the woman a feigned smile. at this moment you didn't even care. you stalked over to the two pushing the woman to the side gripping tangerine's tie with such force it nearly ripped from the collar. the woman had stumbled to the side but she was now an afterthought as you shoved tangerine against the brick wall nearby.
you grabbed his face resting your palms on his cheeks and kissed him roughly. your fingernails scraped across his scalp, his hair knotting in between your fingers. his hands found themselves on your waist pulling you in closer. tangerine's tongue swiped across your bottom lip and you gladly let him in. he could taste the tequila and he couldn't tell if it was the alcohol or the kiss making his head fuzzy. but he loved it and he wanted more. he wanted every inch of your body on him. he wanted you underneath him, your nails marking his back as he kissed the special spot on your neck.
"we gotta get the fuck outta here love," tangerine grumbled against your lips swinging your body into his arms and trekking to the car.
as you retreated to the car in tangerine's arms you glanced over his shoulder. the woman had stayed where she was in shock and all you could do was wiggle your fingers at her in goodbye knowing she was staying here while you left with tangerine knowing soon enough he'd find home between your legs.
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