#literally all I wanna do is play with his hair and stroke his fingers to gradually make him less afraid of himself
Text
officially titled "Naptime", a reverse comfort-ish ASMR with Shigaraki Tomura, featuring breathing toward the end, has been posted!
(beware that there are also some scratching sounds when he's scratching; they're brief and not very loud but they're there!)
"I'm never exactly comfortable... but, you're the closest I ever get."
#My Hero Academia#Boku no Hero Academia#Tomura#Shigaraki Tomura#ASMR#reverse comfort#fluff#you calm down the handman and gently get him down for a double nap and play with his hair and give him kisses#literally all I wanna do is play with his hair and stroke his fingers to gradually make him less afraid of himself#I love him <3 <3 <3#SoundCloud
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
Just a little something something for you guys...as a treat😈
When Simon's away for a while on deployment, it can get lonely. He's knows by the way your texting, when he gets the chance and can text, that you are missing him like crazy. You tell him how you can hardly wait till he returns, how your body is just aching for him something fierce.
And fuck his aching for yours too.
If he could hop on a plane, he would in an instant just to get back to you. Unfortunately, that's not something available to him at the moment.
But that doesn't mean there's nothing for him to do.
Simon knows his baby needs something to take the edge off, something to tide over that insatiable appetite for him until he can come home and fuck her proper the first chance he can get. You never asked for it, but he knew you wouldn't mind.
Ding
Your phone goes off. It's late, but youre no stranger to staying up well past dark; sometimes that was the only way you'd get a minute to talk to Simon when he was away across the world.
You check your phone. It's a text... a picture...
At first glance at the small icon on the lock screen, the image is kind of dark so you have to click on it to bring it up and when you do you nearly faint.
The caption reads: “Gotta be stealthy so they don't fuckin' catch me, but this one's for you sweetheart."
Simon is clearly propped up in his cot, his legs splayed open, shirt off. All that you can see is his thick torso with it's small speckling of light colored hair across his abs. The belt and zipper of his pants are completely undone and the waistband flung open. In one of his meaty hands he has a hold of his cock, already swollen with a little glistening at the top caught in the low light - most definitely a product from thinking of you.
You have to swallow to keep the spit from dribbling down out of the corner your mouth. Instantly you feel the heat rise in your cheeks, burning through your face as the blood pools there. It feels like you are going to pass out.
He's done it, he's taken your breath away in an instant.
Not even recovered from that glorious image your phone dings again, this time downloading something for a few seconds. Your heart pounds in your chest, your breath caught in your lungs, as you wait to see what he's done now.
Ding
It's downloaded. This time it's a video...about a minute long. Your shaky, excited finger instantly clicks play.
"Mmmm..." his breath groan hits your ears as the vision of him stroking his length plays across the screen. His voice in hushed, clearly trying to be as quiet as he can while still making sure you can hear his words. "Fuck darlin', I wish you were here... rather have that sweet little pussy 'round me than my hand."
You've stopped breathing, literally; you could hear a pin drop in the room. The video of his abdominal muscles contracting and releasing as he continues to stroke his cock is all you can focus on now. Looks like he's in the middle of things.
He groans again, his breathing getting faster. "Fuck, I miss ya luv. It's been hell not having ya near for this fuckin' long. Nearly rippin' a hole in my goddamn pants from being so fuckin hard. I swear... gonna absolutely wreck ya when I get back. Don't even bother wearing any panties cause they're gonna get shredded off ya. Nothin', and I mean fuckin' nothin' is gonna keep me from buryin' all this in ya the fuckin' second we're alone. I wanna make you cum so fuckin bad baby."
The video fades out amongst the sound of another low, gravely moan and your sanity is gone. Dear God you were a lucky one tonight. You have to take several minutes just to relearn how to function properly again so you can text him back.
Before you can do that your phone goes off once more.
Ding
One final message pops up on screen: "Think of me later when you cum, sweetheart..."
Oh, you would, you would. And maybe just to be nice...you'd send him something back too.
Part 2:
#simon ghost riley#simon riley#call of duty#ghost cod#ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#ghost mw2#cod mw2#simon riley smut#simon ghost riley smut#simon ghost riley x reader#simin ghost riley#ghost simon riley#simon ghost x you#simon ghost x reader#ghost call of duty#ghost#simon smut
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
🗒️ 、KISS IT BETTER BABY
playboy! jake x fem reader 762 words warning kissing genre fluff mikaela’s note this and intentions are literally the same because i love playboys
“You act as if you’re obsessed with me, Jake,” you point out, eyes playfully rolling back at him, the absolute bane of your parent’s existence, your boyfriend.
The dim lighting of the empty corridor only does justice to Jake Sim as he glows, hair slicked back in his all black suit that made him look like Lucifer himself. And it’s utterly ironic, how he tempts you like a sinner then treats you like an angel.
“I am though,” he grins, not a single hint of embarrassment evident in his voice, “sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night screaming your name.” It’s a whisper, yet it’s loud as his words resonate in your chest, sending chills down your spine.
He bends down, your back plastered against the cool marble wall of the fancy hotel that you should know the name of, yet everything is fuzzy as you come face to face with Jake. His effect on you is everlasting, just like it was when you first met him.
Out of the many rules imposed on you, one was written in bold, highlighted in fluorescent, and drilled into your mind — never ever befriend or even talk to a Sim. They’re rude and manipulative, taking every single opportunity to drain you dry for their own gains.
But you couldn’t help your weak heart, especially not when a boy like Jake Sim stood in front of you, face sculpted like a Greek god as he adored you as if you were the one that was otherworldly.
And so it started — climbing through windows unethically when the sky was a stroke of midnight blue, lies and lies that you were feeling unwell just to get pulled into an empty room to meet Jake. It was bad, very wrong, yet not a single tinge of guilt could be found in you.
“Not here,” you mutter, palms placed flat against his muscular chest. “Someone might be watching.”
He groans, “whatever, baby, let them watch.” His eyes are etched on your lips, tongue darting out swiftly before he bends down once again, “wanna show you off for once.”
Your lips are smooth, falling open at the brush of his tongue, welcoming him as his ring clad fingers grasp your hips. It’s heaven on earth, and Jake wishes that he could have you by his side every second of the day, that he could have the only privilege he had ever wanted amidst all in his life — to kiss you whenever he wanted to.
Jake doesn’t know how it happened, maybe it was curiosity or just the pure fact that you were labelled as forbidden that made the thought of you more appealing, more intoxicating, more fun. And he never expected it to be anything more than a game, but here he was, confessing that you were all he could ever think about, dream about.
“Jake,” you whine, pushing him away with great effort before glancing around to see if anyone was watching. Jake thinks he might go insane just looking at you, swollen lips and pretty face as you stare at him in slight disappointment — but how could he ever control the urge to kiss his pretty girl.
“Jake?” He cocks his head to the side, lips slightly downturned as he laments, “we’re alone right now and you’re calling me Jake? You wound me.” He holds back a cocky smirk at the way your eyes dim at the sight of his facade.
“You can always kiss it better, baby.” The playful smirk that he’s unable to hold back now showcased on his face, and it’s times like this that you find yourself cursing Jake Sim and his godly charm. He’s playing with you, and it’s painfully obvious, and you can’t seem to do anything but stare with burning red ears and cheeks.
“C’mon baby, don’t be shy, I’m all yours.” You can feel his hot breath hitting your lips, fingers caressing your waist as he pulls you closer and gives you nothing but teasing glances as he waits for you to initiate the kiss.
“We’re not supposed to do this,” you murmur, yet your actions oppose your words as you close the gap between his lips and yours, pure ecstasy as he smiles into the kiss.
Again and again, as Jake Sim pressed soft kisses on your lips, under the dim lighting of the hallway, just a few metres away from your parents. But he thinks it doesn’t matter what the consequences might be, he’d be fine as long as you were there to kiss it better.
© SJYUNS
#prada jake has me on chokehold#⪩⪨ mikaela's#enhypen#enhypen drabbles#enhypen fluff#enhypen soft hours#enhypen x reader#enhypen headcanons#enhypen oneshots#kpop fluff#enhypen imagines#enhypen jake imagines#jake x reader#jake imagines#jake fluff#enhypen jake#enhypen jake x reader#jake x you#enhypen x you#enhypen x female reader#jake scenarios
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Morning sex with Patrick | NSFW HEADCANON
— PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x Fem!Reader
— A/N: That was very sudden, but I hope you like it. Many thanks to @sleeplessphantom for inspiration and @optional for the amazing gifs!😍
— LINKS: [MASTERLIST] [buy me a coffee]💓
It was no secret that Patrick's sex drive was quite high, so even if he fucked you before you went to sleep, it didn't mean he wouldn't fuck you again in the morning. Especially if you acted like a brat all day.
If Bateman woke up early, you were already in trouble, because his big palms would find their way under your clothes before you could even notice. Inch by inch he would explore your tender skin, enjoying the way your body would react to his small, innocent touches, making his cock harder than ever.
Patrick would play with your breasts, rolling your taut nipples between his skillful fingers as he turned on his side, pulling you closer to his body so you could not escape what was to come. Elated, Bateman would greedily take your little tip in his mouth, closing his eyes in sweet pleasure as you knit your beautiful eyebrows, by this time you would be so fucking wet and he would make sure to check it.
"Mmmhm," you mewled as you felt his hot breath on your belly as he descended upon you. "Pat… Patty!"
"Yes, babydoll," he growled back in a raspy voice, kissing your inner thigh as he caressed another. "I'm here and I'm gonna make you feel so fucking good."
Slowly you opened your eyes to see the sun reflecting off his beautiful hair, giving it a golden hue, while Bateman was already settling between your legs.
The burning sensation of his hot tongue on your sensitive clit made you almost bite the pillow — every time he did it felt like the first time, it was overwhelming and astonishing because he knew what he was doing. He always did.
"Aww—Daddy," you arched your back and buckled your legs up to his face as he lapped at your juicy pussy, holding you wide open for his thirsty mouth. "So good, it f-feels so good!"
Throwing your head back, you crumpled the blankets underneath you from the pulsating tension in your lower belly as Patrick was literally devouring your warm body, not forgetting to make lewd noises that drove you crazy. But as soon as he felt you begin to convulse, he stopped everything and pulled away from your heated slit, forcing a sad gasp from your rapidly breathing chest.
"Patrick?" You leaned up on your elbows to look down at him, but at the same moment he deftly grabbed your hand to wrap it around his engorged length. With each stroke, Bateman's panting grew louder and soon he was closing his eyes in pleasure, tilting his head and letting go of your hand as he allowed you to take control of the pace.
"Such a good little girl," he groaned passionately before lying down next to you and placing his hand where his mouth had been a few minutes ago. "Today I wanna see you bouncing on my cock."
His words, along with the circular rubbing movements around your swollen bud, made you whimper and encouraged you to jerk him faster. For a brief moment, the two of you would look into each other's eyes, blurry with intoxicating desire, as your hands were giving too much pleasure by playing with needy, hot flesh.
Soon you would be hopping on top of him, wailing pitifully as his beefy dick rammed into you from below, his firm hips giving you no rest.
"Daddy! You're s-so big!" Shaking, you cried out with your eyes closed as his strong arms pinned you down on his thick cock, slapping your ass from time to time when you dared to slow down just a tiny bit.
"Argh—yeah, just like that," he praised you, admiring the view of your bouncing breasts as you did your best to ride him hard, no matter how painful it was for your little hole - his veiny shaft tore you from the inside. "Use my cock... mhmm... use my cock like a dirty slut you are!"
Whimpering, you leaned on his buffed torso, speeding up and letting yourself get lost in the fire of passion, the curve of his dick hitting all the right spots and the angle of penetration was so sick — you had no choice but to cum hard around him, squeezing his pulsating cock so vividly.
"Mmhm! I'm so... SO CLOSE... AWW!"
"Jeez, your greedy pussy is clinging to me so fucking tight!" Bateman grunted, forcing you to sprawl across his chest as he fucked you senselessly, his strong arms giving you no chance to move.
You fell over the edge, feeling the waves of pleasure hit every part of your body like an electric shock. Patrick had to thrust harder to break through the grip of your pussy, soon he would join you in the ocean of bliss, spending his warm seed in your womb until it began to flow down.
And only after some time, when you both had recovered your breath, would Bateman cradle your face and bring you closer to kiss you gently on the lips, murmuring: "That's what I call a 'good morning.'"
P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!
#american psycho#patrick bateman x reader#patrick bateman imagine#patrick bateman#patrick bateman x female reader#patrick bateman x you#slasher x reader#slashers x reader#slasher x you#slasher smut#patrick bateman smut#patrick bateman headcanon#christian bale smut#christian bale x reader#patrick bateman reader#christian bale#patrick bateman imagines
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
All The Man That I Need (18+)
Beefy!Bucky x Female Reader
Warnings:18+, Smut, Size Kink, Oral Sex (F Receiving), Squirting, Missionary Position, Kissing. If I've missed anything that you want tagged just let me know!
Authour's Note: There's literally no plot here whatsoever, just shameless smut. I haven't written for bucky in a while so I wanted to try writing for him again, but honestly writing this was a bit of a struggle so it may not be my best work.
Word Count:1,524
Masterlist Bucky Barnes Masterlist
There was no shred of doubt about it, Bucky was big. In every sense of the word. Tall, broad and deliciously thick. His hair falling down along his chiselled, strong jaw in soft chocolate tresses.
There was only one word that came to mind when you laid your eyes on your Bucky.
Beefy.
Bucky was also immensely strong, with powerful muscles padding along the length of his arms, both human and metal alike. His legs were long, his thighs just as powerful as his arms, with sturdy muscles running the length of them.
Never have you ever felt more safe than when you’re held in the comforting warmth of his embrace, resting your head on the well-defined muscle of his chest. His arms circling you to bring you close to him, just where he always wanted you to be.
Bucky also never misses the opportunity to show off to you his super-soldier size and strength. Every inch of his six foot tall frame towered over you, but never once did he ever make you feel intimidated.
His size and strength also came into play in the bedroom. Easily picking you up in his arms as if you weigh next to nothing, carrying you to the bed with a gentleness that others may have assumed he wasn't capable of, but you knew that wasn't true.
He caged you beneath him, stroking his thumb over your cheek tenderly. before leaning down to capture your lips in a kiss that was full of passion.
"You're so beautiful, Doll." His steely grey-blue eyes sparkle in the moonlit-glow streaming in through the window, illuminating the otherwise dark room.
His lips descend lower, kissing his way down the column of your throat, occasionally stopping to nibble and suck hickeys into the crook of your neck.
His lips trail further downwards, kissing his way across your collarbones and over the plump swell of your breasts. Taking the time to shower each of your breasts with its equal share of gentle kisses.
His tongue darts out from between his pink lips, swirling around one of your nipples, teasing the bud into a hardened peak. Whilst his human hand works to tease your other nipple, pinching and rolling it between the rough pads of his fingertips.
His kisses continue to trail down your body, kissing in-between the valley of your breasts, moving down to kiss over the soft skin of your stomach, before laying a sweet kiss amongst the small thatch of hair between your legs.
Bucky wastes no time in raising your hips up and throwing one of your legs over his shoulder, opening you up to him.
He leans down to your core, the tip of his nose nudging at your clit as he begins to lick his way through your folds. His tongue flattens against you as he takes one long sweep from the bottom of your slit to the very top, using the tip of his tongue to quickly flick against your clit. He sucks your clit between his plump pink lips, before letting go with a wet pop.
With a desperate whine you find your hands tangling into the lengths of his shaggy brown hair, your chest rising and falling with shuddering breaths.
He listens and takes your desperate whines of pleasure as a sign that you needed a little more from him.
“You want one of my fingers, huh Doll?” he asks, drawing back from you to look you deep in the eyes.
“Please..” your voice rasps out.
“Which one do you want, hm? You want this one?” he asks as the chill of his cold metal hand softly squeezes the plump flesh of your thigh.
You shake your head.
“No?” his deep rumbling voices teases.
“Want your other hand…please…just wanna feel you..please” you plead, desperate to feel the warm touch of his human hand.
“Well since you asked so nicely..” he smirks before slowly easing one of his thick fingers into your tight wet heat.
He begins to slowly draw his finger in and out, making sure to press against that spot deep inside you that has your hips wriggling against the mattress. His metal hand is held over your stomach, providing you with a gentle pressure that makes everything he's doing feel so much more intense. You're fighting the urge to arch your back from the pleasure, but the chill of his metal hand against the heated flush of your skin keeps you right where he wants you to be.
“Oh you need it real bad don’t you Doll?” he’s relentless in his teasing. He always is. Always knowing just the right things to say that will have you wordlessly nodding your head for more.
His finger brushes against the spot inside you that has you rolling your hips.
His lips are on you once more, working in tandem with his finger, as he tastes you with an unabashed confidence.
“Tastes so fuckin’ sweet baby..Know you’re close, I can feel you squeezing my finger..” he mumbles against you as tongue continues to flick against your clit.
“Come for me, Doll…” he pleads as he watches how your heaving breaths of pleasure turn into desperate whines.
With one more thrust of his finger inside you and the flick of his tongue over your sensitive clit, you felt your orgasm rush over you. Your tight cunt pulsing with a wet gush as you squirt out your release.
You hear a deep rumbling laugh as you look down between your thighs to see Bucky pull back for a moment, only to see his face glistening with the evidence of your orgasm. His tongue is immediately darting out to savour your taste on his lips, never missing out on the opportunity to drink down every last drop of you.
Leaning back on his haunches you see him slowly stroke his hand up and down his cock, teasing the head by swiping a thumb through the pooling mess of pre-cum glistening at his tip.
“See what eating your pussy does to me baby? Swear nothing makes me harder than getting to taste your sweetness on my tongue, Doll.”
With his cock held firmly in his hand he lays the length of him down against your lower stomach, almost as if he’s sizing you up. His tip coming up to rest just below your belly button, leaving a stick smear of pre-cum as he taps his heavy dick against your skin.
You were all too aware of Bucky's impressively sizable length, but seeing him line himself up against you like that makes you realise just how big he is, and how much he fills you up.
He lines himself up with your entrance, pushing his hips forward slowly with a groan. Filling you up inch by inch with his thick cock. Working himself until he is fully settled inside you.
He gives you a moment to adjust to the stretch, knowing that you always need a quick moment to gather yourself when he fills you so completely.
He feels your heels digging into his back and that's all the go-ahead he needs before he's drawing his hips back and thrusting himself into your tight wet cunt.
He rolls his hips experimentally before he feels your nails digging into his shoulder bringing him close as you whisper in his ear.
“Want it hard…please..” you whine, placing a sweet kiss below his ear.
Bucky immediately pulls you close to him, his metal hand squeezing into the plump curve of your hips as he begins to fuck his hips into you with sharp precise thrusts.
The feeling of his thick cock stretching you out straddles the thin line between pain and pleasure, with each thrust into you he satisfies you more than anyone had ever done before.
“Look at you, Doll…Look so pretty underneath me like this…fuck..take my cock so well..” he groans, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss.
His other hand snakes down to rub circles around your clit with practised ease, knowing your body as well as he did, he knew exactly the right way to touch you that would have you falling apart under his touch.
He continues to work your body, the feeling of him deep inside you and his fingers rubbing you so perfectly has you rolling your eyes back as your orgasm rushed over you.
“That’s it, pretty girl…come for me…wanna feel you squeezing me..” he moans in his deep raspy voice.
With a few more rolls of his hips, he buries his length inside you as deep as he can before he’s filling you up with rope after rope of his release, swallowing your moans in a deep kiss.
Taking a moment to gather himself with a steadying breath he slowly pulls out of you, his eyes never leaving you as he watches the flow of him drip out of you.
Laying down beside you in the bed he pulls you into his strong arms, once again keeping you safe in his embrace. He places a loving and tender kiss into the crown of your hair.
"My perfect Doll…I love you so much.."
tags @itsfreakingbats @sidepartskinnyjeans @buckgasms
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#bucky x reader smut#bucky barnes x reader smut#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky x female reader#bucky x female reader smut#bucky barnes smut#bucky smut#marvel fanfiction
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Sorry, Love
Summary: You and Steven had discussed the idea of somno, but never actually gotten round to doing it... until now.
Pairing: Steven Grant x fem reader
Rating: 18+ obvs, nsfw
Warnings/content: somno, desperate and pervy Steven, male masturbation, humping, mentions of using/being used, rubbing pussy with cock (idk what that's called), unprotected sex, p in v, creampie.
.................................
The idea of touching you in your sleep seemed somewhat alien to Steven. He couldn't grasp the thought that you'd want to be touched by him when you aren't even able to feel the pleasure yourself. However, the more he tossed the thought around in his head, the more excited he'd become with it. Of course, you explained the ins and outs of it to him (literally), and it's not like he's a novice at reading the signs from your body... hell, he's probably better at it than you on some occasions.
One night, after a considerable serving of vegan lasagna, you fall asleep on the couch with your head resting in Steven's lap, and that's when he's reminded of your conversation. His cock stirs under your head while he gently plays with your hair, his tongue darting out to lick his lips in hesitation. Carefully, his hand glides over his joggers and grips the outline of his cock to squeeze lightly and get himself hard; which isn't difficult. His other fingers trace your facial features, feather light touches contrasting with the grip he has around his buldge.
She's so pretty when she sleeps. He thinks to himself, a soft pant leaving his lips as he simultaneously runs his thumb over your bottom lip and the tip of his cock. Sliding his hand into his joggers, he pulls his cock out finally and gives himself a few harsh tugs. Your face is just centimetres away from his cock while he pumps his fist around himself, staring at your beautiful features. His thumb swipes over the tip again and that's when he lets out a soft moan of your name, his teeth latching onto his bottom lip in an attempt to not wake you with his noises.
It feels really good doing this, perversely good, he continues to think to himself, she has no bloody idea, not a clue in the world-
His hand starts moving faster, the intervals in which he teases the tip of his cock now becoming shorter.
I wanna cum all over her face- shit- I'm gonna cum on her.
His chest heaves, and just as quickly as he'd gotten hard, he cums over his hand and your face with strained moans, making sure to get it on your lips. The sight in itself would be enough to make him hard again, but he doesn't want to push his luck, or run the risk of freaking you out.
A few days later, he divulges what he did to your face, and much to his surprise (even after the discussion about it), you're not mad at him.
"Steven, i told you that it's ok, it's... hot" you say, chuckling a little bit as you finish your pancakes he'd lovingly made for you.
"God, are you sure? Please tell me if it made you uncomfortable, i mean yeah it was a good wank but i wouldn't want it to be at the expense of your comfor-"
"Steven! Shut up" you say as your hands land on his face, stroking his cheeks with your fingers which soothes him, "i like it, ok?"
"Right- yeah of course, sorry, Love." Steven presses his nose into the palm of your hand, closing his eyes to enjoy your touch.
"You can do more than that, too" you add and gently move your hands down his toned arms to his hands, which are still fidgetting in his lap "i wouldn't mind it if you wanted to touch me, y'know, in all the places you like." You bring his hands up to touch your chest while your eyes linger on his, the gesture making his body falter and his shoulders drop a little in submission.
"You know how to touch me, Steven, so do it, use me."
Those words make steven visibly shiver, you always know how to loosen him up and get him comfortable, and that's one of the things he loves the most about you.
Even so, after a week of waiting, Steven still hasn't taken the opportunity to indulge in his fantasies... even after multiple occasions where you've made yourself fall asleep before him with nothing but a baggy t-shirt on in hopes you'd wake up with his cock burried inside you.
As you get ready for bed and pull that same old baggy shirt on, you notice something is up with steven, almost like he's feeling on edge or ansty; but you know that look, the way his eyes rake over your body and his tongue laps at his lips, he wants you, and bad.
You take that as an opportunity as your tummy fills with butterflies; maybe if you leave him like this, he'll finally act on his impulses and fuck you awake, so that's exactly what you do. Walking right past him, you get into bed and snuggle under the sheets, though the way your body is already reacting with excitement makes it hard for you to drift off, but eventually you do.
Many thoughts roam around Steven's psyche, ranging from she wants this, she's told me she's ok with it, to oh god what if she doesn't though and i misinterpreted it. Despite his doubts, however, the urge has grown too strong, and once he carefully removes the covers from your body, he's reassured by the position you've chosen to fall asleep in.
With no underwear on and your right leg coming up to your belly, your ass is perfectly exposed to him, and he can see the way your slick glistens in the dim light of the moon. The sight makes his half hard cock twitch in his joggers, and slowly he crawls over to you, wrapping his whole body around you.
Now usually, that'd be the perfect position for steven to fall asleep in, because loves cuddling you more than anything in the world, but the way he can feel your ass pressing against his crotch makes that difficult for him. His breathing becomes laboured as he starts tentatively rolling his hips against you, the fabric rubbing against the tip of his cock in a way that he knows will stain them with his precum, but that's the last thing he cares about right now. His arms are wrapped tightly around you, and if you were awake you'd be able to feel his muscles constricting you in the best way, holding you in place while he uses you to get off.
His forehead rests on the back of your head, his fingers sliding over your skin and up to your chest where you cups one of your boobs; admittedly one of his favourite parts of your body. He circles your nipples with his index finger in the way that's been proven to work on you in the past, and even now, as your brain sleeps, your body pushes back on him, rocking your hips in time with his.
That gesture simply urges Steven on, and his worries soon melt away, leaving him with pure desire to use your body. His face burries in your neck before he starts talking quietly to himself... and maybe you, or at least your sleeping brain.
"Shit love, you have no idea how much i love this," he reaches down and takes his cock out of his joggers, sliding it between your thighs thanks to your arousal from just thinking about this scenario earlier. "Seems like you like it too... this what you wanted? Is this why you've been wearing nothing but this cute shirt?" He pants softly and his hips rock a little less haphazardly now, fucking your thighs like he does with your cunt. "God i wanna do this to you every night" he groans "i know how deep you sleep... wonder if you'd even wake up if i put it inside you.." he thinks outloud.
You stir a little, but not enough to wake, so Steven continues what he's doing and holds his cock to your hole "i wanna fuck you awake, love" he mumbles, though it's more of a whimper as he pushes in carefully but surprisingly easily "bloody hell, you really do like this, don't you?"
He pulls out slowly and pauses for a second before thrusting back into you again...
..And that's when you wake up.
Steven's whole body freezes against you when you tilt your head towards him, fear gripping his nerves as if he'd been caught robbing a bank.
"Fucking hell baby, finally" you groan sleepily to him, the tone of your voice a mixture of lust and sleepiness. "Been waiting for you to fuck me awake all week, Steven." You gaze at him with passion while your hand wraps around his wrist "keep fucking me baby, please."
That's all Steven needs before he starts thrusting into you again, his hips setting a desperate and fast pace as if he'd been holding back just for you. "Been wanting to fuck you like this all week, love" he mumbles, though it's more of a whimper "it's all I've been able to.. to think about." His groans are loud and breathy, so he buries his face in your neck in an attempt to hide it.
"You should've done it sooner-" your head rests back against his while moans fall from your own lips "I've touched myself thinking about this so many times baby" you add, which warrants a particularly loud moan from the man.
Sliding his hand down your tummy, he wiggles his fingers between your thighs to find that bundle of nerves, and when he does you buck your hips against his hand "fuck! Steven that's it- that's good.. shit you fuck me so well!-" Your grip becomes tighter on his wrist as your orgasm builds blindingly fast now; faster than you can tell him, but that's ok, he knows your body better than you.
"I can feel you, dove, please- ah- please cum for me, cum on my cock, darling-" it all comes out strained as steven holds back his own orgasm, his hips stuttering and holding on just long enough to feel you tighten around his cock. Your moans fill the room while your body convulses on him, his cock still mercilessly fucking you through your orgasm till you're shaking.
" 'm gonna cum love- shit!" Steven fills you with his arousal, your contracting cunt milking him fucking dry until he's twitching and whimpering with overstimulation.
You both stay still for a long time, calming down from your collective orgasms, and part of you wishes that you could just go back to sleep in his arms now.
Steven's the first to break the comfortable silence. "That really was great, darling" he mumbles softly with a yawn "are you ok?" He kisses your cheek and you turn to face him with a massive grin "more than ok, baby" you reply.
"Let's do that more often."
.
Tagging people: @red-hydra @steven-grants-world @automnepoet @the-king-87 @lokisremainingsanity @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction
#moon knight smut#steven grant fanfiction#steven grant smut#steven grant x you#steven grant x reader#moon knight system#moon knight fanfiction
918 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hey, can i have Lucifer x gn! reader that suffers from migraines? It can just be headcanons, really.
I dont have any specifics for it.
Nonniieeeeee, I’m so sorry! I’m not sure when you sent this but I’m finally getting to it. Thanks for being so patient, to you and everyone who’s requested recently. Also, I hope you’re feeling okay, anon. ❤️🩹 And as always, enjoy~
Notes: gn!reader, just fluff and Luci being such a sweetheart ALSO I GOT TWO LUCI POSTS DONE IN ONE DAY FUCK YEAH!!!
Lucifer x reader- S/O suffers from migraines
“OH DARLING! MY ANGEL BABY! Come, lay down. I’ll get you an ice pack. Or would you prefer a heating pad? Tell me what you need, my love. Daddy’s here for you~”
Good luck. This guy is gonna cling to you and baby you all day until you feel better okay? Just prepare yourself
Will literally, actually, for real do anything you ask. He just feels so bad for you and hates seeing you like this so go ahead, tell him what you need.
Meds? You got it! He’s flying over to get them so fast and returning to your side before you can even blink
You cold? Need a blanket? Come here, let Luci wrap you up in his plethora of thick plush wings 💋
Wanna take a nap? He’s draping blankets over you, fluffing the pillow before tucking it under your throbbing head, makes sure the room is dark and quiet.
Will definitely hum softly to you as you cuddle and rest together.
Lots of soft kisses to your head and face- comes in waves like…he’ll kiss the top of your head once and then a few minutes later, he’s peppering your face in repetitively sweet kisses.
Will also full-on make out with you if that’ll distract you from the pain *wink wink*
Also, a lot of gentle touches, lightly tickling your skin, letting his fingertips wander over any bits of exposed skin he sees.
Might even strip off some of your clothes but strictly for the purpose of exposing more of your skin for him to softly stroke or rub comforting circles on.
Plays with your hair- starts by gently running his fingers through it and eventually ends up giving you a scalp massage that has you falling asleep in his hands.
When/if you get tired of him being clingy or you just want some alone time, please tell him! He’d rather you bruise his ego a bit by telling him you need space than you be even more miserable with him around. If you need a break from him, just say so and he’ll leave you be but he’s gonna come check on you every 15 minutes and ask you like 50 times if you’re mad at him lol
Will happily run off to the kitchen to make you soup or tea, something warm and comforting
One time he accidentally walked in on you taking a nap and when you woke up, at first he was like “Hi, honey. You okay?” And when you explain in a groggy voice that you have a killer migraine and you’re trying to sleep it off, he lowkey gets mad at himself for disturbing you and begs for your forgiveness. No matter your reply, he still asks “Want some company?” Before crawling into bed with you.
Also, one time found you crying on the couch due to the immense pain in your head, the throbbing and aching becoming too much.
Luci dramatically swooped you up in his arms and took you to lay down in bed. Cooed in your ear while wiping your tears away and holding you close to him.
He shed a tear along with you bc oh no his poor baby is in so much pain, it physically hurts his heart
Basically, just the sweetest little sweet pea in the entire Hellaverse, okay? No one in hell could take care of you better than the big boss himself ❤️🔥
#lucifer hazbin hotel#lucifer morningstar x reader#lucifer headcanons#hazbin lucifer#lucifer hazbin#lucifer hazbin x reader#hazbin lucifer x reader#lucifer x reader#lucifer x you#hazbin hotel lucifer#lucifer morningstar#hazbin#hazbin hotel#hazbin x reader#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel headcanon
356 notes
·
View notes
Text
triptych - pt ii
pairing: tommy miller x joel miller x f!reader
word count: 3.3k
summary: after a shitty day, the man you've been chatting with all evening brings you back to his place only for you to discover he lives with his brother, an old flame of yours. they both fuck you. pre-outbreak. 18+
warnings: ooof i know i'm gonna miss something but here goes! multiple orgasms, dirty talk, pussy eating, dick sucking, ass eating/ass play, anal, joel miller is an ass man, double penetration, it's literally just porn there is so little substance here it's shameful, probably not incest but maybe a little??? like the brothers aren't into each other but their balls kinda touch so i'll leave that just in case..., light spanking, creampie, light breeding?, pls tell me if i'm missing anything important
a/n: wowowow i cannot believe how fuckin lovely y'all are, i hadn't been writing for years but i certainly never received so much feedback. thanks for reading and interacting and being part of such a cool and deeply horny community 😅 my asks are always open and i'd love to take on some requests! thank u to those who've sent some so far, i'm working on them now. besides requests, upcoming fics include a follow-up to bad girl and a vampire au 💕
also, thank you for indulging in this pairing!! (grouping?) i feel like a lot of threesome fics are very pro-joel with tommy cucking, and though they're fucking excellent, i wanted to give tommy some love and an equal place at the side of his incredibly hot brother.
check out part i
when you'd first sat down at that grimy dive bar, never in a million years would you have anticipated the scene that was unfolding in front of you now.
“shit," tommy says, "she looks so nice down on her knees for us, huh joel?”
joel looks feral as he stares you down. "such a good girl for us,” he agrees, “but we gotta see if that mouth can do more than talk.”
he's holding your wrists behind your back, while tommy grips a firm hand through your hair and unbuckles his belt with the other.
"open up, baby," tommy says, and presses one finger into your mouth and then another. he gently strokes his fingers in and out of your mouth, pressing into your tongue, slowly going deeper and deeper till you're sure you can feel the digits at the back of your throat. you can feel that you've started to drool a little, and tommy lets out a little groan at the discovery.
"you think you're ready for me?" tommy asks, and you nod.
in one smooth motion, his cock is springing from his boxers and the head is pressing gently at your lips.
feeling just the tip in your mouth, you already know your jaw is gonna hurt tomorrow. you relax your jaw and open wider, and tommy makes a slightly strangled noise that you take as a great sign.
as he fucks into your mouth, your eyes begin to water and tommy notices, brushing the tears away.
"you're takin' it so good," joel lavishes his praise on you and you never want it to end, "such a good girl, aren't you? keep that throat nice and open for my brother, won't ya? i know you wanna relax into it, baby, let him see just how much you love havin his dick down your throat."
it makes you moan, his words making you almost uncomfortably wet. tommy keeps thrusting down your throat, hips occasionally stuttering.
"shit, honey-" tommy says, and chuckles at your whine when he pulls his cock out of your mouth, "you're suckin' it so good, i need a break or i'm gonna come in that pretty mouth a whole lot sooner than i mean to."
joel drops your wrists and backs up to the sofa.
"why don'tcha sit on my lap, darlin'?" he grins, and pats on his inner thigh, his cock visibly straining in his jeans, a little damp patch visible where you're sure the tip is.
"only if you take your pants off," you say, and joel's eyebrows shoot up.
joel considers. "fine, but we're gonna work you up real nice before you get to sit on anyone's cock.
once you're sat on joel's lap, his cock straining against his boxers, tommy’s kissing you with such frenzied passion you feel dizzy. the sensation is only heightened when joel runs a knuckle down your spine, dragging over each vertebrae, massaging and tantalising. then both hands are grabbing at your waist and over your hips as if mapping you out. it’s not overtly hungry, not yet, but there’s a sensuality to it you didn’t quite remember from your brief and ill-fated encounters with joel years back. you're suddenly hit with a pang of sadness that you never stayed in touch. you would've liked to see him get his first grey hairs. instead it feels like you hit fast forward and jolted ahead.
joel's close behind you and you feel his hot breath on your neck as he pulls down the neckline of your top and licks a line along the hollow of your collarbone and back up to your ear, and the drag of his tongue is delicious. he nibbles on your earlobe and the sensation draws an obscene moan from your lips.
tommy’s close to you, too, his big hands cupping your jaw as he kisses his tongue deep into your mouth, running it along your teeth. his cock is still hanging out from his jeans, thick and hard, and you don't try to disguise the way you stare at it as you look him up and down.
"you've got far too many clothes on, sweetheart," tommy grins, and you pull off your top. before you can unhook your bra, joel's already unfastened it and is helping you pull it off.
tommy drops to his knees now, licking and sucking at your nipples, as joel unbuttons your pants, unzips them, and helps you lift your hips to yank them off of you.
the graze of tommy's teeth against the sensitive flesh of your breast makes you whimper and rut up on joel's thigh, and the brothers both laugh at your desperate noises.
"shit, she's needy, ain't she?" joel teases as he grips your waist with one hand and lets the other drag down to your panties, holding you in place while he starts to rub his fingers along your slit through the damp fabric.
he tugs at the band of your lace panties and ponders for a moment. "you partial to these?" he asks, and you shrug, "not particularly".
"good," joel says. that's all he needs to hear before he's tearing them apart and dropping the tattered fabric aside.
"well now you're just putting on a show," you tease, and he laughs but doesn't disagree. he just strokes a finger along your folds.
"i think you're a girl who likes a show," he tells you as he gathers up a little bit of your slick and slides it along your pussy. "now, what else do you like, darlin'? you want me to play with your lil clit? or just finger fuck you?"
"both," you whine, "any of it. all of it, please-"
he teases a finger into you very gently, just a little press that goes a little deeper each time he pulls it out and presses back in, till you realise he's sinking it in all the way to the hand with each thrust.
right as he adds another finger, to your surprise, tommy drops to his knees. he spreads your thighs wider and looks up for a moment, and you think you can feel joel nod behind you. that's all it takes, and tommy dives in. joel thrusts his fingers into you more urgently as laves kisses on and around your clit. he deepens it, pressing harder, flicking his tongue furiously along your swollen nerve endings and there's enough sensation that you know you won't last long.
"yes, that's it," you cry, and now it's your turn to grab tommy by the hair and press his face right where you need it the most. you're grinding up on his tongue while joel steadily continues to pump his fingers in and out of you, and you know you couldn't be quiet even if you tried.
"fuck," your words sound more like sobs now and you really don't give a shit, "keep going, just like that, joel you can go harder, tommy yes, lick my clit like that, i'm gonna- i'm gonna come-"
"good girl," joel talks you through it, "letting us take care of you like this. you need us to fuck you stupid, don'tcha? you're gonna leave here in the mornin' all stretched open, feeling us deep inside ya for days, huh?"
his filthy words are all you need to teeter over the edge- "fuuuck!" you scream, and you're positively panting now, verging on hysterical. you know joel can feel your pussy clench around him, you're so wet you're worried you've ruined joel's jeans, and you're so overstimulated that you can't speak more than a syllable or two at a time.
"oh you come so pretty," tommy says, pulling away from you to speak. you can see the way his lips are glistening with your slick before he kisses you on your inner thighs, peppering the soft skin with attention.
then, your eyes practically roll back in your head as he dives back in.
joel hasn't stopped fingering you, either, and once tommy's mouth is back on you, joel presses his fingers back into you more deeply again.
"shit, it's too much, i don't think i can take another this quick-" you try to say, but joel shushes you.
"i can already feel it coming," joel tells you, "can feel how your thighs are trembling, how you're already clenching down on me."
you're treading dangerously close to uncomfortably overstimulated, but you're also so completely turned on, you barely care. if you're gonna die in pursuit of a nut, so be it.
"fuck, you're right-" you tell joel, and tommy moans into you letting delicious vibrations pulse through you, and that sends you over the edge again.
you thrust and writhe and rut against them both, and tommy shows you mercy this time, drawing back and letting you get a little relief from the overwhelm of sensation instead of keeping his mouth on you.
you need a moment to catch your breath, and both joel and tommy rub soothing circles into your skin, joel's hands on your hips and tommy's on your thighs, and it feels exquisite.
"that's it, sweetheart, that's it-" joel soothes, and though your breathing's evened out, you know your thighs are still shaking.
tommy's licking up the arousal from between your thighs as if cleaning you off, and he looks up at you with almost dopey, half-lidded eyes, grinning.
"you taste like heaven, honey," he says, and he looks almost as fucked out as you feel. all this from eating pussy, you wonder, and that's another point in the favor of tommy miller being a man who likes to take care of fine things.
"i think i'm gettin' jealous now," joel teases, "i might need a taste, too."
without another word, tommy kisses you deeply and you taste yourself on his tongue. joel tilts your head back to meet him, and he kisses the taste from your mouth, groaning as he does it.
the sounds they're both making are so fucking hot, you love how they emote. there's nothing as unsexy as getting fucked by someone who stays absolutely silent throughout, and hearing them as pathetic as you feel works you up even more.
"what do you need, sweetheart," joel asks, and he's running a finger along your swollen folds now, teasing and torturous.
"you want us to fuck your pussy and your mouth," he asks, and moves to stroke a finger along your cheek, "you wanna have a big cock on either end of ya?"
you shake your head and joel raises his eyebrows.
"tell us what you want, baby," tommy says, and joel drags his fingers back along your pussy before tentatively using his forefinger to circle your asshole.
"please, joel-" you realise you're begging and it draws a laugh from tommy.
"you're a naughty girl, aren't you?" tommy asks, and the way he's grinning tells you that he wouldn't want it any other way.
"wanna feel full of you, both of you-" you whine.
"you gotta tell us, else we won't know what you want," joel says. from his tone of voice, it's clear he knows exactly what you want, but you need to beg for it.
"my pussy. and my ass. wanna ride both of you, feel both of you, get fucked by both of you-"
"jesus christ," tommy moans, "i bet we can make that happen, huh, big brother?"
you turn around to look at joel and his pupils are so blown, his eyes look black.
"bedroom." joel says, and it isn't a request.
tommy scoops you up in his arms and follows joel to his bedroom.
"drop her right here," joel says to tommy, and you're deposited on the edge of the bed, joel kneeling on the floor in front of you.
"looks so pretty for us," tommy says, and he sits down in an armchair near the foot of the bed and starts stroking his aching cock.
you'd been so fucked out already, you almost forgot you'd done almost nothing to take care of them. tommy's cock looks almost red and angry, and joel's is still tucked into his boxers, but the damp spot is spreading and it looks so thick through the fabric.
"let's get you ready for us, sweetheart," joel says, and without any more warning, he hooks his hands under your knees and pulls you up, legs spread, knees hanging over his shoulders. "i'm gonna eat this cute lil asshole, baby," he says and spits on your tight hole before rubbing his thumb gently against it, spreading the saliva.
he teases you with his tongue a little, testing it before pressing it flat and licking along it. you moan, and he growls against you.
you learn very quickly that joel miller is an ass man.
he eats ass like he was made for it, growling into you, spit dripping down his chest as he keeps your legs propped up on his shoulders, your thighs held in place with one arm. you're gasping through your moans and joel is drawing circles around your hole now, popping a finger into his mouth, and tentatively pressing it into the tight ring of muscle. it's fucking animalistic and you don't think anything could possibly make this better, until you notice the moans coming from tommy and the wet sounds of him furiously fisting his cock.
you're already fucked out from your first orgasms that you're practically boneless and limp, totally relaxed in a way you didn't often get. it made the feeling of joel fucking his fingers into you more glorious, building you up in a way you're not used to.
he makes quick (but thorough) work of opening you up, till he's got three fingers in your asshole and tommy's telling you how beautiful you look through his own choked moans, and you think you might lose your mind as you pant and grind and whine and joel isn't saying anything because his mouth is far too busy.
he pulls back and takes a good look at you. with someone else you might feel uncomfortably exposed but instead, you see hunger and desire in the brothers' and you know this is affecting them at least as much as it is you.
"i think we've got ya ready," joel hums, and he turns to look at his brother, "wanna check?" he asks, and tommy stands up and walks over.
you know you feel loose and ready, but the simple act of tommy popping a finger into your mouth to get it wet and then tracing it around your asshole, examining the preparation, drives you insane.
"i think she'll take it good for us," he grins and your heart flutters, "good girl," he says to you.
"you ready for us?" joel asks, and you nod.
"fuck me," you tell them.
joel lowers you down from his shoulders and tommy lays down on the bed before beckoning you.
"giddy up, cowgirl," he says with a wink, and you roll your eyes but take your cue.
you crawl up the bed, straddling his legs and then hovering over his cock which he's holding aloft.
"you good, baby?" he asks softly, and it's incredibly sweet in a way that makes you want to eat him up alive and also get fucked within an inch of your life by him.
"fuckin great," you tell him, and you pull him into a deep kiss before relaxing yourself over his cock, letting the head press into your pussy and sinking down onto it.
"jesus christ," he chokes out, and he sounds so desperate you can't help but fucking down on him, your ass slapping as you, move, his cock pressing so fucking deep into you and then you feel joel approach you from behind his hands gently running over your asscheeks and you know he's feeling the way your flesh bounces as you get off on his brother's cock. then, his hands are off of you, you hear the squirt of a lube bottle, and suddenly joel's thick lubed tip is pressing against you.
you try to thrust backwards towards it, but almost pull off tommy's cock fully, and it's like you're trying to ride both ends of a dick seesaw.
joel notices your frustration, laughing as you writhe.
"patience," he says, and delivers a sharp smack to your ass that thrusts you deeper onto tommy's cock. then, you can feel joel pressing into you, inch by inch.
once his cock head is fully sheathed in your tight ass, you take a moment to breathe before you start to find a rhythm that'll get all of you off at the same time. it takes a moment, and a few adjustments by all three of you, but before you know it, you can feel tommy brushing against your cervix and joel fully fucking into your asshole, practically rearranging your guts. with each rough thrust, they're fucking into you as one.
you're all moaning, gasping for breath. the slapping of skin against skin is delicious, and you're certain joel's balls are smacking against tommy's and you're not sure if it's weird or the hottest thing you've ever experienced.
you feel so full, you feel so fucking full it's perfect, it's delicious, you wanna be split open like this for the rest of time, want to feel two fat cocks using your holes for their pleasure, for your pleasure, because it all just feels so fucking good.
"fuck," tommy says, and it's the first thing any of you have been able to vocalise for a minute, "i'm gonna-"
"come in me," you tell him, cutting him off and he shudders.
that's all he needed before it hits him and he lets out a deep groan and unloads deep into you. it sets off a chain reaction. you come next, clenching around tommy's cock and exploding with a sob, your entire body shaking uncontrollably, and that tips joel over the edge, too as you whine at him, "come in my ass, joel-" and then he makes a strangled noise and you feel his balls tighten and hips stutter and he's unloading in you, pulse after pulse of thick come.
you lay there, tommy beneath you and joel on top of you, their cocks still twitching inside of you. gently, you tap joel's hip and he grunts and rolls over, pulling out of you. you gingerly pull yourself off of tommy, and then immediately collapse between the two of them.
"well, shit," you say, so totally blissed out you're floating on a whole other level.
"jesus christ," tommy says, and then joel starts laughing and it's the best thing you've ever heard.
"you doin' alright, darlin?" joel asks, "we take good care o' ya?"
you nod, consumed with so much euphoria you can't use your words properly.
"good- good joel," you say, "good tommy," you pat them each on the thighs and joel snorts.
tommy pops off the bed for a moment and rummages around in the other room before coming back to ask, "need a hit?"
you nod and he places the joint between your lips and sparks it. you take a deep inhale and slow blink as you sit yourself up and look at both of them.
"let's clean ya up, darlin," joel says, and, as it turns out, tommy brought a washcloth as well as weed. and he had my priorities straight you think.
"if you want me out of your house," you tell them, "you'd better tell me now so i can call a cab. otherwise, i'm gonna pass out here in the next twelve seconds."
"i won't be here in the morning", joel tells you, "got an early shift, but as i recall, tommy's specialty is box pancakes and they sometimes turn out edible."
tommy playfully slaps at his brother, and then kisses your cheek. joel kisses your cheek, too. tommy cleans you up a little, and you fall contentedly asleep between these two beautiful men.
the last thing you think before you drift off is fuck that promotion, it's not such a bad day after all.
#tommy miller x reader#tommy miller x you#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#tlou fanfiction#tommy miller#joel miller#joel miller fanfiction#tommy miller fanfiction#tommy x joel x reader#tlou fic#tommy miller smut#joel miller smut
420 notes
·
View notes
Note
Literally anything abt Kuai Liang I'm begging you
on mobile but bear with me:
SFW:
- he's a sweetheart. yes he's very duty driven, but that doesn't mean he won't take time out of his schedule to visit you or check in with you
- absolutely loves to cook for you. i think he's a great cook, the best out of the brothers, and he takes great pride in his skills. so yeah, he's gonna wanna show off a little bit
- big cuddler. he's a walking furnace, hello. loves wrapping his big ass arms around you and holding you close at night, plus it gives him the comfort of protecting you.
- big on acts of service as a way to show his love. like making you dinner, he'll do other things for you, like helping with chores or running errands for you. anything to lessen your load
- loves it when you trace his tattoo or play with his hair. when he lets his hair down at the end of the day, he now all but expects you to run your fingers through it as he lays his head in your lap. helps him decompress after a long day
- big on forehead kisses. means he gets to wrap and arm around your waist and hold you close while pressing his lips to your skin.
NSFW:
- all time pussy eating champion. his absolute favorite thing to do. he would do it 24/7 if possible. he gets your fingers in his hair and he gets to make you feel good. it's a win win
- loves missionary position. he loves holding your hands and MAKING. EYE. CONTACT. his thrusts are slow and meaningful, and of course he'll steal a kiss or two or twelve
- big on hickeys. he loves marking your chest, only where his eyes can see. he loves knowing those are under your clothes and that you see them, too
- loves your thighs. he loves gripping them, massaging them, biting them. he just can't get enough of them
- thinks it's incredibly hot when you ride him. he loves watching you bounce on him, your head tilted back and your hair just wild. getting to see your face change with every stroke brings him so much joy
- when you give him a blowjob, he likes making you as comfortable as possible. no hardwood floors for your knees, he'll keep your comfort arms his top priority no matter what
219 notes
·
View notes
Note
MAKING OUT WITH THE MAIN 4 💏
I’ve done making out w/ Butters, Kenny and Kyle so I’ll just be doing Stan and Cartman!!
Making out w/ Stan and Cartman
Stan
• He thinks he knows what he’s doing but believe me babe, he doesn’t. You have to teach that poor poor man and pray that Randy doesn’t walk in and make everything awkwarder than it is (he most probs does regardless because he has no sense of personal space)
• It’s like training a dog because you kinda have to train him to not do that throwing up thing he has a habit of. Good luck with that hun, you’ll need it
• Pull him in by the belt loops, he’ll absolutely melt. Stan’s the type to religiously wear jeans so making him melt literally anywhere is just that much easier
• He’s a very physical person in general, don’t be surprised if he intertwines your fingers when y’all make out. The moment you cup/stroke his cheek when y’all do, he’s practically wrapped around your finger
• For some reason, Stan’s the type to be playing music when y’all make out. Scratch that, he’s the type to be playing music whenever he’s with you regardless.. it just so happens he has a make out playlist for you guys because he just chronically listens to it
• Sooooo stiff the first few times it’s almost concerning, like does he even wanna make out rn?! He does!! Poor Stan just doesn’t wanna feel creepy if he moves his hands literally anywhere besides your waist
• Obvi he gets over it.. after a long time, a really really long fucking time. But anyways, his fav place to have his hands is your cheeks and maybe sometimes they find their hand in your hair. It’s so soft compared to his greasy ass hair like omg
• Stan kisses really softly and I take no criticism on that. Well soft and really awkwardly, he really only ever kissed Wendy before and she wasn’t one to be all too physical like he was
• He has really chapped lips because he literally always forgets to put on chapstick despite always having some in his pocket. I’m fully convinced it got gross because he left it in his jean pockets when they eventually got washed and kept them there for the next 4 fucking washes
• He’s a solid 6/10 on a kissing scale, just teach the poor man… PLEASE!!!!!
Cartman
• Honestly the type to let you sit on his lap, and he will NOT let you get up. He’ll probably say you’re heavy and you’re suffocating him but that grip he has on your thighs says otherwise
• As ALWAYS he uses his weight as an advantage. Sometimes when the 2 of you are laying down he’ll drop himself on top of you so he can kiss you as much as he wants because he’s mean like that
• Cartman is genuinely the type to make you put on a bunch of chapstick before he lets you make out with him. Soft lips, super rough kisses. I don’t make the rules and no I will not be taking any questions
• ^^ Has to be flavored chapstick too, like those dumb mtn dew ones
• Don’t ask why, but he’s actually a good kisser and it’s totally definitely ABSOLUTELY not because he has practice kissing the mirror and a Justin Timberlake cardboard cut out.. totally not. THE CUT OUT IN HIS CLOSET IS JUST A COINCIDENCE HE SWEARS
• For the love of god don’t make out in his room. Much like Randy, Liane doesn’t have much of a sense of personal space either. Not to mention the other plushies he’s collected over the years. Like yeah Clyde frog and the others aren’t there but eventually he probs gets more and they just stare at y’all
• Perfume drives him nuts, especially those sweeter smelling ones. Hands trembling a bit and everything, he definitely makes it a point to either be gripping some part of you or have his hands behind your back so it’s not noticeable
• Think it’s obvious by now but his fav place to have his hands is your thighs, he’s definitely leaving marks too. Honestly kinda the type to pinch them and laugh when you whine about it
• It’s always super obvious when y’all make out because not only is he always bragging about it, he PURPOSELY leaves you a mess after. I’m talking makeup smudged and marks all over you. Cartman so actually has no fucking chill. Absolutely always can and WILL go into gruesome detail about how you guys make out. He’s in it to make Kyle gag and Kenny drool.
• Good 8/10 on the kissing scale. He gets points knocked off because he can be really mean and super embarrassing. Stupidly good kisser tho
#h harleybaby needs help#harley won’t shut her mouth#harley’s anons <33#south park x reader#south park x reader headcanons#south park x y/n#eric cartman x reader#cartman x reader#cartman x y/n#eric cartman x reader headcanons#Cartman x you#eric cartman x you#stan marsh x you#stan x you#stan x reader#stan marsh x reader#Stan marsh x y/n#Stan marsh x reader headcanons#harley’s requests!
193 notes
·
View notes
Text
Wrists and Ropes | Dom! Simon “Ghost” Riley x Sub! Top Male Reader | Smut
Minors/Fem DNI
Warnings; Rimming, face sitting, bondage, rope burn (ouchy), cowgirl position, sweet aftercare (albeit short), service top/power bottom, anal sex, creampie, nipple play (r receiving)
Request; "Could you write a Dom Bottom Ghost x Sub Top Male Reader where Ghost ties reader to the bed (consensually ofc). Nipple play, Ghost sitting on readers face, Ghost riding reader, and eventual sweet aftercare"
A/N; first time i posted this i forgot to feckin change it back to y/n so it was an oc insert im sorry. literally bright red as i'm writing this i'm so embarrassed. ANYWAY i hope you enjoy 😭 @j-hauke i interupted your reading im sorry
1.6k words
“Stop pulling at them, you’ll cut your wrists,” Ghost scolded, grabbing Y/N’s jaw with one hand and tilting it to look up at him. He was sitting on Y/N’s stomach in his boxers, towering over him with his bulky physique, and Y/N had his hands tied to the headboard, with the rope digging into his skin when he would pull at it.
“Please, Simon. You’ve been teasing me all night. I wanna hold you,” He whimpered, leaning into Ghost’s hand.
“No,” He responded, slapping his cheek lightly before pushing his head back against the pillows. Y/N huffed, but he didn’t pull on his restraints this time. Ghost hummed and leaned down, pecking Y/N’s lips before climbing off him.
“Wait, where are you going?” Y/N asked, trying to sit up to see what he was doing but ultimately flopping back on the mattress.
“Don’t worry, I’m not goin’ anywhere,” He responded, pulling off his boxers and tossing them to the floor before crawling back into bed and straddling Y/N’s upper chest with his backside facing the H/C. “This fine?”
“Uh-huh,” He responded immediately, his eyes darting over Ghost’s back as if trying to find the right place to look.
“Good,” Ghost said before he lowered himself onto Y/N’s face. His eyes fluttered closed as he stuck out his tongue and ran it along Ghost’s entrance before pushing inside, grunting softly at the heat enveloping his tongue. Ghost placed his hands on his pecs and squeezed, moulding them in his hands while he ground back on Y/N’s tongue.
He took in a deep breath and shakily exhaled, rocking his ass onto Y/N’s face. Y/N whined and pulled at his restraints, burying his tongue deeper into Ghost before pulling out and running it along the rim.
Ghost reached one hand back to grab at Y/N’s hair, burying his fingers in it and pulling him against him harder. Y/N moaned at the pressure on his scalp and looked up at Ghost’s broad, muscular back. His head was hung forward as he grunted, occasional soft moans slipping past his lips. Y/N pulled at his restraints again, desperate to have the meat of Ghost’s ass in his palms. He wanted to spread him open and fuck him deep. His cock twitched at the thought, hard and leaking pre cum against his stomach.
“Fuck, that’s it,” Ghost groaned, one hand pressed flat against Y/N’s chest to support his weight.
Y/N’s wrists were rubbed raw at this point, the sting of rope burn irritating his skin, but he ignored it and continued working Ghost open. He ground back on Y/N, his thighs flexing as he adjusted to wrap the hand previously holding himself up around his cock. He stroked it slowly, squeezing and twisting as he went. The lack of lube left a slightly uncomfortable feeling, but it was more so good than bad. Y/N moaned as Ghost tightened up around him, constricting his tongue. He was getting close.
With shaky legs, Ghost pulled himself off of Y/N’s face, letting go of his hair in the process. Y/N moaned at the sight of Ghost’s hole, wet with spit. He crawled off of Y/N and moved to straddle his hips, Y/N working on catching his breath in the meantime. He gazed up at Ghost hazily, his eyes droopy and lower face wet.
Ghost reached for the bottle of lube that had been tossed on the bed for later use and popped it open, grabbing Y/N’s cock and pouring a generous amount onto it. Y/N moaned as he stroked it a few times to evenly spread the liquid before adjusting to press the tip against his entrance. Ghost tossed the bottle on the bed and slowly lowered himself onto Y/N’s cock, his eyes glued to the man beneath him as he moaned. He paused when the head was inside before taking a few more inches inside.
“Hey,” He said, reaching up and grabbing Y/N’s jaw in his large hands. “Stop pulling at the ropes.”
Y/N moaned in response, leaning forward in search of a kiss. Ghost huffed a breathy laugh at how desperate Y/N was and sank further onto him, bottoming out with a little moan. Y/N rutted his hips up, Ghost grunting at the sudden movement.
He leaned down to kiss Y/N as he began to rock his hips back and forth, lifting himself before dropping down again. He pressed their lips together and Y/N hummed with contentment, tilting his head and opening his mouth to allow Ghost’s tongue into his mouth. Ghost’s hands made their way up to Y/N’s chest, squeezing the flesh before thumbing at his nipples and grinning against his lips when he let out a breathy moan.
Ghost pinched Y/N’s nipples and pulled off his lips, trailing kisses down his jaw before sucking a hickey on his neck.
“Don’t fuck with my nipples,” Y/N whined, rutting his hips up to meet Ghost’s ass. He twisted the nubs in response, and Y/N let out a moan at the sudden feeling.
“You seem to like it,” Ghost muttered, his voice raspy and deep in Y/N’s ear causing him to shiver involuntarily and buck his hips up. Ghost bit his ear softly and pulled it between his teeth, pinching Y/N’s nipples and earning a breathy moan in response.
“Fuck…” He whimpered, rolling his hips up into Ghost’s ass and pulling at the ropes around his wrists again.
Ghost moaned against his ear and dropped his head into the crook of his neck. He squeezed Y/N’s pecs and lifted his head to kiss him again, humming with contentment as their lips moved in sync slowly. Ghost let one of his hands leave Y/N’s chest, instead opting to grab his cock and stroke it quickly. Y/N looked up at him fondly, his eyebrows creasing with the want to grab his pale flesh and fuck him hard, but Ghost was moving slowly, prioritising himself over Y/N. Not that he minded. Y/N loved that Ghost would put himself first, and so he prioritised it, too.
“You’re only going to cum when I say so, got it?” Ghost asked, voice low and raspy. Y/N whimpered and nodded, letting his hands go limp. “Good boy.”
Ghost’s cock was leaking pre cum onto Y/N’s lower stomach in a large quantity, his hips twitching forward into his hand while he started to fuck himself harder on Y/N’s cock.
“Fuck, you’re so big,” He moaned. His hand was pressed flat on Y/N’s diaphragm to steady himself as his thighs shook with pleasure. Y/N moaned at the praise, bucking his hips up. “You fill me up so good, love.”
“Simon, fuck,” Y/N whimpered.
“Yeah, that’s it. Keep moaning my name like that.” Y/N groaned and looked up at Ghost. He was unbearably close to cumming.
“Simon, I wanna cum, fuck!” He moaned, letting his head fall back on the pillow beneath him. Ghost looked at him and scoffed.
“You want to cum?” He mocked, tilting his head at Y/N who nodded hopefully. “Make me cum first.”
Huffing, Y/N adjusted himself to be able to thrust up into Ghost easier, the latter letting out a guttural moan at the sudden deep and hard thrusts into his tight hole. His palms pressed against Y/N’s stomach as he struggled to keep himself from falling forward. His cock hit his prostate just right, and he could feel heat pooling in the pit of his stomach from it. The wet slapping sound of Y/N’s balls against his ass only turned him on more, gasping and shaking as he neared orgasm.
“Fuckin’ christ,” He rasped, head hanging forward.
A single strand of saliva spilt past his lips, dripping onto Y/N’s chest as he came. He croaked out a moan as his cum spurt out of his cock, thick ropes of white staining Y/N’s S/C skin. Y/N kept fucking him through it, albeit slower so as to not overstimulate him, but his cock ached with want for release.
“Please,” Y/N whimpered, gazing at Ghost longingly. He nodded at him and Y/N immediately came inside of him with a loud moan, rolling his hips up against Ghost’s ass as he filled him with his semen.
“You did well for me, love,” Ghost praised, reaching to cup Y/N’s cheek as he leaned down to kiss him softly. “So good.”
He slowly lifted himself off Y/N’s cock and moved to sit on his stomach, reaching up to undo the bindings. He frowned at the rope burn on his wrists.
“I told you not to pull at them.”
“Sorry,” Y/N murmured, eyes sleepy while Ghost rubbed his wrists tenderly.
He climbed off of him and disappeared into the bathroom. He quickly wiped himself clean with a rag and painstakingly scooped the cum out of his ass, tossing the rag onto the floor when he finished and reaching for another. He grabbed a small tube of Bacteomycine before returning to Y/N, wiping him clean before smearing a generous amount of the antibiotic onto his wrists.
“That feel better?” He asked. Y/N hummed and reached out to him, Ghost complying and laying beside Y/N while he wrapped his arms around his waist.
He was floating between sleep and consciousness, and muttered “My nipples hurt,” before passing out. Ghost snickered and placed a hand on Y/N’s cheek, kissing him quickly before sleeping himself.
#x male reader#cod x male reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x male reader#ghost x top male reader#bottom ghost#ghost x male reader#ghost x reader#top male reader#bottom cod#mw2 x reader#mw2 x male reader#service top reader#power bottom ghost#i'll never live down the shame of posting this with my of in it first
617 notes
·
View notes
Text
look down on me like that - 9 (explicit)
genre: slow burn enemies to lovers hatefucking coworkers au, smut, angst
pairing: yoongi x reader
summary: your asshole coworker min yoongi has made it his personal mission to ruin your life.
word count: 16k 🙈
contains: explicit sexual content 👀 literally jumps immediately into it (well.... you'll see 🤭) so buckle up!!! also features: hotel drama, reader being v dumb in classic reader fashion but she gets there, a whole lotta tension and angst and misplaced anger, some new friends!!! and yes they're 3 idols see if you can figure out who 🤪, erotic bed sharing and handholding lmfao, probably the most drinking that has happened in a chapter yet (which is saying a lot honestly), of course the GRAMMY RESULTS.... oh yeah and yoongi in glasses, yoongi in a suit, yoongi playing piano, yoongi almost getting in a fight, yoongi rapping, yoongi WEARING CAT EARS (yes these are all warnings!!!!!! 😩) - ok and here are ur smut specific warnings: semi-public sex (mile high club anyone ✈️), cunnilingus, fingering, sex dreams, nipple play, dirty talk, reader has a voice kink 🥴, clit stim, unprotected sex AGAIN 💀, she squirts again don't @ me lmao, aaaaand some lovely mouth/throat fuckin 🫡
A/N: i feel like i have nothing to say that isn't just overwhelming gratitude to you all for being here 🥺 so i'll keep it short!!! sit back and get comfy bc this one's a lot, here we go y'all..... you ready?? 💜
A/N 2: as of 5/27, this chapter has been updated to remove the instances of anti-asian discrimination. i want to expressly state how sorry i am to those who were hurt or otherwise upset by the original content. please know that i mean it when i say i am fully committed to listening and doing better moving forward. 💜
an eternal thank you to @haliiimede and @monimonimoon for their help betaing!!!
read on AO3!
chapter eight | masterlist | chapter ten
~*~
You don’t know how you let Yoongi talk you into this.
You honestly can’t remember, at least not right now, not with your ass perched on the edge of the sink counter and his hands making quick work to tug your sweats and underwear down and off, one ankle at a time.
The place is cleaner than any airplane bathroom you’ve ever been in, and certainly much less cramped. First class really spares no expense, you’ve learned. It’s an upgrade Yoongi made for both of you at the check-in counter unprompted, his only explanation mumbled into the rim of his iced Americano once you’d settled at a table in the fancy lounge: “Economy seats fuck my back up, and I figured if I left you behind you’d push me into LA traffic at your first opportunity.”
You might still do it, if only because he’s managed to convince you to do this again. Weren’t you supposed to be mad at him?
“I’m starting to think you have a bathroom fetish,” you murmur, not quite managing to keep your voice steady. Your fingers rake through Yoongi’s long dark hair as he situates himself properly on his knees between your legs, his hands pressing your thighs to spread you wider.
“Are you complaining?” he grunts back, and you lose the ability to form a coherent response as he leans in and traces his tongue up your folds.
You nearly bang your head on the mirror with the way your spine instinctively arches at the feeling, your hips tilting up for as much of his mouth as you can get.
“Shit,” you hiss as he starts to fuck the muscle of his tongue into your entrance, his thumb swiping up through your wetness before settling into rough circles over your clit. “Why are you so fucking good at this?”
Once he’s thoroughly tasted you, Yoongi quickly replaces his tongue with his fingers, flexing against your front wall at a brutal pace, like he’s realized you can’t take too long in here. His lips close around your clit as his tongue laps over it in thick strokes, and your hips circle hungrily, grinding on him.
“That’s it,” he pulls off just enough to gasp. “Ride my face. Wanna make you come so I can fuck this tight little pussy.” Just the rough tone of his voice is nearly enough to send you over the edge.
When his lips and tongue return to your cunt, you don’t hold back.
You fist the hand tangled in his hair, your other palm smacking flat to the counter for balance as you throw a leg over his shoulder, and you swear you can hear him laughing while you press your heel into his back to pull him even closer. His mouth is warm and wet and divine, the way he licks and sucks at your throbbing clit overwhelming. He strokes his fingers deftly into your g-spot, working up enough arousal that it’s started to run down the crux of your thighs. You roll your hips again and gasp at the way his tongue drags just right over you.
“Oh god, Yoongi,” you groan, squeezing your eyes shut, too lost in it to worry about being quiet. You can feel it as he keeps his tongue laid out flat for you to use as you please. Everything in you pulls tight as you rut yourself against his face in time to the building pressure worked up in your core by his unrelenting fingers. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna—”
The plane dips sharply, and you lurch upright with a gasp as your eyes snap open. There’s a few more seconds of shuddering bumps, and then you seem to find clear skies again.
Your heart hammers in your chest as you sit back and try to steady your breathing, the world slowly coming into focus: the TV screen in front of you, your purse tucked into the shelf beneath it, beige privacy walls surrounding you on all sides.
Fuck. You lean forward, letting your head drop between your knees as reality sinks in. You’re not in the bathroom. You’re in your stupid first-class seat. It was a dream. A fucking airplane sex dream.
Panic carves through you like a knife as questions bubble up in your mind: What if you said something in your sleep? Did Yoongi hear you? Is he sitting on the other side of the wall with that fucking smirk on his face, endlessly smug in the knowledge that he haunts you even in your dreams?
Immediately convinced that he is, you can’t help yourself. You press your hands flat to the divider between you and just barely lift out of your seat so you can peek over it.
But Yoongi looks entirely unchanged from the last time you saw him several hours earlier: he’s got his headphones on and is slouched over his laptop, frowning down at the screen, thoroughly engrossed in work.
Just as you’re breathing a sigh of relief, he glances up, and your eyes widen.
“Can I help you?” he grunts, not even bothering to pull his headphones off. You don’t think it’s a double entendre, but you don’t want to entertain him long enough to find out.
“No,” you snap, and then you slump back down to the safety of your seat, slamming the controller on the wall until you’re fully horizontal. You tug the provided headphones over your ears, hoping they might block out your racing thoughts as you desperately try to ignore the dull ache between your legs.
~*~
Getting any more sleep proves to be an impossible task, your mind too keyed up at the possibility of another airplane bathroom dream. By the time you make it through the rest of the flight, and customs, and the car ride to your hotel, you’re nearly delirious with exhaustion, and your body is thoroughly confused about what fucking time it is, though your phone says it’s apparently the middle of the night.
Your brain feels like it’s been in a blender, your reaction time so slowed that, standing at the hotel check-in counter, it takes you several seconds to process the words leaving the front desk agent’s mouth.
She must be able to read the dumbfounded look on your face, because she repeats herself. “King bed executive suite for three nights?”
“Um, no,” you finally manage to stammer, and though he makes no discernible noise of reaction, it’s like you can feel Yoongi smirking over your shoulder. “No, we need— I booked a room with two queens.”
The agent purses her lips slightly, then shakes her head as she stares down at her computer. “Mm, I’m seeing in the system that we have you down for one king.”
Your exhaustion steamrolls over whatever professionality you might normally have while conducting a business transaction. “I don’t care what your fucking system says, it’s wrong. That’s not what I booked.” Scrolling through your phone for a few seconds, you manage to dig up the email, and you’re almost more compelled to show it to Yoongi, just to make sure he’s well aware— you did not fuck this up.
“See, two queens,” you reiterate helplessly as you extend the receipt on your phone toward the agent.
She tuts once, her eyes barely glancing over at your phone before returning to her computer screen. “Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem like we have any availability to switch you. Given the Grammys are on Sunday, this is quite a busy weekend for us.”
You set your phone on the counter and try to keep your breathing steady, to remain calm despite the overwhelmed panic starting to rise in your chest.
“About that,” you say, doing your best to speak in an even voice. “We wanted to keep a low profile, but my… associate here is actually a nominee. For Song of the Year?” You hate that it comes out more like a question as your gaze flits to Yoongi for the briefest of seconds, then back to the front desk agent. “So, really, if there’s anything at all you could do, we would appreciate it.”
There’s a pause as she regards you for a moment, her lips pressed into a tight smile, and then she speaks again. “I really do apologize, but a mistake on your part does not constitute an emergency on ours. No matter who the accommodation is for.”
It takes a second for your jetlag-addled brain to process the words, and their direct contrast to the forced sunny expression on her face. If you were in a better state of mind you might be able to take a breath, state your case more calmly, or figure out some other alternative, but instead all you can manage is a knee jerk reaction.
Because you can’t be in a room with Min Yoongi and only one bed.
“Are you fucking kiddin—”
“Hey.”
A hand pressed to your bicep nearly makes you jump out of your skin. Despite every cell in your body urging you to lunge over the counter, you don’t fight it when Yoongi pulls you back a few paces, giving enough room for him to take your place at the counter.
“It’s fine,” he mutters over his shoulder.
It feels like your heart is beating a mile a minute, enough that you can hardly keep up with the soft apology he concedes to the agent. She hands him the room keys without another word, that same fake smile still plastered over her face. With one last nasty look over your shoulder, you follow Yoongi toward the elevators, dragging your suitcase along behind you.
Practically seething, you can barely manage to wait until the doors slide shut before you pounce.
“Look, I don’t know what you think is about to happen here, but I did not fucking book a single bed room.”
“It’s fine,” he sighs wearily, eyes fixed on the overhead number as it counts up to your floor. “I just want to sleep. Whatever that was about to turn into wasn’t worth the trouble.”
The doors slide open with a soft chime, and you storm after him down the hall to your room as he continues, pressing the key to the reader and pushing the door open. “Besides, I've stayed here before, and I know these suites have couches.” He holds the door and gestures for you to enter first, and you do.
He's not wrong: there’s a small living room area with a sofa, a desk, and a television mounted into a wall that effectively separates it from the bedroom on the other side, though there isn’t actually a door. The bathroom is immediately to your left as you step inside.
“So,” Yoongi says simply as the door shuts behind him. “I'll take the couch. All good.”
Of fucking course.
The rational part of your brain knows that he has done nothing to upset you. He's been quiet and polite on your long day of travel, and is treating you simply as if you were business acquaintances. It all makes perfect sense, given that you told him your night at his apartment couldn’t mean anything. He's done everything you’ve asked of him, really.
And yet it’s all of it: your stupid sex dream, the lingering bad taste of your encounter with the hotel agent, and the fact that Yoongi can’t seem to even fathom the idea of sharing a bed with you, not here and certainly not at his apartment. Everything has you simmering with a sudden vicious, unreasonable anger.
“Do whatever you want,” you snap as Yoongi sets his suitcase down on the floor of the living room. “I don’t give a shit.”
The rage burns like acid in your gut as you move through your night routine in the bathroom, and it’s only worsened by the knowledge that your alarm will be going off in just a few hours, and you’ll have to drag yourself through a long day of press and prep for Sunday. And that Yoongi will be there, through all of it, just like he’s on the other side of the door right now, inescapably and overwhelmingly present.
It doesn’t make sense to you how he can somehow manage to be too distant and too close at the same time. As you spit toothpaste into the sink, you wonder why the fuck you ever agreed to go on this stupid trip.
~*~
You don’t think you manage more than ten minutes of sleep the whole night. Despite exhaustion weighing heavy in your limbs, you toss and turn and kick at the blankets, too frustrated by all the confusing feelings churned up inside of you to be able to slip into any kind of real rest.
When you glance at the clock for the millionth time, it’s now only thirty minutes until your alarm is due to go off. With a sigh, you decide to give up.
Your mind is already racing with the schedule for the day, and you go over it a million times in your head as you shower and dress and apply your makeup. When you emerge from the bathroom already entirely put together, Yoongi is on the couch blinking blearily at his phone, clearly having just woken up.
“The car will be here at seven,” you call over your shoulder without a second glance back at him.
He grunts his acknowledgement, and after a few moments you hear the sound of the bathroom door sliding shut again. You dig your work laptop out of your purse to double-check everything, and before you know it you’re sucked into confirming specifics and answering emails, and you completely lose track of time.
The sound of Yoongi clearing his throat snaps you back to reality, and you shut your laptop as you glance up to find him standing in the threshold of the bedroom. He’s dressed nicely for his many interviews, in a sky-blue button-down, and you have to blink twice as you take in his appearance.
“You wear glasses?”
The warm lamplight of the bedroom reflects off his lenses as he shrugs. “I don’t like to. But I forgot my contacts.”
“We can stop for some on the way to your fitting,” you answer, adding it to your mental to-do list. The reminder of your booked itinerary is enough to get you to your feet, one arm wrapped around your laptop to press it close to your chest. Trying to remember what else you need to do to get ready proves impossible as Yoongi steps closer, and then you hear him laugh softly under his breath.
“Wow, glasses? Really?”
“What?”
“You have that look on your face,” he says simply, and you can feel an embarrassed heat creep up your neck. You hate that after all this time, he can still read you like a book.
You swallow hard. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He continues to close the distance between you, and you take a reflexive step backward, only for your thighs to bump against the mattress behind you. “Would’ve worn these more often if I knew they’d get you all flustered.”
You attempt to argue that you’re not flustered, but the words die on your tongue with the realization of how close Yoongi is to you now. His eyes are fixed pointedly on your mouth. “I—” you try again, your voice breaking slightly. “I’m not—”
The sharp buzz of your phone vibrating on the nightstand makes both of you start, and it’s like you can think clearly again when Yoongi steps back to give you room to grab it. You thumb open the text with one hand as you shove your laptop into your purse with the other. “They’re downstairs.”
Yoongi doesn’t say anything else to you until you’re in the car, crawling through Los Angeles traffic. “Remind me what all we’re doing today?”
You stare out the windshield, not wanting to meet his gaze as you recount the schedule that’s permanently seared into your brain. “You have press interviews in Studio City all morning until one. We’ll pick up lunch— and we can grab you some contacts, too— and then you have a fitting in Beverly Hills at two. After that, your boss wants us to tour the office out here and take a few meetings with the team, so that’ll be the rest of the afternoon. And then I guess whenever we’re done with that, the label execs want to take us to dinner after.”
He’s silent for long enough that you’re forced to glance over at him, wondering if he was even paying attention. There’s a small smile on his face, but it doesn’t quite read as smug. You don’t know what to make of it.
“Huh,” Yoongi finally remarks.
“What?” you snap in response, probably a little harsher than he deserves, but you haven’t had coffee yet.
“Nothing,” he says innocently. “It’s just funny, compared to when you first started.” He crosses his arms over his chest, shifting back slightly in his seat. “I remember when you couldn’t even use Outlook.”
You narrow your eyes in his direction. “I guess people change.”
“Guess so.”
The day passes in a hectic blur, and though ostensibly all of your scheduled engagements are meant to be about Yoongi, you find yourself just as busy as he is, if not moreso.
His press interviews run long because of course they do, and you’re forced to drop him at his fitting while you run out to pick up lunch and contacts— and most importantly, more coffee, which you desperately require to survive the rest of the day.
You’re admittedly thankful for the extra tasks. Even if you do feel dead on your feet, it’s still preferable to sitting around and watching Yoongi try on a suit. You can easily recall firsthand how deadly the image is, and putting off that suffering until the real thing tomorrow is perfectly fine, as far as you’re concerned.
The coffee gives you just enough of a caffeine boost to power through your afternoon meetings, reviewing branding strategies and opportunities for collaborative promotions with the label’s overseas team. Your heart sinks a little when you go through the marketing summary slides prepared by Jungkook, not a single detail out of place, and you try to shove thoughts of him to the back of your mind so you can focus on the work.
At dinner, it’s all you can do to not fall asleep over your extremely overpriced sashimi. Yoongi’s been pulled away to the far side of the table for what you can only assume are deeply boring conversations with the Los Angeles production team. Thankfully, your side is a bit more lively.
“Matthew,” the A&R rep who you’re pretty sure introduced herself as Tiffany stage-whispers. You realize she’s speaking to the tall and ridiculously built guy seated next to you when her gaze flits up to him, and then she resumes poring over the extensive drink menu. “Can we get sake bombs?”
“Why are you asking me?” Matthew responds, and you look over to see his face scrunched up in confusion.
“You’re in finance! I need you to tell me that I can get white-girl wasted on the label’s dime tonight.”
He sighs for a moment, like he’s trying to think. “I don’t… actually know if we’re allowed to reimburse that.” Tiffany’s lower lip trembles, dangerously adorable, and he exhales as if he’s been defeated. “Fuck it. I’ll cover it out of pocket if we can’t.”
“God, I love you,” she breathes, chasing the comment with a throaty laugh and quickly flagging down a server to order. “Can we please do thr— Vernon, baby, how old are you?”
The intern seated next to her blinks slowly. “Twenty four?” You’re pretty sure those are his first words of the evening.
“Huh. Your skincare’s doing wonders,” Tiffany shakes her head disbelievingly. “Four sake bombs, please?”
They arrive in an instant, and Tiffany smiles proudly to herself as she balances her shot glass on a pair of chopsticks laid across the top of her beer. You follow Matthew and Vernon’s lead as they set their drinks up to mirror hers.
“To Matthew’s wallet,” Tiffany toasts solemnly. “The only thing bigger than his tits.”
As if in hearty agreement, Matthew bangs his fist against the table so hard it makes everyone in a five foot radius flinch, and all four of your shot glasses plummet into the awaiting beers beneath them.
“Kanpai, motherfuckers!” Tiffany cackles, and you throw your drinks back in perfect sync.
The rowdiness of your corner is too loud to be ignored, and your stomach twists slightly as you set your empty glass down only to catch Yoongi staring from across the table. When your eyes meet his, he quickly lowers his gaze and adjusts his glasses, his mouth pulling into a flat line.
You turn back to your new friends as Tiffany finishes her own drink. As if she just witnessed the silent exchange, she leans toward you.
“So,” she drops her voice a little lower, “What’s it like working with Suga?”
Doing your best to keep your face neutral, you inhale deeply, wondering where to begin, or what would even be workplace-appropriate to say. The jetlag makes your mind move that much slower. “It’s—”
“Oh my god,” she immediately interrupts you. “You’re sleeping with him.”
Vernon nearly spits the last swallow of his drink back out.
“Tiffany,” Matthew interjects, sounding exhausted, like this is a regular occurrence. “Don’t fucking say that to someone you just met.”
“I mean,” you concede, your lips loosened by the warm rush of alcohol. “She’s not wrong.”
Matthews eyes widen, and he purses his lips for a long pause before he finally speaks. “Shiiiiiit, okay. Alright then.”
You sigh, slumping to rest your cheek in your hand, so exhausted that you can barely stay upright. “I don’t know if ‘sleeping with’ is the right term. It’s just a… mistake that we’ve made. A few times. Several, I guess.”
“I bet he’s even richer than Matthew,” Tiffany says, awestruck, clearly more to herself than to you.
“If it’s a mistake, why do you keep making it?” Vernon asks bluntly.
“Damn, Vernon with the deep cut,” Matthew remarks, and you shake your head.
“I don’t know,” you murmur, your words running together slightly. “I’m just trying not to think about it, at least not while we’re on this stupid work trip.”
All three of them nod like they understand, and then Tiffany leans in again. “Let me guess: there’s only one bed in the hotel room.”
“Please ignore her.” Matthew sounds as tired as you feel.
“Yes!” you exclaim, your anger from the night before temporarily reigniting. “The hotel fucked our room up, and the lady wouldn’t fix it because she was a fucking bitch—”
“Naturally,” Vernon interjects.
“And even though we only have one bed, he chose to take the couch. Like, that’s where we’re at.”
“That’s sweet,” Tiffany murmurs, and you make a face.
“Is it?”
“He’s being respectful. I bet he doesn’t wanna make you feel uncomfortable, or like… pressured. ‘Cause sleeping with somebody is a world of difference from… sleeping with them, you know?”
You roll your eyes. “Or he wants to be as far away from me as possible, even while sleeping.”
“If I was the one nominated for a Grammy, I’d make you take the couch,” Vernon scoffs around a piece of edamame.
“Right?” Matthew chimes in. “Ain’t no way I’m getting good sleep on a hotel couch. Them things are like fuckin’ cement blocks.”
A yawn escapes you before you can manage to stifle it, and you press a hand to your mouth, suddenly overwhelmed from exhaustion as well as the conversation. You scoot your chair back from the table to stand and politely excuse yourself to the restroom.
“You gotta cool it with that shit, Tiff,” you hear Matthew mutter as you depart.
Your mind swims while you traverse the long back hallways of this bougie restaurant. It’s almost laughable now, but you really never thought to give Yoongi the benefit of the doubt for sleeping on the couch— not here, and not at his apartment.
You’re still so used to expecting the worst from him that you’ve just assumed the intention is laced into his every action. Even the nice things have felt like a cause for concern, like a reason to keep your guard up, small gestures meant to distract you so he can get the upper hand, somehow. It’s hard to shake the idea that he’s your enemy, even after everything that’s happened.
And yet you can’t help wondering if Tiffany is right. Is Yoongi really just being… respectful? And if so: what does he want? And how does he feel? You’re torn between wanting to know and hoping you never find out.
A voice saying your name drags you out of your thoughts. You turn back just shy of the restroom door, unable to stop another yawn from slipping out, and you bring a hand to your mouth to hide it. Your eyes widen as your brain works on a delay to process the familiar voice, then the sky-blue shirt and the dark framed glasses. It distantly occurs to you that Yoongi has you all alone in this fancy hallway.
You blink a few times, willing the weight of sleepiness out of your eyes, then finally respond with the first thing you can think of. “I’m not fucking you in the bathroom, Yoongi.”
He blinks right back at you, clearly not expecting that. “I… wasn’t asking you to.”
“What do you want then?” you snap, crossing your arms over your chest.
“I—” he sighs, and you can’t help but wonder if he suddenly regrets coming after you. “You’re tired.”
“Yes, because I barely fucking slept. And?”
You tell yourself that you’re just imagining the way his voice has softened slightly. “Dinner’s over. We don’t have to stay. They’ll get it.”
“I’m having fun,” you retort. “I made friends.”
“I saw,” he remarks, not quite able to hide his smirk.
“So please, don’t cut your boring producer conversation short on my behalf,” you continue dryly.
Yoongi rolls his eyes, to your surprise. “Yeah, it’s brutal. I’d much rather be sleeping.” He quirks an eyebrow. “Or doing sake bombs.”
The question rushes out before you can second guess if it’s a good idea to ask. “How did you sleep? On the couch?”
Yoongi shrugs, then rubs a hand at the back of his neck, making a face as if you’ve put him on the spot. “Like shit.”
You nod, your gaze dropping to the carpeted floor. “Well, I mean. Maybe it would make more sense if, uh—”
“’Scuse me—” a new voice causes your head to snap up again, and you take a step away from Yoongi as Tiffany slips between the two of you, moving quickly toward the women’s restroom.
“Sorry love, I have to break the seal!” she calls over her shoulder before the door slams shut.
The interruption is enough to make you swallow your suggestion, and Yoongi reaches into his pocket for his phone.
“I’ll call a car, because I’m tired,” he murmurs defensively. “You’re welcome to get your own later, if you want to stay out—”
“I don’t,” you say firmly. “It’s fine. Just tell me when the car’s here.” Before Yoongi can so much as respond, you shoulder the bathroom door open and fast-walk to the safety of a stall.
After breaking your own seal, you make your way out to a sink, and you’re a little taken aback to find Tiffany still there waiting for you. She’s hovering over the mirror, blotting at her forehead with a paper towel.
“I wanted to apologize if I came on too strong,” she says softly as you turn on the tap. “Matthew says my mind-reading abilities can be intimidating to people who don’t know me well.”
You can’t help but laugh. “It’s cool. You remind me of my best friend.”
“The highest honor there is,” she says with a knowing nod. When she turns to fully face you, shifting to rest her hip on the sink as you dry your hands, you have a feeling there’s more coming.
“So, can I be honest?”
“Go ahead,” you say, suddenly a little nervous.
“I know I just met both of you today, but— the way Suga was looking at you? Girl. He’s not taking the couch because he wants to.”
You smile politely at her reflection, and her eyes narrow. “I know you don’t believe me, and you don’t have to. Matthew doesn’t believe that he’s in love with me either, but we both have Leo Moons, so obviously we’re each waiting for the other person to cave first.” She shrugs, nonchalant. “Which is fine for us, but all I’m saying is, if you want something, there’s really nothing wrong with asking for it.”
The urge to shut her down is strong. It’s slightly unnerving to feel like a relative stranger is peering into your soul. “You make it sound easy,” you murmur with a dry laugh. “I don’t think bed-sharing is part of our… arrangement.”
Tiffany preens a little more in the mirror, deftly flipping her curtain of dark hair over one shoulder. “Maybe it’s not supposed to be, but trust me on this one. He won’t say no. And if he does, I owe you a sake bomb.”
A genuine smile blooms across your face, and it only widens when she holds up her pinky finger. You lock yours around it for a single shake. “Deal.”
Arm-in-arm with Tiffany, you return to your corner of the table, where she entertains you by bullying Matthew into buying another round of drinks while he groans about burning a hole in his pocket.
“If it helps,” you giggle, “I’m about to head out. So make it three instead of four.”
“Thank god,” Matthew breathes a sigh of relief. “This girl is so damn expensive.”
Tiffany pauses with a spoonful of matcha gelato— also ordered on Matthew’s dime— halfway to her mouth. “I literally have a Leo stellium, what the fuck do you expect?”
While they continue to bicker, your gaze floats down the table. You wonder if Tiffany’s mind-reading powers might be catching as your eyes land on Yoongi just in time for him to look up from his phone and meet your gaze. He nods his head once toward the entrance, and you nod back.
A shoulder bumps into yours, and you turn to see Tiffany subtly shoot you a thumbs-up. “Fighting!” she murmurs under her breath, and you laugh as you get to your feet and bid everyone goodnight.
Yoongi holds the door of the restaurant for you to exit first, then follows you into the large black car waiting for you on the curb.
The drive back to the hotel gives you just enough time to immediately talk yourself out of Tiffany’s suggestion. The thought of asking for what you want feels like a trap, like displaying weakness to the one person who could hit you hardest. Besides, what if she misread Yoongi entirely? She doesn’t know him at all, and has no idea of the way things are between you. It’s a terrible idea, you decide.
So you find yourself right where you were the night before, like a bad dream you can’t wake up from: face washed, teeth brushed, tossing and turning in a bed far too large for one person. You can feel your final thread of resistance snap clean in half as you angrily kick the blankets off, then get to your feet and storm into the living room.
Yoongi is still up, peering down at his phone screen on the couch, his glasses deposited atop the coffee table.
“You’re being stupid,” you huff, and he glances up, clearly not expecting the interruption.
“I am?”
“You’re going to the Grammys tomorrow,” you say, as if that will explain anything.
“So are you,” Yoongi counters.
“Well yeah, but nobody’s going to give a shit about me.”
“I’d argue that’s also true for me,” he murmurs dryly, then squints at you. “Sorry, why am I stupid?”
“Because you’re going to sleep terribly on this couch.”
Yoongi nods once. “Probably, yes.”
You sigh, because of course he’s going to drag this out of you. “And the bed is perfectly big enough for two people. We wouldn’t even be touching or anything. So…” Fuck, saying what you want is hard. “Can you just… stop being stupid?”
There’s a flash of recognition in his eyes, and you’re surprised when that trademark cocky smirk doesn’t spread across his face. If anything, he just seems hesitant as he slowly sits up. “You’re sure?”
You fold your arms across your chest, suddenly feeling exposed like this, standing in front of him in only your thin sleep clothes. “Please don’t make me say it again.”
The corner of Yoongi’s mouth just barely pulls up, so slight you could be imagining it. “I’ll be there in a sec.”
In the bedroom, you leave the lamp at the empty side of the bed switched on, then crawl back under the sheets on your side. Heat blooms in your face as you press your cheek to the cool pillowcase, purposefully facing out, then reach one arm up to turn off your own bedside lamp.
True to his word, a few minutes later you hear the unmistakable sound of Yoongi’s steps across the carpet, then feel the shift of the mattress as he slips into bed on his side. He fumbles on the nightstand with what must be his glasses and his phone, and then you hear the click of the light, and the room disappears into darkness.
There’s a rustle and a sigh as he makes himself comfortable, and you were right: the two of you can easily share the bed without touching, plenty of space on the mattress between you.
Even so, having him closer is somehow… better. Comforting. You try not to dwell too much on it.
Flipping over onto your back, you stare up at the infinite black of the ceiling above you, your eyes already starting to weigh heavy. You don’t know where the question comes from, or why you ask it.
“Are you nervous?”
When he answers, Yoongi sounds half-asleep, too. “About what?”
“The Grammys?”
“Oh.” There’s a stirring sound, and then he speaks, like he’s just remembered you can’t see him shrugging. “I don’t know. A little.”
The only reply you’re capable of is a soft hum, and now you really can’t keep your eyes open. You curl up on your side again, cheek smushing into the pillow, and your consciousness whirs up one last coherent thought before you fully slip under: What else would he be nervous about?
~*~
You wake up to the warm glow of morning beneath your eyelids, and when you blink them open, the room is lit soft, dappled in sunlight that has managed to sneak between the thick hotel curtains. It’s warm in this bed too, and comfortable, and you sigh quietly to yourself as you stir a little under the covers. With a stifled yawn, you move to turn onto your back, and it’s only when you meet a gentle resistance that you realize why you’re so warm.
Yoongi must just be waking up too, because you immediately feel his body start at the realization that he pulled you close at some point during the night: an arm thrown over your waist, his hips pressed flush against yours.
“Fuck,” he mutters, his voice low and rough with sleep. “Sorry.” As the mattress starts to shift behind you, you respond on pure physical instinct and close your hand around Yoongi’s wrist.
“Stay.” The word comes out hoarse, barely more than a whisper.
Yoongi’s response is a soft grunt, and a bolt of panic quickens your pulse. You’re suddenly worried he might not want to stay, that he might even laugh at you for thinking you could have it like this, wrapped in his arms and waking up slowly. The furthest thing from hatred— and isn’t that what this is supposed to be?
But then his grip tightens to pull you that much closer, and he wordlessly presses his face into the crook of your neck. Your heart flutters in your chest, sweet and terrified. The heat of his breath over your skin makes you lean into him instinctively, and when your hips tilt, you can feel the unmistakable bulge of his clothed cock against your ass.
“God,” Yoongi groans. The deep gravel of his voice is enough to tighten your nipples beneath your tank top. “You make me so fucking hard. Dreamt about fucking you in this bed.”
“We woke up early,” you murmur. “So. There’s time.”
He grunts a low note in response. You can already feel the thin material of your sleep shorts growing wet between your legs as you slowly grind your hips back on him.
Yoongi’s hand slips up your body, fingertips dragging over the fabric of your top until his palm is pressed to the column of your throat. You inhale softly, your head tipping up to allow him better access. His grip just barely tightens, and when he speaks in your ear, you can hear the smile around his words. “Tell me what you want.”
“Want you to fuck me, Yoongi,” you breathe. “In this bed.”
When you repeat his words back to him, Yoongi exhales a laugh, and then you feel him press a kiss to the hinge of your jaw. Something melts open inside of you at the brush of his lips, a sudden rush of an emotion you haven’t felt in a very long time. Something you certainly never expected to feel with Min fucking Yoongi, of all people.
He releases his hold on your throat, and his hand makes short work of slipping the straps of your tank top off your shoulders, then yanking the loose fabric down to expose your tits. You shiver a little at the morning air against your bare skin.
Yoongi’s palm closes around one of your breasts, lazily massaging it, and you rut your ass back on him with a small whimper. The heat of his mouth trails more kisses up your neck, and then his deep voice is in your ear again.
“Did you sleep okay?” He pairs the question with his thumb dragging circles over the stiff bud of your nipple, earning another soft noise from you.
“Y-yeah,” you manage to respond. “Better than the first night.”
He hums against the shell of your ear, the timbre of his rough voice setting every last one of your nerve endings alight. Overcome with desire, you can barely focus on his words as his hand traces along your waist to slip down the back of your shorts.
“Me too. So much better than the fucking couch.”
Two of his fingers tease over your slit, and he huffs a disbelieving laugh at how wet he finds you, how turned on you already are. When he swipes between your folds to circle at your entrance, you can hear your own slickness, chased with a soft noise of appreciation that escapes Yoongi’s mouth as he plunges both digits into your pussy. You can’t help but moan, too.
He could easily make you come just like this, but you want him too much.
“Yoongi,” you murmur, twisting slightly to reach a hand behind you. You trace down the hard muscles of his stomach, apparent even through the thin fabric of his t-shirt, until your palm drags along the thick outline of his cock straining beneath his boxer briefs. He’s so hard that he pulses under your touch, and you’re sure he must be able to feel the way your pussy flutters at the thought of this cock filling you up.
“Needy,” he purrs, his mouth against your neck.
“Shut up,” you answer automatically, not quite able to keep your voice steady with the way he’s fucking his fingers into you.
But Yoongi doesn’t torment you— you only have to give his clothed length one slow pump before his hands are pushing your shorts over your legs, like he can’t get them off fast enough. You kick them the rest of the way off while he works his boxers down, and then you arch back as his cock starts to tease your pussy lips apart.
He slips easily through your folds, painting you both in a mixture of pre-cum and arousal as he grinds himself over the whole of your slit. You bite back a moan when the head of his dick rubs up to your clit, smearing wetness there in steady strokes that make you gasp and writhe.
“Can I go raw again?” he asks so softly in your ear, and your cunt throbs as you whimper your consent.
It’s impossible to keep quiet now, not with how perfectly his cock pushes into you, stretching you open to take him. You press your face into the pillow to slightly muffle your sounds, and you can hear Yoongi groan behind you.
“Fuck,” he hisses roughly. “You’re ruining me. I may never be able to go back to condoms.”
“Yoongi,” you whine as he sheathes himself fully with a grunt of effort, giving you a few moments to adjust before he moves. “If you keep fucking talking in my ear with your morning voice like that—” your own voice breaks off mid-sentence as he drags his cock out just to fuck it back into you, and you have to take a breath before trying again. “I’m gonna come in five seconds.”
When he presses his mouth to your shoulder, you can feel the smirk on his lips. “Is that right?” The low rumble of his question buzzes through you, and your walls tighten around him in response. “You like it that much?”
You can barely remember how to form words with the way he’s started to thrust, the head of his cock sparking hot pleasure each time he rubs himself over the ridges of your front wall. “What if I do?”
Yoongi hums into the crook of your neck, purposefully drawing the sound out to make a shiver run up your spine, and you can’t help moaning. His hand slips between your thighs to nudge them apart, and you’re easily pliant for him, spreading yourself at his guidance so his fingers can find your clit.
“I’d tell you how fucking good you look like this,” he murmurs against your skin. “How well you take my cock.” You roll your hips in time with his strokes, and his free arm slips between your shoulder and the bed to wrap around your chest, giving him leverage to fuck you harder.
“Oh my god.” You nearly choke on your words as he pounds into you, unrelenting now, and your fingertips claw desperately at the pillow beneath your head.
“Pussy’s always so fucking tight, shit,” he groans. “Should’ve just done this the whole weekend. Don’t know how I even let you leave the room.”
Your feet flex helplessly against the bedsheets as Yoongi’s hand rubs a steadily building pressure into your core that threatens to overflow. His fingers move in tight circles over your clit like he knows your body well— which, you guess, he does. The thought of him keeping you here all weekend, tangled up in these sheets, fucking you senseless and making you come again and again and again is dizzying, enough to make your pussy start to pulse around his length.
“Yoongi,” you gasp. “Fuck, fuck, you’re gonna make me come.”
His lips brush over your shoulder, his voice stilted by how roughly he’s fucking into you. “Yeah, come on this cock. Make a mess for me.”
The pleasure is so overwhelming you almost want to squirm away from it, but then his fingers press your clit just right to snap a final thread and send you over the edge. Your thighs shake violently as your climax rips through you, and a rush of fluid squirts out of your cunt to coat the length of his dick and soak a wet spot into the sheets.
Yoongi groans unabashedly at the sight, still fucking you through the waves of your orgasm, his thrusts slowing as if to hold off his own end while your pussy keeps shuddering around him.
You take your time coming all the way down, lost in how good it feels, and then you slump back against the pillow with a ragged sigh, your head swimming. “Holy shit.”
His throbbing-hard cock is still clenched inside your heat, and the bed shifts when he gently pulls out. Dazed, you turn over to watch him as he kneels up on the bed next to you, his knees sinking soft divots into the mattress, and starts to slowly pump himself.
And fuck. He looks so good like this: long hair mussed from sex and sleep, with a half-awake look of concentration on his face, his tongue toying at the corner of his mouth and the muscles of his arm flexing with every stroke. Watching him get himself off has only gotten hotter since you saw it the first time, and you didn’t think that was possible.
It feels like it takes all the effort you have left in your body, but you manage to sit up and turn to face him. In one assured move, you reach down to grab his wrist and pull his hand off his cock.
Yoongi whines a little at the realization of what you’re doing, and he leans back to give you full access as you settle yourself on all fours in front of him.
“Oh fuck yeah, please suck me off.”
“Please?” you laugh, pausing to glance up at him. “Who taught you manners?”
“That fucking mouth did,” he growls, and it’s punctuated with a relieved moan as you drag your tongue up his shaft. One of his hands tangles in your hair while you lick the heady taste of yourself off his cock, then breathe deep through your nose so you can swallow him down.
Yoongi’s breath comes in ragged pants as you hollow your cheeks around him and start to bob your head, letting his tip rub against the back of your throat on every pass. You feel his fingers in your hair tighten, and his hips shove up to match your strokes, like he’s already close to coming undone.
This thick cock weighs heavy and familiar on your tongue, warm like the rays of morning sun that have reached far enough into the room to wash over the bedsheets now. Drool spills out from the seal of your lips around Yoongi’s shaft, and the sound of him fucking your mouth is obscene, pornographic as it floats up to the ceiling.
“God,” Yoongi gasps. “Gonna come down your pretty fucking throat.”
And it’s funny— once, this would have made you feel powerful, in control, like the person with the upper hand. The winner. But in this moment, it occurs to you that you don’t really give a shit about winning anymore. Now his words just make you hum and suppress a smile around his cock in your mouth. When you notice the way his thighs tremble in response, you keep going, vibrating his length while you sink as far down as you can take it.
The hand in your hair releases, and then his palm just barely brushes over the bulge of his cock in your throat as if in admiration. Eyes rolling back, you let your jaw slacken and swallow hard on the stretch of him there.
“Jesus, fuck,” he groans, and then he’s coming, and the throb of him in your mouth still feels like a reward. You pull back a little to keep from gagging as he paints fat ropes of cum into the tight clutch of your throat. Sucking firmly around him through spasm after spasm, you swallow it all down greedily until you feel him going soft on your tongue.
You finally pull off with a wet pop, dazed and laughing as you roll over and collapse into a heap against the mattress, thoroughly spent.
“Okay,” Yoongi manages to say on an exhale, though you can hear he’s still short of breath, too. You glance up to see him raking a hand through his hair, looking fucked out of his mind. “I’m ready to go win a Grammy now.”
There’s just enough time for each of you to shower and get dressed before a whole team of people arrive for Yoongi: stylists, hair and makeup, and most importantly, coffee delivery. Yoongi blinks wide-eyed at you as you press the largest iced Americano you could find in downtown Los Angeles into his hands, and then you step back to let everyone get to work.
Meanwhile, you spend the next few hours in a rush of attempting to get yourself ready, all while double-checking the schedule, answering emails on the fly from your phone, and trying desperately to ignore the anxiety that’s started to hum in the pit of your stomach.
Once your hair and makeup are as decent as you can get them, you slip the black dress you packed for tonight— a rental, because buying a black tie dress was absolutely out of your price range— off the hanger and step carefully into it. Watching yourself in the mirror, you reach behind you for the zipper only to realize you can’t quite manage to pull it up past the small of your back.
Fuck. You didn’t even think about the fact that Jimin helped you zip this thing up when you tried it on initially, during a night at your place where you split two bottles of wine and he performed his own personal critique of all your dress rental options. This was the only one he’d liked.
With a nervous sigh, you head for the bathroom door, figuring that you’ll be able to subtly grab the attention of one of Yoongi’s many stylists to help.
But when you slowly slide the door open, one hand pressing the fabric of your dress in place over your chest, you realize the room has fallen quiet. As you lean across the threshold, you see why: everyone is gone.
Except for Yoongi, who glances up from where he’s sunk into the couch, scrolling aimlessly on his phone.
“Where is everyone?” you snap, probably a little harsher than you need to be.
He frowns like he doesn’t understand the question. “They… left? Because they were done? I don’t know if you’ve heard, but there’s a big awards show tonight. Means the stylists are pretty booked today.”
Yoongi gets to his feet to cross the room, and you fumble awkwardly, trying to keep your dress up. He’s fully put together now in a well-fitted suit and tie, and with his long hair styled and subtle makeup applied to enhance his features, he looks… good. Too good. Deadly. You can’t quite manage to maintain eye contact, and find yourself staring dumbly at the floor instead.
His voice softens slightly as he steps in close to you. “What’s wrong? Does it not fit?”
“It fucking better,” you mutter. “I just… can’t reach the zipper.”
“Are you asking for my help?”
Your gaze flits up to meet his, and you’re a little surprised by his question. “There’s nobody else here,” you retort, stubborn.
When he blinks evenly back at you, like he’s waiting for something, you realize he’s not going to make this easy. Fucking hell. Another tense moment passes, and he just blinks again.
“Yes,” you finally give in with a frustrated sigh. “Will you please help me, Yoongi?”
“Turn around,” he murmurs, and you do.
His hand slides over the small of your back, and then he slowly starts to ease the zipper up. You don’t dare move a muscle until he’s done, and it’s only once he buttons the closure at the top that you breathe a serious sigh of relief. The dress fits like a glove.
You attempt to compose yourself enough to thank him, but the words get stuck in your throat when you feel the heat of his breath against your skin.
His low voice resonates in the quiet of the room as he leans in. “Was that so hard?”
You turn your head as if to argue, but then there’s a split second where you feel his lips brush over your neck, just below your ear. So slight it could’ve been an accident.
“Thanks,” you manage to choke out, and then you slip away from him to get your heels from the bedroom and try to remember how to breathe. You do your best to ignore the fact that your hands are shaking as you pull your shoes on, then pause in front of the full-length mirror on the wardrobe, giving yourself a final once-over.
As you smooth your hands down the black velvet fabric and turn to the side, you glance up to find Yoongi hovering in the threshold, watching you.
“That dress,” he remarks, sounding a little dazed. You have to fight to keep the smile off your face when he trails off, unable to say more— you didn’t think it was possible to make Min Yoongi speechless. It’s not a bad feeling.
And you do like this dress, even though you could never actually afford it. It’s simple but elegant, a sleeveless column style with a plunging neckline and a slit that reaches your mid-thigh. Nothing groundbreaking, but it sticks to your curves like water and makes you feel somewhat more like a person who belongs at a fancy awards show.
“Jimin picked it,” you respond, and you hear Yoongi exhale a laugh.
“He has good taste.”
You turn toward him as your hidden smile pulls into a smirk. “Well, I’m not dressed up for you,” you chide, and you revel in the way his face drops briefly in surprise before he’s able to conceal it. “I’m trying to meet Kendrick.”
“Is that right?”
“Uh-huh.”
You’re thankful that you purposefully padded your schedule with extra time, because you lose nearly every last minute of it stuck in the gridlock of Los Angeles traffic on the night of a huge event.
By the time you make it to the venue, you’re practically nauseous from all the stopping and starting and crawling of the car, and Yoongi looks equally bad, though you suspect his condition might be more anxiety-related.
As it turns out, the Grammys are a lot less glamorous when you’re only mildly famous, at least by American standards. The two of you are shepherded by security to another ‘lane’ of the red carpet and warned not to stop as you make your way into the building. You observe from afar while A-list celebrities pass in a blur, flashbulbs pop bright enough to blind you, and chatter is drowned out by the sound of fans screaming and the clamor of reporters trying to grab the biggest names for an interview.
“I’m so glad I’m not that fucking famous,” Yoongi scoffs, though he doesn’t quite manage to hide the nerves in his voice.
“Come on,” you murmur once you get inside, nodding toward a pop-up bar in a far corner of the lobby. “Take the edge off. And I’m gonna need alcohol if I have to sit through a fucking three-hour show.”
You down your drinks quickly, only a few minutes shy of the time by which you have to be in your seats, and you return from tossing the empties in the trash to see Yoongi eyeing a piano pushed against the far wall, clearly for show. He takes a seat, glancing around as if in fear of getting yelled at, then gently pushes up the key lid.
“Ooh, do Wine!” you tease with a laugh as you drop onto the bench beside him, but he actually does start to play, one foot pressing down on a pedal to keep the sound soft. His fingers alight over the keys, and the song he plucks out is beautiful. It’s a melody that almost feels nostalgic to you, even though you know you’ve never heard it before.
“What is this?” you ask, and he keeps playing as he responds.
“Do you know Sakamoto?”
You hum a no as you shake your head.
His eyes narrow slightly. “Remind me how you work in the music industry?”
A smile plays at your lips, and you roll your eyes. “Shut up. You know I’m a fraud.”
Yoongi doesn’t miss a note when he glances up to meet your gaze. “Are you?”
It’s only now that you realize how close he is: the two of you are basically sitting hip to hip, shoulder to shoulder. For a moment, you forget about the Grammys, forget that anyone else is even in the room.
“Excuse me!” A voice snaps you out of the moment, and you scoot away from Yoongi so quickly you nearly topple off the bench. “That’s not meant to be played, and we need everyone to head to their seats, please!” Your face flushes with an embarrassed heat, and Yoongi lifts a hand apologetically as he covers the keys back up.
You stick close to his side so as not to lose him in the large crowd of people. “Bet they’ll let you play whatever piano you want once you have one of those dumb little trophies,” you mutter under your breath, and Yoongi really laughs, like he wasn’t expecting the comment.
Another thing you didn’t necessarily anticipate: the Grammys are fucking long. You knew it would be over three hours, but you realize you severely underestimated how long that time would feel. While the performances are incredible (and you have to dig your nails into the cushion of your seat to keep from squealing when you spot Lil Nas X a few rows in front of you), there’s plenty of filler between them, and it feels a lot drier when you’re physically in the room for it. Even the commercial breaks are far too short for you to have enough time to actually run to the restroom or get another drink.
You’re also starving. “I hate that they don’t serve food at these things,” you hiss to Yoongi during a break, but it’s late enough in the night now that he’s barely speaking, apart from the occasional monotone grunt.
Though you’ve been waiting for it all evening, you still don’t quite know if you’re ready when the host starts to run down the list of nominees for Song of the Year.
As he’s only credited as a writer, they don’t actually say Yoongi’s pseudonym, but pride still squeezes tight in your chest when you see “Suga” spelled out across the on-stage monitors beneath the name of the song.
They get through all the titles in what seems like less than a second, and your heart feels like it might give out as an anticipatory silence settles over the crowd. The host fumbles with getting the envelope open, and you’re so tense, you flinch hard at an unexpected brush of contact.
You glance down, and it takes a moment for your brain to process what’s happened. He’s not looking at you, hasn’t said anything, but Yoongi has nevertheless reached over to grab your hand. His long fingers lace through yours, gripping surprisingly tight, and the skin of his palm is warm and dry. It’s like your brain short-circuits for a moment as you stare stupidly at your joined hands, and he gives yours a single nervous squeeze.
“And the Grammy goes to…”
You look over at him, still dumbfounded, and then you hear them call a song that isn’t his.
Your heart sinks as you watch Yoongi blink up at the screen, his mouth pulled into a flat line. You realize belatedly you’re supposed to be clapping, but his hand is still clasped in yours. And you don’t want to pull away from him.
But then he moves first, untwining his hand from yours and bringing it up to rake through his hair with a disbelieving laugh. A little delayed, you both join in the applause as the winner makes their way to the stage. You can’t even process who it is.
You have no idea what to say to console him, so you don’t say anything at all.
Thankfully the category is one of the last of the night, so you only have to sit through a few more rounds of acceptance speeches and watching other people’s dreams come true before you can finally get to your feet. You feel like you can’t leave fast enough as you’re herded out of the stadium and into another car to depart for the afterparty.
There’s a heavy silence in the backseat that feels like a chasm between you as you crawl through Los Angeles traffic.
You realize there’s a bottle of champagne tucked into an ice bucket behind the front seat— a thoughtful touch from the label execs, you assume. Yoongi spots it at the same time you do, and he immediately reaches for it. With a grunt of effort, he pops the cork, a little bit of excess foam dribbling onto the floor of the car.
He raises his eyebrows at you, then brings the bottle right to his mouth for a long drink. Longer than long. You watch his adam’s apple jump in his throat as he swallows several times.
“Alright, chill the fuck out,” you snap after a few seconds, reaching over to grab it from him. “At least eat something first.”
“It’s my consolation prize,” Yoongi quips, but he lets you wrest the champagne from his hands without resisting. You take a thorough swig yourself, then recork the bottle and drop it back in the bucket. “Such a good little admin,” he purrs, and you try to convince yourself there isn’t a hint of venom in his words.
The car pulls to a stop at the designated hotel, and you climb out after Yoongi. Upon making it inside, the two of you peel off in different directions: him for the bar, and you to find anything that remotely resembles food. You keep glancing over at him from across the room as it fills with more and more people, nervous to take your eyes off him for too long, unsure of what he might do. Every time you find him again, it seems like he’s downing another glass of whiskey, drinking like the fucking world is ending.
Meanwhile, you’re struggling to find anything that isn’t kale, quinoa, or… whatever grain-free bread is. With a frustrated sigh, you finally decide to give up. If Yoongi wants to drink on an empty stomach until he gets alcohol poisoning, you figure that’s his fucking problem.
When you shove your way through the crowd back toward him, you find that he’s been pulled into a conversation with a bunch of older men you can only assume to be local industry reps. As you get close enough to make out their words, you quickly understand why he has such a sour look on his face.
“Song of the Year, huh? You know we can cross-reference the nominees and figure out if you’re full of shit, right?”
Yoongi grimaces politely into his drink as he throws it back, but you have no problem cutting in. “You’re actually speaking to an incredibly accomplished producer and songwriter,” you retort without thinking. “He has over 100 KOMCA credits.” You don’t miss the smirk Yoongi tries to conceal behind the rim of his glass.
“KOMCA?” Another one of them speaks up, the question paired with a harsh laugh. “Never heard of it. That anything like payola?”
“Wild that anyone can just buy their way into the industry these days.” The first man shakes his head, eyes scanning Yoongi up and down as if the tailoring of his suit tells him everything he needs to know. “Guess that’s the way the world works now. Never had to struggle a day in your life, huh?”
Your response is immediate and far too loud. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
A loud laugh ripples through all of the men, clearly more excited about evoking a reaction than the gravity of their claims. “Wow, man,” the one who spoke first chortles, clapping Yoongi hard on the shoulder. “Looks like you need to control your girl.”
Your heart thuds in your chest as you watch Yoongi shrug off the guy’s hand to set his empty glass down on the closest table. He moves slowly, deliberately taking a long pause before correcting them. “This is actually my assistant.” His voice is laced with a deadly calm you know well.
“Assistant?” A third pipes up, acting as if he’s never heard the word before. “Huh. You know, back in my day we just called them secretaries. Or mistresses.”
Yoongi moves so fast you barely have time to process it, lunging forward and shoving the guy in the chest with enough force that he stumbles backwards into his shitty friends. “What the fuck!” one of them shouts, purposefully loud, and you can hear a ripple of shock roll through the crowd, can see heads turning to look your way in alarm.
“No, no, nope,” you immediately mutter. “This is not fucking happening.”
Yoongi is already taking another step toward the group, and you tighten a hand hard around his bicep. “We’re leaving.”
When he whips around to face you, the mixture of anger and pain reflected in his dark eyes is so overwhelming, it hits you like a truck. You try to force yourself to stay calm, because at least one of you has to be.
“Come on, Yoongi,” you say, letting your voice soften. “Fuck this place. I need some real food.” Your eyes search his, pleading. For a moment, you can’t help but wonder if you’re staring down an enemy or a friend.
But then you see the fight go out of him as he nods, and you breathe a silent sigh of relief.
Shifting the hand on his arm to press firmly to the center of his back, you guide him in front of you and wind through the packed room of people until you make your way outside again.
Fate does you one good turn by leaving an empty cab out front, and you push Yoongi into the backseat, then slide in next to him. You lean forward to greet the driver, doing your best to smile politely and act composed, like you didn’t just almost get into a fight at the Grammys afterparty.
“Can you take us to Koreatown, please?”
~*~
The cab drops you off outside a strip of bars and restaurants, lit up with neon signs in both English and Korean. To his credit, Yoongi seems more subdued as he follows you out of the car wordlessly, but you allow him a little more time to cool off in silence. You wander somewhat aimlessly, attempting to shake off your lingering anxiety in the warm evening air, until you stumble upon a food truck parked at the end of the block. Your eyes go wide at the posted signage.
“What do you think?” you ask as you turn to Yoongi, and he shrugs, like he really doesn’t care. Perfect. You’ve never had a problem a gamja hot dog couldn’t fix.
Securing one for each of you, you nod Yoongi toward a small group of tables set up at the curb to sit down. Once seated, you immediately drown your hot dog in ketchup and mustard, and you can hear him scoff before taking the bottles from you to do the same. Admittedly, you must look fairly ridiculous eating fried street food in full black tie, but you’re far too hungry to give a fuck right now.
It’s perfection from the first bite, crispy and hot, the batter studded with potato pieces and the inside loaded with cheese.
You’re also too hungry to bother making conversation at first, but after a few more bites you glance over at Yoongi, and your heart sinks all over again. You really do feel bad, and then the words are leaving your mouth before you can stop them.
“I’m sorry,” you murmur with your mouth full. “That you didn’t win.”
He makes a face as he chews. “We already agreed I wouldn’t have been happy even if I won, right? So it doesn’t really matter.”
You roll your eyes, unconvinced. “It’s okay to have feelings, you know. You’re allowed to be upset.”
Yoongi just shrugs, but he can’t quite meet your gaze. “It’s whatever.” You take another bite as he continues. “If I’m gonna win a Grammy, I want it to be for something that’s all mine anyway.”
The sentence surprises you, and you blink back at him. “You’re going to release your own stuff?”
As if he instantly regrets bringing it up, his face reddens a little, his expression twisting into an unsure grimace. “Ahh… I don’t know, probably not. People know me as a producer. I don’t know that anyone would actually listen to it.”
“I would,” you say without even really thinking, and his eyes widen. “You know,” you continue quickly, adopting a fake-serious tone. “Since I work in the music industry. Strictly business.”
A small smile plays at the corner of his mouth, and you find yourself relieved to see it. “I appreciate that.”
You’re also desperately curious, wondering if he’ll say more about his own music, but he goes quiet again. Given the night he’s had, you don’t exactly want to push it.
Taking the final bite of your hot dog and mourning the loss, you stack your skewer and paper tray on top of Yoongi’s, then get to your feet to toss them in the nearest trash can. When you return to the table, you smack your palms decisively against it.
“Come on. I think the circumstances call for some binge drinking.”
Your first stop is tucked into two seats at a neighboring dive bar, alive and roaring with enough ambient conversation that you have to speak fairly loudly to be heard over the noise. The bar in the center of the room is wrapped around a small open kitchen, where you watch the line cooks hustle to steam, grill, and fry what seems like a never-ending rush of food orders.
You and Yoongi stick to soju, pouring each other shot after shot. On the first one, he tilts his full glass toward you, and you knock yours against it.
“To losing,” he toasts, and you can’t help laughing as you tip your head back to drink. He’s smirking as he swallows his down, then pours you another. “Hey, maybe Jungkook will throw me a commiseration party when we get back.”
You grimace automatically at the name as you take the bottle from him to fill his glass up, and Yoongi doesn’t miss it. “Trouble in paradise?”
With a roll of your eyes, you determine that you need to be drunker for this. You take your shot, then instantly hold your glass out for Yoongi to pour another before he even gets to his. He obliges, and you throw it back immediately. The bottom of your glass hits the bar with a loud thud.
“I kinda… freaked out on him. Right before we left.”
Yoongi’s eyebrow lifts, questioning, as he drinks. “Any reason?” he prompts when he’s finished.
“Yes,” you answer stubbornly, tapping at the rim of your empty glass. He fills you up again, and you return the favor to finish the bottle. Yoongi motions to the bartender for another as you down your shot and steel yourself.
“You don’t have to tell me,” he offers.
“Don’t you want to hear that you were right?”
He shrugs like he can’t argue. “I mean, always.”
“Well for one, he asked if anything was going on between you and me.” You glance over to see Yoongi’s eyes widen slightly as he drinks. “I said no.”
“Uh huh.”
“And then he was like, ‘Good, I’m glad I don’t have to tell you to raise your standards.’”
Yoongi is clearly trying to keep his expression neutral, but it’s a losing battle. You can see the way his shoulders are starting to shake, and then he finally caves in, his palm smacking flat against the bar as he really laughs. “Wow,” he eventually recovers enough to huff, and you reach for the fresh soju bottle that’s been dropped off. “He really just said it.”
“Mm-hmm,” you intone, filling his glass and then handing the bottle back. Yoongi’s still chuckling a little as he pours your drink before taking his own, and you continue. “And then, I don’t know, there was some other stuff, and I was just like… oh fuck.”
“Because you realized he’s in love with you.”
You sigh dejectedly into your soju. “I’m so stupid.”
“Nah,” Yoongi shakes his head, reaching for your glass once you’ve emptied it again. “You wanted to avoid an inconvenient truth. Just makes you human.”
There’s a pause as you take the bottle to pour his drink, and then his next words nearly make you choke as you throw back yours. “You should date Jungkook.”
You’re sure you must look entirely dumbfounded as you stare at him. “What?”
“What?” he retorts, like he hasn’t said anything shocking. “He’d be good for you.”
For a long moment, neither of you speak as you regard him. You finally shake your head, nudging your empty glass toward him until he gets the memo. “Don’t say shit like that,” you mutter under your breath, and you’re not sure if he hears it over the din of the bar.
“Besides,” you continue as you snatch the soju out of his hands to pour his drink, “I’ve tried dating a coworker before. It’s a bad idea.”
“Sounds like a good story.”
“It’s not, really,” you murmur, staring down at the liquid in your glass. “My last job I was a waitress.”
“Mm,” Yoongi interrupts with a hum as he takes his shot. “Waitress. I was close.”
You pour him another, mostly to keep him quiet. “Yeah yeah, you’re very fucking perceptive. Anyway, I dated another server for a couple years. He ended up cheating on me with one of the hostesses, but I was honestly kinda tired of him, so I was glad to end it.” You hear Yoongi snort a little at your fairly heartless admission. “But then I walked in on them fucking in the walk-in, and it put me in a bad mood. Long story short, I ended up throwing a drink on a customer and they had to let me go.”
“Christ,” he laughs, pausing for a moment to fully take in your words. “And now you’re a pain in my ass.”
You roll your eyes as you motion for another soju bottle. “Correct.”
“Sounds like your ex was an idiot.” You glance over to find Yoongi already looking at you. “I mean, in the walk-in is just… nasty.”
“That’s what I said!” Your mouth pulls up at the corners as you try to suppress a giggle. “I don’t think we can really judge anybody though.”
Yoongi blinks, staring blankly into the middle distance. “That conference room trash can condom still haunts me.”
With a loud laugh, you bury your face in your hands, and you can feel your cheeks burning from alcohol and embarrassment. You peer between your fingers as Yoongi sets down a fresh shot for you, and you gladly take it.
“People are stupid,” he remarks wisely. “That’s why I don’t date.” You quirk an eyebrow as he passes you the bottle.
“What, a prize like you?” you deadpan. “You just fuck people in bar bathrooms like a well-adjusted human?”
“Yeah,” he admits with a shrug. “So. Wanna check this one out?”
Your mouth drops open in disbelief, and you immediately smack him on the arm. He nearly spills his drink from laughter, and you can’t keep yourself from laughing a little, too. “I already gave it to you this morning, you freak.”
“Come on,” Yoongi’s voice is teasing, and he bumps his shoulder against yours when he leans in closer. “I had a hard night.”
Pouring him another drink is your only distraction, and you do it with the utmost focus. “This dress is a rental.”
“I can pay for it.” The heat of his breath ghosts over your collarbone as he answers. You shove the bottle hard into his chest, and he takes the cue to fill your glass again, still smirking as he pulls away.
“First,” you say, sounding more confident than you feel, especially with the way your pulse has started to quicken. Your expression is deadly serious as you turn to stare into Yoongi’s eyes and he stares right back. “You have to prove that you can keep up.”
When you swallow your shot easily to punctuate the dare, a look flashes over Yoongi’s face like he’s impressed, and then he follows your lead.
After a few more bottles, the bar is so crowded and so loud that you can hardly hear yourselves think, and you stumble out of it and into the next place you see, and then the next, and then the next. All bets are off tonight, and you’re not about to tell Yoongi that he can’t get fucking trashed considering he just lost at the fucking Grammys. You figure you’ll be able to sleep off your hangovers on the stupidly long flight home tomorrow.
With each stop, Yoongi’s mood seems to improve a little. He eventually drinks enough that his suit jacket and tie come off, and they end up draped over your shoulders, despite your loud protests that you don’t need any more responsibilities. With the sleeves of his white button-down pushed up, it gets increasingly hard to divert your attention away from his hands and the muscles in his forearms, especially as you get progressively drunker and drunker.
Yoongi’s palm brushes over the small of your back as you make your way out of the last place, his touch warm even through the velvet of your dress.
“I know it was your personal nightmare,” he murmurs, words slurring together slightly, “but I really am glad you came on this trip. I mean it,” he insists when you shoot him a look. “I would be fucking insufferable if I was alone tonight. And I definitely would’ve punched that label guy in the face.”
You exhale a laugh and nearly fall over in your heels, and Yoongi’s hand slips to your waist to keep you upright. “He deserved it.” You lean into him, not entirely for balance, and you can feel it when he shrugs.
“Sorry you didn’t get to meet Kendrick.”
The glow of the various open-late establishments and the glitter of the pavement under your feet are all beautiful, especially in your current state, and the night air is still and warm. As you approach the next building and are met with the dull thud of music, your eyes go wide.
“Oh, I just figured out how you can make it up to me.”
The noraebang is surprisingly busy given that it’s a Sunday night, but you’re still able to book a room, and you giggle your thanks as Yoongi opens his wallet to pay the hourly rate like it’s nothing. The two of you work your way through more bottles of beer and soju, and when you start up the karaoke and teasingly pick the HEIZE song he produced, you’re surprised that he actually joins you.
Yoongi must be able to read the expression on your face, because he smirks mid-song. “Let the record show that I am actually a very fun drunk.”
And he is. You sing dramatically and loudly, not caring if you hit the notes, jumping and dancing and occasionally dropping passionately to your knees before dissolving into laughter. At first you monopolize the controller, but after you force a third Kendrick song on him Yoongi gestures for it, and you begrudgingly hand it over.
Crossing the room, you kneel down to dig through the provided box of props, immediately spotting and slipping on a cat-eared headband. You glance up at the screen, eyes widening as you realize he’s searching through Epik High songs. “Do Love Love Love!”
When you look back at him, Yoongi is squinting at you, laughing a little at your new set of ears. “What the fuck do you know about Epik High?”
“What do you mean what the fuck do I know?” you snap back. “I love them! I should be asking you that question, Mr. ‘I don’t listen to music’!”
His mouth pulls into a grin, his tongue toying at the inside of his cheek. “I have a few exceptions, alright?”
Still knelt down, you flop sideways onto the floor when he selects Born Hater. “Ugh, I’m too drunk to say that many words.”
“I got this,” Yoongi reassures you, flipping his microphone coolly with one hand as he gets to his feet. You can’t help giggling dumbly from your spot on the ground as you drunkenly prop your feet on the booth and reach up to pull your high heels off.
If there’s one thing tonight has taught you, it’s that Yoongi has a really good voice, even raw and live and drunk as hell. You don’t know why it surprises you, but it does. To you, performing seems like a different world from writing and producing tracks, but he does it just as effortlessly, with no trace of the anxiety you’ve seen grip him in a crowded room. The passion in the way he growls and gasps out lyrics, even just in the way he moves, it’s all undeniable and exhilarating to watch. He raps like he has nothing left to lose, mouth pulled into a snarl, occasionally reaching up to push his sweaty hair back off his forehead.
You can only gaze up at him, awestruck, wondering how many different versions of Min Yoongi you have left to discover until you hit the bottom.
The two of you trade the controller back and forth until every bottle on the table is empty, until the words blur on the screen, until Yoongi flops over to lay down in the booth with his head hanging off the edge, clearly exhausted. “No more,” he groans. “I’m so tired. And so drunk.”
Hovering above him, you pry the controller from his grip with a smile, slipping the cat ears onto his head for an even exchange. And then you get an idea.
“Last song!” you assure him as you type, and he groans even louder when Cat & Dog starts to play.
“God, this song is terrible,” Yoongi complains, but you’re singing too loud to care about his critiques.
With a severe amount of effort, he pulls himself to a sitting position, and you kneel down in front of him, miming cat paws with your hands and wiggling your hips. “I didn’t know you were into petplay,” he deadpans, and you stick your tongue out, determined not to let him ruin your fun.
You get to your feet and turn toward the screen as the second chorus finishes, yelling over your shoulder, “This is my favorite part!”
“Feel like Cinderella naega byeonae—”
When Yoongi’s voice suddenly reverberates from the other microphone, you almost drop yours. You whip around in complete disbelief. He’s on his feet and moving towards you as he continues the rap verse, the inarguable best part, with a renewed cocky energy. And you have to admit, he’s putting Yeonjun to shame.
“What the fuck!” you practically scream, but he just keeps going.
Seized by full-body drunk laughter, you stumble forward and nearly fall over, knocking into his chest. Though Yoongi’s reflexes are a little delayed, he still manages to right you without missing a word, one arm hooking around your waist. You swallow hard as you suddenly find yourself intimately close to the broad sweep of his collarbone, exposed between the top buttons of his shirt that came undone at some point during your debaucherous evening.
Fumbling for your microphone, you make it back to reality in time for the final chorus, only to fall entirely to pieces when Yoongi starts barking at full volume to match the outro. You can’t take it, and he’s not fast enough to keep you upright, so you drop straight down to the floor on hands and knees, laughing so hard it feels like your lungs might give out.
The microphone rolls dejectedly out of your grasp as you flop over onto your back, and you scrub your hands down your face, trying desperately to catch your breath as the song fades out.
“That was the best thing I’ve ever seen in my whole life,” you mumble into your palms. You uncover your face to look up at Yoongi, only to find him laughing down at you, still wearing the fucking cat headband. “I thought you hated that song.”
He rolls his eyes despite his smile. “Yeah, well, it was also stuck in my head for like a week after you played it that one night.”
You sit up with a dramatic glare. “Oh, you mean the night you stole my fucking keys?”
A proud smirk flickers over his mouth. “You know, I am sorry about that. Or at least sorry I couldn’t see the look on your face when you realized.” He tosses his microphone onto the booth bench next to his abandoned suit jacket, then reaches down with both hands to pull you to your feet. It belatedly occurs to you that you might’ve left his tie at the last bar, but you’re too drunk to give it another thought.
“I hate you so much,” you say, though you can’t quite keep your expression serious. “Fuck, I should’ve taken a video. Could’ve used it for blackmail.”
Yoongi’s voice is lower when he speaks again, and you’re suddenly very aware of how close to you he is, the fact that his hands are still closed over yours. “Guess you’re the only one who’ll ever know.”
“Mmm,” you hum, swaying a little where you stand. His palms slip to your waist to keep you steady as you blink up at him, and your hands flatten against his chest, your fingertips tracing over the buttons of his shirt. “You look good in cat ears.”
“Shut up,” Yoongi murmurs, and then his mouth is on yours.
Your hands reach up to tangle in his long dark hair, knocking the headband to the floor, and with the amount of alcohol currently coursing through your system, you don’t have a single inhibition left in you. You kiss Yoongi like you can’t fucking breathe without him.
He pulls you as close as he can, until your bodies are flush all the way down, and you don’t ever want it to be any other way. You want it just like this, sucking and nibbling at his bottom lip until his tongue licks your mouth open and you groan into him. Just like this: his palms moving down to grab your ass unapologetically, your grip on his hair tightening, even your teeth knocking together with how drunk and desperate you are for each other. Just like this: two stupid, wildly flawed humans in black tie attire, making out in a Ktown noraebang at two in the morning on a Monday.
The sound of the door opening might as well be a gunshot for how loud it feels, and you just barely manage to jump apart as an employee pokes their head in.
“Hey, we’re closing in five.”
You don’t realize you’re not breathing until you hear the door click shut again, and your gasp for air quickly turns into an overwhelmed, embarrassed laugh. Yoongi groans drunkenly, running a hand through his hair, then sighs out a long exhale, like he’s trying to calm down.
“Come on,” you giggle, still close enough to tug playfully at one of his belt loops. “Let’s get out of here.”
Thankfully a cab is still easy to flag down even this late. The two of you manage to pour yourselves into the backseat and give the driver the name of the hotel. It’s not a terribly long drive, and you watch wide-eyed out the window as the sprawl of Los Angeles rushes by, painted in neon glow and the amber wash of streetlights.
Yoongi slumps against you, and he goes quiet for so long you think he might be asleep. When he finally shifts again, he presses his face into your shoulder with a noise of discomfort, and you’re suddenly worried he might be silent for a very different reason.
“Yoongi,” you murmur, trying to keep your voice low. “Don’t puke in the cab.”
“Stupid,” he responds, and you figure he must not be doing that bad if he can still talk.
You run your fingers through the soft, dark strands of his hair, admiring the texture, the way it’s nearly long enough now to graze his shoulders. “What’s stupid?”
“I’m—” he tries, but the car dips over a pothole, and he’s talking so quietly you lose the rest.
“You’re what?”
It’s quiet for a moment, save for the click of the turn signal.
“In love with you.”
His words stun you where you sit, and you have no idea what to do, say, think. You just keep twining your fingers through his hair, like you’re stuck on auto-pilot, distantly aware that every alarm bell in your inebriated brain is going off. It feels like way too much to try and process any of it right now. It feels like a trap.
“We can talk about this tomorrow,” you finally answer. Yoongi just stays slumped against you, and he doesn’t say another word.
The cab drops you off at the hotel, and it’s quiet between the two of you as you get him up to the room. You feel like you’re watching yourself from a distance, and it’s like your brain isn’t processing any of this as really happening, as if to keep you from thinking too hard about the big picture. From what it all could mean.
In the bathroom, you stand over the sink as you lend Yoongi your makeup remover and you both brush your teeth.
“Contacts,” you remind him through a mouthful of toothpaste when he spits out the last of his, and he nods sleepily.
“You don’t have to… administrate me all the time,” Yoongi slurs as he carefully slips one lens and then the other out of his eyes.
You spit out your own toothpaste, then sigh as you rinse the sink clean. “Well, you’re very drunk, and it’s my fault.”
“It was fun,” he says quietly, fumbling the case closed.
“It was,” you echo. “Really.”
The bathroom door is half-open on its sliding track, and you glance up in the mirror to see Yoongi hovering in the threshold, looking back at you as you wipe away stray traces of mascara from under your eyes. You think he’s going to leave, but then he steps in behind you again, and you feel his hand slide up the small of your back to ease the zipper of your dress open.
Something in your heart twists as you stare down at the marble counter, and you can already tell this isn’t meant to be flirtatious. That thought is confirmed when you finally look up, only to find yourself left entirely alone.
With a small sigh, you slide the bathroom door shut, then flip the switch to turn on the fan. The white noise still doesn’t feel like enough, so you run the shower as well, then grab a plastic water bottle from the counter to chug. You retreat into the far corner with your phone, scrolling until you find the name of the only person who can possibly help you right now.
“Hey babe,” Jimin answers on the third ring. “I’m at rehearsal so I really can’t chat. You good?”
“Yoongi said he loves me,” you answer immediately, and the reality of it hits you impossibly hard as soon as you say it out loud.
“Uh-oh.”
“But,” you lean back until your head knocks against the wall. “He’s drunk as shit. I— we are drunk as shit.”
There’s a pause, and you swear you hear Jimin laugh a little under his breath. “He really said it, huh?”
“Yes, Jimin,” you groan. “In love.”
“And?”
You grimace at the flippant response from your supposed best friend. “What do you mean and?! What the fuck am I supposed to do?”
“Well, that depends,” Jimin starts.
“On?” you snap, impatient.
“Have you realized you’re in love with him yet? ‘Cause if I have to hear you babble on about this man for another week without piecing it together, I really might lose it.”
His words actually make your stomach churn. “Jimin!”
“I—” he sounds like he’s preparing to explain himself, but then he pauses, and his voice is quieter when he speaks again. “Fuck, I’m getting yelled at. I gotta go. Call me tomorrow.”
You want to scream at him to stay, to help, that he can’t just unravel you like this and then leave you to figure it out for yourself. “Mochi, I’m on the fucking plane tomorrow—”
“I’ll come over when you get home!” Jimin interrupts. “And then you can tell me the entire story of you two finally figuring out how to be normal humans with feelings.” You scoff at his biting remark, but he’s already talking over you. “You’re smart, you got this, I love you!”
You hear him blow a dramatic kiss into the speaker, and then the line goes dead.
The world spins around you as you stare helplessly at the silent black screen of your phone, and you can’t shove it all down anymore. It’s overwhelming, all of the things that you’re feeling in this moment, so much so that you can’t even identify what you feel. It’s just a giant, tangled mess, in your brain and in your heart. The tears spill out like you’ve been holding them in for weeks, hard and fast, until you can scarcely catch your breath. You scrub at the first few that roll down your cheeks, but they continue relentlessly, and you eventually give up and just let it all pour out.
You don’t know how long you stay like that, crying on the bathroom floor. You can’t even really explain why you’re crying, except that everything inside of you feels like too much to handle.
There’s a dull ache in your head by the time you finally manage to cry yourself dry, and then you peel yourself off the floor to slip out of your dress and shut off the shower. You pull on the tank top and sleep shorts you’d grabbed earlier from the bedroom, trying to avoid your swollen face in the mirror as you turn the lights out and shut the door behind you.
Yoongi has left the lamp on your bedside on, and you immediately flip it off to plunge the room into darkness, not wanting him to see you like this. He stirs slightly when you slip under the covers, and you can feel the mattress shift as he turns over.
Like it’s the most natural thing in the world, his arm slides over your stomach to pull your body flush to his, and his lips brush at the join of your neck and shoulder. As confusing as it should be, there’s something about the weight of him pressed into you that relaxes you, even through your current haze of emotion. You allow yourself to sink back against him, to breathe deeper, though your inhales are still a little shaky.
Yoongi’s rough voice in your ear pulls you up from the edge of sleep. “Did I fuck everything up?”
You sniff softly, and your own reply is barely more than a whisper. “No, Yoongi, it’s okay. Let’s just sleep."
As you hear him settle in beside you again, you make a promise that you’ll deal with the fallout tomorrow. You’ll figure out how you really feel, and how he does, and what you want, and what the hell you’re supposed to do about it all. But tonight, you just want this: to lay here with Yoongi and pretend your entire world isn’t about to change when you wake up.
chapter eight | masterlist | chapter ten
A/N: oh hiiiiii, super secret bonus author's note down here!!! just wanted to share that, now that we're officially through the grammys, that means we are down to just two more chapters left in the series!!! i held off confirming the full length of LDOMLT until we got to this point (and honestly i could've easily split this into two chapters but i am NICE and i did not give you the WORST CLIFFHANGER OF ALL TIME LMAO) - but now i'm sure. chapter 11 will be the final one. gonna do my best to get 10 and 11 up before end of year, or by very early 2023 at the latest!!! and thank u, as always, for reading 💜💜💜
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
Hello! Congratulations on 200!! Can you do knife play and rough sex please? <33333
Thrill
● Pairing: Patrick Bateman x Fem!Reader
● Summary: Patrick takes you to his family vacation house.
● CW: Knife play in its truest sense(!), hard prone sex, oral (f&m), possessive behaviour, Patrick has a filthy mouth and some more.
● Wordcount: ~4.1k (I know I am terrible! 🙈)
● A/N: So, this is the longest thing I ever wrote about Patrick. Thank you so much for this ask! I hope you like it!🥰
Also, I want to thank @ladyalexandranna @jacktorrancekinny @sosweetcupcake for brainstorming with me over this fic!💗
● Useful links: │BWC Masterlist│ │Main Masterlist│
It was the longest day that you thought would never end as you were in the middle of a party in Patrick’s friend's fancy vacation house; his name was Timothy Bryce, as you could remember and he was the only interesting person Bateman knew, besides you of course.
Drinking another glass of wine, you quickly glanced at a group of people standing close enough to you so you could hear them talking.
“Did you see who Patrick came with?” A good-looking woman asked her dark-haired friend, fumbling the necklace with a finger as she seemed to be anxious.
“Not really. But I am curious about what happened to Evelyn.”
“I heard they broke up… Bateman literally tore her heart into pieces.”
“Ohhh, what a poor thing.” A brunette laminated before she turned her gaze in your direction, looking over your back.
When you were about to spin around and check what was the object of her attention, you bumped into a solid male chest and almost right away, you felt the enveloping scent of expensive masculine perfume.
“Drank too much, sweetie?” Patrick crooned in a cute tone, wrapping your waist in a second.
“N-no, you just showed up so suddenly,” frowning a bit, you shook an empty glass in front of his eyes. “You’re lucky I didn’t stain your suit.”
With a soft chuckle, Bateman pulled you closer to whisper: “Let’s sneak out of here, Sugar.”
“Wasn’t it you who persuaded me to come here?”
“Yeah… I know,” he murmured, tickling your earlobe with his hot breath. “I just want to show you something…”
“What is it?” You rejoined, looking up to find his eyes glowing with an undisguised thrill.
“What an impatient girl…”
“Say what you want to say, Patrick.”
Bateman smirked before he pecked your cheekbone, stroking your shoulders as if he wanted you to relax. “Just wanna take you to a really luxurious house.”
Stunned by his sudden offer, you quickly looked around, tagging a ruthless lock behind your ear. “Your friend won’t be offended?”
“I don’t think he will even notice us leaving.”
With a soft smile on your face, you placed a glass on the table nearby as you knew him too well–that was not a suggestion to visit his house; it was a statement, so you didn’t really have a say in that.
After a while, Patrick’s limo was taking you further and further away from Timothy's cottage by the second. Trapped in your thoughts, you pressed your cheek against the cold glass as you were watching the scenery outside the window changing so fast.
“You never told me you have a house…”
“Well,” Patrick gasped, turning in your direction to hold your hand. “It’s my family vacation house where we used to spend a lot of time. But since my parents have divorced, all those days are left in the past.”
“Oh…” biting your lip a bit, you faced him. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know…”
“It’s okay, Sugar.” Grinning cocky, he shifted his palm to your hip, moving further to its inner side.
Excited by his unexpectedly frank touch, you covered his palm with yours as you felt yourself getting wetter with each second, but you still had one very pointed question.
“Who is Evelyn?” You asked abruptly, watching his face change into a tense grimace.
“Why do you ask?”
“Just heard someone talking about you two,” you sensed his grip tighten on your hip with your words. “Patrick, you don't have to say it…”
You heard him laughing smugly in response as he hugged your shoulders with his other hand. “Well, if you really want to know,” he got closer to your neck, nuzzling against it a bit. “Evelyn is my ex-fiancée.”
“I got it,” you stated, running your fingers through his perfect hair. “Thank you for… For being honest with me.”
“Of course, (Y/N),” he took you by the chin to lock his brown eyes with yours. “How could I not be open with you? You’re the only person I can really trust.”
Damn Bateman, what a devil–you scoffed to yourself, admitting his amazing ability to play around with all the words he was saying. To be fair, you expected any reaction from him to your question but not this; especially when he pulled you into a sweet kiss, sucking your tongue as you allowed him to.
The rest of the way to the vacation house, you both kept in silence as you pressed your head against his broad chest, playing with the fabric of his fancy coat while Patrick was patting your shoulders and your back. What an unbelievably strange harmony—you concluded, remembering the aphorism about a calm before the storm.
Soon, you arrived at a beautifully constructed house with a large yard, which had a magnificent garden planted. Amazed by the open view, you were looking through the window like a child who saw the snow for the first time.
“(Y/N), are you thinking?” Patrick joked as he already got outside the limo and was waiting for you to follow.
“Sorry, I’m just so fascinated by the beauty of this house,” the fact that you couldn’t hide your emotions made him so proud of himself and you didn’t really mind. “Can’t take my eyes off of it.”
“I bet,” he gave you a hand to help you move out. “I wonder what you will say when we get inside.”
Finally, you stepped on the ground and as a true gentleman, Patrick offered you to walk arm in arm with him and you couldn’t refuse this sweet gesture. A cool breeze was blowing around you as you were walking on a stone path that led to the main door.
As soon as you walked inside the house, Patrick helped you to pull off your coat and asked in a sweet tone: “Sugar, are you cold?”
“No, I’m fine,” you smiled at him before you looked around. “This house is as huge as it looks from the outside!”
“You can say that, huh,” he hugged you from behind, pushing you a bit to move forward. “Let’s proceed to the main area here–the living room.”
Grinning, you were totally tempted to know what the walls of this house had prepared for you. Switching between looking to the left or to the right, you were following Patrick and your heartbeat was rising with each step you made as you couldn't figure out what he was up to yet.
“Well, here we are,” he declared, his extremely masculine voice sounding even deeper. “You can make yourself a small tour of the house, while I’m setting up some things.”
“Which things?”
“Find us a drink, for example,” Patrick chuckled, gliding his hand against the expensive brown-leather couch. “Go wherever you want, you have my permission.”
That was really weird, no mistake.
Humming to yourself, you clicked your tongue and decided–right now you were not in the mood of solving any puzzles, so you just nodded to him before you left the living room as you were on your way to new adventures.
You didn’t remember how many rooms you’d already seen, there were a lot of them for sure. When you were about to come back to Patrick, you noticed a heavy door made of some dark high-quality wood; you could almost see your reflection on the doorknob.
As soon as you entered the room, you looked for a light switch, tracing your hand against the wall. Once you found it, you made a loud gasp at the picture that had opened up to you–plenty of animal heads were looking at you from the opposite side of the room, causing your blood to freeze in your veins.
It seemed like you accidentally got into the hunting room or maybe the study? Along with the hunting trophies, you saw a lot of different weapons: knives, rifles, daggers, and…even a sword?
Puzzled, you were thinking about to whom all of this stuff belonged as you came closer to have a proper look. You couldn't remember Bateman saying anything about him being into hunting, but maybe his father did—because this type of free time was quite suitable for people of high society. Reflecting on all these things, you didn’t notice your finger sliding against the handle of one of the big hunting knives. When you spotted a beautiful engraving on it, you squint your eyes in order to read it, but almost right away you were caught like a bratty baby whose curiosity led it into the trap.
“Aren’t you afraid you might cut yourself?” Bateman’s raspy voice sent shivers down your spine.
“Oh! I was just looking and…” you spun around to see Patrick standing in the doorway with his arms crossed on his chest. “Well… I wasn't supposed to touch it.”
For how long was he standing here, and how did he sneak up so quietly that you didn’t even hear a sound to detect him? Sneering, Bateman pushed off from the doorway, his dark eyes tracing all over your shaking frame as he must have been already so aroused.
“Are you gonna join me in the living room or have you suddenly decided to become a huntress?”
Embarrassed, you moved towards him to peck his cheek before murmuring: “Sorry, daddy. I hope you will forgive me for this little lapse in judgement?”
“Mm-hmm,” he muttered, giving your butt a brief slap. “I need to think about it. But now, I want you in the living room. Is it clear?”
You nodded in agreement as you moved to the door, leaving Patrick behind your back, so you couldn’t notice him taking exactly that knife you were touching before.
Once you reached the living room, you immediately saw a lighted fireplace which made the entire atmosphere so cozy and warm–you felt your heart melting from the heat it was radiating. Then, you found a glass of red wine which was waiting for you on the coffee table. Taking a sip of the tasty liquid, you placed yourself on the leather couch, watching the flame dancing like it was alive.
“Enjoying the drink?”
“I’m not an expert on wines, but this one tastes amazing,” you looked up at him before you froze in place. “Patrick, w-why do you need that thing?”
With a devilish smile on his face, Bateman was twirling a knife in his hands as he was slowly getting closer to you; the way his brown eyes were burning with an animalistic bloodlust made you feel a terrible drop in your stomach.
“Relax, Sugar,” Patrick let out a small laugh as he took pleasure in the look of fear you had mastered. “Those weapons definitely got your attention, didn’t they?”
“I… I was just curious, nothing special about i-it.” You hiccupped a bit, feeling an uprising panic inside your chest the closer he was getting.
“Do you like the feeling of danger?” he crooned in a provocative but seductive tone before he reached your place. “When adrenaline is rushing the blood in your veins, hmmm?”
At this moment, a sense of reality drowned in the theatre of madness and you didn’t even notice yourself breathing heavily with your heart beating so fast–he could hear it without a doubt.
“Okay… Now it’s not funny at all,” your voice cracked into a whine as you were going to break away from him, but he stopped you with his grip on your neck the second you tried to do it. “P-Patrick, your words were sufficient. You don’t have to do this...”
“Do what?” Bateman was shamelessly playing on your nerves cause he was so good at it and as a result he could sense the artery on your neck pulsing really quickly. “Do you want to know more about this knife?”
With that said, Patrick pressed a blade to your cheek in a way that didn’t hurt you, but you could feel the coolness of the metal on your skin. Gulping, you looked up at him, watching his fingers going up to your chin and then, he traced them along your lips, forcing you to open your mouth as he slipped his thumb inside of it. Suckling it with a true devotion, you were attempting to soothe your breathing as you were scared to get a cut.
When Bateman pulled his digit out, he drew near to kiss your neck but before he did it, he heard your muffled babble: “Tell me… Tell me more about it…”
Grinning against your skin, he left a notable wet hickey on your bare shoulder as he proceeded his way with the knife, going down to your cleavage. “This knife was exclusively made on my orders, from high-quality steel to the imported wood for the handle. The perfect combination of an extra sharp blade and a special decorative wooden handle.”
With each word he said, the heat of his body became unbearable to resist as you felt your nipples tense so hard–Patrick wouldn't miss it for sure and soon, you ended up being sprawled on the coffee table, panting and trembling from how he was using the knife, slicing your clothes here and there.
“D-daddy,” you sobbed, fidgeting in your place as you sensed the cold metal gliding over the inner side of your hip. “I’m scared…”
“Don’t be, Sugar. Just stay still if you don’t want to get hurt,” he sneered in a hoarse voice, pulling on your black tights to slice them without hurting you. “Mmhm, I forgot to say–I gifted this knife to my father, so it’s his favourite one from his extensive collection. The fact that you chose exactly this knife turned me on so much…”
Closing your eyes, you wailed in response as at last Patrick cupped your pussy, rubbing your blushing clit with the thumb through your damp underwear; for a moment you even forgot about the blade pressed against your thigh as your body was desperately yearning for more.
“So, I was right when I said that being in danger excites you? Such a nasty risky girl, huh?” Bateman taunted you before he planted a sloppy kiss on your mound, going lower to your little nub and then, he cut your panties, throwing them away like useless trash. “Once I entered that room I could smell your arousal in the air, you're a dirty little slut!”
“T-that's not true! Auhh-Patrick…”
“C’mon, baby. We are not at school,” he ran his fingers along your moist folds. “And I am not your teacher, you don’t need to hide your perverted vices from me…”
When you looked down to see him pressing a handle of the knife against your clit, you immediately suddenly cried out, leaning on your elbows: “Pat...Patrick! What… What are you doing?”
“You don’t see?”
“S-stop…Mmm-hm….”
“Do ya really want me to stop?” Mocking you, Patrick pushed the handle harder as he was massaging your clit with the tip.
These suddenly blissful sensations made your toes curl and your peaks were painfully tight, just like your whole insides as you felt the building tension in your lower belly.
“Your thirsty pussy certainly needs more,” he growled from watching your slickness running down the handle. “Much more…”
Biting his lower lip, Bateman placed his one hand on your cunt to spread your folds for better control as the thing he was going to do next, was totally destructive to your already clouded mind.
Almost with no resistance, he stuffed your little hole with a handle, fixating you in one place as you were jolting all over the wooden surface of the coffee table and moaning wildly like never: “O…G-God, a-ahhh…Daddy, this… this is…”
“Too much for you?”
“A-aww, y-yeahh,” you had to shush yourself with a palm from the friction the handle was making. “I…”
Paralyzed, you were falling down into oblivion the moment you felt him lapping at your throbbing clit besides the stretching penetrative feeling he was giving you with the handle–these things were pushing you over the edge insanely fast like a high-speed train. Twitching erratically from the intensive tremor, you clung to the wooden table top until your knuckles hurt. Arching your back like a tensed string, you were desperately catching the air between your moans, as all this time Bateman was licking and sucking on your pulsating nub, extending your delirious orgasm, while fucking your roughly with the handle.
Little drops of sweat were running down your face, when Patrick finally let you come back from your high as he left your body almost breathless.
“And what would you say about that?” panting, he briefly fixed his hair and only then, he pulled out the handle as he was going to clean it up. “According to what I saw–that was not too much for you.”
With all the strength you have left, you got up a bit to watch him licking your wetness off the handle. “No comments from me…I guess.”
His loud chuckle echoed in your head before he demanded: “Get yourself on the couch, we’re not done yet.”
Gulping, you thought he must have been joking, but when you looked into his dark eyes–you had no doubts about him being so damn serious. With shaking knees, you stood up and moved to the leather couch; Patrick was watching your every step as he was undoing his suit. Still quivering, you took the same place you had before, feeling yourself uncomfortable from the endless wetness between your legs.
“Sugar, look at me…” he purred, coming close to you as he was stroking his fully erected cock. “I’m not gonna face fuck you now, since you were a good girl last twenty minutes… But next time, I will ruin your mouth and your throat and I won’t stop even if you beg me. Understand?”
“Mmhm.” You muffled, giving him a foggy glance.
“Use words, slut.”
“Yes, Pat… Daddy,” you watched him smirking in satisfaction and then, Patrick got his leg on the edge of the couch, still having a knife in his other hand. “What do you want me to do?”
“Now it’s your turn to taste me, babe,” he pulled you closer to his groin by the back of your head, shoving his dick into your warm mouth. “A-argh…Yes, just like that…”
You mewled against his hot flesh, grabbing on his hips for support but almost instantly, Bateman removed your hands and squeezed your cheeks.
“No-no, I said to taste–not to touch.” His whisper sounded more like a feral growl as he brought the knife right next to your face once again.
Trembling, you swallowed hard and looked at the blade that could cut you at any second, feeling your heart about to jump out from your chest. Meantime, Bateman displaced his palm onto your swollen tits, pulling down the upper part of your dress to have a better access to your very sensitive nipples, pinching and rolling them painfully between his long fingers.
“Mmmm-hm.” You mewled, feeling his cock twitching in your mouth whenever you tensed your lips around it as if you were sucking your favourite ice-cream.
“Fuck, Sugar…You’re making daddy feel so good…”
Once you adjusted to the lack of the air in your lungs, he suddenly broke away from you, putting a knife on the floor nearby. Without saying a word, he manhandled you to turn around and lay flat on the couch, with your face pressed against the leather material. When you tried to lift your head, you were harshly pushed back and then; you felt his weight covering your little body. Fuck, Bateman was so powerful–he could easily pin you against any surface he wanted to, leaving you no chance to make any resistance.
“A-awww, Daddy… please! It’s so fucking deep, aa-ahh…” You cried out beneath him as he bottomed you out completely in one smooth thrust.
In return you only heard his low growl, flesh-meeting-flesh sounds bounced against the walls of the living room and there was nothing left for you to do but to be a good girl for him, accepting him the way he was.
Leaning on his fists, Patrick was pounding into you so briskly–you could felt each vein on his beefy shaft as he was literally fucking you into the couch.
“Patrick…Aaamh!…” Moaning, you turned your head to the side, looking down on the floor and spotting the knife on it.
Right away, Patrick noticed the direction of your gaze and grumped into your ear, giving your butt a hard slap, which would definitely hurt for a while. “My little bitch didn’t get enough of knife games?”
“N-no…I…I just, uu-uaah….”
“Can’t hear you,” he laughed and leaned down, taking the knife in order to press it against your throat. “Do you forget how to speak?”
“I’m…So f-full, mmmhm!”
“Oh, come on!” he slammed into your cunt till his heavy balls, coaxing something incoherent to erupt from your mouth. “I’m fucking your pussy, not your brain…”
Harshly, Bateman pulled on your hair, forcing you to look into his eyes as he was railing you raggedly, making your whole body rock whenever his solid hips were meeting yours. It felt so crazy, being fucked by him like an animal with a knife gliding against the delicate skin of your neck…and yet, you could sense the upcoming rapture in your gut as you couldn’t deny–you liked this man and all the things he was doing with your body cause you were probably as insane as he was.
“Fuck! I’m so close, Sugar… I wanna cum into your pretty mouth,” he blurted out, breathing furiously as he was trying his best to last longer. “Get on your back.”
You heard a knife fall on the floor with a loud thud, when you were changing your position and then, Patrick set himself on his knees over your face, almost straddling it. With a slight push, he buried himself in your mouth, yanking on your hair as he was desperately cresting his high.
“My perfect b-baby, sucking me so well…” Patrick looked down at you, groaning so loudly as the picture of you devouring his thick cock with such innocent eyes, drooling so badly from how vigorous you were bobbing your head–pushed him over the cliff, making him completely lose his mind. “A-hhh, (Y/N)!”
With closed eyes, Bateman moaned your name as he was spilling his warm seed into your throat and you almost choke on his beefy girth, clawing at his hips. When he slowly pulled out of you, leaving a string of liquids which was extended from your mouth till the blushing tip of his cock, you could feel his body shaking from the tremendous release–his cum was dripping on your tits from your chin as you couldn't swallow all of it and that sensation irrevocably turned you into a ruined sobbing mess.
Huffing, Bateman got his hair out of his face before he spun around in a half as his fingers found their way to your overstimulated pussy once again.
“D-daddy…It feels…So g-good….a-awww!”
That was the last thing you pronounced as you inner walls began to spasm so hard, Patrick had to press you against the couch with his weight as he was finger fucking you in a perfect rhyme, hitting all the right spots inside your cunt. Wrapping your neck, he leant over to your face to kiss your lips, tasting himself on it and consuming all the nasty sounds you were making as you were trembling uncontrollably in his brawny arms.
Later, after you both cleaned yourselves, you were lying on the couch, covered with a blanket which Bateman brought you some minutes ago; it was so warm and soft, you nearly purred from the pleasant feeling as you were totally naked cause you didn’t want to get dressed yet.
Resting on your elbows, you looked at Patrick who was standing near the fireplace and smoking his favourite cigar. Unlike you, he was wearing a white t-shirt and grey pants, which were perfectly outlining the shape of his tight ass.
“I can’t imagine what your father will say when he knows you took his knife…” You sighed sadly, rolling on your belly.
“He won’t say anything at all.”
“Why?”
“I’m gonna borrow this knife from him,” he grinned as he turned in your direction, puffing on his cigar from time to time. “Coz I don’t know when my sugar baby will decide to play this game once more…”
“Me?!” you nearly squealed, getting up on your knees. “That was your idea!”
“Really?” he crooned in a teasing way, admiring the view of your exposed body as the blanket slipped down a bit from you moving. “You know what? Next time, I don’t mind if you use this knife on me. I've got some shirts I don’t really like–you can slice some of them.”
The last thing you remembered before you fell asleep was him rumbling about the modern techniques of making different weapons and that one day, he should definitely take you to the shooting gallery. Simply irresistible man…
#american psycho#patrick bateman x reader#patrick bateman imagine#patrick bateman#patrick bateman x female reader#patrick bateman x you#slasher x reader#slashers x reader#slasher x you#slasher smut#patrick bateman smut#patrick bateman headcanon#christian bale smut#christian bale x reader
397 notes
·
View notes
Text
happy birthday - sim jaeyun.
pairing. jake x fem!reader
wc. 900+
warnings. smut (minors dni), explicit language, handjob (jake receiving), unprotected sex, nicknames (kind of).
a/n. hello hellooo, i’m back with another small drabble for my hubby’s birthday todayy 😚 i love this man, so fucking much it hurts. like literally 💔 i was supposed to turn this into an actual fic, but i’ll do an actual one soon, i was just really tired and was too lazy to get it over to 1000 words 😭 was daydreaming in the middle of doing this so i posted this late 🧍🏻♀️ anyway, happy birthday to my love, my man, my aussie boy, laylas daddy, i love you. <3 - from laylas mommy <3
you woke up to the sun shining in through the gap from your curtains, turning around to see your boyfriend still asleep. you pushed his little strands of hair back, caressing his face.
his eyes slightly opened from your touch, a smile creeping up his face as he saw yours.
“good morning, jakey.”
he responds with a little hum, still too tired to say anything. “happy birthday,” his eyebrows furrowed, forgetting that it was his special day today. “it’s my birthday?” he mumbled.
“yes dummy.” you chuckled at how cute he was being. “you remembered? i thought you forgot.”
“why would i forget about my future husband’s birthday? i think you’re the one who’s forgetting here, jake.”
he let out a small laugh, then pulling you in closer to his embrace. “do you wanna go out today? it’s our day off.” you asked, “i’d rather stay in today, love.” he said after lightly shaking his head, almost dozing back to sleep.
“but i want to do something special for you,” you pouted.
“and what is that, my love?” he put his finger under your chin, as you lifted your head up, meeting his sleepy eyes. “just something..” his eyes widened as you then straddled his lap, making him the one under you.
“kiss me.”
he then pulled you in, pressing his lips against yours. he sat up properly to lean against the headboard of the bed. he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to his body while still kissing you feverishly.
he quickly pulled away to take off his shirt, as he slipped off his pants as well. his bulge now poking out of his boxers. you put your palm on his clothed cock, making him whimper in your mouth. you then played with his waistbands, slowly taking it off.
you pulled away from the kiss, looking down to see his cock hit his abdomen. you put your thumb on his tip, spreading his pre-cum everywhere, along with your spit. “fuck.” he whispered under his breath.
you then took him whole in your one hand, stroking him a couple of times, going slow at first. he threw his head back while his mouth fell wide agape from the pleasure, letting you do all the work. you increased your speed, stroking his cock faster.
you knew he was close by the feeling of his cock twitching in your hands, you went faster, helping him reach his high. his cum squirted all over his stomach. “fuckfuckfuck” you watched as his cum shot up, covering parts of his stomach, creating an unusual line.
you leaned down, pressing your tongue against his abs, licking every part before reaching up to his chest, now making eye contact with his hazy eyes. you laughed at his tiredness.
but you weren’t done yet.
you pressed your lips against his once again. this time it was slow and passionate, so he can take his time getting ready for what you’re going to do next. you slowly took off your silk pj’s, revealing the darker spot on your underwear from how soaked you were.
he ran his fingers through under your panties, making you shiver from his touch. he caressed your naked ass while tugging on your waistband with his other hand, indicating that he wants it off. you instantly took it off from your waist, lifting yourself up carefully.
you line yourself up on his cock, you slowly sinked down onto him, the room now filled with your moans as he groans. you gasped as he rolled you over making you the one under him this time.
you felt him go deeper in your hole as you whimpered against his ear. “fuck, your so fucking tight, baby.” his raspy voice made you even more turned on, the feeling of your wet pussy around his cock being enough to make him cum again right then and there.
“move.” you demanded, and so he obeyed, increasing his speed, pulling in and out of you. your eyes rolled to the back of your head from the immense pleasure that he was giving you.
there was no use of keeping in your moans, so you let it all out, letting him hear the angelic sounds come out of your mouth. the sound of your skin slapping eachother as he kept hitting your g-spot.
“your so fucking tight, baby.” he groaned as he placed wet kisses on your neck, turning them into hickeys. “jakey..” you whined, you dug your nails into his shoulders as he intensely went faster, your hole becoming swollen.
“i- i’m close, jakey..” you held onto him tighter, your legs shaking even more as you were close to cumming. “i’m close too, shit.”
“cum in me.”
it wasn’t long till you felt him covering your velvety walls white. your juices mixed with his cum running down your thighs as he fell onto you, his breath hitting your skin.
“happy birthday.” you whispered, taking his face in your hands, repeatedly placing small pecks on his soft lips. he smiles in between the little kisses, pushing his down onto you for another little make-out session.
“i’ll buy you something, and a cake of course, but you better not drop it this time.”
“having you as my future wife, is just as enough for me.” you smiled nonstop at what he said, immediately getting butterflies through your stomach, making you forget that he’s still inside you.
“ok, whatever. but i’m still buying you a cake.” you pout as he laughed.
“i love you.”
“i love you too, y/n. and i promise i won’t drop the cake this time.” he smiled before pulling you into one last kiss.
#jake smut#jake x reader#enha smut#enhypen smut#hard thoughts#enhypen hard hours#sim jaeyun#sim jake#enhypen scenarios#enhypen imagines#sim jaeyun smut
737 notes
·
View notes
Text
〄 NOW PLAYING : NSFW ALPHABET WITH JOHN DOE<33
JOHN DOE + FEM!READER
18+, DARKCONTENT, period blood, DUBCON/NONCON, monster fucking (?), bondage, a little fluff, knife play, blood, marking, overstimulation, public sex, yandere themes (obviously), biting, scratching, horror elements, mentions of violence, readers skin color is not mentioned, all characters are over 18
I love this emo so much :( i just wanna hug him :((
> AFTERCARE
Oh he would take care of you when he's done using your beautiful body...
if he would know how..
the first time he literally almost ripped you apart you were the one doing the aftercare, he was so pussydrunk and out of it that he just clings to you even more than he normally would, which would be annoying if you werent so in love with this big creepy babyboy. and used to him being on your ass 24/7..literally.
> BODYPART
HOW IS HE SUPPOSED TO CHOOSE WHEN EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU IS PERFECT?!
But he loves your soft and pillowy tits, he loves laying his head on them, kissing, licking them and burrying his head between them when he's stretching you out and fucking you like a rabid animal
But then again..your thighs are his favourite too..holding onto while digging his sharp nails into them to see some pretty bruises afterwards makes him crazy!
> CUM
He loves to see his sticky, thick cum on your face most of the time, because you just look so beautiful with his semen on your angelic face! Collects it all back onto his fingers and makes you suck the cum off of them
But to be frank.. he would love to see you just drowning in his cum
> DIRTY SECRET
Well the secret is not even really a secret, because you found out a long time ago..
it's that he takes pictures of you while you're working and hurries off to somewhere Private to furiously jerk off to them, but he only does that when the Gas Station has customers, if not..well then he just watches you from where you can't see him with his hand down his pants, stroking his cock to you literally doing ANYTHING
> EXPERIENCE
Baby, no..he doesn't have any experience..he wanted to save himself for you!
When you first hopped onto his lap he just got flustered and let you do whatever before he just started sweating, panting and drooling like a little puppy. Don't get me wrong, he likes it when you take control of him but he likes it even more to see your eyes fill with tears and you scream as if he was killing you when you're under him and he slams himself in and out of your sloppy and tight cunt
> FAVORITE POSITION
John doesn't have a favourite Position, he loves to see you in any of them!!
But it depends on what his mood is, when hes feeling good he will just Stick with missonary or cowgirl.
But when he's horny out of his mind (which is most of the time) he will either have you folded up for him in a mating press while his long tongue doesn't stop fucking your throat or he'll just pounce on you like a wild animal finally attacking its prey, and just fuck you from behind while his suprisingly strong arm is around your neck, restricting any air fron entering your lungs until you finally cum for him.
> GOOFY
Yeah John can be pretty goofy during sex. For example when you try to talk but he was just done choking you, your voice is rasped and you cant get a single word out he just laughs at you, but then he tells you how cute you are<33
> HAIR
Just like on his head, a lot. He doesn't take care of himself unless you force him, you do wince a lot when he rams his cock down your tight throat and that forest of dark curly hair brushes your face over and over again. But you love the way his happy trail looks, honestly..so you don't force him to shave it off.
> INTIMACY
He's VERY intimate of course, sometimes he just holds you as close as he could against his body, John just loves the feeling of being conected to you. His favourite thing is when you're about to cum and just hug him as tight as you could, Johnny boi just cums with you on the spot<3
> JACK OFF
Yes.
Just yes.
He jerks off as much as he can when you're not around, he can never stop thinking about how perfectly your small, delicate little neck fits in his big hand, or how cutely you whimper when he Cuts your skin just deep enough for blood to drip out. OR the way your pussy clenches and begs for him to go harder and harder. The only downside is that he feels way too watched at his place..
> KINK
Where do i fucking Start? Ahem.
First place has two favourite kinks of his :
Fearplay, of course. He loved seeing the fear in your eyes the first day he met you, it never left his mind! He loves seeing your eyes widen and your body tremble when he runs the cold metal of his knife across your supple breasts or even your throat~ it turns him on more than anything ever could!
blood kink. He loves to see your blood AND his blood on you, he just loves the look of the pretty red substance on your pretty skin~ but he loves loves loves it when you're on your period and he can see blood flowing out of your—HIS cunt..but licking and sucking it up with that long and talented tongue of his and tasting it just makes his cock trob and leak, sometimes the poor baby even cums untouched when you cum on his tongue with that pretty blood of yours pouring out along with your juices
Choking is second, but im not talking about that pussy shit to just keep you in place, no no. I mean that hard-ass grip till veins prod out on the skin of his hand or till your face turns red and tears begin pouring out of your eyes and drool drip from your glossy lips.
Sizekink is third, no matter who is in control in that moment he just loves seeing how small everything about you is compared to him <33 and even though he might not look like it, he is very, very strong..i mean he isn't quite human so..yeah.
Fourth is breeding, pulling out is never an option, even when you scream at him to NOT cum inside of you. He cant even hear you through the need of breeding your pretty little womb~
> LOCATION
Oh he could care less, because when he's horny he needs you now. It doesnt matter where you two are! But he loves loves loves to take you anywhere in his weird ass home, seeing you, such a beautiful angelic being in a place like this, being taken, tainted, ruined by a thing like him just really gets him going
> MOANS
John is Hella loud. Just..very loud. But its cute, very cute actually! The way he whimpers, cries, moans and whines when you tied him to his bed with some cords you found lying around because he wasn't listening to you to stop touching you already when you're the one on top! His begging and whining to :
➤ "PLEASE- L-LET ME TOUCH YOU, MY LOVE- P-PLEASE!!"
Is just too cute.
But he's also pretty needy and loud when he's the one in control, he just cant stop huffing, moaning and telling you :
➤ "you look so cute like th-this, my love...those tears make you look like an angel..h-haah.."
> NO-GO
Threesomes. He doesnt want ANYONE else being able to see you like he does, you're his! The furthest john would go would be letting that fucker who works with you and always tries to flirt with you watch as he bends you over the counter and chokes you to the edge of passing tf out
Cucking him is also a HUGE no. He could never go through that, it would hurt him to see you with someone else. He would honestly kill you and the other person then afterwards himself because who is he without his precious angel?
> ORAL
He loves recieving and giving,
knowing that you love to have him down your throat turns makes him so happy, not to mention that it feels like heaven. To have you slurping and sucking on him is just a toe curling sensation! And he normally just cums from you just spitting on his cock
BUT GIVING. He lives for eating your pussy, and yes. He bites. Not hard though, of course..
maybe..
depends on his mood, really.
He loves fucking you with his long tongue, wriggling it around in your cunt and seeing you writhe and cry, you look so pretty when you cum too. Sometimes you look terrefied at how hard you cum, which is also just heaven for john<3
> PACE
It also depends on his mood or if he is in the Power Position, if he is, he will go as fast as he could possibly go (which was really fuckin fast) and when he was fucking you like a rabid animal his long tongue would roll out and he would drool onto your already wet face from all the sweat, tear and your own drool
> QUICKIE
Quickies dont do it for him, plain and simple. But when he begs you for a 'quickie' in the morning when you had to go to work, he always found a way to make you stay longer on his cock by teasing you and not letting you cum by saying :
➤ "what? You said you have to go to work, my love..dont you wanna leave soon?"
Which makes you beg for more saying stuff like "i-it can wait, b-baby! Please just- nghh..m-make me cum!!" You whined. And when you beg like that he just has to slam you down onto the bed and pound into you<33
> RISK
Oh he loves taking risks, for you, he would do anything. You asked to go to the Beach with him and first he said flat out
➤"no"
But when you fake pouted and said "aww..then i will have to go alone to try on my new tight fitting bikini.." you knew you would get him like that, but it wasnt going to be that easy. As soon as you laid down on your towel he laid his head on your thigh, you already felt kind of off when he kept nudging his cheek against your thigh. And soon enough he slid his overly long tongue beneath your bikini, sliding along your slit "j-john! Wh-what are you doing?! There are people around!" You whisper screamed and lifted your sunglasses. But he just grinned knowing that you wont push him off. You tried so hard not to moan, you were just thanking god that people didnt suspect anything..you soon felt really close and clenched your thigh against his head, that was making people actually look so John pushed your thigh back down with his hand, pressing it back onto the towel
➤ "don't be so obvious! It's like you want people to know, i had no idea how dirty you actually are, my beloved~"
> STAMINA
Bitch he can go as long as he wants..he doesn't know what 'slow down' means..it's almost like he can't stop when you look at him with those teary, begging eyes just moaning : "p-please! S-slow down!! I-its so sensitive- i-im gonna cum again!!"
> TOY
If a knife is a toy, its that.
He loves, loves, loves the way your pussy throbbs around his fingers when he runs the knife along your skin, or even carves his name below your tits, watching the blood gush out of you. When he feels you're about to cum he leans down and licks the blood up, finally making you cum.
> X-RAY
BIG. H U G E
about 11 inches, uncut with pretty veins decorating his cock. its very sensitive, so be careful with this poor boy (jk he loves to be overatimmed)
> YEARNING
John yearns for you all the time, he cant stop thinking about anything you do. Everything you do is beautiful to him, he could just drown in you!!
> ZZZ
Babyboy falls asleep pretty fast, because at the pace he was going before, he just lays his head on your chest clings onto your body as your thighs hold onto him, and when your hands start to caress his back or run through his long, black hair he just starts humming happily and Falls asleep, he's just a big baby <33
#jojo writes#john doe horror game#john doe game#john doe x you#john doe x reader#john doe smut#john doe game smut#cw noncon#cw dubcon#cw blood#cw breeding#cw knives#cw horror#cw periods
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
“I wanna be yours”
Hobie brown x virgin! Fem! Reader SMUT
warmings: unprotected sex, licking
I was in Hobie's universe, in his apartment to spend some time with him, to do something he tried to teach me to play his guitar
I was sitting between his knees, he was behind me as he guided me through how to play his guitar
his voice was a hoarse whisper so hot it made my panties wet, his big hands held mine to hold the strings to make the music from the guitar come out
me and him had never gotten to having sex because i was scared but at the same time when i was at my house i fantasized about him how he was going to fuck me
I was so in my thoughts that I didn't even realize Hobie was calling me
Hobie = “Hey baby what’s wrong?”
Y/n = “oh… nothing”
when i said that he grabbed my chin to look into my eyes
Hobie = “with me you don't have to hide anything, ya can tell me everything… and you know it”
I was struck by his words, he was so understanding and sweet with me, I really loved him so much I often wondered why he was with a girl like me
I didn't answer, I just looked down staring at the floor and felt my cheeks starting to blush
Hobie = “okay, won't you tell me? then I'll do it myself”
to my surprise he kissed me starting to caress my belly and then ending up on my tits
Y/n = “Hobie…I…”
He kiss me again and he says:
Hobie = “shhh… don’t worry precious, everything it’s fine… are ya ready for this?”
to answer his question, I turned to him and kissed him softly, ending up lying on top of him on the floor
he picks me up carrying me to his bedroom and he puts me on the mattress
Hobie = “you are so damn cute, How do you expect me not to be hard on you?”
he starts kissing my neck and leaving some of his marks, he took off my shirt thus revealing my boobs
Hobie = “awww these lovely boobs? How cute…”
in response I moan when I feel his warm tongue on my right boob and with the other he played with his hand
when he pulled away I left a mark on my right boob, he kissed my stomach getting to my shorts
for the first time, i didn't feel fear and i trusted him blindly, so i decided to be brave, getting on my knees and impatiently taking off his shirt by pointing out his chest
Hobie = “We're impatient now? do you really think you're in control baby?”
when he said this, I was already pulling the waistband off his pants and dropping them so as to reveal his boxers
Hobie started laughing and lovingly looking at me as he pushed me back onto the bed, after that, he literally ripped my shorts off, i was a bit shocked by his action
Hobie = “I'm sorry baby but I've waited too long for this moment, you have no damn idea how many wet dreams I've had of you while I was fucking you”
he leaned down towards my pussy and Hobie gently opens my legs, he slightly moves the fabric of my panties using his fingers and teasing my sensitive part making me moan
Hobie = “was it me did ya get so wet in this pretty pussy? Tell me”
Y/n = “yes… Hobie it was you! only you can make me wet!”
after the sentence i just uttered, he gets up ripping off my panties and throwing them across the room and after that he starts to lick and tease my pussy
to make them understand that I was going crazy with pleasure, I started stroking her curly hair
Y/n = “Hobie… I’m gonna-“
I was about to cum when he spits on my pussy and walks away licking his lips satisfied
I looked at Hobie with a disappointed and excited face, he stroked my cheek and came close to my ear
Hobie = “I will give ya something bigger that will make ya scream for me in pleasure until… you can't get enough”
after this, he lowered his boxers revealing his huge cock which was already dripping with white liquid , as I looked at his length wondering if he would go inside me, he stared at me hungrily
Hobie = “I know what you're thinking baby, but you like a good girl will take it all right?”
when he said this, he brought his cock to the entrance of my pussy, my heart racing with excitement, slowly his cock entered me, I felt a burning mixed with pleasure and he gently gave small thrusts making me get used to his size
Hobie = “fuck, your pussy is so fucking tight, I don't know if I can keep control like this”
he began to push a little faster and deeper, he grabbed my hips tightly and I grabbed onto his shoulders for support
Hobie = “tell me, who owns ya now huh?”
Y/n = “you Hobie! Just you!”
Hobie = “that’s fucking right!”
he began to thrust much harder, each thrust he gave hitting my sensitive spot causing more pleasure on my body
Y/n = “Hobie I don't know if I'll be able to resist any longer…”
Hobie = “please baby hold on a little longer…do it for me I know you can hold on pretty girl”
after yet more deep thrusts, he approached my ear whispering and then licked the earlobe
Hobie = “I will come inside ya…”
Y/n = “Hobie… please…”
Hobie = “you are mine, fuckfuckfuck-“
he came inside me, coming out of my pussy and leaving his seed, he lies down next to me and he laughs hoarsely, I look at him confused
Hobie = “maybe now I'll let ya rest a bit, but don't think we're done... no, we've just started baby”
HOBIE, WELL…
CHILL, DAMN!
I hope you guys enjoyed this post!
WATTPAD: federica2601 = created a story for Hobie brown, name: “you are my muse”
#hobie smut#hobie my beloved#hobie spiderverse#hobie brown#hobie x reader#hobie x you#spider man: across the spider verse
92 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
jaskiersource
#jaskiersource
hoezier-than-thou
stay movin
bitzandbotz
Animatronic Sideblog..!
shinjjiru
5H1N771RU
sangahk
제목 없음