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inuyashaluver · 3 months

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Are we getting any Ona x reader Childhood sweetheart??

mi media naranja (my better half) - ona batlle

ona batlle x reader

description: in which you and your childhood friend watch each other grow up, going through different partners, life stages and miraculously ending up in a surprising result

warnings: it’s a long one - buckle up!! catalan in bold italics, mentions of cheating and tears

a/n: hiya, lovey! i hope you don’t mind that i tweaked this into a childhood friends to lovers situation, i really hope you enjoy❤️

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you and your best friend, ona, were the epitome of inseperable. your special bond was formed by years of shared laughter, inside jokes, secrets and late night conversations that stood the test of time.

you and ona knew each other better than anyone, the years of being best friends proving soulmates existed.

at first you both believed it was platonic soulmates but as the seasons and years went by, so did your dynamic, unbeknownst to either of you at the time.

it began through the subtle shift in stolen glances and unspoken words and conversations lingering in the air, something felt different for both of you.

little did you both know, the journey and progression from being best friends formed the very foundation of your relationship in the present.

—

[ 7 years old ]

it all started in school, a young ona experimentally kicking a football to a lonely you to test out the waters during lunch break.

in the beginning, you were incredibly shy, finding it hard to make friends at the time. her kindness made your heart warm and when you kicked the ball back, you both knew the other would be in your lives forever.

she came up to you and managed to get you to open up, she was pleasantly surprised to find out that you were quite chatty when you talked about something you were interested in. she loved it.

she’d listen to your words intently, each word engraving new lore about you in her mind, making an effort to remember as much about you as she could.

“one day, we’re gonna play together for spain and bring home a gold medal” ona promises, nudging your shoulder with hers as you both sat next to each other on the grass.

you laugh and nudge her back, nodding and holding your pinky up, she smiled cheekily and interlocked her own with yours, a promise you both intended to keep.

everyday at school, you and ona grew closer. your families were so happy with the fact that you’d made a friend so close, both of you at each other’s houses every other day. it just felt right for the both of you and everyone around you.

—

[ 12 years old ]

you and ona were joined at the hip, not even an exaggeration, you were never apart. you and ona had promised each other that wherever the other would go, you would follow in suit.

it was a non verbal promise but something that was just understood between the two of you.

you and ona had been scouted in your local club to join the youth barcelona team, both of you squealing and jumping around on her bed when you both discussed the situation. however, promptly scolded by ona’s mum that had you both in a fit of giggles.

because the two of you played together so often, each other’s playing styles were very much adapted into your own.

ona was a defender while you played in the midfield, the two of you always linking up to score a goal or an assist.

you both didn’t even need to look at each other to know where to pass or aim, the presence of one another being enough to score goals that had people impressed by your performances.

you and ona thrived in the barcelona team, labelled a dynamic duo by not only your coaches and teammates, but the spectators also.

—

wordless communication and care were the foundations of your friendship. the needs and requirements for the other person just feeling like common sense.

“you didn’t rub it in properly” ona laughs, pointing at the streaks on sunscreen left on the skin of your face.

“in case you didn’t notice, onita, i don’t exactly have a mirror” you grumble, attempting to rub the rest of the sunscreen but missing completely, making the brunette laugh even more.

“oh, preciosa (precious)” she teases, roughly rubbing the remnants into your skin causing you to groan and attempt to push her away.

“done” she cheeses out, giving your cheek a light pat before you shove her away jokingly. “you suck,” you stick your tongue out at her and she immediately returns the gesture, making you both give each other challenging glares before giggling with each other.

—

“my house or yours?” ona grins, passing you your water after training. “mhm, let’s go to yours” you smile back at her, she nods and you both chat as normal.

as soon as you got to ona’s, she gave you some of her clothes to change into and you immediately called your family to let them know you’re here and they already knew you’d ask to stay over so they agreed instantly.

you throw ona a thumbs up as she watches you converse on the phone and she pumps her fist in celebration, making you giggle before ending the call.

—

[ 17 years old ]

this was a difficult time for the both of you, it was when you both started exploring the dating world with other people.

ona got into a relationship first with this random girl, she was super nice at first, but when ona would spend time with you, she would get into insane arguments with her, her girlfriend claiming ona cared more about you than her.

and because it was her first girlfriend, she pulled back from you and you only really saw each other at training, and even then, the communication was limited.

you were heartbroken to say the least, losing your best friend over a girl, you decided to give ona a taste of her own medicine and began dating this girl you thought was really nice.

she treated you well, like a princess honestly, you were giddy and all round happier and ona, from a distance was happy for you.

she’d broken up with her girlfriend and she didn’t, well..couldn’t tell you since she rarely saw you. she regretted the whole relationship, it was toxic and manipulative and she wished she never ditched you for her.

but you were happy again and she would never jeopardise that for you. the only thing ona wanted for you was an endless amount of happiness, getting all the love that you deserved.

it was until you found out your girlfriend had cheated on you, coincidentally with ona’s ex that everything fell back into place.

with tears pooling in your eyes, you knocked on the door of the batlle residence with anxiety overtaking your entire body.

ona opened the door with a worried and confused expression, looking down at your kicked puppy expression that was ready to break down at any moment.

“nena? (babe)” she breathes out, a sob escapes from the back of your throat and you rush to wrap your arms around her neck, pressing your face into her collarbone as your body wracked with a heart wrenching sob.

she immediately holds you around your waist, rubbing comforting circles over the shirt you were wearing, saying nothing but just holding you close.

she tries to pull away to look at you but you shake your head and hold her tighter, she frowns at the sounds of your crying, lifting you up by your thighs and hoisting you up on her waist.

she hurriedly closes the door and rushes to her room, sitting on the edge of the bed as you cried into her arms. she whispers sweet words in your ear as you pressed into her.

you hug for a couple of minutes until you pull away, wiping your tears away with the back of your hands as you looked down at her,

“i didn’t know where else to go” you sniff, your nose red and your voice slightly congested. she frowns at you, using the pad of her finger to wipe away the tear rolling down your cheek.

“you came to the right place, this is your home too, i’ve missed you so much” she says softly, making a few more tears leave your eyes while she chokes back on her own. it felt like so much time but no time had passed as you explained the situation.

ona was pissed, making an effort the next day to give both of your now ex girlfriends a piece of her mind.

that’s when you both decided to take a break with dating, focusing on yourselves, football and each other. everything was back to normal and you were both incredibly relieved.

—

[ 18 - 21 years old ]

as the years went by, you and ona only grew closer, you noticed the shift in your dynamic. the lingering stares and touching blurring the line between platonic and romantic.

you tried to think nothing of it, ona was always incredibly affectionate and if anything she was just being friendly.

if only you knew how this girl really felt about you. in love was an understatement but she didn’t and couldn’t say anything, respecting you more than anyone in the world.

she wouldn’t want to risk losing you, her best friend, her soulmate.

it didn’t really help that you both followed each other to every club, barcelona, madrid, levante and even making the big jump to manchester united.

the best friend duo left an imprint on every club you both went to, proving to be unstoppable in every league.

you were both so in tune and synchronised, ona even managed to assist you in a hat trick at manchester united, claiming it to be one of her proudest moments.

she’d hoist you up on her waist in celebration as she kisses your cheek repeatedly as the girls surrounded you in celebration. “mi niña (my girl)” she grins up at you.

you kiss her forehead in appreciation and couldn’t help but grow a little warm at the pet name, as well as the way she was looking at you as if you were the reason the run had risen in the morning. (she truly believed this)

sure you both got asked over the years if the two of you were dating and it slightly hurt to shut it down.

you received numerous questioning expressions when you’d say, “no, we’re best friends” but the two of you chose to ignore. you both didn’t like each other like that. (silly)

—

[ 24 years old ]

it was until you both decided to return home that everything took a turn. your comeback to barcelona as the dynamic duo had been highly anticipated ever since the transfer rumours came out. and when the contracts were finalised and you and ona were promoted together, it went viral.

falling back into the team with new and old teammates was fluid, and exciting. you both felt good about the whole situation, excited for the new chapter ahead.

ona had partnered up with aitana for training because alexia had dragged you away as soon as she could.

“you like her” she teased, your eyes widen and you give her a little slap on the shoulder, “no, i don’t” you grit out, making your captain laugh brightly.

“please don’t tell me you’re this stupid, have you seen how that girl looks at you?” she scoffs, “heart eyes, makes me feel sick” she mocks, you can’t help the little smile hinting at your lips and alexia smiles satisfied.

she prys the details from you and you surprisingly complied. alexia helped you realised that you’ve liked ona for a while, just never coming to terms with it.

you felt lighter after all of it was off your shoulders, thanking alexia for slapping some sense into you.

she humbly accepted as long as she was the maid of honour at your wedding, making you swear on your life that it would happen.

—

ona had also been in her own conversation with aitana. being one of your teammates for years as well as a close friend, she knew ona liked you, she always has.

she would beg ona to confess, knowing that you liked her back because it was just obvious to anyone with a pulse. she’d always shut down the thoughts quickly. but this time, she actually listened to aitana.

“ona, that girl is in love with you and if she isn’t, you can slap me in the face” aitana speaks with her hands, making ona follow the movements as she spoke.

“you’d actually let me slap you in the face?” ona laughs, aitana gives her a stern expression and ona stops, glancing your way to see you laughing with alexia. she smiles at your bright smile, making aitana shake her head and whisking she had her phone to capture the moment.

—

it was a team bonding session at alexia’s house, a dinner, movie, drinks type of situation. ona and you lived together, like always, so ona drove you both over. alexia opened the door with a hopeful smile but faltered slightly at the two of you just being friends when you gave her that little look of disappointment.

she gives you a longer hug than ona and it makes her slightly suspicious, she knew you and alexia were like sisters but she couldn’t help the funny feeling bubbling in her stomach.

she’d glare slightly whenever you and alexia would interact and it made alexia laugh, knowing that tomorrow you’d come to training with a girlfriend.

when you got in the car and saw ona gripping the steering wheel so tight her knuckles turned pale, you glance at her in worry.

“are you okay?” you ask nervously, she looks over at you for a split second before looking back in front. “i’m fine” she says flatly, oh you were in for it.

the rest of the drive was intense and quiet. the tension was unbearable. when you both made it home, ona bolted to her room and slammed the door shut, making you wince. you gave her about an hour to cool off before you cautiously knocked on her door.

“ona?” you say softly, you open the door to see her on her bed just scrolling on her phone, she instinctively moves over so you lie down next to her, staring up at the ceiling as she refuses to look at you.

“have i done something wrong?” you break the silence, ona sighs heavily, “no” she breathes out, turning in her side to face you and prompting you to do the same.

“do you like alexia?” she asks softly, you gawk at her in shock, “what? no!” you exclaim, ona’s cheeks burn a little, looking down to see your hand resting on the bed close to hers.

“why? are you worried?” you tease, ona bores her eyes into yours, “and if i was?” she says full of confidence, your mouth falls open slightly, just blinking as you looked at her in surprise.

both of you are pink cheeked with wide pupils, resembling a full moon. “what do you mean?” you utter, “nenita (babe) you know what i mean” ona says hopefully, you pause for a moment before nodding, your bodies subconsciously moving closer to one another like a magnetic field.

“te amo (i love you)” you say confidently, making the girl in front of you break out into a bright smile, “te amo (i love you)” she parrots, you break out into your own wide smile.

you look at each other lovingly for a moment before ona brings a hand up to cup your face, she glances down at your lips and you inhale eagerly, making her chuckle before she pulled you into a searing kiss.

time seemed to pause at this moment, just the warmth of your breaths and lips mingling unfolding like a gentle melody.

your lips moved tenderly with each other, unlocking the years of whispered promises of love you both never knew you were hoping for. your tongues explored each others mouths and it all felt two familiar, you were soulmates after all.

in that shared moment, the line between friendship and romance faded completely, leaving behind the gentle lull of your now joined heartbeats, the start of forever for the both of you.

—

when you both walked into training the next day with ona’s hand in the small of your back and a gentle kiss to your temple, the room erupted into cheers.

alexia and aitana exchange a high five, a couple of the girls exchanging money making you both laugh brightly at some of the disappointed but happy expressions in the room.

—

when you both went to the world cup and managed to win through a goal from you, ona proclaimed your love then and there, unable to hold it in anymore.

when she pulled you into a loving kiss after that final whistle blew, it was a special moment for tje both of you. especially since you were both fulfilling that promise of bringing home that gold medal.

you and ona’s friendship stood as a witness to the growth and transformation for the both of you. standing as a testament of love that began with the simplicity of a girl kicking a football to you because she thought you looked lonely, forming into a profound and everlasting connection.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you know the drill, just pretend it’s you!!

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ona.batlle: mi media naranja (my better half)

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yourname: mi onita xx

yourname: mi media naranja (my better half)

↳ ona.batlle: pretty baby

alexiaputellas: you two would be NOTHING without me

↳ aitanabonmati: and me!!

↳ ona.batlle: all you two did was make fun of us

↳ alexiaputellas: worked though, didn’t it?

↳ ona.batlle: …….

↳ yourname: she said thank you!

context!! - mi media naranja: the literal translation is 'to find your half orange. ' when an orange is cut in half, the two halves match each other perfectly, but no other orange half is likely to fit so closely’ essentially meaning - your better half, your soulmate

#woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso one shot #woso imagine #ona batlle #ona batlle x reader

583 notes · View notes

lisired · 2 months

Text

dress code

pairing: professor!yuta x student!reader

genre/warnings: smut, power imbalance, age gap, spanking, yuta likes fucking you in your skirts and hitting it from the back, don’t really think there’s much degradation or praise, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (dont be silly wrap ur willy)

summary: Nakamoto Yuta and his rings have caught your eye. In an effort to seduce your professor, you decide to take your best friend’s advice and change your wardrobe. You’re given an advantage when Yuta’s son asks you to tutor him, and it’s like Satan is handing you opportunities on a silver platter - but at what cost?

word count: 7.4k

a/n: ¾ of the Temptation series. feedback is appreciated!

“Who are you thinking about?”

You flinched when you heard a voice direct a question towards you. You turned to your side to see Ten, who instead of apologizing for startling you, leaned in curiously.

Nakamoto Yuta, you wanted to exhale dreamily. To say that you were besotted with your professor was an understatement. In class, you could hardly pay attention to his lectures, eyes too busy swallowing him whole.

Yuta was one of the most handsome men you had ever laid eyes on. His long ginger hair and gorgeous face structure immediately caught your attention, though after time you noticed more and more that he knew how to accessorize himself in a way that best suited his style.

The rings were a personal favorite example of yours - both the ones on his ears and the ones around his fingers. They came in abundance, never no less than two at a time. And not only did they complement his beauty, they were the fuel for some of your classroom day dreams.

“How do you know I’m thinking about someone?”

Ten rolled his eyes, though he wasn’t surprised by your response. It was very in-character of you to dodge the question. “Easy. Your face is in your palms and you were staring into empty space with a love-struck smile on your face. Plus you’re answering a question with a question. Now spill the beans before the lecture starts.”

You sighed, knowing you were caught. Then quickly changed your posture, earning a snicker from the man beside you. As one of your best friends, Ten knew you too well. And as of one of his best friends, you knew he loved drama and other people’s business way too much to be safe.

“If I tell you,” you began, reluctant. “You have to promise you won’t judge.”

Ten winced and said, “I only make promises I know I won’t break, love. And the fact that you’re telling me this alone is an indicator that I am definitely gonna be judging you. With love.”

“With love, my ass,” you groaned. “Whatever. Then, promise me you won’t rat me out.”

“Now, I’m no snitch. Your secret is mine, best friend. Scout’s honor.”

There came the urge to hesitate and hold your tongue, but you knew Ten would press until you eventually opened up. There was no way he would come out of the room empty-handed unless your secret was serious. In a way it was, but he wouldn’t see it as that.

“Fine,” you huffed. His eyes were firm on you and you could feel them, awaiting your answer patiently. You opened your mouth with a sigh and whispered, “Professor Nakamoto.”

Ten burst into a fit of laughter. Loud laughter that drew unwanted attention and stares from confused nearby students. He was red in the face with an arm around his stomach.

With narrowed eyes, you asked, “Are you done?”

Ten shook his head. He laughed some more until he finally calmed down, then finally managed to get a sentence out. “You’re trying to screw Shotaro’s dad? You’re unbelievable.”

“Not screw him,” you replied, then Ten gave you a look that made it clear he could tell that you were lying. “Fine, goddammit. I want him, and I need him to want me. Dunno how, though.”

Your best friend shrugged. “Showing some skin always seems to work. Men can’t resist their temptations.”

You narrowed your eyes. “You’re a man.”

“Which makes my advice more plausible,” Ten shot without hesitation.

Point made. If there was anything you wanted to say after that, the words died on your tongue. You nodded in response. “Touché.”

Even though you would never admit it to his face, it was good advice and you were having a epiphany. As Yuta strutted into the room and bid the class good morning, rings on his ears and fingers, an idea was born in your mind.

You knew how to complement your beauty as well.

As soon as the next day, your plan came into action. You wore shorts that barely covered your thighs and clung to your skin, pairing them with a full-length top to avoid raising suspicion.

Part of your plan was to start slow. Given it was nearly summer, you were offered some leeway and no one would second-guess your apparent change in wardrobe, but too much skin might have become a problem. It wasn’t that you never wore anything revealing, but something of this frequency and extent was typically out of the question for you.

Boys catcalled you in the halls. Unwelcomed attention, but it was a sign you were doing something right. The other sign - one of which you dreaded even more - was your best friend’s reaction as you walked to your seat.

“Holy shit. I see you listened to your best friend for once.”

“I always listen to you. Now shut the hell up, he’s coming,” you whispered, pretending to look as if you were preparing.

Class was typical which was fine, you expected no prompt changes. Your plan would be a gradual progress and you knew slow and steady won the race.

As per usual, you soon became distracted by your professor and began to fantasize. Yuta had a dangerous habit of running his fingers through his locks of hair, which brought inevitable attention to his hands. And thus his rings. Which spurred on your imagination every time without fail.

You thought about Yuta fingering you with his rings on, the surface of the material cool against your clit. The thought made your thighs press together with a shudder. It was always hell to think about your teacher during class because you had no way of relieving yourself, but there was always material for when you got home. Apart from both enjoying and needing the class, that was another good reason to show up everyday.

Soon you sank into thought. Someone like him had to be experienced. For one, he was older. Yuta had never stated that he’d been around, but sometimes he stopped the class to talk about things he did when he was in his twenties - which made you wonder what else he’d done. Then, he was devilishly handsome and you knew for a fact you weren’t the only one who had a thing for him. Yuta was the professor your peers swooned over, you could only imagine how many women his age flocked towards him.

Class came to an end which was fortunate for you. It meant that you got to go home and handle the ache between your thighs. Everyone left without wasting time and you told Ten not to wait for you. He shot you a knowing smirk and told you that he’d seen you tomorrow.

Other than Yuta, you purposely made sure you would be the last one to leave, packing away your materials ever so slowly and pretending to fix your clothes. Yuta never left before anyone and you could feel his eyes burn through you.

“No plans today?” Yuta asked, voice booming throughout the near-empty room. “You’re usually one of the first people to run out the door - and you always sit on the opposite side.”

That’s because I rush home to take care of myself, you thought. Though there was no way you would say that aloud. Instead you swung your bag over your shoulders and moved a premeditated distance from your desk. From where he stood, your legs were on display.

“No, sir. Just homework,” you lied. Of course you had plans, plans that concerned him. None that you could tell him about, though.

Gaze hard on you, Yuta bobbed his head and replied, “I see. Don’t let me hold up one of my top students, then. Have a good night.”

One of his top students. It was impossible to hold in your grin when he said that. Although it was true he was a major distractor when it came to your learning, you’d be damned if you didn’t make it your mission to study hard and impress him. Apparently, it was working.

“Goodnight, sir,” you bid him. Then you made a break for the door. Those plans awaited you at home in your bedroom and you knew that you’d be busy for a while.

When Shotaro approached you, you were completely unexpecting and somewhat fearful of what he had to say.

For one, there was no reason for Osaki Shotaro of all people to be approaching you. Sure, you had your mutual friendships and classes, but you weren’t close by any means and the sole time you recalled having a one-on-one discussion with him was when you were assigned together.

There was no class today. He found you in your natural habitat, the on-campus Starbucks with your laptop on the table and your headphones around your head. You only slung your headphones down your neck when you noticed him sitting across from you.

“May I help you, Taro?” you asked, throwing him a confused glance.

Shotaro nodded, breaking into a smile that you couldn’t deny was attractive. However, you were far too attracted to his father to be affected by his charms. “I got a problem.”

Now you were utterly confused. “I’m no problem solver.”

“Oh I think you are. I could really fucking use a math tutor and Ten told me you’d be my safest option. Said you wouldn’t mind, especially if I paid you up. I’ve been slacking in that subject lately and I gotta get it together if I wanna stay on the team,” the boy told you, albeit somewhat abashedly.

Ten, you slick motherfucker, you thought graciously. The connection between the pair was that they were both on the school’s competitive dance team together. Ten had seriously hooked both you and Shotaro up. Math happened to be your specialty and Shotaro lived with Yuta, his father. Tutoring him at his place would grant you even more opportunities.

“Holy shit,” you winced.

Shotaro nodded discontently. “Yeah, it’s bad, I know. Look, if you’re not down or something it’s all good. I get we’re not that close so it might seem weird for me to come up on you out of the blue. I’ll pay you twenty an hour, though.”

“On second thought, maybe I am a problem-solver,” you replied, much to Shotaro’s amusement. Twenty per hour for tutoring didn’t sound too bad, and plus, there was the firm chance you’d see Yuta. You outstretched your hand and said, “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

Shotaro shook your hand. “Alright, partner. When are you free?”

You told Shotaro your schedule and let him know you’d text him if you ever needed to take a rain check. He told you he’d follow the same procedure and you agreed to meet at his place for your first session on Friday. Satan was handing you opportunities on a silver platter.

When he left, you pulled out your phone and texted your best friend.

Thanks, you cunt, you messaged.

Ten replied back, Yeah, whatever. You owe me one.

That you did. But you were focused on bigger, larger things.

Nakamoto Yuta.

When Friday rolled around, you were beyond excited. Shotaro had warned you in advance that his father would be home and told you not to worry.

And you assured him that you didn’t mind. Little did he know, you were planning what you would wear the moment he let you know. It was a difficult choice. You wanted to wear something that would suit the heat though also not seem too much for a study session. In the end you settled for something simple yet revealing - a cute dress you found thrown away in the pits of your closet.

When you got to Shotaro’s house, Yuta welcomed you inside.

“Shotaro’s not here yet. He’ll be back soon. I apologize on his behalf for keeping you waiting,” Yuta said once you stepped inside and showed you to a spot on the couch.

You chirped politely, “It’s fine, sir. I don’t mind.”

He was quick to say, “We’re not on campus, you can drop the formalities. Call me Yuta.”

That made you blink in surprise, although you nodded nonetheless. It was definitely a step up the ladder and you hoped that you would soon be content. You didn’t want to just say it his name, you wanted him to make you scream it.

“The weather has been getting sunnier by the day, you’re probably thirsty,” Yuta figured, stepping into the kitchen. “Would you like anything to drink?”

“Water, please.”

Yuta kindly brought you a glass of water and you spent the entire time attempting to subtly survey him. When he handed you the drink, you tried your best not to stare at his hands. It seemed as if he wore rings no matter the occasion and they only made his already beautiful hands look nicer.

Then, you peeped his outfit. And simultaneously realized you had never seen your professor outside of formal attire - up until now, at least. That wasn’t to say that you were complaining. Whatever Yuta chose to wear suited his appearance and you could tell he had an impeccable idea of what style fitted him.

“You should learn how to keep your eyes to yourself.”

You blinked in surprise. “Excuse me?”

“You’re too smart to be playing dumb,” Yuta said, sitting to your side. You noticeably gulped in response to how close he had gotten, and his lips curled with amusement. “You think I don’t notice you staring at me? You’re not subtle.”

In spite of the water you were drinking, your mouth began to feel dry. There was nothing you could fix your mouth to say. Not only had you been caught, but Yuta was implying that he had noticed long before now. With that much knowledge on his hands, it would be simple to piece together why you were checking your professor out at every given opportunity.

The little smirk on his lips alone was enough to convince you that he knew your every thought that ran rampant in your mind. There was no other reason you would be looking at your professor so hard - staring concentratedly at his hands and face - if you had no carnal desires.

Acknowledging your speechless state, Yuta leaned in and slid his thumb under your chin, leaving you no choice but to meet his knife-like gaze. “Be good for me and maybe, just maybe I’ll think about giving you what you want.”

The front door knob began to jiggle yet Yuta took his time to pull away from you. He began to sip from his glass and you tried to quickly appear as if nothing had happened - as if your heart wasn’t racing and threatening to pop out your chest.

Shotaro burst through the door and headed straight for the kitchen, a single grocery bag in his hold. “Sorry I’m late. Summer is beating my ass so I went to get ice cream. You want some?”

Shotaro didn’t notice a damn thing.

You just hoped he wouldn’t notice the way his father was looking at you, the same way you could feel him staring into your back.

Over the course of the next couple of weeks, nothing had escalated but the decreasing length of your outfits and the thick tension between you and your professor. There were hardly moments where you were alone and whatever seclusion you did have was always short-lived.

In spite of it all, your plan was so far a success. The longing stares became more mutual and frequent than ever. You noticed that Yuta would unabashedly gaze at whatever bare skin was available to his vision, which came in abundance and less and less was left to imagination. There was no doubt that Yuta had noticed - you just wondered if he would eventually confront you about what was an obvious motive by now. After all, he had told you that he’d think about giving you what you wanted.

If you’re good for him, you recalled. In all honesty, you weren’t sure what that entailed. Between the line of good or bad, you weren’t sure where you teetered in his eyes.

But you hoped that you were good. You wanted to be good. For him. It meant everything that he saw you in the same way you did him, and now that you knew there was a chance you could achieve everything that you had only dreamed of, you were over the moon with thrill.

You wanted Nakmoto Yuta, and you were determined to have him.

Class was typical, as always. Again you were left behind, although not on purpose. A text from Shotaro hindered you.

The text read, Raincheck. I forgot I had practice today.

You texted him back swiftly and began to pack away your materials. But when you made an attempt to leave, Yuta’s voice grounded you in place. “Come here.”

At first you stood there, unable to move an inch. Though the commanding glint in his eyes made you feel as though you were under a spell, controlling you and making you walk forward, and you winded up in front of his desk.

“Yes, sir?” you said quietly.

Yuta shook his head. He said nothing, gesturing with his fingers for you to come closer. And you had no will to disobey him. Playing with the edges of your skirt, you turned behind his desk and made a noise of surprise when he abruptly pulled you onto his lap.

Exhilaration made your heart beat at an impossible pace. It thundered against its cage and made it’s presence known. As much as you had fantasized about your professor in such manner, you felt utterly unprepared for whatever plan ran through his brain. Yuta was inscrutable, that much manifested in the way he taught - unpredictable twists his lectures took that gave good reason for his class to be your favorite. Whatever he wanted to do to you was perfectly unclear, better yet how he would do it.

Yuta hooked one arm around your waist, his free hand leisurely stroking your thigh. He leaned into your ear and asked, “Any plans for today?”

Remembering that Shotaro had cancelled on you, you shook your head. Even if you did have plans, especially any immediate ones, they would have simply had to wait. There was something more significant on your hands.

Yuta hit your thigh and you bit back a whimper. “You have words, use them.”

“No, sir,” you told him, forcing out the words that felt clammed in your throat. He seemed satisfied, moving his fingers from your thigh to underneath your skirt. Suddenly, you were grateful of today’s outfit choice - it gave him easy access.

You gasped when you felt his fingers directly between your thighs. This was it - this was everything you had dreamed of. His rings brushed against you and made you shiver, cool to the touch just as you had imagined that they would be. Which made you wonder what else was up to par with your imagination. Curiosity filled you up to the damn brim and you were eager to know.

“You’re soaking,” Yuta commented, chuckling. “Were you thinking about me?”

That made you feel caught, though as usual, it would have been a bold-faced lie to say that you hadn’t spent the better half of the lecture imagining your professor doing unspeakable things to you. Whenever he was in close proximity of you, a moment rarely passed where you weren’t thinking of him. There was no limit. You couldn’t have enough of the man you craved most.

The thoughts hit you hard as soon as the question escaped from between his lips and Yuta knew he had his answer when he felt you clench around his fingers. The sound of him chuckling should have humiliated you, but your body responded with arousal. It was a blessing that your back was to his chest, eye contact would eat you alive.

“Yes, sir.”

“Thinking about me doing what?” He pressed, but the fact that he was still touching you, pushing his fingers inside made it hard to form any coherent thoughts or sentences. You wanted to focus on what he was doing to your body.

You took a deep breath and said, “Touching me, like this. I…, I always imagine you touching me with your rings on.”

“Mm, yeah?” Yuta hummed. “You wanna know what I think about?”

You muttered, “Yes.” Then, you braced yourself.

“Bending you over this desk and fucking you right in these little skirts you love wearing to seduce me.”

It was safe to say that Yuta had caught on to your shenanigans, but you didn’t care. There was no other thought on your mind except for him, and everything you wanted him to do to you.

“Please,” you whimpered.

Yuta feigned confusion. “Please, what?”

“Fuck me,” you begged. “Please fuck me, sir. I need you. Haven’t I been good?”

That was all it took for Yuta’s resolve to crumble, and in the blink of an eye, he had pushed you overneath his desk. The sound of his belt unbuckling made you tremble with anticipation. All of your patience had dissipated, and so had his. You needed each other.

Yuta pulled your panties to the side and you made a little noise when you felt the tip brush against you. “Ready?”

You gave him the go-ahead in a small voice that didn’t nearly uncover the entire extent of how much you wanted this. When Yuta finally pushed in, the relief you felt then was unimaginable. For so long you had wanted your professor, and now that you had him, it felt like a dream.

Impossible to miss, you noticed Yuta’s grunt when he slid inside you. That alone made you feel like you were soaring. His hands fell to your hips and his rings urged a cool sensation on the area of bare skin.

When you moaned, Yuta lifted one of his palms from your waist and hit your ass. “Unless you want everyone to hear you moaning like a slut, be a good girl and stay quiet.”

Easier said than done. There was too much pleasure involved, too much for you to be able to conceal. You bit your bottom lip, hoping it would do the job. It was the best that you could do to muffle your sounds.

And you weren’t the only one, either. Although Yuta was better at supressing noises, you couldn’t miss the sexy little grunts he made, his grip on your waist tightening with pleasure. It drove you near damn mad hearing him like that. The fact that he was so close to you did nothing to help. He was nearly in your ear, and you felt as if you could implode right then and there.

Without the presence of loud moans, the room was still far from silent. There was the lewd sound of Yuta’s hips rocking into yours each time he pushed back in, and thus your weight slamming against the desk with every thrust, and you loved it. There was something dangerously arousing about it and you were in no mind to care about how obvious you were. Nothing mattered to you in that moment except for Yuta. You wanted him to continue and not stop until you’d both finished.

“Fuck,” you moaned, unable to control yourself. “Harder, please.”

Yuta teased, “Can you handle it harder, baby?”

“Yes, sir,” you squeaked. “Please? I can take it, I can take it.”

Before you could add anything else, Yuta gave in and got rougher. There was no telling if it was real or all in your head, but you swore you could feel him deeper than ever before. His hips met yours hard, pushing deeply. His death grip on you became tighter, as if you would slip away from him if he didn’t hold you as tightly as possible. Every touch of his was practically bruising, just the way you wanted it to be.

This was something Yuta thought he could do all day. Watching you take him greedily was a massive turn on and he could see it becoming one of his favorite pastimes. He loved the way your pussy swallowed him whole. He loved the way you were still desperate for more no matter how much he gave you. The way you were so compliant and eager to please. It was something he could get used to.

“You’re doing so good,” Yuta sighed, voice tickling your neck.

His praise made your knees feel weak, yet so did the sound of his voice. It was like a two for one deal, twice the amount of butterflies swarming in your stomach. The only way things could have been better was if you could see his face, but you doubted you’d survive the moment you saw his expression as he let out a groan.

Yuta lifted his hand again and slipped it underneath your shirt, meddling with your bra and finding your breasts. He gave them a squeeze and you exhaled with pleasure, loving the way his hands felt on your body. You wanted to feel him everywhere you possibly could - no spot left untouched.

Hardly any thoughts roamed in your brain and you were stripped of every ability you possessed to think. All you knew was pleasure, and you wanted more of it. More of him. He was close to you - deep inside you - but not close enough. Never deep enough. To you, there was no existing maximum. There was no brink and only one word chanted in your head. More, more, more.

“Sir, I’m close,” you whimpered out.

Even without saying, every reaction your body made in response to his touch indicated that you were on the brink of an orgasm. You were clinching around Yuta and it became harder to muffle your noises, and you were sure that your lip was bleeding, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care yet.

It was so close you could almost reach out and grab it. The pleasure you felt then was inexplicable. It felt like all your senses had been heightened to an extreme, on an inhuman level. Your body was begging him, screaming for release, needing it desperately.

Needless to say, Yuta was no better than and not far behind you. His grunts seemingly became deeper, and his thrusts became irregular. But he never stopped - he wouldn’t stop until he was there with you, over the edge.

“Come with me, baby,” Yuta growled. He was fucking you like his life depend on it.

Whatever came next was a blur. Your orgasm struck you hard, clouding your vision with white haze, and you clinched around Yuta uncontrollably. The noises that escaped your lips were unpreventable, especially when you felt his cum spill inside your walls. Your body became slug against the desk and when you snapped out of your post-orgasm headspace, you noticed your professor slow and pull out of you.

When you stood back up, you felt his cum leaking from you and trickling down your thighs, and your cheeks grew hot.

Yuta snickered and buckled his pants back up. “How do you feel?”

There was no word to describe how you felt and you were still in a state of pleasant shock. Your thighs began to feel ache from the pressure he’d inflicted on you, but you weren’t complaining. This was the highlight of your day.

“Good,” you replied, straightening out your skirt with your palms. “Sore, but good.”

He smiled wryly. “When do you tutor Taro again?”

“Thursday. He said he would meet me at your house after practice.”

“Good. Come early.”

“How early?”

“However long you can handle getting fucked,” Yuta said with a shrug.

The butterflies were back. Unable to say anything, you gave him a quick nod and prepared to leave, after you cleaned yourself up.

Who would have known that instead of going home to take care of your arousal after class, Yuta would handle it for you. And Thursday you got to do it all over again.

You couldn’t fucking wait.

Part of you wanted to run, but when you rang the doorbell, you knew that it was too late. There was nowhere to hide anymore - Yuta would be coming any moment now.

You were a hot mess of emotions, bursting at the seams with exhilaration and nerves. Of course, there was no doubt in your body that you wanted to relive having sex with your professor. It was everything you had dreamed of and more. Although you also couldn’t deny that you were worried for a billion different reasons.

Relax, you told yourself. You had no reason to worry. There was no way that anyone would find out, Shotaro was utterly clueless and although Ten was certainly aware, you knew there was no way in hell he’d tell a soul. Plus, you looked nothing short of fuckable. With how short your skirt was, Yuta would be unable to change his mind even if he wanted to.

The door swung open and revealed Yuta, who already had his eyes on your body. Without much greeting, he pulled you inside and locked the door behind you.

You squealed while he dragged you into his bedroom, impatience seeping from his calm demeanor. When he let you loose, you stood by bed rubbing your wrist while he shut the door. You complained, “What happened to greeting people?”

“Hello,” he said, walking over to you. He reached for your hand and gave your wrist a quick kiss, then added, “Now lie down for me.”

Without hesitation, you did as told, climbing onto his bed and sprawling yourself out on his mattress. You kicked off your shoes and Yuta crawled between your legs, watching you instinctively spread your legs open for him.

“Black,” Yuta growled once he noticed the color of your panties. “That’s my favorite color.”

There was no way you were strong enough for this.

Yuta tugged your panties past your ankles and tossed them on the floor in haste, starving for you and begging to know how you tasted. His mouth was on you without warning and you sucked in a deep breath the moment you felt his tongue.

To say the least, Yuta didn’t relent. His mouth was impatient, tongue making you pulse more than you already were. It ventured over you, and you cried out, thighs squeezing shut when the muscle prodded at your clit. But Yuta was completely unwilling to be deterred. He pushed your thighs back open and held them spread, and you could feel the cool sensation of his rings digging into your skin yet again.

Moans of his name tore past your lips, urging him on. Yuta took it as sheer motivation, actions unfaltering and seeming to strengthen. You could feel the corners of his lips lift in a grin. It was an ego boost seeing you grip sheets and hearing you moaning his name shamelessly loud.

Wet sounds grew louder. Yuta’s grip on you only became tighter whenever you began to squirm from the pleasure. There was no doubt in your mind that Yuta wad experienced. For as long as your body had yearned for him, no doubt had ever been present, though now that his head was between your thighs and his mouth was anything but shy of your cunt, you could tell.

“Yuta, fuck,” you cried, back in arch. “Don’t stop, please. Please don’t stop.”

Yuta raised a brow, wondering where you had gotten such an idea from. The thought of stopping had never once crossed his mind. He knew what he wanted, he knew what you wanted, and it wasn’t that. He was determined to leave you broken.

It was like nothing that you had ever felt before. People had been between your thighs a number of times before, but something about Yuta was different. There was no way for you to put your finger on it in your current state, but whatever he was doing with his tongue was making you want to scream. You knew then the pleasure he was providing you was unreplicable.

Maybe you knew that the moment you set your eyes on your professor. There was a reason you were drawn to him, wanting him in ways that were illicit. Everything about Yuta had tempted to you, head to toe. In and out. The time between then and now was unbearable. Though you made efforts to distract yourself from the man you thought to be unattainable, no one ever met your standards. And you were completely unable to commit when Yuta was the one in your head. You needed him, or someone like him.

And though you sought for the latter, you were undone.

Nothing could describe how you felt in the moment other than delirious. You were beginning to believe that Yuta had been yours in a past life, that there was no other explanation as to how he seemed perfectly aware of what to do. Then, you thought that somehow, in spite of him being your professor and the father of one of your peers, you were meant to be. It might have been crazy, but that was how you felt.

And Yuta, you drove Yuta crazy. Which felt like an understatement - everything about you made him feel insane to his core. But he couldn’t say that he didn’t like it, or that he was opposed to the feeling. The same way you were tempted by him, he was by you, and he liked having you in the most delicate of ways.

There was no way you would have known, that was if his body said nothing, but he was hooked on you. Just as much as you were hooked on him, if not even more. It wasn’t because he was lonely after his divorce and needed to chew on anything that he could bite, which was simply untrue. Anyone he wanted, man or woman, Yuta knew how to woo his way to them. Though he didn’t want you out of desperacy, he wanted you because of the way you made him feel.

That much he was still in the phase of figuring out, but he knew that it was welcome. That was all that mattered.

“Yuta, I’m so close,” you groaned, entire body begging for release.

Those four words let out a beast in Yuta. It was like he wanted to ravage you, and you found that likely to be the case. Already had he been unfaltering, but it was clear that his efforts were increasing. He wanted to bring you over the edge and he would do exactly that.

“Cum for me,” he said, detaching his mouth from you for the briefest of moments. He let his fingers occupy you while it separated. “You know you want to. Let go for me, baby girl.”

As always, you obeyed. With his mouth on your clit, there was no way that even if you wanted to, you could instruct your body to do otherwise. You let your body be overcome by pleasure, your back in an arch as your orgasm hit. You let out a lewd moan of his name, toes clenching, and Yuta let you hold - much more squeeze - his hand.

It was intense, and Yuta didn’t stop until you had finally gone slack against his mattress. When he pulled away, he could only let the beautiful sight of you fill his eyes. You laid weakly on his bed, chest heaving in result of your climax. Everything about you then screamed fucked out, and he could only look smugly at his achievement.

Watching you made him want to keep going and eat you out little longer, test how much you could handle, but it also made him hard. There was only so long that he could go resisting the urge to fuck you limp and his restraint had dissipated.

“I’m not done with you yet,” Yuta growled, and moved towards you.

All you could see in his eyes was hunger. And when he leaned in and kissed you, it was even hungrier. It was rough and impatient, as if he had been waiting for this moment his whole life.

You reciprocated, kissing him back with the same passionate and letting the heat in the room consume you whole. Yuta’s hands were greedy, clawing at both of your clothes and towing them above your heads. Whatever amount you wanted him he was sure he wanted you more, and he wasn’t ashamed to show you.

Yuta pulled apart from your lips and when you met his gaze, you knew exactly what it was that he wanted. He licked his lips at the sight of you and said, “Hands and knees.”

In an instant, you shifted your body, wiggling your hips in an attempt to make him move faster. You were stripped down to nothing but your skirt, something you realized early on he had a thing for. With how perfectly presented you were, there was no reason why he wasn’t fucking you yet.

The anticipation was killing you slowly. Yuta seemed tempted to start right then, but something delayed him. He reached for something on the bed and slipped a pillow underneath your elbows, a gesture that made your aching desire for him skyrocket.

“Fuck me, Yuta, please,” you begged. “I need to feel you.”

When you felt the head of his dick poke your entrance, you let out a sigh. You were so wet that Yuta slipped in with ease, letting out a grunt when he felt how warm and tight you were around his dick. His rings dug into your skin as his hands clung to your waist.

He begun with leisure strokes to let you accommodate his size, only becoming less shallow the more he thrusted. It was only your second time with him, but you already had a feeling that you’d never get to used to the one of how deeply he stretched you out. Yuta reached places you were unaware of existing.

“I want you,” he groaned. As if you weren’t already at his disposal. Those three words alone had you wrapped around his finger.

Breath hitching, you replied, “You have me. I’m yours - use me.”

Whatever amount of mercy he was trying to spare onto you quickly ceased once those words left your mouth, and Yuta picked up his pace, beginning to fuck you hard. You emit a moan and let him have his way with your body. After your previous encounter, he knew that you liked it rough. Your face was being dug into one of the pillows yet you had no complaints.

Neither did he. Yuta found himself admiring how you took him and the way you felt around him yet again. A welcome mixture of tight, wet, and warm that made fucking you feel like a treat. If you wanted him to use you then he was more than willing to do so.

And there was something about it being you that he was fucking that made the experience like nothing else. He was too attracted to you. As much as you thought about him, he could guarantee he thought about you all the same. In several ways, fantasizing about you in countless positions. But he was going to take his time with you. Knowing you, you weren’t one to shy away from your desires - rather cave in to them - and if he was what you wanted, then you would let him have you. Whatever he wanted, he knew you would provide the best way you knew how.

It wasn’t a one-sided thing. The more time Yuta spent around you, the more fond of you he became. He knew you would bend over backwards, forwards, and every way in between for him, and it was mutual. He was tempted to give you the world.

After all, you were the subject of his dreams. He was crazy about you, and he wouldn’t change a damn thing.

Something was bothering you. It felt good, having him like this, but there was something that you were craving. And you quickly realized that it was the urge to see Yuta’s face. You wanted to see every scrunch of his face, every falter in his expression. You wanted to see his eyes shut and watch how his lips parted as he groaned your name. You wanted to see it all - every minor detail, every fleeting face he made. That was what you desired more than anything.

You tilted your face, just so that the pillow wouldn’t muffle your sounds and called in a moan-y voice, “Yuta…,”

“Mm, baby?” Yuta answered, continuing to rock his hips into yours.

“I wanna - I wanna see your face,” you stammered, hardly able to get words out with how amazingly he was fucking you. He was enjoying the effect he had on you, needlessly to say. “Can I please see your face?”

It was impossible to tell you no. Yuta wanted to give you the world, after all. He would sacrifice his adoration for hitting you from the back if that was what it took to satisfy you. He held distaste for your muffle sounds and not being able to see the mess he was making on your own pretty face anyways.

“Whatever you want, baby girl.”

Yuta flipped you over so that you were lying on your stomach, then entered back inside you with haste. When you finally caught a glimpse of his face, sweat made his hair cling to his face and beads of it damped his skin. It was a beautiful sight you were grateful to witness.

In return, Yuta adored the fucked out daze you casted him. There was nothing he loved more than seeing you like that, in a state of evident pleasure as a result of everything he was doing to your body. He fucking loved it.

You wrapped your legs around his back, desperate to feel him deeper. Yuta only chuckled at the gesture, finding it both hot and amusing that you were so needy for him. It was typical of you to want to feel him to the extreme, you simply couldn’t have enough of him.

“Sir,” you moaned. There were no words to explain how you felt right now.

Yuta slowed his thrust and grabbed your chin, forcing eye contact. “What’s my name?”

Wide-eyed, you stammered, “Y-Yuta.”

“Say it again.”

“Yuta!” you exclaimed, moving your hips in attempts to feel his previous pace. “Yuta, Yuta.”

Yuta grinned smugly, but picked up the pace of his thrusts and said, “And I’ll make sure you don’t forget it.”

Yuta brought his hand to your clit and began rubbing you there, watching how your body responded to his touches. You began to squirm and true to his word, made you cry out his name. You felt like you were on fire, heat consuming you whole, but you wanted it all to spread. It felt too good, Yuta’s thrusts and his hands and rings on the very surface of your skin skin.

“Oh, god,” you whimpered. You needed release, you were chasing after it. It was so close, and Yuta could tell.

“How bad do you wanna cum?” Yuta asked you, growling into your ear.

“So bad. I need it. I need it, Yuta. Please,” you begged. With the sexy sounds he was making you weren’t sure you would be able to delay your orgasm any longer.

Satisfied, Yuta bobbed his head and purred, “Give it to me then, baby.”

The moment you approached your climax, Yuta gave you his hand again and you gripped it fiercely as you emitted a loud, crying string of his name. Your whole body shook with orgasm, toes clenching and your eyes closing shut as it washed over you. Yuta came inside you with a grunt, rings digging into your flesh as he held you and filled you up to the brim. When you both finally finished, you laid on his mattress, catching your breath, and he pulled out.

Yuta tilted his head and asked, “Feel good?”

“Feel great,” you chirped, smiling lazily.

He bobbed his head, smiling back and said, “You didn’t forget what I said, did you? I hope you’re not tired.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, ask if to ask him - Why? The smug look on his face added up to your confusion, and you felt like there was something you were missing.

“Baby, you came here two hours hourly. That’s how long you’re getting fucked.”

Realization creeped upon you, and you recalled the exchange you had back in his classroom. Oh, boy, you thought. He was going to ruin you.

And in all honesty, you were fine with that.

#yuta smut #nct 127 smut #nct smut #yuta x reader #nct imagines #yuta imagines #yuta nakamoto smut #nct x reader #nct #nct scenarios

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bratpacks-aaa · 2 years

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❛ ♡ ❜ ˚ 。 · closed starter for @killforyou .

love is cruel . that much she knows — that much does not require any surmise . patriarch determining he is not ready for the responsibilities that a family , a wife who possessed an adoration to the point of willing to deconstruct terra firma itself for him & a saccharine baby girl with rotund apples of cheeks , is cruel ( finding out he has made a new life for himself on first born's fifteenth birthday is , as well . she is not known for hating other corporeal animas , but there is a girl out there who has the felicitous family noelle craves & she cannot help the way she wishes it was her who had been left behind ) cruel is matriarch taking out the leftover ire from husband's abandonment on adolescent who returns home late one night , gripping tow – headed blonde tresses , once delicate ( had mother ever been delicate with daughter ? had noelle always received this treatment ? she could not tell , proceedings blurring into convoluted chaos ) palm striking countenance so harsh , vats of concealer is applied when aurora breaks . cruel is this moment , football stadium fluorescents & waxing crescent moon blending as one , fabricating dyad even when they do not wish to be , articulation transitioning from somber to vehemence rather instantaneously . cruel is individual herself — had been declared inadequate since the day she exited her primordial pool , but that does not quell the eroded cardiomyctye , nor does it intercept an already calloused zephyr becoming suspended within pulmonary cavity , the need to singe milky epidermis , a tradition individual had adopted when the melancholy was too much for lithe framework too carry on shoulders . doleful hues broadening in bewilderment , congenitally roseate petals are parted , encephalon racing with varying notions — what did i do ? what could i have done differently ? what would make him stay ? what did i do ? ❛ you — i wouldn't even be that upset if you had waited ! why did you have to tell me this now ? ❜ it's a prevarication , she knows that it is — but when words do not descend from other's brims , saline droplets begin to accumulate within waterline . cranium bobbing from left to right , metacarpus ascending to halt any further damage . ❛ good luck on your game . ❜ timbre is monotone , appendages opting to maneuver around sports field , despondency cutting through bones as linoleum aperture displays a wash room that is void of any essence , save for femme & meilleur ami . phalanges gripping at porcelain , a whimper giving way to a sob .

#❛ ♡ ❜ ˚ ｡・ ❪ 𝐧𝐨𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤. ❫ ░ 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐪𝐮𝐲 .#tw / abuse #tw / self harm mention #so i love the way i wrote this first of all!#like i think it was established that they're both cheerleaders and have been since they were little babies! it's something they share with #one another so that is why they're CO CAPTAINS! 🫶🏽#and i think this takes place moments before a super important game with scouts in the crowd so this could not have come at the worst time?#and i have so much i want to say about noelle because i've thought of her so much? >__< i think she will find out she is a lesbian but until #then she puts so much weight on her relationships because she is cassie howard down? she has this desire and need to be loved and the sad #part is she really only feels unconditional love when she's around aubrey and her pas boyfriends who worship the ground she walks on because #she's the sweetest girl ever really? her and zoë are so tied for best girls like she really and truly is season one cassie howard.#but then for reasons beyond her control they all break up with her and seemed so frightened by her and really and truly upset with her but #she doesn't understand why at all and it comes so fucking randomly too which is why she feels so unloved as you can tell by this starter #and her mom being abusive doesn't help at all like noelle was told she wasn't enough since the day she was born and her mom takes all her #anger out on noelle and says the most horrible things so she's probably been told that she'll never be enough or keep anyone or really be #loved and have a long lasting relationship which ellie has taken it in internalized it and really and truly fucking believes that now? >__<#when in all actuality she has someone who loves her so much and nearly kills anyone who stands in her way about her noelle which when you #really think about it noelle coming up to her on her why doesn't anyone love me it's so SAD because aubrey does and she always has!#and i feel like this is by far the worst she's kind of been over this like she was tore up about each guy *yes* but this has been happening #so much it's kind of her breaking point? and he was one of the sweetest most understanding guys she ever really dated so like listen listen.#in some ways you could say that noelle *loved* him and when she experiencing those feelings of love she doesn't shy away from it because she #knows what it is like to feel unloved and like no one on planet earth cares so when she feels that love she shows it off screams it to every #single person she knows even gets the shit tatted! so this npc boyfriend probably has the worst injuries aubrey has *ever* inflicted?#eee i'm already invested! 🤍🤍🤍 so excited for my aubelle we love you aubelle! 🥹🥹🥹

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semisgroupie · 2 years

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oct 3rd: gojo satoru

gojo satoru x fem. reader

wc: 3.3k

warnings: yandere, size kink, stalking, creepy satoru, public sex, fingering (f!receiving), oral (f!receiving), multiple orgasms (f!receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, slight dumbification, satoru is OBSESSED with you, photo taking, hints at violence, bribery, breaking and entering, panty stealing, mention of naoya x fem. reader but it’s very brief

synopsis: having a one night stand with who you think is some random guy in the club might not always be the best idea

Breakups were tough, you absolutely hated them but what you hated most was the numb feeling you felt the weeks following the breakup.

The numbness that would just consume you and leave you walking around like an empty carcass until you found something to fill you. That something always was a night filled with alcohol and sweaty dancing then ended with a quick fuck from the hottest guy you could find at the club. It was something that you’ve gotten used to especially with your most recent ex, dealing with three breakups before you two officially decided that this breakup would be the last time. You definitely needed to find a new way to cope with breakups but until you could find a new method, this one would work just fine.

You shimmied yourself in a new skin tight dress you bought just for tonight and grabbed your clutch purse and made your way out the door. There was a new nightclub that opened up a couple streets from your apartment and it would be a new scene for you, maybe even a new beginning but you weren’t hoping for that much.

You maneuvered your way through the sweaty and drunk bodies that were pressed against each other on the dance floor, pushing away any creeps that tried to cop a feel. When you finally made it to the bar you let out an exaggeratedly loud sigh before ordering your drink. Once you had the martini glass in hand you turned to look at everyone, trying to scout out who you’d let take you home tonight. Before you could really look through the crowd someone immediately caught your eye. He was moving through the crowd, his white hair and beautiful eyes were like pristine crystal orbs, just captivating you as he moved closer and closer. The closer he got the bigger he became too.

Your breath hitched in your throat as he moved to stand next to you, making you look so small next to him. He ordered his drink and you had to fight the urge to press your thighs together and whimper. God, what wasn’t attractive about him? His voice had a deep timbre with the perfect rasp, he even smelled good too, slightly sweet with a tinge of spice.

As he turned slightly you immediately shifted your gaze away from him, not wanting to get caught staring at him like he’s the first man you’ve ever seen.

“You know it’s rude to stare at someone right?” He leaned down to whisper by your ear, hints of mint mixed with alcohol in his breath. Your cheeks burned as if you had a million sun rays inside them. You took a sip of your drink to try to calm down before turning to him.

“Maybe you’ve had a few too many drinks, I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” He laughed and shook his head, it was the poorest retort you’ve ever come up with and he obviously saw right through it.

“Yeah sure, I’m Satoru by the way.” He stuck his hand out and your eyes widened as you placed your hand in his, if he decided to close his fist your hand would no longer be visible. He took your hand to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss against your knuckles before releasing your hand. “And your name?”

“Y/N.”

He smiled and nodded, “beautiful name for the most beautiful woman I’ve seen.” The comment was one of the corniest ones you’ve heard in your adult life but it still caused the blood to rush to your cheeks. Hearing a compliment like that from an Adonis like him no matter how cheesy it was, would fluster you.

The rest of the night was spent with you two drinking at the bar, dancing and led you two to the position where you two were now, against one of the few empty spaces of one of the walls in the club making out. His lips were soft and you could taste the liquor he had off his tongue. His large hands pinned your hips against his, rocking you against him hard enough for you to feel how his cock twitched. To say you were getting wet was an understatement, you were practically dripping down your thighs at this point. Your mind was clouded with lust and you had half a mind to just pull him into one of the bathrooms to finally get what you wanted most. But, you had some class so bathroom sex was off the table unless he initiated it.

He broke the kiss and leaned down to your ear, slightly panting which made your arousal pool even more. “How about we get out of here and head to my place? It’s a couple minute walk, if you could wait that long.” You could hear the smirk grow on his lips before he pulled away so you could see it for yourself.

“Lead the way.” You shouted over the music and he took your hand in his and made his way to the exit. Your heart was pounding in your chest and your clit was throbbing. You needed him badly and by the way he was practically pushing his way through the crowd, he needed you just as badly. You let out a small sigh once the fresh air hit your face, hopefully that would be able to cool your overheated body off. You glanced over at Satoru, finally seeing him in better lighting and your heart started pounding faster. He was insanely attractive, perfectly chiseled and you couldn’t doubt that he worked out with the way his shirt clung to his muscles. He glanced back at you, the smirk still on his face. “What did I tell you about staring, darling? Or do I have to teach you some manners?”

A small whimper left your lips and you broke your gaze, transfixing it to your shoes as you continued walking with him. “S-sorry.” A meek apology was all that could leave you until you two reached his building. It was a luxury building and your eyes widened at the sight of it. He led you inside and walked past the security desk to the elevators. “This is a really beautiful building, the rent must be really expensive.”

He chuckles and shrugs as he presses the button to the elevator. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.” Your eyes widened a bit, this place was extremely expensive, you couldn’t even afford to live in the storage closet with the salary you made. You wanted to ask about his work but all thoughts were brushed aside when the elevator came and he led you inside. Once the door closed he swiped his key card, pressed the button to the top floor, pinned you against the wall and kissed you deeply, almost bruising as his tongue explored your mouth. His fingers slid up your thigh and grazed the hem of your dress before moving up higher to drag his finger along your clothed slit. “Fuck, you’re so wet for me already. Do you always get this wet when a stranger kisses you?” He kissed you again before you could even answer and pulled your panties to the side so he could slip two fingers inside you.

Only if you could really comprehend the falsity in just the word stranger. He was by no means a stranger and you weren’t one to him, he knew who you were for almost a year now but you never met him formally. He has been waiting for the right moment to strike but you always got distracted by some random drunk at the club or your incompetent boyfriend. Only if your guard wasn’t always down when you were out and about, then you would’ve recognized him from the chill that would run down your spine when you were out with your best friend or running around doing errands. He couldn’t forget the first time he saw you, he was new to the neighborhood and was dragged to one of the most popular clubs in the neighborhood by one of his friends, he didn’t want to go but the second he saw you walk through the crowd and thoughts of leaving quickly flew out the window. He was instantly enamored by you but just as quickly as you walked past him, you walked out clinging onto the arm of some random guy.

His blood boiled at the sight, no guy deserved to be in your presence, let alone touch you. So, he went out to follow you and the guy, he kept a reasonable distance between you two and that was when he learned where you lived. The following weeks he learned your frequent spots, where you worked and your routine. Still you were clueless to the eyes on you, the footsteps that followed yours every corner you turned. There were some moments when you felt you were being watched so when you turned around with your keys in hand to see nothing, you just continued on your way. Little did you know he just turned to hide in between some buildings or crouched his large frame behind some garbage cans.

He also learned about your boyfriend, Naoya or nincompoop, same thing to him. The guy was a massive asshole but no matter what he did to you, you always came running back to him so Satoru decided to end your relationship for good. It was easy, just a threat and a little bribe and that was it. But he did feel guilty when he saw the breakup go down, you looked so hurt, so broken and he wanted nothing more than to go to you and put the pieces of your broken heart back together. But he couldn’t, just not yet. He still had some business to handle before he could swoop in and be your superman. After dealing with your past one night stands and your now ex boyfriend he had to get himself ready for you. The main thing was to get rid of all the pictures he took of you and get rid of any clothes stained with the blood of said past one night stands and your ex boyfriend, they weren’t too injured but they knew not to go near you ever again and knew not to go to the police.

Call him old fashioned but he had some polaroid pictures of you stored in his bedside drawer along with some panties he snagged from your apartment. He needed to warn you about leaving your spare key in such an obvious place but that was a problem for another day. He’s had this day planned for months and now he could finally execute it, he knew after one night with him he could snag you in his trap to make sure you were his and only his and if that wasn’t enough to convince you then he had his methods but he was sure his plan would work. It was foolproof.

His fingers pumped inside you at a leisurely pace while you whimpered and moaned against his lips. He wanted to take you right then and there but just as he moved his hand to undo his belt the elevator stopped at the top floor. The doors opened to reveal his penthouse apartment. He slipped his fingers out of you and moved his hands to the backs of your thighs, “jump.” You hooked your arms around his neck and jumped, wrapping your legs around his waist as you met his lips again. He walked inside and kissed you back deeply. His fingers dug into the flesh of your ass as he ground your hips against his. He moved back slightly, panting against your lips, “where do you want me to fuck you? Or should I choose?”

You could barely think, let alone make a decision, “you choose, I just need you to fuck me.” He chuckled and crashed his lips back against yours as he made his way to the balcony. Why not make your first time with him memorable? Plus, he had it planned anyway. He walked out with you and dropped you onto the couch, he moved between your legs and hiked your dress up ‘accidentally’ ripping it in the process then moved down to your panties, ripping those off you and tossing them to the side. He had more for you tucked away in a special drawer anyways. Once they hit the ground he spread your legs and dropped his head down, latching onto your clit and sucking harshly. Your eyes widened and a gasp of his name left your lips. He ravaged you like a man starved and you were in complete euphoria. His mouth licked all over where you needed him most and before you knew it you were crying out his name as your orgasm washed over you but he didn’t stop. His tongue kept running over your folds, cleaning any traces of your orgasm off of you as he moved to rip another one right out of you.

You moved your hands down to try to push his head away, it was pleasurable but it was too much for you in one sitting. “S-Satoru please, fuck I’m too sensitive.” He pulled off and placed his palm over your cunt, gently rubbing into it. His lips, cheeks and chin were soaked in your juices, his pink tongue poked out to clean his lips and he chuckled. “Sorry beautiful but I haven’t had enough. Just let me do as I please and then I’ll fuck you. All you need to do is feel good for me, okay?” He moved his hand away and kitten licked your clit before pressing a kiss to it. “Okay.” You couldn’t deny him and you couldn’t deny yourself, he was someone you needed to fill the void during a time like this. Someone who could make your mind turn to mush and make you forget about everything in the world.

After two more orgasms you couldn’t even think of anything but his name. If it wasn’t for him spelling his name out on your cunt then you probably would’ve forgotten that too. He pulled away from your swollen cunt and moved to undo his pants, he quickly got rid of them and his boxers, showing you his cock. Your eyes widened at the sight, even in your already fucked out state you couldn’t deny that his cock was one of the biggest you’ve seen in a long time. Hell, it was probably the biggest you’ve had.

His tongue clicking against his teeth pulled you out of your trance and you looked up to meet his eyes, now darkened with lust. “And here I thought I warned you enough about staring. It’s not a polite thing to do but I’ll let it slide for now.” He dropped down a bit and hooked your legs around his waist with one hand while the other hooked around the deep neckline of your dress and yanked it down, the thin spaghetti straps snapping from the sheer force. “Oops, didn’t realize how strong I was.” He winked at you and before you could wrack your brain around a possible response he slammed his cock into you. The stretch alone making you cum around his cock, making this your fourth orgasm of the night. “Hm, how many was that now? Three? No, it was four. Hm, I’ll make you six times before I fill you with my cum.”

Without warning he snapped his hips into yours and started pounding into you. You couldn’t even question whether he meant that he was going to make you cum two more times to make it six or if he was going to make you cum six more times on his cock but you prayed to whatever god out there that it was the former, you didn’t know if you could handle ten orgasms. Your ex would only bring you to two orgasms before it was over and when you were alone the most you could bring yourself to was three, maybe four on a good day before you were out of it. But with the way the night was going, you began to think that it would be the latter rather than the former and as his hips continued drilling into yours. After each orgasm he pulled you into different positions, on all fours, on top, in a full nelson so you could see his cock drilling into you, he bent you over the couch and bent you in half in a piledriver so you could feel him even deeper before he lifted you and made you hold onto the railing of the balcony as he pounded into you. You could barely hold yourself and your throat was growing hoarse from all the screaming you’ve been doing.

His hand snaked around your hip and went down to rub your swollen clit, “just cum for me once more, you can do it for me baby.” Your legs shook and if it weren’t for his tight grip on you then you’re sure you would’ve fell, “Satoru! Satoru fuck!” He groaned and continued thrusting into you, “cry my name out louder, let everyone in this fucking town know who’s making you feel like this. Cry it louder.” He snapped his hips into yours harder, each time you screamed out his name. He needed to hold himself back just a little more, just one more orgasm for you and then he’ll fill you up. He could finally mark you as his, finally keep you as his. He wouldn’t need to fight anyone off, he wouldn’t need to resort to any desperate measures to keep guys away from you. He wouldn’t need to bribe the police and doctors to keep the random attacks hidden from the public. All his work wouldn’t be for nothing, he’ll finally have you.

He’ll finally have you.

It took a few more thrusts for you to cum all over his cock which instantly triggered his own orgasm. He dropped his head down and bit down on your neck as his hips continued moving, thrusting all his cum inside you. His arms moved up and wrapped around you tightly when your grip on the railing finally let up. “I got you. I got you.” He pulled out and scooped you into his arms, you were limp in his hold but still had a fucked out smile on your face. He leaned down to kiss you, whether you reciprocated it now meant nothing, the first time your lips met sealed your fate. There was no escape now, you were his and his alone.

“S-Satoru?” Your voice was barely above a whisper as he walked back inside the penthouse to his bedroom. “Yes beautiful?”

“Where have you been all my life? If I met you sooner so much would be different.” He didn’t know what caused those words to fall from your lips, maybe it was all the orgasms and the booze, maybe you actually meant it but it still made his heart swirl in his chest.

“I’ve been around all the time, you just didn’t notice me.” He set you down on his bed and removed the rest of your dress in exchange for one of his shirts. God you looked so beautiful, one picture wouldn’t hurt. Instead of his handy disposable, he took out his phone and snapped a few pictures of you. He changed into pajama pants and laid down behind you, pulling you to his chest. “All mine, you’re all mine now.” This was the start of your forever with Satoru, you wouldn’t need anyone or anything else but him and he’ll make sure of it.

He’ll do anything for you, love knows no bounds and neither does he. Maybe he’ll have to dig back in his bribery stash but that wasn’t important now, now he had you and that was all he needed and it would be all you need.

taglist:@xiao-tings @rubikenss @blueparadis @dangerouspursepeachbear @bubblepopneurotic-blog @brivetaroundtown @sweetenertea @senjuasuna @caramelcandescence @dmwednesday @cherrykamado @thefutureastronaut @asherheed @vharunabi @rzcz

#kinktober 2022 #semisgroupie kinktober #gojo smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo satoru smut #jjk gojo smut #tw:size kink #tw:yandere #tw:overstimulation #tw:creampie #tw:unprotected sex #tw:stalking #tw:public sex #tw:dumbification

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theharddeck · 5 months

Text

start the new year right (jake seresin x f!reader)

pairing: jake hangman seresin x fem!reader (no y/n)

synopsis: what could be worse than a delayed flight with lost luggage? driving back to san diego with your nemesis. and what could be worse than that? the car breaking down in the middle of the night, on new years eve. and of course, the motel couldn't have a 2BR room available...

word count: 8.2k

warnings: 18+ explicit content, minors DNI: explicit PiV sex, oral sex (f!receiving), bc of who i am as a person overstimulation, not the BEST communication/consent, but everything is consensual! it's just implied; normally i'm better about explicitly asking and confirming

A/N: happy new year, friends! what would my year be, if not ending with me sitting down with a stanley of chamomile and writing more than i've written the whole previous month? hope this new year is gentle to y'all.

Natasha: Hey girl! Just got an alert that your transfer flight was delayed? Are you good?

You: ‘good’ as in ‘safe’, ya

You: ‘good’ as in ‘en route’, not so much. They overbooked the flight and the next one they have available is Wednesday morning

Natasha: nooooooo

You: At least my luggage is on its way to SAN… I’m considering renting a car and just making the drive from Vegas myself

Natasha: I love you and I trust you

Natasha: but an overnight drive by yourself after an already-long day is not the move

You: ugh I know, but i don’t know what else to do

Natasha: …mkay i have a solution but it’s not the one you want

You: let’s have it

Natasha: jake’s flight also rerouted through LAS

You: absolutely not

Nat: you didn’t even hear the actual plan!!

You: if it involves me and hangman, the answer is no

Natasha: it’s just a five hour drive, you can be adults/play nice with each other for five hours

You: when has Hangman ever been an adult about anything

Natasha: fair point

Natasha: but he is also currently texting me saying he’s stranded

Natasha: you know one-way car rentals are stupid expensive

Natasha: and he likes to drive so maybe you could sleep on the way

You: stop being logical

Natasha: i do not want to get a call from the nevada state police when you fall asleep behind the wheel on New Years Eve in the middle of the Mojave

You: good, add a guilt trip to the mix

Natasha: is it working

Me: …

You: it’s working

Natasha: (Ryan Gosling!Ken gif: SUBLIME!)

You: lol

You: ugh okay text me his number

Natasha: can’t believe that after 8 months stationed at the same base you don’t have his number

Natasha: mkay just sent

Natasha: you have to promise not to kill each other

Three hours later, you were really glad you hadn’t made any promises to Nat that you couldn’t keep.

Because not only had Jake insisted on renting a truck (“I need the legroom!”), and that you didn’t need to stop in Barstow for gas (“trust me, sugar, I’m an Eagle Scout–I know we can make it to east LA”), the gas-guzzling monstrosity had fizzled out somewhere between exits along the 15.

Now the hood was smoking, there was no way you were getting your security deposit back, and you were just as stranded as you’d been when you first texted Natasha from the airport.

Only now you were in the middle of the desert, and your phone was almost dead.

Four hours later, you had walked three miles back to the last exit and were checking into a truly shady motel, straight up refusing to talk to Jake because somehow, incomprehensibly, the only room available was one with one (1) king bed.

Four and a half hours later, you were dripping wet, trying not to shiver because the shower you took to warm yourself up had backfired, since the motel towels were basically handkerchiefs and your wet skin made the room seem extra cold. You hadn’t wanted to wear your airport clothes to bed, but since your luggage was already in San Diego, that left you with just a cropped tee and boyshorts.

“You okay in there?”

You glared at your reflection in the foggy mirror, since Jake was on the other side of the door.

The audacity of him.

When you’d first met Jake “Hangman” Seresin, you’d been determined to endear yourself to him.

He was a couple years older than you, and pretty close to infamous after that stunt he pulled in eastern Europe a few years ago. He was ruthless and reckless and good enough to get away with both, and you’d hoped that if you befriended him, he could teach you a thing or two during your own time at Top Gun.

And he was ridiculously beautiful, which maybe – maybe – had your admiration veering slightly into crush territory. But you’d locked that down, determined to view him platonically, and not let that get in the way of any instruction he could give.

Of course, the first words out of his mouth had been “Honey, you gotta know there’s easier ways to get your MRS degree than to become a naval aviator.”

Your crush and respect had evaporated on the North Island breeze, and it’d been downhill from there.

You had no idea why, but he had been openly antagonistic at any given moment since then — doubting your competence but disguising it as care for your safety, and tagging a misogynistic “sweetheart” at the end of every condescending sentence. You’d ignored him as much as you could, hoping he’d get that he wasn’t in Dallas anymore, and that shit didn’t fly with you, but that had only egged him on.

But now you were exhausted, cold, stranded in the middle of the desert, and practically naked to boot, and he had the gall to act like he cared if you lived or died.

“I’m fine, Hangman,” you said, swinging open the bathroom door and beelining for the bed, hoping you could get to it fast enough that Jake wouldn’t make a comment.

Or before your tits froze off, at least.

You didn’t look over at him as you dove under the covers, trying your hardest not to think about the last time these sheets had been washed, much less bleached.

Of course, the comforter was tucked into the foot of the bed, and you wrestled with it for a few moments before giving up, and hauling the topsheet up over your body. It was paper thin, but it was a semblance of covering, and you lay stock-still, closing your eyes and hoping sleep would magically deliver you away from this situation.

A moment later, the bathroom door opened and shut again.

You could hear the sounds of Jake brushing his teeth with the toothbrush and toothpaste you had bought from the “concierge” in the lobby (a relic of a man who looked like he did Civil War reenactments for fun, and seemed highly amused by your outrage at the available accommodations).

You would’ve passed the time on your phone, but the last of your battery had given up the ghost while you were in the shower.

A minute or two passed, and the bathroom door opened and closed. From behind your closed eyelids, you could hear Jake shuffle over to the lightswitch, and then he stopped.

You waited.

He didn’t move.

“What do you need, Seresin?” you asked, tersely.

“Are you cold?”

Your eyes popped open, wincing at the brightness of the lights, still overhead. A quick glance down at your body made your skin heat – your tee was skin tight, and the thin topsheet did little to cover you; you crossed your arms over your chest, hiding your pebbled nipples, continuing to stare at the ceiling and avoid eye contact with Jake.

“You could turn off the lights,” you muttered.

Technically, the cold wasn’t his fault.

But it was his stubbornness that got you here, so that had to count for something.

“I was just asking–” Jake started, and you interrupted him.

“It’s the desert in December,” you snapped, “yet, for some reason, this motel has the AC on; of course I’m cold.”

As if on cue, the machine in the windowsill rumbled to life.

You closed your eyes. “Please, just turn off the light.”

The light switch flicked off, and if it were anyone else, you’d have appreciated the immediacy of the response.

But it was Jake, and he didn’t merit any kind of gratitude, so you didn’t say ‘thank you’.

Silence stretched.

You heard a rustling, and a moment later, you felt something land on your upper body. You flinched, pulling the material away from you on instinct, and identifying it by touch as Jake’s sweatshirt.

You opened your eyes, peering through the shadows of the room. The curtains were thin (you were sensing a theme here), letting in lights from outdoors, and you found Jake still standing by the door. He was digging through his backpack, clad in a white tank and boxer shorts, apparently also not wanting to wear airport clothes to sleep, but that didn’t explain why he had chucked his sweatshirt at you.

“What is this?” you asked.

He looked up, shrugged slightly, and went back to rifling through his bag. “I run warm.”

You pursed your lips. “Jake, I–”

“I had a jacket on over it at the airport, okay? Promise, it’s not dirty.”

That hadn’t been what you were going to ask, but you paused all the same.

You appreciated that he was reassuring you, and you did remember that he’d been in a jean jacket at the airport. You’d noticed it against your better judgment, thinking he looked like an A-List actor as he walked through the airport towards you, all broad shoulders and smiles, like you were friends.

“Can I have a pillow?” His question interrupted your recollection, and you frowned in his direction.

You were clearly on half of the bed, Jake could see which pillows were for him to use. Did he expect you not to have one?

You pointed to the pillow you weren’t using, confused, and he laughed quietly.

It wasn’t a sound you heard much from him.

Normally Jake laughed like he was proud of himself, reclining in the golden light of the world around him, blessing you all with his presence. This was a different sound, less pretentious, somehow warmer.

“Yes, I can see it,” he said, his voice still amused. “But I need it over here, for the couch.”

You blinked.

The couch was maybe three feet long, an atrociously patterned aberration that you’d tossed your carryon onto, and not looked twice at. Jake didn’t explain anything further, but there were still only two pillows on the bed, and you couldn’t understand why he seemed to think you didn’t need more context for why he wanted to decorate the couch with one of them.

“Why?” you asked.

Again, that quiet chuckle.

“Because, sweetheart,” he said, and you bristled on instinct, “that’s where I’m sleeping.”

You couldn’t have heard that right.

“You’re not sleeping on the couch,” you said.

“You’re not sleeping on the couch,” Jake said, stubbornly.

“That was never up for debate,” you snorted. “Jake, we’re adults. We can share the bed. You’re not going to fit on the couch.”

“I’m an Eagle Scout,” he grumbled. “I can sleep anywhere.”

“Yes, loyal, brave, clean, etc, I’m sure,” you said. “But I’m not sure how helpful you’re going to be tomorrow, when you can’t drive that monstrosity of a truck due to your back spasming from being rolled up on that couch all night.”

You watched through the shadows as Jake stubbornly tried to wedge himself sideways on the couch. Sure enough, his knees were practically bent up to his navel, and even through the darkness, you could see the furrow in his brow.

“You could drive it,” he said, too obstinate to accept defeat.

“I will not,” you returned, “drive a vehicle that ostentatious.”

“Says the pilot,” he grumbled.

“Naval aviator,” you shot back. “Jake, it’s an enormous bed. Get over yourself, get into it, and the sooner you settle, the sooner it’ll be morning, and we can leave.”

He deliberated, the mulish man.

But eventually he pushed himself off the couch, clambering across the room. The bed dipped as he slid into it, and reached down for the comforter, still wedged into the bottom of the bed. You tried not to be annoyed when he yanked it free easily. It was probably just momentum, or that you’d loosened it up for him. While he was rearranging the comforter, you pulled the sweatshirt over your head, and tried to be calm about the situation.

His sweatshirt was somehow still warm.

It smelled amazing, like cedar and fancy cologne.

And also sweat, which you tried damn hard to ignore.

It was cozy, and you snuggled into it, and a moment later, Jake settled. Thankfully, the bed was big enough that you didn’t have to touch each other, but that didn’t mean you could ignore that he was there.

In bed.

With you.

You snorted, thinking how much of a dream this would’ve been to you eight months ago, before you met Jake, and he dashed your crush to pieces.

“What?” Jake grumbled, and maybe it was the proximity, or maybe exhaustion from the day was setting in, because his voice sounded almost gentle.

“Nothing,” you shook your head. “G’night.”

“Night,” Jake said.

You rolled onto your side, pulling your feet up under you, and folding your hands under your face, so you didn’t have to touch your skin to the pillow. Of course, that brought the sleeve of the sweatshirt to just under your face, and you were surrounded by the delicious smell of it again.

It distracted you for a moment.

Just a moment.

Then you had to acknowledge that, even with the sweatshirt and the newly-added comforter, your wet hair was no match for the chill of the room. Your legs felt exposed and the sheets felt like they were damp and wet, and you tried your best to ignore it, but soon you were shivering.

You tried to be still, you did.

But when you heard the bed shift as Jake turned towards you, you winced into the darkness, unsurprised.

“Sweetheart…” he started, and you shook your head, refusing to look back over at him.

“I’ll be fine, I just need to fall asleep.”

Jake let that statement hang for a moment, just long enough for your shivering to start up again. He cleared his throat.

“Um,” he said, and if you didn’t know better, you’d think he sounded nervous, “I meant what I said earlier. About running warm.”

This time, you did turn over, trying to read his expression in the shadowy darkness. He looked…open. Like he really was altruistically suggesting sharing body warmth, nothing malicious and none of his normal teasing.

You were suspicious, but not enough so that you could ignore that it was a better idea than freezing yourself to sleep.

“You sure?” you asked, and Jake grunted, which you figured was as good a response as any. Actually, it was pretty damn good, because if he sounded eager, you’d be creeped out, and if he was uncertain, you’d feel guilty. But being matter-of-fact about it gave you the courage to scoot across the bed.

“How do we do this?” you asked, and Jake reached for you. It was an easy movement, natural, enough so that it surprised you when he hesitated before touching you.

“Can I…?” he trailed off.

“Sure,” you shrugged, hoping you sounded half as unaffected as he did. This was fine, this was normal. Just a guy who was SO obnoxious that it made you forget how hot he was, suddenly not being obnoxious, and basically punching you in the face with his hotness.

His hand settled on the small of your back and damn it, he was warm. His touch was soft, gentle, almost nervous, and he pulled you closer to him. You realized you’d expected him to turn you over, press your back to his front so that you’d be spooned, but instead he just wrapped you in his arms. He reached around you to tuck the comforter between you and the mattress, insulating you with his warmth.

Your head was in his chest, and with his arms bracketed around you, your breath heated up the space between his tank and your face. He’d even managed to slot his arm under your head, so your face still wasn’t on the pillow.

Cuddling with someone new was usually awkward, a tangle of limbs and expectations, but with Jake, it wasn’t. It was…damn it. It was pretty close to perfect.

“Good?” he asked, and he sounded different, with your cheek on his bicep, and your nose practically pressed against his chest. It was like you could feel his voice, rumbling around you, somehow more comforting for the proximity.

You nodded, not wanting to hear anything new on your voice if you tried to respond.

Jake hummed.

A moment later, you realized his thumb was moving. Nothing major, just a small movement between your shoulder blades, a reassuring stroke. It was a comforting motion, gentle, and it wasn’t long before his warmth and his touch lulled you into a sweet sleep.

You startled awake to the sound of guns.

Not guns, fireworks.

Damn it, it was New Year’s Eve; how had you forgotten?

Jake stirred too, a deep breath expanding his chest, and leading you to realize his head was resting on top of yours, his chin tucked on top of the crown on your head.

“Is that–” he mumbled and how dare he, honestly, how very dare he, because he sounded great. Fuck him, for that, frankly.

The situation washed over you, half asleep and fully cognizant of how random it was. You didn’t mean to start, but soon you were laughing, your shoulders shaking.

“You okay?” Jake asked, a thread of concern in his voice, and that didn’t help any.

“Just the universe’s sense of humor,” you said.

You didn’t know how, but you knew he was confused and you should’ve been worried about how you knew that, how you weren’t cold at all, how if you looked up, you’d know what a sleep-mussed Jake Seresin looked like, but all you could think was that this was so, so stupid.

You took a long breath, starting to explain.

“I just can’t believe this is how I’m starting the next year of my life,” you laughed. “Like, I’m fine, right? I’m doing alright on a career path I love, I call San Diego home, I have great friends and I’m doing as good with my family as anyone could be. And where am I on New Year’s? Stranded in a motel off an exit that’s literally not even town, cold enough that a guy who hates me is cuddling me so I can be still enough for him to go to sleep, with a dead phone so none of my friends or family can wish me a happy new year, and I–”

“Wait,” Jake pulled back, and you frowned at the interruption, “why do you think I hate you?”

You stared at him. “Are you serious?”

“Uh, yeah,” Jake said, having the gall to look confused.

“Jake,” you said, disbelieving. “You’re literally constantly a jackass to me. You’re constantly undermining me, doubting or heckling. You throw in a – frankly overwhelming – amount of southern charm and expect that to distract from the fact that you’re being outrageously patronizing and—”

Jake kissed you.

You weren’t expecting it, and it was so sudden that it thoroughly cut off your train of thought. All you could do was comprehend fleeting sensations and emotions. Jake’s lips were soft, the pressure of them light and teasing against yours. His arms tightened around you, like he was steadying both of you. In the same way you’d sensed his confusion, now you sensed his apprehension, and an unfamiliar determination.

Just as quickly, he pulled back.

“I don’t–” his voice was rough, and he cleared his throat. “Christ, I don’t hate you.”

You licked your lips, annoyed that they had the audacity to tingle in response to him.

You wanted to ask what the hell that was.

You wanted to ask why he was looking at you like that.

You wanted to ask what that expression meant but more than anything, you wanted him to kiss you again.

Your arms were curled up between the two of you, and it took so little effort to curl your fingers in the front of his tank and pull him to you. His mouth was on yours a breath later, and his hand was on your jaw, angling your face so he could kiss you properly.

Of course he was a good kisser.

Fucking of course he was, he had to be, but it was one thing to know it in an agnostic kind of way, and another to feel his lips pressing into yours. You shivered when his tongue swept over your bottom lip and when you mirrored the motion, something in his chest rumbled, and Jake parted his lips for you.

He tasted faintly of toothpaste, and he had some kind of chapstick on his lips that was sweet, and you couldn’t get enough of him. His arms were still around you and he was so warm, so broad, and you couldn’t help but press yourself against him. When your arms wound around his neck, Jake broke away from you. You could feel his chest rising and falling quickly, and his hands fell from your back to your waist, as if holding you in place. He turned his head slightly, kissing lazily at the corner of your mouth, down your cheek, to your jawline.

“That’s not how I wanted to tell you,” he murmured against your skin, and this time when you shivered, you knew it wasn’t from the cold.

“You still haven’t told me,” you managed, eyelashes fluttering at the teasing brush of his lips, while you tried to look at him.

To your astonishment and delight, Hangman blushed.

Sheepish wasn’t an expression you were used to on him, not unlike bashful, but you thought it suited him. He looked like he was gearing up to say something and, curious though you were, you didn’t want to get into that right now. It was late, you were still exhausted, and just a few moments ago, you’d thought he hated you.

If his expression now was any indication, you and Jake had very different conceptions of flirting.

“Look,” you said, before he could say whatever he was hyping himself up to say, “this is probably a lot more complicated than either of us were prepared for. So, it’s the New Year…we could start it how we want the year to go.”

Jake’s shoulders relaxed slightly, and he smiled softly, a sweet expression on his face. He turned his head to kiss the palm of the hand you had looped around his neck.

“Cuddling,” he said, at the same time you announced,

“Orgasms.”

You would never forget the expression on his face.

Sweetness morphed into amazement, and then quickly into hunger.

“I can pivot,” he said quickly, and you lifted your chin.

“You sure?” you teased, “Don’t want to strongarm you into–”

Your sentence ended with a squeal when Jake turned quickly, flopping onto his back, and pulling you on top of him. Your knee was between his thighs and you couldn’t hold back your grin as you looked down at him. Just like with this kiss, he was letting you lead, but being so clear about what he wanted.

And who were you, to decline?

Kissing him from on top of him felt different, felt amazing.

You could appreciate how sturdy he was, and when you relaxed slightly, you found yourself straddling his thigh. You’d been a part of plenty of dogfight football scrimmages, and Jake was never one for longer board shorts; you knew exactly how strong his thighs were. But it was one thing to see them on display, and quite another to feel them flexing between your legs.

One of Jake’s hands was inching under his sweatshirt that you wore, warm fingers spreading across your stomach as you moved over him.

God, he felt so good, so few layers between his skin and your core, and the pressure of his thigh between your legs was so good. You kissed him again, tongues tangling and teeth clashing, as you ground against his leg.

When you moved, you felt the hem of his boxers slide against your leg, and sue a girl, you were curious. You shifted slightly, moving your thigh higher, and when you rocked your hips, your thigh brushed against his cock.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Jake gritted as you moved against him, and you thought maybe you didn’t mind the petname, when he sounded like that.

You braced yourself on the pillow behind him and moved again.

It shouldn’t be this hot.

But it was, he was, and you felt pleasure spooling through you, just from his leg between yours, and his gentle touch against your skin. How he reacted to you, how he moved under you, it was so good, like a promise.

“Not gonna lie,” Jake said, his voice still rough, “I really like you in my sweatshirt.”

Your mouth fell open when he pushed his hips up to meet you.

You both stifled a gasp at the motion, the sensation with so few layers between the two of you. Jake’s hands crept higher under your sweatshirt, almost tentative, and you leaned into his touch, encouraging. His hands cupped your breasts, and your head dipped to the side in relief. He made a sound of satisfaction, just enjoying their weight in his hand, then his wrists moved so his thumbs could brush over your nipples. He rolled them, and you felt it in your core, your thighs clenching.

“Love you in my sweatshirt,” Jake repeated, sounding dazed, “but I wanna to see you without it.”

You leaned back immediately, pulling the sweatshirt over your head.

You missed the warmth of it immediately, but Jake’s gaze was worth it. His expression bordered on reverence, and he actually licked his lips, looking up at you. You wiggled on his thigh, heat pulsing, needing something from him, your skin prickling under his gaze.

Jake frowned, the lust in his eyes overtaken by concern. “Too cold?”

You certainly weren’t toasty, but you couldn’t say you cared.

“I would’ve thought you’d have a solution to keep me warm,” you teased, and Jake seemed to accept the challenge.

The hands that had been on your breasts dropped to the back of your thighs, and a moment later he had pushed you back. You were on your back, feet in the air, and Jake turned you gently on the bed so you were resting on the pillows again. You settled in, expecting him to lower himself between your thighs, and were surprised when instead he reached back for the comforter.

Maybe you had misunderstood, he didn’t actually want…

He pulled the comforter over his head, over your shoulders, and you blinked disbelieving at a Jake-shaped figure under the blanket, moving to the base of the bed, between your legs.

You were fairly confident, but that was a lot to ask from someone on a first date, and this wasn’t even that, and you ducked under the comforter as well.

“Jake, you don’t have to–” you protested, realizing belatedly that there was nowhere near enough light to be able to make meaningful eye contact.

“You said orgasms, right?” Jake said, his voice full of a familiar smugness.

He settled at the base of the bed, crouching, and through the darkness, you could tell he was looking in your direction. His hands were intentional on your legs, letting you know where he was, giving you time to tell him if you weren’t okay with something.

If he was offering, you were beyond okay with this.

“Right,” you said weakly.

His hands trailed up your thigh, his warm touch light, and his fingers closed over the band over your boyshorts. You nodded, a sound he heard because your head rubbed against the comforter.

He kissed your thigh.

It was a feather light touch, a brush of his mouth against the sensitive skin, but it was so gentle that it reassured you. He kissed your other thigh, then higher, and one of his hands felt up to your stomach, and he pushed, an unsubtle prompt. You lay back against the mattress, nerves and desire warring within you as Jake kissed higher.

You felt a brush of his tongue when he reached the edge of your underwear and your breath caught.

“Plural?” Jake asked, and it took you a minute to understand his question.

His fingers pulled at the edge of your boyshorts, peeling them slowly down, his mouth pressing gentle kisses as he revealed more of your body. He was exploring by touch what he couldn’t see, so slow and perfect it was overwhelming.

“There’s two of us,” you managed, back to his question. “Hence plural.”

Jake laughed, a soft exhale against your skin. He’d bared you to him, and you shifted, like you were seeking his touch.

“I know this is new for us, sweetheart,” he mumbled, a kiss to your hipbone, then the opposite, “but that’s not how this is going to work.”

You bit your lip, nervous again.

You were new to this with him, and some guys thought oral sex was some kind of prerequisite – check the box, half ass it for thirty seconds, guarantee she’ll let you hit it – but something told you Jake would be different.

You were panting, anticipation making you breathless.

You whispered his name and it was like he was waiting for permission, because he leaned into you. His first kiss against your pussy was gentle, just as sweet as those kisses he’d trailed up your thighs. It was so sweet it made you squirm, and Jake chuckled, a sound you felt as his breath ghosted over you. He pulled back long enough to draw an audible breath, then his tongue licked over the whole of your cunt, a long, torturous swipe that had you trembling.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he said, muffled, and your hips bucked. “You’re already wet for me.”

You reached under the comforter, your hands tangling in his hair and Jake hummed his approval before following your prompting back to your pussy. He lapped at you, learning you, and when he trailed up to circle your clit with it, you couldn’t stop the cry that escaped you.

“That right, honey?” he asked, sounding smug, and he circled your clit with his tongue. You felt a hand slip from your hip to your entrance, rubbing over you as his tongue played with your clit. He kissed you, teased you, and when he pushed a thick finger into you while his lips closed over your clit, you moaned.

“Feels so good, Jake,” you cried, and you felt him shudder at your voice.

You heard it too, how wrecked you sounded, and it was his fault. Your hips were pushing up into him, chasing the suction of his mouth, the pull of his fingers. He was only a knuckle or so into you, but his finger was so wide, thicker than your own, and you moaned at the unfamiliar intrusion.

It was Jake between your legs, Jake’s wicked smile, sharp tongue, capable hands, Jake who was working you with his fingers and mouth. He felt so good, and your body felt like it was humming to a frequency he set.

You trembled as he sheathed a finger in you, you moaned when he sucked your clit, and when his teeth brushed over your clit, the pleasure coursing through you snapped. Your fingers in his hair tightened, and Jake groaned when you pressed your pussy harder against his face. He groaned like he wanted it, like he craved that reaction, and you came hard.

He coaxed you through it, gentle and steady as he’d been so far, and as you came down, you pulled slightly at his hair.

“Jake, that was–” you gasped, and you felt him laugh again.

“Honey, what part of ‘plural’ is so hard for you to understand?” he asked.

And he pushed another finger into you.

Your back bowed off the mattress; you were so sensitive and it made everything Jake did to you feel so much more.

His mouth traveled down to where his fingers were pressing into you, and he curled them into you. You heard an obscene slurping sound, and your eyes rolled back as you realized he was pulling your release out of you, tasting it from his own fingers.

“Like honey from a honeycomb,” Jake mumbled, his voice thick, and you whimpered at how he sounded.

A moment later, his lips closed over your clit again, and your head thrashed against the pillow.

“Jake, I just–” you panted, but he sucked again and you broke off on a moan. “I can’t, I just – fuck, give me a second– oh, that feels so good.”

Jake either didn’t hear you or he wasn’t listening.

He was following your body, the way your hips were pushing up into him, the way your cunt was clenching down on his fingers, and it was like he was drunk on the taste of you. He suckled on your clit, his tongue laving over you, stoking you higher again. He felt so good, and you were sure you were telling him, but you were fast losing confidence in your ability to form words.

You lost track of time, there was just pleasure, and the heat from Jake, and the way he was working your body.

“You gonna come for me again?” Jake coaxed, pulling back to blow a long stream of cool air over your clit. You flinched, you writhed, you would do whatever he wanted, as long as he didn’t stop. “I think you can do it, honey, it was so pretty the first time. This pussy is so good, doing such a beautiful job coming for me, tasting delicious and I bet you can do it again…”

Your legs felt limp as he licked over you again, tasting where his fingers fed into you, pumping them and pulling pleasure out of you. His tongue flicked over your clit, a maddening pattern, and when his lips closed, he sucked hard. It was so strong, so unreal, and you shook as you came again.

“Ah, there it is…That’s so good, sweetheart,” Jake soothed, and you weren’t sure if he was talking to you or your pussy, and you certainly didn’t know which was hotter.

He continued to stroke inside of you, his thick fingers pulling you through your orgasm, keeping you grounded, keeping your pleasure coming.

You weren’t cold anymore.

In fact, you were burning up, and Jake didn’t seem like he wanted to stop. The moment he felt coherency return to your posture, he dove back in. You genuinely didn’t think you could stand another orgasm from his mouth, and you let go of his hair – he wasn’t listening to you anyways – and flipped back the comforter.

God damn, he was so hot.

He looked up from between your thighs, the lower half of his face smeared with your arousal, and he fucking licked his lips, before smiling up at you. His hair was in complete disarray, and you could tell his whole upper body was flushed from overheating, and he looked so smug, so proud, and he had every right to be.

“C’mere,” you asked, and it was enough.

Grinning, Jake crawled up the bed, caging you with his arms again.

He hesitated, unsure what you were okay with, but you kissed him hungrily. You could taste yourself on his lips, on his tongue, and you felt a sort of possessive pride that it’d chased away the cloying sweetness of his chapstick.

Right now, Jake tasted like yours, and you were obsessed.

When he realized he could, Jake returned the kiss with enthusiasm, his tongue sweeping into your mouth.

Your hands smoothed over his back, curling in the hem of his tank and pulling it over his shoulders. Jake wouldn’t separate from your lips to let you pull it over his head and you giggled as he kissed you through it, like an infinity scarf. You felt up his back, hands delighting in the contours of muscles that you’d only admired from a distance, before you caught yourself.

He was so strong.

Warm and toned and big, intoxicating to think of him over you. Finally, he ducked his head to chuck off the shirt, and the motion lowered his hips to yours. You both groaned at the brush of his cock between your thighs, and then Jake was kissing you with fresh urgency. You hadn’t seen him yet, though he’d had his face in your pussy, and you reached between the two of you.

You felt him over his boxers, and Jake broke off the kiss at your touch, his head dropping to your shoulder. It was like he couldn’t contain himself, and his hips pushed into your touch. You explored the shape of him through the thin cotton, your own hips rocking into him on instinct.

Fuck, he felt big.

You felt a small bit of wetness near the fat head of him, and you moaned as your thumb rolled over the leaking precum, rubbing his sensitive head.

“I have a – shit,” Jake broke off, his hips rutting into your touch, and your head fell back. “I have a condom in my wallet.”

“Of course you do,” you teased, and it would’ve been more effective if you didn’t sound so needy about it.

You turned your head to press a kiss to his cheek, then scooted out of the bed.

The room felt freezing outside of the bed, but it was refreshing, as you darted over to his backpack. You found his wallet, and the condom inside it, and when you got back to the bed, Jake had only moved to push himself up. He was kneeling in the middle of the bed, and he shifted as he pulled off his boxers.

“Holy shit, Seresin,” you whispered, not even caring that your voice sounded reverent.

His cock was beautiful, thick between his thighs, bouncing parallel to the bed. Jake gripped the base of it loosely, like he had to do something while he watched you watching him, and you crawled back to the bed, still staring, kneeling so your knees almost touched his.

“Can I?” you asked, holding up the condom. “Please, sweetheart,” Jake said, his voice so gruff and gorgeous. You licked your lips and ripped the foil, but hesitated before you pulled it out.

“I’m clean,” you told him, sitting back on your thighs. “Um, we should still use this, but I just wanted you to know.”

Jake caught your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your head up to him. He kissed you quickly, short and sweet, and there was something unexpected in his eyes when he pulled back.

“Me too, sugar,” he said, his voice deep. “Thank you.”

You couldn't be sure what he was thanking you for, but you felt like you should be thanking him. For making sure you felt good, for thinking of a condom, for making you feel so cared for. So you tilted your head, reached between you to where he was loosely fisting himself, and replaced his hand with yours.

You pulled your hand loosely over him, obsessed with the warm feel of him, how thick he was in your hand, how heavy. Jake’s hands hovered like he wasn’t sure where you put them, and they settled on your upper arms, like he needed you to keep his balance.

It didn’t stop you from leaning down and guiding his tip towards your mouth.

Jake groaned, a beautiful, strangled sound, and it was lost to you when you first tasted him.

This wasn’t the proper angle for a proper blow job, and you wanted to feel him, but you were curious, and your tongue lapped at him. His skin was scalding hot, and a pearl of precum beaded at the end of his cock, like an invitation. You licked it into your mouth, moaning at the salty, rich taste of him.

Jake’s hand fell to the back of your head, not pushing, but like he needed to steady himself. You licked over him, acquainting yourself with him, learning the veins and sensitive spots, knowing you’d want to come back to them later. Too soon, Jake’s hand tightened in your hair.

You looked up at him, hoping he’d like the picture of you from this angle. His jaw clenched and his eyes fluttered shut, if that was any indication.

“Need to be inside you,” he ground out, and opened his eyes. “That mouth is so sweet, honey, gonna make this be over too soon. I want to feel that pussy.”

God, you wanted that too.

You pushed yourself back up, pulled the condom out, and rolled it over his thick length. His thighs were shaking, you noticed, and it filled you with something like tenderness. That he’d get you there twice, then let you play with him, then say “please”, like fucking you was a privilege.

When your hand reached the base of his dick, condom secured, he surged forward to kiss you. You swayed on the bed, kneeling in the middle of it, his hands cupping your face, yours on his waist. Both pulling, both needing to be closer, and when Jake lowered you back down, you followed his prompting eagerly.

He settled you back against the pillows, back how you’d been when he’d driven you to the stars with his tongue, but this time his handsome face was right over you. When he settled over you, you closed your eyes against the intensity of the moment. You were both fully naked, and it felt so heavenly to have so much of his skin pressed against yours. He was warm, strong, all around you, and you needed him in you too.

You spread your legs, letting him rest deeper between your thighs, and whimpering when his hot cock brushed against your stomach, then down.

“Don’t know how slow I can take this,” Jake said, like he expected you to have a problem with that.

“I want to feel you,” you told him, honestly. “Please.”

Jake kissed you again, pulling back to press his forehead to yours as he guided his dick between your thighs.

You’d had two orgasms.

You’d had his fingers and his tongue loosen you, you were plenty lubricated, but when Jake’s cock pressed against your entrance, you realized it hadn’t been enough.

“Holy shit, Jake,” you gasped, as his fat head pressed against your pussy, waiting for resistance to melt.

“Relax, baby,” he whispered hoarsely, “you can do it…You’re doing so good, just a little bit of give, come on…”

You whimpered at the new endearment, but there was no way. You felt needy, cloying. You could fit him, you knew it, but it felt—there.

He eased in, just a breath, and you felt like sobbing. It was so good, so overwhelming, so fucking tight, and you needed the rest of him.

“Jesus, honey, you’re so tight,” Jake said, he sounded choked, and you loved it.

“More,” you whimpered. “Please, Jake, want to feel you…you’re so big, I need more, please, please.”

“Honey, you can’t say things like that–” Jake gritted, your words driving his hips forward.

You could tell he was trying to go slow, but the feeling of him forcing his cock into you had your legs shaking. You wanted it, needed it, and if begging was the way to get it, begging you could do.

“Want to feel your thick cock, Jake,” you whispered, and he shivered. He was bracing himself against the headboard, and you could feel his arms shaking as he fought to keep from driving into you. “You feel so good, need to feel you so deep…want to come on your cock, please, Jake…come on and fuck me.”

He groaned like he was in pain, as he pressed deeper into you.

He was trying to go slow, trying to be gentle, but you wanted to be mindless, you wanted your whole being centered around the deep push of his cock. You wiggled your hips, and sighed as he sunk deeper.

“Thank you,” you breathed, and his hips punched forward again.

“Jesus, sweetheart,” he muttered, and you would’ve laughed, but you were too overwhelmed.

This was what you wanted, this was what you knew he could give you. Your hands dropped from his shoulders to your breasts, squeezing and massaging your breasts as he sank into you. You turned your head to look up at him, and found him staring, slack jawed, down at you in awe.

“You make me feel so good,” you coaxed him. “Please, Jake…fuck me.”

Jake growled, a sound that came from deep in his chest, and his hand fell between you to brush over your clit.

You jolted at his touch, your hips opening impossibly wider, and a hotter, stronger arousal racing through you than the steady, heavy press of him. Your hips bucked up, and you tweaked your nipples, working yourself up onto his cock rather than pressing him into you. It took a couple more burning minutes, and you were both coated in sweat by the time he was seated in you.

“Baby…” Jake breathed, his voice a dream and you had to resist the urge to purr. He was so warm, all around you, inside you, it felt like he was grounding you.

Then he moved.

His first pump had your back arching, your knees jolting up, your eyes flying open. Fuck, how did he reach that part of you, how was there room, how were you–

Jake laughed, a deep, dark sound.

“That's what you wanted, sweetheart?” he asked, and he moved again. You cried out, overwhelmed, perfect.

“This what you were begging for?” Jake grunted, between strokes, “This what you were asking so prettily for, and now you have me, and what’s that, baby, can’t find your words? What’s wrong?”

Nothing was wrong, not a damn thing, but you couldn’t summon the wherewithal to tell him. All you felt was pleasure, pounding and sweeping, full and as good as eternal.

“This pussy is so fucking tight, sweetheart,” Jake swore, his head lowering to kiss down your neck. He sucked at the skin there savagely, needing a distraction, and you clenched around him, when his lips closed over your pulse point. “Pulling me in, so tight and warm. You look so good around my cock, honey, you wouldn’t believe… Like a dream, like a fucking wet dream, but you’re here, stretched around me, taking me so good…”

You moaned as he found a rhythm.

The headboard was banging against the wall with the strength of his thrusts, and he pounded into you. There was so much he hadn’t said, so much he couldn’t say, but he pushed it into your body, swore it to you. He soothed it over your clit with his thumb, he promised it with his thick, heavy cock inside of you, and you felt yourself falling into it.

“Please, Jake,” you managed, begging again. You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything other than take the harsh fucking he was giving you, and craving it, needing it.

“What’d’ya need, honey,” Jake groaned. “You have me here, so fucking deep, never felt this good, this right—what do you need, baby, tell me, whatever you need.”

Had the room been dark? Surely it’d always been bright light, sparking, blinding.

Pleasure was rolling over you, suffocating, live-giving and you shook your head, moaning with every thrust of Jake’s hips. The only words you could manage were his name, and please, and it seemed to spur Jake on further. His thumb pressed hard into your clit as his hips sped up, and you felt the wave inside you cresting.

“You’re close, honey, I can feel it, can feel how hard this cunt wants to come. Are you gonna do it, baby? Milk this cock, make it even tighter around me, want to feel that, need to feel your pussy twitching around me, sugar, please come…”

Your orgasm shattered over you, blinding and perfect. Your throat felt hoarse from your moans, or your breathlessness, but everything heightened. You felt like you were breathing with Jake, felt every hitch and gasp and shudder as he coaxed you through it. You felt like you were suspended in space, like the only thing there was was Jake’s arms around you and his cock within you and you needed, you needed, him to come.

“Come in me, baby,” you whispered, your voice watery. “Need to feel you, want to feel how you’d fuck me to fill me, please, Jake, it’ll feel so good.”

“Fuck,” Jake shouted hoarsely, his hips thrusting harshly into you. “Oh, sweetheart, you feel too good, you’re so tight around me… I need to come, need to feel– fuck –”

You could feel his thighs shaking, his back tensing, and you turned your head to kiss him as he came. He moaned into your mouth, his whole body jerking as he emptied into the condom. You felt how strong he came, felt how thoroughly it worked through him, and it filled you with pride and satisfaction as he collapsed over you.

You knew he meant to push himself to your side, but you didn’t let him go.

You were just as boneless.

You both lay there, a sticky, sweaty, mess, panting. It was like a dream, a daydream crossed with a fantasy. You were warm, comforted, sated, and the room was still cheap, the motel was still sketchy, but you were suddenly quite alright with this start to the year.

tag list: @cheekymcgrath @laracrofted @callsign-fangirl @bradshawsbitch @bradshawsbaby @withahappyrefrain @hangmanssunnies @callsignspark @lewmagoo @mxgyver @sebsxphia @daggerspare-standingby @ryebecca @teacupsandtopgun @hangmanbrainrot @sometimesanalice @wildbornsiren @whoeverineedtobe @clancycucumber230 @javihoney and i think a couple folks have changed their URLS, so please let me know if you still want to be tagged!

#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin fanfic #jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin smut #misskielwrites

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