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dawnagustd · 1 year

Text

hours || jjk

⇝ author’s note: she’s here, bitches!!!! lol thank you @m1sss1mp and @monvante for putting posters of this man all over my blog. this fic is for the both of you. thank you so much for holding my hand through it all. thank you @baljinciaga for beta’ing and screaming in the comments because you gave me the confidence to post this lol. listen, i’m rusty with the smut y’all so i apologize if it’s a mess. anyway, i hope you enjoy. this has been beta’d but there’s still probably some errors since i changed some things after it was beta read.

masterlist | permanent taglist form | read on ao3

drabbles: the unholy drabble | nails drabble | keeps

“So are you spending the night or…?”

Jungkook props himself on his elbow so he can see you. He uses his fingers to comb some hair away from his face, revealing his flushed cheeks and a horseshoe septum piercing. Ask yourself how many rounds you’ve gone, and you wouldn’t be able to give an accurate answer.

You came over at six, had a beer, did some karaoke, showed him some shit you learned in twerk class, and as some as the Netflix intro came through the tv speakers, your clothes were scattered all over his apartment and your ass was in the air while Jungkook fucked up your guts.

This is kind of a Wednesday night routine for you two. Has been for a few months. You’re just vibing and having fun with your hot neighbor, nothing serious yet. Right?

“As much as I’d like to stay—”

“Pussy.”

Your mouth falls open.

“Excuse me?”

He giggles until you reach for his hair and tug on his strands. You slide closer, trying to intimidate him but he keeps teasing.

“You’re pussy. You’re tapping out,” he repeats.

You scoff. “Boy, I’ve never tapped out a day in my life. Get the fuck out of here.”

Your thumb wipes the little smirk off of his face, but it returns seconds later.

“Your dick isn’t that good. Humble yourself,” you joke.

His cocky ass knows you’re dickmatized, but you still won’t admit it.

“Whatever. You know I’ve been holding back.”

“And who told you to do that?”

“You,” he answers. “Oh, Jungkook! Please, I’ll come!”

You smack his ink-covered arm drawing a chuckle from his lips.

“You’re so full of shit, Jungkook. Okay, let’s fuck again, and don’t hold back this time,” you request.

Jungkook begins shaking his head, laughing at your persistence.

“Love, the only one getting that kind of dick is my girl so…”

“So what are you trying to say?” you ask.

He shrugs. “You tell me. You know I’ve been trying to see about that.”

An eye roll from you follows his statement. “Whatever, I’ve already let you know how it is.”

“Yeah, but I wanna hear you say when you’re not stuffed with cock,” he gripes.

“Well, come here then. I’ll say it in your ear.”

You call him over using your finger, but he doesn’t move.

“You don’t know what you’re doing to me, love.”

You throw the covers off of both of you, kicking the comforter until your legs are free. Jungkook doesn’t move initially when you spread your legs. He stays in a sitting position, letting his hair fall in his face while he smiles menacingly. His Calvin Klein’s hug his thick thighs, creating creases in his flesh.

“Well, show. Teach me. Make me aware,” you tease, using your foot to caress his calf.

“Careful, baby.”

His throat growls those words, his voice dropping octaves so low your pussy clenches.

“Why? Tired, hm?”

“You know that’s not it,” he chuckles.

You’d be lying if you didn’t admit your pussy gets wet just looking at him. Imagine being hot inside and out. That’s Jungkook. A gentleman, and the cutest weirdo immediately after. The sex is just the cherry on top.

You two just clicked, and the rest is history. Whether you need someone to act an absolute clown with or someone to fuck your brains out, Jungkook is that guy. You can’t keep your hands off of him, and he can never resist the chance to slide his dick in you.

“I don’t. So make me understand.”

“Ai yi yi,” he sighs. Then he looks at you and shakes his head. “...so much attitude.”

“Fix it for me.”

Jungkook nods then swiftly pounces on you. You start giggling, knowing you’ve struck a nerve.

“You’re pushing it, you know.”

“I don’t care,” you retort.

Jungkook smirks. “Oh, you will.”

He lowers his body, leveling his face with your pussy. You can feel small puffs of air leave his lips and come in contact with your center.

Jungkook brings two of his fingers to your entrance and prods teasingly, getting you riled up almost instantly. You grip the sheets and lift your lower body off the bed to chase his digits, but he doesn’t push in.

“Still wet for me?” he asks. Jungkook spreads your folds to examine your arousal, looking at you when he discovers that you’re soaking. “Damn, you are.”

The sound of your slick as your opening widens makes your cheeks burn with shame. You turn away, but Jungkook doesn’t like that.

“Uh, uh. You wanna get fucked, you gotta watch,” he says.

Reluctantly, you give him your attention and you immediately regret looking away. His messy hair and puffy eyes give you butterflies as you wait for his next move. You almost forget about how close his face is to your cunt.

Jungkook’s fingers slowly slip into your pussy. You gasp while they sink deep into your crevice. He knows the exact route and the perfect arch in which he must curl them to make your body quiver with pleasure.

Hearing your arousal filling the room entices both of you and Jungkook becomes eager to pick up the pace. Your hips buck and move in a circular motion to match his movements, creating a familiar build-up of pressure within your core. The sheets below you start to dampen from the juices dripping down your center.

“You’re so hot,” he whispers before he kisses your clit. “And you taste so good.”

Jungkook makes out with your bundle of nerves while his fingers pump in and out of your opening. His hair covers his face, much to your disappointment, so you gather it all and keep it contained in a makeshift ponytail.

Now that his face is visible, you can see the way his tongue swipes your pussy each time his lips part. You moan his name, swelling him with so much pride he can’t help but smile briefly. His fingers slide out of you but only so he can kiss lower and fuck you with his tongue.

The deeper he enters, the more pressure his nose places on your throbbing clit. His septum piercing tickles your center as he rubs his face in your pussy, creating a pleasant sensation that penetrates your core.

Quickly, you lose control over everything. You can feel your stomach tightening, hear your moans getting louder, smell the desire growing stronger but you’re unable to grasp the one thing you so desperately want. It’s so close, but then, Jungkook snatches it away.

“Fuck, you asshole!”

Jungkook suddenly stops just as you’re reaching your peak. He withdraws and leaves you a whining mess while he laughs.

“Oh, now I’m an asshole?” His smirk never fades while he removes his underwear and tosses them on the floor. “I think I’m a gentleman.”

He looks over at the nightstand and sighs defeatedly.

“Fuck, man.”

“What?”

“Out of condoms,” he mumbles. “I’m sorry.”

You shrug. “It’s fine. I’m on the pill. We’re good.”

“Are you sure? I can just finish—”

“No, just pull out, dude. I wanna get fucked,” you insist.

“Well, yes ma’am. You don’t have to tell me twice.”

Jungkook hooks his arms under your thighs and pulls you on his lap. He keeps one hand underneath your thigh while the other one grabs his dick. You prop yourself on your elbows and watch as he strokes his cock a few times, using your arousal for lubrication before he aligns with your center.

The tip probes your entrance until it’s nestled inside and he no longer needs to hold his shaft. He redirects his attention to your clit, and he massages your bud as he buries his cock inside of you.

“Shit!”

Your back arches and your fist punch the bed. Inch by inch he fills your pussy until he can’t fit any more of himself inside of you. The fullness you feel from his girth leaves you breathless and panting.

“Still so tight,” he whispers. “...feels so good.”

Jungkook hovers over you when you lie down again and kisses you, leaving the taste of your pussy on your lips. His tongue slips into your mouth and arousal coats your tastebuds. Your moans are muffled but are still clearly heard. His name escapes your lips repeatedly as you beg him to fuck you.

“Ready?”

You nod. “Yeah.”

Another kiss graces your lips and then another for your chest. He moves to your breast and does the same to your nipples, but envelopes the right one between his lips and suckles it tenderly. Your arms wrap around him to bring him closer as he starts nibbling your sensitive bud with his teeth.

He starts to move, setting a pace that has your toes curling instantly. You bury your face in his dark strands and beg him to keep going.

“Jungkook, please don’t stop. It’s so good.”

“I’m not,” he promises, sending waves of vibrations through your areola. His mouth feels so warm and moist against your skin. Hair raises along your flesh caused by both the chill of the room and Jungkook’s gentle touch. It’s a contrast from the way he roughly thrusts inside of you, but it’s the kind of fire and ice that has your body yearning for more.

As if he can read your body language, he changes his position. A lewd noise pierces your ears when his lips release your stiffened nipple. The cold air makes your skin tingle due to the sensitivity and the presence of his saliva.

Jungkook wraps his hand around your throat, forcing you to keep your eyes on him. His fingers comb his hair away from his face, revealing his flushed face, his pierced lip tucked between his teeth. The intimacy of the moment intensifies the pleasure growing inside of you, and your watery eyes begin to produce thick salty droplets.

“Feel good, baby?” Jungkook quizzes. “Does it really feel that good?”

“Yes, Jungkook. It…”

Your voice is so weak and raspy. You have difficulty speaking clearly, and articulating your sentences. Jungkook is very displeased.

“Speak up,” he requests. He slaps your tits, leaving you trembling and hanging on by a thread. Your pussy clenches around him, and he responds by squeezing your throat. “You feel that?”

You croak out a response. The best you can with your airways being constricted.

“Good,” he grunts. “That’s how my dick feels inside this tight fucking pussy.”

He loosens his grip and air finally refills your lungs, making you lightheaded. Your head starts spinning, your vision becomes blurry, and slowly the familiar feeling begins to form within your gut. Grabbing Jungkook’s arm, you try to warn him, but you are immediately dismissed.

“Nope. I’m not done.”

Jungkook opens your legs wider and his thrusts deepen. It’s like he’s trying to fit his entire dick inside of you, but each time he runs out of room.

You can feel him entering your guts over and over. The blunt outline of his cock is faintly visible whenever it lodges itself in your womb. Your muscles clench tightly as you try your hardest to keep it together.

One thing’s for certain, he has been holding back. Now you’re addicted to this new side of him, and there’s no other way you want him to fuck you. It feels like no experience you’ve ever had; you can’t get enough, but your body can only take so much before you lose control.

“Ah, shit! You’re fucking tight.” Sweat drips from Jungkook’s forehead as he struggles to hang on. He’s drawing this out; savoring the moment just like you are, but both of you are nearing your peaks, and it’s only moments before you topple over the edge. “I want this forever.”

“You have it, though. I’m not going anywhere,” you promise. “I’m yours.”

“Oh, fuck.”

Jungkook’s movements stutter when he hears your voice speaking to him through your soft moans. Your words are like a match igniting a flame deep inside of him. He begins fucking you harder, like he’s on a mission to ruin you.

“Shit. Come on my dick, baby,” he moans, probably waking the neighbors. “Make a mess.”

At his command, your body gives in and chases the pleasure it’s been longing for. You scream his name like it’s the only word you know. Your soul leaves you lying on the bed and elevates to the ceiling, probably even further. You tremble and shake beneath him as the coil snaps inside of you, sending ripples of pleasure shooting through your veins.

Your arousal gushes out of you with enough force to push Jungkook’s dick out of you. He slaps your pussy repeatedly, milking you dry while he strokes his shaft. As you lay there, squirting out the last of your orgasm, you slowly return to your body, but you’re still basking in your post-sex daze.

“Flip over.”

Jungkook turns you on your stomach and straddles your thighs. He strokes his cock while he stares at your ass, still tender from all the spanking he did early. He slaps it with enough force to get a muffled moan out of you. Your head remains buried in the pillow because your body refuses to move an inch.

“Softest fucking ass on the planet,” he mumbles. “And all mine.”

You relax under his touch as his large hand begins to massage your flesh. You become more exhausted as the seconds tick by. Jungkook’s pants and moans fill your ears as he chases his high, and soon his breaths become shallower, indicating that he’s approaching his release.

“Fuck.”

Moments later warm droplets of his cum paint your ass while Jungkook cries your name. He plops on top of you, careful not to use all of his weight, and leaves kisses along your shoulder. When his breathing settles, he gets up and finds a shirt to clean your body. He covers you with the blanket when he’s done so you aren’t cold.

“Are you still with me?” he asks, and you giggle.

“I’m here.”

“Well, I wish you’d say something.”

When you turn your head in his direction, you find him standing there in all of his naked glory, his dick slowly deflating, but still standing at attention while he chugs down his leftover beer.

“Maybe you should drink some water,” you suggest.

He puts the mug down and raises a finger. “You’re absolutely right. I’ll be back.”

When Jungkook leaves, the door remains open and someone else enters the room moments later. You don’t even flinch when Bam jumps on the bed, claiming his spot at the end. You’re just glad he’s finally warmed up to you. At first, you think he was a little jealous, but you guess he realized that with you in the picture, he receives two times the love and attention.

Jungkook’s footsteps make their way down the hall and he’s shocked by the sight of his pup lying beside you when he enters the room.

“I see you two have finally become friends,” he points out. He walks over to the bed and gives Bam some love while he whispers to him. “Don’t steal my girl, dude.”

You giggle and shake your head, as if Bam would ever leave his side. You’ve noticed that he has been more drawn to you lately, but you think it’s just him getting used to you being around. He knows you aren’t going to steal his dad from him, so now he’s more open to spending time with you.

“Did you bring me some water?”

Jungkook nods. “Of course.”

He gives you the water bottle and you sit up so you can drink some. Jungkook sits beside you and waits for you to finish.

You know he’s about to ask you something, so you quickly gulp down your water to get it over and done with.

On cue, he speaks.

“You still haven’t given me an answer.”

“Ah,” you sigh. “I don’t know, Jungkook.”

“That’s not an answer. I mean no is fine, but I just wanted some kind of idea about where this is going,” he states.

You’ve thought about it, and dating Jungkook isn’t a bad idea. You’re just nervous because this is going so well and you don’t want to mess it up. However, the advice your friend gave you a week ago still plays in your mind.

“If you really need more time, it’s fine but I feel like you’ve been holding back too. I want you in my life, Bam wants you to be his mom, and—”

“Jungkook,” you interrupt, fighting back a smile, but you fail.

“What is it?”

You set your water on the nightstand and grab his hand. You absentmindedly trace his tattoos, while you talk to him.

“I’m nervous because I don’t want this ‘honeymoon’ phase to end,” you start. You can see his shoulders droop because he thinks this is bad news. However, it's not. “But every day we grow closer, so why should I let my mind prevent my heart from being happy?”

“You are so fucking trashed,” he blurts out. “Did I really fuck you that good?”

“Jungkook shut the fuck up. I was trying to be deep. Leave me alone.”

You try to turn away and go to bed but he pulls you on his lap.

“Hey, I’m kidding. That was cute,” he says. “I got it. You like me, and I like you. Let’s just continue to take it slow.”

“Thanks.”

“Mhm. But just so we’re clear, you’re my girlfriend now by default because we just… Well, you know.”

“I’ll be that,” you reply. “As long as you’re my… boy boy b-b-b-b-b-boyfriend.”

When Jungkook rolls his eyes, you erupt with laughter, knowing he doesn’t want to admit he likes BTR.

“Whatever, go to sleep.”

“In my bed, or yours?” you ask.

“Don’t start.”

You both snuggle together on the dry side of the bed while Bam snores peacefully at your feet. Jungkook hugs you from behind and the two of you slowly drift off to sleep.

“Goodnight,” you whisper.

But your boyfriend has already tapped out. Looks like you’re the real champ around here.

thank you for reading! if you enjoyed this story, please consider reblogging and/or leaving feedback.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts x reader #jungkook imagines #bts imagines #thekpopuniverse #bangtansorciere #bangtanbathhouse #kvanity #jungkook fanfics #fic: hours #sugakookitty

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rafeandonlyrafe · 4 months

Text

stupid baby

words: 600

warnings: toxic/manipulative rafe, fighting/arguing

“its seriously not that big of a deal!” you shout, chest rising and falling as you glare at rafe, arms crossed over your chest.

“you're right, that's why you just need to listen to me!” rafe yells back.

it's a stupid argument, one that only started because you were tired and rafe came home frustrated.

“you just want me to do everything you say, you don't even care about me!” you flop down onto the couch, burying your head in your knees as your curl up, tears falling down your cheeks as they finally spill over, unable to blink them back any longer.

you hear rafe audibly sigh. you've gotten into little fights before, minor arguments that never lasted more than an hour at most, and he's never made you cry before.

“baby-” rafe coos, sitting down next to you, putting his arm around your small frame, tugging you into his body. “don't cry.”

“i hate fighting with you.” you whine, pressing your face into his chest, moving so you can climb onto his lap.

“i know, and none of that would happen if you just agree with me in the first place stupid baby.” rafe says softly, the harsh words not cutting as hard with his sweet tone. you sit up on his lap, rubbing the tears off your face as you sniffle.

“i only tell you what to do when it's to protect you. i want you to be your own person baby, but i also need to look after you and sometimes just need you to listen. okay?”

“yeah.” you nod. “i love you.”

“i love you too kiddo.” rafe says, petting his hands over your thighs. “and i hate having to yell at you, so please don't make me do it again.”

“promise.” you nod, snuggling your chest into rafes, wrapping your arms around his shoulders while he holds you close to him.

rafe presses kisses to your shoulder and neck, nuzzling his nose into your skin.

“i don't even really remember why we started fighting in the first place.” you admit shyly.

“me either.” rafe chuckles. “either way, im glad we worked it out.”

“me too.” you hum, sitting up straight. “maybe we can just chill out? i know we were talking about going to a party but i just wanna stay home with you.”

“that sounds good to me baby.” rafe says, also tired out from the fight and knowing you need to spend some time alone. “why don't you go change into something comfy and then we can cuddle and watch a movie?”

you nod, getting up off of rafes lap. you hurry up the stairs, walking past the mirror and remembering why your fight started. your dress is riding up high on your thighs, and it's fitting you like a second skin. rafe said you couldn't wear it out and when you pushed back for the first time in your relationship, it turned into an all out fight.

you shake your head with a laugh when you realize that the dress not only is too tight and small, but it doesn't even look good on you, hugging your body in all the wrong places while hiding what you want to show off.

you change into pajamas, tossing the dress right into the trash.

“rafey.” you call when coming down the stairs, taking his place on his lap. “you were right about the dress.”

“im always right, honey.” rafe says, like he knew you would come to this consensus.

“next time ill just listen to you.” you promise, giving rafe a kiss before turning to the tv, grabbing the remote to pick a movie for the night.

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#rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fic #rafe fic #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron x reader #rafe x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe fanfic #rafe cameron x you

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jjungxkook · 2 years

Text

blackout | jjk

⇥ pairing: roommate!jungkook x reader

⇥ genre: best friends to lovers, roommate and college au, fluff, crack, smut

⇥ rating: 18+

⇥ warnings: swearing, he’s just a bit of a fuckboy, bickering, swooning over/thirsting for jk (🤷‍♀️), a manually induced fake blackout? dunno those 2 are odd k, they play uno, a lot of spending time in the darkness, kook has no chill, teasing, consent, dirty talk, fingering, cmnf for a while, sexual tension, oral (both receiving), shower sex, choking, hair pulling, reader cries a bit, jk likes to praise, dry humping?, pussy and tits slapping rip (and some ass ig), making out🙄, manhandling, jk loves her tits and ass and plays with them (a lot), he’s sweet but cocky too, protected sex, dom + big dick kook

⇥ wc: 14.3k

⇥ author’s notes: this is a repost from my old blog!! i may repent for my sins. also i do not know why this is so long, i thought it would be 10k rip please i apologize. anyways, i really hope you like it!! i’m very stoked to find out what you think😶‍🌫️

⇥ summary: Utility bills shooting up like this should be an international crime. Luckily, Jungkook has the perfect idea(s) to save up money and make your night sinfully unforgettable.

–

pt1 || pt2 || pt3

–

The hardness of the bench is tiring out your ass.

It’s incredible to you what tribulations you’re ready to burn through just to keep your best friend happy and satisfied. The blazing noon sun is steaming your scalp, even though in the middle of fall, it really shouldn’t.

Fingers wrapped around the edge of your seat, you lean forward and squint your eyes. You make out the energized individual running across the field immediately. Nevermind that he promised you football but you got soccer instead.

You wouldn’t dare to complain, though. In the summer heat, lopsided beams and big, dark puppy eyes refresh you like the late night Tequila Sunrises you love so much.

“Are you playing or taking a walk?” You yell from where you watch. Childish howling and woahhhhs echo across the field, fists pressed against round mouths and eyebrows skyrocketing.

They strive off anyone’s praises, really, but your unfaltering coaching pushes them forward a good, humongous step. In fact, you only recognize about a handful of the players, though there aren’t that many anyway.

No one running around down there cares much about authentic formations. The game usually played with eleven screaming, pumped members on each side only consists of four per team today.

It’s entertaining: The constant curses that always evolve into dramatic compliments, the loud and ambitious handshakes when they score, and the testosterone dissolving in the air, but only after the scent has wafted straight into your nostrils.

And the verbal invitations Jungkook hands out to you every week with pouting lips might play a role, too, yeah. He doesn’t like to make you wait like he does right now, but he doesn’t necessarily enjoy distance from you much, either.

A buff man in his mid-twenties, attractive beyond Greek gods’ appearance, highly determined and ready to indulge in new hobbies – relies on you, even after years of independence.

Seeing you watch and cheer him on boosts his already steadfast ego, and he’s never failed to let you know that, “It feels different from when other girls scream my name.”

You wish you could take it as a compliment, but the consistent ambiguity in his (bitter)sweet words fatigues your heart. The beat of it is not so consistent.

The crush has been omnipresent since you learned the first steps of stupid algebra, but lately, something in your lower belly has shifted weirdly, too.

Today, the shift shows in the way you clench the edge of your seat.

You hear the boys announce the end of their groundbreaking, world changing match, though you can’t recall who won, and observe the languid steps Jungkook takes toward the bench.

Energy slowly dwindling, he puffs out a deep breath, unaware that something inside you dies when he throws back the damp hair. His white, sleeveless shirt is sticking to his broad, firm chest – the refined pecs, abs and bare arms might not have triggered your embarrassing drooling if the last weeks hadn’t changed your perception of him.

There are, for instance, the filth-riddled noises when he’s fucking one of his occasional flings to the moon. Or how those exact same groans of his repeat when he heaves something that perhaps does not even require this low ass growl.

The sounds when he’s repairing something at your place or stretching after waking up. How you wish you could add to those sounds by delivering your very own, unique version of the female moans you usually hear from his room.

You could blame it on sex deprivation, or you could blame the outrageous line of his jaw, but you think the walls of your pussy have deformed and become dick-shaped. Welcoming a certain something that's definitely better than your beloved toys, according to the sounds at least.

This yearning feels kind of weird.

Jungkook has stopped not too far from you. He lifts his inked, veiny hand to wave and then reaches for his bottle to hydrate. And hydrating he does – in a way so alluring that you think he’s doing it on purpose.

Flashing the jawline of nightmares, he cuts you from afar. Sharp, more hazardous than in his teenage years. A phenomenal bone structure, accentuated by the shine of the tiny sweat drops. Shimmering golden skin.

When he drinks, you see his Adam’s apple bop even from here. His bicep is hard, bangs falling into his eyes, and his pink lips wrap around the bottle so prettily…

Thirst.

You and he both know how it feels.

Your mouth shuts close before he can notice. Instead you cup your hands around your mouth and call out to him.

“You do know we have an appointment today, right?”

“Your dick appointments can wait,” he yells back. When you roll your eyes to the back of your head, mumbling gross, the dork chuckles. “I’ll be done in a sec.”

He wraps stuff up, running back to his friends, and claps his hands before giving everyone a last handshake-bro-five-mix. The fondness you feel watching his social side bloom is blissful torture.

Jungkook grew up as a timid caterpillar, shying away from crowds and public gatherings. Opening up took a while, so you can’t remember when he went through the process of metamorphosis to come out prettier than a Cramer’s Blue Morpho butterfly.

He's still somewhat introverted, but doesn't back away from parties anymore. Red cups fill with intoxication. Bodies sashay past him, some toward him to fall into his grip.

You don’t want to be envious – so you’re proud instead. You enjoy when he’s liked by someone, love how the others grin at him. A likable and soft person like him taking over hearts left and right either platonically or not is kind of attractive to you.

“I’ll wash up,” his voice declares when he’s standing next to you. “And then we go.”

“Aren’t you gonna take a proper shower?”

“Yeah, later tonight. College showers are gross.”

Your conversations are a constant repetition. The way you act around each other, your gazes and your actions were bound to become a routine – if not during your time growing up together, then certainly when you began searching for a place to share.

So his response doesn’t surprise you. Neither does the further waiting on the bleachers, pulling in your knees, draping your arms around them to press your cheek against them. Daydreaming and watching or listening boy after boy leave the field.

Despite the familiarity of everything, you still feel different these days.

–

“After last time, I feel like you’re asking for too much.”

The man, not exactly happy about missing a live match of tennis but not quite grumpy today either, leans against the frame of his door. White, wet tresses peek through his dark mane, an indicator he just showered to enjoy the calm day you interrupted.

Jungkook’s hair was as wet as his when you left the bleachers too, now fully dry as you stand in your old but cozy building.

How could it not be?

Considering the dozen stops between campus and your home, you could possibly dry an entire laundry in that time. Both of you are at fault, though – one of the million things you’re good at doing together is wasting money on stuff you might not necessarily need.

Convenience store, pharmacy and a flower shop to buy yet another succulent for your room. Jungkook pouted and frowned at you for the entirety of the convenience store visit when you told him the landlord thing wasn’t an appointment per se, but that he knew as well as you that you needed to sort things out.

Things being the impossible utility bills that keep you up at night. Things being both your stupidity to still halt in front of shops to acquire things like parsley and cheese.

Remembering just this idiocy and looking at the power your landlord’s eyes hold, you’d rather look at Jungkook than him.

At the shiny hair tips hanging into your friend’s eyes. The oversized gray shirt that could potentially hide the body he sports underneath, but his fingers are holding the strap of his rucksack, and the pull at his shirt is enough to make the lines of his chest visible.

But this afternoon is not about brooding over the edges of his torso. It’s about confronting a landlord who fortunately didn’t meet you in a hazardous mood despite his firm plans for tonight. He doesn’t complain about the weather today or seem elated because he found yet another new hobby, like he usually does.

He looks almost neutral, you think. You can’t read him, actually.

“Yes,” you confirm, exchanging a look with Jungkook. “It does sound like a lot, but you know you can count on us–”

“Dunno. You don’t seem to remember last time.”

The taunting tone riles you up, but the numbers on your bills haunt you enough to keep your calm. This is no time for an argument.

You take a breath and shoot another glance at Jungkook. His eyes are tremendously big and lips pressed together to an innocent, uplifting smile. He seems to sense your irritation, too.

“We do,” you confirm. “But c'mon, that's not fair. We’d just started living on our own back then. You know, no guardians to take care of us and all, so it was bound to happen.”

Not just that. The reason why you asked for postponing rent payment was because the two of you had been too eager and too stubborn to ask anyone for money. Ending up only providing half of the rent for almost three months wasn’t something you did on purpose.

But while you should’ve been more cautious, to some degree, it wasn’t entirely your fault. You had more college debt than you could afford only half a year after moving to this apartment, and Jungkook’s earnings weren’t close to what you needed.

“I really don’t know.” Yeah. The man’s doubts are kind of valid.

“C’mon… You know us, Mister Choi,” Jungkook tries this time.

“That’s why–”

“You can…” You suddenly interrupt, only noticing how things might backfire once you’ve already said them. “You could end our lease if we don’t pay you what we owe you this time.”

You think you can quite literally hear Jungkook’s heart stop next to you. At least that’s what his wide eyed, confused stare suggests when he moves his head to you. He’s voicing something in silent hesitation, but Choi most likely doesn’t notice.

Because before Jungkook can throw in his own–probably very unsure–two cents, hand coming up, the landlord sighs. He shrugs his shoulders, mumbling your last names, contemplates for a second longer and then… Agrees.

“Okay,” he says with a not-my-problem-nod. “That’s an idea I can work with. This month’s and at least half of next month’s by the end of the upcoming month, alright?”

You hate the constant repetition of the frightening word month, but on the inside you still jump and clap in joy. Both your and Jungkook’s expressions light up, your feet shifting as though you’re about to jump Choi and tackle-hug him to the ground.

Instead, you only gasp, clearing your throat and cheer, “This is! More than we expected! Thank you so much. Thank you for real for real, seriously, wearesosuperth–”

A palm stops the fast flow of your gratitude, and he only shakes his head and bids you goodbye with a thumbs up before he disappears behind his door. You think you see a fond smile, but your happiness might just be inducing pictures.

But who cares anyway?

Phase One of Saving Money turned out successful.

–

Once you enter your humble apartment, tension releases out of your mouth with your sigh. You slip your bag off your shoulder and into the corner next to the entrance, shoulders dropping. Every second with the landlord took a year from your lifespan.

Jungkook, always happy-go-lucky, isn’t as demotivated and grumpy as you. His steps carry him to your kitchen without a second thought, immediately scavenging the small space for an easy meal.

“What do we do now?” You whine, leaning against the dining table.

The sun is still up and it will remain hanging in the azure blue sky for a few more hours. But you dread the darkness that will descend after – not because it scares you, but because it means you’ll have to light up rooms for ideal navigation.

But lighting them up means raising the numbers on your electricity bill.

Jungkook, however, doesn’t pay much mind to your shattering financial situation right now. He’s humming at the pots and seasoning he’s scattered around on the counter, calm as ever, because worrying about something he can’t change right now is not something he likes to do.

“First, we eat. Am starving,” he decides.

A slight shake of your head suggests frustration, but the grumble of your stomach agrees with him as though to remind you of feeding it. He side eyes you and smirks. “I’m not doing or talking about shit until you’ve eaten something.”

Of course. Caretaker first, friend second. If you’re not on the receiving end, you’re the one giving.

You push your butt off the dining table and choose to introduce Phase Two of your mission, telling him, “I think we’ve candles somewhere.”

The conversation changes at once when you release your suggestion into the air. Although you might argue you’re still stuck on the same issue, given the intention that lies behind your idea.

“Are we– Ouija board stu– again?” You hear Jungkook call from the kitchen, every other word chopped off and eaten by the sounds of pots and dishes.

“I’m not ever doing that with you again,” you exclaim back.

“Huh? Why not?”

“You were moving the planchette!”

Granted, there was kindness in his cheating. The evening drained you out of energy and left you a nervous mess, eager to speak to your favorite late grandaunty and her deceased dog. Neither Jungkook nor you believed in the magic behind the practice, but he made sure to soothe your nerves anyway.

You were pissed when you noticed what was going on – but once the anger subsided and gave way to the realization that he really cared, you fell asleep with a smile after all.

“I swear on my favorite hoodie that I didn’t,” he defends.

“Lying son of a bitch,” you whisper, laughing to yourself as you kneel in front of a cupboard storing a few dozen candles and other shenanigans.

You choose one scented, thick one for each room, and then a few smaller, regular ones that you think must do. With a handful of them, you return to the still bright living room, placing each one where you want it later tonight.

You’re serious about your candles – the tongue poking out, eyes squinting in concentration kind of serious. Arranged in a rational way, you beam at your artwork, impressed by your own idea as if it’s not something human beings used to do all the time.

“Seriously, you’re so easy to excite,” Jungkook always reiterates.

Once you join him in the kitchen, preparing not only a meal but spontaneously baking a treat too, time passes significantly faster. In hindsight, you didn’t do that much today, but somehow it still feels like you sailed the world.

You barely realize when several topics have shifted and the sun has disappeared. The moon hangs bright in the dark sky, the brisk gust blowing in through the open windows. It was a pleasant day of the week, even though you kept freezing at his touch even while cooking, and you’re ready to finish it just as lovely.

Only, it doesn’t end at dinner and the day’s exhaustion.

“Dessert tastes better in bed,” Jungkook tells you once you’ve done the dishes and cleaned the kitchen. Since tidying up, you’ve suddenly become quieter than before and his eyes squint like they’re testing you.

“Okay? Then go and take it with you.”

“And you?”

“What about me?”

He shrugs his shoulders, blowing a raspberry. “You’ll go and sleep already?”

“No, but…” You hum and think. It’s not that late just yet – and you don’t feel like tackling homework or any other taxing task tonight. “I do wanna eat dessert, too. Just thought we might chill in the living room.”

“I mean. Take it as an informal invitation to spend some time with me, but in my room. You don’t wanna?”

“Pervert,” you lightly hit his shoulder with a cloth when he winks. “Is that how you court other ladies?”

“Why, yes. What did you think?” He laughs when you shake your head dramatically, pulling your shirt back and further over your clavicles. “Nah, I was thinking of… Just chilling, really.”

It’s not the first time you’re joking in a way like this. It’d also not be the first time of you hanging out with him in his room, on his bed, giggling about stupid jokes or ridiculous cartoons. Or whatever.

But it’s one of the first times the thought renders you nervous. Like you’re perceiving him as more than your best friend just now, after all those years of harmless platonic cuddles.

When you don’t answer, he delivers another decisive argument. “My room is smaller. Less candles. More to spare for the next time!”

You’re not surprised that he sees through your little idea – rather baffled how easy it is for him to sway you. So you follow him to his minimalistically organized room, not one but two diffusers on his desk. The corner of your lips twitches.

The more you near his bed, the more your heart strikes. His mattress is soft and cozy, and Jungkook’s scent oozes from every inch of it. You feel engulfed in his presence so bad that the emotions of this noon and the last few weeks hit you like a brick.

“Wanna watch something, Pumpkin?” Jungkook asks once you’re draped in the comfort of his duvet.

He might never stop calling you that. Probably hasn’t let a day pass since elementary school when your mom and you decided to dress you as a damn pumpkin for Halloween.

“And waste precious battery life?” You scold with a cocked eyebrow. Your voice is quieter now that you’re cuddled in with him, but you try to maintain your cool.

Turning on the living room TV or light is out of the question anyway. No regular Thursday movie night this time. Blasting Disney’s version of The Sorcerer’s Apprentice for the hundredth time can wait.

With the no-technology-rule you established today, even unplugged devices shall remain for emergencies as long as possible.

“So we’ll act like it’s a full blown blackout, yeah?” He asks before he leans over you, pulling open the second drawer of his bedside cabinet to rummage through its content.

The small action forces your body backward, pushing you against the headboard so tight that your lungs fail. He looks unsuspecting, drenched in the warm light of the candles. You breathe him in unintentionally, and he smells of soap and cologne.

Wrapped in darkness next to him is already strange as it is, but it cannot compare to the oddness of how new his proximity feels.

You barely notice what he’s fished out until he waves it right in front of your frozen expression. An old deck of Uno greets your vision, the packaging as worn out as the cards that he pulls out.

He places them on his large palm before he begins shuffling them – staring at the smoothness he operates with makes you almost miss what he asks.

“Is that good enough, then?”

“Mhm.”

“Cool,” he holds the cards to your face once more. “Are we playing with seven or ten cards?”

“Take it up a notch,” your feeble voice allows. “Make it fifteen just for funsies.”

“Why did I know you’d say that?”

You shrug your shoulders, imperceptibly shifting away from the touch of his arms and hips. “Remember one thing, Jeon.”

“Yeh, yeh,” he taunts, his voice strained. He sounds as though his body is beseeching him to lay down and drift off – but something about the moment seems to be keeping him soberly awake. “I won’t let you win this time.”

Fifteen cards down on your lap, you lift your hands from under the blanket, pulling your set close to your face in utter distrust. You cock an eyebrow at the universe’s choice: Jungkook has either already broken his promise, or the gaming Gods have decided this round’s end already.

With the victory residing in your hands, his vow pretty much slips your mind immediately; it blends out how he still remembers your middle school matches. He really still recalls when you’d fume and burn – disappointed and livid when he’d reveal his picture-perfect deck, unused to accept defeat.

The game doesn’t even properly progress when the first argument of the night pops up. More than half your cards are still in your hands, both your words overlapping.

“Once you lay down a 4+ or color card, you’re not allowed to play again. It’s my turn,” you insist, his wrist in your firm grip as if he couldn’t break out of it whenever.

“I am allowed to play, though.” When he swings his hand, yours moves with him. Both your stances are upright, eyes blown wide and comically riled up. “Especially after a 4+. You're blocked.”

“This doesn’t sound right.”

“Look.” He slaps his cards with the logo upwards into his lap, sifting through the rest of the deck to draw out a yellow stop card. “Would you be able to play on if I hit you with that?”

“No, ‘course not.”

“And 4+ cards work the same way.”

You keep staring at the bright color, lost in thoughts and traveling back to a time when the world around you hadn’t altered every rule of every game you knew. But when no productive result flashes through your mind, you suggest something else.

“Google it, then.”

“You can’t just read the rules? Hold up,” he pulls out the instructions from the package, already fiddling with the paper. “I bet the answer is hidden somewhere in there.”

“Have fun. I can’t read in this darkness for shit.”

Relying on technology for a minute shouldn’t cause a cataclysmic event, so you type in the million dollar question plaguing both your mind, soon striking it rich when a video materializes on the page.

Too lazy to skim yet another amateur post, you decide to trust WikiHow’s explanation clip, hoping for a fruitful result. Jungkook soon gives up the task he bestowed upon himself, cuddling closer to your misery to watch with you.

“Are we serious?” He breathes, laughing off the peculiarity of the moment.

“Watching a video on Uno rules?” You ask, giggling in unison with him. “I fucking know. We’re seriously weird.”

“How long’s it been since we played games together like that?”

You can’t say for sure.

“When we got this place,” you assume. “Didn’t we spend half the night going through board and card games? Because–”

“Because there was nothing else to do. We were sitting on the ground on some shit ass mattress.”

You laugh. It’s been a while – time truly does pass when you’re stuck with someone. You don’t think you’d ever trade the memories you gathered here for anything good in the world. Piggyback rides and cooking mishaps are a delight to store in the depths of memory.

Or moments when you very clearly, very softly realize that you’re falling for your roommate bit by bit; so much deeper than when you were still kids. For him and his touch. His sensuality, even when it’s unintentional.

Like now.

Jungkook grabs his water bottle from his side of the bed as the voice of the narrator chimes. The background is a bright green and the animation weirdly cute, but you blend it out when he reminds you of the plushness of his lips again. Wrapped around the bottle head…

When you reach the wild card moment, both of your ears perk up before you erupt in simultaneous chaos. Jungkook half chokes as he attempts his one-syllable-argument.

“See!” He exclaims.

“See what? He said, if the player can’t play any of their cards, blah blah... Which, in our case, is me.”

“No, but what player? The one who had the wild card? Or the other?”

“Fuck it,” you curse, clicking away without finishing the last minute. “Another video. WikiHow sucks.”

“Why do I feel like we’re both right and wrong?”

You shake your head in defense and with a furrow between your eyebrows, but the dorky grin on his face pulls out your true, playful emotions in the form of a laugh.

The next clip you settle on goes on for longer, seemingly endless – allowing you enough time to peek at the smooth curves of his silhouette.

His lips are jutted and the moving pictures reflect in his eyes. His button nose begs to be booped. A small dimple appears when the tip of his tongue pushes through the seam of his lips to hydrate them.

You don’t think you’re as subtle as you’d like to be, though. Because soon, he’s looking up, causing a sudden flinch. “What’s up?”

“Nothing.”

He blinks at you slowly, one eyebrow briefly twitching. “Oh. Are you bored?”

“No! Why?”

“Are you okay, then?” Your tongue flits along the inside of your cheek, muscles stiffer than before. He eyes you up and down. “You’re so tense.”

“It’s just… Just weird,” you stutter. Hesitancy breaks the flow of your usually confident speech, and you flick your inner self’s forehead for the obvious awkwardness. “Sitting in the dark.”

What?

What the fuck.

You need to get yourself together and come up with a wittier response. If he just let you – because he prods, “Are you scared?”

“Wha– Do I look scared?”

“You don’t look normal, at least.”

“That’s rude,” you scold, letting the device fall onto the blanket. Numerous wrinkles decorate your forehead, hiding your true thoughts behind frisky surface-annoyance.

His next words do not freaking help.

“Girls usually like me in the dark.”

“That’s…” Heat of an exploding star warms your already blistering cheeks. “That’s pretty lewd of you to say. And unnecessary, too.”

You’re pouting like it’s the first day of sex ed. Innocence expands your pupils harder than the lack of light in this room. Jungkook can’t help it – fondness engulfs his heart. You’ve always been endearing to an immeasurable degree.

“You’re so cute,” he drops casually. He’s amused by the side eye you give him, laughing when you exhale and rub the sweat off your hands on the blanket. “But seriously, what’s up with you today?”

He nudges your shoulder as a joke, and you hate that years of friendship couldn’t prepare you for a dark, emotion-altering night like this. Hormones and an adult’s desires are the devil’s advocate as much as Jungkook is himself.

“Nothing!”

“Have I done something weird?”

“You’re always weird.”

His shocked gasp dramatizes the moment, lifting the tension in the air enough to overshadow your inept breathing. Any attempt to keep your chill could turn out futile any moment now.

“Fair,” he laughs. “But also rude.”

His soft palm sets upon your knee and the plea you utter to your mind to calm your nerves falls on deaf ears. At his touch, you flinch just a fraction… And immediately, he pauses.

His gaze skyrockets to your seemingly sinless one. Lips part in confusion before his expression changes – like a bulb has lit up in his mind.

And then, the biggest change in topic occurs.

“Could you give me my phone charger?” Lifting his device, he lights up the screen to show the red, drained battery bar. He points to the bedside cabinet again. “First drawer.”

Right.

Jungkook doesn’t keep his charger plugged in at all times like you do. Scared it might burn off. You didn’t expect less when you decided to move in with your best friend, though: Not from the boy who declared his fear of microwaves and their potential to melt dishes ages ago.

You open and hunt through the drawer, surprised at the half emptiness of it until your fingers graze something you might not have anticipated. And then you realize…

Ah. Oh.

What if…

Perhaps that was the plan all along. Because when you look back at him, he doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest. The calmness in his eyes is telling enough to guess his intentions – but you don’t want to assume for sure yet.

Your touch remains on the little–open–box for a second, one sealed package peeking out. An absolutely fresh condom… One of Jungkook’s no less.

What’s happening today?

“What’s up?” He asks, and you almost huff at the stupid, fabricated innocence in his stupid, soothing voice.

“I think,” you lean back, attempting a laugh. “I just found your most prized possession.”

“Ah?” He waits, and you nod. “Is that weird to you?” A nonchalant shrug of your shoulders spurs him on, the tilt of his head perilous. “It’s not the first time you’re seeing those, right?”

Ugh, yeah. You remember all casual visits to drugstores. The vivid image of Durex’ extra large Excite Me, and true to Jungkook’s dedication dotted for extra stimulation.

He usually cares as much about embarrassment between the both of you as you do when you place pads and tampons between his stuff. Why is it weird, then?

“Yeah. It’s just…” You’re stumbling for words. Fuck. It’s over for you. “Reminds me of some of your escapades lately.”

Jungkook hums. “Mhm. There weren’t that many these days, though.”

“I know. Just made me think of those that did happen, y’know?”

“Okay.” He’s still looking at you like he’s solved every piece of the riddle you are tonight. Not any less shameless, though. “Then… What exactly is it that you’re thinking about those escapades?” Huh… There are too many details you’d need to omit in your answer. But the way his stare is stabbing questions into you as if he already knows what you might say?

Yep. You’re fucked.

“Now?” You ask.

“Right now.”

“Nothing.”

God, even he must be bored of the constant repetition. What does nothing still mean in reality? Everything. That’s how your inner translator interprets it, at least.

This time, Jungkook doesn’t let your response slip. His hand, however, does. Up from your knee… Right to your thigh.

The blanket still lays in between, its fabric pivotal for the moment. If it wasn’t there, you might faint. And something in you says that the experience isn’t far.

“Is that what it is?” Jungkook whispers. His voice is deeper now, and so is your sigh. “That must be what it is.”

“Hm?”

“You’ve been tense ‘cause of that? Since soccer training you’ve been looking at me like I’m suffocating you.” Shit. Of course he’d notice. “And now you suddenly feel weird about being close and about condoms? Do you just…” He digs his index finger into your thigh, his cut nail raking your leg with too many layers in between. “Just miss being touched?”

“By… By you?”

“No, Pumpkin. In general.” You don’t have an answer to his quizzing. Or, you do, but you don’t know where it might lead… Nervousness clogs your throat. “Don’t you…”

“What?” You think you can foresee what he’s going to ask, but you put on a curious act anyway. Then, he drops the bomb.

“Don’t you touch yourself?”

Oh God. Someone tell him to shut up. The little workers in your brain are setting your internal office on fire, handling his lax conversation worse than you.

“I’m…” You pause to breathe in shakily, and then laugh to hide your bewilderment. “Of course I do. Everyone does.” You clear your throat. “That’s a really freaking weird and sudden question, though.”

“Not that weird considering how you’ve been acting today. Thought it’s PMS, but you just called in sick ‘cause of your period last week.” Damn, Sherlock. Of course he’d remember – your whining wasn’t subtle after all. And he was the one serving you every meal all day. “So I’m guessing… It’s been a while and things are just worse tonight?”

“Dunno.”

You’re blinking at him. He’s built a Chinese-Wall-strong barrier at the front of his mind, and you can’t peek through it to understand what he’s thinking. Or what he wants. What he wants you to say or want.

It’s incredibly suspicious to you… And kind of tempting.

“Not gonna lie,” Jungkook’s voice drops to a low whisper, his confession worse than you expected. “I think I heard you a few nights before.”

You rip your eyes open in surprise. Your heart runs up to your throat to start hammering against your vocal cords, and for a few syllables, you can’t do much other than stutter and gasp.

“You fucking creep!” You then blurt out, calling yourself a hypocrite internally in the same breath. It’s not like you listened away during his adventures, legs pressed together to create friction.

“I’m sorry,” he lifts his hands in defense. “But you weren’t exactly being quiet. Plus, our walls aren’t that thin.”

You know… Hell, you know.

But how is he initiating the conversation just like that? God, the absolute courage…

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you curse. You bring your fingers to your eyes, rubbing them rather than hiding your entire face. “That’s fucking embarrassing.”

But Jungkook softly brings your hand down again – then speaks to reassure you. Only, anything he says tonight makes matters worse.

“Would it help if I told you it wasn’t embarrassing for me?”

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“It just sounded…”

He procrastinates, his expressions calm but his eyes dangerous. Hooded.

“Bad?” You dig.

“No. It sounded hot.”

No. No, your heart and body can’t handle this. You might die if you don’t push his admissions into the most disbelieving corner of your brain.

Jungkook finds you hot? The sounds you couldn’t hide, he likes them? He means it?

“Shut the fuck up, I’m–” You begin, but he replaces your rebukes with a deep inhale and stiff muscles when he moves closer.

Your back presses against the bedside cabinet. Now that the flickering candle is melting down, its light is getting dimmer and the room darker. Bright enough to still make out his silhouette and most alluring features.

The phone has long fallen from between your fingers, hiding in the blanket and the video long over. Somehow, you’re glad you disabled autoplay – it doesn’t disturb the moment that’s clearly progressing to something dangerous.

But at the same time, you’re surprised as hell. Asking yourself silently over and over again, whatsgoingonwhatsgoingon.

“What are you doing?” You whisper.

“I’m just wondering.” His body is tilted, one hand still on your thigh. “When you do stuff to yourself… Is there something specific you think of?”

You shift a little, not answering. When he sees the surprise in your eyes and confuses it with fear, however, he backs away again and clicks his tongue. “My bad. Sorry for being like that.”

But you’re not letting him retreat now… Things have come too far. You place a hand on his arm and tug him closer subtly. His already big eyes look humongous now, positively delighted, even when you keep struggling with words.

“No, I just…” You try but fail as soon as you start.

“Why are you stuttering like that? That’s not you.”

You wish he was wrong. You’re more confident than this in any other moment. Crazy what one Jeon Jungkook’s touch can do.

You swallow hard, delivering a mental slap before pieces of your courage resurface again.

“This is new to me,” you tell him.

“What is?”

“The way we’re talking to each other. It’s not nothing…” You look down to seek the emoji on his middle finger, barely recognizable in the darkness. “And you’re… You’re good looking, Jungkook.”

“Yeah,” he agrees cockily, but you know his humility enough to understand he doesn’t mean it. Those are shameless teases, nothing more. “And?”

“You’ve always been good looking. And on top of that, I can always hear how you sound when you…”

Should you really go there? What if it damages something? Then again, it’s too late now anyway.

“When I…?” He tries.

“I kinda don’t wanna say it, and I know you know what I mean.”

“Ah, right,” Jungkook casually confirms, like he’s just realized what you might be pointing at. “When I fuck someone’s brain out.”

You suck in a breath.

“Don’t say it like that!”

“How do you want me to say it?” Jungkook taps his chin with his finger. He looks like a sly anime college crush. “I kindly empty their thoughts.”

“Shut up.”

“And rearrange their guts–”

“Oh my God, I’ll–”

Do what? Your own guts are pleading for a good, nasty and disrespectful mess. Wobbly pudding on his bed, your body is already melting at the mere thought… So you can’t imagine what actual ferity could do if he unleashed it.

Unknowing what to say, you look away, moving back like a proper idiot. But suddenly, pressure wraps around your wrist, fingers pulling you into him. You look at him speechlessly, parting your lips when he looks down at them.

“Is there something you want me to do?” He asks.

There’s a myriad of things you want him to do. But there’s slight doubt knocking against the walls of your brain and – ugh…

“Is it okay for us to do such a thing?” You question back.

“I don’t know,” he confesses quietly, his breath pleasant against your lips. “Say no just once and I promise I’ll back away.”

“And… And if I don’t?”

“Answer first.” He tilts his head, big eyes too pure and sweet for the conversation going on. “Or… Well, don’t.”

You remain silent. Hot blood turns your face as warm as a grill, and you look at him and his smile. Your heart rebels in your throat, but your thoughts are sober. So once he sees the clearness in your stare, he understands.

“Alright.”

It’s the last word he whispers before his hand wanders up your pajama pants. He fiddles with the neat knot holding your pajama around your waist, playing with it for a moment until patience runs out.

Soft fingertips tug at the end of the strings until the hem of the pants loosens around you. His eyes shoot up to yours, hiding menacingly behind his bangs. You don’t know what for–perhaps for permission–but you nod.

“Can you lift a bit for me?” His voice is soothing, calm and lovely when he utters his demand as a question. If you listen closely, you hear the desire, though.

You raise your ass, letting him slip the pajama down your thighs. When your body presses back into the mattress, your hands move to his face, making him look at you. The front of his tongue darts out, trapped between his teeth and his eyes are dark and starry. Lost in you.

His teeth let his tongue go, sliding it across his lower lip… Goddammit, you want to taste it.

When he skims over your panties and now bare thighs, your eyes blink close. He watches and adores your reaction; skims your dampness below. Jungkook acts as fuel, even though you’re already incredibly flammable.

The hums that accompany your slight wiggle are gentle, contrasting the losing of your mind going on in your head.

“More?” He wants to know.

“Mhmmm.”

“Okay. Good, Pumpkin.”

You’d smile at the ridiculous childhood endearment if the moment wasn’t so sinful. If he wasn’t grazing your pelvis, causing goosebump as he goes, pulling at the thin fabric until you lift once again.

He chuckles, a sound that reaches deep within your chest. “Good girl. Learning fast.”

Is he serious?

He can’t just drop a good girl like that as if he’s announcing a brief walk through a nearby park. What the fuck.

“Stop it,” you mutter, unaware why exactly.

“Want me to stop? We’re just starting,” he chants, his pout playfully childish and cute.

But the fingers. Oh the fingers rounding the skin right over the sensitive nub. Playing with you like you’re his own personal doll, wrapping you around his skillful, strong and incredibly beautiful fingers.

His touch drops deeper when you whisper an inaudible wish; whatever it is, he thinks he knows what you want. Featherlightly, he presses down on your clit, and you cry out quietly.

You fall back against the headboard again, your hands in his hair and tugging at the strands at the nape of his neck. One blink of his eyes passes and he’s snaking an arm under you, pulling you down and flat onto your back.

“You alright, yeah?” Jungkook makes sure, elated when you nod enthusiastically. “Good. Very good.”

His face is close to yours but doesn’t remain there: As he caresses your clit, shaking up your lower belly, his mouth dives in and finds home between your tits. He breathes you in before he presses a kiss against the shirt hiding your skin.

“Jungkook…”

“Mmmh.” He looks up at your chin, your head thrown back. “Say, Pumpkin…” He blows at your left nipple, well aware that you never wear a bra at home, and watches it perk under the shirt. Then, his teeth catch the material before he lets go and speaks on. “May I see those pretty tits of yours?”

“Nnnh,” is all you can give back. “Yes.”

Happily, the unoccupied hand lifts the white tee until he touches the underside of your boobs; his touch covers something you reckon he might enjoy. With his face hovering over yours, you wonder how long it will take him to notice.

Nothing yet at least.

His hand pauses there and then lifts the shirt over your mounds. He palms one of them, relishing your mewls. The sigh lets his voice fall some more, enticing when his mind numbing talk continues, “Hello there, girls.”

Jesus fucking Christ…

Why is this so hot to you?

His hair tickles your clavicles before his tongue does the same to your hard nubs. Wrapping his lips around your nipple, he pulls at it, then releases it to repeat it all. All while his fingers float down to your hole.

And then…

Palms pushing your thighs apart under the crumbled up blanket, he doesn’t wait another second before he drops to his side next to you and dips his middle finger inside. Slowly at first, easing you into the process, but it does nothing to avoid the sudden term that falls out of you.

“Fuck, baby, this is–”

You realize your mistake–mistake?–when his finger halts mid action. But once he proceeds, lifting his head to kiss your jaw, you don’t see a single trace of embarrassment or shame. No, he rather jumps onto the train with you.

“Easy, kitten.”

The new nickname forces your head to fall sideways to face him – your lips come to touch, but he doesn’t take it a step further. His eyelids fall half close, mouth not moving against yours; but you can’t really kiss anyway with the way he urges moan after moan out of you.

His finger starts pumping in and out of you, your walls contracting around him. There’s thought in his actions. He doesn’t just push in and pull out like a wildling – no, the curve of his digit, the tempo he chooses and the patch he massages inside you must be calculated.

Adding a second finger does nothing but amplify this feeling.

In his hold, you’re a little less squirmy than you might be without his touch. He keeps you grounded, controlling the wiggle of your body, allowing you to bite into your fist until he grabs your wrist and pushes it against the mattress.

“Nuh-uh,” he warns. Your eyes crack open a slit. “Stop muffling your sounds. Why would you?”

“I’m just…” You shake your head. “Self-conscious… Okay?” God, words are hard. “Y’don’t see me naked… Every day.”

“Absolutely outrageous if you ask me,” he breathes, knuckles deep inside you. There, he remains, merely moving his fingers inside without pulling out anymore. You hide half your face in the pillow. “Fuck, look at me.”

The danger and irritation in his voice sober up a piece of your mind, but the sudden emptiness when his fingers vanish shake you awake with a snap. An utterly wet touch trails along your thigh and then up your sides. He doesn’t give a fuck about the state of his blanket.

Letting go of your wrist, he pushes aside the fallen phone that his ass touches, and stops with everything altogether. Reaches behind him and then shoves the device to a far top corner of the bed.

“That’s good,” Jungkook whispers once he’s cozy with you again. Watching your breathing, dizzy form. “We don’t have to charge the phone and waste electricity that way, right?”

“Shut up…” is all your brain and tongue allow.

He clicks his tongue. “Alright, you killjoy.” A sudden slap to your overflowing pussy renders you speechless. But not him. “I’ll use my mouth elsewhere then, k?”

You’re still a mess in disbelief. Can’t comprehend that he’s actually saying those words in this exact constellation. You might think you’re dreaming if the squeezes of his hands and the dampness of his tongue didn’t prove you otherwise.

Crawling down your body, he makes sure to ruin every patch of your skin. He licks along your collarbones and gently bites at your tits. His palms love the feeling of your chest, nails digging in… And he only stops when he reaches a very particular something.

You feel his movements freeze clearly. He smacks his lips, and when you look at him, he looks surprised. Delightfully so.

“What’s that?”

There it is.

He watches your lips curl to a satisfied smile and your eyelids shut as he brushes his finger over the spot under your tits. Squinting, he removes more of the blanket, hoping the dim light of the candle might allow him a deeper look.

The black color isn’t as faded as the ink on his hand or arm, so it must be a recent sin you went for. You hum in innocence, opening your eyes again to barely catch the shake of his head as he repeats his question.

“What is that, huh?” He exhales the last word, breathing against you. Then kisses the skin underneath the tattoo. “You weren’t even gonna tell me about it?”

“Figured you might find out one day…”

He laughs quietly, hiding his fascination. But you know he’s still mesmerized, staring at the little thing, distracted even when he responds. “Is that so? You tease.”

Dipping down, an open mouthed kiss lands on top of your tattoo. His hands push your tits together, his mouth working on worshiping the tiny piece of skin that has captured him. His kiss is greedy to the touch, his breaths cold against the saliva he left once he lifts his face again.

“A crown, yeah? That what it is, isn’t it?”

The pleasant satisfaction in his voice is apparent, but you think you even hear bits of irritation – like he’s annoyed that you didn’t tell him about this. Like he’d dove into you earlier if you had.

“Hey, a lil feeling of royalty is never…” You stop when he pecks your tummy. His lips run along your stomach until they reach your pelvis. “Ohhhfff… You’re close.”

“I’ll keep going, alright?”

You let out more incoherent sounds, something between a moan and a hum. The anticipation is unbearable, but the fact that Jungkook is still fully dressed and his cock yet aching to be discovered by you might be worse.

With the blanket fully off of you, his lips explore your body, so close to where you want him. His right hand still lingers where the tattoo is eternalized in your skin, and according to his next words, his mind isn’t less hung up on it, either.

“Your tattoo matches mine, y’know?” He informs you as if you haven’t seen the crown on his index finger a few million times. The digit that’s digging into your hungry cunt again, along with another finger showcasing an emoji that must be looking like you right now. “We can both be royalty, don’t you think, princess?”

“My God, shut up,” you order. Your insides cringe, even though you’re sure you wouldn’t be opposed to him calling you that godforsaken nickname once again.

His giggle is Jungkook-ish sweet, but the hands that pry your legs open are not. Less even when he pushes them down onto the mattress as much as your joints allow, distracting you from the pull of your muscles when his nose nuzzles your pelvis.

The tip of his tongue touches your sacred part first. It’s just a slight dip, testing the waters. But your ocean is wild and its waves crash against the pit of your stomach.

“Didn’t think you’d be responsive right away,” he admits, only pausing to place a gentle kiss on your clit. “Then again, I haven’t seen a dude at our place in ages.”

“Asshole,” you curse, eliciting another deep snicker that vibrates right against your cunt.

Then, the jokes end and his stance changes. He takes a deep breath and then lowers his head once and for all. Leaving a trace of kisses riles you up enough, though things only get worse once his tongue darts out, starting a gentle dance in a captivating pattern.

He collects spit on the muscle in his mouth, pulling out the fingers out of you to spread your folds. Watching your pussy shimmer and leak, he laps up the arousal meant for just him. His cock stretches his favorite joggers, and he moves his hips against the bed for relief.

Buried deep, he moves to your clit to close his lips around it for a moment before he french kisses your pussy. Then, he repeats it all – only this time, the tip of his tongue moves in a perfect circle around your sensitive nub for a bit longer.

Slowly, softly, and then he stops.

“Wait…” you interrupt, blindly grabbing a patch of his hair. “Do that again. Please.”

The hushed desperation in your voice makes his sweatpants strain impossibly. His balls already ache.

“Like that?”

“Yeah… Yep.”

You arch your back and let your mouth fall open when his fingers return inside you, tongue imitating the motions from before. For a while, your moans and uncontrolled, quiet, peaceful sounds motivate and inflame him.

But once he begins yearning for your taste again, he swaps. His curved digits pull out of you, thumb taking his mouth’s place and vice versa. Which feels… Just as dangerous.

His tongue presses into you, a hand shoving up your right, closing leg. Your thigh stiffens when it feels his fingers deep in your flesh, and when it relaxes again, it falls over his shoulder and onto his back softly.

Zealously, you plant your heel against his shirt, trying not to think about the muscles of his back too hard. Yet, drowning in fervor, you can’t help but push his shirt up, irritated that he’s still wearing so damn much when you’ve already exposed the last of your being to him.

He either doesn’t notice or doesn’t acknowledge your hints yet. Because his focus is still somewhere else – understandably so.

“I knew you’d taste like that,” he confesses when he surfaces to take a breath.

He knew?

You’re panting more than him. Speaking comes to you harder than to him. “Like what?”

“Like absolute heaven,” he exhales at your waterfall-sex, hot and shiver inducing. “Pussy gifted by the angels.”

Oh, you bet he says that to everyone…

“Please don’t treat me like one, though,” you beg.

“Like an angel? Don’t worry. I fear you’re far filthier than I might expect.”

When his words collide with his repeated actions, your eyes water. You whine at the onslaught on your pussy, squirming, and shake your head when your insides somersault.

“I… I don’t think I can anymore,” you foolishly say.

Your ears seem to block out any sound, your body revolting. The pressure in your stomach is intense, to say the least. Your fingers and toys surely don’t feel that way.

“It feels like that because you can. I promise,” Jungkook, however, assures.

“This is the… I’ve never…”

It’s true. You’ve never had a build up or an orgasm like this before. Of course not: How could you if he’s drinking in every drop of the arousal dribbling out of you while rendering you wetter at the same time?

He sounds so goddamn lewd when he makes out with your cunt like that. Too filthy… You wonder how his lips will feel against yours if he’s able to do such magic down below already.

“It’s gonna be good… Okay?”

He’s wrong. Good is an absolute understatement.

The force with which your orgasm hits is worse than being run over by a truck. You internally slap everyone in your past who missed to make you feel that way.

You implode and explode, a swarm of cacophonic sounds oozing out of your mouth. You grab his sheets and his blanket so hard that the thoughts in the back of your head fear you might rip something.

Jungkook groans and moans along with you, his mouth and fingers attached to you no matter how much you move. A single tear flees between your shut eyelids, arousal not stopping to trickle out of you.

You’re still calling his name once the high comes down… Still holding the sheet, your vision still blurry. He licks and rides you through the end of the blast for a few more seconds. And when he’s done and you look at him, he’s covered in a shimmer.

Such a pretty boy.

“Hey,” he whispers joyfully once he comes up. “Hello.”

“Hey. You, jail,” you breathe.

You don’t waste a moment before you take off his shirt, eager and hungry. He laughs, cocking an eyebrow. “Why jail? Did I give you a bombastic orgasm or what?” He moves to lay half on top of you and licks his lips. “Shouldn’t I get free lap dances or something?”

“Jail for not doing this earlier.”

“Ah. Apologies. I’ll be at your service whenever from now on.”

The vow makes your tummy flutter. From now on? So he wants to do that again?

Nah. You must be dreaming. A fall night's fever dream.

“Good,” you mutter before you close the distance mutually.

He cages you in, beginning the kiss softly but urgently. His tongue doesn’t hesitate to seek out yours, and he tilts his head to deepen the gesture. Both your hands wander to the other’s face and hair, lips eating up each and every thrum.

His chest is warm against yours, hard pecs pressing against your nipples. It feels good, feeling him so close and intimate with you. No layers separating your upper bodies, melting into one… And that kiss…

As he pours all passion into it, you think you taste a bit of you on him, but said taste mingles with a lot of other things. The spices of dinner. The lingering sweetness of dessert. His thirst. The ardency that refuses to leave his motions.

“Hey,” he mumbles when he breaks the kiss. “I…”

“Hmm?”

“I really want you. So, so bad.”

The carnal desire is hidden in the moment for sure. But right now, listening to the softness in his voice, all you can and want to hear is unbridled longing.

Insatiable, you nod. “I want you, too. Please?”

“You… You don’t need to beg for it, Pumpkin.” His hips move against yours and you wrap your legs around him tighter. “Seriously, no need–”

His joggers are rough against your swollen pussy, but their harshness doesn’t compare to the thick bulge pushing into you. Moving down your wandering fingers, you push at the remaining clothing, shoving until you feel the bare, firm, muscular ass under your palms.

Hell, there’s so much you want to do. Like, slap it.

Lifting a little, he lets you free his cock, his sweatpants and underwear somewhere a little over his knees now. You’re ready to let him fuck you unconscious and into another universe before you realize you might not be all that ready just yet.

Because the throbbing, hot length falls heavy against your stomach. It’s thick and big and entirely unexpected. Not that he’s never boasted about it before or ran around without underwear beneath his pajamas. But fuck, you thought it’s the usual shit men say.

You didn’t think he was actually hiding something this… Generous.

“Wow, I–” You begin, but to no avail. Your screaming pussy distracts you.

“Huh? Yeah, what is it?” Jungkook purrs against your neck.

“Just. Can I…”

Your hand prowls from his ass to his cock, and you begin to guide it to your pussy slowly, opening up your legs more. Okay. You’re ready. You are. You are.

Only, Jungkook is not.

He shakes his head immediately, then nods towards the drawer inhabiting the condoms. You understand and roll your eyes, scoffing. “I wasn’t gonna do it anyways. But I’m… I am on the pill.”

“Yes. But you also forget to take it a lot.”

“Fair.” God, you just want him to drill you. Why’s starting so hard? “But I’m fine.”

“I am, too.” He groans when he moves over you, reaching to the drawer. “Still.”

You watch as he takes the package out, the foil carefully held between his fingertips. And in those brief seconds, you think.

His last hook up wasn’t so long ago. You wonder if he ever goes in raw with other girls… Wonder why he doesn’t with you but insists on protection. Less like he doesn’t trust you but more like he doesn’t trust himself.

You don’t ponder on your bumbling thoughts for too long before he smiles and sidetracks. “Hey, have you showered?”

“No. Why?” You answer, certain that the furrow of your eyebrows lays your confusion bare.

“You said you needed to.”

“And?”

“It’s gotten warm inside.” Aha… You think you know where this is going. But just for fun’s sake, you play dumb. “I still need my proper shower, too, by the way.”

“Okay… But we’re saving up on water, right?” You stare up at him in innocence. Godgodgodgod. He’s really doing that.

Jungkook slaps your ass, and you yelp. “Don’t play stupid. You know what I’m saying.”

“Kook–”

“What? We clean up together… Save water. I don’t have to shower again in the morning and can sleep in. It sounds like an amazing idea, if you ask me.”

You contemplate his idea. In all honesty, you know that he’s aware of your teasing and fake hesitation – but you think he likes the act. If it was up to him, he’d probably want you tapping your chin and all, cartoonesque.

“You do shower long…” You then conclude.

“Yeah. And so do you.”

“So…”

“So what do you say, Pumpkin Pie?”

“Mmmh. Okay.”

His eyes blow wide. “Really?”

You grimace at him. He’s adorable. After all he’s said and done, he’s still astonished at your response? An actual dork. But you still nod.

“Oomph,” he says. “Imagining you under the shower.” He’s talking more to himself than anything. “Might be just a bit more insane than imagining you naked in general.”

More than a decade of being friends and a couple of years of living together should’ve suggested at least once that thoughts can’t stay pure 24/7. Especially when hormones raged and you grew a pair of tits, you should’ve known his mind derailed a little on at least one occasion.

Still, you’re surprised.

“Did you imagine me naked before?” You wonder.

“Are you kidding me?”

The answer shoots out of him like a bullet, almost as fast as he lifts his body to come to a stand. You don’t bother about an answer when he grabs the condom and something else, then offers you a hand, pulling you up butt naked before guiding you to the bathroom.

“Calm down,” you joke. One hand covers your nipples, even though you’re not sure why. What’s done is done already, and you can’t and don’t want to burn the image of you exposed from his mind.

“Too late.” Once in front of the bathroom, he stops, lifting a finger. It’s funny how casual your conversation is and how naked you are. “Wait here.”

Twenty seconds pass, and he returns with two candles in his hands, planting and lighting them up on the washing machine. This idea better not backfire.

The small room is cooler than his own, and the porcelain sink he pushes you against when you enter, placing the condom and the small bottle he brought at the edge of it, is even worse.

You shiver and hiss before his fingers grip your chin. He pulls your face to his own, bringing your hand to his crotch as his kiss catches your breath.

His warm, towering cock twitches in your palm, making you moan into his mouth. You attempt to unify your bodies, shifting closer, but he keeps pushing you backwards. Your back arches over the sink, and the kiss stops, his lips opening yours, suffocating against you.

“You’re so fucking hot, you know?” He maffles, stepping back but not without pulling you along.

You can’t wait to step back into his room later to investigate where your discarded clothes lay.

For now, you smile, delighted when his lopsided smirk matches yours. He kisses the tip of your nose before he draws a deep breath. Brings the both of you into the shower and then lets hot water rain down on you.

The liquid burns hot on your shoulder first, and Jungkook exclaims something incomprehensible as he regulates the temperature pouring out of the faucet. The procedure remains calm and quiet, unusual for a bickering pair like you.

But once he gets soaked under the water, shaking his hair out of his eyes just to push it back with his hands… You can’t keep your mouth shut anymore.

“Jungkook,” you whisper.

He puts a hand on your waist and the other on your cheek, stepping closer carefully. For a second, you think he looks at you like nothing else in the universe matters.

Your stomach bubbles… Your heart pounds.

“Hmm… Yeah?”

“I imagined you,” you tell him. “Us… Like that before, too.”

“Really? How?” He whispers back. Your vision is blurry – you don’t know if it’s the water’s or the moment’s craze’s fault.

All you know is that you want to remember his touch on your face, the shower warming your chest, trickling into your soul.

He keeps brushing back your drenched tresses lovingly and softly. You almost forget how to act purely horny, enabling tenderness and feelings until your nipples press against his torso and his cock moves against you again.

“I feel like you’d enjoy,” you near his ear, breathing, “sucking on my tits as much as I would.”

He grins.

“I’m more of an ass guy, though.”

On cue, he grabs a handful of your rear, pulling out a weird sound out of you that you regret immediately. He doesn’t bother as much as you. He’s busy staring at your lips and getting familiar with your ass.

“Right,” you say, distracted by the (intentional?) movements of his cock. You want to… You really want to… “Can I– can I suck you, ass guy?”

The embrace around you loosens up. According to his expression, he probably didn’t predict your question; but you think a man with a dick like his should expect that everyone wants to suck him dry.

But anyways–

Perhaps his surprise is a good thing, because the way his mouth drops open when you bring your hand to his shaft is priceless.

“Wow,” he expresses under his breath. “I’d be fucking stupid to say no, right?”

“Yes. I’m pretty good at this.”

You wrap your fingers and palm around his hardness, twisting your hand and alternating the pace. Your thumb runs over his slit, tempted to taste what already leaks out. One smile is all he gets before you choose to drop to your knees instead. Sacrificing their flawless state.

He shifts to the wall until his back hits its coolness, speechless when you look up at him, trying your hardest not to ogle at the delicious cock angry in front of you, and then stretch out your tongue.

You press it to the underside of his cock, making sure he feels you breathing, and then you shove his member into your mouth before it can slap back against his stomach.

Holy fuck, he really is hard.

“I believe you…” He says, his breaths rigid. “Barely doing anything, but it’s…”

So good.

First, you focus on the head. Swirling your tongue around it, you hum, hearing him hiss above you. You do your best, but you don’t know just how much you actually affect him.

Because from above, Jungkook’s point of view is something he doesn’t think he could even dream of. The sounds of you quietly gagging and slurping, constantly moaning and vibrating around him rile him up. The fact that you’re struggling to control your breathing, because you’re too immersed, apprehensive to stop.

And your lips, God, your lips, they wrap around him perfectly. He wonders what it’d look like if you were wearing lipstick, or how your non-waterproof mascara would run down your cheeks if he fucked your mouth.

You pull him out to catch a breath, using the pause to stroke him lightly. Leaning closer, you take a moment to rub the tip against your nipple – he seems to like it, because the bite of his lip is firm.

Then, you move your gentle touch to his balls and speak. “Is that alright?”

“I… alright?” He croaks, furrowing his eyebrows. “How about you suck me dry every fucking day, huh?”

“If I’m allowed to.”

You laugh a little, inhaling through your nose before you dive in again. This time, you let him in as much as you can take. Small fireworks explode on your tongue when his precum touches it, his cock twitching more between your lips as you suck harder.

“You are… Fuck, of course you are…” He permits, throwing back his head. Tattooed digits sneak into your hair, and when he pulls your head back, you disconnect from his cock with a plop sound. “But pause for now, k? Wanna fu–”

He can’t speak, so you guess you succeeded. But you get it… You’d rather he fucked you too instead of coming in your mouth.

A hand wrapped around your neck gently pulls you up to your feet. His jaw is clenched and sharp, and his eyes are piercing. He looks so fucking hot wet like that, drawing out his tongue to run it between his lips.

His mouth lures you in automatically, your gaze frozen on it and already imagining his taste. But he’s a step ahead–though in another twisted way–when he turns you around without a warning.

He pins your tits against the wall and tugs at your hips until you’re angled just right for him. Then, he leans in to voice one single order. “Stay like that.”

His wish is your command, anytime.

Panting, you let the water pour onto you, waiting. The small bottle he brought, undoubtedly lube, is placed in the shower caddy next to you, and before you can blink twice, you hear a package ripping open.

“Hurry,” you beg, recognizing the amused chuckle you definitely expected.

“Chill,” he says. “Gimme just a moment, princess.”

“Stop.”

Another sneer, more apparent complications, but in the meantime he distracts you with words that leave you unstable. “Fuck, I wish I could go in just like that.”

You want to say he can. But you don’t want to risk another rejection like before… Your heart and ego can only take this much.

For now, you push the thoughts aside, only focusing on the fact that you’ll be railed by Jeon fucking Jungkook. That he’s turned you around to finally weaken your knees, to batter your pussy, that you’ll actually be having sex with him in no time.

Or whenever he figures out a solution to his problem.

He turns away the showerhead and curses at the condom or whatever, and you laugh, still bent in an uncomfortable position.

“Harder than you thought, huh?” You joke.

As a response, he exhales, then grabs your waist as he delivers a verbal answer. “My dick or putting this shit on? Because yeah.”

Apparently, dealing with the condom wasn’t too impossible after all. Because once it’s done, his hands are on you again, one pulling you in further by your hip while the other spreads your pussy folds.

Then, his fingers disappear, grabbing the bottle of lube to fiddle with the liquid and placing it back in no time. You can hear the sounds that smearing it onto his dick causes.

And then you hear it even worse when he brings those exact digits back to your cunt. He contributes the rest of the lube by rolling his fingertips around your entrance and then pumping into you a couple of times. You moan out, and impatience grows faster.

“Okay,” he says, his voice still steady. “You tell me to stop if it ever hurts, alright?”

You nod, and he whispers, “Perfect.”

And then, it happens.

And it takes ages.

Not really due to hesitation or anything like that, but more because the cock intruding your walls just doesn’t stop. The shaft, rich in thickness and length, penetrates you deep, already overwhelming, and you’re sure he isn’t even halfway through.

“That enough?” He asks.

You shake your head. No. You don’t think anything will ever be enough, no matter how intense and mind numbing things become. More, you want all of him.

“More,” you repeat, speaking out loud.

“Seriously…?”

Yeah. You’re as much in disbelief as him. But your body – it knows what it’s pleading for, what signals it’s sending to your brain and then to your tongue.

“Please,” you beg. “I’ll tell you if I feel uncomfortable. I promise.”

A groan. A deeper push. He fills you to the brink, engulfed by you perfectly. The ideal lock to his key… Everything inside you tingles and aches.

When he’s bottomed out, he shifts and you feel the movement inside you. Mewling, you whisper his name, his ears perking up as his already drained voice calls back to you.

“Move?” He wants to know, his entire sentence abandoned.

“Move.”

So he does.

Long, slow, languid and careful strokes. He pants behind you. The shower water is still a bit too hot, but it doesn’t compare to whatever the fuck he’s kindling inside you.

Whenever he returns back deep, you lose your mind a bit more. And whenever he notices, his pace fastens by a tiny, tiny fraction. Until restraint becomes a foreign concept.

“Fuck, I wish I could…” His sentence breaks as much as you do when his hips meet yours. “Wish I could keep the imprints of your hands on the wall forever.” He thrusts into you hard once, hands pushing up your ass. “Wish I could see you pressed against it.”

He leans forward, his wet chest touching your soaked back. Kissing your cheek and neck, you slip into the craze only he can call forth. Fucked by him in the flickering candlelight, romantic for a fly on the wall, but sickeningly filthy in reality.

You’re a fool, because the thought of romance rests in the back of your mind right now – so you add to the already established sins when his hand brushes your neck.

“Jungkook…” You purr.

His movements slow down at the call of his name. You reach out an arm and turn the stream of water off – after all, you’re here to save the environment and yourself. That you’ve barely been focusing on showering is neither your fault.

Jungkook doesn’t question whatever you do. You don’t think he cares much about his surroundings anyway, everything around him is blurred but you. His lips still roam your shoulder when he shoves himself inside you balls deep and then pauses there.

You whisper his name again, drawing out another deep hum right next to his ear, and then spit it out.

“Choke me.”

You wonder. If you hadn’t turned off the water, would it have frozen to ice, too?

Because the wall and the room suddenly cool down and you swear he’s stopped breathing. You press your underarms and your forehead to the wall, eyes closing and asking yourself whether you made a mistake.

But… But maybe not.

In the next moment, Jungkook suddenly laughs a little, quiet but enticing enough to make your scalp tingle. He pushes the hair out of your face and your neck, slowly tracing your skin downward until he touches the spot over your vocal cords.

His fingers lift your head, breaking the contact to the wall. Gently rubbing your jaw with his thumb, he starts wrapping a huge hand around your neck… Silently at first before he finally answers.

“Shit, you’re so much dirtier than the good girl I know.”

No matter how simple the sentence, something in it awakens ambiguity in you. The realization that you’ve successfully surprised him. And at the same time, the urge to remain his good girl.

You want to be all of it for him; want to be the only object of affection for him.

“Can tell you the s-same.” You gasp when he squeezes the sides of your neck, just below your jawline. “This isn’t–” Biting your lip, you pause, distracted by his palm. “Not what puppy eyed boys should be doing.”

He lifts your body wordlessly, only laughing at your words in delight. Still sunken inside you, he straightens your posture just a bit, careful to not apply any kind of pressure to your windpipe. He knows what he’s doing – sex couldn’t be safer with anyone else.

At least that’s what you know, judging the choking experiences you’ve gathered with other men or women so far.

He leans into you, kissing your temple as he hammers into you again. The squeezes around your neck differ: His motions follow a varying pattern; your veins pulsate.

You imagine his clenched jaw or his furrowed eyebrows. The furious look on his face that doesn’t really suggest anger but blissful pleasure. You imagine his teeth trapping his lower lip, dimples on his cheeks, wet dark hair restricting his vision.

All that combined with all the godless things he says.

“I can’t believe we haven’t done this before… But…”

A sharp thrust pushes you forward, and one of your hands reaches behind you to grip his hip. Good God, he’s so fucking large. Human anatomy and logic aside, he must be battering your guts along with your pussy.

“But I knew I’d fuck you one day.”

Oh.

He has no remorse. He’s either too trapped in you to notice what he’s doing to you or he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. Either way, your faltering soul can barely still handle him.

“You fucking devil,” you only respond.

And the devil has the audacity to leave your neck to slap your tits. How dare.

You yelp and your sound continues when he pinches your nipples, soft at first before his nips become harder. Defenseless in his grip, your knees almost buckle, especially when he talks to you again.

“My God, you’re letting me do fucking anything I want.”

“It’s… It’s the dick,” you tell him, already embarrassed. “Too good.”

“Ah? Thanks.” Letting his hands drop from your sensitive tits, he finds your clit again – you think you might cry. “Little reward for being so good for me?”

You want him to elaborate, but you soon learn what that reward consists of anyway.

He caresses your clit slowly and gently, accompanied by occasional light slaps. No rest for the wicked seems to be his motto today, not that you can complain.

Because a minute later, his fingers combined with the reckless, now fast paced plunges throw your world into chaos once more. You scream out his name, barely able to breathe. “Kook, I’m… I–”

“I know. Let go for me, Pumpkin. You’re all good, okay?”

His promises and soft reassurances make you fall harder into the fondness you already feel for him. If there was ever a point of return, he’s annihilated it once and for all now.

Who are you to doubt him? So you let another mind blowing orgasm wash over you. It rolls in hard, showing in your broken moans and curling fingers. He holds you up on your melting legs, an arm around your tummy.

“Hold on for me,” he snarls against your cheek, and you try. You really try your best, but your body’s giving up, trembling at the peak’s intensity that’s shaking up your insides. “Gonna cum, too…”

One more. You can afford one more indecent idea.

“Cum on my ass, Kook.”

“Fucking hell, baby.”

That’s all. That’s all he needs.

No hesitation in sight, he steps back and out of you, angling your body again by pulling your ass back as much as possible. The condom falls somewhere next to you – you see it from the corner of your eyes before you hear the way Jeon Jungkook climaxes.

Which is: With extra guttural groans, a quivering breath, fingers digging deep into the flesh of your butt and–what you realize when you look back at him–with super uncontrolled pumps of his cock.

“Fuuuuck,” he moans when his seed shoots hot onto your bottom.

It takes a few seconds for him to empty himself completely, and he keeps swearing, keeps saying something you barely understand.

But what you do understand, even though you’re absentmindedly focusing on his fingers spreading the cum on your back, is, “Gonna punish you for being so fucking hot one day.”

“That a promise?” You ask, still breathless.

He laughs. “Brat.”

The whole affair ends almost the way it started: Carefully and slowly, bickering thrown in here and there. But aside from the obvious fact you’re showering together, still so, so naked, there are more differences you notice when he lets the water run again to clean you up properly.

Like, his look. A smile you haven’t seen before, you think.

Very soft touches along your cheeks, fingers combing through your hair like you’re something fragile.

Questions such as, “Are you okay? Was that okay? Do you feel good, Pumpkin?”

Also… The hecking forehead kiss when you smile and nod.

The mood has shifted, albeit to something pleasant, once everything’s said and done. He puffs out a breath, discarding the neglected condom. Before he wraps you in a towel, his thumb brushes over your tattoo once more – his eyes look fascinated and affectionate, but he doesn’t comment on it again.

He doesn’t guide you back to your room but to his, drying you up thoroughly and affectionately.

He lets you leave for just a moment, telling you that you need to come back once you’ve found stuff to sleep in. His behavior is odd, but instead of questioning it, you indulge in his tender care.

But in the end, he only lets you wear your fresh pair of underwear and your shorts, snatching your shirt to throw it onto his desk. He rummages through his closet silently and only speaks once he’s handed you one of his cotton shirts.

“Take this?”

His tone is different from how he sounded the rest of the night. Not demanding, but kind of questioning. His teeth nibble at his lip and then he says, “I think you’d look good in it… Just if you’re up to it.”

He doesn’t stutter or hesitate. Like he dreamed of this for ages.

“Okay,” you mutter.

Taking a seat at the edge of the bed, he waits until you’re done, incredibly ecstatic when you smoothen the fabric over your body. He praises you, “Knew it. Beautiful.”

Then, his mouth falls shut. The joy melts into something softer. His eyes drink you in from head to toe, and he lifts both arms to tangle his fingers with yours.

You oblige, letting him pull you closer softly. Tilting your head, you speak up. “What’s up?”

But he doesn’t elaborate. “Nothing,” he only tells you with a smile.

“Okay.”

“But–”

You knew it. There’s something he’s thinking of profusely and he doesn’t want to keep it hidden. Thank God.

“Yeah?” You spur him on.

“Um… Stay here tonight.”

…Oh. Oh–

After all the things that went down tonight, his offer still strikes you like lightning. There’s a dull thump behind your chest and a growing ache in your stomach. You don’t know what it is and don’t understand why your body reacts that way.

You should be swarmed with butterflies. But instead, a ball of something strange forms inside you.

Maybe because he asks like your room isn't right next to his. Or as though you’d be gone and out of reach for miles if you stepped over the threshold of his bedroom now.

But… You’d be insane to resist.

So you let him drape the blanket over the both of you, crawling next to him.

“Lemme–” He says. You don’t get the opportunity to lay against his heartbeat, because he does it first. An arm holds your body close, his cheek pressed against your chest. “Like that. Feels good.”

He tangles his legs with yours, sighing in extreme satisfaction. You’re sure he’s dozing off when you interrupt by joking, “We didn’t save that much water after all.”

His voice is just a mumble when he speaks. “You did turn it off, though…” You chuckle quietly, and he pulls you closer to him. “I’ll use the college shower for a few days, okay?”

The things he’s ready to do for you…

In hindsight, you don’t think it’s the physical attraction you’ve been feeling for weeks that led to tonight’s fiasco. It’s not hormones or his jawline. Thinking, your emotions might date back to a time you can barely remember.

Because those subtle sacrifices he makes, the caring statements, the love he carries for you that shows in tiny, tiny things. Platonic or not, a bond like yours was bound to make you fall as hard as you did.

You think you remember what occurred that set you on fire so much hotter recently. Just right now… It might not be the time to speak about it yet, so you stuff the secret memory back into your mind.

Zeroing in on the mention of college, you stretch sideways, telling him to hold on a moment.

“Hm?” He mumbles.

“Setting an alarm.” The phone screen lights up your face and you squint one eye shut. “We’re still college students, Jungkook.”

“Mmmh,” he groans in displeasure. “Do we need to go?”

“I mean, do you wanna graduate?”

“I don’t know. I could strip for money.”

You laugh, holding him closer to you than before. Fondness seeps into him, and you notice when he digs his ear harder into your chest.

“Saw you naked, so speaking out of experience,” you support, “I think people would like that.”

He hums again. You feel his lips graze the shirt he gave you. “Would you be my manager?”

“If I get free shows.”

Nodding, he assures, “Of course. You can count on me, mon capitaine.”

“Oohhh,” you praise, tapping his bare bicep. “You can’t just quote The Beauty and the Beast and expect me to stay solid.”

He breathes out a throaty laugh, sounding right from his chest. “Stay solid?”

“Yeah. Look.” You palm his soft cheek, ignoring the way he leans into your touch. Ignoring what it does to you. And he’s smiling, too. “Do you feel me melting?”

“You’re so damn funny, you know?” He tells you.

Your face warms at his compliment, and you think you could fall asleep in satisfaction after all. That is. If there wasn’t what he says next of course. Out of fucking nowhere.

“Hey…” He begins and hesitates. His voice is quiet and drowsy, ready to drift off. “All that happened won’t change anything, right? Between us? Because I’m… I’m sorry if it makes things weird.”

Your heart skips a beat… He might have heard it.

That’s what he wants? To not change shit?

To remain platonic, friendly, close but not close enough. It won’t change anything? Because you thought it would.

But what are you supposed to say? Here, with him in your arms. You can’t start an argument or disrupt the evening you gifted each other. The preciousness of it can’t fade…

“No,” is what you say for that reason. “Of course not.”

“Good. Good, that’s important.” You don’t think he’s aware of what he’s saying. He sounds so tired, worn out after all the things he did today. The way he bids tonight goodbye is proof of that. “Night, Pumpkin.”

“Good night, Kook.”

Why did things happen the way they did? How did you let your guard fall? When did he decide it’d be okay to take a step further in his bed, in the bathroom, in the shower, only to go back to ground zero?

All those questions could plague your mind as you begin slumbering away. But they don’t.

Not yet.

–

pt1 || pt2 || pt3

–

author’s note: I am! sorry for the ending🥴 if you made it to the end of my very first real fic, thank you sowww much! did you enjoy it? let me know what you think--send an ask or reblog if you’d like, i’m really excited to know what you have to say bc feedback and support means everything💕

#jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #bts smut #bts fluff #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #jungkook fic #jungkook oneshot #bts imagine #bts fic #jeongguk smut #jungkook

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gyomei · 12 days

Text

OBJECTIVE: FUCK FUSHIGURO TOJI

・SYNOPSIS: what started off as two friendly workers transpires into something more when toji asks you out for a couple of drinks one night. and when the two of you agree that your sexual relationship would be nothing more, both of your hearts and emotions yearn for the inevitable ( 3.2k words )

・CONTENT WARNINGS: minors, ageless & blank blogs: do not interact ! afab!reader (she/her) paramedic!toji & nurse!reader, recreational alcoholic consumption, situationship to lovers. smut content: cunnilingus, fingering, unprotected sex, praise kink, not proofread.

・SIDE NOTE. here's the very first installation of fuck, marry, kill. and i don't know, i was heavily feeling paramedic!toji. like... mmmyeah ! 😋

The double doors to the hospital entrance opens upon the men wheeling in the gurney, pushing the poor patient in a hurry. The chill upon entering, while not foreign, still makes Toji shiver as he bustles inside. His veins protrude deeply from his hands as the receptionists open the locked doors without question as one of the paramedics stays behind to check in the newfound patient. The crowded waiting area watches as the once moderate volume spikes up with the gurney wheels as the heavy and rushed footsteps of the men.

Pale yellow walls before the site of desks and nurses heading from one station to the next, Toji’s eyes dart until he sees just who exactly he wants. And just to his pleasure, you’re already looking at him. All men come to a halt, the gurney slowing down as you make a beeline in Toji’s direction. Your arms open up and the taller man doesn’t need to question exactly what you want.

Arriving at the scene, the sight was a gruesome mess. Blood everywhere as the victim was clearly struggling with their aggressor. It took the police awhile to find it, but they managed to snag out the ID.

“Gojo Satoru—” Toji recites from the top of his head, yet still handing the small rectangular plastic to you nonetheless. “Twenty-eight year old Asian male. Fatal stabs to his chest, nearly piercing his heart and right lung. He’s in a stable condition right now, and the only contact that we can get for him is a close friend in his contact— Geto Suguru.”

“Gosh!” You can’t help but breathe out, eyes widening as you’re typing in the information into the computer. Though Toji’s giving you a verbatim of the individual’s information, you look over the ID to make sure you have everything correct. Strikingly white hair that seems unreal and blue eyes that are so magnetic and captivating, you can’t help but feel for the young man.

“I know right,” Toji sighs, sharing your same sentiment. “Heard it was about a vengeful ex or something? Don’t know, but that’s what the cops are speculating right now.”

“Well, I hope whoever did it receives ten times worse,” you breathe, submitting the information as you take a stand. You stretch, hearing the cracks of your muscles as you let out a soft yawn. You feel the eyes of Toji on you as you turn, directing more of your attention to him.

“Careful,” Toji warns in jest, the corners of his lips curving upwards as his eyes light up in amusement. “You might have to be the nurse assigned to caring for them.”

You chuckle at that, slipping yourself out from behind your desk. The patient has already been assigned and brought to a vacant room. You’re dressed in a pair of turquoise blue scrubs, going nice with your skin tone. Toji has just a few more minutes to spare before he has to run off again into the ambulance. Really, he should be heading back now, but he wants to spend a bit more time in your company while he can.

“What time d’ya get off tonight, hm?” he asks. “I’ve got three more hours.”

An eyebrow spikes as you glance over at the taller man. Green eyes that always seem to dance with humor and the scar on the left corner of his lip still standing vastly visible as he grins, expectant of your answer. You snort at how unbelievable this man can be at times. “You’re asking me out after telling me about a severely harmed patient? Do you know nothing about timing?”

“Hey,” Toji throws his hands up to defend himself. “We see the gnarliest of shit everyday. We have to stay sane somehow.”

Well, he’s not wrong on that part. Most nights you just head straight home, take a quick shower and go to bed. Your work days can be rough within the emergency room as you have many different people come into the hospital. All different kinds of problems and different lifestyles all seeking help from you, the other nurses and doctors. If you didn’t immediately fall asleep once hitting the bed, sometimes your mind would wander and a recap of the day would play in your head.

You shouldn’t get attached to the people that come in and tell you about their issues and why exactly they’re in the emergency room, but at times you find yourself slipping and you just can’t help yourself. You can’t and refuse to harden your heart, not wanting to be immune to emotion. Every time you find yourself dwelling on the patients you come across, you find yourself slowly losing your sanity. Toji’s right.

“I have the next four hours here, then I’m free,” you finally answer his question before turning on your heel to leave. “I suggest you hurry back before they have your ass again.”

“Again?” Toji snorts, an eyebrow cocking upwards, but he does take a step back in the opposite direction towards the exit. “They never had it.”

You ignore that statement, instead saying, “The longer you stand here stalling, the slower time goes.” And it’s enough to get Toji out of the building.

—

Toji doesn't like to drink. On the contrary to his looks, he finds the beverage to be grimacing. Some weren't as bad as the others, but no one could ever convince him to drink willingly. So, while you have a glass of bourbon, he nurses water. And while your drink makes your face sour when he doesn't, both of you need this.

It's a Wednesday night and the both of you— on your weird schedules— don't have work tomorrow. The bar is fairly empty; no more than eleven people in tonight, not counting the lonely bartender. The two of you sit down on stools, listening to the mellow music playing overhead on the speakers as a couple enjoys their company on the dancefloor. Toji’s eyes are on them, fixated as he envies them.

Envies the look in their eyes, dark bags underneath them but the love is so evident. Envies the tight hold they have on each other as they sway to the music, how their bodies seem to mesh with one another. He envies the intimacy that they hold, but if anyone were to ask him when he was going to settle down or if he was ready to be in a relationship, he'd immediately say no.

And it's not exactly like he's lying. He's not ready to be in a relationship and he's not someone desperate that he needs to be in one. But, he's been yearning recently. Yearning after this one someone that makes him seek what the couple before him has.

“Ugh,” you gulp down the remaining content of your glass. “I need another one.” That was your second glass.

“No, you don't,” Toji immediately states, intervening when you turn around to beckon for the bartender. Grabbing the empty glass, the employee looks from you to Toji, trying to decide just who to listen to. You just had two glasses.

Toji shoots the young man a glare, subtly shaking his head and making him walk away. Groaning when the bartender walks away, you spin in your chair and shoot daggers into Toji. Those eyes, they try to intimidate, but Toji can only smirk in amusement as he fixes himself in his seat again.

“I thought we came here to relax,” you slump into your chair. “You invited me here tonight, but you're not letting me drink?”

“You're driving home, aren't you?” Toji asks rhetorically. “Plus, do you really wanna spend your day off nursing a hangover instead of actually enjoying it?”

You don't like how his voice drops. He's being serious, but the way your body reacts isn't. A shiver runs down your spine as your eyes gloss with a hint of lust. However, you hold yourself up as you contemplate his words. He's got a point. You don't want to waste your day off with a headache and whining about the discomfort you're in.

Pressing the balls on your feet on the wooden plank of the stool, you shift in your seat and ready to surrender when Toji drops lower into your space. Lips pricking against the shell of your ears and you can feel his breath against you.

“I'd rather have you waste it with me,” he hums out a ‘hm’ at the end. “Rather have you in your right mind than be more intoxicated.”

You should be used to his flirtatious remarks, but sometimes he catches you off guard. Speechless, your tongue goes dry as you immediately forget about what you were going to say. Your mouth opens and closes, looking like a fish gasping for water. At this, Toji can't help but smirk, sliding off the bench with ease as he slides the nearly empty glass in the direction of the bartender. “I'll pay for the tab. Let's go.”

He takes your hand and you can feel the rough texture of his calloused palms and fingers, something that you’ve come to get used to and adore. You don’t say anything else, simply following behind him as he leads you out the bar.

—

Sometimes you believe that you deserve more than what Toji gives you. That you deserve someone that isn’t afraid to commit. Then, you rationalize everything, realizing that you’re asking for something that you also can’t devote to. Long schedules and when you have free time, you spend it sleeping or tending to duties and tasks that you need to cross off your checklist. So, you take what you can get. After all, you also agreed to this arrangement.

Legs hiked up and pushed into your chest, your knees pressed against your breasts as Toji hums against your decadent pussy. Folds that gloss like porcelain as he laps at it. Saliva intermingling with your arousal, your slick juices staining your inner thighs and dripping down the crevices of your arousal. Your breathing is erratic with the tight hold he has you in, legs bound to be aching when he’s finally done with you. Tears stain the corners of your eyes as you look down at the brute of a man below you, green eyes that meet yours with visceral hunger evident in them.

He groans, adjusting his position to only push you higher on your bed as he psychs himself to believe that he’s deeper inside you. Both hands that were holding down your legs become one, strong enough to hinder your movement with only one as his arms. His free one now traverses down to your heat, pulling away for a second for his thumb to press down to your clit and rub it. His eyes become hooded as he takes a moment to watch just how your pussy responds to him. And when he looks up at you once more, loving the way your cheeks are stained with tears as your golden skin glows from the sweat beading down your temple. Your mouth opens in a small o-shape and he’s reminded that he’s the one that has you like this.

There’s something residing on his chest that he can’t quite identify the name of. He just has this longing to please you— to make you feel good. He groans once more, inserting a finger inside your entrance as his lips wrap around your clit. From the sudden intrusion, your body tenses up as the fingers that were clinging to your soft sheets become entangled in Toji’s dark locks. “Fffuck! Toji, I— I—”

You don’t know what you were going to say, the words tangling up inside your mouth as you feel a second finger inside of you. His thick digits stretch you out, leading you to gnaw on your bottom lip instead as a strangled mewl escapes you. Toji chuckles, vibrations being shot straight through your body.

“I love the way your body responds to me,” his deep voice reverberates in the sex-soaked bedroom. “I love the fact that I can make you get like this.”

Fingers plunging deep inside you until he can't see them, he stills his movements as he lets go of your legs and climbs up to meet your lips. Engulfing them, he swallows those beautiful sounds you make, turning them muffled. His digits curl inside of you simultaneously, feeling your thighs clamped around his hand as he does so. Your walls pulsate around them, feeling that familiar stir within your stomach as Toji still has your lips in a hold.

A high-pitched whine escapes you, fingers traversing the length of his body and getting rougher as you feel your orgasm nearly approaching. You don't have to tell him verbatim that you're about to cum, he knows your body better than you do.

Drilling his fingers inside you, it's no battle against him and your tight walls. He grounds himself on the bed, his erection pressing into your sheets more as he pulls away from your lips and focuses on your pussy.

He watches how his fingers plunge in and out, your juices dripping down from the crevices and to the palm of his hand. Oh, how you make such a mess of him. It brings a cocky smile on his face. And when you finally release, it’s even bigger, staining the sheets underneath you in a milky white that contrasts your skin. Your legs tremble as he thrusts into you one, two, three more times before pulling out.

His fingers are coated in your slick release, and he doesn’t hesitate to suck them clean. Your eyes meet him at the ministration, a heavy hum that falls from his chest that has your aching legs clenching and begging for more. With a breathy voice as you bring your hands to tangle in his hair, calling for his attention. Your eyes gloss with lust, widening as your bottom lip juts out as you tug him closer to you. “Want you in me,” you breathe. “Please.”

Usually, Toji would prolong this, have you beg for him or tease you relentlessly. However, those eyes of yours… And there’s a hunger that he shares with you that tells him not to wait any longer. With his chest bare for your wandering eyes, he reaches down to tug off his pants, making his erection more prominent than before. It still makes your heart jolt in anticipation and slight fright. Your body seems to react on its own, legs involuntarily spreading as you scoot closer to him. Your bottom lip perched in between your teeth, you gnaw on it as Toji doesn’t need to be told twice. He wants you just as bad as you him,

Thick and heavy length that plants in between your folds, his pre-cum makes his length glisten in the dim lighting of your bedroom and with your soaked pussy, it only adds to it. With a few fingers, he spreads your lips open, plopping his mushroom tip against the entrance to only rub against it. So much for not being a tease, he snorts to himself. He just loves the look of his cock sliding against your sweet cunt. It’s a sight he’s embedded in his mind when he’s not with you.

You whine, however, bucking your hips upward in a silent plea for more. Again, he presses the head of his cock against your entrance, a mixture of his pre and your release intermingling with each other. With a thumb, he presses down on your clit before slowly entering you. The intrusion is always a delicious pain that you enjoy, you shamelessly moan as your arms wrap around the expanse of his broad shoulders.

Ignoring the ache of your legs, you bring them to hold onto his hips as Toji grunts, always enjoying that slight flutter of your pussy upon his entering.

“Shit,” he curses, a sigh following it. “This pussy always feels so good no matter how much I stretch it out.”

It's your turn to drag him into a kiss, creating a wet sound to follow it as he bottoms out inside you. You can feel his eyes on you, traveling down the course of your body and you don't know why you thought it was normal in a relationship like yours. This complication of not having a name for each other, but holding intimate moments where he maps out the span of your body to memorize it. More than a simple situationship should.

That when he shares the utmost concern for you; when he asks questions that show more than polite concern when he comes across you at work; and when he stays a couple of more minutes to show you a little more care than he should; you don't know why you thought that was normal.

He takes the time (when he can) to take you out— even if it's just a bar. To treat you more than someone he sees to fuck even if it is the end game. This isn't normal.

And while he drills into your pussy, chasing after ecstacy, you can barely get out a coherent word let alone a thought, but you know that you're not mixing lust with love. You think you're falling— no, you know you're falling in love. So when you feel his cock twitch inside of you, you don't care about the possible repercussions. “Come— come inside me.”

He halts for a moment, never thinking he'd get the chance to do this. But when your glassy eyes open once more, he sees the certainty in them as you give him a little nod, “Do it. I'll take a pill.”

You milk his cock, a white ring forming around the base as he feels that same shudder of your legs from before as your mouth fixates back into that o-shape. You cry out, but it's cut short as Toji’s lips crash into yours. Quick squeaks that fly from your mouth instead, Toji can't help but chuckle at the sounds before he pulls away and those hazel eyes back on you. I love you.

That's all he has left to say, but of course, the words never leave his lips.

—

Your eyes are hooded, but you don't dare give into sleep. Toji's still resting in the bed beside you, eyes transfixed on you. Quirking an eyebrow, you nudge him with your finger. “What's on your mind?”

The corner of his lips twitches, but it's not to smile. Moreso a motion of questioning, contemplating if he should say anything at all. However, your curiosity kills, eyes squinting down as you inch closer to him. Your bare body presses closer. “C’mon,” you poke. “Say it.”

“Do you want more than this?” He asks, eyes becoming serious as he stares down at you. Your mouth goes dry because you think you know what he's asking exactly. Do you want more than… this? However, you feign ignorance.

“M-more than what?” You breathe, your stammer betraying you as Toji immediately calls your bullshit. His head tilts to the side, a knowing gaze on you.

“More than what I'm offering,” he continues to say nonetheless. “More than just meaningless fucking. Do you want to make this official?”

Your voice is barely above a whisper as you start to wonder if it's a trick question. If you answer, will he automatically end things? “Is that what you want?” There's a faint nod— one that has you taken aback. Still, you feel a surge of confidence when you immediately respond, “Then, yes.”

one (1) notification from gyomei plays ! thank you so much for playing the first chapter of fuck, marry, kill. please give us a rating along with feedback about the gameplay. looking forward to seeing you on chapter two.

#toji fushiguro x reader #toji x reader #fushiguro toji x reader #toji fushiguro smut #toji smut #fushiguro toji smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #toji x you #toji fushiguro x you #fushiguro toji x you #x black reader #x reader #tw: (n)sfw #toji fushiguro x black reader #toji x black reader #( 🎰 ) : game series.

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sturniololoco · 2 months

Note

can you do one where justin is in la visiting and all the boys start doing stuff (going out to eat, going shopping, etc) all without her and she starts to feel left out so she isolates herself until chris starts to notice and does something to make her feel better (her and chris are the closest)

Left Out

Sturniolo Little Sister (SLS) x The Sturniolo triplets

warnings: crying, angriness, jealousy, fluff, etc.

₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚

SLS’s POV

Today was a big day for my brothers and I: My oldest brother Justin was flying into LA to spend the week with us.

We were in the car, heading to the airport to pick him up.

Nick pulled out the camera and began filming an intro to the blog they were filming while he’s here.

“Are you excited?” Nick asked me, leaning over and holding the camera to show the both of us in selfie position.

“Heck yes!” I said, leaning over and smiling into the lenses with Nick.

“That’s good because we’re almost there!” Matt said as we passed under the green sign that said we were taking the exit to get to the airport.

“Hey guys!” Justin said as he saw us parked in the back of the parking garage.

He gave each of my brothers a hug, smiling into the camera that Nick had rolling.

I sat there excitedly, waiting for my hug from my big brother.

But it didn’t come.

“Sis, you cool with sitting in the back?” Chris asked me as he put the very back seat down before throwing Justin’s bags in the trunk.

“Oh-um yeah.” I said, not seeming like I had much of a choice, I quietly climbed in the back of the car.

I was pretty quiet on the ride home, giving up on trying to but into the conversation.

As we pulled into the driveway, everyone got out, except for me who was waiting for Chris to put the seat down so I could climb out.

But he didn’t.

He walked inside, carrying Justin’s backpack as they walked inside, leaving me in the car.

I tried to tell for him, text him, call him, but I didn’t get any response.

I eventually sighed and spent the next 10 minuets forcing my body through the small opening between the headrests to get into the trunk.

I eventually got and found the emergency exit button in the trunk.

“Mother fucker,” I mumbled under my breath as I rubbed my knee that I banged on the window of the car.

“What happens to you?” Chris laughed as I walked in, an unpleasant look on my face.

I rolled my eyes and mumbled,

“I’m gonna take a shower, I’ll be right back.”

After doing my skincare and hair routine and getting into some cozy pj’s, I walked down stairs,

To be met with an abandoned house.

I looked around, checking my brothers room which we’re completely empty.

After defending the stairs to the garage, I found that my brothers left me here by myself.

I had no notification from them either.

I slouched down on the couch and pulled out my phone, dialing Nick.

He didn’t answer till about 20 minutes later.

“Where the fuck are you?!” I shouted into the phone, letting my anger out.

“okay, chill the fuck out.” He said sarcastically back to me.

I rolled my eyes and responded.

“You just left me here! Where did you go?”

“We took Justin out to dinner and we’re on the way to top golf now.” He said.

At this, I felt my hear shatter.

I quickly hung the phone up, not even responding.

I willed the tears not to come, but they did anyways. They rolled down my face as I though about how they just left me out.

They didn’t even bother telling me! Justin hasn’t even talked to me once.

As the tears kept falling, I feel myself drifting off to sleep.

I feel myself being picked up and carried up the stairs. I open my eyes to see myself pressed against Chris’s chest.

“Shhh, go back to sleep.” He said as he opens my door and walked me to my bed.

As he played me down, he pressed a kiss to my forehead, saying his good nights.

But then it came flooding back to me.

I feel the tears come again as he pulls away. He noticed and kneeled down beside me, brushing some hair out of my face.

“Hey, what’s wrong sweet girl.” He asked, grabbing my hand and looking at me with a sad face.

“Y-You guys just left me here! A-And I was scared when Nick didn’t answer. And Justin doesn’t even wanna see me, he’s only here to see you guys and I-“

I began to rant, letting my feeling pour out. He climbed into bed next to me and pulled me into a hug, saying,

“Shhh, I promise that’s not true. And I’m so sorry we left you bud.” I nodded into his chest, hugging him back tightly.

As I drifted off to sleep again, I hear Chris’s soft words say,

“tomorrow will be a better day. I promise.”

The next morning, I was being lightly shook awake.

I opened my eyes to see Justin’s smiling at me.

“C’mon! We’re gonna go get donuts!” He whispered, signaling that it might be early.

I quickly shot up, smiling before throwing on a hoodie and following him out to the car.

“Hey kid, I just wanted to say I’m sorry. We left you out and I feel really bad.” Justin said as we pulled out of the Duncan drive through.

he grabbed my hand and gave it a little squeeze before looking at me with a sympathetic smile.

I smiled back, but mine was sincere.

I didn’t say anything, all I did was lean into him, resting my head in his shoulder as he held my hand.

“I love ya kiddo.”

Note: kinda short fluffy one. I’ll have some GOOD fics out tomorrow 😏

@idkwhosnyla @babypat08 @eyelessdemon00 @christopherowensturniolo @sturnsxx @freshloveforthefit @matty443355 @sleepysturnss @emeraldgreenbeautiesstu @sunsetsturniolos @hoesturniolo @x4nd3rsukz @chr1sgirl4life @sstvrnioloo @sturns-posts @chrisstopherfilmed @kylasrealityx @zoeysturnioloooooo @comet235 @islaasblog @sturnioloblogs @defnotayonna @mattsleftnipple03 @thematthewlover @mattsaq @idkhowtosleep

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whoreforharlow · 11 months

Text

Lost and Found

Author's Note: An angsty smutty Alpha!Jack fic inspired by some discourse I saw on both @19crimes and @killatravtramp blogs over the last few days about some ABO and alpha energy Jack, so S/O to them and their anons.

Warnings: cursing, unprotected p in v intercourse, a tiny bit of oral (both f and m receiving), size!kink, sub!reader, dom!jack, hair pulling, daddy!kink, dirty talk, choking, breeding!kink, forced orgasms, mentions of bodily fluids, 18+, minors dont interact. Think that's it 🤔

The heavy thud of the front door alerted Jack that you were home, still pissed it seemed. He was laid on the couch, Survivor reruns idly playing on the TV screen as he mostly attended to emails on his phone. He listened to you from where he was: the clatter of your keys on the entryway table, the clicking of your heels exchanged for light scraping of slides, the opening of the fridge door, the clink of what must have been a glass on the marble countertop, the glugging of what he was positive was your chilled wine, the momentary silence before a deep sigh, the second round of glugging before the scrape of slides disappearing down the hallway.

Jack released his own sigh, his feelings conflicting within him. He was still upset, assumed you probably were too, yet it took every ounce of energy to be angry with you. The two of you had been at odds for the last few days, small things that turned into big arguments. You two were frustrated with your own personal worlds and instead of seeking comfort in each other, you turned your shared apartment into a war zone. You both worked in high positions in your jobs, but that doesn't make either of you exempt from being denied by powers even greater than yourselves. That's how it ended up coming home with you both—wanting to assert control and dominance over anything, including each other.

You and Jack always had a very good dynamic going for you both. You both easily fell into masculine and feminine positions in your household, the two of you having a beautiful dance around each other that was completely in sync.

You weren't always like that, having lived on your own for so long, you had slipped into a masculine energy. You were the provider, the protector, the strength of your one person household. Being with Jack had shifted your priorities, falling into a softer, more feminine position, finding that you can trust Jack for those aforementioned traits. His presence let you breathe, knowing everything would be taken care of whenever he was around.

Over the last few days, your job had been demanding more and more from you. Your upset with Jack meant you sought comfort in yourself from the stress. The silent treatment took its toll on you, feeling like you needed to build up those walls again of being your own support. After two years of nothing less than princess treatment, you felt drained playing both roles again. You missed coming to him with your problems and him promising to take care of it, you missed discussing the future with him and planning out your legacy together, you missed coming home to flowers and a warm bath waiting for you.

Little did you know, Jack was also feeling the loss of your warmth. Missing your nurturing spirit, your tenderness, your sweetness after long days split between interviews, meetings, and studio time. Eating his meals alone at the kitchen island made him miss the nights you stayed up late just to spend an hour with him, he missed holding you close as you told him whatever was bothering him would pass, he missed your bubbly excitement as you showed him videos of silly puppies on tiktok, he missed you insisting that he should be the little spoon as you struggled to wrap yourself around his larger frame.

Today was going on day six of the silent treatment, and it was killing you both. Neither one of you could remember what you were upset about, but just knew you didn't want to crack first. For the most part, the two of you hadn't really seen each other, purposely so. You both took on more time at work, the cause of the disruption in your home, rather than the peace of each other's arms. The only time you two really interacted was when you were playing tug-a-war in your sleep over the blanket, if that even counts.

But there was something about tonight, the sigh of defeat that exhaled from your body that broke him. He lifted himself from the couch, following where he suspected you to be, his suspicions correct as he saw the steam escaping the bathroom door that was ajar. He slowly walked in to see your back to him in the glass shower, your forehead pressed against the tile on the wall as you let the spray wash over you. It broke his heart, knowing that on exhausting days like this you like to take a nice bath, a task that he added to his list of personal responsibilities. He felt like he failed you this week, his role of provider and care taker severely neglected, your slouched posture a testament to your physical and mental exhaustion.

Your ears perked up, hearing some rustling coming from beyond the sound of the rushing water inside of the glass cage you were currently in. You tried to ignore it, but the knot in your chest wouldn't let you, you tasked yourself with suppressing your sob. You took a deep breath of the steamy air, allowing it to soften the muscles of your lungs as you released a shaky breath. You decided against turning around, hoping he would leave soon so you could be at peace in the bathroom. Another sob attempted to escape your lips as you repeat that thought in your head. How you had come to the thought where you felt more peaceful without him than with him, even though it wasn't true, broke your heart and caused silent tears to stream down your cheeks.

Jack opened a drawer where you kept many unscented candles, always insisting that they were a blank canvas to not take away the shine of your choice essential oil, grabbing a few and the lighter. He began placing the lit candles around the room, making sure to not miss the corners because he knew the small fear you had when the corners seemed too dark. He grabbed a small rose and vanilla shower steamer: a small, circular, scent brick that can be used to turn a hot shower into a spa experience by releasing the fragrance. He turned off the lights, the new experience of the softer light catching you off guard as you blinked your teary eyes a few times, your hands coming to rest against the wall on either side of you as you resisted the urge to look up.

Undressing himself, he opened the glass door of the shower, turning on the second shower head and dropping the steamer under the hot water. You felt his body close to yours as he stood behind you in front of your shower head, the hot water no longer hitting your reddening skin. You stood there frozen, unsure of what to do, the tears still silently falling from your eyes. For a long moment, neither of you did anything, just standing close to each other in the steam. You wanted to play it cool, turn around and side step him, grab your towel and walk out of the bathroom, pretend you didn't even notice him, but you were frozen.

You felt a warm hand placed on each of yours that were still placed on the wall, his body finally coming to press against yours from behind as you felt his forehead drop to your shoulder.

"I'm so sorry, baby" you hear his voice crack, the vulnerability and sorrow in it. You released a loud sob, your body no longer holding back as you cried as hard as you've been wanting to. It was a cry from deep within: a cry of sadness, of loneliness, of frustration, of anger, of guilt, of hurt, of longing. Your body trembled as he wrapped his arms around you, turning you around so he could hold you properly under the shower spray. In your own trembling, you felt the heaving of his chest, the unevenness of his breathing, the slight wetness on your forehead, all alluding to the fact that he was crying too.

"I'm so sorry, too" you begin, but are quickly shushed.

"You have nothing to be sorry about. I'm the one that should have ended this fight sooner." Jack was always the one to claim responsibility in the relationship. He was never one to play the blame game, he believed that was childish,"little boy shit" as he would always say. If he was going to be the leader of the relationship, then his attitude is what carries the energy of the relationship. Even if you both came home with work frustrations, his attitude is what you matched. Had he left his own hostility at the door that day, had he cooled down your hot head, had he taken the initiative to keep the peace, this could have been avoided. There was a time, a place, a way, to present frustrations to each other, in a way that was productive and problem solving. But the day you both exploded, as the leader, Jack believes he should have been the one to de-escalate the situation.

"I shouldn't have taken my frustration out on you. I shouldn't have walked out during the fight. I shouldn't have turned my phone off. I shouldn't have let you worry all night about if I was alright or not. I shouldn't have let Urban's text be the only relief you got that I was safe. I should have stayed with you, I knew you needed me with you. I should have sat us down to talk instead of yell. I should have held you, because I know for a fact that you cried yourself to sleep that night, and probably every night since. I'm the one that should be sorry, baby girl." His voice was rough as he spoke, fighting to keep his thoughts in order as he was overwhelmed with emotions. He held you tightly, not only for your comfort but for his as well, one hand rubbing your back, the other on the back of your head.

You pulled away slightly to look at him, his face as red and puffy as yours no doubt, the sincerity in his eyes lit up by the numerous candles, the flames casting him in an angelic glow. Jack has always been your knight in shining armor, your safety, your peace, your rest. To hear him take full accountability, even though you were also to blame for this, bloomed a warmth in your chest that you had never felt before.

In the last two years, you and Jack had never fought like you two had done almost a week ago. It had never gotten as nasty or as ugly as that fight, the two of you completely out of bounds, making a mockery of any boundaries you two had set up; it was a no holds barred match of who could hurt the other more. It was sickening and you both were wracked with guilt afterwards, unable to even look yourselves in the mirror. It was emotionally bloody and brutal, not knowing that either of you could get that low. As much as you two loved each other and believed you'd be together forever, sitting in the aftermath of it, you both were scared that that fight could have been the end. The words thrown were blanks, you both knew that, but it still hurt like the real thing.

"I know you said I have nothing to be sorry for, but I am sorry. I love you, Jack, more than anything in this world. I can't describe how much I love you, I wish I could. You're all that I want, nothing is as important to me as you are. You're my everything Jackman Harlow, my whole world." You confess to him. "I shouldn't have said those things," you choke a bit at the thought, "I should never say things like that to someone I love this much. You only deserve kind words, loving words, uplifting words, supportive words. I'm so sorry, my love." You look up at him with pleading eyes. You knew that he had forgiven you, but he knew how much you required reassurance. He pulled you in again, holding you close as you cried again, whispering his love and forgiveness in your ear.

You leaned up to kiss him, your lips whispering an apology that words could never fully express. You both poured whatever you needed into the kiss, your hands grasping at each other for dear life, the two you a lifeline for each other in this moment. When you pulled away you felt his forehead lean against yours, his nose rubbing yours lovingly as you both smiled for the first in what felt like ages. The pain you both felt washing away as you two basked in each other's love. You looked up at him, the softest look of adoration on his face as he gazed down at you. The two of you glowing in the candle light, the warm floral scent enveloping you both, the water droplets marking the cleansing of your sins against one another. You finally felt like you could breathe, knowing that everything was right between you two.

After washing up, Jack wrapped you up in a fluffy towel, blowing out the candles and guiding you out of the bathroom. The two of you exchanged your towels for robes as Jack led you by the hand to the couch. He plopped down and pulled you into him, your body instinctively curling up into his side, taking comfort in his strong hold on you. He grabbed the remote, playing none other than both of yours comfort movie. He traded the remote for his phone, his thumb quickly swiping away as he ordered your go-to "sad-girl" meal, as you liked to put it, from the place that's open late down the street.

This is what you were used to. From the moment he held you in his arms in the shower, you were able to shut your brain down for the night. Jack always took care of you, your mind and body knew that, and for the first time all week you were able to rest. You were once again his princess: being hand dried and lotioned down after not lifting a finger to wash yourself, then being guided to watch your favorite movie while waiting for your favorite meal to magically appear before you, not a thought or care of how it came to be. This was what you were used to, this was how it was supposed to be. The man you loved babying you as you just basked in his gentle attention like a small child.

You of course fell asleep almost immediately, your body feeling safe and warm in his arms could shut down fully. When you awoke, about an hour had passed and Jack was squirming under you trying to get up to grab the food without waking you. You giggled at his attempted subtlety, and scooted for him to get up. You two shared your meal together, dopey loving looks on both of your faces as you fed each other, sweet kisses exchanged in-between bites. There was such a surge of feel-good hormones, so much oxytocin flooding both of your systems, pupils blown as you gazed at each other, the aphrodisiac of the chocolate cake you two split adding to the shift of the evening.

You pushed the now empty carton off of Jack's lap, the clatter of the forks hitting the floor not distracting you from what you wanted, no needed, in that moment. You straddled Jack's lap, both hands moving to cup his cheeks, your thumbs rubbing his shaggy beard, the hair longer than it was a week ago, making you giddy. You pushed your tongue into his mouth, a groan escaping him as he tasted you for the first time in what felt like forever. His hands ran up and down your thighs, landing on your ass as he gripped the flesh roughly, your hips pressing down to grind on him.

There was a hunger in you both, never had you two been able to go more than a few hours while in each other's presence without fucking. Spending six days, five nights, sleeping right next to each other without touching was a torture all in itself.

Jack was quick to move, his hands holding you to him as he lifted the two of you off the bed, walking you to the bedroom without breaking your kiss. Everything was rough and hurried, too much time had gone past and you refused to let more go by. The second your back hit the mattress, your hands were clawing at the belt of his robe, desperate to remove any barriers between the two of you.

You felt his lips moving down your neck, sucking, biting, licking whatever he could, moving down your body towards your stomach, but you pulled him up by his hair.

"No, Jack, I can't wait. I need you inside me, please, baby, I missed you." You weren't ashamed to beg him. Though the thought of his mouth on you made you shiver, you couldn't stand not being connected to him. Your confession made him smirk as he kissed his way back up to you.

"Turn me over," you softly commanded, your body twisting under him as you tried to get to your stomach. His hands went to your hips, guiding you to your knees as you pressed your front to the mattress. You presented yourself to him, wiggling your ass as you arched your back. He watched you from his kneeled position behind you, his hand stroking himself as he watched your hand come to touch yourself. You moaned as your fingers made contact with your neglected clit, sliding through your wet slit to collect some of your slick from your opening before returning to the aching bud. You turned your head, trying to get a glimpse of him behind you, catching his dazed expression as he watched you. You smiled with giddiness, loving that after all this time you can still turn him on this way. You dipped two fingers into yourself, wishing that it were his, and you let him know just that.

"Mmm, Jack. I've missed you so much, baby. Been so empty without you. Even now with my fingers inside me, I still feel empty. My pussy only wants to be filled with you." You moan to him, your hips rocking to meet your thrusting fingers as you try to reach the places inside you that only Jack can. You feel a warm hand on yours, pulling you away from yourself, his warm lips wrapping around your fingers to lick the wetness. You pull your hand back, both of them now gripping the sheets in anticipation as you bit your lip. You felt his tongue lick a bold stripe up your slit, making your eyes roll back and toes curl at the sensation, an appreciative moan escaping your lips.

You feel two of his fingers enter you, the large digits stretching you slightly as he moved them slowly, causing you to whine and rock back in an attempt to get more of the sensation. He chuckled at your eagerness, halting your hips with his unoccupied hand, his lips coming down to press kisses from your ass up your spine, all the while continuing to massage your walls.

"You're so wet for me, baby. All we did was kiss for a minute, and it's got you like this, huh? I shouldn't be surprised, this little pussy's always ready for me, ain't she?" He speaks slowly, his accent prominent as he watches in a trance as his fingers dip and curl into your pretty pussy. Your wetness dripped down your thighs, some dripping down onto the sheets, trails of it coating down his hand. He was always in awe of how wet you got, knowing it was just for him made him feel possessive of you. From somewhere far away, he could hear you whining for him, begging for more, begging for him to go faster, but he was entranced by the display before him.

He took pleasure in pleasuring you, your body belong to him and he took pride in the power he had over it, how he could command orgasm after orgasm from you, even when you thought you couldn't handle any more. He loved know your beautiful body was his to pleasure. He knew that every man on the planet wished they could have you, but he was honored that you chose to give yourself to him. He knew it was his responsibility to leave you satisfied and sated, that a goddess like yourself deserved nothing less than to have her appetite fed. And boy, did you have an appetite for Jack.

He was taken out of his trance when you had finally had enough of his teasing. You pushed yourself up from your position, his fingers slipping out of you as you turned around on the bed and crawled over to him. You eyed his erection, the heavy length barely able to stand up straight as it bobbed from its own weight between his thighs, the tip an angry pinkish red, shining with precum that had dripped a bit, the prominent vein pulsing which made your mouth water. You had plans to crawl into his lap, but seeing his perfect cock begging for attention had you changing your course of action.

You bent down low, taking his dick in your hand as you stuck your tongue out, licking from the base all the way up to the tip, your tongue curling as you licked the skin just under the head before taking him into your warm mouth. You hollowed your cheeks, sucking him a little harder than you should have, making him hiss and flinch slightly; you knew how Jack felt about aggressive head, but it was payback for his teasing. His hand found your hair as he pulled you back, as bashful smile on your lips as you batted your eyes at him innocently. He pulled your face right up to his by your hair, your hands coming to balance on his strong thighs.

"That wasn't very nice, angel." He scolds, making you giggle just a bit, his expression softening at the sound he missed so much. He smiled lovingly, pressing his lips to yours as he pushed you back on the bed, his body coming to lay between your bent legs. His hands rubbed against your torso, playing with your breasts and nipples, twisting and tugging the taut peaks, before rubbing your waist and stomach.

You wrapped your arms and legs around him, not wanting him to pull away from you at all, you ran your hands up and down his back and shoulders, around to his chest, up to his cheeks, and then around to the nape of his neck. Just kissing him like this made you dizzy, his masterful lips and tongue caressing yours in a way that made you feel like you could cum from just that.

You felt him lower his hips, his length rubbing up and down your slit, collecting the wetness. You pulled away from him, needing to breathe as you felt his tip bump into your swollen clit. You felt overstimulated just from the anticipation, your body feeling so close to release just from the proximity of him. It never took much for that first orgasm, honestly there have been times where just him filling you was enough to get you off that first time—you were certain this night wouldn't be any different than those times.

"Jack, baby, please," you whimpered, desperate for him, almost panicked with your craving for him, tears at the corners of your eyes, feeling yourself enter that subspace that you've been craving all week. That sweet surrender to him, the contentment of knowing he would take care of you, keep you safe, satisfy you completely, all while your mind slipped away into oblivion. You knew he would take care of your body as you let go over your grip on reality, nothing but pleasure washing over you as he worshipped your body over and over until he decided to give you the mercy of rest. You trusted him to gently guide you back to earth, pull you down from the clouds and wrap you in his arms, anchor you to him and ground you as your soul finds its way back to your body. You'd follow his loving whispers as he called you back to him every time without fail.

"I've got you, princess." He grunted as he pressed himself against your entrance, his swollen head a blunt force against your tightness. You felt him hike your legs up higher around his hips, pressing you open for him as he pressed his forehead to yours, his head angled down as he watched where you two connected. He pressed in, knowing that after all this time he still needed to be gentle with you. His size was always a bit of a challenge for him, intimidating, and sometimes discouraging, most of the women he's been with. He knew what your body needed, taking his time as he opened you up for himself. It was an almost spiritual experience for the both of you, the connecting of two bodies into one, it wasn't just sex to you two.

"Fuck, baby" he grunts, resisting the urge to force himself in too quickly, your velvety walls sucking him in at their own pace, slowly pulsing around him as he eased in. He swears he'll never get used to this. The wetness, the heat, the tightness that deliciously teeters on the line of almost too tight, the cushiony feel of your walls, and firm bump of your cervix once he's fully seated in you. All that accompanied by the pretty sounds that escape your lips; the way your almond shaped nails scrape at his broad shoulders, that dull pain being the only thing stopping him from busting his nut right then and there, grounding him in his euphoria; the way your back arches as he pushes in, your chest pressing into his as his hips continue to press into yours.

"It's so good, Jack," you slur, your hips lifting on their own accord to meet his, the slight burn from the additional force causing you to cum unexpectedly, a squeal leaving your lips as you pressed your chest into his, your head thrown back in bliss, his groan in your ear at your sudden clench around him. The feeling was light, not as intense as you know they will be, but nonetheless took your breath away as you came down with a smile on your face. You giggled a bit, turning your head to look at Jack whose breath was ragged, his sweaty forehead pressed to your shoulder.

"That was unexpected," you giggled, kissing his cheek and nudging him to look at you; Jack was seemingly more affected by the orgasm than you were. You finally got his blue eyes to open, his expression dazed as he formed a smile on his face.

"It took everything in me not to cum right then and there," he chuckled, picking himself up onto his hands like an extended push up. "You okay, baby?" He asked, looking down at you. He was now fully in you, but he was still ever concerned that he could have hurt you. His hand came to rub your cheek, a protectiveness coming over him at the thought of you hurt.

"I'm okay, daddy." You nodded to him, nuzzling his palm as you looked up at him with doe eyes. Your hands came to splay on his chest as he hovered over you, your legs bent around on either side of his slender hips. The position made you feel so small, his larger body caging you, his strong arms on display, his wide chest feeling powerful under your fingertips. Your small hands take a moment to roam his body, running through the soft hair on his chest, down his sculpted torso, his stomach flexing as you inch closer to where the two of you were connected, the skin there a bit ticklish. You continue your exploration, an awesome expression on your face as you appreciated his body. You knew he had his own body image issues, so did you, so whenever you could, you took the chance to just admire him.

"So beautiful," you muttered, mostly to yourself. "Just so beautiful," you repeated as you took your time to look at him, forgetting that the two of you were in the middle of having sex. "Missed you." This time you look up to his face, your heart breaking at the confession, a bubbling of heartache in your chest all over again. He felt your change of energy immediately, your subby space leaving your emotions fluid as all you could do was feel without thought. Your eyes began to water and your lip trembled, your breathing getting heavier as you reached for him to come down to you, needing to be held.

"I'm right here, angel. It's alright, I've got you." He reassured you, cooing in your ear as his arms came around your back to hold you to him, his lips coming to press to your teary cheeks. "I love you, baby. I'm not going anywhere", he kisses you passionately, calming your mild panic, your earlier feelings resurfacing before being forced away but his touch. You feel him move slightly, testing the waters, making you moan against his mouth. He was seated deep inside you, his girth stretching you out so well as he rocked inside of you, your wetness sounding out in the room as your hips moved to meet his shallow thrusts.

"So good," you mumble, his head repeatedly bumping your cervix making the pressure build in your stomach. "Like that, don't stop" you beg, your hands in his hair as you guide his lips to your neck. He slowly sucks on the sensitive skin there, no doubt leaving marks.

"This what you wanted, baby?" He asks, his lips moving against your cheek, his pace steady as he increases the pressure of his hips, you can barely speak, the added sensations taking your breath away. Your hips naturally continue their rhythm against his, the string in your stomach feeling like it could snap at any moment. Jack knows you're close, your core tightening around him, causing him to groan in your ear, setting you off. His arms are still cradling you to his chest, his body around you feeling suffocating as you writhe against him, this orgasm coming from deep within you as you clench around him like a vice, Jack unable to move as he grits his teeth together at the sensation. Your body continues to twitch as you come down, electricity still flickering throughout your body as your pussy slowly releasing its grip on Jack's dick, causing him to exhale through his flared nostrils.

Your body is limp, feeling like jello as you just lay there in his embrace, chest heaving, face flushed, pussy tender. You feel Jack pull out of you, but you barely have the energy to say anything as you just close your eyes and bask in the post orgasm sensations. You feel Jack slowly lower your legs from around his waist, turning you over, your body too exhausted and heavy to care. He's got you on your stomach, his hands coming to massage your back and hips, his lips on the back of your neck as he whispers how good you were for him, making you smile lightly. You feel him press behind you, his hand coming to your right thigh from your hip, hooking behind your knee as he brings it forward towards your chest. You wince slightly at the stretch, your hips having tightened from the previous position he had you in. The cool air blows against your sore pussy, a sensation that makes you squirm lightly as you try to bring your legs back together but his hand behind your knee stops you.

"Uh-uh, baby. I want you just like this." His face is pressed to yours, cheek to cheek, as he comes to lay on top of you, his dick rubbing your sensitive slit making you cry out in mild discomfort. He shushes you, his face coming over to kiss you messily, lips and tongue twisting and smacking against each other, his hand leaving your knee to palm your tender breast. He takes your distraction as a chance to press into you, your pussy welcoming him as you let out the most pornographic moan he had ever heard. His forehead pressing into the back of your shoulder, as he slowly works himself into you, your walls still pulsing from your orgasm. You groaned at the mild discomfort as the wider part of his dick worked its way into you, and he was quick to whisper comforting words into your ear.

"Daddy," you whined, your hips shifting in an attempt to escape the feeling, but his hand came down to hold you in place as he continued pushing into you.

"Be a good girl for me, princess. You can take it, just relax. Just like that, pretty girl." He groaned his words into your ear as he pressed all the way in, his hand leaving your hip to rub your clit. You squealed and grabbed his wrist, pulling him away.

"Too much," you babbled into the pillow, making him chuckle and place a sweet kiss to your cheek. He began moving his hips, pulling almost all the way out before pushing back into the hilt, each time making your breath catch in your chest. His pace was slow and rough, his own knee coming up behind yours for additional leverage. You both could feel your wetness dripping from your pussy, making him glide in effortlessly into your tight passage.

"You feel so good, baby. So tight f'me, every damn time." He mumbled in between his groans. He picked up his pace, the sensations too good to resist as he started fucking you faster. It felt so good, the head of his dick rubbing against your g-spot with every up stroke and dragging against it on every down, you almost couldn't take it as you just moaned and groaned, babbling incoherently as he continued to fuck your pussy relentlessly.

"I-I-I c-can't," you finally formulated something remotely understandable, your hand grabbing at his hand that was holding your hip steady. You clawed at him, but he refused to ease up, grabbing your hand and pinning it to the bed before speaking to you.

"You can take it, baby. Yes, you can. This pussy was made for my dick, she can take it." He clasps your hand in his, the intimate act lost on you as your eyes roll back, your body attempting to coil in on itself as your orgasm flooded your system, a choked sob leaving your throat as the euphoria clouded you. With your ears ringing, you could barely make out Jack's groan as his body went rigid on top of yours, his hips sloppily thrusting as he attempted to fight against the clench of your walls holding him like a vice, a deep warmth filling your pussy as he came inside you.

You couldn't register anything as you both came down, heavy breathing was the only thing heard in the room as you tried to get a grip on reality. Your head was spinning, your body humming, your heart beating in your ears. The only thing keeping you down to earth was the heavy weight of your boyfriend on top of you, his hand still holding yours as he tried to catch his breath. You could feel him still inside you, even after cumming as hard as he did, he was still hard so you knew this was far from the end.

"You did so good, pretty girl, did so good for me. You're always such a good girl, aren't you? My best girl." You preened at his attention, and he could tell by the way your pussy fluttered that you enjoyed his words. He pressed soft kisses to the side of your face as he continued. "Did daddy make you feel good? You looked so beautiful when you were cumming on my dick, baby, prettiest thing I've ever seen. I love you so much, all I ever want is to make you feel good, angel." You blushed at his words, angling your head back so you could get to his lips, Jack happily obliging your silent request.

You felt him pull out of you, your legs coming together immediately to try to apply pressure to the soreness there. He stayed resting on top of you, knowing you needed to feel his skin on yours when you got like this.

"You okay, y/n?" You were so out of it in your sub-space, but the one thing that caught your attention was the usage of your name. He was giving you a chance to use your safe word if you needed it. That was something you and Jack practiced often when going into intense sessions. He would never use your name during sex, and when he did, it was to check in with you if he ever felt like maybe you needed a break.

"Green," you croaked out, signaling you wanted to continue. You felt exhausted, but this was what you wanted, what you had been craving all week. Your body felt light and heavy at the same time, your brain was mush and all your senses were clouded by Jack and you couldn't possibly ask for anything more.

You felt his body shuffle a bit, moving from on top of you as he came to straddle your ass, his thick erection sitting atop the fleshy mounds, glistening with a mix of your cums as he rubbed it in between the seam. His hands came to rub your back, just wanting to touch and feel your body. He watched how his two hands dwarfed your waist, curving around your sides, as he pressed forward to your shoulder blades; you looked so small under him, so delicate. He felt so powerful over you, his hands gliding across your beautiful skin, the sweat making you shimmer, the sweet sounds escaping your mouth as his fingers pressed in a certain spot.

"C'mere, baby," he whispered softly, his arms coming to wrap around you as he pulled you up to your knees, your body slumping back against his chest as he guided you to settle on his thighs, his erection against your back. You laid your head against his shoulder, his arms the only thing keeping you from plopping back down on the bed. You moaned uncomfortably at the heavy weight of your body, just wanting to go to sleep. With one arm around your waist, he used his hand to turn your chin to him, your fucked out expression making him smile to himself, a shy one of your own coming to settle on your lips as you blushed.

"You're so perfect, angel. My perfect girl." He commented with sincerity, his lips coming down to meet yours. You tiredly tried to keep up with him but were too exhausted, pulling away to nuzzle his neck as you caught your breath, your body twisting in an attempt to turn around in his lap.

"Uh-uh, princess. I want you just like this. Look up, pretty." He instructed, his chin nudging your head from his neck, for you to look forward, a large full length mirror situated right in front of you two. You took in your disheveled self—your two French braids frizzy and falling apart, your neck and chest and breasts covered in blotchy reddish-purple marks, your hips with slight marks from when Jack had gripped you a bit too hard, your skin sweaty and shiny, your lips puffy and swollen just like your pussy. Your eyes flitted to Jack seated behind you, his large upper body barely obstructed by you sitting in front of him. His skin was flushed red, his sweaty hair sticking to his forehead, his plump lips swollen and well kissed. His hands had moved to rub your thighs, hips, stomach, breasts, anything he could grab onto. It made you moan, seeing how big they were against your body, how much of you he was able to grab in each handful, it drove you crazy.

Your hand moved to rest on top of his, seeing the size difference almost had you moaning. You loved that he was bigger than you, it turned you on and he knew it. You guided his hand up your body, allowing him to feel the dips of your curves as you brought him to cup your chest, your back arching to fill his hand with the delicate flesh. You closed your eyes as he massaged your breast, his fingers tweaking your nipple, twisting and pulling the way you like. You angled your head back, your lips latching on to the spot you knew he liked under his jaw, your ass grinding back against his lap as you spread your legs a bit wider over his thighs. You brought your hand atop his other one, guiding it to where you craved him most, the long digits finding your dripping cunt.

"Please, daddy."

That was all he needed, his hand coming to cup your sex, the external pressure having you grind down in his palm for some friction. He let his middle and ring finger slip between the folds, rubbing back and forth to the rhythm of your hips. You wanted more as you whined, attempting to angle your hips to have his fingers slip in. You felt frustrated, fucked out but not fucked enough; you wanted more, all the while not sure if you could take it. You felt your breathing pick up, defiance rising up in your chest at your frustration with his actions, or lack thereof, so you did the only thing your subbed-out mind could think of—you bit him.

A sharp slap to your pussy had you yelping, your body pressing back into Jack's to escape the feeling, pressing into his erection, making him groan.

"That wasn't nice, princess. Behave and I'll give you what you want." He admonished. "Raise up a little for me." He instructed with a tap to your thigh, your body leaning forward and away from his as he rubbed his dick through your folds again, collecting as much of the slick as he could, knowing that you would be sensitive. He tapped his dick against you a few times, the head hitting your clit and making you jump before pushing into you. He held your hips tight, making sure to control the pace as he watched your scrunched up face in the mirror, knowing that initial press-in would be uncomfortable.

He was slow, pushing in a little bit and holding you there, his hips bouncing a bit as he pulsed his dick inside of you. As he'd watch your face relax, he pressed in a little bit more of himself, thoughtfully watching your reactions in the mirror. It wasn't until you started meeting his pulses with rocking hips did he slide in the rest of the way, one of his hands leaving your hips to rest on your stomach, pulling you back against him as you sat perfectly on his lap, his dick fully inside you.

"Open your eyes, baby girl. Lemme see those pretty eyes." Your eyes flutter open, your eyes lingering on the sight in front of you for a moment before meeting his. He looked in awe of you and it made you blush, but you held eye contact with him. His lips landed on your shoulder, his eyes never leaving contact with yours. The two of you sat like that for a moment, just taking everything in.

Your arms felt limp, but you willed them to wrap around his neck, your head turning to kiss him, his soft lips caressing yours. Your hips shifted a bit, making you pull away to gasp, the new angle hitting your cervix in a way that was intense. He noticed your expression, your brows furrowing as your lips parted. You shifted your hips again and again trying to get used to the sensation, soft noises leaving your lips as Jack whispered encouraging words in your ear.

"You okay, baby? Talk to me."

"It's so deep, Jack. It's too much." You gazed up in his eyes, your soft, doe-like expression driving him crazy. You took his hand that was pressed against your waist, holding you to him, and lowered it further to your naval, pressing his hand against your distended tummy where you felt him. "I feel you right here, it's too deep." You whine, shifting your hips again, allowing his tip to rub against your cervix to emphasize his depth.

"It's not too deep, baby. It's right where it needs to be." He cooed, his hips rocking into you. His actions were slow but forceful, making your head spin as your arm that was still behind his head held on to him for dear life. You squirmed against him, whining and writhing, wanting both more and less of the sensation. You felt him hike your body up further against him, allowing him to raise up off his haunches as he pulled out and pushed back in making you squeal and try to push away from him. Both of his arms came to wrap around you, to keep you in place as he began fucking you, each thrust hitting your cervix and making your toes curl.

"There you go, pretty girl, there you go. Just like that, you can take it." He whispered in your ear, watching your face in the mirror. Watching the way his large body engulfed yours, the way your breasts bounced forward with every thrust, the way your hands clawed at his arms to try to escape the pleasure between your legs. He tightened his hold on you with one arm, his other skimming up your chest to rest on your throat as he picked up the pace of his hips, pulling your body down to meet his. He pressed his face into the side of yours, still watching you in the mirror, thinking about how he had never seen anything so beautiful before. You had one hand grasping his arm around your torso, the other pressed against his thigh in a failed attempt to push him away, your eyes were rolled to the back of your head, the whites of your eyes peeking out from under your lids, thin lines of tears running down your cheeks, your mouth was slightly agape as a small stream of drool dribbled down your chin, nothing but broken moans and the occasional obscenity falling from your swollen lips. He loved knowing he was the one to bring you to this fucked out state, no one else. He felt possessive over this side of you, making him fuck you harder with a primal need.

"You gonna let me cum inside you again? Huh, angel? But, you're no angel, are you? Letting me defile this pussy like this, fuck this perfect pussy like this, huh baby? Letting me fuck you so good, got my princess crying. Open your eyes, baby. Look at how good I'm fucking you." He instructs, his hand around your throat squeezing gently to get your attention. He gives you a few moments to heed his instruction and when you didn't, he fucked you harder, his hand around your throat tightening.

"I said open your eyes, darlin'," he grits out between his teeth with that derby accent, his own orgasm approaching quickly as he bit down on your shoulder. You opened your eyes, blinking away the tears, barely recognizing the woman in front of you being fucked senseless. You barely had control of your senses, your pupils completely blown as your eyes trying to figure out what to focus on. His face? Your face? His hands? Your breasts? His arms? His hips? Or the sight of his dick disappearing into your pussy?

"Look at how sexy you look. Such a goddess with this beautiful body, baby. I love you so much, look at you, what's not to love, huh? So sexy, so beautiful, so smart, so talented, so kind, so funny, so perfect. My perfect girl, my best girl." You can't help but let your eyes fall closed at his praise, but his hand tightening around your throat again caused you to reopen them. "Uh-uh baby. Keep'em open for me. I want you to watch me fuck you, fill you up so good with my cum. Is that what you want, princess? You want me to fill you with my cum?" He chuckles in your ear as you eagerly nod, your hips instinctively rocking back to meet his thrusts, desperate for his cum.

"Yes, yes please, oh god, yes. I need it, daddy, I need your cum, please," you babbled, words tripping over themselves as you looked at him in the mirror with a crazed look of desperation. You're begging for it, nothing will suffice except for his cum filling you up. You feel wild with need, your brain not comprehending anything but the absolute necessity of being filled with his thick load, as if your life depended on it. He loved it when you begged for him, especially when you begged for his cum, knowing how badly you wanted it in your sub-space.

"You're gonna let me cum in your pussy, huh? You're gonna let me fill you up so much it's dripping out of you? You've already made such a mess," referring to the puddle of wetness beneath you two. "I'm gonna fill this pussy up so good. Imma put a baby in you. Would you like that? You want me to put my baby in you? Want me to make you a mommy, princess?" You moaned at his words, your stomach coiling at the thought.

"Yes, yes please. Cum inside me, let me make you a daddy." You begged him, the thought of carrying his child making you hot with need.

"You want that, baby? You want everyone to know I'm the only one who gets to cum inside you? Mark you so everyone knows who you belong to? Have you waddling around with my baby inside you, your belly swelling as you grow our beautiful baby. You'd make such a good mommy, baby." His hands traveling to cup both of your breasts, his hips still keeping their same brutal pace. "I can't wait for these to swell up too, get all sensitive for me to play with." His twisting of your nipples making you groan, your hips moving faster against his as your orgasm starts closing in.

"Please, Jack. Cum inside me, let everyone know who I belong to. Please, I want to have your baby, make you a daddy, make us a family." Your words have him fucking you harder, faster, rougher. His own orgasm so close as his hand goes back down to your lower stomach, his hand pressing down on the area making you feel him even more. You yelp, trying to get away from the overwhelming sensation, but he just presses down harder.

"Don't run from it, darlin'. You said you wanted it, baby. You can take it. Let me fuck this baby into you." His free hand coming to rub your clit, making the coil on your belly snap with just a few swipes. You let out an almost pained groan, your body curling in on itself as your torso drops down to the bed, unable to to hold yourself up anymore, your position now resembling child's pose.

Jack's body is quick to come over yours, his hand still trapped between your thighs under your curled up body, his fingers still rubbing against your clit to prolong your orgasm. You're fully crying, sobbing, wailing, unable to escape the pleasure he was delivering, his hips still sloppily thrusting into you as he finally reaches his own orgasm. His hips press as deep as he can, your new position allowing him to press harshly to your cervix as he releases his thick load inside of you, coating your walls in the warm sticky substance, a sensation that has your toes curling. You both continue to lay there, both of your bodies twitching from the intensity of your orgasms, your pulsing walls continuing to milk his dick for more of his cum, short spurts still shooting out from the tip in his aftershocks. He pulls his hand from between your legs, a wet digit finding its way to between his lips before he offers you one as well. You sleepily take it into your mouth, not having the energy to tease him with your tongue.

"You did so good f'me, darlin'. So good. Such a good girl f'me, you know that. Gonna make such a good mommy to our babies one day. Love you so much." His words are gentle as he kisses your cheek, trying to gently begin bringing you back to the land of the living. You mumble something incoherent to him as a response, your brain too mushy to put together a proper sentence. You two stay like that for a while, his body draped on top of yours, his heat and weight a welcomed comfort after the fucking you had just endured. His hands massages up and down your arms, his heartbeat thumping against your back, the rise and fall of his chest a comforting lull.

"I love you, Jack. So much." You tell him, the clouds finally clearing from your mind. You pull your head up slightly, looking at the mirror in front of you to see the sight before you. His large body hiding yours beneath him made you feel warm and safe, a protective cage surrounding you. You reach your hand around, instinctively reaching for his curls to scratch at his scalp. You knew he needed some aftercare after such intense sessions, so you continued to speak to him.

"You're always so good to me, baby. You take such good care of me. You're all I ever need, Jack. Nothing else. No one else." Your voice is soft as you continue, feeling his arms wrap around you tighter. "I can't wait for us to have a family, you'll be such a wonderful father. You're already such a wonderful partner. You're my provider and protector, my rock and my support, my lover and best friend." You hear a sniffle muffled into your neck, knowing he just needed a moment to bask in your praise. You continue to scratch at his scalp, humming softly to yourself as you continue to ride that post sex bliss.

Once you feel him push up off of your body, you twist your upper body around underneath him, your lower bodies still connected by his softened member. You smile up at him, looking at him with adoring eyes that makes him want to fuck you all over. You take in his face, the space around his eyes definitely wet from what were probably some tears. Sex this intense always had you both emotional, all the hormones being released, the vulnerability of your nakedness. One of your favorite things about Jack was how he wasn't afraid to show you those emotions, knowing that he was just as safe with you as you were with him.

"Gimme a kiss, handsome" you softly command, his lips wasting no time in finding yours. The kiss is gentle and unhurried, full of so much love. When you both pulled away, he kept his face close to yours, his nose nuzzling yours, his cheeks rubbing yours, his beard making you giggle, a smile breaking onto his face at the sound.

You feel him start to pull out of you, your eyes wide as you wrap an arm around his back, your core clenched to lock him in, the pressure on his sensitive dick making him hiss and look at your wide eyed expression in question.

"No, baby. I need to keep it safe." You mumbled to him, remnants of your subspace peaking through. You didn't want to let him go, you didn't want it all to end just yet.

"You want to keep my cum safe, huh baby?" His voice is husky as his eyes darkened. You nod your head, your hips shifting against his as you hear the squelching of his cum inside you. "Okay baby, let's get you more comfortable then, huh. I need you to relax for me, okay?" You take a deep breath, unclenching your pussy, allowing him to maneuver your lower half around, laying you flat on your back without letting him slip from inside of you.

He was sat up, your legs spread apart, your feet propped up on his thighs, as your pussy stuffed with his now semi-hard on was on full display for him. Your thighs and his lap were fully drenched in the sticky wetness, your pussy was creamy with the coating of his first load that had dripped out of you. His fingers came to trace the swollen skin, playing in the mess you two had created. Your clit was swollen, peeking out from the folds like a sweet pearl, making him want to reach down and suck it between his lips.

"You think you can do one more, princess?" His eyes momentarily leave their gaze on your pussy to look up at you. You shook your head at him, but the flutter in your pussy let him know you were just playing coy. "C'mon baby girl, I know you can do it." His thumb finally resting on your clit, applying pressure but not moving. You moaned at the sensation, whining as your hips moved, his hardening dick starting to stretch you out once again. He collected some of the creamy essence from between your legs, his thumb brushing the shiny substance along your nipple before his mouth came down to claim it, moaning against the flesh at the taste. Your hand came to cradle his head to you, his lips mouthing at your sensitive breast while he palmed the other.

"Just one more," you whispered to him, the delicious fullness of his now hard dick inside you had you craving more of him once again. The sensitive sting of your stretched out opening dulled by the tension swirling in your gut. You felt him smirk against you, leaning back up to his kneeling position. He contemplated how he wanted to fuck you, but ultimately decided he wanted to be as close to you as possible as he made love to you.

Jack reached over to grab a pillow, folding it in half as he placed it under your hips before collecting your legs and bringing them together, gently pressing them forward to your chest. He was slow with the process, not wanting to hurt you as he leaned his body down against yours, your legs now over his shoulders, your knees against your chest. You felt a dull ache in your hips at the feeling of being folded in half. Jack's arms came around to cradle you from under your back, your head gently held in his hands as he brought his forehead down to yours. You both closed your eyes, taking deep breaths, enjoying the vulnerable and close position you two were in. You felt his lips on yours, his tongue leisurely gliding against yours, using this as a distraction as he rocked his hips, making you pull away to catch your breath.

"Oh god, Jack." You moaned, the position of your hips being propped up made for his pelvis to rub against your clit. You could hear all of the filthy sounds of your wetness as he began thrusting gently, fucking his cum inside of your pussy. You could feel some of it dripping down from your slit, tickling the seam of your ass cheeks, knowing it was pooling down on the pillow, but you didn't care. He continued to kiss you passionately, making love to you as he used his hands to caress your face, your own doing the same to his as you held him close to you. As much as you both loved fucking, there was nothing like good ol' love making.

"You feel so good around me, baby girl. Fucked you so hard all night and you're still so damn tight around me. This pussy was made for me, wasn't it, angel? Your heart was made for me. Your mind, body, and soul was made for me. No one else, darlin'." His confession, in combination with the pressure on your clit and in your pussy was enough to make you cum, your walls tightening around him as your wetness dripped and squirted, Jack's hips grinding and digging into your pussy to prolong the experience for you. You felt it from your head to your toes, the fire that licked through your veins and swelled in your chest. He kissed around your face and neck as you caught your breath, his lips collecting the salty sweat and tears that fell from the corners of your eyes.

"So perfect." He praised as your breathing leveled slightly. His hips went back to his soft thrusting, his orgasm not too far behind as he felt his balls tighten. He leaned his forehead against your cheek, his head angled down to watch your pussy swallow his dick again and again, both of your cum glistening on it whenever he pulled out, still in awe of how something so tight could accommodate his huge size.

"Please fill me up again, daddy. I need it again." You babbled, catching his attention. You wanted to feel him spilling into you again, the sensation truly addicting as he always filled you up with so much cum each time. "I want to stay so full of you, I want every last drop. Can you do that for me? Can I have it? I've been such a good girl for you, I deserve it." You felt that subspace creeping up on you again, feeling emotional at the thought that maybe he would deny you his cum. He rested his head against yours, both of you cradling the other's face in your palms as you held eye contact, soft grunts coming from both of your lips as Jack's hips sped up.

"I'll give it to you baby, I'll fill you up again and again, keep you filled up and stuffed with my cum. Keep it safe in your womb until you're pregnant with my child. Let everyone know how good I fuck you, how you let me cum deep inside you." His words were cut off by a guttural groan, his stomach clenching as his hips sputtered, his cum filling you up for the third time tonight, the hot substance right against your cervix as he teased his sensitive tip against it to prolong the stimulation. His body felt heavy, but he made sure to lower your legs before collapsing on top of you. His head laid against your chest, as he heaved in a shaky breath, his body twitching with aftershocks, his balls still clenching to try and empty themselves fully into your pulsing pussy.

"I love you, baby, so much," you heard him whisper, his body completely spent, as you used whatever energy you had left in you to scratch at his scalp.

"Love you too."

#jack harlow #jack harlow smut #jack harlow angst #jack harlow fanfiction #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow imagine #s just made another one

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jasonsmirrorball · 6 months

Text

TONIGHT YOU ARE MINE JASON TODD (7.8K)

synopsis you hadn’t meant to screw it all up. only a few months ago, you’d been spending your nights in a bed that wasn’t yours, sure that it would last. it was always going to be him, and then suddenly it wasn’t. OR: an au where jason is your band's guitarist and one single review makes your world come crashing down.

cw: gn!reader, afab! reader, band!au, breakup, angst, self loathing reader, exes to lovers, stephanie brown is a meddler, roy harper cameo, porn with plot, car sex, exhibitionism, piv sex, minor spanking (like once), emotional/angry sex. minors and ageless blogs dni or you will be blocked

Everyone in the crowd can sense the underlying tension. Only a year ago, you’d spent the majority of tour unable to go five minutes without reaching for or looking Jason.

You’d feel sorry for tonight’s crowd, the last night of tour is always supposed to go out with a bang, but you haven’t been able to so much as approach the pretty guitarist this evening without feeling heat rise in your chest, wicked curls of anger licking at your wounds everytime you near him. November skies descend on the crowd with a chill rivalling your own and you stay a good range away from the taller man at all times, repelled like opposite poles.

Jason, similarly, keeps his eyes on the strings, a hard edge to his jaw.

On the drums, Steph flicks her eyes between the both of you, sharing a thinly veiled look of discomfort with one of the sound technicians backstage.

It’s been like this all month, and though the both of you had managed to keep it somewhat professional it’s clear everyone has begun to feel the weight of the awkward silences suffocating the dressing room. The blonde fears if you open your mouth at all, no one will leave the room alive, lips often pursed so tightly as though you’re keeping a barrage of words locked away.

You refuse to look at Jason at any given moment, and though your voice remains level when you address him, it isn’t so much an address as it is talking at him, instructions doled out like a military seargent, stiff and impersonal.

There’s no shadow of the playfulness that had just about driven her insane in the spring, no lingering touches and the stolen kisses in the summer when you’d still thought no one had caught on. (They’d all been very aware, given the poorly hidden love bites on the guitarist’s neck and the added secrecy in your shared grins) No whispers in the dressing room, no ganging up on Roy–she felt as though she’d fallen into the worst timeline.

They’re coming up on one of their most popular songs, and Steph’s feeling the heat of the stage lights despite the bite of late Fall, beads of sweat crowding at her temples when you fiddle with your mic on stage and there seems to be no intent of committing to your usual tradition. If the crowd hasn’t already picked up on your obvious tension, they’re sure to when you’re singing almost in the wings instead of wrapping yourself around Jason like you’d made sure to every single concert since your first big gig.

It’s fine, she tries to assure herself, but her eyes track your movement and you’ve planted yourself firmly away from him and she knows the media is going to have a field day with this. She can already see the headlines, every quack with expertise in body language is going to be crawling out of the woodwork to analyse this–and the worst part is, they wouldn’t be wrong. Her own despair is painted on her face in a frown that she isn’t so sure she can explain as concentration.

Roy, nearby, looks over his shoulder and she can tell by the slant of his mouth that he’s displeased. He mouths a single word at her.

She looks back to you, to Jason, to the crowd. You close your eyes, arms outstretched as you spin in slow circles, and Jason picks at the strings of his guitar, lifting his eyes only for a moment to gaze at you. It’s the confusion painted on one of the front row attendees that seals her decision.

Blue eyes narrow at Roy and she tips her chin in agreement.

“No.”

“Are you serious?” Steph explodes in front of you, hands flying up. You look at her evenly, sat on the couch in your dressing room, nursing the bottle of water you’d snagged from the fridge. You’ve changed out of your outfit into something looser, feeling the itch to get out of the get up the moment you’d stepped off stage and into the wings.

“Does it sound like I’m joking?” you snap. “I get you guys are concerned, but you need to stay out of it.”

“How are we supposed to stay out of it when the both of you can’t even be normal around each other?” she retorts, flicking a heavily hairsprayed lock of blonde hair over her shoulder. Her face gleams in the aftermath of the concert, eyeliner smudged and lipstick all but faded on bitten lips. Even out of her get up, she still looks formidable.

“Listen,” you say, feeling your chest twist uncomfortably under her piercing gaze. Your hands feel slippery around the cold plastic, and you fiddle with the label, picking at the corner with your fingernail. “I’m sorry we went and made things all weird, but I didn’t mean to. Pretty sure he’ll tell you the same thing. But what do you want from me, Brown? It’s just gonna take a bit of time, I don’t know what else to tell you.”

And it’s the truth.

You hadn’t meant to screw it all up. Only a few months ago, you’d been spending your nights in a bed that wasn’t yours, sure that it would last. You’d never been so careless with anyone, ever, but it was Jason.

The sound of his name, the very thought of him, empties your lungs of air. He had always been there, constant, steadying, Jason. It had always been the both of you in this together. His had been the hand you sought for when the flashes got to be too much. When the homesickness hit hard and you spent days in bed skipping out on rehearsals and meetings it had been Jason who’d showed up and shoved you into the shower and sat outside talking to you the entire time, who’d stripped your bed and replaced the sheets.

It was always going to be him, and then suddenly it wasn’t.

How were you supposed to come back from that unscathed? How the fuck were you supposed to go back to teasing touches on stage and near kisses over your microphone like it didn’t mean a thing?

You hadn’t lost your boyfriend, in that fight, but your partner, too. Steph and Roy were your best friends, too, but Jason was your heart. And you’d gone and broken it all on your own.

Steph must see it in your face, as you slump back into the couch, because she sighs, dropping down into the seat next to you. She kicks her shoes off, sneakers hitting the floor a few feet away with a thud and she curls into your side, pressing her cheek to your shoulder.

The TV in the corner switches on and some late night talk show provides a soundtrack for you to sit in your despair.

What a way to finish the tour.

You throw yourself into Jason’s arms with a drunken giggle and he catches you, arms coming up to steady you, an easy grin on his handsome face. In the dim light of the dive bar, the shadows sharpen his already strong features, teal eyes boring down into yours affectionately. You reach up with a careful hand, running your thumb under his brow where a speck of glitter lingers on his skin.

“Hello,” he rumbles and you can’t help yourself, pushing yourself up in his lap to slant your lips against his.

“Hi,” you breathe out, starry-eyed.

“You were amazing tonight,” he tells you, stealing another kiss before tucking you into his side and taking a swig from his bottle. His arm lies heavy around your middle, anchoring you to your seat on his thigh. Across the booth, at the bar, you can see your bandmates arguing as they wait for their drinks.

“Me!” you exclaim, reaching for the slice of pizza on the table. “You were amazing. And distracting. D’you have any idea how many times I almost forgot what I was singing ‘cause you looked at me?”

He laughs and the sound reverberates through your back, drawing a smile from you. You think you’ve barely spent a moment tonight not grinning, feeling the rush of satisfaction from playing the crowd. It’s been a good night–but then again, every night seems to be a good night, you think to yourself.

How could you not be happy, when it feels as though everything is finally going right?

Jason takes you home that night and kisses you silly in the back of the cab, fingers trailing dangerously under the hem of your shirt and swallowing your whispered protests in his mouth. And when you get home, he draws them from you tenfold, the noise spilling into the air of his bedroom where he can savour them uninhibited.

Having the boy in your bed, the stars within reach, soaring towards the sun, higher, higher with no end in sight. You are foolish to believe it’s everlasting. Being on top of the world blinds you, so focused on the clouds brushing your face that you forget the danger of misstep.

The end comes on a Wednesday afternoon, when a missive of 2000 words and an unrelenting pen strike you down where you stand, shoot you midair like an arrow. Falling feels like flying but you’ve never felt fear in the air til now.

Freefalling, you are stripped down to your barest parts and sewn back together with a few clumsy words–you can’t help but feel as though you’re missing an organ.

Only the combined efforts of your manager and Jason pull you from bed, four days of missed rehearsals are all they give you to mope before he storms the fortress.

“Up,” he demands, moving throughout your room and throwing the curtains open. Afternoon sunlight streams in, bright and merciless against your internal plight. Jason tugs the covers off, eyes blazing with forceful determination when you make to pull it back. “No. You need to get up. We gave you space, now you gotta get it together.”

An unintelligible noise is your only response, rolling over onto your stomach and groaning into your pillow. You’ve spent your tears, but you can feel your face burning once more and you refuse to let him see just how much this has affected you.

Your name leaves his lips, stern and stripped of its usual affection. “Cut the shit. You got a bad review. ‘S not the end of the world, kid. You can’t spend the rest of your life letting it get to you.”

You want to scream at him. You want to take him by the shoulders and yell, did you read the same article? How can you be so unfeeling?

A nasty, bitter part of you whispers that of course he wouldn’t understand. Why would he? They had nothing but praise for him, the pretty boy wordsmith of your band whose pen had produced the best of the band’s discography. And you know it isn’t unfounded, you know you’re being unfair–Jason is talented. You’d known it at seventeen, when the both of you had been messing around on his dad’s piano and you know it now. You’ve always loved him for it. He’d always celebrated your successes, you knew he deserved every bit of recognition he got.

You only wish it hadn’t come at your expense.

Green curls around your senses as he wrangles you out of bed and into the bathroom, leaking through your veins and only thickening as you wash yourself of the last few days.

When you emerge from the steam, it is with vengeance and a vow. Reborn, you gather what you can of your wings.

You’ll fly once more.

There are 15 unread messages on your phone and the light of the recording studio is the only thing keeping you company. The clock on the wall points to it being well into the night.

Your eyes burn as you stare at the pages of your notebook, ivory filled with scribbling you can make little sense of. It’s a brand new one, blue skinned and thick, pages pressed flat with disuse. All around the small coffee table you kneel in front of lie your old books, sheaves of loose paper fluttering under the expulsion of air from the nearby fan. Lines on lines of old writing, crossed out and highlighted and annotated with blood red ink, surround you.

Your muscles lie stiff in your back and hips, fingers curling around your pen. Empty bags of takeout lie abandoned and emptied behind you–you’ll surely be told off in the following morning when your manager returns, either for staying to work so late into the night or for bringing food into the studio.

“Do you plan to go home at all?”

You don’t flinch at the sound of Jason’s voice behind you. His reflection stands in the glass of the studio window, filling out the doorway in a manner that anybody else might find threatening. You ought to, too. There’s displeasure in his voice, disappointment in your habits.

Jason lets you get away with most things. His temper is sweet, at least where you’re concerned. You’ve never felt the need to test it, and rarely have you been the subject of his ire, so softened by time that it takes a great deal to be drawn. You’re used to his indulgence, his saved smiles and the gentleness of his hand and tone. This is a stark contrast to the honeyed words he reserves for you.

But it’s also your new normal. And isn’t that an awful thought, that you’ve grown used to it now, having heard it enough times in the last few weeks for it to lose its weight. Disappointing him, once upon a time, might’ve destroyed you. At seventeen, you couldn’t bear the thought of letting him down. But you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve caught his doleful look cast at you, mouth drawn in a hard line so uncannily like his father–another person you’ve let down, you’re sure, from the messages in your phone from him sitting untouched.

“I’ll go home when I finish,” you say tersely. Or you try to. It comes out mumbled, eyes tracking across your notes.

“Yeah?” Jason asks, stepping further into the room, shadow moving in your periphery. His voice is unimpressed, and you can sense the lecture coming. “When, exactly, is that gonna be?”

“Jason,” you hiss out, raising a hand as if to say, please just don’t.

“What.” he bites out and you squeeze your eyes irritatedly.

“Look, just–I’m busy. I’ve got to work on this. Go home.”

He ignores your dismissal and moves into your line of sight, and you stare stubbornly at your notes. Even when he drops to his knees across from you, you stare as though through sheer will, the lyrics will write themselves, letters spelling out onto the pages what will bring you back to grace.

“Work on what?” he presses, and you can feel your own temper beginning to burn. “You’re dead on your feet, you’re not gonna get anything done if you can barely keep your eyes open.”

“I’m–” you try, but he grabs your pen. You grab another, clenching your jaw so hard it hurts and his temper bursts.

“Will you look at me?”

He grabs your chin, and when you look at him finally, he is wide eyed and pleading but you are too far gone, poisoned by your own words and fears. Not even he could bring you back now, you have ventured out of Elysium, where he cannot reach. You find yourself apathetic, jagged, unflinching in the face of his tears. Cruel, and someone neither you nor he know.

“What is with you?” he demands and in the yellow light he looks a little crazed, hair messed and chest heaving, eyes electric green, almost luminescent. “You don’t talk to anyone, we barely see you, you don’t answer your phone. I’ve been trying to reach you all week, I–”

His face twists and you watch angry tears splash against his cheeks. “I thought something happened to you, you fucking idiot,” he seethes. “What is it, huh? You go totally ghost on us–on me and I find you here working on–what even is this? You never keep stuff from me.”

You watch the moment you break his heart when you shrug out of his hold, crystalline eyes fracturing when you scowl. His shoulders slump and you find just another thing about yourself to loathe.

“I’m fine,” you insist, your breathing growing shallow. Red and green cloud your vision, anger and envy spilling into your every word. “You know, I have my own shit. I don’t have to tell you everything.”

He looks helpless, confusion swimming in his expression. “I…I know that.”

“Do you?” you demand and he blinks rapidly. “You wouldn’t be barging in here like you have the right to know everything I do, if you did.”

“What?” Jason questions, but you’re determined to cut him now, your own angry tears blurring your vision.

“Listen, we can’t all be great like you, okay-”

“-That’s not fair-”

“Some of us,” you say loudly, “have to put in a little work because it doesn’t come to us naturally. We can’t all be goddamn prodigies, so excuse me if I’m just trying to catch up. I thought you’d be happy that I was finally putting effort into this band.”

“Hey,” he snaps. “I’ve never said you didn’t put any effort into this band. You know that I know you work hard.”

“Then what the fuck is your problem?” you exclaim, scrambling to your feet and he follows. The both of you stand toe to toe in the studio, heat in your faces as you descend into what is the first proper argument you’ve had in years. Part of you is screaming not to let it get this far, to quit while you’re ahead, while it’s still salvageable, but it’s drowned out by the roaring in your ears.

“My problem!” Jason echoes, scoffing. “You’re the one who’s lost it.”

“I’m doing this for the band!” you roar and you swear you see lightning in his eyes, teal blazing as he bears down on you.

“That is such bullshit,” he snarls and your heart quivers in its cage. “Do what you want but don’t stand here and lie to my fucking face like all of this is about the band. This is about you!”

You stand, silent as his voice breaks, anger filling the cracks like lava. “This is about you and this…complex you have, like you can’t ever be happy because you care too much about what people have to say–people who mean nothing. And I’m here, telling you otherwise but it’s like you’re so fucking determined to not hear me–like you wanna do it alone. We’re supposed to be in this together.”

It’s a plea and a reminder. Even in his anger he begs, beseeching you to remember, like it’ll somehow get through the wall you’ve constructed between the both of you to remind you–It’s you and me, kid and clasped hands in the back of the bus and the first demo and–please remember.

All you can hear is the whir of the fan in the wake of his words. Jason stands in front of you, grief lining the features of his beautiful face and you feel as though he will never be this close ever again. You can say nothing, your own tears spilling silent, dripping onto your collar. He closes his eyes, and nods, once. The very air between you shifts and you can feel the moment your heart cleaves in two.

“You wanna do it alone,” Jason says again and he sounds very, very tired, echoing your unsaid decision. He runs a hand over his face, and you hear him take a shuddering breath. “That’s fine…I won’t stop you. I hope it makes you happy.”

He turns and walks out of the room.

At your feet, the empty pages flutter.

Steph and Roy are, as far as they’re concerned, the best friends in the world. You aren’t so convinced.

In the week that follows the end of tour, you all return home. You hear little from Jason, who only speaks in the band group chat, but you aren’t expecting anything anyway. When you recall your words that night, you flinch. His expression is burned into your mind, and you don’t think you’re likely to forget it any time soon. Steph invites you out regularly, both directly and in the group chat.

You decline. And decline. And decline.

The pages of your notes remain ever unfinished, and the walls of your writing studio grow increasingly familiar. You think you would know it blindfolded. Pale winter sunlight does not fall here except in thin, ribboned streams, and when you return upstairs, it’s long after sundown. You’re lucky to see a few hours each day before you’re descending into the studio, determined or desperate you aren’t sure.

Jason has always been quiet on social media, but all of a sudden his face is plastered everywhere. Neither of you have removed the other–you think your manager would actually cuss you out for the stir that would cause. She hadn’t been pleased at your dating, and even less pleased at your separation, brown eyes narrowing at you in a way that left you wondering why you’d hired her at all.

His brother posts a photo on their family ski trip, and your heart twinges at the unknown girl in the background tucked next to him on the couch, pretty and beaming in a way that is effortless. Jason sits beside her with a half smile playing at his lips. Her account is private, and you switch your phone off when the feeling in your chest at finding he doesn’t follow her feels a little too much like relief that you have no right to feel.

January rolls around. You ring in the New Year alone, over a spread of sheet music and Thai food.

The world is blanketed in thick, powdery ice. You leave the house when even ordering in loses its charm, craving the warmth of a meal not delivered to your door, and the wind nips at your nose. The scarf around your neck belongs to someone else, but you had reached for it instinctively, hanging around the post by your front door, on your way out. Its weight is familiar in your hands, and your jaw aches as you loop it around yourself.

Lovers huddle close together in the streets, giggling when their shoes slip against the iced over pavement, and you avert your eyes. Holiday music filters through the speakers indoors, familiar jingles you might’ve found amusement in on any other occasion. In the produce section, you stare blankly at the array of greens, and end up exiting laden with a bag of groceries you don’t remember putting into your basket.

Back outside, you linger outside the store, listless and distracted. It’s then that you hear the call of your name, and a flash of blonde hair appears in your periphery.

“Hey!” Steph chirps, smacking a kiss on your cheek affectionately, arms winding around you tightly. “I haven’t seen you in ages! I didn’t expect to see you today.”

You squirm in her embrace, feeling your face flush. “Hi, Steph,” you murmur.

She pulls away, blue eyes bright and assessing as she takes you in. She’s lovely, pink cheeked and wind bitten. You know what you must look like, pallid and a little sickly from the lack of sunlight and you fidget, self conscious.

“You look like shit,” she says baldly, and it startles a laugh out of you. She grins at the sound of it.

“Thanks, Brown,” you say dryly, feeling a little easier. “You know exactly what I wanna hear.”

“What can I say,” she shoots back just as quickly, with a wink. “It’s a gift.”

“Definitely something, that’s for sure,” you mutter, cracking a grin and the both of you settle into silence. You eye your car in the distance, parked in the lot next to a red sedan, and then your groceries.

“I should–” you start, lifting the bag, but she cuts you off.

“Come out with us tonight,” she says, an oddly intent expression on her face, and you grimace. “We’re going to the place on Broad.”

“I don’t know…I’m making dinner. Maybe another time.”

You have little interest in dressing up to go out. You have even less interest in figuring out who the ‘us’ in question encompasses. But Steph’s got an unnervingly steely look in her eyes, like she’ll refuse any no’s you give her. Her lips flatten into a line, and she takes your hand.

“I haven’t seen you in months,” she says unhappily.

“You could’ve come by,” you remind her and she levels you with a deadpan look. Would you have let me in? Goes unsaid.

“That’s not the same and you know it. I miss you,” she stresses, and you have to give it to her–she’s good. Guilt curdles in your stomach and you avert your eyes. “We miss you. I’m the one who has to deal with Roy’s complaining now you’ve decided to hide at home.”

“I’m not hiding,” you mutter lamely, and she raises her brows pointedly, as if to say, really?

“Come out with us,” she says again, squeezing your fingers.

You sigh.

The snow has begun to fall in soft, light clusters when you get out of your car, streets twinkling in soft white and yellow. A snowflake lands in your lashes and you shiver when it dissolves, a minute stream of ice water running down your cheek.

Through the window of the restaurant, you can see your band mates tucked into a booth. Steph and Roy sit on opposite sides, already squabbling over something, and your heart slows when the latter leans across the table to point out something on his phone and Jason comes into view. Tucked into the corner, he watches the exchange with bored eyes, shaking his head when Steph turns to him. Don’t bring me into this, you can already read his lips, and that old familiar ache you’ve been nursing for the last few couple of months blooms behind your ribs once more.

You’re an idiot and a coward, standing on the side of the street debating on whether or not you should just go home.

In the end, your decision is made for you when Steph spots you through the window and bounds outside, making a face at you as she loops her arm around yours.

“Were you planning to stand outside all night like a freak?” she laughs, pulling you out of the cold and into the building. The rush of heat overwhelms you, rolling over you in waves as you enter.

“No, I was just…”

“Hm?” she raises an eyebrow, waiting for your answer. When she knows you can’t come up with one, her face relaxes. “I thought so. You’re here now, so come on.”

Whatever you think is going to happen when you approach the table is severely let down when you’re simply greeted with some semblance of normalcy. It feels like a farce, when Roy stands up to wrap you up into a hug that’s near bone-crushing, and over his shoulder, Jason greets you with a nod. Your throat is dry, and you think it feels worse than being ignored outright, dipping your head back at him as best you can from the grip your red haired bandmate has you in.

It’s a far cry from the outburst you had agonised over all the way here, imagining Jason fuming at the sight of you, refusing to even look your way. You’d thought maybe he might even leave, picturing his beautiful face colouring red and storming out–he’d more than have the right to. But that isn’t him, and he makes no move to leave his seat, slouching into the booth comfortably and taking a sip of the water in front of him.

You take a seat next to Steph and the movement feels like you’re cutting through water, limbs thick and heavy with unease.

The next hour moves agonisingly slowly. You feel every second of every minute, hyperaware of your movements and avoiding Jason’s eye as you eat. The muscles in your face have never felt more rigid, plastic smile holding you together as Steph and Roy weave conversation around the both of you.

The drinks come and go, various fruity drinks and margaritas littering the tabletop alongside your food. At some point, Steph wiggles out of the booth and pats your arm drunkenly, murmuring something about having to go to the bathroom.

“Do you want me to come with?” you ask, and she grins, giggling.

“No, no, no. You stay here,” she says. Strangely excited, she squeals and smacks a kiss on your jaw. You can’t help but grin uncertainly.

“Okay…”

The moment she disappears out of sight, Roy slides out of his seat too and mutters, “Be right back. Have to ask the waiter something.”

You frown. There’s something about the way he looks at you furtively, almost defiant, that makes your stomach twist. Your suspicions are allayed and then confirmed in a matter of seconds.

Several things happen. Roy walks to the register, pulling out his card and you scowl when he points at your table. But then, instead of returning, he bee-lines for the door. When you hear a drunken cackle and see a flash of blonde hair outside, you realise you’ve been set up–Roy and Steph booking it in the direction of his car.

A text comes through on your phone almost immediately, and you can feel your temper rise when you read Steph’s message.

jason need s a ruide and u gusy need to make up you can thank is layer xoxoxo i wanne be godmothed godmother csll me tomororw

“I’m going to fucking kill her.”

“You can’t tell me you came here and expected her not to meddle.”

The sound of Jason’s voice, directed at you for the first time all night, startles you. You turn to where he’s lazily picking at the label on his beer. He looks untroubled, if a little resigned to his fate for the night.

“You knew she’d do this?” you ask, confused. He lifts his eyes and you’re pinned to the spot.

“You didn’t?” he asks, like you ought to have.

“I–of course I didn’t,” you defend yourself. He raises a brow disbelievingly and you frown at him, a noise caught in your throat. “I didn’t.”

“Okay,” he says softly. He stares back at you, and you can feel your palms beginning to sweat. For the first time since you were children, you can’t read the expression on his face.

You worry your bottom lip with your teeth as you look at him. “Guess I’m driving you home, huh?”

“I can take a cab.”

You shake your head, grabbing your bag. “Save your money. C’mon. At least they had the grace to pay the bill.”

“‘S ‘cause they know we know where they live,” he rumbles behind you as you move through the restaurant. The waitstaff throw you a smile as you exit, but you’re too frazzled to offer a plain upturn of your mouth, a weak imitation of a grin as you open the door.

“Yeah,” you say absently. “I’m just down here.”

It occurs to you, just how small the space between the both of you is, when he opens the passenger door to your car and slides in.

“Where am I dropping you off?” you ask carefully. You look over and he lets out a scoff of laughter, shaking his head, as if your question amuses him. But he answers, a wry grin playing at his lips.

“My place, thanks.”

You nod.

The radio is off, and the silence prickles across your skin uncomfortably as the car drives down the icy road. If Jason’s bothered, he says nothing. You tap your fingers across the steering wheel.

God, what a sad sight you must make.

“I, um,” you lick your lips nervously. “I saw you guys went skiing.”

“Yeah. Old man wanted to do something with the family.”

You’ve spent Thanksgiving with ‘the family’ more than once. You know Jason’s various family members–the mystery girl was decidedly not among that company.

“Right,” you say. And you suppose something in your tone must tip him off, but then again Jason had always been very good at reading you. In your periphery, he turns his head and you hear him exhale softly, a bitter chuckle.

“You don’t get to be mad,” he says. His voice is devoid of anything, light as air, as though you’re discussing the weather. But still, you’ve been caught out and it makes your face warm.

“I know,” you say, hoarsely. You clear your throat. “I know.”

“You dumped me, you know,” he reminds you and you think that “I know.” is all you know how to say, echoing it once more pathetically. Grief fills the cracks in your heart when you hear the hitch in his breath, cool facade fracturing.

He says quietly, after a few moments, “I didn’t.”

You nod, swallowing past the lump in your throat. The image in your mind had plagued you for weeks, of bodies wrapped up and kisses shared over firelight. His words are a reassurance you don’t deserve. The car turns off the highway, and you bite your lip.

Quiet blankets the car for the remainder of the drive, your engine purring as you steer the car back down familiar roads.

“Jason, I…” your voice fails you when he turns to look at you, only a few minutes away from his place. “I’m sorry. For how it all went down, how I treated you in the end. I’m sorry.”

He exhales, a ragged breath like you’ve gut him, and you swallow. Misery leaks into your voice as you continue, the words coming out far steadier than you feel.

“You didn’t deserve that from me,” you tell him, gripping the steering wheel and looking over. The car comes to a stop outside his building, and you turn the key, the engine shutting off as you swivel in your seat to face him fully. “I should never have lashed out like at you, not when you were just trying to help.”

He sniffs, and even in the dark you can see the sheen in his eyes. His lips part, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“Just…” he rasps out, frowning at you. “Why’d you push me away? Wasn’t I good enough? We’re supposed to be partners. You promised me–you remember?”

“I remember,” you say gloomily.

“Then why?” he demands. “You said it was you and me and then all of a sudden you’re closing yourself off. I wouldn’t have cared, y’know, if you were writing your own shit without me. Even if you didn’t wanna tell me. But you pushed me out.” He stresses the last three words, and you can only stare back wretchedly.

“Why?” he whispers.

Your mouth opens and falls, searching for the words and the courage to say them.

“I was jealous.”

The silence in the car is deafening, Jason staring back at you, shell-shocked. Whatever answer he was expecting, this clearly was not it.

“What?” he murmurs.

“I was jealous,” you admit woefully, picking at your nails. You tell him then, about the review, about the words and the sense of failure. “I mean, that’s what it was, at first. Jealousy. That at the same time they had all these things to say about me, they were loving you. It felt unfair. And then–and then I realised I was being selfish, ‘cause of course they were going to love you. Everything they said about you was true, it’s what I’ve been saying for years and you deserved that.”

His brows are furrowed still, as he listens to you, eyes growing stormier with every word. Your hands tremble as you continue carefully.

“And then, after that…” you trail off, staring at the console between you both. Shame colours your words, voice dropping steadily as you speak. “I thought, if I could just improve, I’d be doing something right. If I could just catch up to you guys, instead of dragging you down. I’d be someone worth doing it with.”

Jason’s eyes are tearful once more, winter fires raging on in teal seas. He shoots you a frown so fierce as he speaks, voice cracking.

“That’s bullshit.”

“What?–”

He leans back in his seat, hands coming up to his face, scrubbing at the skin. He groans and the sound is muffled by his palms. You watch him, humiliation burning your skin from the inside.

“You are so fucking stupid, do you know that?” he tells you, sounding anguished, and you break, tears crowding your lashline slipping forth and down your face.

“You’ve never, not for one moment, been not good enough,” he tells you angrily. “The fact that you thought you had to earn–to catch up. ‘Be someone worth doing it with’ what the fuck does that even mean? You’ve always been the one we all look to.”

You bring your hands up to cover your face, now openly weeping silently but he catches your wrists in his, the movement drawing you closer to him. You gaze at him through your tears, waterlogged and beautiful. His eyes search yours and he shakes his head, exasperated.

“The fuck ‘m I supposed to do with you, huh?” he asks, tilting forward to press his forehead to yours. “What’ve I gotta do to get it into your head that you don’t have to go it alone?”

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, eyes slipping closed and his breath skitters across your cheek, nose pressing into the skin. You can smell the beer on him, and the cologne you’d gotten him last holidays, so close you can feel the heat radiating off him.

“It’s not enough, for me to tell you, is it?” he says, and then he’s tugging at your arms. “Get over here.”

Your eyes fly open to stare at him, startled, confused, but there’s no softness in his gaze. He looks at you, eyes steely and firm, head tilting as if to say, well? What are you waiting for?

“What?” you garble, confused.

“Get over here,” he repeats, and only then do you notice the dangerously low tone his voice has taken on, the darkness of his pupils as they swallow his irises. “Gonna teach you somehow.”

A shiver skates down your spine, and your hands tremble with anticipation as you reach for the console to balance yourself, rising onto your knees shakily and clumsily climbing across the space until you’re in his lap. He nods, leaning below him to move his seat backwards, and you clutch onto his shoulders as the both of you move.

“Someone might see,” you whisper, and he stares up at you, faintly amused.

“Baby,” he says, laughter in his voice, and you soften at the sound, fingers scratching at the nape of his neck. His fingers rub at your hip where your top has lifted. “Take a look around. ‘S the middle of the night, nobody’s awake to see us.”

True enough, the complex Jason lives in is canopied in thick onyx, the quiet street so still you’d be hard pressed to believe anyone lived there at all. You look back to him, shadows turning him sharper, tear tracks smudged below his eyes and marble cut features.

“You gonna listen to me?” he rumbles, chin tilted to look at you.

You wait, heart beating in your chest, and then you nod. You see a flash of his grin, and then he’s surging upwards to capture your mouth in his, all teeth and tongue as he devours.

Your blood turns molten at the first touch, his thick hands tugging your hips down into his and pressing you closer as he licks into your mouth. The heating has turned off but you’re far from cold, the air thickening as you whimper into his mouth.

“Fuckin…” he groans, and you cry out when his mouth slides across to latch onto your neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin. “Missed this s’much.”

“Jason,” you sob out, and he rasps out a laugh, rolling his hips upwards. “Jason, I–”

“What, baby?” he hums, lips detaching from your neck with a wet pop. You’re delirious, drunk on the touch you hadn’t felt in months, spending lonely nights reaching out for only to be met with the crushing emptiness of unoccupied space. “Y’miss me? Huh? ‘S that it?”

You whine in response, nodding. He laughs, but it’s a mean sound and it shoots straight to your core, muscles tightening at the sound.

“No going back after this, hope you know that,” he tells you lowly, tugging at the waistband of your pants. “Off. Need to be inside you.”

You scramble for your button, rising again to tug them off in awkward jerky movements that lack any sort of grace. But Jason doesn’t seem to care, more concerned with the zip of his own jeans, shoving his jeans down roughly and stroking his already hard cock.

He sinks into you in one fluid movement, a groan filling the car as he fills you, stretching you out deliciously. You choke on a gasp, and he stills for a moment, before he’s setting his feet flat on the floor of your car and using that to fuck up into you, rapid, sloppy movements that are desperate and rough. Each thrust has you seeing stars, and you’re scrabbling for his shoulders for some sort of balance, but your arms weaken as he drags along every sensitive part of you.

“Never…fuck…never letting y’go again,” he grits through his teeth, “Had me losing my damn mind. You’re always gonna be mine, you know that. Always. Been. Mine.”

Your breath stutters in your chest when his hands come to your hips, gripping your flesh as he bounces you over his cock, a slew of curses spilling from his lips. “Who do you belong to?”

“You–you! I’m yours,” you cry out.

“You need me to fuck some sense into you, hm?” he snarls. “Is that what I’ve gotta do? To get it through your fuckin’ head? Tell me.”

“Yes, yes!” you sob out, his name leaving your mouth in a broken cry.

“Yeah?” his voice drops, condescending and utterly mean. “You’re gonna let me take care of you now? Not gonna argue w’me?”

“Jason I–I’m close,” you squeal, fingers biting into his shoulders and he huffs.

“Not until you answer me,” he says, slapping your ass. “You’re not gonna fucking cum until I tell you.”

He doesn’t slow down, despite this, thrusts growing deeper. The car windows have fogged up, and you’ve not taken any care to quiet down–although nobody is around to see you, they most certainly are around to hear you. But it’s difficult to focus when Jason reaches down between your bodies to rub your clit. You keen, a high pitched sound expelling from your throat and when he sinks his teeth into the skin of your shoulder, your eyes roll back, overwhelmed by the sensations all around and within you.

“What did I say?”

“Please! Oh fuck, Jason, yes right there,” you mewl, tears burning your eyes once more. Your hips roll downwards, meeting his thrusts.

A large hand comes to grab your chin, firm as the other settles on your hip. You look at him through bleary eyes, sweat matting his hair to his forehead and a flush painting him red that even in the pale moonlight you can make sense of, eyes blazing as he stares at you.

“Say it,” he commands, and you pant into his mouth. “Tell me you’re gonna let me take care of you. ‘s all you gotta say, baby, be good for me, I know you can.”

“‘M gonna let you–” you cry. “Gonna let you take care of me! I’m sorry, please.”

“Yeah?” he grunts, and you nod your head rapidly, feeling your stomach beginning to tighten up. “Y’gonna stop doubting yourself so fucking much? Gonna stop pushing me away?”

“Y-yes!”

“Swear,” he says, and you sob, feeling the tears beginning to stream down your face. It’s stifling in the car, and you’re desperate, but Jason has you ensnared–you won’t come before he lets you. “Swear it t’me.”

“I swear. I swear, Jason,” you gasp. Sweat rolls down your back, your top clinging to you. Jason’s shirt is soaked through, and when you tip your head down, you grow lightheaded at the sight of the mess you’ve both made, white smeared across the inside of your thighs and his stomach. Lewd sounds echo in the small space of your car as you bounce on his cock, and Jason–

“Come for me,” he breathes out harshly, hand slipping from your chin once more to swipe at your clit in broad, firm strokes. In a matter of seconds, you fall apart on him, and he follows soon after, hips stuttering as he empties himself inside you with a loud moan.

You fall forward limply and he catches you easily in his arms, the both of you breathing heavily. You’re boneless against him, sticky and covered in sweat, and when you go to move off him, his arms around you tighten.

“I meant what I said,” you whisper into the silence of the car, cheek pressed against his shoulder. “About you deserving that recognition. ‘M sorry I was such a dick.”

“I wish you’d just talked to me,” he tells you softly, and now you’re the one clutching him a little tighter, fingers twisting into the fabric of his shirt like he’ll disappear from under you if you look away. “‘S you and me, remember?”

“I forgot for a moment there,” you admit and he breathes out through his nose, a sardonic laugh as if to say yeah, I know, “but I remember.”

“I’m still mad at you,” he says, quietly and you twist your lips in an effort not to cry. “I love you, baby, but that was the worst few months of my life.”

“I’m sorry,” you can only say again. He kisses your temple, and it feels like a step towards forgiveness. “I’m gonna make it up to you.”

“Good,” he says firmly. “I’m never letting you go, you hear me?”

When you look up, there’s a grin on his face and you lean up to press your mouth to his. It’s chaste, and sweet, softer than your reunion and holding every promise you intend to keep to him, old and new.

“It’s you and me.”

this took me 2 weeks to write and i didn't think it would be this long. like i thought maybe it might reach 4K? but somehow this managed to become my longest fic!! crazy. i do currently have a longer wip in my drafts that i'm working on but this is one of the longest oneshot fics i've ever written which is mad and i'm kind of thrilled about.

i hope you enjoyed this fic and guitarist!jason and reader's breakup -> reunion. i tweaked the reunion a bit from the initial post i made about it, because i think it just fit better in the moment, but i hope you enjoyed that too! and i hope you don't hate the reader too much for the whole breakup because they genuinely have my entire heart. i think sometimes you get caught up in wanting to be the best that you don't realise you already are good enough to the people that matter – to jason, reader is everything and it's baffling that they don't see that. but i hope i did their reunion justice.

#jason todd x reader #jay my heart #jasonsmirrorball #jason todd smut #jason todd imagine #jason todd fanfiction #x reader #guitarist!jason

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pink-sparkly-witch · 5 months

Text

Girls Night

Summary: Jensen’s girlfriend comes home a bit drunk after a girls night and tries to seduce him.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Female Reader

Warnings: Fluff, implied sexy times to come.

Words: 0.7k

A/N: I’m so proud that I set out to drabble and succeeded! 🥳 I’m a wordy bitch, so usually, when I set out to drabble, I fail epically 😅 All mistakes are my own.

Consider reblogging to spread this far and wide around this Hellsite or leaving a comment. It really does fuel a creative’s muse. If you’re too shy or too cool for people to know you read fanfic and don’t want it showing on your blog, you can submit an anonymous ask or drop me a DM. 💖

My Masterlist AO3 Ko-Fi

“It’s been far too long since we last did this!” you declare, slamming another empty shot glass onto the wooden table.

“I know! And we say this every time, but we shouldn’t leave it so long next time,” Fiona shivers violently at the aftertaste of the tequila.

“Well,” Robin smirks, “if y’all put hoes before bros every now and then, we’d see each other a lot more often!”

“Excuse you,” you feign outrage. “If I remember right, you,” you point your finger for good measure, “are the one who didn’t come last time so you could ‘Netflix and Chill’ with Scott. I hadn’t seen Jensen in six weeks, and I came!”

“Oh, I came, alright!” Robin grins when you and your closest friends descend into laughter.

The familiar intro of Lionel Richie’s “Dancing on the Ceiling” begins, and you and the girls quickly make your way onto the dance floor.

You spend the rest of the night cutting your best moves, singing at the top of your lungs and drinking tequila.

Walking into the hallway with your heels in your hand, you try to be as quiet as possible. Jensen has been working hard at the brewery and had been learning a script for a movie that starts shooting next week, so you knew he was likely sleeping at this late hour.

You carefully hold onto the handrail and climb the stairs, shushing your shoes every time the heel hits the wooden rail.

Once at the top of the stairs, you frown when you see the bedroom light still on. You walk with heavy feet towards the door, peeking your head through the gap.

“Hey, baby,” Jensen smiles as he looks up at you. “Did you have a good time?”

“It was the best! We drank and talked and danced and drank. Did I already say that part? I think I already said that part. Anyway, we danced and sang. My throat will hurt tomorrow,” you stumble over to the bathroom and drop your shoes haphazardly on the floor. “But it was worth it,” you giggle.

“I’m glad,” Jensen grins. He always says you’re adorable when you’re drunk. Always so happy and carefree.

“What are you doing still up?” you ask.

“Gotta learn this script, baby. I’ve put it off too long,” he rubs at his tired eyes and smiles wide as you leave the bathroom in your underwear. “What are you doing, sweetheart?”

You climb on the bed—surprisingly gracefully, given your drunken state—and crawl up Jensen’s body. Straddling his waist, you run your hands under his shirt and up his stomach and grin as you feel his muscles twitch under your touch.

“Been thinking about you all night, Jensen. How much I wanted to be here with you, how you make me feel. I want you so bad, baby.”

“As much as I wanna say yes, baby girl, you’re too drunk,” Jensen says as his hands slide up your thighs.

“I’m not that drunk,” you pout more than complain.

“Even so, I think it’s best we just cuddle,” Jensen soothes.

“Ugh, fine!” you huff, throwing yourself off his lap and onto the bed. “But I want your A-game tomorrow!”

“When have I ever not brought my A-game?” Jensen laughs as you pull at the bed covers and ungracefully try to get into bed.

“Uhm, when I wore that dress to the 300th episode party? You barely lasted ten seconds!” you laugh.

“Excuse me! You looked really fucking hot that night! You knew I’d been ready for you since you’d stepped out of the hotel bathroom wearing that thing! And I made it up to you!”

“Yeah, you did!” you giggle. “Alright,” you say as you finally tuck yourself under the duvet. “What about the thirty second fumble on Jared’s boat?”

“Really? You really want me to explain to you how incredibly sexy it was rubbing sun tan lotion all over you and the idea that anyone could have seen me fucking you that day?”

“Okay, I’ll give you that one too,” you yawn and lie down, shuffling into his side and twisting your legs around his. “Just promise me you’ll bring you’re A-game in the morning.”

Snuggling further into him, you lay your head on his chest and your hand on his collarbone. Jensen wraps an arm around your shoulders and pushes the script he was reading to the floor.

“I promise. Good night, baby, I love you,” he chuckles softly as the heavy breathing tells him you’ve fallen asleep.

“Not that drunk, my ass!” he whispers as he kisses your head and turns out the bedside lamp.

Tags: @akshi8278 @ashbatz @candy-coated-misery0731 @chriszgirl92 @deans-baby-momma @deans-spinster-witch @deansbbyx @deanwanddamons @duncanhillscoffeecups @foxyjwls007 @giggles1026 @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @hoboal87 @impala67rollingthroughtown @iprobablyshipit91 @jackles010378 @jamerlynn @jc-winchester @k-slla @kazsrm67 @kmc1989 @lacilou @ladysparkles78 @leigh70 @lyarr24 @michecolegate @mrsjenniferwinchester @nancymcl @negans-lucille-tblr @perpetualabsurdity @roseblue373 @sandlee44 @sexyvixen7 @snackles87 @spnwoman @stixnstripesworld @stoneyggirl2 @suckitands33 @synmorite @tristanrosspada-ackles @twinkleinadiamondsky @waters-2567 @winchestergirl1720

#girls night #december drabbles #jensen ackles x female!reader #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x y/n #jensen ackles fanfic #jensen ackles rpf #jensen ackles

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xhoneygirlxx · 7 months

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Still Adore You (With Your Hand Around My Neck)

Epilogue: Destroy Myself

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

summary: this is the beginning of the end. the start of a chaotic relationship you just can't seem to leave.

warnings: Eddie and Reader are in their 20s. Modern Au! kind of mean Eddie. rated R for smut, 18+ only Minors DNI!! unprotected p in v. cream pie. swearing. shitty writing and grammar errors.

*if i miss anything let me know*

a/n: hello my loves! this is part one to my still adore you series! i hope you guys like it as much as i do. thank you all for the love and support you've given me, i love you all so much <3

Also if you are an ageless/faceless blog you will be blocked. please have something on your profile so I know you are not a minor and are not a bot.

series masterlist

I pray my salvation makes it to the pearly gates,

Bring the suffering that I face,

All the things that I face,

Destroy myself just to wait for you.

When God created the Earth, he picked two of his children to live amongst the paradise he built to be our parents - Adam and Eve. The Garden of Eden was beautiful, a place like no other. The only rule that God gave was for them to not eat from the one tree, the tree of knowledge of right and wrong, good and evil.

They had plenty of other trees to eat from, other fruits to feast on, but when the serpent came speaking words of temptation, Eve gave into him and took a bite from the forbidden fruit, Adam would soon follow after her.

Because of the rule was broken and they went against God, they were banished forever and were cursed with the pain of mortality. Their children and their children's children would face pain and sorrow, hurt and sickness, and ultimately death.

Like Eve, you gave into temptation as well, the warnings you received and how you ignored them all for the name of love. From the very first time you met Eddie Munson warning signs flashed, blinding you with the bright lights. Caution tape blocked you from crossing that line but you inevitably ignored it, ducting under it and continuing on your way.

You walked straight into the line of fire for the promise of nirvana, for just a taste of the sweetness of his love. For the longest time you thought Eve was stupid for falling for the devil's tricks but when he came to you with the prettiest brown eyes and lips that you wanted to kiss for hours, you finally understood.

Dying by the hands of the man that you love is probably the worst death. His strong grip squeezing the air out of you so slowly, smiling at you as he did it felt like torture, but what a way to go. You'd still adore Eddie with his hand wrapped around your neck, with his heavy palm crushing your windpipe, and you'd die so full of love.

The night breeze cools the heat of your skin, hitting your sweat soaked hairline and creating chills that ran up the skin of your arm. The night was still young as they say, the party inside still going in full force. Sweat bodies and clouds of smoke filled every room, creating a sort of heat that quickly became too unbearable.

Quickly finding refuge in crackling embers of the firepit. Unknown people and nameless faces fill the chairs around you, mingling with one another. Despite the happy nature and good vibe of the atmosphere around you, you sit with a permanent frown. Pissed isn't even the word you'd want to use for how you feel at the moment.

Furious, enrage, even spitting angry would be a better description for how you felt towards your friends right now. A random house party in a random place was not how you wanted to spend your Friday night, but then Annika and Nikki looked at you with their big pleading eyes and the end was history.

"We'll stick next to you the whole time," they said, "We promise we won't leave."

Only an hour in and their promise was nothing but a lie, leaving you the minute you stepped through the threshold shouting that they'd return shortly. You didn't expect any less honestly, Annika only wanted to come here for the possibility of hooking up and Nikki was more interested in the arrival of her possible new girlfriend Val.

You always found something to do whether it was people watching or drinking until your vision began to blur. Tonight was different however, being the designated driver you were banned from drinking any alcohol and people watching was only fun for the first forty five hours.

Now you sit playing on your phone, scrolling through every app on your phone until your friends finally arrived. You continue to look at the bright screen in your hands reading through old notes that you had yet to delete, too engrossed by the amount of grocery lists to realize that half of the group left the circle.

"You know this is a party, right?" A gruff voice asks.

Lifting your head slightly, you look up from under your eyelashes to the man across from you, scowl written on your lips. The orange glow highlights him in the best of ways, making him even more alluring.

Brown curls fall from the the bun that sits on top of his head, framing his face so beautifully. His lips pull into a smirk, making the deep crevice of his dimples pop out. Big doe eyes sparkle at you, glimmering in the heat of the flames.

His outfit is basic, a band tee with a faded logo, showing off how well loved it was. The holes in his black skinny jeans show off the tiniest hint of black ink that hides beneath the fabric. The fire and moon fight over the rings that sit on his hands, both going back and forth on which one glints in the silver. A loose cigarette sits tucked behind his ear and a sweating bottle of beer rests in his strong hands.

He's captivating, alluring you like the serpent did Eve. You don't engage, promptly scoffing and then rolling your eyes back down to your phone.

"You know my uncle always said if you roll them hard enough, they'll get stuck."

You hear it before you see it, the grin that sits on his face. It adds gasoline to the already burning inferno that rests inside of you adding turbulence, causing roaring flames.

"Good, hope they do." It's bitchy, ice cold like a winter's breeze. Instead of hurling an insult that you, he laughs. A true genuine laugh that you'd compliment if it weren't for the anger pumping through you.

Shutting your phone off, you drop it into your lap and cross your arms over your chest. Sighing loudly, you look at the curly haired man across from you unimpressed, eyebrow arching sharply.

He takes your challenge of a stare down, watching you over the glass of his beer bottle as he puts it to his lips taking a swig. His gaze in unfaltering but yours isn't. It's not your fault though, not when his neck looks so delicious as he swallows every last drop.

Removing the bottle from his mouth, he catches you eyeing the plump of his lips. Even though you've been caught, your stare doesn't waver, only moving the line of your sight back up to his eyes.

"Ya know, it's not really nice to be mean to your friend." His statement causes another eye roll from you, another loud scoff pulling from your throat.

"You're not my friend," Your words swim with annoyance and it only fuels the man in front of you even more.

Gasping loudly, a ringed hand clutches his chest as if he'd been insulted to the fullest. "I'm not you're friend? I thought the warmth of the fire cemented our relationship."

He curls his lips inwards, biting back a laugh that threatens to sneak it's way out. You're not any better, your bottom lip stinging with the pressure of your teeth that sink into it.

Silences covers the two of you, begging for one of you to break first. Although you put up the toughest of fights, you're the first to lose, a small giggle escaping the lock on your lips. The man isn't far behind you, snorting loudly into the quiet night air.

"First of all, I don't even know your name." You counter, mentally berating yourself for letting a laugh squeak out.

"Oh, you need my name?" He asks, eyebrows raising curiously.

Your eyes squint at the absurdness of his question, "Yeah, that's how making friends works, genius."

Batting his eyelashes, he waves a hand at you in flattery. "I love it when you call me sweet names."

His voice is flirty teasing you to the fullest and if you don't do something fast you're going to melt, and not because the heat of the flames.

"That's my cue to leave." Pushing yourself halfway up from the chair, you're immediately stopped by his arm waving you to stop.

"No, no I quit, I promise." It's said between breathless laughs, his eyes crinkling at the sides when he does.

Smirking ever so slightly, you bask in the sound of his voice. Sitting down slowly, you sigh as if you'd rather not be here regardless of the growing smile tugging at your lips.

Once sat back in your seat, you wait with a tapping foot and crossed arms, trying your hardest to look annoyed. He looks at you smugly, like he's enjoying the little performance you put on.

"If I tell you my name, you gotta tell me yours." He demands, you don't respond just pulling your hand out to inspect the acrylics that rest on your hand.

"I'm Eddie." He beams at you, rolling his tongue over his bottom lip.

You purse your lips, looking him up and down as if you're bored. When you give him your name, he nods slowly and repeats it like it's the prettiest thing he's heard.

"Well there you go, now we're friends." The depth of his voice makes the beat of your heart skip, cheeks burning the more you get flustered.

Shaking it off, you give him a look that the kind that reads "really?", and he only answers by returning a look that says "of course". Sucking your teeth, you look down at the blue fabric of your jeans.

"We can't be friends if we don't even hang out." It's shy, your confidence subsiding harshly under the heat of his eyes.

Now he scoffs, shaking his head back and forth causing the loose curls to move with him. "Don't do me like that, Pookie. Just gimme your number and I'll hang out any time your little heart desires."

"You did not just call me fucking Pookie." You laugh, throwing your head back and clutching your stomach.

You don't see him but Eddie just looks at you like you're the prettiest thing he's ever seen, adoration swimming in the dark color of his eyes.

When your laughter ceases and you fall back into your normal position, you open your eyes to see him looking at you. For the first time in your life you finally see what it's like to be looked at as if you hung the stars in their place. It feels good, heart racing and air catching in the back of your throat.

Blinking out of your trance, you nod shakily. "Umm, you said something about my ugh number?"

Eddie reaches into the pocket of his jeans, pulling out his phone and tapping in the code to unlock it. Handing it over to you wordlessly, it's already open to the new contact screen where you punch in the ten digit number. You ponder for a moment before typing in a name, flicking back and forth between the options you have, until you ultimately adding it under your given nickname with a black heart.

Handing it back to him, he looks at it smirking and then puts it back into its rightful home of his pocket. Opening his mouth to say something Eddie is interrupted with the sound of the backdoor opening and the rush of the music inside pouring from the doorway.

"Hey, we've been looking for you!" Annika shouts, stumbling towards you on unsteady feet.

Looking at the clearly tipsy girl, you turn back around to see give a sympathetic look to Eddie, quietly apologizing for your drunken friend.

"I guess that's my que to go." You shrug, moving from your spot on the chair.

Eddie only looks at you tenderly, dimples on full display for you. "Go ahead, Pookie. I'll see you later."

Sending you off with a wink, you walk away from the sanctuary you found. Walking over to your friend, you can't help but look back at the pretty boy you met finding him already smiling back at you.

Threading your arm in your friend's, you allow her to put her weight onto you so she doesn't fall. Unfocused eyes scan to where you keep looking, squinting to find the person.

"Who's that?" She keeps squinting, trying hard to see the man's features.

When her eyes seem to make out what she looks like, she perks up with a dopey smile. "Oh my fucking gawd, he's hot."

Saying it a little too loudly, you instantly clap your hand over her mouth and look back to make sure Eddie hasn't heard. You find him shaking his head, shoulders shaking with a clear laugh as he lights the cigarette that hangs between his teeth.

"Hope you got his number, would be a shot missed if you didn't." She chastises once you remove your palm from her lips. You sigh loudly and pull her along and make your way into the house.

Eddie kept his promise, using all his free time over the summer to see you. It started off innocently enough, late night drives down to the lake, midafternoon hangouts in the Dairy Queen parking lot where you’d sit in the bed of his beat up truck, and hanging out in his apartment watching him play video games.

Friends, that’s all it was in the beginning. Two people opening up to one another, bonding over their shitty childhoods and laughing at jokes that no one else ever understood.

As the heat of the roaring sun became more intense, so did the relationship between the two of you. Touches became lingering like the tickle of the tall overgrown grass by the lake. Kisses were light and airy, reminiscent of the lightning bugs that flew around in the dark summer sky. Eddie’s scent lingered with you even after you’d gone home, similar to sunscreen.

Tangled sheets and messy hair, flustered cheeks and dopey smiles. The two of you shined so bright even the stars that hung from the dark blue night were jealous.

But when the sunsets came sooner and sooner, so did the end of your fairytale. Calls became unanswered, hangouts were no more, and hand holding became totally off limits. What was once warm and sickly sweet smiles, was now cold shoulders and icy attitudes.

You felt stupid, falling for someone that wasn’t even yours. Giving Eddie your heart on a platter when he never even asked. When this all started you knew what it was, signing your soul over to the devil using your blood as ink.

The risks were in plain sight, the rules agreed on with the locking of pinkies, and yet you still broke them. Eddie told you over and over again this wasn’t anything other than some fun, a way to pass the boring summer days faster.

And although it hurt, you still plunged the sword deeper and deeper. What is love without some loss?

The mahogany teakwood candles that burns on the top of your dresser does nothing to get rid of the smell that you and Eddie have created. Notes of dark oat and frosted lavender are being drowned out by sweat and sex.

Cotton sheets soak up the perpetration, the outline of his body imprinted to remind you that he was once there, the only lingering memory of him when he inevitably leaves. Cheeks flushed with red, screaming claw marks on alabaster skin, and bruises in the shape of teeth.

"Fuck, squeezin' me s'good, baby." Eddie's all gritted teeth and panting breath as he wiggles around underneath you.

The ache in your knees is no match for the burn you feel in the pit of your stomach, your hole clenching around the thickness of his cock. Switching between bouncing and rocking your hips, you're hurdling closer and closer to the edge.

Sentences aren't even forming in your brain, only random blabbering falls from your lips in loud whines with the way he punches into your cervix.

"S'good, shit you feel so good." It comes out like a sob, ripped right out from the depths of your soul.

Big strong hands grip at the plush of your hips, finger prints threatening to leave a mark for the next day. A wicked grin forms on red kiss bitten lips, basking in the glory of you crumbling on top of him.

"Yeah? Is it good, princess?" Arrogant and cocky, two traits that only he can pull off without it being a turn off.

Your head wildly bobs, drool escaping from your parted lips. "Uh huh," the only real response you can give him in this very moment and it's all he needs to know he's fucked you dumb beyond repair.

Bending his knees, Eddie starts to fuck up into you with unwavering force. The thatch of course hair that sits at the base of his cock catches deliciously on your swollen and neglected clit, resulting in harsh mewl.

With your own eyes screwed shut you don't see that his have rolled into the back of his head, jaw unhinged with the pleasure of you clasping around him tightly. Regardless of his own peak nearing, Eddie continues to keep up with his facade, making sure you finish way before he does.

"I'm so deep huh? S'deep, shit- so deep in this tight f-uhh, fucking cunt." Teeth bite down on the fat of his bottom lip, holding the whimpers from escaping from his mouth.

The speed of his movements, the loud squelch of your juices, and the intensity of him hitting into your g-spot is enough to make your head dizzy. He's everywhere, his touch, his scent, his voice. He's everywhere, all around you and you don't think that anything else in the world could create the same euphoric feeling he does.

"M'gonna-, ah I'm gonna cum." The end is closing in on you, the wave of ecstasy crashing into the shore. Although it feels so good crossing the finish line, you know when it's over he'll be gone all too soon.

"Me too, sweetheart. Motherfuck-, cum for me." The act that he had put on has finally faltered, cracking right at the seams.

That does it, pushes you right off the edge into the blissful waters of your high. Your already weakening knees have now failed you, letting you drop onto the slick soaked skin of Eddie's tattooed chest.

The two of you continue to whimper and moan as your highs ripple through you. Both of you create lightning, a pair of super bolts roar in the middle of your quiet bedroom. In the heat of your bliss, you're completely ignorant to the consequences of such strong power being created. No matter what the outcome is, at least it was beautiful and for the smallest of moments, it was real.

After the glory has finally wore off you remove yourself from him, letting out a strong hiss when the feeling of him is completely out of you. Letting your body fall to the plushness of your mattress, you allow yourself to cycle through the memory of it all.

Naked chests heave, a silence pulling over both of you like a heavy quilt in the winter. It's comfortable like this, the heat radiating off of your skin mixes with Eddie's, the pumping of hearts syncing into the same rhythm pattern.

While your body settles into the softness of your bed, Eddie's is quick to jump up from his spot with a loud grunt. Fresh red marks flash at you, decorating the smooth skin of his back along with the pretty freckles you used to trace with the soft flesh of your finger tips.

As he sits on the side of your bed catching his breath, you wonder if he misses the feeling of your touch the way you miss his skin. You wonder if he misses the intensity of your body next to his, arms and legs tangled together buried underneath the shelter of his comforter. You wonder if his bed misses the shape of your body the way yours misses his.

The springs of your mattress groan when the weight of his body leaves and for a moment you feel the same way. Footsteps are muted by the fibers of your carpeting. You watch from your spot as Eddie grabs a tissue from your vanity, wiping himself free of any evidence of you and then disposing it into the garbage can with a careless toss.

Muscles flex as he begins to redress himself, hiding the masterpiece that you left on his skin. You hope that they sting when he's under the heated water of his shower, a pang that will go away within a few days while the pang of your hurt will last a lifetime.

His messy curls pull from the neck of his shirt, shaking with the motions of his head trying to get rid of the unruly hair that masks his vision. From the singular foot away that the two of you stand, you pray that he won't leave, that this isn't the end.

"Do you wanna stay? W-we could watch a movie or something." Behind the sincerity of your voice is a girl that mourns the loss of her once best friend, begging him to remember what the two of you had in the beginning.

The clang of his belt ricochets through the room, an uncomfortable hallow sound that you wish to forget. Spinning on the socked heel of his foot, he gives you a blank face. One so devoid of emotion, cold and vacant.

"Don't start doin' this, Pookie. You already know what this is." A clear warning given with a strict tone.

The nickname that used to cause butterflies only brings mountains of sadness. It used to have meaning, a funny inside joke between the two of you now dwindled down to the name of a place holder.

"I just thought-" Going unfinished by the sound of Eddie's deep sigh.

"Not tonight, kay?" He says as nicely enough to placate you and even though you know nothing will come from it, you're still full of hope.

Bending down, he begins to slide his feet into his shoes, the same one's you gifted to him only so many months ago. Watching him tie the browning shoelaces of his vans, you wonder if he remembers the way you smiled while handing him the box, or how he felt when you said you got them just because.

It tugs at your already bandaged heart, the sticky adhesive of band aids doing their absolute best to keep the muscle intact. The rattle of the remaining broken pieces rattle in your ears, muffling everything else around you.

The lanky man stands to full height, grabbing his beloved leather jacket from your floor where it was left in the tornado of excitement. Rounding the end of your bed he makes his way to you, standing over your still naked body.

Bending at the waist, Eddie places a wet kiss on your forehead and pulls away with charming smile.

"I'll text you, pook."

You nod at his words, gripping on tightly to the faith that this whole thing will work out the way you hope. Giving you a wink, Eddie quickly exists your room and just like that you crumble.

On the wet sheets of your bed you curl into yourself, naked and vulnerable in more ways than one. Tears leak from your eyes and sobs rip from the depths of your stomach. It hurts watching him walk out because you never know when it'll be the last time.

You try to think back to when everything changed, where it all went wrong. All of the flashbacks and memories flood your brain, a film wheel of all the happy moments. More tears flow, a nonstop river of all the heartache.

You miss him, what your friendship used to be. At this point you don't even care if he loves you the way you love him, you just want him to care for you like he did all those months ago.

You wish you could go back to that warm summer day where you handed over your heart and let him carve his name in it, so that no matter what you did you'd belong to him for the rest of your days.

thank you all for reading!! i hope you guys like part one :)

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #still adore you

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saintblk · 7 months

Text

*ೃ— INDULGENCE | ROY HARPER + KALDUR’AHM

warnings: foul language, drug and alcohol use, mfm intercourse, dubcon (reader is drunk + nonconsensual creampie), threesome, p in v, double penetration, manipulation of you squint, unprotected sex (use protection pls!), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, use of pet names (all gender neutral), roy x kaldur (established relationship), college au — gender neutral afab reader, considered to be black + thick

word count: 3.9k

note: RAH ITS FINALLY OUT. i been wanting to finish this for sooooo long:0 if there are any pronouns please don’t hesitate to let me know ! i proofread like three times but there is a chance that i may have missed something. lmk what you think! i might do a poly drabble/series if ppl really like it🙈i think this was more for me than anyone else but enjoy;3

had to repost cause it wouldn't show up in tags the first time:(

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT

YOU WERE OUT of your element — that much you knew. in your three and a half years of college, never had you been invited to a frat party and it seemed convincing yourself you weren’t missing out on much finally paid off. because you truly could not see the appeal of the environment before you. it was hot–no, humid. the entire house stunk of sweat, alcohol, weed, and something else you couldn’t quite put your finger on. the air was charged with hormones and filled with so much smoke you weren’t sure how there was enough oxygen. not to mention, the amount of times you nearly threw caution to the wind to fight the third guy who used the tight space as a reason to grope you.

it had to be a lie when people talked about how fun and crazy a party was. a ruse to rope other people in to make a big house feel like a small, stuffy room. the reason for your attendance that night and your very best friend was donning a screwface that went quite well with her dark red dress as her gaze stayed attached to the man who’d invited her. he had one hand wrapped around a bottle of beer, and the other around the neck of the girl he was sucking face with.

“i told you, he’s not serious about you.” you tried to reason with her over the loud music. “let’s just split and you can forget about him-”

“fuck that. i’m gonna stay and show him exactly what he’s missing out on,” she decided before eyeing the crowd of people. “you can chill, grab a drink or something.”

rolling your eyes, you make your way to the drink table and find mini bottles of tequila. packing several of the untouched bottles into your shoulder bag, you make your way to the more quiet, mellow staircase. finals had just ended; a reason for this raucous soiree, though you much rather spend the night and every night over the summer break locked up in your room, binging trash reality tv shows. you supposed you couldn’t expect everyone to be like you, to not want to spend their night trying to get around multiple people all standing in the same hot room, acting on impulsive desires and liquid courage.

you blew a raspberry and scanned the room once again, catching sight of your friend grinding on a man you hadn’t seen before, and you were sure she hadn’t either. certain you were going to have to keep an eye on her so she didn’t get into anything potentially dangerous, you leaned your head against the nearest wall and got comfortable. eventually, you’re joined by a couple who decided the steps behind you were as good as the privacy of a bedroom. you could hear the man whispering empty promises to his female companion. how he was serious about her and only her, with each one of her complaints shushed so he could continue his inebriated ramblings. after downing three shots and placing the empty bottles on the floor beside you, escape came in the form of the 6’3 hunk who happened to be in your poli-sci class. kaldur’ahm smiled warmly at you, taking note of the exhausted look on your face.

“are you enjoying yourself?” he asks anyway, standing in front of you so as to not block the staircase.

with a scoff, you look down at your perfectly manicured toes in a pair of heels you couldn’t help but think were being wasted on this event. it wasn’t as though you could ever look kaldur in the eyes anyway. kind soul that he was, he still managed to intimidate you with his build and height, and the only time you could appreciate his god-given looks were from afar when he wasn’t looking at you.

“i’d literally rather be anywhere else…” you drawl while fishing another nip of tequila out of your bag.

though you can’t see it, too busy avoiding his gaze, he feels bad. despite living in the very house, he could never really keep his friends from throwing insanely wild parties that always ran too long.

“would you like to join me upstairs? roy thinks it’s quieter there but i don’t think there’s a difference.”

a smile comes over your face, and without meaning to, you let your eyes flick up towards his. when he offers his hand you don’t see a reason why you shouldn’t take it until you catch sight of your friend, pressed up against the guy she was so ready to swear off not even an hour earlier. you open your mouth to argue that you should keep an eye on her only for her attention to shift for a moment towards you. the thumbs up she gives you is encouragement enough, and you keep yourself from rolling your eyes when you place your hand in kaldur’s.

he guides you through the bodies littered up the staircase and standing around the rooms none of the guests were allowed to go in. his skin is warm and surprisingly soft and you inwardly swoon when he squeezes your hand. you find that the once booming music becomes a low thump on the walls, matching the bass when he leads you into his room. still loud, but not enough to egg on the headache plaguing you. sure enough, roy greets you with one of his lopsided smirks while he busies himself with rolling a fat blunt. the involuntarily bashful smile you respond with reminds him of the reason why you’re really there and why kaldur had gone downstairs in the first place.

“hey pretty,” he greets with a quick once over of your figure. “you look like you been drinkin’.”

you shake your head and fiddle with your fingers, anxious under his gaze while he lights his blunt. “m-mm, i’m fine.”

“do you have to smoke in here?” kaldur griped as he approached the redhead.

“what, you gonna be mean to me in front of company?” roy shot back smoothly. “i’ll even let you take the first hit since you clearly need to relax.”

kaldur waves him off and bats away the hand that reaches towards his waist as he walks towards the couch on the other end of the room. you take the seat beside him and take out your phone to let your friend know where you are and to call when she’s ready to leave.

“be careful,” you hear roy warn. “kal gets pouty when he’s tired.”

“i’m not tired and i don’t get pouty,” he bites out much to your amusement.

“no? you weren’t just being fussy about wanting me to get ready for bed?”

fed up, kaldur simply sinks in his seat and crosses his arms over his chest. while thinking about how adorable their dynamic was, you notice roy’s gaze lingering on you again. it was no secret that he was just as attractive as kaldur and when the fact began dawning on you is when you began reconsidering your presence in their bedroom.

“you don’t look too happy yourself.” he gets up and plops down on the other side of you. “what’s got you down, sugar?”

your lips twist as you recount your night up until then. somehow, you suppose under the influence of alcohol, you don’t seem to notice or care how close the two men have gotten. roy’s arm found its way on the back of the couch and kaldur was sitting close enough for his knees to be knocking against your own. the cannabis from roy and the sweet vanilla just barely filling your nose from kaldur give you a heady feeling, the mixture of their scents nearly as intoxicating as the liquor in your system. somehow it’s just as hot as it was downstairs and your heart is starting to thump erratically in your chest.

“your friend is an asshole-”

“don’t say that.” you chide just before emptying another bottle. “she just really likes this guy.”

“she abandoned you,” kaldur joins.

at the thought, your shoulders slump and your eyes get just a little glazed. with a maudlin mind, you can’t help but consider their words ringing true. did she really care about you? about the fact that you were extremely uncomfortable at parties? social butterfly that she was, couldn’t she have taken one of her other, far outgoing friends? you sniffle a little, overemotional and perhaps a lot more drunk than you thought you were. but they’re both there to place strong hands on your thighs in consolation; squeezing and rubbing maybe a little too close to your hips, you’re too far gone to care. perhaps part of you knew what they were up to, how sleazy they both really were. but to have been wanted by two very hot guys at the same time was a bit uplifting in the moment. you turn to roy first who moves your braids back over your shoulder.

“y’know, we can make you feel better.” he husks and caresses your cheek.

you can feel kaldur’s breath fanning against your ear now as he hums an agreement. it sends goosebumps down your arms and an insatiable fire up your spine. a soft, breathy moan slips past you, encouraging him to press his lips against your throat and draw out more of your saccharine sounds. the upturn of roy’s lips against the corner of your own is what makes you close your eyes in anticipation. your eyebrows are furrowed and your hand is clutching desperately to his shirt, he’s sure there’ll be strains and wrinkles on the fabric. but he thinks it’s all worth it to see you practically on the edge of tears for a single kiss. when he finally does kiss you, it’s a quick, soft peck that forces a whine to erupt from you.

kaldur rolls his eyes at the sight, “stop toying with her. give her what she wants.”

“nuh-uh,” he snickers. “not until she asks for it. tell me what you want, y/n.”

“w-want you to kiss me,” you gasp when he nips at your jawline teasingly. “plea-please, roy.”

“so well-mannered,” he hums sarcastically. “think you should be rewarded for that?”

you nod frantically, just as he wraps a hand around your throat. you watch him wet his lips, following the movement of his tongue before he starts to pull you closer. roy kisses you once, then again, and finally presses the fervent kiss you so richly deserve on your waiting lips. you moan approvingly as you lean into him. all the while, kaldur’s exploring hands dance towards the jewel between your thighs. unconsciously, you spread your legs further and further until he has his hand up your dress, palm pressed up against and cupping your heated center. your moans are muffled through roy’s mouth, as you buck your hips to feel something, anything.

“so needy…i’m willing to bet you haven’t been touched in so long.” kaldur husks, slipping a finger past your damp panties to rub your throbbing clit.

a choked mewl fills the room as delirium begins to seep into your brain. he lets you grind against his fingers, frenzied and fiending for release. roy pulls away from your lips in time for kaldur to slide two fingers into your sopping cunt. the both of them relish in the sounds they’re drawing out from you while they work on marking up your neck. your senses go into overload when another set of fingers begin rubbing on your clit again. between the tongues dancing on the skin of your neck, clashing with one another every so often, and the assault on your lower lips, you’re being driven crazy by the two men.

your climax arrives like a wave crashing against your body, incapacitating you and forcing your every thought to be nothing but fuzz and static. the party has long since flitted from your worries; it’s simply you and two people who want you more than anything in that moment. the garble of nonsense you spew makes roy chuckle as he plants hot kisses up your jaw. kaldur is still going with slower strokes despite the way you burst on his fingers.

“look at the mess you made,” he breaths and pulls his fingers into your view. they’re coated in your essence, though neither of them seem to mind when roy tugs his hand towards his mouth.

you watch with glossed eyes, filled with arousal as he licks kaldur’s fingers clean. the lewd act has you clenching your thighs together to sooth the returning ache between them, only garnering kaldur’s attention once again. with a hum, he cups your chin with the hand covered in a light sheen of saliva and turns you towards him.

“was that not enough?” he inquires, gazing deep into your eyes and you can’t find it in you to look away. “do you want more, angel?”

all you can do is nod before leaning up for a kiss. his lips are soft and sweet and make you feel like you’re floating in the air. while kaldur’s tongue delves into your mouth, roy is helping shift you on the couch. you let them move your body as though you were nothing but their plaything, and soon enough you’re seated in kaldur’s lap with your back pressed against his broad chest and your legs spread. with your head twisted to continue locking lips with him, you don’t notice roy kneel on the floor in front of you until his hands come in contact with your thighs again.

simultaneously, kaldur’s hands flit from your waist up to your chest. tugging the straps of your dress down and allowing it to pool at your waist, he cups both your braless mounds and begins to massage them. your panties are removed next, abandoned somewhere behind roy. both you and kaldur pull away to watch roy press hot, open mouth kisses on his way up to your pearl. his hair tickles the skin near your knee but that’s soon forgotten when his lips come in contact with your labia. your mouth falls open with a sharp gasp, and for a moment roy considers drawing this out. but just the sight of you, in his boyfriend’s arms, pretty, and waiting and so very patient, he doesn’t think he could deny you of what you want any longer.

his tongue laps vigorously at your clit, only moving down to fuck your hole every so often. he groans at the taste of you, determined to make you cum again so he could share the taste with kaldur. your mind struggles to focus between the pair’s actions, only to allow pleasure to take over and blanket your senses. while roy indulges in your soaking cunt, kaldur pulls your head back so take your lips into his own.

you moan into his mouth with each of roy’s actions but kaldur doesn’t mind. he swallows your lewd noises, snaking his tongue past your teeth and seeking out your own pink muscle. calloused fingers tweak and twist your nipples before one hand begins to slide downwards. with your ankles locked behind roy’s head, the ginger struggled to feast the way he intended to. that was the case until kaldur spread your pussy lips for him, giving him full access to every part of you.

when your second climax approached, roy didn’t bother slowing down. he nipped and sucked on your clit relentlessly, watching with gleaming eyes as you were overcome with an earth shattering orgasm. you shook and thrashed in kaldur’s arms, whining as roy continued to abuse your overstimulated parts.

only when he needed to breath did roy come up from between your thighs. reaching up past you, he cupped the back of kaldur’s head and pulled him down. you watched hazily as the two met for a sloppy kiss. the taste of you on roy’s tongue found its way onto kaldur’s taste buds. he groaned, deep and low before delving his tongue into roy’s mouth.

“taste so good,” kaldur mumbled before pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

“think you’re ready for more?” roy inquired as he gets up and rids himself of the white marina he’s wearing. you nod dazedly much to his disappointment. “use your words, pretty.”

“yes, wan’ more.” you blurt, “please gimme more.”

kaldur leans into your ear, lips brushing against the cartilage. “get on your hands and knees, angel.”

you do as he says without hesitation. before long you find yourself looking up at an equally naked kaldur while roy, who also stripped himself of the rest of his clothes, inspected your backside. a wad of spit fell from his mouth onto your swollen sex and his hand followed to spread his saliva. just as a moan fell from your mouth, you felt something prod against your bottom lip. looking up, you noticed kaldur easing his girth into your mouth. quickly, you began to suckle on his tip before he continued pushing into your mouth. he filled every crevice, pushing past your uvula and hitting the back of your throat.

“you can take us both, can’t you?” he asks, so soft you can’t bring yourself to do anything but hum an agreement.

as if on cue, roy’s thick mushroom head eased it’s way into your cunt. he parted your gummy walls, suppressing the noises building up in the back of his throat. your walls were quivering and warm and sucked him in like you wanted him to stay inside you forever.

“fuck…” he grunted, eyes closed and eyebrows furrowed. “f-fuck baby you’re so tigh-tight.”

incapable of replying, all you could do was let your eyes roll back and take both men. ecstasy enveloped all three of you, encouraging you to chase the high you all desperately craved.

so when roy’s hips began to stutter and his movements slowed down, you took it upon yourself to fuck him back. it only proved to help when kaldur found purchase on your braids and began thrusting into your mouth. the recoil from his movements were strong enough to help you send your backside into roy’s hips.

“bein’ so good.” kaldur grunted over you only to pull himself out of your mouth. “but i need you to look at me, angel.”

while he slapped himself against your lips, you managed to drag your eyes back up at him. the pleased hum he let out only sent you further into an oblivion you didn’t want to find your way out of. the simple thought of being able to satisfy both men seemed to take you to rapture and beyond.

with kaldur in your throat, all that told of your orgasm was the garbled noises you made around him and the way you clasped around roy. he groaned as you gushed around him, soaking the both of your thighs and the couch underneath you.

“already?” he snarked, pulling out as kaldur’s movements slowed. “what d’ya think kal — should we give y/n a break?”

“not yet; not until i get to be inside them.”

sea green eyes bore into your’s, making the depth of your abdomen twist with need. the hand that held your braids slid down to caress your face and ran a thumb over your bottom lip.

“you’ll let me do that, won’t you angel?”

an eager nod soon has you trapped between two large bodies, incapable of remembering what exactly led up to this. with kaldur below you, holding your legs open, he pushed into you until he was bottoming out. roy, who stood before you, took a step closer and placed his tip against kaldur’s shaft. the red headed man slowly worked himself into you.

“w-wait, i can’t–” you squealed once it dawned on you what roy was attempting, and proceeded, to do. “s’too much!”

“‘course you can, baby.” he grinned down at you. “y’said you could.”

the stretch came with a slight burn since your body had never experienced any of this before. your innocence was what previously kept you from indulging in desire, and what now allowed you to welcome it all the same.

you could barely breath as they lay inside you, granting you the chance to get used to the feeling. surprisingly, disregarding all the patience he possessed, kaldur was the first to move. with an unrelenting grip on your thick thighs, he thrust upwards, eliciting a groan from roy and a gasp from you. roy was quickly following suit, he and kaldur both eager to please you and one another.

you were soon reduced to a mess of nonsensical noises and high pitched whines. every touch sent a wave of heat through your body; it was too much and not enough all at once. sweet release came and left and came again, but it did not stop both men from fucking you like they were possessed. in that moment you were nothing but an object to them; a hole for them to use that happened to have a pretty face. and you were treated as such.

you had past the point of fucked dumb, incapable of doing anything but wailing from the growing intensity of every orgasm that followed. tears danced down your cheeks and attempting to form the simplest thought was fruitless. all that remained in your mind was the everlasting feeling of lust and gratification.

trapped in hedonism, both your companions increased their relentless pace. each of them were far too occupied chasing their own highs to worry about you. roy, who had wrapped a hand around your neck, kept his eyes closed as he approached release. meanwhile, kaldur nipped and sucked on your neck while thrusting into you from below. his grunts and deep groans reverberated against your skin, eventually filling your head along with roy’s guttural sounds.

“taking us so well,” kaldur praised in your ear. “ we should keep you around, huh? you want that angel?”

after receiving nothing but whines and moans in response, kaldur canted his hips and ground himself up into you. you shrieked in ecstasy, gushing around both men for the nth time. the only difference however was the feeling of roy pulsing against both you and kaldur.

the latter shifted his attention to the red head, “make them ours roy. cum in–”

your protests cut him off and came in the form of incomprehensible babbles that made it all the more easier to ignore. leaking from his tip, roy thrust inside once more and emptied his load inside you. kaldur was prompted to do the same, biting down on the nape of your neck as he finished off with one final stroke.

even when they pulled out, you still felt filled to the brim. the cum slowly seeping out of you was testament to that feeling. the two men who had just finished rearranging your insides stood over you, looking down at their work. their sexual magnum opus lay on their couch, breathing heavily and still attempting to come down from several orgasms.

kaldur took it upon himself to get you cleaned up and into some fresh clothes while roy returned to smoking his blunt.

“should we drive them home?” he inquired, watching kaldur gently wipe the tears off your face. “or were you serious about keeping them around?”

“have you ever known me to joke about anything, roy?”

chuckling, roy took one final drag from his blunt and proceeded to join them in bed after putting it out. you soon find yourself pressed between their bodies once more. this time it’s in an embrace that warms your aching muscles as you surrender to lethargy.

#roy harper x reader #kaldur x reader #young justice x reader #young justice smut #kaldur smut #roy harper smut #kaldur x black reader #roy harper x black reader #collection :: yj #꒰ slim’s works ꒱

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