#Just wanted to fuck around with “line-less style again”

[liquidstar]

and now for something stupid

#but really i also just wanted to play around w this sort of coloring style bc its been FOREVER since ive used it #and i think i can make it look better now #AND i think i can make more sillay stuff like this and not have it take as long w cleaning up lines #anyway now you all understand the terrible dynamic between these three #phobo's infodump text is just copypasted from the wikipedia page for knives. #julliet ALSO uses knives is the thing so hes actually mansplaining < JOKE #he just wants to share. even if it gives her a headache. but he wouldnt mansplain he doesnt have it in him. hes ok with felonies tho #but julis life hasnt known peace since she was told to take care of the newbies #and shes ALSO a newbie (just slightly less so) so really this is probably just tartarus hazing her #theyd take one look at the two disorganized unserious overeager newbies and think ''you know what would be fucking hilarious'' #and pass them onto the neurotic slightly-less-newbie who takes everything as seriously as possible. disaster combination. #i cannot stress enough that this is a group of bandits and murderers theyre NOT above hazing. #deimos actually is doing the best job at it since he is stealing as we speak #i mean hes not supposed to do it to his teammates but still. on the right track #as for the dynamic between deimos and phobos themselves its like. theyre just bros. theyre both pretty similar in personality #except deimos is kinda more mean and cynical while phobos can be kinda. dense and naive despite literally where hes at in life #but most of the time theyre basically beavis and butthead #i would also like to stress that juli is not being homophobic she just already cannot stand these guys and cant believe the audacity #but. complete misunderstanding. karma for stealing wallets ig #this will never be cleared up by anyone ever #but again thats not their dynamic they are just beavis and butthead. and i guess that makes juli daria LOL #finn's ocs #finn's art

[bunnysbrainrot]

He Wants to Watch

Kinktober Prompt: Doggy Style

Relationship: Sam Winchester x f!Reader, Dean

Content: Explicit sexual scenes, rough sex, dirty talk, creampie, unprotected sex, (lowkey) breeding kink, degrading, voyeurism/exhibitionism, Sam is a little greedy

Summary: It's time for round two, and the younger Winchester hasn't had his fill. Dean is generous enough to let Sammy have a turn, but not without watching exactly how his brother pleases his girl.

** Guessing Game is part 1 - For full context, and more smut, go ahead and read it! I apologize that this is shorter than usual, I’m working on some bigger pieces, and transferring everything to AO3!

Thirty minutes have passed since you collapsed into Dean's mattress, totally sated and limp from pleasure. The two brothers lay on either side of your lax form, caressing your skin with peppered kisses along the way.

Sam locks eyes with his brother, a devilishly curious look glinting within them. Dean's look darkens - a silent agreement.

"How you feeling, sweetheart?" asks Dean, tucking loose hairs away from your cheeks. During the last round, you'd built up a decent sweat that stuck your hair around your temples.

You shift your legs, assessing your soreness. To your surprise, it's not as intense as you'd thought it would be - and paired with the careful massage from the brothers, your recovery time was hurried.

"I'm wonderful," you sigh. Movement comes from behind and a thick warmth presses against your ass.

Sam snakes his arms around your middle and tugs you toward him, away from Dean. There isn't a hint of jealousy on your boyfriend's features. In fact, it seems like he could actually be enjoying this. Sam grips gently at your jaw and cranes your head to face him. That same overwhelming darkness still pools in his eyes; it was a type of shadow that could melt your insides before they're ravaged again.

The blackness of Sam's eyes is not an invitation, or a flirtation. No..

It’s a warning.

Not a word is said as Sam hitches your leg up. You're splayed wide on your side, now with your messy pussy in full view for the brothers. Dean's gaze settles on your displayed cunt, and its proximity to Sam's cock, throbbing and leaking from your past round.

Minutes before, Sam demanded to have you to himself, his words less of a request than a warning. Watching his brother fuck you thoroughly, all the while flaunting what he couldn't have, sent a rush of jealousy through Sam. His cock ached for your dripping cunt - longing to bury itself inside of your walls. It was his right to do so, just as much as his brother.

Sam grips the base of his cock and guides it between your thighs, lining his shaft between your slick folds. He gives a few steady thrusts to lead the head of his cock across your clit, still sensitive from earlier. You whine, looking to Dean.

Darkened eyes greet you. Dean wears a wide, pleased smile on his face, as if watching his brother fuck his own girlfriend could be a source of pride.

"Sammy wants his turn."

A moan escapes you when Sam’s cock brushes against your clit. He slides through your slick folds with a sharp gasp - your warmth kisses the sensitive head, tensing his back from the brush of pleasure. You look to Dean with a confused expression, but your furrowed brows relax when Sam’s cock fixes at your wet hole, eager for his own opportunity.

Your hips relax at his touch and allow Sam to ease his way inside. Sam enters you with a hiss through his teeth. Warmth envelops his cock with every inch, stretching you slowly.

You cry out, whipping your head to look at Sam as he pushes himself inside. His face is contorted in ecstasy, and he lets out a low moan when you clench down onto his length. It’s Dean’s voice that helps encourage you to take more of his brother.

“There you go, baby, just relax. Let Sammy take care of you,” he murmurs, lowering his hand to his groin, taking hold of his own length, pumping himself slowly.

Sam, to his credit, is a bit more endowed than your boyfriend, and he feels absolutely glorious. He has more length to stretch you out, as opposed to Dean’s gift of girth. Regardless, by the time he’s bottomed out, you’re satisfyingly full, mewling into the sheets. He needs to move. You need to feel him.

You buck your hips onto his cock, sinking him into your fluttering walls. A low groan escapes from his chest, thrumming against your back.

“Fuuuck, she’s tight,” he moans, throwing his head against your shoulder.

Dean hums in agreement, still stroking himself next to you. His eyes rove over your form - shaking, moaning, and clenching around Sam’s dick.

After a moment, your slick coats Sam’s length enough to let him in fully, bottoming out in your pussy with a soft groan.

You steady your breathing. You can feel how nicely your pussy is stretching to his size - he’s in your stomach, your lungs, everywhere. He’s far bigger than how he felt down your throat. Apparently your mouth can accommodate him perfectly, but your tight cunt is another matter.

He moves, ever so slightly, dragging his heavy cock through your tight walls to the tip. Sam plunges in with earnest. You cry out at the deeper strike.

Sam’s hand whips around your front to your throat, placing a finger on either side of your windpipe, squeezing down. Dullness throbs through your head as you struggle for a proper breath. His hand eases it’s grip, and the blood rushes heavily back through your head, gifting you a dull ache in your temples, and a thundering rush of adrenaline.

“S-Sam, faster, please,” you whisper. He groans in response, snapping his hips into yours.

The pace becomes relentless. Sam takes no time easing you into it like his brother does - he takes your request and sprints ahead with it, delivering blow after blow to your ravaged pussy.

Dean watches his brother’s cock work itself inside of your entrance, glossy when it leaves with your slick.

“Rougher, Sam.”

Dean’s command shudders through him, and Sam reaches for your waist, shoving you onto your stomach. From this angle surely he can strike deeper. Harder.

With a grunt, Sam hauls your hips upward, slipping from your pussy and giving you a cold kiss of the air. A whimper escapes you, pleading with him to return his heat.

You squirm to brace yourself on your elbows. A warmth prods at your stretched hole - Sam’s cock teases your needy pussy with the thick head of his length. The silence in the room is not one of awkwardness; instead, it happens to add a new erotic element of being watched. Observed by Dean.

Craning your head you can see Dean’s lazy smile as he fucks his hand. His eyes are glued to your expressions, waiting anxiously for it to warp as Sam enters you again.

He does so in one swift thrust. You’re thrust into the sheets again, falling limp into the mattress with the overwhelming pleasure.

Sam’s name slurs around your tongue. Whether it was in protest or pleading, you couldn’t tell. The force of his snapping hips set your nerves on high alert, every inch of you surges as he moves. Your name tumbles past his lips, drawn out like a song. His voice has your back arching - with the deep rumble of the utterance, like a prayer and curse all in one.

His hips sharply snap against your ass. All cohesive thought vanishes as his cock pounds against your cervix, sending a full throb through your cunt. If you weren’t sore with Dean from before, surely you’d have trouble moving now.

“Letting me use you right after my brother,” Sam growls, “you’re such a dirty slut.”

The abrasive words ignite you, leaving you to moan softly into the blanket.

“And I’d bet you want my cum, too, huh?” his voice is laced with venom, as filthy as your body feels, “I saw how badly you wanted Dean’s, I could tell you wanted more. Just a dumb cumslut, aren’t you?”

You manage a nod. Sam’s fingers card through your hair and gain purchase, jerking your head back, angling you to look at him. He braces himself into a kneel and crouches over you, angling himself to thrust deeper, crashing his cock into your sweet spot.

Sam’s voice brushes over your ear amidst the wet slaps of his balls hitting your drenched cunt. Each strike lands on your swollen clit, with small spurts of pleasure following behind.

“Dean,” he begins. Sam tilts his head to his brother, now more fervently pleasuring himself. His strokes are rougher with each passing second. Darkness blows out Sam’s eyes as he asks, “Can I finish inside of her?”

Dean’s brows twitch with annoyance, but his expression shifts. He gives a simple nod.

Go ahead.

“Oh, fuck, yes,” he groans. “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll give you plenty.”

You can feel Sam’s smile against your ear before me takes the lobe between his teeth. He talks lowly to drive himself closer. While his brother may take his time to please you, it’s not Sam’s job to prioritize that. This is his once chance, and he’s not patient under the pressure.

“Pretty little cum dumpster,” his words strain, “Two brothers in the same night - fucking filthy. You’re one depraved bitch.”

The words strain the tightness welling in your abdomen. You’re about the snap, but based on Sam’s faltering thrusts, he may beat you to it.

“Please-“ you choke.

“Quiet,” he orders, “you take what I give you, when I give it to you.”

Having no control in it doesn’t upset you in the slightest. After all, you were the girl turned whore when you decided to fuck your boyfriends brother.

His jutting hips lose their rhythm as his orgasm approaches. Sam hisses at the tension in his abdomen before his release spills into your abused cunt, coating your walls with white.

“Shiiit,” he exhales. Sam unsheathes from your used hole, staring pridefully at his cum leaking from your pulsing pussy. It flows downward, covering your gleaming folds and stiff clit in a white sheer. Underneath him, you whine into the bed, clenching your cunt onto nothing, keeping his seed inside.

You pry your eyes open to look for Dean. You find him with his hips slacked and cock leaking into his hand. His own cum stains his stomach in a white gloss. He flutters his eyes closed, completely sated.

Sam helps ease your hips back down onto the bed; he steps away after muttering something about ‘cleaning up’. A moment later he returns with a lukewarm washcloth, tending to your messiest areas, and then working on himself.

He lounges on the bed to your side. You pant softly to come down from the high. Sam’s cum still seeps between your slick folds, reminding you of the filthy deed you two did.

Perhaps out of respect for Dean, Sam doesn’t kiss you afterward. His comfort to you is to stroke a hand through your hair idly as Dean recovers. Your boyfriend grumbles your name before reaching for you.

You give him a once-over, seeing as he hasn’t cleaned up his own ‘aftermath’. You arch an eyebrow at him.

“Clean yourself up, and then we’ll talk.”

You hear Sam’s breathy laugh from behind. Dean rolls his eyes and reaches for the discarded washcloth, doing as you requested.

Hi y’all, I hope you enjoyed! If you did, it would be a huge support if you reblog! Happy Kinktober!

#fanfiction #supernatural #spnfandom #spn #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural smut #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester smut #bunny writes #kinktober

[1nthedarknessofthenight]

﴾ out of the blue, part two.

pairing: ot8 x f!reader, part one

genre: one-shot, idol au, smut

word count: 14,5k

warnings: gangbang ⋆ unprotected sex ⋆ hair pulling ⋆ small choking ⋆ biting ⋆ marking ⋆ ass slapping ⋆ one!pussy slap ⋆ oral (m. and f. receiving) ⋆ fingering (f. receiving) ⋆ squirting ⋆ multiple!creampie ⋆ cum eating ⋆ rimming and fingering (f. receiving) ⋆ anal ⋆ boobjob! ⋆ double penetration! ⋆ cowgirl! and reverse cowgirl!position ⋆ doggy style! and ass up, face down!position ⋆ daddy kink (guess for who) ⋆ small boy and boy action—the guys are just really close but nothing happens

summary: after some much needed alone time with your boyfriend on his birthday, you somehow forgot about his friends coming over…

author’s note: y’all was hungry for part two so here it is and thank you all for the support!

──────────────────────

You were gasping for air, hands in your lap and legs tucked underneath you as you try to make yourself as small as possible. However there is no way you could hide from any of their eyes. This whole situation shouldn’t make you feel so excited, yearning for anything to happen. This was all your boyfriend’s idea, you thought, looking at his figure sitting on your loveseat, watching all of this so innocently but you could see right through him. He likes this idea as much as you do, well he wanted it first for some odd reason, you are just trying to pick up any self dignity left in you.

You sat on the couch with two of his friends, you at the corner, trying to conceal yourself. Your eyes catch the hard eyes of the leader of the band, face scrunched up into an expression you know he does if truly impressed. It makes you pick up the tulle of your babydoll, keeping your hands occupied as you suddenly feel something shift beside you. The room is quiet, awfully so, everyone waiting for someone to pick up the conversation and it was no other than the cute guy with puffy cheeks and pouty lips.

You turn your head to him. He sits next to you, though now closer, moving slowly like he is being careful not to scare you away. Is it bad you want your boyfriend’s friends to fuck you? “You look pretty.” Han says, looking at your face but his eyes keep glancing down at your push up bra. Your breath hitches as his hand slowly comes to your breast, stopping to caress only with his finger the lace of your bra. You swear you could feel his touch burning you.

“We don’t have to do this, Y/N.” Spoke up Chan, making you snap your head into his direction. He out of everyone looks slightly less deranged from this situation, in exception the youngest doesn’t even want to look at you. “We can pretend like this never happened. We already talked about it–“

“You talked about this?” You breathe out in small shock, eyes wide. The hand hovering over your breast suddenly comes to your thigh, squeezing it. You glance back at Han, heart pumping wildly. His whole demeanor seem to change as the only thing on his mind is your skin against his.

Licking his pretty, pink lips, he looks up with a small cheeky smile on his lips. “We did. Everyone would really like to make this whole fantasy come true.”

“Don’t act so innocent now, Y/N.” Says Seungmin. “We heard how much you like this idea.”

Your lips are pressed against each other into a thin line, head hanging low. How could you not when your boyfriend was giving it to you all so good and then talked about his equally handsome friends joying you two. A finger raises your head back up by your chin, making you look into the dark eyes of one of his friends. You almost sigh in annoyance at his unmoving hand on your thigh. “Do you like it, Y/N?”

Shivering, you close your eyes for a moment, before opening them again. This isn’t a dream, this is literally your dirtiest fantasy come true. You always wanted to be tossed around, used and fucked dumb that the only thing on your mind is them. Everyone would kill to be in your position right now. From dating one of the most desirable man right now, to be touched like this by his friends — to be fucked by all of them. You don’t know what makes Felix so horny about this from his point but he definitely likes it as much as you. Looking into his eyes you only see desire, almost pleading but he would never push you into something you wouldn’t like. Oh, but you love it. “Yes!” You say, leaning over to get closer to Han. Your voice is raspy as your mind is overfilling with dirty thoughts. “Fuck, I love it..please fuck me, all of you.”

Your hands fly to his shirt, crunching it up in your fists. Han breathes out shakily, eyes shining in the setting sun, peaking out of the window. He grabs your forearms tightly, making your boobs push flush together. “Damn, love. You sure know how to use the proper words…” Exclaims Minho, voice on an edge, he was slightly shock by your sudden boldness.

Heart beats wildly inside your chest, looking into the eyes of your boyfriend’s friend, faces so close but you still had to make sure… “Can I Felix?” You mumble, tightening your grip on the shirt, while glancing at your boyfriend.

His eyes were wide, licking his lips at the sight before him. “I think he wants this more than you do.” Teases Changbin, glancing at your boyfriend’s obvious bulge. Some of them laugh at the words but your attention is only on Felix who wipes his sweaty palms onto his sweatpants.

He watches his close friend leaning over your body, lips dangerously close to the pulse point on your neck. He can’t miss the twinkle in his eyes and the way he grips your arms closer to his slightly exposed chest. Felix slowly nods his head, sealing the deal. The answer fills the heavy air and you sigh out as Han in front of you finally presses his lips onto your neck.

He firstly kisses the skin softly, testing if you don’t mind but you only pull him closer at that. You feel light headed from the way his kisses become progressively more rough. He, for a moment stops, turning his head to look you in your eyes, pulling your hands away from his shirt. Words weren’t exchange but you understood immediately, loosening your grip on the material and he on the other hand does something different. His hold travels over your arms to your wrist, awaking goosebumps all over your body. His movements stop there, pressing your wrist together, before pulling your arms above your head.

You gasp out as he slowly makes your fall back onto the couch, pressing your arms by your wrists on the headrest. It’s been a long time since you felt so helpless under someone, it makes a different kind of emotions run through you. You never felt cornered or intimidated by Han, he was always so sweet to you and in some way he reminded you of your boyfriend. The two were always sweet, bright smiles all over their faces but you should’ve known better. Even by dating Felix for a while now, he still surprised you by his dominance sometimes but you never guessed Han to be the same. He towers over you now, hips dangerously close to yours as he kneeled between your open legs. God, you have to buy some new panties.

He lowers himself closer to you, chests pressing together and both of you sighing. You could feel his well made muscles on your chest and he could definitely feel your hard nipples poking him through the layers of clothing. Your mouth opens in silent gasp as his knee grazes over your crotch and he uses your surprise by pressing his lips to yours. There are pillowy, you could taste his cherry chapstick on them, making you moan on his tongue that grazed over your teeth. It feels so dirty and wrong to kiss someone other than your boyfriend and literally infront of him but you now know that this could basically make him cum in his pants, like he did the first time he ate you out.

You are right however by your statement that Han is in some way similar to your boyfriend. The boy was whimpering like crazy, whining with you as he made you roll your hips onto his knee. You are dizzy from his touch, completely at his mercy, enjoying the fact that he could do whatever he desires with your body — all of them. You must be fucked in the head, already leaking onto his jeans but as your head rolls to the side, your eyes open. The guys are chewing on their lips, Hyunjin already palming himself slightly to relief some tension, even Jeongin now couldn’t help but glance at you.

Changbin tsks, just as Han starts to again lick at your neck. “Who said you could go first?” He says, raising up to his feet. He looks so good like this, eyes staring at you from the above and the way his shirt clinged onto his chest and arms, made your pussy clench around nothing.

The boy for a second pulls away from you, pressing his face onto your collarbones. “Who said I couldn’t?” He fires back, pulling himself up too his knees to look at you, still holding your hands over your head.

You glance back at the other who now leans over you, caging you to the couch with one of his hands on the cushion. The way his muscles jump at the stretch, makes your face flush with heat. You, one night once shared your adoration about his muscles with your boyfriend who also has thing for them. “You won’t mind us sharing you, right?” You open your mouth to say your answer but a chocked cough echoes in the room, making you all look to that direction.

“Before we do anything, we should probably talk about safe words first.” Says Chan, like the good leader he is but you could see the way his face is deeply flushed even from here. “What’s your safe word, babygirl?”

You visible shiver at the nickname and his voice that dropped in tone. Hands come to you thighs caressing you, for a moment you forgot to answer, looking down and seeing two sets of hands at each one of your legs. “The traffic light…” Your voice is almost too quiet because how can you talk when two beautiful men are touching your sensitive thighs? You hope that none of the comes across that one sensitive spot…

“Use it if you need it, we can stop anytime you want…you understand?” You nearly missed his question, watching Han as he kisses the inside of your right knee while Changbin’s hand travels teasingly up and down your leg. You, for a second meet Minho’s eyes from behind Han’s head.

“Yes…” You whimper, biting your bottom lip at the embarrassing sound, closing your eyes. A thumb touches your lip before you could bite at it even more, making you look into the dark eyes of the man. Changbin experimentally, after you release your lip from the cages of your teeth, trails his thumb over the inside of your mouth. If you had a mirror, you’d be blushing at your already messy state, lifting your hand to take the thumb inside your mouth.

“Tell me the words.” Orders the leader, voice cracking at the end, like in a groan. The hands around your wrists loosen, but you still had them there, hearing a small ’good girl’ from the corner of the room. Next you feel kisses on your knee again, watching as Han slowly makes his way lower and lower while making an so intense eye contact that you almost whimper again.

The thumb in your mouth goes deeper, pressing on your tongue, you could feel the saltiness of his skin or was it your pathetic tears you were tasting? Changbin’s eyes are peaking at you from behind his disheveled hair, chest heaving up and down wildly. You at the moment remembered that you still have to answer as the kisses aren’t traveling far enough for you nor the boy who isn’t touching you no more. “Green for keep going, y-yellow to slow down–“ You squeal slightly when Han touches you with his hand right where your thigh meets your pubic bone. No way he already found it. “–and red to stop.” You finish, eyes wide at those watching you from beneath. You don’t like the smirk on his face.

“Good girl.”

You gasp around the thumb in your mouth, drooling slightly. “Careful sweetheart, Channie here has a daddy kink.”

“I do not!” Defends Chan himself by the remark made by Minho. You however feel your pussy thighten around nothing for some reason at this small information. You have seen a video of Chan calling himself daddy as a joke but you don’t think he was joking at all. And you can’t say that he didn’t look like one.

“What’s your color, sweetheart?” Says Changbin, ignoring the bickering as the prettiest girl is right under him.

You look up at him, eyes glassy. How is this even a question? “Green.” You say, voice mumbled by his thumb pressing down on your tongue. The two men smile at your words and finally Changbin switches his thumb with his own tongue.

You groan at his taste and you couldn’t help but to pull your hands from behind your head to run through his curls. The skirt of your babydoll is lifted up to your soft tummy, fingers traveling over your skin while you make out with another of your boyfriend’s friends. A loud gasp comes from your mouth, pulling away from Changbin as you feel Han sucking right at your spot. Your hips jump wildly, in shock from how one of your sensitive spots is so roughly stimulated. It tickles slightly and Han couldn’t help but laugh at how much you are sensitive there. He didn’t expect that it would be that much. His laugh vibrates on your skin, it is so embarrassing how wet you are getting, you could feel your wetness pulling under you. “Sensitive there, huh?” Joins Changbin, mumbling the words against your gaping mouth.

The way Han’s fingers are pressing tightly on your hips, trying to keep them from moving while basically making out with your sweet spot is almost enough to make you cum. His mouth is so close to your pussy, basically feeling it on you from how his saliva mixes with your arousal and damping even more the lace of your underwear. When he suddenly bites down on it, his teeth dangerously tugging at the edge of your panties you whine out. “Please!”

Changbin looks at you with mock confusion, Minho peaking from behind the other and cooing at your words. “You have to ask for what you want, pretty or nothing.” His eyes go to the strap of your outfit that slides down your shoulder and he couldn’t help but marvel over your tits.

You bang your head down on the couch, hips raising desperately as Han only bites you more at your desperate movements. There definitely is going to be a spot after but you didn’t talk about marking, so you won’t say anything against it. “Please…” You try again, eyes filling with small tears. You feel so little at the thought of begging in this room filled with men waiting for their own turn to fuck you. You raise your head to look down at Han who for a second stops his sucking at your sensitive skin. “-need your mouth.”

“Where?” He smirks, making you whine, head rolling away to possible hide from the watchful eyes. Changbin doesn’t like your lack of answer as well as his companion, grabbing you roughly by the chin to make you look back at him.

“I thought you would be good to us.”

“I am!”

“No…” He says, clicking his tongue, other hand traveling down to the bottom of your skirt, only pulling it up more. “Be good and tell us what you want.”

You close your eyes for a moment but your self respect already left the room minutes ago, the moment they saw you. “Please, Han-“ The man looks at you in expectation. “Eat my pussy, please, I need you so bad.”

He groans at your words, eyes rolling back and pulling at the material of your underwear in hurry. The hand on your chin maneuvers you to its owner, his tongue fucking your mouth messily. You raise your hips, helping the other to remove the necessary piece of clothing. As the cold air hit your folds, you realize that you’re exposed to someone completely new but before you could completely cross your legs, Han manhandles you, making your hips momentarily lift from the couch. You yelp as he lifts your bottom half before bending it so your legs are up, your whole pussy on display for the whole room.

His hands hold your legs up by the bottom of your thighs and your mind goes completely blank as his wet, hot tongue laps a straight, long line on your cunt. Gasping out, your hand grasps the shoulder of his friend who pulls away from you to have a look at how much of a mess you are. Han eats you out like starved, saliva everywhere, tongue lazily licking you all up and juices dripping down your legs. You whine, whimper, noises so filthy that they made you embarrassed but your reaction only made the boy go faster, eyes shining with his own tears of pleasure.

Minho as everyone else couldn’t help but to stare at you with longing. His friend is so lucky, pussy as pretty as your pleasured face and the sounds? He has to lean over the body of his friend who is now sucking at your cute, little clit to have a better look. His body presses against his, hand running up his back and to the the back of his neck, before they pull at his head. Han face is completely red, face completely covered in you and the only thing he could smell are your sweet juices. “Don’t be selfish, Hannie…tell us how she tastes.” The second oldest says, hand still at his hair, making his head fall back in delight.

“So fucking good, hyung.” He says, grinning wildly at his friends. “You have to taste her…”

Minho humms at his words, before shocking you as he swipes his finger on Han’s lips before putting into his mouth. You curse silently at the sight but it still reaches his ears, making him smirk down at you both. “Hmm, you are right—she does taste so fucking good–“ He groans, tilting his head at you. “Wonder what her own mouth can do…Changbin, would you mind testing it for us?” He smacks his lips again at your tangy taste.

Your eyes travel to the named man who plays with your bottom lip. “How is she with her mouth, Yongbok?”

Everyone turns to him, you also. Felix wakes up from his trance as his friends and girlfriend look at him suddenly. You wanted to ask him if he is all good but deep down you just know — know that he is getting off to this. “What?” He asks, voice tiny, Seungmin and Hyunjin snicker at his reaction.

“Is she good with her mouth?”

Looking at his best friend he glances back at you, giving you a small smile. “The best.” The blonde says proudly, making you flush as all of them answer in series of sighs, ‘aaaa’ and ‘ohhh’.

Changbin turns back at you, slowly standing up and to your delight his crotch perfectly hovered over your face. “Want you…” You say, words falling from mind out of your mouth before you could think them over. Your words seem to surprise him for moment as well as your hands on his upper thighs, nails piercing the material of his black jeans. The look on his face told you that he has zero patience left in him and same goes for you, pulling his tight shirt up his stomach. Your mouth waters at his soft yet defined tummy, fingers helping him unbuckle his belt and pull down his pants.

His cock hits your chin before you could even take a good look at him and when you do your mouth opens with no words coming out. He was thicker than your boyfriend and you couldn’t help but imagine how he would feel stretching you out. You however still have in your mind that your boyfriend is perfect for you and you will always stand by it. You moan loudly as Minho suddenly pulls Han’s head back into your pussy, Changbin taking your surprise by shoving his tip into your mouth.

He tasted sweet, tip so thick and flushed that it almost looked like it hurts but you are already swallowing it all down. He groans as you took him deeper as well as you could while you are being eaten out. “Fuuck, isn’t she pretty?” The man before you rasps out, head rolling back as your tongue flicker over the prominent vein on his dick.

“The prettiest.”

You don’t even know who said that as you are pretty occupied at the moment. You choke around him as you take him deeper into your mouth, drool already rolling down your chin. The whole room was filled with nasty, wet sounds of your cunt and your mouth trying to take down the biggest dick you probably had. Han doesn’t seem to want to breathe, you don’t wonder why Minho has his fingers still in his hair, pulling his head up to let him take a breath while it only edges you further. You think you were close almost three times so far and the way Minho who quickly picked up on your expressions of frustration did it only to tease you more, makes you want to cry. He is evil but he knows, it will only make you cum harder.

You moan around the cock in your mouth, slurping it all up as it hits the back of your throat. Gagging, Changbin pulls you away to let you breathe, gulping in air but it is hard as the mouth on your pussy only licks more into you. Han pulls away slightly to stretch your lips apart by his fingers before sticking his whole tongue inside your tight hole. You almost scream at the feeling, you have never been fucked by someone’s tongue this way and it set the inside of your tummy on fire. “I cuuuming—“ You whine out, eyes squeezing shut, legs shaking wildly, still being held up. It hurt so bad but also so good…

“So soon?” Teases the cat like man, already seeing how he would make his friend pull away from you. It made you cry out.

“Please, let me cum—I’ve been good!”

Minho who wasn’t even doing much to you seems to be the one controlling your whole body. “Don’t ask me.” He surprises you, making you look at him just as he gestures to the man eating your pussy.

You feel yourself hanging right on the edge, hand caresses the side of your head, making it tilt to the direction for everyone to see. “Please, Hannie, I’m so close, let me cum, please, please–“ He doesn’t answer too busy fucking his tongue inside your hole and you are thankful as you are almost tasting your sweet release. When his thumb circle your puffy, red clit you immediately fall apart on his tongue, hand shooting to grab at his hair, right on top his friend’s.

You see black spots behind your eyes that roll back inside your head, body arching off the couch. Even after cumming Han doesn’t stop, only going harder and after already three orgasms in one day makes your whole body shake. “No more!” You plead, surprising yourself by pulling him away from you, clit twitching even after not being touched anymore. Both of you try to catch your breath from your earth shattering orgasm. Curse after curse flying out of everyone’s mouth because of how amazing you just looked cumming. Your boyfriend is so lucky to have a girl like you.

Your eyes open again, sticking together a little by your mascara running down your cheeks and you at the moment realize you still had big, now leaking cock before your face. You don’t know if it was the orgasm but something made you want even more. You want to taste everyone. Know how each one of them fucks and looks while cumming only for you. You surprise the man before you with pulling him by his hips, to swallow his whole cock. He gasps in pleasure and amazement at you taking his whole cock down your throat, thank god your throat was already used enough for you to do that.

“Fuck, I need to fuck you.” Moans Han, you in response humming around his friend’s cock. Your hand grabs Changbin’s, him letting you lace it though your hair and you completely still at that.

“You want me to fuck your mouth?” You nod but that wasn’t enough for him.

Your eyes flicker to Han who pulls down his t-shirt over his head, for a second looking dumbly at his slim waist and defined muscles while a string of saliva connects you to Changbin. “Fuck my mouth.” You repeat as the other pulls down his pants slightly before stopping.

“Does anybody have a condom?”

“No!” You answer too quickly, everyone looking at you with wide eyes. You don’t usually let anyone go raw, even before meeting your amazing boyfriend you have never let anyone but you trusted them and you even think that some maybe have also never done it. Sex or going raw? Probably both. “We don’t have to…” You try to reason a little, meeting the eyes of your boyfriend who looked anything but against it. Gosh, he is so dirty, it’s sinful…

“Fuck, you are going to let me fuck you raw?” Asks Han who rubs the skin of your thighs, warming them up with his touch. His eyes are wide in excitement, pants low enough to make you get a glimpse of the base of his cock, small hairs on his pubic bone. You nod with a small smile, making him pull his dick out and as his whole body, he is beautiful. Long enough to hit the most sensitive spots and curved perfectly at the tip.

“Do your hear that Felix? You gonna let him fuck your girlfriend raw?” Spoke up Seungmin, eyes wild just as his blonde hair.

“Whatever my baby wants.”

You whimper at his words, eyes looking into his before you feel the tip of Han’s cock entering you as well as Changbin raising your head to take him again in your mouth. “Color?” Asks the man between your legs, skin glistening under the light.

“Green.” You murmur around the cock in your mouth and he at that pushes himself inside you fully. If he didn’t hear you and Felix fucking or if didn’t eat you out like starved, he might have preped you a little but you are a big girl. You’re going to take it all.

Your ears ring, completely deaf and oblivious of your loud moans of pleasure as Han snaps his hips into yours. The way the hair at the top of his cock grinds over your used clit, makes you only gush more around him. You could feel every vein on him, tip kissing just at you cervix while you try so desperately to keep up with the other cock in your mouth. You just lay there under them, Changbin using your mouth as he pleases, hissing every time you swallow around him. “You feel so fucking good–holy shit!-“ Han looks and sounds already spend, gasping every time your gummy walls would clench around him. He falls over you, hands balancing himself only by your tits that he grabs at.

“I don’t think I will last–“ He laughs, slightly in embarrassment but you only encourage him by gripping at the hand playing with your sensitive nipple. “Fuck where do you want me?”

You are at that pulled away abruptly from the the cock in your mouth that you feel twitching on your cheek. “Wherever you want…” You rasp out, eyes hooded.

He whimpers quietly only for your ears as others only hear the sound of skin slapping. He looks slightly in panic, not knowing where to cum, it was cute if he wouldn’t be fucking you so hard. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum on your tits-“ You nod in agreement, him straightening his back to pull the top of your bra down, making your tits spill out, nipples hardening even more from the cold air.

His hips shutter, pulling out quickly but some of his cum still lands on your cunt. Changbin lets you shuffle down a little for his friend to completely cover you in his cum. The warm liquid drips over your tits, pooling into your cleavage and it was so lot of it that even he has to gasp at the sight. “Holy fucking–“ He doesn’t let himself finish before lowering his head to take your left nipple into his mouth.

You gasp at his teeth grazing it and at the way how dirty this feels, seeing him suck his release from your skin. To your displeasure he is again pulled away by Minho who makes room for Changbin to grab you by your hips and pull you down the couch, so your whole ass is hanging from the couch. However he holds you tightly in his arms by your hips and before you could talk he slides inside you till he hits your cervix.

You don’t even say anything, only gasping in short breaths at his immediate fast pace. He stretched you out, the slight sting only making you more crazy in the head. Your hands grap roughly at the cushion behind your head, gripping for dear life to try and find some sanity left in you. You could feel him twitching already inside of you because your mouth is too good not to blow right away, he really held himself together till now, just so he could feel you clamping down on him. How are going to take all of them, you don’t know but you just have to — you need it.

“Gonna cum inside, yeah?” He announces, you only grasping at his shirt that keeps riding up his stomach. You can’t help but put your legs around his hips, pulling him closer if that’s even possible and to your surprise you do but it also makes him go deeper. His left hand wraps around your middle while the other grabs your chin to pull you into a kiss.

You both gasp as his hips snap into you so roughly you knock your head into the back of the couch, feeling him empty himself inside of you. The fact his cum is probably now mixing with your boyfriend’s makes you break out in a sob. As he puts your bottom half back on the couch, he pulls out of you slowly, his cum immediately leaking out of you. “Fuck me.” Someone speaks up, your glassy eyes only meeting with Felix’s, hand squeezing his still covered cock.

You catch your breath, well you try to, sitting up next to the guys who almost now sat on top of each other. Your hair sticks to your forehand, making you wipe the substance off when Han already back at least in his boxers tilts his head at you. “But you didn’t say I could…” You are confused, mind still hazy but thankfully there is someone who answers for you.

“She asked you, idiot.” Says Seungmin, walking up to you slowly, making you gulp as comes to grab your chin. “Your bad, maybe next time buddy.” You hate how you only got more excited by his words, also having a feeling that this definitely isn’t the last time you will let them use you.

Minho gestures for the boy next to him to move, him doing just that as you know are between him and Seungmin. As you calm down your racing heart you realize your tits are out as also your whole bottom half visible for anyone. You bashfully cross your arms, eyes everywhere but the two of them but you only meet eyes with Chan who already has his own on where your hands were. You somehow forgot about the others as you were literally just fucked into the couch.

Soft touch at your arms around your breasts as well as on your crossed legs, makes your body relax a little. You look at your right at Seungmin who held a surprising softness in his eyes. They are all are so sweet to you…”Do you want to keep going?” You nod at his words, mirroring the smile on his face. “Color?”

“So fucking green.”

Minho laughs shortly, you turning to him to catch just in time his gorgeous smile. It makes you feel blessed. “Good because we are not going to be so gentle with you.” You wonder how because what happened just a moment was already enough but you couldn’t help but yearn for more.

He doesn’t see any signs of you backing out and he has to say you’re a little slutty for being already horny again, waiting for new people to pleasure your body. Minho leans to lick your bottom lip, you gasping at the contact as your head is pulled back to give room for the other to kiss down your neck. Minho bites your bottom lip, enjoying your little sighs. He keeps doing that and without you even knowing, pulling away your arms from your chest. You only notice it by the cold air hitting your cum covered nipples.

Seungmin blew cold air at your sticky skin, goosebumps appearing on your body before putting his mouth back at the same spot. He sucks at the skin where your neck meets your ear before biting down for the sole purpose to create a hickey. You gasp at his boldness and him using your surprise to trail his hand down to cup your dripping center. Two people on you, pleasuring you with their mouths is a little much but also not enough at the same time. You want them to consume you whole and then spit you out like the slut you are.

Minho pulls away from your mouth, eyes twinkling with mischief. “What do you say Seungmin? Should we bend her over the couch?”

The named man looks at his friend, mockingly thinking. “The slut doesn’t deserve the comfort-“ He looks at you while saying that dirty name but you only look back at him with longing. No one called you that before and in any other situation with someone other than your boyfriend or his friends you wouldn’t like that but you now feel like him calling you that is quite fitting — because you do feel like one.

“You’re quite right.” Smirks the man with red hair, staring at you like you were something filthy to look at. “Get on the floor.” Your mouth hangs open. “Now.”

Slowly and clumsily you let yourself slide down the couch till your knees hit the carpet. You look up from there to the other side of the couch, now closer to you than before. How Hyunjin and Chan are staring down at you, makes you shake with exception because you couldn’t wait for them to have their turn. Your eyes look at the youngest who sits next to Changbin, under his legs the cute boy with puffy cheeks. You are slightly concern as because Jeongin simply doesn’t want to meet your eyes, big hands palming his baggy jeans but you know that if he wouldn’t want to be here, the others would’ve already do something about it.

Your staring is interrupted as someone’s hands push you down on to your hands, pulling your ass immediately back to them. Turning around you of course see the older one needing the flesh of your ass. You watch him pull his shirt between his teeth and you at that feel his cock leakage on your ass cheek. You would do anything to see him right now as well as also his body, knowing about the little scar on his stomach and you feel your heart in someway skip a beat because he is now showing it freely and comfortably.

Your head is turned back around, gasping as Seungmin already pulled himself out of his pants. He was so long and veiny, you wonder how you’re going to take him all into your mouth, already feeling your jaw hurting at the sight. You think back at how they talked about how rough they will be with you and when Minho suddenly slides his whole dick inside of you, you think you’re going to black out by the end of it.

Your whine breaks into groan as the older snaps his hips back before burring himself back inside of you with roughness you have never felt before. Your lips touch the tip of Seungmin’s cock, smearing his precum over your lips, like your own personal lipgloss. Your tongue pokes out to lick away the salty liquid, before rolling out of your mouth to let him grind his tip all over your tongue. He groans at the sight and how your eyes are barely open from his friend’s movements. He really does have the dancer hips.

When you teasingly with the tip of your tongue poke at the underside of his cockhead, he grabbed you by your hair to finally bury himself into your mouth. You don’t even gag anymore, throat completely relaxed for his cock but you can’t say the same about your cunt that keeps clenching around Minho. He bites down hard at the material between his teeth, already soaked in his saliva before letting it fall from his mouth to speak up. “Has anyone ever fucked you here?”

His words are followed by the feeling of his thumb at the rim of your ass, waking you up from your fucked out state. You don’t move for a second, letting his thumb circle over the hole that is already wet from your leaking slick. When you however suddenly feel his thumb breaching the tight rim of muscles, you tap hurriedly at Seungmin’s thigh who pulls you from him by your hair.

Your vision is a bit blurry when looking back at the man who stopped all of his movements. “I-I-“ You try to gulp for air, shaking your head wildly in embarrassment, not meeting anyone’s eyes. A sudden slap rings around the room, you yelping from the harsh sting given by the man behind you.

“W-what, s-sweatheart?” He mocks. He already sees through you. He knows that you’re not feeling uncomfortable or anything as he could feel your wetness drip from where you two are joined.

“I’m prepped!” You exclaim, heat raising all over your body, looking at Felix from beneath your hair. “…I know how much you wanted to try it–“

Everyone gasps in amazement from your confession, the hands on your ass only holding at the meat of it tighter. “Fuck you heard that Yongbok?” Breaths out his hyung, leaning over you, pressing his chest against your back while his thumb is back at your ass. “Would you mind if I fucked her there before you?”

The blonde’s eyes widened, he wants so badly to be the first one but something about seeing his hyung do that made him even harder. “We don’t have lube…” Is the only thing he says, making you gasp. Is this really happening?

“With a leaking cunt like that? He won’t be needing any-“ Snickers Seungmin.

Then you whine in the lost of contact as Minho suddenly pulls himself out of you. “Fuck!” You cry out loudly as his next action knocks you down to your face. He spread your cheeks before licking along stripe from your pussy to your ass, circling his muscle there at the rim.

You shove your head into your arms, gasping for air as he ate you out from the back. This position and situation made you feel so little, sobbing into your arms at the foreign stimulation. A finger presses inside of you slightly, the tight muscles rejecting it. “Color?”

You don’t answer because you don’t know how. Do you want to keep going or stop? There really is no between at the moment. The heavy air in the room is quiet other than your small whimpers. You are pulled up to rest on your knees, Minho tilting your head to look at him. “If you don’t want to, you can say no. No one is pressuring you.” His tone is soft both hands resting on your tummy.

“I want to…” You trail off, trying to look away, slightly anxious but he doesn’t let you. You look in to his eyes, you always liked them, they seem to shine like two little pearls. “I’m just nervous, I’ve never done it before.” And there are many things you haven’t done before till now, it kind of seems a lot on your mind but your heart only wants more.

“I’m going to be gentle, I promise.” He kisses you shortly, you melting at this side of him. “You are safe in this room, you can relax, nothing is going to happen to you.”

You become shy at his sweet words and the genuineness in his voice. Your head rolls down his shoulder, hiding in the collar of his shirt. “Okay.”

His next kiss is on your forehead, making you look up at him with big eyes before another one lands on your nose. You can’t help but smile softly, feeling his hands traveling down under the skirt of your babydoll. You are surprised that it is still intact at this point. His rough fingertips graze over your sensitive folds while the other stops at the side of your clit while his lips make a trail of kisses on your shoulder. Your eyes close, body slumping against his as his left hand plays with your clit, careful enough to not put much pressure on it. His other seems to only play with your wetness, scooping it up before he pulls his hand back to only press it at your virgin hole.

You don’t feel your body repulsing this foreign touch, only welcoming it as the finger slowly dips inside of you, you melting at the pleasure from your stimulated bundle of nerves. You hear a small curse behind you, the man mumbling it into your skin. “Is she tight, hyung?” Asks Seungmin who now sat on the couch behind you, lazily stroking himself.

“Yeah–“ He groans at your moan as his other finger joins the first. His hand leaves your pussy to fondle your breast and you sigh again relief of finally getting some stimulation there. His thumb and forefinger twist your nipple just right, hips rolling back on his fingers. Every passing moment makes you hungry for more, bouncing yourself slightly on his digits. “That didn’t took long–“ He teases, already back to his cheeky self.

Your hole is left gaping open as he withdraws from you and you are already whining in annoyance, turning around to look at him, only seeing him stand up to his feet. You finally take a small glimpse at his manhood, hanging heavily between his legs. “Aren’t you forgetting someone?” Your eyes widened, glancing at Seungmin who caught your oogling.

He gestures with his hand to come sit on top of him where he lays on the couch. You decided it is far easier just to crawl over to him, knowing your shaky legs would immediately gave up on you. A low hiss comes from Chan’s lips from the beautiful view, he already has a idea about which position he wants you in and he definitely isn’t the only one as the long haired man next to him furrows his eyebrows.

You crawl up the couch, legs on each side of the blonde’s hips, gasping at the way he looks underneath you. You are shoved into his chest by the older, chest pressed against Seungmin’s, his tip just at your entrance. You moan in relief as his long cock enters you, immediately clenching down on him when you again feel fingers at your other hole. The one under you starts to bounce you back and forth on him, every time you would go back it only makes the fingers go deeper inside your ass.

It so good but so much, you have never felt so full till you feel Minho replace his fingers with his cock. “Relax for us, kitty–“ His hand pushes your lower back down, making you arch more for him. Your heart beats so fast you could feel it in your throat.

Cursing your head rolls back as he pushes in slowly, rubbing soft circles on your clit. Seungmin stopped all together to let you get used to being drilled by two cocks at the same time. The stretch is big but thanks to Minho prepping you, it doesn’t hurt as much, only you feel slightly uncomfortable by the fullness. Now you feel full, completely stuffed to the brim as the older buries himself inside you till his pubic bone is flush against your cheeks. The two of them groan as they could feel each other through the thin layer of your insides.

How are you still conscious is a mystery but you couldn’t simply let yourself miss the feeling of them finally moving. Seungmin pushes you down on his cock like his own personal fleshlight, Minho snapping himself back into your tight ass creating a mind blowing rhythm. “Wait isn’t this too much for her?” Gasps out your boyfriend, eyes wide set on where you are being stuffed.

“Is it?” Wonders Seungmin, raising your head from his chest to show everyone your tears of pleasure.

“No! Keep going pleaseee–“ They can’t stop when you’re feeling like this but to your delight they could never possibly stop as this is even for them the most pleasure they have ever felt in their life.

Your breath is knock out of you every time either of them buries themselves in to you and you can’t help your hips from bouncing off their cocks. Seungmin lets you move on your own, biting his lip at the way you sigh into his mouth. Minho also is completely mesmerized by your smooth moves, eyes set on the way your ass recoils on him. You have no clue about how much you have them all wrapped around your little finger.

A drool drips down your chin, wetting Seungmin’s shirt and some even lands on his own lips but your mouth doesn’t hang open for to long as he shoves his two fingers into it. Moan vibrates your tongue that is pressed down by his long fingers. You probably look so messy right now but you don’t care at all as the inside of your tummy is basically on fire. You rarely cum without your clit being stimulate, it always feels weird and you were too scared to let go. You whine out, so close to your peak but yearning for the extra touch. Your eyes open, landing on your boyfriend still in the loveseat. “Lixie, I gonna cuuum–“ You sound desperate and he knows by the tone of your voice that you even by being fucked by two men at the same time, you need something on your precious, puffy, little clit

A hand on your hair, tugging you up, makes you squeal. “Don’t look at him, you slut–“

“–look at us when we are gonna make you cum.” Finishes the man under you, his own voice at edge and you could also feel the one behind you shaking in his nearing orgasm.

Fuck, you can’t take this anymore…you’ve become completely dumb on their cocks. “Please!” They don’t ask what to your surprise because they are themselves right at the edge and also they don’t even need to ask because they just know and then a nasty slap lands on your pussy. The sound echoes through the room, ringing in your ears as you finally fall apart.

The first one to cum after you is Minho, already edging himself multiple of times but nobody has to know that. Your tight hole is just as good as your gushing cunt. He cums into you, not even asking for permission because he just knows that’s what you want the most. Soon after that is Seungmin the one cumming, small cry leaving him as his legs slightly shake when he raises his hips into you.

You three stay there, totally spend and you can’t help the drunk, smile falling over your bitten lips. The older pull his softening cock out of you cursing as his release mixes with his friend’s who’s cock hangs down against your pussy. The fingers in your hanging open mouth also leaves you, only to travel down your body to scoop up the mixes of your releases and put them back into your mouth. “We don’t want to waste anything, do we?” He smirks, only to moan with you as you suck on his fingers, making him pull you down to kiss you.

“Holy shit.” Is whispered, your eyes falling to Jeongin who quickly looks away from your sinful state.

The two men push themselves away from you, falling to the floor with their cocks still hanging out. You on the other hand fall face first into the couch, body completely filled with ecstasy. You could feel Minho’s cum falling down to your other hole, squeezing your legs together to possibly safe the already ruined cushion. The one thing which safes the material a little are fingers, the touch making you turn your head.

Your face forms into wanting as you meet Hyunjin’s eyes, painted softly with some eyeliner, making him even more beautiful. His long hair hangs over his eyes, pink, full lips licking away the substance on his fingers. You moan at that, clenching around nothing. The was so erotic, even Han is sighing in delight. “You look so good…” You flush under his burning stare, completely mesmerized by his beauty.

He looks at you like something out off this word, falling to his knees to take your head into his hands. “I wish to paint you like this.” If it’s even possible anymore, you become even more shy under his gaze. “But right now I only want to taste you–“

You gasp again, like the hundredth time in this day. You are suddenly rolled over onto your back, him pulling you down the couch so he could kneel before your cunt. You are surprised by his strength slightly but looking at his arms, you realize where he gets it from. You’re shocked that he wants to eat you out. Guys normally would be disgusted by the sight of someone else’s cum not to mention licking it all up after. Hyunjin however sees something so beautiful about this, you, a symbol of pleasure and being painted by someone’s else immense pleasure that only you are capable of giving.

He looks so pretty, it makes you shy about being so closely inspected by him. His eyes flicker to yours, glancing at you from beneath his eyelashes. He holds the eye contact even when licking a long stripe up your pussy. You are so sensitive there that you feel like you’re cumming again, legs shaking around his head. When you with using all of your last sanity look at others, you moan at their faces of shock and arousal.

You whimper, thinking and now seeing how they are all so comfortable together, it makes you feel safe. Felix is too but you could feel small jealousy radiating from him as he is glaring at his best friend devouring your pussy. The funny thing is that seeing Hyunjin being so invested in your scent, makes him twitch more. You must say you’re impressed that he is still clothed, though both hands squeezing himself to relief some of the tension.

“Come here, Innie–“ Says the long haired man, pulling from you for just a second before pushing his whole nose into you back again. If you thought Han was messy you are now proved wrong. Maybe it is becomes of waiting for so long for his own turn with you but the way you and his friends’ cum taste together makes his cock push painfully against his pants.

Jeongin jumps almost at the sound of his name, wide eyed. You watch him with your hooded eyes how he stands up with a shaky breath, stalking slowly to you. Does he not want you? You think it is perfectly fine if not but you still feel a small stab at your heart. Your hand shoots out to grab Hyunjin’s hair and making your wetness smear all over his face. He only moans in delight at the tug, sucking and slurping you all up.

Frowning, your head rolls to the side where the other sat down. His hands keep playing with the denim on his thighs, face flushed deep red. “What’s wrong?“ You asked quietly, he looks at you, jumping from your voice. You can’t make out his expression clearly but his eyes seem to keep glancing down when suddenly the man under you pulls away.

“Need your fingers–“ Whines out Hyunjin, smacking his lips and licking at them to get every last drop of you.

The words are meant for the quiet guy with ginger hair. He looks spooked slightly at his friend’s request but shuffles down nonetheless. The older of the bunch pulls his own fingers to your cunt but eyes are set dead on his close friend who almost drools at the sight.

“Watch.”

And the younger does exactly that for the first time in the now evening, stares at your body and at Hyunjin’s middle and ringfinger disappearing inside you. You mewl in oversensitivity, putting your manicured nails in your mouth and biting down on them. He moves his fingers slowly but still it is delicious, your stretched out cunt clamping on them as they reach the deepest parts of you. “Juuust like this–“ He exclaims, glancing at you before looking back at Jeongin who watches closely. “You want to make her fall apart, right?”

He at that glances at your face before stopping momentarily on your tits, nodding. He is pulled away from his racing thoughts when his friend grabs his hand. “Your turn…” Jeongin breathes out shakily, nodding away as Hyunjin pulls his hand to your hole.

You are not blind, you obviously have seen how long his fingers are. So slim and pretty, with veins and rings decorating them. When he finally touches you, he can’t help but let his lips part at how soft and wet you are. Circling your entrance, his friend couldn’t take it anymore for both of your sakes, wrapping his hand around his friend’s to make his fingers fill you up. Both of you gasp, you from you much longer they truly are and him at how your gummy walls sucked them right in.

They both let you get used to them before it is again Hyunjin who makes the next move. “Move your fingers like this…that’s right, back and forth–“ You can’t even imagine how long his cock must be when only his fingers are already kissing at your cervix. “–scissor them…” Jeongin’s eyes keep glancing between you and his friend’s fingers who held them up in the air for him to see what to do. He does a good job, he thinks, seeing your hooded eyes as he scissors his long fingers like said. “–to stretch her out….not like she needs it–“ Laughs Hyunjin as you only whimper in embarrassment. “–then you’re gonna curl them–“ A loud moan leaves you as Jeongin’s does that, legs shaking, feet digging into the couch. “…till you find her spot.”

The coppery blonde doesn’t take his eyes from where he is fucking you with his fingers. He hits the gummy spot dead on, pressing into it slightly, the older helping him to move his hand back and forth. “Faster–“ Hyunjin’s gasp mixes with yours, griping his friend’s hand tightly. “–don’t move the tips of your fingers away from the spot.” He orders, the younger one nodding.

Now on his own, he slides closer to you, face almost touching your pussy from how close he is. It makes your stomach flip from the way his big eyes, almost innocently watch how your juices are being pushed back inside of you. “I said faster.” Warns the other, not liking how Jeongin seem to go easy on you.

“I-I don’t want to hurt her…” Finally speaks up the youngest, voice small and fingers momentarily stilling in you.

Hyunjin scoffs. “She literally had two cocks rearranging her guts, there’s no way you could hurt her and she seems to only wait for you to go faster–“ His hand grasps his wrist, hold tight. “–so go fucking faster.” He growls, taking his surprise to pick up the pace of his fingers.

Your right leg falls from the couch, thankfully the older one catching it, wrapping it around his shoulder because you become a moaning mess. You don’t even think Hyunjin is now controlling the movements, his hand loosening around the other’s wrist. Jeongin surprises you by curling his fingers even more, pace so brutally fast that your wetness lands on his black shirt. The painter only gives you more pleasure when his free hand presses onto your lower stomach with a shit eating grin. You can’t help but to glance down at Jeongin who licks his lips at your intoxicating smell, his head on the inside of your thigh, nose almost touching your clit.

You keep gasping for air, feeling too much of everything right now. You don’t know what to do with your trembling body as his pace doesn’t seem to quiver even a little bit. He held his fingers curled, hooking into your spot as he suddenly only pushes there. He doesn’t even move them out of you, pushing nearly painfully into your spot. The palm on your tummy presses down more and you think you could feel the fingers in your throat. “Wait! It feels weird!–“ Something completely new starts to bubble inside you, uncontrollably shaking as you try to keep yourself up.

“Let it happened.”

You can’t fight it, so you do exactly that. For a moment you only see black before a wave of sheer pleasure washes over you that seems unstopping. In horror you watch yourself squirt all over Jeongin’s fingers, face and upper body, soaking even Hyunjin in it. You try to stop but you simply couldn’t. It was too good and you literally had no control over your body. Your juices squirt out of you again, leaking out with the mixed cum that was till now drilled deep inside of you. “Fuck stop!” You scream, tugging at your own hair.

The older has to shove the younger away from your squirting pussy. “Holy fuck, I knew it–“ Says Hyunjin to himself, hand around his friend’s shoulder while looking at your slowly calming down body. Jeongin can’t help but marvel over his own hand, tongue already licking off your wetness from his face. You feel like on cloud nine, you can’t even imagine how that must have looked to them. Crossing your legs, you try to sit up on your elbows.

Felix couldn’t believe what just happened as well as others, the raging jealousy however slowly dies down as he realizes something while you’re tugged down the couch by his best friend. Yes, he is mad that he was not the one to fuck your ass first and also never making you nor seeing you orgasm like that before but can he truly be mad? His friends showed him a new side of you and they only brought you pleasure so far, so there’s that.

“I can’t–“ You gasp, as you are placed between the legs of the sitting singer.

“You know what to say if you need us to stop.” Says Hyunjin into your ear, placing himself behind you. You shut up at that making him chuckle evily. “What a whore, don’t you agree, Jeongin?”

The named boy who has you on your knees before him looks challenged, not knowing what to answer. “Don’t act innocent, Innie–“ Spoke up, Minho, making you turn your head back at him, cooing at Han who is curled up to his side. “–you literally can’t keep your eyes off her tits.“

You tilt your head back up to look at him and to your surprise you do catch him staring at your tits that were still out of your bra, covered in slowly drying cum. “You like her tits, huh?” Says Hyunjin, pulling you back to his chest to give the younger a better look at them. “Can’t say I disagree but I thought you would be more of an ass guy…” Jeongin keeps quiet, eyes going now everywhere but you — oh…he is shy. And his friend is only trying to help him loosen up a little and have some fun.

You’re pulled away from your thoughts as hands grabbed a handful of your breast. The man behind you fondles them, thumbs rubbing at your swollen nipples, making you mewl. Hyunjin smashes them together roughly, his cock already pressed between your ass cheeks. God, he felt long and thick, you can’t wait for him to fuck you. You wonder how did your stamina suddenly become so high but the thought of having the most beautiful people fuck you, kept you going. “Can you imagine fucking them?” He can’t help but groan himself at the lewd words.

Jeongin looks away completely, cheeks flaming red. “You already did…” Hyunjin puts his lips to your ear, hot breath fanning over it, making shivers run down your spine. “What do you think baby, might let his dream come true?” Felix can’t help but gasp at the nickname and you also.

The hands on your beast travel down your waist, fingers pressing into the skin. “But let’s get them nice and wet for him first, yeah?” He turns you quickly around at that and your eyes widened at his exposed chest. When did his shirt come off? You’re definitely not complaining, drooling only at the sight of his happy trail that you have seen too many times by his shirt always riding up when he would dance. It is your weakness.

His lips caught your left nipple, sucking at it roughly, him letting his saliva flow free out of his mouth. His teeth nibble at your areola, making you hiss in pain, him soothing it by his fingers rolling over your other nipple. You gasp at the big purple spot left behind when he pulls away to only suck at the other. He does that couple of times to get your buds nice red and swollen before licking between your tits. Is it really licking? Because he is basically only drooling on your skin. You can’t help but jump as smashes your tits together and only to spit on them. “Fuck, you’re perfect — so fucking perfect.” Hyunjin mumbles, the words running through your whole body. He lets spit drip from his bottom lip, tongue then hanging out and completely covering you in the liquid. You can’t help but look down, whimpering at the blotches, red nipples all glistening and you also realize he slurped all of his friend’s cum off you.

You yelp as he manhandles you, turning you back around, the movements so smooth, your heart skips a beat. “Ask him if he agrees.” You whimper at the rough tug at your nipple, glossy eyes meeting Jeongin’s.

His eyes were dark but still his hands nervously played with his jeans and you couldn’t possible miss the tent in them. “Do you like it?” Hyunjin smacks you across your right ass cheek, telling you to try better. “Do you like my tits, Innie?” Your eyes hazy, looking into his, you suddenly feel something go over you at his all cute state. “I want you to fuck them, Jeongin. Fuck my tits–“ You whimper, your own hands fondling your breast.

You hear a small gasp behind you but your attention is only him as he slowly, barely nods his head. You take that as a sign to unbuckle his jeans but as you almost pull the rough material down, you’re pulled back by your hair, back arching as you feel Hyunjin positioning himself behind you. “Don’t forget about me, now.” He ends his statement by taping his fat tip on your clit. All of this is a dream come true — they are literally all so perfect. You surprise him by pulling him in for a messy kiss, teeth clashing together as he moans at your tongue wrapping around his. His lips were like heaven, so soft and yet sinful.

He puts you back to your place, making your ass flush against his stomach while you come back to your task of removing this offending piece of clothing from Jeongin. His hands grab yours not to stop you but only to help you and you’re happy that he can at least show you just a little that he wants this as much as you. Maybe his heavily rising chest is also a giveaway. Your hips buckle back at the other as he coats his cock in your wetness, your eyes however are at the bare one before you. You thought you might’ve strip him down accidentally of his underwear all together also but oh, he is so dirty for walking around like this — you wonder how his baggy jeans could hide him.

His dick was so fucking pretty. Long and the right girth, clean shaved, tip slightly glistening from the precum and balls heavy, waiting for any sort of relief. Your hands fall to his thighs, squeezing the muscle that jumps as a reaction at your touch. You want him everywhere but now even to you, your breast seems to be the only thing on both of yours minds. You kind of wished for some lube but there’s nothing you couldn’t do with your mouth, making you shuffle to him closer to grab him in your hand.

You went to pump him, only being stop at the feeling of the cock slowly breaching your pussy. You’re thankful for Hyunjin’s thoughtfulness of not going in to hard, giving you space for you to also pleasure his friend. He really doesn’t mind it as he is looking over your shoulder when you pull the tip close to your mouth. Jeongin’s hand flies immediately to his mouth as you take him halfway, keeping your mouth open for the simple reason of completely covering him in your saliva.

Hyunjin circles his hips into you, keeping a slow pace as you drown his friend in your spit. The liquid travels down Jeongin’s balls, him trying so hard to keep quiet at your moments. His hips though hump the air when you suddenly pull your mouth away from him. “Come closer–“ You gasp, grabbing at his legs. He without a second thought, shuffles closer to the edge while you pull your arms up to grab his hips.

That move makes the other go deeper inside of you, momentarily rolling your hips back at him because it was just too good. Hyunjin’s eyes are already at the sight before him, his own hands coming to lay over yours before traveling them to your tits which he pushes up. With a sharp snap of his, your upper body lands on to the lap of the youngest, the dancer pulling your breast at each side of his cock.

You three moan, you putting in your own strength to smash your breast tighter around Jeongin. You don’t even have to move as the oldest basically got a hold of this whole situation by his thrusts. The sounds are even louder and more lewd by it being right under your nose, watching with glassy eyes at the disappearing and appearing tip between your tits. Thank the fuck, Hyunjin is being the one in control because the way his balls slap at every harsher snap of his hips on your clit, makes your whole body become jello. You let your tongue hang out, occasionally the tip flickering over Jeongin, him jumping at the stimulation. He looks like he could cry, biting at his fingers so much they are basically in his mouth, shaking at the way the still tasted and smelled like you.

Hyunjin puts one his hands on you ass cheek, kneading it between his fingers and the other goes to your jaw, tilting your head back. “Look at you…made for all of us to use–“ You moan, clenching around him, making him hiss. “Look at how our Innie’s enjoying it.” He whispers in your ear, tilting your head back to look at his friend. “He definitely is thinking about your sweet little pussy—how you feel, fuuuuck–“ Whimpering, you glance at him, faces so close you could see the little mole under his eye. “Our sweet, little Innie might not seem like it but he’s the nasty type.” Hyunjin’s thrusts become faster, deeper, the more he speaks. “So fucking nasty—he likes it nasty and wet…let’s make it wet for him, y-yeah?”

You nod, eyes rolling back inside your head as you squeeze your hands tighter. Your own hips start to meet Hyunjin’s trusts, him now completely at your mercy as he nears his end. The hand on your waist pinches you, loud whimper falling from him, legs shaking behind yours as he stuffs you full with his load. A small sighs fly out of him, completely different from what you have heard before, wondering if you could make him release these kinds of noises more often in the possible future.

Pulling out of you, he smacks your ass quickly, encouraging you to hop to your feet and only to land on his friend’s lap. Jeongin looks a little spooked out from the quick series of events, only now seeing the mischief in both of yours eyes. He can’t help but to sigh out at the sight of you on his lap, tits at the level of his eyes. He can’t believe he got to fuck them, a little sad that it stopped right as he was almost at his own peak but nonetheless excited to have more from you.

Your cunt to be exact. Your hips raise to grab his cock, siting down on it so none of the fresh cum could go to waste. Kind of a bad idea as your hips slightly jump back up as he only hits your cervix painfully. You whimper quietly into his shoulder as he sat there under you with mouth hanged open and head over the couch. You bounce slowly on top of him first, just the half of him before you could finally take him whole.

Behind your fucked out state, you frown at the way he is trying so hard to keep quiet. It looked like it hurt, his eyebrows pulled together at the deep concentration of not making a sound. You grasp his hands which till now layed alone by his side, putting them on your tits. That did it for him, finally looking at you. You don’t even think he is realizing that the way he is looking at you makes you all giddy inside. He is staring at your breast like they are the best thing he has ever seen, drooling in his head at the way they look in his own hands.

He cups the underside of your boobs, keeping them freely bouncing in the air from your moves. Moaning you just have to lift the bottom of his shirt slightly to have a look at his lean, toned body. Finally he is seeing how much he makes you feel, making him feel better about his image. But he can’t never tell anyone about the small crush he has on you…

“Y/N…” He calls out to you.

You gasp at the sound of your name falling from his lips. “Innie…” He whimpers, the noise leaving him on accident but you only quicken your movements. That makes him moan more and more before he has to pull your lips to his to silence them as he surprises you by cumming inside of you. His grip is strong, nearly painful but completely unseen as you stare wide eyed at the boy under you, crying at the feeling of your walls milking him dry.

“I’m sorry–“ He mumbles into your hair, cringing at the way his cum leaks out of you and down to his balls.

“Don’t say that I fucking love it.” You say, making him look at you in amazement. He kisses you softly at your words, a small smile falling over his lips and you can’t help but do the same.

You basically had to fight Jeongin to pull out of you. You could already feel his soft cock, hardening again and as much as you would like to give him another go there is still one left…fuck. Maybe you should’ve let the boy cockwarm you because the piercing and intimidating stare makes you want to curl up into a ball. You lay on the couch on your side, eyes skimming the men that already had their go and also your boyfriend, sitting there with glassy eyes of complete arousal, before they stop at the leader. Menspreading into those tight, black jeans of his is making you physical shudder, licking your lips at his toned chest peaking from the sides of his tank top. It should be illegal to look this good while simply sitting. Was your brain completely fucked out of you?

“Do you still want me?” He asks, looking down at your body. “Don’t want to hurt you, doll–“ He is asking for permission, yes but why does he have to use such nickname, it only makes you want him more, dodging his question completely.

Of course you do, such a stupid question. He sits there waiting for your answer, not trusting himself by going closer to you. You are too pretty for your own good and the beautifully ruined state you’re in makes him absolutely feral. He always thought that it was wrong to even have a small thought about how you looked while getting fucked by Felix. That guy was so fucking lucky and he has to wonder how he bagged you because he would always say some ridiculously awkward pick up lines. Pick up lines he, the leader, gave him but he maybe is forgetting about how dominanting you can get. You just liked being used and pillow princess was sometimes too big of a fun. You can handle way more than you look and you already proved it to him tonight, he just wants to hear it from your own lips.

“I do, please Channie–“ You say, hands gripping the couch. “–come closer.”

He has to calm himself down a little at your sultry voice, not wanting to look like an idiotic schoolboy around his friends. He slowly stands up, jeans wrapping around the obvious bulge in them and stalking to you with hard stare. You would really like to say you’re switch but something about his whole aura makes you feel small and fragile. As Chan stands before you, towering over your quivering body, your eyes drift back to his crotch. Even from the material blocking your view you know he’s huge and you wonder how he could hide it in those tight jeans.

He makes you almost purr as he brushed his fingers through your hair softly, untangling the strands. “Get on my lap…” Your heart skips a beat as he sits down at the corner of the couch. You sit up to climb into his inviting lap but you’re stop with a hand in the air. “Back facing me.” You bit your lip at that.

Turning around you shuffle teasingly back onto his lap as he places his legs on the couch. You cage his legs with your knees, sitting down, your ass right at his bulge. You gasp at the feeling of the rough material grazing over you, pushing yourself down on it, rolling your ass back at him. He stops your movements with his strong grip at your ass. “Who said you could do that?”

You stay silent, frozen. You didn’t expect the nasty smack on your ass. “Ah! I-I am sor-ry?” You say back as another one lands, even harder than the first one.

His hand massages the red skin, marveling over your body. “Good girl.” Chan murmures back at you, showing you that’s exactly what he wanted to hear. “You want my cock, princess?” You nod, slightly ashamed at feeling your pussy dripping, soaking him.

Smack!

“Yes! I want your c-cock…” You clench over nothing, buckling your hips against him. He groans at your words, fingers tapping at your skin to gesture for you to slightly lift yourself up so he could finally release himself.

The thing you feel next makes you shiver. His cock smacks free over your pussy and your eyes can’t help but widen at the heaviness of it. You glance back, mouth open as you look at his massive cock. You don’t think he can possibly fit…The man could see the nerves all over your face, his own slightly red in embarrassment. He takes your expression as a good one but he is also slightly nervous while staring down where you two are the closest.

His cock is hovering over your cunt and both of you could see how deep it will go inside you. You nod your head back at him, giving a sign to go in. Backing up, you in experiment grind down on it, both of you moaning at the feeling. The prominent vein that leads to his mushroom tip, bumbs into your clit. “Fuck, gonna ride me? Gonna ride this cock, babygirl, you’re so fucking soft–“ Chan grabs the base of his cock, helping you sit up.

You cry out at just his tip, pussy lips swallowing it eagerly. He was so fucking thick—you realize that Jeongin was only preparing you for the bigger deal but it still stretched you out. “There, there I know–I knoooow–“ Hissing at the way you clench down at just his tip, he gives you some time to get used to him.

It didn’t take that long, maybe because you are simply too hungry for him. Carefully you move up and down his tip, each move making him go deeper into you. “You’re so big–“ You whimper, your hands on his knees balancing you tremble.

“Taking me so good…look at that–“ The leader says to himself mostly, eyes barely open but still plastered on the way you swallow him more and more.

You fall over slightly when you finally sit down on his cock. You could feel him poking your tummy, the tension on your cervix deliciously painful. You both try to catch your breath from your walls squeezing down on him, staying there panting in this position for some time. Chan was always so sweet and shy when you would give him a compliment, blushing furiously while he could literally at the same time split you in half with his cock. It made you so mad for some reason so you — oh, you will give it to him good. Or will he?

You do surprise him by immediately pushing your hips up and then back down hard on him. He puffs out air, hands flying to hold your hips. He just leaves them there, too occupied of looking at your jiggling skin and your hole swallowing him. You don’t even know what kind of sounds you are making, the only thing on your mind is him. He can’t help but wonder of the fuck Jeongin didn’t cum immediately from your smooth moves. You were literally made for riding cock. He needed this so fucking bad, the stress of the new comeback basically controlling his whole body is now gone, out of the window. It also was so long since he got such a good pussy like yours, or any at that factor.

He almost forgot about his plan, laying there completely at your mercy. Chan’s mind then fills with imagines of maybe other positions he would like to see you in. So many and he almost cries at the thought of not trying at least one of them. He hopes this really isn’t the last time to get you like this. He in fact enjoys seeing his band members finally loosing up and you don’t seem to be displeasured by being used like a fuckdoll. His imagines the way he would fuck you into the couch, leaving you completely dumb and he just had to sit up, cock still in you and press your face into the cushion.

A long whine leaves you as he presses your face down, holding your hips with his other hand and drilling roughly into you. You sob at the feeling of him in your stomach, he immediately pulling your head to the side. “Col-“

“Green! Fucking green!” You scream, shaking at his thrusts. Looking back at him with your glassy eyes you even make him go harder. “Please…” You say quietly. “Please-“

He leans over you, chest against your back. “What was that?” There was a small cocky tone in his voice.

“Please, make me cum–“ You are already so close but you still need the extra push, even if you are basically gasping for air. “…please, daddy, make me cum.”

“Fuck me…”

He groans, hips jumping at that. He doesn’t miss the lazy smile on your lips that is wiped off by his palm on your clit. “Fucking cum–soak daddy’s cock, baby girl–“ You sob, tears falling down your face when he suddenly moves his palm from side to side, roughly bumping on to your clit.

You don’t even make a sound, mouth hanging open as you squirt all over his cock. He doesn’t stop, only fucking you through it and making a complete mess out of you, just like he wanted. “Just a little longer, baby girl…” You try to keep yourself up but only failing at the rough thrusts, falling face first into headrest of the couch. He pulls his hand away from you but as he is still drilling himself into you, it feels like a never ending orgasm.

Suddenly you feel hand caressing your cheek, eyes glassy, you look up only coming face to face with your boyfriend. You two share a look, emotions swirling in your eyes but then the leader pull you two out of it by surprising you with wrapping his hand around your throat, making you tilt your head back, seeing him upside down. “Chan, I think it’s already too much for her��“ The next thing that the named man does will be forever printed in your mind.

Chan doesn’t let Felix finish his words, scooping up your juices with his fingers before shoving them into your boyfriend’s mouth. The blonde moans around his friend’s fingers in complete shock, finally getting his well deserved taste of you. You gasp, choking around the hand blocking your airways. When Felix sucks down on his fingers that does it for Chan. With last snap of his hips he fills you up to the brim, sighing, groaning, almost hiccuping at the feeling.

He pulls his hand away from your throat only to pull you up to smash your lips to his. “Fuck. you’re amazing…” You whine into him as it only makes him go deeper into you. Your boyfriend pulls his friend’s fingers out of his mouth slowly, looking at the sight before with big eyes.

The leader slowly realizes the glances you keep stealing at your boyfriend while caressing your body softly, giving you a one last kiss before pushing you up to pull his cock out of you. You whimper at the lost of contact and at the cum falling onto the couch, you definitely need a new one.

Felix is there to caught you in his arms, before you could fall over, slowly lowering your body to lay down. “You did so good, I’m so so so lucky to have you…” He says to you sweetly, you smiling in return but your eyes can’t help but to travel to the obvious stain at his sweatpants.

You look at him with a small teasing smile, him laughing sheepishly before pressing a kiss to your lips. “I love you.” He whispers to you and you feel like crying of joy at his words, emotions all over the place.

“I love you too.” You croak out, leaning into his touch, completely exhausted.

He immediately rubs at your shoulder, warming up your cold skin, body wet from a mix of spit and cum, making you shiver. “Let me clean you up.” Felix says, before hearing his friends’ shuffling behind him.

“We can do that…” Minho says, looking down at you two and your lovesick faces. His eyes travel down the blonde’s body, nodding. “–while you clean yourself up…or do you also want help with that?”

Your boyfriend rolls his eyes at that remark, wanting nothing more than to wipe his friend’s smirk off his face. His cheeks are on fire but he probably should get clean first before taking care of you because you will need more that.

That statement stays. All of them took their own turn of wiping any residue of what happened off you and out of you. They even dressed you in some more comfortable clothes, your brand new babydoll basically needing bleach and your panties mysteriously went missing. You were taken care of, cleaned up, dressed and even fed with food because you were too tired to that on your own. You don’t even know how you end up falling asleep mid bite of the takeout you all ordered but you know you were laying on your boyfriend’s chest while some of his friends layed next to you, cuddling you, the ones who didn’t have any place left for them to do that at least touching you in some sort of way, completely drowning you in their warmness and kindness.

Everything made you closer to them. In some way or another, heightening your friendship into something more stronger and intimate. But you still couldn’t help but wonder…was it really your boyfriend’s birthday or yours after all?

#lee felix x reader #lee felix smut #lee know x reader #felix smut #skz felix #felix x reader #bangchan x reader #changbin x reader #han jisung x reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #i.n x reader #seungmin x reader #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x you #straykids x reader #stray kids smut #stray kids fanfic #lee felix

[ur-mousey]

Elevator Sex ~

Yandere! Landlord! Geto Suguru x F!Reader

summary Landlord Geto fucks you in the elevator. You will learn your place. 1.1k warning mature, smut, cheating?, voyeurism, non-con.

..............................

Geto Suguru spent many nights in the room over from yours. It was the closest seat in the complex to your strip tease. He hated that you started to refuse him small talk, to your gracious landlord, who built his schedule around your comings and goings. You should be cordial, to say the least. Each morning, he would remind you to double-check your person. You tended to be forgetful. Stupid poor thing, you were. When you first arrived, you were prone to call up at noon to have him search for your room key. Geto didn't mind. He felt less perverted in those times you begged him to check on things. He'd chalked it up to you flirting, especially when your used underwear found home in his pocket. And, every time you said it would be the last, yet, you would do it again. You had a knack for leaving important things behind just like you were doing him. For weeks, he would wave in the foyer after you got back from work, ushering you to converse with him. 

However, every single time, you would squirm into the comfort of your apartment. He'd even had to drill a hole through your wall to make up for you ignoring him. He assumed you felt guilt.

It was your fault that he had to refuse another tenant from moving next door. It was your fault he took the listing offline. He was losing money. But, watching your tits hang while you changed from your work clothes gave him much fapping material. The walls being thin allowed your voice to fall into his lap. When he caught you gurgling on that man's cock, he imagined your hollow cheeks milking him.

You would look so pretty, sopping on the floor, your silk ruining the carpets which he'll lick up after he wears you to sleep. And, he'd felt more than knew, that he would be enamored by your worship of his cock that he'll press you into a mating lock.

He wanted to see you bound to him through the most intimate action of man. Your precious pussy needed to pulse around his shaft. 

You needed to learn your place. 

Mediocre sex with your boyfriend pained him when he thought too much of it. He would rather watch your toys vibrate your blushing lips despite your stifling moans. That boyfriend of yours was arrogant. He left you without building your orgasm to its head. It felt pathetic. 

Your landlord decided it was time to get involved.

>>>

"I'll see you later tonight," Your boyfriend cooed. He dipped his head to catch your lips in a soft kiss. You sighed and rolled your eyes before softly reciprocating. He stroked his thumb over your cheek. 

You lifted your coffee to your lips, needing the caffeine to silence your budding words. Your boyfriend brought you out on your day off to get breakfast. While seated in the French-styled cafe, Naofumi explained his new promotion. You were excited for him. This new change meant an upgrade from his shitty apartment to a new one. However, it didn't mean you were in his plans. You've dated since high school. Took the entrance exams side by side, graduated college together, and now, you're here.

The changes don't seem noticeable until you read between the lines. He used to include 'we' in sentences, now it's 'I' this, 'me' that.

Now, as Naofumi gave one final squeeze to your hand, the only thing you could think of was your landlord, who was staring bullets at you through the glass doors. You were somewhat aware of his crush.

Like a puppy, he waited in the foyer for your return. 

"Welcome back," Geto Suguru lifted his chin. He stood in your path to the elevators, strong biceps pushed his plush tits to your attention.

You felt intimidated to give him more than a passing bow. You looked down at your shoes. The pressure of his gaze made you wonder what it would be like to take a chance with him. But, you did love Naofumi.

You tried to sidestep Geto. You failed to meet his gaze and you kept your head down. You clutched your purse to your chest.

"Take me to your unit." Geto commanded to your discomfort. Other tenants who were leaving the complex regarded his hulking frame. And they'd probably wondered what had you in his bad graces.

"Excuse me?" You stuttered, taking a step back.

Geto slipped behind your frame, he gently shoved you forward. His natural musk caused your nose to wrinkle. The blood rushed down to his shaft, his cock sprang into action in his sweats. "A few of the units been experiencing plumbing problems. There, I need to check yours."

Bullshit!

You lived on the tenth floor and you were prepared for the awkward ride up. Geto hit your floor button. The elevator began its climb from the first level to the third but between the fourth and fifth floor, Geto punched the control panel and the elevator came to a stop.

You laughed through your teeth, "Geto-san? What are you doing?"

"If you want to continue living here. There are some rules you need to follow~" Geto leaned his back against the door. He blocked your only means of escape.

"One, break up with your boyfriend. He's not allowed to step a foot in here or I might rip him apart. Hearing him fuck you… I can't anymore." You felt the onslaught of an up-and-coming panic attack. Did he listen to your sex life? Your legs squeezed tight together. "Second, you will quit your job. It's too deep into the city for me to ensure your safety.

"Geto-san…" You whined through a fit. You threw your cup filled with lukewarm coffee as if it could replicate an impenetrable fort. You felt like a child as you stomped and pleaded for the man to let you go.

You wished at this moment that you had something. Pepper spray or a switchblade. Anything that could get you elsewhere. Geto solemnly moved, he allowed your tantrum to fizzle out. He then stepped over the mess. "Last rule. From now until you die, we're partners. So start calling me by my name. Su-gu-ru."

>>>

Your head lulled to the side, you felt weighted down by the copious amounts of coffee and cum that your hair soaked up like a mop.

Hair clung to your body. You couldn't tell which of it were yours or his. Time didn't exist but you counted the number of times you tensed up around his thick cock. "Su-uh," The moans were knocked from within your chest, it bubbled at each hit to your cervix. Geto's hips shuttered against your weeping pussy. "I- I'll do it! Please stop."

You tried screaming earlier and it got your panties shoved into your mouth. You were at your breaking point. You would do anything to get him off of you. "I'll be your dirty little slut! Su, please finish!"

Your chest heaved forward when Geto pushed his palm down onto the base of your belly. He edged himself against your inner walls. The ends of his charcoal hair teased your clit, along with his thumb which thrummed heavenly on your nerve, and it ghosted along your thighs to the rhythm of his pumps. "I'll follow your rules. I won't talk to Nao anymore," You rambled back his earlier demands. You promised him through another fit of throwing arms and legs that you'll be perfect.

His perfect cockwarmer.

"He, eh, said that he would come later tonight." You whimpered out from between your lips that you bit carelessly. "Suguru, you can be there when I- break things off. Then I can call my boss and put in my 2-week notice. You'll have all of me!" You huffed. Geto embraced your cunt lapping at the tip of his cock. Even if he tried to pull out now, your pretty little pussy sucked him in deep.

.............................. Thank you for reading! I had something different planned but I haven’t finished writing it but I wanted to update. Please leave ideas in the comments! Request rules are here! >>> NEXT JJK POST: Yandere! God! Sukuna x Disciple! F!Reader! prt 2. You can read prt 1 here.

#smut fic #jjk smut #jjk fanfic #jjk geto #geto suguru #geto x reader #female reader #yandere #male yandere x reader #yandere geto #yandere jjk #tw noncon #jujutsu kaisen

[kurogane2512]

HI KURO I LOVE YOUR WORKS SM CAN YOU PLEASE WRITE CHIORI AND G!P READER WHERE READER FUCKS THE HELL OUT OF CHIORI AFTER BEING PENT UP FOR SO LONG 😓😓

In celebration of Chiori's release, here you go!

18+ CONTENT

Game: Genshin Impact

Characters: Chiori x g!p reader

Type: Smut (blowjob, table sex, creampie)

It was a pleasant evening when you went to Chiori's boutique to ask for a new set of formal clothes as you were to attend a gathering at your workplace in a week. You didn't expect the shop to be so filled to the brim even at this hour, but you knew it couldn't be helped.

"Welcome to Chioriya Boutique. How may I help you?" Chiori's assistant greeted you at the entrance, you glanced around and saw Chiori attending to a customer hence decided to wait for her. Chiori also saw you walk in but paid no heed and focused on her work at hand, that's just how she was and you had problems. You sat in the waiting area and watched her diligently work with the customers around her, admiring her style and ethics.

You didn't expect her to tend to you first just because you were her partner; and frankly, you preferred to be tended later when there were less people around. Hours passed as you sat and waited, occassionally helping yourself to some tea and snacks and reading some magazines. You realized you were the last in line since nobody else came in after you and Chiori was still quite busy with others.

At last, Chiori was finally free to tend to you but to her surprise, you had fallen asleep on the couch while waiting for her. Her expression remained steeled but she felt slightly guilty inside for making you wait so long, it was perhaps due to the fact that she knew you won't force yourself in the middle that she rested easy and decided to come to you last.

She sent her assistants home for the day and closed the blinders of the shop then walked up to you and extended her hands towards your face to cup it but quickly retracted it and cleared her throat.

"Y/n, wake up. It's your turn now."

Her sharp voice rang through your ears and you jolted awake to see her standing in front of you with her arms crossed over chest. You hurriedly stood up but looked around to see the shop was empty and she had pulled out the blinders in the front, finally realizing it was quite late.

"A-Ah, I'm sorry. It seems you are closing up now, I'll come tomorrow morning."

Chiori stared at you with her usual straightforward expression then held your wrist and pulled you towards her work table before grabbing her tools.

"Don't waste time. What clothes do you want?"

"Um... I wanted a formal suit for a workplace gathering, something elegant and simple but enough as a party wear, if that makes sense."

Chiori nodded and took out a few fabric pieces to make you choose, you hesitantly went over the choices then finally picked one of them and she grabbed her measuring tape then came in front of you.

"W-Wait, don't you already have my measurements....?"

"Hmph, and what if you have changed in some areas? The measurements are almost 4 months old now, and with your eating habits I'm certain you have lost a few inches here and there."

"H-Hey, don't put it so bluntly. I try to eat well now..." you spoke in an embarrassed tone and looked away. Chiori smiled to herself for a moment then donned her usual expression and began taking your measurements.

"Hmm... I knew it, your shoulders are thinner by 3 cm.... and your waist by 8 cm... Seriously, what are you even eating?"

Chiori mumbled as she went all around your upper body then kneeled down in front to take measurements for your pants. You blushed all of a sudden looking at her in such a tempting position and felt your cock twitch in your pants, hoping she would be done soon and doesn't notice. Chiori then placed the tape on your pants' button and aligned it till your crotch point, noticing a small bulge as soon as she pressed the tape on it.

Chiori grinned and pressed the tape once again, earning a startled gasp from you. "Hmm, seems one part of you has grown at the very least. Looks like all that you are eating is going here~"

Chiori teased while palming your crotch, vibrations going up your body. She then zipped down your flyer and fished out your semi-erect cock, pumping it slowly and languidly.

"Ngh~ C-Chiori...."

"....I'll make it up to you for the wait." Chiori whispered then kissed your tip, your face becoming flushed at her actions.

"But first, take off your clothes. I don't want any fabrics getting dirty."

You couldn't do anything but comply, you swiftly pulled off your shirt and pants then stood in front of her and watched her pull down her kimono followed by her tights, keeping her underwear on. She dropped to her knees again and began pumping your cock like before, the length fully erect now. She placed her lips around the head and swiped her tongue over the slit, sucking and licking your cock.

Your groaned and gently held her head to stabilise yourself, she began bobbing her head up and down your length now. You thrusted your hips into her with a rhythmic motion, your tip brushing the back of her throat every time. Her hands massaged your balls and pumped your base as she continued bobbing her head, you sighed at the feeling of her warm and wet tongue slurping along that one vein and the way her cheeks hollowed as she sucked.

"Gah—! Chiori! T-Too fast—!~"

"I have to... close the shop soon.... hurry up and cum." Chiori moaned around your length, sending shivers down your body and you gripped her hair tighter.

Chiori eagerly bobbed her head and sucked your cock as if she was starved, perhaps she really felt bad for making you wait this long, or perhaps she simply wanted this so much. Your cock twitched as you formed a perfect rhythm with your thrusts, lightly gripping her hair and pulling her closer to plunge deeper.

"I'm close....nggh~" you moaned and Chiori hummed then swallowed your cock entirely, your eyes rolling to your skull as you instantly released inside her. Your hips jerked forward and you pulled her mouth flush against your abdomen, sending small thrusts inside her as you spurted your load. Chiori barely managed to swallow all your load, some drops dripping down her chin onto her breasts that she scooped up and licked.

"How messy. Good thing we removed our clothes." Chiori teased with a grin as she stood up and you suddenly pushed her to the table before turning her around and bending her body on it. Chiori gasped in surprise then moaned feeling your throbbing cockhead rub against her own drenched folds.

"Hmm.... you are slow, Y/n. Put it in already."

"I'm slow? Did you forget you are the one who made me wait for hours?~" you husked in her ear and licked the shell, your body resting on her back as you continued grinding your cock between her thighs.

"H-Hmph! Don't consider yourself special just cause you are my girlfriend—!"

"Oh, but I do. After all, you wouldn't accept this payment method from anyone else, right?~"

"Heh, do you want to be thrown out of my shop?~"

"Oh, try me~"

You immediately sheathed inside her in a swift motion, a loud gasp leaving her mouth as her body arched off the table. Your groaned at her tightness, her walls clenching you so well. You rutted into her in slow and shallow thrusts at first, making her more restless as she chased her release.

"I told you to get on with it! It's already so late—Mhm!~"

You suddenly slammed deep inside, prodding her sensitive spot. You then continued hammering against that same spot with a fast pace, your thighs slapping against her ass eliciting erotic noises in the shop. It was a good thing she put the blinders on the window, otherwise the Thundering Seamstress' dignity would be in trouble. You pounded at an animalistic pace, her body arching into you with each thrust and a moan filling your ears.

"Gonna cum again... damn, you are so tight for me, Chiori~"

"Mhmmm.... s-stop talking.... just fuck me....!~"

"My, such crude language is unbecoming of you, Ms Chiori~"

You smiked and pushed her further down by her lower back, making a beautiful arch of her body. You gripped her hips and drilled forward, your thick cock splitting her open. Her mind was hazy fron the stimulations, and soon after she felt a surge of hot and gooey liquid filling her up. She moaned as her walls clenched your cock and she released too, a ring of cum forming at the base of your cock.

You pulled out and watched some of the cum drip down her folds while she laid panting atop the table. You turned her around and held her up in your arms, her hands wrapping around your neck and legs around your waist. You kissed her deeply and passionately, then carried her to the couch and plunged your cock inside her again.

"H-Hey! Let's go home and— aaah!~"

"No, we do it right here. You made me wait for so long, you have to compensate me right~"

#genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin impact #genshin women #genshin x reader #chiori #chiori x reader #g!p reader

[unfinishedslurs]

matchmaking gone wrong (steddie)

“So,” Murray says, smarmy little smirk in place. Steve kind of hates him. “How long have you two been dancing around each other?”

“What?”

“What?”

“Oh, come on, now,” he says. “Everyone can see it. Or, well, maybe they can’t, but I can. Small town boys, both fighting against the odds. Alternate dimensions bring people together in the strangest ways, don’t they?”

“Hey, now,” Steve objects, shooting a panicked glance next to him. Eddie hasn’t moved a muscle since Murray opened his big mouth. His pose reminds Steve of a frightened rabbit, frozen in the eye of a snake. 

“Hey, now,” Murray mimics. “Real eloquent, Steve.” He says Steve like he’s saying something else. If he’s not careful, Steve is going to punch his fucking teeth in.“I gotta say, when I met you, you managed to take me by surprise. I really thought you were gonna be different. Small town rich boy, right? Big house, no parents, thought I knew the type. But you’ve managed to turn it on its head, haven’t you? Still, you’re lonely. Must be nice, having all those kids in your house. Less empty with them around. And Eddie here, too. I bet it’s real nice with him around.”

“Dude,” Steve says, prickling. He doesn’t know what eloquent means, or what that has to do with anything, but he really does not like what this guy is putting down. What business does this washed up mess of a conspiracy theorist have digging into Steve’s personal life? He chances another look at Eddie, who has unfrozen in favor of straightening up and glaring at Murray. 

“What the fuck do you know?” he spits, vicious in the way he only ever is when he’s defending someone. Steve is touched, really. 

“I know a lot,” Murray says, smile growing ever wider. “Like that you sleep in his bed, even though there’s…what, three perfectly good guest rooms here?”

“Two,” Steve corrects automatically. “The other one is Max’s.” Unofficially, of course, but she sleeps here enough that everyone else knows she’s claimed it. Technically it’s one and a half, given that Dustin is slowly taking over the one next to hers, but Ms. Henderson is actually responsible so he only stays the night occasionally. Robin just sleeps in Steve’s bed with them.

He realizes his mistake when Murray’s smile grows even wider. “Two!” He exclaims. “Two guest bedrooms, and yet you sleep in his bed, wake up next to him, end up with his pillow lines on your face. I bet it’s nice, huh? To have him soothe your nightmares, to fall asleep knowing he’s there. We like Steve, indeed. How could a man possibly resist? Tell me, Eddie, is that handkerchief in your pocket just for show? I’d have thought masochism was more your style.”

“Hey!” Steve barks. Eddie jumps next to him, and Steve puts his hand over his unthinkingly. Murray’s eyes track the movement, but Steve speaks before he can open his mouth. 

“Not cool, man,” he says firmly. Eddie’s hand is trembling under his, and Steve thinks that Murray is lucky that he cares more about comforting Eddie than he does about punching the smug look off his fucking face. 

“What’s not cool?” Murray asks. “Telling you two to get your shit together, for the betterment of us all?”

“You barely fucking know us,” Steve snaps. “There’s no ‘betterment of us all,’ Jesus. You can’t just…you can’t…” he lowers his voice, like he can protect Eddie from hearing it if he tries hard enough. “You can’t just out people, man. You should fucking know better.”

Eddie’s frozen again. Steve doesn’t look at him, instead staring Murray down like a challenge. The man does lose steam with that, wilting like a weed in the heat. “Ah,” he says. “I…ah, hell, I thought you knew.”

“What I know doesn’t mean shit if he’s not the one who told me,” Steve says. Eddie makes a sound, slowly sliding his hand out from under Steve’s. Steve lets him, resisting the urge to grab it back. He knows Eddie won’t run away from him, even if he wants to. “And what if you’d been wrong about me being cool, huh? Seriously man, aren’t you supposed to be smart or something? Act like it.”

Murray opens his mouth again, but Eddie interjects. “As fascinating and eye opening as this has been,” he says, clapping his shaking hands together, “I need to be gone, like, before this conversation ever happened. I appreciate your attempt to get me into golden boy’s pants over here, really, but, uh, yeah. I think the whole being straight thing kind of puts a damper on that, don’t you?”

“You’re straight?” Steve blurts out, hurt and embarrassed all at once. Well, shit, there goes whatever Steve thought they were hurtling towards. And after Steve just confessed he thought Eddie was gay. Is that discrimination? He’s going to kill Robin, dammit, she’s the one who pointed out Eddie’s hanky in the first place. 

“What?” Eddie asks. “No, you are.”

“I am?”

“Yes!”

“Uh,” Steve says, extremely confused. Is Eddie coming out as straight for him? He’s pretty sure this is supposed to go, like, the opposite way. “Since when?”

“Since—“ Eddie’s mouth drops open. “I thought since always, Harrington, what the fuck?” 

“Me what the fuck?” Steve sputters. “You what the fuck! You thought I was straight?”

“Of course I did!” Eddie throws his hands up. “You’re, like, the epitome of straight jock!”

“Oh, yeah,” Steve says. “Because my painted nails and affinity for sucking cock scream heterosexual man.”

Affinity might be a stretch given that he’s only ever sucked one dick in his entire life, but hey, a little embellishment never hurts. He wasn’t awful at it. The painted nails weren’t actually his choice, either, thanks to El’s killer puppy eyes, but still. He’s been blatantly flirting with Eddie for months now. Would it kill him to notice?

Eddie doesn’t seem to have a response for this, mouth opening and closing without sound. 

“Well,” Murray says at last. Steve and Eddie both jump, having completely forgotten about him. “I guess you needed my help after all.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Steve says, rounding on him. “I don’t need your help for jack-fucking-shit, alright? I am a grown-ass man. I am not repressed, I am not in denial, and I am not thanking you for this. You messed up my plan!”

“Your plan?” Eddie asks. 

“Your plan,” Murray repeats, amused. 

“Yes, my plan,” he hisses. “You’re not smarter than everyone else just because you don’t like the government, asshole. None of us like the fucking government, we’re just not about to go off the rails and become total shut-ins about it. We fucking get it, you’re lonely and have no friends. We don’t need you to tell us our own business for us, okay? You want to talk about getting help? Go to a fucking AA meeting and leave us alone.”

The skin around Murray’s eyes tightens. Steve might feel bad, if it weren’t for the fact that he’d fucking outed Eddie. Mistake or not, it doesn’t matter that Steve already knew if Eddie wasn’t ready to fucking tell him. 

Eddie’s hand on his arm stops him from saying much worse. 

He doesn’t turn around, just stares Murray down like a warning. Murray looks back at him, seemingly unimpressed, but Steve can see shame in the line of his shoulders. There’s apology in his eyes when he breaks Steve’s gaze to glance at Eddie. 

He’s not a bad guy, Steve knows. Joyce tells them fondly about how he helped her and Hopper get their shit together. How they’d both be Russian chow ten times over if it wasn’t for him. Nancy, too, has some good things to say about the guy. He was the one who helped her get word out about Barb’s death. He helped her get with Jonathan too, even if that didn’t exactly work out. 

And it’s not like he blames Murray for Nancy cheating on him. She’s her own person, and makes her own decisions, even if they’re shitty, hurtful ones that he’s still not sure he’ll ever fully get over. 

Jonathan said it best, once. He’s weird, and nosy, and annoying, and I don’t really like him. But I think he really just wants to help, in any way he can. Plus he’s a really good cook. 

Steve breaks.

“Just get out of my house, man,” he says, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Joyce will be happy to host you for the night, they’ve got a spare room there. Tell her my house was too ‘rich kid’ for you, or something. But you’re not staying here anymore.”

Murray nods, accepting this at face value. He gets up from the table, pausing to snag the vodka. “For what it’s worth, I am sorry,” he offers, and disappears before either of them can reply. 

“So,” Eddie says, after a considerable length of silence. His voice shakes slightly. “That was, uh, enlightening.” 

He huffs a tired laugh. “That’s one word for it,” he says, finally turning to look Eddie in the eye. He’s shifty, eyes flitting around the room, hands playing out guitar chords against the counter. Steve takes one in hand. 

Eddie stills, finally looking at his face. Steve won’t force eye contact, but he needs to know Eddie’s focusing on him and not whatever shitty thoughts are flying across his mind.

“I’m sorry,” he offers quietly. “I didn’t know he’d try that shit with us, when I told Hopper he could stay here.”

Eddie resumes his finger chords. “It’s not your fault he’s an asshole.”

“I know,” he says. “Still, that wasn’t how I wanted this to go.”

“Go? ‘Go’ what? What’s going?”

Steve shuts his eyes. “Us. I wasn’t going to say anything yet. Not until after you told me you were…”

“Oh,” Eddie says quietly. “Right.”

“Yeah.”

“I can get out of your hair, man, if it makes you uncomfortable.” 

“What?” Steve‘s eyes fly open. “No! I’m not kicking you out, what the fuck?”

“You’re not?”

“Literally what part of that conversation made you think that’s where this was headed?” He demands. 

“I dunno, man,” Eddie confesses. “Good things don’t really happen to people like me.”

“And I’m a good thing?” Steve tries to joke, raising an eyebrow. 

Eddie doesn’t take the bait, just briefly meets Steve’s eyes and lowers his voice. “Steve, you’re, uh. You’re kind of one of the best things to ever happen to me.”

“Oh,” falls weakly from his lips. 

“Shit, was that too much? That was totally too much, sorry, I’m not good at this. You can totally kick me out now, fuck, that’s so embarrassing—“

Steve kisses him. 

“Honestly, I’m not that worried about it,” Eddie says, laying with his feet on Steve’s pillow and head hanging off the bed. 

“Really?”

“I mean, like, it was a dick thing to do, but what’s he gonna do? Tell the whole town? They all know about me anyway.”

Steve kind of shrugs at this, because as much as he wishes it weren’t true he’s right. He’s walked past fag sharpied on Eddie’s locker enough times to know that unlike Steve, he never really had the luxury of hiding it. 

“People always just knew,” he tells Steve. “Don’t know how, don't know why. I’m not sure I‘ve ever actually come out to anyone except Wayne, and that was more of a bitter, self-loathing explosion than anything. It backfired, obviously. Instead of kicking me out, he told me he loved me and I cried so hard I threw up. Totally embarrassing. But even with Wayne…I didn’t have to. It’s like it was tattooed on my forehead, or something. Too soft, too close with other boys, too obvious. So I leaned into it. Learned to fight, ‘cause getting beat up might end in something worse. Let my freak flag fly, let ‘em focus on the DND and the devil worshiping because somehow that was better than being queer.”

Steve, who’d also known about Eddie long before Eddie had told him, bites his tongue. 

“I think he’s safe,” Eddie finishes with a nod. “He really did seem like he wouldn’t have said anything, if he’d known I hadn’t told you. Which is hilarious to me, by the way, because I’d just kind of assumed I didn’t have to so you might have just waited forever. Plus I think he and Hopper have, like, a vibe.”

Steve chokes. “A vibe?”

“They’re not fucking,” he clarifies, “but they have fucked, yanno?”

“You’re fucking with me, right?”

“Nah, man. I bet that’s why Hopper asked us to host him, instead of offering up his spare room immediately. Your ex and your new squeeze living together?” He whistles lowly. “Awkward.” “I don’t want to know this,” Steve declares, flipping face first into his pillow. He pushes Eddie’s stinky feet away from his face, ignoring his squawk. “Why would you give me information? Now I have to look Hopper in the eye knowing that his taste in men is Murray.”

#stranger things fanfic #murray bauman #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #implied past murray/hopper because i think it's funny #accidental outing #i like murray matchmaking steddie as much as the rest of them #but occasionally i wonder how it would fit in the time period as two queers instead of 'straight' couples #and my immediate thought was that it would Not Go Well #murray IS obnoxious and i love him for it #matchmaking gone wrong au

[pupkashi]

the jjk men flirting

including gojo satoru, nanami kento, fushiguro megumi, itadori yuji, inumaki toge, okkotsu yuta, fushiguro toji

a/n: hi hi ! back after a while with these flirting hcs :] i hope they aren’t too ooc i tried to make them fit but i do not know the first thing about flirting I’m sorry I’m not a player </3

masterlist

— gojo satoru !

everyone says he’s so flirty and so smooth w it and I’m not saying i disagree but i am saying when he realizes he has actual real feelings for someone his rizz goes out the window

he starts second guessing all his pick up lines and all his flirting tactics

does not know how to act around you anymore because you don’t want someone who never takes things seriously so he has to be more serious, right?

where he would usually make a joke he tries to be more serious

when he doesn’t laugh at your “that’s what she said” joke you get a little suspicious, worried that something was wrong with him

gojo only grew more flustered when you looked at him with concerned eyes and voice as sweet as honey

starts to go back to normal when you tell him you miss his usual self, back making jokes and flirty remarks your way

“y/n have you always looked so beautiful during sunset?” “you like coffee? that’s crazy i do too! how about we go on a coffee date”

when you don’t pick up the hint he grows a bit frustrated, trying to hang out with you alone more, his flirty remarks are out the window and he’s just telling you how he feels at that point

“if you wear that outfit again i might just ask you to be mine” “very funny satoru” (he wants to rip his hair out)

— nanami kento !

makes you swoon so fucking easily it’s embarrassing

absolute dream of a man everyone wants him but he wants you so bad he’s running around town finding the best florist to buy you a bouquet of your favorite flowers only to hand them to you later and say “i saw them on my way here so i thought why not”

will start getting you small things, picks you flowers from the side of the road or sidewalk, if you guys walk together he’ll give them to you then and there

constantly compliments you, “you looks so pretty like that,” “your hair looks nice styled this way”

notices small things about you and points them out, knows when you get your eyebrows done or a small haircut

it’s pretty obvious when he flirts because he is just straight up smiling at you calling you pretty and asking you on a date but in the most subtle charming way possible

finds himself staring at you an unhealthy amount of times, finds your mannerisms so heart warming

will pick up your hobbies so you could spend time together or have someone to talk about it to

he’ll offer to cook for you and invites you to his apartment often for any small thing,,, “i lost my tv remote and i can’t find it, do you wanna come help? I’ll buy you dinner”

he is just so fucking charming and such a gentleman because he wants you so bad and he’s determined to win your heart over no matter how long it take

— fushiguro mergumi !

so awkward and endearing it hurts your heart

he’ll scowl less around you, smiling at any small comments you make and occasionally chuckling at your bad jokes

does not know how to approach you at all, he’ll opt to just trying to be around you in hopes of getting you alone to talk to just you and not the others

“so i was thinking maybe we could go eat somewhere, together?” his smile was small and his cheeks were pink as you smiled back at him, “I’d love that!” you replied, about to speak up again but you were interrupted by yuji’s arm wrapping around your shoulder

“we’re gonna go out to eat? I’ll tell kugasaki!” neither of you could stop your pink haired friend before he was off to tell nobara, megumi would frown but you’d nudge him, offering a sympathetic smile and squeezing his arm

will make you a playlist with his music ke ‘songs that remind me of u’ or music he thinks you’d like (makes sure to put a good amount of love songs so that maybe you’d get the hint)

he’ll watch your favorite shows or movies without you knowing so next time you bring it up he can talk to you about it

memorizes all your favorite things you say in passing, when the opportunity arises he’ll make it known that yeah, he remembered what your favorite starburst flavor was and yeah he bought a pack and saved all of your favorites to give to you the next day

will probably harbor a crush for a while before he gives up on his own methods and begrudgingly asks gojo how to flirt

gojo will smile at him, tell him he’s doing fine and send him on his merry way because although megumi doesn’t notice the way you check yourself in your camera when megumi walks over, or the way you giggle at his every word, gojo certainly does

— itadori yuji !

absolute angel of a boy

will do absolutely every cliche thing when he has a crush on someone

buys you lunch, shares headphones with you, walks you home, texts you late at night funny videos or memes, calls you for hours on end, tells you terrible jokes

he’d probably blush a bit anytime you’re sitting next to him because he can almost feel the heat radiating off you and it’s driving him insane

he’ll try his best to flirt but just comes off as a little insane, so he sticks to being himself and hoping making you laugh is enough to win your heart

when he compliments you his cheeks get soooo rosy and he fumbles over his words, sometimes he’ll fidget with his fingers and he just looks so cute how can you not graciously accept the compliment

always includes you in activities even in times where you have no reason to be there

“fushiguro and i were gonna go play some volleyball with the other guys you wanna come?” “i have never touched a volleyball in my life” “great! I’ll save you a spot on the team”

he just wants to spend time with you !! how can you say no to him ?? (his team won solely because his athletic prowess overshadowed your terrible serves)

won’t brush his feelings off, he knows he likes you and he’s not gonna try and hide it (to an extent) especially not when he wants you to know he likes you so that you can make a move if you’re comfortable with it

in the meantime he’ll continue to spend his nights on FaceTime with you, making you giggle, buying you lunch and sharing headphones (wired ones he bought after he ‘lost’ his Bluetooth ones) with you on late night walks together, blushing and grinning when your hands brushed against one another

— inumaki toge !

the fucking cutest little menace

at first is a little shy, grins so much when you talk to him and is always keeping an eye out for you wherever he is

is so so so sweet but also such a little shit about it 😭😭😭😭

the kind to tell you he knows a really nice place where they make you’re favorite meal but the only way he’ll tell you where it’s at is if you go with him

finds anyway possible to make you blush !!!!!!

“i really like your sweater inumaki” “salmon?” you nod with a small smile, there’s a small smirk on his face before he’s taking it off, the white t shirt underneath riding up along with it, his toned abdomen flashing before your eyes and your cheeks are burning

it doesn’t go unnoticed by the cursed speech user, a smirk on his face, he places the sweater if your hand, before promptly signing “it’ll look better on you anyway”

if you keep denying it despite very obviously wanting to take it he’ll lean in a little, press the sweater a little more into your hands and mumble “take the sweater” his eyes glimmering and you can’t even be upset that he used his cursed speech on you

likes being close to you as much as he can, will spend hours on end listening to you talk, pays so much attention to every word that leaves your mouth, he hangs on your every word

he isnt beyond using his cursed speech to get people to move just so he can sit next to you, even his poor yuta isn’t safe from his friend when it comes to you (he’s too enamored by you, can he really be blamed :(()

shows his feelings in every possible way: getting you things you like, spending time with you, enjoying your hobbies/interests, cheesy pickup lines, teasing you relentlessly

the kind of flirt that makes you blush and squeak telling him to stop but you secretly hope he doesn’t because it’s making you fall more and more for him

“toge are wearing shorts underneath your shorts?” “you’re checking me out a little too hard y/n, why are you noticing that” your face would flush as you tried to scramble for an excuse and the sorcerer will only sit back and have a lazy grin on his face

such a menace but he’s sure to balance the teasing out with endless showers of compliments to make you blush and hours on end of time spent together hoping that you’ll fall as hard as he is <3

— okkotsu yuta !

so sweet and shy and has no idea how to flirt so he immediately googles it

reads something about longing stares and thoughtful questions so he rolls with it, locking his phone and walking up to you

“hi y/n” he smiles, you grin back and return the greeting, “are there more doors or wheels in the world?” he looks at you, trying his best to imitate the guy in the picture he saw but is only met with a confused expression on your face, “are you gonna throw up on me or something?”

yuta never trusted google again

sticks to what toge and the others have told him about just being himself and trying to spend time with you

would walk you home or go with you places you didn’t wanna go alone (that’s how he got roped into going to the mall an entire day)

will help you with tasks you struggle with, let’s you know of things he thinks you might like, texts you often and loves to FaceTime you !!!

will absolutely hit you with the “i didn’t really understand this thing, do you think you could help me with it?”

laughs at all your jokes no matter how terrible and blushes when you talk to him

isn’t very straightforward with his flirting, everything is very subtle because he isn’t sure how to approach you about something this serious so he decides to just let you figure it out on your own

will compliment you but not too often because he doesn’t wanna seem weird, tells you he loves being around you and spending time with you

just a shy boy who is so tooth achingly sweet and wants to do his best to flirt and try to gain your affection (spoiler he’s had it since the first day you spoke to each other)

— fushiguro toji !

so crass it almost hurts

doesn’t flirt as much as he just smirks at you says suggestive things accompanied by a wink

“you look great in that dress, can’t help but wonder how it’d look on my floor” your face burns and the intensity of his stare is too much and you can only giggle and look away, toji towers over you and he loves using that to his advantage

will lean against the wall when listening to you talk, his head cocked to the side and a small smile on his face, his arms are crossed and his biceps and slightly flexed

flirting comes very easy to him, and he loves making you blush with the terrible pickup lines that work because of how attractive he is, always smiling when you look down because you can’t bear to look him in the eyes

calls you nicknames like “sweet thing” or “doll face” and he loves how you react each and every time

makes an effort to actually get to know you, asks about what you like and pays attention, bringing it up again after a while

will absolutely try to hide any softness behind his compliments and actions, covering it up with a crude joke or a sexually suggestive comment

will drive you around to wherever it is you wanna go and secretly hopes you’ll ask him to tag along so he can spend time with you (he will never admit to this even if you date)

is more touchy with you when hes flirting, will place a hand on your wait or back when you’re walking together, grabs your hand/wrist to follow him even when there’s not a crowd around

he’s just so hot and sexy he doesn’t really have to flirt let’s be real here yall

#gojo satoru headcanons #gojo satoru x reader #nanami kento headcanons #nanami kento x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro headcanons #itadori yuji x reader #itadori yuji headcanons #inumaki toge headcanons #inumaki toge x reader #okkotsu yuta x reader #okkotsu yuta headcanons #fushiguro toji x reader #fushiguro toji headcanons #gojo satoru fluff #nanami kento fluff #megumi fushiguro fluff #itadori yuji fluff #inumaki toge fluff #okkotsu yuta fluff #fushiguro toji fluff

[holylulusworld]

Frostbite

Summary: You are cold and pissed.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: language, pissed reader, remorse, fluff

“Hey, can you preheat the bunker?” You sighed as Dean grumbled at the other end of the line. “Dean, did you hear me? I have everything we will need for the holidays. I’m on my way back.” Slowing the car down due to the snow you tried to focus on the road, not Dean chuckling as you are cold again. “DEAN!”

“What are you, bread?” The hunter snickered and made a joke about you being a bread, heat, and your cold feet.

“No,” you grunted into the phone. “I’m a warm and delicious pie with a wet filling you’ll never get to taste again.” You angrily hung up the phone.

After buying all the things for Christmas, booze for Dean, and gifts, you couldn’t wait to drive home to a warm and cozy bunker.

It was freezing outside, and damn cold.

One phone call later you weren’t just cold. You were downright pissed too. All you asked for was for Dean to preheat the bunker so you could warm up after being out in the cold for hours.

“Wait for it, Winchester! You’ll not get any,” you grunted and slammed your hands onto the steering wheel. “This includes pie and booze!”

“Dean?” Sam laughed as his brother ran around the bunker, pillows, a soft blanket, and your favorite plushie tugged under his arm. “Where is the fire?”

Dean stopped in his tracks, shook his head, and ran toward your shared room without sparing his brother a second glance.

“What did you do this time?”

“Nothing!” Dean yelled at his brother while running along the hallway.

“Nothing?” Sam pressed on. “Is that the reason I’m running around in a tank top and shorts because I feel like you are trying to cook me?”

“Y/N is cold…again.”

“Let me guess,” Sam dipped his head, a smirk creeping on his face, “you fucked up and said something stupid…again.”

“Just shut up, bitch!” Dean stormed off, grumbling under his breath. The last thing he needed was his baby brother teasing him for messing things up.

“Jerk!” Sam retorted and walked away. He didn’t want to get involved in your fight. The heat in the bunker was worse enough. All Sam wanted was to have a shower and to be left alone.

“Dean, what the—??” You stopped short in your tracks when you carried the first bags inside the bunker. It felt like the heat at the bunker hit you out of nowhere. “Warm…no hot…”

“Sweetheart,” Dean exclaimed loudly. He hurriedly made his way toward you to snatch the bags out of your hands. “Let me handle this. You’ll go to the bathroom and have a warm bath.”

Dean pushed the bags in Sam’s hands who only sneaked around the bunker to watch his brother make amends.

“Sammy, bring these into the kitchen. Take care of the rest in the trunk.”

“Dean! What are you,” you squeaked and tried to fight your boyfriend when he picked you up in bridal style to carry you toward the bathroom. “Let me down! Damnit, Winchester. I’m mad at you.”

“I’ll prepare a warm bath for you. I waited for you to come home,” Dean smirked as you squirmed in his arms.

“A bath won’t make things up to me. I asked you to do one thing for me after I ran around town for hours to get all the shit we’ll need,” you crossed your arms over your chest and pouted at Dean.

“It’s just…” He snickers. “You’re such a cute frostbite and I love warming you up. You always snuggle closer to me to get warm and cozy.”

“You want me to freeze so you can warm me up?”

“I love warming you up,” he chuckled. “You’re my little frostbite and I’m your heater to warm you up. We’re the perfect match.”

“You’re still an ass, and on my naughty list.”

“Uh-huh. Did you hear that Sammy, I’m on her naughty list,” Dean grinned. “I bet she loves it when I’m naughty—” You covered Dean’s mouth with your hand.

“Dean, stop talking! You can't say things like that in front of Sam.”

“Aw, come on, sweetheart. Teasing Sammy is half the fun,” he grinned and chuckled as you suppressed a giggle. “Baby, are you still mad at me?”

“A little less because you preheated the bunker for me,” you whispered in his ear and tugged at his earlobe. “If you warm me up real good tonight, I'll consider forgiving you.”

Dean made an odd noise at your words.

“I got you warm blankets and pillows. I cooked for you too, baby. I swear, after your bath, I’ll warm you up so good you will never need me to preheat the bunker for you again…” 

Tags in reblog.

#dean winchester #dean x reader #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x y/n #spn

[wannaeatramyeon]

Goo Kim x Reader: Dating (feat. Gun)

G/N. Requested. Fluff

"Who is this mysterious sexy man?" Goo chuckles, "It's ME!"

He thrusts the trashy tabloid in Gun's face. That ridiculous headline and Goo's mug plastered on the front page, arm around one of the most sought after K-Pop idols.

Mysterious? Sexy?

Gun peers at the photo and thinks that Goo looks like how he always does.

An idiot.

Lips stretched into an open mouthed grin. Eyes crinkled. Hideously garish suit. Stupid bleached hair.

Some of his meagre charm must be doing something though, because the idol's smile reflects his. A touch more sane, a lot more sincere, and very much besotted if the way they're looking at the blonde is anything to go by.

"They're boring though," Goo leans back, studies the idol's face that he is casually bedding and dismisses them.

One word, cutting and cruel: "Next."

.

.

"Either answer it, or turn it off."

"Nope!"

Gun glares at him. The phone continues to vibrate, buzzing noisily on the table.

It stops.

For now-

One..

Two...

Three...

And like clockwork-

It starts ringing again.

Just like it has done for the last ten minutes.

Fuck this. Gun grabs the device and hurls it onto the floor. It smashes with excessive force, a complete overkill, into the marble tiles.

The screen cracks, flashes, then dies.

"You're doing me a favour," Goo taps his long fingers against the table, unconcerned and disinterested, peering out the window, "They were getting clingy."

They being the supermodel that walked the Paris runway last week. Graced the front cover of the September Issue the week before.

It didn't matter.

His interest putters out like it always does. Goo is done with them.

.

.

"Ewwwww, tasteless!"

Gun catches a glimpse of a suit nestled in a gift box, logos of one of the most expensive and exclusive fashion houses adorn the tissue paper.

"Throw it away! Trash it!" Goo instructs and the HNH assistant scurries away.

"Ugh," The blonde pulls a face, as if the lingering presence of the ugly garment is still offending his delicate sensibilities.

Grabs his phone (new and top of the line) out of his pocket and makes a show of blocking someone.

He throws his arm around Gun's shoulder.

"You'd think a chaebol heir-" Stressing chaebol and heir with a smug waggle of the eyebrows, "-would have better taste. I can't be with someone with such awful style!"

Gun pushes him away, "I don't care. Shut up."

.

.

Goo has a new obsession.

Used to let his phone ring out. Used to ghost people for days, weeks, months, before reaching out again. (If he does reach out, that is.) Relish in playing mind games and gaslighting.

Now he picks up after the second ring. Murmurs, voice cooing and sickly sweet, into his phone.

Excuses himself "I have to take this," and walks out of meetings with Charles Choi and the HNH board.

Is unavailable on weekends and evenings. Snaps "I'm busy," when Gun offers the moneymaker a chance to make more money.

Then the new obsession turns into an ongoing obsession.

.

.

Your name flashes on Goo's phone screen.

Your name is one that Gun has, against his will, grown familiar with.

He has heard more than his fair share of your interests and hobbies. How great you are, how talented, how wonderful. The way your hair gleams in the light, how your eyes sparkle when you laugh. How you always beat Goo in games, "Y/N must be cheating!" he would screech.

And, according to Goo, has the most deliciously mean sense of humour. "You could never be as funny as Y/N." Goo sneers, as if it was a competition. As if Gun ever wanted to be seen as funny. Or to make Goo fucking Kim laugh.

Gun couldn't give a shit. Gun couldn't care less. But since when did Goo care what Gun thinks.

So Goo rambles, voice rushed and excited, telling him everything about you even when Gun tells him to shut the fuck up and tries to uppercut him on the jaw.

.

.

"You're getting too attached." Gun tells him one day. Not that Gun cares, but Goo Kim happy is insufferable.

He expects a glare, an insult. Eyes narrowed behind glasses and venom.

Goo's response surprises him. Gun never expected this.

A shrug and a lopsided smile. Goo is resigned to his fate. "Yeah," he agrees.

He knows he is too attached to you, and he has no intention of ever changing that.

#slightly different format with fic requests! #my inbox is overwhelming me #lookism #lookism manhwa #lookism webtoon #lookism x reader #lookism fic #goo kim #goo kim x reader #kim joongoo x reader #kim joongoo #gun park #wannaeatramyeon

[joojeans]

&team and jealous sex (like they got jealous of you being close to someone else and rail you to show who you belong to)? 👀👀 love your writing btw!

you get me anon i love this type of thing 🤧

p.s. i made this about them being jealous of another member bc wHY NOT SJFKSF

&team hyung line: jealous sex

warning: some of the members are a liiiil mean so if you're sensitive, please don't read this!

k: your palms hit the wall, head turning to the side as k's hand travels up your back, pressing firmly along your spine to glue you to the wall. "i didn't mean to upset you," k mocks your words from minutes before when you had tried to explain to him that you weren't just letting nicholas touch you for fun—you had asked him to style your outfit the way he thought it'd look best. k just couldn't seem to see anything but red, much less your point. "he had his hands here." his hands find your hips, gripping them harshly. they travel down to your thighs, squeezing the flesh unforgivingly where nicholas had been cuffing the hem of your shorts. "here." finally, they travel up your body, taking hold of your neck where nicholas had been fastening a necklace. "and here." you sigh, head leaning more into the wall as you shift your legs, your underwear sticking to you uncomfortably. "i-i'm sorry. it won't happen again, i promise." k clicks his tongue and laughs, releasing your neck to task himself with removing your shorts. "i know it won't, baby." you whine when you feel the air of room against your now thinly-covered cunt, your ears picking up the sound of k unzipping his jeans. his fingers find themselves between your thighs, pulling your panties to the side as he glides himself between your folds. one hand reaches for his cock, aligning himself with your entrance while the other slides into the back of your hair, fisting it harshly, laughing when you moan at the sting. he leans in until his voice is seething in your ear. "you're mine, aren't you? i'll remind you. do i need to remind nicholas too?" you're still shivering from the sound of his voice when he pushes himself inside you, filling you immediately. he hisses at the feeling of you clenching around him, pulling you back by your hair until your head rests on his shoulder. "fuck, you're soaked. you must really like pissing me off." you hum, angling your head back further as k begins fucking into you ruthlessly, your head lolling with the movement. the room fills with your incessant moaning and k's curses, only stopping when he's proven that you're his by marking you from the inside.

fuma: you're frowning, unsatisfied, even as you ride fuma's cock. he's sat back against the headboard, watching you as you try to please yourself on him, arms crossed. "what's the matter? not having fun, y/n?" you sigh, hips still working to find the pleasure you've been craving all night. "fuma, you said you would take care of me. i've been thinking about it the whole day!" fuma's lips twitch at the desperation in your voice. he almost cracks a smile. "that was before you spent the whole evening ignoring me to talk to k. and besides, i am taking care of you, aren't i? i'm not denying you anything." you whimper at his obvious dismissal of what you both knew you wanted from him tonight, eyes watering from frustration. fuma sits up until his face is only an inch or two away from yours, busy eyes eating up the sight up of your tears. "aw. what you really wanted was for me to fuck your pretty face into the mattress, huh?" your breath catches in your throat, eyes growing wide at just the mention of what you want. "please, fuma. need you so bad." he hums, wiping away a tear that's threatening to fall with his knuckle. "you sound cute when you beg." smart enough to take an opportunity when it's given to you, you beg more. "please please, fuma, please. i'll do anything, please." licking his lips, fuma pulls back just slightly to take in the sight of your entire face—red cheeks, glassy eyes, pouty lips. his hands take hold of your hips, rubbing the flesh. "i'll hold you to that 'anything' that you just promised." before you can tell him that you mean it, that you'll do anything, he flips the two of you over, spinning you further until you're face down against the pillows. he doesn't waste a second, pushing his cock right back into your needy cunt, smirking to himself at the first satisfied moan you've made all night. his hands use your hips for leverage as he pounds into you, leaving pretty bruises behind for you to find in the morning. it doesn't take long for him to render you speechless, thoughtless, his ego boosted by how stupid you get for his cock. "k couldn't fuck you like this, could he?"

nicholas: nicholas pulls your panties down your legs eagerly, your body practically crumpled beneath him in the backseat of his car. your cheeks are burning with something between embarrassment and excitement. he could've waited until you got home to fuck you, but instead he's inching his cock into you torturously slow, trying to pretend it doesn't affect him just as much as it does you. "can't ever let you out of my sight for a few minutes without coming back to find euijoo smiling at you like a lovesick puppy, can i?" you groan, hips raising in an effort to take more than nicholas is giving you. he pushes your hips back down and holds them there, thrusting shallowly, slowly. you feel like a starved woman staring at a piece of meat that's just out of your reach. "nicholas," you whine, bottom lip jutting out, dissatisfied. "that's my name," he taunts, stilling his hips with himself half-buried inside of you. he smirks down at you, teeth tugging at your pouty lip. "you look upset. doesn't feel nice, does it?" the forced cockwarming is not what you had in mind when he tempted you into the backseat, but you should've known it was too good to be true. he never lets you off easy when you manage to make him jealous. he watches as you squirm and whimper under him, drinking in the intoxicating sight of you being deliciously needy for him. he plants feather-light kisses all over your face and it only frustrates you more. it's only when you start to give up that he almost feels bad and decides he's denied you enough. when he starts fucking you properly, his movements are sharp, designed to force your lips open so you can't keep your cries of pleasure from him. his name falls from your lips like a mantra, so thankful for how fully he's giving himself to you when you had lost hope. "that's right, baby. keep crying my name because i'm the only one that can give you what you want."

euijoo: "juju, please," you cry, fingers gripping the sheets below you. you're dangerously close to your fourth orgasm and you've been overstimulated since the first. you knew he wasn't going to be an angel with you tonight after you made him feel useless all day, asking fuma to help you with all your needs instead, but you hadn't expected it to bother him this much. you hadn't even done it purposely. fuma kept offering help before you could ask, so you eventually just started asking him to help you whenever you did need help with something. turns out, euijoo likes to be the one to take care of you and he doesn't like watching anyone else do it. he had been uncharacteristically cold to you, radiant smile nowhere to be found and voice brimming with annoyance, since you got in the car to come home. you couldn't handle him being upset with you, so you had offered to make it up to him with your mouth, eyelashes batting sweetly at him, but his eyes darkened and you knew that wasn't going to be enough. you're currently pressed under his large body, one of your legs bent at the knee and pushed up—out of his way. his soft hair is drenched in sweat as he fucks himself into you again and again, never giving you a moment to recover when you cum on his cock yet another time. he looks drunk on you, eyelids heavy as he hisses and moans freely, hips forcing himself impossibly deeper with every thrust. he sounds so fucking pretty that you almost don't care about the ache between your legs or the way your stomach is tensed for the unraveling. you whine as the sensation builds and euijoo forces his eyes open, never wanting to miss the look on your face when he rips another orgasm out of you. your body quakes from head to toe when you cum, twitching from the mixture of pain and pleasure. he fucks you through it, grinning down at you as he holds your face in his hand, thumb brushing over your lips. "look at how i make you shake, angel. you need me."

cr. cafekitsune for mdni banners ♡

#listen i know i already wrote nicho being jealous of euijoo but i'm not sorry #k #fuma #nicho #ej #all team #&team smut #andteam smut

[madaqueue]

Dripping in Gold | Chapter 1

synopsis: finding a job was never easy, and why even bother trying after you meet satoru gojo, a man with mysterious and exorbitant wealth, who wants nothing more than to spoil you with it? the only caveat to your little arrangement is that it can never, ever, become personal.

pairing: satoru gojo x f!reader

themes/content: non-curse modern au, sugar daddy gojo. language, angst, light smut. alcohol mention, masturbation (f). 18+, MDNI

word count: 2.6k

a/n: IT'S HERE AHHHH hope y'all like this one :)

series masterlist | next chapter

God, I need to get a job.

The afternoon sun filters in through the blinds as you scroll through your phone, trying to distract yourself from the reality of your future. You graduated college months ago and still have no idea what you want to do or how to do it. Application after application, shitty interview after shitty interview, and you’re still no further into the career that’s supposed to be the rest of your life.

Sighing, you prop yourself up on your elbows in bed to take in the space around you - clothes were strewn across the floor of your studio apartment, dirty dishes piled in the sink, empty takeout containers from restaurants you certainly couldn’t afford to be eating at. It was all just too much.

Eh, I’ll get around to it, you think, laying back into the pillows and returning to your phone. You navigate to check your bank account, just to see the damage that months of unemployment have done.

“Balance: $68.06”

Shit. That’s not even enough to make rent this month, and even if you did have a job lined up you’ve already asked your landlord for one extension on your payments and he did not seem very open to the prospect of doing it again.

Trying to shut out the thought of possibly losing your apartment, you move over to Instagram to quiet the dread building inside of you. Scrolling through posts of your friends on yachts, traveling the country, eating expensive dinners with expensive-looking people, you only feel like more of a failure.

How are they able to do it? I mean, sure, they at least have jobs, but none of them pay well enough to do this, right?

You hover over one of your friend’s pictures, trying to recognize the incredibly well-dressed, albeit much older, man she’s seated across from. As you zoom in, it suddenly clicks - her new jewelry, the expensive bottle of champagne, fresh nails, styled hair - and you remember your conversation with her the last time you saw each other.

You were both out at a bar and she kept buying rounds of shots for you and all your friends.

“Dude, not to be a total dick, but how are you able to afford all this?” you shout over the music blasting through the speakers.

“Oh m’god, you aren’t gonna believe it” she slurs slightly, “there’s this app where rich guys pay you to just go on dates with ‘em, I jus’ gotta keep lookin’ pretty and they pay me so much.”

“Don’t you have to, like, fuck them though?” you ask, curiously raising an eyebrow.

“Only if y’wanna! You’re not really supposed to, but they pay you a lot more!” she grins.

At the time you pushed the conversation to the back of your mind and promptly forgot about it after a few more drinks, but now the realization crashes over you.

No, there’s no way. You try to shake the idea out of your mind - were you seriously considering getting a sugar daddy before getting a job?

She did make it sound pretty easy though…and I mean, it’s just dates, right?

You hesitantly pull out your laptop to search for the website she had mentioned. There’s no harm in just checking it out, you try to rationalize. Before you know it, you’ve set up a profile and have picked out a few pictures of yourself that make you look particularly hot - you out at a bar, you on the beach, you with your friends.

After you finalize your profile, the screen suddenly fills with pictures of, frankly, less-than-attractive older men. You roll your eyes and scoff at your own stupidity for even considering this idea, starting to shut your laptop before something catches your eye in the corner of the screen.

Bright white hair and piercing blue eyes look back at you through the computer. Holy shit, he’s hot, you think as you move your mouse to click on his profile.

Bio: “My name’s Gojo, but you can call me yours 🥰 23, casual only”

Okay, so he’s hot, rich, and practically the same age as you? You feel like you’ve struck gold. Besides, he only wants something casual, which is all you’re interested in anyways since you still need to focus on finding a job eventually, but this could at least help you financially bridge the gap between then and now.

Swiping up, you decide to just send him a message and hope for the best; after all, the worst he can say is no.

You: Gojo, I need you to be fr with me - does that pickup line in your bio ever actually work?

Sighing, you move to close your computer as you wait for him to respond, but a message pops up almost instantly.

Gojo: Why don’t you find out tonight over dinner - 7:30 work for you?

A smile starts to form on your lips - this was almost too easy. The two of you briefly confirm the details of your first date before you finally shut your laptop and start getting ready.

–

Standing outside of the restaurant, you’re suddenly hit with a wave of nervousness as the reality of what you’re about to do sets in.

There’s no way this is a good idea - maybe I should just go home. No, no, I’ve made it this far, and I really do need the money.

You inhale a shaky breath as you try to steady yourself before reaching for the door and walking inside. The restaurant is beautiful, the scent of fresh bread and herbs hitting your nose as soon as your feet step onto the dark wood of the floor. The deep red walls make the space feel cozy, intimately lit with candles and a chandelier hanging overhead. You glance down at the burgundy dress and black heels you decided on since they were the nicest clothes you owned, yet you still feel slightly underdressed.

Glancing around the restaurant, the white-haired man is nowhere to be found. “Hi, um, I’m here to meet someone,” you hesitantly explain to the person at the host stand.

“Ah yes, you must be with Mr. Gojo. Right this way,” he gestures for you to follow him. He leads you through the restaurant to the far back corner, unveiling a small room that was initially hidden behind a curtain.

As you adjust to the dim lighting, you glance around the new space in front of you: a single table with roses placed in the middle, and on one side sits perhaps the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. He smiles at you as those bright blue eyes meet yours before they slowly move down and up your body, taking you all in.

“Well, aren’t you a treat,” he grins before getting up to pull out the empty chair for you.

When he stands up you allow your gaze to cover him as your eyes shift up to his white locks then down across his black suit, adorned with a dark red tie that somehow perfectly matches your dress.

“You aren’t half-bad yourself,” you respond as you move across the small space to sit down.

“Careful now, don’t flatter me too much or it’ll go to my head,” he smirks as he returns to his seat across from you. He places his elbow on the table and rests his chin in his palm, staring at you.

Trying to break the silence, you murmur, “This place is nice.”

“Mhm,” he hums, eyes never leaving your face.

“So, um, what do you do?” you continue, desperately trying to loosen the pressure you feel from his gaze.

“Do you care?” he taunts, tilting his head to the side with that same smirk on his face.

“W-well, I-” you stammer.

“It’s okay sweetheart, I’m not offended. You’re here because I’m paying you, and I’m here because I wanted to sit across from a beautiful woman. It doesn’t have to be anything more than that,” he smiles.

The combination of the pet name and him calling you beautiful suddenly makes your cheeks flush and you look down at the table, trying to hide your reddening face.

Suddenly you feel a hand on your chin as Gojo gently tilts your head back up. “Eyes up here, princess,” he purrs. “After all, what’s the point of this little date if I can’t even look at you?”

Something about his touch, his voice, his words has your heart fluttering in your chest. You’ve never been nervous like this over a guy before, and you’ve barely just met him.

You swallow, trying to keep your eyes on his but it almost feels like he’s seeing into you, somehow able to view the depths of your soul. You feel naked in front of him, like he’s looking at your very essence.

After what feels like an eternity, he finally breaks the eye contact with a chuckle. “Sorry, I know I can come off a little intense sometimes. You’re just so gorgeous it feels like I would be doing myself a disservice if I didn’t try to take it all in.”

A sigh escapes your lips as you finally tear your gaze away from him, softly laughing at the compliment.

The rest of the date goes smoothly - he orders the most expensive bottle of wine on the menu and tells you to get whatever you want, since it’s obviously his treat. The conversation flows easily between the two of you, and you find yourself genuinely enjoying your time with him. When it comes time to leave, he thanks you for spending the night with him and gives you his phone number in case you ever want to go out again. As you part ways to walk towards your car, you get a notification from your bank.

Holy. Shit.

Your eyes widen at the screen. Gojo sent you $2,000.

You almost feel dizzy, not having had this much money at once in nearly months. Now you can pay rent and buy groceries and do all the other stuff you were too broke to do. Sitting in your car, you let out a squeal of excitement.

Unfortunately, your joy gets cut short as you go to turn your car on, the key turning repeatedly in the ignition as it stalls out.

Of course, you think, the one time I don’t put gas in this goddamn thing. To your credit, you really couldn’t afford it, and it had lasted longer on empty before. You had also neglected the oil change, and the tire rotation, and the other maintenance the mechanic kept emailing you was overdue, but how were you supposed to pay for all that anyways? Not knowing what to do, you pull out your phone to call someone to help you. As you unlock it, you’re met with Gojo’s contact information he just put in.

I mean, he would definitely help me. And I know he can afford gas. Sighing, you call him.

He answers almost immediately. “Miss me already?”

You want to roll your eyes at his cockiness, but you really do need his help. “My piece of shit car won’t turn on, and I figured you’re probably still close to the restaurant, could you help?”

“Anything for you, sweetheart. I’ll be there in a minute.” Even after just one date, it’s like you can practically hear his smile through the phone.

As promised, he arrives a few minutes later. He drives up in a sleek, black Porsche that has windows so tinted you wouldn’t be able to see inside if he hadn’t rolled his window down. Of course he drives a nice car, you think to yourself.

“Your savior has arrived,” he smirks, leaning his head out the window at you where you stand against your car. Opening the passenger side door reveals the interior of the vehicle, which is just as nice as the outside, with black leather seats and an all-black console. “You know, this is usually the part where you say thank you.” He turns to face you as the scent of his cologne hits you, something woody and crisp.

“Thanks,” you mutter as you settle into the comfortable seat. “You can just take me home.”

“On it,” he responds with a salute.

The drive is quiet as you spiral into your thoughts. How am I supposed to get a job now if I can’t even drive to an interview? How am I even supposed to get groceries? Can I just leave my car at the restaurant? Where else would I even take it? How am I supposed to afford this? Fuck.

Gojo clears his throat next to you, pulling you out of your mind. “You alright over there, sweetheart?”

“Y-yeah, sorry,” you stutter, “just stressed.”

He glances over at you out of the corner of his eyes. “Well, what if I could help you be a little less stressed?”

“Oh yeah, and how would you do that exactly?” Looking down, you suddenly notice his hand on your thigh, his thumb moving in slow circles along your skin. The gentle sensation makes you feel flustered as heat begins to pool between your legs.

Am I seriously about to fuck this guy I just met?

Before you can say anything else, Gojo continues. “How about you use my car while I get yours sorted out for you, hm?” A look of surprise flashes across your face at his kindness and lack of sexual proposition. “What, not the offer you were expecting?” he smirks.

“Gojo, I-” you start.

“Look, princess, I want to do this. Let me help you, please?” he pleads.

“Fine,” you relent, “but I owe you one, seriously.”

“Don’t worry about it. But, if you really insist, I’m sure we can figure out a way for you to repay me at some point.” You tilt your head to look at him as his eyes meet yours, a glint of mischief in his blue irises.

After a few more minutes of him flirting with you, his hand never leaving your thigh, Gojo finally pulls up to your apartment building. Stepping out of the car, he hands you the keys and reminds you not to worry, that he’ll take care of everything. You thank him again as you walk inside - he insists you don’t wait outside while he waits for his ride home - and he sends you off with a wave.

Walking into your apartment, your thoughts swirl in your mind as you replay the events that just transpired. How did you manage to find this rich, handsome, courteous man? More importantly, what’s the catch? If he’s truly as good as he seems, why was he on that website in the first place?

Sighing, you flop onto your bed and peel off your dress, tossing it into the accumulating pile of clothes on the floor. Your skin feels warm where he touched you, a part of you wishing he had inched higher. Before you realize you’re doing it, your hands traverse down your body between your legs, gently pulling your panties to the side.

As you rub over your clit, you picture how his soft fingertips would feel against you, how good those long fingers would feel inside you, beckoning you towards your release. Your other hand traces up your chest, gently cupping your breast as you toy with your firm nipple. His name escapes your mouth as you feel yourself getting closer, eyes shut as you picture him. “Gojo,” you can’t stop yourself from moaning into the empty room as your orgasm hits you, legs shaking, the thought of him the only thing on your mind.

Your breathing slows as you come down from your high, heart still pounding in your chest.

Well, that settles it, you think as you sit up. I guess I am going to fuck him.

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[chronically-ghosted]

i'm swingin' blind and you're stunning me without any gloves

rating: E for Explicit! 18+

word count: 9K

pairing: dieter bravo x f!reader

summary: the night continues while the two of you dance around the inevitable. dieter's restraint is foiled by dreams of a water bed.

warnings/tags: depictions of drugs, age gap, cum eating, piv sex, not actually incest but close, concerns about getting old, reader is at least 18 (by how much is up to you), no use of y/n, oral (f receiving), hand jobs (m & f receiving), unprotected piv, squirting, the barest hint of overstimulation, oh and SMUT.

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“Do all movie stars have six empty bedrooms they don’t use?” 

“They’re not always empty . . . I mean, it’s good for parties. Gives people space to get out of the chaos if they want, or if they need a place to crash. Keeps the energy, uh, flowing. Keeps the vibes good.” 

He uses the joint to take the place of having to explain that the room you just passed was in fact used as a revolving door for anyone who wanted a bump only two weeks ago. The second floor stretches out into the darkness, the nasty weather outside beating against the windows. He keeps a slow steady pace, the high making his insides comfortably warm as you wander in and out of rooms, like a less frantic, totally-fuckable version of that Scooby Doo gag. He’s quite sure he’ll never be able to watch Saturday morning cartoons the same way.

So far, you’ve been content with asking rather inane questions, filler questions that he suspects you’re hoping reveal more than he’s giving. The response to the question being more important than the answer itself. 

So no one lives in these rooms? No.

Do you ever use these as anything else other than bedrooms? No.

What’s outside by the pool? A gym.

A gym with full length mirrors that he used to adore snapping selfies in, in his younger cop show days, and without much prompting, would admit to masterbating to on occasion. 

You’ll always be your own greatest critic so fuck ‘em.

You come out of the last bedroom, smirking faintly as though someone had told you a particularly naughty secret, humming faintly to yourself. He never much cared for giving tours but given that you walked ahead of him and gave him adequate time to ogle the backs of your thighs, he could think of worse ways to spend time with you. 

“Mhm hmm,” you mutter to no one in particular. The carpet is plush, but that is the only thing you could say you really enjoyed about the style of the house. Everything else, especially the almost clinically clean air to it, makes it feel like a hotel, as if Dieter is mold growing in someone else’s house. Again, these are filed as things that helped fill out the picture of the man your uncle had become, if not the man he wanted to portray.

“So where do you sleep?” 

He had been lulled into such a stupor of quiet fantasy fueled by his warm high that he didn’t even think twice when he pointed down the hall. 

“God, it just keeps going, doesn’t it?” 

Turns out the path to moral degradation isn’t a straight line, but a curved slope. One he finds himself on, going down round and round and round, the longer he watches your legs, the curve of your ass, the bright smile as you quite obviously tried to get a glimpse of the old Dee. But that's the thing about drugs that he finds he so actively craved – of course there is the euphoria, the chemical sensations, the wires of your brain plugged into different outlets and restarting the whole system. But he's found that’s when people tended to be their most honest, most unpolished and they weren’t afraid to be like that. 

There was a lot of talk around the ego and the ID in his early acting classes. Who was your character when their ego had been pulled back like strips of skin? 

But as he got older, the question he became more obsessed with was, who were the people around him when they weren’t being paid to like him?

You, of course, are different from all that. You hadn’t built up an ego quite yet. You hadn’t built up the mechanisms required to survive the world because you hadn’t needed to. Sure, you could deflect and get what you wanted by batting your eyelashes, but there are times he felt ugly in the skin he had built. Like somewhere along the way, he had tried on all these hats and now they had all attached themselves to his head and he couldn’t tear them off if he tried. His costume didn’t fit– his face wasn’t even visible any more. 

And who exactly had spent the last fifteen minutes trailing after his beautiful, carefree niece, a single breath away from getting so hard it hurt, in this massively empty mansion? What version of himself wants to snake a hand into those shorts and effectively ruin you for anyone else – wanted to grip you so hard there’d be bruises and tears in your eyes when you came? 

Which one of them is he willing to show you?

All of them. None of him. The ID.

You glance over your shoulder, curious that he hadn’t answered you. 

“Yeah,” he sighs, smoking between his two fingers again. “Could get lost in a place like this.”

You pause in your inspection, eyes soft because of the drugs or the low lighting or something else, and take his hand. “Lucky I’ve got you then.” 

His mouth is instantly dry in a way that has nothing to do with the weed. He offers you the joint and you smoke too, eyelids drooping, allowing him another second of looking. 

And then another smile breaks across your face.

“Fuck,” your laugh turns into a cough. “Did you ever get that stupid fucking waterbed you wouldn’t shut up about? I remember you swearing the first thing you’d buy when you were rich and famous was a waterbed – which I thought was so fucking cool because I’d never heard of a waterbed before because I was seven and it sounded like something totally made up — so of course, someone rich and famous could have one.”

You’re still holding hands, your palm dry and warm, when he laughs too. He takes the joint back from you, eyes narrowing as he looks at you out of the corner of his eyes.

Turns out moral degradation is a fucking cannon ball. 

“Why don’t you go see for yourself?” 

You squeeze his hand, eyes bright, before almost sprinting down the hall to the room on the right. He follows you, struck by the notion this is the first and last time you’ll ever enter his bedroom. This has to be the end of something.

He hears a grunt and a groan and he can’t help but smile. He saunters into the room, leaning up against the door frame with his hands in the pockets of his robe. You are face down on the mattress, hands under your chest. 

“This is not a water bed,” you grumble, the sound muffled. 

Once again, Maria deserved a raise just for making his bed. 

“No, it’s not,” he says slowly, as he edges a teasing tone into his next words. “Look, I did get a fucking water bed, alright? Just about a century ago when they were still a thing.”

You ease up onto your elbows and glare at him. “Can’t believe you got rid of it. What a waste.” 

And then you’re sliding back onto your knees, hands planted on the covers, and for just a second, he swears he can see the outline of your cunt through the material that could hardly be called shorts. 

His knees actually buckle for a second before he stands up right and physically has to close his eyes. Looking away wouldn’t have been enough. 

But you don’t see all of this. You’re frowning down, as if glaring hard enough will bypass physics and liquidate the mattress. 

“What happened to it? The water bed, I mean.” 

Just as he’s gotten his heart rate back under control, your question throws everything into a spiral again. 

Do not fucking tell her about the hookers and the brass pasties. Or the cock ring. Definitely do not mention the cock ring. 

“It, uh, popped.” 

You smirk over your shoulder. “It was a sex thing, wasn’t it?” 

The question lingers, Dieter unable to make a coherent word that didn’t sound like take your pants off right fucking now, so he swallows and shakes his head. By some minor miracle, you shrug and don’t push it, sliding off the bed and completing your assessment of his life by regarding the book collection against the opposite wall. 

It’s bigger than you expect someone like Dieter to have, but its placement in the house – almost hidden in his private bedroom – suggests that its volume is not there to impress. It’s his personal collection and, judging by the bent spines, books he’s actually read, perhaps several times. There’s a small desk next to it, crouching in the corner and littered with sheets of paper that look like they were torn from a sketchbook. 

He couldn’t decide which version of himself he wanted you to see less: Dieter, full of vices, or Dieter, bratty actor who only acted in the first place because he couldn’t cut it as a real artist. 

Your hands run over the sketches, eyes annoyingly unreadable, and just as he’s about to leap forward and scoop all of the sketches into the trash, you move on. Your interest is caught by some of the books. You make noises that are both outside of the realm of approval or disgust and he finds himself nervous. Book reading is about the last thing on anyone’s mind once they’ve reached the final destination of The Bedroom, so he’s never worried about what someone might think. But this isn’t just someone, it’s you. 

His mouth opens to make some quippy remark, when you gasp and lunge forward, grabbing something at the back of the shelf.

“Holy shit, that’s you!” 

You hold up a picture of his high school’s production of Othello and there he is fifteen and smack dab in the middle of the cast. 

“Oh fuck, I forgot that was there,” he groans, dropping the nearly gone joint into an ashtray by the side of the bed. You’re practically glowing with excitement and he rolls his eyes as he takes it from you.

“Jesus Christ, look at that kid. Has no idea what kind of dumbass he’s going to grow up to be.” 

Three years after that photo was taken, he had left in the middle of the night for Hollywood. Of course, just as he had finished packing up his piece-of-shit Chevy, Enrico caught him. Exploded in his face and scolded him in his old man ways for leaving without saying nothing. 

He kept this photo because it was the last thing that reminded him of home and yet so distant it didn’t hurt as bad any more. 

“I think he did spectacular for himself,” you grin at him. “Who knew The Dieter Bravo was such a softie for the old days?” 

He smirks at you, finally sick of you kicking his ass all night. There is a line between fucking you and out sassing you, one he could live with. You aren't fucking ready for that Dieter. 

“No way,” he rubs the bottom of his lip with his thumb, artfully contemplative, and purposefully distractingly hot. “Just keep it around for the spank bank. Ms. Lemons was a babe.”

You narrow your eyes at him as he leans across you to put the photo back.  “Oh yeah? I gave my first blow job in that blackbox.”

“No, you fucking didn’t.”

“Yes I did!” 

“What was his name?”

“Jeremy.”

“Jeremy what?” 

“Jeremy . . . Barnes.”

“Pssh, fake name, fake boyfriend, fake story.” 

“He was real! I just . . . can’t remember his last name right now.” 

“Blurs together with all the other guys you’ve blown, right?” 

You bite the corner of your mouth, your smirk so tight he can almost picture your toes curling. Not that he’d dare break eye contact with you now. Now that he’s got you practically pinned to the bookshelf, photo forgotten and something that’s been slinking around for the past three hours finally rolling on its back and exposing its belly. 

He knows The Look, he practically invented it, and he can’t quite remember why it’s not okay to get that from your niece and someone twenty years younger than him. Right now, the portion of his brain that can sort that’s fucked up and it’s not that hard to refrain from being a fucking creep is filled with smoke, a sort of hissing sound there that is not unlike a shaken soda begging for release. 

And dear God does he want release. But he’s willing to edge it just a bit longer, scrape that muscle as gingerly as he can before touching it where it needs to be touched.

“I have no idea what you mean,” you say softly, meekly being cowed for the first time all night. Fuck, do you have to make it so easy?

“That’s right. You don’t. Because if it were any good, you’d remember it.” 

He puts a hand above your shoulder to stop himself from sinking into you. Weed made the world feel plushy, moldable – and he just wants to lounge in the dip of your bottom lip. You look so different from the girl who showed up soaking wet at his front door. 

Your breathing hitches the closer he comes, your eyes fluttering as you watch his fingers dig into the spines of the books. 

“What’s his first name again, darling? Do you still remember that?” 

You gasp, loudly, as if his itching fingers had finally sunk in between your legs, but you’re sliding away from him and pulling out something from the shelf. Something white and something he should have fucking hidden better. 

“Oh my God, is this my senior yearbook?” 

You’re wandering over to his bed, leaving Dieter reeling, his own spell so alarmingly effective he is caught beneath it too. It takes him a moment to blink as he realizes maybe this is where you reneg and decide you don’t want to fuck him after all. 

“It’s not as weird as it sounds –,” he begins, heart in his throat, and hands safely in his pockets as he joins you near the bed. You still haven’t looked up as you flip through the glossy pages.

“Sure, sure.” 

“Look, your dad sent it to me and I didn’t even open it,” he says honestly. The package was delivered on the Tuesday afternoon when he woke up so hungover he actually thought he might die, and couldn’t bear the thought of not recognizing you in the class photo. 

Funny how that all fucking worked out. 

You hadn’t leapt off the bed, called him a dirty old man, and ran away to call the police. Which are probably good signs. So, slowly, he sits down next to you, halfway on the bed and halfway off. 

“He sent it just a few weeks ago. I didn’t really think much of it at the time,” he says quietly. So you had been on the high school’s newspaper staff, as well as being the captain of the journalism club and ran the book club. You were on the volleyball team and co-Secretary of the student body government. Here, he spent all night trying to find out what kind of person you are when half your life is waiting for him upstairs. “But maybe he sent it as, like, some sort of . . . fond reminder.”

You snort, your thumb tucked under your chin as your hand touches the memories on the page.

“No, it fucking wasn’t. He was guilt-tripping you.” 

So your dad definitely still remembered the fight all those years ago. Dieter grimaces. His gaze slides from the stock pages, to your knee, down the crease of your thigh. 

“You know, he would have made me your godfather if–,” 

“If you weren’t such a fuck up. Yeah, he told me that too.” 

You finally look at him and find him nearly out of breath, eyes wide as though he had been struck by a sledgehammer right to the chest. 

“Actually, he told me if I came around more.” 

Your face crumples, the flippancy gone.

“Fuck, Dee, I’m sorry.” You cup the back of his neck with your palm in a soothing gesture and it stirs something within him. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“It is what it is.” Deflection, distraction, escape.

You smile gently, thumbing his curls as your eyes roam his face, seeing right through his bullshit.

“You know, you kinda became the cautionary tale around us growing up,” you murmur, gaze searching his face. “Not sure why, though. Since you’re, like, a gazillionaire.”

Not worth it. None of it’s worth it.

“I get that. I get why he didn’t want me around. Probably best that I fucked off and never looked back.” 

The corners of your eyes crinkle, as though he had said something that didn’t make sense. You stop combing his hair and run your thumb over his ear. 

“But I don’t think you are,” you say slowly, as though you didn’t need to explain. “A cautionary tale, I mean. I think you’re . . . an inspiration. No one in our town ever fucking leaves, but you did. You got the fuck out and lived your dreams. And that’s pretty cool.” 

There’s not any hope for me, not if you knew all the fucked up shit I want to do to you. 

Don’t look at me like that. 

When he looks around for some self control, something to pull himself out of the pit he’s dragging you both in, there’s nothing. All eroded. 

Moral degradation is a smooth fucking shot. 

The yearbook drops from your lap, clatters to the ground as he takes your face with both his hands, his rings pressing into your cheeks, and kisses you so hard his lips knock against your teeth. The force of it rocks you flat against the mattress, your fingers wrapping around his wrists, grounding you to him – don’t take this back, don’t let go – and his tongue runs against your bottom lip once before your mouth opens without hesitation. He can feel that, that desperation, that eagerness to let him in, and he groans into the hollow of your mouth and you take it, you match it, just like everything else he'd given you this night. 

Your tongue rises to catch him, to guide him, to show him the places you need to be touched. He’ll get there, you little thing, so he nips your upper lip and you gasp, your body tightening beneath him. He grins – there’s so much you have to learn. 

His palm drifts away from your jaw, thumb gentle as it coaxes your cheek to the side, before he latches his lips to your neck, sucking and then a quick bite– all eased by his tongue. Your fingers dig up into his hair, clutching him to your chest as there is anything, anywhere else he’d rather be in the world. As if anyone could pry him off you. 

He dives back into your mouth, air rushing out of your nose in a silent moan, and your knee hooks out around his hips, pulling him into the cradle of your lap. You jerk back –

“Dee, you’re – holy shit –,” 

Your hips brush up as if you had somehow gotten it all wrong the first time. As if he isn’t rock hard above you. Your eyes widen as he smirks down at you.

“Yeah, baby, that’s all you. All you do to me.” 

He chuckles, dropping his head to your chest, breathing deeply, head spinning from kissing you so thoroughly. He inhales, nose rubbing against the soft material of your shirt, ideas of peeling it off you with his teeth. Your scent, it’s all at once intoxicating, mesmerizing, and . . . familiar. 

He groans, almost nuzzling your chest.

“Fuck, this smells like that nasty deodorant from 711 I used to buy ‘cause I couldn’t afford anything else.” 

You slowly open your eyes up at him, a distantly embarrassed smile curling up the corners of your mouth. You look hazy, blurred, lips flushed and pink from getting them sucked and bitten. Had he not just licked your entire mouth clean from spit, you might have blushed.

Your fingers curl gingerly around the back of his neck. “Well, you never forget your first.”

His mouth falls open. You had successfully knocked him back on his ass for a second time that night. 

“Shut the fuck up,” he husks, a grin breaking across his lips as the hand at your shoulder pulls gently at the sleeve. “This is my shirt? This has got to be older than you are.”

A small part of his brain, the part that definitely would object to fucking his pseudo-niece, goes warm at the thought that some part of him still lived in that neighborhood, was still there for all the important moments of your life. 

That is until the very active part of his brain lumbers in, quashes all gentle feelings and promptly wrestles for control of his mouth to ask you flat out if you ever touched yourself while wearing it. Not that he didn’t want to know, but if you said yes, he would have come right there on the spot, perhaps so hard his dick popped off. So he did not ask you that, but he did satisfy that part of his brain by molding his hand around your hip, so he could feel the cool fabric on the back of his hand, and your warm, plush skin against his palm. 

You like her being drenched in you, don’t you? 

You swat at his chest, rolling your eyes, oblivious to his rapidly darkening thoughts. “It is not older than me, but if it was . . . would that be a problem?”

You pick at imaginary lint on his shoulder, hips rolling just enough to indicate it better not be a fucking problem, and a smirk on your face that reads innocent and filthy all at once. 

Dieter shakes his head, grinning as he inches his wide palm up your hip, across the thin flesh of your ribs and – 

Does not find a bra. 

You had not been wearing a bra the entire night.

Your smirk deepens, your back arching into his palm, as his thumb brushes the underside of your breast, then over your tightening nipple. You moan softly, eyes fluttering, when he pinches it deftly. His jaw ticks, teeth grinding from the pleasure of watching your mouth arch open. 

It’s like you had been given a list of all the things that turned him on and you are crossing them off one by one. Like you had skinned him and read all his little nasty thoughts written on his ribs and made them your own.

Like you were made for him. 

He leans forward, the bristles of his beard and mustache rough like matches against the shell of your ear, his voice so weighty it could have been another physical thing he intended to drive into you, intended to rub against you to make you keen with pleasure. 

“It’s not a fucking problem, you little brat. Only problem is gonna be if it keeps me from watching those pretty tits bounce while I fuck you.”   

There it is. Out in the open. As if all his flirting and touching and tongue between his teeth hinted at something else besides you spread out under him. Half delirious from being so hard, he grins as he bites the bottom of the shirt – his shirt, Jesus Christ – and pulls it up and he ducks his head under the material and presses a sucking kiss into the valley of your tits. 

He likes giving head from underneath the sheets because, yes, it was hard to breathe. It was hot and stifling and everything smelled of sweat and sex and eventually his brain was forced to make a decision about what motor functions to hold onto and he made it focus on sensations until he was sure he’d be swallowed up by the cunt under his mouth or impaled by the cock in the back of his throat and if that’s how they found him dead, he’d be absolutely fine with all of it. 

Dieter Bravo – died doing what he loved. Giving immaculate, delicious head. 

The heat under the shirt is nowhere near as intense but it’s enough to make him flush with want. He licks the sweat gathering underneath your right tit, holds it on his tongue before he lathers both his spit and your sweat over your clearly-painfully tight nipple. Every touch of his makes you stutter and he can feel you unconsciously rubbing your hips up against him. 

“This isn’t going to end up on Youtube or some shit, right?” You ask above him, your voice rough as though your throat is dry. “You don’t have cameras filming this, right, Dee?” 

He chuckles with his nose rimming your left nipple. Do you have a voyeur kink? He muses vaguely. 

Fuck, I knew I shouldn’t have gotten rid of that mirror. 

“No, baby, it’s not going on Youtube.” He runs his warm palms up the curves of your side as he tugs his head out from underneath the shirt. “All the videos go directly to a password-protected server in the Cloud.”

“Dee–,” you groan as he lunges forward and kisses you hopefully so hard it knocks those silly thoughts from your brain before pulling back to grin helplessly at you. 

You cannot physically describe how impishly adorable he looks with his hair mussed, his lips pink and twisted in a smirk – you cannot really do anything at all, really – but your hand slides up from his shoulder, across his warm neck and settles into his cheek. The last bit of brown is swallowed by a swelling blackness as you rub your thumb across the bottom of his lip. This thing that has been eating at you the longer you’re around him edges you on, daring you to push him just a bit further because it knows you’d just love what he’ll do. It knows more than you, but it’s not exactly smarter than you. It’s just simply fascinated by Dieter Bravo. 

Your own mouth parts, your eyelids growing heavy, as you swipe across his lips one more time before sliding your thumb into the warmth of his mouth. Eyes never leaving yours, his tongue greets your thumb, massaging the pad before licking around it like he’d swirl off the top of an ice cream cone. He sucks gently and you can’t fight the noise that comes out of you. Almost shocked, surprised that you can feel this aroused with all your clothes on and just his tongue. He drags his tongue across the back of your knuckle and the groan is louder now – you want to bite into him – and he pushes his hips into the mattress. 

“C’mere, baby girl–,” 

Dropping your thumb, he dives in again for your mouth, this time the back of his hand grasping your neck. He kisses you and kisses you and kisses you as if forgetting there was another way to relieve the tension in his gut, the spark that's fanning smoke like a brushfire into every place your skin, your spit, touches his. 

“Take– this– off–,” He pants between the hot presses of his mouth to your jaw, your neck, the spot beneath your ear that makes you keen in a new way. His hands are scrambling over yours to get the shirt up and over your head, desire almost making him panic that everything is going too fast but not fast enough – he wants to be inside of you in every way that matter – he wants you to smell like him – to breath his same air – 

He’s not so much kissing as opening his mouth over your skin, his teeth and tongue and lips fighting over themselves to get to you first. He wants to linger, wants to take his time but the pressure – he deliriously thinks he can smell you – and only when his fingers clamp down on the waistband of your shorts – he has half a mind to punish you for walking around in these things, making his sanity unwind in the hallways of this fucking place, until the only truly sane thing to do is fuck you and fuck you good – the thought is so strong, almost violent he pauses. 

He looks up to the devastation he’s left in his wake – bright, purple spots on the inside of your breasts, under your ribs, the small swell of your stomach, your chest heaving – and he watches your face. You realize he’s stopped moving, slowed in his volcanic thunderous roll down to the clutch of your cunt, and you meet his gaze. You swallow, mouth too dry to form words, so you splat a hand on his shoulder. 

"No robe. I’m not – not going to let you f-fuck me in a bathrobe.” 

He grins. Of course, you would sass him after a make out session so intense he doesn’t even care if he comes in his pants. But he obliges, pretty much willing to cut off a finger if you continue to purr at him like you are. 

“Excuse you, this is lounge wear.” He leans back onto his knees and shrugs himself out of the green robe. Your eyes flash to the triangle on his forearm and he’d be fucked to admit he didn’t get it entirely for the look in your eyes right now. Chicks always dug the tattoos. Your tits bounce as your breathing hitches. 

Not Daddy’s girl, his smoke-heavy, lust-soaked brain chants at him, not Daddy’s girl. 

God, he’s so hard it hurts. 

He goes back down, dropping himself between your legs, arms tucked up under the backs of your thighs. He mouths the inside of your thigh – a distraction as his hand, like some sort of fucked up, horny magician performs a slight-of-hand, “iiiis this your clit?” – rubs you over your shorts. You are soaking wet and he’s fighting the urge to just dig in there, suckle you through the wet spot. He hadn’t actually made someone come that way before, but now seemed like an excellent opportunity to try. 

“You know, for someone who has to couch-surf, you talk a lot.” 

He noses the rim of the bottom of your shorts, allowing a full gaze down to your ass. 

“Sorry if I’m sick of fucking boys who look like their mom dressed them.” You are breathless, shaky, unwinding at the seams and you know exactly what to say to dig right into him. 

He bites the soft place at the back of your thigh and you groan. 

“I thought you couldn’t remember any of them before me,” he purrs, watching that damp spot grow darker the longer he talks, the longer he holds off on touching you where you and him and the entire fucking world knows you need to be touched. 

Maybe you ran your mouth too, when you were nervous, overwhelmed. Maybe you laughed too loud when you didn’t know what else to do, and maybe you gave him shit because the second words stopped coming out of your mouth, you’d have to sink into whatever he was giving you. You’d have to kneel to the white lighting between your legs. Maybe you were afraid there wouldn’t be white lightning at all. 

Families share similar insecurities, after all. 

He waits until you open your mouth again before hooking his fingers under the band of your shorts. 

“Hmm, there’s actually a fairly long list of guys before you. Guys who–,” 

He sucks the skin just an inch to the right of your hip bone, just before the patch of curly hair, he sucks it into his mouth and bites so gently he knows that your brain nearly splits in half from the hairline fracture between pleasure and pain. 

You gasp and you’re already arching off the bed. He breathes across those coarse, damp curls and inhales. 

Girlsex. 

Girlsweat. 

It’s like there’s acid corroding his brain, eating away at the clamps holding his sanity together and he’s gonna go fucking ballistic if the acid doesn’t get to him first. But he wants the burn. He wants the chemical smell. 

He wants . . . to put his dick into something. 

But first – 

You’re pliable. Easy to move as he scoops your shorts off your ass – Oh, fucking Christ, there’s her entire backside, isn’t there? – over your thighs and he hurls the shorts over his shoulder. He inhales–

God, this pussy is going to kill me, he thinks or maybe says out loud before he tips forward into that black, fluttering hole. When he licks you, you both moan. 

He remembers specifically doing planks for as long as he could to build up the upper body strength to languish here for hours.

Well, at the time, here wasn’t here here, but if everything before this was practice, then he was ready for the Olympics, dick as hard as a goddamn gold medal. 

He swipes up with his tongue, licking and sucking and swirling like frosting was going out of style. Frosting, that’s it. That’s what you reminded him of. Fat, sweating, sweet frosting. And there was the cherry on top. 

He guides your clit into his mouth, his fingers digging into the tops of your thighs as if to pull himself deeper into the wettest goddamn pool at the fucking YMCA. He sucks once and your hands fly into his hair. You’re making sounds that somewhat resemble his name, but they’re too high, too pitchy, too airless to be anything coherent. 

He wants to tease you about all the boys you mentioned. Wants you to go back on your word, beg for him to believe that there was no one else before him. If there was, it didn’t matter because this is it. This is the best you’d ever have. 

Even when you left him, you’d never forget – 

Disgustingly, he slurps up one lip of yours into his mouth and you cry out, fingernails digging into his scalp so hard that it hurts and sends another rush of blood into his weeping cock. He mouths up before teasing your clit again – around it but never on it – before diving back down and lapping up your other lip. 

“Dieter–,” you garble as if you know it’s filthy. He can hear your breathing tighten in your chest, feel your thighs clench around his ears, and he swears if he gets out of this with hair in tact, that’s the most he’s going to ask for –

And he french-kisses your clit.

You come, gasping, writhing, back arching off the mattress and he bares his forearm across your stomach, reaching up to pinch your nipple. 

Settle down. We’re only just getting started. 

He’s got to control himself but staring up at you, your face flushed with pleasure, he can’t quite remember what he’s supposed to do next. 

You are naked underneath him. Naked and heaving and he licks the dampness staining his mattress just to have your taste in his mouth again. This is going to be a problem, if he can’t think straight without his mouth on you. 

Oh my God, duh, fingers. 

He pulls himself up the length of your body, and his hands sink into your hair. His fingers curl around your ear as he makes you look at him.

“How are you feeling?” It’s an echo of what he asked earlier. You’re still warm but your breathing has slowed. Your eyes are open, even if they’re fighting to stay open as if you are concussed. 

“Good. Great.” You mutter, hand falling to his chest and tangling with his shirt. 

“You wanna keep going?”

Your eyes open wider as if someone rang a dinner bell and you’d been walking on hands and knees, starving for weeks. You swallow thickly, nodding frantically, and the hand leaves his chest, winding down between you and, before he can stop you, slides under the material of his sweats and strokes him. 

Your hands are like velvet.

Fuck, then what’s your cunt gonna feel like– 

Do not fucking come right now. 

“Oh, I see,” you huff, a smirk curling your mouth up, as if you had won some unnamed battle. You roll your shoulder to go aaall the way down his cock and stroke him. You think about licking your hand, but the precum leaking out of the tip of his head at a truly flattering rate is enough lubricant to keep your hand from sticking. “I can’t walk around without a bra on, but you can walk around in these thin fucking sweatpants and no underwear.”

He grits his teeth, dropping his head to his chest, trying to breath through the freightcar rattling down his spine.

“It’s my house, you little cocktease,” he pants, gasping as you run your thumb against the vein underneath his shaft. You pump him again and again and he groans low, with his eyes shut to keep them from rolling back in his head. “I can– yeah, right there – do whatever I want. Move your hand. I want to stick my fingers in you.” 

His words aren’t so crass they make your ears red, but it’s the unrestrained need in his voice. You slowly withdraw your hands and you go wipe the threads of him on the mattress as he sits up to take his shirt off. 

“Don’t. Just– gimme a second.” 

He yanks the tank shirt over his head, setting down in between your legs again and blinking like he’d forgotten where he was. He takes your hand, licks your palm as clean as something as dirty as this could ever get, and then penetrates your hole with his middle finger. His tongue slides in the crevice between your ring finger and your pinkie and when he adds a second finger below, you both can feel the moment your brain is wiped blank and your body twitches along with it. 

“Mhmm, good.” He pulls you down closer to him, fingers plucking your strings like the finest guitar. Your knees are spread wider than when he had half his body down there. He’s watching you practically drown his hand in the wetness seeping out, his other hand holding or balancing your knee. 

He hovers above you, watching you roll and writhe and beg. His forearm is strained, his hand must be soaking, and he thinks your face contorted in pleasure might be permanently burned into his brain. There is still some part of him that knows that’s wrong. He shouldn’t have the faintest idea of what you looked like, high and blissed out of your mind, while his fingers stroke and dig and pluck and rub to drag you higher and higher – 

The pad of his middle finger brushes something spongy and you nearly slam your legs shut over his arm, if it weren’t for his free hand pinning you open. 

“Dee,” you croak, head shaking, “that was – you can’t–,”

His eyes flutter at the sound of your voice so wrecked. He needs to memorize that exact spot, save it for when you don’t have enough sanity left to push back. It’s scary, he knows, but you must be out of your goddamn mind if you thought he was going to let anything bad happen to you. 

“Look at my thumb. Baby, look down.” 

You wrench your eyes open, past your quivering chest, down his long forearm, down to where the black bullseye on the meat of the space between his thumb and palm is winking at you. 

He’s stroking you with his thumb on your clit and the bullseye winking up at you. It’s eye-fucking you and that’s enough to break you. He wants to drink whatever drips out of you as your body locks up, head thrown back, and you come. You break through and his hand curls around your knee, gently, as he watches your body crescendo for the second time that night. He sucks his fingers, almost pensively, as if he is going to carve something out of you. Remake you. Split apart your atoms and rebuild you whole. Sex as an act of re-creation. 

He kneels his way out of his pants, cock pounding red, leaking, the hot center of where his want for you is infecting him like a sickness. 

Slowly, he drags one of your knees over his shoulder, half of your body hovering just above the mattress. 

He wants to ask if you need it rough or slow. He can’t be gentle right now but he does have enough awareness to keep from hurting you. But maybe you, like him, like a little bit of pain. 

He wants you on top, wants to see you sing for him, but he knows your legs are jelly. He knows there’s a white static hum in your brain and he’s so grateful for the pleasure of it. 

He rubs the top of your thigh and noses the back of your ankle up by his ear. 

“Do you want me to put a condom on?” he asks quietly, before kissing that spot below your ankle.

“Are you clean?” He’s so fucking broad and his rings pinch your skin when he pushes too hard and he’s asking for your comfort. You also want to feel every inch of his cock and you beg him to say yes. 

He nods, suddenly irrationally thankful of Paul’s monthly mandated screenings. You get the clap once, and your fucking manager never lets you forget it. 

You huff, realizing you’re so close your cunt can almost taste it. “I-I’m on the pill. A-a-and I’m clean too.” 

As if he had ever denied you anything, as if his willpower hadn’t barely lasted four hours, you tense at the anticipation of his cock. 

He’s just as warm, just as ready, so he grabs your other ankle and draws it next to your other one against the back of his neck. He sinks back just a bit on his ankles, fingers spreading you and grabbing himself and then–

It’s like getting the wind knocked out of you and getting sprayed with a hose of fire all at once. 

“JesusfuckingChrist, you’re tight.” 

He edges deeper as he sits up right, going slow not because he hadn’t unwound you properly but because if he went any faster, he’d obsess over the idea of getting rug burns on his dick. 

“Dieter, oh God–,”

Hands leaving your ankles to wrap around your thighs, he rocks his hips back and drags out his cock just as much as the both of you can handle before thrusting forward. Again.

Again. He can’t seem to fill you enough. He wants to be bigger, thicker, girthier, if only to plug you up more. 

But, fuck, your cunt is better than your hands but only because it’s so warm and wet and throbbing and he swears his heartbeat is in his ears. 

He thrusts almost lazily, dipping his head to kiss your shin before dropping it back, your toes brushing his hair. His hands greedily squeeze your thighs, thumbs rubbing circles. 

It’s like he has to recover from the shock and sensation of fucking you. It’s too good. It’s too much. 

He’s inside of you.

If there’s a relief fund for grilled cheese, he’s going to have to donate every red cent he’s ever owned. 

Your hands clench the sheets, mouth open and, yes, beautiful tits bouncing with every thrust. It’s not them hovering above him, begging to be bitten, but it’s close and he smooths his hand down from your thigh over his chest, down your hip and he kneads your breast. 

“Oh, fuck, Dee, fuck . . . you feel so fucking good.” 

I want to die in this cunt. 

“So good, baby.” 

It’s back, that pressure that connects the backs of his eyes, to the back of his gut, all the way to his pussy-soaked cock. This time he lets it build, lets it dangle out of reach, and his thrusts become faster, hurried. You jerk beneath him and let out a full whine as if he had spanked you. 

He fucks you some more this way, just to feel that tightening in his gut, before he pulls your legs off his shoulders and you whine again, this time out of annoyance. 

He has the where-with-all to smirk.

“What, baby doesn’t like it when I take away her toys?” He pants, almost feeling light-headed. You scowl at him but don’t push back in the least as he turns you onto your hands and knees. 

“It was just starting to feel good, you a-ahh–ss–,”

He jerks his hips into you without warning, fully seating you on his cock and your head drops between your shoulders. 

“If you weren’t such a brat, you’d be kind of cute,” he murmurs as he rubs his thumb over the knots in your spine, the sensation of your cunt sucking him in almost detaching him from this plane of existence. He knows you like to be teased, with his words, with his fingers, his mouth. He wants to give you everything – anything – he’s so pussy-obsessed he can feel it like ozone in his mouth.

He never wants to stop fucking you. He’s being unstable about it. 

“You like that I’m a brat,” you say and push back with your hips. The sensation does make him stutter and you take it as a win. His rings sting as they squeeze your hips. 

He’s sliding down that pressure, winding himself up so tightly in it he wants to stop breathing – 

He starts pumping faster. The sounds that echo in that room are like music to his ears.

The sheets ruffling as your hands clench around them. The jolt of the bed as it lurches back and forth.

Your moans as he fucks every thought out of your head. “Fuck, you’re so big. It’s not fair.” 

The wet slap of his thighs meeting yours. 

And it all narrows down, the universe closing to a single focal point–  all of it runs right to his cock rubbing up inside your cunt like it owns the place.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck,” you groan, head down. “Please – please fuck me harder, Uncle Dieter.” 

With a growl that surprised even him, he drops forward, one hand anchoring himself to your hip and the other coming up around your throat. You gasp as his fingers dig painfully into your skin. He pulls you both up right, nose in your ear and teeth tight in his jaw. 

He punctuates every word with a particularly brutal thrust that gnaws at something truly devastating inside you. 

“Don’t – fucking – call me that – while – I’m inside – you–,”

You turn your head, flush with his and the hand that’s on your throat slides up to your cheek and he holds you there, pins you there as his cock pounds the daylights out of you. 

“Say my name.” He husks. There’s something cataclysmic happening inside your cunt and he has the launch codes. 

You can’t remember feeling so full before. So up your eyes and your mouth and your ears and your heart – God, maybe there really hadn’t been anyone before him. 

“Oh, fuck, Dieter,”

“No, honey, my real name.” 

Your eyes flicker open and something in his chest roars. He’ll kiss you after this. He’ll kiss you so hard you end up on another fucking planet. 

“David.” 

The sweat on his temples mixes with yours and he wants to smear himself in your fluids. This close, his beard and mustache rub roughly against your skin and you wonder how long the burn will last after all this. You’re clenching his arm, clenching his lower back to you, you think you’ll make him bleed in half-moon cuts of blood. 

“All of it. All of it, baby girl,” he whispers to your cheek, your jaw. “Say it. I need to hear it. I need to hear it from you.” 

Your fucked-out mind spins, clutching at the memories of the past, to a name you hadn’t heard in a decade, while the man you’ve known all your life threatens to undo your sanity. You lock eyes with him, the precipice of something so large and looming, you can’t wait to be crushed by it.

“Davíd Moralés.” 

And that bastard’s cock intentionally pushes against that spongy spot and you shriek. Honest to God, yell, as you come, with Dieter wrapped up against your back, sweat streaking both of you.

“Get down,” he hisses suddenly and almost throws you off him. You land on your back, your entire body pulsing as one single organism, and he grabs his cock in time to aim it at your chest. 

He comes, mouth open, eyes squeezed shut, as he sprays you with white ropes. It’s warm on your tits and you shudder through your aftershocks. You feel like you’re sinking into warmth as he keeps coming, your inner thighs drenched and dripping, and finally, he leans away and collapses on the bed next to you.

There’s ringing in your ears. 

You feel swollen all over, your nerve centers humming and firing and crackling as though someone whapped you over the head with a 500 volt electric baton. You want to keep sinking, keep drifting, keep existing in this warm, non-corporeal form. Everything feels so good here.

You had no idea you, or anyone else for that matter, could come that hard. 

“Holy shit.” 

You can’t help but grin through the short huffs of breath you swallow down in gasps. 

You want to sass him but it feels a bit like spitting in the face of God. “Yeah. Holy shit.” 

He sits up on his elbows, glancing over his side at you, the begrudgingly fantastic cock between his legs as deflated as you are. 

“Are you okay? Fuck, sorry, I got a little crazy there at the end.” 

You shake your fist loosely, with your thumb and pinky finger extended. “I don’t hear customer service calling. In fact, I think the line has been permanently disconnected.” 

You both laugh softly and his eyes roam over your face. This is why he only saw vampy women. It was easier to wake up to something almost over-the-top hot, than this. Than you, with your beautifully flushed cheeks, plump lips, and eyes that searched only for him. 

His gut twisted painfully. Okay, you nutted so hard you’re pretty sure your dick isn’t going to work for a week, now wake up. Wake up and smell the fucking arrest warrant. 

Uncle Dieter. You're his niece. 

What the fuck were you thinking? Where could this possibly go?

Instead of inspecting the small-starting-to-grow painful throbbing in his chest, he sits up and pleasantly inspects the mess you both made all over you. You follow his gaze, smirking as he intentionally smears his cum over your skin with his thumb.

“Oh, and that thing you did at the end, where you made me–,”

“Yeah?” He grinned wickedly, almost begging you to use your words, but you had been so good for him. He’d save that for later. “You liked that?”

“At the risk of sounding desperate, yes. A thousand times yes. But totally unfair and totally cheating.”

He snickers and leans down to your thighs. “Yeah, okay, Ms. I’m Not Wearing a Bra.” 

The smell of you is intoxicating and it’s drenching your thighs, the sheets below you. Maybe he could strip the bed before Maria came – oh, fuck, what if it’s in the mattress?

He hauls those thoughts out of his mind, his dick twitching uncomfortably, as he bends forward and licks the inside of your thigh.

“Oh my God, Dee, you can’t possibly be –,”

“Relax. I’m not. Just wanted to clean you up.”

He licks the drying liquid from your skin – you hiss, so very overstimulated – dragging his tongue up, never breaking eye contact with you as he slinks up your body, shoulders rolling – “Dee, wait, you’re gonna–,” and licks the cum off your chest. His own cum. 

“Oh, fuck, that’s nasty,” you murmur, eyes transfixed on his mouth as he swallows. He chuckles, finally deciding you’ve had enough for one night, and he leans forward and presses his lips on your temple. 

“I’m not ready, but it sounds like you might be.” 

He reaches back to the floor where his shirt was so casually discarded. He gingerly wipes your thighs, your hips, your stomach and chest. There’d be time for a proper wash later, but right now he thinks he’s going to pitch forward into unconsciousness in less than thirty seconds. His limbs are heavy, his eyelids are heavy but he can’t stop smiling.

You grin at him as he tosses the very used shirt back onto the ground and gets up from the bed to disappear into the bathroom. You roll onto your side, after unpeeling the bedsheets like you had done it a thousand times. When he comes back, you rub your face against his pillows and he realizes if he’s going to hoard the sheets, then he’s going to have to do the same to the pillowcase. 

“I’m not gonna wake up and find you mouthing that shirt, am I?” You ask, a smirk already cradling your lips. He huffs at you as he hands you a glass of water. You take it, gratefully, only vaguely aware that he probably did that kind of thing all the time with his other conquests. 

That thought threatens to sour your good mood so you put the glass back onto the bedside table and curl deeper into the sheets. 

He climbs in behind you, and rubs his nose over your shoulder and up into your ear, his hand spread across your hip. 

“Only if I wake up in the middle of the night and can’t mouth your tits.” 

He’s purposefully being sexy, being teasing, but there’s a question there. A request. A quiet ask that for all his thick dick swinging, doesn’t have the cojones to verbalize. 

 You smirk at him and roll back slightly to catch his mouth. You thread your fingers through his hair and squeeze once. 

“Baby, I couldn’t stand up right if I fucking tried.”

He grins, eyes warm. “Wow. Even if you fucking tried?”

God, this is such a bad idea.

“Even if I fuck-in’ tried.” 

But despite all his not-at-all begging, he wakes up alone. 

He wakes up in broad daylight – the storm had passed. Too bright light streams in from between the gray curtains, illuminating the one thing he never wanted to see: your side of the bed empty. 

His heart clenches so fast he thinks he might be sick. There’s real nausea as he stumbles to his feet and pulls his pants on from last night. He’s about to rush down the stairs, frantically flipping over everything in hopes of finding a note, even if it told him to fuck off. 

You’re twenty years older than me, you fucking creep.

Just wait until my dad hears about this. 

I never want to see you again. 

Just as his mouth dries up till his lips crack, he sees something on the other side of the bed that makes him freeze in his tracks. It’s your phone, plugged into the wall. He goes over and taps the screen. The battery has only 15%. 

And then a post-storm breeze rattles the patio door handle and it opens slightly. He sees your barefoot through the cut in the door frame. 

Holy fuck, you’re still here, just outside. 

Heart now jettisoning into his throat, he opens the door to a truly spectacular morning. His patio looks down to the freshly-washed Los Angeles, the sky a cobalt blue, the air cool and faintly smelling of rain. People run and lead their dogs through the streets and for a minute he thinks he can hear the ocean. 

But what makes it truly spectacular is you. Curled up at the small table in one of his white shirts and those sanctimonious shorts. You’ve got a cup of coffee in your hand and you’ve got his favorite book, Eco’s The Name of the Rose, lying flat beneath your fingertips. But you aren’t reading. You’re looking at him.

“Well, hi there. Did you dream you missed a flight?”

He blinks. “What?” 

“You just, sort of, rushed out here, looking like you forgot something.” You frown. “Is everything okay?”

He swallows and it’s all he can do to keep from dropping to his knees and pressing his face into your lap. 

“Yeah, fine, fine. All good. Fine.” 

You turn back to the book, staring at it as if it was giving you a pep talk. Then you shut it and turn back to him.

“So, um, last night . . .” 

Here it comes. I regret it, all of it. You drugged me and took advantage of me. I can’t believe that you would–

“Was great.” 

He swears he hears his blood rushing in his ears. You smile at him, but clearly uneasy. As if you are the one second-guessing it all. 

Fuck, Bravo, put on your big boy pants.

He pulls out the other patio chair and sits down next to you. He clasps his hands, leaning forward on his elbows. His rings clink together. He nods, trying to catch your eyes.

“Yeah. It was fucking fantastic. I mean it. One for the books.”

He waits for you to say but. 

You wait for him to say but.

Neither of you do. You grin and put your coffee on the table. 

“So, in the events of last night . . . surprisingly, I forgot to charge my phone.”

He doesn’t want to touch you because he thinks it might spook you so he runs his gaze over your lovely knuckles, your wrist. 

“Sounds like, then, you might need to stay awhile.” 

You swallow, unable to contain the growing smile on your face. You duck your head and he follows you and your breath fans his face. 

“Guess so.” 

If he tells it, he says he kissed you.

If you tell it, you say you kissed him. 

Doesn’t matter though. Doesn’t matter that the coffee grows cold and he ignites something in you that you didn’t know existed.

When he finally pulls away, he’s still smiling. 

“This might be a bit weird, but . . . wanna see my other kitchen?”

The End

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #dieter bravo #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #f!reader #the bubble fanfiction #dieter bravo fic #dieter bravo fanfic #pedro pascal fanfic #the bubble fic #the bubble fanfic

[builtbybrokenbells]

Picasso

after months of silent pining over the boy across the hall, y/n finds herself face to face with the one person she can’t seem to get off her mind. a friendly dinner and a night spent in the art studio leads to more truth being revealed than either bargained for. a profession of attraction leads to an opportunity for an unconventional hookup, where Sam gets to make her first time unforgettable.

COLLEGE DORM AU

Read aftermath here

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 15.5k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, fingering (f!receiving), oral (f!receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it, folks), virgin/virginity talk, losing virginity (sam the v card thief 🫣), praise kink, pet names, sexual anxiety/performance anxiety, soft gentle sex (fuck me up fr), fluff, swearing, anxiety, embarrassing crushes, sorry if I miss any!

😮‍💨 sorry this took so long folks. it’s a lengthy one, so prepare yourself. i got a bit carried away. soft Sam fucks me up real bad. hope you enjoy this as much as i loved writing it!! as always, be kind, enjoy, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes!!

~

You weren’t sure who he was. You had no idea where he was from, what he was studying, or if he even knew you existed. Still, that didn’t seem to stop the awkward staring, or the blushing cheeks, or even the speeding heart rate every time he came into your line of vision. You hated yourself for the uncontrollable longing you felt for the boy across the hall, knowing that you would forever be too nervous to approach first. The first few months of your university experience were relatively normal; meeting friends, studying relentlessly, and trying to navigate a brand new life that was so foreign from the last. Then, after the novelty of freshman year wore off, and the hallways were routinely more empty than you’d grown used to, you started to run into him.

The first time you saw him, you almost missed him. You only noticed the back of his head as he disappeared around the corner. But, almost as if fate was playing a sick trick on you, he happened to forget something in his room. When he came back around the corner, giving you the opportunity to see his face, it felt as though you’d received a punch to the stomach. Thankfully, he was in too much of a rush to notice your staring. His long, brown hair looked messy, yet perfectly styled around his slender face. His jawline was sharp, angled gracefully into a perfect chin. The space just above held his lips, a permanent upturn in the corner adorned on them, although barely noticeable in passing. His brown eyes looked inviting, a colour you could spend all day lost in. Once he passed you, you knew it was too late; you’d already fallen for him, and there was no escape.

Perhaps it was because you came from a small town, one where all of the boys looked like the same person, just in a different font. You’d never met a boy who caught your eye quite like he did. He had a charming aura without even speaking, which was impossible to attain, according to your standards. You never really wasted time on dating, more or less finding it pointless. You were well aware there was no person to find in your town that would work out long-term. You were never a date for heartbreak type, understanding that there was no need of having a relationship if you start it with a pre-existing condition that it will inevitably end. You had a few bad experiences with the boys you’d given a chance, and never tried again. It wasn’t worth the hurt, or the trouble, so you kept to yourself. But, whatever it was about the boy across the hall, you were certain if you ever got the chance, you’d want it to last a lifetime.

After the initial shock of seeing him, you seemed to notice him everywhere. Every time you left your room, his door was open, or he was in the hallway talking to his friends. He was always running into you at meal hall, taking post in your favourite spots in the library, and even in some of your classes. You had no idea how you’d gone so long without noticing him, because now, he never ceased to exist in your mind and your life. You’d never managed to get the nerve to speak with him, or even muster a wave when he passed by. The most the two of you shared was a smile each morning; which admittedly, made your day a whole lot better every time. As unfortunate as it was, the two of you had mastered the art of remaining strangers despite the constant desire to be more.

You never verbalized your feelings to anyone, not your friends, or even yourself. You thought it was a bit ridiculous to be infatuated with someone solely based on looks. Yet, you found yourself creating a fabricated version of him, one that you deducted based on what you noticed over the passing weeks. One where he was funny, in a sarcastic or a goofy type of way. One where he was very laid back, but very involved in the lives of the people he loved. And the worst one of all; one where he was fantastic in bed. You thought it was alright to daydream, even if you would never know for certain in this lifetime.

Despite your mostly quiet pining, everybody around you was well aware of how you felt about mystery boy. Your friends seemed to take extra measures to point him out in a public setting, or ‘unintentionally’ cross paths with him. They never admitted it, but you knew what they were doing. Instead of fighting about it, which would only give them the answer they so desperately wanted from you, you laughed alongside them at the ‘strange coincidences’. Although, one thing inherently positive that came from the whole ordeal, was that you’d made acquaintance’s with his best friend, Danny. You’d found out that he was also in a few of your classes, and lived on the floor above you.

He occasionally stopped by your room for a quick chat, or some help with projects. He was friendly, and tall, and quite attractive, too. You never mentioned his friend that lived across the hall, and he didn’t, either. As far as you were concerned, your friendship with Danny would remain just as such, with no hidden implications about the beautiful boy he spent most his time with. Never once would you ever want to make him feel like you’d become friends with him just to get closer to his best friend, because you didn’t. Any hello, or how are you, or any of the conversations you’d shared had always been because you wanted to talk to him. You liked him, and just so happened to find it much easier to strike conversations with him, too.

You walked down the hallway, pushing your way through the swarms of people preparing to leave for spring break. That Friday marked the end of classes for a week, meaning that lots of people were either packing up to return home for a few days, or headed somewhere much warmer to drink themselves into oblivion. You had opted to stay for the week, finding no real desire to visit your family, and having no available funds to travel the world. All of your friends were leaving, presenting a fantastic opportunity for you to catch up on some schoolwork. You keyed into your room, dropping your bag on your bed and kicking your shoes off. You threw on your slippers and took your hair down from its clip.

You walked into your bathroom, seeing a note stuck on the mirror. You pulled it off, reading over the scribbled words. Your suite mate had left for the week, wishing you a good time and telling you she’d see you soon. You smiled, slipping it into your pocket to add to your collection of first-year memorabilia. You had an elaborate final project planned for your introductory art class, and you were collecting as many pieces to add to it as possible, wanting nothing more than to make a showstopper. You fixed your makeup in the mirror and combed through your hair with your fingers, trying to sharpen yourself up after a long day of classes. As you returned to your room, you heard a knock on your door.

When you opened it, you saw a familiar, smiling face. “Well hello.” You said, pulling the door open fully.

“Hey, Picasso.” Danny greeted. “What are you up to?”

“Just got back, actually. I stayed late at the studio. Trying to get my practical piece done for my painting class.”

“I see. Have you started the essay for poetry?” You shook your head, stomach sinking at the thought.

“I was going to start that this weekend. I just picked my topic. I’ve got a couple years worth of Shakespeare sonnets to read.” Danny was an English major, and you were an arts major, but your classes seemed to cross due to your minor in writing.

“That’s such a cop out topic,” He teased, leaning against the door frame. “And it’s spring break, aren’t you supposed to be having fun?”

“Fuck you.” You laughed, waving your hand to invite him inside. “Spring break is only fun for rich kids taking business majors.” You joked.

“Us arts kids know how to have fun, too, you know. We don’t have to get on a plane to do that.” He reminded you, walking inside and taking a seat on your bed.

“Well, what about you, then? Any big plans?”

“Frankenmuth.” He said, trying to make it sound more exciting than it was. You raised an eyebrow at him, expecting something more to the statement, but that was all he said.

“Enthralling.” You laughed, taking a seat in your desk chair. You watched the people pass by in the hallway, no real thoughts in your head. “Just you going?” You asked, eyes falling on the door closed just across from yours.

“Yeah, my friends are gonna stay here. Just thought I’d go back and visit the parents for a few days. Don’t think I’m staying the whole week.”

“Nothing wrong with that, Danny boy.” You said, flipping your laptop open that was sitting on your desk. “When are you leaving?”

“Tonight, probably. I like driving at night.” You were okay with that, completely agreeing with his statement. There was something very peaceful about driving in the dark, especially when the roads are mostly barren. It was almost like time stood still. You knew the drive wasn’t too long for him, so you had faith he would be alright. “That’s why I came to see you.”

“You’re so sweet,” you grinned, opening Netflix and throwing on the most recently watched show. “Gonna miss me?”

“Of course, Picasso.” He said as if it were obvious. “Come with me, if you want.” He offered.

“You wouldn’t want me to tag along, your parents might like me too much.” He laughed at your words.

“And that’s a problem?”

“You wanna listen to them ask about me for the rest of your life?” You teased.

“Doesn’t sound like the worst thing in the world.” He shrugged.

“You’re too nice for your own good.” You chuckled. “As much as I would love to spend reading week with you, I very much need access to an art studio and shitty, free coffee refills from the library.”

“I know,” he assured you. “If you change your mind, offers there.”

“Thanks, Danny.” You said, more sincerity in your tone than before.

“The reason I came down here though, was to see if you wanted to grab dinner with us before I leave.”

“Us?” You questioned, cocking your head to the side.

“Yeah, me and Sam. I know you told me your friends already left, so I thought maybe you’d like some company.”

“Oh, so it’s a pity invite?” You smirked. He rolled his eyes.

“No, I want you to come. Thought that was kind of obvious.”

“Just pulling your leg.” You assured him. “Uh, who’s Sam?” You laughed, feeling a little ridiculous for not knowing. He watched you with confusion, waiting to see if you were joking.

“Sam? Kiszka? Like, the guy who lives across the hall?” He asked, completely baffled. “You don’t know Sam?”

“Oh!” Your cheeks turned crimson. “Yeah, I know who he is. That’s your best friend, right?” Danny nodded. “Yeah, I know him. Just didn’t know his name. Never really spoke to the guy.” You laughed, trying to pass off the awkwardness.

“Fuck, y/n, I thought you guys knew each other! I’m sorry I didn’t introduce him to you.”

“No! Don’t be sorry, Danny.” You waved it off. “I never brought it up, either.”

“That’s weird though, cause he definitely knows you. He knew who you were when I mentioned we were working together on that last poetry assignment. I was under the impression that you guys were neighbourly.” He shrugged, confusion still lingering in his features.

“Oh, uh… I guess my names on my whiteboard. Maybe that’s why. He’s definitely seen me around. We smile at each other and stuff in the halls, but that’s about it.” Danny eyed you almost as if he didn’t believe you.

“Well, he seems pretty fond of you for someone he only smiles at in the hallway.” You felt the blush rise to your cheeks again, embarrassed even at the thought of him mentioning your name. “You do know him, don’t you?”

“No, I swear I’m telling you the truth.” You raised your hands in defence. He watched you, scanning your face for a hint of a lie. After a second, his expression lit up.

“You have a crush on him!” He bellowed, feeling accomplished for finally solving the mystery. Your head whipped to the open door, making sure nobody was in the hallway.

“Shut up!” You hissed, making a move to shut the door. “I do not!” You said once you protected the privacy.

“That’s a lie, Picasso.” He let out a disapproving tsk.

“I don’t even know the guy.” You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, he’s attractive, but I can’t exactly like someone I don’t know.”

“Sure you can, and you do.” He grinned. “And you’ll like him even more after dinner tonight.” He decided.

“So now I don’t have a choice if I go or not?”

“No, not at all. I’ll leave you to get ready. He should be back around 6.” Danny stood, not willing to hear any protests.

“Danny, if you say anything to him, I swear to god I will kill-“

“Lips are sealed, Picasso. See you at six.” He sent you a wink before disappearing out the door. You felt your stomach twist in knots, nervous that Danny was going to mention something to him.

You distracted yourself by scouring your closet for something acceptable to wear. You cursed him for leaving so soon; he didn’t even tell you where you were going. You had no idea if you should dress nice, or casual. As you checked the time, you decided that somewhere in the middle would be suitable. A nice shirt and a pair of black jeans, just to dress it down a bit. You went to the bathroom and quickly ran your curling iron through your hair with no real effort, just to give it a bit of volume. You brushed your teeth and touched up your makeup again, spritzing on some perfume before you walked back to your room. You threw on some jewelry, deciding if you were going to properly meet mystery boy, or Sam, rather, you were going to make a good first impression.

When the clock struck six, there was an insistent knock on your door. When you opened it, Danny was beaming down at you once more. “You clean up good, Picasso.” He complimented. Rarely did he ever see you out of your studio clothes; you were always covered in paint, or plaster, or some other sort of artistic expression. You spent more time in the studio than you did anywhere else. Of course, the workload was heavy even for first year, but you spent a lot of free time there, too. It was great for your mental health, and aside from your projects, you made smaller pieces to sell on the side. Unlimited access to art tools was a huge benefit to going to the university you chose, and your talent allowed you to make some extra money. Making a living off something you loved to do made your university experience a million times better.

“Thanks, Daniel.” You laughed. “Ready to go?” You asked.

“Yeah, you?” You nodded. You threw on a denim jacket, finishing off the outfit. You joined Danny in the hall, looking around to spot Sam. When you didn’t see him, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of disappointment.

“Where are we going?” You asked, distracting yourself from the feeling.

“There’s this little Italian restaurant downtown. I’ve been meaning to try it, but never got around to it. Figured tonight was as good as any other night. Is that cool with you?”

“Oh, yeah. I’m not picky.” You assured him.

“Awesome.” He breathed, making a move to the other side of the hallway. He stood before Sam’s door, sending a knock echoing through the air. Within a few seconds, the door swung open to reveal the boy you couldn’t seem to get out of your head. His hair was slightly damp, and the smell of his shampoo hit you almost instantly. He pointed at you without a word, causing you to shoot him a nervous look. He got a small laugh at your reaction.

“You copied my outfit.” He accused, a goofy smile etched onto his expression. You looked down at what you were wearing, then back to him. You were both wearing Jean jackets with a black base layer. After a second, you laughed, too.

“Guess so.” You shrugged, trying to ignore the incessant butterflies running rampant in your stomach. “I’m y/n,” you held a hand out to shake.

“Sam.” He said, reciprocating the gesture. “I guess we’ve never properly introduced ourselves.” He noted.

“Not very neighbourly of us, was it?” You chuckled. His eyes lingered over you, taking in the whole sight before humming an agreement. You desperately tried to fight away the blush rising to your cheeks, but failed miserably. You hoped he didn’t notice.

“I hear from Daniel that you’re quite the artist.” He said, the smile never leaving his face. At his words, the redness on your cheeks completely took over, leaving no doubt that he could see it.

“Modern day Picasso, actually.” Danny corrected.

“You’ll have to show me, sometime.” Sam’s tone was soft, no tone of sarcasm present.

“Maybe I can sneak you into the studio someday.” You offered.

“It’s a date, then.” He said it so effortlessly, like the words meant nothing, but it set every nerve in your body on fire.

“G-guess so,” you tried to cover up your stutter, but they certainly noticed. You were thankful they didn’t comment on it. Sam stepped into the hallway, closing his door behind him. The three of you ventured towards the exit of the building without another word.

The evening was cool, but not unbearable. By the time you’d walked to the restaurant, you had managed to shake some of the nervousness off. The small chatter and jokes eased the tension by miles, allowing you to enjoy the company rather than fear embarrassment. Danny went inside first, Sam holding the door open for both of you. You muttered a small thank you, disappearing inside of the building. The smell of the food was fantastic, and the decoration and atmosphere was incredibly inviting. Danny noticed a ‘seat yourself’ sign, taking it open himself to lead the group to a booth. He slid in one side and you sat across from him. Sam looked between the two seats, ultimately deciding to sit next to you. The booth was tiny, and as he settled and got comfortable, his leg was gently resting against yours. You felt your heart speed, trying not to focus on the constant contact.

You all ordered after taking a good look over the menu. As you were waiting, Sam turned to you to speak. “So, Picasso,” he started. You turned your head to look at him, strangely pleased at the way the nickname sounded on his tongue. “Any travel plans for the week?”

“Oh, no.” You shook your head. “Love them, but my family drives me crazy, and I have too much work to get done to go anywhere else.” You admitted. “You?”

“No, I thought it was best to stay, too. I get what you mean about the family thing. Love them to death, but peace and quiet is nice, sometimes.” He chuckled. “Daniel will have to go on the journey alone.”

“So you guys are from the same town?” You looked between the two. They both nodded.

“Yeah, best friends since, what, middle school?” Danny laughed.

“Pretty much.” Sam agreed.

“That’s cool, actually. Nice that you guys have a piece of home here with you.”

“What about you? Any piece of home here?” You shook your head.

“No, and thank god there isn’t. Wanted to get the hell out of my hometown and start over. It’s worked so far.” You explained.

“Where are you from?” Sam asked, now intrigued.

“Arizona. Small town in the middle of nowhere, where everybody looks and acts the same and you get chastised if you’re any different.”

“Mind-numbing.” He replied. You nodded, unable to agree more. “Everybody needs originality.”

“Not them, apparently. I couldn’t wait to leave, and I never want to go back.” You almost shuddered at the thought.

“So where after this?” Sam never let his eyes leave you, as if he wanted to engrave every detail of your face in his mind.

“Uh, wherever, I guess. I haven’t really thought about it. I may travel for a while if I can before I commit to anywhere.”

“Smart woman,” he gave a small smile. “Know your options before you settle down.”

“Yeah, I suppose you could look at it that way.” Your conversation was interrupted by the waitress bringing drinks and setting them in front of you. You sipped from your straw, pondering what to speak about, next. “What are you taking, Sam?” You suddenly remembered you hadn’t asked him, yet.

“Oh, music theory.” He said. You eyed him in shock, not expecting that answer.

“What instrument?”

“Piano, on the paper at least.” He laughed. “I like playing bass and guitar more, but I figured they’d be more likely to accept me with piano as my focus.”

“Smart move.” You pondered the information for a moment. “Listen to this one,” you caught both of their attention. “So, Picasso, Shakespeare and Billy Joel walk into an Italian restaurant,” you started, causing a chorus of laughter from both boys.

“You play a piano once and you can never escape the Billy Joel jokes.” Sam shook his head, ghost of a laugh still lingering on his lips. You couldn’t help but admire him, feeling the overwhelming curiosity of wondering what it would be like to kiss him.

“You’ll be alright, piano man.” Danny assured him.

“Yeah, you can even sing us a song, if you want. That might make you feel better.” He shot you a look of warning, but there was visible humour laced in it. The both of you were feeling the nervous tension melt away more by the second.

The time passed too quickly for your liking; the meal was fantastic and the company was even better. When the time to leave came around, you were begging the clock just for another minute. You had spent the whole night beating yourself up for not getting over your fear and speaking with Sam sooner. Aside from him being incredibly attractive, he was funny, and charming, and quite sweet, too. You felt like you’d missed out on a lot. Even if nothing romantic happened, you’d could consider yourself content just being his friend. When the waitress brought the bills over, Sam took it upon himself to ensure you couldn’t get your hands on the debit machine. As you all filtered back outside into the cool night air, your feeling of nervousness returned. Looking at Sam, how the glow from the street lights casted over his face, how his hair flowed in solidarity, messy but perfect all in one, made you realize that knowing him only made the desire so much stronger.

Somewhere deep down you hoped he was an asshole, so you could finally shake the hopeless feeling of need for him. The more you talked to him, the more you fell for the goofiness of his aura, the humour he wore so proudly, or the kindness permanently anchored behind his words. He was more than just a pretty face, and to you, it was devastating. The last thing you wanted was to fall for someone, but you were well aware that it had happened long before your night of pasta critique. “You headed back to dorm?” Sam asked, his hand on your upper arm breaking you from your thoughts. You swallowed hard, trying to shake off your brains’ incessant reminders of what it felt like to be touched by him.

“Yeah,” you nodded.

“I’m headed out, now, I think.” Danny said, looking between the two of you. “Packed the car earlier, so I should hit the road.”

“Oh,” you breathed, trying to keep your eyes on him, and him only. “Which lot are you parked in?”

“The one by our building. I’ll walk back with you guys.” You nodded at his words, feeling a sudden rush of relief knowing you wouldn’t have to walk alone with Sam. Not that you would mind being alone with him, more of a fear of embarrassing yourself somehow. The three of you started the short walk with few words exchanged in the process. When you reached the entrance to the parking lot, you all stopped to bid a farewell.

Danny pulled you into a quick hug, thanking you for going to dinner. He hugged Sam, letting him know he’d text him when he was back home. “Might text for poetry help.” You smiled at him.

“You could text me just to say hi, too, you know.” Danny reminded.

“That is my way of saying hi.” You laughed. “Too nervous to be upfront.”

“No need for that, Picasso. I’ll see you guys soon.” He promised. You and Sam waved goodbye as he parted from the trio, leaving the two of you to yourselves. You kept your eyes glued to the ground, wanting to look anywhere other than his beautiful face.

“You have anywhere to be?” Sam eventually spoke. You found the courage to meet his eyes, feeling the butterflies erupt in your stomach once more.

“I was thinking about heading to the studio, actually.” You very much enjoyed your 24/7 access to the art building. It made your usually boring weekends a bit more enjoyable.

“Care for some company?” He smiled.

“You trying to get me in trouble, piano man?” You smirked.

“Nobody will ever know I was there.” He promised. You pondered the idea, realizing that it was more than likely nobody would be there, anyway. It was usually quite barren in the evenings, even more so considering the week-long holiday.

“Okay.” You nodded, holding your hand out for him to grab. “Come on.” He wasted no time slipping his hand into yours. You took off in a run back to the dorm with him following closely behind. You both made it to the front entrance of the building, keying in and immediately running to your rooms. “I just have to change.” You told him before disappearing into your room. You quickly changed into your work clothes, realizing how embarrassing the new outfit was. There was old paint stains on the t-shirt and jeans, years worth of artistic memories begging to be washed away. You didn’t waste too much time dwelling, too eager to be back in Sam’s company.

You were nervous to be alone with him, but the thrill of seclusion with him was overshadowing anything else. You thought maybe you’d be able to unravel some of the mystery, to get a chance to hear about his stories and memories that were hidden away. When you went back into the hallway, Sam was waiting for you. He had also changed into different clothes, a pair of sweatpants and a tattered old band shirt with the logo worn down to just a shadow. He had a sly smile graced his lips. “Ready?” You breathed. He gave a nod, silently hoping you’d reach out for his hand again. When you started walking down the hall, he followed after you, only momentary disappointment taking over.

You walked side by side to the art building, buzzing with unspoken excitement. When you reached the doorway, you scanned your access card on the reader and the lock clicked open. As you pulled on the handle, you looked back at him and pressed a finger to your lips, signalling for him to stay quiet, just in case anyone else was around. Regular students were allowed in the art building during office hours, but art students were the only ones granted access outside of normal school times. You were sure you’d only get a slap on the wrist if someone realized he wasn’t an art student, but you still didn’t want to take the chance. He nodded, ensuring he wouldn’t make a peep. You took his hand again, leading him inside and directly to the stairwell to the basement.

You took a sigh of relief when you let the studio door close behind you. You went right to your small locker where you stored your paint supplies and brushes. You unlocked it with a tiny key you kept around your neck. You pulled out your belongings, nodding Sam in the direction of the main room. The bright fluorescent lights were nothing new to you, but it seemed like it almost caught him off guard. You set your stuff down on a desk and grabbed an easel, carrying it over to where you were planning to sit. “I’ll be right back.” You told him, walking off to a side room. You opened the door, flicking the light on in the small storage space. You grabbed your large canvas, careful not to bump the front of it, worried it still may not have completely dried. You took it back out to the main room and propped it up on the easel, pulling a stool in front of it.

Sam moved a second chair over, sitting beside you. His eyes drifted over the artwork, scanning it intently and drinking up every detail like he needed it to survive. “I see why Danny calls you Picasso, now.” He mumbled, still looking over all of the details. You felt the redness creep up on your cheeks again, flattered at his compliment. “This place anything special to you, or just a stock photo?” There was a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Well, the cabin is. It’s my family’s. We spent a lot of time up there when I was a kid. The background is pretty dramatized, cause my inspiration pictures were a little bland.” You chuckled. “We’ve been working on landscapes, so I figured I would paint something meaningful.” The large oil painting had the image of the aforementioned cabin nestled in a plot of trees. The leaves were radiating the colours of autumn, and the neutral mountains in the background made the colours stand out. A small stream flowed through the mountain valley, and birds floated through the air. There were patches of flowery grass and bushes covering the ground. The outline was finished, and you’d been working on the intimate details of the piece. You were estimating only a few more hours of work, eager to have this finished so you could move on to the next project.

“It’s stunning.” He said, moving back to look at you again.

“Thanks,” your voice was soft, full of gratitude.

“Have you always wanted to be an artist?” He asked. You thought about the question, pondering the appropriate answer.

“I always loved art, but don’t think I actually decided to study it until late into high school. I never thought I’d be able to make it, but then I entered a few contests and won, and I guess it kind of kick started the process of getting here. At first, my parents weren’t super supportive of the idea. I think they’d rather me be a doctor or a lawyer, but they knew it would only make me miserable. Now that they see what I’m doing, and how happy it makes me, they’re a bit more on board. Their encouragement really helped me feel like I was supposed to be here.” You explained. “Deep down, I probably always knew I would do art for a living, but I fought it for a long time. It’s not really regarded as a ‘profession’, and I think that discouraged me for a long time.”

“Don’t ever feel that way again.” He shook his head, looking back towards the canvas. “Someone with talent like this should never second guess themselves.” You swallowed hard, having a difficult time digesting such a compliment. “This is the type of stuff to end up in galleries.”

“You’ll have to let me design your album art when you release your EP, then.” You smiled.

“You haven’t even heard me play yet.” He brushed the comment off, a small laugh lingering in his words.

“Don’t have to, I just know.” You said, pulling out your glass palate. You sifted through your bag of paints, choosing the colours carefully. You squeezed small amounts on the surface, looking back towards the large painting. You started to work, unsure of where the conversation would lead to next.

“What music do you like?” He asked, watching your hands as you painted.

“Everything.” You said, never losing your focus. “Not picky.”

“You have to have a favourite.” He inquired. A smile tugged at your lips.

“Well, yeah.” You rolled your eyes.

“What is it, then?” He laughed, eyes moving to your face.

“Guess.” You thought if he wanted to get to know you, he could work for it, first. At least a little bit.

“You’re a classical person, aren’t you?” You looked at him through the corner of your eyes, furrowing your eyebrows slightly.

“Insulting,” you replied. “You think I’m that boring?” You teased.

“Worth a shot.” He shrugged. “Rock?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I like metal, too, but I mostly stick with rock.”

“Never would have guessed the metal part.” His surprise was showing in his expression.

“Yeah, well, I have lots of tricks up my sleeve.” You chuckled, wiping your brush on your apron.

“Can’t wait to figure them out.” His words were smooth, concise, even, as if he was waiting to deliver the line the whole night. Your stomach fluttered with the thought of him wanting to know more about you. You both fell into a silence, eventually playing music off your phone to fill the stale air. You were fine without words exchanged; you enjoyed him sitting with you while you worked. He didn’t seem to mind either, enthralled in your technique. “What’s your favourite thing to paint?” He eventually disturbed the quiet.

“I like nature. It’s always so calming to recreate. So many different options, and imperfections don’t cause an issue, because nature isn’t perfect. I think that’s what makes it beautiful.” You explained. He nodded along, hoping you would keep talking. You noticed, feeling less reserved about your ramblings, realizing you wanted to share them with him. “Nature is the only constant. It was here from the beginning, and it will be here long after we die, even if it’s changed million times. It carries infinite memories from every era, and it’s our only consistency in this lifetime, and the ones previous. I like the idea of a timeless art piece. If someone looks at this a hundred years from now, they’ll be able to appreciate it the same way we can. Nobody will have to wonder about the origins of the picture. People die, animals pass, but the earth always outlives us. When the day comes and it dies, too, we go with it.” He nodded again, studying your face. He had been for a while, although you hadn’t really noticed. He was watching the way your eyes focused when you were doing delicate work, or how your lips pursed when your brush wasn’t doing exactly what you wanted it to. He also noticed every time you let out a minuscule sigh, content with the flow of the paint, or when you smiled when a familiar song came on the shuffle. He’d been studying you just as much as you did, him, admiring you just the same. He was enthralled in your presence, also never expecting to have you this close to him.

The art of your silent admiration had left little room for belief of a chance for it to happen so intimately. He was basking in the moment, in you. The smell of the paint and your perfume was embedding the memory in his brain forever. The beauty in your passion was electrifying, and he was certain he could watch it all day. He also felt the same when he passed you in the hallways, and caught himself peeking into your room when you had the door open. He felt the same fluster when you smiled at him, and awaited the conversations when Danny spoke your name. He also struggled with the idea of talking to you first, worried about rejection or embarrassment. From what he’d seen, you never showed an inkling of interest, and he didn’t want to come off in the wrong way. When Danny brought the idea of inviting you to dinner, he nearly jumped at the opportunity. Sam’s feelings had also remained quite silent, although his childhood best friend was quick to catch on to the situation. Now with a promise to both of you that your emotions would be kept a secret, it was up to both of you to figure things out. All Danny could do was cheer you on from both sides. “You’ve got a beautiful way of seeing the world.” He noted.

“If you don’t love the earth, you can’t expect it to love you back.” You said, finally turning to look over at him. You were caught off guard at his proximity, noticing he had definitely moved closer since you’d started working. He was sitting a little ahead of you, but his body was turned to be angled towards you. When he caught your surprised look, he gave a small smile.

“I thought you wanted to come and see the art, Sam.” You teased, finding the confidence to make a quick pass about his position.

“I’m looking at it.” He quipped back without a moment of hesitation. You opened your mouth to reply, but couldn’t find any words, flustered at the proclamation. Without another word, he turned to look back at the canvas, leaving you to wonder if his words were satire, or if they had meaning. You took a few seconds to recover, but ultimately pushed the statement to the back of your mind. You continued on, dabbing blots of paint onto the picture and blending it gently. “You know, if you’re looking for a customer, I’d be happy to take this off your hands when you’re finished.”

“You couldn’t afford me, Kiszka.” You joked, using the tip of your finger to get a better blend on a saturated area. You fixed it up with a brush afterwards.

“You think so?” He hummed, not bothering to turn and face you.

“I know so.” You told him, wiping your hand on the apron. You weren’t sure if it was the months of tension catching up to you, or the exhaustion, or the smell of his cologne, but you were desperate for him to turn and face you again. “If you want it, it’s yours.” You breathed, deciding to drop the facade. “Once it’s graded, I have nowhere to put it.”

“How much do you want for it?” He asked, still facing away from you.

“Free, for you.” You said softly, a smile creeping up on you.

“Absolutely not.” He turned now, finally meeting your eyes. “You worked hard on it, you used your own materials. I’m giving you something for it.” He said, finality dripping in his tone. You couldn’t help but shift under his gaze, the authority sending a pleasant jolt of electricity through you.

“Think of it as a token of friendship.” You whispered, unable to stop yourself from looking over his features. The admiration in your eyes was impossible to overlook.

“Friendship?” He questioned after a moment of silence, a new sense of confidence washing over him. “Ouch,” he said, the same cocky smirk playing on the corner of his mouth. You bit the inside of your lip, feeling your breath catch in your throat. You weren’t so willing to fall for the idea that he may have felt the same way. Instead of turning away, he watched you, hoping you’d make a notion of reciprocation. After the shock wore off, you started to understand that he was being serious.

“Courtship?” You corrected yourself, feeling your heart drumming against your chest.

“I think I like that better,” he whispered, eyes falling down to your lips for a second before correcting himself. “Do you?”

“I certainly don’t have an issue with it.” You admitted. He watched you carefully, almost as if he was nervous to advance the situation any further. After a moment of deliberation, he reached his hand up and cupped your cheek, using his thumb to wipe off a smudge of paint.

“Some paint,” he informed you.

“Oh,” you breathed, eyes never leaving him. “Did you get it all?” He inspected further, tucking some hair behind your ear as he did so.

“Mm, I think I missed a spot.” He deducted. You set your palate and brush on the table, not wanting to miss a moment of him. He advanced further, but only slightly, pretending to look harder. You couldn’t fight back a smile. “Want me to get it?” He looked back up at your eyes, hand never moving from your cheek.

“Okay,” you nodded, playing into his act.

“You sure?” He asked again, mostly to tease, but he also wanted to ensure you were comfortable.

“Positive.” You promised. Without wasting any more time, he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours.

It was soft, but his lips felt like they were burning into your skin. You reached your own hand out, letting it fall to the back of his neck. You pulled him closer, careful not to get any paint on his clothes in the process. He ran his tongue across your bottom lip, practically begging for more. You were quick to respond, parting your lips and allowing him to deepen the kiss. His other hand slipped to your hip, letting his fingers gently sink into the skin. When he pulled away, you were both breathless and craving more. He let his forehead rest on yours, dreading putting any more distance between your bodies. You gave a smile, unsure of what else you could do to express how you felt. It was like months of torture finally derived into pleasure. No more watching him as he walked past, wondering about his name or what it would be like to say it, or hear him say yours. No more wondering what it felt like to be kissed by him, because now, you knew, and it was way better than you ever imagined. “I’m not sure if I got it.” He admitted, causing a giggle from you. He pulled you in for another kiss, this one shorter and more lighthearted.

“Is it gone?” You asked, intoxicated from the feeling of his lips.

“If I said no, would you believe me?” You could hear his smile in his words.

“Yeah, just because I’d like to kiss you again, though.” His thumb trailed over your cheek as he rested his hand on your jaw. He placed a small peck on your lips, causing you to hum in satisfaction. “I wanted to do that for a really long time.” You said. He pulled back a bit, taking in your expression.

“Me, too.” He chuckled.

“Really?” He gave a nod.

“Since the first time I saw you.”

“Me, too.” You copied his earlier statement. “It’s been a long couple months of admiring you from a distance.”

“Why’d you never say anything?” He questioned, hand still keeping a delicate hold on your face.

“I was scared. Thought maybe you’d think I was weird, or you’d be an asshole. You’re too pretty to be nice, too. It’s not fair.” You laughed. “I didn’t even think you knew I existed.”

“How could I not?” He was almost offended at the thought. You shrugged your shoulders. “You’re the only person I’ve been looking at.” You felt your cheeks heat up again, angry that you couldn’t hide your emotion. “Danny’s been begging me to talk to you for weeks, but I guess I was scared, too.” It clicked in your brain, suddenly making sense why he was so excited when you told him you thought Sam was cute.

“Doesn’t matter,” You told him “We know now.” He nodded, agreeing silently. “Did you want to go back to my room, maybe?” You realized your statement was a bit forward only after you’d said it, but you didn’t really care. You were too caught up in the moment to worry about moving too fast, or any what-if’s. Your small amount of worry was subsided when he immediately stood, holding his hand out to you. You took it, letting him help you stand.

Both of you made quick work at cleaning up the mess you made, buzzing with excitement at the idea of being alone together. Within a few minutes, you had his hand in yours, and you were guiding him back through the unfamiliar building. You checked the main floor before you emerged, making sure there was no security checking out the place. You knew they could be assholes, and almost always asked for an access pass. When you deducted the coast was clear, you pulled him through the lobby and out the front door. You were both in a fit of giggles by the time you reached the dorm building, fumbling with keycards to let yourselves in. The hallways were barren, almost all of the students already gone for their spring trips. It made your journey all the faster, allowing you to make it to your room in record time without any interruption.

You opened the door for him, motioning got him to go inside first. He did so, eyes immediately taking in the sight. He’d caught glimpses of your room, but never got the chance to really see it. There was artwork plastered over the walls, some yours and some from your friends, or even reprints of famous artists. There were ambient lights bordering the ceilings, set to a constant colour. There were paintbrushes and textbooks littering your desk, along with a few empty coffee cups. There were a plethora of Polaroids hung on your bulletin board, a receipt book of memories from the lifetime he wanted to so badly know about. The smell of your perfume lingered in the air and your bed, although messy, looked extraordinarily inviting.

You gave him a small smile, nervous about what he was thinking. “I love it in here.” He said, almost like he could read your mind. You let out a small sigh of relief. His eyes drifted towards the small clay sculptures you’d been messing around with. He leaned closer, smiling at the intricate detail.

“You should come over more often, then.” You smiled.

“I think you’re gonna have a hard time getting rid of me, now.” He laughed. The sound was more beautiful than any you’d heard before.

“Fine by me.” You admitted. “I’m gonna change out of these. Just give me a minute.” He nodded, watching you as you picked some clothes from your closet. You brought them to the bathroom, changing into the shorts and t-shirt. You looked at yourself in the mirror, nearly wincing at the sight. You quickly fixed your makeup with your fingers and brushed your teeth. You sprayed a bit more perfume on the new clothes, and rejoined him. He was still standing awkwardly by your desk, unsure of where to sit. “You can sit on the bed.” You smiled, finding the timidity cute.

“Oh, okay.” He said, looking towards the mattress and sitting down.

“Did you want to watch a movie?” You asked.

“Sure.” He grinned. You went to your laptop, quickly logging in and pulling up Netflix. “I don’t care what we watch.” He admitted. You put on one of the first recommended movies, turning the volume up slightly. You climbed into bed next to him, propping a pillow against the wall and leaning back. He did the same, settling next to you, much closer than anyone else would normally sit.

The intro credits rolled for the movie, giving you a moment to relax from the close proximity. You leaned into him slightly, but not enough to make it obvious. You pulled your comforter over your legs, snuggling into the warmth. You let your hand rest on top of the blanket as you eyed his sitting in his lap. You’d been on dates, but not once since you moved away from your hometown had you felt so adolescent in romance. It felt like you were going through the motions for the first time, completely blind in knowledge. You had no idea how to approach him, how to initiate any of the intimacy you’d been yearning for. You hadn’t noticed you were staring at him, but he certainly did. He looked over to you, giving you a small, soft smile. In response, it made your heart skip a beat.

He took the opportunity to reach over and slip his hand into yours, giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. The contact immediately subsided your anxiety, and you finally felt the ability to focus on the screen. After a few moments, you even found the courage to rest your head on his shoulder. The both of you watched the movie in silence, his thumb rubbing small circles over the back of your hand while you did so. As the film progressed, so did your comfortability. By the middle of it, you both had shifted dramatically. He was laying down, and you were resting atop of him, head nestled in his chest. His palm was firmly planted on your lower back, and his other gently tracing shapes into your arm. If you weren’t so energized from being so close to him, you were certain you could fall asleep in that position.

His hand that was on your arm moved to your face, fingers gently pushing your hair away. You closed your eyes, revelling in the feeling. He gently combed through the knots before settling his hand back on your cheek. He guided you to look up at him, sending a smile your way. You returned it, thinking that you would be fine if his face was the only one you could ever see again. “Thanks for inviting me over.” He said, admiring every feature. He knew that you were beautiful from every time he’d seen you before that night, but he realized that he’d been missing out on the best part. Having you laying with him, sleepiness laced in your eyes, made him realize that there was never a time where you were more beautiful. The innocent intimacy was overwhelming in the best possible way, leaving him to believe he could die happy as long as he got to hold you.

“It’s crazy, you know.” You sighed, propping yourself up on your elbow to get a better look at him.

“Hmm?” He replied, fingers dancing in the ends of your hair.

“I spent so long with this stupid little crush. I think because of it, I kind of put you on a pedestal. I forgot you were a person, too. I never believed that I could ever be with you like this. It always felt impossible.”

“I did the same thing.” He admitted, feeling better about it knowing you felt that way, too. “It’s weird. Dating in college is so much different than high school.” He chuckled. You nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly.

“It feels more… adult. In high school, I had to ask my parents permission to go on a date. Now, I can just invite you over whenever I want.” You thought aloud. “But I don’t feel any different. I still feel the same as I did a year ago.”

“Yeah,” he breathed. “It’s strange, knowing that we’re supposed to be adults, now. Especially when I still feel like a kid.”

“I think it’s a good buffer period,” you shrugged. “Pretend to be adults, get the experience, but still be able to make mistakes and learn from them. We get to practice living alone and being responsible, but still get to do stupid shit.” He laughed at your comment, but understood your point.

“I like you, Picasso.” He said, his hand landing on the back of your neck. You smiled at the words.

“I like you, too.” You admitted, eyes trailing over his face in admiration.

“I think it would be cool if we could do stupid shit and learn from our mistakes… together.” He mumbled, gaze focused only on you.

“What are you saying, Billy Joel?” You smirked as he rolled his eyes at the nickname.

“I’m saying,” he paused, eyes flickering down to your lips for a moment. “I would like to do this…. more often.” He articulated his words carefully, a bit nervous to say them.

“I think that would be quite alright.” You deducted. He visibly relaxed at your confirmation. “I… uh, I’m not good at this stuff.” You admitted.

“That’s okay.” He said, tangling his fingers in the hair at the base of your skull. He gently massaged his fingers over your scalp, causing a slight hum of pleasure from you. “That’s part of the making mistakes and learning from them, right?”

“Yeah,” you whispered, entranced in the feeling of him touching you. “I’ve never really had a boyfriend, or anything like that. Been on a few dates, but they ended pretty terribly.” You admitted. He cocked his head to the side, studying you as you spoke. “Like I said before, all of the boys from my hometown are all the same. I learned my lesson, and I realized nothing meaningful would ever come from it, so I just… didn’t.”

“You can talk about it, if you want.” He offered.

“There’s really not much to talk about.” You told him, remembering back to your high school years. “I don’t know if it was just the type of people that lived in the town, or if it was a teenage boy thing, but they just cared about getting laid and nothing more. It was unbearable, and I fell for it a few times, but nobody ever cared about me past the surface. I’ve never met a boy who wanted to know me like you do, or would even admit that they liked me out loud, for that matter. Nobody has ever asked me questions about myself, or my art. It was nice being seen as a person rather than a body.” You muttered the last part, hating saying it aloud.

“They have no idea what they missed out on, then.” He said, bringing you closer and placing a kiss on your forehead. “I’ve only known you, well, really known you, for a day. I already know that I’d be more than lucky to have a chance with you.” Your cheeks turned red, luckily covered by the darkness of the room this time. “They didn’t deserve you. Nobody should make you feel like you can only be loved in privacy. You’re worth more than that.” Your eyes fluttered up to meet his as your brain wondered if the interaction was real, or a grandly fabricated dream. You leaned forward, unable to satiate the need to kiss him again.

He accepted the gesture enthusiastically, using his hands to pull you impossibly closer. You brought your hand to his face, cupping his cheek. After a moment, you couldn’t help but want more. You shifted, trying your best not to break the kiss, placing both of your legs on either side of him. He broke away for a second, just long enough to prop himself up against the wall so you wouldn’t be uncomfortable. He wasted no time, capturing you in another kiss. His hands found your hips, fingers holding you firmly but delicately all at once. You snaked your hand to the back of his neck, holding him like you were scared he would get away from you. When you pulled back, you were both breathless with stars dancing in your eyes.

“We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.” He said quickly, mind still occupied with the thought of kissing you. “I’m okay if we just lay here and talk.”

“I want to if you do.” You assured him, finally feeling the months of tension reach the breaking point.

“Are you sure?” He asked, searching your face for an honest answer.

“Positive.” You promised, making sure he saw you were being genuine. “I just… I’ve never…yeah.” You trailed off, suddenly a bit embarrassed. He watched you, trying to piece together what you were saying. “I’ve never had sex.” You blurted out, realizing he wasn’t fully understanding you. “I mean, I’ve done some stuff, but never…” you breathed, your face burning for a whole new reason.

“Hey, it’s okay.” He reached his hand to your face, keeping your head straight so you would look at him. You were a virgin in all technical terms, only having awkward sexual experiences and moments with failed flings in high school. It wasn’t a virtue thing, more of a feeling of never finding the right person. With him, you felt comfortable, and were certain that it would be enjoyable. You didn’t have to have experience to assume that. You could tell just by looking at him, by how he spoke to you. He cared about your comfortability, and that was a major green flag. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.” His tone was firm.

“No, I want to.” You said quickly, making sure he knew. “I just… I want you to have a good time, and I’m just nervous, I think. I don’t want to… disappoint.” He let out a chuckle, shaking his head at the blasphemous idea.

“Yeah, that’s not even a possibility.” He shut the fear down almost as soon as it sprouted. “I’m gonna have a good time because I’m with you.” He promised. “I don’t expect anything, or anything like that. I’m more concerned with you having a good time.” He said, bringing your face down to place a soft kiss on your lips. “We’ll take it slow, okay? Make sure you enjoy yourself.” He mumbled, his mouth only millimetres away from your own. “That sound okay?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, giving a small nod. You could feel his smile from as he kissed you again.

“You can tell me to stop, or slow down, or whatever you need at any point, okay?” He explained when he pulled back. You nodded. “You can tell me what you like, too. Don’t be shy.” You nodded again. “I need to hear the words, baby.”

“Okay.” You verbally confirmed. He tapped your thigh, silently letting you know he wanted you to get up. You did so, allowing him to move over to the side.

“Lay down for me,” he said, his tone had authority but it was incredibly soft, not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable. You laid back, eyes locked on his face. You were still anxious, but he was easing it more by the second. He turned onto his side to face you, guiding your face to his once more and connecting your mouths. You kissed him back with more neediness than before, excited by the idea of his hands on you. He slipped his fingers under the hem of your shirt, letting them dance over your skin so you could grow accustom to the feeling.

As he became familiar with the feeling of your body, he took his chance to deepen the kiss. You couldn’t help but let a few small moans of delight out, only fuelling him further. He went slow, working you up to speed. He didn’t want to rush you, or push you too far. He let you take the lead with progressing any further, waiting until you made a move to take an article of clothing away. When you tugged at the hem of his shirt, he moved back from you so he could pull it over his head. You let your eyes fall over his exposed torso, feeling your stomach flutter at the sight. He smiled at your expression, but didn’t say a word in fear of you feeling embarrassed. He made a move towards your waistband, watching your eyes intently as he did so. You gave him a nod of encouragement, letting him know you were okay. He hooked his fingers through the sides and slowly pulled the shorts from your body. You sat up and removed your shirt, too.

His breath caught in his throat at the sight of you in just your undergarments, having to do for a moment just to appreciate the view. “Gorgeous,” he hummed, lowering his head to you once more. He left a trail of gentle kisses across you collarbones, letting his hands trail over your exposed thighs. The minuscule touches were driving you crazy; you had no idea it could feel so good to be admired by someone. His lips moved downward, skipping over your chest and landing on your sternum. He started to get sloppier the further he progressed downwards. By the time he reached your navel, you were practically a mess. He looked up at you, eyelids heavy, taking in every detail of you. The way your chest rose and fell while you breathed, the way your lips stayed slightly parted, the way your hand felt tangled in his hair. It was driving him crazy.

He moved up again, motioning for you to lift your back from the bed. You did as he wanted, allowing him to snake his arms around you and unclasp your bra. He pulled it from your body, discarding it carelessly on the floor. He sucked a sharp breath through his teeth when he finally saw the full view. He was nestled between your legs, one hand planted beside you on the mattress, holding him up upright. His other hand returned to you, resting on your rib cage as light as a feather. He looked to you for permission before doing anything else. “I’m okay, I promise. I’ll tell you if I’m not.” You appreciated his consideration, but you were beginning to feel a bit desperate for more. He didn’t say anything, just brought his hand to your breast and brushed his thumb lightly over your hardened nipple.

The feeling was new, but very welcomed. The small touch sent a jolt of emotion through you. You watched him intently, anticipating his next movement. He brought his mouth to your nipple and pulled it into his mouth. You let out a shaky exhale at the sensation. He flicked his tongue over it a few times, really becoming familiar with you. When he pulled away, you couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed at the loss of contact. He smiled at your sigh of discontent. “Feel good?” He hummed.

“Yeah,” you breathed. He sat upright on his knees, bringing both of his hands to your hips and hooking his fingers through your underwear. You bit the inside of your lip, enthusiastic but still a bit nervous. You lifted your hips from the bed, allowing him to pull them off with ease. He tossed them to the floor, not caring where they landed. He was only concerned with you, now fully naked and laying beneath him. He caught sight of your face, noticing that your eyes were looking away from him.

“Hey,” he whispered. You finally found the courage to look up at him. “You okay, beautiful?” You were glad he disregarded your earlier statement, finding it much easier to communicate with him if he initiated it.

“Yeah, just nervous. It’s nothing you’re doing.” You promised.

“You want to stop?” You shook your head, unable to think of a worse idea. He didn’t immediately jump back to action at the expression, but spoke again after a few moments. “We’ll go slow, okay? This is for you. I wanna give you a good time.” You felt a smile growing on your lips at his words.

“Okay,” you affirmed. He leaned down, placing a soft kiss on your lips. You felt like you could live in that moment forever.

“Don’t have to be shy, or nervous. Promise I’m gonna take care of you.” He said as he pulled away. “Just tell me to stop, or slow down if you need to. You’re in charge.” You managed another nod as he sunk back between your legs. He laid on his stomach, head inches from your heat. You felt the anxiety lingering, but it was rapidly overtaken by excitement. He placed a few kisses on the inside of your thighs, one arm snaked under one of your legs and gently caressing the outside of your thigh. He brought his free hand to your cunt, fingers ghosting over the area. He looked up to you as if to ask permission. You gave him another nod, assuring him it was okay.

He slowly advanced, wanting to give you ample time to change your mind if you needed to. When you stayed quiet, eyes watching him with anticipation, he took it as a good sign. He ran his fingers through your folds, letting you get used to the feeling before doing anything else. You bit into the inside of your lip, trying to wrap your head around the unfamiliar sensation. It was definitely different when someone else was touching you, you noted. He gathered some of your arousal on his fingers. He spread the wetness to your clit, bringing his thumb to the sensitive area and slowly rubbing light circles into it. Your breath caught in your throat, the feeling taking you by surprise. His eyes flickered to your face, feeling a bit of satisfaction at the sound. You looked down at him, meeting his gaze and feeling a different type of pleasure at the sight.

“How’s that?” His voice was quiet, barely noticeable if not for your intent focus on his every action. “Does that feel okay?”

“Yeah,” you said, less enthralled in the movement of his hands than you were at the look on his face. He had a small smile playing on his lips, but the admiration for you he held in his eyes was worth more than words. He didn’t speak again, but kept his focus on the pattern of his thumb. He applied a bit more pressure, watching your face for a reaction. You let in a sharp intake of breath, feeling the sensation change from unfamiliar to pleasurable. His jaw clenched slightly, the sound running straight through him and settling in his bones. It was small, barely there, but it was blissful to his ears.

He worked at you for a few moments, gentle and loving with every move. It felt good, the nervousness almost completely gone, but there was enough there for you to hold yourself back. Your noises were limited, mostly from fear of embarrassment. You were so caught up in the worry of looking dumb that you were almost overlooking the scene before you. It didn’t deter him, though. If anything, it only drove him further. He was aching too hear the beautiful sounds begging to be let out, and he’d be damned if he couldn’t get them out of you. You watched him closely, not wanting to miss a moment of his presence. He leaned forward, letting a line of spit fall from his lips onto his fingers. You swallowed hard, the small action sending a rush of pleasure through you.

He ran his fingers through your cunt again, making sure the lubrication didn’t go to waste. His middle finger slowed and eventually stopped just before your entrance. “Tell me if you’re uncomfortable, okay?” He asked, but his tone was more of a demand. You nodded, too caught up in the idea of his fingers almost inside of you to worry about anything else. After a second, he slowly sunk his finger into you, studying you for any sign of discomfort. When you went without protest, he fully pushed his finger in, letting his thumb fall back on your clit. He continued his circles, now adding the stimulation of pumping his finger into you. You let a breathy moan out, unable to hold it back anymore. “That’s it baby,” he practically groaned, ecstatic to hear the noise. “You’re doing s’good.” The praise, although unexpected, was very well received. Knowing that he was enjoying himself solely by pleasuring you was a fantastic feeling. Knowing that he was only concerned with you feeling good was enough to satiate the anxiety.

He continued his pace for a while, eventually adding another finger when you felt you were ready. You were a mess, caught up in the pleasure but worried, too, because you hadn’t felt the creep of an impending orgasm. His hand was steady, never wavering, and his eyes were locked on you. Every so often, he pressed his lips into the skin on your thighs or your hipbones, just as a small act of affection. “Sam, I-I don’t know if I’m gonna cum.” You admitted, voice shaky and a bit defeated.

“You will,” he promised, unfazed by the statement. “Don’t be nervous.”

“I just…” you let out a sigh, frustrated with yourself. “It’s not you, it’s me.” He pulled back, halting his movements.

“I can stop if that’s what you want, baby.” His words were coated with sincerity. “Or are you just worried you can’t cum?” He inquired.

“I don’t want you to stop, I’m having a good time. I just don’t know if I can.” You explained, feeling embarrassment settle in your chest.

“I’ve got all night.” He said, shrugging off the worry. “Can’t think of anything I’d rather be doing.” He gave you a smile.

“I want you to have a good time, too, though.”

“Oh, I am.” His tone changed from gentle to firm. “Don’t worry about that.” You watched him with uncertainty, but the look in his eye was nothing but affirmative of his statement. “Don’t worry about anything. Just lay there and focus on how it feels, okay?” You nodded. “No worries about if you’re gonna cum or not, no worrying about me having a good time, just relax and enjoy the feeling. If you don’t cum, we’ll try again next time.” Your heard sped at the realization that he was planning on this being more than a one-time thing. It was comforting, knowing that he was learning about you so intimately, but wasn’t planning on running. He didn’t want to get your clothes off and never speak to you again like the majority of boys you’d ever known.

“Y-yeah, okay.” You replied. He cocked his head to the side, wondering why the hesitation was so present. “You, uh… next time?” He couldn’t help but grin at your question.

“I mean, yeah, if you want that, of course.”

“Yeah, I do.” You rushed out, hoping you hadn’t made him feel otherwise.

“Then it’s settled.” He hummed. “Not just the sex part, though. The dinner and the hanging out was great, and I’d very much like to do that, too.” You let out a small giggle at his words, finding the explanation cute.

“Me, too.” You assured him.

“Breakfast tomorrow?” He asked, a smirk on the corner of his lips. He started to move his fingers again, taking you by surprise. You let out a gasp at the suddenness, immediately feeling the pleasure return.

“S-sure,” you breathed, giving him a nod. He decided to stop messing with you, wanting to ensure you were as comfortable as you could be. He worked himself back up to his earlier pace, making it nearly impossible for you to think of anything else. He let another trail of spit fall onto his fingers, making sure it wasn’t too dry for you.

After a few moments, you did start to feel a little less insecure. His eyes were watching you, studying every minute detail. He noticed the rise and fall of your chest speed as he continued pumping his fingers in and out of you, the way you occasionally pulled your bottom lip between your teeth in attempt to silence yourself. He watched how your eyebrows furrowed slightly when he brushed over your clit just right, and how your eyes stayed almost permanently shut. He thought you were the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. Eventually, a blissful moan slipped from your mouth as his fingers hit the perfect spot. His eyes rolled back slightly, soaking up the sound. “That’s it, baby.” He encouraged you, fingers never stopping.

The words of motivation helped ease your tension. Your stiffness dissipated, your shoulders relaxing back on the pillows a bit. Your neck let your head fall back, leaving you completely at ease for the time being. A few more short-lived moans fell from your lips, all hitting him with a stronger force each time. “Doing so good, princess.” He said, noticing the effect his words had on you last time. “Cum for me, baby. You can do it.” He whispered. The demand went straight to your core, and you started to feel a sensation grow in the pit of your stomach. It was a feeling you’d only ever given yourself; it was way more intense when produced by another person.

“Fuck, Sam.” You whimpered, a gentle warning that you were getting closer. His heart drummed against his chest, clearly excited at the obscene proclamation. He took a risk, removing his thumb from your clit and lowering his head until his lips were touching you. You didn’t realize what he was doing until his tongue darted over the sensitive nerves, causing an involuntarily buck of your hips. He used his hand that was hooked under your leg to hold you down on the mattress.

Your fear of not being able to cum was quickly diminished with the new, even more unfamiliar feeling. It was heavenly. You let a low groan out, feeling the knot in your belly tighten. You slipped your hand down and tangling your fingers in the roots of his hair. He pulled his mouth off you only for a second, just to get one more praise in. “Taste so good, princess.” He said, slipping his thumb back in place of his mouth. You could only whimper in response, already missing the feeling of his tongue. “That’s it, baby. Look at you,” he whispered the last part more to himself than anything else. He only let his eyes hover over your expression for a moment longer, returning his tongue to you.

It didn’t take long to get to where he wanted you to be. Within a few minutes, you were gripping at his hair, panting and moaning, your orgasm begging you to let go. His tongue was moving at a steady pace, and his fingers curled with every re-entry, hitting a spot inside you that nothing ever had before. You let your head fall back, feeling the pressure reach its peak. A wave of pleasure overtook you, setting every nerve in your body on fire. You managed his name through the slur of moans, clenching around his fingers as you came. He only tapered his speed when the intensity began to die down. He removed his mouth first, then slowly pulled his fingers from you. His eyes flickered towards your face, lust clouding his eyes as he did so.

He slowly moved upwards, placing a few kisses over your collarbones and up onto your neck. You finally found the strength to open your eyes and look to him. He caught your gaze and gave you a dopey smile, eyelids heavy and your arousal glistening on his lips. “That’s my beautiful girl,” he hummed, wiping his chin with the back of his hand before leaning in for a kiss. “I’m so proud of you.” He whispered as he parted from you. He placed another kiss on your lips, sweet and full of emotion. The anxiety that had been plaguing you on and off was now gone, replaced solely by a desire for him that you’d never felt for another person before. “Did that feel good?”

“So good, Sammy.” You said, your lips still ghosting over his. You could feel his erection straining against his sweatpants, pressing into your leg.

“My name sounds so good when you say it like that.” He sighed, one hand roaming your exposed torso. His touch was light, tickling the sensitive skin over your rib cage as he did so.

“Thank you,” you whispered, resting your cheek against his, basking in the affection.

“Don’t have to thank me, princess.” He replied. “If anything, I should be thanking you.” You let out a small laugh at his words, finding his gratefulness charming. You reached up and cupped his cheek in your hand, lifting your head to pull him into another kiss. He was hesitant to let you go when you pulled away.

“Do you wanna…?” You trailed off, feeling a bit too embarrassed to finish the sentence.

“Do you?” He asked.

“Yeah,” you breathed, never more sure of yourself in your whole life. He gave you a smile, making a move to stand. He undid the drawstring on his pants, then pulled them down, ridding himself of them and leaving himself clad in only his boxers. You couldn’t help but stare at him, eyes wandering but eventually settling on the bulge barely contained by the fabric. He noticed your stare, a smirk making its way back onto his lips.

“Condoms?” He asked, catching your attention. Your eyes widened, realizing that you didn’t have any.

“Oh, I uh- I didn’t really expect… I don’t..”

“That’s okay,” he chuckled. “I have some in my room. I can go get them.” You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy, realizing that he’d been keeping them for a reason. You pushed the thought away, not wanting to focus on the idea of him being with someone else. He was here with you, and that’s what mattered.

“I, uh, I am on birth control, if you’re clean.” You squeaked, slightly embarrassed at the statement.

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.” He said, his tone firm.

“Yeah, I am.” You assured him. “Like I said, as long as you’re clean.” You repeated the earlier comment, just wanting to be sure.

“I am,” he promised. “It’s been a long time since… yeah.” He let out a small laugh. You couldn’t help but feel better knowing he hadn’t been sleeping around, either.

“Then yeah, I’m okay with it.” He gave a nod, making a move to take off his boxers. You watched in admiration, excited to finally see him the same as he was seeing you. He kicked the fabric with the rest of the growing pile of clothes. He stepped back towards the bed, noticing your eyes never leaving him. “You’re… very pretty.” You whispered, unable to find any better words to describe him.

“I think you’re very pretty, too.” He smiled, nestling back between your legs as he grabbed a pillow from beside you. “Lift your hips up, princess.” You did as he said and he slipped the cushion underneath you. “Should make it a bit more comfortable.”

He guided your legs up slightly, not enough to bend you in an awkward position, but enough to make it easier for both of you. “Will it hurt?” You finally blurted out, the question begging to be spoken all night.

“May be a bit uncomfortable at first, but I’m gonna try my best to make sure it doesn’t.” He said, catching your gaze. “We can take it as slow as you want. If you want me to stop, just tell me.”

“Okay.” You replied, voice quiet. You were nervous, but very aware that you were in good hands. It was his only intention to make sure you enjoyed yourself. You watched as he spit on his hand, rubbing himself for a moment.

“You okay?” He asked, wanting to be sure.

“Yeah.”

“Don’t be scared to talk to me, baby.” He reminded. You nodded, eyes only focused on his hand that was he was stroking himself with. He moved a bit closer, letting the tip of his dick rest against your entrance. He let you get used to the feeling before going any further. “You tell me when you’re ready.”

“I am.” You weren’t lying; the anxiety and nervousness was fully expected, but you were more than ready to have sex with him. You were sure of that before you’d even spoken with him, and it was only solidified further when you saw how accommodating he was being with you. He waited for any hesitation, but when none was given, he slowly pushed his hips forward.

You closed your eyes, trying your best to stay relaxed. He only pushed in a few inches, wanting you to adjust before continuing. “That okay?” He asked. You nodded, reaching out for his hand. He took his own from your leg and accepted the offer, intertwining his fingers with yours. He thrusted forward a bit more, studying your expression for a hint of discomfort. When he bottomed out, you let out a small sigh of relief.

“Not as bad as I thought it would be.” You noted. He laughed quietly, happy you thought so.

“You’re doing so good.” He whispered. “You feel so good.” His words sent a jolt of arousal through you, enjoying the praise more than you imagined you would. He slowly built up a pace, moving his hips with caution. Once you’d fully realized the sensation was less than uncomfortable, you relaxed against him. After a few more moments, you began to enjoy the feeling.

“You can go faster,” you sighed, a ghost of a moan in your words. He was hesitant to do so, but he gradually sped his thrusts, admiring your expression. When he clued in to the fact you were enjoying yourself, he couldn’t help but let a groan escape his lips. Your eyes snapped to his face, thinking that was the most beautiful sound you’d ever heard. His pleasure ridden expression was enough to induce an orgasm on its own, you deducted.

He reached his hand between your legs, letting his thumb find your clit again. He continued his pace, now applying light pressure onto the sensitive bundle of nerves as he circled his thumb. The combined sensations caused a moan from you. Your fingers tightened against his hand, a silent expression of pleasure. “Fuck, Sam.” You sighed, letting your head fall back onto the pillows.

“Look so pretty like this, baby.” He mumbled, trying to keep the speed of his hips and his hand the same. The pet names were unexpected, but you loved hearing them come from his mouth, especially when they sounded like that. “Wish I could have you like this forever.” He sighed, losing himself to the feeling a bit. It didn’t take long for another knot to form in your belly. With the consistency of his movements, it was much easier to get there than it was the first time. Sam noticed the slight change in your demeanour, the increase in the noises you were making. He focused on your face, wanting to watch you this time, feeling a bit cheated out of the moment the first time. “You think you can cum again, princess?” He asked, eyes burning into you.

“Y-yeah,” you stuttered, looking up at him. “Feels so good, Sammy.”

“Come on, baby.” He sounded as if he were begging you. “Doing so good for me.” With his encouragement, you felt your orgasm creep up again. You tried your best to keep your eyes on him, wanting to appreciate him as much as possible. He sped his thumb slightly, causing your breath to catch in your throat. His gaze never wavered, an unspoken plea for you to let go. It only took a moment before you came the second time. Your head fell back again, eyes screwed shut and mouth permanently agape. His jaw was clenched, holding himself back from his own release at the sound of you crying his name. “That’s it,” he moaned, wishing he could engrave the picture in his mind forever. As much as he wanted to cum, too, he was hoping to get one more out of you before the night came to an end.

The pressure from his thumb lightened, but his thrusts sped. You didn’t have time to recover, unlike the first time. The sensitivity was overtaken by the pleasure of him inside you, making it the only thing you could focus on. You looked back at him, realizing your mistake as soon as you did. He was still staring at you, eyes now a bit feral. The muscles in his jaw were taut, and he was quite unfamiliar to you, now. Although different, not in a bad way. It was intense, but far from menacing. You were captivated in the details of his stare, finding yourself unable to look away. He was breathtaking, and you couldn’t believe you were lucky enough to have him in such a way. You couldn’t believe that you had the power to drive him to such a feeling.

“You can give me one more, baby, I know you can.” His motivation was clouded with a bit of dominance, giving you the impression that he wouldn’t be pleased with himself if he couldn’t give you another orgasm.

“I don’t know, Sammy.” You groaned, unsure of yourself but still fully immersed in the feeling of him inside you.

“You can, princess. You can do it.” His chest was heaving with every breath, partially due to his movement, but more to do with desire. There was a glisten of sweat on his forehead, illuminated by the dim light flooding through the window. You didn’t think you’d be able to cum for the first time, let alone a second, or a third. The only anxiety you had left in your body was one fearing you’d leave him disappointed. Rationally, you knew he’d be content with whatever happened, but the louder part of your brain craved to give him exactly what he wanted. It wasn’t out of fear, but solely because you wanted to. From the minute he’d given you that first stupid smile all those months ago, you knew you wanted to be exactly where you were at that moment, and you’d be damned if you didn’t give it your all.

His patience and gentleness with you the whole night was endearing, but for you, the novelty of it being your first time had worn off, and the months of sexual tension was reaching its peak. You were both completely starved for each other in the best way possible, neither of you wanting to disappoint. Sam kept his pace steady, his thumb pressing into your clit again. To both of you, the idea of another orgasm not being reached was out of the question. “I can, but you have to cum with me.” You begged.

“That’s what I like to hear,” he grunted, letting out a long exhale. He knew that wouldn’t be an issue, he’d been holding himself back from the minute you’d started fucking. He rationed with himself as another string of moans left your lips, forcing himself to believe that waiting would be far more satisfactory than finishing before you. “Cum for me, angel.” The new term of endearment was unlike the others; this one hit you violently, such a graceful term for such a filthy display. You let out a cry of pleasure, your third climax hitting you without warning. It washed over you with necessity, as if you needed it to survive. He finally let go of your hand, fingers finding your hips to hold you on him as he came, too.

The room echoed with sounds of pleasure and obscene words, the essence of the moment settling into the walls and solidifying its place. The memory would never leave, and you wouldn’t want it any other way. He let out a sigh, finally losing his composure and resting gently atop of you. He placed tender kisses along your collarbones, small gestures of affection and appreciation to let you know he still meant everything he said to you. After you both came back to reality, he slowly withdrew from you. He tried to keep the mess minimal as he did so, wanting to keep the cleanup simple so he had more time to hold you before the night was through. “You should go pee, don’t want you to get a UTI.” He mumbled. You managed a nod, sleep calling to you like never before. Your mind and body were beyond exhausted, unable to keep up with the whirlwind of events.

He helped you up and to the bathroom, leaving you to your business. You cleaned yourself up and removed what was left of your makeup before returning to him. He gave you a dopey smile and a kiss on the head before going to do the same. You took a seat on the bed, mind still buzzing with excitement at the thought of what happened. When he came back out, he pulled his boxers back on and picked up his t-shirt from the ground. He handed it to you, almost nervous of rejection. You took the piece of clothing and slipped it over your head, more than happy to be wearing his clothes. “Did… did you maybe want to stay with me tonight?” You asked, nervous he’d say no. He took a seat beside you, pulling you into his arms and laying you both down on the mattress.

“Was hoping you’d ask.” He mumbled, pulling your back to his chest. He nuzzled his head into your neck, not caring about the tickle of your hair on his face.

“Thank you,” you finally said after a few long moments of silence.

“What are you thanking me for?”

“I don’t know,” you laughed. “That was… fantastic. You were fantastic.”

“I’m just happy you had a good time. That’s all I wanted.” He hummed, hand snaking under your shirt to rest on your stomach.

“I really did. I.. uh, wanted to do that for a while.” You said, rolling your eyes at your own awkwardness.

“Oh, yeah, me too.” He said, as if it were obvious. “All year I felt like I was in middle school again, crushing on the prettiest girl who didn’t know I existed.”

“I knew you existed.” You whispered, calmed at the knowledge you’d both been feeling the same way. “I thought the same about you.”

“Seems like we were both a bit dumb, then, Picasso.” You could hear his smile in his words.

“Guess so, piano man.” You both fell into a silence again, but like all the other ones, it was nothing short of comfortable. You felt yourself melt into his touch, sleep begging you to close your eyes.

“You’re okay, though? You’re not sore, or anything? You’d tell me if you were, right?”

“Yeah, I am, Sammy. Promise.” You reassured him. He’d done an excellent job at taking care of you and ensuring you were comfortable. It was the best possible scenario you could have imagined for your first time.

“That’s good, I just want to make sure.” He whispered. You settled into the mattress, prepared to go to bed. “So, if we’re talking experience wise, like a three star review?” He broke the quiet once more, causing both of you to fall into a fit of laughter.

“Mmm, I was thinking more of a five star, actually.” You pretended to ponder.

“Don’t stroke my ego, Picasso.” He dismissed the compliment.

“Maybe we’ll have to try it again sometime, then I can give a proper review.” You moved your hand under your shirt, too, resting it on top of his. He laced your fingers together, more than accepting of the contact.

“I think that would be quite alright.” He placed a kiss to your neck, just below your ear. It sent a shiver down your spine. “So it was good enough to make you want to do it again,” he noted. “I’ll have to put that one on my resume.” You laughed, shaking your head at his antics.

“Goodnight, piano man.” You said, finality in your voice. He propped himself up, trying his best to lean over you for another kiss. You turned your head back to meet his lips, much more confident in the action, now.

“Goodnight, Picasso.” He settled back in behind you, closing his eyes, too. “I can’t wait to take you to breakfast in the morning.” No more words were exchanged, but you both fell into a slumber with a permanent smile stuck on your lips.

#greta van fleet #danny gvf #sam gvf #gvf #danny wagner #jake gvf #jake kiszka #josh gvf #sam kiszka #gvf fic #josh kiszka #greta van fleet smut #greta van fleet fluff #greta van fleet imagine #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet fanfic #sam kiszka smut #sam kiszka fic #gvf imagine #gvf smut #gvf x reader #sammy gvf #gvf fanfiction #sam kiszka x reader #fic #my fic #my writing #builtbybrokenbells #builtbybrokenbells fic

[steddieasitgoes]

Busker Eddie who always sets up right outside The Harrington and Son Law Firm because the overhang of the tall building gives him the best acoustics, and it’s right across from the subway line.

Sure he has to deal with Mr. Harrington calling the police on him for soliciting every time he shows up. But the tips he makes are worth it. Plus, he’s managed to win over the chief of police Hopper, who never writes Eddie up. He thinks it’s because Hopper has some kind of feud with Harrington, but he doesn’t ask. It’s better not to get involved.

Eddie’s busking his heart out one day. Giving his all to a small group of tourists gathered around him when a Young Suit marches over to him. Fights his way through the tourists, gets his hands on Eddie’s shirt, and yanks him away from the crowd.

The Young Suit is dressed like all the other suits who sneer at Eddie as they head into the building every afternoon. But this Young Suit doesn't look anything like the rest of them. His hair is fluffy and styled to perfection, nothing like the clean-shaven and buzzed heads Eddie's used to. His walk is a little less polished, dress shoes a size too big on his feet, Eddie guesses. But it's his eyes that really give him away. They're not dark and dead like every other suit who sold their soul to the devil. There's a glimmer of life behind this guy's eyes, enough that Eddie doesn't immediately start his rant about how lawyers are the devil reincarnated.

He still gives him shit though.

"What the fuck man?"

"Look, I don't want to do this," Young Suit says, running a hand through his hair. "But my dad's ready to throw the fax machine out the window if you don't leave so can you please find somewhere else to busk?"

Dad, huh?

Eddie can work with that.

"Ah, so you're the son in Harrington and Son's Law Firm," Eddie says, a salacious grin appearing on his face. "Sorry, Harrington Jr., but no can do. This is my spot. Tell daddy I have the license to prove it."

Harrington Jr. sighs dramatically before his hands land on his hips. He looks like an exasperated soccer mom.

A cute exasperated soccer mom.

Oh.

Oh no.

"Could you at least change the days you're here then?" Harrington Jr. asks. "My asshole dad never works on Mondays and Tuesdays. If you busk those days, I'll make sure no one calls the cops on you."

"Like I said, no can do," Eddie says, casually. "I make most of my rent money on Thursdays and Fridays. Daddy dearest will have to deal with it."

"Don't do it for him, do it for me."

"And why would I do anything for you?" Eddie asks, caught off guard for the first time in a long time.

Harrington Jr. gets a wicked look in his eyes. Lips twitching upward in a smirk that has Eddie's knees seconds away from buckling.

"Because I actually like your voice and want to hear more of it without my dad screaming and threatening violence in the background," he says, laying the compliment on thick. "I can also make it worth your while."

"How do you plan on doing that?"

"I have a friend who works at the club on 9th. One phone call and you can be performing on a real stage for people who don't smell like stale subway air. You're too good to be performing on street corners."

The offer is tempting, it is. But Eddie can hear his uncle's nagging voice in the back of his head. The one that tells him not to take offers from strangers, especially not pretty ones who can't be trusted.

"Tell you what, Harrington Jr." Eddie flirts. "I'll think about it, while I finish my set. Till then, I'm not leaving. "

"Better keep watch for flying fax machines then," Harrington Jr. sighs again, finally dropping his hands from his hips. He turns to go back inside but stops abruptly, digging in the pockets of his pants before pulling a thick wallet out. He leafs through it before tossing an impressive stack of bills in Eddie's open guitar case.

Eddie waits for him to say something else, but he never does. Just stuffs the wallet back in his pocket and drags himself back inside the building.

When Eddie's sure Harrington Jr. is back inside, he kneels down to inspect his earnings. He nearly passes out when he spots three crisp hundred dollars bills lying under a business card that reads:

Steve Harrington Associate Lawyer Harrington and Son Law Firm 646-442-8422

Well played, Eddie thinks as he pockets the business card with Steve's number. Well played, indeed.

#steddie #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington ficlet #eddie munson ficlet #stranger things #stranger things ficlet #busker eddie #lawyer steve #are those tags? they are now lol #dani writes

[ginsengkitten]

༺ Beautiful Dangerous ༻

A slashxreader fanfiction

༺☆༻

Chapter Seven

Rocket Queen

wc: 2800

smut warning

The one y’all been waiting for lmao

The anticipation of seeing Slash again was completely palpable. You bee lined your way to the stage door. A familiar sight of a dark alleyway surrounded by shady figures. But this time you felt less….afraid. All you could think about was him. You felt brave enough to let yourself in the stage door after a random crew member leaves and you slip your way inside. The backstage was a dark seedy cavern of chaos and crewmen. You feel a large heavy grip on your shoulder. You turn around hoping it’s him but are disappointed to see a large intimidating bouncer. “No groupies back here girl. “ he bellows. “It’s cool she’s with me.” A voice says from behind him. The bouncer doesn’t care much to verify that and walks away. “Looks like you found your own way in then.” He smirks as he approaches you. He’s almost stunned and takes a second to examine your obvious style change. His eyes eat up your body from head to toe and you blush. You pull nervously at the edge of your mini dress. Almost confident but not quite. “Look at you Foxey…” He says quietly eyeing you. As much as you want to be simply eye candy, you want to get to the bottom of his query of inviting you tonight. You nervously cross your arms. “So….you called…” you start

“I called.” He confirms cheekily, still eyeing you.

You shift anxiously. “ ….so?”

“So?” He replied again even cheekier.

“Soooo- is there something you wanted to tell me or?” You pry, desperate for answers.

“Does there have to be something to say? Cant a guy just want to see a pretty girl?” He replies boldly smirking down at you as he walks closer.

You nervously look around the two of you to confirm no one is witnessing this private moment.

“Follow me.” He turns sharply and heads to the back of the stage. This backstage was different. It was larger and had rooms. Private dressing rooms. While not fancy by any means. You follow discreetly behind him into a main sitting area where the rest of the band was passing around a bottle of whiskey. You join them. Slash taking a widespread seat on the couch and pulls you on his lap. This time, less layers of clothing lie between you and him. You could feel him underneath you. Hard.

Knowing and feeling this gave you a jolt of electricity and heat in the pit of your stomach. Did you sitting on his lap feel good to him?

“Our groupie returns!” Axl proclaims excitedly. “Fuck you.” Slash laughs. “Oh Right boys, this is slashes special toy, don’t be messin with her now or Slash will kill you in your sleep!” They joke. You wonder if they are at all serious. Special toy?

Slash snakes his arm around your waist from behind and holds you on him. This touch gives you butterflies. You need more of this, of his touch. As the conversation peters onward you can’t help but want things to go in a different direction. You start making small adjustments on his lap, slight shifts in movement that gave friction to him. You can tell it startled him in a good way and he tightens his grasp around your waist in response. He felt good underneath you like this. While you had never been sexual with a man before, all of this felt and flowed naturally for you.

You got more brave and decided to start tracing the denim seam on the outside hip of his jeans. A simple yet effective choice. You wanted him to know what you wanted but were too shy to say. What you’ve been wanting. The rest of the group too drunk or pumped up to notice or care, the backstage lights low gave way to much more freedom in the low light. As the conversation loudly carried on, the two of you slip into your own exchange. He leans you back on him so that his mouth is next to your ear. His warm, cigarette flavored breath heavy on your ear as he whispered to you. “Need something Foxey?” He whispers sultry. His words and cadence makes you weak. A feeling of warmth between your legs as his words warmed your ear. You can’t help but smile mischievously. Torn between the nerves of having never gone to such sexual lengths with a guy before and the animalistic ferocity that was taking you by storm.

You look to him. He looks at you with a bloodthirsty gaze. The two of you in a mutual agreement of sorts. He returns back into the conversation at hand. His hand wrapped at your waist begins drawing little circles in the side of your dress. Casual to any outside but agonizing to you. His reply in this little game. The group is getting up to go somewhere. “We’re gonna hit, you coming?” They ask as they all round up to visit the bathroom together. “We’re gonna hang back.” Slash says. Once they file out of sight it takes Slash all of one second to get off the couch and lifts you up over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. You let out a yelp of delight. “Slash!” You chirp as you laugh. Now what?

Slash doesn’t respond and proceeds to carry you down a dark hallway into a small dingy dressing room. He locks the door and as soon as he sets you down you’re up off your feet again and pressed up against the door by Slash. He lifts you up and you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist. “Slash!” You giggle again. Slash roughly presses his lips against yours. Sparks fly again. Harder now. His curls hiding your face into his in a little curtain. You melt into him. His touch is addictive. The way he holds you like your going to get away but that’s the last thing you want. He towers over you, cradling you entirely in his grip like it’s nothing. His hands grip your ass hard and he lets out a heavy breath against your lips. “You know how long I’ve wanted you?” He growls. The two of you fall desperately deeper into the kiss. His wet tongue dominates your lips and slides its way into you. He tastes so good. One of his large hands slides it’s way up from your bottom to your waist, and then up your side and finally, hugging over your breast. You let out a soft moan of pleasure. Something he had been imagining in his own head for some time. How you looked, how you sounded…He smiles viciously. “God I need you to do that again for me sweetheart.” He pants out in a frenzy and gives your breast another loving squeeze to which you oblige another soft moan out into his lips. He smirks again.

He shifts away from the door and carrys you over to a beaten down futon in the dressing room. Setting you down roughly. As he sets you down he stays low and comes to his knees, yet met you at your height sitting down. His large hands rested heavily on both your hips, he kisses you and then works his way with his lips and his hands down your chest, to your stomach, his hands slipping down your thighs, he firmly prys open your legs but for some reason, maybe due to the pure foreign nature of the action you reflex and slightly close them accidentally. This takes him aback and he looks up to you with a devilish grin turned concern. “What is it Foxey?” He asks while pecking sweet kisses on your knees. “Oh - sorry I don’t know why I - I - go ahead I-“ you stumble to find remedy. Slash looks at you in a total realization. “Foxey…have you ever…?” He asks. You shake your head shamefully. “Oh Foxey…” He coos sweetly and lowly. “Let me show you baby.” He continues without further conversation. You didn’t need convincing but hearing that helped you relax again and your body surrenders to his touch. He continues on and prys your legs open gently. It takes him all his strength to not completely devour you so quickly. He smooths his rough muscular hands up your inner thighs, mirror one another’s movement. He hikes your dress up further. Speckling sloppy wet kisses across your waistband and over the top of your panties. He looks up at you through a curtain of dark curls to watch you. “ I’m gonna make you feel so good baby, I just need you to do one thing for me.” He whispers and he slides down your panties and discards them. The cool air hitting you. “Yes Slash?” You ask with a breathy desperation. He smiles at your eagerness. “ I need you to moan for me baby.” He says and slides a finger inside of you effortlessly with the already slick wetness that had accumulated down there. You let out a soft gasp and moan. “Oh god!” You gasp. He smiles. “Good girl.” He smirks with barely an ounce of morality at his deflowering. He begins pumping his finger inside you. You feel something cold and realize it’s the finger with the snake ring. He never took it off. Nevermind that now. Pleasure swayed within you echoing through with each gentle pump inside you with his finger. “I wanna hear you baby.” He whispers desperate to hear your moans and adds a second finger. It only hurts for a moment but the pain turns to pure pleasure. He’s not hard with it, just soft gentle pumps into you like he’s fingering a guitar. You let out another moan. He exits you with a grin and climbs up to you, leaning you back onto the couch. He brings his wet fingers to your mouth. “Open up Foxey.” You obey his sweet command and he sticks his fingers into your mouth softly. “Suck” He commands in a low gravelly tone. His eyes piercing you as he watches through darkened eyes. You obey again. “You taste so good huh.” He affirms. This seemingly strange action gave you coils of hot sparks through you. You keep eye contact with him while you wrap your tongue around his fingers and suck generously. He returns to you below and this time flattens his tongue across your lips in one long broad stroke. You throw your head back again and let out a moan of surprise and pleasure. “Slash.” You moan.

Your voice moaning out his name drove him to his limit. He stood up and unbuckled his jeans. You take off your jacket and hike your dress up further. Need more of him. “I want you inside me. Please.” You blurt out in a breath. As if you even had to ask. He smirks devilishly at your admittance. “Just do it just go.” You beg. You’ve never wanted anything more. He pulls your towards him with your legs wrapped around him . In an instant you feel him push into you. Pain and pleasure spark out of you. “Fuck” You moan out. He lets out a sharp breathy groan and throws his head back and pushes his hair back although it falls back over him immediately. “You feel so fucking good Foxey girl.” He groans out. He slowly begins pumping in and out of you. Watching for signs of displeasure from you but all you feel is ecstasy. He throws his shirt off, exposing his sweaty happy trail to which you could now finally see where it led to and it was in-fact- happiness. His abdomen glistening again with sweaty specks. He looked so good on top of you. Thrusting into you faster and faster. He leans down and cradles your head in his hand while holding himself up with the other he rests it forehead atop yours as the frequency increases bigger and bigger. The two of you moan in harmonious rhythms, he rocks his hips into you. This incredible dance of rough and romance. His moans sound so pretty. His curls swayed with every thrust into you.

You both pant heavily into each others faces as knots of pleasure twist inside both of you. “Here.” He pants out like a dog and reaches his fingers down over your clit. The added stimulation sending lightning strikes down your legs. You start to feel yourself tensing up and be did too. “Slash-“ You pant out softly. “I-“ you don’t succeed in your speaking before stars are spinning through you. “Oh fuck-“ You cry out. He cradles your head through it and watches you squirm underneath him in pleasure. You dig your nails into his back. He doesn’t stop. As you begin to descend slightly, the sight of you underneath him. Everything. You, the way you moaned his name, the way you dressed, the way you looked, spoke, laughed, walked. All of his deep seeded infatuations with you built up finally coming to a grand release. He lets out a concealed rough grunt and quickly exits you as white hot spurts out over your legs. Still dizzied with pleasure, you watch. He finally halts and slightly collapses himself onto you. The two of you stay silent, staring into one another’s eyes, catching your breath. You had never felt so connected to something in your life like him, like this.

“What’d you think Foxey?” He asks smirking arrogantly. You blush as you come to your senses. Slightly embarrassed by the scene you made. “It was..so good.” You grin. This makes him happy and he comes back down to you and gives you a hot exhausted kiss. “God I could kill for a cigarette right now” you laugh at that sentence coming from your own mouth. He laughs and gets up. Before his pants are even fully buckled he’s got a lit cigarette in between his lips again and passes it to you, you take a big inhale and total cool bathed your entirety. You stay half naked lying down, staring at him and the smoke leaving your lips. “Do you think anyone heard that?” You ask him. To which he chuckles - “probably.”

You smirk. “ Good.”

#slash #slash fanfiction #slash gnr #slash x reader #gnr smut #slash smut #gnr #saul hudson #gnr x reader #saul hudson x reader

[sionisjaune]

Roommate au and pregnancy fic for princess cake but make it het and make Jenson the girl byeeeee

[Trope mash up prompt list] Remind me to tell you about the butch lesbian high school cool girl Jenson I was developing for an AU a while back.... N E WAY here you go!

Jenson finds herself sitting on the toilet, a drugstore pregnancy test in her hand and her panties on the floor around her ankles after she skips her period and clues into the fact that she never, ever skips her period. She stares fixedly at the little oval on the test stick, waiting for one or two lines to resolve. 

“Can you hurry up in there?” says Nico, pounding on the door. Their shitty flat only has the one bathroom, and Nico probably wants to get in to fetch his expensive hair products and spend half an hour in the mirror artfully fucking up his hair in a manner that is reminiscent of the style he sports when Jenson wakes up with a hangover and rolls onto her side to find Nico in her bed. 

“Fuck off,” says Jenson, squinting at the stick. Can it take any longer?

Nico pounds on the door again. “I need to piss,” he whines. Jenson buries her head in the hand not holding the test stick. She doesn’t know why she sleeps with him. Repeatedly. Her brain reminds her that it’s probably because he’s utterly shameless in bed and lets her tie him up and slap him around and generally seems to get off on Jenson emasculating him. 

“Just—one second,” Jenson says. She deposits the pregnancy test on the sink and pulls her panties up her hips, flushing the toilet. She washes her hands in the sink, scrutinizing her reflection in the vanity. The mascara she couldn’t be arsed to wash off last night is smeared around her eyes, making her look like a rather freckly racoon. She towels off her hands and unlocks the door for Nico, who is standing immediately outside of the washroom with his hand poised to knock on the door again, a white button down with the wrong buttons fastened slipping off his shoulders and a pair of skin-tight boxer briefs riding high on his thighs. 

“Fucking finally,” says Nico, rolling his eyes. He shoulders past Jenson, and Jenson swears she catches a whiff of a candy-scented perfume off the collar of his shirt. He went out with his friends last night, who are far weirder and less affable than Jenson’s friends. 

He slams the door behind him while Jenson pads through the flat to plop on the couch, tucking her legs under her. She listens to the toilet flush and the sink run. The door creaks open again, and Nico exits the washroom, rubbing a hand through his hair. 

“JB,” he says, hesitating. He’s clutching something in his hand. Oh shit, Jenson thinks. She watches him raise the pregnancy test Jenson forgot on the sink with a panicked look on his pouty face. “What’s this?”

#trope mash up prompts #princess cake