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neopuppy · 9 days

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first, jeno with a mouth fixation. secondly, jeno with a fixation on your mouth but...well, you reject him each time he's made a move on you...that is...until you can't reject him anymore. how does that come to be? idk. but he knows how to get what he wants i'm sure. (you know how to make him get what he wants)

“Pay attention.”

Jeno blinks furiously, sitting up and wiping his chin of imaginary drool. It’s only about the fifth time you’ve scolded him, or maybe the sixth, who's counting.

Right. Pay attention.

“This final counts for half of your grade.” You remind him, peering up from behind your glasses. “Are you even listening?”

No. Jeno hasn’t listened once throughout the duration of this semester. He gave up the first day of class when he saw you chewing on the end of your pen, tapping it against your lips as you followed along with the professor’s introduction.

It seemed to only worsen from there, pens turned to your pinky finger, dragging the nail between your teeth. Hard candies that you’d suck on and hold between your teeth, lightly licking the sugar coating off to make the treat last longer.

That gave him the idea to approach you, finally finding an excuse after receiving his first graded test, not even bothered by the bold ‘D’ circled at the top.

‘These are for you.’ He said flatly, setting a bag of caramel apple suckers on your desk.

‘Huh? Wait, I love these..’ you mumbled, picking up the bag full of 60 suckers. ‘But how—‘

He shrugged, turning around to make way to his seat without another word. Not bothering to explain that he’d noticed the pattern in flavors you always seemed to have stockpiled inside your hidden candy drawer.

Without fail one of those lollipops would end up in your mouth a few times per week as you took notes and graded assignments. Swapping between drinks of water from your overpriced adult sippy cup, biting on the straw attached to your iced coffee, scouring through your drawer after an hour of lectures to find a treat to wake yourself up. Somehow your lipgloss managed to stay intact through it all, making Jeno’s fingers twitch as he grasped onto the edges of his desk.

It’s not only how perfectly juicy your lips look sucking around various objects, but how obscene they hang open when you’re thinking too hard, casually tucking your bottom lip in under your teeth. The meat filling your bottom lip sinking in as you bite down harder, raising the beat of his heart to pump faster through his veins.

At this point he looks forward to another disappointed frown dragging your pretty mouth down when you place another failed test on his desk. He shrugs and smiles, mentioning by the third fail that he may need extra help, assistance if you have the time for him.

Each time you coin up some excuse, too busy for study sessions. He needs to learn to study on his own, teacher assistants are not tutors.

But the day he presents you a gift card for your favorite coffee shop, you begin to relent, smiling softly as you refuse to accept bribery. He didn’t stop there of course, opting to learn your order and show up a few minutes earlier to have everything set out on your desk. Even throwing in a pastry that you munched on once getting halfway into your coffee, tearing off small pieces to chew on which he thoroughly enjoyed.

The next upside test you hand him had an extra note to meet after class.

Finally.

Only now that he’s alone with you, it’s even worse. Hyper fixated on your lips moving as you explain the subject he’d just failed, a big fat F on his test that he could really give a shit about right now.

“Jeno, it wasn’t easy to get this room at the last minute.” You sigh, waving a yawn away. “You seriously need to turn around your grade, at this rate you’ll never pass.”

He hums, agreeing with you, digging into his bag for a sucker. “I don’t work well like this, the pressure,” unwrapping the candy, he drags its dry coating across his lip, slowly blinking at you. “With no incentive—“

“The incentive is your grade.” You interrupt, snatching the lollipop away from him before he can pop it into his mouth. “You need to focus.”

“Make me then.” He shrugs, wrapping a firm hold on your retreating wrist. “That’s mine.”

“Fine.” You scowl, shaking him off. “Finish this practice quiz and I’ll give you your candy back.”

He has to hide a smirk when you raise it to your mouth, eyebrow cocked. “You get more than half wrong and it’ll be mine.”

“Keep it.” He says, leaning over the desk. “In fact.. I’d love to see you try and take it from me.”

Quickly clutching your wrist, he draws your balled up fist back toward his mouth, the lollipop stuck between your fingers. “Get it back from me, and I’ll pass whatever test you throw my way.” He finishes, lips sucking around the candy, sleek gaze burning into yours.

“Want it?” He says between slow, long licks. Grip staying tight on you.

“Let go of me.” You grit, jerking away without budge. “This isn’t proper behavior between students and teachers.”

“You’re not my teacher.” He corrects, sucking the lollipop to one side. “But you want me to pass right? Because if I don’t..”

Trailing his free hand up your arm, he glides past your shoulder and throat, pinching your chin roughly. “I’ll have to repeat next semester when you take over. And I’ll make sure to show up everyday, miss every assignment, fail each and every test.”

“Why—“

“Because,” he tugs the lollipop free, pressing the saliva coated sucker to your pursed lips. “I want you to open up that pretty mouth.” Digging in his fingers, he forces your jaw to unhinge. Whimpering as he invades your tongue and drags the sucked on lollipop down the middle.

“So good at using your tongue, aren’t you?” He jeers, tapping the roof of your mouth with the lollipop until you gag around nothing. “Be good, push those pretty lips together.”

Shaking his ruthless grip on your jaw, he pulls harder until your neck cracks and you cough from the stimulation against your tongue. Lips wrapping shut around the stick.

“Very good.” But not enough. He stands abruptly, chair scraping nastily across the floor. Without losing any tension clenching your jaw and chin, he pulls the corners of your lips open. Thumbs piercing past the seam to watch your tongue struggle to not swallow down the lollipop. Saliva spurting out and running down your chin as he licks at his lips.

Yes. Very good.

“But I want more.” He whispers, thumbs deeping in to push your cheeks open from inside out.

“Pl-please.” You gurgle, moist eyes blinking up at him.

Ignoring your pleads, his fingers drag out, smearing drool down your cheeks and chin. The lollipop stem hangs between your pouty abused lip, covered in slick spit. “This won’t do.” He chuckles, dragging it free from your lips and returning the lollipop to his mouth.

Fingers dig back into your cheeks to keep your head in place, dragging a thick rubbery plastic from his bag. “You can do better.”

#asks #nct hard hours #nct dream hard hours #nct smut

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lipglossanon · 1 month

Text

Infatuation

Stepbro!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader

sequel to Kiss & Tell - for @nvoirs of course 😉

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, stepcest, pussy eating, cum eating, slight hair pulling, spit kink, pussy slapping/spanking, dirty talk, degradation, name calling, fingerfucking, squirting, masturbating, scratching, nipple play 😏, ball sucking, facial, praise, unprotected sex, creampie, feelings 🥹

title from Infatuation by I Don’t Know How But The Found Me

Leon carries you into the bathroom and sets you on your feet in the shower.

“S’gonna be cold,” you scrunch your nose as Leon flips on the taps for the shower.

“It’ll warm up quick,” he winks, turning to go shut and lock the door.

Walking back, he steps into the tub with you and closes the shower curtain, bodily blocking the water.

“There,” he smooths his hands down your arms, “I’ll move once it’s warm for you.”

Appreciation thrums warmly in your chest and makes you smile at him, watching as his sandy blonde hair darkens with the water.

“Thank you,” stepping forward, you tilt your head up, offering your mouth to him in a kiss.

“Of course, princess,” his low voice creates goosebumps as he dips his head down to press your lips together.

Sighing into the kiss, Leon slips his tongue inside to lap against your own, sucking the slick muscle into his mouth before pulling away with a quick bite to your lower lip. Spinning you around, he swaps places with you, letting the now warm water sluice down your body making you gasp.

“Now, didn’t I promise to eat that pretty little cunt, sis?”

“Yess,” you drag out your reply while he kneels down in front of you, blue eyes locked on yours.

Flicking his gaze down, he uses his thumbs to spread your pussy lips, baring your cunt to the steamy air. You can still feel the creamy mixture dripping from your hole only to fall into the bottom of the tub and swirl down the drain.

“Fuck, look at this messy little cunt,” he mutters to himself, eyes dilating until the blue is nearly gone, “I love filling you up.”

Leaning forward, he spits on the hood of your clit, using one of his fingers to smear it across the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Gonna lick and kiss this sweet little princess pussy til she’s fucking gushing,” he promises, parting his lips to run his tongue up your cunt, flicking your pudgy clit on the end.

Shuddering, your hands move down to tangle in his soaked hair, roots darker than the rest as he presses his face into your pussy, tongue lapping at your drooling hole. With a low groan, he licks his own cum from your slick cunt, tongue fluttering deeper into your hole with every thrust of the muscle.

“Taste like mine,” he growls out, pulling away to spit on your spread open cunt, “got me hard again, baby sis.”

You whimper, eyes dragging down his wet and naked body, skipping past his abs to see his fat uncut cock bobbing between his thick thighs.

“Leon,” you mewl, pulling his hair and bucking your hips against his face.

“Mmm yeah, hump my face, baby,” he moves his hands to grab the fat of your ass and pull your cunt into his hungry mouth.

You lean your head back, water from the shower head running down your heaving chest as you pant wantonly.

Leon’s tongue slips up from your hole to circle and lap at your sensitive bundle of nerves. He sucks the swollen bud into his mouth with a moan, tongue flattening against it. Rolling your hips, you whine at the perfect pressure on your pudgy clit, little bolts of electric arousal pulsing through your body.

“Big brother,” your nails scratch along his scalp making him groan into your cunt.

He moves his head away and he chuckles meanly when you try to pull him back.

“I’m gonna do what I want, baby sis, so stay still,” he nips at your thigh, one hand slipping around to cup your pussy, middle finger pressing against your wet heat.

He pulls his finger out until it rests at the edge of your hole, moving his mouth closer until you can feel his lips press on your slick cunt. You watch and feel as he spits messily inside your pussy, pulling back to smirk at your low disbelieving moan. He leans forward and flutters his tongue into your leaking cunt, spitting noisily into your hole until it’s spilling back out around his lips.

“Gotta get this tight pretty cunt ready for my fingers, princess,” he chuckles derisively as you whimper and tug on his hair, “what a dirty slut, getting off on her big brother spitting in her hot little pussy.”

“Leon!” You mewl brokenly, tears beading at your waterline from the hot burst of arousal pulsing in your clit and sending chills all over your body, “I’m- I don’t— it’s so much.”

You’re not even able to articulate the sheer want overtaking your mind, eyes still watching as Leon grins at you, the faux innocent look making your nipples tighten in anticipation.

“Aww, don’t worry, big brother’s here to take care of you,” his hot breath washes over your soaked pussy, tongue darting out to lick up your slit.

He pulls back and spanks your mound hard.

“Say thank you, little sis,” his eyes narrow up at you, “or I might just tease you all night.”

“T-thank you, big brother,” you whisper, water almost drowning out your voice— but Leon hears it, humming agreeably before sucking your clit back into his mouth.

He braces his palm above your cunt and uses his thumb to pull back the hood of your clit. His tongue softly kitten licks the swollen bud, soft ohhhs spilling from your throat to echo off the bathroom walls as you roll your hips into the soft caress.

“Good girl,” he croons before spitting a hot glob of saliva onto your pussy, “so good for me, baby.”

With a groan, he shoves his tongue into your fluttering hole, grinding his nose against your clit as he eats you out eagerly. He sporadically spits up into your cunt, chuckling every time as you moan from how dirty it makes you feel.

“I’m c-close, Leon,” you stutter out, hands cupping his jaw when he pulls away, tongue lathing against your clit as he sits back on his haunches.

“Mmm, then let me see if I can make you squirt,” he smirks, face slick with arousal while his middle and ring finger press against your hole, “I don’t think it’ll take much, this pretty princess cunt is fucking dripping.”

“Please, big brother,” you hiccup a whine, “w’nna cum so bad.”

Using his free hand, he pets across your thigh before tapping it, helping you lift that leg over his shoulder to open up your cunt further.

“Fuck me,” he whispers to himself, fingers sinking easily into your soaked hole, “love your hot little pussy.”

Moaning, you try to stay still and keep your balance as Leon’s fingers curve upwards to rub against the spongy spot at the front of your cunt.

“Tight as hell,” he remarks, eyes glued to the apex of your thighs, “c’mon, cream my fingers, baby. Squirt all over your boyfriend’s face.”

“Leon!” You wail, body shuddering all over from his words, pussy walls clamping down on his fingers, slick dripping down his fingers and off his bent wrist; the tight band of arousal in your abdomen so very close to snapping.

“That’s it, cum for me, show big brother how wet he gets this sexy pussy,” he groans, fingers rubbing and pressing against your g-spot as his thumb softly glides across your clit.

A few more passes of his fingers inside your cunt sets off your orgasm like a bomb detonating in your body. Not able to move without falling, your back rounds you forward, hands scratching Leon’s back hard enough to leave marks. Your hole gushes slick, pushing his fingers out of your body as your pussy pulses and clenches around nothing while you keep cumming.

He sucks your clit into his mouth with a low hum, making you scream at the overstimulation. Your nails dig into his back even deeper and he hisses at the pain, the hand that he’d been fingering you with dropping down to his cock. Stroking the swollen length, he tilts his back, sighing at the slight relief from his slick coated palm as he fists his cock. Shakily, you move your leg off of his shoulder, now standing unsteadily on both feet.

“Goddamn that was hot,” he pants, eyes so dilated they look black as he looks up into your dazed expression, “spit in my mouth, sweetheart, ‘m close to busting a nut.”

White hot arousal makes your clit throb. Leon never asks you to spit on him; it’s always him doing it to you. Catching the motion of his hand, your attention drops down to watch as he fucks his fist, thick cock slipping in and out of the tight tunnel of his fingers while the muscles in his forearms shift. Your hands shift from his clawed up back to his shoulders as he lolls his tongue out.

You drop your mouth open, letting a line of spit fall from your tongue down onto his. His chest rumbles with a low moan while he tugs you closer.

“Make it messy,” he pants against your lips, “fucking spit on me you little slut.”

Even though Leon just made you cum so hard you squirted, slick wets your pussy with fresh arousal at his words. Pulling back, you spit on his mouth, the hot liquid hitting the corner of his lips and dripping off.

He laughs a mean low sound, “Good girl, now spit on my cock so I can jerk off faster.”

Nodding, you work your tongue around your mouth before drooling saliva down onto his dick while he holds it steady, cupped in his palm. He smears your spit over his cock, grunting as it throbs in his hand. You shift down onto your knees in front of him, hands skating up his twitching stomach to his chest.

“What’re you doing?” His question comes out in a gasp as your fingers ghost over his soft pink nipples.

“Oh fuck,” he huffs out a pained noise, but you see his cock leaking precum as he grips the base.

“S’this okay?” Your breath comes out shaky as your fingers slowly circle his hardening nipples.

“God,” his head falls back, showing off his adams apple when he swallows heavily, “didn’t realize how sensitive— fuck.”

You tweak his pink buds and bite your lip hard as his cock blurts out a sticky rope of cum onto his fist.

“Fuck, g’nna make me cum from this,” his hips flex as he rocks into his hand, fucking the slick tunnel of spit and precum.

Your clit throbs in time with your heartbeat, eyes watching him shiver and grunt while you play with his nipples. Pinching one bud while you roll the opposite has his eyelashes fluttering, mouth dropping open with a whine. You can’t stop staring at how hard his cock has gotten, fat tip drooling precum everywhere.

Mouth watering, your eyes snap back up to his face, a half formed thought spilling from your lips.

“Can I suck your cock?”

His eyebrows raise in surprise for a split second before he grins at you, “Yeah? Wanna get that slutty tongue on my dick, lick me clean?”

Eyes drooping as he speaks, you nod, sucking your bottom lip into your mouth. His rough laugh makes you press the dough of your thighs together.

“How about… sucking my balls, princess? Think we’d both like that better,” he shifts back into the basin of the tub, spreading his thighs and lifting his cock.

Maneuvering into a better position, you kneel between his legs, pressing a trail light kisses across his body. You place a brief kiss to the base of his cock before your lips drift down to his balls, lightly kissing and licking at the soft skin.

“Ohh, good girl,” he relaxes against the tub, cock kicking against his leg, “nice and easy, let me really get a feel for that sweet tongue.”

Moaning, you suck one of his balls into your mouth, tongue swirling and lapping against it before you pull away with a soft pop. You repeat the same thing to the opposite one before pulling away and licking up the seam of his sac. Open mouthed kisses let you dart your tongue out against his balls before you try and fit them both into your mouth.

“Fuck me,” he groans, “don’t think they’re gonna fit, little sis, but keep trying, y’look hot as hell.”

He slowly strokes his cock but then drops his hands down onto your head, bringing you so close to his squishy sac that your nose presses against the bottom of his dick.

“Warm that cum up, princess, wanna bust a hot load all over your face,” he growls out, eyes watching you heatedly.

Mewling, the vibrations make his stomach clench, one hand moving up to stroke his cock so fast it’s a blur.

“Right there, keep your slutty mouth right on my balls as I cum all over your fucking face,” he grits out, hips rocking as he jerks himself off.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he mutters under his breath.

You feel his balls tighten in your mouth, sac pulsing under you tongue as his cock spurts hot thick cum all over your face and down his shaft. It drips across the bridge of your nose, more spilling down his dick to slip off your lips as you softly suckle on his sac.

“God that’s good,” he grabs the back of your neck and pulls you away, “wish I could take a picture, so pretty, little sis.”

Instead of wiping it away, he smears his jizz across your lips, thumb pressing into your mouth.

“Bet your pretty pussy is begging for a nice thick load like this,” he murmurs, eyes narrowed gleefully, “after we wash you off, I’ll stuff that messy wet hole til it’s leaking my cum.”

Whining, you suck on his thumb, cleaning off his spend and running your tongue around the digit. Leon slowly stands up before placing his hands under your arms and helping you up as well. Pins and needles rush through your legs making you slump against him.

“You okay?” His hands run down your back.

You nod against his chest, “Yeah, my legs are asleep kinda.”

He hums and kneels in front of you again. Softly massaging the muscles, he glides his hands across each of your legs, working out the tingly feeling until you can stand up straight.

“Better?”

You cup his face in your hands and smile, leaning down to kiss his nose.

“Much better.”

He joins you back under the shower spray, tilting your face into the water to clean off the rest of his cum. Leaning around you, he grabs his soap, lathering his hands up before running it down and across your shoulders. He spins you out of the water so he can wash you off without the soap rinsing away too quickly.

The warm water sliding down his back makes him hiss under his breath. Turning his head to look, he snorts a laugh at the scratches you left behind. Leon nuzzles his face against the side of your neck as he runs his hands down your sides. His soapy hands move across your ribs to cup your breasts in each hand.

“Got me good, princess,” he murmurs against the shell of your ear, “maybe should start calling you kitten, hmm?”

The tenuous grasp you had on yourself frays even more as Leon tweaks and pinches your nipples before squeezing the soft fat of your breasts. You moan reedily, the sound spilling from your throat before you can think twice. The soap makes it easier for him to touch and tease your stiff peaks, fingers circling your areola before flicking across your hard nipples.

“Feels good?” He hums cockily, kissing the side of your neck, “so sensitive aren’t they?”

“Can say the same for you, big brother,” you snark back, so turned on its making you frustrated.

He quickly pulls one hand away, the flat of his fingers coming down in a stinging slap against your mound and swollen clit. That same arm wraps around your waist to keep you from falling as your legs buckle.

“Behave,” his baritone rumbles against your back, “and stand up, little slut.”

Knees as weak as a newborn foal, you let Leon help you back onto your feet with him supporting most of your weight. Once you're steady against him, he lets go of your waist, fingers trailing down your belly until he’s cupping your pussy.

“She’s so swollen and wet,” he praises in your ear, fingers teasing along your slit before parting your pussy lips to rub against your slick hole, “feels like she’s ready for big brother to stuff her full.”

Gasping, your hips arch into his hand, “Please, Leon, please, need you so much. Need your cock, big brother.”

He bites down on your shoulder, teeth digging into the muscle while he grinds his stiffening cock against your ass.

“Eager little sis,” his lips brush across the bite mark left behind, “here, let me give you the tip for now.”

His right hand grabs onto your hip while the left lifts up your left leg by the bend, hooking it over his forearm as he pulls it up towards your side. Once you're balanced, he slips his right hand down to notch the head of his cock against your fluttering hole. You both moan as he sinks the first few inches into your pussy.

“Squeezing so tight already,” he rocks his hips back until the fat tip is pressed just inside your hole, “want it hard and fast or deep and slow, princess?”

“Deep and slow,” the words tumble out, head falling back against his shoulder, “please.”

“Such a sweet girl,” he coos, flexing his hips to slowly work more of his cock inside your soaked pussy.

Choking on nothing, you whimper and gasp as he finally bottoms out inside your clenching heat. Your fingers dig into his forearms where he’s holding onto your body. With your left leg held up at an angle, his cock grinds right against your g-spot and makes your clit throb from the pleasure. He pants against your ear, water misting over you both as he pulls out halfway to thrust in again.

“S’good,” you slur, tongue feeling fat and heavy, “you feel so good, Leon.”

“Fucking hell,” he sinks his teeth into your neck, cock kicking inside your pussy as he shakily fucks into your spasming walls.

“Making it hard for me to take it easy, y’r wet needy pussy’s sucking me in like she’s desperate for cum,” he licks across the indentations his teeth left in your skin before sucking your earlobe into his mouth.

“Want it,” you moan, “want you to cum in me.”

He snaps his hips up into your soaked cunt before forcefully slowing himself back down.

“Made for my cock aren’t you princess? You and this sweet little cunt are a perfect fit,” the words pressed against the shell of your ear has your pussy clamping down on his fat dick.

“Uh huh,” you nod, “s’all yours big brother, ‘m all yours.”

He clicks his tongue and ruts his cock in and out of your cunt, tip catching on the edge of your hole before sinking balls deep back into your pussy, “Speak more clearly, little sis.”

The hand holding onto your hip slides down, palm bracing against your mound as his thumb rubs tight circles on your swollen clit. Squealing at the too much feeling, you writhe in his hold.

“I’m all yours, Leon,” you hiccup a cry, eyes watering from the arousal flowing like molten lava through your veins, “this pussy’s all yours, big brother.”

“Good girl,” his thumb presses more firmly on your pudgy bud, “that’s right, and I’m gonna stuff my girlfriend’s pretty pussy til she can’t take anymore.”

“Please, wanna cum, Leon,” your head hangs down, chin dipping towards your chest as your eyes take in his thumb teasing your clit.

He kisses the side of your face and you turn to press your lips together. With a growl, he licks into your mouth, tongue messily tasting you. Whining, you suck on the slick muscle, hands coming up to tangle in his hair, opening your body up more.

“You feel close,” he whispers against your lips, “gonna squeeze my cock with that tight pussy?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” your tongue darts out to lick Leon’s bottom lip, “gonna cum for you.”

“So perfect,” he groans, moving his thumb away to drum his fingers across your clit, “cum for me, baby, work that thick load outta my cock.”

Your voice cracks when you cry out, thighs twitching violently when your orgasm finally hits. Leon’s murmuring into your ear but it’s completely lost to the rush of blood pounding through your head. He eases your leg down, cock still buried inside your cunt as you pulse and flutter around his thick length.

“Can you stand, Princess?” He asks gently, running his hands across your shaking form.

“Mmhmm,” you dazedly hum out, aftershocks still making your blood fizz.

“Can you bend forward for me? Brace your arms against the wall so I can finish inside you?”

His questions make your pussy clench around him tightly; you bend forward, palms splayed out on the shower wall. Groaning, he pulls out and bullies his cock back inside your sensitive hole.

“Fuck, so pretty,” he mumbles to himself, “perfect pussy, baby, got me addicted. Gonna fill you up and finger it back out so you’ll be empty for next time.”

“Leon,” you mewl, clit thrumming as he picks up the pace, fucking into your cunt rougher and rougher.

“Such a good girl for me, perfect little sis,” he grabs your hips so tight it hurts, “take it, take it. Fuck, gonna bust a nut deep in this fat wet pussy.”

He curses under his breath and thrusts a few more times before pressing his hips against your ass as he spills hot, thick ropes of cum inside your sore pussy. You whimper softly as Leon kisses across your shoulders, cock kicking and throbbing while he coats your pussy walls with his sticky jizz.

“So good, god I love you so much.”

You freeze in place, heart hammering double time as he continues to nuzzle and kiss your neck.

“Y-yeah?”

Your small voice has him slipping out of you, hands easing you back around to face him. His hair, long since saturated with water, is as dark as his eyes. Using the knuckle of his forefinger, he lifts your chin up so there’s nothing in the way of your gaze.

“I love you, princess. Not exactly how I planned on letting you know, but it doesn’t make it any less true,” he brushes the water from your cheeks, stare never leaving yours.

Tears bead at the corner of your eyes, a smile breaking out a cross you face.

“I love you too,” you sniffle, trying not to cry, “so so much.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair as you pull him to you. He closes the distance and kisses you hotly, mouth parted to bite down on your bottom before soothing the sting away with his tongue. He tapers the rough kisses down into something softer until you both pull away breathing hard.

“We should probably clean up and get out,” he flicks water from his fringe, “think it’s starting to get cold.”

“Okay,” you smile, letting your hands fall away from his shoulders.

Leon quickly and efficiently washes and rinses you both off before bundling you up in a towel and sending you back off to his room as he cleans up the bathroom. You slip into your own room to grab some underwear, but decide to steal one of Leon’s old shirts to sleep in for the night. Crawling into his bed, you tuck yourself under his blankets and snuggle into his extra pillow.

A few minutes pass and as your eyes start to drift closed while sleep calls your name, Leon finally comes into his room. Pulling on briefs, he tugs back the covers to lay down next to you.

“Hi,” he grins at you, turning on his side to pillow his head onto his arm.

“Hi,” you feel full of warmth from your head to your toes, “‘m pretty tired.”

He laughs, “Then go to sleep.”

Humming, he pulls you into his chest, free arm wrapping around your upper back.

“Since tomorrow’s the weekend, no rush in waking up, right?” You mumble into his pecs.

“Right,” he agrees, rubbing his hand up and down your back, lulling you even closer to sleep.

Body sagging as you relax against him, you hear him press a kiss to the top of your head before being pulled under by the complete need to rest.

“Sweet dreams, princess.”

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residenthughes · 3 months

Text

persuasion - jack hughes

pairing: jack hughes x fem reader

word count: 5.7k

tags/warnings: college/university au, fluff, slight angst?, fratboy! jack (he's sweet in this, dw), mentions of alcohol/drinking, no mention of y/n

summary: you get a bit more than you bargained for when paired up with all-american hockey star, jack hughes.

notes: hi. it's been a (long) while since i've posted on here. not to mention, i'm back writing about someone a bit different 😭 but i've recently gotten into the nhl and this fic is the result of me drunkenly coming across this photo a few days ago. despite the changes on this blog, i hope this post finds you well and that you enjoy this (poor) attempt of me getting back into writing. much love <3

The end of the semester couldn’t have come sooner. Swapped with what was possibly the busiest you’ve ever been, the sweet relief after submitting your last assignment was unparalleled and lulled you to a much deserved slumber, only to be awoken by a barrage of messages pinging from your bedside table. Disgruntled, your arm extends in search of your phone, groaning into your damp pillow as you blink away the tired film coating your eyes and read the messages from your best friend.

frat house party tonight, presence is mandatory!

all the girlies are onboard, your sexy ass better be ready by 9!

Another groan emits from you, exhaustion seeping through your bones at the mere mention of doing something else besides rotting in bed. You’re about to type some incoherent excuse, but your best friend beats you to it.

apparently, z and his guys are going.

chances are jack’s there too.

There’s a messy stutter in your chest upon reading the message and suddenly, you’re more awake than before as you gingerly sit yourself up in your bed. Of course, she’d mention he was going just to convince you further. You weren’t even aware she knew of your crush. Considering you hadn’t mentioned him much besides when asked, his name being referenced feels more intrusive than it should be. Then again, as perceptive as she is, there was no denying the fact.

Jack and yourself had worked on a group project earlier in the semester, which is how the two of you had crossed paths. Upon hearing of the task at hand, you couldn’t help but let out a sigh because you were never a fan of working with others you didn’t know, but considering none of your friends took your class, it seemed like the perfect opportunity to get to know others and build your social circle. When your assigned group had got together towards the end of the lecture to discuss formalities and such, you hadn’t expected the whirlwind that was to come in the presence of a sandy brunette haired boy.

Jack is as easy-going as he is charming. Cracks a couple jokes and suddenly, all the ice isolating your group dissolves to water and there are constant hums of conversation bouncing off every member of your group. He’s nice too, considerate of everyone’s schedule and what tasks they felt confident in completing, never uttering a word of complaint unless warranted. It’s interesting, he’s interesting, you think to yourself. Perhaps due to the fact that since he’d revealed himself to be in a frat, you had some preconceived notions as to what his personality would be like and maybe at times, he’d fit that stereotype to a tee, there were other times he’d stray away from it completely and leave you curious as ever.

Peculiar is what you’d describe those few weeks to be, your interest gravitating towards any relation to Jack. Heart beating as you walked past your university’s ice arena, knowing he practically lived on the ice beyond his time in class. Eyes lighting up when he texted in the group chat, mental fuzziness plaguing you every time you sat across from one another as you completed your portion of work in the university’s library. You’d be a fool to dismiss the budding attraction you felt towards him, spinning your world round but also leaving you feeling so unsure of everything, yourself included. There’s no scarcity of girls who like him, it proved to be difficult resisting the All-American hockey star with looks to match. However, taking into account the sheer volume of attention directed his way everyday, your lingering glances didn’t seem to be much more significant. So, one-sided this crush remains to you, storing away the quiet memories of shared laughs and time spent together in a place close to your heart.

That was until he invited you to his game, shortly after your project had been submitted for assessment. You wanted to go, you wanted to go so badly that you agonised over the decision for longer than necessary, but ultimately, as you laid awake that night, eyes blazing red with fatigue, doom scrolling to further delay your dreams, the evidence for your answer surfaced. It was nothing but a silly Instagram post from one of his friends, Trevor Zegras, the boyfriend to one of your friends. A collection of typical photos: the boys, hockey and more of the antics they got to. It’s in the last slide where in the background of a recent football game is none other than Jack, in all his handsome glory, grinning ear to ear as a girl envelopes him in a hug that feels too intimate to be seen. Embarrassment runs your skin hot and jealousy leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, the thought of you entertaining anything more than platonic with Jack a pipedream at best. Naturally, there can be so many explanations for the photo, but what rings true is that you’ve made yourself vulnerable to heartbreak, which is nowhere to be found on your agenda. So, you call it a night, turning off your phone and hoping to put the crush behind you come tomorrow.

And, it works for a bit. Jack doesn’t text you further and you don’t run into him on campus. Summer soon approaches and the last few days before your break have you buzzing with excitement for all the plans you have lined up. Your world doesn’t hinge on every interaction you have with Jack and your mind is freed from the shackles of mulling over every detail in said interaction. It’s liberating and you’d like to keep it that way. A fleeting crush, you reason, all said and done with. A mantra you repeat to yourself as you respond back to your best friend, gleaming as you and your group chat discuss outfits options and pinterest inspired makeup looks.

There’s nothing better than being with your girls, you’re reminded, as the buzzing excitement never fizzles as the night stretches on. Controlled chaos dominates the night as you pack into one friend’s rooms to get ready together, helping each other with eyelash extensions and annoying back zippers. Someone makes the suggestion to drop by the campus bar for a drink or two, just to ease the nerves, and it turns out to be a great idea because by the time you stumble out of the bar and towards the frat house, the party’s in full swing.

Trashed lawn and red cup galore, the music somehow manages to reach outside the house with hoards of people dotted around and inside the house. With the merry buzz you’ve got from the bar, confidence details your movements as you lead your friends with clasped hands into the packed house, mumbling a thousand ‘sorry’s as you trample on through the crowded hallways to find yourselves in one (?) of the living rooms.

Hands suddenly grasp at yours and you’re thrown into a fit of giggles as your friends tangle themselves up in a messy but fun dance. You follow suit, fully relishing in the euphoria of the night and the found family you have in these girls as you dance and chatter until you have no choice to venture into the kitchen for a refreshment.

Surprisingly, the kitchen is vacant as you push through towards its door you were directed to, scanning the room amongst belongings to find some mixer for your helping of vodka stashed away in your purse. Despite your better judgement, you resort to apprehensively searching through cupboards on your tippy toes in search for mixer and as you’re about to open the last cupboard, the kitchen door opens.

“Looking for something?”

Goosebumps arise and your heart stills. You know that voice like the back of your hand, the same voice that echoes in the back of your mind and whispers sweet nothings in your ear when you dream. The fact that he’s so ingrained in your memory makes you curse at yourself, teeth gnawing on the plumpiness of your bottom lip as you attempt to recollect your racing thoughts. With a quiet breath, you sink back from your elevated posture and turn towards the source of the voice, blinking like a deer caught in the headlights.

It’s comical how such a simple sight renders you a loss for words. In the doorway of the large kitchen stands Jack, shoulder and head leaning against the doorframe as he looks at you with an expectant look and a cheeky grin to match. His legs are crossed at the ankles and he’s holding a beer, but he’s got this pearl white long sleeved polo on with washed out jeans and a black snapback to top it all off. The outfit in itself is so simple and yet, here you are, heart being sent into overdrive as the effortless combo drives you wild. Sets your skin alight and conjures up electricity that pulses through you like wildfire.

“Lemonade,” you gracefully croak out, gesturing towards your empty red cup. “I didn’t bring much to mix my drink with.”

“Here, I’ll help you with that,” he reassures you, bouncing off the door frame as he draws closer to you, your feet absently shifting a few steps backwards. “No need to back up. I don’t bite, you know?”

You huff at the comment, realising how foolish his mere presence makes you and will yourself to relax, shoulders easing down from your ears as you watch Jack search through the cupboards. It doesn’t take him long to find what he’s looking for, pulling out a large bottle of lemonade that coasts against the marble of the countertop.

“Feel free to use as much as you like, I never usually have this myself anyways.” insists Jack, turning himself around with his back against the countertop, arms crossed his chest with a peering eye directed to you.

“How thoughtful of you.” you jester as a brief chuckle is shared between the two of you, the loud thumps of heavy bass music sounding from beyond the kitchen door as silence settles between the two of you.

“It’s been a while, how’ve you been?” he asks, undivided attention focused on you as you pour the last of the lemonade. If not for the embarrassment of spilling your drink in front of him, the unsolicited awareness he’s currently given you would have resulted in exactly that, so you stop yourself and give him a convincing smile.

“I’ve been good, thanks. It’s the end of the academic year, I have no more complaints,” you muse, bringing the cup to your lips as you peer over the rim to look at Jack, his long lashes fluttering as his focus remains you. Your heartbeat picks up its pace. “What about you? Frozen four’s a big deal, but winning the championship is even bigger.”

Jack gives a lighthearted laugh, smugness adjusting his posture as his shoulders move back and his chest puffs out. Meanwhile, he gives this half shrug and grin that has heat gravitating towards the apples of your cheeks. It’s one of the things you like about Jack, how confident and sure of himself he is without it being overbearing and unappealing. It feels assuring, not having to dim your own light for the sake of his own comfort.

“Yeah, that was nuts, I can’t lie. We had a really good run and I think our efforts really showed for themselves in that case,” Jack responds, taking a swig of his beer. “Christ, I sound like I’m talking to the media or something.”

“Well, consider this practice for when you join Jersey in the future,” you simper, snickering as you take a sip of your own drink. “I’m sure you’ll have plenty of fun speaking to the media.”

He gives an eyeroll, amusement prominent in the way his eyes twinkle and you can't help but laugh more. “So you say. How did you even know about Jersey?”

Your laugh is cut short, ice cold realisation washing over you like a bad hangover as his words hang in the air like a gauntlet waiting for its descent. Of course, this was nothing to be caught off-guard by considering how much your university boasts about how Jack, amongst other talented players, were drafted before committing to your university. However, the painful memory of you awake one late night doesn’t escape you, said night spent hesitantly typing his name into Google to come across all the info you knew to confirm how great of a hockey player he was. You feel shameful even looking him in the eyes right now.

So, your eyes stray from him, the somewhat sticky floor being the source of all your interest. “Who doesn’t know? Our uni does a good job of reminding us of everyone that’s been drafted.”

You decide to spare a glance at Jack, taking in how a pinkish hue decorates the surface of his cheeks as his lone hand goes to scratch the back of his neck. The timidity that clouds his movement evokes a simper out of you, one that you direct into your cup, its contents rapidly draining under the weight of your continued conversation.

“Oh, man. Maybe, I shouldn’t have asked that,” he jokes, smile all pearly white and heart fluttering. “Can’t blame a guy for being nervous, no?”

“Nerv-”

Suddenly, the kitchen door bursts open and a flood of drunken students come barrelling in, hollering as their drinks splash to the floor and chaos ensues. You’re just as confused at their unexpected appearance as you are at the comment Jack made, but before you have a chance to ponder further, a warm hand settles against the small of your back followed by the gentle waft of Jack’s aftershave, a mixture sea salt with a hint of lavender and spicy nutmeg. It takes everything in you for your knees not to buckle.

“Let’s head out back.” he whispers, breath fanning over your neck as his fingertips ignite fire against your skin.

Abruptly, you clear your throat, mindlessly nodding along as you blindly follow him out back, Jack’s larger build serving as a shield of sorts as he seamlessly navigates his way through the hordes of students. He does so with your hand in his and as much as your internal monologue unleashes panicked squeals at the contact, you revel in his touch - calloused hands that hold yours like porcelain, warm hands that match together like the universe and all its stars.

A cool breeze blankets your skin and your focus shifts from your inner thoughts, taking in the generous and lush green outdoor space with sparse camping chairs circling a bonfire and a large tree further up ahead draped in fairy lights. There’s some people here too, but the atmosphere is a 180 from the mayhem inside, hushed light-hearted conversations exchanged beside the lit bonfire with the faint smell of weed filtering through the crisp air. The dazzling fairy lights blind you into bumping into Jack’s back, apologising with a laugh before he collapses onto the daisy white hammock before you.

You follow suit with the carefree attitude Jack gives you, but you miscalculate horrendously because you don’t fall into the place beside your crush, but into his lap. Shock runs through your veins like ice as your bewilderment freezes you in place, mouth gaping open as you turn to face Jack in absolute horror. He seems to fare better with the unexpected contact, enlarged azure eyes showing his awe and yet his hands are in all the right places - supporting your waist as your weightless body struggles to hold its own.

“I’m-“ the hairs on your neck are standing and you’re close to crying, the heat of your mortification burning your body hot like a furnace. “-so sorry. I didn’t-I didn’t even-“

“Relax, you’re good,” the chill of his beer against your skin sends a shiver down your spine, the feeling intensifying by the thousands as Jack’s thumb gives your exposed skin the smallest caress. You’re sure you’re the personification of shock at how every inch of your features displays pure alarm. “Unless this was your plan?”

You’re shoving him before your brain is able to comprehend its commands, your flustered state leaping out of his lap and collapsing back alongside him this time, hands clasped over your eyes as you take the time to maybe calm down. “What frat house even has a hammock anyways?”

“Rachel - Z’s girl - thought it’d be a nice touch for the garden,” you hear Jack mumble, but you’re too busy nursing your ego to fully immerse in conversation. “You’re friends with her, right? You guys came in together.”

“Keeping an eye out for me, Hughes?”

Apparently, your ego isn’t as bruised to make such a comment, a smirk finding itself onto the surface of your face as you’ve yet to remove your hand from your vision.

“It’s hard to keep my eyes off you.”

You freeze in place, the heaviness in your stomach incomparable with the hammering of your heart against your chest as your brain picks apart Jack’s comment at the speed of light. None of the comments Jack has made throughout your entire conversation have gone over your head, the flirty undertones as clear as day. He wasn’t as up front with his compliments when you two first started working together, the furthest compliment he’d given denoting how nice you looked despite rolling out of bed twenty minutes beforehand. His directness makes your eyebrows furrow, or rather his intentions have you looking around as if you could find some answers. Perhaps this is how Jack is at parties - all pleasant with a careful flirtation that gradually pulls you inwards. Or maybe, this simply is the case of him showing his interest in you. The concept is not lost on you, but there is still apprehension that manifests within you, for reasons you are yet to discover.

You’re about to say something, your parted lips issuing a single incoherent syllable that dissolves on your tongue when the faint murmur of country music from a group of guys up ahead takes your notice, Jack’s nose scrunching with delight as he exclaims, “Ah, what a banger.”

Your eyebrow quirks upwards, merriment spreading against your features. “I never pegged you as the country type.”

“Well, I’m not a Drake guy, I’ll tell you that much.” Jack shifts in his seat, extending his arm out behind your back.

“So, a belieber then?” you jester, taunting eyebrows raised as you can’t keep your snicker to yourself when you watch Jack roll his eyes with the same grin.

“If that makes you happy, then yeah,” Jack reasons nonchalantly, whereas you make a pathetic attempt at stopping the stammer in your chest. “But no, that’s pretty much all that plays when my brothers and I wakesurf in the summer, unless Z is on the aux. Then, he and Quinn have a go at each other for it.”

Chuckles emit from your lips as you picture the image of a sunny summer day out on a boat, Jack’s older brother, Quinn, and Trevor becoming enemies of silence as they bicker over music choices. A warm fuzziness embraces you, the image placing you right beside Jack as laughter bubbles between the two of you whilst Luke wakesurfs in the background. It’s a honeyed depiction, all rose-tinted and for you to hold close to your heart along with other fantasies you allow yourself to entertain.

“We’re planning on going back to our summer house upstate where we do loads of other stuff,” Jack trails off, his fingers tapping against the glass of his bottle as you two share a look between each other. His eyes flicker downwards almost immediately, the top of his ears crimsoning. “You should stop by sometime. It’d be good to see you over the summer.”

For someone as confident as Jack, these rare glimpses of timidity demonstrate themselves as a pure anomaly. So, you can imagine your surprise at not only his incredibly generous offer but also his sheepish demeanour; gaze never aligning with yours as you feel his fingers fiddle with the material of the hammock behind your back. The sight enamours you, a rush of endearment washing over you as you lean into the feeling, not bothering to hide the wide smile growing across the expanse of your face.

If this is what awaits you at their summer house, you’re already packed and ready to go.

“I could be persuaded.” Jack’s already rolling his eyes and against his better judgement, he finds himself chuckling with you too.

When your amusement blends into the night sky, Jack's eyelids fall halfway, gaze steady as he mirrors your prior smirk that’s all but gone with the quiet wind. “And, what would that involve?”

A moment is shared between the two of you. Burning bright like a star and erupting fireworks in your fingertips as your eyes linger on one another longer than explanatory. The landscape of his dotted moles capture your attention first, your sight leading itself to the galaxy-like twinkle dazzling in the ocean blue of his eyes. It’s so precious, this point in time - so delicate and intimate that it feels like a secret, whispers of infatuation pulling you together by their invisible strings as Jack’s extended arm circles your shoulders. You lean in, the temptation of his lips calling your name. Earlier restlessness ceases to exist as your movements read as second nature, the bruising of your chest accompanying the fuzziness that dances in your stomach as Jack leans into too.

“Yo, Jack!”

The moment is all but gone, burst like a bubble as both your heads turn in the direction of the voice, spying one of Jack’s friends, Cole, standing on the porch with a hand clasped around his mouth.

“Get your ass in here, we’re playing Jenga!”

A string of unpleasantries filter through Jack’s mouth in the form of a murmur, remnants of your interrupted kiss lingering as Jack gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze and gives you the most apologetic look you’ve ever seen. Puppy eyes and pouty lips, an image you lock away in your heart forever.

“Did you wanna head in?” He gives you the choice, head tilted to the side as he studies your expression whilst you ponder the inquiry.

The almost kiss is something to behold and if this has occurred weeks prior amidst the intensity of your crush, you would have begged and pleaded to stay, hinging on the hopes of whatever this is being fabricated once again to fulfil your fondness dreams. But, this feels different. It feels sold, as opposed to balancing upon shaky possibilities. This is undeniable, a point in time that is infinite and kissed upon by destiny. A junction you can return to time and time again.

“Yeah, I’m sure my friends are looking for me anyways,” you unravel yourself from Jack’s loose grip, hoisting yourself up before you turn to face him with a soft beam. His expression reads unsure, gaze scattered before he looks upwards before your sneakers knock against his impossibly white Air Forces. You nod towards the house, the giddiness building within you exceptional as your hand extends out to meet his. “Let’s head in together?”

It comes out more of a question than a statement, but you could care less when Jack gives you that soft smile that’s only reserved for you, grabbing a hold of your hand after he brings himself off the hammock before you proceed to return back to the party.

The bustling atmosphere appears to have maintained itself in your absence, hundreds of conversations mixing in with the booming sounds of some bass heavy hip hop song. You nod your head to the beat, grinning when you see familiar faces in the crowd as you trail behind Jack yet again, following him in promise of your friends who Cole had mentioned joined their group’s game of Jenga. You make do with getting down the stairs of the basement without tumbling due to their frigid nature, face instantly lighting up as you catch sight of your friends, collapsing into a fit of excited hugs and shared giggles as you all catch up on the events of the party.

Amidst all the dialogue, some of which you’re assuming Jack’s sorority brothers and friends make quick work of getting the bare room ready, arranging beers for everyone as the box of Jenga is brought out. The weight of concentrated eyes seers into your goosebump-riddled skin and by the time you volunteer to assemble the Jenga tower, you’re more than aware of Jack’s attention on you. Even with how overflowing the confidence you possessed was as you left the back garden, the heat of his gaze reduces you to a sheepish mess, antsy hands uncertain of their movements as you attempt to achieve some standard of normalcy, your eyes avoiding his. It’s when your hands accidentally touch that you cannot avoid it much longer, peering through clumpy eyelashes with a flush that feels as vivid as painted glass.

A lone corner of his lips inclines, his look of allurement tangled with blatant attraction enough to make you knock over some of the Jenga pieces. A deep chorus of disapproving sounds holler at your actions, your sheepishness fended off by the laughter amongst you and Jack as you continue to assemble the tower again, this serving as the last of your communication before the Jenga game commences.

Every Jenga piece taken out of the tower involves a dare that has laughter erupting from the pits of your stomach or mouth gaping open at the gull others possess whilst intoxicated. With the muffled sounds of the music upstairs and endless talk in the room, merriment captures your heart in a gentle squeeze as the dares carry on, the harmless fun quickly becoming one of your favourite memories in recent times.

It’s your turn to go and the frat guys are already teasing you with endearing nicknames, putting a smile on your face as your hands steady to pull out a tricky Jenga piece with ease. Wooden block in hand, your line of vision skims the chicken scratch of a dare with an effortless glee that’s swiftly replaced with plentiful surprise.

“What does it say?!’ exclaims Trevor, the anticipation in his voice evident as he squeals his words.

You’re reducing to your meek self again, not daring to look upwards as you enunciate your words to aid your own comprehension. “Spend seven minutes in heaven with the player across from you.”

You’re unsure whether the universe has some really good jokes up their sleeve or this is just fate to begin with because when you lift your head up, already knowing, Jack’s amused facial expression speaks for itself.

Hollers and cheers fill the room, enough pandemonium to make you crimson as you stumble to your feet, casting a peek at your best friend with a cross between disbelief and delight. Your best friend, the same one that texted you about Jack’s presence at the party tonight, bawls her hand into a tight fist, bringing it to her chest as a sign of victory with mischief painted all over her. The ridiculousness of this farce eliminates you from ruminating about what awaits you in the closet a mere metres away. The guy most pleased with the situation opens the closet door, a few brooms pushed back into the compact space that is surprisingly clean with no cobwebs or dust in sight.

“All clean and ready for you two lovebirds,” Trevor grins with the keenness of a kid in a candy store, pushing back his long locks of hair as he sends a wink your way. “Don’t get too carried away in there, you’ve only got seven minutes.”

Jack says something in reply to Trevor’s cheeky comment but you’re too preoccupied by your own thoughts, feet carrying you to the fate of your Jenga dare as the door closes and darkness shrouds you.

It’s silent for a minute, nothing but soft breaths and dulled whispers from outside the closet door. The closet is dangerously compact, your back up against the wall not sparing you from establishing your own personal space, the slightest shift of your shoes inevitably going to knock against Jack’s. Outside in the back garden feels so far away now, slipping through your hands as if sand with the daunting weight of unsaid expectations folding your arms and clearing a stubborn croak in your throat.

As the seconds tick on and no communication is shared, the everlasting laps you round around your mind exhaust you for the last time and you decide to face whatever this is head on, a start being making eye contact with the man that makes it the hardest thing in the world. However, with the tiniest sliver of dimmed light peaking through underneath the closet door, you can see him. Jack, in all his glory - soft and boyish, all charming in nature. The round pool blue of his eyes and the moles that dot his skin like constellations. It’s a rush of emotions, all raw and bare, to overwhelm and comfort you, with the easiness of his smile that directs your way and warms your heart like no other.

“We don’t have to do anything in here, I’d never do anything to make you uncomfortable,” Jack explains, his hand reaching to drag down one side of his face as his eyes cast away. “I hope you know that.”

This - you feel resolute in - establishing some sense of security in this room as you smile up at Jack. “The thought didn’t even cross my mind.”

There’s a double meaning in your words and you don’t bother to correct yourself, reading in between the lines cementing itself as your favourite pastime. But, Jack knows and so do you. Perhaps you knew all along that every nook and cranny in your heart was specially reserved for Jack and no other could do. Maybe, you spent so much time in your head because this unexplored territory felt like the birth of the universe, so big and beautiful that it had more questions than answers. A forbidden fruit of sorts - a sweet mirage that the more you pulled away, gravity pulled you right back. A place where you belonged - with him in this moment forever sealed between the two of you.

Jack offers a smile in the wake of your thoughts, timid yet teasing in nature and you can’t resist, in the almost dark of the closet, grin too because this was sealed from the very beginning. Alone with infamous fratboy Jack Hughes, under some sort of awkward pretence bringing you together because you let your fears get the best of you, a stark contrast to what they are now - engulfed in thoughts, feelings of your lips against his and how this charade will come to a close, the building tension boiling till it overflows

“Hey-” you both say at the same time, silencing as you chuckle at the unison you unite in.

“Ladies first.”

“I’m more interested in what you have to say.”

Because there’s no doubt in your mind he’ll steal the words right out of your mouth, the mere thought of those words escaping his lips the centre of all your desires.

He pauses, eyes searching yours for confirmation which presents itself in the toothy grin he struggles not to reflect, canine sinking into the corner of his lips before he responds, “If you insist.”

Jack doesn’t miss a beat as he reaches for your hand, absently tracing patterns into the skin with a thoughtful hum that proceeds his words.

“I think I’ve been a lot more straightforward with how I feel about you, but I’d like to chance to tell you right here that I’m interested in you, in being with you. To the point that the boys get sick of me yapping about it,” you chuckle at his comment, the humour of the joke distracting you from the flood of emotions that submerges you indefinitely. “I felt this way from the time we got assigned to work together. And, if maybe you had any reservations about us, I’d do whatever it takes so that they don’t exist because you’re what matters most and that will never change.”

No feeling can compare to this. It’s almost as if you’re experiencing the full spectrum of emotions for the first time, rejoicing in the sunshine Jack basks upon you in the wake of his confession. A mirage turned reality, the colours are bright and blinding and you’re so elated within yourself that you physically cannot do more than bring Jack’s hand to your cheek to kiss his palm. A confirmation that needs no words.

The warmth of his hand against your cheek melts you into his skin, eyelids falling shut as you revel in the tender caresses of his thumb, of his love and the unspoken words between you. A graze against your throat has your eyes fluttering open, lips parted as Jack secures his hand gently against the nape of your neck. A soft inhale escapes you as his thumb traces the corner of your mouth, dilated pupils flickering between your own and your lips.

“Can I-”

“Yes, please.”

A star is born at the centre of your lips as they fold over one another, blending seamlessly together as you move together in synchronised harmony. You taste the remnants of beer, inhale his musky cologne and send yourself flying into another universe as Jack holds you close for impact. All your brain knows to do is convey your sentiment tenfold, kissing him as if touch starved as your fingers thread through the curls of his hair. You commit this to memory - the slowness of the kiss, the scent of his apple shampoo and his curls around your fingers, the feathery feeling of your fluttering heart and the tenderness of your hearts beating as one. So sickeningly besotted with another that everything pales in comparison.

Reluctantly, you pull away from his soft lips when the shared oxygen between you two vanishes, eyes slow to open but ultimately capturing the part of Jack’s rouge lips that quiver in your wake, his gaze meeting yours moments later.

You kiss him again for good measure.

“Alright, horny bastards. Time’s up!” Cole’s voice thunders from beyond the door.

Lips still pressed against Jack’s, you both smile into one last kiss, just as sweet as the last. Jack savours it for what it’s worth, forehead pressed against yours as you two stand together, bruised chests aching with all the yearning that can fit into your palms.

“Consider me persuaded.”

#jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #nhl #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes imagine #nhl imagine #nhl hockey #hockey #jack hughes fic #nhl fanfiction #jack hughes one shot #residenthughes

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incendiobrock · 7 days

Text

Driving Lessons {Chris Sturniolo}

Request: Linked here!

Prompt(s): A teaching B to do something and B totally fails + "Hey, hey, don't cry"

Warnings: slight language (only like one word tbh), nothing but fluff!!!

You and Chris had been dating for almost a year. More often than not you were the designated driver, especially when Matt wasn't available to drive, since Chris had never gotten his license. Chris would always check with you to make sure you didn't mind driving him around, either offering to take an Uber or just waiting until Matt was free.

"If you don't feel like it please just tell me. I really don't mind waiting for Matt..." Chris spoke softly, feeling bad that he had woken you up early this morning to ask to drive him to the doctors office for an appointment.

"Baby, it's no problem! If you wait on Matt you're going to be late. Let me get dressed and then we can go, okay?" You reassured him, knowing that this wasn't the first instance he had felt guilty for asking you to drive him somewhere.

Eventually, Chris' guilt was getting the best of him. He needed to learn how to drive, even if it scared him, because you deserved to be driven around too. So, one night as you were laying on the couch together, basking in each others company, he had asked if you would be able to help him practice his driving. You happily agreed, offering the use of your car in case Matt and Nick needed to use the van.

It was late by the time you had pulled into the empty Target parking lot, thinking it would be the best place for Chris to practice driving. Chris swapped seats with you positioning himself behind the wheel of your car. You watched longingly as he readjusted the seat and the mirrors to his height, his tongue slightly poking out over his bottom lip in concentration. "Okay, I think they are good." He said, letting out a nervous sigh.

"Okay babe, we can do this at your pace don't stress too much. I know you'll do great!" You said, rubbing his left arm as he took a hold of the steering wheel, placing his hands ten and two. "Alright, I'm just going to drive around in a big circle?" He asked, staring straight ahead at the empty lot. You nodded in response, removing your hand from his upper arm so he could focus.

His hand found the gear shift, putting it into drive and gently pressing his foot down on the accelerator. As he made his way through the parking lot you couldn't help but look up and notice the stars decorating the night sky. Since you were normally the one driving you couldn't pay attention to the little things that made a night drive so enjoyable; like the stars and moon, or the way the cool night air felt if you cracked the windows. Chris successfully made a loop around the parking lot, beaming with joy at his accomplishment.

His nerves left his body as he continued to make his way around, beginning to zig zag down the rows. He began to get a hang of how the car moved when he would turn the wheel, or how much he needed to step on the gas in order to go an acceptable speed. Chris felt himself relax more and more as his fear of driving began to dissipate.

"Do you want to try something else?" You asked him, admiring how good he looked in the drivers seat of your car.

"What do you have in mind?"

"You could try reversing the car, maybe practicing how to back into a parking spot?" You suggested, reminding him that nobody else was around and that this was just to get him more comfortable behind the wheel.

"Okay, now cut the wheel to the left a little bit more," You instructed, trying to help Chris reverse into a space. His hands glided across the wheel, veering it to the left as he peaked out the rearview mirror. The car jolted forward slightly as Chris slammed onto the breaks. "Oh my god, what was that?" He asked, panic rising in his voice.

He immediately put the car in park as you unbuckled your seatbelt and made your way out of the car, Chris following your actions. You made your way to the back of the car and noticed a Target cart that must've been left out of the cart corral. "Fuck, baby... I'm so sorry. I-I swear I didn't see that behind us." Chris began to apologize, a lump forming in his throat as he noticed the small dent that was in your bumper from the impact. "Oh Chris, it wasn't your fault. The cart was probably just in your blindspot." You replied, unaware of his distressed state. You pulled the cart to the side, moving it out of the way of your car.

Chris stood there silently, feeling horrible about denting your car after you trusted him to drive it. Any ounce of confidence he had gained going around the parking lot earlier was now non existent. Tears filled his eyes as his bottom lip quivered. "Hey, hey, don't cry Chris..." You said, finally registering that he was upset. Quickly, you made your way over to him and pulled him into your arms. His arms snaked around your waist as you cradled his head into your shoulder, smoothing over his hair with your hand. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to dent your car..." His voice trembled as some stray tears hit your shoulder.

"Baby, I know you didn't mean to, please don't cry. I promise you it's okay." You soothed, wishing he wasn't being so hard on himself. When you had first started driving you couldn't even drive above 20mph, he was already doing way better than you and it was only his second time behind the wheel. He pulled away from the hug, keeping his hands on your waist as he looked into your eyes. You gently wiped some tears out from under his eyes, feeling your heart break at the sight of your defeated boyfriend.

After Chris had calmed down you both made your way back into the car. He took his spot back in the passenger seat as you reclaimed the drivers side. Without saying anything, Chris leaned over the center console, capturing your lips in a sweet but firm kiss. You knew it was his way of saying 'thank you', not only for the driving lessons but also for not freaking out about his little accident.

"I love you." You said looking into his eyes as he kept his lips a few inches from yours.

"I love you more." He countered, appreciating how he got so lucky with you. He was ecstatic about the fact that you were his, and nobody else's.

"Alright, let's go to the gas station. I need to get you a celebratory pepsi for facing your fears and practicing your driving!" You said, trying to lighten the mood.

"And some candy?" He asked, jokingly pouting his lips at you.

"And some candy." You giggled, making your way to the nearest store.

#chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #the sturniolo triplets #nicolas sturniolo

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vvampirelust · 4 months

Text

thinking about hooking up with shane mccutcheon…

warnings: smut, top!shane, fingering (r!receiving), thigh riding (kinda), dirty bathrooms, not proof read

It’s typical.

“Can I bum one?” that gravel-like voice asks the question which started it all. Your eyes flick from your freshly-lit cigarette to her. Holy shit. Instinctive alarm bells blare at the mere sight of her. She was hot. hot . hot. The straight-up definition of heartbreaker right before your eyes. And she had sauntered over to you, with a lilt of allure in her tone and a darkness in her half covered eyes, framed by the shaggy locks both jutting out and poking against her face.

You take a drag yourself whilst digging out the pack from your pocket and handing it over to the strangely attractive stranger. “Thank you,” she nods, “Really. What’s your name?” the stranger asks, taking out a cigarette and pressing the end between her lips. You tell her without a second thought and her expression softens instantly. It’s a well performed move. Almost unnoticeable. That smile is so convincing, it's as if this girl has fallen in love simply by hearing your name. And who knows, maybe she has. At least for the moment. Any other instance and you would have obeyed the waving red flag above her head. But tonight, it seems to be working for you. “That’s very pretty. Suits you” she flirts, trading the pack with your lighter. Skin meets skin for a wavering moment. “I’m Shane.”

Oh, yeah. Even if you wind up as just another name in an endless cycle, you couldn’t find it in you to care.

It's fitting.

The dimly lit, sleazy, bathroom of the bar you were outside. The countless cell phone numbers and names stained on the previously dull walls give a hint into the amount of sins committed inside this bathroom. If only walls could talk.

You hope this sin is cherished.

Shane presses you against the nearest surface found since stumbling through the door. Her hands shamelessly wander your body, running up your back, squeezing your waist, hoisting your thigh up to rest at her hip. “You want this?” she breathes against the corner of your mouth. You nod as you let out a sigh of her name. Sweet on your lips. A hushed secret. Your hands run up Shane’s clothed chest, circling her shoulders on your fingers path into her hair. Shane hums, eyes seeking yours at the call of her name, so attentive in their search of your expression.

“Please kiss me.”

You watch Shane’s mouth curl like the flick of a cat's tail. She’s looking at your own mouth, leaning closer in search of the feeling of your lips. Shane kisses you hungrily, expertly. Her lips are surprisingly soft, and warm suckling on your bottom lip, tongue peeking out, already desperate for more. She wastes no time in sliding her tongue into your mouth, moaning lustfully when you meet her with a fierce passion.

Tongues dance and swap spit as Shane pushes your dress up around your hips, fingers teasingly skimming the skin above your lacy waistband. Your fingers tug on her hair, eliciting more huffs to mould with your breathy whines. “Mm fuck” Shane mutters, saliva connecting your mouths as she tilts her head down; Shane’s eyes dart continuously between your face and her hand sliding into your panties, “You’re so fuckin’ hot, and wet.” She cups your cunt, gasping in unison with you, “S’that for me?”

Your chin dips, burying your face into Shane’s neck. You pepper kisses across her skin, becoming hooked onto her scent while playfully mumbling, “No shit.” In truth, you’re shielding your composure, breath not-so-secretly hitching as Shane’s long, slender finger teases your hole in slow circles, tempting you with the fantasy of her just stuffing you.

Shane doesn’t seem too pleased with your response, chuckling softly, “Oh, is that how it is?” she asks with a layer of sass within her tone. You spot a foxy smirk on her lips, looking up at her with hazy eyes as Shane sinks two fingers into your cunt, cooing “yeah?” her voice rasps in a way that makes your tummy flutter, clenching tightly. And she can feel it.

Hot breath fans over Shane’s neck - casting a shiver down her spine - as you moan loudly, latching your teeth into her as if you were a vampire. She sets off at a relentless pace, finger-fucking you in the bar bathroom the way she’s expected to.

There’s no denying, she knows what she’s doing.

It’s evident in the amount of pleasure pulsing….everywhere. Shane’s hips rut in time with the pace of her thrusts, making the experience that much more overwhelming. Small whines escape as you pant against her neck, tongue lapping in the motions of a french kiss.

The sounds are driving her insane. Shane’s clit throbs in her too tight jeans, out of time with the pulsing of your silky walls around her fingers. Non-stop feeling. Shane huffs, shuffling her feet around yours so that she can rut her crotch against your thigh, allowing her jeans to squeeze her nub perfectly. “Ah- shit!”

As your head falls back, your hand drops down to grope at Shane, cupping where the crease of her ass and her thigh meet. Shane chases you, lips finding yours once again to feel your pathetic moans passing into her mouth. Her thumb is bent at just the right angle in her palm to rub your clit as she curls and pushes her fingers deeper into you. If it causes any discomfort, she shows no sign of it. Too focused on making you reach your peak.

She sucks on your tongue, savouring your taste in her mouth. It's messy. Frantic. Slutty. but it's winding you both up faster than you thought possible. You subconsciously rise onto your tiptoes, tingling from the intense stimulation. “Don’t run, baby,” Shane’s free arm wraps around your waist, holding you close to her, her fingers refusing to give up on that spot inside you.

Shane groans in annoyance when a sharp knock manages to overpower the music and your moans. “Fuck off!” she shouts over her shoulder, head whipping right back to you.

“Y’close, babe?” her tone changes like a switch, throaty coo back in her voice, “Your gettin’ tighter…”

You hate how smug she is. But there’s no shame to admit she’s not wrong. The risk of being caught seemed to set your nerves on override, dialling your body heat to the fullest. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop” you chant, “please. gonna cum, fuck fuck.”

A moan slips from Shane’s mouth into yours, hearing the mix of how wet you sound along with how badly you want release. She’s right there too. Humping herself on your thigh is about to have her making a mess of her cotton panties. Most likely soaked through and through.

“It’s good, yeah? Cum, babe, cum with me,” she mutters out through pleasured grunts, forehead pushing against yours as euphoria threatens to crash into this random room. Shane can feel your slick pooling in her palm and she lets go, cursing huskily and trembling.

Your orgasm causes your body to still, wave after wave of pleasure coursing frantically inside of you. Arms hugging Shane close, you ride out your highs together, panting into one another’s mouths. Speaking in a tongue of lust. Moans passing back and forth, heads growing fuzzier as the music thumps through the walls of the bar.

Shane’s body leans into yours, chin falling to your shoulder as her fingers come to a halt within you. The sudden emptiness is gut wrenching but the constant banging on the bathroom doors offers little time for small talk. “Oh my god,” you breathe out, bursting into laughter with the girl who just made you see stars.

She’s still grinning when she sticks her drenched fingers into her mouth, sucking off your cum. Your own laugh falters, panties feeling impossibly damp impossibly fast. Shane almost snorts, “Don’t look at me like that,” despite her voice sounds serious.

Head cocked to look down at you, Shane’s free hand reaches up to brush your hair back into place. “This was fun,” you say, tugging the hem of your dress down to where it should be.

“Yeah,” Shane nods. She licks her lips as she takes what you guess as her last look at you

“Maybe I’ll see you around.”

ignore me posting this earlier…

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fairyofshampgyu · 1 year

Text

Adagio

pairing: subby gyu x dom! reader

genre: smut, fluff

warnings: sleepy lazy morning sex, soft sex, blow job, riding, titty sucking

word count: 1.4k

song: My Cherie Amour - Stevie Wonder

─── ･｡ﾟ☆*.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.───

You awoke to the sunlight seeping in your bedroom through the windows, nearly blinding you as you squint your tired eyes. Being able to hear the birds that always chirp early in the morning and you watched as a petal from the cherry blossom tree that stood just outside flew onto your window sill from leaving it slightly open last night when beomgyu whined he was too hot. You always loved blossom trees. They were so pretty to look at, the tell tale sign that spring had begun.

You swap your gaze to your sleeping boyfriend who lies next to you, snoring softly looking pretty as ever like he always did especially when he was sleeping. It’s moments like this where you think damn, how did I manage to bag this? Heart swelling up at just how cute he looked with his gorgeous eyelashes you’ll never get over touching his cheeks making him even prettier, hair fanned out across the pillowcase, framing his pretty face, soft lips in a little pout as he slept. Sometimes just looking at beomgyu makes you overwhelmed with emotions you just want to cry. It’s disgustingly cringey, you’re aware. But you’re in the mood to feel disgustingly cringey.

You press a kiss to the rounded tip of his absolutely adorable nose that looks even cuter in the mornings. And then give him one more just for good measure. Beomgyu cutely scrunches his nose and flutters his eyes ever slightly open, humming and grinning at you.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty.” You say to him, giggling and softly rubbing his cute nose with your own.

“Mmhhh… good morning, Prince Charming. I’m just so irresistible that you can’t help kissing me even in my sleep huh?” Beomgyu teases, speaking in his gruffy, sleepy morning voice that never fails to drive you a bit crazy— A lot crazy.

He was expecting you to roll your eyes or tell him to shut up like you usually do but you just hum in agreement this time, cupping his puffy face and giving him a kiss on the forehead, “Yeah. You’re a pretty a sleeper.”

He doesn’t know what to say to that, mouth shutting from the comeback he was planning to use as he does that little pouty shy smile thing he does whenever he gets compliments. “Woah what happened to y/n? Who are you?”

You roll your eyes. "Also you got two fairytales mixed up, you fucking doofus. Prince Charming isn't even in sleeping beauty."

“Ah, there they are.” He chuckles.

“Anyway, get up. We gotta organise your party later on and get everything done for it.”

He groans at that, wrapping his arms around your waist tightly and burying his face in the crook of your neck. “I’m way tooooo tired though. Why don’t we just stay in bed together all day instead.”

“Beomgyu. It’s your party. And I wonder why you’re so tired.” You sarcastically say. “Maybee if you weren’t playing video games all night long with heeseung.”

“It wasn’t all night long! You were playing as well. Horrendously, I must add. I’m never letting you be on my team ever again.”

You grab a pillow, hitting it in his face. “You made this so unromantic. I was trying to serenade you with my love and kisses.”

“Ah, please do then. I want kisses.” He puts his lips into a little kissy face.

You sigh but caress his face again, stroking your thumb against his cheek and peppering kisses all on his face and he giggles, feeling ticklish and all mushy inside. He shuts his eyes, liking the feeling and then he’s already in a deep sleep again. Typical.

But you carry on kissing, drifting to his neck where you start to place little love bites and hickeys, he hums at that, signalling he’s somewhat awake right now. And you trail the kisses to his chest.

You rub your thumb in circles on one of his pretty nipples and suck the other, swirling your tongue around the bud and he gives you soft little whimpers in return. Then, you give his waist and cute tummy you adored so much a massive load of kisses. It was just too cute and soft, heaving up and down in his half awake state.

You moved further down, lifting one of his legs up so you can give all your attention to his creamy, plush thighs. Them not being marked yet a crime. So you suck the inside of his thighs until they’re covered and filled with bruises that most likely won’t go until a while, beomgyu restless and whimpering the entire time, his thighs too sensitive.

You sit back once you’re done to admire your work and the beautiful sight, absolutely covered in hickeys from the neck, chest, stomach and thighs.

“You look so fucking gorgeous marked baby. Should be marked like that all the time.”

“Need you please…” Beomgyu whispers and whines out, sleepily, eyes still closed.

“Yeah?” Beomgyu nods his head fast for you and so you take his hard dick out, slowly wrapping your lips around them and he whimpers continuously as you start to suck him off in his sleepy state, bobbing your head back and forth on his cock which was dribbling little beads of cum. One of your hands, gripping the flesh of his thigh tightly, making him moan even more.

You pull off of him for a second to spit a little bit of saliva onto his tip before you go back to work, thigh twitching and dick jerking as you continue to give him a blowjob.

"You can cum, baby." You tell him when he’s close which extracts the prettiest whines out of him, popping him out of your mouth so you can see him make a pretty mess of himself on his thighs and stomach.

He's even more tired now and so are you but you slowly get on top of him, kissing him in the process and lining up his sticky dick to your entrance. Ever so slowly, sinking down on him, the both of you lifting your heads back and groaning.

You ride beomgyu lazily and leisurely, feeling like you could probably go to sleep again anytime soon. Lips never leaving his as even your mouths moved slow against each other.

"Hold…" Beomgyu whimpers out, extending his hand for you and you intertwine and lace your fingers with his. Hand holding one of his favourite things and it always made you so soft.

You pick up your movements but not very significantly, sloppily and very lazily pumping his dick in and out of you with the slickness of his previous orgasm and your own wetness.

He throws an arm over his head, lips parted, eyebrows furrowed, eyes shut and look on his face pure ecstasy, both of you losing yourself in the pleasure and he elicits the most mellifluous sounds ever. His moans literally the prettiest to your ears, especially right now in the morning.

You reconnect your lips to his, kissing him feverishly, literally devouring every quiet soft moan he lets out into your mouth. His pretty lips quivering and eyes fluttering open and closed, grasping your hand so tight and he draws out the longest, loudest and most gorgeous moan of your name ever to exist before he’s cumming heaps into you, both of you cumming together, eyes rolling to the back of your heads.

Beomgyu pants, exhausted, and then rolls on top of you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his face in your chest contently. He lays on you like this for a little while, then he looks up at you with big puppy eyes and a pout, “Wanna suck your tits.” Spoilt, but you’ll let him have his way today.

He instantly lifts your shirt up, latching his pretty round lips onto one and groping and kneading the other, eyelids blissfully closed as he sucked and left wet kisses and bruises on your chest, swapping every now and then so he can give both attention, he lets out a little whimper just from sucking your tits.

You move his hair out of his face, giving him a peck on his forehead. Beomgyu’s eyes begin to get heavy and he’s already drifting off to sleep again, mouth still latched onto your nipple and face resting in your chest, you a few minutes from sleep again as well.

“I love you. I’m genuinely being serious, I’m fucking in love with you. You’re like…my favourite person in the entire world. You are my world- okay ew nevermind. I was trying to be romantic and poetic but it didn’t work. But I really do love you. Happy Birthday, gyu.”

Beomgyu hums in acknowledgement with a soft lazy smile appearing on his face, a little incoherent ‘love you’ coming out of his mouth which was still on your tits and you both fall asleep cuddling.

Please actually reblog !! and comment !!!! if you like the fic. It’s really appreciated tysm !<3🙏💕😊 It’s discouraging when fics have such little reblogs 🤨👎Feedback is always appreciated it makes me happy :)

A/n: we love being delusional 😍😍 I never reread this bc I couldn’t bring myself to so if it’s actually bad I’m sorry 😭 ANYWAY ITS BEOMGYUS BIRTHDYAJSND I LOVE HIM SM I HOPE HE HAS A GOOD DAY CRYING CRYING CRYING FIGHTING BLEEDING LOSING I LOVE HIM !!🎉💕🫶

#beomgyu smut #txt smut #beomgyu x reader #sub!idol #sub!beomgyu #txt headcanons #dom!reader #txt scenarios #sub txt #choi beomgyu smut #choi beomgyu x reader #beomgyu imagines #txt imagines #beomgyu fluff #kpop smut #sub idol #sub beomgyu

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dxxdhood · 3 months

Text

convince me

pairing: wade wilson x gn!reader

summary: deadpool forced me to write smut where the two of you act out the position you see in an,,,, ahem,,, erotic video.

tags: smut (18+), fingering, penetration, slight degradation, finger sucking, dom!wade wilson, sub!reader

wc: 1.2k

“Babe, listen, the mistake we made was going to White Castle sober.”

“Excellent defense, Mr. Wilson. You ever think about switching to a career in law?”

“Can’t, my tagline doesn’t transfer across professions. Calling yourself the Lawyer with the Mouth is like saying you’re the fanfic writer who’s horny.”

He manages to make you chuckle, as usual, even though you were supposed to still be annoyed about your frankly terrible dinner. But walking back into your apartment has you less inclined to hold grudges, somehow. It’s probably the promise of cuddling up in bed together. Either that, or it’s all the hilarious nicknacks Wade keeps dropping off in your living room. The fucked-up Pikachu plush where the eyes and cheeks are swapped is particularly getting to you.

“Wait for me in bed, alright?” you say.

“Oh?” Wade waggles his non-existent eyebrows. “Is this little cutie planning something?”

“Yeah, planning to spend an hour in the bathroom,” you shake your head and fail to hold back a smile. “Find us a good movie to watch while I’m out.”

To nobody’s surprise, you both end up on a site that starts in p and ends in hub.

“Nobody can get into that position,” your inner critic bursts out of you at the best of times.

You can feel Wade smirking from where his face is tucked into your neck, cuddling you from behind. “Well, in the words of Clue 1985,” he runs a scarred hand down your waist. “Sure, they can. Let me show you.”

He nips at your neck, kissing at the sensitive skin of your jaw. You exhale, trying to calm the burning sensation building in your gut, but you struggle to stay patient when he starts sucking a bruise into your collarbone.

“Wade!” you gasp, trying and failing to stop your body from grinding your ass against him. He responds in turn, moving closer to you, his hard cock slowly rubbing against your ass.

He flips over, now perched on top of you and caging you in, arms on either side of your head as he kisses you. Every time he deepens the kiss, makes you feel like you’ll never want to come back up for air, he fucks with you by biting at your bottom lip or scratching his teeth against your gums.

You bang your fists against the mattress a few too many times, understandably annoyed with his teasing, so Wade grips both of your wrists with one hand and holds them above you, plastering them to the headboard.

The action has you moaning into his mouth, and the bottom half of your body continues to move on its own, grinding against the air now. You feel so desperate, your face heats up thinking about how much of a mess you already are for him. Wishing he would close the new gap between your bodies, you arch your back off the bed, trying to feel more of his body against yours.

He giggles, watching you wriggle around. “Hold your horses there, cutie. We’re not even at the good part yet.”

Wade brings a hand up to your face, rubbing his thumb across your cheek. You’re so thrown off by the sudden show of affection that you don't even process him slipping a rough finger into your mouth.

“Suck,” he commands. And something about Wade only using a single word when he’s usually so noisy has you whining as you circle his finger with your tongue.

His big brown eyes are glued to your lips, watching them worship his finger like he’s all you’ve ever wanted. Around the time you start bobbing up and down his finger, he slips it out of you and pats your cheek.

“Good baby, such a good slut for me,” he whispers as he slides your shorts and underwear off in one motion. He slicks up the finger and you with a small bottle of lube and carefully starts slipping into your entrance.

“What? Where’d you even–” you snap your gaze sideways to your bedside table, which is curiously unopened.

He taps the front pocket of his pants, “Never leave home without it.” Did he really always have that in his pocket? At the fucking White Castle?!

He talks as he fingers you, pressing against your walls casually as if he isn’t making you lose your mind. “You look impressed, babe. Tell me you’re not impressed.”

“Oh my god, shut up!” you groan as he reaches deeper inside you, adding another finger and stretching you further.

“As you wish,” he pumps his fingers at a faster pace, gripping your hip with one hand and bringing his face to your chest so he can lick at a nipple. A spark shoots down your spine and you can feel him chuckle as your body starts to shiver.

His fingers are pounding against your insides. You can feel yourself throbbing around him, clenching and wanting more, so he adds a third finger and fucks you at a punishing pace. You bite your own lip to keep back what was going to be an embarrassing moan, but he nips at your nipple and you let out a small shout.

Just as he finally starts reaching at that spot in you that has you seeing stars, he slips his fingers out. You're going to berate him for throwing you off just as the pleasure was building, but he already has his cock placed at your entrance, so close to sliding in.

“You ready?” he whispers, and you nod so quickly you think you may have pulled a muscle.

He releases a breathy moan as he slides all the way in you, reaching right where you need him but still stubbornly not giving it to you.

“Wade, move!” you cry. He responds by smacking your ass and pulling you into his lap. You’re seated on his thighs as he throws your legs over his shoulders, folding you in half as he starts thrusting in and out of you. The position has you feeling so much closer to him, like he has free reign to stroke every part of you.

You grip onto his shoulders and try to interlock your ankles together to help you hold onto him as he pumps his cock into you faster. Wade moans so deep it sounds like a growl and you clench around him at the sound.

“Fuck!” he cries before kissing you, harshly making out as his hips continue to piston inside you. You can feel the vibrations of his moans against your own mouth, and it’s enough to make your muscles twitch around him again.

“Shit, Wade,” you whisper. “I’m going to–”

“Yeah, babe?” he says in between kissing you. “Go, do it. Come for me.”

You rip away from his mouth and release with a moan, your entire body burning as you quiver around his cock. He leans his head into your neck and bites down on the juncture between your neck and shoulder as he comes, filling you so completely you never want him to leave.

You finally come down from your orgasm and relax in his lap, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. Wade is still panting, but he keeps kissing across your face, smiling when you reciprocate and kiss his forehead.

“You’re making every thought that passes through my head sound like an ABBA song,” he whispers, eyes closed.

“That might be the closest thing to a love confession I’ve gotten out of you.”

#wade wilson smut #deadpool smut #wade wilson x reader #deadpool x reader #wade wilson x gn! reader #gn reader #dom character #sub reader #deadpool x gn! reader #marvel smut #marvel #deadpool #wade wilson #smut

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little-diable · 8 months

Text

I wish I didn’t, but I do - Aaron Hotchner (smut)

Listen, I’m currently on a run with writing pwp, but I ain’t sorry for it. Y’all just have to endure it. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves.xxx

Summary: The reader and Aaron have to share a bed as they hunt yet another unsub, but Aaron growing jealous of an officer flirting with the reader just makes things even worse; pwp

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, oral, choking, dom!Aaron, degrading, jealousy, one bed trope, colleagues to lovers, age gap (without any age specified)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader (2.3k words)

“You okay?” Her voice was quiet, dripping with tiredness as she sipped on her coffee, eyes set on Aaron. He was wearing his all too familiar frown, only nodding his head, rereading through their new files for what appeared to be the hundredth time. (Y/n) kept looking at him for a few more moments before she turned away from him with a sigh, gaze finding the blurring by clouds.

Yet another case was calling them away from home, flying across the country to follow the few details they had so far, hoping to find their unsub. It was a cruel case, a bloody case, a case that would keep them all up for nights on end, and yet neither of them even dared to think about sitting this one out. Like lost pilgrims making their way through unfamiliar territories, focused on their final destination.

Tiredness swapped through (y/n)‘s system, forcing her eyes to flutter close. It took her a few seconds to grow calm, letting a yawn claw through her. Within another second she felt Aaron move next to her, shuffling closer to allow (y/n) to rest her head on his shoulder. Even though her tiredness guided her, her mind didn’t stop racing, hyperfocusing on the man sitting next to her.

It had been years since (y/n) had joined the team, following them through the country to chase unsubs. And even though she had stumbled into this circle of colleagues, forming their own family, she still hasn't adapted to being around Aaron Hotchner. He was everything she wasn’t, perhaps that’s what kept her curious, but deep down (y/n) was all too aware of what kept her mind chained to the thought of Aaron. Details that forced her mind to work all through the nights where she desperately needed to catch up on much needed hours of sleep.

……

“Who’ll room with who?” (Y/n) barely paid Aaron’s words any of her attention, eyes focused on her phone. Since she had used the past hours to sleep, she was now reading through their files, trying to remember all the little details they needed to keep on building the profile.

“(Y/n)?” This time Aaron managed to grasp her attention, wide eyes flickering up from the screen of her phone. “You’re with me.”

It took her a second to jump into action, choking on the surprised breath of air leaving her. Her body followed Aaron through the small hotel, into the room they’d share for the upcoming days. Neither of them said a word as they took in the double bed, well neither of them said a word to the other that is.

Wrapped in a blanket of silence the both of them unpacked their bags, cherishing the calmness this room offered till the moment where they’d leave to drive towards the police station. Her fingers tingled, just like the rest of her body, desperately wanting to reach out to Aaron, wanting to feel his hands pressed against her skin - mere dreams that could probably get her fired if she’d ever speak them out loud.

She felt his eyes on her, following (y/n) around like a gun trying to focus on a target, preparing to pull the trigger. Would he speak up? Would he ask her for her opinion on something? But Aaron kept quiet, unlike her spiraling thoughts, focusing on the scent of his ever present cologne clinging to her like a memory of a day she wouldn’t ever want to forget.

As if she could ever forget about Aaron Hotchner.

……

“What was that?” Aaron’s voice boomed through the black SUV, words shaking through (y/n)‘s tense body. She was heavily breathing, just like he was, riled up by the sudden wave of anger leaving him to try and drown her.

“What was what, Aaron?” His eyes momentarily flickered from the road ahead to meet hers. Perhaps he hadn’t expected (y/n) to match the angry tone of his voice. Perhaps he had thought that she’d instantly understand what he was hinting at. But she wasn’t, not understanding what he wanted from her at all.

“Flirting while we’re on the clock? Do you realise how unprofessional you made yourself appear?” A humourless laugh left (y/n), eyes zoning in on his handsome features. Every movement, every microexpression of his told her everything she needed to know. No matter how long Aaron has been in their business, he still didn’t manage to hide the jealousy thumping through his veins, unable to think straight.

“Are you kidding me right now? Please tell me you’re fucking kidding me right now, Aaron.” With his foot finding the break all too quickly the SUV screeched to a halt. Both were heavily breathing, eyes connected for a few more seconds till he undid his seatbelt, stepping out of the car. She followed him into the hotel, teeth buried in her lower lip to try and keep quiet, at least till they’d find some kind of shelter in their shared room.

“I didn’t expect this kind of behaviour from you; not from you (y/n). Do you think this is some kind of joke? Do you think we have enough time on our hands to just-“ no further word managed to leave the tall man, forced to shut up by (y/n)’s lips finding his. She was seething, every inch of her body burned in anger, but the desperate need to prove to Aaron that she had no interest in the officer who had been a tad bit too friendly with her kept her moving.

Aaron instantly replied to the kiss, hands finding her sides as her fingers worked on shuffling his suit jacket down his muscular arms. Their hearts were racing, lungs burning due to the lack of air filling them, lips already somewhat swollen.

“As a profiler you should have noticed my feelings for you by now, Aaron. I didn’t speak more than three words with the officer, I promise.” The confession was whispered against his lips, not daring to part, anxiously waiting for his reply. Aaron’s fingers found her chin, forcing (y/n) to look at him once again. No longer was his expression filled with anger and hatred, growing softer with every passing second.

“Well, it seems like we both don’t know how to do our job. I was jealous of him, I didn’t like the way he looked at you. But you still need to be punished, you need to learn your lesson, sweetheart.” With a gasp rippling through her, (y/n) was pushed onto the mattress, staring up at Aaron with wide eyes. She was forced to watch the man undo the buttons of his sleeves, rolling the fabric of his black dress shirt up to his elbows. “Take off your clothes for me.”

(Y/n) instantly snapped into motion, not breaking eye contact once. One by one her clothing pieces fell to the ground, exposing her goosebump covered body to his hungry eyes. Aaron settled between her thighs, eyes breaking contact with hers to look at her cunt, groaning at the sight of her arousal glistening on her skin.

“You’re soaked, baby. What a pathetic slut you are, I haven’t even touched you yet, but you’re already dripping. Tell me, do you enjoy seeing me angry?” A gasp left (y/n) as Aaron brushed his fingers through her slit, spreading her arousal on her pulsing bundle of nerves, slowly moving in circular motion. “Speak up when you’re told to.”

“Fuck, yes I do.” She hated how her voice trembled, making her appear even more desperate, but (y/n) didn’t find the time to spend her trembling voice any of her attention, head thrown back as Aaron’s mouth found her heat, rough tongue brushing over her folds. No words were spoken as he wrapped one arm around her quivering thigh, fingers teasing her entrance.

He was eating her out like a starving man, needing the taste of her to survive like air flushing through his lungs, the elixir of life humankind has been searching for ever since the start of their timeline.

“What do you think, can you take another?” Aaron’s glistening eyes met her dilated pupils, lust blown, almost fully black. She needed a moment to understand what he was talking about, choking on her moan as Aaron curled his fingers against her swollen spot. “Of course you can, a whore like you likes to be stretched, don’t you?”

(Y/n) couldn’t reply, no longer able to produce any sounds but her moans. She was trembling, shaking, unable to keep her sounds bottled in. Aaron fucked her fast with his fingers, adding yet another as he sucked on her clit, pushing her closer and closer to the edge. He didn’t give her any time to be embarrassed about how quickly her orgasm was approaching, not wanting to hold it back since she had been dreaming about this happening ever since she had met him.

“Aaron, I - oh god,” her breaths grew shallow, hands grasping the blanket she was laying on, trying to claw her fingernails into the fabric as if she was scared that something could try to pull her away from this very moment. He added more speed to the movements of his fingers, tongue brushing against her clit over and over again, till she came with a moan of his name.

(Y/n)’s orgasm rocked through her, sputtering through her veins like a bullet piercing through different layers of wood. One by one. She kept falling, not able to control her body as the intense feeling kept holding her hostage. Aaron looked at her with awe laced in his gaze, smirking against her folds as he slowly rose to his feet.

His cock left a prominent bulge, pressing against the fabric of his dark trousers, begging to be freed. Slowly Aaron pulled his clothes off his body, taking his time, teasingly, building up the tension once again.

(Y/n) was still panting, and yet she couldn’t wait to feel him buried inside of her, fucking her into the mattress like a man on a mission. And on a mission Aaron Hotchner certainly was. He turned from her to fish a condom out of his wallet, connecting their eyes once again as he moved closer, rolling it down his twitching cock before positioning himself against her entrance.

“You can still tell me to stop, I won’t be mad, promise.” His whispers left her smiling, making (y/n) shake her head as she wrapped her arm around his neck, pulling Aaron in for a kiss. Her moans clawed through her, dampened by his kiss as he pushed into her.

Both needed a few seconds to adjust, walls fluttering around him, before Aaron began to build a slow rhythm. Their moans echoed through the room, followed by the sounds of their bodies meeting every few seconds. Both knew that what they were doing was awfully wrong, going against every law they were supposed to follow, and yet neither of them could care about their hierarchy at this very moment, trusting one another fully.

“You’re so fucking tight, fuck, I’ve been waiting to bury myself inside your cunt for years, such a slut for other men and yet you kept away from me for so long. I wish I didn’t love you like this, but I do, fuck.” An almost desperate whine left (y/n), trying to swallow down another moan as her mind began to realize what Aaron just confessed. It took her another deep breath before she could speak up, eyes struggling to stay open.

“I love you too, so much, Aaron.” Another kiss was shared, his thrusts grew rougher, faster, set on properly claiming her. Sobs left (y/n), desperate sounds that only spurred him on to push her towards the edge once again.

Their bodies were intertwined, just like their souls, forming a strong bond that would only grow within time, outliving any fights, any struggles they’d eventually face. Made to love, made to fight, made to grow old together.

„I wanted to kiss you at the station, wanted to claim you as mine right there, in front of his eyes.“ Her walls clenched around his cock, drawing a sharp breath from Aaron. His hand found her throat, pinning her down as he buried himself even deeper inside her tightness. “You would have liked that, am I right, sweetheart?”

“Mhm, yes, I’m yours, only yours.” She was about to let go, struggling to keep on breathing as Aaron tightened his grip on her throat. Her eyes were forced open, staring into his dark pupils, reminding her of the gate of darkness she’d eventually have to cross, finding comfort in the thick blanket he wrapped around her. Once again she called his name, letting go as he fucked her through her high.

A string of curses left Aaron, forcing him to follow her moments later, releasing himself into the condom. Both were panting, chests heavily rising and falling, sharing a kiss or two before he slowly parted from her.

No words were spoken as Aaron took care of her, carefully cleaning her, taking his time with (y/n). Moments later he found himself lying next to her, smiling down on her. Once again her tiredness stuck to her features, forcing a yaw out of her as she kissed his naked chest.

It’ll take them a while to adjust to their new relationship, keeping it a secret for as long as possible, remembering every moment on the nights they’ll share. But no matter what, the two will stick together, clinging to one another for nights and years to come.

#Aaron Hotchner smut #Aaron Hotch imagine #Aaron Hotchner x Reader #criminal minds imagine

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fredwkong · 9 months

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Sneakerhead

(inspired by a prompt from the incredibly welcoming @idesofrevolution )

It started because of some shoes.

Joel really wanted some classic Air Jordans, the 4s, black with red accents. He’d been having some trouble dating lately, passing out of his early 20s, when girls just wanted a guy who used deodorant. In their late 20s girls wanted shit like 401(k)s and moving in together. Joel’s solution? Date younger.

To do that, he needed some new style. He’d been grabbing streetwear for a while, but the Js would be the centrepiece, what he needed to perfectly set off distressed jeans and an oversized flannel. With his slender frame and boyish looks, with some new style Joel was sure his clean lifestyle would attract plenty of younger dates.

The shoes remained elusive, however. Too expensive to buy new, impossible to thrift. Finally, a gay guy acquaintance of Joel’s mentioned Sneaker Swap, a trade/sale site. He offered to send Joel a special invite link, an unreadable look in his eyes. Apparently this link would fast track Joel’s account progress somehow, give him unique access to shoes. Some gay kink thing, probably, Joel thought.

When he got home from the bar where he and the guy had met up, Joel followed the link and downloaded the app. The app took a while to load, he noticed, but the loading spiral was pretty nice to look at, so it was fine. It was one of the Js in the middle of several swirling concentric circles with a rainbow pattern.

Finally, the app loaded, inviting Joel to make an account. He input his shoes size, blinking at the afterimage of the spiral in his vision. When the main page loaded, and sneakers started to populate across the screen, his dick jumped unexpectedly, probably a side effect of being so close to finally having his Js and getting a date.

The guy Joel finally ended up buying his Js from lived across town, so Joel drove to his house to make the trade. As soon as he pulled up, he noticed a rainbow flag in the front window. The guy had seemed pretty intelligent and straightforward while Joel negotiated, but when he opened the door the guy seemed totally out of it. He barely remembered agreeing to the trade, he tried to grope Joel’s ass, and worst of all, all he was wearing were some tight boxer briefs and his sneakers, which gave off kind of a funky smell.

The dumb guy left Joel standing next to his shoe rack while he went to go find the Jordans and their box. As he waited, a distinctive smell started to fill Joel’s nose, the rich, buttery aroma rising off of the pile of used shoes in the rack. This guy must not own any socks, Joel thought in disgust. If those Js were gonna smell this bad, he might need to look for a new pair. He started to load sneaker swap, watching the spiral turn for several seconds.

Maybe the smell wasn’t that bad, he realised, sniffing the air again. It wasn’t like he wanted his feet to smell like that, but it wasn’t so surprising for a guy to want to fill his shoes with his essence. Mark his territory. Show off his manliness.

Joel had drifted back toward the shoe rack by the time the guy came back with the shoes. He spotted the Sneaker Swap app, still loading on Joel’s phone.

“Huhu, what a great app,” the guy grunted, handing over the shoebox. “Totally changed my life, bro.”

“Uh, thanks, man,” Joel said, handing over cash for the Js and pocketing his phone. He wrinkled his nose at the smell coming off the guy’s hairy muscles. “Thanks for the shoes.”

“Totally,” the gay guy’s eyes zeroed in on the bulge in Joel’s pants. Joel hadn’t even noticed his erection. “Hey bruh, if you want to,” the guy paused and licked his lips, “trade sneakers again sometime, hit me up.”

Joel beat a hasty retreat back to his car.

As he drove home, he kept thinking about the smell of that guy’s shoes. It was almost like it was still in his head, fogging up his brain. In fact, it was getting stronger. Joel pulled over and grabbed the shoebox from his passenger seat. He hadn’t smelled it in the house, but his fancy new Js were impregnated with the smell of the guy’s feet. Joel groaned, now he would have to figure out how to clean the shoes without ruining them.

Joel kept the shoes in a box in the back of his front closet, not wanting to have to smell them while he figured out how to wash off the stench. By the time he had finished his dinner, though, a faint foot funk was permeating his kitchen like a haze. Those shoes were powerful. Joel loaded up Sneaker Swap. Maybe they had a forum that could help. At the very least, he wanted to comment on the guy’s profile so other people knew what they were getting into.

The loading spiral was so relaxing. Joel could just sit and watch it… Some time later, Joel found himself looking at the main page of the app. When had it gotten so dark? He’d been about to do something on the app. He was going to—he was going to look for more shoes, right. He was already planning more outfits with different pairs.

The next morning, Joel was leaving for work when he saw the Js he’d bought yesterday sitting out on his shoerack, their smell eye-watering at close range. Had he put them there? He must have. The smell seemed different today, more complex and deeper, there was almost an appeal to having it filling him up… Joel shook his head. He should have looked up how to clean them last night, his whole house was gonna smell if this kept up. He went to open the Sneaker Swap app, and watched the spiral load.

He was nearly late for work, he spent so long looking at shoes to buy. How was he getting so absentminded lately? He must have had a latent interest in cool shoes this whole time, he reasoned.

The pattern continued. Every time Joel passed through his entryway, he smelled the musky Jordan 4s on his shoerack. He thought about cleaning them or putting them away, and started to load up Sneaker Swap, then got distracted by looking at shoes. It was starting to affect other parts of his life, too. A girl at work commented on how spacey and airheaded Joel had been acting lately. He just shrugged, unable to think of an answer other than, “Sorry, head’s full of shoe stink.”

By the time his next paycheck came through, Joel had three different pairs on hold with local bros. He was jittery and excited all morning, then loaded up into his car for an afternoon driving around to make the trades.

It was… weird. Joel couldn’t put his finger on it, but all three of the guys he met were different than he’d expected. Maybe it was how slow and stupid their voices were, or their nudity, or the fact none of them had washed or put on deodorant. All three wore their sneakers in their houses, and all three had a pile of smelly shoes by the front door. But every time Joel tried to think about it, the smell of all the shoes seemed to overtake his mind. All three guys had such unique scents to them, Joel found himself fascinated.

On the drive home, Joel barely noticed the three pairs of shoes stinking up his car, too busy thinking about how all those shoes had smelled at the source, where the guys he’d bought his Js from kept all their dirty sneakers. In a daze, he carried the three smelly boxes into his house and absently set the three new pairs of shoes next to the first, which he still hadn’t tried on. He kept meaning to clean them, he should look up how on Sneaker Swap… The loading spiral was so captivating…

Later, Joel found himself sitting on the floor next to his shoerack, his phone open to Sneaker Swap in one hand and one of his new Js in the other. Another couple shoes were in his lap. He took in the complex, different scents of each of the guys he’d bought them from, some salty, some bitter, and one even an almost sweet scent. It was like a signature, their unique trace on the shoes, something he’d be honoured to add to now that he’d inherited the legacy from them.

The next morning, Joel sniffed himself and decided he probably didn’t have to shower this morning. He looked at the deodorant on his bathroom counter, puzzled, and then threw it in the trash. While he ate breakfast, Joel loaded up Sneaker Swap and, after watching the spiral for a while, started looking at shoes. When he got ready for work, he grabbed the first pair of Js he’d bought and shoved his socked feet into their musky interior without a second thought.

Joel had the style now, but he noticed that he was having even more trouble scoring dates now. Girls seemed put off by the manly smell that Joel was building up. He’d started going to the gym more, and showers just seemed so much less important than building up his personal brand of musk to fill in to his shoes. At one bar, a girl wrinkled her nose at him as soon as Joel came up to the bar and she fled. Meanwhile, a passing boy in some little sexy shorts paused walking past Joel, nostrils flaring. Joel watched as the guy’s little dick suddenly tented out his tiny package, and smirked when their eyes met.

He was noticing guys more and more lately. At first, it was just their shoes, like the spiral from Sneaker Swap appeared around the feet of any guy in Js. He kept wondering what it would be like to smell a guy’s feet for real, rather than just through getting his musky shoes. His collection was growing, and each time he went to get new shoes the guys he traded with got more fun. Their houses were full of such hot scents, and their hot, smelly bods looked and smelled so good. They kept pressing up against Joel as they passed him their shoes, passing on their musk to him to take care of. It was so hot.

As much as he loved the thick, musky smell permeating his house now, Joel still hadn’t gone all the way and stuck his face in one of his Js. He didn’t know if he could take the smell that close to the source. The day he brought home his tenth pair of shoes, though, Joel decided that his little collection deserved to be commemorated on his Sneaker Swap profile. He opened up the app and watched the loading spiral.

He recollected himself as he hit “post” on his new profile pic. He looked at it. His Js were neatly laid out on the shoerack, but off to the side, there he was, in the picture, his face buried in one of the 4s, the first ones he’d bought with the red accents. As likes and comments started to pour in from the guys he’d bought the shoes from, a chorus of “bruh” and “noice” and “sniff that sneak, dude” Joel realised that he was still holding the shoe over his mouth and nose.

Right in the back of his mind, Joel had an instant of fear. Was this really him? This stinky sneakerhead? He’d been different before, clean-cut and even straight! He instinctively took a deep breath, and his negative feelings vanished as all his thoughts were overcome with the salty, musky tang of the shoe, so much stronger at close range that it was a physical sensation on his tongue. Joel’s growing foot stench had blended with the buttery scent of that first dumb himbo he’d bought the shoes from.

It felt like his whole mind was being filled up with musk, slowing his thoughts down like they were moving through molasses. Everything was perfectly fine. He had his shoes, he had his musk, and his big cheesy cock. Life was pretty much perfect for a dumb sneakerhead like him.

The next morning, Joel woke up in bed, cradling one of his Js against his face like when he’d fallen asleep. He didn’t bother putting on more than some boxers and a used pair of socks, sticking his feet into a pair of sneakers as he got out of bed. A new user on Sneaker Swap wanted to buy a pair of his 4s, and after that he’d invited the guy he’d bought his first pair from to come over and check out his collection. Hopefully Joel would be able to get his mouth on that guy’s hot, smelly feet this time.

He needed to message that guy who’s given him the link to this app. Maybe he could give him a reward, Joel thought, kneading his weeping cock through his boxers.

#mental change #male transformation #feet kink tf #shoes tf #musk tf #straight to gay #dumber tf #hypno tf #himbofication #idesofrevolution #prompted story #male tf #all fwkong

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mrsackermannx · 10 months

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˚ ༘ *ೃ༄ ❝ COME BACK TO ME…❞

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ summary: gojo’s been plotting to get you back ever since you broke up.

୨୧ word count: 4.7k

୨୧ content: gojo satoru/reader, smut, no-curses au/office au, infidelity, exes to lovers, afab reader, light angst (strategic marriage/ breakup mentions), praise kink, porn with plot, love confession, overstimulation, pet names (baby, sweetheart etc), creampie, pussy-slapping, squirting, sprinkle of degradation, slight exhibitionism.

୨୧ author’s note: gojo brainrot finally gave way to some writing hehe, still getting used to characterising him so feedback is appreciated angels <3

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

"Don't shit where you eat," they say. They say that dating your colleague is never going to end well. However, even the most stoic people have a penchant for such relationships, not to mention the secret hopeless romantics.

Workplace romances can make even affairs appear heartwarmingly wholesome. After all, there was something about trudging up stair after stair when the elevator was too full to them smiling at you just a desk away. Their voice fond as they offer you a sunny "Good morning."

That person who never forgets your favourite vending machine coffee, who pats your shoulder and tells you 'you're doing your best,' who lends you their umbrella, who opens up to you over a beer after overtime. Who notices when you get a haircut, whose eyes are seldom on their computer screen but on your lips.

Not that you'd ever been unfaithful, not yet. But you'd heard countless stories. Girls talk, after all. You didn't judge, yet the point was although workplace romances could be wholesome and even sexually thrilling. They were sensational and exciting until they were over.

Until that person no longer stays with you through overtime, bitter memories of you chugging vending machine coffee, swapping candy and chips together and then spit just like you and Gojo always did. You definitely never told anyone how many times you fucked on the desks of the colleagues you both thought sucked, especially not after you'd broken up.

You were together for a while, and although you couldn't say it out loud because it was still too painful, you missed him. A lot. In fact, you spent most nights, fist screwed up at your sides, eyes blurring in the darkness, questioning if there would always be that void he left that no one could ever fill.

Though, breaking up didn't cause the type of animosity that made people scurry from rooms when you interacted. Instead, it confused the hell out of your colleagues. It hadn't even been half a year since, and you and Gojo didn't appear to hate each other at all.

But the pain lingering in your heart ached and was annoying and inconvenient, like a stubbed toe that felt sore and tender for weeks and weeks—but in your case, months. However, Gojo was hardly being subtle with his efforts to ever so secretly win you back at every opportunity. He didn't mind playing the long game. He was going to be your last.

All of you at the company came from important families in high social circles, marriage and dating. Love. It often came down to strategy, which was the only reason you were dating Miyano Haru, a Kyoto University graduate! CEO of a cybersecurity company!

Guilt gripped at your gut as you yawned at the thought.

Your families were shooting for a marriage ceremony during next year's cherry blossom season. But until then, Gojo wasn't slamming the brakes anytime soon.

Whether that be surprising you with your favourite lunches, leaving tickets for movie screenings, galleries, or museums on your desk, or sending Google calendar invites to restaurant reservations or spa appointments via your work emails across the office floor. With sweet messages like,

Gojo Satoru has sent a "Spa day pamper package for two for this Friday.”

Surprise! You look tired this week baby. Let's go here Friday, yeah?

Ps: You still look pretty, though.

Just like you were still fucking dating.

So today, when you're pitching a marketing idea in the monthly meeting, and Yaga cuts you off. Gojo cannot help himself.

Yaga was a great man, someone Gojo was grateful to for many reasons, but fuck was this man old-fashioned and unaware of it. He refused to see your potential because he was eternally sceptical of the efficacy of women's ideas.

But you had the best ideas today. Gojo smiled because your ideas were always the best and that’s why this decision was so easy. He could fondly recall your rants about Yaga after every monthly meeting where you'd complain about his blatant misogyny; even Sukuna would let a reluctant chuckle loose to the show.

All of you in the canteen at your table, Shoko, Utahime, Nobara and Maki at your side, growing passionate about gender pay gaps and audacious men at your company and then the world over.

Nanami always said the right thing, and so did Higuruma, Yuuta and Choso. Gojo decidedly took the credit for Megumi being so eloquent and respectful. Inumaki was outrageous at times, and Yuuji was a lover of all people and argued fiercely for both sides.

Those times were always fun.

Yaga peered over his glasses, "Why don't you expand again on how you plan to execute this idea, Reader?”

With one hand typing idly at his laptop and the other seating his chin, Gojo sighed so loudly all the eyes in the room cast to him. "Reader obviously has the best pitch for this project."

He grinned as Yaga's knuckles grew white and he humphed before his voice sharpened, "So, are we really gonna make her explain it again?"

"For once, even I agree with him," Toji added.

Gojo winked as he looked up at you, and you felt yourself melt a little, even under the icy breeze of the conference room's AC.

Megumi, Yuuji and Nobara huddled together under the oppressive communication Gojo and Yaga's eyes were engaging in.

Gojo’s eyes narrowed, "So, what are you waiting for? Give her the project."

Nanami offered you a small smile and nodded before his expression soured, and he spoke before Yaga could open his mouth to protest. "I, for once, also agree with Gojo. I think we should open this pitch up for a vote?"

Choso raised his arm, "Me too. I think it's just what we need, in fact."

Maki nudged Yuuta and Inumaki before confidently booming, "I volunteer our assistance on the project!"

Albeit a little flustered, you bowed and thanked the room as Yaga reluctantly signed the dream project of the company to you. Sure, you were ecstatic you'd finally been recognised for your hard work and dedication, but you wanted to kill Gojo.

What didn't help was the aggressively obvious effect he had on you still. Sure, you had a new boyfriend, but Gojo didn't care. So that's why you found yourself lingering outside of his office door at 9pm because you knew he wouldn't care one bit. Like that man ever did overtime, you tsked.

Gojo had been playing a game with you, knowing you'd finally relent, that you'd come to your senses and stop denying yourself of what you really fucking wanted. "Be selfish."

Everybody you'd asked today had told you he'd stayed in his office all day. So yeah, he really was doing this on purpose. His light was on, and he was baiting you, and you hated how easy it was for you to take it.

You knew he wanted you to barge in there, all flustered and mouthy, so he could shove you to your knees and fuck your throat open.

Your boyfriend Miyano was sweet, he could talk about his feelings, and he didn't run away from emotional intimacy like others had. Like Gojo always had. But your family had set you up with him even though your shattered heart was still just that. Shattered. Your heart had been reduced to fragments— to a puzzle that only one genius could solve, he wasn’t prepared to give anybody guidance in the matter either. After all, geniuses couldn’t explain how to do the things they found easy.

And although you were the one that ended things with Gojo, it hurt all the same.

There was nothing wrong with Miyano per se. He came from a respectable family, one your family could bear you marrying into; though the Gojo clan would have been amazing, the Miyano clan wasn't terrible either.

But you never wanted your family to arrange a relationship or marriage for you. You fell for Gojo instantly and hard. You loved him like you never loved anybody else. He thrilled you, challenged you, and made it seem like the world was too small for you both and that you could see it all when you stood at his side. He made everything and every day exciting but had the vexing ability to make you feel safe and at home all the same.

Gojo Satoru was irreplaceable in every facet of the word, in his work, friendships, and relationships. As fickle as he could appear, he was the first to call in a crisis and someone you could wholeheartedly depend on.

But Miyano was sweet and emotionally forthcoming but…entirely too normal. You didn't yearn to peel back his layers one by one and didn't care much for his childhood stories, unpopular opinions, or core principles. But you treasured the few times you’d sat with Gojo, pestering him to tell you anything deeper, anything that no one else knew. Watching with sparkling eyes as his voice grew so quiet you had to follow his lips until your eyes blurred instead.

But it was rare he shared anything too personal with you. He had trouble with it more than most. Some nights, although you were sleeping in the same bed, you felt miles apart.

Gojo had a wall with everybody else, like a layer of infinity that meant nobody could really touch him or delve deeper. They only saw and knew the surface that reflected back to them like a mirror. No one could truly ever get close.

But it wasn't supposed to be the case for you, was it?

A fond and familiar laugh yanked you from your reverie, "Did you come to thank me? Because you can thank me by going to dinner with me tomorrow."

How was he larger than the door frame? You all but scowled as he leant down and tapped his cheek. "I also accept kisses as a form of repayment if you're willing," he said silkily, a jaunty grin on his lips at your expression. “With interest.”

Your shoulders slumped, and you huffed, wilfully ignoring the growing heat ping-ponging between your bodies. "Why did you do it?" Your brows knotted, "I wanted to get it on my own, Satoru. And my pitch was strong enough. I didn't need your help."

He threw his hands up and yawned obnoxiously, smoothing the back of his hair down, "Well, what can I say? I'm a doer, not a talker."

You huffed, “No, I'm sure you're always talking."

"You got me there, but" he checked either side of the corridor before he looped his arm around your waist and yanked you into his office. “Game over.”

"Satoru, I-" Your voice fell into a whimper as he flipped you against his door, his lips ghosting your earlobe as he caged you in.

"Maybe it's because I know you like to hear my voice," he whispered. "I know you like being talked through it. And, I know you didn’t need my help, we just needed a little push.”

We needed a final straw.

You swallowed, fists clenched at your sides as his body suffocated yours. Heat quickly crawled up your cheeks as his large hands slid slowly down your sides, the familiar smell of his cologne igniting memories from the last times you smelt it so closely. Kissing down his throat, across his collarbones-

"What are you doing?" You finally mustered, your voice a breathless squeak. Seconds passed, and the tension blazed and kindled, refusing to be extinguished into silence. You didn't dare turn around to see him enjoying you like this.

"Nothing, nothing you don't want me to do," he said in a lilting voice, hitching the hem of your skirt up half an inch. "You've always been so vocal, so I doubt you'd lose your voice in a time like this, would you?"

"No," you hissed, curbing any further speech in case you fucking stammered.

"Don't worry though, baby. You're easy," he scoffed, "and you never stay quiet, not with me.”

“Oh fuck you.” You gasped as he shoved his knee between your thighs to part them.

“Oh I will. But if that wimpy boyfriend of yours is doing his job, then I shouldn’t find your panties soaked in a minute, should I, princess?"

A breath passed, and then he hitched it up a little further, resting his chin on your shoulder to taunt you more. "I see the way you look at me, baby. I know you and that look in your eyes. It tells me all I need to know, princess."

His hand caressed your quivering thighs, brushing your stomach and pausing at your chest. He gripped one breast before the other before it settled upon your throat, and he tipped your head back.

His lips travelled down your temple, to your cheek, and to your neck, where he spoke, "Hm? Ignoring me isn't quite your style. Isn't that why you came here today?”

He kissed the corner of your mouth, and then you knew you were truly fucked. Watching as he pulled away with a grin spreading as slow and molten as melted chocolate.

"I know you wanna kiss me," he whispered, blue eyes alight when you turned and showed him the blown-out lust glazing your eyes. "There we go, baby, that's it. Gonna kiss me?"

You nodded, already too far gone. His hand cupped the back of your head, and he met you halfway in a slow, sensual kiss.

Your fronts drew together, and he shimmied up your skirt until it became a corset. Then he cupped your cunt, the pads of his fingers trailing feather light. Your vision hazed, and your fists curled tighter into his shirt.

Your features were contorted beautifully with lust. "Do not tease me right now."

He laughed as you scowled, his heart aching. He'd missed you so damn much.

"Oh? Want me to rub your pussy, baby?" he cooed, long fingers smearing the slick oozing through your panties.

"Now I know what you fucking came for,” he groaned breathily into your lips, waiting for your sign to continue. Your panties were the door, and his dumbing teasing movements were tentative little knocks. But he knew you liked to be stripped bare and fucked like you were his. This was just the final round of his game.

You bucked your hips forward, needing more, needing him. You clung to him, tugging on his tie, "Satoru, Satoru, more, please," you whimpered through his kisses.

"I only satisfy what's mine, but you're not mine anymore, are you, sweet girl? So what can I do? Nothing."

You eagerly shook your head in protest, on your tip toes, just to drag your mouth down his jaw and neck. "Even though this needy pussy is leaking all over my fingers, responding to me like I own her," he tutted, "but I don't, do I? Pretty girl."

You made a noise half-whimper, half-growl, palming him through his pants until he hissed and then broke his feigned amusement from just how much you were riling him up. "I am yours, Satoru, always, always," you panted.

"I know that baby, but I need to know if she still is." He yanked your panties up so roughly the fabric strained against your clit and made you moan so lewdly you quickly covered your mouth.

"Needy girl," he said lowly before he drew his hand back and slapped your pussy. You moaned even louder, falling weakly into his chest. But you hardly fell far, as he grabbed your face in one hand and leant close.

"You like it when I slap your needy little pussy like this, baby?" His smile moved a millimetre as your eyes darted to his long, pretty fingers. "Want me to bury my fingers inside it till you come too? So you can stop being so needy?"

"Please, Satoru."

"Then show me, show me how much you want them," he whispered, eyes shooting down between you both as he started to circle your clit, not daring to touch it.

"Show me you're dying for it, and we can forget about all of this mess, can't we? You've just gotta show me who knows this pussy best.” The growing gravel in his voice turned the words into ragged commands.

In raptured submission, you yanked aside your panties and guided his fingers, back arching against the door as you ran them back and forth against your soaked cunt. Your breaths finally flew fluidly through the air, like his touch was what your body needed to convert the carbon dioxide.

His jaw grew slack at the sight of you, getting yourself off on his fingers, clumsily rubbing your swollen clit against his fingertips, breaths huffing from your nose in the exertion.

He leant into the beautiful image of you, moaning in your ear as your slick drowned his fingers. The slick wet sounds of your cunt as you run them back and forth, rapidly unravelling him.

"Look at me," he demanded, plunging two of his fingers knuckle deep until it squelched when you didn’t comply in seconds. You let out a humiliating whimper. The pleasure of the sudden yet sweet stretch danced through every nerve.

He grinned, fucking his fingers inside, “You look so pretty like this, I should take a photo.”

"I can't…." You couldn't speak, not when his fingers were relentless inside like this, clenching and fluttering as he bullied that spot inside you.

But his name was a never-ending hot, sweaty mantra.

"Trying to give me scraps, huh? But you're mine," he spat.

"No, I need you, Satoru. I need only you, only you," you babbled.

The lustful look in your eyes catapulted him over the edge. He couldn't take it anymore, his palm granting sweet friction to your clit as he fucked you like the world was about to end. "I know you need it, baby. I've got you. I know.”

He tried to undo your buttons with his free hand but was too fucked out to do it, grunting for your help, so you did immediately. "Say the words, and I'll stretch this sweet pussy out with my cock after you come, baby.”

"I'm yours, please. Fuck me," you whimpered, your entire body shaking as pleasure climbed through your body, building until you felt the pressure about to burst. Your hands roamed his body, eager to feel him as you removed your own shirt.

But like an animal, he was all over you, kissing, licking, and biting as you squirmed close to your climax. His lips closed around your nipple, and your spine straightened at the softness until he bites it hard.

You yelped, but he only laughed, "Hurts? Don't care, baby, it hurts seeing you with that loser, the number of times I've had to come in my fucking hand because of you."

The lewd sloshes of your pussy grew louder, and Gojo delighted in how you were now dripping onto the floor. So, he finally granted you mercy, pulsing his hand until you came in wild thrashing waves that rippled violently through your body.

"Oh yeah? Did that feel good, pretty girl?" he whispered, tilting your chin to devour your breathless mouth. The press of his lips and the erotic flicks of his tongue were making you throb wildly on his fingers. "See, you do like it when I talk.”

He let out such an attractive laugh at your glare that you fluttered around him again. "Baby again? I'm not gonna leave this pussy just yet, let up, or I won't be able to get my cock inside," he hummed. "Isn't that what we both want?"

"Then do it. Put it in me." You spread yourself, and he bit back a moan. His eyes flickered at how you shook when his thumb brushed your clit experimentally.

Your brows knitted at the lingering sensation, “Please, put it in me, now."

"Oh baby, but if you keep squeezing like that." Gojo grew dizzy at how your pussy refused to let him go, helping you tug away his belt and zip down his pants. Hazy, as you let up enough for him to take his fingers out of your spasming cunt.

"You really gonna let me fuck you right here, huh?"

His eyes were half-lidded at the sight of you in your office heels, panties soaked and half-pulled down, shirt hanging limply and open, your skirt a thick black belt hugging your torso.

You were a mess, his mess, his pretty mess.

"Oh baby, you're so beautiful." He knelt down, working down your panties with his breath uneven, kissing each knee as he worked them down each ankle and then tossed them behind him.

"Shall I tell you something?" he mused, running his hands up and down your thighs as he kissed and licked at the slick threatening to stick them together.

"Yes, tell me." Your hands slid instinctively into his hair as he reached your pussy and kissed it.

"I'll be honest, yeah?"

He was waiting for a shaky, "Yeah?" so you granted him one laced through a whimper, so he suckled on your clit in return before speaking.

“I can pamper you. Spoil you, fuck you, take care of you." His voice was almost hoarse, thick and affected by something other than lust—a different emotion.

"I know that Toru, I do."

"N' I can—love you, too," he murmured, voice so uncharacteristically small but soft like it used to be when he spoke to you at night.

You gasped. Gojo had never said those words, not once. "Satoru, I-" His tongue dove into your cunt, and you almost toppled forwards, but somehow in seconds, he was carrying you. Holding you close, you heard the unmistakable clatter of the desk's contents clatter to the floor as he pressed you down upon the cold surface.

His large arms locked your torso down, and he swiftly resumed tongue fucking your cunt, delving his fingers in and out. His heart was pounding with his confession and from your lack of reply. Though he knew he was fucking you so precisely and so perfectly that it was indeed impossible for you to respond.

Until you burst once more, hands tugging his hair, bucking your pussy into his face, greedy for not just more, but for him. For the actions to do more than the words you could barely manage, so overstimulated and so sensitive that you felt yourself heating up. But then, as your pleasure erupted, feeling your hot arousal coat your thighs, a garbled "I love you" ripped from your chest.

Satoru froze for several seconds, and then it was as if someone found the remote and clicked play as he somehow tugged off his blazer and pants all at once. Ripping his boxers down just enough to grab the base of his cock.

Peering down at you, hungry and lovesick. "Say it again." You giggled and tugged him down for a messy kiss, working off his shirt.

"I love you, Satoru, I love you. I've never been afraid to say it." Your body was still shaking from your blinding orgasm, and he loved every second of it. He loved that he was about to ruin you even more.

His cheek brushed yours as he folded your body, rubbing the tip of his cock against your clit, "I love you," he whispered hotly into your ear, "I want you to feel like the luckiest woman in the world."

“I already do.”

“Yeah?” You moaned in tandem as he bucked his hips repeatedly, more of his cock easing in each time. Teasing you over and over, even though you were ready to take him, and he knew it. "Can you take me, baby?"

"Yes!" You whined, breath hitching as he tapped his cock against your cunt before he slammed in and filled you to the brim all at once. You both groaned, the sounds fading into seconds of soft relieved laughter. "Oh fuck, Toru, so good."

He moaned, voice shaky in your ear, "That's it, baby, you're so good. Take my cock. It's all yours. Take every single inch."

"Fuck Toru, you're so deep, too deep!"

"No, baby, feels good, doesn't it?"

Before you knew it, he picked you up and slammed you against the glass overlooking the city. If you weren't on the top floor, you'd absolutely refuse. But Gojo always did like fucking you in front of Tokyo at night.

"You can take it, baby, you can fucking take it, yeah? Cause you're made for me, so made for me," he panted.

"I can take it."

"I know you can." He sucked and kissed on your neck, no doubt leaving his mark on you, as you wrapped your arms around his neck and took every slam of his hips. His stamina had always been otherworldly, never tiring, even as he fucked you standing up, hands sinking into the undersides of your thighs.

"Leave him," he moaned, not in the slightest asking.

Luckily you didn't mind, as you tugged him closer and parted your lips, "I will, I promise."

"Because you're mine, baby." His teeth were clenched, and he was groaning into your ear. Usually, Gojo could pace himself, but it had been so long, and you felt so good clinging to him like this, it was so close and so intimate. “I love you.”

So close, and so…

He blinked at the revelation that hit him like a freight train, he wasn’t going to run any longer. He liked the intimacy, he wanted to tell you all the stupid things you wanted to know now, he wanted to be close, he wanted you. He wanted to be everything you needed and wanted.

"Are you gonna come?" Your voice was so sweet it gave him an instant sugar rush, "Come in me, baby, fill me, Satoru. Need your cum," you whimpered. “Want it?”

"Yeah? You fucking do, princess? Haah-" He pulled out and shoved your front against the glass. You moaned at the switch, and as he spread you apart before thrusting back in, his large hands engulfing each cheek.

He lost it as you pushed your hips back on him, moaning and babbling, "Then let's have the entirety of Tokyo be a witness as I give my sweet girl what she fucking wants, huh?"

"Fuck, Satoru, feels too good! I'm close too!" you moaned, both of your bodies meeting in desperate sticky clashes of hips.

He whimpered, “We're gonna come together?"

You were gonna send him over the edge tonight.

"I’m so glad you came. Take me, take it, baby. Oh fuck.” His hands dug into your hips, making you take every single rope of his arousal. Lewd sounds tore from your throats at the sensation of him filling you deeply. After seconds of panting and melting into each other's arms, he still made no immediate moves to leave you.

He thrusted slowly to drive it deeper, "I'm not on birth control anymore," you squeaked. "But I'll take th-“

"Good. We're getting the family started just on time."

You giggled tiredly, "You're on board that fast?"

He squeezed you as he laughed himself, arms locked tight around your waist, "Do you wanna see the engagement ring in my desk or?"

"Satoru!"

He twirled you around to face him, "I was gonna fly you somewhere and propose, but I suppose the cats out of the bag." He pouted and got on one knee, kissing your knuckles, "You'll marry me, won't ya? Think of this as a practice proposal, though!"

You sighed, "God, you're a fucking idiot."

"Heh, heh." He opened his desk drawer and produced a small black box.

“I wasn’t joking, actually,” he popped it open with a proud smile, "Shoko kind of helped me pick it, said it was-"

It was beautiful, everything you’d always envisioned but had never described to him or anybody else.

A slow tear slid down your cheek, another racing beside it seconds later, “Aww! Are you that happy to marry me, sweetheart?"

"Go away! But…yes."

He put the ring on the desk and cupped your cheeks, "Yes, you're happy, or yes, you'll marry me?" he asked tentatively.

"Both!"

"Yay!”

You were half-expecting people to jump out with confetti because Gojo was just that ridiculous sometimes, but instead, you heard shrill knocking and then Nanami's voice, absolutely exasperated. "Gojo! You knew I was working overtime today."

He shrugged, grinning at you recoiling into his chest and half-expecting Nanami to barrel in, "Probably the most action you'll get all year!"

He stroked your cheek, full of adoration.

But I got her back.

He always did like grand gestures.

tagging: @afortoru @luvjiro @sixpennydame @4sat0ruu @fangirlings-world @romantichomicide95 @nkogneatho @p00pdev1l @utahimeow @hayakawasb1tch @yocoochbussin <3

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fanfiction #jjk x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #mdni banner: @fic-dumpster <3 #still getting used to writing my baby <3

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jazminrhode1 · 8 months

Text

I've Loved You My Whole Life Matt Sturniolo x Reader One Shot

Summary: You and Matt are best friends but, there might be some underlying feelings between you both.

Word Count: 677 words

Matt sat beside you tracing gentle spirals on your back as you facetimed back home to your mom. She always missed you when you were away but, knew you were safe when you were with Matt.

She was catching you up on your brother’s soccer tournament and your Dad's trip to Vermont. He had gone with some friends on their annual weekend away and you knew your mom missed him a lot.

Before you hung up, she said to Matt, “Take care of our girl.” Matt laughed, digging his chin into your shoulder. “Always,” he promised.

You and Matt had been best friends since elementary school. He was the first person you called in the morning and the last text you sent at night.

When you were too scared to skate on the ice at your 8th birthday party, he took your hand and made sure that you didn’t fall. When you broke up with your first boyfriend who you thought that you’d marry someday, Matt was there to pick up the pieces. Whenever you called, he was there.

As you drove to McDonald's to grab something to eat, he laced his fingers through yours. It was this kind of simple shit that none of your boyfriends could ever seem to do. He opened the door, he paid for your meal and when you decided you didn’t want the Dr Pepper you ordered, he swapped his drink just to make you happy.

Matt was always a ‘let’s fix this’ type of person. Even when you disagreed or argued about stupid little things, he never left until you sorted it out. He would always be down for uncomfortable conversations if it meant you were still friends in the end. There was nothing more comforting than knowing you could be yourself around him.

As you sat on the couch, you laid your head on his chest. He was the only person who could make your heart still when your anxiety was out of control. He played with your hair mindlessly as you watched Spongebob together. It was moments like this that you had missed since he moved to LA.

In the morning, he woke you up with a coffee from Starbucks. He had let you stay in his bed and he was bunking with Chris. Chris didn’t mind, he liked the company. You sometimes felt like he missed Matt when you were around, though he never said that.

As you walked down the esplanade with your ice creams in hand something about it seemed different. Something about the space between you felt more fragile but, you couldn’t put your finger on it. He caught your gaze and just smiled; he locked eyes with you for a little too long to be just friends.

Everyone could see how much the two of you loved each other. It was hard for you to put into words. You loved him in ways that you had never loved anyone else. He was your person. Something about him made you feel a little more alive and a little less lost.

As you sat on the bench looking out at the water, he tucked your hair behind your ear and ran his hand down your back. It was in those moments of intimate understanding that you felt the most seen. The little things that he did let you know that he loved you too.

He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you into his side to block you from the wind. His lips pressed against your temple; your fingers tracing circles on his thigh. This was love, wasn’t it? Didn’t the Buddhists say 'If you meet somebody and your heart pounds, your hands shake, your knees go weak, that's not the one. When you meet your 'soul mate' you'll feel calm.' This was love, wasn’t it?

You turned to face him and looked up into his eyes, “Do you believe the universe fights for two souls to be together?”

A smile spread across his face as he replied, “I don't know about the universe but, I know that I have loved you for my whole life.”

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flowersandbigteeth · 1 year

Text

Your shadow king husband mates you

General Plot: This is just purely smut ^_^ and advances the plot in no meaningful way :)

Shadow King (Zintius) x female reader

Word Count: 1.5k

W: tiny bit of breeding kink, nsfw monster smut, vaginal and oral sex

When you were completely bare beneath him Zintius took his time examining your body. He ran his smokey fingers down the column of your neck and to your breast, making you shudder underneath him.

You hadn’t had many sexual partners, never having the safety or opportunity to engage in romance, but the soft bed and warm room were a far improvement over your previous encounters.

“Let me help,” you murmured, never wanting to be a passive party in your own life, and fumbling with the buttons of his shirt.

He was frightening, massive, with his large white teeth baring down on you and maybe this was your way of having some control. Whatever it was, your silver bubble of enthusiasm pleased him and he practically shivered as your small fingers brushed his chest as you carefully undid each button. While you worked a finger drifted over your cheek. His skin was warm and felt oddly soft, though it could be very firm when he wanted it to be.

You were still getting used to the way his six multi-colored eyes seemed to be looking all over you all at once and the only other thing you could really make out of his facial features were his large, white teeth.

Underneath his shirt, however, he was all sex appeal. His black skin shimmered slightly, highlighting large, well formed pectorals and a row of washboard abs. Your eyebrows went up, without your meaning them to and you had to force them back down.

“Do I pass inspection?” he chuckled lightly, leaning back so you could get a good look and pushing back the curl of black smoke that seemed to want to persistently drift off of his forehead.

You let out a nervous giggle, blushing and giving him a nod. As you saw more and more of him, you started to find his odd features endearing. The way his eyes slid about his face, swapping places and forming new shapes was becoming a bit fascinating. You were drawn to each one as he leaned back down to you, thinking about the colors.

“May I kiss you?” he asked, politely, hovering only an inch above you. His scent filled you, smelling spicy and a bit otherworldly. It made your head swim a little and you just nodded. You had no idea how that was supposed to work, but it turned out he did have lips when he wanted to apply them and they glided gently over yours, making your skin sparkle.

As he deepened the kiss his self control began to slip, his hands roaming over your hips, up your stomach, to your breasts. His tongue was rather large and hot, brushing against your bottom lip, but you granted him entry to your mouth. Perhaps at that moment you were more curious than anything, but as the agile appendage swirled yours and his fingertips cupped your breast you found yourself drawn into his passion.

He moaned into your mouth, seeming to be utterly enjoying your flavor. Zintius had never tasted something so sweet in his life. His greedy hands were more and more eagerly pinching your flesh. You were so soft and tender underneath him.

Under the annoying scent of fake pixie musk, you smelled like fresh peaches. His long, hot kisses dragged across your cheek just below your chin, and he nibbled the flesh with his sharp teeth, making you gasp and your body jerk forward into him. He was happily there to catch you, pulling you the rest of the way into him so your warm bodies were flush.

His fingertips drifted over each knot of your spine on their way to clutch your ass, while the other hand buried itself in your hair. He’d waited so patiently to have you in his arms, he didn’t want to waste a single touch. You felt his tongue glide down your neck, to your breasts and circle each nipple. He couldn’t help but lick away the bitter flavor of the chemical to get you.

“You taste like heaven,” he groaned into your chest, the hand cupping your ass finding its way to your sensitive core with his long fingers.

“Mmm,” you hummed in pleasure. No one had ever taken so much time to adore your body before, truly enjoy you.

Your legs wrapped around his tapered hips and for the first time you felt his large shaft pressing against your heat. Eagerly grinding against him, you whimpered for more.

“Not yet, pet,” he said smiling, “I’ve gotta get you ready for me…”

That was a lie. You were sopping wet and ready for him, but he wanted to explore more, pushing you back against the pillows and prying your legs apart. His head dropped between your legs and his long tongue dove between your folds. You keened as he fucked you with it, tasting your essence.

You were so sweet and delicious he’d forgotten about pleasuring you and was holding your legs open getting his fill of your juices. The noises he was making as he lapped at you were purely animal. Your hand went to his head without thinking that there would only be smoke to grab, but to your surprise there was something soft there to clutch. It wasn’t exactly hair, but it was more like lots of tiny smoky tentacles. The details didn’t matter as you exploded on his tongue flooding his mouth with your flavor.

He leaned back, sighing with pleasure as you watched his blood red tongue lick his bright white teeth. Two fingers slid into your sensitive cunt, scissoring you open, which was again entirely unnecessary, but Zintius wanted to touch you, play with you, lick you, whatever he could do to enjoy your skin and your scent.

Shivering against the pillows in front of him, he thought you looked like a goddess from some ancient painting as you writhed on his fingers, your eyes heavily lidded and your mouth slightly parted as you moaned. The other hand worked his pants off and his cock bobbed free, dripping precum.

“I’m going to fill you up and make you mine, pet,” he promised you, working his fist over his shaft, “I’m going to seed you with my heirs and make you my Queen.”

His sharp eyes watched you like a wolf as he considered how he wanted to take you, deciding he needed to see your face. He wanted to watch you unravel for him. Pulling you up off of the bed, he pulled you facing him in his lap, before sinking his cock deep into you with one rabid thrust.

His big white smile took over his face as you screamed when he entered you, stretching your tight cunt in just the right way. He loved watching the way your eyes rolled back in your head and the way you tossed your hair as you accepted him inside of you.

“That’s it, pretty little pet,” he groaned, cupping your neck as he moved you up and down on his cock and watching you desperately scratch at his chest, looking for something to hold onto. Straddling him, he went so deep with every thrust, his eyes laser focused on your face. Whatever misgivings you had about this arraignment were being quickly and efficiently pounded out of you.

“Yes, yes, yes, please, master,” you begged, not really wanting anything in particular but for him not to stop.

“Like that, pet?” he teased you, letting his thumb drift to your nipple to play with it. He chuckled, “do you even know whose name to call, my sweet little slut?”

You tipped your head into his warm chest, babbling nonsense.

“It’s Zintius,” he grunted, thumbing your clit while he forced you down on him extra hard so you wouldn’t forget, “say it. I need to hear you say it.”

The only thing that tumbled out of your mouth for a long time after that was that word. Unable to contain his composure any longer, he hurriedly flipped you over, pushing your cheek into the bed and slammed down into you forcing incoherent squeals past your lips.

“Fuck! You sing so pretty little bird,” he panted, still circling your clit with a finger.

He could feel you spasming and tightening around him as he touched you, reveling in your hot, spongy walls caressing him. His other big hand spanned your waist, holding you in place as he ravaged you.

“I-ah-AH!” you wailed as you saw a kaleidoscope of colors reminding you of Zintius’s eyes as you came, throwing him over a steep cliff as your cunt dragged him deeper, clutching it. Your knees lifted off of the bed as he grabbed your hips and emptied himself inside of you, slamming through his end. He groaned, rocking himself inside of you for a second, appreciating your heat.

He had no interest in giving you up though, pulling you with him still inside of you onto the bed. You murmured nonsense, going limp in his arms, your eyes hooded and heavy and he chuckled.

“You took me so well my sweet mate,” he purred and a little smile bloomed on your lips from his praise. Letting out a soft sigh you found yourself drifting off into the first safe night’s rest you’d ever had in your life.

#monster smut #monster x human #monster x reader #x reader #monster x girl #monster boyfriend #monster lover #yandere male #yandere x reader

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c0ld0utside · 2 months

Note

hey don’t push yourself to post a work every day, you’ll get brunt out. Go at your own pace, we’ll wait :)

also, have you thought of a human father with a monster child? Like he just grabbed a monster off the street lmao

OHOHO I LOVE THIS IDEA- And you're too kind tysm ;-;

Warnings: Child abandonment (Circle of life scenario), Reader unknowingly eats weed raw, Reader gets chased, Reader accidentally knocks themself out, Kidnapping, Reader gets tied up, Reader just has a lot of oopsie-daisies in general, Obsessive, Possessive, Delusional and Ignorant behavior

“***” means POV swap! Gonna try these out in this story.

Growing up, you never thought about the day you had to “leave the nest.” Sure, it was a thing that your species did, but you never thought about it too much. …Until you hit a certain age.

You still remember it all. The rain was pouring down hard and making you shiver. You called out to your parent, whining about wanting to return home, but they pressed forward and expected you to follow. So you did. You walked for hours, feet getting covered in mud and feeling icky. The two of you reached some black river with white dots in the middle, going in a perfectly straight line.

Your parent turned to you, said that you were old enough to take care of yourself, that you weren’t allowed to come back, and that they wished you well. They left you there. You tried to follow them, tried to track their scent, tried begging and pleading and calling, but you never found them. Somehow, you managed to find the black river again, and you followed it.

You followed it for a long time, only stopping during the day so you wouldn’t be seen. At night you stuck to the shadows, trying not to get scared when one of the husks roared past you, bright yellow eyes lighting up the darkness for a few moments. The smell it left behind was always awful. You lost count of the days, and at one point you thought you came across a forest fire, only to find that it was the sunlight reflecting on several somethings in tall structures.

You know now that the “black river” is called a road, and that the weird loud husks humans travel in are called “cars.” You’ve grown used to the smells and the loud noises. You’ve also learned that living in human environments got you free food since the morons just threw the stuff out. Like, come on, why would you dump an edible “burger” over some pickles? Just take ‘em out!

Hiding your appearance, on the other hand, was harder. Your horns were coming in and from what you’ve seen, humans don’t have those, or naturally brightly colored irises and star-like pupils. …Or tails. Or pointed ears. Just your luck, though! Some guy forgot to lock the backdoor into the mall, and the shops you “borrowed” from were out of the cameras’ view.

Finding a home was hard, too. It took a lot of trial and error, but you eventually found a good spot in an abandoned building after scaring a few squatters. They even left their blankets and strange leaves behind. You found out the hard way that those leaves are not good for you, especially after coughing them back up out the window. But hey, it’s all trial and error. Just like your parent said it would be.

You’re comfortable, living in the abandoned home with ratty blankets and a mattress. Sneaking around the city after dark to snack on the unwanted leftovers thrown in trash cans. “Borrowing” shiny things off of people while they weren’t looking. Like that one guy’s watch, or that girl’s bracelet. Or some kid’s fidget ring. You even have a few things called “wallets.” Humans make interesting things, you’ve come to find.

Like money.

Money, you’ve come to find, makes it so you don’t have to dig wasted food out of the garbage. You’ve managed to get some new clothes as well, which was a relief because your horns are very noticeable now without a beanie, and they ripped a hole in your old one. You had a hard time throwing it away, but the new one you have is the best thing you’ve ever gotten. You even bought a few things called “pins” to decorate it with.

The issue with money, however, is that it runs out quick, and getting more is harder than getting food. Which brings you back to your collection of empty wallets. You don’t want to go back to digging food out of garbage cans, trying to find scraps that were clean enough to eat. Your blankets are worn to shit, too. So, eating the last of your food and slipping your beloved beanie on, you head out of your abandoned home and into the city.

***

A man in his late twenties enters the shop, and he cheerfully says “Hello” back to the greeter. “What you looking for, Tim?” The greeter asks, recognizing the regular. “Pins,” He replies simply. “I’m getting bored of the ones I have.”

The greeter nods slightly. “Well, we got some new ones recently. Maybe you’ll like one of those.” She offers. The two exchange friendly smiles and Tim heads over to the pin basket, giving it a once over before starting to dig through it. He plucks out a Mothman one. A bit standard, he knows, but it’s adorable and Tim likes it so that’s that.

Tim plucks out a few more monster pins and a few goofy animal ones, like a spider pin with the words “I cry from every eye” printed on it and a duck with a knife. Satisfied with his haul that only costs around fifteen bucks, Tim looks up and spots the best thing he’s ever seen in his entire life. It’s just a keychain with a ghost plush, but it’s probably the cutest thing he’s ever seen in his life and he needs it. It even has a little smile on its face. A smile. It’s so precious and tiny and he just wants to hold it in his palms and dub it “Bartholomew the First.”

So he feels less alone.

Tim frowns at the sudden thought. Yeah, he’s a loner. Yes, he has friends, but they’re more work buddies and classmates than anything. He’d like to get a pet, something funky like a ferret or a rat or a lizard. But no, his landlord says no pets, so no pets for Tim. He’s always been sympathetic to others, having a lot of love to give but no one close to share it with. People from the past always found him odd because of it, but never told him why. Never told him what to do instead.

He knows he’s not alone. Most people want someone to care about them, and most people want someone to care for. Because no one really wants to be alone. Especially not him. So why does everyone treat him funny? How can he make it better? The kids don't think he's weird. They love it when he babysits. Please just-

Tim’s snapped out of his thoughts when he feels something slip out of his back pocket. A teen wearing a beanie with a rabid possum and “peace was never an option” duck pin on it quickly leaves the store, brushing past him. It takes him a few seconds, but he puts two and two together and rushes over to the greeter.

“Kathy hold onto these please some brat just took my money,” Tim says in a rush, shoving the items into her hands before booking it out of the shop. Kathy stands there, a bit stunned and processing what just happened. With a sigh, she heads over to the register and buys the pins and keychain.

“Don’t you already have that one?” One of her coworkers asks, squinting at the spider pin.

“I’m buying it for Tim. Some kid just took his wallet.” Kathy explains, blushing slightly at the teasing glance her coworker gives her.

***

This guy is stubborn. So stubborn, it’s scary. Scarier than that one wolf that would not stop chasing you after you got too close to its pups. It was an accident and you wish your parent was here to charge through the street and intercept the damn guy who’s still chasing you. Like they did with the wolf.

You know your parent had some love for you because they listened to your screams and begs and let the poor thing go. They also immediately scolded you for the whole thing afterward. Reckless, stupid little joey, poking around where they shouldn’t be. Just go back home and stay there. Food will come, I’ll bring some back.

Running away from the threat is harder, too. Especially when you have to shove and weave past hordes of people who are either really slow or just aren’t paying attention. It feels suffocating. Claustrophobic. You can’t get out and you can’t take a moment to breathe. You can’t give this up though, you need it.

I wish you were still here. I wish things were different. I wish I could’ve stayed.

Without a second thought, you round the corner and scramble up the old fire escape, throwing yourself through the open dirtied window and tumbling into your blankets. Safe, safe, safe, your mind chants. You’re safe. You lost him. You got your money, so you won’t need to get your hands dirty. You pull your beanie off of your head. It was starting to feel uncomfortable on your head and make your horns ache.

There’s a clang outside, and a few muffled curses. Wait. What. What? You immediately stand up, pocketing the “borrowed” wallet. A familiar scent wafts into your nose- sweat and palm leaves. Funny for a guy who’s a regular at the most “teenage angst” store you’ve ever been in. The man from before hops through the window and dusts himself off. His gaze screams murder as he looks up at you.

…Only to fall the moment he spots your odd eyes and horns that are starting to curl.

Okay. Okay. Stay calm. The dude managed to track you home. He’s a human- he’s weaker. He has no defense. Do what your parent taught you.

Like a stag, you take a defensive stance and show off your horns. Don’t wanna get hit with these. They’ll hurt really bad. Go away, please. Wait- please? No! Go away now!

You expect the guy to get the memo and leave.

Instead, he coos at you.

***

Tim was wrong. The creature was the most cutest, precious thing he’s ever seen. “Awwwww, look’t you!” He coos, relaxing and taking a friendly stance. “Wait hold on- no, this could be a cosplay. This is a cosplay, isn’t-”

He yelps as the creature charges, narrowly moving out of the way. Its horns slam into the wall and when it pulls away, there’s a noticeable dent and cracks in it. The beast grunts, teeth flashing in a snarl. Fangs with some flat teeth. Its tail slips out of its hiding place and lashes angrily.

Tim kneels, holding his hand out and trying to How To Train Your Dragon his way out of this. “Hey buddy, it’s alright. I just need my wallet back. Can I have it, please?” He asks sweetly, making a small motion with his hand. "We can talk about this. I can help."

Tim frowns when it hisses at him, an idea blooming in his head. When the monster charges again, he moves to the side and wraps his arms around them. “Easy, easy, aw…it’s alright. Shhhh…”

“LET ME GO!” The creature screams, making him pause. It can speak? It sounds young, too. Tim glances around the room, taking in the empty bags of chips and other generally bad stuff that kids eat without a second thought. He notices the ratty blankets and worn, moldy mattress on a broken bedframe.

“...How old are you?” Tim asks, tone full of pity. He winces when he feels claws dig and scratch at his arms, but doesn’t let go. “Ow- hey, it’s okay, I can help you. Let me help you.” The creature doesn’t give up, continuing to struggle. He feels his grip slipping, and he has to take several steps back.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa- hey, chill out-!”

The creature breaks free and slams into a wall.

***

When you wake up you know you’re not in your home. It doesn’t smell rancid and there are soft, silky textures brushing against you. Your head in resting on something soft and fluffy. The smell of palm trees is everywhere, and the world seems brighter. The noise is still there, though.

Outside, a car’s horn goes off repeatedly, resulting in you shifting around and trying to bury your head in the soft object.

…Your hands are bound. So are your legs. The softness rubs against you. It’s a new sensation, one you aren’t used to. The smell gets stronger and you start to panic. So, like any scared joey, you start to call out for your parent.

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” You hear the man call. You hear him head over and enter the room, immediately joining your side. He starts to rub your back gently, shushing you. Stop it- stop it- you try to protest but he interrupts you. “I know, I know. It’s all new and confusing. But it’s okay! I’ll take care of you now. Don’t worry, I know you’re not a pet. You’re…uh…well, I don’t know, but you’re a person.”

“Oh, don’t cry, it’s okay. I’m helping. I had to tie you up ‘cause I didn’t want you to hurt yourself again! It’ll be okay, I promise. No more of that nasty stuff for you.”

“I know you’re scared, but look at it this way! You’re not alone anymore! And now I’m not alone either. I wanna guess you’re…what? Seventeen? Y’know, most humans think you’re an adult when you hit eighteen, but I think twenty-one is more reasonable. No “teen” in “twenty-one,” is there?”

I was actually thinking of this while writing the werewolf story! And I gave “Dad” a name this time. Speaking of which, I feel like giving the other guys names. Is there a way to vote on it or something? I want to hear your guys’s ideas

I will definitely add onto this as well.

You're looking spectacular today! Drink water! Eat something that isn't chips! SLEEP!

#yandere #platonic #platonic yandere #yandere imagines #platonic yandere imagine #monster reader #yandere dad #yandad #yandere platonic #yan imagine #dad yandere

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weirdworldofwinnie · 8 months

Text

Heat of the Moment - One Night Passion

Cillian Murphy as J. Robert Oppenheimer x Female Reader NSFW 18+ only, One shot

Summary: You, a young psychology student and friend of Jean Tatlock, drink a little too much at a Communist gathering and find yourself falling for the esteemed Dr. Oppenheimer himself.

Word Count: 3,830

Warnings: Age gap, Cheating, Drunkenness, Loss of virginity, Unprotected sex, Smut with little plot

Disclaimer: this is ONLY intended to be based on Cillian Murphy's portrayal of Oppenheimer in the film and takes place before he marries Kitty, moves to Los Alamos, and the development of the Trinity Test bomb. NOT historically or scientifically accurate and not supposed to be in support of the real man's life actions at all. DNI if you are uncomfortable or take issue with this. It is purely for entertainment purposes, and it is fantasy/fiction!

The party was brimming with people, many being prominent due-payers of the Communist party and you met your friend Jean's eye across the room through the warm glow and haze of cigarettes. She was standing with a few men and one woman as you approached, noticing one well dressed man in particular who had his back to you and you felt your heart involuntarily stutter when he turned, his wide strikingly blue eyes on you intensely. You swallowed and then Jean introduced you and he simply nodded with an amicable smile before turning back to the others in their discussion huddle. You were at bit surprised at his dismissiveness, but didn't take it too personally as you drifted over to get a drink from the bar area. Holding a full cocktail glass, you casually observed the room, noticing at once how Dr. Oppenheimer had one of those magnetic personalities, as long as you were an intellectual (although he was a good enough speaker that he could capture the attention of the common man and likely even someone who knew absolutely nothing about physics), yet at the same time he tended to eclipse everyone else around him. They all seemed to orbit around him in a fashion and the longer the night drew on, you too found yourself drawn to his quiet charisma and you now were seeing what Jean saw in him. After an hour of drinking and mingling around in various conversations, you mustered up the nerve to approach his ring again and stood next to your friend with only a couple other people you didn't know chatting to him about his teaching at Berkeley. He glanced at you, his eyes lighting with more interest than the initial impression.

"Hello again, Miss Y/N. Excuse me," he told the others and moved, breaking their circle to focus on you alone.

"Would you like a drink?" he asked politely but without waiting for an answer, he went to personally make a martini himself and then pour it into a crystal glass, topping it with a slice of lime. You were empty handed at the moment, but neglected to tell him you'd already had two glasses of alcohol already. He gave the filled glass to you, his fingers brushing your wrist as he did and you thanked him as he leaned against the counter with his own drink that almost mirrored yours.

"It's my preferential recipe. Do you like it?" he asked curiously as you drank and decided it tasted a bit bitter and tangy, so you just raised your eyebrows and smiled assuredly with what you thought was a convincing nod, however, he must have seen otherwise.

"Too bitter, isn't it? I'm working on it; it would probably be better off with a dash of honey." He raised his glass and suddenly swapped it with yours, taking a sip and giving a satisfied expression.

"Hmm, right. I'll remedy it and I do apologize, I was actually just testing you there for your opinion. I'll have this one, you enjoy mine instead."

Unsure of whether you should be flattered or not, you drank his original and it was more appeasing of your sweet tooth, and then he proceeded to ask you about what you were currently studying and how long you knew Jean.

You gave him simple answers at first, feeling a bit shy and guarded compared to the spotlight he projected. He was far from being a loud, obnoxious man but he wasn't timid in the slightest when it came knowledge and he gave off an air of aloofness and professionalism that slowly broke the more you opened up about psychology and politics while making it clear to him you considered yourself a somewhat free spirit trying to make your way in a predominantly male run world. It was refreshing to you that he actually sincerely listened and wasn't too condescending like other men you had encountered in the field.

"Interesting. Have you considered applying that to a career for the future, I assume you are aiming for a psychology degree? Or is it a base point to advance you into becoming a psychiatrist? I'm sure you would be able use medicine in addition to your Freudian theories to mitigate such deep mental issues."

"Well, to tell you the truth, I'm only my second year in for psychology and I doubt my father will pay for addition schooling on top of that, but theoretically yes, I would love to. It's my passion and I have a prudent desire to assist others, not just study them under a detached microscopic lens, so to speak. I want to help people understand who they are and I myself want to understand why their brains work the way that they do. And if some disorders could be cured with certain drugs when all else fails, I would consider that a great accomplishment for humanitarian progress."

"That certainly is a valuable asset, to understand one's self, and especially in this rapidly complicated changing world and the more we have a stronger grasp of the human mind, the better off we will be I suppose. But remember, to know is to do. Theory will only take you so far."

You nodded, soaking that in and taking an ample sip from the drink, which was spurring you on in confidence, so you began to ramble on about the damaging psychological impacts of war before jumping to the effects of practical versus ideological Communism on modern society... at least until a young man interrupted, joining the two of you for a while and you let Oppenheimer divert his attention to him instead as they delved into more physics, which you honestly only had a basic understanding of. You drained down the rest of the martini, refilling it with a simple gin instead to sip more than you should and you definitely were feeling tipsy as the evening wore on to a close, hovering by Oppenheimer's side constantly and perhaps even unconsciously flirting while ignoring Jean's stares from several feet away. He wasn't paying attention at the moment, so you turned to set down your empty glass, but stumbled into a stool on the way. You spun around, feeling Dr. Oppenheimer place a hand on your shoulder, steadying you.

"Perhaps you should retire for the night," he advised softly, close to your ear.

"No… I'm fine," you insisted, the heat rising to your cheeks as he took your shaky hand and you caught Jean giving you one last glare before she disappeared into a murky corner of the room. You looked back to him staring at you concernedly and you blinked as he spoke quietly.

"There, now where are you staying? Surely it can't be far, I'll take you home."

"N-No, my apartment's the next town over and you don't have to, I-I think I'll be okay..." you stammered absurdly and wavered on your feet, not the least bit sober. He changed direction, pivoting to catch you under your arms, and propping you up straighter.

"I believe there is a spare bedroom upstairs, I'll take you to it." Without another word, he led you out of the room and tottering up creaky stairs that led to an upper floor. A few doors down, he took you into an empty small stuffy room with a single queen bed. As you collapsed onto it, sighing deeply after a hiccup, he brushed aside the beige curtains and opened the window, letting the cool night air flicker through.

"Stay here, I'll be right back with some water," he said and exited for a few minutes, coming back shortly with two glasses of water in his hands, one for himself that he took a careful gulp from and you found yourself wondering if his mouth was dry or if he could be nervous. You accepted your cold glass and drank, washing down the strong mix of cocktails and gin taste from your tongue.

"A bit better?" he asked kindly, getting a nod in return as he took the glass from you and set it down on the bedside table next to his own. You watched as he stepped over and stood in front of the window, rustling the curtains. He stayed still there for a while in a pondering pose, smoking and staring out at the street below, presumably lost in thought as he often was. You made a sort of groaning noise and he turned, hand on his hip with a raise of his eyebrows.

"Are you going to be sick? Should I call for someone?"

"No!" you gasped, sitting up with a swirl of the room as he strode over to the door. You did not need your parents to find out about this, especially your father.

"Wait - Please don't leave," you begged and he hesitantly came over, abandoning his cigarette in the ash tray on the nightstand next to the glasses of water and sitting down, getting a good look at your bloodshot eyes and tousled hair, a few strands obscuring your vision. He gently took his hand and wiped the hairs off to the side of your face, his touch on your flushed cheek sending shivers up your spine. He leaned back, putting his hands on his knees and you let out a shaky breath, trying to reorient.

"Have you ever drank before?" he inquired knowingly and you laughed weakly.

"Of course I have."

"I'm afraid that you overdid it this time or otherwise you must have a low tolerance. I only offered you one drink after all." He held up his right hand, splaying his fingers apart.

"How many do you see?" he asked seriously and you only giggled, pushing his hand down.

"Five, maybe six? I feel finnee."

He shook his head, maybe amused, and you had the impulse to climb onto his lap, so you began to slide over, swinging your legs and scooting halfway onto his lap, making him blink in surprise and gasp slightly.

"What are you…?"

You shushed him and wrapped your arms seductively around his neck, resting your head on his shoulder with your ruby lips inches from his neck. He put his hand on your back uneasily and you whispered in his ear.

"Could you carry me to the bathroom?"

"I can't - What? Why?"

"I might be sick."

He pushed away, letting you slip off his slender body and sitting back onto the sheets with a light laugh.

"I think you should lie down again," he said firmly and you flumped your head onto the pillows, your face burning as he stood up, moving around to tug your feet out of your heels and then his hand caught, wrapping his fingers around your ankle and sending a sensation up your legs. You tilted forward, reading his oddly grim expression.

"What is it?"

"I should leave," he murmured, tossing the shoes to the floor and removing his hand reluctantly.

"You don't have to," you told him earnestly, struggling to grasp for him as he stayed at the end of the bed.

"You aren't in a normal state of mind, I'm afraid."

"Are you?"

"Not as much as I should be," he admitted with a sigh, knowing it would be inappropriate to sleep with Jean's friend that he had just met and it was unknown if you had a boyfriend or not.

"Well, I doon't caaare…" you slurred out and he went to sit on the bed next to you as you shifted, sitting up with your elbows. Dr. Oppenheimer gazed fondly and then you both began to instinctively lean into each other, his nose meeting yours and he tilted his head, giving you the incentive to lock lips and slide your tongue into his mouth, letting him reciprocate slowly until both parties pulled away, you panting excitedly.

This seemed to cause a chain reaction that had him scooting over closely so he was fully on the bed, loping his arms around at your back and you tugged at his black tie, wrestling with undoing it as he let go of you to shrug off his suit jacket and discard it, his breathing quickening. He slipped off his shoes and socks, dropping them over the bed with a clump before his fingers found the zipper on the back of your dress and he fumbled, forcing it down and letting it pool off your body to the sheets, running a hand over your bare skin. Pausing slightly with his hands nearing to unfastening your bra, he murmured urgently.

"Don't tell Jean about this."

"But she's my friend," you protested loudly and he put a finger to your lips with a 'shh' that made your heart palpitate.

"I don't want her to find out the hard way."

"She… She'll figure it out, right?"

"She may, but I don't want it to come from you. This is all my doing, I'll take the responsibility for my own actions, do you understand?"

"Oh yes, I do Mister J. Robert 'Oppie' Oppenheimer… What's the J stand for anyway?"

"Nothing important," he replied shortly and you reached to feel his bottom lip, smiling in curiosity.

"C'mon, tell me. Is it John, James, Joe...?"

He shook his head, closing his eyes and you laughed, tracing his defined cheekbones with your fingers.

"It's Julius," he admitted almost sheepishly and you cocked your head, cupping his chin.

"As in Julius Caesar?"

He wet his lips, the corners of his mouth twitching in annoyed amusement.

"Et tu, Miss Y/N?" He paused for a fraction of a second with a light sigh.

"Just call me Robert," he then told you and leaned in to kiss you again, caressing the sides of your face as he did so and you eagerly wound your tongue with his, passionately pressing into his face. He smelled heady; smoky and of aftershave mixed with some brand of cologne, not overpowering but enough to be noticed and mildly sting your nostrils when you went to mouth his neck.

He moved to hover over you, hands grazing your nearly naked body. You let him take the bra and he flung it over his shoulder to the floor and all that was left was your panties. You unbuttoned his light blue dress shirt and opened it up, stroking the light hairs on his chest as he fingered your panties, the last barrier to whatever was going to come into effect. Robert ran a single finger up along your abdomen and past to one of your breasts, circling the nipple and it hardened substantially at the stimulation, which he transferred over to the other one, teasingly fingering back and forth before he sank his face into your chest, his tongue trailing where his fingers had been and you whined, letting the budding arousal take you higher. Then he retracted his mouth, moving back and going to himself, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants, popping them open to reveal boxers concealing his burgeoning, bulging cock with tightening testicles. He wriggled out of his pants, kicking them away to hang off the side of the bed and he leaned over, coming to hover on top of you and you felt the pressing of the underwear fabric hiding his growing penis, and you felt inclined to slide your hands down to grope it, fingers yanking at the band around his waist.

"Go ahead, take it," he encouraged and you pulled the boxers down, seeing he was already dripping with precum and your breath came in pants, anxious to feel him, but the rational part of your alcohol tainted brain was reminding you that you'd never taken it this far with a man before. He shifted, supporting himself by pressing his palms to the cream colored plump pillow behind your head and immediately settling over to align. You felt him trying to enter, your clitoris throbbing with anticipation, but he wasn't successful at first of getting in.

"God, you are too tight," he muttered and you froze, staring up at him as Robert now realized the exact nature of you.

"First time ever?" he asked with trepidation and you nodded somewhat shamefully, embarrassed. It wasn't like you hadn't been with men before, but this was the first for it to get this far with full-on penetration. He closed his eyes for a second, controlling his patience for he wanted so desperately to come inside of you, but he had to ask.

"How old are you?"

"I - Is that important?"

"Just please tell me you're at least 21 and don't lie about it."

"Yes, I'm over 21."

"Alright. Well, there's a first time for everything. I'll go slower."

He shimmied down your naked body until his head was at your vagina and he put his hands up on your stomach, massaging vigorously into your skin, eliciting a tiny happy moan. You never felt this aroused around anyone before and just his hands on any part of your body was pleasurable, so you hoisted your hips up to meet his touch. But then he stopped abruptly, displaying two fingers and you squinted, body aching for more.

"How many I am holding up now?" he asked and a delirious giggle erupted from you.

"T-Two."

"Correct," he praised and promptly slid them up into your moist entry, causing you to cringe painfully and make a noise that made you clamp your own hand over your mouth, afraid the people downstairs might hear.

"How is that? Okay?" he asked in a hushed voice, anxious to go further and you just nodded, taking deep breaths.

You were now getting so wet and he started pumping his fingers in and out, eventually gaining traction with three in and you were whimpering and moaning, so close to orgasming when he pulled them all out and sat back on his haunches, his tongue flicking across his lips in a kind of hunger.

"Don't stop," you pleaded and Robert's eyes were dilated with desire as he came down, burrowing his head in-between your thighs, gripping your legs and kissing your pussy before lifting his head and looking at you squarely.

"Oh, I won't."

Without further ado, he repositioned himself over you and slowly pushed in, his cock breaking at your walls. You moaned, the pleasure outweighing the sharp pain and you clenched around his shaft, letting him penetrate as far as he could go into your core. Within moments, you let the orgasm ripple through you as he kept at it, coming to his own climax that wasn't going to be outside of you.

"Fuck, this feels good..." you breathed, rubbing your palms on Robert's short cut dark hair and he couldn't hold back any longer... exploding with his own euphoria, emitting a primal grunt that became a loud gasp. He pulled out wetly a few moments later, shuddering from the exertion and you reeled in what had just happened. You just had intercourse with this brilliant man… Oh God. And you didn't want it to stop; you weren't done yet.

You rolled over so you were on top of his body now and you carefully settled down so you were sitting on his upright swollen cock and the rubbing of it against your clit was making you close to orgasming for the second time.

"Stop," he gasped suddenly, trying to push you away.

"W-Why?"

"That's how she does it." He frowned, licking his lips and you didn't have to ask to know who he was talking about.

"Do you… like it?"

"Yes, of course, but-"

"Then I'm doing it, it feels good for me too," you told him with no arguments allowed and both of you began to rock back and forth, his still hardened dick pushing up against your vagina. He thrusted in again and you groaned, quivering.

"Oh, good girl," he whispered and you almost lost it at the tone of his slightly husky voice. You certainly never got that from the few men you'd courted briefly that had turned out to be too immature or pigheaded. This man actually felt like a real decent, more experienced man.

"Robert...!" you squealed, letting the boom of climaxing implode inside of you. You leaned back, letting him slide out and you gripped his slick dick mixed with fluids from both you and him, your nails very gently stroking it as he smiled, throwing his head back against the pillow in relaxation and pure joy.

You orgasmed a couple more times after that, each nearly as strong as the last which was new to you. What the hell was it about Robert that made your libido go off the charts?

Finally the two of you collapsed back together, staring up at the ceiling above in ecstasy. His chest was rising and falling in rhythm with yours and gradually your body cooled down, though your face still felt hot and a dull headache was coming on, but the night breeze from the window was making goosebumps pepper up on your skin.

"Cold?" Robert asked softly, noticing.

"Mm-hmm."

He sat up and grabbed his wrinkled boxers before deftly swinging a leg out of bed, getting up to the floor and yanking them back on. He also hastily snatched up his pants and slid back into them, not bothering to zip or buckle as he went over to the window and peered out once more at the street, then firmly shut it, closing the curtains securely and heading back over to the bed, lifting a corner of the sheets up and crawling in next to your bare body.

You scooted under the sheets and cuddled into his slim side, playfully fiddling with a button on his open shirt and letting him wrap an arm around you as you dozed off, listening to the faint ticking of his wristwatch, feeling utterly fucked out and exhausted. He fought his own fatigue, considering getting up and leaving you in case someone found the two of you up here, lest it be Jean, but you felt so cozy and close, he couldn't bear to disconnect and leave you alone for the night.

He wasn't entirely sure what would become of this drunken rendezvous encounter that you may not remember entirely, knowing very well it was likely he may never find himself loving you like this again. He loved Jean, he very much did, but he wondered if you would accept his flowers as easily as you had accepted his sex? Jean was most definitely a complicated, intelligent woman and he wasn't sure if you were in the same vein as her, but it wouldn't surprise him if you were. Was he drawn to any other type, really? Women were fascinating to explore, a close second to the hidden world of quantum physics.

Robert studied your pretty sleeping features in the dim lighting and then closed his eyes, letting the orange aura of the room drift the both of you away far off into nothingness…

(Thanks for reading and if you really liked this, please let me know! I'm rather new to Cillian Murphy and not well versed at all in writing one of his characters with smut, but there was just something I found so attractively compelling about him as Oppenheimer especially, so maybe this is a bit self-indulgent, but he's such a great actor that is also very sexy of course.❤️)

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