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reverieblondie · 13 days

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Remember Me?

Pairing: ExNerd!Miguel O’Hara X AFAB!civillainreader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Smut with Plot, Praise, Unprotected Penetrative Sex (wrap it before you tap it), , Oral, Cowgirl, Missionary. You and Miguel make a mess...

Summary: Miguel has changed a lot since high school, but one thing remains the same...how he feels about you.

A/N: I have been trying to write about Miguel for weeks now! Every time I get close to finishing something for him I reread it and hate it! So I am posting this before I can change my mind! I hope you all enjoy I tried my best!

Word Count: 6,823

“Pfft…I can't believe this is real; this can’t be real!” Gwen keeps repeating to herself, trying to stifle back her laughter.

“I know! I couldn’t believe my eyes when Peter showed me but here it is!” Miles agrees; Pav quickly slings his arm around Miles for a better look.

“Take a look at the specks on him. Did you know he needed glasses?”

“Flip to the club photo. Now, that will shock you all.”

At Hobies request the teens quickly start flipping through pages. The sound of flipping pages and then the sudden bursting of laughter from the small huddle was something Miguel could no longer ignore. Miguel wasn’t sure why the teens and Peter were in his office. But since the events with the spot and some well-deserved apologies, Miguel, in the teen's words, “Chilled out,” and now they seem to hang out around him more. Meaning they are often now in his office… Miguel, of course, tried to appear as indifferent as possible to this change of pace, though He had to admit it was somewhat nice to have the cheerful ambiance that came with them... Hell, sometimes they could make him chuckle; Miles was actually pretty funny. But, of course, he keeps these things to himself.

Miguel makes his way to the huddle to see what could possibly be so enthralling. When he sees what's causing their uproar, his blood runs cold, freezing him dead in his tracks.

Is….that…his….yearbook…

It was turned to his picture and plan as the day under his unrecognizable photo was his name. So there was no getting out of this saying it wasn’t him…

“Miguel, is this really you?” Miles questions pointing to the picture.

“Must be his name right there,” Pav teases, making Miguel groan. This was an actual nightmare.

Looking over them, Miguel sees the picture they are all questioning; the difference is pretty night and day. A young 17-year-old Miguel was way scrawnier compared to his now bulking physique. His dark brown eyes were hidden behind his thick black-rimmed glasses, the only ones his mother could afford at the time. Miguel's thick, wavy brown hair looks untamed as it hangs down his forehead, threatening to cover his eyes if not for his glasses, the rest hanging loosely down to the nape of his neck. Poor kid was desperate for a haircut. Their cheekbones and jaw were still chiseled, and his face was not yet littered with lines of stress, sleepless nights, and age.

Hobie quickly grabs the yearbook, vigorously flipping through the pages until he stops on a picture of a young Miguel holding up a mathlete trophy, awkward smile and all. “This is my favorite picture. Do you still smile like that, bruv?”

“How did you all get this?” Miguel asks in irritation, pinching the bridge of his nose as if that will somehow stop his building anger and embarrassment.

Very aware of the sight of Miguel about to rage out, the young spiders quickly part, pointing the blame to a laughing Peter. Who finally quits his laughing fit as now he is staring into the eyes of a very irritated Miguel, waiting for an explanation.

Peter nervously clears his throat before speaking, “Wel, uh…do you remember a couple of days ago when you told me to drop off that equipment at your apartment? Well…I happened to see this on your living room bookshelf and thought I would look at it. Then I saw how much you had changed… I figured the kiddos would get a kick out of it…”

Miguel's eyes narrow, and his talons pop out, ready to bounce, but that is quickly escalated by Gwen taking back the yearbook, prepared to negotiate peace.

“Okay, okay, no need to rip his head off; we will return your book.” Miguel's body relaxes as he sighs of relief, holding out his hand for the book, but Gwen smirks, holding the book back out of his reach, “But, you have to show us your old crush first.”

Miguel’s eyes nearly pop out of his head, freezing at the terms of the agreement, and everyone else, including Layla, starts oohing. Making Miguel pitch the bridge of his nose again, muttering under his breath, “Esto tiene que ser una pesadilla…” (this has to be a nightmare…)

Then, to make things worse, they start chanting, “Show us….Show us…Show us! Show us!!”

The chatting became too much, and he snapped, holding out his hand irritatedly for the book. “Fine! I will show you; just shut up!”

A yay fills the room as Miguel starts irritatedly flipping through the book as soon as it’s laid in his hand. Everyone waits in bated breath until finally landing on the correct page. It's the page he spent the summer before college staring at, the picture he had agonized over. Miguel pauses, taking in the picture, and he feels those familiar feelings rushing up and swelling in his chest…Those high school crushes do hit you hard…

Even after all these years, he still remembers you so vividly; seeing the picture always solidifies for himself as confirmation as to why he had liked you so much. Beautiful and popular, everyone would only have positive things to say, even if your friend group wasn’t as nice. Miguel remembers that sweetness fondly. Though, behind that sweet smile, there was a mischievous side of you; he recalls hearing it hidden in your cooing voice when you would say that pet name during chemistry class…

“Miggy~”

The memory warms Miguel's cheeks, but he quickly dismisses the feeling. “There, that's her.”

The teens quickly grab the book back, climbing over each other to marvel at the picture of the girl the oh-so-scary Spider-Man 2099 had a crush on when he was their age.

“Wow, she's stunning!” Gwen complements

Miguel hums in agreement, “Yeah… the prettiest girl in my grade…prom queen, part of the student council, incredibly sweet…, and we took chemistry together…”

Pav and Hobie shoot Miguel a smirk, and he quickly huffs, folding his arms over his chest.

“Ever work up the nerve to confess?” Pav questions, ever the romantic.

The group watches as Miguel closes his eyes, thinking that the blush from earlier is slowly rising to his tan cheeks, making them all gasp in excitement.

“You did!” They all scream, but Miguel is quick to correct them.

“Well…technically…I didn’t”

“What do you mean technically?” Miles prys

Miguel can’t believe he admitted this much, but since he's already down the rabbit hole, he might as well give some more context: “At graduation…I kinda did, then I…ran away…”

A look of shock and confusion fills the teenager's face, but Peter is all grins and is going to give Miguel a high five: “Ah, the mysterious type. Nice.”

Gwen quickly swats him on the shoulder, earning a whine from the man.

“Not nice! That is so confusing! You just ran? Did you ever talk to her again?”

Miguel takes a second to avoid eye contact, stoically starting to the side, before letting out a quiet, “No…”

There is a collective groan, and Miguel rolls his eyes, trying to contain his high school embarrassment.

“Can we stop talking about this and return to work now?”

“Have you seen her since?” Miles questions,

“No,” Miguel answers sharply, irritation coming back up.

“Wha-what! How will you ever win her love if you don’t clear up the misunderstanding and confess your true feelings!” Pav laments, making everyone look at him with a raised brow.

“Pav, mate…you know how long it's been since he's seen her?” Hobie chides

Pav shrugs slightly, muttering, “Maybe it could be like a romantic thing…”

“So wait, You have all the resources and never thought to at least search her out? Aren't you curious?” Gwen prods

“No, I never thought about stalking my old crush. Now, can we please-”

“She lives in the city!” Miles' voice calls out, making Miguel whip around.

Miles and Layla stand on Miguel's platform with your picture, info, and social media pulled up on his halo screens. Everyone is quick to web over, including Miguel. Miguel quickly pushes away a beaming Miles as he takes in all your information. He sees where you went to college, where you work, and…

“Ooohhh! She's still single!” Pav beams, looking at Miguel expectancy.

Miguel rolls his eyes as he keeps looking at you, still as perfect as he remembered. Somehow, you seem more confident in yourself, you seem…sexier…

Feelings start rising back to Miguel's chest. He hasn’t seen you in so long, and even your pictures still stir something within him.

“Wow! This is awesome!” Miles beams, pointing to one of the screens

Miguel, being too lost in your pictures, hasn’t realized what the teens are yammering about until they all start shaking him back and forth in excitement. Then he finally hears it.

“You can see her at your High School reunion! It's coming up in a couple of weeks!”

Miguel turns his head to the invitation Layla had pulled up. “You got this a month ago but didn’t think you would be interested…. It looks like you will be attending now, though!”

Before he can protest, she is RSVPing, and all the teens are hollering in laughter and giving high-fives. Everything is happening so fast that all Miguel can do is stand there in something akin to a trance. That's until Pav comes up to him with a giddy smile,

“It’s like density!”

Miguel groans…he wants everyone to get back to work…

They really got him here….How the hell did he let them convince him to come here? They even managed to get him to dress up…

Hair in its usually slick back style, slate gray button down that did little to hide his bulk, and black trousers that he thought appeared too tight but Layla had insisted upon.

Miguel stands uncomfortably off to the side as people he used to know all gather together, chit-chatting about their lives and reminiscing on the good old days… All while Miguel stays sulking in the corner…Maybe things from high school haven’t changed that much. Well, despite the whole genetic splicing that made him a superhero… Instead of still being the captain of the Mathletes team, he's now the CEO of Aleamax. However, one thing remains the same: When he is in a room filled with all these people from school, his eyes still roam around, trying to find you…

High school had not been kind to a nerd like him. He was 9 inches shorter, and the most important things to him were keeping all A’s, getting into his dream college, keeping up with his favorite comic series, avoiding bullying, and wanting so badly to kiss his crush.

Miguel vividly recalls all those times in chemistry when you two worked so closely together. Miguel shyly mutters the mixing process while you lean in with stars in your eyes, taking it all in. Miguel never knew if you were interested in what he was saying or if you were trying to get a good grade, but he didn’t care. You still made his cheeks flush and heart race all the same.

“Then…When-when you add fluid B to A, you will get a fizzing reaction…”

A shaking Younger Miguel tries to steadily pour in the fluids while you watch, leaning in so close he could smell your sweet perfume and look at your glittery glossed lips.

“Wow! Miggy, you’re so smart.” Your voice would be like sweet honey praising him, and the mere closeness of you to him would make his body feel like it was going to melt.

“I keep telling my friends I have the best lab partner…” Miguel feels his throat dry as your hand slowly curls over his forearm. Then the bell rings, and Miguel is flustered, packing his things as you smile sweetly and wave goodbye.

God, you must have been just messing with him, toying with him, knowing he was like a love-sick puppy for you. The worst part, if this was the case, he would have let you…Miguel would have let you toy and bat away at his heart until you felt content with it fully unraveling to you. Pathic…is that what you thought? Well, if it wasn’t what you thought of him before, it must be what you thought after his pitiful confession…

Miguel thinks back to that night when he last saw you…that all too familiar warmth threatens to take him over, so as he stares down at his drink, he slips back to that moment…

The ceremony had ended, everyone had exited the stadium, and Miguel was taking a second to calm himself in the dark hallway. High school was over, and his life was beginning. He was thinking back on all his decisions for this new chapter. Miguel fidgets with his graduation cap and feels about what awaits him. Then he thinks about the things he missed out on…

Then your face comes to mind…he had vowed to confess; even if you laughed and rejected him, he wanted to get his feelings off his chest. But when it came down to it, he let his shyness get the better of him and let you slip through his fingers without telling you. This was high school? He was sure to like other girls…but why was this eating away at him so much? Why did he feel so sick to his stomach for not doing this…

The sound of clicking heels fills the corridor, and like fate, you are walking through the hallway back toward him. Miguel adjusts his glasses, unsure if this is some kind of halustion brought on by self-pity, but no… it was you…

As soon as your eyes locked to his, your lips curled to that all too familiar smile, the one that was so sweet. Then your voice rang that teasing nickname you graciously bestowed upon him.

“Miggy, what are you doing, silly? Hanging out in the dark…Don’t you want to go celebrate?”

“Oh…... I didn’t plan to go to any parties… just going to go home and get started on some summer reading…”

The smile that curled on your lips was additive as you stepped closer to his slouching form, “hm…Miggy…always so prepared… I’m going to miss seeing you around so much. I’m sure you're the only reason I passed chem!”

“No…I am sure you will have more interesting people to talk to than a nerd like me…”

“Maybe I like talking to nerds like you.”

The statement made Miguel look up to see you so close to him mischive filling your eyes. Leaning in so close to him, he feels like he can’t breathe when he looks at you so close like this…

“You don’t mean that…” he chuckles softly.

Then your index finger lifts his chin, and you look at him with sweet eyes, but your tone is stern, “Don’t tell me what I mean…”

Miguel feels his heartbeat quicken, and his palms begin to sweat. Before he can return to rational thought, he leans into you.

He so gently cups your cheek with his nervous hands. Brushing his nose against yours, his shaky breath fanning over your sparkly glossed lips. Then, when your lips finally meet, he isn’t sure who fills the gap.

The kiss was so sweet, and he held you so gently, but he knew you could feel the shaking of his hands and the heat rushing to his face. Everything around you two seemed to fade.

Eyes shut tightly from falling into the depths of the kiss, he pulls away to breathe. Peeking open his eyes, Miguels sees you are breathless, and your face is burning with a deep blush. You look so surprised... and he doesn't know what to say or how to explain.

“I’m sorry…I just had to do that once…”

Then he ran off… leaving you alone in that dark hallway, scared of what you would say next…

“Miggy!”

“Miguel?”

Lost in his thoughts, Miguel failed to notice that one of his ex-classmates had been trying to get his attention. One of them must have finally recognized him. Looking up from his cup, Miguel expects to see one of his old mathlete teammates, but as he finally meets their eyes, he feels his heart stop at the sight.

Looking up at him with that same sweet smile, you look just like he remembers: completely radiant. Your pictures showed you were still beautiful, but in person, you are the thing he remembers most about you: breathtaking.

“Miguel, that's gotta be you… Do you remember me?” -How could he not remember you?

Miguel feels himself staring at his thoughts, running everywhere; what does he say? What does he do?

“I…I, of course, remember m-my lab partner.” -Okay, a little shaky…But with your face seeming to light up when he says he remembers and your eyes roaming over him, he can’t chastise himself too much for stuttering now. Miguel feels his hands starting to become clammy, and his stomach feels full of butterflies…shit…this feels like high school all over again.

“I can not believe how different you look!”

“Yeah, late growth spurt and I uh… I started going…to the gym a lot….You though! You still look so beati- uh nice…good you look outstanding…” His mind is running a mile a minute, and he can’t believe how he is acting right now! He's Spider-Man, and he’s acting so nervous?

Smirking, you look as if you could read his mind about how nervous he is, though to anyone with working eyes, it was obvious.

“You think I look good?” you ask, playful, making Miguel's eyes take in just how tight your dress is. “I was hoping for beautiful…” you smile, giving him a wink. His blood rushes in his veins, and he swallows his suddenly dry throat.

You could eat him alive…and he would let you…

“Beautiful then, you - uh… you have always looked beautiful…”

“Thank you, Miguel, you look very handsome.” Miguel feels his heart racing as you step closer. Your eyes stay on his confident smile on your glossy lips. It teeters on cocky, and Miguel can’t bring himself to hate it…he loves it…

“Though Miguel, I do have to say…I miss the glasses; they were really cute.”

“I still have some that I wear sometimes,” he says a bit too eagerly.

Your smirk widens, “Really? Does your girlfriend like them?”

“Oh, I don’t have a girlfriend.”

The smirk on your lips borders on sinful “Good…” You purr

Miguel feels a wave of electricity shakes through him. Are you flirting? Miguel can’t help the smile and blush that's now reached to the tips of his ears. Miguel came here thinking that you wouldn’t be here, and if you were, you would be avoiding him, but he didn’t expect this. Do you even remember it? Well, of course, you would! Who forgets getting kissed, and then the person runs? He needs to apologize before he never sees you again.

“So Umm…I am glad I got to see you, well other than it’s just nice seeing you…but I want to apologize…”

“You’re talking about graduation.” Your cheerful voice cuts him off and utterly confuses him. Furrowing his brow, he’s lost and hoping you can explain.

“Miguel, I like the kiss…I wish you wouldn’t have run away…”

Miguel is sure he’s died, and there is no possible way you're saying this to him. Sweet, perfect you, like when he kissed you. Nerdy awkward him? Gently, Miguel feels your hands touching his chest, slowly dancing your fingertips over his muscles. Miguel hopes you can’t feel the way his heartbeat is racing right now.

“You know, now that I really think about it…you owe me an apology or something. It was very rude of you to kiss me suddenly and then run away like that, teasing me. Then, when I went to reach out to you, you didn't have any socials. That's not very nice to do, you know…”

Your hand slightly grazes his jaw, and he feels like he could melt. Rising to your tiptoes, you try to whisper in his ear as you lean into his chest, your chest rubbing against him. Miguel can feel himself starting to break a sweat.

“I thought you were sweet…”

Miguel feels you start to pull away, and in a moment of bravery or desperation, he carefully places his hands on your waist. Leaning down, he whispers back to you.

“Could I make it up to you somehow?”

“I have an idea…if you're up for it?”

Gathering his confidence, when he sees your smile, he squeezes your sides slightly, “Anything you want.”

Without any hesitation, you grab his large hand from your waist and pull him along with you to slip out of the reception room into a dark hallway. The irony is not lost on either of you as you grin and pull each other close. Your lips are so close to his as you lean into his chest.

“You're not going to run away this time. I want you to do this properly this time…”

Part of Miguel feels like he could be dreaming; your arms are wrapped around his neck, your fingers tangled in his hair, smiling at him so sweetly. Your eyes are one of pure hunger, and your voice is so transparent with your want. It’s perfect.

Miguel brushes his thumb over your tempting lips, slightly dragging the bottom down while he tries to archer himself back to reality. Moving his hand to your neck as he leans in and kisses you. Your lips are soft and perfectly guiding against his. Miguel's hands fall to your hips; he digs his fingers into the plush of your skin, making you gasp into his mouth with a moan. It’s been a long time since he’s kissed you, and he wants to make sure you know how much he wants you… trying his hardest to impress you.

The fingers in his hair tighten to a fist as you guide him to part his plush lips, then slip in your tongue to get a taste of him. It’s gentle at first but quickly heats up from your eager influence. Then you start straddling his thick thighs, grinding slightly against him. Both your bodies feel like you’ve been set on fire in a blazing flame of want.

“Miggy, I always like you…just-”

Before you can finish your words, Miguel drives his tongue back into your mouth, eager to taste those words he had always wanted to hear. His hands cup your ass as he drives his knee deeper between your legs, letting you use him more. Breaking the kiss, you let out the most perfect moans as your body tingles and shivers. Miguel hasn’t had enough of you yet as he keeps his mouth kissing against your flushed skin. His tongue rolls over your rapid pulse as you keep grinding and mewing for more.

“Fuck, miggy~”

Miguel licks a long strip up your neck before grunting in your ear, “I… I only came here… to see you…t-talk to you…”

His rough words make you grind against him more, and right as Miguel starts to feel your slick soaking through his pants, you pull his hair, successfully pulling a whimper from him, which is quickly cut off by your soft lips to his again. Then, as you pull away, you bite his bottom lip, which makes him shiver.

“Can…can I take you home…” Miguel asks breathlessly, his hands still squeezing your ass.

A small giggle leaves your kiss-bitten lips as you take a second to fix his now-disheveled hair, thanks to you.

“Take me to your place, Miggy; you still owe me…”

Miguel feels a rush of excitement run through him, making his length throb at your words. You really are going to eat him alive…

It's the perfect sight he’s only ever dreamed of seeing, you sitting on his large bed completely naked, a sweet smile on your face, soft legs crossed over each other, waiting patiently for him. Miguel adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose…you had insisted, and he’s finding he can’t deny you…

Miguel slips off his underwear, kicking them away. Your eyes widen as you see his massive length slap against his abdomen, then hanging heavily. Your eyes rake over his immaculate form; the sight of you licking your licks isn’t lost on him.

“Strip for me, Miggy,” you taunted as you dropped your dress with little effort, waiting for him to follow. Of course, he did. He would follow anything your sweet voice commands. Just please…let him touch you…

Running his hand through his hair, Miguel approaches you, but your sweet voice turns to him in disapproval, and he pauses.

“No walking, I want you to crawl on your hands and knees…please? Miggy~”

Every time you use that old nickname, he feels his cock twitch. Keeping his now blazing eyes on you as he slowly sinks to his knees and begins to crawl to you obediently. The action is meant to make him look submissive, but you find that even now, he looks like a predator getting ready to devour its prey… The shiver that shoots down your spine goes right to your sex, making you drip down on his sheets.

As Miguel crawls closer, you unfold your legs, stretching one out slowly toward him. His large hand immediately catches your ankle. Hungry eyes look up at you, blazing with want, as his hand slowly creases up your leg. Miguel's lips kiss softly against your calf while he whispers faint words under his breath after every kiss. His eyes watch you as he slowly raises your legs, the back of your thighs being pressed against his broad shoulders.

Miguel's hands grab your hips, making you slip a moan. His eyes turn softer as he hears you moan, his lips coming away from the fresh mark he's left on your inner thigh. Miguel's lips part to apologize, but you're quick to interrupt before he can.

Leaning forward, you push his glasses back into their proper place and crease his cheek. “You're doing so well for me, Miguel…though…It does feel like you're trying to make me beg… Are you trying to tease me?”

Miguel's lips curl into a smile as he lowers his face to lick his tongue against your clit. You throw your head back at the hot contact, Miguel groaning at the sweet taste of your cyprine.

“I wouldn’t dream of teasing you…” Miguel's lips lower down to your clit before he gives it a quick lick.

Unable to help yourself, you grab a fist full of his hair, making him let out a soft groan, “Then devore me, Miggy; you still owe me, remember? And I-Ah!~”

Before you can finish your taunting, Miguel is driving his face into your wet sex to selfishly devore more of you. Long slow licks of his warm tongue send waves of pleasure to flood your body as your toes curl from every push of his nose to your clit.

His breaths for air huffing against your quivering sex, the tip of his tongue darting back to lick against your soft folds, making you whine. Looking down at him, his glasses crooked and hazy and his groans continue to vibrate through your pussy. Then the sensation of his tongue probing you open makes you close your thighs against his head and grab this thick hair, pulling hard enough for a grunt to slip through his chest. Getting the message, Miguel moves his tongue to lick your sensitive clit as his finger slips into you. Your grip on his hair gets tighter as you squirm, grinding your hips against his face, mouth hanging open as your chest heaves moan after moan. Your body starts shaking at the addition of another finger, making you feel jolts of pleasure that make you need to roll your hips onto his face more.

Miguel could carless at the apparent use of his face for your pleasure; it's all he craves right now, your cum to dip all over his eager tongue. For your hips grind onto his face for hours. He would stay on his knees worshiping you like this until you're calling out from too much pleasure, and even then, he doesn’t know how he could pull himself away from your delicious taste.

You feel him groan into you, the vibrations rushing through you to cause you to gasp and shiver as his tongue keeps sliding in and out of you, desperate for your sweetness. You want more, need more, you crave it with every roll of your hips; you want him in you deeply. Unclenching your thighs from his head, you pull his hair, forcing his face from you with a wet pop.

Miguel's eyes are blown as he keeps them steady on yours, his full lips parted and panting. The sight of his face glistening with a mix of his saliva and your arousal is sinful and complete perfection. His poor glasses are resting on his face, still lopsided from his ravenous pursuit to taste your cunt. Leaving forward, you keep a smile as you hold his cheek; he immediately melts into it. Grabbing his glasses from his head, you toss them to his nightstand; before he can say anything to you, you're leaning forward to bring him into a kiss. His lips and tongue are laced with you, and you can’t help but want to giggle as he groans and leans his whole body onto you, so needy for more.

With a gentle push to his massive chest, you can change the positions as you now straddle his hips effortlessly. You are slowly running your hands up and down his chest and abdomen, feeling his hair decorating his skin, making your mouth water. As you shift yourself up, you feel his swollen length hanging heavily as you nudge against it. The tip is hot and already pebbling with glistening pre-cum, straining for you to envelope around him. Reaching down, you flick your eyes from his eyes to his length.

Miguel sure has changed over the years, but his face is so breathless and furrowing with every strained pleasure as you slide your thumb over his cocks slit. Whining so softly, sounding like the sweet nerd you remember. On the other hand, Miguel is witnessing you in a way only his mind had fantasized about. Your smile is no longer so sweet but devious; He wants to push his cock into you so deeply and have you shudder and scream while you gush all over him, But this teasing and taunting… it's mouth-watering.

Touching his length, you feel the sheer heat of it as you carefully trace over the soft skin, feeling every vein. Tracing over the red weeping tip, you feel him shudder and mumble something under his breath as you grasp him to hold against you, seeing that he measures to your stomach. You can't help but bite your lip in anticipation of the stretch.

Your eyes flick back to Miguels, “Think it will fit?” you tease.

“I will make it fit…” his rough voice sends a shiver down your spine.

Lifting to your knees, you line up his tip to brush on your clit, making you gasp as you slip him through your folds. Then finally, you slip him in slowly, feeling his cock stretch your fluttering hole; the stretch is intense and makes you roll your eyes as your back arches. Miguel grabs your ass tightly, bucking his hips to sink in a bit faster; he pants a sorry as you let out a moan and squeeze your hands on his chest for support. Looking down at his beautifully blushing face, you only smile as you sink deeper.

“So eager, Miggy~”

All Miguel can manage is a smile as he works hard to keep himself from bottoming out immediately. He so badly just wants to shove it in deeply and rut into you like a damn animal. A groan builds in his throat as he tries to keep himself from whimpering as you continue to sink so slowly. His cock throbbing and stretching your walls as it heats your insides. Before he can manage a whine, you sink all the way down, taking every inch; before either of you can moan, you lean down to catch his lips in a needy kiss, taking control you guide him, your tongue pushes past his lips to taste his groans. While his tongue eagerly does the same. Pulling away from the kiss, you grind against him, relishing in the feeling of his cock pushing in deeper and his trimmed hairs tickling your sensitive skin; you can’t help but bite his bottom lip to compensate for the mind-numbing feeling.

Miguel's hands squeeze harder, making you release his lip as your cunt to clenchs on him, the moan of his name dropping from your lips as your hips start to grind on him at a slow pace. Using your hands, you slightly push yourself up and rock your hips back and forth, letting his cock slide to bully your gummy insides, brushing your cervix with every nudge. Miguels is mesmerized as he roams his hands over your body, worshiping every inch of your skin with his careful fingertips brushing and rubbing you so tenderly. His hands come to your breast, where he takes a minute to squeeze and pinch your nipples, your whimper in response, and grind harder against his cock, pushing him to rub harder against your cervix.

“You look s-so fucking beautiful…your body, your…tatse…I’ve never stopped thi-thinking of you…” Miguel mutters through pants of hot breaths.

The words spur you on, and you start to pick up your pace, making him moan out and guide your hips to rock back and forth faster, “Always so sweet…” you coo to him…the words are less taunting but just true; he has always been sweet to you…

“Only for you…” he muses, and you can’t help but smile,

“Good…”

You feel yourself starting to sip from having a clear head that's now blurring in a haze of lust as you continue to pursue your pleasure on his girth. Pushing in and out on him quicker. Your hands grab onto him tighter as you ravish your tight pussy with his throbbing cock. Begging for both his and your release. Fucking so deep in you, now your jaw falls slack as his cock keeps pushing against your velvety sweet spot, making jolts of pleasure pulse through your body with every bounce.

The sweat that has built on your bodies works hard to try and cool your fevered states, but with every push into your cunt and with every clench around his length rousing him to go deeper makes it all in vain. There is no cooling as you two approach your white hot release, bodies only growing more hot and sensitive with every whine and every mind-numbing push. So close to tipping the other to ecstasy…

With a couple of aided thrust from Miguel fucking up into you, your muscles tenase and your mouth falls open in a pitched scream of his name as your danm burst making you clench and shudder on his cock, coming undone on top of him. You're quivering on his length as he carefully grinds you through your drenching pleasure, the feeling of his cock slipping deeper as you eagerly ride him through your high.

With the way you clench so tightly and grind faster, Miguel couldn't help but feel himself throb and spurt right into your cervix. The feeling of it spurting so thickly, his cock pulsing inside of you, feeling so heavy in you with each twitch. This cum is hot and fills you so that it's leaking down mixing with your arousal, creating a sticky mess. You can't help yourself when you side on more and more feeling your cunt want to stick to his skin.

Haze starting to clear you fall forward on him, you try to catch your breath in between placing frantic kisses to Miguel's chest and neck. Your orgasm leaves you utterly satisfied, but Miguels is not done…

With a quick turning over your body, you're lying on your back now as Miguel situates himself between your legs. He takes time to look over your flushed form, his massive hands dragging over your sensitive body, and you shiver and buck your hips up. Miguel takes your legs, pushing them up to your chest, making your mew from his touch, your pussy completely exposed to him. Miguel feels his breath catch as his cum leaks out of your trembling puffy cunt in milky drops. Miguel releases one of your legs to fall to his shoulder so he can plam his cock, still erect and ready for more. His red eyes flick back to your blisted-out face, and though you're at the point of overstimulation, you still ache for more.

“M-Miggy…” you're the one to tremble shyly for him now, and the switch of the roles makes him fold. He’s helpless for you…

Leaning down carefully, Miguel cages you between his massive arms as he places a gentle, sweet kiss on your begging lips. Breaking the kiss, he whispers in your ear so softly, “More? Can you give me more? Perfect girl…let me feel you again…please…”

Wrapping your arms around his neck, feeling his damp skin, you buck your hips up in your whine of, “More, Please, Miggy ah—I need more of you, always. You are so good to me.”

He catches your hips in a quick grip as he lifts them up, smiling; it's everything he has ever wanted to hear from your sweet lips. And he is always eager to satisfy you.

Miguel slips his cock into you with a groan; you're already so sensitive as he pushes down to the base, filling you so quickly that your body already starts quivering around him. Pressing soft kisses to your sweaty skin, he rolls his hips slow and deep. He is taking his time with you. Every thrust is hot and tingling, and you feel that familiar tense starting to build up again from the consistent pace he's set. Managing to open your eyes through moans and rolls, you see Miguel with beautifully flushed cheeks, eyes filled with want as he softly pants and whimpers with each clench of your wet cunt.

As his pace quickens, you feel him throb, giving you new resolve to meet your hips with each thrust, and your core starts to burn deliciously. Your nails find their place, digging into his broad back. Every slap of his balls to your overly sensitive skin makes you moan and throw your head back. Miguel takes the opportunity to kiss and lick against your neck, his hot breath rushing over you. With a final clench and strained moan, you feel that white-hot wave of pleasure burn through you; his body shudders at the feeling of your cunt, so desperate to cum against him to milk him dry again. His groan borders on a whine as his hips are still, and you feel that familiar throbbing against your cervix as his thick cum fills you up. Looking up at him, you watch his face contort to be in complete pleasure; the sight of it is completely addicting.

Staying in you till you are both down from your highs, he slowly pulls out his softening cock. The pooling of both of your cum completely ruins the sheets underneath you, but Miguel doesn’t worry about that. He brushes stray hairs from your face and whispers he will be right back. You're too exhausted to move, and you can only twitch slightly as you feel a cool cloth cleaning you up so gently.

After cleaning you up, you feel the bed sink beside you and the feeling of an arm around you, bringing you closer to his warm body, his other hand brushing through your hair so carefully. You gather your energy to curl into Miguel with a broad smile. You two lay there, slowly drifting away in each other's comfort.

Clearing his throat, Miguel tries to be as unawkward as possible, and it only manages to make you smile more; you two just had amazing sex, and he’s still nervous; some things die hard, you guess. Looking up at him, you see he’s trying to gather up the best way to approach his next words; this night has been everything he hoped, and he doesn’t want to blow it now, but he needs to know the answer to his question,

“Can-can I…take you out on a date?”

His face is completely sincere and flushed; you have to bite back your giggle before you answer.

“Miggy, about time you asked…”

You two set the date up for the next night; Miguel, of course, wore his glasses…

2K notes · View notes

byuntrash101 · 20 days

Text

𖤐 𝕯𝖆𝖒𝖓𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 𝖔𝖋 𝖆 𝕾𝖆𝖎𝖓𝖙 𖤐

pairing — fem!nun!reader x sin of lust!seonghwa ft. ateez as the other sins

rating — smut | mdni

wc — 13.7k

synopsis — life is dull when you are an immortal being such as seonghwa. every day is the same and you live (or rather, merely exist) through the times crushed by the burden of boredom. until something new comes along in the form of a kind, compassionate and righteous newly ordained nun. and so the sin of lust makes it his personal mission to corrupt the purest of souls: yours.

nsfw tags under the cut

tags — *strap up babes this is a wild one*, a tad of plot, my attempt at humor, heavy religious/blasphemous themes (don't read if you're uncomfy <3), inclusive writing (reader is not physically described), also reader is the embodiment of purity, 20240127 hwa (moodboard here), kinda slow burn kinda vibes, so much tensionnn, mentions of a pxrn magazine, sooo much teasing, hot make out sesh, dom!hwa, also very sly demon!hwa, virgin!reader, supernatural sex, corruption kink (obviously), masturbation (f), oral (f), the (un)holy trinity =teasing, begging, mind breaking), thigh riding, nipple play, clit play, some light impact play (kitty slaps + 1 face slap), breath play, hair pulling, fingering (f), monster cock!hwa, size training, pet names (angel, love, darling, sweetheart), praising, degradation (slut, whore), unprotected sex (don’t recommend), denied and ruined orgasm (f), dumbification, multiple orgasms (f), overstim, an ungodly amount of cum, cumflation, lil breeding kink at the very end

playlist — me and the devil by soap&skin, unholy by sam smith, going to hell by the pretty reckless, smells blood by kensuke ushio, american horror show by snow wife, toc toc toc by zazie

ateez masterlist | navigation

a/n: i had an absolute blast working over my fave fic ever posted. i love it even more now <3

also wanted to say a special thank you to @hwaightme who really helped me pulled through with one <3 ily bai <3333

Seonghwa was bored out of his mind. Like he had been for decades now, even centuries. He couldn’t remember what it was like to feel… well… anything at all really. And after years upon years of vegetating he didn’t care enough to even try anymore. He just laid there, endlessly staring blankly at the emptiness. He tapped his slender finger on his thigh, comfortably set on the bed of dark purple smoke he had materialized out of thin air.

He let out an audible annoyed groan as he was nonchalantly stretching out his long limbs which didn’t fail to catch the attention of the others.

“What’s wrong?” Yeosang asked as he was feasting on some delicious meal he poofed out magically. He didn’t even take a second to look up the bucket full of chicken drumsticks, wrapping his greasy fingers around the bone and eyeing the meat like one would their life long partner. But then again, that wasn’t too far from the truth for Yeosang.

“I’m bored” Seonghwa complained, pushing his long silky black hair back on his forehead and choosing to ignore Yeosang’s lack of interest, dragging out the word on his tongue, transmitting his state of utter apathy to the others.

“Why don’t you go up and play with the Humans?” Mingi suggested while checking himself out in the mirror, readjusting his bangs and sliding his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose before striking a pose to himself, remaining completely self absorbed.

Once again, Seonghwa wasn’t getting much attention from his counterparts but he was somewhat used to it when it came to Mingi.

“What’s the point? They are no fun anyways!” Seonghwa sat up straight and crossed his long elegant legs on the cloud of cotton like smoke.

“Why?” Jongho asked, unlike the others he deigned looking in Seonghwa’s direction with somewhat surprised eyes. “You used to love going around and breaking up happy marriages, luring men and women in with your charms… That was always fun!” He said a little sluggishly, but still with as much enthusiasm as he could muster.

“Yeah… Maybe it was…” Seonghwa replied. “Two millenniums ago…” Another prolonged sigh. “When everything still felt fresh.” He got up from the comfortable cloud of smoke, pacing the endless void as his heels clacked and echoed with each step. “Now I know that Humans are only self centered vile creatures who only claim to have better morals than us because they are scared of the consequences that inevitably ensue from succumbing to their primal desires. When in fact, all they want is to eat, kill, have sex or not do anything at all. They are nothing short of underdeveloped, unevolved, spineless piles of meat”

“Meat? Where?” Yeosang said, finally lifting his head from the bucket of fried chicken to look around, eyes rounded in panic.

Not a single one of them reacted except Mingi who side eyed him with disdain before returning to more important matters at hand such as swapping the aviator sunglasses for narrower, more rectangular ones.

“That’s not entirely false” Jongho concluded, shrugging, easily giving up on the idea of comforting Seonghwa.

“I mean where’s the fun if you can’t break their minds to give in?” Seonghwa placed both hands on Jongho's shoulders, slightly shaking him while the latter lifelessly swayed back and forth. “What is the point if they don’t resist the call of evil? If you can’t erode their will like a rock made smooth by the incessant beating of the waves of the cruel sea.” Seonghwa huffed in a quiet, defeated voice, letting go of Jongho's shoulders to let his arms hang at his side while the other one stared at him blankly.

“Hm… okay” Jongho said before slipping off Seonghwa's reach to take his place on the fluffy bed of purple smoke, crashing head first onto the soft cloud.

A silence settled for what seemed like a long moment, even for them, immutable creatures to whom the very concept of time couldn't grasp at their permanence.

“Well you never tried with that girl…” Wooyoung said, slithering his way to Seonghwa without a sound. He had been watching the scene unfold from afar up until then. “What was her name already?” He snapped his fingers and looked to the side trying to access his memory. He turned to Mingi for help but he was too busy looking through the mirror, slipping on yet another dangling necklace and smirking, satisfied at the results. Wooyoung then tried his luck with Yeosang but he now had his face buried in a huge bowl of chicken broth, the empty bucket of fried chicken abandoned and slurping up a big mouthful of noodles in a rather unpleasant way. “Jongho?” he called, finally settling for the one that looked almost passed out on the bed of smoke, but still this one wielded the most positive result.

“Y/n” Jongho responded without conviction, still laying flat on the cloud of smoke, eyes growing heavier by the second.

“Yeah! That’s right!” Wooyoung exclaimed. “That girl is unbreakable,” he affirmed. Seonghwa scoffed and threw an unconvinced look to his peer.

“No really! I’ve tried to corrupt her but I really couldn’t”. Wooyoung said, raising his brows and talking loudly to support his point. But that did little to persuade Seonghwa, he was convinced that Wooyoung was just not as good as him at breaking the mortals’ souls. So yes, it was possible that Wooyoung had struggled with that girl. But not him, surely not him.

When Wooyoung saw Seonghwa was not budging his face dropped, and he turned to the others. “Please someone back me up on this one”

“Oh yeaaah… I remember her” Yeosang said, voice cut by various sounds of loud lips smacking and open mouth chewing. “Even I tried!”

Now, that was different. Seonghwa was interested. Most people are quick to indulge themselves when it comes to food. It was, so to speak, the easiest sin of the seven to succumb to. The Humans often say “there’s always room for dessert” and innocently eat a generous slice of cake after devouring a full meal. They don’t even notice Yeosang forcing the big spoon full of buttery sugary goodness into their mouths. They don’t even know Yeosang, himself, made this saying.

“She refused to even do as much as taste the delicious meal I made her sister cook for her even though she was starving… instead she gave it to the homeless man living not far from her apartment.” Yeosang stated with aberration shaking his head in disappointment before plunging right back in the ramyeon bowl.

“Hmmm” Seonghwa scratched his chin, his curiosity for the mysterious righteous girl was piqued.

“One day I tried to make her give in” Jongho chipped in from the dark purple smoke bed, even pushing himself on his elbows to look at the others, to Seonghwa’s surprise. “Made her miss the train and the bus she needed to take to get home after work and conveniently laid a juicy wallet stuffed full of even juicier bills in the gutter. All she had to do was to bend down and get the money to take a taxi to her apartment. But instead she took the money and walked to the police station to report the lost wallet, which was in the opposite direction by the way and then walked back home only to take a shower and leave right after to attend the charity soup kitchen. Anddd… Explaining this made me tired. Please don't talk to me for the next two hundred years, thank you.” Jongho concluded in one single breath before laying back down and turning on his side to nap comfortably.

“Maybe that one can be interesting after all” Seonghwa thought aloud, his pretty face taking on a pensive frown, his sharp brows joining on his forehead.

“Yeah no kidding” Wooyoung added. “And you don’t know the best part yet…” A perfidious and sly smile pulled on his handsome features. “She was just ordained nun.”

Seonghwa’s face turned serious as his eyes snapped back to Wooyoung. All of a sudden the girl went from distraction of the day to possibly the ultimate challenge of corruption Seonghwa has been waiting for god knows how long (and he surely did not use the expression lightly).

“Don’t mess with me, Envy!” Seonghwa spat, suddenly calling Wooyoung by his biblical name, testifying the gravity of his statement.

“I’m not kidding, Lust” Wooyoung mocked Seonghwa’s serious tone by also using his sin name. “She decided the life of material things wasn’t the way to happiness so she devoted herself to a humbler one, gifting her time and belongings to the poor and destitutes while she devoted her body to God. God only…” Wooyoung said, feigning nonchalance while he snaked an arm around Seonghwa’s shoulders. “Look… Here she is” he purred in his neck.

With a flick of his wrist, green smoke emanated from thin air and formed a pierced circle where in the middle the reflection of a girl could be seen. She was quiet, in the very humble room, a single window shone down onto the bed as she knelt at its side, palms joined, retreated into silent prayers.

She’s perfect.

That was Seonghwa’s first thought as an obscene smirk tugged at his mouth, his tongue swiping across his lips making them shiny and wet. He eyed the girl kneeling by the bed as he lowered his chin, one strand of hair falling over the piercing siren eyes. The black and white uniform she was wearing, the habit, couldn’t fool the seasoned eyes of Seonghwa. All the fabric in the world couldn’t hide away the glorious curves of her body, the beautiful arch of her back leading to the roundness of her bottom gently resting on her heels. The holy swells of her chest softly lifting the thick black material of the habit and the simple wooden cross held by humble twine she was wearing around her neck.

Divine.

Was what described her best.

“She’s stunning,” Seonghwa huffed in a soft murmur, mesmerized and captivated by the image Wooyoung was showing him. And he smirked in victory, relishing on the way he had convinced his peer, once again living up to his name and very nature.

“Yeah I know.” Mingi said, finally turning his face away from his reflection to address Seonghwa. “I thought with such a pretty face she’d be easy to convince that she’s above everyone else and just make her a pretentious too-far-up-her-own-ass bitch. But I quickly realized she was a lost cause” he concluded, shrugging and stepping away from the mirror, sitting down next to Jongho, already fast asleep only to materialize another handheld mirror. seconds later.

“Yes…” Seonghwa spoke softly as he stared intensely at the girl. “She just might do.”

***

You were on cleaning duty at the church today after the mass. Even if the church was quite big it didn’t intimidate you. You settled the two buckets of warm soapy water and your floor cloth before tying your hair up in a rather unaesthetic but very practical hairdo and stretched your shoulders before giving yourself a determined little nod.

You started with scrubbing the ancient cobblestone of the old church with soap and a lot of elbow grease. Then you immediately followed up with dusting the chairs, the altar and the numerous effigies.

You diligently washed, dusted, scrubbed, cleaned, polished, until everything was neat and right. Simply happy and content with the idea of being useful to the community. The rhythmic sounds of your hard bristle brush against the pavements were setting the pace of the silence which helped you connect to the spiritual nature of the ancient place of worship.

But as you were tidying the confessional booth you noticed a small piece of colorful paper peeking from underneath the bench lined with worn burgundy red velvet. When your hands reached under the seat and hazardly caught the object you knew it was a magazine from the glossy feeling of the paper underneath your fingertips and when you finally let your eyes fall on it you realized the nature of the magazine.

Porn. A pornographic magazine.

The cover displayed several nude women adopting very suggestive poses, one of them even dangerously leaning her face towards the intimate parts of another one.

The obscene imagery made your heart race and you started to feel dizzy. You sat yourself on the bench and rested the lewd magazine in your lap. You took a deep breath and, very slowly, parted the red curtains to make sure you were alone in the church. Then you opened the magazine and flipped the cover page.

“Oh my… Look at that! She is flipping the pages!” Yeosang exclaimed.

“Oh she’s definitely curious about it,” Mingi laughed, his lips stretching into a satisfied half smile. But Seonghwa was more cautious, he refused to believe it just yet. Something about your body language was not right.

“Shhh” he shushed the others and motioned for them to keep looking through the green smoke.

As your fingers glided across each page. You felt hot in the face with each scene more obscene than the last one, tension building in your neck.

Seonghwa didn’t lose sight of you for a second, his lips curling on his teeth in a vicious smile as your trembling fingers went over every single page, your wide open eyes darting to every corner of each page. He could almost hear your heart thumping in your chest he could almost taste the adrenaline in your blood.

When you came to the end of it and closed out the magazine you sighed, letting your shoulders drop, closing your eyes in relief.

“Well…” you started “nobody left their name in it” you said to yourself, completely unaware the demons were spying on your every move. Not that you expected that anybody would leave their signature in such a piece of literature but still you had to at least try to find the rightful owner before taking actions.

A loud complaint erupted from the demons. All in disbelief. You looked at the magazine, true. But it was not for an impure purpose. It was only in the hopes of finding the name of the true owner and hopefully, returning it back to them. You had no interest in the salacious scenes presented in the glossy pages. The rushing blood to your cheeks wasn’t due to any feeling of arousal or libidinousness. It was only the shame of invading someone’s privacy.

Once again your intentions were completely commendable. Immaculate.

As the demons protested and complained, Seonghwa, on the other hand, stayed completely silent as he watched you bring the magazine to a trash bin without an ounce of regret. He wasn’t disappointed, he was excited. He felt excitement. A feeling so distant and faded that it felt foreign. Seonghwa had forgotten all about this thrill. He didn’t remember how tingles tickled the tip of his cold fingers or how his guts swirled around in frenzy. This feeling was joy. Pure joy. Sweet intoxicating euphoria. And it was all thanks to you.

“I’m gonna have so much fun with you” he whispered to you, as if you could hear him, his eyes glued to the reflection in the pierced circle of deep green smoke, he whispered to the image of the unsuspecting girl discarding the impure magazine. A paltry, too poor of a stratagem to have you yield to the darkness. You, the pious and saintly nun.

***

You never really liked cooking, before you joined the covenant your sister was always the one in the kitchen preparing delicious home cooked meals for the family. But what you did like on the other hand was helping. Usually you cleaned up the kitchen but when your sister was running out of time she would ask you to peel the vegetables or cut them. So naturally cutting the vegetables was not your favorite task around the convent. You liked cleaning and tidying up better. Only because you were more on the active side and you liked how cleaning would make you break up a sweat when the whole monastery needed a dust off but nonetheless what you liked most was to help the community. And knowing the soup you were cooking up with the help of two of your sisters was going to feed everyone was a fulfilling feeling. Well enough to make you happy.

So you were contemplating life cutting off the homegrown zucchinis when Sister Chaeyoung started to giggle. You didn’t pay much attention until Sister Nayeon started to snicker along with her.

You lift your eyes up and the both of them instantly stiffened up and started to act suspicious.

“What are you laughing about you two?” you asked, an amused smile playing on your lips.

“Oh nothing” Nayeon said, hiding something behind her back.

“Come on, I want to laugh too” you said, the smile spreading further on your face, lifting up your cheeks adorably.

You three were the youngest in the convent so you did many duties together, you grew quite close with the girls.

Chaeyoung ripped something from Nayeon’s hand and proudly showed it to you.

“Look at this carrot” she said, puffing an adorable laugh.

It was true the carrot had quite the… interesting shape. First of all it was quite large, abnormally thick for a simple carrot. Homegrown vegetables were never like the perfectly shaped ones you could find at the store and it was definitely the case for this one. It had a slight upward curve and the extremity had a very distinctive shape. It was phallic.

You delicately took the vegetable from the hands of Chaeyoung to examine the orange root closely.

It was almost unnatural how close the resemblance was, like it couldn’t be due to fortuity… The thick tip, the robust and curved upright shaft, the asperities reminiscent of the blood engorged veins, even the small slit at the top… The details were impressive.

“Look look” Mingi exclaimed, nudging Seonghwa in the ribs as he observed you through the green fog. “She looks interested. I think she’s done this time”. He declared self-assured, cocking a single eyebrow. But Seonghwa remained completely silent but a smirk pulled on his lips when he noticed how you were eyeing the forbidden vegetable (no pun intended), how your throat seemed to thickly swallow and how your lip slightly trembled.

It felt so empowering, finally getting to chip away at your strong willed spirit, finally getting lust to creep under your skin. For these long seconds of contemplation, Seonghwa could only imagine the wicked places your mind raced to. But right when he was about to open his mouth and declare victory. You laughed.

Seonghwa’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as this laugh ripped through him, like a dagger through the skin.

You laughed so openly, your head hung back, eyes creased. The laugh was like the rest of you, joyful, clear and pure.

You are only amused by such a coincidence. Nothing more, nothing less. Of course it was funny and you were never the stuck up kind and it felt right to have a bit of lighthearted fun with your younger sisters.

“I guess she’s only laughing at your stupid tricks,” Wooyoung said, his sly smirk mocking Seonghwa’s failure.

“Fuck off Wooyoung” Seonghwa spat as he watched the scene unfold.

The three of you just laughed, enjoying this bonding moment together while the stricter, older sisters and the Mother Superior weren’t there to dim down your childish and silly amusement. It was just some playful, innocent humor to you.

Nothing to shake your faith or virtue.

“Now let’s finish up the soup, girls” you said, setting the amusing carrot on the cutting board. Before chopping it up and tossing the pieces in the big pot.

“Maybe we should have kept it” Chaeyoung whispered with pouty lips. “It could have been useful.”

“Don’t be silly,” you replied with a smile.

Seonghwa felt anger bubbling up in his stomach and rushing through his veins to burn down his chest and neck. As much as he hated to admit it… Wooyoung was right, these stupid tricks were no match for the unwavering righteousness of your mind. These would certainly suffice if it was any other soul but not yours. Not you.

So Seonghwa resolved to resort to drastic measures. Something he hasn’t done for centuries. But something necessary. This anger he felt, the deception upon failing once again. He hadn’t felt that in so long, he felt alive finally. It was ironic how an immortal soul would forget how to feel alive for the simple reason that nothing is a threat to their existence. Their presence is immutable, infinite, certain. Therefore unexciting, monotonous and lifeless.

The negative feelings reminded Seonghwa of a purpose he once had, they reminded him of the stakes that used to be. In a way you reminded Seonghwa what it felt like to feel. You reminded him what it meant to be alive. Him, the unholy and vile Sin of Lust.

***

“You cannot be serious,” Hongjoong exclaimed, rubbing the deep crease between his eyebrows, this conversation was starting to give the Guardian of the Gate a headache.

“I am most certainly serious,” Seonghwa assured. “Now is the best time.”

“Why?” Hongjoong asked. “I’m sorry but I can’t let you through unless you give me a solid explanation.”

“Come on Joongie~” Seonghwa said innocently smiling at him leaning on the smaller man in front of him, wrapping his arms around his waist and tilting his head adorably. “You and I go way back, right?”

“Your ways have no power against me, Lust. You know that.” Hongjoong just looked at him scornfully. “Now if you don’t tell me your plan I’ll shut the gates for the next century.”

“What has this place come to? We used to be able to go and play with humans all day and not get questioned,'' Seonghwa complained, throwing his hands in the air and slipping away from Hongjoong. But the latter didn’t budge. “Fine” Seonghwa spat.

“You see my dear friend, today she’s ovulating. Her body is most likely to respond to the primitive instinct of the survival of the species. Meaning that her spirit is most likely to be weaker.” Seonghwa explained his reasoning.

“But how do you plan on actually interacting with her? You know you won’t be able to have physical contact, you'll go through her like a ghost. Unless she summons you. And I don’t see how or even why she would call your name three times” Wooyoung pointed out, as he was watching the feud from afar.

“I know that I’m not stupid” Seonghwa said with an eyeroll and a sigh. “I won’t need to touch her to break her” he assured.

“But how if she can’t even see you?” Hongjoong yelled, ready to pluck the hair out of his head. Seonghwa was about to become the Guardian's breaking point.

“Hey relax, okay” Seonghwa said, slipping behind the man and gently pinching the muscles of his shoulders. “You are starting to look like San.”

“What did you say about me? “ San yelled from across the empty space, interrupting his card game with Yunho.

“Just play” Yunho instructed with a monotonous fed up tone, pointing his chin towards the deck of cards.

“This game is stupid anyways!!” San screamed before flipping the table over in a loud grunt as the cards flew everywhere, floating gracefully to the ground. Yunho sighed deeply.

“He always does this…” he whispered to himself, getting off the chair and walking to Hongjoong and Seonghwa as Jongho was peacefully snoring close by.

“How can he sleep through this?” Yeosang looked at Jongho in disbelief, as he was stuffing more cheesecake into his mouth. Yunho scoffed.

“How can you eat through this?” Yunho underlined and Yeosang just shrugged before smiling with his mouth still full, earning disgusted grunts and complaints from the others.

“Can we focus for one minute here?” Hongjoong interrupted, desperately trying to get back on track. “How are you going to corrupt her if she can’t see you?”

“Oh but she will see me” Seonghwa smirked.

“Not in the monastery she won’t, not on sacred ground” Wooyoung mocked his overly confident tone.

“It’s true, you know” Yunho chipped in, putting his large palm on Seonghwa’s shoulder. “I can’t believe I’m about to say that but… I think you’re being greedy” Yunho concluded, as Seonghwa whipped his head to him.

“Wow… That’s so out of character for you.”

“Well that should speak volumes about the foolishness of your plan” Yunho shrugged, taking his hand back.

“It’s not foolish because she will see me. For the simple reason that she will invite me in” Seonghwa’s smirk grew wider as silence settled in the unholy space between hell and earth. Wooyoung laughed hysterically, holding his ribs as he wiped off a tear in the corner of his eyes.

“And how will you manage that?” Hongjoong asked with a raised, unimpressed eyebrow.

Just then a chiming sound could be heard in the emptiness. Seonghwa fished out of his pocket a small human device. All in the room looked incredulous As Seonghwa smirked at the small screen illuminating his pretty face.

“Since when did you-” Hongjoong started but Seonghwa simply brought his long pointer finger to his lips and shushed him.

“She’s waiting for me”

***

“A disaster” Mother superior exclaimed as she threw her arms at her side, looking at the flooded basement. “We cannot go to the retreat and leave until the problem is fixed. The humidity can damage the foundations of the monastery. “I’ll stay and sort it out.”

The sisters all let out frustrated sighs.

“You should go Mother” you stepped in. “The sisters need you at the retreat as well as the faithful… I’ll stay and get things in order. You can count on me” you said with a determined nod and a smile, tightly holding the wooden cross on your chest.

As much as you wanted to go. Someone needed to stay, that much was undeniable and the wisdom of the Mother Superior was needed at Lourdes. So it wasn’t without a little sting at the heart that you waved goodbye to a bus full of your friends, your sisters.

You went back in and sighed at the mess. The ancient timber beams were slowly soaking up the stagnant water, the old stones of the walls were being eroded and the humidity was not good news for the cheeses you were maturing, not even mentioning the ruined mushrooms you were about to harvest before the disaster. Of course the boiler was old and rustic but Mother Superior always made sure it was checked annually and repaired when it was needed before any damage could be done. But even the most diligent measures sometimes can’t prevent the unforeseeable hazards of life.

You went back up and searched for a plumber in the local newspaper. Luckily there was an ad for one that was living in town.

Park, plumbing/heating engineering at your service, the flashy ad read.

You looked at the time, it was late afternoon, probably a little too late to take up a new job, but you figured there was still hope he could at least pick up the phone and maybe appoint a day to come have a look at the leakage. You didn’t waste anymore time and dialed the phone number in the ancient and only phone located in the Mother Superior’s office.

As the tone rang you suddenly got nervous. Ever since you joined the convent you didn’t interact much with the outside world except the followers coming to church or the people you were helping. So this upcoming conversation was making you agitated.

“Hello, Park, plumbing and heating engineer, how can I help you?” You are surprised by the voice at the end of the line. You never expected such a smooth, melodic voice to pick up the phone.

“H-Hi! I’m Sister y/n from the Monastery of the Sacred Mission, our basement flooded, we think the boiler possibly needs to be replaced. Is it possible for you to come take a look?”

“Oh! Sorry to hear that. I’m guessing much damage has been done…” his concerned tone somewhat eased your nerves.

“Unfortunately yes”

“I see… I can come right now”

“Really?” you blinked your eyes twice in surprise. “Well that would be marvelous” you said cheerfully “but wouldn’t you be working past hours? I fear there’s quite a lot of work” you ask concerned.

“It’s okay. You help others so much. Now it’s my time to help you” his tone changed, a subtle switch you can’t put into words but the difference sent a shiver down your spine.

“Thank you”

***

“Thank you so much for coming this quickly” you thanked the man as he stood in the impressive frame of the heavy convent door.

You took a step aside to let him in but he just stood before the front steps not moving an inch. You threw him a puzzled look but he just stared back blankly at you. There was a moment of hesitation on his behalf that left you quite perplexed.

“Please come in” you hesitantly said while amicably smiling at the man.

“Thank you” he simply responded, almost sounding relieved.

As soon as he stepped foot in the door frame you felt a cold breeze run on your neck under the habit and shivers run down your spine. Autumn was indeed well advanced now but such cold winds were usually never felt before winter. Of course, you made little of a simple gust of wind.

“Hi. I’m Sister y/n. Nice to meet you” you stuck your hand out to him. He looked down at it and fumbled with the tool boxes but opted for a polite nod instead of a handshake.

“Sorry, I’ve been working all day and my hands are dirty” he laughed nervously “and the name is Seonghwa” he flashed the brightest smile you have ever seen. For a second your heart skipped a beat and a foreign feeling blossomed in your chest. You never expected this unknown plumber to be this handsome.

He had long and shiny raven black hair perfectly framing his face and just as healthy thick eyebrows complimenting the dark, round and benevolent eyes, reminiscent of boba pearls. A long elegant neck, a defined jawline, high cheekbones and tanned olive glossy skin.

His body was cladded in an unbuttoned navy blue overall that let peek out a simple white t-shirt underneath. You could tell the outfit had undergone various difficult jobs as the fabric was thinned out at his knees and had various stains of paints and plaster.

He looked like a kind man. Like the kind of person you would give communion to without confession. The kind of person that just has a good heart. It was that kind of reassuring and warm aura that you felt from him, something that put you at ease right away.

You led him to the faulty boiler.

Right away he got on one knee and started to inspect the recalcitrant piece of machinery.

“Well I’ll leave you to work on your own” you said as you retreated to take your leave. Seonghwa only politely nodded and smiled in your direction before turning his attention back to the problem.

While the plumber was working you put your time to good use and organized the paperwork of the Mother superior. Doing such work was always tedious for her because she wasn’t exactly the organized kind of woman but you were. You knew doing that you would be of great help. Since the task was quite large, it took quite a long time and it’s only when your stomach emitted a loud grumble that you realized the evening was well advanced.

You figured Mr. Park was hungry or at the very least thirsty after working for so long. So you grabbed a metal tray and brought him a set of the specialty sugar cookies the convent was selling along with a generous serving of cold water embellished with a dash of freshly squeezed lemon juice to make sure Mr. Park’s thirst would be thoroughly quenched.

When you passed the archway that was leading to the boiler room your heart nearly stopped beating when your eyes met the working man.

Swiftly you spinned on your feet and hid behind the wall, only peeking an eye out the corner to still be able to witness the novel scene taking place in front of you.

Seonghwa had tightened the sleeves of his blue overalls around his waist and was wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand, clearly the labor was not restful. You couldn’t tell if it was from sweat or from the leaking water but his white t-shirt was wet and sticking to his skin, making the fabric lightly translucid. You could guess the dark pinkish color of his nipples and the outline of his well built body underneath. The short sleeves of his t-shirt were rolled up and were tightly hugging his arms while his long fingers were wrapped around a wrench as each twist of his wrist was making the veins of his forearm bulge out.

You loudly gulped down a lump in your throat. Your hands tightly held onto the tray in fear of letting it fall to your feet.

But your misery was far from over because before you could realize it Seonghwa was pulling on his shirt and passing it over his head. Every muscle of his back moving around, contracting and relaxing in a beautiful dance, shining under the golden hour sun seeping through the small single window of the basement. Water and sweat was running down his back and at his flanks, when he turned around, your eyes dashed around his naked upper body. You couldn’t decide where to settle them. His collarbones, his pecs, his abs, the dent at the sides of his abdomen, his (very) low resting overalls…

Your heart was about to give out. You had seen male bodies before, never in real life that was true but you did once or twice on TV or on billboard ads of men’s underwear.

But, never, you felt something like that. That feeling. This tingly feeling budding in the low pit of your stomach, making your guts stir around, making your palms sweaty, making your heart helplessly hammer against your ribs, making your eyes widen as you couldn’t peel them off the naked wet skin of the handsome stranger. This feeling of immoral interest for another person’s body, this longing for somebody else’s touch.

This feeling of Lust.

It was completely foreign to you.

If it wasn’t for Seonghwa you would have chugged the whole carafe of lemony water by yourself because you never felt your throat as dry as it felt right now.

“Look! Look!” San shouted, wrapping a strong hand around Wooyoung’s forearm and making him wince in pain as they both stared at you through the green smoke. “Y/n is giving in!”

“Look at the way she’s staring at him!” Yeosang said, briefly reaching for a napkin to wipe his mouth.

“Wow” Yunho added “She definitely isn’t thinking about church-appropriate things”. Yunho laughed but Mingi scoffed.

“If she likes him, wait till I show my human form. I’m infinitely more good looking than him”

“Not everything’s about you, Mingi” Yunho scolded him.

With trembling hands you settled the metal tray onto the window sill. You poured a glass of water and presented it to Seonghwa.

“Here” you unexpectedly manage to keep your voice calm and steady. “I figured you might be thirsty or hungry.”

“Oh thanks” he said, wrapping his hand around the glass, carefully avoiding touching your hand in the process, probably trying not to get sweat and dirt smeared on you. “I just got done actually”

“Oh wonderful” you exclaimed, maybe a little louder than expected. Maybe eager to get rid of that immoral feeling that was awakened by his presence. Seonghwa cocked an eyebrow and gave you a puzzled look at the unexpected outburst of joy.

“Why? Are you impatient to throw me out?” he smirked, pushing his long and soaked hair back as he took a step closer, doe eyes narrowing, becoming sharp. You did your best to lock your eyes with his, not to let them wander down his still half naked body. Seonghwa didn’t make any effort to cover himself. Your heart seemed to be trying to break through your rib cage to get a chance to beat closer to Seonghwa’s chest.

“No, it’s just that…” you took a step back “you have been working for so long you must be wanting to go back to the comfort of your home” you quickly get back on your feet before smiling politely at him, trying to conceal your uneasiness.

“Why?” he asked tit for tat, taking a step closer again, siren eyes bored deep into yours, trying to lull you in. “No one is waiting for me at home.”

Seonghwa heard the faintest little gasp escape your lips and he knew you were shaken. You, the unwavering nun, the faithful saint. You were at last considering him. Contemplating giving in to the primal and lowly instinct of desire.

Seonghwa sensed it. He saw it in the way you hurriedly licked your dry bottom lip, he saw it in the way your eyes darted between his lips and his eyes, he saw it in the way you stopped backing away from him.

You, y/n, you were giving in to pure sensual need. No love, no sentiment involved. Only desire to feel a complete stranger’s body against yours, only pure, untainted lust.

If only he could touch you. If only he could, it would be so much easier to help you gently fall into the welcoming and serene arms of corruption. But he couldn’t and that was making the whole experiment that much more exciting. He had to use deceit and trickery. Like a siren numbing your mind with a beautiful song.

But if you gave the slightest hint of submitting, if you let your guard down and let him into your heart then he would have won and that was all that mattered. If you tilted your head and you puckered up your lips to kiss him, if you took a step towards him to press your body against his, if your lifted your hand to feel his wet, glistening skin under your fingers, if you did anything to welcome the unholy desire, if you opened yourself to lust, then touching you would have been unnecessary because Seonghwa would have won and you and God would have lost.

And victory was oh so close. So close when he was as near to you as he could. So close when he slowly approached his face to yours. So close when your heart was pumping scorching hot blood through your veins, so close when your mouth started to water, so close when your lips started to quiver, so close when your eyelid started to flutter but…

Again, you stepped back.

“WHAT?!” San shouted.

“No way!!” Yeosang added, staring at your unsuspecting reflection in the green smoke.

Seonghwa’s shoulder dropped along with the satisfied little smirk.

“Thank you for fixing the boiler this quickly, Mr Park” you said, averting your eyes, finally breaking the spell he had casted on you and peeling your eyes off him.

Seonghwa had cried victory too soon. He had counted the chicken eggs before they hatched, he had put the cart before the horse. In other words… he had underestimated you.

He underestimated your will, your faith and your unwavering sense of righteousness. The other Sins had warned him though but he didn’t listen. They told him it was impossible to bend you. All of them had tried before and none succeeded so it was undeniable now that Seonghwa was just going to join them in failure.

“Don’t worry about it” he smiled at you, disappointment peeking behind his shiny brown orbs.

Seonghwa had accepted defeat when you led him back to the door of the convent. He walked away but turned around half way only to see your still body standing straight in the doorframe, perfectly incarnating your strong, unbending mind.

You only politely smiled when you pushed the big heavy door with difficulty, finally closing it in with a loud thud.

“Fuck… I guess Seonghwa failed too…” Yunho stated as he watched you close the door. But Wooyoung looked at you with a knowing grin.

“I’m not so sure…” he said as the smirk tugged further at his lips.

***

When you finally escaped Seonghwa’s taunting eyes, you leaned your back on the sturdy door, your spirit drained, your mind exhausted. You closed your eyes to catch a breath but the only thing you could see was the working man’s godlike figure carved onto your retinas, the translucent white t-shirt clinging to his golden skin, the sweat dripping down his temples and wetting the beautiful long strands of black hair, the bulging veins of his forearms and the dents engraved at both side of his lower stomach. And the more you thought about it, the quicker your breathing got.

You were all alone here… Your sisters and Mother superior were all gone. What wrong could it cause if you gave in just this once? Not that much, right?…. Just this once.

With big strides you walked to the kitchen and handpicked a nicely shaped carrot, almost regretting not listening to Chaeyoung and keeping that other one.

But this one was going to do the trick. It was not too thick and just long enough to help you carry out your shameful business but not too big to actually taint you and strip you of the precious veil of chastity that you managed to keep intact all of these years.

You climbed up the stairs with haste, avoiding the marble eyes of the holy figures represented in the halls only to take refuge in your bedroom.

You slipped out of your shoes and laid on your bed. You didn’t even bother taking the habit off, it wasn’t going to take long anyway, you simply pulled it up.

When you slid off the white panties you realized how soaked you were. You couldn’t believe it. Your whole life you’ve never felt this way, the feeling was overwhelming and needed to be dealt with immediately. Yes, that was what you were doing simply ridding yourself of an impure feeling!

You whipped out the orange root and clumsily rubbed the thinner tip on yourself. The cold sensation took you aback and pulled a small gasp from your lips.

You coated the root with your juices and then you aimed it at your entrance. You slid the carrot inside, it was too thin to hurt in any way but it was well long enough. When you reached the bottom of yourself you couldn’t help but to let out a satisfied grunt at the sensation of the vegetable rubbing against your sensitive spot.

You pulled it back out and slid it back in, this time a little faster. Heat gained over your body as your eyes fluttered close and you recalled the unfairly handsome and devilishly sexy working man.

The muscles of his back, his long slender neck, his collarbones, his beautiful sun kissed skin.

“Aaah” you sigh. “Seonghwa” his name rolled off your tongue so naturally, almost like it was meant to be said like this.

His long and dark wet hair, his plush lips getting close to yours, his warm breath fanning your face.

“Seonghwa” you moaned again, more high pitched this time as your wrist was getting more and more reckless, each time deliciously scrubbing your walls in divine and forbidden pleasure.

The way he looked at you, the way his dark eyes were filled with the same desire you had for him. The way they spoke volumes about the sinful things he wanted to do to you. And God… did you almost let him have his way with you.

You started to clench around the root, each time you pulled it out your walls were eagerly gripping on it, refusing to let it go, so you smashed it back in with force to grant their wish. Your walls quivered around the vegetable, a foreign and unknown euphoria was taking over you and you knew you were done for.

“I’m… ngh… c-cumming” you whispered to yourself as you felt the tightness in your core reach a brand new level. “Seonghwa” you cried out one more time, being only a few back-and-forths away from your sweet release but alas you couldn’t pull it through.

Because without knowing, without realizing, completely unsuspecting, you called his name. You called his name three times. You summoned him.

Purple smoke started to erupt from the corner of the small dimly lit room by the late evening sun. With terror you ripped the vegetable out before you could finish and covered your modesty with the habit you were still wearing.

From the smoke appeared slick black leather chelsea boots resting under a pair of anthracite gray dress pants coated with a shiny silverish finish. As the smoke got thinner you could distinguish a matching cropped blazer with an asymmetrical and deconstructed silver vest underneath that was held together by one single button right under his neck, you could see the soft and glistening golden skin underneath. And finally when the smoke was completely gone you saw his face. The sharp features and the slender slithering body reminiscent of the one of a serpent, eyes just as sharp and presence just as menacing. A face you hadn't known for long but couldn't forget. Seonghwa’s face.

But he looked different. His long bangs weren’t framing his face anymore, instead he had tied the long wavy strands in a high half bun. His aura was also different from when he was wearing the blue and spotted overalls. Now cladded in the revealing ensemble he looked expensive, confident and sensual.

Your jaw practically dropped to the floor when your mind finally wrapped around the information your eyes were transmitting.

“Well well…” Seonghwa stepped closer while you jolted yourself up the bed, your body cornered between the headboard and the wall.

“What are you?” you whispered with trembling lips, heart pounding, adrenaline rushing through your veins, ready to flee if need be.

Seonghwa looked at you, puzzled for a second. Then he laughed, head tilting back. The laugh made the hair in your nape stand. It was unnatural, cold and fundamentally evil.

“Me?” he asked. Right then you felt your body being magically lifted from the soft mattress. You shrieked again, utterly confused while Seonghwa’s magic slammed you against the bare walls of the humble bedroom, the tip of your toes barely scraping the worn out wooden floor.

“Oh my, please pardon my awful manners,” he said in an overly polite tone. “I’m Seonghwa, Cardinal Sin of Lust” he said, bowing respectfully, elegantly bringing his right hand on his chest in a princely manner. “But for you, love…” Seonghwa stepped towards you, taking his time to look at you. He leaned on your ear to whisper.

“I’m a dream come true” his voice was deep, sultry, self-assured. Everything you’d imagine it to be.

A faint gasp escaped your lips as you felt his warm breath on your neck.

You wanted to scream to all heavens, you had brought a demon into the convent. You had desecrated the sacred ground of this place of worship, your home. You led the wolf to the sheeps. But you couldn’t scream, you couldn’t even if your life depended on it.

“W-what do you want?” you managed to push the few words past your teeth. Your voice, perfect opposite of the one of the demon: muted and trembling.

“Just want to finish my business with you” his face stayed right where it was, nestled in the crook of your neck. Lips so close you could feel the heat radiating from them but somehow they were still too far, unable to touch you.

“What business?” you whimpered.

“Darling.” Seonghwa clicked his tongue and shook his head in disapproval. “There’s no point in fighting anymore. Stop playing dumb with me. I know you’re a smart girl.” He took a deep breath, inhaling the sweet scent of your shampoo. “I already won, darling… that very second you decided to give in to the thought of me. That second you closed the big heavy door and thought you escaped my eyes. That very second I had won.” A wicked smirk pulled on his lips. But his words didn’t make any sense to you.

This languish was torture, this state of expectation, of suspense. This proximity. You wished it would just stop. Be it touching you for good or get away finally. Just as if he read your mind he got even closer. Now it wasn’t only his lips taunting the thin skin of your neck, it was his whole body, hovering over yours; but still… Not touching you.

“Sure winning felt good. But you know what feels even better, darling?” You couldn’t bring yourself to formulate words and only whimpered in response.

“I asked you a question, sweetheart” he grinned, relishing on your anguish, placing both of his palms at both sides of your face, trapping your frail figure between his arms and the wall.

“It’s to finally touch you.”

So he finally let himself take a deep dive into you. The plush warm lips crash onto your neck, giving wet sloppy open mouth kisses while you couldn’t help but to tilt your head back giving him more access.

“What a good girl you are” he purred, not taking the time to part his lips from you.

His left hand went to your chin and turned it to make you face him, without much hesitation he planted a wet kiss on your lips, your cute whimpers and gasps were the perfect opportunity to deepen the kiss.

The kiss got heated as Seonghwa pried your hesitant mouth open with his long thumb and pushed his tongue inside to breach your lips. His delicious taste spread through your mouth, making your head dizzy. He tasted like candy, like you just took a bite of the juiciest strawberry. Ripe, just in season, absolutely delicious.

You moaned into his mouth and he smirked as his grip around your chin got tighter, he lifted his knee to part your legs and his thigh rubbed against your center through the habit. You couldn’t help but to moan louder, the unsolicited pleasurable friction made you incapable of reciprocating the kiss, your dangling feet nervously giving small kicks in the air.

Seonghwa finally parted from you, allowing you to catch your breath. But he was far from done with you.

“I know you long for more than this, angel” he whistled while his hand went up your thigh, still clothed with the thick black fabric of the habit. “I know you languish for pleasure” his blunt nails went up your arm and you realized you were still holding onto the carrot. He ripped the root from your hand.

“You won’t need this anymore” he said before smashing the poor vegetable on the ground sending millions of orange pieces flying across the room, you flinched once more at the demonstration of strength.

“Mine is much bigger than this. But don’t worry, love, I’ll make you nice and ready for me” he purred before placing both of his strong hands on the habit and just like that with astonishing ease he rips through the black gown. But not only, everything covering you is ripped in two and that also goes for your bra that fell to the ground. With the deafening sound of the fabric ripping you found yourself completely naked in front of the demon apart from the veil on your hair and the rosary beads laying on your chest.

You flinched and your hands flew to cover your nude frame but Seonghwa once again laughed and you felt an irresistible magical force pin your wrists at each side of your face. You sniveled and squirmed trying your hardest to go against the invisible force to hide away from the avid eyes of the demon.

“How cute.” The demon snickered when you failed to fight back. “Sweetheart, you don’t get to hide anything when you look this good” he said in a breath, eyes darting over your naked figure. From your dangling feet, to your thighs tightly pressed together, to your flushed face and to the Rosary beads sitting between your gorgeous breasts, swaying every time you kept trying to break away from the spell pinning you against the wall.

He brought a cold hand to the side of your breast, you couldn’t help but to moan as you felt his soft hand against you, his finger suddenly pinching your sensitive and hardened nipples. You let out a high pitched whimper.

“So sensitive” Seonghwa mocked you before he flicked the sensitive bud. Then he lifted his hand to harshly slap against the innocent lump of flesh, you jumped in surprise at the sensation. The surprise didn’t lie in the sudden surge of pain but rather from the enjoyment you got out of it, the sting sending electricity down your spine to light up your core.

With another faint movement of the head Seonghwa made you open your legs widely. You whimpered and felt tears build up in the corners of your eyes when he finally laid eyes on your most private part. And you realized with dread how wet you were. Soaked. Juices streaming down to your inner thighs making them glisten under his persistent gaze.

“Fuck, sweetheart” he exhaled out one heavy breath. “You got this fucking wet for me?” he said as he crouched down, inching his face dangerously close to your exposed center.

Embarrassment and shame reached an unbearable level, tears finally spilled out of your eyes, wetting your cheeks as you squirmed, trying your best to escape Seonghwa’s spell.

“So here’s the little hole I’m going to split in two” he said as his breath brushed over your wet folds.

You squirmed even harder, somehow feeling Seonghwa’s spell loosen around your wrists and ankles. But when he aimed his pointer finger right on your swollen bundle of nerves, earning a loud scream from you, the sudden pleasure from the perfect amount of pressure he applied on you made you completely immobile. Torn between the need for more of the foreign forbidden joy but also the fear and shame of letting the demon have his way with you, tainting you, taking away your most precious possession: your purity.

“What? Are you not fighting me off anymore?” He started to draw small circles on your bud. Your wetness made it easy for his finger to glide across the small and stiff nub. You moaned a little louder and he started going faster.

“Does it feel good, angel?” his voice went down an octave as pleasure got to your head, making the room spin, luckily you don’t have to stand on your legs.

Seonghwa went even faster when you didn’t reply.

“I said, does it feel good?” his tone was as harsh as his restless teasing of your clit. Hellish circles sending blazing heat to your whole body as you felt the pleasure rising in the deepest part of your core, your walls quivering on themselves.

But Seonghwa slowed down at the worst moment, a wicked smirk pulling on his plump lips, narrowing his piercing siren eyes.

“Good little sluts should answer when asked a question.” His pace was now just fast enough to keep you at your limit, each spasm of your core, testifying of the agonizing muted pleasure he was inflicting on you.

“Answer!” he ordered while he delightfully pressed on your painfully sensitive bundle of nerves.

“YES!! Yes it feels good” you blurted out, panting, sweat pearling between your breasts, giving in to the pressure.

“Good girl” he praised as he finally lifted his hand from your sensitive parts. You sighed in both relief of finally being let off the hook but also in frustration at the displeasing feeling of his denial.

But before you could celebrate or pester he pushed that very same finger inside you. You didn’t know by what ungodly miracle he managed to aim straight at your sensitive spot, but he did, applying divine pressure deep inside you. Your eyes instantly rolled to the back of your head as you felt the will of fighting off slipping through your fingers.

Seonghwa chuckled at your reaction, he was enjoying himself very much. After centuries of boredom he intended to savor every second of your agony.

“Darling, you really are hungry for my fingers, aren’t you? Your slutty little cunt is gripping so tightly” he chuckled again while he pulled his finger back. You hated how right he was. You hated how you felt your walls clench around him, how you felt your own body crave for more of him as soon as his finger slipped out.

But the yearning didn’t last long because he pushed past your entrance again, this time fitting two fingers inside you, taking the time to gently stretch you until his blunt nails reached as deeply as they could.

You let out a moan through gritted teeth, the pleasure making beads of sweat pearl at the sides of your face.

“Fuck! Your virgin little pussy just loves to be stretched out like this, doesn’t it?” He leaned even closer to your sopping center.

Tears continued to run down your cheeks as pleasure rose again. Seonghwa picked up the pace, stretching your walls so deliciously, pumping his two fingers in and out of you, each time he pulled out he ripped a moan out of you. Again, you started to twitch around his fingers and he smirked down on you. Pleasure continuously grew as you made this silent prayer that he would finally take you over the edge, over the barrier of this beautiful and forbidden land that you stayed away from all these years.

But again he slowed down and came to a stop. This time tears of pure frustration ran down your cheeks as you pathetically bucked your hips up trying to fight against Seonghwa’s spell pinning you down the wall.

“Aww.” He cooed in a mocking tone. “Darling, I’m sorry… were you about to cum?” He said while you shot him a death glare. He chuckled at your reddened cheeks and your frowned brows.

His finger swiped across your fold, pressing on the lonely bud once and you instantly dropped the angered look, your eyes drooped at the sensation and you couldn’t help but to grind against him, your womanliness made so eager by his touches.

“Fuck, look at you” he slipped one finger back inside, pumping it very slowly in and out. You bit down on your lip. “Acting so fucking distant only a few minutes ago…” he added a second one as you moaned out in bliss. “When in fact you were craving this… craving me…” he fitted a third one inside your already crowded heat as your moans now mixed with confused sobs. The intense feeling of pain and pleasure blending into a dangerous cocktail.

“Fuckkk” you cursed out, allowing yourself another sin you managed to avoid up until now, which has the demon showing more teeth.

“What a good little slut taking all of my fingers so good” he said as he took his time thoroughly stretching you out, his blunt nails pushing against your sensitive spot, while his face was closing in the distance with your intimate parts. Your eyes fluttered close as the muscles in your neck gave out and you let your head hang back on the wall.

“Look at me” Seonghwa grunted and your eyes snapped back open instantly meeting his dark ones, his irises seemed to go black with perversion.

“Now I’m gonna make you cum” He announced as he picked up the pace once more, you can tell he didn’t intend to stop before it was over. “I want you to never forget this. This feeling you’re about to experience.” His wrist took on a punishing pace as your eyes were locked with his. Pleasure sending radiating heat through your body, chest heaving up and down as you moan out loudly with your jaw hanging open. “Every time you’ll think of me I curse you to feel exactly… like… this”

Seonghwa finally wrapped his mouth around your lonely and eager little clit, flicking his tongue on it as his fingers relentlessly punched your g spot, both sources of pleasure go to your head and your first orgasm finally drops over you like a wave, taking you away with its raging current.

Your cum squirts out of your body, water like fluid rushing out of you and filling Seonghwa’s mouth, drenching his neck and exposed chest in the asymmetrical silver vest. He moaned, lips against yours and sending delicious vibrations into you.

You screamed out as the level of pleasure ripped through you, your walls clenching around Seonghwa and twitching uncontrollably as your whole body shook, still magically pinned down to the wall.

When you finally settled down he slowed down and took his fingers out of you, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and licking his fingers clean.

“Hmmm” he hummed contentedly and smacked his lips, seemingly enjoying your taste. “It’s true… Good little sluts, like you, taste much better”.

Seonghwa cut the spell and stood back up, your exhausted body dropping to the floor, your weakened legs unable to support your weight.

Seonghwa had enough of this teasing and had grown impatient. He brushed back the cum-soaked locks of charcoal black hair sticking to his forehead and cheeks, the wet skin of his chest glistening under the silver asymmetrical vest. Your eyes trailed down below the belt you gasped as you saw the outline of what was hidden from your eyes all this time… Even still restricted by the fabric of the shiny gray dress pants, the thickness and the length had your heart racing again.

“I want to feel you around me. Now.” he ordered, in a sultry tone that lifted goosebumps all over your naked skin.

Suddenly your body was magically lifted up again but this time Seonghwa threw you on the bed. The veil was barely hanging onto your hair anymore.

Seonghwa walked to you as he took off the cropped blazer along with the rest of his clothes. You gulped down at the sight of his nude and perfectly sculpted body standing beside you. The glistening chest made wet with sweat and cum, dripping down his abs even down to his groin where you barely even dared to look.

There it was. The Absolute Sin.

Seonghwa’s long, thick, twitching, veiny, hard cock.

You could have screamed at the monstrous thing if you weren’t still in a daze from your first crushing orgasm . It was so thick, so long you couldn’t even begin to imagine how this was about to fit inside you.

Seonghwa chuckled when he caught the panic swimming in your wide eyes. He thrived on this fear. And he knew exactly how it was going to go. And he couldn’t wait. He couldn’t wait to see the very same doe eyes grow heavy with pleasure and look back at him with need when you will inevitably beg him to keep going, to never stop fucking you. Because he broke you once and he intended to do it over and over and over again until you will no longer remember anything but him.

Seonghwa dipped both his knees at your sides, his body weight making yours sink in the soft mattress while he shimmied his way up between your wide open legs.

He rubbed the thick blazing hot tip on your still very sensitive bud while he stared down at the place your two bodies met. You tried not to moan by biting down on your bottom lip.

“Please” you meekly whimpered, his dark eyes shot back to yours.

“Please what?” he slithered between his teeth, smirking.

“Please don’t… do that…” you puffed, as fear crushed your chest. Seonghwa snickered again and brought his hand to very gently and softly brush his thumb over your wet cheeks and lips.

“Darling” his deep voice purred so softly. “You are not under any spell here. You can control this tiny little body of yours. So go ahead” he taunted you as his hand went down from your face to your sensitive nipples. “Go ahead and close your legs.”

What? No… It isn’t possible.

There was no way he was not the one forcing your thighs apart like this. But when you gave it a try, when you attempted to lift your ankle it actually worked. You indeed could move. But… somehow you…. still didn’t.

“Come on show me. Go ahead, pretty” his hand went down again to your stomach. “Close your legs on this poor, aching, desperate….” he flicked his pointer finger on your clit “virgin little pussy”. The sweet sting made you moan out and arch your back instinctively.

Seonghwa waited a few seconds staring down at you with amusement as you didn't move an inch. Your body kept your legs nice and wide for him against your own will.

“You know what?” he took his hand back and you swallowed back a whine and the loss of contact. “Okay, I won’t… if you are still this strong headed after all of this maybe you’re right. You are a pure spirit and I can admit defeat when I have lost.”

The smug look he wore completely gave him away. You knew it was a ruse, a ploy to get to you, to toy with you but you weren’t listening to reason anymore, only your delirious body tortured with vicious need and you just couldn’t risk it. You couldn’t risk him leaving you, not like this.

“NO!” you wailed, extending your hand to him as he was already getting off the bed and on to his feet. “I-…I-… Ok… do it”

Seonghwa’s expression here took a turn. The smug smile was completely wiped off his face, only dark brown and grave eyes looking down on your naked frame.

“Yeah?” he came back to bed and laid over you. He brought his lips close to your ear and he seductively whispered against your neck as your eyes fluttered close. “If you want it, sweetheart. You’ll have to properly beg for it”.

Your eyes snapped open. But Seonghwa only looked dead serious.

“I- I-” you started but Seonghwa lifted his hand to let it slap against your wet cunt. The whacking sound bounced off the bare walls and the stinging pain had you grunting in unsolicited pleasure.

“I said properly. I want to believe you” his voice had nothing of the playful undertone it had a few moments ago. You didn’t think twice, maybe not even at all.

“Please, Seonghwa. I implore you to fuck me. Please fuck and use my slutty virgin cunt as much as you’d like. Please hurt me and rip my virginity away. I want to scream and cry out your name. I want to be yours. I want to forget everything about the good girl I used to be, I want to be your whore. Forget about my soul, just take it with you back to hell.”

Silence fell as a grin played on his lips. It’s not smug or playful, it’s wicked, downright evil.

You were not just begging him. The desperate prose was not just a plea. It was a prayer. You were praying for him to taint you. Begging him to take away your purity like it was nothing but a nuisance to you, discarding it. Seeing you abandon your values and principles was the greatest achievement, a victory so sweet it made Seonghwa lose control. The feeling was intoxicating, blissfully filling his veins and making his evil heart thump. In his infinite existence he had never felt that. And it was all thanks to you.

Suddenly his body was elevated in the air and purple smoke enveloped him again. For a second you were scared that he was actually leaving you but the thought vanished as quick as it appeared when you heard the distinctive shrill sound of the metal scraping against the wall. You looked above your head and you witnessed with dread the crucifix above your bed being slowly turned upside down, engraving the white plaster of the bare walls. The foreboding omen lifted goosebumps off your skin and sent a cold shiver down your spine.

Soon you saw his body peek out as the smoke evaporated. It was still him but he had changed.

Huge wings were open behind his back, covered in raven black lustrous feathers, shining under the moonlight peeking from the window as the dark night was now settled. Two black horns have pierced his skin at each side of his head, pointing upwards, resembling the ones of a spanish bull. His body, somehow, looked even more defined, the muscles of his abs and shoulders seemed to bulge out. He looked strong, ominous, dangerous.

“You have such a way with words” he said as he floated back between your legs and settled his huge cock on your stomach. “Now I’m gonna make all of your wishes come true”. He brushed the tip of his cock, wet with precum, once again on your slick folds. “I've never fucked a mortal in my true form before.” he started, still rubbing against you, the muted pleasure making your brain fuzzy. “I can’t guarantee you’ll come out of this alive”.

But you were already set on it and if you had to die, so be it…

“I don’t care” you whispered as your eyebrows met and you looked back at him with need.

You braced yourself when you felt him finally push himself inside you. You could practically hear your hymen rip in two to make way for his huge cock. The puny little carrot could have never compared to the size of him.

“What a good little slut you are,” he cooed, before grunting as you were gripping around him. “Willing to die for a round of fun on my big cock”.

Sharp throbbing pain ripped through your lower stomach as you frowned and grunted.

“I know…” Seonghwa purred as he leaned over in your ear “I’m big” he said as he finally reached the bottom of you, linking his hips with yours. And he pulled out a lot faster than when he came in. Your eyes rolled back and you crushed the pillow over your mouth to yell in it.

But when he went back in again somehow the ache had lessened and pleasure was slowly taking its place. Soon the pain, as sharp as it was, vanished to become only a vague memory you couldn’t even recall as your mind was too preoccupied by the incommensurable pleasure Seonghwa made you feel.

“Fucking whore” Seonghwa grunted as he mercilessly ramed up your pussy, making it the shape of his cock. “Cheating on God feels good, doesn’t it? Your whorish little cunt can’t resist this fat demon cock, can it?” he growled.

You started twitching once again around him and Seonghwa instantly recognized the familiar clench he felt earlier around his fingers.

“Are you going to cum?” he asked, panting above you.

You couldn’t even process the words you were hearing as your eyes rolled back and your jaw fell open. But you were brought back to your senses when Seonghwa’s big clawed hand slapped your cheek forcefully. The burning pain took you aback and stopped your never ending ascension to pleasure. You whined a complaint and Seonghwa grabbed your face into a strong grip making your lips pout.

“Good little whores have to ask first” he said, still deeply pounding your precious little pussy.

“Pleasepleaseplease… C-can I cum?... F-fuckk… Please” you mumbled as his pace made it hard to hold yourself back.

“No!” he responded sternly. “Not now” he said, smirking evilly. Enjoying this anguish in your eyes as you tried your best to control your body. He brought his hand and pinched hard on your swollen little clit.

“Aaaah” you screamed, arching your back and pressing your head back into the soft mattress.

“You’ll cum when I’ll tell you too” he snickered, looking down at you. And the pleasure kept on building, frustrated tears starting to wet your cheeks again.

“My God please…” you whined, as tears streamed down your face and your pussy clenched around his thick cock. Seonghwa scoffed.

“Sorry but he has left you, darling.” He started to draw circles on your sensitive and aching clit, still maintaining the punishing pace of his cock rearranging your guts, making the rosary beads jump along with your breasts with each powerful thrust. You cry out as it’s becoming nearly impossible to keep yourself from cumming. “He abandoned you to me” he growled, his low voice sending electricity down your core.

“Pleaseeeee” you pleaded once more, desperation oozing out of your broken up voice and finally Seonghwa pronounced the magic words.

“Cum. Cum for me like the godless little whore that you are”

Finally you let go. You let Seonghwa’s skillful hand and monstrous, merciless cock take you down to the hellish pit of lustful sin. Pleasure took over you and clouded your vision, everything came to a blur as you could only concentrate on the throbbing of your cunt around Seonghwa’s thick dick. You moaned out his name in pure agonizing bliss. The orgasm was even longer lasting, even stronger than the one he gave you moments ago. And you knew for a fact now that there was no going back.

The good girl that you were had died, Seonghwa killed her. And you had let him do it without batting an eyelash. But fuck did it feel good. You felt no shame, no regrets, only unholy desire for the demon’s heavenly cock.

Soon the high wore off but Seonghwa didn’t seem to care and kept on pounding you, taking a bruising grip on your parted thighs with both his hands.

“Please” you whimpered again as your poor little pussy might split in two from clenching and throbbing this much right after an earth shattering orgasm. Seonghwa chuckled in between heavy breaths.

“I just came” you cried out, turning into an over-stimulated mess.

“I don’t care” he spat, using you like a fucktoy just like he pleased, after all you had asked him to do so… ‘to fuck and use your slutty virgin cunt as much as he’d like’. The exhausted quivering of your restless pussy started to build up again and before you could even realize it, Seonghwa’s thick cock had you flirting with the edge of the bottomless pleasure pit again.

“Please” you whined “Please stop” you begged him, breast lewdly jumping up and down with each of his brutal thrusts. But he kept on going, growling as his eyebrows met, handsome face contorted in pleasure, biting his lip. Body pressed over yours and full black feathered wings completely concealing you, one of his horns even scraping the wall with one too violent move.

“Pleaseeeee” you whimpered yet again. And suddenly your body was being lifted and flipped over by Seonghwa’s spell. You land on all fours, completely confused but worst of all, completely empty.

“Don’t you get it?” Seonghwa said as he slowly pushed himself back into your soft, warm little throbbing cunt. You moaned as you gladly took him back. “You sold your soul to me. You don’t get to ask for anything anymore. So I’ll fuck you for as long as I see it fit” He said before pushing down on your face, shoving your head into a shamefully submissive position, your ass up in the air, ready to be destroyed by him once more.

His fat cock parted you so deliciously as lewd wet sounds rang to your ears. It was like your once virgin pussy had completely taken the shape of his monstrous dick. Every movement he made ripped a delighted moan out of your lips, you didn’t have the will to fight anymore. You only wanted him and this delectable high he made you feel.

“Fuckkk” you cried out as he started to go faster again, the quiver in your lower stomach making a quick return.

“You’re my thing now.” He ripped the veil of your hair, the last relic of your past self and sent it flying across the room. He grabbed a fistfull of your hair, harshly pulling on it maintaining your face forward but your chin still firmly planted in the mattress, asserting his dominance on your frail figure. “My toy, you hear?” the sting on your scalp added to the full feeling of his cock had you completely fucked out. Your eyes rolled as heat spreaded through you again, your jaw fell open and your tongue slipped out. You were fucked out dumb, completely. Brain nice and thoughtless just from him.

“Yeshhh” you mumbled.

“I’m gonna make you cum again and this time I will fill your dirty little cunt with my cum” The obscene sounds of his balls slapping against your slick folds and clit bounced off the walls.

“Yesshh pwweathe” you replied as your tongue slapped against your chin with each inhuman thrust of his hips deep into you, sending strings of drool on your chin and staining the sheets.

“Today you’re ovulating, you know what it means?”

Your eyes snapped back open.

“I’m gonna force a child into you. You’ll take my seed into your fertile womb and life will sprout inside you” His grip on your hair tightened and you felt him start to twitch inside you.

“You’d like that?” he teases, knowing the answer.

“Yesssshhhhh!!!” you yelled, you were ready for anything if it meant he’d let you cum again.

“Then take it. Take my cum you depraved slut” His second hand left your hips to grab the rosary still around your neck, twisting his wrist to wrap the beads around his fingers and pulling on it while still maintaining his grasp on your hair.

Bloodstream to your brain became restrained and you started to feel dizzy. A deliciously light headed sensation filled your head up as your pussy quivered with a third orgasm. Your hungry cunt squeezed Seonghwa’s thick length as if its life depended on it, demanding every last drop of cum the demon had to offer. You clenched and throbbed around him in pure joyful sin as he took you to the deepest part of this abysmal and cursed pleasure, taking your sanity and everything that was left of the old you to the pits of hell with him.

Seonghwa’s rhythm faltered and he shuddered and grunted in bliss as his throbbing cock gushed out streams after streams of piping hot cum that stained your walls with white, shooting straight up to your womb, assuredly knocking you up in the process.

You yelled and moaned one last time. You were so full of him, belly round and swollen with the ungodly amount of cum Seonghwa gracefully gifted you. You were so unbelievably full that you couldn't help but to let it flow out of you and run down your thighs, no matter how much you clenched to keep it all inside.

You were in heaven. This was pure euphoria. A kind of contentment not any amount of spirituality and virtue could ever give you. The kind of happiness you could only experience when you let go of everything you’ve ever known to throw yourself into the arms of the most pleasurable sin of all.

Lust.

***

The next morning when you woke up at dawn with the chirping birds you felt nauseous and disoriented. You looked around the room and found it immaculate. Your habit was not ripped in two, it was neatly folded on the wooden bedside table along with your veil and underwear. The room was clean and neat: no traces of small pieces of orange carrot anywhere or puddles of cum on the wooden floor. And you were wearing a comfortable full length pyjama gown.

In a flash, disjointed memories came back to you. You remembered the anthracite gray suit, the black bull horns, the raven wings, the defined abs, the devilishly handsome good looks, the tempting smirk and the huge thick angry cock and the immense forbidden pleasure that came along with it.

You sat up and looked behind you hastily, the wall was perfectly smooth, no scrapes of the black horns and most of all the crucifix was perfectly normal, hanging right side up.

You spotted the small, thin, intact carrot next to your pillow and sighed in relief. Yes, you had sinned but you knew if you confessed and prayed hard enough God would forgive you. Afterall, you had never done such a thing and it was shameful and wrong, yes, but they were far greater sins than this one, like selling your soul to the Sin of Lust and bearing his child… You shook your head, chasing away the blurry memory of the nightmare, feeling a weird tingly build up in your lower stomach as you saw flashes of the evil smirks and the huge monstrous-

“It was a dream” you said out loud, sighing, hoping the sound of your own voice would prevent your mind from imagining more of the sinful imagery. “Just a meaningless dream” you told yourself again.

Convinced the soreness between your legs was only due to masturbating for the first time, that the nausea was nothing to worry about and that the spasm inside your belly were benign little cramps.

Seonghwa smirked in victory as he looked at you through the pierced purple smoke. He made it. He broke you beyond repair. He went, won and marked you. And soon he would back to take what you had promised him: an offspring and your soul, body and mind, you.

“See you soon, y/n” he chuckled.

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wonysugar · 11 days

Text

close the door | hanni pham

synopsis : you had no idea what you were doing, and neither did she.

genre : fluffy smut!

pairing : non-idol!hanni x gf!femreader

tags : they’re in love your honor, lots of kissing and making out, cuddling, l-bombs, top!femreader, bottom!hanni, they’re both virgins, fingering, clit play, nipple play, neck kissing, hanni’s dogs are mentioned twice lawl, lots of comfort, lots of consent! they’re literally just lovey dovey girlfriends having sex for the first time aheheh

warnings : none :]

word count : 2.5k

a/n : if you’re rereading this and thinking “hey the synopsis changed and there wasn’t an author’s note before!!” well you’d be right I POSTED THIS IN A RUSH I’M SO SORRYYFKEJF

anyways!! this is just to say that this fic is inspired by the lovely writer that is sorry for tagging you twice ahh @facefullofsadness’s fic right over here :] sooo GO READ THAT FIRST! it’s truly lovely and i really enjoyed reading it, hence why i wrote thisskfke. thank you for readingg<33

oh how you loved your girlfriend.

you would die for your girlfriend, actually, even if you only started dating barely a few months ago. who could blame you? that’s what happens when you’ve been best friends prior to your relationship for so, so, so long. it simply started with a ‘hi! my name’s hanni! what’s yours?’ from her part at the innocent age of seven and just like that, years later, you guys were still inseparable.

so really, your life-long friendship and months-long relationship were both with the same gorgeous and outgoing girl, and the only thing distinguishing those two was the label you used to describe them.

“bro i genuinely don’t understand why he doesn’t just… run away. cause— get this, there’s obviously a murderer in his house right? and what does he decide to do about that? just stay in there. like, okay.. like i’m aware they needed plot but lord, i don’t know at least make it somewhat realistic you know what i mean—“ was what your girlfriend said, on her bed as she sat down in between your legs and leaned her back against you, her head facing forward and resting on your shoulder.

you simply nodded along to her words as you played with her hair, trying your hardest to stay focused on the piece of media before you whilst also paying your utmost attention to her, despite her constant ranting and criticizing of the entire movie. you, having originally liked the film, were now conflicted about your opinion on it. it’s not like she was wrong, her very heavy criticism had to have come from somewhere, after all, but you couldn’t help but slightly appreciate the storyline. so, you weren’t really sure what you felt about it anymore.

one thing you were certain of, however,

was that your girlfriend looked really good while passionately rambling. like, way too good. she had tied her dark hair into a high ponytail, it also looked wavy due to the rain that was pouring on you guys earlier, her messy bangs fell perfectly onto her forehead. and her smile? it always looked perfect. she always looked perfect.

and since you apparently weren’t hiding your admiration well enough, she very quickly noticed it.

she giggled teasingly. her voice sweet like honey, her australian accent more prominent than usual, she spoke up, “hello?” before full-on laughing, “were you even listening to me?”

you could only kiss her, that seemed like the only appropriate response in the heat of the moment. she, of course, kissed back just as lovingly before pulling away moments after, a curious and confused look on her face.

“no seriously, what is up with you?” she kept teasing, smiling stupidly as she kept her gaze lingering on yours for the following seconds, her eyes unconsciously drifting to your lips. “you look stupid.”

“and you look really pretty.” was what you whispered back to her, earning a shy smile and an exaggerated eye roll from her. immediately, you made your lips come into contact with hers again. it felt as if the world would stop spinning if you didn’t, like a slowly growing urge to keep touching her suddenly came over you and you needed to fill it.

“so.. so pretty.” you mumbled, so quietly that it was almost to yourself, before going back in. you allowed yourself to make the kiss deeper and slid her tongue across her soft lips as you demanded entrance. you could hear her let out slight noises, she clearly was not expecting you to do anything of the sorts, at least not right now. she was a tad bit confused, but let you in, who in their right mind would pass up the opportunity to kiss their girlfriend? immediately, your hands wrapped around her waist whilst you continued kissing her lovingly, your tongue roaming every part of her mouth.

it didn’t take long before your hands started naturally reaching under her top, caressing on her tummy and progressively going higher with each sound she let out.

you pulled away, slightly worried of going too far, “c-can.. can i continue, hanni?”

you were scared, terrified, even! despite knowing each other for years, you’d only been dating for a few months; those are two completely different things! it’s not like you see your completely platonic best friend’s naked body every tuesday. even then, despite dating, you still haven’t gotten that stage of the relationship. and on top of that,

the two of you were a proper pair of virgins. you had no idea what you were doing, and neither did she. you didn’t want to seem like an inexperienced loser to her, you wanted to take care of her and make her feel good. what if that didn’t happen? what if you made it awkward between the two of you?? it was nerve-racking.

as if barging into your mind and reading your thoughts, wanting to reassure you, she grabbed your hand in a gentle manner before nodding. then, she spoke up, “can you close the door?”

“there’s.. nobody home, though?”

she giggled, “oh i know, it’s just that i don’t want the dogs to potentially walk in on this.”

you groaned dramatically, laughing and insisting that you were too lazy to get up and that her dogs wouldn’t understand the situation if they even walked in. she, in response, just tapped your knee with a cheeky smile, encouraging you to stand up.

“come on y/n, close the door. think about milly and mia; think about their innocence!” she exaggerated.

after playfully hitting her arm and laughing along with her, you got up, proceeded to close and lock the door like she asked you to and eventually walked back to her bed, sitting back on it and positioning yourself the way you originally were, her back to you again.

“happy?” you asked in a fake arrogant tone.

she hummed, radiant, “yes, very happy.” before turning her head just right and kissing you again.

eventually back to the original rhythm of the kiss, you placed your hands back on her stomach again, slowly caressing and teasing higher and higher with time. once you reached her bra, you proceeded to impatiently unhook it, immediately taking it off of her.

her breathing got heavier with each second that passed, partially due to nervousness, probably. you’d be lying if you said that wasn’t the case for you too. the more your hands carefully roamed her body, the more self-conscious you got, you truly had no idea what you were doing.

then, as if something in your mind clicked, you had an idea. what if you just did to her whatever you enjoyed doing to yourself in moments like these? that could work.. right? maybe??

you glided your hand upwards, your finger lightly grazing her nipple. in response to the sudden movement, a lewd sound accidentally escaped from her pretty lips, her breath hitching. that sound was a small moan.

a small one, barely audible, yet it was still enough for you to feel the activation of every single neuron residing in your brain.

then suddenly, it’s like the concept of making love to her wasn’t as nerve-racking as it originally was.

“s-sorry..” she apologized, seeming slightly embarrassed.

you kissed her cheek, reassuring her, “don’t apologize, i wanna hear you.”

despite it being an accident, she seemed to enjoy the sensation of your hand on her chest, so you went back to teasing her tits and gently groping them before you eventually asked, “is it okay if i go further..?”

nodding in a keen manner, she swallowed her saliva, then breathed out her response, “yes. yes keep— keep going. please.”

well shit! even if you wanted to stop, it’s not like you could, not with how good she sounded pleading for you.

not wasting any more time, you proceeded to separate one of your hands from her chest and quickly slid it downwards; to the band of her sweatpants. now, of course, your other hand was still in its original place, working its magic, but you wanted her to feel more. so much more.

you wanted to convey every surge of affection you violently felt for her into pleasure. and, if there was one thing you surely knew how to do, it was kissing her.

so, you started kissing on her neck, which she didn’t expect whatsoever, and still heavily concentrated on the hand you had on her breast. then, you pulled on the sleeve of her tee just enough to expose her shoulder and moved your mouth towards it, nipping and gently licking it.

your hand now fully slipped into her pants, you teased her entrance through the fabric of her underwear as you kept kissing her naked shoulder. you listened to her attentively and took mental notes of her reactions; so far, her breathing got heavier, her thighs slightly clenched around your hand and she was now frequently biting her lip.

plus, her panties were wet.

did all of that mean you were doing good? …perhaps it did!

and did her drenched underwear make you short circuit? perhaps it did as well!

“d-d’you feel okay?” you asked, before going back to slowly kissing her shoulder. she threw you a quick glance, chest heaving up and down.

“s-so okay.” she giggled.

her smile being contagious, you found yourself doing the exact same thing, content with the answer she gave you.

soon enough, you traced your finger up her clothed slit before eventually sliding it into the undergarment she wore, making her shudder. after what felt like an eternity, you could feel her slick coat your digits from one swipe of the finger.

it was tantalizing.

growing impatient, you quickly yet carefully settled your middle and ring finger on her swollen clit, making slow circular motions on it, looking at her in the process. full on whimpering, this time, she stared back at you, no longer embarrassed. she wanted to let you know how good you were making her feel, hence why she was getting louder with each movement you made, and it filled you with enough confidence and adrenaline to gently push her head towards you, leaning in for a kiss.

thankfully, she kissed you back, deeply at that, her eyes closed and her quiet moans muffled.

you pulled away after a few moments, “tell me if it hurts, okay?” you reminded her. she simply nodded, brain all fuzzy from arousal.

she grabbed your other hand and intertwined her fingers with yours. “g-go slowly.” she whispered.

“i will.” you affirmed.

slowly and gently, you slid your fingers into her core, making sure not to go too fast or too rough. thankfully, the wetness was making it easier for you, and probably for her as well. every time that your girlfriend’s breath hitched, that her hand gripped harder on yours or, hell, every time that her eyes closed, you stopped in your tracks and double checked to see if you were hurting her, so it took a little while for your digits to fully penetrate her.

fortunately, she assured you that you weren’t, in fact, hurting her. some moments just felt more comfortable than others, is all.

once they were fully in, you gave her time to get used to the feeling, still double checking on her state every now and then. after a few deep breaths, she nodded.

“i-i’m ready.”

you started to pump your fingers in and out of her, taking in all of her as your speed slowly increased as time went on. naturally, as more time passed, you felt the urge to make her feel good get even stronger.

that’s when you decided to increase the pace, your fingers curling on just the right spot inside her, pumping faster and faster as your thumb played with her clit.

“is this okay baby—” you asked.

“f-fuck— yes y/n that feels good—“ was what she moaned out, cutting you off. a feeling of bliss progressively and clearly overtaking her whole body.

when you tried to look at her despite only being able to see her side profile, you could’ve sworn you saw an angel. her cheeks were slightly tinted with a pinkish color and her eyebrows were upturned, her whole face contorted with pleasure, her skin glistening with sweat. her eyes hooded with lust, hanni looked down at herself and attentively watched as you played with her. your fingers swimming in her slick, navigating in her folds the way a skilled sailor would the vast ocean, it was hypnotizing, and she realized how this was probably the way you got yourself off on a regular day, and she couldn’t help but moan at both the thought and the sensation.

you made her feel good, you made her feel happy, loved. you always did.

amidst the chaos that was her messy bed, the setting somehow looked better than every piece of artwork you’d ever seen combined. the bed creaked ever so slightly, and she looked and sounded so beautiful, especially with the way the sun set directly on her parted lips at that moment.

you were certain that your heart skipped a beat at the sight.

“i love you so much, hanni.” you softly said, kissing the back of her ear whilst you kept fingering her. she couldn’t form proper words, so she simply tightened her grip on your hand more, as a way to say it back.

then, once you picked up a stable pace for a few minutes, her back arched against you, her breathing getting heavier, practically panting. her hand’s grip on yours getting tighter, you felt her hot breath hit your neck once she settled her head into the crook of it.

“y/n— baby i think i’m- i’m— mmh—“

that was the moment she reached climax, letting out a long and loud moan as she rode out her orgasm, bucking her hips against your hand before smashing her lips onto yours. quietly, she let a few i love yous slip out of her mouth between kisses, her hand resting on your head, fingers intertwined with your soft hair.

you particularly made sure to say it back to her every time.

you pulled out your fingers and took your hand out of her pants. still coming down from her high, she smiled at you with tired eyes and kissed your cheek. you smiled back, looking at her lovingly.

“d-did i do okay?”

she giggled, “..are you seriously asking me that? do you not see me right now?”

you raised your eyebrows, playful, “for all i know you were faking it.”

“yeah, actually.. i was faking it, especially with how wet i was from the whole thing. aren’t i such a good actor y/n? it’s almost like i legitimately came really hard—”

“shut up.” you elbowed her, laughing. she gave you a cheeky smile before she got up from the bed, grabbed a pair of new underwear from her drawer and opened the bedroom door, heading straight towards the living room to pet her dogs.

“hey y/n?”

“hm?”

“wanna bake brownies in a bit?”

“uhm.. yes? what kind of question is that?? let me just go wash my hands first.” you replied, getting up and walking towards the bathroom before adding on, “unless you wanna eat very unsanitary cum-buttered brownies, of course—“

you heard her contagious laugh from across the hallway, making you smile to yourself, “you’re fucking disgusting— go wash your hands, you weirdo!”

oh how you loved your girlfriend.

#smut #kpop gg #hanni pham newjeans #hanni newjeans #newjeans smut #hanni pham #hanni pham x female reader #hanni x reader #hanni x fem reader #hanni pham x fem reader #hanni smut #newjeans hanni #female reader #kpop gg smut #kpop girlgroups

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soulofapatrick · 2 months

Text

Wheels up in thirty - Aaron Hotchner x Female reader

Summary: You and Hotch finally get physical and its so much better than you had ever thought it could be

Words: 1.9K

Warnings: smut; p in v; somewhat rough; dom/sub; kinda porn with no plot; plot if you squint

Notes: I need to be stopped, Hotch needs more fiction

Y/N's POV

I’m not sure how I ended up here again, straddling Hotch’s waist in just my panties and him in just his boxers. His hands are gripping my hips hard enough to leave bruises as he guides me along the length of his clothes crotch. The tip has escaped his waistband, red and angry and dripping precum that I want to lick up but I can’t move.

“H-Hotch.” I choke out in frustration when his phone starts ringing, mine buzzing across the room in my to go bag that was thrown haphazardly across the room somewhere.

He surprises me by ignoring it, instead choosing to make me rise to my knees to he can shimmy out of those black boxers, dick springing up and I think I almost come right then and there at the sheer size and girth of him. His left hand goes back to my hips, slotting in the dip as if my body was made just for him. His right pushes my panties aside so grip the base of his girth, lining myself up before slowly beginning to sink down. The stretch burns but it’s oh so beautiful, this being the first time we’ve gotten this far.

I still remember Hotch admitting his feelings for me one night after a particularly stressful case, both of us sat in his office on the sofa. Everyone else had gone home but I had nothing to go home to so I sat there with Hotch, the heat of his skin searing as he turned and kissed me.

“Hotchner.” My head flies down to see Hotch has finally answered his phone, his hand on my hip not haltering its gentle push and pull. It has my jaw falling open at the pure scandal of what Hotch is currently doing when he says, “JJ, we’ll be there as soon as.” He swallows hard when he realises he said ‘we’ “Yes. Alright see you soon.”

His head falls back into the pillow when I rock my hips gently, hanging up and throwing his phone in the top drawer of his bedside table, cognac eyes fluttering open to meet mine, darkening so much they’re almost black. He sounds so wrecked already, a light sheen of sweat over his skin, his dark hair pressed against his forehead and the sight of him alone has me rocking my hips even more slowly, grinding into him.

A surprised sound leaves my throat when one of his hands tangles in my hair ad tugs as he’s suddenly flipping us over. My nails are digging into his biceps until he moves one hand between us to rub circles into my clit to distract me from the new angle that has him buried to the hilt. I swear I can feel every bump and ridge of him against my fluttering walls as I find his now damp messy hair and tugging almost harshly but he just moans, loud and dirty, “C-Can I?” He sounds like he’s choking, trying to keep his hips as still as he can as to give me time to adjust to the new angle.

I don’t reply, just wrap my legs around his waist, heels digging into his lower back and he gets the hint. He pulls out until just the tip is in before slamming back to the hilt, dragging such loud moans from both of us, his lips move down my chest until they’re enclosing around one of my nipples, one hand finding my hand and intertwining our fingers while the other hand digs into my hips to stop me shifting up the bed as he sets an almost brutal pace. It adds to the almost overwhelming pleasure and I don’t think I’m going to last long with how I’m already clamping around him and my thighs are shaking and Hotch can tell as there’s a smile etches into my skin as he moves his lips back to the soft spot just below my jaw.

“Come for me princess.” His thumb rubs along my bottom lip and I’m sucking it into my mouth, tasting the saltiness on it and without warning my back is arching, yanking him into a bruising kiss as my body writhes and tries to move away from him as he continues to pound me into the bed, my eyes rolling into the back of my head, “That’s it darling, I’ve got you.” Tears prickle at the corners of my eyes as I come down from my high almost too quickly, body trying to wriggle away from him but his hands are flying to hold me in place as he continues to whisper lovingly into my skin, “One more princess, just one more.”

“Aaron,” I choke out, “P-phone-“ His phone is buzzing frantically in the bed side table but he ignores it so I do too, wanting everything Hotch has to offer me. My nails are raking down his back as another builds so quickly, my legs trembling and he’s picking up the pace, hips slamming into mine hard enough to bruise but it just adds to my heightened overstimulation. His every touch is like fire against my skin and his kisses are messy with lips crushing and teeth clashing but it’s perfect. I get lost in the heat of his body flush against mine, the smell of arousal and sweat heavy in the air and the salty taste as I reciprocate the hickeys all over his neck to try and stave off my second orgasm knowing I’m not going to last, knowing I’ll have to worry about the hickeys covering both of us later.

Apparently it’s too much for Hotch as his hand that was holding my hand moves to lightly grip my throat, his breath hot against my shoulder as his thrusts get sloppy. He’s hitting that spongy spot every time and suddenly, without warning his hips are slamming into mine once more and I can feel him shoot thick rope after thick rope against my walls, filling me up. The feeling mixed with the pressure on my neck has my vision whiting out and I think I can hear myself almost screaming Hotch’s name as wave after wave of pleasure rolls over me and I think I pass out fro a moment or two.

My eyes are fluttering open to Hotch stroking my hair, “There you are sweet girl,” he’s cooing, lips pressing sweet and gentle kisses to my skin, “I’ve got you, come back to me princess.” He’s gentle with every movement as he slowly pulls out, both of us wincing a little and I try to raise myself to my elbows but they give way almost immediately and he feels it as he’s chuckling, “Stay right there, let me grab our clothes. You can rest in the car.”

Oh god, the case. I must look just as much of a mess as Aaron looks as he climbs off the bed. I can feel his seed leaking down my thighs and staining the sheets but I’m too spend and sated to care, groaning weakly when Hotch's hands are back on me, the fabric of a damp cloth wiping away as much of the mess as he can before his hands are guiding my legs into my panties and jeans. He’s then pulling me to my feet. Bad move as my legs are shaking so much they give way and he’s catching me, wrapping his arms around my waist as he buttons my jeans up with one hand. A sweet kiss is pressed to my neck as he sits me back onto the bed, in the spot that isn’t soiled before he’s fumbling around the room again then my bra is being put in place and clasped with ease.

“I’m so proud of you princess.” Hotch praises, a soft sound leaving him when my thighs clench together involuntarily at the praise despite my body not being able to take another orgasm, wanting to snuggle into his strong and safe arms and sleep. But his famous Hotch jumper is being pulled over my head and I’m weakly pulling my arms through the sleeves as he cleans himself up and gets into a fresh pair of boxers and suit trousers.

My jaw drops when take a proper look at Hotch as he reaches into his bedside table to answer his phone that is buzzing again. He’s standing there, phone to ear, listening to who I’m guessing is Emily telling him off for not answering their frantic calls. I currently don’t care, unable to take my eyes off the hickeys of varying sizes and colours all over his neck and chest and the raised and raw scratch marks going down his back, some of them speckled with blood. It’s a mixture of embarrassment and pride that fills me, knowing that we’ve left physical marks on each other.

“Yes Emily, I have Y/N. We’ll be there in twenty minutes. We’ll meet you at the jet.” With that Hotch hangs up, cognac eyes landing on me again and darkening slightly as he takes me in, my legs still shaking a little before he has to shake his head and find a suit shirt and jacket.

We make it to the runway with three minutes to spare and the hickeys and marks still very visible as it was cover them and miss the jet or make it and ignore everyone’s comments.

As we step into the cabin, the atmosphere shifts. Eyes dart towards me and Hotch, lingering on the conspicuous mark adorning both our necks and the fact I’m wearing Hotch’s jumper. Whispers flutter through the air like wayward butterflies, tinged with curiosity and amusement, as the team members look at the scene before them.

Morgan’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he exchanges knowing glances at Emily who sighs and hands him some money as JJ attempts to stifle a giggle behind her hand across from them. Garcia, ever the theatrical, widens her eyes in exaggerated shock, her hand flying to her mouth in an ever so theatrical gesture of astonishment.

Rossi, ever the observant one, arches one eyebrow in amusement, his lips quirking into a sly smile as he takes in the sight of us. His gaze holding a mixture of amusement and approval, silently acknowledging the feelings finally accepted between me and Hotch even if it was done in a very unprofessional way.

The comments come in a flurry, a blend of teasing remarks and playful backer, laced with the underlying affection shared among the members of the team. Despite the teasing, there is an unmistakable sense of camaraderie, a bond forged through countless missions and shared experiences, that holds everyone together even in the most unconventional of moments.

Hotch presses a gentle kiss to the side of my head, moving his hand from the small of my back as I smack Morgan’s arm lightly, passing them all to fall into the seat next to my best friend - Spencer - who hasn’t said a word. I rest my head on his shoulder and smack his leg as I feel his shoulders moving with silent laughter, everyone going back to teasing me and Hotch as the case can wait until we get there.

Criminal Minds Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 21st Dec 2023

@guacam011y @rosaliedepp @kajjaka

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redstarwriting · 11 months

Text

the clash | vi. (with someone you shouldn’t’ve)

hobie brown x goth!reader

word count: 2.2k

genre: enemies to lovers

warnings: language, insults, hobie hating you (sort of), you hating hobie, angry hobie, death, there’s a murder, SORT OF GRAPHIC death scene, injuries, ANGST, a plot twist!, sort of allusions to s*icide

a/n: ok y’all. this one’s a lil shorter, but this is where it starts getting whacky. the way i’m writing this is sort of like if i was writing a comic book, so this is a WHOLE ASS PLOTLINE that i could see being illustrated in my brain. i hope you enjoy, bc it’s about to get WILD. don’t worry tho the fluff will come bc i’m soft(ish)

previous chapter: v. ever fallen in love

now reading: vi. (with someone you shouldn’t’ve)

next chapter: vii. i wanna be sedated

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First thing’s first, Hobie needs to find out where the Prowler of your world might be. He could always call Miles and ask him where his Uncle Aaron lived, but that seems a little… insensitive. If there’s anything he knows about the Prowler, he knows that he’s a thief. So, Hobie snatches your police dispatcher and listens for some burglaries being reported. Getting any type of assistance from the police pains him to his very core, but he’s not about to wake you up and let you know what he’s about to do. He crouches on the railing of your balcony and stares out at your city. He hears calls about someone robbing a Bloodega, not the Prowler. Some kids snuck into a club, also not what he needs. “Come on, pigs,” he mumbles, “give me somethin’ useful here.”

That’s when his ears perk up.

“Reports of someone lurking around of Oscorp Labs, suspicions that it might be the Prowler. Units on standby for Spider-Goth, do not engage with the Prowler.”

Do not engage? What the hell? Isn’t he a villain? Hobie quickly understands what’s going on.

He works with the cops.

Fuck this assshole.

He leaps off your balcony, webbing his way through your city. It may not be his style, necessarily, but it’s a nice place. He can see why you like it so much. He’s actually been webbing through it more than he ever expected to with how much he visits you. He knows deep down that he’s visiting so much only to see you, but outwardly he likes to pretend it’s just to see Shadow. He knows more about your world than Miles, Pav, or Gwen’s which is interesting considering he’s known you only about 3 and a half months. Luckily, you live only a short web swing away from Oscorp, so he can’t get too lost in his thoughts about you and can end this guy faster. He lands on the top of the building and glances around. He notices a perfectly cut hole in the glass a few floors down, so he crawls down and through into the building. It’s dark. He tries to stay as quiet as he possibly can because he knows that’s how you would do it, but damn. He just isn’t good at stealth. And this is factual apparently, because he gets the feeling someone is watching him and just barely jumps out of the way from what looks like a whip covered in spikes. He lands on the ground in a crouched position when he hears a somewhat familiar sounding voice. “Who the hell are you?”

“Can ask you the same question, mate,” Hobie says, “The answer will make this whole thing so much easier.”

“You one of that freak’s friends?”

“Something like that,” Hobie responds. “I take it you’re the Prowler?”

“The one and only,” he says, and Hobie rolls his eyes under his mask. “Mate, do I have some news for you,” he snorts, and the Prowler flicks his wrist. His whip makes some mechanical noise and green and purple light starts shining through it in little places where the metal isn’t completely welded together. Hobie motions to it. “Bet you’re proud a’ that. What are you? A cybergoth? cyborgoth?”

“I’ll ask this one more time. Who are you?”

“Name’s Spider-Man, also known as Spider-Punk,” Hobie says, and the Prowler groans. “There’s another one? You’ve got to be kidding.”

“There’s a lot more than just me and them, mate,” Hobie crouches down, ready to leap out of the way if need be. “Why are you here? Where’s my insect at?”

Hobie doesn’t like the way he called you his. “They’re not yours,” he hisses at him. The Prowler is quiet for a moment before laughing. “Oh. I see. Didn’t know they had a boyfriend,” he says, before whipping towards Hobie. He jumps out of the way in time, but almost doesn’t because boyfriend? Excuse me? “Not their boyfriend!” he yells, landing on the ceiling and glaring down at the Prowler. “No? Then why are you here? I figured it was because of how badly I beat them. Their screams were so entertaining.” Hobie hates this man. He clenches his jaw. “Nowhere near as entertainin’ as yours’ll be, dickhead,” he grunts, jumping down and shooting a web at the Prowlers legs. Luckily, the Prowler wasn’t expecting that, and Hobie is able to yank his legs out from underneath him. He falls hard, and Hobie smirks. “Oh sorry, did that hurt?” Hobie says, and the Prowler growls, standing up faster than Hobie anticipated. “I’ll kill you.”

“Not if I kill you first, mate,” Hobie says, anger seeping out of his words. “A spider that willingly kills, huh? Is that why you came to find me?” he chuckles, “I feel like you and I could be good friends,” the Prowler’s chuckle turns into a laugh, and it pisses Hobie off even more. “I’d rather die than be friends with someone like you,” Hobie shoots another web at him, but this time the prowler dodges it. He flicks his wrist, and Hobie feels the whip make contact with his side. He grunts in pain. This must be what got you earlier today. “That can be arranged. You’re even worse than your little partner,” the Prowler says, and Hobie can hear the smirk. He wants to punch that fucking smirk off his stupid face. Hobie stands again, grabbing his guitar. If it’s a fight to the death this fucker wants, it’s a fight he’ll get. And Hobie will not be dying tonight. “Oh, what are you gonna do? Power chord me out of existence?”

“More like beat your ass until you kick it,” Hobie growls, “but if ya want me to do it with style, I’ll play ya a song over your dead body.”

“Bold of you to assume I’ll be the one dying tonight,” the Prowler says and uses his whip again. Hobie jumps out of the way, and his eyes widen as he dodges two bullets in midair. He lands on the ground and sees that the Prowler’s gauntlets are guns as well. He scoffs. “How much that suit cost ya?”

“Would have cost a lot if I didn’t steal it or invent it myself, but I did,” Hobie dodges two more bullets, but lands directly on the Prowlers whip, causing him to slip and fall. “Luckily my agreement with the police got me the state-of-the-art tech that I needed,” the Prowler confesses. “Fuck,” Hobie grunts, jumping up as quickly as he can. “I’m gonna love telling Spider-Goth I took down their boyfriend.”

“Not their boyfriend!” Hobie yells, jumping out of the way of his whip, and more bullets.

“I find that very hard to believe.”

“Look, how ‘bout we settle this without any gadgets, eh? See who wins then?” Hobie says, and the Prowler scoffs. “If you can’t beat me at my best, you can’t beat me at my worst.”

“Actually, yeah I can. Dunno if you’re realizin’, but I’m still alive and breathin’,” Hobie says, jumping out of the way of his whip yet again. This time, though, Hobie was prepared. He webs the whip and yanks it as hard as he can. The Prowler is airborne as Hobie swings him to the other side of the room. He lands with a thud, and Hobie webs over to him, doing a flip to land a kick directly to the face. The Prowler manages to get his whip wrapped around Hobie’s ankle and flings him back across the room. He crashes into some glass wall and groans. “As much as I fuck with your ‘fuck the establishment attitude,’ Spider-Goth ain’t gonna be too happy with me if I destroy another buildin’,” Hobie says, shaking his head, hearing some glass fall down next to him. Then, the alarms start blaring. ‘Great, probably broke somethin’ important,’ he thinks before noticing a piece of glass stuck in his arm. ‘Gotta make this quick,’ he thinks, grunting as he pulls the glass out of his arm. “Like I give a fuck what makes them mad,” the Prowler says, running towards Hobie. He leaps out of the way, webbing his leg again and causing him to slip and fall. Hobie then delivers a blow to the side of his face with his guitar, but thanks to his armor, it just hurts him more than anything.

Then Hobie hears hissing. He leaps up onto the ceiling just before a mechanical snake was about to sink its stupid metal fangs into him. “Made yourself friends ‘cause ya ain’t got any? I’d be gutted for you if ya weren’t such a dick,” Hobie says, webbing the snake and jumping off of the ceiling. He does a flip in midair, swinging the snake with him and throwing it at the Prowler. He dodges just in time, but Hobie is able to deliver another blow to him. This time, Hobie goes for his leg. And he hears a crack. Just as he wanted. The Prowler shrieks out in pain.

Hobie lands next to him and bends down. “Hope that hurt, fucker,” he spits, striking his other leg in the same fashion. He dodges the mechanical snake again, grabbing it and using his strength to break it in one squeeze. He throws it to the side and dodges more bullets from the Prowler’s gauntlets. Unsurprisingly, Hobie goes for both arms next. He stops when the man is rendered completely useless, rolling the Prowler over on his back. “I win,” Hobie says, and even he is taken aback at how menacing his voice sounds. The Prowler grunts, “You sure you’re a good guy?” Hobie ignores him and stands beside his head. “I do what I want. Any last words?”

The Prowler is silent for a moment before speaking. “Tell them that their boyfriend would have been able to save–”

Hobie doesn’t let him finish.

In fact, Hobie has trouble stopping even after he knows the deed is done. He didn’t even give Osborn this kind of disrespect. But this guy is different. All Hobie has to do is think about the state of your back, how you still blame yourself for what this motherfucker did to someone you cared so much about, and he’s swinging his guitar again.

He only stops when there’s nothing left to hit.

He breathes heavily, observing what he’s done in the flashing red lights as the alarm blares in the background. He walks back to the window, glancing back at what he’s done before leaping out and webbing away as fast as possible. He hopes no one saw him. Doesn’t want anyone confusing you for him.

He lands on your balcony and sees Shadow waiting for him inside the doors. He opens them and hears the cat meow at him. He leans down, giving him a few scratches, before opening a portal to his world. He goes home, falling on his bed. He groans, feeling the injuries he got for the first time. The adrenaline was keeping him going that entire fight. He gets up, and begins mending his injuries. Halfway through the last set of stitches he has to give himself, he gets a call on his watch from Miguel. He rolls his eyes, ready to get yelled at for, ‘interfering with the fate of the multiverse, yaddah yaddah yaddah blah blah blah boring boring boring.’

“Yeah, what d’ya want?” he answers, finishing up his stitches. “Get to Spider Society immediately.”

“I’m a little busy here, mate can it–”

“NO! It can’t wait, Hobie! Get here now!” Miguel screams, hanging up. Hobie groans. He was supposed to go back to your world so when you wake up, he would be there and explain why he did what he did. He could just go back… but then Miguel might show up in your world. And he sure as hell doesn’t want that. Sighing, he opens a portal to earth-2099, walking through and ending up in Miguel’s multi-screened research room. “Do you know what you did.”

“Killed a bloody villain, what of it?” Hobie asks, already annoyed. Miguel pounds his fist on the desk. “You interfered with (Y/n)’s timeline, Hobart!”

“I was protecting them!”

“YOU CREATED AN ANOMALY!” Miguel screams, and Hobie frowns. “How did I–”

“You killed a villain not a part of your own world, a villain who played a role in a major canon event of (Y/n)’s and now–”

“Would you come off it with the fuckin’ canon events?! Whatever it is will be resolved in one way or another!”

“Hobie you don’t understand–”

“He hurt them! Was I just supposed to stand around and let it happen?!”

“YES! We’re Spider-People it’s part of the job,” Miguel screams, and Hobie rolls his eyes. “I thought you hated them anyways, why did you want to protect them so bad?!” Miguel asks, and Hobie freezes. That… is actually a good question. He sees your injuries in his mind again and his frown deepens. Why did he want to protect you? Surely, he doesn’t… like you? No, he wouldn’t have done what he just did for a just a friend, though he would have still hunted the Prowler down. But the thought of him hurting you drove him to do unspeakable things… which he did. Is it… does he like you romantically?

His eyes widen. It would make sense if he felt that way. He was around you 24/7. These past two days were torture. He likes the way you challenge him. He likes the way you look, he likes the way you speak, he likes– “Hobie. Answer me.” His thoughts get cut off by Miguel, and he swallows hard. “I… I actually can’t answer that right now,” he says, and Miguel frustratedly runs his hand through his hair. “Hobie. What you just did…”

“Is bad, I know–”

“It’s not just bad. It’s detrimental.”

“What do you–”

“Do you know who you killed?” Miguel asks, and Hobie scoffs. “Obviously. I killed the Prowler, probably some variant of Aaron Davis or–”

“The Prowler on Earth-666 is not Aaron Davis,” Miguel says, frowning at him. “Did I kill Miles? You know his voice did sound kind of familiar…” Hobie asks, feeling a little worse about the way he handled the situation. “No. It wasn’t Miles, either.” Hobie looks up at Miguel, who takes a deep breath. “The Prowler on Earth-666 was Hobart Brown.”

Hobie feels like he just got hit with a pound of bricks. This is too much for him to process in one night. “I… what?”

“You just killed yourself.” Hobie shakes his head. “I–”

“He sounded familiar because he was you. Just without the English accent,” Miguel says. “Did (Y/n) know?” he asks, less concerned with the fact that he technically killed himself, and more concerned with the fact that he did all of those things to you. Miguel shakes his head no. “They didn’t. They were never supposed to know,” Miguel affirms, and Hobie lets out a shaky breath. He unclenches the fists he didn’t realize he formed. He feels the indents his nails made on his palms, but he doesn’t care. He was genuinely scared for a minute there. How would you react towards him if you know he was the one torturing you for so long? He nods. “Good.”

“There’s something else I need to tell you, Hobie,” Miguel says, and Hobie looks at him. “You changed a canon event. So far, the world seems stable… but you’re not going to like what will happen next,” Miguel says, turning away from him. Hobie jumps up to the platform Miguel is standing on. “Will (Y/n) be okay?” he sounds a little too frantic, and Miguel glances over at him. “You care too much for them.”

“Bollocks,” Hobie retorts, and Miguel sighs. “I knew you would like them,” he mumbles before pulling up information on your Earth onto the monitors. Hobie sees the Venom symbiote pop up and frowns. You haven’t had to deal with that yet. “The Venom symbiote was meant to bond to Hobart Brown on (Y/n)’s Earth. Now, the symbiote is going to bond to (Y/n), which is bad. This symbiote is unlike the other Venoms. It’s angrier. Deadlier. He would have been the worst enemy they ever had to face. I’ve been mentoring them as a secret way to help them train to be able to defeat him because… well…”

“Cause what?”

“Hobie Brown with the Venom symbiote would have been unstoppable,” Miguel says, turning to Hobie and delivering information that makes a chill run down his spine.

“Hobart Brown was meant to kill (Y/n) (L/n).”

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poisonheiress · 3 months

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Someone needs to say it: The "Heaven is actually bad" plot line that Hazbin is based around is useless when you spend more then 2 minutes thinking about Vivzie's Hell and her characters.

Besides it being much too early for this idea, the revelation that Heaven or at least the beings running it aren't good people has little to no impact when the people who are being harmed by this are all horrible people. Stay with me here. None of these people are people who were unfairly brought into hell and we are never ever introduced to someone who was either. Why should we care that Heaven is "evil" and blocking redemption when all the sinners in hell we see are the worst of the worst who would have never gotten in even if it was fair.

For the "Heaven is bad" plot line to actually work, you need people who were just one sin away from Heaven, who would've gotten into Heaven if circumstance hadn't forced them down a path that stole it from them. You need characters who aren't comedic villains but land in the middle of morally grey. Those who deserved to be in Heaven but because Heaven refused to consider their circumstances, they were tossed to burn with people much worse than them. Those are the people who should be your main cast cause those are the people who would actually be impacted by Heaven being bad/ Heaven lying.

Angel dust, for all his trauma, was still part of the mafia and likely had killed people before (showing to almost take joy in it). Husk became an overlord and gambled souls, so he had to have had blood on his hands before hell. Alastor is a serial killer, and the list goes on and on. Sure, these characters are (somewhat) interesting, but they don't make for good characters to have when the key plot line is that Heaven is a scam. Even if that fact is true, none of them were ever going to get there in the first place and this is something we also se in every single background sinner shown in Hell too. They were never close to getting there, so why would they or we care that Heaven is bad when all sinners are shown to be horrific people who are at best in the dark grey area of morality.

If you look at it from the "angel's are unfairly killing sinners" route, it still doesn't work. If the angels are killing them, what makes it different then the sinner on sinner violence that hell is full off? Why is them dying by angels this bad thing when they are just as likely if not 10x times more likely to get knifed in the back by other sinners in hell the other 364 days, especially when everyone here apparently is just as horrible as the next person. You cannot condemn the angels for killing demons and then make a joke of out sinners killing each other and never show sinners who doesn't want to kill people. Life either matters or it doesn't and when the main cast doesn't even show a care for life (outside of Charlie's who's entire flaw is her naivety), why should the audience.

On top of that, Vivzie's whole overpopulation aspect and the Heaven plot line would connect better if she actually had people like those I mentioned above, people who stole to survive but got tossed out cause stealing is technically wrong, people who killed another to protect someone else but were still sent to hell because even though they saved that person's life that person wasn't supposed to be saved, people who passively engaged in sins but never really did anything harmful under them. This would add into how Hell is so overpopulated and highlight why its so important that Heaven is evil/ why Charlie's plan isn't just a naive pathetic fever dream.

In the end, Vivzie should have never made Heaven the central plot of this show nor tried to assign this blatant good vs evil to that conflict. Neither her characters nor her writing choices are able to respond to this conflict in a way that will end or even tell the story in a satisfactory manner.

#anti hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel critical #vivziepop critical #spindlehorse critical #spindlehorse criticism #also I am not just talking out my ass for this #I had/have this same problem in one of my original works #where I had to make the relationship between Heaven and God and cambion a lot more complex then just oh this side bad this side good #and thats what you have to do as a fucking writer is ask the hard question and be ready to scrap characters and ideas to answer them #When you deal with human characters nothing is black vs white and the minute you claim it is #you have failed

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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 3 months

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you’re an angel, i’m a dog ; satoru gojo

synopsis; an upcoming exam has been stressing you out, and satoru’s pleas for you to take care of yourself fall on deaf ears. he takes matters into his own hands.

word count; 4.3k

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, yan!gojo, as far as yanderes go he’s very mild i think (im sensitive u can trust me!!), mentions of blood, implied murder (not depicted!!), he threatens your professor w a knife lol, surprisingly fluffy??, gojo is soooo lovesick & smitten, he just wants his baby to live a happy life :( is that so wrong :((, also your parents love him <33 and he calls you honey <333 ideal man.

a/n; i blacked out & when i woke up this was in my drafts… mysterious. @kissxcore here u go alexis <33 one very smitten morally gray yan!gojo just for u!! i completely lost the plot halfway through but i had a lot of fun writing this!! :33 i don’t dabble in yan content at all so it was a fun lil challenge hehe, i hope it ended up . Somewhat .. decent…

satoru thinks you deserve everything good.

”haah…”

— the sigh spills into the air, dripping with exhaustion, a palpable fatigue that has his heart clenching.

just as he feared, you’re here. again. seated on the couch, in the living room, legs crossed and framed by flimsy strings of moonlight; illuminated only by the dim light of the laptop in front of you. carding through your hair, blinking sluggishly.

another sigh. deep, exasperated — from satoru, this time. he keeps a single hand on his hip, brows furrowed in soft disappointment.

”honey… what do you think you’re doing?”

you jolt, the sudden sound breaking you out of whatever trance you were previously in. when your gaze flits to his, craning your head to see him rest against the wall leading up to your bedroom, he thinks you look a little like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

it makes him smile. despite his disapproval.

”ah — satoru! it’s… um.” a moment passes. he can practically see the gears of your mind turning, searching for a good excuse. ”… not what it looks like?”

he clicks his tongue. ”nice try.”

then he’s walking towards you, in long strides, gliding across the room like a butterfly in search of nectar. from the sweetest flower there ever was.

even when said flower is still awake, past midnight, pulling an all-nighter despite his frequent advice not to. his very frequent, very thoughtful advice not to strain yourself until you just about pass out.

but you just won’t listen.

”’m disappointed in you, baby,” he huffs, just playful enough to ward off any genuine feelings of distress. he could never truly be disappointed in his baby. ”what did we say about studying this late, hm?”

a sheepish chuckle slips past your lips. satoru is standing in front of you, hands on his hips, raising a questioning eyebrow as you squirm. lighthearted, yes, but genuine. it makes you feel a little guilty.

”… sorry,” you breathe, closing the lid of your laptop. knowing he won’t let you stay up any longer. with the loss of light, your face becomes shrouded in darkness. ”just can’t sleep when i’m so stressed.”

at that, satoru makes a tiny noise — something worried, a little sad, from the base of his throat. a soft frown finds its way onto his lips, and he blinks the sleep away from his senses. plopping down beside you.

”i know. i’m not trying to lecture you,” he croons, reaching out to cradle the apple of your cheek. you melt into him like molten honey, easy and sweet. ”just worried. know you’re stressed.”

and he does. he does know — it’s all he’s been able to think about, these past few weeks. to his dismay, he’s even begun to grow used to this sight, used to finding you in the midst of working yourself to exhaustion. fighting the urge to sleep, slumped over your desk, or cooped up on the couch. staring into your laptop like it holds the secrets of the universe.

time and time again, he’s told you to take care of yourself. tried to coax you into relaxing, rubbing your sore shoulders and kissing the puffy skin beneath your eyes. but this exam is important — you’ve told him as much, more times than he can count. he doesn’t doubt that you’re right.

of course you’d be stressed. he gets it.

still, though.

”but you know it’s not good, yeah? that it’ll just burn you out?” his thumb goes to smooth over the dark crescents beneath your eyes, gentle as a feather. ”we don’t want that, do we?”

you bite your lip. trapping it between your teeth. he knows you know. ”… yeah,” you admit, a flimsy little sigh on your tongue. ”it just feels easier to do this at night. don’t know why.”

”my little night owl.”

that makes you smile, a little, but it’s not enough to satisfy him. he curls an arm around your waist, and drags you into his lap; gentle, always gentle, like all that exists under your skin is made of porcelain. like the lines of your face form a string of words, a label of fragile: handle with care. he always does.

with his heartbeat by your ear, his warmth melting into yours, it’s easier to speak. a pressure on your chest that fades away. ”i’ll try not to do it again,” you murmur, biting back a soft yawn. nuzzling into his neck. ”promise. don’t wanna worry you…”

satoru softens.

(always so good to him.)

”it’s fine, honey. i understand.” he smiles, smoothing down your spine, counting the bumps of vertebra that slide along his palm. ”don’t worry that pretty little head of yours over me, alright?”

in return for his comfort, you wriggle away, lifting your head to give him a smile. one of your many smiles, each one fervently cherished by him; the one you’re wearing now is tired, a soft curl of your lips, the kind that makes him want to lull you to sleep. just the sight alone makes the anxiety in his veins feel like a worthy investment.

he doesn’t tell you anything that could cause that joy to diminish. doesn’t tell you that he can’t sleep without you, that he can barely breathe knowing you’re this stressed all time. doesn’t tell you that he jolted awake with a sinking feeling of dread, a gaping pit in his stomach when he didn’t immediately feel the warmth of your skin against his. doesn’t tell you that he always, always assumes the worst.

satoru doesn’t tell you these things. it’s a safety measure, an act of love. a bundle of unvoiced syllables, woven into white lies, silky and sweet. tailor-made to put your aching mind at ease.

satoru thinks you deserve everything good.

it’s a theory, of sorts, a train of thought. a hypothesis made manifest. after many years of pondering, he’s arrived at the following conclusion; you are all that’s good. therefore, it only follows that you deserve everything that’s good, all of it and more. satoru believes you deserve every single thing your little heart desires — and he’s determined to give it to you.

so he’s been worried.

it’s not that he doesn’t trust you. he knows you’ll ace the exam, knows you’ll do your very best, knows you’ll make him proud. you always do. you aren’t the problem, no, never.

he just doesn’t trust your professor.

that unfair, stuck-up, incompetent professor who’d fail his students just for being a couple minutes late, who curates his exams to be as convoluted as humanly possible. you and your friends are starting to suspect he just likes berating people for a living. satoru knows it all, he’s heard it all, of course he has. satoru pays attention to everything, when it comes to you. he knows all about your professor, the man who’s been making your studies pure hell for the past semester.

it makes his blood boil. steady, ruminating, hot and heavy in his veins. a rivulet of lava.

(it was only a matter of time.)

satoru is a teacher too; he knows that type. one that has no business being a teacher, in the first place, one no student deserves to be subjected to. he’s met more of them in his career than he could even begin to count. the thought of one of his own students being at the mercy of someone so incompetent makes his skin itch.

and the thought of you, seated on the couch, crying and sniffling when he comes home because none of the exam questions made enough sense for you to even try —

it makes satoru want to claw his skin off.

it makes that tiny, tiny cavern in his heart extend, widen, like a maw, swallowing up his liver and lungs and sense of morality. an emptiness begging to be filled.

there’s only one way to satiate it.

so he plants a wet kiss on your forehead, ruffles your hair, tucks you into bed and waits until you fall asleep. deep and heavy, a slumber you won’t wake up from anytime soon. he presses his lips to your forehead one more time — for good measure.

then he grabs his coat and slips outside.

the moon is visible through the window.

a thin crescent, nailed next to the dim stars, leaking a dream-like fluorescent shine; illuminating the office, so quiet he can hear those erratic breaths spill out, one by one. a heavy, heavy silence, thick enough to spread like butter over toast.

(ah, that’s right — he forgot to buy the butter you asked for this morning. no wonder he feels so out of sorts. he’ll have to grab it on his way back.)

”who… w — what are — ?”

satoru stays silent. lips pursed, eyes keen, burning into the back of the man in front of him. close, almost chest to back, enough to have him scowling in displeasure.

just being in his presence makes satoru feel a little sick.

he keeps the blade pressed right beneath his adam’s apple, a silver glimmer in an office painted blue and gray. not enough to sink into his skin, but enough to have his heartbeat hammering, enough that satoru can practically feel those rapid flutters of life. brushing against his gloved hand.

he gets straight to the point. voice muffled by the fabric covering his mouth, low enough that it’s barely even audible. he’s careful, about this kind of thing. there’s a delicacy to the ill intent, something he’d be a little enamored with if it weren’t for the compass stuffed into his ribs — the compass that tells him this is wrong.

he just can’t bring himself to care.

”the upcoming exam.” his voice sends a shiver down the man’s spine. satoru can feel it. ”don’t fail a single student.”

silence. pure silence, suffocating them, tangling itself into the air. satoru can practically taste it — fear, familiar, that pang of panic. a ticking time-bomb. the knife stays pressed against warm skin, pushing, sinking, just a little, a drop of red against his pale throat.

it’s enough to get your professor to make a little noise, one that vaguely resembles a whine. like that of a small animal, rolling over on its belly, eager to play dead. no word is spoken in reply, but he nods, just barely, a nervous tremble of his head.

satoru hums, approving. ”good.” he doesn’t loosen his grip. ”there’s a particular student i’m worried about. marked them down in the catalogue... i’m counting on you.”

another noise. a grunt of affirmation, a silent plea — satoru allows that fear to seep into his own bones, just a little, just to get a taste of it. cold on his tongue. he wonders if this is what helplessness feels like.

then he takes a step back. slow, tentative, dragging the knife with him. not before parting his lips once more. ”don’t turn around,” he warns. ”i’ll be back if there are any complications. this’ll be our little secret, hm?”

the man in front of him doesn’t say a thing. frozen in fear, paralyzed, not moving an inch. a fly trapped in his web. it’s a relief.

before he exits the room, satoru puts the final nail in the coffin. just in case. ”i happen to know what school your daughter goes to.” he waits for a flinch, and it comes almost instantly. like clockwork. “remember that.”

it’s an empty threat. your professor doesn’t know that, though. he doesn’t know that satoru knows his daughter, that he walks past her preschool almost every morning on his way to work. that she waves to him whenever he passes by, and that he makes it a point to always wave back. a little troublemaker; the rowdiest of utahime’s preschoolers. she has a bubbly laugh, and just lost one of her milk teeth. she was giddy when she showed him, a bout of giggles spilling from her lips as he cooed and ruffled her hair.

he wouldn’t lay a finger on her.

but your professor doesn’t know that, hasn’t got a single clue, and satoru delights in the fear that must be running through his veins. down his spine, crawling into every narrow of his skeleton, making a home for itself that he’ll never quite be able to root out.

a gulp. satoru hears it, in the quiet of nightfall, just before he shuts the door behind him. good.

the rest of the evening is a blur. satoru gets home, relieved to find you still asleep, and tucks you into his chest. makes a mental reminder to order your favorite take out tomorrow; a little reward for your hard work.

finally, he can sleep easy. knowing you’ll get what you deserve.

three weeks later, satoru places his hand on the familiar doorknob in front of him, dragging his weight behind him. blinking sluggishly.

there’s a sinking feeling in his chest, weighing him down — like an anchor tied to his liver. a compass, tucked between his fourth and fifth rib, one that’ll always stay lodged right there. he’s learned to grow used to it, a natural consequence, a sign that his humanity is still intact.

that doesn’t make it any less bothersome, though.

(ridding the world of a pest shouldn’t make him feel dirty. especially when he felt nothing but contempt for the pest in question, for the way he whistled as you walked by, the words he spewed before satoru met his eye. vile. putrid. why should he feel guilty for wiping a stain off the pavement?

it does make him feel dirty, though. a sinking feeling in his chest.)

there’s nothing to be done about it. satoru swallows the unpleasant taste on his tongue, and drags the door open, closing it behind him with a softness he reserves for you alone.

and there you are.

on the couch, farther away, already looking his way — lips instantly curling up into what he knows will be a smile. this time, it’s laced with excitement. one of his personal favorites. his gaze devours the joy in your features, the glimpse he gets of your teeth, that familiar crinkle of your eyes.

you’re smiling. at him. you smile and his world wakes up, it’s dyed in different shades of blue, it’s brimming with life and love and something too good not to kill for. you smile and everything is right, good, worth it. you smile and it's as if the blood has been washed off his hands.

suddenly, all is well again. satoru exhales a blissful little breath.

“‘m home, honey,” he grins, a light pink dusting his cheeks, hanging his coat up before turning to face you. arms wide open. “did you miss me?”

his heartbeat stutters when you practically engulf him, all giddy giggles and that perfect smile, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. “mhm,” is what you chirp, pressing kisses down his collarbone, and he has to bite down on his lip to stop the shivers trailing down his spine. he tastes iron, but laps it up with a coo. sickly-sweet.

“missed you too, precious,” he purrs. “sorry i was gone for so long — had to take care of something.”

he cups the back of your skull with his palm, large and crafted just to hold you, and marvels at how much you trust him. how you’re melting into his chest, fitting into every crevice of his heart. he wants to keep you there forever. forever and ever, always within reach, always close enough to touch.

but he also wants you to be happy. he wants to see you run away, wherever the wind takes you, if only so he’ll get to feel you jump into his arms again, when you’ve had your fill of the world. when you come home to him, where you both belong.

satoru would never cage you in. never, never, never. he wants you to enjoy your life — confining you wouldn’t do any good, would only stifle that pretty smile he loves so dearly. he wants your world to be large, brimming with life, blooming with fervor, wants the air to be clear enough for your beautiful lungs. he couldn’t build a world for you, here, in this apartment. no matter how big or luxurious.

so his only option is to bend the world into a kinder shape — twist and mold until it forms a path good enough for you to follow.

(it’s worth it, he knows, he’ll always know. it’s worth it to see that smile.)

“is that a new coat?” you ask, naive and innocent, and it breaks him out of his thoughts, attention wired to the lilt of your voice.

“yeah.” it’s stylish, expensive, a nice shade of black. he had to throw the last one away. “looks nice, right? i’ll get you the same one, pretty.”

“you don’t have to, toru!” you hurriedly exclaim, knowing he’ll jump at the opportunity to spoil you. “i like the one i have now!”

satoru pouts. a soft huff, right by your ear. “you don’t wanna wear matching coats?” he feigns sadness, scratching softly at your scalp, drinking up the little purrs that bubble up in your throat.

and you giggle. you giggle and all he can think is worth it, worth it, worth it. a stained coat or two means nothing. the blood on his hands is just insurance.

“well, when you put it like that…” you shift a little, curling your arms around his neck, breathing him in. he wonders if you can smell the cleaning detergent. “i guess i wouldn’t mind a new coat.”

and he grins. like clockwork. “right? want me to buy you new shoes while i’m at it? some jewelry?” he peppers kisses down your neck, amusement laced in his voice. “the whole store?”

again, those giggles. again and again. he laps them up like fine wine. “okay, that’s too much.”

“but you deserve it!” he whines, sickeningly sweet. sick to his stomach with love. “been working so hard, my angel.”

and, suddenly — you light up. his little firefly. brightening, inhaling a giddy breath. pulling away, a little, and he does his best to bite back the frown on his face. you’re practically beaming, sunshine personified, eyes glittering with giddy joy.

“right! i almost forgot!”

then you’re skipping away, happily, to retrieve your phone. and he knows what you’re going to show him, but still feigns surprise when he sees the score on your exam, that perfect 100 on the screen. still makes an expression of shock that he knows will get you to laugh, still picks you up and spins you around and tells you how proud he is.

he almost, almost feels bad, seeing you smile so wide; at what you assume to be the fruits of your own labour. almost feels ashamed, knowing that perfect 100 wouldn’t exist without the knife at your professor’s throat.

but, then again, this is how it should be. those numbers are the fruits of your own labour, because satoru is a part of you. and you deserve it, deserve it more than anyone — he knows you would have gotten it, even without his help, if your professor was competent enough to see your brilliance.

satoru smiles. he is proud of you. and this is exactly how it should be. he’s just bending the world into its rightful shape, cutting strings from a wrongly woven web, righting the wrongs of the people around you.

you, you, you. the only thing that exists.

all of him is for you.

”i knew you could do it. never doubted you for a second, baby,” he smiles, so wide his cheeks hurt, and you return it with a kiss to his jaw.

”thank you. i’m just so relieved,” you exhale a breath, heavy, and it’s like he can practically see the stress melting, slipping from your shoulders and eyes. worth it, worth it, worth it. ”gosh. i’m gonna sleep like the dead tonight.”

”as you should,” satoru chirps, pinching your side. softly, brimming with fondness. ”but before that, we’re gonna celebrate. all day. and tomorrow too!”

another smile coaxed from your lips; this time, it’s a little bit shy. bashful, at the praise, his endless excitement. so precious he wants to kiss you breathless. give you all the air in his lungs.

so precious that he forgets about everything else.

this is what you always do to him; wrap him up in a blanket of your love, cloud his veins with a nectar so sweet he takes the leap into your arms without a second thought. a foolish, lovesick butterfly, sticking to a single rose; dripping with honey, overflowing. the butterfly is too drunk on love to care.

you’re his flower, his joy, the most useful form of anesthesia. with you in his veins, on his mind, your lips on his jaw — satoru can pretend that his hands are clean. that they always have been.

it all slips from his mind. your professor, the creep who catcalled you, that one classmate you’ve been complaining about recently. he forgets that they even exists, and satoru thinks that must be what love is: something that narrows your world down until you can make a home out of it.

(something worth cherishing, no matter the cost.)

as always, it’s your voice that snaps him out of the trance he’s in. turning around at the sound of your call, the orpheus to your eurydice, too in love to save you from himself. you’re both getting ready to head out, dressing up for a well-deserved date.

satoru feels himself smile. he does the dirty work, and you get to reap the rewards. heaven on earth.

“oh, by the way! would you want to have dinner with my parents tomorrow?” you meet his absent gaze with a tilt of your head. “they’ve been asking about you again. it’s such a headache, seriously.”

satoru giggles, barely containing how delighted he is. raising a playful brow. “oh? grumpy that you aren’t the favorite child anymore, hm?”

“okay, first of all —“ you stifle a giggle, pulling a drawer open, rummaging through it. freshly washed clothes. he washes most of your things. “you aren’t their child. and second of all —“

“— yet.”

a pause.

satoru watches your gaze flick over to him, then back to the drawer, collecting yourself. a cute flush to your cheeks. “… whatever.” you clear your throat. “second of all — i don’t like how much they like you. what kinda spell did you put them under? it’s always satoru this, satoru that!”

a huff fills the air, and you mutter something that sounds a little like mocking, an obnoxiously imitated where’s satoru? that makes him chuckle into his fist.

he shrugs. “i’m just a natural charmer, y’know? and, for the record; i would love to have dinner with them.” he sends you a wink, playful, and you roll your eyes. “are you joining us?”

a bout of laughter pushes past your lips, and satoru thinks he could die happy — just soaking up the joy that spills from out your throat. he wishes he could live in it, paint your house in it, wear it. he wants your joy to be all he ever feels. he feels sick at the idea of ever being out of earshot for it.

“yes, i’m joining you.” your scoff is dripping with humour. ”i’d hate to be the fourth wheel, but it is what it is.”

satoru stifles a grin. ”lucky me. three beauties all to myself,” he drawls, a seductive lilt to his voice, just to hear that little noise you always make with the back of your throat. vaguely disgusted.

”you’re so gross.”

a coo. like the buzzing of a bee. ”don’t be jealous, honey. know you’re my favorite, don’t you?” satoru smiles — more sincere than you’ll ever know. ”could never love anyone else.”

”so my parents are in second place?” you quirk a brow, amusement lacing your words, and he clicks his tongue.

”well, they made you. i’d have to be a fool not to worship artists of such caliber.”

”charmer.”

”yours.” the word is a knife at his throat, a stain on his coat, a love so heavy it’ll burn him alive. ”only yours.”

and again, you smile. all he can think is that you deserve everything, everything that’s good, everything he could ever give you. it’s all he can think as you go about your day, as he leads you outside, as he watches a flicker of joy dance within your iris. as he watches you walk wherever your heart takes you.

the thought remains when you return home, when you wrap yourselves up in blankets and he throws a leg over your waist and you curl an arm around his ribcage. it’s all he can think.

satoru was born to be of service — to someone, to the world, to something or another. he was born to carry a weight on his back.

so why not bear the weight of your burdens?

all he wants is to protect you. all he’ll ever need is that smile on your face. he was always bound to be just this: a dog at your heels, a halo around your head, the watchful eye keeping you safe from everything rotten in this world. he’s the butterfly, the spider, the web itself. and he’ll never let you be tangled up in it.

he was born to be of service to you. so service you he will, until it all comes back to bite him.

“satoruuu — stop stealing the blanket!”

he prays it never will.

#im a lil unsure how to feel abt this piece i feel like it lost its flow pretty quickly 😔👉👈but i rlly did have fun writing it hehe #my baseline for yan!gojo is basically; a kind man who’s so in love w u that he’s willing to compromise his own morals to keep u safe #he’s not particularly possessive or even obsessive?? to him violence really is just . a necessary means to keep u happy #this is almost definitely the only yan piece ill ever write bUT im very fond of this gojo … he’s a tortured little meowmeow <33 #cw yandere #yandere gojo #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #gojo fluff #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #tw yandere

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agustdiv1ne · 10 months

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.𖥔 ݁ ˖12:43 a.m. (m) — choi yeonjun

genre: smսt (minors/ageless blogs dni), angst for flavor, fluff, friends to lovers, alcohol consumption (so somewhat tipsy sex warning!!), this has more plot and is much longer than i initially expected but it is still very self-indulgent LOL

wc: 2.9k

“you should talk to him.”

the sound of beomgyu's voice a concerningly close distance from your ear causes you to flinch, a bit of the drink in your hand sloshing over the side of the can and onto the already sticky floor. tearing your eyes away from yeonjun, you meet beomgyu's half-lidded gaze; he's drunk, painfully so — and a drunk beomgyu means a considerably more irritating beomgyu.

“why are you over here?” you say, waving your drink around the dark corner of the living room that you staked claim on earlier in the night after chaewon had bailed on you. “shouldn’t you be, like, making out with someone by now?”

“well, you looked miserable, so i decided to be a good friend ‘n come check on you first,” he grins, stumbling when he tries to lean closer and bar you from staring at the man across the room. with a huff, you shove him away and help situate himself against the wall next to you.

“my hero,” you deadpan, blocking out whatever half-baked words beomgyu spews out next in favor of watching yeonjun, your lips pursing as he laughs along with the group of guys surrounding him.

you must admit, he looks...amazing tonight. a light grey tank top allows you a perfect view of his muscle-thickened arms. loose-fitting jeans lay low on his hips, and you catch a peak of his toned stomach and the band of his boxers when he lifts a hand to high-five someone. the self-assured smirk on his lips has not left since you first spotted him. it's almost infuriating; you wonder how he seems so okay, uncaring, after what happened, while your life has all but fallen apart without his presence. you never knew how losing a close friend — okay, a close friend who you have not-so-platonic feelings for — could be so harrowing. until now. the urge to cry and run away battles with the gnawing impulse to stomp up to him and yell straight into his stupid fucking face. you bite the inside of your cheek.

the boy next to you flicks your forehead. “quit staring like a creep and go to talk to him.”

“um, no. i’m pretty sure he hates me now,” you reply, finally looking over at him. “we haven’t talked since last week.”

“since the incident,” beomgyu adds, nodding sagely, before he takes another large swig of the suspiciously bright green liquid in his cup. slouching further against the wall, you shoot him a scalding glare. in response, he simply laughs, the sound squeaky and borderline grating, as leans his head against your shoulder.

it's quiet between the two of you for a few minutes, in which you stare at the small dents that have appeared on the can in your hand due to your unrelenting grip. you can feel the effects of the two drinks you have consumed beginning to kick in: your mind is a little less cluttered, your muscles releasing their built-up tension as warmth flows through your veins. you're still acutely aware of your surroundings — you are not as far-gone as beomgyu, that's for sure — but your situation does feel slightly less dire now that a bit of alcohol flows through your system.

“uh oh,” beomgyu mumbles over the music, leaning up to bring his mouth closer to your ear. “look who’s comin’ over.” glancing up, you find the very person you would rather not speak to making a beeline straight towards the two of you. the carefree expression he sported prior is long gone, replaced with furrowed brows and downturned lips.

you sober up immediately. panicking, you shove beomgyu off of you, ignoring the quiet “oof!” he emits as collides with the wall. he scoffs. “what’re you doin’?”

“leaving,” you mutter, ignoring the slight blur to your vision as you push through the crowd toward the dimly lit hallway that you know contains a bathroom.

without even turning around, you can tell that yeonjun is hot on your trail. you pray that the bathroom is unoccupied — and when you reach it, you luckily find that it is. slipping past the door as quickly as you can, aiming to slam the door and lock it, but a foot shoves it way past the jamb before you can fully execute your plan. you curse under your breath as yeonjun shoves his way inside, clicking the door shut behind him.

for a moment, you and him stare wordlessly at each other. in this light, you are able to see the light flush across his cheekbones from the alcohol, the dark roots of his hair that have grown out since you helped him dye it a couple weeks ago. being confronted by him in this manner makes both your heart ache and your blood boil.

“why are you here?” you spit, breaking the suffocating silence. his blank expression does not falter despite your venom-drenched tone. instead, he crosses his arms in front of him, his biceps bulging, and props himself against the wall across the counter that you presently lean on.

“why was beomgyu so close to you?” he does not answer your question, rather asks one of his own, a slight slur to his words. red tinges the edge of your vision at his blatant disregard of your query. it’s none of his business, not after what he did.

“i don’t think that really concerns you,” you decide to say. “why the fuck do you care, anyway?”

“you know why,” he prods, and the dull ache in your chest grows thorns, puncturing your lungs. your nails dig into your palms in an attempt to ground yourself. he seems to notice.

“no, actually i don’t, yeonjun.” yeonjun. it’s his name, but it is scathing coming from your lips. jjun, jjunie, anything but yeonjun. please. “please, enlighten me as to why you care if my friend is touching me.”

“because i want it to be me instead.”

the dam holding your feelings back explodes.

“you want it to be you, huh?” you laugh humorlessly. “you kiss me, eat me out, fall asleep next to me, then what? throw our it all in the trash? act like i don’t exist? real fucking funny, yeonjun. what a great way to treat one of your closest friends.”

he gapes at you, silent, while you wait for him to say something, anything. taking his lack of response as your cue to leave, you reach for the doorknob, only for his hand to envelop yours. his warm chest collides with your cheek, and his arms wrap around your waist. he buries his nose into the crown of your head.

“i’m sorry,” you hear him murmur, his arms curling around you tighter, and you can’t find it within yourself to break away from his grip. “i was so fucking terrified that you thought that what happened last night was a mistake. that i would lose you forever, i,” his breath stutters in his chest. you feel it against your skin. “i don’t want to lose you. you mean too much to me for that to happen.”

you push away from his chest, finding nothing but sincerity shining in his umber eyes. “why couldn’t you have just talked to me?” your next sentence tumbles out of your mouth before you can stop yourself. “don’t you know how long i’ve loved you?”

the gape of his mouth makes your heart race. you feel as if you have confessed something that you should not have. and yet you push forward. “yes, love. how could i ever possibly think that that was a mistake when it’s always ever been you?”

it takes him a few seconds to process your words, and you watch as his expression morphs from confused, to shocked, to...wait, is he smiling?

“can i kiss you?” he asks. the air vacates you lungs at the hopeful quirk of his lips. your resolve breaks and you allow a small nod. that’s all it takes for him to surge forward and his lips to envelope yours. it feels intrinsically different from the kisses you shared last week — no longer fueled by drunken lust and raging hormones, no teeth knocking against each other, and no sense of urgency. slow, soft, he takes his time in savoring the way you taste of your favorite lip balm mixed with the seltzer you had finished off before you tried to escape from him. gentle hands rub soothing circles against your waist while you pull him closer by wrapping your arms around his neck.

he pulls away. “i love you.” kiss. “i love you.” kiss. “i love you.”

the movement of your lips against each other grows increasingly aggressive as you continue. needy, wanting to feel each and every contour, savor every breath each other emits. he breaks away again to kiss down your neck. when you whine, the energy in the room shifts. silently, he urges you up onto the counter, your legs dangling off the edge as he slips his body between your thighs. he finds your lips once more. his hands rest upon your hips, squeezing every so often. this time, you're the one to stop him with a gentle push to his chest.

“wait,” you say as he whines and tries to pull you in again. your fingers splay across his broad chest. you nearly gulp at the sight before you’re shaking the thought away. “you’ve been drinking. i don’t want—”

“baby, i’m fine,” he interrupts. your heart flutters at the pet name. “i wanted to be able to talk to you tonight, so i had, maybe, three drinks? i’m tipsy at most — do i seem drunk? do you feel drunk? we can stop.”

“well, no, you don’t. and i drank less than you,” you admit. “i’d like to keep going...i’m just worried, um, after last time. i don’t want this to be another fluke.” your voice grows incredibly smaller as you speak, trailing off at the very end as you realize how stupid you must sound.

“baby, look at me,” he says, cupping your face. there’s a little haze in his gaze, but the sincerity in his pupils is as clear as day. you know that you look the exact same. “this will never, and i mean never, happen again. you’re mine, and i am yours. if you think i was attached to your hip before, you’re never gonna get rid of me now.”

you giggle at his joking tone, your body the lightest it’s been all night, and you reach down to guide his hands to your thighs. “then make me feel good, jjunie.”

his goofy smile turns sharp at the edges at your words, his fingers digging into your flesh as he leans down to nip and suck at the skin of your neck, your collarbones, his lips trailing down to the valley of your breasts. hands slide underneath your shirt, and you tug at his hair as he slips it off of you, making quick work of your bra. he guides the straps down your arms and off completely, leaving you bare from the waist up. he stares in awe, capturing your hands before you can cover yourself.

“so fucking pretty,” he mumbles, pressing a gentle peck against your wrist. “wanna make you feel good forever.”

“that’s a long time— oh, fuck!” you cut yourself off when his plush lips wrap around one of your nipples, playing with the bud as it pebbles beneath his tongue. he hums, and shockwaves travel straight down to your core. he switches to the other tit, his thumb circling the one that he left.

“jjun,” you moan despite his unrelenting ministrations to your breasts. “fuck me, please.”

he stands up at his full height, peering down at your desperate, needy expression with slight amusement. “yeah? you want my cock?”

“so bad,” you whisper, kiss bruised lips smeared with lipstick and spit. “please?”

he groans. “you drive me crazy.”

he falls to his knees in front of you, helping you remove your shorts and panties. a shaky exhale falls from his mouth when he sees just how soaked you are. a finger slides through your folds, collecting your wetness before bringing to his tongue. he visibly shudders.

“know you want me to fuck you, but i need to taste you first,” he mumbles, more to himself than to you before he dives in with an enthusiasm that is akin to whenever he dances, lips wrapping around your clit and sucking, hands holding open your thighs as you whimper and try to close them around his head. he’s desperate to make you cum, to bring you a level of pleasure that you’ve never experienced before. it doesn’t take you long to fall over the edge, but he does not let up until you begin to push his head away from your center.

“okay, okay,” he laughs as he stands again, taking his tank top off in the process. you gape at the sight, the hard planes of his chest, his defined biceps. it makes you wonder just how strong he is, how he could throw you around and have his way with you — another time. another time.

you reach down to palm him through his jeans, eliciting a whine from him. unbuttoning and unzipping, he helps your shove both his jeans and boxers down until his pretty, pink-tipped cock slaps against his abdomen, achingly hard and sensitive. your fingers immediately wrap around it and begin to stroke up and down, thumb collecting the precum that has collected at the tip. he bucks in your hand once before he's grabbing your hand.

condom?” he asks, and you shake your head, telling him about your birth control. he makes sure with you once again before he leans in to kiss you again, the head of his cock sliding through your folds, sliding against your throbbing clit. finally — finally — he lines up with your soaked entrance. “ready, love?”

humming, you roll your hips forward, and he hisses out a quiet "so impatient," before his hips slowly push forward, stretching your walls as you adjust to the intrusion. both of you moan at the feeling, hands flying everywhere to feel each other. he takes it slow at first, the rolling of his hips into you rhythmic and gentle — but you crave more, need him to fuck you like he means it, to take all that you're giving him and returning just as much to you.

“faster, harder, jjunie,” you pant against his lips. “wanna feel you deeper.”

“god, fuck,” he curses, your dirty words spurring him on. “don’t fuckin’, ngh, talk like that. gonna make me cum.”

his gaze grows hazy as he thrusts into you, your own eyes glazed over, both of you overwhelmed by the sensation of your walls snugly wrapped around him and him stretching you so perfectly. the pretty flush that was once contained to his cheeks has spread out across the rest of his face and down his neck, locks of his dusty rose-orange hair sticking to his forehead. you cup his cheeks and bring your foreheads together. he watches as your eyes roll back into your head after a certain thrust, so he angles his hips to press into that spot again. and again. and again. your cute little whines and moans of his name motivate him to maintain that pace.

“yeah? right there?” he queries, already knowing the answer. “so fucking cute, baby. this pussy was made for me, hm? all mine?”

“a-all yours!” you parrot, the words feeding into your dizzy state. the tendrils of an orgasm begin to wrap around you, your legs beginning to quake. you reach down to play with your clit. desperation laces your next words. “gonna cum, jjunie! please make me cum!”

he's groaning at the sight of you falling apart when your second high of the night hits. a string of curses tumbles from his mouth as his thrusts grow sloppy, his hips slapping hard against the inside of your thighs. he thrusts once, twice more before he spills inside you with a high-pitched whine, burying his head in the junction between your neck and shoulder as he holds you close to him.

“my baby,” he whispers tenderly with a quick peck to your lips when you finally come down. you chase his lips for a longer one, and he concedes easily to your silent demand. you’re smiling like fools at each other as you pull away. “never gonna let you go.”

“my jjunie,” you coo back, holding his face between your palms. you lean in to capture his lips again when a knock startles both of you. you scramble for your crumpled clothes on the floor — until you realize exactly who it is on the other side.

“are the two of you done fucking?” beomgyu’s distinct voice calls. “i need to puke.”

“way to ruin the moment,” yeonjun grumbles, and you chuckle, wiping off the stray lipstick on your face before you’re turning to him, legs still a bit shaky.

“i guess we should help him?” you say.

squeezing your waist, he pulls you closer with a sly grin. “nah, he can manage. i have my lovely little girlfriend to take care of.”

masterlist

#txt smut #yeonjun smut #txt x reader #yeonjun x reader #txt imagines #txt drabbles #yeonjun drabbles #yeonjun imagines #txt hard thoughts #txt hard hours #agust.nsfw #💌 — jjun

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cosmosis · 11 months

Text

MOVED TO @seratopia

miles morales x reader - purple

miles takes you out to get slushies

You’re in the zone, notebooks and textbooks laid out, pens scattered everywhere, music from your headphones blasting in your headphones. You’re studying in your dorm, nodding your head to the music while you scratch down a few notes on paper.

Midterms are coming up, and you’re studying hard. Students have been clawing their way through classes like zombies, grunting and sighing to themselves like half-dead corpses.

It’s already dark outside, the only source of light in your room being the technicolor laptop screen in front of you. You hear a beeping and occasional crash outside, but that’s just New York.

At first, you don’t hear the knocking on your window, too endorsed in your music to notice. It’s only when the knocking gets louder and faster that you pause your study session.

Hesitantly pulling down your headphones, you look towards your glass window. You recognize that black suit anywhere, the one that looks like he’s bleeding from his armpits.

It’s Miles.

You get up from your desk chair, flipping the lock on the window and pushing the glass pane all the way up. Like the thousands of times he’s done before, Miles crawls through your window, stepping onto the soft carpet of your dorm.

He’s been getting bigger, stronger, lately. Only shame of that is the fact that it’s harder for him to fit through your window.

Miles dusts himself off, and you spread your arms wide for a hug with a smile on your face. He practically lands into you, squeezing you tight and forcing the air out of your lungs. He’s so happy to see you.

He sighs into your hair.

“M’ glad you’ve been keeping your window locked.“

“You said you hated it yesterday.“

“Shhh....“

The two of you unclasp, and Miles tugs his mask off his face. He presses a kiss to your temple, shifting his gaze towards the array of study materials on your desk.

“Midterms?“

“Yep.“ You say, popping the “p.“

Miles ponders for a moment, peering from the bags under your eyes to the impossibly large stack of papers on your study space. Subconsciously, he kneads a hand into your side.

“Hey, you wanna go somewhere?“

“Miles, it’s 10 at night.“

“How bout’ the 7-Eleven down the street?“

“Mmmm....“

“I’ll keep you safe. You’re lookin’ at the one and only Spiderman.“ Miles says, gesturing to himself with a smirk.

You playfully roll your eyes. “Alright. I think I need a break anyway.”

“For real.“ Miles mutters.

Miles scouts your dorm room for a jacket, maybe some sweatpants. He usually leaves clothes at your dorm anyway. You throw a pair of grey sweatpants at his head, but he catches them in his fist. Over his suit, Miles throws on a jacket, slotting his legs through the sweatpants.

It’s cold out, so you throw on a jacket, putting on slippers over your fuzzy socks. Miles shoves his mask back on just so his identity is concealed. If anyone asks, Spiderman was just saving a person who got lost

“C’mere.“ Miles says, his arms already out near your window.

You gingerly rise up on your tip-toes, wrapping your arms around Miles’s neck. He slots one hand onto the lower curve of your back, and the other where your thighs and calves meet, carrying you in a somewhat twisted princess carry.

Miles carefully inches through your tiny apartment window, and you duck your head down to make sure you don’t hit it on the way out.

Your heart already pumping in your veins, Miles jumps out into the open air, one hand slinging the both of you through Brooklyn, the other slotted underneath your upper thighs to keep you from plummeting to the ground.

You never really admit it, but you love when Miles slings you both places. The wind in your face, Miles holding you close, the sounds of New York. You adore it.

It’s not very long before the ride ends, and Miles pulls lands in a very suspicious alleyway.

“I knew you were plotting against me all along.“ You joke, and he sets you down onto the concrete. He yanks his mask off, shoving it into his jacket pocket.

The florescent lights of the 7-Eleven glow a bright white, as if it were it’s own sun. Miles pulls the door open for you, such a gentleman. You step inside, and Miles gives a nod to the cashier.

“Ooh! Slushies.“ You say, staring at the almost hypnotizing swirl of neon colors in the tank. It’s so inviting, the perfect thing to have at 10pm.

Miles already helps himself, grabbing a cup and handing one to you. As you suspect, Miles gets the blue flavor, while you get the red cherry cola. You can hear the light pop and sizzle of the slush as it pours, making you all the more thirsty.

You take a sip, and you sigh in enjoyment.

“You want anything else?“ Miles asks, and you shake your head no. He guides you with a hand on your back to the cashier counter, and the man already starts typing in the order.

Miles reaches into both jacket pockets, but no avail.

“Shit, forgot my wallet.“

A.K.A, Miles doesn’t keep his wallet on him during patrol.

“All good man, on the house.“

“Thanks, man.“

You nod, and Miles reaches his arm past your head, pushing the door open in front you. The cold air of Brooklyn engulfs you, and you can nearly see your breath cloud up.

Slowly, the both of you talk, inching back towards the dark alleyway from before. On your tip-toes again, you press a chilled kiss to Miles’s chin.

“Thanks, Miles.“

“I didn’t even buy it.“ He chuckles, shamelessly pulling you into him after taking another sip of his slush.

One thing leads to another, and Miles starts kissing you, starting from your cheeks but eventually leading down to your lips. Simultaneously, he draws you in and holds his slush with the same hand, using the other to bury it in your hair.

Miles chuckles into your mouth; it’s fun to kiss when you taste like cherry cola. Miles is taken by surprise when you boldly prod your tongue into his mouth, a blush rising high onto his face. With the slight privacy of the alleyway, Miles feels brave enough prod and poke your lips with his teeth.

When you finally let go, Miles’s face is warm in contrast to the cold air, almost hot to the touch. It’s rare when you two ever truly swap spit, but Miles thinks its special when you do.

Its a bit silent for a moment after, but neither of you can stop smiling. Miles in particular can’t stop touching you all over.

A thought pops into your head.

You rummage through your pockets for your phone, switching it on and pressing the button to activate your flashlight.

“Miles, open your mouth.“

“Woah, babe, didn’t know you were into th-“ He jokes.

“Oh my gosh Miles, it’s not that.“

Miles chuckles. He loves poking at you. As he was told, he opens his mouth, and you point the flashlight at it. You start laughing to yourself, the light of the flash flickering everywhere.

“What? Is it my face?“

“No, look!“ You pull up the selfie mode on your phone, using the brightness of your phone to the best of it’s ability. You press your cheek to Miles, sticking your tongue out for the camera.

“It’s purple!“ You cackle, and Miles starts chuckling along with you.

There’s spots on Miles’s tongue that are deeper in blue, but still nonetheless a lavender color. You giggle, snapping a few photos.

“We should try again but with different colors.” Miles smirks, slyly resting his head against your temple.

You smirk. “Just tell me you wanna make out more, Miles.”

He shrugs, dropping an arm around your shoulders. “Hmm. Maybe.“

#miles morales #spiderman #spiderman across the spiderverse #atsv #miles morales x you #miles morales x reader #miles morales x y/n #fluff #making out #romance #reader insert #spiderman 1610B #atsv miles morales #across the spiderverse #atsv x reader #cosmosis-writes ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎

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pascallftv · 4 months

Text

eighties baby

summary: your parents throw an 80’s themed party in their mansion. you try your best to contain your infatuation for joel, your dad’s best friend. you and your friend get a little too drunk and joel decides to teach you a lesson.

content: joel miller x reader, no outbreak, little plot, dbf!joel, reader in her twenties

warnings: CONTAINS MATURE CONTENT. 18+ mdni!, age gap is 20s/50, piv unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), cream pie, doggystyle, dirty talk, choking

an: i’m baaaaaack ;) this was… wow! pls enjoy

“Your ass looks immaculate.”

You glance over your shoulder in the reflection of the mirror, locking eyes with your best friend. She’s giving you wild eyes while biting her bottom lip that’s covered in bright red lip stick. Her makeup was done very vibrantly compared to usual; blue eyeshadow with bright pink blush.

“You don’t think it’s too short?” You ask, popping a hip to accentuate your ass further under your very tight and very short mini skirt. Typically, you wouldn’t mind if a little bit of cheek was hanging out the bottom of your skirt, but this was your parents’ party, not your typical college party. Your best friend rolled her eyes and you and laid a smack down on your ass. You yelped in surprise.

“It’s perfectly fine. It’ll be dark.” She begins, then her voice lowers. “Plus, Joel will want to eat you alive when he sees you in it.”

You bite your bottom lip to fight back a grin. She knew you too well. You sighed and placed your hands on your hip, your head turning to the side as your further inspect your outfit in your full length mirror. You decided to go with an 80s glam rock look instead of the typical vibrant colors from the time period. You were wearing a tight black leather skirt and matching top, with knee high platform boots with silver chains on them. You had grungy black eyeshadow matched with a glossy red lip. You felt hot.

“I can’t be too obvious. You cannot let me get too drunk tonight.” You say sternly. You were talking more to yourself than anything. You knew if you drank too much alcohol you would make a fool out of yourself in front of Joel.

Joel was your father’s main man. They’d known each other for decades now. Joel was a stern man; the crinkles by his eyes from his fifty years of wisdom weren’t usually intensified by joy, more by scowls. You’d like to think at one point he was a light hearted man, but you can’t help but wonder what in his years turned him into such a sour puss. You could count on one hand the amount of times you’d seen him genuinely laugh. It was an extremely rare occurrence, but the times he had, it was the most amazing sound you’d ever heard.

“Fine. But this is your chance to act as unhinged as you want because in the morning you can blame the alcohol.” Your best friend winks at you, patting you once more on the bum.

“You’re a terrible influence.” You turn to face her. Your shorter friend stares up at you with a devilish grin and runs her thumb along your bottom lip, cleaning up your red lipstick.

“We should head down there, take a couple shots, scope it out.” She suggests, grabbing your perfume off your vanity and spritzing it on the both of you a few times. You nod in agreement, and check your outfit in the mirror one last time. You take a deep breath and grab your friend’s hand to leave your bedroom. The 80s music was already thumping from your parent’s massive surround sound speakers downstairs. The lights were off, with the sole light source being a couple lamps and some red lights your parents used for their annual Halloween party.

When you made it downstairs, the house was already packed out. The entire neighborhood was in your parents’ house. All of the couples in the neighborhood were in attendance, as well as their children (all in their twenties or older). If you squinted hard enough, it even looked like a college party. The lighting was just enough to see the basic traits of everyone’s faces, most of them being somewhat recognizable to you. You had just graduated from college earlier that month, so you were home temporarily until you found your full-time calling.

Your friend dragged you to the kitchen where all of the alcohol was stashed. On the island, there was a lineup of liquor with the appropriate mixers. She decided to pour you each a hefty shot of tequila, as well as a lime wedge. You absolutely hated any dark liquor, and unfortunately vodka had been tainted for you in your time at college, so tequila was the sole surviving option for you. You didn’t mind the taste of tequila, but the catch was its effect on you. Unlike other forms of liquor, tequila made you incredibly horny. After around 4 tequila shots, you had the tendency to shed off articles of clothing like you were battling a heat wave. This made you nervous considering you knew Joel would be in attendance; however, as your friend said, you can use the liquor as a scapegoat if it got that bad.

As you and your friend shot back your tequila, you began wondering where Joel could be. The party started over thirty minutes ago, and it was uncharacteristic of him to be late, meaning he was in the house somewhere. The thought alone made your skin crawl.

“One more.” Your friend called out over the music, pouring you each another hefty shot. Your eyes got wide. You knew you’d have to take a break from drinking after this shot, otherwise you’d end up butt ass naked in the middle of this party.

Another hefty shot later, and you were already feeling the buzz from the alcohol. Your veins felt tingly and your limbs felt weightless. You each made yourselves your mixed drink of choice, and decided to make your way out to the makeshift dance floor in your parents’ spacious living room. They had a portable disco floor, as well as a disco ball hung from the ceiling. No one took parties more seriously than your parents.

Your friend grabbed your arm and pulled you onto the dance floor, with “Talking in Your Sleep” by the Romantics blasting from the speakers. Your eyes wandered around the room trying to find the brown eyed man you’d be longing to see. Sure enough, you spotted him. He was sitting on the sofa, leaning back with his legs spread out in front of him. He had a glass of what appeared to be whiskey in his hand, resting on his thigh. You gulped when you noticed he was already looking at you. You quickly looked away and took a sip of the tequila sour you half-assed at the kitchen makeshift bar.

You made eye contact with your friend, and you gave her panic eyes to let her know you found him. She caught on almost instantly, and took that as a queue to scoot out of your line of sight. She leaned closer to you to say something in your ear.

“Go sit next to him.” She suggested loudly into your ear.

You shot her a look of unease. Wouldn’t that be too obvious? You shook your head no rapidly in response. It was too early in the night for you to do something as ballsy as that.

After about half an hour, your friend’s drink was empty and she was dragging you back to the kitchen. Your drink was still three-fourths full. Your stomach was bubbling with anxiety knowing that Joel had a direct view of you in your anything but conservative outfit. Besides, you were scared for your actions if you ingested any more alcohol.

Your friend took two more shots and mixed herself another strong cocktail. You knew she was going to be shitfaced in the matter of minutes. You rub your forehead and sigh. It’s going to be a quick night for her.

Your predictions were correct.

Forty minutes passed and her cocktail was gone, and so was she. She was so plastered that she couldn’t stand up straight, constantly grabbing your arm for support. You looked around the room and immediately made eye contact with Joel. He’s watching the both of you intensely, his head nodding over to the side as he observes your friend stumbling around. You’re fully embarrassed at how gone your friend was already. Your stomach flips when you noticed Joel was lifting himself off his spot in the sofa, making his way towards the both of you. He grabbed onto your arm, a look of concern crossing his features.

“Come on.” He said shortly, moving his arm from yours to hers, helping her stand up somewhat straight. “Let’s take her upstairs.”

You glanced down at your friend and her head was lulling to the side, her eyes fluttering shut. There was no salvaging her. You nodded in response to Joel and helped him practically carry your friend upstairs to your bedroom. After her nearly falling every few steps, you finally make it to your bedroom. You noticed Joel’s eyes wandering around the walls of your room as he took in the decor. You had various band posters still hanging in your childhood bedroom, many of them being 60’s rock bands that your dad showed you. You gently lay your friend down onto your bed, and almost immediately she’s snoring.

“Jesus Christ, I’m so sorry about this, Joel.” You mutter, looking up at him with apologetic eyes. You absentmindedly toy with your hands in front of you. Despite the shots you did take, you were still feeling nervous; the liquid courage wasn’t doing its job.

Joel stepped closer to you and shook his head. His brown eyes were soft and his eyebrows were furrowed.

“It was nothing, really.” He assures you, taking a glance back at your friend. He was amused at just how fast your friend fell asleep. He turned back to look at you and felt something flutter deep in his gut.

He had kept his eyes in you all night. He couldn’t believe how grown you were. Sure, he had known you since you were young, but you were a woman now. You had always been pretty, but now, you were stunning. He felt disgusting about it. Of all the women in his life, none of them compared to you, his best friend’s daughter. The entire night he had watched the way your latex skirt was fighting to stay over the plump flesh of your ass. Your top wasn’t much better; it left little to the imagination, your nipples peaking through the thin fabric of it. You were genuinely perfect in his eyes, and it was causing him the most intense moral battle of his life.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You asked quietly. His eyes were wandering over you, but he was saying nothing. It looked as though he was fighting something internally.

“What are you doing here?” He asked blandly, ignoring your question entirely. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.

“What do you mean?” You pondered, crossing your arms over your chest, unintentionally pushing your boobs up further, placing them in perfect display for Joel.

“You could be anywhere, yet here you are drunk at your parents’ party.” He said, glancing down at your chest, hoping you wouldn’t notice, but of course you did. You chuckle in response.

“I just graduated college, Joel. I’m home temporarily until I can find something full time. What’s the matter? Am I inconveniencing you somehow?” You asked with pure sass.

“Well not entirely, no.” Joel says, stepping closer to you. “You’d think you and your friend would have a little self control considering the environment. This isn’t college, sweetheart.”

“I beg your pardon? I’ve barely drank anything. For god sake I helped you carry her.” You get defensive, emphatically gesturing towards your friend that’s passed out in your bed. “And unfortunately she could’ve been way worse than this.”

“You should’ve stopped her before she was fighting to keep herself standing.” Joel scolded you, his brows furrowing further.

“Aww what’s wrong, Joel? You have no children of your own so you have to parent me?” You snarled, stepping another inch closer to him. Joel frowns, his fist clenching at his hip.

“You’re a little fucking brat, ain’t ya?” Joel growls, getting centimeters away from your face. He was so close that you could feel his hot breath on the skin of your face.

“And you’re just a dickhead, huh?” You fire back.

Joel grabbed you by the forearm and tugged you towards your bedroom door. Before you could protest, Joel was dragging you down the hall to a spare bedroom. He swiftly pulled you inside and locked the door behind you. He grabbed you firmly by the throat, squeezing just the sides as to not restrict your airflow.

“Bit of an attitude problem, eh?” Joel spoke sternly. You gulped, gawking up into his crinkled eyes. “Might just have to sort you out.”

“What are you doing, Joel?” You squeaked out, your hand reaching up to grab ahold of his forearm. His face moved closer to yours, his eyes moving down to your crimson lips.

“I can only imagine you put on this poor excuse of a skirt to try and get someone to pay attention to you in the way you’re craving. You’re a little fucking whore, aren’t you?” Joel growls, his free hand moving down to your skirt, pulling it away from your body so it smacked back against your plump thighs. You gasped. You didn’t know how to respond to that. Was this actually happening?

After years of secretly fantasizing about a moment like this, it was finally happening, and you were flabbergasted.

“Answer me. Tell me what you are.” His grip around your throat slowly moved up to your jaw, his fingers squeezing your cheeks, making your lips purse.

You groaned in response, a hand trailing up Joel’s torso to his chest, laying a flat hand against him. His heart was beating rapidly. You glanced down and noticed the bulge straining against his vintage Levi jeans. He was enjoying this a little too much. You forced your face away from his grip, grabbing his wrist as hard as you could.

“I’m not a whore.” Your words were laced with venom. You were frustrated. Not because of the substance of Joel’s words, but because you were so fucking aroused. If it were anyone else, you probably would’ve planted a firm kick in their groin or sucker punched them in the lip. His words were disgusting, but you were eating it up.

“No?” Joel cocked his head at you. His free hand snakes up under your skirt, his fingertips pressing against your folds. His fingers were met with moisture. Your panties were soaked through. His gaze fell to his hand, then back up to your doe eyes. He smirked devilishly at you, his hand moving to your face. With his thumb, he pawed at your bottom lip, pulling it away from your teeth.

“Your cunt says otherwise, darling.” He muttered, his breath fanning across your face once more. You swallowed hard. You averted your eyes from him, his gaze making you feel entirely too hot.

“My parents.” You blurted out, your gaze returning to his momentarily. He swallows, his thumb still sitting by your mouth.

“They won’t know.” He said. You retracted your grip from his forearm, and he took that as an opportunity to run his finger up the outside of your arm painfully slow. “What’s wrong sweetheart? Scared of your daddy finding out?”

Your lips parted, a harsh exhale escaping your throat. Your body was on fire, your skin littered with goosebumps from Joel’s touch. To any normal person, this situation would be incredibly alarming. Yes, your moral compass was clawing at the back of your mind, but you craved interaction. Your morals were out the window, your desires taking superiority.

“Yes.” You whispered, your gaze falling to Joel’s lips. They were tempting you.

“If you don’t want this, stop me.”

Joel’s hand moved from your arm back towards the bottom of your skirt, pushing it up over your thighs, your red panties on full display.

“Fuck.” Joel growled, his fingertips grazing your mound through the lacy fabric. He pushed your panties to the side, his finger running through your folds, collecting your arousal. “Stop me, angel.” He teased.

His fingertip ghosted over your sensitive clit, your legs jolting in response, a whimper leaving your mouth. His mouth hovered over the soft skin of your neck, his breath stirring up goosebumps.

“S’matter sweetheart?” Joel muttered, planting a soft kiss to your throat. “Tell me what you need.”

“N-need more.” You said, your brows furrowing in desperation. You glanced down at his hand between your legs, your lower gut fluttering at the sight. He applied more pressure to the circles he was dancing over your swollen bud, the pleasure sending your head to lull backwards. You whimpered more, your legs beginning to feel like jello.

“You sound so pathetic.” Joel spat, working his fingers faster on your clit. You exhaled unevenly, your hand coming down on Joel’s bicep for stability.

You felt that familiar white heat beginning to ignite low in your belly, your cunt throbbing steadily. Your eyes squeezed shut. You were close— but Joel knew that. He wasn’t going to let you come just yet. Without warning, Joel halted his actions, his hand leaving your folds. You could’ve cried in that moment. Joel grabbed your forearm and tugged you towards the bed, pushing you down onto the duvet.

“Joel, please. I need to cum.” You whined, your head falling back into the soft mattress. Joel purses his lips at you, his hand running along the smooth skin of your leg, inching closer to where you needed his attention most.

“Jesus, sweetheart. At least you know what you want.” Joel said, squeezing the flesh of your thigh with the rough skin of his palm. “Here’s how this is gonna go. First I’m going to taste you. Then, I’m going to fuck you until you forget how to think. Got it?”

You nodded pathetically, grinding your hips down onto the mattress, desperate for some sort of friction. Joel ghosted his hands over your thighs to the seam of your latex skirt, gripping it between his fingers. In a swift motion, Joel tugged the skirt down your legs and off your body, tossing it somewhere on the floor. He left your boots on, not quite wanting to get rid of them yet. Your pussy looks so pretty underneath the transparent lace fabric of your thong. It left little to nothing to Joel’s imagination. Your breasts were spilling out of your black top, your areolas peaking out. You looked breathtaking.

“Fuck, angel. I wish you could see yourself. So pretty for me.” Joel muttered, lowering his face to your groin, pressing a soft kiss to your inner thigh. He ran his large hand up the back of your thigh, squeezing every few inches. You bite your lip and you stared down at his face as he littered kissed across your thighs. His salt and pepper beard added even more texture to the sensations you were feeling. He slipped his fingers underneath the fabric of your panties and slowly pulled them down your tights and over your boots, leaving your heat bare. Joel lowered his face down to your core, his hot breath fanning over your sensitive skin. He pressed a kiss to your pelvic bone, then ghosted his lips in a line down to your sensitive bud. He planted another kiss over your clit, taking his sweet time teasing you. Your pussy was throbbing at this point, desperate for any sort of touch.

“Joel please.” You pleaded, grinding your hips up towards his mouth. “I need your tongue.”

“Good girl.” He said, lowering his tongue to your folds, licking a wet stripe up your vulva, tracing a circle around your clit, sucking down on it gently. He moaned into your flesh, the vibrations sending a chill down your spine. His tongue began to work faster, flicking up and down and side to side over your clit. He brought his middle finger to your opening, ghosting circular motions over it, before slowly pushing it inside of you. You exhaled deeply at the sensation. He began pumping his finger rhythmically in and out of you, paying special attention to curl his fingertip upwards to brush against your g spot. As he felt your walls growing accustom to the girth of his singular digit, he added a second finger, pumping faster. Just from his fingers and tongue, you already felt fucked out of your mind. The pleasure sent shocks down your legs and up your spine, your head rolling back into the mattress in euphoria. A quiet moan slipped through your cherry lips, your fists grabbing the bedding for leverage to cope with the immense pleasure coursing through you.

“Joel.” You whimpered, one of your hands jetting down to grab at his hair as he lapped at your wet heat. His soft brown eyes flicked up to meet yours at the sound of your voice. Your moan went straight to his already throbbing cock.

“Christ, baby.” He groaned, lifting away from your core to unbutton his Levi’s. His hand fumbled with the zipper to get them off as fast as he could. The anticipation was killing him; he was so hard that it was beginning to hurt. He needed inside you immediately.

Finally managing to slide his jeans down his legs, his cock was straining against his boxers. The tent was revealing in itself; you already knew he was packing a punch. It felt painfully slow, but finally Joel slipped off his boxers, revealing his erection. Leaking at the tip, he brushed his thumb over, cleaning up the precum that had accumulated from tasting you.

You sat up from the mattress and grabbed his face in your hands, pressing your lips to his. Your lips moved against his in a passionate rush. You could taste yourself on his lips. Another whimper rose from your throat, the moan vibrating off his lips. The sound of your wet kiss filled the room as he lowered his body over yours to lay you back down against the bed. His hand moved from his cock to your breast, pulling it out of your top and giving it a firm squeeze.

“Fuck.” He muttered against your lips as you rocked your hips into his. You needed his touch desperately.

“Fuck me.” You breathed out, pulling away to look him in the eye. “Please.”

That was all Joel needed to hear. He reached down to take his cock in his hand again, guiding his top to press into your folds. He ran back and forth against your slick, his precum mixing with your arousal. His eyebrows furrowed in pleasure as he felt your wetness already beginning to coat him. His eyes lifted back to meet yours as he began to slowly press his tip into your entrance, the stretch already making you feel crazed. Your lips parted, an exhale escaping your lips as he pressed himself into your further. Your hands darted up to grab onto his biceps as leverage. He lowered down to your lips, pressing a slow, gentle kiss to them as he pushed his length inside of you to the hilt. Another moan escaped your lips.

“Y’okay?” Joel breathed out, slowly pumping in and out of you, allowing you time to adjust. You nodded your head, unable to form a coherent sentence.

“More.” You begged. “I need more.”

Joel ran his hand from your thigh up your belly, dragging his finger tip slowly to take in every inch of your skin. He reached your neck, wrapping his calloused fingertips around your throat, carefully squeezing on the sides. He leaned down to meet your lips, taking your bottom lip between his teeth momentarily.

“So fucking needy.” He grumbled against your mouth, his eyelids fluttering closed.

Suddenly, Joel began pounding into you. His hot breath fanned over your face as he rammed in and out of you, his length reached the deepest parts of you. You gasped, your hand reached up to grab his wrist that was busy squeezing your throat. Your eyes rolled back in your head and he slammed into you over and over. You were sure he was hitting you so deep that he was nicking your cervix. Just when you thought you couldn’t be more overwhelmed with pleasure, Joel’s free hand snaked between your thighs, his thumb finding your clit, ghosting gentle circles over the sensitive nub. You squeaked out a moan, the pleasure overcoming your senses completely. Your legs began to shake from the stimulation, your lower belly muscles tensing from the overwhelming sensation. Your breath was shaking, the oxygen feeling as through it had completely left your lungs.

“F-fuck.” You stuttered as Joel thrusted into you. “I’m close.”

Joel took this as an opportunity to slide out of you, wasting no time in flipping you onto your belly, laying a hard slap against your bare ass cheek. He groaned as your ass jiggled from the slap, his hand coming back down to grab a handful of your flesh. You pressed your face down into the duvet, letting out a moan. Your pussy was throbbing from the sudden lack of attention. You wiggled your hips, nonverbally begging for Joel’s cock. He chucked, slapping your ass once more before pressing himself back at your entrance, ramming into you fully, his hips meeting your ass in a rush. He grabbed a cheek with his rough fingertips, pulling your ass apart to get a full view of himself slamming into you. Your tightest hole was on perfect display for him.

“One day I’m going to claim you here too.” Joel growled, his fingertip grazing the ring of your asshole. You gasped, your forehead coming down onto the bedding, pressing your face down into the duvet to cover your moan. “You’d like that wouldn’t you? Me claiming your tight little ass as mine?”

You nodded rapidly, a straggled breath leaving your mouth. It was so goddamn hard for your mind to focus on anything except the feeling of his tip grazing the opening of your cervix with every thrust. Once again, Joel reached his hand down to toy at your clit, bringing you closer to your climax. The white heat hit you again as your legs began to shake under you. Joel wasn’t far behind you, and his pace wasn’t easing up.

His hips met yours hard and fast, the sound of skin slapping echoing off the walls of the spare bedroom. If it weren’t for the music thumping downstairs, your sinful act would’ve already been heard throughout the entire house. Joel leaned down, kissing you against your spine, his hand kneading your ass.

“F-fuck, where do you want me? Your mouth? Or should I fill you up?” Joel grunted, his hand snaking around your front to firmly grab your breast, pinching your nipple between his fingertips.

You gasped, the stimulation for your nipple slipping you into the beginning of your orgasm. You didn’t answer him, the feeling of your impending climax completely taking over your body.

“Look at you cumming around my cock. Such a good fucking slut.” Joel growled, his pace somehow quickening further. His hand reached up to your hair, grabbing a fistful of locks and pulling your head backwards. His other hand reached around to your throat as he bent down to kiss you from the intense angle, your orgasm taking over you entirely. Your toes began to curl beneath you, your pussy clamping around Joel’s cock that was twitching deep inside you. Your pussy clenched down around his length, hugging it perfectly.

“Fuck.” Joel whimpered, his high hitting him like a train. Your spasming canal clamped down around him as he came in hot spurts, coating your walls deep inside of you. Your walls clenched around him, milking every ounce of cum from his length.

His thrusts slowed as his seed filled you up, his hands grabbing your hips for stability as he came the hardest he’d ever came in his life. He moaned as he slowly slipped his spent cock out of you, some of his release dripping out of your used up hole. The sight was intoxicating.

“Fuck.” Joel breathed out again, taking in the ruined state of your folds. He ran his fingers down your slick, mixing his cum with yours. You flinched at the sensitivity of your pussy, whining as he brushed over your clit.

You were spent. Your face was still pressed against the mattress, your ass still perched in the air. Joel’s cum was slowly leaking out of you, and you couldn’t bring yourself to move. You were too fucked out of your mind to notice that Joel had left the bed to retrieve a wet rag from the attached bathroom. You winced as he gently cleaned up the juices spilling from you.

“You look so beautiful with my cum dripping out of you.” He spoke, running a hand up and down the back of your thigh. He pressed a kiss to your sore ass cheek from where he had smacked it.

You rolled over onto your back, your tender breasts jiggling from the movement. Joel leaned down and took a breast into his mouth, gently sucking on your hardened nipple.

“As much as I’d love to stay here and fuck you all night, I should go before your daddy starts to wonder where we went.” Joel said, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips.

A pit grew deep in your gut at the thought of Joel leaving you, but you knew the nature of this interaction and it would be silly of you to expect any different. You gazed up at him and frowned.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Joel shook his head and straightened up, moving his attention to dress himself. He began buttoning his flannel that he’d taken off during your interaction at some point that you hadn’t noticed. You watched in silence as he pulled his boxers and Levi’s back up over his legs.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Joel said after he was fully dressed. You were still laying on the bed completely nude attempting to recover from the mindblowing sex you’d just endured. Joel walked towards the door, turning briefly to look at your one last time.

“You might want to get dressed, sweetheart. Hate to have your daddy walk in to see my cum spilling out of you.” He winked, then disappeared out of the door, leaving you alone fucked out of your mind.

#joel miller #joel tlou #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #din djarin #the mandalorian #tlou fanfiction #tlou #smut #pedro x reader #joel x reader #dbf!joel #age g4p

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barefoothighlander · 10 months

Text

hysteria

summary: ghost needs help expressing his emotions

simon ‘ghost’ riley x afab!reader

warnings: mdni (18+), slight dark themes, light bondage, blindfold, mention of weapons, teasing, overstimulation, oral (fem rec), use of vibrator, ice play?, choking, kinda free use, name-calling, multiple creampies, possessive!ghost, dacryphilia if you squint, wax play, mirror sex

a/n: this is porn with very minimal plot, not proofread

Something was off with Ghost all day, his responses to you curt, revealing little about his thoughts, it worried you considering when he got quiet it meant he was in a dark place mentally. He'd only been home a week after being gone months on deployment, it was a good week, your time spent with mundane domestic tasks but it was like a switch was flipped, his presence grown cold with no explanation as to why.

You move closer to him in the room, standing in front of his sat form, his elbows propped on his knees as he stares at the ground, clearly lost in thought considering he neglected to acknowledge your presence.

You place your hands gently on his shoulders, feeling him tense under your touch, waiting a moment before digging your digits into the muscles, doing your best to knead any stress that was bearing weight on him.

"What are you doing?" His voice is low, his accent rumbling in his chest as his gaze stays on the floor.

"You seem upset"

"M'fine"

"Liar"

He snaps his head to you, the smirk on your lips fading as he stares at you with dark eyes, "What's wrong Simon"

"I told you, nothing"

"You've been ignoring me"

"Have I?"

"I don't want to play this game with you"

"Game?"

You pull your hands from him, crossing them over your chest, "I can help, just tell me what's wrong"

He stands to his full height, his stare boring into you as his height forces you to feel small in front of him, your body suddenly nervous. You place a soft hand on his chest, keeping him in his place as he stretches his shoulders, broadening his chest. He grabs your wrist, pulling it from him and holding it at your side, his grip harsh on your skin,

"Si, let me help"

He watches your pleading eyes, he wants your help, but he still hasn't figured out how to vocalize it, he watches the way your hand falls limp in his grip, you aren't fighting against him, you know he'd never hurt you, your features are soft as you watch him, his tired eyes looking down at you as he releases your hand, watching it fall.

"I want to help"

You move your arms to touch him but he steps back, swallowing in his throat, "No touching"

"Okay"

"Close your eyes"

There were occasions during sex when he'd make an effort to hide his face, turning off lights or keeping his mask on, he'd never left it up to you to be the one without sight. You close your eyes, keeping your body still as you hear him move around you, he reaches for a drawer before returning to you, your heart jumping as you feel a piece of fabric slip over your eyes, his hands tying it behind your hair, keeping it snug.

You raise your arms as you feel his fingers tug at your shirt, helping him to lift it from your form, allowing your chest to enter his view, his hands moving quickly to your pants, tugging them down as you step out of them. Letting out a heavy breath as you become completely exposed to him, unaware of your surroundings.

You hear him move away, opening a cabinet before moving back to you, he tosses an object onto the bed before his arms lock under your thighs, hoisting you against him with minimal effort as your fingers cling to him. He lays you on the bed, allowing you to adjust against the mattress before he grabs your wrists, tugging them above your head, he shifts the object above your head, using some form of string to tie your wrists to it, securing them so they stay positioned above you, unable to move.

You tense your hands, trying to get a feel for the object, it's cold, somewhat cylindrical, whatever it is, its position means you truly can't touch him, even if you tried.

The mattress dips under his weight, you can feel the skin of his bare chest against yours, moving your legs to rub against the harsh fabric of his pants, his breath fans over your ear making your hair stand on end.

"Do you trust me?"

"With my life Si"

"Good"

He moves from the bed, your ears tuning in to the sounds of his movements as he passes through rooms, your breath hitching as the sound of objects setting on the side table makes you jump.

His palms flatten against your thighs, pushing them apart, pressing them into the bed as he spreads them, your arousal evident by the way your pussy glistens, you can feel his stare, the way his thumbs dig into your flesh as his gaze devours you.

He removes a hand, reaching over you, your muscles tense as he presses something freezing against your flesh, your hips squirming as he runs it over your inner thigh, the object dripping against your skin.

Ice

He runs the ice cube over the flesh, letting it drip from your body to the sheets as it melts, your breath quickening as your body tries to adjust to the cold. He drags it up your tight, moving it closer to your core before settling it atop your pussy, letting the cold water drip between your folds, watching it pass through your slick to trickle down.

He's silent, watching as the water moves over your skin, enjoying the way your body twitches as the cold touches sensitive spots. He holds the ice until it melts fully, your face contorting as you clench around nothing.

"Si, please"

"Shh, when I say so"

He was gonna take his time, watch you fall apart before splitting you open with his cock, he wanted you dumb, easy, ready to be taken by him in whatever way he pleased.

You release a breath as his hands move from you, your fingers tensing against the restraints as he shifts in his spot. You yelp as you feel heat his your skin, circles of flesh stinging for a moment before they calm down, he drips a trail down your stomach, watching the muscles tense under every drop.

He leads it toward your core, your pussy soaking as he pools the fluid above it, his fingers tracing up your legs, settling beside your core, as you arch your hips, trying to gain any sort of contact.

He teases two fingers around your sex, collecting your slick and running the digits over your hole, your pussy clenching as he teases at your entrance.

You whimper as he slides the fingers in, watching your cunt suck the digits in, stifling a groan from his chest as he pumps them into you, the fingers glistening with your slick.

He feels you clench down on him every time he lets a drop fall from the candle, your back arching slightly as the wax makes contact with your skin.

Everything is heightened, the burn of the wax after the chill from the ice, the way his large fingers slide into you with ease, curving to hit just the right spot as your fingers try to grab at anything that would ground you.

It feels too good and he's barely touched you, all you can feel is him now, his fingers pumping into you as he coax’s an orgasm from your body, listening to your noises and letting them guide him as your high builds inside you.

“M’gonna cum”

“Good, cum for me, cum on my fingers you little slut”

His words drive you over the edge, your push clamping down on his digits as he works you through your high, grazing them against the soft spot inside you over and over, watching your mouth fall open as your moans drip from your tongue.

He pulls his hand from you, leaving you feeling empty before pressing a cool object against your clit before letting you come down from your high, a straggled yelp from your throat as he turns the object on, letting it vibrate against the neglected bud, your hips twitching with the contact.

He trails a hand up your stomach, settling it at the base of your neck where his fingers lay against your pulse point, squeezing lightly as your limbs dig into the mattress, your hips arching into the vibrator as he holds it against you, refusing to let you move from it.

“I want you fucking soaked”

The room fills with your whimpers, your nerves on end as your legs shake lightly from the sensation, the remnants of your orgasm still lingering beneath the surface as he squeezes harder against your neck, suffocating your moans.

“You’re gonna cum one more time before I stuff you with my cock, you need to earn it you fucking whore”

Your grind your core against the toy, any sense of self consciousness gone as you chase your high, your skin covered in a thin layer of sweat.

“That’s it, ride the toy, make yourself cum”

Grazing your clit against the vibration, urging your high to surface as his hand moulds against your neck, your chest rising with heavy breaths.

His fingers press into the skin of your neck, his palm snug against your wind pipe as he silenced your cries, pushing the toy harder against your clit.

Your orgasm rips through your body, your moana reduced to strangled sobs as your body writhes under his grip, his hand keeping the vibrator on you as you try to pull your hips away, your legs weak from the stimulation as your body seizes.

“That’s it, so good for me”

He releases your neck letting you gasp for air and he replaces the toy with his fingers, easing you down from your high, your body wracked as your limbs rest weak against the bed.

He shifts his weight, leaning over your form, his fingers tracing against your wrists as you feel the knots around them loosen. You flex the digits as he unties you, pulling your arms to your side slowly, the flesh tingling as feeling returns to them.

His arms snake under your back, pulling you against him, one hand situated under your thigh holding you up as he lifts you from the bed. He placed you down, turning your body so your back is flush with his chest as his arm holds around your waist.

He tugs the fabric from your eyes, blinking slowly as light returns to them, he looks massive behind you, your weak form held up inky by his grip as your ass presses against his groin, his cock hard under his jeans.

You turn your gaze upward, eyes focusing on the sight of your body in the mirror, skin splotchy and hair a mess as he stands behind you, untouched.

His gaze is dark as he locks eyes with you in the mirror, his form dwarfing yours like he wants you to see how much bigger he is.

“Look at you, all worked up and you haven’t even had my cock yet”

Your mouth dries at the thought, he’s already wrecked your body with just his fingers, your pussy clenching at the thought of his cock splitting you open.

His hand grabs your wrists, pinning them behind your back as you wince at the angle, he holds them tightly, subduing you from trying to touch him as his eyes take over your naked form in the mirror.

He glides two fingers through your folds, grinning when you whimper from the contact,

“Think you deserve my cock?”

“Yes”

“You can do better than that”

“Please, need to feel you”

“You need my cock little slut?”

“Yes, need it so bad”

His fingers work to undo his pants, pulling them lower, letting his length spring free, resting is against the curve of your ass as you grind lightly against him, a hiss from his mouth as your flesh makes contact with his erection.

“Don’t get greedy”

You plead with him through heavy eyes in the mirror, your flush skin a stark contrast to his pale chest as he presses against you.

“M’gonna ruin you”

He whispers in your ear, the words making goosebumps form on your skin as he drags the tip of his cock through your folds, bending you forward slightly to get a better angle

“Keep your head forward, you move or close your eyes, I stop”

“Please, fuck me”

He bites back a grunt as he pushes into you, his eyes glued to the way your face scrunch’s as he stretches you out, forcing his cock into you.

“So goddamn tight”

Your mind is too fuzzy to hear the sounds that the slick from your core makes as he pushes deeper, coating his length in your juices as he stuffs you full of his cock.

“That’s it, take it all you fucking slag”

A growl from deep in his chest emerges as he bottoms out, his top pressing against your cervix as you adjust to the size of him, your walls squeezing his length.

Your knees buckle as he thrusts in, his arm locking around your waist to hold you up while he pumps his full length into you, dragging it along your soaked walls, his hips colliding with your ass with every stroke.

“Bloody hell, such a wet little cunt”

You struggle to keep your eyes open as he fucks you from behind, your state focused on the way he clenched his jaw as his eyes watch your pussy swallow him, your body rocking back and forth with the force of his thrusts.

He releases your hands, letting them fall forward against the mirror while his fingers move to toy with your clit, broken moans falling from your lips as your eyes meet his. He darkens his gaze as he circles the bud, working in time with his thrusts, your body on edge since your last two orgasms, the light in the room almost blinding as you struggle to hold your hands firm against the mirror.

“Wanna see you as you soak my cock, wanna feel this tight pussy squeeze me”

You scrunch your brows in an attempt to keep your eyes open, the sounds he’s making filling your ears as you use every bit of strength just to keep your head up.

He rubs quick circles around your clit, his cock driving into you, running against your soft spot, bringing you closer to the edge as your body grows hot, your skin damp with sweat as your watch his stomach tense with every thrust.

His hand moves from your waist, gripping around your neck to bring you against him, your back arched as your head makes contact with his chest, his large hand holding you tight to him.

“Watch yourself, cum on my cock”

Your hands reach for the mirror in front of you, trying to grab anything that wasn’t him as you feel the coil inside you burn your skin, searing your body as he grins behind you, feeling you clench down on his cock.

Your orgasm leaves you numb, your neck weak, lolling against his chest as he fucks you through it, gritted teeth resting beside your head as he watches you through the mirror.

"That's it baby, that's it, fuck"

His strokes grow sloppy, his eyes glued to your face as your body moulds to him, whispers of curses falling from his lips as he spills into you, his hips twitching as you release a wanton moan as the sensation of his cum filling you.

He holds his softening cock inside you, a heavy breath from your chest as you both come down, straining your arms against him as you try to move.

"Not done yet love"

His hands find purchase on your waist, walking you backward until your knees collide with the bed, your body falling backwards into the mattress as he lowers himself in front of you.

"Need to taste you"

You try to squirm your hips away but he plants his hands firmly on your legs, pinning you to the bed as he flattens his tongue, running it through your folds and collecting the combination of your spend, holding it in his mouth as he moves over your form.

He lowers himself over you, planting his lips on yours as he kisses you greedily, transferring the liquid into your mouth as his tongue swirls yours, the taste salty on your tastebuds as you swallow it.

He moves back, a string of saliva connecting your lips as he lowers himself back down, his lips latching around your clit as you sob, your head falling to the side.

"Please, s'too much"

"I say when it's too much"

He flicks his tongue over the bud, your body writhing under him as he holds you still, tears pricking your eyes as he works the muscle over your abused core.

He hums against your core, words escaping you as you sob into the sheet, saliva from your mouth pooling at the corners of your lips as it drips onto the fabric below.

"Taste so fucking sweet, one more for me"

He brings your orgasm quickly, your core still tensed from the previous as your vision blurs, tears falling to stain your skin as your fingers cling to the sheets, his hands holding your struggling hips still as your high rips through your body, taking away any remaining strength you had as you fall limp against the bed.

"That's it, my perfect little slut, m'gonna fill this cunt one more time, stuff you full of my seed"

You watch him with watery eyes as his chest presses to yours, his cock pushing into you as your weeping pussy takes him, letting him fill you with every inch, his elbows propped beside your head, caging you.

"You crying baby? Took my cock for a few minutes and you're all worked up"

His taunts pass through your ears, your senses dull to anything but the feeling of his cock filling you, thrusting in with every inch as your core soaks him, slick dripping from you to wet the sheets below, leaving a pool of arousal.

He runs a thumb over your cheek, smearing the drops of tears as you watch him with hooded eyes, your moans reduced to quiet whimpers as your mouth falls open. Your skin stained with saliva as it falls from your tongue, his lips quick to capture yours, swallowing your breaths as he fucks you, chasing his high.

You lull your head to the side, eyes moving slowly around, settling on the gleam of metal beside you, squinting to try and focus on the object before his hand settles at the back of your neck, tugging you into his shoulder as he presses his weight into you.

"Fuck, so fucking good, tell me you need it"

You struggle to form the words, your brain fogged,

"Tell me"

"Need to feel you, need your cum"

"That's right, want this cunt dripping with my seed"

He thrusts into you at a rapid pace, drawing the last breath from your chest before burying his cock in you, his arms holding you against him as he spills into you again, your pussy clenching around his length as he pumps it into you, the heat spreading from your core to envelop your skin.

He loosens his grip, letting your body rest lighter against the bed as he lays on top of you, his hands moving to hold yours, tugging them to wrap around his waist, a small hum of satisfaction leaving your lips as your fingers press against the flesh, finally able to touch him.

He waits a few minutes, catching his breath before slowly pulling his cock from you, whispers of apologies as you whimper at the loss, his body moving around the room, returning with a small towel to help clean your body, wiping it of sweat and wax, careful around your core to clean up the mess.

He sits beside you, an arm on your back helping you sit up, leaning against him as he raises a glass to your lips, letting you drink as much as you needed before finishing the cup himself.

You gaze around the room as he moves from the bed, your brain finally focusing on the object near the pillows,

"Is that your scyth"

He doesn't respond, just moves it from the bed, placing it against the wall and out of the way before sliding onto the mattress, his arms wrapping around you as he tugs you into him, your face nestled against his chest while he rests his chin on the crown of your head.

"Got a message from Price, I have to leave in two days"

"S'that why you're upset?"

He hums against your head, "Not enough time"

"We'll have time when you get back"

"Just want to be with you"

You press a light kiss to his chest, smiling when he doesn't pull away,

"Thank you for telling me"

"Thank you for helping"

He cranes his neck down to you, his features softer as you gaze up at him, reaching to kiss him, his soft lips pressing against yours,

"You should really find some outlet for your emotions"

He huffs a small laugh, lips pressing to your forehead as his head falls against the pillow, arms snug around you as your legs tangle between his, your bodies calm as you lay with each other.

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #cod mw x reader #simon riley #ghost x reader #ghost cod #mw2022 #simon ghost riley x reader #cod mw2 #ghost smut #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley angst #simon ghost x reader

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writingwithcolor · 5 months

Text

Dark features/people as blessed, white and light people as sick

ladyoftheseastuff asked:

I'm writing a fantasy story where the world is permanently covered in snow & ice. The people share a common culture & are loyal to their city states, but they are not homogeneous in appearance; there will be many, many characters coded as PoC. The main religion centers on the sun, & those with dark features are 'favoured' by the sun god, while pale people or anyone who has white/blonde hair are thought vulnerable to "snow sickness", a disease caused by environmental factors (1/2) & have other rules and customs to gain religious approval. It's dangerous & infectious but not well understood. It affects social standing and opportunities, but it's meant to be tied with ideas of youth, vitality, & fear of aging & sickness: it's not limited to those coded as white. This is a cultural detail and not part of the main conflict, but I want to avoid unintentional allegories/parallels & fetishization. Is this a concept that's too close to crossing any of those lines? (2/2)

This feels less like a means to show dark skinned people in an empowering light and more like a weak attempt at subversion. My primary concern (which you have not specified) is how do the "blessed" class treat the "sickly" so to speak. We have fantasy stories like The Grisha Trilogy and Girls of Paper and Fire, which deal with magical ability/feature-based segregation and conflict.

In both cases there is a sense of entitlement which comes with hailing from the "favoured" class, quite obvious, since there will always be an inherent othering metaphor whenever you create such a division, whether it was meant to be a source of conflict or not.

However, the two mentioned series use the "magical people are blessed, non magical people are to be pitied" arc which is somewhat more subtle than divisions created just on the basis of skin colour.

Disclaimer as I do not have albinism or vitiligo: The latter can be extremely harmful, and not just in a racial context, but in cases of albinism, vitiligo etc.

~Mod Mimi

The pitfalls of subversions

While it is always lovely to see dark features considered in a favorable way, there are some issues you may come across. Such a story could easily end up dressing those you wished to uphold as bad guys in the readers' eyes, even if the story's society and the sun god etc. thinks they're amazing, and white and light people as the victims of dark people, deserving reader sympathy. This may especially be the case based on how these groups get treated in the story.

These sort of subversions lean dangerously into "reverse discrimination" plots which are not overall accurate or favorable allegories for your real, human audience. There being diversity on both sides doesn't necessary fix this issue or remove racial or ethnic implications. On that note, and as Mimi mentioned, being demonized and ostracized particularly for skin and genetic disorders like albinism is already a thing. What does your concept say of them?

I think Dark/Black as good and Light/white as bad is a doable concept. Your concept differs a bit from simply subverting black/white tropes. This is not just Black good guys and night skies being peaceful or neutral. It's not just white/light villains (as opposed to victims) or snow symbolling death or sickness.

White and light people are quite blatantly being declared as sick and unfavored and they may very well be victims in the reader's eye with the dark people being the villainous, unsympathetic bunch. Is this your intention?

More to consider

Such a concept requires thoughtful, careful planning and intentional writing. You should have an understanding of what your story implies to the readers and the real-life takeaways.

I think it's possible to make dark skin the favored skin of the sun god without it meaning white/light people stand in a negative light and are sick or unworthy.

Consider what it is that you like about the concept of your story. Can you keep the essence of whatever it is that excites you about your ideas, without denying a whole group of people favor? If not, how will you go about telling such a tale that is not meant to symbolize a sort of reversal of roles discrimination?

Why does the sun god get to determine what is good?

Are there other gods that might have different strong opinions? Perhaps who is favored varies by time of day, season, region, culture, god?

Can dark skin get its favor without white and light features being deemed unfavorable as a whole?

How big of a deal does this favor have to be? I advise reconsidering it being the point of discrimination to white/light people for all the reasons already described.

No matter the directions you go, please research and get the appropriate beta-readers for feedback on the in-depth concepts and story.

~Mod Colette

#Skin color #color symbolism #symbolism #fantasy #discrimination #reverse racism #and other myths #asks

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hellishjoel · 4 months

Text

god is a woman, but so is the devil

1.2k / pairing: sub brat tamer!joel miller x f!reader

psycho masterlist | main masterlist

summary: joel lets you have control of him for the night - you milk him for all that he's worth.

warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), no outbreak, porn without plot, brat tamer!joel, sub!joel, dom!reader, somewhat established relationship (whatever that relationship may be ((situationship, relationship, etc.)), toxic!couple, swearing, dirty talk, pet names, restraints, daddy kink, f!masturbation, oral (m & f receiving), degradation, a little praise kink, choking on dick, marking kink, 69, m!overstimulation A/N: this was a nice little challenge to help me make my smut more concise! shoutout to @undercoverpena for brainstorming this awesome idea with me! and thank you to @thetriumphantpanda for aiding me in attempting to shorten my smut lol. dividers by the astounding @saradika-graphics

“There he goes,” you coo with a belittling tone, “look at all this fucking cum.”

Your eyes fixate on the cream-colored mess all over your hand and Joel’s cock, watching out of your peripheral the way Joel’s chest rises and falls at a quickened rate. His skin is rosy with warmth, and body slick with his own sweat.

You’ve been milking him, orgasm after orgasm, with very little break in between. He was putty between your hands, while his own hands were tied up with his own belt at the bed frame.

“Okay,” he pants, head of dark curls matted with sweat digging into the pillows, “S’enough. M’done.”

You playfully snicker and shake your head, hand still stroking up and down his sticky cock as he goes limp in your palm.

“I think you forget who’s in charge here. Certainly not the one with his hands tied up in a belt.”

Joel grunts and bares his teeth, face pinched in a mess of agony and euphoria. He’s not sure how many times he’s been pushed to the finish, spilling unexpectedly all over himself in orgasms that convulse his entire body. The more he comes, the more he disintegrates.

Your devilish little giggle breaks him out of his daydream, his cock sensitive to your touch. He grunts and tugs against his restraints, the restraints he had foolishly agreed to. Handing over power to you was his first mistake, you were too self-absorbed to handle it.

Now, he’s laid back in the middle of the bed, a sweating, naked mess, while his girl literally sucks the life out of him.

He can’t help but whimper as you kitten lick around his reddened tip. Joel is forced to clench his eyes closed and grit his jaw as he tries to breathe through the overstimulation.

“Right, you had your fun, devil woman,” his southern accent is deep and filthy, written over with lust and making his words run raspy. “Now lemme go.”

He watches as you fake ponder, pursing your lips and looking up in thought. He takes in a sharp breath when you slowly begin to shake your head.

Joel watches in agony as you lean down and nip at the inside of his thighs, the muscles underneath your lips twitching with excitement. Your mouth moves up to the planes of his abdomen, watching with heavy eyes as you lick a slow stripe up his torso and taste his sweat.

“But I like telling you what to do.” You muse playfully, innocence lining your voice.

His eyes flutter, heart rate picking up as you dig your nails into the thick muscle of his thighs and drag downwards, Joel grunting the entire time to breathe through the pain.

The pistons in his brain were flying a million miles a minute. He couldn’t think, could barely speak, he had come more times today than he had all month, and it was driving him mad how you were using him like a little plaything. That was his job.

He finally decides to play nice, to give into the shifted power dynamic. He can’t take much more of this. His eyes soften and his jaw goes slack, a weak whimper passing through his lips as you suckle a hickey right next to his spent balls.

“Please, baby,” he gulps, slowly shaking his head and trying to look down at you. “Ain’t got nothin’ left.”

Now that sets you alight.

“What’s that you always say to me, Joel? You can give me one more, baby.” Your voice is seductive and sweet like honey, a Venus fly trap waiting to snap up any man in your wake.

He shakily breathes out a groveling whimper, knowing he can’t give you one more, he simply can’t. And that’s what he told you, several more times. But you weren’t satisfied with that weak excuse.

“Maybe you just need a little... motivation.” You coo, stripping yourself of your bra and panties as his eyes can’t help but lust over your pretty body he knows all too well.

Joel chews at his raw lower lip, bruised by his own teeth as you slowly spread your legs for him. He stares at your glorious cunt, sopping wet and calling his name. It’s tragic, the quiet sob that breaks from his throat as he gawks longingly. If you’d just let him have a taste…

He said he couldn’t, and he can’t. He was spent. His Adam’s apple bobs up and down in his throat as your hand slowly sinks down to your pretty pussy, fingers running up and down your slick as you let out a little gasp of pleasure.

Joel wriggles in his restraints again, desperate to touch and please you. He can only watch as your head lulls from side to side as you circle your clit and bury two fingers into your entrance until you’re knuckle deep, causing you to cry out his name.

“You want this pretty pussy, Daddy? Don’t make me ride you, you wouldn’t last a minute,” he’d never imagined you daring to ride him would be such a threat, but it was. You were right, he wouldn’t last, and he’d finish embarrassingly early. Like a damn teenager.

Then, the worst happens. He whimpers as his cock begins to swell all over again, fattening up as he goes semi-hard against his stomach.

You spot it almost immediately, a cocky grin on your lips as you crawl up the bed towards him. He whimpers and whines, clenching his eyes closed.

The man was afraid to let go. You decided to stop torturing him, wanting to reward him for being such a good submissive tonight.

“Wanna come on your face like you’ve been doing to me all night,” you hum as you work your way up the bed and straddle your cunt over his face, feeling the glide of his aquiline nose against your core and his hot breath fanning across your center. It gave you the chills.

You lay your head by his thigh and start pumping your hand around his massive dick, hearing him messily moan against your pussy as he eats you up like a starving man. Your sweet juices land on his tongue and lips, burying his tongue inside your walls before moving back to suckle against your throbbing clit.

You force your cries to be silent as you wrap your lips around him. The sensation of your hot mouth instantly makes him curse against you, whimpering loudly as he forces his face more into your pussy to hide his pathetic whines.

He’s so needy, he’s so close, and you taking him all the way down your throat, gagging around his thick cock wasn’t going to make him last much longer.

You hollow your cheeks and flatten your tongue, feeling his tip hit the back of your throat more times than you can count. He’s pulsing inside of your mouth. One, two, maybe three more bobs of your head, and he’s bucking his hips into your sloppy mouth, spit slathering down his dick and puddling at his balls.

His tongue flicks devilishly fast against your clit, causing you to moan around his shaft as he spills hot load after hot load down your throat. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as you greedily take it all, your own finish landing on Joel’s tongue not even seconds later.

Your jaw is aching, throat swollen once you finally pull your mouth from him.

“Such a good fucking man finishing for me, good job, Daddy,” you gulp after swallowing his musky come.

The room smells of sex and is filled with both of your exhausted pants. Joel’s wrists are rubbed raw from the leather, and he comes so hard that he sees stars behind his eyes while his girl’s juices lay tainted on his tastebuds.

He’s not so sure if you’re a God or the Devil, but he’s sure he wouldn’t have it any other way.

psycho masterlist | main masterlist | notifications blog

#joel miller #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal the last of us #pedro pascal joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller one shot #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #tlou #tlou fic #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #hellishjoel #joel miller x reader #joel tlou #brat tamer!joel

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jungk0oksthighs · 2 years

Text

happy birthday loser; jjk x reader; 18+

summary: after three years of simping over your roommate, you give him one hell of a birthday celebration. idiots to lovers pwp oneshot. literally zero plot

warnings: explicit smut, mutual thirsting, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, squirting, loud filthy (unprotected) sex. wrap before u tap

a/n: happy birthday jungkook! this is my first oneshot in 4+ years so be gentle w me please, usually i prefer to write series but i wanted to challenge myself and ofc write something special for everybody's favourite maknae's birthday. enjoy!

word count: 8k

On Thursdays you cook burgers for dinner.

But today isn’t just a regular Thursday.

It’s your roommates birthday, his twenty-fifth to be exact, so when you ventured to the grocery store last night you were sure to pick up the ingredients for his favourite meal in preparation for tonight. Samgyeopsal.

Pork belly is his favourite meat, you’ve been subjected to many a conversation about how tasty he finds it, how it’s the right balance of protein and fat, how it goes with anything, how he likes to wrap the succulent meat in lettuce leaves before submerging it into sauce and shoving it into his mouth.

It’s his favourite food without a shadow of a doubt. And so you’ve taken it upon yourself to cook it for him on his birthday. He is your favourite person after all, without a shadow of a doubt.

Jungkook moved in with you three years ago, at a very dark time in your life when you were wallowing in your post-breakup blues. You initially met the triple threat of tall, dark and handsome Jungkook at an open mic night when he struck up a conversation with you at the local bar.

As if being gorgeous isn’t enough, he’s a very talented singer and guitarist too, he and his grungy rock band like to play at bars and clubs on weekends. When he’s not busy at his nine to five as a software engineer, where he’s due to be leaving any minute now.

The more you got to know him you quickly realised he’s somewhat of a loser. Not a loser in the sense of having no friends and nothing significantly interesting about him – not in the slightest. Jungkook is a loser in the sense that he’s extremely introverted, painfully so, and lacks social skills.

He prefers to stay home after a gig, he doesn’t care for parties or girls or even much alcohol. He loves the quiet life, spending most evenings glued to his laptop to play videogames or sat beside you on the sofa binging something on Netflix. When he's not running his expert fingers over the nooks and crannies of his guitar.

Truthfully you’ve been kind of infatuated with him for a while now, he’s just so endearing and rib-shatteringly hilarious without even trying. It’s hard not to fall for him. His smile is earth-shatteringly perfect, his touch more so. You are but a woman after all, and a woman has needs and desires just like everybody else.

Jungkook being what you both need and desire daily.

At the time you met him a relationship was the last thing on your mind. Him moving into your spare bedroom was just a way to make up the rent and bill money your ex-boyfriend used to pay. But now you’re three years single save for the very occasional one night stand and Jungkook has never looked more appealing.

Maybe it’s the way he helps you reach snacks on the highest shelf when your tiptoes fail you. Perhaps it has a little something to do with the sweet melodies that flow from his pierced lips, flooding the apartment whenever he showers. It could be the fact he likes to ‘air-dry’ and parades around the place wearing nothing but a damp towel after said showers. Or it might have something to do with the way the supple skin beneath his big brown doe-eyes crinkles when he smiles.

But maybe, maybe, it’s because he’s everything you never realised you were looking for – until it quite literally showed up on your doorstep and moved in.

Okay so maybe you’re down bad for your roommate, but who in their right mind wouldn’t be? If you had to pick one word to describe Jungkook it would be… Perfect, handsome, funny, sweet, sentimental, ripped, gorgeous, talented. Any of those work just fine, it would be an insult to simply pick just one.

One of the many perks about living with Jungkook is that you’re both organised messy people, sure there’s some clutter here and there throughout the apartment but you both know damn sure what junk is where. Your personalities match, you don’t make the rules, they just do. All your friends say it, as do his friends. You'd be a show-stopping couple for sure.

It’s just that well… The man is somewhat emotionally constipated, can’t smell what’s right under his nose no matter how many hints you’ve given. Like a nose-blind lion on the prowl, there's a willing zebra right here, but he hasn't seemed to notice.

Wearing low-cut shirts at dinner, skirts that are a little too short, always making sure your makeup is clean and dewy looking even when wearing sweats. The innocent flirting that’s nowhere near innocent on your end. You shower him with compliments on the daily, being sure you don't appear too indifferent or nonchalant about it. You mean every compliment you've ever given him.

You like him, but you didn’t realise how frustrating that would prove to be giving his obliviousness.

But that all ends tonight.

You’re wearing a simple black slip dress, the smooth fabric ending just below the curve of your ass and the straps are so dainty that he’s bound to notice your exposed cleavage. Maybe even the lace trim of your sheer bra too, complete with a matching thong of course.

It’s not uncommon for you to get dressed up randomly, even before Jungkook moved in, you’ve always liked making an effort and looking pretty. It makes you feel good, confident even. You even went as far as to shave today, ensuring you're extra smooth, yknow just in case.

It's been a whole eleven months since you invited a guy back here, and the outcome was less than satisfying. Much like all your sexual endeavours, he got his and all you got was the ick. You haven’t seen the guy since.

It’s been a hot minute since Jungkook invited a girl back here too, maybe even over a year now. The way your roommate likes to saunter around half-dressed with long, messy brunette hair and a wicked smile has always affected you, made your mouth dry and your panties damp. Truthfully you don’t understand how a guy like that is single, well maybe it's because he doesn’t appear to have a radar for women, but you’re grateful nonetheless.

Black helium balloons fill your lounge, the big ‘25’ being the most obvious. You’ve spent the day mentally preparing for this, you want to show him how much you appreciate everything he does for you and celebrate his birthday properly. From him always prepping extra breakfast in the mornings just to make sure you’ve eaten, to his inked fingertips giving you back massages when you’ve hit the gym a little too hard. He’s usually the one to cook dinner most nights, so tonight you want to return the favour with a smile.

You’re just about to start prepping dinner when the unmistakable sound of his key in the door sends a rush of excitement through you. He’s home.

“Hey loser.” Jungkook’s voice is casual when he slips into the apartment, you’re too busy reapplying lip gloss to get a good look at him just yet.

“Good evening.” You chuckle, clamping the handheld mirror shut and sliding it into a kitchen draw.

You don’t know when it started, nor who started it. But the two of you like to use the term loser as a term of… almost endearment. It’s an inside joke between you both, friends and family members often gasp at the nickname you have for each other but for you? The word loser started to make your heart flutter and squeeze a long time ago. Finally you peer to the doorway and acknowledge him with a kind smile, one he’s reciprocating already.

“Happy birthday loser.”

As always he looks good enough to eat. His chiselled yet soft features, tanned skin, the little beauty mark nestled just beneath those very inviting lips of his. The muscles that threaten to tear through the fabric of his clothes. The tattoos that peak out from his sleeve cuffs. The piercings, his long dark hair that parts in the middle and frames those very handsome, genetic lottery winning features of his. You fight a teenage-like sigh, just looking at him is enough to make your heart race.

“What’s all this..?” His eyes scan the room as he shimmies out of his blazer, leaving him in a black shirt tucked into slacks of the same colour. His favourite colour is black, almost everything he owns is black, hence the fitting colour of the birthday decorations. “Are you making pork?” His angled chin tips in your direction, lazy footsteps bringing him closer.

“Mhm.” You nod, suppressing a grin, “You like pork belly, right? I thought it was your favourite.”

He’s nodding along to the sound of your voice, still smiling, “No I do, it is. It’s just we usually have burgers on a Thursday.”

“Ahh, but today isn’t just Thursday,” You remind him with a mischievous wink, “It’s your birthday, Thursday the 1st of September.”

“Congratulations you know how to read my drivers license.” Jungkook snorts when he props himself onto the kitchen countertop, next to your little workstation, “You look nice.”

“Thank you.”

“You didn’t have to do all this yknow.”

“I wanted to.” You hum, turning on the stove.

“But what if I already have plans to celebrate my birthday?” His pierced brow quirks, the silver barbel glimmering beneath the harsh kitchen lighting.

You tut, fighting the urge to roll your eyes when you glare at him and see his nose is already scrunched playfully, “Do you have plans?”

“Looks like I do now!” He claps, taking a beat before cocking his head to one side, his features softening upon watching you cook, “Thank you Y/N.”

Looking him dead in the eye you offer a genuine smile, “Anytime.”

“Would you be offended if I showered before we ate? The AC at work broke and this shirt feels sticky.” He sighs, cracking his neck.

“Why would I be offended?” A light puff of air rips from your nostrils when he fails to respond, his features blanketed with uncertainty and confusion. He really is emotionally constipated.

“No, I wouldn’t be offended loser. Go shower.” You’re giggling, shaking your head in disbelief, “It’ll be ready by the time you’re finished.”

“You’re the best!” He hops off the counter, making sure to spank your ass before skipping into the bathroom. “Happy birthday to me indeed.” He chuckles, winking in your direction before he closes the door behind him.

It’s always like this, the playful flirts and touches, but you crave something more. You want him to shove his tongue so far down your throat he could eat you out at the same time. You want to feel his tattooed hands to explore every square inch of your body while he fucks you into oblivion. The thought alone is enough to frustrate you.

Maybe you should just hop on top of him one night in front of the TV. Sometimes you do sit on his thighs, his ridiculously strong thighs, if there’s a lack of seating. You sigh dramatically, mentally debating whether the large sofa would fit through the window. If there’s nowhere to sit you’d have to sit on him. Problem solved. All you have to do is throw the fucking sofa out the window and pray he takes the hint. Easy enough.

The sizzling meat in the pan is interrupted by the sound of the bathroom door opening, revealing a cloud of steam and a shirtless Jungkook, tattoos and muscles displayed in all their glory. He’s wearing nothing but Calvin Klein boxer shorts, grey ones, that leave fuck all to the imagination.

“Forgot my towel.” He chuckles awkwardly, briefly heading into his bedroom to retrieve said towel. That damn white towel. What would he do if there were no towel? Walk around bare-ass with his dick on show? Maybe you could throw the towel out the window instead, it would be much easier than the sofa.

“You okay?” Jungkook’s presence startles you, he’s right next to you with furrowed brows and his stupidly muscular arms crossed over his chest, towel draped on his shoulder. “You zoned out again, thinking about anything good?” He’s laughing, wetting his lips between smiles.

Your gaze flickers to the bumps of his toned abdomen before settling on his face, he’s smiling brightly at you, seemingly unaware of the carnal desire you have to pin him to the kitchen floor and mount him right now.

“I’m fine, go get your shower.” You act indifferent, prompting a quiet, unconvinced ‘oookay’ from your roommate before he’s gone again.

You’re genuinely entertaining the idea of throwing out, no wait burning that sofa now, Jungkook’s thighs have always been way comfier anyway.

Interestingly enough the timing of his shower is perfect, you’re plating up dinner on the coffee table when he’s finished. Making sure to grab a bottle of soju from the cupboard, he’s not much of a drinker but you figure it is his birthday after all. Dragging two plump cushions from the sofa you’ve suddenly grown a strong hatred toward, you sit on one, leaving the other free for the birthday boy himself.

“Oh my god this smells great,” Jungkook comically inhales until his chest, his bare chest, is full of air. “Have you watched those 365 days movies? Someone at work recommended them to me earlier.” He says nonchalantly while sitting next to you, only wearing that damn white towel over his hips. The scent of his coconut bodywash clings to his beefy frame and floods your senses.

“The sex movies?” You laugh, handing him chopsticks all while trying to keep your gaze on his face. Somewhat a difficult challenge considering he's half naked. Again. “I’ve heard they’re really graphic with basically no plot, just steamy sex scenes, bad accents and a hot guy with tattoos.”

“Ah, you do like a man with tattoos.” He sniffs, fingertips lingering on yours while he grips the utensils, “Well since it’s my birthday I say we watch them. Seokjin at work said they're pretty good.”

“Okay,” You shrug, “But since when do you know about what kind of man I like?”

At this Jungkook grins, finding the remote and switching on Netflix, “You’ve only ever brought two guys back here since I moved in, both had tattoos. It’s a reasonable assumption to make.”

“Valid.” You’re nodding, beginning to tuck into the food, “I guess I do like men with tattoos, yeah.”

“Yeah?” He asks, gently elbowing your side. When you glance at him he’s smiling, wiggling his thick eyebrows animatedly while gesturing to his dark sleeve tattoo. “I’m a man with tattoos.”

“That you are.” You wink, praying to every higher power that one of these days he's going to acknowledge you're a woman. A woman with a vagina. A vagina that needs stuffing immediately.

“Shit Y/N this is amazing,” Jungkook’s frowning while he chews, a crystal clear sign that he’s enjoying the food you’ve made, “You should cook this more often, so much better than burgers. Fuck,” He moans, dark lashes dusting his face when he squeezes his eyes shut, “So good. So fucking good. Best birthday meal ever.”

This is how most of your nights together are spent, sat witching TV on the floor while eating dinner and enjoying each other’s company. You’re coming to the end of your meal when the first sex scene in the movie starts playing, well, okay not really. The characters aren’t having sex but she’s tied up to the bed watching someone else suck off the sexy guy with tattoos. Your brows are hiked up your forehead, eyes wide, this is not where you thought the plot was going.

“Would you ever do anything like that?” Your roommate asks with his last mouthful of food, watching the TV while running a hand through his damp long hair, “Maybe not the kidnapping part but would you ever wanna watch someone have sex?”

“Nah,” You shake your head, “Not for me. What about you?”

“For sure.” He affirms with a nod, still staring at the screen, “But I’d rather be watched than be the one watching. Especially if I was into the girl, I’m way too jealous for shit like that.”

Ignoring the way his response sends a shiver down your spine you swallow your food, “Aren’t you a little socially awkward to put yourself in that kind of situation? No offence.”

“None taken, I am an awkward guy,” He snorts, “But I don’t know, the idea of someone seeing me absolutely destroy someone kinda gets me going… I like the idea of being watched. Don’t you have anything like that?”

You gulp, “Like what?”

“Any kinks or fantasies.”

“I guess so… Doesn’t everybody?”

At this Jungkook takes it upon himself to pause the movie, giving you his full, undivided attention, “Tell me some.”

“Jungkook…” Your sigh shifts into an awkward giggle, truthfully he is your fantasy. And that towel doesn’t leave much to your imagination, if anything at all. But it doesn’t take you long to crumble, “Okay fine, what do you wanna know?”

“Where would you most like to have sex?” He’s smirking, hooded eyes boring into the depths of your soul, “Anywhere in the world, go.”

“Hmm… I don’t know actually, I’ve never thought about it. What about you?”

“My bed.”

You deadpan, a single brow quirked, “Your bed?”

“It’s comfy, it smells nice, and I can go to sleep after without worrying about getting home since I’m already here. Of course my bed is the number one choice.” He’s looking at you as though you’re stupid, as though his answer is obvious when he scoffs.

“Okay… that’s fair enough.”

Jungkook’s watching you closely, and you swear you see his vision drop to your chest for a millisecond before settling back on your eyes, “What would your ideal guy do to you in bed?”

Sucking in a breath of air you’re already nodding, “Easy. The ideal guy isn’t selfish and knows how to make me come, maybe even squirt. No guys ever made me do either. Your turn.”

“None of the guys you’ve slept with have made you come? What the fuck! Um-, okay…” He licks his teeth before making noises akin to car turning lights, emphasising his thoughts, “The ideal woman is bossy, not dominant but knows what she wants and tells me how to do it. I like vocal women, women who aren’t scared of their own voice. Plus the ideal can actually ride me, the amount of women that give up after four bounces is kinda disappointing.”

Suddenly your mouth feels very dry, prompting you to swallow nothing. Thankfully you’ve never heard Jungkook having sex, there’s been a couple of times you’ve heard heavy breathing and little whimpers from his bedroom but it’s always when he’s alone in there. Guys masturbate, it would be unreasonable to expect him not to do it when you’re home. Plus you’ve definitely gotten yourself off while he’s slept in the next room, you have zero room to talk.

“Really? Four bounces?” Your voice betrays you slightly, wavering with curiosity.

“Yeah. Don’t get me wrong I don’t mind doing all the work, it’s just annoying when they talk a big game and put in minimal effort. Just be upfront about wanting me to be in charge, you know? I like being in charge it’s no big deal.”

You’re shaking your head, frowning with an uncertain smile, “Then what are you complaining about?”

At this the birthday boy sighs exasperatedly, as though you’re missing the point, “It’s just annoying isn’t it? When you think somethings gonna go a certain way and then it doesn’t…”

“Tell me about it.” You snort, pouring two shots of peach soju.

“Okay,” Jungkook takes the shot of soju, snapping his fingers excitedly, seemingly unphased by the bitter taste of alcohol, “Who do you wanna sleep with more than anyone in the world? Who’s your number one?”

Slinging back the soju, you bite the bullet with an devilish smirk.

“Hmmm… You.”

Stone cold regret washes over you when he looks through you, the same way he looks at people he’s not comfortable with yet. The exact same expression he gives strangers when he doesn’t understand why he’s been roped into their conversations. His pierced lips purse, the Adam’s apple in his throat bobbing from a thick swallow. Eyes animatedly round, shocked and astonished.

“Uhh…” He wets his lips before his eyes narrow, brows pinching, “I’m being serious Y/N…”

You nod, “Me too but never mind.” You sigh dramatically, pouring more shots.

“Stop fucking around with me!” He playfully pushes your shoulder, earning embarrassed laughter to bubble in the depths of your throat, “You can’t just say that to me out of nowhere!”

“Out of nowhere?” You repeat, frustrated, “Jungkook I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve tried hitting on you and it just seems to go straight over your head.” You whine, lips forming a cute pout that he can’t stop staring at, “Anyway… Like I said, never mind. Forget I said anything. Who’s your number one?”

But Jungkook is too stunned to speak. He’s looking down at you as though you’ve just told him you want to marry him and have his babies. Surprised doesn’t cut it, nor does confused. It’s a deadly cocktail of the two mixed with a little nervousness tugging his usually sharp features up and wide.

“I-, what?” He blinks away his daydream, “Are you being serious? You actually wanna fuck me? I can’t tell. You know I’m bad with stuff like this. Spell it out for me loser.”

At this you shake your head, feeling deflated, “It doesn’t matter, honestly just forget I said anything, you don’t find me attractive so it’s not like it’s ever gonna—”

“Now you’re putting words in my mouth.”

An agitated exhale leaves you, your roommate still staring at you expectantly with a single brow quirked, “You don’t have to say it out loud Kook, it’s obvious.”

“Wow, you really don’t know me at all, do you?” His white teeth are bared in a dazzling panty-dropping grin, “Why do you think I’m sitting here in a towel Y/N? Just out of curiosity.”

“Cause you like to ‘air-dry’.” You mimic air quotes with a mocking tone, slugging back another shot of soju. He does the same.

Jungkook’s voice drops into something akin to seductive, biting the inside of his cheek to suppress a huge smile, “Actually, I thought that maybe if I walk round the place half naked all the time you’d take the hint eventually. You think when I moved in friendship was the only thing on my mind?” He’s laughing now, shaking his head in disbelief, baffled, tongue darting over his lips to wet them. “You think when I came up to you at the bar all I wanted was to be your friend?”

“W-what are you saying? That you are attracted to me?” Your heart races away in your chest, a lick of heat wetting your spine when your roommate tilts his head to one side, smirking.

“Ask me who my number one is.”

“Okay… I’ll humour you. Who’s your number one?” You’re blushing, unable to wipe the smile from your features when he sucks in a harsh breath of air, watching you closely.

His inked hand finds the nape of your neck, tugging your face closer, close enough that your noses bang together and you both giggle. “You are, loser.”

The next thing you know he’s kissing you, and you’re kissing him back.

Where most make out sessions begin soft and slow, gentle and uncertain while both parties attempt to figure out what the other likes – that’s far from what’s happening here. It’s heated, it’s messy and fuelled by years of pent up frustration and longing. His grip moves to your jaw where he pries it open, slipping his tongue into your mouth at that exact moment.

“Oh… Jungkook…” You mewl, smiling triumphantly against his mouth.

Fucking finally.

“You have,” He pulls back, lips kiss-swollen and stained with lip gloss, “No idea,” His hands sneakily find your hips, guiding your body until you’re straddling his towel-clad thighs, “How long,” He’s smirking, palming the fat of your ass when his lips find your in a hurry, “I’ve wanted to fuck you.”

“Well why didn’t you say anything then?!” You frown, sighing in bliss when your dress is being pushed up, pooling your abdomen that’s full of pork belly and butterflies. Giving enough leeway for Jungkook’s fingertips to slip into the waistband of your underwear.

He chuckles into the kiss, averting his mouth to pepper your jawline with lots more dainty little kisses, whispering, “The same reason you didn’t, I didn’t know you were into me like that.”

“Except I tried, multiple times…” You hum, bottom lip tucked between your teeth. Palms explore Jungkook’s muscular back, every lump, bump, every inch of tanned bare flesh that you’ve seen simultaneously way too many times and not enough at all. “All the slutty outfits… The compliments, I’ve been pretty vocal about finding you attractive actually.” You’re grinning, fingertips toying with the long brunette hairs at the nape of his neck.

At this Jungkook sighs, lulling his head back to get a better look at your face. His eyes are blown dark with lust, his gaze hooded and intense. But it’s the breath-taking smile he wears that sends a rush of heat straight between your legs.

“I do like a woman who’s vocal about what she wants.” He winks, crushing his lips to yours once more, “So tell me what you want loser.”

“Want you.” You pout, elbows resting atop his broad shoulders when you brush the hair away from his face, physically incapable from breaking the string of messy kisses. He tastes like peaches and sin. “Want you to make me come.”

“Yeah?” He chuckles, ridding your body of the skimpy little dress that didn’t leave much to his imagination. “Wish you told me all this sooner, could’ve been blowing your back out daily by now.”

“Not my fault you can’t take a hint.” You snort, blood rushing to your cheeks when you see his hungry stare fixed to your almost bare body atop of his thighs.

He rolls his eyes, “You’re one to talk. Why do you think I put your snacks on the top shelf?”

“So you can help me reach them…?” You scoff, biting down on your lip, “So you look like a strong alpha man helping his poor defenceless vertically challenged roommate?”

“Nah,” He admits with throaty laughter, large palms exploring your curves and reaching round your back, until they’re unclasping your bra in one swift movement, “Like seeing your ass peek out the tiny little dresses you wear when you get on your tiptoes.”

Your mouth falls open in genuine shock, brows raised expectantly, “Jeon Jungkook!” You gasp, gripping his chin and angling it towards your lips, “Who knew you were such a fucking pervert?”

The man’s in a total daze, lost in your eyes with a bright smile, “You think that's perverted? You haven’t seen anything yet.”

Maybe this is a bad idea. Having wild, carnal, fringing-on-illegal sweaty hot passionate sex with your roommate. Maybe. But when your bare back hits his soft mattress with a ‘ooomf’ and he rids himself of that damn towel, you struggle to see past this moment right here, right now. Jungkook is naked, and it’s a glorious sight.

You’re grinning when he crawls up the bed, but to your surprise, no, rather to your excitement, he stops when his profile is faced with your underwear. Hooking his fingertips beneath your thong he smirks, gaze briefly meeting yours until he’s dragging your underwear beneath your ass and down your legs.

Being naked in front of Jungkook is something you’ve often thought about, it was the motivation behind your tactical shave earlier today, secretly praying this would happen. But now that you’re here, in his monochrome bedroom that smells of vanilla, on full display for the man you’ve been crushing on for so long. It all gets a little overwhelming.

“What are you doing?” He mumbles, thick brows pinched when you sheepishly shut your legs and stop him from seeing the whole show.

“I-, uh…” You swallow, clearing your throat, “It’s been a while…”

“And?”

“And I’m nervous.” You giggle, throwing your head back into his pillows.

At this he makes his way up to your face, knocking your legs apart with his knees to settle his weight between them. His strong arms hold his body in place, planted either side of your face. The way he’s peering down at you should be illegal, so smug yet there’s a glimmer of concern behind his sparkly eyes. It’s when he releases a breath of air against your face that his features soften into a faint smile, awestricken.

“I think you’re gorgeous Y/N, you don’t need to be nervous.”

“I haven’t had sex in almost a year…” You whisper, avoiding his gaze.

“And?” He repeats, chuckling mostly to himself, “Neither have I. And it didn’t stop you from using that noisy ass vibrator of yours the other night, did it?” Your eyes snap to his in a panic, he’s fully laughing now, the sound equal parts mischievous and salacious. “Walls are very thin…” He sniffs, tilting his chin to the wall his headboard rests on, backing onto your bedroom.

It’s after you sigh, beyond mortified that he heard such obscenities, that he sinks his lips to a sweet spot on your neck, sucking the flesh harsh enough to leave sensual bruises, “Let me make you feel good baby, I promise I’ll make you feel good… Don’t be nervous.” He murmurs, and you’re left breathless.

The pet name sends a rush of something strange over your body, you’re not used to him calling you anything other than loser. Maybe your name, but definitely not baby. You like it. While he’s working on making a total mess of your neck the familiar heat and lust comes back, stronger, deeper, and more determined.

“Jungkook… Please… W-want you to make me feel good.” You whisper, already in a daze.

It’s then that you feel him smirk against your skin, planting one final coy kiss to your lips before making his way down your body with one continuous lick that has your body aflame. His tongue never leaves you, travelling to your collarbones, your breasts. The flat wet muscle glides over your nipple and you gasp, brows furrowed in concentration.

“You’re so sensitive…” He hums, lapping up your nipple, taking it between his teeth and playfully sucking. Tiny whimpers and moans peep from your lips, along with the occasional gasp that has your roommate losing his goddamn mind. His tongue soon finds the other nipple, winning himself more of the same noises that are making his cock throb with anticipation already.

“So nobody’s ever made you come, huh?” He mumbles, “But you’re so fucking sensitive baby… Aren’t you?”

“Mhm…” You bite your lip, hands greedily smoothing over his bare shoulders. You want to feel his body, his entire body. You want it on top of you, next to you, underneath you, inside you. Perhaps it’s due to all the pent up frustration harboured toward him, but there’s a dull beat between your legs that you so desperately want him to listen to.

And then it hits you, Jungkook likes vocal women.

“Make me come please… Want you to make me come…” You moan, writhing around beneath him at the new found tingles all over your body. The cool air kisses your core when he spreads your thighs, sinking down the bed until he’s eye level with your bare pussy.

“Oh my god.”

His words win you to tug yourself up onto your elbows, a little curious. That’s when you find him staring at your vagina with pure astonishment. Lips ajar, brows hiked so far up his forehead that it’s wrinkled, a small surprised scoff hot against your flesh.

“What?” You frown, suddenly self-conscious, “What are you looking at?”

“What am I looking at?” He parrots, sighing with puffed out cheeks, “The prettiest pussy I’ve ever fucking seen, that’s what I’m looking at.”

“Oh.” You giggle, not knowing what to say.

You didn’t expect him to be so confident in the bedroom, so outspoken and complimentary. It’s no secret that he’s a very socially awkward man in the streets. Apparently a very different story to the personality he has between the sheets.

“You have the cutest little beauty mark…” He whispers, sinking his lips to your folds, “Right here.” He kisses you gently, and you feel like squealing. “Fuck, you’re addicting baby. Losing my mind down here.” He chuckles right before digging in.

He places a languid, drawn-out lick from your entrance to your clit, one so mind-numbingly slow that your toes curl against the sheets. He repeats this, once, twice, three, four, five times until he’s dipping his tongue between your folds with a whispered moan. It feels nice, feels good, but it's not enough.

“You plan on making me come any time soon, loser?” You playfully kick his shoulder, winning hot laughter against your centre.

It’s then that his arms hook under your thighs and he drags you closer to his waiting face, until his full lower-profile is smothered in your cunt. His chin, his multitalented lips, the soft bend of his nose, all of it. He playfully slaps your thighs and you take the hint, throwing your legs over those obnoxiously broad shoulders of his.

That’s when your guttural moan fills the air, when Jungkook starts lapping up your clit so expertly that you question whether the whole ‘shy, socially inept, cute boy’ persona he has going for him is just a façade.

He’s good at this. He’s fucking amazing at this. You’re gasping for air when he suckles on your clit, massaging the muscle with his tongue while it’s still being pulled between his lips. You groan, you hiss, you whimper. It feels indescribably fantastic, and there’s no way he’s not going to be able to get you off doing this.

“Holy shit, Jungkook.” You whine, hips pushing your core impossibly closer to his face. “Mmmph, oh—” Another long moan cuts you off, actually it’s more of a groan. A needy one at that.

His hooded stare flickers up to your face, watching your every move before him. “So sensitive.” He murmurs, sounding disbelieved.

Watching you wriggle and whimper for him only fuels his lust further. He takes it upon himself to push your legs onto your chest with one hand. Until your knees are to your breasts. You don’t complain at the new angle so he carries on, pulling away from your pussy for a second to spit on his fingers. Not that he thinks you’re going to need it, you're already drowning his sheets.

Unceremoniously he plunges two digits into you dripping walls, and you shriek.

“Jungkook, oh god, oh my god Jungkook…” You pant, eyes squeezed shut and mouth hanging open.

It’s a second later when his mouth reattaches to your clit and you’re borderline sobbing. You feel so full, like an elastic band being stretched to it’s limits. You’re going to snap soon, you know it. There’s a heat building in your gut, one that comes in rhythmic waves that match your racing heart.

That’s when something odd swells inside your stomach, something new and exciting and overwhelming. Jungkook’s fingers aren’t fucking in and out of you like you’d expect them to be, they’re consistently inside you, curling upward and pressing against a spot that very few people, yourself included, have ever managed to discover.

“Jungkook seriously what the-, fuck!” You warn him, eyes flying open in utter disbelief.

“Mmm?” He chuckles, his response lost to the sounds of your pornographically wet pussy squelching and sloshing around his fingers.

“I’m-, oh my fucking god…” You’re whining, whimpering, shivering. “Feels so fucking good.”

At this he moans in response, sucking your clit harder, hitting that spot inside you even harder, faster. You inhale sharply, preparing yourself for the earth-shattering ecstasy that’s sure to crash down on your body any second now. But strangely enough it isn’t the hold of your clit between your roommates lips that pushes you over the edge, nor is it the thrilling curl of his finger.

You peer down at him, his brows furrowed deep with concentration, the same way they are when he eats something delicious. His face is spinning and twisting to each and every side to make sure he’s licking and sucking all your nerve endings. And that’s when his heavy eyes flicker up at your mess of a face.

Jungkook winks.

And you squirt everywhere.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my fucking god!” You groan, watching the man who you’ve been simping over for years giggle against your skin as though he hasn’t just made a catastrophic mistake.

Because now you’ve experienced this side of him, there’s absolutely no way you can go back to just being roommates.

He doesn’t fold, doesn’t stop, nor does he slow. No. He carries on. Sucking, finger-fucking, licking, moaning, curling those digits and slurping at your pussy until it happens again. And again. And again.

And again.

“P-please…” Your body jumps and jolts on the mattress, convulsing from oversensitivity, your back damp with sweat and heart beating so fast you fear it’s going to implode any second now. “I-, I can’t take another one…” You pant, hands flying to the hairs at his scalp where you try and pry him aware from your core.

He hums in agreement, nodding along with your words all while wearing a big, dumb grin. “Okay.”

You’re fucked. Head spinning, reeling, brain unresponsive. Limbs already aching, you’ve never come this many times in one sitting to date. Not even with that ‘noisy-ass’ vibrator of yours. The distant sound of laughter forces you to come back to reality, finding Jungkook laid next to you with shiny lips and a wicked smirk. His head resting on the bend of his elbow, his pierced brow quirked curiously.

“I’ll give you a minute...” He’s laughing, tongue toying with his silver lip ring. A moment later he shifts on the bed, until he’s laid on his back and his entwined hands are tucked behind his head. A content smile broadens his features, a smug one, one that gives you a devilish idea.

Adrenaline and the need to have his cock inside you courses your veins, along with a hint of arrogance. That’s what leads you to sitting up, mouth falling open when you catch sight of Jungkook’s huge cock, rock hard and waiting. Oh you’re about to give him the best birthday present in the world. He wants a woman that can ride him? Who can last longer than four bounces?

Challenge accepted.

Carefully, you throw your leg over his waist until you’re hovering over his muscular body. He really is huge, by every ridiculous definition of the word. Lazily, he opens his eyes before they grow wide with surprise at your current position.

“Oh?” He chuckles, hungrily exploring your naked body with his stare, as though he hasn’t been ogling it for the past however long you’ve been in here. “I’ll warn you now, if you’re any good at this I’m gonna have to take you on a date.”

“We’re going out on a date regardless.” You snort, gripping the base of his shaft, shit, he’s big, “Since you’re the only guy around here who knows how to make me come.”

“Suits me just fine loser, I'll take you on a date. If you're lucky I'll make you squirt again at the dinner table.” He grins, wetting his lips. “Let me rephrase then, if you ride me like you mean it I’ll take you on the best date of your life this weekend.”

“Deal.” You wink, chest swelling.

You pump his cock a few times before you sink yourself down onto it with a long, shaky moan.

“Holy shit… baby…” He pants, tugging at his own hair with furrowed brows.

Jungkook’s eyes flutter shut but you can just about make out them rolling back into his skull behind his lashes. It’s when you’re fully settled onto his cock that you bite your lip, picking yourself up only to slam down onto him with a loud wet smack. His doe-eyes snap open at lightening speed, a drawn-out grown rumbling his strong chest.

“Fuck!” He gasps, jaw slack and eyes wide.

You grin down at him triumphantly, clearly he didn’t know you were capable of making him feel just as good as he made you feel. You repeat the motion, harder. You do it again, and again, until Jungkook’s hissing and messily gripping your hips in a hurry.

“Y/N… What the fuck?!” He stifles a moan when he bites his lip, mesmerised by the way your pussy squeezes his cock each and every time you pull yourself up and drop back onto it. “Seriously what the fuck are you made of, oh my-, fuck—”

It’s at this moment you brace yourself on his chest with splayed hands, keeping your body steady before you ride him like your existence depends on it. Like there’s no tomorrow. Like you’re the only two people on earth. There’s a hot burn in your thighs but you don’t let up, bouncing on him consistently, pace never faltering.

He’s so big that you fear you’ll split open, but you welcome the underlining sting of being this stuffed. Obscene wet noises along with the sound of the bed squeaking in sync with your movements fill the air. Beneath you Jungkook is a moaning mess, he’s chewing on his lips as though that’ll stop the profanities and groans from escaping him – but it doesn’t.

“Baby… Oh we definitely-, oh shit-,” He hisses, hands snaking round to your ass cheeks where he squeezes them like they’re his favourite stress-balls, “We should’ve done this-, way-, waaaay sooner.” He moans again, head thrown back into his pillow.

You’re slamming down on him with force, so much intent behind your bounces that the crown of his cock hits your cervix each time without fail. The sight before you will be burned into your memory forever. Jeon Jungkook, panting, whimpering, trying his absolute best to keep it together all while you ride him to heaven and hell and back again.

“You like it when I ride this fat cock of yours?” You moan, usually you’re not one for dirty talk but you simply can’t help yourself. He looks… Feral. And it’s only spurring you on even more. “You’re so big Jungkook, fuck, feels so fucking good inside me…”

“You-, you’re…” He can’t get his words out, they’re dying in the back of his throat, lost to the ‘mmmphs’ and ‘ooohhhs’ he delivers every time you drop down on him. “Do I l-like it? Fuck. Best-, mmmph, best fucking pussy... Slow down baby, please.” He whines, the sound has your lower abdomen in utter turmoil, another orgasm threatening to ripple your body.

You do as he says, he is the birthday boy after all. Besides, there’s no way in hell this is going to be the only time you’ll ride him. Your evenings together are going to look a whole lot different from now on, that's for sure.

The speed of your ministrations slows, but the depth and force does not. You’re still fucking yourself on his hard length with so much purpose that you feel his knees buckling, thick thighs twitching beneath you.

“Baby, fuck…” He rasps, “Ohhh fuck! Mmmph…” It’s like he’s mesmerised, mouth hanging open and eyes incapable of looking anywhere but you. He's completely infatuated with the way you feel atop of him.

You feel a hand snake up to the nape of your neck before you’re being pulled toward his face, his lips smashing against yours in another series of messy, desperate kisses. Gritting your teeth when the white hot heat inside your walls threatens to snap, Jungkook feels your sopping walls clench around his girth and groans into your mouth.

“Again? Ohhh...” He hisses, trying his best to sound cocky but it’s less than convincing when he too is a whimpering mess. “You’re a fucking goddess Y/N-, ohhhh.” He pants, finding your hips with tattooed hands where he holds them in place.

It’s a moment later when he plants his feet flat against the mattress, bending his knees, showcasing his strength when he keeps you in one place above him. That’s when he fucks you hard, as though he’s punishing you for something. Thrusting in and out of you so violently that you’re blubbering into the crook of his neck.

“Fuck! Right there, right fucking there!” You cry out, voice almost lost to the brutal clapping noises of you being fucked ten ways to Sunday.

Each rut of his hips has you seeing stars, he feels so fucking good inside you. So deep. His pelvis is knocking against your swollen clit, be it intentional or accidental you'll never know - but it has you spiralling into insanity.

A long, vocal moan tears from your throat when you’re hit with another orgasm. You feel boneless, as though you’ve just discovered the real definition of pleasure. You’re so wet that he’s sliding in and out of you with ease now, the pulsing of you walls throwing him over his own edge until he thrusts into you one final time.

It's deeper, he's holding your hips in place, dragging them impossibly closer to his body when he fills you with his come. Breathless and sweaty.

“Baby… Oh my… god.” He chokes out between ragged breaths, and you can’t help but giggle into his skin.

Moments later you’re rolling off him, too weak to adjust the position you land in but you do throw a leg over his thighs with a smile. Heavy breathing and quiet chuckles bring you back down to earth, forcing you to gaze over at your roommate.

Jungkook’s already looking at you like he’s madly in love, as though you’ve just offered to do this every day with him for the rest of your lives. When you wet your lips and smirk you register his cock twitching against his abdomen, he really is shameless. And by the look on his face, he isn’t even close to being through with you.

"Best. Birthday. Ever." He pants, absolutely befuddled that he's just had sex, mind-blowingly, indescribable sex with his roommate, the same roommate he's been fawning over for a long time now.

You send him a wink before pulling his face to yours, there's no fucking way you're done with him either.

“Happy birthday loser.”

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