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hollybell51 · 1 year

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Castiel x AFAB!fem!Reader

Supernatural (2005)

Word count: 9.6K (I'm shocked too dw)

Summary: I have no idea how to describe this I'm so sorry it's just smut. There's also some morning-after shenanigans. Believe me if I could I would but thinking of a title was hard enough.

Content: Just... pretty much 9.6K words of shameless Cas smut because I love him. Only one bed, porn with a plot, friends to lovers (sort of), little bit of hurt/comfort and first aid (?), Cas is a bit of warning honestly. Smut: Cas is a virgin, first kiss, making out, hickeys, blowjob, handjob, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (yikes), fingering, very very light dirty talk, very loving very gentle sex, sharing a bed. Dean is a bit of an oblivious idiot, Sam is less oblivious.

Notes: I wrote this while trying to fall asleep at my friend's house and didn't proof read. I've also only known Cas for six episodes (almost seven), so most of the characterisation for him is based of gifsets, incorrect quotes, and other fanfics (so is the lore/plot because I'm not that far into the series yet but I was impatient so just ignore any mistakes or plot inconsistencies if you find them, although I did try). Hence it's probably bad. But oh well, this wouldn't leave my brain until I wrote it and like I said I'm impatient and also I'm a little bit proud of the smut alone and he's fucking hot I mean come on. Dean Winchester is a better man than me because god damn I would've jumped his bones the second he looked at me and I have no idea how he didn't. Be nice.

Cas was watching you. Again. It wasn’t like you minded, but something about his cool eyes following your movements from across the booth made butterflies swirl in your stomach. You were acutely aware of every single bubble in your glass of lemonade, every clink of the ice cubes, every slurpy noise it made through the straw you were sucking on. You probably looked a bit stupid, hunched over your drink and the plate that had contained your burger, the huge shirt you’d borrowed from Sam while the one you’d packed for yourself dried rolled up to your elbows, hanging off your shoulders way too much to ever be considered cute. Not that you wanted to look cute, and not that it mattered, but…

“There’s a pharmacy down the street,” Sam was saying. “They’d probably have more of that antiseptic, right?”

There was a pause in which you snuck a glance at Cas. His gaze was fixed on the bubbles clustering on your straw, mildly interested as they formed and floated away, formed and floated, again and again in an endless cycle. You’d never found bubbles so fascinating, but now that you looked – and you knew he was looking too – there’d never been anything so beautiful.

“(Y/N)?”

Right, yeah, antiseptic. The cut on your shoulder seemed to itch at the thought, prickling under the carefully applied dressing. You’d done it on a barbed wire fence that had barred the entry to a nest of vampires, and a day later Sam was still worried it would get infected. It wasn’t exactly a clean cut – the fence had been filthy, and your assurance that yes, you were up to date with tetanus shots had stopped him driving you to a hospital. You appreciated the concern, but really, you were sure it would be fine.

“Mhm,” you answered, leaning back in your seat. “D’you think it’ll still be open?”

Beside you, Dean frowned, looking around for a clock. “It’s not that late, right?”

“There’s an open sign in the window.” All eyes swung to Cas, who shrugged, pointing. “It’s lit up,” he added.

“Oh, right,” you said faintly. “Thanks Cas.”

He smiled, a tiny twitch of his lips that had no right to make your heart speed up as much as it did. “That’s ok.”

You smiled back. Your face seemed determined to ignore your brain and grin like an idiot, and it was a damn struggle to keep it to a normal expression.

“Right,” Sam said, clearing his throat and bursting the little bubble you could have sworn you’d been stuck in. You would have liked to stay there, where it was just Cas smiling at you. But no, you were being silly.

“Right,” you echoed. There was a slightly awkward silence, in which you swirled your straw around idly, watching Cas watch the movement of ice cubes and bubbles. When you’d first met him, you hadn’t really believed he was an angel. He seemed so… ordinary. Shabby, even. But the longer you were around him, the surer you’d become that he was the real deal. Strange, not what you’d expected at all, but a real honest-to-goodness angel nonetheless. Even now that he was human, there was still definitely something otherworldly in Cas. Something that, despite the grime and rust of the lives all four of you lead, was almost pure, precious to you, and a little unnerving all at once.

“Do you want some?” you asked, gesturing to your drink.

Cas’s eyes snapped up, almost guiltily.

You smiled. “Lemonade.”

He nodded slowly.

“Here.” You pushed the glass across the table, leaning your chin on your hands and watching as he moved the straw around, then sipped it. You’d been having way too much fun plying him with new things to taste, since food now actually tasted like… food. As opposed to molecules. Apparently.

He wrinkled his nose, drawing back and staring at the glass. Then he leaned forward again and took another sip. There was something in his near-childlike wonder that made your heart ache, the appearance of innocence and naivety so profound that it was hard to remember he was – had been – a soldier. A divine soldier of God. Watching him made you want to reach across the table and just… Well, you didn’t know what it made you want to do. Grab him, maybe? It didn’t matter.

“Any good?” Dean asked, watching Cas mildly.

“It’s very sweet,” he reported. “And sticky.”

Despite yourself, you laughed.

Cas surveyed you, then gave another of those little smiles you’d come to treasure. He took another sip, his eyes never leaving your face.

You cleared your throat, suddenly hyper aware of exactly where you were and what you were supposed to be doing. Not staring at – “mooning over” Dean had teasingly called it not even three days ago, a thought that still plagued you – Cas, that was for sure. You slid out of the booth, since you were the one who needed the antiseptic and you were on the edge. “I’ll go across, meet you back at the hotel.”

“You sure?” Sam asked, watching as you dropped some money on the table. Enough to cover your burger and a small portion of the tip.

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry.” You turned towards Cas, shooting him a small smile. He looked a little confused, and you couldn’t deny the pang of guilt that tugged at your insides. “You can finish that off,” you told him, “if you want.”

“Thankyou,” he said after a moment.

“Yeah, sure.” You nodded to Sam and Dean, the former of whom was staring between you and Cas with a look of what could only be described as incredulity plastered across his face. You were going to ignore it, you decided. “Seeya later,” you said, and left.

You stood before the motel room, shopping bag in hand, staring at Sam’s text. Had he and Dean done this deliberately? Was this some kind of conspiracy between the two of them?

“Room 09,” the message read, “you’re sharing with Cas.” And then, shortly after; “Don’t worry, it’s a double.”

Well, you thought, at least you wouldn’t have to share a bed, and at least you wouldn’t have to deal with the guilt of Cas taking the couch – even though he insisted he didn’t mind, and refused to let you do it.

Just as you raised your hand to knock, the door swung open and there stood the former angel, still in his beige trench coat, tie and all. He hadn’t even taken his shoes off.

“Hi,” you said, slightly breathless. There was something stupidly endearing about the way he just stood there, looking at you.

“Hi,” he repeated. “Do you want to come in?”

“Uh, yeah.” Awkwardly, you squeezed past him into the dully lit room, switching on the light with your elbow. Had he just been sitting in here by himself, in the dark? You hoped not, but at the same time, it was exactly the sort of thing you could imagine him doing.

You deposited your groceries – the antiseptic, a new packet of dressings, painkillers, and a twix you’d grabbed at the counter. You’d figured you could share it with whoever your roomie was, and now you were glad you’d had that foresight. You turned, surveyed the room, then did a double take. Surely not. There had to be something you were missing.

But no, on closer inspection, your eyes were not deceiving you. There was only one bed. A double bed, sure, but still only one bed.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you muttered, already reaching for your phone.

“What’s wrong?” Cas asked, a concerned wrinkle appearing between his brows.

“Sam said this was a double,” you told him.

“It is.”

“Yeah, but there’s only one bed. I always feel bad kicking you to the couch.”

“I don’t mind. And besides,” he added, “you’ve never kicked me.”

“No it’s–” you broke off, catching his smile. “Yeah, alright”

The smile widened. He was a little too proud of himself for your liking.

You looked away, hoping to hide your own grin as you dialled Sam’s number. “You said it was a double,” you accused before he could even greet you.

“Yeah, hi to you too,” he snorted. “It is.”

“There’s only one bed, Sam. Does your room have only one bed?”

“No, we’ve got two singles.”

“Lucky you,” you practically spat. “Now I’m gonna have to live with the guilt of knowing Cas is on the couch.”

“So?” You could almost hear the frown in Sam’s voice. “He doesn’t mind.”

“I know, but–”

“Share the bed with him if it bothers you that much,” he cut you off. In the background, Dean was saying something. Sam shushed him. “I’m sure he’d be happy to.”

“What’s that supposed to–”

He interrupted you again, all too cheerful. “You’ll sort it out.”

You stared at the phone, “call ended” flashing up at you. “Fuck you, Sam,” you sighed.

By the door, Cas frowned. “Is something the matter?”

“No,” you sighed again, grabbing the dressings and antiseptic and taking a seat on the end of the singular bed. Through the gap in the curtains, the sky was darkening from the pale purple it had been at the diner to a deep indigo. “Just… Sam.”

Cas nodded solemnly, as if he knew exactly what you meant.

You tried not to pay too much attention to him as you unbuttoned Sam’s shirt, sliding it down off your shoulder to bare the current dressing. You’d had it on all that day and the night before, so you figured it was time to change it. Gently, you peeled back the adhesive, hissing as the air brushed over the cut. It wasn’t as bad as it had been, mostly scabbed over and less raw-looking than when you’d first applied the dressing, but it was still tender. It was awkward to reach too, running from your shoulder along your collarbone, stopping just shy of the centre of the sternum. Stupid, you’d cursed yourself when you’d done it, and you cursed yourself again now.

“Would you like some help?”

You looked up, meeting Cas’s eyes. Soundlessly, he’d crossed the room and was now standing directly in front of you.

He gestured to the cut. “It looks hard to reach.”

“Uh, yeah, it is.” You shifted over, making room for him beside you. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” He sank down beside you, his weight tilting you towards him. Your stomach lurched.

Determinedly dismissing it, you turned slightly to face him, one leg dangling off the side of the bed, the other folded under you. Almost immediately you wished you hadn’t done it, because now all you could see was him, bent over you, his face impassive and focused to a fault.

He took the antiseptic from you, gently dabbing it along the edges of the scab.

“Is that alright?” he asked when you gasped softly.

“Mhm,” you nodded. “Just… stings a little.”

Guilt flashed across his face. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

“No, no, it’s not you. You’re fine,” you assured him. “It’s the antiseptic, it’s normal.”

“Should I keep going?”

You nodded, your heart racing. His skin was cool where it brushed yours, the shitty lighting somehow playing tricks with the colours in his eyes, making them appear even more startlingly blue than usual. Those eyes were fixed on your cut, like it was the only thing that mattered in the world.

“I wish you’d taken me with you,” he said as he reached for a dressing pad.

“Hm?” You frowned, unsure what he meant. You’d gone alone, which wasn’t why you’d fumbled crossing the fence, but it certainly hadn’t helped. Sam and Dean had been after a demon in the next town over – it took precedence over vampires, you all knew that – and Cas had been with them. You’d been convinced you’d be alright to tackle such a small nest, it was only three, barely a nest at all, and had insisted on it. But still, you’d been a bit more wired than usual, and that was probably to blame for your bungled entrance. It didn’t matter now, you were fine. They were dead.

He shrugged, smoothing the dressing over your skin more gently than you’d ever thought possible. “On the hunt. I wish you’d taken me with you.”

“Nah,” you shook your head, trying to dispel the ache his action caused inside you. “You had other stuff on. You don’t need to be wasting time running after a nest of vampires, demons take priority.” You smiled. “You’ve got more to worry about than a silly little hunter who can’t jump fences.”

Cas looked up, that little wrinkle reappearing on his forehead. “That’s not true,” he said, “I’ll always have time for you. I’ll always worry about you.”

You froze, taken aback by the… intimacy of the words. You’d mentioned before that you liked when people just said what they meant (“Even if it hurts you?” he’d asked, frowning. You’d said that you’d rather that than be left searching for double meanings and hidden clues, and he’d seemed to find that acceptable.), and since then he’d indulged you in that regard. But this felt different, it felt more real than anything he’d ever said to you before. He’d always have time for you, he worried about you.

“Really?” you asked. “You mean that?”

He nodded, his eyes sincere where he held your gaze. There was something here, you knew, something tingling in the air between you. You’d half thought you were imagining things when you noticed him looking at you. You’d chalked it up to him being, well, Cas, and hadn’t allowed yourself to dwell too long on the glimmer of hope that it was more than that. And he’d been an angel for Pete’s sake; divine, untouchable, totally out of your reach. But here, now, with his hand resting where it had settled on your thigh and his face inches from yours, the dimness of the motel somehow illuminating every dancing fleck of colour in his eyes, every beautiful shadow and line on his – human – face, you weren’t ignoring it any longer.

His voice was barely above a whisper when he spoke. “You’re important to me, (Y/N).”

Oh. Oh. There it was.

He was still looking at you, but there was a hint of what you would have said was nervousness, maybe apprehension, mixed with the sincerity and lingering concern in his eyes. It was so… raw. You felt strangely vulnerable, while at the same time like you were seeing something you weren’t supposed to.

Involuntarily, your eyes flicked down to his lips, your breath hitching in your chest. Fuck it, you thought, then closed the few inches of space between you and pressed your lips to his.

He was completely motionless, and for a wild moment you were convinced you’d grossly misread something and had just made a massive mistake. Then it was like he was coming to life beneath you, pushing back against you, his lips parting under yours, his free hand finding its place cupping your cheek. His mouth was soft, impossibly soft. His tongue, when you brushed against it with your own, tasted like your lemonade.

It was near dead silent in the room, the ticking of the clock on the wall and the distant thrumming of traffic outside the only noises. Then, as you slid your hand up over his leg, fingers squeezing gently at his thigh, Cas made a sound.

It was halfway between a sigh and moan, tiny and restrained, and you could feel him hesitate in the kiss. This is new, it said. This is nice. You let your lips curve into the smile they’d been trying to, squeezing again. It’s alright, you told him with your hand, you’re alright.

You drew back momentarily, sucking a quick breath as Cas chased you, his hand on the back of your neck pulling you closer and closer and closer and closer and impossibly closer until your chest met his. Then you were shifting into his lap, swinging your leg over his and straddling his hips like it was the most natural thing in the world. And maybe it was. It sure felt like it.

“Cas,” you breathed, breaking away properly this time and raising your hands to cup his face. “Castiel.”

“Hm?”

You moved your thumb in a soft arc over his cheekbone, smiling as he closed his eyes and leaned into your touch. His lips found your hand, peppering your palm and wrist with featherlight kisses.

“Can I?” you asked, reluctantly freeing a hand to push at the trench coat he was still wearing.

He looked up, frowning. “What?”

“Take it off,” you whispered, then heat rose in your cheeks. “If you want to, of course. If you want this. You don’t have to.”

He shook his head, pulling back to shrug off the heavy piece of clothing. The blazer followed. He loosened his tie, then seemed to think for a moment before undoing it altogether. It was the first time you’d seen him without it, and he looked… different. Unguarded, almost. Then he was reaching up and unfastening the buttons of his shirt, torturously slowly. He paused, meeting your eyes.

“Is this alright?” he asked.

You smiled, nodding. You’d been staring, you realised, watching his deft fingers work at the material so intently that you hadn’t been thinking about what would show on your face. You took over, finishing off the last few fastenings and pushing the shirt back off his shoulders. You didn’t know what you’d expected his body to look like. You’d had the vague notion that it would be nice, that it would somehow match the rest of him, and you hadn’t been wrong, but now that he was in front of you that same disconcerting feeling of unearthliness haunted the back of your mind. This was Cas, Castiel, and that made it somehow hallowed – irony aside.

“Are you alright?” He was peering up at you, apprehensive.

You nodded. “Are you?”

He echoed your gesture, his fingers running along the collar of your own shirt. A question, a request, testing the waters.

Careful of your still-tender shoulder, you reached for the hem of your shirt and pulled it smoothly over your head, then undid your bra and cast it to the side. Cas’s eyes snapped to your chest, interest and a sort of hunger mixing on his face. Hesitantly, slowly, his hand inched up your waist to your ribs, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. He paused.

“It’s ok,” you breathed. When he still seemed wary, you reached down and took his hand in your own, guiding it to your breast and giving a gentle squeeze. His breath hitched, his tongue darting out between his lips.

“I’m…” he broke off, swallowing hard. He shifted, a hard bulge pressing against your thigh. You smiled.

“Hm?”

“I’m… I’m kind of…” He stopped again, floundering.

“It’s alright, Cas. You’re alright.”

He looked up, something close to nervousness dancing across his face. “I haven’t done this before,” he whispered. “I don’t know…”

Oh. Right. Why hadn’t you thought of that? It made sense, you supposed. Despite Dean’s best efforts, Cas hadn’t picked up the other guy’s… habits, at least not yet. You’d wondered about it briefly before coming to the conclusion that it had to be an angel thing, a choice on his behalf. You knew some people didn’t want that with just anyone, which you could understand. What you couldn’t understand was a world where nobody was interested in Cas, but then again, you might have been biassed.

You bit your lip. “Do you want to? It’s ok if you don’t.”

“I do,” he said, his hand still resting on your chest. “I really do, (Y/N). But I don’t know… what to do.”

“I’ll help you,” you assured him, affection blooming in your gut. And alongside it, an odd sort of pride. Cas was trusting you here, enough to admit he didn’t know what to do. It was more than any guy you’d ever been with had been willing to give away.

“We’ll go slow,” you continued. “You tell me what you like, what feels good. If you wanna stop, you say so, ok?”

He nodded.

You took his face in your hands again, running your fingers over the rough stubbled coating his jaw. “Can I touch you?”

“Please,” he murmured.

You trailed your hand down his neck, along his collar bone, over his chest. His skin was soft, smooth. It wasn’t scarred like Dean or Sam’s or your own, and suddenly you wondered if that was somehow a turn off for him. He’d been an angel, immortal, eternal, unblemished even now. If he hadn’t done this before, or even if he had with a normal human, he probably wouldn’t have encountered the kind of skin a hunter such as yourself possessed. Would it bother him?

Then his chest heaved under your hand, the flesh twitching as your touch crept lower, sideways, up again, mapping the expanse of his torso. He moaned softly as you pressed a gentle kiss to his temple, fingers splayed over his heart. Again, you swept down the centre of his body, all thoughts of your own imperfections dashed from your mind as you revelled in the little hums of pleasure you were coaxing from him.

Carefully, slowly, you inched lower. You passed his belly button, the light trail of hair that led down from it, finally encountering his belt buckle. You paused, tracing aimless patterns over the skin just above the waistline of his pants, pushing your fingers below the material after a moment.

“Is this alright?” you asked, watching his face. His eyes were closed, his lips slightly parted, cheeks flushed.

“Mhm,” he sighed. “Yes.”

You smiled. God, he was beautiful. “You wanna take ‘em off?”

At that, his eyes snapped open, the pupils so wide they almost obscured the blue of his irises. “My pants?” he asked.

You nodded. “You don’t have to, but…” You ran your hand lightly over the increasingly noticeable bulge you could feel. “I can touch you? Here.”

He stared. “Do you want to?”

You gave a little huff of laughter, nodding. “Only if you do. I can keep touching you other places if you want, I can kiss you…” You stopped as he deftly reached down and undid his belt, button and fly in one fluid motion, lifting his hips momentarily and kicking off his pants. It was very fast, impressively smooth. And underneath…

Your mouth watered at the sight. The outline of his cock straining against his underwear, a small wet patch already forming. You usually didn’t indulge the mantra of “bigger is better”, especially not when it came to penises, but there was no denying that your pussy was already aching at the thought of the stretch Cas’s would cause. Not that it was a behemoth, far from it, but he was certainly well endowed.

His voice snapped you from your reverie, jerking your gaze away from his dick and back to his face. “Is that…” he paused, searching your gaze anxiously. “Is it alright?”

Your heart melted. “Oh, Cas,” you sighed. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect. Just perfect.”

A sound that could only be described as whine slipped from his still kiss-bruised lips, sending a bolt of heat shooting down your spine to pool between your legs. Before the request had formed on your tongue, he shed his underwear too, leaving himself bare to you.

“Have you touched yourself?” you asked, jerking your gaze from his cock. Fuck, you’d never wanted to lay hands on a dick more in your life.

Cas looked away for a moment. “No,” he said. “Should I have?”

You shook your head. “It’s up to you. I’d like to, if you’re ok with it.”

“Touch me?”

“Mhm.”

He opened his mouth, closed it again, then nodded.

“Ok.” Dammit, you thought. If this was his first time, you wanted him to feel good. Would he tell you if he didn’t? You thought he would, he was always honest when you asked him to be, and he clearly wanted this. But it was that same want that made you wonder if he’d just keep going no matter what, and you didn’t want that.

You quickly spat into your hand, stretching up, placing a kiss on the corner of his mouth. Then, on second thoughts, you licked softly at his bottom lip. His breath rushed against your skin, the kiss hot and messy and barely even a kiss at all. It was more you licking into Cas’s mouth, Cas experimenting with his tongue in yours. After a few tries he found a rhythm, soft and supple, gentle and careful. Wonderful.

It was then that you reached down with your spit-lubed hand, wrapping your fingers around his throbbing length, coating the whole thing with moisture. There was already a little precum beading on the tip, and you used that too, your hand sliding easily. The skin here was smooth too, apart from the thick veins and swell of the head, the slit that you ran your thumb over, causing Cas to moan – really moan – into your mouth.

“Like this?” you murmured, moving your kisses away from his lips, over his stubble-roughed jaw, down to his neck. You sucked gently at the hollow under his jaw bone, hot and wet, leaving a red mark behind. You moved further down, over his jugular, more and more hickeys blossoming in your wake.

“Ah, (Y/N), yes–” Cas gasped. “Oh, just like that, please.”

You hummed softly, his breathlessness coupled with the words themselves like fog clouding your mind. All you wanted was more. More of his ragged voice, more of the desperate pleading, more of his hips jerking up into your hand and as your fingers slid smoothly over his cock. Your mouth paused at the base of his throat, made more apparent by the strain in his neck – the Plender gap, you thought it might have been called. You could vaguely picture that word with an arrow pointing to the spot on a medical diagram, although you weren’t sure why – and sucked a particularly dark hickey into the skin there. His collar would cover it in the morning.

His hand, which had been flitting about your waist, suddenly found its way to your hair. His fingers tangled in it, pulling your head back up so he could kiss you again. You smiled, your own free hand squeezing at his thigh just as you had before.

He moaned again, deep in the back of his throat, the sound reverberating through your whole body. How had you waited this long? If you’d known it’d be like this, you’d have jumped his bones the second you laid eyes on him. Hell, you’d wanted to.

“Can I use my mouth?” you asked between kisses – they still weren’t really kisses by any stringent definition, too messy for that.

“You are, hm, using your mouth,” Cas pointed out.

You laughed. It was so… matter of fact. “I mean down here,” you explained, giving his dick a gentle squeeze. “I can keep doing this if you want, but…”

“But?”

“I wanna taste you, Cas,” you smiled.

His mouth fell open, his cheeks colouring. He hadn’t been lying when he’d said he was new to this, you supposed. “Taste me?”

“Mhm,” you nodded, ducking forward to nip at his lip. “Wanna feel you in my mouth, wanna choke on your cock. I’ll make you feel so good, Cas, I promise.”

“(Y/N).” His voice was even more gravelly than usual, roughened by the raw desire glinting in his eyes.

“Mhm?”

“Are you sure?”

“That’s sweet,” you laughed again. “I’m sure, Cas. Remember you can stop me whenever you want, though, yeah?”

“Yeah, alright.”

“Alright?”

He kissed you again, more gently and with more precision than before, then nodded. “Go ahead.”

You felt a grin break across your face, your mouth already watering. You didn’t waste time, giving Cas a quick peck on the cheek before sliding off the edge of the bed and kneeling between his legs, your arms resting comfortably on his thighs. You ignored the slight pull of your cut, taking his cock once more in your hand and pumping it gently, once, twice, three times before you lowered your head and kissed the tip.

Cas’s stomach twitched, his hand going once more to your hair as his breath caught in his throat.

“Alright?” you asked, your own breath ghosting over the sensitive area, raising goosebumps.

“Yes,” he sighed. “Keep going?”

You smiled. “Magic word?”

“Please,” he practically growled.

Alright then. You slid your lips over him, relaxing your mouth as you sank as far down his length as you could. What wouldn't fit in your mouth was taken care of by one hand, the other busy holding his hips down. He nearly whined when you moved, bobbing your head back and forth slowly at first, but faster by the minute.

“Oh,” he panted, “oh, (Y/N), yes–”

“Good?” you mumbled, but it didn’t come out sounding like the original word at all. Still, Cas seemed to get the point.

“So good, feels so good. You feel so good, (Y/N), you have no idea.”

The praise went straight to your panties, pooling with the rest of the hot wetness that had been gathering steadily. You’d wanted to take your time, be as careful and gentle as he’d been with you. But now, breathing in the smell of him, feeling the weight and the heat of him, you were losing your composure.

“Oh,” he whispered again as you sped up, your hand moving in tandem with your mouth. He dick was slick with your spit and only getting messier, the saltiness of his precum mixing with the lingering sweetness of your lemonade.

You moaned, the vibrations jolting Cas’s hips despite his best efforts to stay still, as well as your hand attempting to hold him down. You gave a tiny huff of laughter out your nose, lowering your head even further until the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat, relaxing completely.

“(Y/N),” he panted. “(Y/N).”

“Hm?” You glanced up at him, your eyes watering slightly. He made a sound you’d thought only existed in pornos as his fingers tightened in your hair.

“You look… ah, so…” He paused, the words choked by another moan as your tongue swirled around his cock. “So beautiful.”

For the second time, your heart felt like it was melting in your chest. You smiled, your enthusiasm doubling. You were gonna make him cum in your mouth, you were determined. And after that – if he wanted, of course – you’d spread your legs for him and let him fuck you senseless.

He was close, he was so damn close, cock twitching and fingers clutching desperately at you despite his best attempts to be gentle. “I’m–” He broke off, gasping. “So much, (Y/N), it’s so much.”

You wondered if you should stop, if you should pull back and ask if he was ok. If he’d never done this before and hadn’t touched himself either, it was unlikely that he’d ever experienced an orgasm. Maybe you should reassure him. You ran your free hand down his thigh, squeezing gently. It’s alright, you tried to say with the gesture, hoping he’d understand. I’ve got you, you’re alright.

Then he was groaning deeply, his head thrown back and his eyes closed, thighs shaking under you and hot saltiness shooting down your throat. His skin shone with sweat, his chest heaving, his hand gripping your hair so tight it almost – almost – hurt. But it couldn’t have, not when your throat was working to swallow every drop of what he was giving you, not when he looked so beautiful laid out bare above you, not when you could see the pure, raw pleasure painted on his face.

As gently as you could, you drew back and licked him clean. You rested your head on his thigh, placing a soft kiss there, then drew back and sat, waiting.

Finally, Cas opened his eyes and looked at you. He took in your swollen lips, the flush you could feel dusting your cheeks, the tears that had leaked from your eyes, the bird’s nest that was your hair. And he smiled, reaching out a hand to help you up.

“Are you alright?” you asked, settling back on the bed beside him. You took his hands, holding them close to you. “It wasn’t… too much?”

“It was wonderful,” he said solemnly. Then he looked away. “Can I…”

“Yeah?” you prompted. “Can you…?”

He turned back, meeting your eyes. “I want to make you feel like that, too.”

Your stomach did a flip. “Oh.”

“Will you show me?” Cas’s eyes searched yours, curious and sincere. And how the hell could you say no to him?

You nodded, unbuttoning your pants and casting them off – admittedly with much less grace and efficiency than Cas. After a moment’s hesitation you did the same to your underwear, dropping them carelessly over the edge of the bed. You could hunt for them in the morning.

He was watching you the whole time, eyes following every movement you made in that way that was so him. You’d been unnerved by it before you’d gotten to know him, but now it just turned you on.

Slowly, hesitantly, he reached out and ran his hand over your stomach, up, up, up until he reached your breast. He didn’t stop as he had before, his thumb skimming your hard nipple, making you suck in a harsh breath.

“Is this alright?” he asked.

You nodded. “Mhm.”

“What about this?” He slid lower, past your belly button to where your leg joined your hip. It sent tingles running through your whole body.

“Mhm.”

“This?” Lower still, over your thigh, along the inside of it, so close to where you wanted him most.

“Yeah, Cas, you don’t have to ask.”

“I want you to feel–”

You stopped him with a kiss, brief and gentle. “Whatever you do is gonna feel great, ok?”

“But I’m–”

“Cas.”

He fell silent when you placed your hand on his face, leaning into your touch.

“Don’t worry,” you whispered. “I’m gonna help you, remember?”

He nodded, leaning forwards to press his lips against yours. He was getting pretty good at kissing, you noted. Not that he’d been bad when you’d started, but he’d figured out what worked with you.

“Show me,” he urged, the hand that had been tracing over your leg finding yours. “Show me where to touch you.”

This is it, you thought as he drew back, watching where his fingers twined with your own. He had officially smashed apart your standards for all men – and former angels – with just six words. You did as he asked, drawing his hand down between your legs to your now practically drenched pussy.

“Here,” you murmured, a little shock going through you as your fingers brushed your clit.

Cas’s eyes were wide, the pleasure-haze from his orgasm all but gone now. “Here?” he confirmed, pressing gently at the stiff little bundle of nerves.

“Yes,” you gasped, your voice much less steady than you’d have liked.

“Like this?” He slid his finger in a careful circle around it, his eyes never leaving your face.

“Yes, Cas, just like that.”

He did it again, then again and again. You sucked a harsh breath through your teeth, your hips twitching involuntarily.

“Fuck,” you moaned. “Fuck, Cas.”

“Is this alright?” he asked mildly.

“More than alright,” you half laughed, half panted. You broke off in another moan as he moved his hand, sliding the tips of his fingers around your hole, his palm pressing against your clit. You briefly wondered if he was doing it deliberately or just experimenting, and if he’d heard something about how to finger girls somewhere. If so, you wanted to know where. But, you thought a moment later, who really cared when it felt so damn good?

“Can I?” he murmured, watching your face carefully.

“Yeah,” you nodded frantically. “Yeah, go ahead— please.” The word was torn from you in a way that made colour bloom over Cas’s face as he pushed his finger into you. The heel of his hand was still pressing on your clit, and you ground down on it in a desperate search for friction as he added another finger, your own fingers digging into his shoulders and your breath coming in short gasps.

“Am I…” he started, then swallowed. “Is this good?”

“So fucking good,” you replied. “How the fuck are you so good at this?” It was ridiculous, unfair. Most dudes who’d tried had lamely poked at you until you’d given up trying to show them and just moaned loudly, leaving them to grin smugly, convinced they’d made you cum. Cas, however, was well on his way to conjuring the real thing.

He looked away for a moment, a small satisfied smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Good, you thought. He should be satisfied, he was fucking phenomenal. “I’m not sure,” he said.

It was your turn to smile. “Well you are,” you said simply. Then he moved his hand again and all you could think was fuck, because he really was incredible. He was kissing your neck, sucking at the spot where it met your shoulder, his other hand resting on your hip as you rocked against him, his own soft moans mixing with yours.

And God, you wanted him to fuck you.

“Hold on,” you panted. Much as his fingers were doing it for you, you couldn’t fight the shiver the thought of his cock buried inside you sent down your spine.

Cas froze immediately.

“No, no, it’s ok,” you assured him quickly. “I wanna try something else.”

“Is this not–”

“You’re doing great,” you interrupted. “I promise. But…” As before, you slid your hand gently down to palm at the already half-formed erection sitting between his legs.

Cas frowned.

“Would you like to fuck me?” you asked tentatively. You hated how unsure you sounded, how small.

His eyebrows shot halfway up his face.

“Only if you want to,” you added quickly. But from the way his dick had visibly hardened at your words, you guessed he probably did. So, you continued, “I’d like it if you did.”

Again, his tongue darted out over his lips. His voice was husky when he spoke. “I’d like it too.”

“Ok, what are we waiting for?” You smiled, shuffling backwards and easing yourself back on the bed. When you saw that Cas wasn’t following, you reached over and took his hand, dragging him down on top of you. “Come on,” you encouraged.

He gave a little “oof” as he crashed against you, quickly propping himself up above you. It looked uncomfortable.

“Relax,” you said, wriggling into the mattress and running your hands over his arms and shoulders. “It’s alright.”

“I don’t want to squash you.”

You smiled, pulling at him to come closer. “You won’t, don’t worry.”

“How do you know?”

“I just do. Besides, I wouldn’t mind.”

He snorted indignantly. “I would. Then whose lemonade would I steal?”

You laughed at that. Castiel, former divine soldier of God, joking about stealing your lemonade while he was about to fuck you. If you’d gone back and told yourself from a year ago, she’d have slapped you in the loony bin. “You could just order your own,” you pointed out.

“I could,” he conceded. “But I will not.”

“Ok, I don’t mind.” You stretched up, capturing his lips with your own and drawing him down towards you. What you’d said was true, he really didn’t need to worry about squashing you. You liked the warm weight of him, the firmness and certainty that his body pressed against yours brought, his arms caging you to the bed.

You smiled as his tongue slid along your bottom lip, opening your mouth almost immediately. Yeah, he knew what he was doing now. You hooked your leg over his, pulling his hips hard against your own. You were still tingling, still electrified with want and need from having deprived yourself of his fingers just minutes before, and almost without your conscious awareness you ground against him.

You swallowed the little moan that slipped from his mouth, rubbing your wetness over his hard cock.

“(Y/N),” he gasped, breaking the kiss, his hips moving in time with yours.

“Cas,” you echoed, equally as breathless. “Please?”

He swallowed, his eyes dark.

“I want you inside me,” you continued. “Please, Cas, I need you inside me. Now.”

He cursed softly, so softly the only thing you caught was the tone. You wondered what angels cursed by. Not God, surely. But it didn’t matter, because he was taking himself in hand and lining up at your entrance, looking at you for permission. “Here?” he asked.

You nodded. “Yeah, go ahead.”

Gently, so gently, he pushed inside you. You gave a little whimper that might have been embarrassing in any other situation at the stretch, the delicious feeling of being filled up completely by him. Cas, on the other hand, didn’t make a sound. He wasn’t even breathing, just staring at the place where your body swallowed his, his eyes wide.

“Hey,” you said softly, smiling at him when his eyes met yours. “You alright down there?”

“Yes,” he whispered, running a hand reverently over your stomach. His fingers brushed over your scars, some silver, some a newer pale pink. Your earlier doubts fluttered to the front of your mind, but you determinedly pushed them away. Now was not the time.

“You can move,” you told him, rocking your hips gently against his by way of demonstration. Then, “Please?”

He nodded, one hand resting on your hip as he pulled out a little, sliding smoothly back in. He hummed quietly, did it again, then again and again and again, finding his rhythm. It was good, it was as gentle as everything else, firm enough to pull at that special place deep in your belly, steady and decisive. Most of all, it was Cas. Cas fucking you, Cas’s cock sending spasms of heat through your body, Cas’s hand steadying himself and you, Cas’s lovely gravelly voice mumuring your name.

He leant further over you, bending his head to place a wet, open-mouthed kiss to the cut-free side of your collar bone, following it with another, more forceful one, then more until you were sure you looked like someone had spilt wine over your chest. You supposed it was only fair, given how many love bites you’d showered him with.

“Shit, Cas,” you whispered, your hand coming up to run over the back of his head, fingers carding through his mussed-up hair. You’d always wanted to fix it, stroke it down, maybe make it worse. When you’d first met him you’d gone so far as to tell him to his face that it was “un-angelic”. He’d been amused by that.

Now, he groaned against your skin. You smiled to yourself, stroking his scalp again and coaxing another wonderful little moan. You curled your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, lifting your hips off the mattress in time with his thrusts. His breath fanned over your neck, the muscles of his arm taut.

“I’m so close,” you whispered, and you were. The tightness was building in your stomach, coiling and swirling into a dense knot of pleasure. Every movement Cas made had his pelvis hitting your clit, the bedhead hitting the wall behind it – you briefly felt bad for the next room’s residents – and Cas’s cock hitting deep inside you. The only sounds were the squeaking of the mattress – again, you felt bad – and the wet slap of skin on skin, peppered with your combined moans and sighs.

“Fuck, Cas,” you gasped, your voice rising in pitch as you spiralled closer, closer… “Oh, shit, fuck, oh my God, Cas, Cas, I’m gonna cum, holy shit I’m gonna– Castiel!”

You let go, your eyes screwed tightly shut, spine arching off the bed as the bomb inside you exploded. Sparks fizzed through your veins, every muscle in your body clenching as stars speckled your vision and you cried Cas’s name over and over like some kind of mantra.

He hadn’t stopped, in fact he’d sped up, and when your mind finally crashed back into your body his hips were stuttering, his face buried in your neck. He spilled inside you, hot and thick as it had been in your mouth, a deep groan thrumming through you from where his lips still rested on your chest. He stilled after a moment, still holding most of his weight off you despite your arms wrapped around his back, whispering your name like it was a prayer.

You wriggled sideways, smiling as he went limp and flopped down beside you. Well, sort of beside you. His head and the better part of his shoulders still rested over your chest, his lips ghosting over you in feather light kisses, his hand running up and down your arm.

“We should get cleaned up,” you whispered after a moment.

“Hm?”

“Clean up,” you repeated. “We’re all sticky.”

“Oh,” was all he said. Then, “alright then.”

You extricated yourself, squeezing his shoulder gently as you rose and headed for the bathroom. You debated pulling him into the shower with you, but as your eyes settled on the folded washcloth by the sink you scrapped that idea. This would be quicker and easier, and you were tired, dammit. There’d be other opportunities — at least you hoped there would be.

You wiped yourself down, turning to find Cas standing in the doorway. The flickering yellow neon strip of illumination above the mirror cast weird shadows over his body, still shining with exertion. Beautiful, even with the medley of hickeys on his neck and the mess of his and your cum around his crotch.

You beckoned him closer, spongeing away the sweat and other spunk coating his skin. Occasionally you’d look up, without fail meeting his eyes. The usual interest had been replaced with something more; something whole and warm and just for you. The thought made your heart skip a beat.

When you were finished, you stretched up and kissed him again, just once. Then you took his hand, heading back towards the bed.

He hesitated, and you turned. He was looking at the couch, indecision marring his face.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“I assumed you’d want the bed to yourself,” he shrugged. “You usually don’t share”

Oh, ok. “Usually, yeah,” you replied, as casually as you could. “But I wanna share with you.” You looked down at your still joined hands, pulling gently. “Stay?”

After a moment, he nodded.

It took longer than it should have to sort out the stupidly layered sheets and blankets, but finally you were both finished wriggling and shifting around, comfortably facing each other. You smiled at him, taking his hand again.

“I wondered what it would feel like to lie beside you, while you slept. You looked so… at peace.” He leaned forward the few inches between you, his lips cool against your forehead. “Beautiful.”

Your voice was quieter than you’d meant it to be, and breathier. “You watch me sleep?”

“It’s hard not to.” It may have been your imagination, but he sounded a little guilty.

You laughed, leaning forward to whisper, “That’s a little creepy, Cas.”

“Should I not have?”

“I don’t mind,” you said after a pause, “but maybe try not to mention things like that. Most people would find it weird.”

“You don’t?”

You shook your head. “Not when it’s you.” The hand that had been holding his was free now, sliding up to cup his face almost of its own volition. You pressed your lips to his, softly and slowly, sweet as syrup. You shifted closer still, draping your arm over him.

“Because I’m important to you, too?” he asked when you drew back. His eyes searched yours in the dimness, sincere and open. God, he was just… so much.

You smiled. “Yeah, Cas, you sure are.”

You woke to a hand running over your shoulder, the rise and fall of a chest beneath your cheek and the steady beating of a heart. Cas’s heart, Cas’s chest, Cas’s hand.

“Hi,” you whispered, sitting up. His hand ceased its movements, his lips curling into a gentle smile.

“Hello.”

You dipped down, kissing him softly, your finger tracing the outline of his lips when you drew away. “Sleep well?”

He sighed deeply, staring at the ceiling for a moment before his gaze found yours again. “Better than I ever have before. Thank you, (Y/N).”

“That’s alright.” You looked away, heat rushing to your face. “It was my pleasure.”

“I can see why you – humans – like it so much.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Hm?”

“Sex,” he explained. “I think I get it now.”

“Oh,” you laughed. “Well, that was pretty good sex. For someone who’s never done it before, you were amazing.”

“Really?” He leaned back, surveying your face carefully.

You nodded. “And anyway,” you went on, “it usually feels better when it’s someone who’s…”

He waited, watching you stumble over your words.

“You know…” You paused, swallowing, half wishing you’d just left it at telling him he was good. “Someone who’s special to you,” you finished lamely.

“Well,” he said after a moment, “then I’m glad it was you.”

You didn’t really know how to respond to that, so you just smiled and kissed him again. It was slow and lazy, his bare chest silken under your own, nothing but the soft rush of breath and tiny hum he gave, the rustle of the sheets, the ticking of the motel room clock. Then your phone rang.

“Fucking hell,” you muttered as you broke away, giving Cas a final apologetic peck before making your way to the table where you’d dumped it. Sam’s name flashed on the screen.

“What do you want?” you growled.

“Breakfast,” he answered. “What’s up your ass?”

“I was sleeping” you answered smoothly, then, “I don’t like being woken up.”

He snorted. “Yeah, alright. Meet us outside in, say, twenty minutes?”

You glanced at Cas, who was now sitting up and, you guessed it, watching you. You squished the phone to your chest. “Breakfast in twenty?” you asked.

He nodded, already swinging his legs over the side of the bed. You couldn’t help staring just a little as he went about getting dressed, drinking in every rapidly disappearing inch of skin like some kind of sexually repressed Victorian maiden.

“Sure,” you said to Sam, then hung up. The problem that you hadn’t thought through last night was the hickeys. You had a scarf, you could button your shirt over your chest, and thankfully Cas had shown more restraint than you had. The most problematic mark sat right in the hollow under his jaw, two love bites blending together. It wasn’t even hickey-shaped, really, but you didn’t think that’d fool Dean and Sam.

“What’s wrong?” Cas asked, fastening the final button on his shirt.

“Nothing,” you sighed. “But Dean’s gonna give us endless – and I mean endless – shit.”

“You’ve killed demons, (Y/N),” he smiled. “And you still can’t deal with Dean’s endless shit?”

“Oi! I can, I just don’t want to.” You crossed the room, poking him square in the chest. “And you’re gonna be dealing with it too, so don’t get cocky.”

“We’ll deal with it together.” It was tentative, almost a question.

You smiled, taking his hands. “Castiel and (Y/N) vs Dean Winchester’s endless shit. I can work with that.”

Things were a little strange over breakfast. Sam and Dean kept glancing at each other, having their annoying silent conversations that consisted of raised eyebrows and side-eyes, the occasional jerk of the head or twist of the mouth. Self consciously, you re-adjusted your scarf, pointedly not meeting anyeone’s eyes. You’d almost made the call not to sit next to Cas, but then he’d looked up at you from his spot by the window and you didn’t stand a chance. You were grateful for your decision when the food came, it made sharing with him a lot easier.

“Dude,” Sam said suddenly, twisting to face his brother and nearly taking out his glass of water. The eyebrow raising and eye-widening had gotten more intense in the last minute, and clearly they’d hit a boiling point.

“It’s not a hickey!” Dean protested. “It’s not even hickey-shaped!”

You froze, fork halfway to your mouth.

“What?” Cas voiced your thoughts, frowning over the cup of coffee he was nursing.

Sam sighed. “Cas, look out the window for a second.”

“Hey–” you started, but you were too late. Both Sam and Dean’s eyebrows shot halfway up their foreheads, and Cas was dutifully peering through the glass. Why did he choose now of all times to listen to Sam?

“That’s a hickey,” the younger man was claiming triumphantly, nodding to the stain on Cas’s neck.

Dean whistled softly. “That’s two hickeys. It’s like… a Siamese hickey.”

“Gross, Dean,” you muttered, ignoring the heat in your cheeks.

He shrugged. “It’s a beautiful, natural act, (Y/N), lighten up. Congratulations, Cas. Who’s the lucky girl?”

Sam made a noise like he was choking. You studied your hands on the table in front of you. Dean grinned. Cas didn’t say anything.

“Was it that waitress?” Dean asked, leaning forwards. “She was cute, man, I’d have tapped that.”

“No, it wasn’t the waitress.”

Dean frowned, then his eyes widened. “The hotel receptionist?” he whispered. “Dude, she was a milf. Nice one.”

“Dean…” Sam started, looking between you and Cas. You glared.

“What? He deserves a pat on the back. I gotta say, I wasn’t sure if you had it in you.”

Sam sighed. “I don’t think it was the hotel receptionist.”

“No? Who else?”

Again, he glanced at you. You hadn’t moved, stiff as a statue and bracing for impact. You were so close to just spitting it out right there, biting the bullet and getting it over with. But you hadn’t discussed that with Cas, and you couldn’t exactly do so now.

Dean was looking expectantly at Sam, who was shaking his head in disbelief. You couldn’t blame him. Then, as if in slow motion, Dean’s face fell and realisation dawned in his eyes.

“No,” he said softly. “No, you didn’t.”

It was your turn to shrug. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t get a little bit of a kick out of Dean’s absolutely horrified expression. Endless shit that was about to rain down on you and all.

“You slept together? You,” he looked at you, “and you?” He looked at Cas.

“Yes,” the former angel said stiffly. “It was nicer than the couch.”

“No, I mean–”

You raised a hand, stopping him. “Yes, Dean,” you sighed. “Just… get it out now.”

“Aw, man.” He groaned, rubbing a hand over his forehead. “That was you guys?”

“I told you,” Sam shrugged, looking all too smug.

Cas frowned. “Told him what?”

“We could hear you,” Dean muttered, his cheeks going a deep red. “I didn’t think we were sharing a wall, Sam did. Drew me a diagram of the motel layout and everything. I didn’t wanna believe it, I didn’t wanna know that… Aw, man!”

Sam’s smile widened, and he extended a hand across the table. “Pay up.”

“Pay up?” You glared at him, incredulous. “What the fuck do you mean, pay up?”

“I mean he owes me fifty. Thanks for that, by the way.” With this, he nodded to Cas.

You gaped. “Please don’t tell me you bet on me and Cas sleeping together. And please don’t tell me you bet for it.”

“What can I say? I knew it’d happen eventually, the way you drool over each other. Not my fault Dean actually took me up on it.”

You groaned, twisting to bury your face in Cas’s trench coat. Absently, he patted your hair. “Why can’t you guys just be normal about one single thing?” you lamented. “Who the hell bets on their friends sleeping together?”

“Actually,” Dean said through a mouthful of bacon, “it’s a very normal thing to do.”

“Mhm, back at Stanford–”

“Back at Stanford,” you mimicked, cutting him off. “I can’t believe you two.”

Dean held his hands up as if surrendering. “Hey, sorry, but I didn’t think either of you would have the balls to ever make a move. And it was fifty dollars, don’t try to tell me you wouldn’t take that.”

“I can’t believe I’m gonna have to sit in the car all day with you.”

“Me too,” Cas added solemnly.

You sighed, taking his hand under the table and laying it between you, squeezing in full view of Sam and Dean. Cas squeezed back.

“You’re not allowed to… do anything in the back of my car.” Dean said after a moment. “Especially not with me or Sam there too.”

Defiantly, you shifted closer to Cas, fingers still entwined with his, firmly meeting Dean’s eyes. “Don’t bet on it.”

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katiexpunk · 5 months

Text

The Art of Noticing | Pairing Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: In the hushed corners of this desolate world, where whispers of yesteryears linger among crumbling ruins, you find a peculiar kind of peace; just like you did when you fell asleep in the darkroom for the first time. Still armed with your camera, even in this new world, you try to keep your heart attuned to the silent narratives of a forsaken universe. You used to think this was your strong suit; to be able to immortalize the unnoticed, to preserve the beauty around you, even in a world of darkness. That was until it almost got you killed. And Joel Miller hates you for it. Rating: 18+ Minors DNI Word count: ~6.1K Warnings: This one is full on corn with plot; plus lots of emotions. No specific age gap mentioned. References to loss, grief, death and sadness. Reader almost gets her throat slit, until Joel saves the day. I mean, canon-typical violence. Joel is an asshole in the beginning. Angst. Enemies to lovers. Lots of hatred towards a bird lol. Lots of film/photography references. Ellie is a gem, as per usual. Size kink. Reference to a gun/knife. Alcohol. Use of pet names (darlin', baby, good girl, sweetheart, etc.). Unprotected P in V. Oral (M and F receiving). There's a titty fuck. Grinding/dry humping. Fingering. Nipple play. There are no physical descriptions of the reader except that she has hair long enough to whip over her shoulder. Please let me know if I missed anything. A/N: This one has been in my WIPs for months. It started off as an entirely different story, but after going through and re-reading what I originally wrote, I hated it. I have all the feels about this one. Special thank you to @sydneyinacoma for being my emotional sexy support blanket and holding my balls on this one, as per usual. And to @papipascalispunk for originally editing the first version of this story, although it looks totally different now. Iris, you're a gem. Thanks for believing in me even before I did. I hope I make you proud with this one. Masterlist | Read on AO3

Tumbling at the edge Of disaster, This is how I lived. Oh see how the chrysanthemums Are dry now, Yet still beautiful. ~ Noelle Kocot

In the hushed corners of this desolate world, where whispers of yesteryears linger among crumbling ruins, you find a peculiar kind of peace; just like you did when you fell asleep in the darkroom for the first time. Your mother had always told you there was beauty in capturing the poetry in the often-ignored details, and she made sure you were given the tools you needed to do so. She was kind like that. Sometimes it's as if her presence still lingers vividly in your viewfinder, her radiant smile eternally illuminating your memories.

Your film helps you to hold on to the details that no one else is around to remember anymore, details you might one day forget; details like the color of your best friend's eyes, the warm hue of orange of your grandfather’s favorite recliner, and even the nearly lime green color of the fresh green tomatoes from your garden.

In a place where the larger story has faded, you still revel in the tiny tales—the vines reclaiming forgotten streets, sunlight gently embracing relics of the past, and the murmurs of tales etched into the decay. You think about the scratches carved into the dining room table of your childhood home and often wish you could once again find your seat around it.

But that reality is gone.

No longer is the girl who liked to swim or play with dolls. No longer is the girl who fought with her sister for stealing clothes from her closet, or her brother for hitting too hard.

Like many others, she’s gone. They’re gone.

She was whisked away to make room for the woman you are today; the person you’ve had to become to survive.

Still armed with your camera, even in this new world, you try to keep your heart attuned to the silent narratives of a forsaken universe. You used to think this was your strong suit; to be able to immortalize the unnoticed, to preserve the beauty around you, even in a world of darkness.

That was until it almost got you killed.

And Joel Miller hates you for it.

++++

Months after your patrol that went wrong, you bump into Joel outside the Tipsy Bison, giving him a cursory glance before turning around.

The idea of saying sorry crosses your mind, but for whatever reason, you don't. Your kindness, once a vibrant tapestry, is now a threadbare token. Besides, it’s his fault. He shouldn’t have been standing so close to the doorway. If anything, he should be apologizing to you.

You’re in a rather grumpy mood this evening, having wasted the last of your film only to overexpose the prints earlier in the day. Every single one – ruined. Sure, before the outbreak, this might not have bothered you as much, but now, finding film is like striking gold, and your stash is dwindling at an alarming rate. The frustration hangs over your head like a cloudy day. All you want to do is go home and sulk – forget about the mistake – at least if you were at home crying over your photographs, you wouldn’t be subject to prying eyes.

“Watch it,” Joel says, voice low and even, a sharp hint of annoyance behind his tone.

You stop in your tracks. You know you should walk away from this. But your temper is already on edge, sensitivity on hyperdrive, and something about the sneer of Joel’s voice gets under your skin. You spin around in a huff and toss your hair with annoyance. “Maybe next time don’t block the door,” you bark.

Joel retorts, red-hot at your audacity. “‘Scuse me? Wanna run that by me again, sweetheart?

The pet name is patronizing; you’re a real stick in his craw.

"You heard me," you snap back, punctuating your annoyance by crossing your arms over one another across your chest.

Joel turns around and takes a large stride toward you, closing the gap between your bodies so he’s nearly chest-to-chest with yours, his imposing figure towering over you, and his eyes narrow. “What’s got your panties in a twist tonight, hmm?” Joel asks, voice dripping with sarcasm and void of any genuine concern.

“You” you say, “you’re always so fucki–” before you can continue your sentence, Joel stops you by placing his large index finger onto your lips to hush you. "You've got one helluva smart mouth, darlin’," he says, voice low, almost menacing.

You freeze, looking up at him unsure of what to say as he brings his face inches from yours, the scent of whiskey heavy on his breath. The flecks of amber that dance around the edges of his irises catch your attention. As you swallow, your eyes momentarily flicker down to the thin line of his lips. Abruptly, he withdraws his hand, leaving an echo of intensity lingering in the suspended moment.

He isn’t particularly nice, but you have to admit, he is fucking hot. Since his arrival in town, he's been a magnetic force, his somber aura unmistakable to even the most casual of onlookers. A silhouette of brooding intensity, with shoulders that carve the space around him and biceps that speak of strength. His voice, a rasp in the wind, adds another layer to his already large presence.

“I’ve been told,” you pause. “Just – just get out of my way,” you say firmly, walking away as your shoulders brush against him.

"What's got your panties in a twist?" you scoff in your best imitation of his voice. You exhale sharply, fully aware of the true reason behind the agitation. You haven’t been fucked in years, and the heat that Joel stirs low in your belly is an incredibly frustrating feeling, knowing you’ll never get to do anything about it.

God damn infuriating man.

++++

As you lay in bed that night, you can't help but replay your encounters with Joel, the scenes repeat like an annoying commercial that won't leave your mind. Memories of your patrol with him keep playing on a loop, embedding themselves in your thoughts, refusing to fade away in the darkness of the night. "You could’a been killed," Joel's words still ring in your ears, the weight of his tone and the intensity in his eyes seared into your memory. You remember the sounds – the bone-crushing crunch and the grim, wet thud as Joel swiftly dealt with the raider who tried to slit your throat for your backpack, all while you were innocently looking through the lens of your camera, attempting to take a picture of a bird on a tree branch.

“I told you to follow my instructions, to listen, and you almost got killed on my watch – f’what? A picture of a fucking bird?” he said, trying to get you to see his point of view. Of course, you’ve apologized. Profusely, even, but it falls on deaf ears.

Ever since that moment, Joel hasn’t looked at you the same. You're certain all he sees is a stupid little girl, unable to protect herself. Nothing but a burden. Dead weight on his already sore shoulders.

Just go to sleep and forget about it, forget about him, you think to yourself, stirring in the scratchy fabric of your sheets.

As you drift off, you wonder what the bird saw that day.

++++

With a grunt, Joel manages to kick off his boots in the entryway, and they land with a loud thud against the floor. The worn wooden stairs creak beneath his weight as he ascends the steps, the dim hallway leading to Ellie's room. Pushing the door ajar, he finds her peacefully asleep. A small smile tugs at his lips, grateful to see her warm and safe.

Retreating to his room, Joel sheds the remnants of the day – his jacket, the weight of exhaustion, and the lingering sensation of your soft lips under his finger. As he settles into bed, the worn mattress groaning beneath him, he remembers the sound of your sweet voice; your puffy, teary eyes looking up at him as you apologized; and the sticky feeling of the blood on his hands from the man who tried to hurt you.

He wishes he would have pulled you close; and held you in the safe embrace of his arms.

He’ll never admit it, but he forgave you almost immediately, and it terrifies him more than anything in this new world ever could.

He’s already lost so much, and he’s not sure how much more he can take.

Surely it’s easier to hate you, rather than admit the truth, rather than lose you.

“Fuckin’ bird,” he mumbles before drifting off to sleep.

++++

"Come on, you've gotta be there! It's gonna be a total snooze without you," Ellie pleads, practically begging you to join her at the annual community holiday gathering.

Whereas Joel mostly acts like a grade-A jerk, Ellie is like a breath of fresh air. From the moment you met her, you’ve had a connection – you taught her the ropes of film exposure, and she's good company in a world where friends are a rare commodity. Despite your initial reluctance, you eventually cave. It’s not really your thing, but it’s a taste of normalcy, or what passes for it in this broken world, that you crave; plus, you convince yourself that you might even get a few good photos out of it.

Standing alone at the bar, you try to relax. You fiddle with the strap of your camera that rests on the bartop as you reminisce about how before the world turned to shit, you would have been quick to capitalize on an opportunity like this – to meet a nice guy, maybe have a drink or two and then end the night between the sheets.

You close your eyes and try to recall the last time you were touched, but it’s fruitless. It’s been so long since you’ve felt the gentle caress of a man or anyone for that matter.

You huff your residual irritation at the thought as you notice Joel talking with Tess in the distance. Tess. She’s rather new to town. You’ve only spoken once or twice, but you’ve gathered that she is a formidable woman with a no-nonsense demeanor, but still somehow kind.

Plus she can hunt, a welcome skill around here. As she converses with Joel, you take the time to drink in the details about her that you hadn’t noticed before. You guess she’s in her mid-40s, her hair is a mousey shade of brown with small shiny threads of gray in the mix, but she wears it well. Her complexion is soft, and her smile is nice. She’s pretty. You try not to color yourself too hard in the various shades of green as you wonder if Joel thinks the same.

“Another,” you signal to the bartender, and he fills your glass with amber liquid.

Maybe it’s the booze or the thick air from the crowded room causing your brain to go fuzzy, but you find yourself lost living out an alternate reality in your mind – one where Joel doesn’t hate you. One where he calls you a good girl, voice thick like honey, as he fucks you within an inch of your life.

Ellie’s voice calls you back to reality as she yells your name, signaling you to join her at the other end of the room. Downing the last of your drink, appreciating the subtle warmth it brings to your insides, you carefully place the glass on the bartop, shooting a subtle nod of appreciation to the bartender as you do; you grab your camera and place the strap around your neck. As you navigate the space toward Ellie, your keen awareness catches Joel breaking from his conversation with Tess, his gaze searing into you as you walk past both of them. His face is unreadable, but that doesn’t stop your pulse from quickening under his attention.

++++

After hours of socializing, all you crave is the comfort of your bed. Exhausted, you stumble out of the building, your balance betraying you on the gravel beneath your feet. Shit. You stand up, brushing off the lingering dirt from your knees, inadvertently smearing a small fleck of blood into your skin in the process. Of course, the one night you decide to wear a dress, the only one you own, you would end up injured.

“Really don’t have much spatial awareness, do ya, Darlin’?” Joel says, appearing out of the darkness, his dark and husky voice rings in your ears. It comes out a little harsher than he intended.

You shoot him a glare, half-hoping your eyes could actually launch daggers and finish him off right then and there. "Why do you always have to be such an asshole to me?" you demand, your frustration boiling over. “I’ve already apologized as much as I can, it’s fine if you don’t like me, but you could at least be cordial,” you say, voice defeated.

His mouth opens like he has something to say, but he doesn’t respond. "Right. Screw this, I'm going home,” you sigh as you walk away, thoroughly done with whatever messed-up game of cat and mouse the two of you are playing.

Joel watches you walk away, wishing he dared to go after you.

++++

Months go by, and despite the shifting atmosphere, as the crisp embrace of autumn gradually succumbs to the biting chill of winter; the air between you and Joel remains unchanged. His indifference is as unyielding as the encroaching winter snow.

“Tommy, please don’t make me go,” you beg. “He doesn’t even like me,” you cry, hoping he’ll have some sort of mercy on you.

“Sweetheart, he doesn’t like anyone. ‘M sorry, but it’s gotta be you two this time, ” Tommy replies, the sentiment of his voice echoing that there is no other option.

As you’re packing your backpack, you consider taking your camera but decide against it. Joel’s words pierce through you once more, “you almost got killed on my watch – f’what? A picture of a fucking bird?” You stash it in your dresser drawer, exchange it for a beanie and gloves, and walk out of the room to head to the stables.

Underneath the dappled morning sunlight filtering through the trees, you tread the familiar path to the barn, a soft crunch of gravel beneath your boots. The earthy scent of hay and the distant sounds of horses create a tranquil backdrop. As you approach the stables, your gaze catches Joel's silhouette – he stands, a rugged figure, in a weathered leather jacket and denim jeans with a knife sheathed at his side and a gun slung casually over his shoulder.

"Hey," you utter, your voice a gentle cadence, drawing closer to him. His gaze assesses you with a measured scrutiny, and with a subtle nod, he responds in a low murmur, "Ready?" The acknowledgment of your greeting remains absent.

Once inside the barn, you see the stable attendant readying your ride.

“‘M sorry, but you two are gonna have to share a horse,” he says, matter of fact. “Good ole bessy here has a lame foot that we gotta take care of before she’s back in commission,” he adds, patting the horse on the side. “And every other horse already has a rider for the day,” he adds. You think you hear Joel groan, but you can’t be sure.

You give the horse a friendly greeting, running your hand along its sturdy neck, a silent bond of understanding. Climbing onto its back, you settle in comfortably. Joel, without a word, positions himself behind you. The feeling of his thick chest pressed up against your back causes your breathing to hitch in your throat. Your eyes flutter closed as Joel reaches around you to grab the reins and he gently nudges the horse to go.

The rhythmic clip-clop of hooves on the path fills the air as you and Joel ride in tandem, a shared silence enveloping the space between you. The warmth of your body pressed against him, and the faint scent of your strawberry shampoo mingled with the earthy aroma of the trail, causes Joel to stiffen behind you. He adjusts his hips, subtly pulling them back, so you don’t notice.

You ride like that for what seems like an hour or more, until Joel breaks the silence, "So what’s the deal with the camera,” he asks as the horses continue their steady pace. His question throws you off. Is he being friendly?

“Oh, uh – well, my mom gave it to me when I was a little girl,” you say. Your voice goes an octave higher as you continue, “It’s all I have left of her now. All I have left of anyone, really,” you say. You bring your gloved hand up to wipe away the bead of snot that has gathered at the tip of your nose, sensitive from the cold, as you wait for his response.

“Hmm,” he adds, sensing the sadness, the grief behind your words; a hard truth almost everyone left alive has had to live. His heart hurts for you, hell, it hurts for him, too.

“Must be hard, reckon there’s not much worth takin’ a photo of these days,” he says, his head scanning from right to left to look out for any potential threats.

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” you pause.

“When I was younger, I used to think the sound of thunder was just the sound of god rearranging the furniture,” you say, slightly angling your head back to look at him, “it’s all about perception, Joel.”

He peers down at you, a furrow forming on his brow as he considers your words, his eyes tracking down to linger on your lips. Before you can say anything more, your attention flickers upward to the sky, the clear blue sky has been replaced by dark, ominous-looking clouds, and a raindrop falls to your cheek.

++++

By the time you find shelter, far from the comforts of Jackson, you’re both completely drenched.

“Stay here,” Joel says, hopping off the horse and swinging the rifle over his shoulders into his thick hands. You brush away the beads of water collecting on your lashes as you watch him enter the home to make sure it’s safe. He’s gone for what feels like forever, and after he returns, the rifle is slung over his shoulder again. It’s safe.

“Alright, darlin’ – all clear, let’s get outta this mess,” he says, offering his hand to help you get off the animal. Once steady, he takes the horse by the reins to lead him into the garage for shelter.

The rain-soaked chill clings to your skin as you and Joel step into the abandoned home, seeking refuge from the biting cold. Droplets cascade from your clothes, leaving a small puddle beneath your feet. The air inside is still, the only sound is the soft creaking of the dilapidated structure, the percussion of the raindrops falling on the roof, and the whip of the wind beating against the siding of the house.

Without a word, you both start shedding your damp layers, your shivers becoming more pronounced in the cool silence. You stand in the dusty living room, clad in only your bra and underwear, as you hold your arms crossed over your chest partially to warm yourself but also to shield yourself from Joel’s eyes, slightly self-conscious.

Joel briefly walks off before he returns from the bedroom off the side of the living room, having managed to find an old blanket among the remnants of the forgotten lives of the people who once lived in the home. He holds it open wide to you, an offering, and you turn your body so he can drape it around your shoulders. Once secured, you find a little bit of relief in its thick fibers.

You turn around to face him, and he stands there, rubbing his hands together in front of him in an attempt to warm himself.

“Joel, you’re freezing,” you say, slightly taking the blanket off of your shoulders as if to offer it to him. “‘M fine, Darlin’ – I’ll be fine, keep it, you need to get warm,” he says, but you see the way his body shakes as he says it, his tender curls plastered to his forehead; weighed down by the water collecting in them.

At that moment, you witness a fracture in Joel's stoic facade, the rugged exterior showing hairline cracks. The formidable walls he's meticulously built begin to crumble.

"Joel, seriously, we can share – come here," you insist, extending the blanket open with one arm, inviting him into the cocoon of warmth. The gesture carries an unspoken understanding, a truce. You might hate me, but I don’t hate you.

Joel hesitates for a second, his eyes tracing over your skin; as if he’s committing the sight of your hard nipples and damp skin to memory.

At last, he acquiesces, closing the gap between your bodies. His hands encircle your waist, drawing you close as he wraps both arms around you. You respond by wrapping your arms around his neck, and the blanket falls around both of your bodies. With him this close, you notice the subtle scent he carries with him, a touch of rain, a dash of cinnamon, and a hint of sweat. You’re not sure how, but he smells good.

With a long exhale, he tightens his hold on you, enfolding you against the sturdy warmth of his body. You melt into him, your cheek resting on the soft skin of his chest, and your breathing returns to a steady rhythm. You both pause there, letting the warmth swallow you up; eventually, the goosebumps that once littered both your bodies, begin to fade.

Your stomach flips as you listen to the subtle pitter patterns of his heart and the rhythmic sounds of his breathing. You had forgotten how good it feels to just be held; to have another body pressed up against yours. You realize Joel must feel the same, your attention flickers to the hard stiffness pushing against your stomach.

Tilting your face up to meet his, your arms still entwined around his neck, you whisper "Joel," your voice suggestive and questioning at the same time. His name hangs in the charged air.

"Darlin'," he responds in a low murmur, and before you can formulate a response, his lips claim yours in an unexpected yet tender collision. Joel groans and forces his tongue into your mouth. The intensity surges, and he begins to pull you back towards the couch. Joel pauses when the back of his calves meet the edge of the cushions, and he deepens the kiss before sitting back, pulling you with him onto his lap, the blanket falling to the floor leaving you almost bare on top of him.

The air in the home is still cold, but you don’t care, the adrenaline pulsing through your veins and your red-hot desire for him is more than enough to keep you warm. He’s as hard as a rock under his underwear, and you hum, noting how good his cock feels beneath you. You haven’t seen it yet, but you can tell he’s big.

“Are you sure you want this? What about Tess?” you ask, grinding against his erection. Joel grunts as he gropes both of your breasts with his hands, his lips meeting yours once more.

“Fuck, baby,” Joel mutters, leaning back to look at you. “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more,” he says, his hands leaving your breasts to find your hips, and he pulls you down harder onto his clothed erection. “And Tess and I are just friends,” he adds, “You’re the one I haven’t been able to get outta my head.”

Joel closes his eyes, and his mouth hinges slightly open. It has been a while since you’ve been laid, but god were you glad to see you could still render a man speechless.

Joel’s long, firm fingers find their way up your back to the clasp of your bra. He begins to unhook it. “Take this off,” he says, and you do as he says, throwing the damp lace onto the floor, leaving yourself completely topless on top of him.

“God damn, Darlin’ –”, Joel responds to the sight of you.

“Like what you see?” you say, feeling confident, and less intimated now that Joel is beneath you. Of course, he could overpower you in a matter of seconds, but in this moment, you have the upper hand. You grasp his chin, admiring the feel of the coarse hair on your fingertips, and lean down to kiss him hard.

His cock throbs against you, and your pussy drips in response. You stay there, kissing him, grinding your clothed cunt into him, enjoying the desperate sounds he makes as you do. His firm body, soft tummy, and compact muscles spur you on. You grin as you trace your hands down his smooth chest, noting the scars -- from what, who, you can only imagine – until your hands eventually make their way down to the band of his underwear.

Joel stops you, firmly gripping your chin to look at him. He pauses there and then pulls your face towards his, firmly sucking your bottom lip into his mouth with his teeth. “Mmm, Joel,” you mutter, the words leaving your lips fumbled and sloppy. Joel intensely stares into your eyes for a moment, and you stare back, eyes wide in disbelief that this is happening.

“C’mere,” Joel says, breaking the silence with another kiss, as you rock your hips against him again, the movement sending sparks straight to your core. God, you’re so fucking wet for him – a dripping mess.

Joel presses his face against your chest and works his way to your pebbled nipple before daring his tongue out to lick it. You push a still slightly damp curl away from his forehead, before clenching his hair in your fist. His breath is almost desperate as he laps at your tender nipples, alternating between sucking and little flicks of his tongue. “Joel,” you moan, pulling his face into your chest.

He growls softly, and sucks at your nipple harder, then rolls the other between his thumb and forefinger. You make a little noise in response. He trails the flat of his tongue up the valley of your breasts and over your exposed throat before kissing it, his hips lifting to you a bit as he does. He can’t wait to be buried inside of you.

“Up, baby. There’s a bed in the back room,” he says, tapping your thigh. You shimmy off of him, and he rises to full height. It doesn't take long for his lips to find you again. Kissing in a way that’s almost as violent as he is, you walk backward this time, making your way to the bedroom with Joel’s guidance.

It isn’t much, just skeletal remains of what was once a sanctuary. A duvet rests on the creaky old bed, its once vibrant pattern lost to time and dust. The room is mostly bare apart from the bed and a half-falling apart nightstand. Joel sits down on the bed and you fall to your knees in front of him. Your fingers hook under the elastic of his underwear, and his hips cant up to help you pull the fabric down and off his legs.

The cock that springs free is thick and long. You’re intimidated only momentarily until the need to feel him overwhelms you.

You spit into your palm and take his heavy member in your hand, before beginning to jerk him off. You slide your thumb across his swollen and red tip, your other hand gripping the thick, dark coarse hair against the base of him.

Joel’s eyes roll back into his head at the sensation of him in your soft palms. You bend forward and place his cock in the space between your breasts, you tilt your chin down and open your mouth so a long line of drool dribbles down to the cleft of your chest for lubrication, and then you squeeze the flesh around his length, rubbing up and down the entirety of him.

“Fuck nghh — that’s, ugh, that’s so good baby,” he grunts, his hands grabbing the nape of your neck.

And it is good. Almost too good.

“Darlin’, shit – ah, you gotta stop or I’m gonna come,” he says, his voice low.

“Maybe I want you to,” you purr, torn between making him coat your tits with come, or letting him fuck you first.

“No,” he says, voice more firm this time, “Gotta feel that perfect pussy before I do, baby girl,” he says, rising to full height, his arms wrapping under your armpits to bring you up with him. In one swift move, he has you turned and your back hits the mattress while a soft oof escapes your lungs.

Joel has a hazy, dark look in his eye as he hovers over you. His pupils are blown open wide with lust. You think he might fuck you then, but he looks down and notices that your pussy is still covered by the thin lace of your now-soiled panties. He kisses down your chest, your tummy, and his head eventually finds its place between your thighs. He plants a soft kiss on your mound, and he mutters how sweet he thinks you’re going to taste.

“Think we oughta find out,” he says, and he hooks his thumbs around the fabric and pulls them off your frame. Within seconds, his soft lips are on your wet folds.

"Fuck –,” you cry out as he licks a firm stripe up your pussy. Joel moans before making his tongue flat and massaging your clit with it. It’s so fucking good. "Taste so sweet, Darlin’, knew you would," Joel breathes, his breath hot against you.

He sinks a thick middle finger into you, and your walls clamp around the welcomed intrusion. His finger grazes against the soft spongy spot inside you that feels so good, and he works it in and out of you before adding another finger, twisting and working them both into you with precision. You’re so fucking close. You choke out a moan in response, enjoying the sensation of his long and thick fingers rubbing against your walls as his tongue makes tight circles around your sensitive clit.

You pull at your nipple with one hand and hold on to the top of his head, his hair entangled between your fingers as you attempt to hold on to him, an anchor to keep you from floating away, and he devours you.

His fingers thrust faster, his mouth firm on your throbbing bud, and he works to throw you over the cliff of your orgasm. You wail out, and the slurping groans that come from Joel are primal and filthy.

“Be a good girl for me,” he demands, his words barely audible with his mouth on your puffy lips, “want you to come,” he moans. “Come on pretty girl, I’ve got you – let me taste your sweet release.”

His dirty talk is all you need. "Yes, oh my god – Yes! Joel, fuck, I'm coming, don’t stop" you cry, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, your chest hot. Your vision goes white as you release yourself to him. Your back arches and your legs flex; your stomach feels like it’s being sucked into itself, and Joel works you through it, lapping up your come.

He rises from between your legs, his beard slick with your release, and smiles at you. As satisfied as you are at the moment, he’s the one that looks it. “Kiss me, darlin’,” he says, and his lips find yours. You savor the way it tastes; a hint of tang, but just so. You reach your hand in between your bodies to grab his cock, and he takes the hint.

“Gonna fuck you now,” he says, lining the entrance of his cock, the tip of it weeping with pre-cum, up against your wet and waiting hole. He presses his hips forward gently, and you begin to relax and flutter around him, feeling the subtle sting of an unfamiliar, yet not unpleasant, stretch.

“So big, feels so full, Joel,” you cry, “I know, baby. But I know she can handle it,” he coos, pressing impossibly deeper into you, until eventually he’s buried in you to the hilt. Underneath his solid frame, skin to skin, his cock firm inside of you, you feel your skin prickle hot and blood rushes through your ears. He fucks you equisitely, his chest crowding yours, but he bears the brunt of his weight on his forearms so as not to crush you too much.

He steadies like this for a while, before he eventually pushes himself up and grips the back of your knees. You follow his cue and pull them up, feet flat on the mattress beneath you. He folds them cross-cross onto your chest, obscenely stretching your needy hole around the girth of him.

You can’t breathe. He’s so big you swear you can feel him in your lungs. His cock drags in and out of you, making you shudder and your toes curl. The way he fucks you is so much – hard, deep, and passionate.

“You feel so good, Darlin’. Gripping me so fucking good, being such a good girl,” Joel moans.

“God, don’t stop, ugh I’m so close,” you say, eyes closing.

“Eyes open, baby. Want you to look at me while you come on my cock,” he says, as he takes your chin in his thumb and forefinger, demanding your attention.

Something snaps inside you, and your whole body tenses, and then releases in a sweet gush. “Jesus,” his blunt nails dig into the flesh of your hips before his jaw falls slack. With one more thrust, he loses himself, buried deep inside of you, your walls coaxing his balls empty. “Fuck, baby,” he growls as he empties everything inside you, finishing his climax with a guttural groan.

Joel pulls out, and you sigh at the loss of being full of him. He bends forward to press a kiss to the top of your head, inhaling sharp breaths, before falling to your side on the mattress.

You sit up onto your forearms, and a dribble of his release comes out of you. You grin down at him, surveying the damage. Joel’s complexion is pink, and his eyes are closed – he’s successfully been fucked into oblivion.

“Cmere, darlin’,” he says, eyes still closed, opening one arm open to welcome you into the warmth of his chest. You lay there, once again listening to his heart and the sounds of the rain on the grimy window in the room. You trail your index finger down his sternum.

“You know, I thought you hated me,” you say, your voice a little sad, but you know you need to get this off your chest. “I know you had to kill that guy because I wasn’t paying attention, and I really am sor–” Joel once again silences your sentence by placing his finger on your lips.

“Never say sorry to me again, Darlin’,” he says “‘sides, I’m the one who should be apologizin’, I’ve been a real asshole to you,” his voice sincere. “I just – I don’t know what I would ha’ done if I didn’t get to that guy in time, I’d never forgive myself if I lost you and could have prevented it.” His head drops to the pillow and he stares at the ceiling; your head finds it’s place once again the crook of his arm, nuzzled up against his side body for warmth.

There’s still so much more he wants to say, but he knows that he’ll have the time to do it later. He stares at the rough texture above him for a moment longer, before he quickly gets up, as if to remember something.

“Be right back,” he says and walks into the other room. He returns with a pack and pulls from it a little black container. “Found this during a raid the other day – thought of you,” he says, handing it to you. You jiggle it up by your ear and smile.

Film.

Joel Miller may be an asshole.

But he’s an asshole that most definitely doesn’t hate you.

END

Tagging moots and those who showed interest in the preview: @untamedheart81 @darkheartgatita @endlessthxxghts @hotgirlbedtimescenarios @bastardmandennis @dins-riduur-anthe @josephquinnswhore @drunk-and-capable @survivingandenduring @nosesitter @pedroswife69 @morallyinept @milly-louise @toxicanonymity @javiscigarette @planet-marz1 @anavatazes @dugiioh As always, please let me know if you want to be added or removed from my tag lists.xx

#joel miller the last of us #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller one shot #The last of us #enemies to lovers #pwp fics #pedro pascal character #joel miller #pedrohub #film photography

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muniimyg · 3 months

Text

TO BE (yours) // KNJ

he'll give in... right?

oc has always had a crush on her bodyguard, nam joon. when her monthly family dinner goes to shit, she turns to him for comfort. tonight, it was different. tonight, he just might give her exactly what she wants

navi | m. list | ask me !

pairing: bodyguard nam joon + heiress oc

au/genre:

bodyguard au

one shot

porn with(out) plot

warnings: oc has some grandma issues, oc is insanely unhinged (oc makes nam joon watch as she pleasures herself), masturbation/fingering (oc makes him hold her hand while she fingers herself), nipple play, blow job (oc chokes), slapping (of face and ass) and riding... name calling (joon calls her a slut, whore, and bitch), cockwarming ?? making out,, yeah idk ! find the rest out for urself ;)

note: happy birthday @joonsjuice LMAO

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @taetaecatboy @pb-n-juju @miss-rainy-days @firesighgirl @whoa-jo @vantxx95 @pamzn @kakixaku @casspirit0705 @tae165 @defzcl @sopebubbles @leefics @ggukkieland @bebebutbetter @yoongimentita7 @boraength @era-genius @4ksj @vampcharxter @miss-jupiter @floweryjeons @taegijns @jeonqkooks-main @ellesalazar

“I hate this fucking life!”

Before you can slam your bedroom door shut, a foot is placed to prevent you from doing so.

You huff, knowing exactly who is following you.

There was no point putting up a fight. Regardless of what you do, you know exactly how he would handle you. So, you move on. You focus on your feelings and the stress wrapped around it. As you take off your skirt and unbutton your blouse, he makes his way to his regular position.

Nam Joon stands beside the door, feet firmly planted on the ground, his hands placed in front, and his gaze straight ahead. If this was any other bodyguard, their presence would irritate you and ignite your anger even more… But this was Nam Joon.

It’s different.

Oddly enough, there's a sense of comfort when he's around. It feels like it's okay for you to be angry and throw a tantrum. He'd cover for you. He'd protect you. He'd deal with you.

Regardless, this is routine.

Once a month, you attend your infamous grandmother’s family dinner. There, you’d share your company’s progress and plans, and receive criticism.

No praise.

No empathy.

No encouragement.

It is never good enough for her. Even though you have a more successful business than your siblings and cousins—it meant nothing To your grandmother, it didn’t matter.

It always better.

To do better.

To be better.

After these horrendous dinners, you’d go home in tears. The pressure she’d put on you is often unnecessary, but you feel it. To your very core, you feel how intense the need to please her is.

Sometimes, you were angry. Often, you were sad.

For comfort, you’d typically contact your family friend, Jung Hoseok for some… Release. Sometimes, it was talking things through. Other times, it included fucking… But those nights were rare.

During those times, Nam Joon would wait outside the door. It made you wonder that night if he liked what he heard… Or if he felt jealous…

If he even gave it a second thought at all.

You see…

You’ve been unhinged since birth. By your grandmother’s orders, she hired a bodyguard service for you. To keep you in check or whatever (as if you’re this wild child that isn’t running the biggest company in your family). To keep you safe. To keep an eye on you. To keep you from doing bad things.

Sucks to suck because the only bad thing you want to do is your bodyguard.

Thank you, Grandma!

When Nam Joon came into your life, it felt like Christmas. He’s tall, handsome, smart, and funny in his own ways. If anything, he’s perfect for you. Aside it being his job, you really feel like he knows you. Your next moves and even your feelings—he’s good at predicting and protecting them.

It’s like not you could hide your intentions and attraction either. No, you take any and every chance to flirt with him.

Truth be told, you really need him to dick you down.

“Crazy how I’m literally changing in front of you and you would rather look at the wall,” you tease, as you unclip your bra and throw it at his head.

Nam Joon removes your bra from his head and continues to stay silent. Him ignoring you is something he does when he knows your emotions are high.

Rolling your eyes, you open your closet and grab your pajamas. You chose wisely, of course… You noticed Nam Joon’s eyes linger a little longer when you wear flimsy things. So, that’s exactly what you wear tonight.

A little ditzy floral pyjama set.

The fabric itself is thin and tight, making it easy for your nipples and the curve of your breast to be outlined. The shorts are practically panties… Guess you won’t be needing underwear either, right?

Once you put on the top, you bend down to take your underwear off. You throw it back, aiming for his head again. Perfectly, it lands just where you want it to.

“Oops! Sorry, I meant to get that in my laundry bin.” You explain, laughing as you put the shorts on.

You see Nam Joon’s shoulders rise and fall. He sighs, as he takes your underwear off of his head and places it in your laundry bin for you.

Cutely, you bump into him as you make your way to bed. Nam Joon purses his lips at you, almost feeling the need to choke when he sets his eyes on your pajamas.

You were doing this on purpose.

He knows it.

Tilting your head at him, you ask, “Do you like it?”

Nam Joon clears his throat as he stands to the side. Gestures at your bed, he ignores your question but replies with; “you’ve had a long day, Ms. ___. Please go to bed.”

“You know what else is long?”

“Ms. ___—”

“Oh, come on!” you whine, as you drop to your knees. “It’s not like this is the first time I’ve asked.”

“It’s also not the first time I’m saying no,” he chuckles. Then, he bends down, grabs you by the waist, and lifts you.

Your heart begins to race as he carries you.

He’s done this only a couple of times—more because you were having a temper-tantrum and he had to remove you from the environment. There was also this one time when you were crying so much at your grandmother’s dinner table that he swooped in like a knight in shining armour. That was probably the day you felt something for him…

A feeling beyond your wet pussy, that is.

Nam Joon sets you gently on your bed. As you lay, you reach for his hand. He turns to you and blinks.

“Joon…”

“Did you need something?”

“You.”

He squints his eyes at you.

“Go to sleep, Ms. ___.”

“Awh, come on!” you cry as he leaves your side. You miss your heart fluttering already. “You don’t even have to make me cum—”

With a warning tone, he interrupts you. “Goodnight, Ms. ___.”

Annoyed, you shift around your bed and attempt to make yourself comfortable. Unfortunately for you, all you can think about are your grandmother’s harsh words from tonight's dinner and the silence of your siblings and cousins whose lips did not even twitch to defend you.

Your grandmother’s invasive words begin to consume you. The feeling is… Horrible. It was rough, to say the least. Maybe, instead of distracting yourself… You could use Nam Joon for something else.

“Do you think my grandma hates me?” you ask with a weary tone.

Nam Joon reaches over to dim your bedroom lights and takes his time to walk back to his placement. As he does so, he thinks about it. This was also routine of you….

To hit on him, to get sad and look for comfort, and then finally go to sleep. It wasn’t every night—just the family dinner ones. On the regular, it would just be you making one or two flirtatious commentaries and then falling asleep as soon as possible.

Moments where you look for validation and comfort he thinks these are the purest moments of you. The fact that you’re about to rest, but can’t because you’re reflecting on the things that make you feel uneasy… Well, let’s just say that it’s on the list of reasons why he hasn’t quit his job. Aside from liking his profession, he also likes you.

There’s never a dull moment.

“I think she just wants you to be the best.” He answers plainly. “She just doesn’t express it well.”

You sigh. “So that means what I do right now isn’t the best? It’s not good enough? Is that it?”

“No,” Nam Joon shakes his head. “I think she expects more because you are more. The potential she wants from you is real because it lives in you. She’s impatient about seeing it, but business is all about growth and building. Ms. ___, you know you’re amazing, right? You’re perfect. Your grandmother could never hate you even though it may feel like it.”

Snickering, you cross your arms. “Are you just saying that because you’re on her payroll?”

“No,” he assures you. “I’m saying it because it’s the truth. Besides, you’re smart enough to know when I’m lying anyway.”

His words hit you.

Suddenly feel better. There’s no other way of explaining why. Sometimes, all you really need is a friend… But being friends with Nam Joon?

You hate that.

“... So, you think I’m amazing?”

Nam Joon doesn’t respond.

So, you try again.

“If I’m so amazing… Then, why don’t you want me? No one’s here, you know! It’s just you and me. Nothing bad is gonna happen… You don’t need to protect me—”

“Ms. ___—”

“I’ve wanted you for so long… You know it too! Come on, I know you just as well as you know me—“

“Highly doubt that, princess.”

“I want to know you… All of you,” you confess, quickly getting out of bed. You stand in front of him and look up at him. Batting your eyelashes, you try to sound as innocent as possible. “Tell me you don’t want me.”

Nam Joon feels a shiver.

He gulps as you place your hand on his chest, slowly moving it around to feel him. In an even slower motion, you begin to slide your hand down from his chest to his abdomen. He lowers his gaze at you as you give him pleading eyes. Gulping, he watches your hands make their way to his belt.

Then, he stops you.

Just as you’re about to unbuckle it, he grabs your wrists and pulls you up.

“I don’t want you.”

His words cut deep and his tone is harsh.

Too harsh.

There’s a look in his eyes that you’re well aware of. In that understanding, you don’t feel so awful anymore. So, you keep your head high. If he wants to play like this, then so be it.

Let’s play.

“Good thing I’m smart and I know when you’re lying.” You then place your hand on his cheeks and squish his lips together. Tiptoeing, you place a small kiss on his lips.

Nam Joon is caught off guard.

This never happened before! It never went this far…

He thought he was immune to you. In a cliché sense, he didn’t this would happen. He’d be an idiot to not recognize that sexual tension between you two since the very beginning—but he never pictured it like this.

He never pictured his dreams to come true.

Just as Nam Joon is about to give in, you pull away.

It’s then that he hates himself. He wishes he spent more time memorizing the way your lips felt against his. Who knows if you’d ever do this to him again, right? This was a once-in-a-million for him.

You’re his one.

“Since you want to stand there and watch… Fine. Stand there and watch.”

Without saying another word, you twirl his tie in your hand and gentle tug him to follow as you make your way back to your bed. Nam Joon doesn’t really move though. He stays still, only letting his head turn as you let go of his tie. He watches with lustful eyes as you crawl onto your bed. Positioning yourself, you lean your back against your headboard and sit up in a way where you can comfortably plant your feet. Nam Joon’s eyes almost fall out of his head the second you suck on your fingers, open your legs, and shove your lubed fingers inside your shorts.

Nam Joon feels stuck.

He should look away, right? For some reason, he can’t. He has looked the other way every time you changed or tried to kiss him… Tonight, was different.

Tonight, he was weak.

As you let out a breathy moan, you begin to rub yourself.

Feeling the way your soft pussy is against your fingers, you whimper at the thought of Nam Joon caving and taking his place in between your legs. You apply some pressure and rub circles on your clit. Doing this begins slowly, but as you stare at Nam Joon in his suit, you can’t help but feel sensations in your pelvis. You rub yourself faster, feeling your legs tighten as you do so.

You rub yourself for what feels like a good 5 minutes. Noticing how quiet it suddenly became and how he’s not making any comments, you take this opportunity to tease him.

With a small voice, you ask, “N-Nam Joon… A-are y-you watching?”

He doesn’t respond.

“Can y-you look at me, p-please?” you stutter through the sensation. “I’m touching my pussy for you… So you have to be watching, okay? This is for you.”

Expecting silence, Nam Joon surprises you with his words.

“I’m watching, princess.”

You feel a relief.

In an even softer tone, you whine, “Good. D-do you like it? Do you like what you see? Am I doing it right?”

“Yeah,” he confesses. “Doing so good, princess. Don’t stop.”

Biting your lip, you spread your legs out even more. As you rub yourself, you squirm from the feeling of this not being enough.

Meanwhile, Nam Joon feels like he’s stuck in a trance. He can’t keep his eyes off of you as you pleasure yourself. He wishes to do it for you… But not yet. A part of him is curious to see how far you can push yourself. How much can you take? How far will you go? He wants to know when he’s needed… He wants to wait it out and let you have this.

“My pussy is leaking through my shorts… Is it pretty?”

Nam Joon’s breath hitches. “Yeah. It’s pretty.”

“I’m glad you think so… I’m thinking of you. You made this mess.”

The truth is, he’s afraid when you give this to him… He won’t be able to quit. He’ll be selfish. He’ll have you any way he wants and ignore what you want. So, this is him being considerate. This is him being patient. This is him letting you have your fun.

“Should I stick my fingers inside?”

He utters a hiss... Yet, with a soft tone, he encourages you, “Do what you want.”

“I need help.”

Nam Joon huffs. “You can do it yourself. If you can start this, you can finish.”

You groan, throwing your head back. “A-arghh, fine… Can you hold my hand though?”

He raises a brow.

But he also picks up his feet and makes his way to you.

He stands on the side of your bed and offers you his hand. Gladly, you take it. With your other hand, you split your folds open. Tugging on his hand, you pout.

“Can you spit on it? I would do it but… Your spit would help me cum faster.”

Too stunned to speak, Nam Joon sucks his inner cheek, runs his tongue along his teeth, and gathers spit from the back of his throat. He then leans over and—

“Mhmm,” you moan, massaging his spit in your pussy. “Fuck, that got me so horny. Are you horny?”

Nam Joon glares at you.

“Hurry up and cum,” he hisses. “ I’m supposed to be watching—”

“You are, aren’t you?”

Nam Joon gets the feeling you’re alluding to something completely different from his job. It makes him sick to his stomach that he’s fucking into it. God, did you have to be this compelling? All he can do is push you away… At least, try to.

“This is getting ridiculous.”

You let a small laugh escape your lips. “Are you serious?”

He shrugs.

“Nam Joon, you’re holding my hand, spitting on my pussy, and about to watch me finger myself… Me asking you if you’re horny is where you’re deciding this is ridiculous—”

“___, just fucking cum already.”

Instantly, you roll your eyes at him.

The attitude.

He needs his dick sucked or something.

In response, you wiggle your fingers at him. He gives you a blank expression and turns away for a moment. You take that as your sign to start. With one finger, you insert it inside you. Your pussy clenches and your reaction extends to you squeezing Nam Joon’s hand. As you finger yourself, you try to focus on hitting your climax.

It’s much more frustrating than it is easy. The man whose cock you desperately want inside of you is just fucking standing there while your fingers do you no justice.

So, in the silence of your dimly lit bedroom, you shut your eyes and imagine him more intensely. You imagine Nam Joon’s fingers inside you. You imagine how his lips would feel against your skin. How his soft tongue would feel like giving your clit kitten licks. You moan at the very thought, and get excited over the fact that he’s actually here. Even though he’s not touching you the way you want right now, at least he was here.

He was watching.

Listening to every whimper.

Every breathy utter of his name.

Then, you feel the sensation in between your legs take over. You pump your fingers faster and lazily begin to rub yourself to finish off. You squirm, murmuring his name in between breaths.

Nam Joon can’t stop watching the way your pussy spreads and how tiny your fingers are. Every time you squeeze his hand, his eyes dart to the way your pussy gets more swollen. On top of that, he loves the way your chest rises. Your nipples are so fucking hard right now.

He’d kill to lick them.

To bite them.

To suck on them.

Fuck it.

Maybe he should fold.

So lost in thought, he misses it. In a blink of an eye, you cum and let out a lewd moan. As you catch your breath, you let go of his hand and massage your pussy.

“Are you finished?” Nam Joon asks.

You let out a dramatic sigh. “Yeah, I guess. It was fun but honestly? I’m still horny.”

“Not good enough?”

“You tell me,” you grab his hand and tug him to your pussy.

He didn’t expect it.

It’s too late for him. By the time he registered what you were doing, his fingers were already inbetween your folds. You hold his wrist and control the way he touches you. Dragging his hands up and down, you feel tingles begin again.

“See? I came, right?”

“Y-yeah,” Nam Joon stutters for the first time tonight. “So wet.”

You scoff. “I usually cum more than this… This is so weird! I don’t get what I did wrong. I thought of you as usual—”

“Princess…” He takes his hand away, signaling you that you’re crossing the line. Shrugging, you offer him an innocent look. “Don’t.”

“Taste me,” you suggest. “If you don’t like the way I taste then you can go back to your little spot over there and do whatever you want. You can keep listening and watching me pleasure myself… But just know, I won’t cum for a long time. I’m horny as fuck but I just can’t get off all by myself! It’s too hard… Deal?”

“Deal? You’re insane,” he grumbles. “Do you hear yourself?”

“I do…” you assure him. “Do you hear me? Because it doesn’t have to be like that. You can stand over there—hey, I’ll even let you jerk off—or you can do it yourself. Make me cum. Fuck me as hard as you can. Take what you want. Your choice.”

Nam Joon gulps as you sit up and wrap your arms around his neck. Tilting your head at him, you look into his eyes and wait for his decision.

Nam Joon waits for a second too long.

Your gaze softens as you take his silence as a no. That’s okay. You can just keep touching yourself and drag it out longer. It’d be fun for you anyway… This was his loss.

As you pull away, just as you’re about to lay down, Nam Joon cups your cheeks and crashes his lips against yours. He kisses you deep, slipping his tongue in. You waste no time, finding his tongue and sucking on it as he pull away for air. You smile against his kiss, and continue to make out with him. His hands travel from your cheeks to your breast and holy shit.

You’re so fucking happy.

He palms your breasts and pays special attention to your nipples. They’re so hard and sensitive. He knows it. So, he takes his time.

First, he pitches them lightly. You gasp and he laughs into the kiss. Mumbling, “sorry, sorry… my bad, princess,” into your kiss. He runs his thumb over your nipples, stimulating your drive evn more. He then twists them and earns another gasp from you. This time, a moan follows. Next, he cups your entire breast with his hands and squeezes them. Pulling away from the kiss, he scrunches your top over your breasts and dives in.

He licks your nipples, slaps your breasts, and bites them.

God, when he bites them—

“O-okay, okay,” you stop him, “gonna need you to start fucking me or else I’m gonna cum with you just doing this.”

“Like me that much?” he teases.

You glare at him. “Might lose interest after seeing your dick though.”

With that, Nam Joon folds.

He towers over you, as your hands instantly make their way to unbutton his shirt. Midway through, he kisses you. It’s deep and desperate—like he has wanted this for so long too.

When his shirt is off, you move on to unbuckle his belt. You do it as quickly as possible, ever so happy to finally be able to see his length. Taking his pants off, he tosses them aside.

You can’t believe it.

His cock is so perfect.

It’s chiseled like it’s meant to be art.

“Okay, y-yeah,” you choke. “I’m interested.”

Before he can even respond, Nam Joon throws his head back from the pleasure of you sucking his dick. Holy shit, you just went for it.

As your mouth wraps around his tip, you take in how he tastes. The precum that sat in the crease of his tip was a little salty. He tastes even better the more you suck. His cock in your mouth is so big. It’s full, girthy, and long. Without needing to try, his length hits the back of your throat multiple times. With teary eyes, you gag, choke, and slobber all of his fat cock.

Like a fucking dog.

Like a fucking bitch.

Like his fucking whore.

Nam Joon loves the sight.

He takes a handful of your hair and fucks himself deeper in your pretty mouth. This time, when his cock hits the back of your throat, he holds you still. You breathe in through your nose, sucking as much of him as you can. When you let out an intense gasp for air, he pulls away and feels his stomach twist as strings of your saliva drip.

Nam Joon repositions you.

He lays down on his back and places you on top of him. There, you let your hands roam his chest as he helps you take your shorts off. His pecks are large and rock-hard. You love the way they feel and as he takes heavy breaths in, you note the way his abs flex.

It’s such a beautiful sight.

“This is what you wanted, right?” Nam Joon scoffs, as he reaches for his dick. He pumps himself lazily before placing it at your entrance. “Want me so bad? Let’s see how much. Do you think you can last bouncing on my cock? You barely lasted 10 minutes fingering yourself. You were thinking about me too, right? Holding my hand and shit? Have you always been a fucking whore?”

You pout, nodding. “Yeah. I am such a fucking whore for you… I’ve been so patient. Did I wait well?”

Without warning, Nam Joon slaps you in the face.

“This is about me,” he growls. “You want me. You have me. You get to fuck me. Get that? You waited, and you got the prize. Me. Shut the fuck up and do your fucking job, slut. I’ll praise you when I want. Don’t ask for it. Understand?”

You nod.

He slaps your face again.

“Answer me, bitch.”

You bite your bottom lip. “I understand.”

“Good,” Nam Joon says, satisfied. “Whenever you’re ready…”

You purse your lips, asking for one more kiss. He kisses you, and as he does so, you take his cock and try to put it in. For some reason, perhaps because of how wet you are, his cock keeps slipping or your hole is just too fucking small for him. When he realizes what’s going on, he sits up a little.

In a low tone, he offers, “Here, I’ll help you put it in.”

You look at him as he guides it in. You watch how soft his gaze turns the minute you sink into his member. You swear he feels the butterflies too. As you adjust to his size, you begin to move a little. Rolling your hips, you also add a little bounce. For stability, you place your hands on his chest.

“That’s it,” he moans, “my slut is such a good girl.”

“Mhmm,” you breathe, “s-so good. You fill me up so good, Joon.”

As you ride him, you begin to feel more and more desperate for his cock to fuck you. This entire time, you had been doing all the work and goddamn it’s fucking exhausting. You slam your pussy onto his dick visciously, picking up the pace and trying to catch your orgasm—but you get so fucking tired.

It’s so annoying.

“I—” you cry, “a-agghhh!”

“I got you.”

Suddenly, Nam Joon wraps his arms around your body and holds you tight. It’s like a hug, but as he does it, he drills his fucking cock into you. Like never before, you feel his length reach spots you missed as you rode him. Nam Joon drills like there’s no tomorrow. It’s so rough and intense, he slaps your ass while he’s at it. You’re constantly moaning, and at this point—

“You like it like this, little slut? Such a fucking whore for wanting it like this… Gonna take my cum? Gonna get so fucked up you can’t walk tomorrow?”

“Mhmmm,” you sob. “Yes, I want it like this. J-just like that! Fuck yes, yes, yes!”

“You think about this, huh? Always imagining how it’d be like for me to fuck you? Are you happy now? Are you fucking happy? Greedy little bitch always gets what she wants, huh?”

“So happy,” you gasp. “I love your cock. You’re so good to me, Joon.”

Something inside him flips. He loves the way you say his name. He loves the way this feels and is even more in love with the way that it’s with you. With that being said…

He fucks you harder.

Rough, sloppy, messy.

It’s so fucking good that you grip onto his hair and let out a few sobs. You murmur his name into his ear and your pussy clenches every time he kisses you. You bury your face in the crook of his neck and concentrate on how blissful this all is. After a few moments—

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god—”

You cum.

But it doesn’t stop there.

Even though you came, he didn’t.

Nam Joon continues to fuck you through your orgasm as he reaches his. Feeling the sensation, he curls his toes and digs his cock deep into you as he releases. Nam Joon stuffs his cum inside you, and pumps in and out a few more times.

Then, he leaves it inside.

As his cum spills, he keeps his cock inside you. Too tired to pull out, but also too in his head. He wants this to last longer than it has. He wants it again if possible… But that’s asking for too much. He knows it.

Without exchanging any words, you lift your face and lean in. You and Nam Joon make out, nice and slow. It’s so opposite from what you two were just doing… But it was nice. You even play with his hair as you two kiss. He likes it. You know he does because he smirks against your lips.

When you pull away, it’s like a wave of emotions hit Nam Joon.

What the fuck did he just do?

He isn’t sure what to say or to do… All he knows is that it was good. It was fun. He had wanted this moment for a while too. Is that something he should regret? Getting what he has wanted and waited for? He doesn’t know.

As you two lay beside one another, you reach for him and curl into his embrace. Quickly, you fall asleep. The entire thing tired you out. Nam Joon contemplates if he should get up and resume to his usual service… Or should he just lay here? Be with you?

Was that an option?

Either way, he knows one things for sure…

He’d be here in the morning.

To protect you.

To fuck you.

To be yours.

#bts one shot #nam joon smut #rm x yn #rm smut #rm bodyguard au #bts smut #bts scenario #nam joon scenario #nam joon fanfic #nam joon imagine #bts imagine #bts pwp #rm pwp

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spiderstarion · 8 months

Text

✧ ೃ༄ੈ✩ the sun and the stars | astarion + tav/reader

"You've had a deep instinct to impress Astarion since the moment you met him. You're very aware of this instinct, and you can easily recall multiple situations in which you tried to handle things in ways that you thought might make the vampire proud of you, as embarrassing as that is. You never let it change your moral stances, but the more you think about it, the more apparent it becomes to you just how dangerous the hold he has on you is. You barely know him, and he could bend and break you with just his word if he wanted to.

You weigh these options in your head, but deep in your chest, you knew your answer the second he said anything to you."

Alternatively: you are a relatively experienced adventurer, but a very inexperienced romantic partner. Astarion digs it.

! this is part one to a two part fic! part two will be out sometime around september 17th, 2023. this fic was also cross-posted. you can find the links to the other postings at the bottom of this!

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You have been drinking for what feels like hours. You can feel your head spinning as you dance your way around camp, stopping every once in a while to speak to one of the very thankful tieflings littered about. This is fun, you think, probably the most fun you've had in years. Definitely the most fun you've had in the past couple of weeks.

You wander aimlessly around, clumsily, drink in hand, when your gaze falls on Astarion. He's standing in front of his tent, face full of annoyance, as he sips from the glass in his hand. A young tiefling approaches him and says something, and you see a very fake smile flash across his face. He rolls his eyes as she walks away. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion as you begin your journey towards him.

"Why are you moping over here all by yourself, are you not enjoying the party?" You ask, words slightly slurring together, stumbling a bit as you approach the deep burgundy tent.

A small smirk spreads on the sharp face of the pale elf, one that feels much more real than what he gave the tiefling woman moments ago, "woah, there, darling," he begins, sitting down his glass and gently steadying you by your shoulders.

"Perhaps you've had too much to drink tonight."

You roll your eyes, holding eye contact and taking another sip from your own cup in a teasing sort of defiance.

"It’s a party, Astarion, you're supposed to be having fun!"

He chuckles, a deep velvet song that travels effortlessly into your brain and settles itself in all the right places. You feel goosebumps begin to raise on your arms at the realization that his skin is touching yours.

"I'm not quite the type to be celebrated for heroism, my sweet," he starts, "I kind of hate this, actually."

Much to your dismay, he pulls his hands away, crossing his arms on his chest. Your skin feels electric where his hands just were, and you feel the need to yank them up and put them back.

You don't do that, though, and instead your brows furrow deeper as the statement registers.

"Really? I thought you'd be all for being celebrated, no matter the occasion." There's a hint of teasing in your voice, but it's a genuine statement. This scene seems like something Astarion would absolutely bask in.

He shrugs, a usually anxious gesture somehow made so confident by the tall man, "I don't know, perhaps I'm just hoping for some real fun to find me tonight."

You snort, a sound that escapes your body involuntarily and causes you, even in your drunken state, to internally cringe at the idea of what that must've looked like to him.

"And what does that mean? This is about as fun as it gets!" You proclaim, confident, though that doesn't last long as the look of humor that plasters itself across Astarion's face quickly makes you feel as though you're missing something. Your face falls.

"What?" You ask, eyes wide, "what's so funny?"

"Oh, you innocent thing," you can feel your cheeks and the tips of your pointed ears begin to heat, no doubt burning a bright red against your skin. Astarion leans in close to you, his cheek brushing against yours lightly. His hand finds its way to the dip of your waist, resting there so lightly you almost don't feel it through the fabric of your large shirt.

"I'm talking about sex, my dear." His voice is soft and warm against your ear, and you can feel his breath cascade down your neck in a way that sends shivers along your spine. You nearly drop your glass, trying to compose your face so the pure horror you feel isn't evident.

You can't help yourself, though.

"With me?" you ask, timidly, eyes desperately trying to focus on anything but him to relieve the immense anxiety building in your chest.

"Would you like that?" Your breath hitches in your throat at the question, and your glass hits the ground. It feels as though the world is spinning, and you instinctively reach up and grab at the fabric of Astarion's ruffled white shirt with both hands, gripping like it's the only thing keeping you grounded on Faerûn.

You take a deep breath, eyes fluttering shut as the vague scent of bergamot and rosemary fills your senses. He presses the pads of his fingers slightly into your hip, and you feel a deep heat begin to build between your thighs.

"I.." the words you're looking for escape you and you can't seem to form a single coherent thought. Astarion has always been unattainable. You're not the kind of person who attracts people like him. He's confident, beautiful, and he's never shown an ounce of interest in you before — in fact, you've always thought he felt very negatively about you, given the way he's always opposing your actions.

He lets out another breathy laugh, pulling away slightly so he's face to face with you, forehead less than an inch from yours.

"Open your eyes," he says, a quiet demand. You don't know what compels you to listen, but you force yourself to obey, opening your eyes. Anxiously, you keep them trained on the dip of his collarbone — you can't bear to maintain eye contact with him with the intense feeling currently burning a hole in your chest.

"Look at me, darling," his hand comes up from your hip, gently guiding your chin upward between his index and thumb, until you’re eye to eye with him. The embarrassment grounds itself deep in your veins, and you're sure you must look like a tomato right now with how hard you're blushing. It takes every ounce of control you have to not turn and run away from this feeling.

"I am going to leave and walk into the woods," he begins, "into the clearing near the lake where we washed our clothing earlier, do you remember?" His voice isn't condescending or teasing — you swear you sense a sort of affection lingering on the ends of his words – it’s completely genuine.

You nod at the question, eyes wide with fear and desire. You say a prayer that he won't notice how blown out your pupils are.

"Good. I'm going to walk to that clearing, and if you would like to join me, I will be waiting." He finishes his sentence with a quick flash of a smile before turning around, grabbing his glass, and wandering off into the woods.

You stand in that spot, completely dumbfounded, for what feels like a very long time. Your brain is running at a million miles an hour trying to comprehend what could have possibly just happened. You feel almost sober after that experience, and part of you is convinced that there's no way that could've been real.

You have a choice to make, and you weigh the options in your brain.

If you decide to stay here at camp and continue about the party like nothing happened, how would that affect your relationship with Astarion going forward? He doesn't quite seem like the type to hold this against you — he did give you a choice, after all — but you don't really know him well enough to be sure. What if you deny him this and he disappears? While you're not super close with Astarion, you do like him quite a bit and it would probably affect you more than you'd like to admit if he left. Plus, he's a good asset for the team. It would be difficult to get through the upcoming challenges that you're sure you're going to face without him.

Now, if you gave in to the much more desirable option and followed him into the woods...

You pause, visualizing the outcome. He would find out that you're a virgin, that's for sure. There's no way you could possibly hide it from someone as experienced as Astarion. You're a terrible liar normally, but in this situation you're sure it would be damn near impossible to play it off like you even kind of knew what you were doing. Maybe he wouldn't care... But what if he does? What if you go out there and he finds out and he laughs in your face? You shudder at the thought.

You've had a deep instinct to impress Astarion since the moment you met him. You're very aware of this instinct, and you can easily recall multiple situations in which you tried to handle things in ways that you thought might make the vampire proud of you, as embarrassing as that is. You never let it change your moral stances, but the more you think about it, the more apparent it becomes to you just how dangerous the hold he has on you is. You barely know him, and he could bend and break you with just his word if he wanted to.

You weigh these options in your head, but deep in your chest, you knew your answer the second he said anything to you.

Legs shaking, hands numb, throat dry, you shakily turn and look towards the forest behind your camp. You take a deep breath in, holding it in your lungs for a moment before exhaling and straightening out your posture, a determined look creeping its way onto your face.

Nervously, you begin to make your way towards the clearing.

You feel like a baby deer as you carry yourself through the woods, tripping and stumbling against every rogue branch and rock. There's a persistent heat that has made itself comfortable right in the core of your stomach, and the closer you get to the clearing, the more intense it grows. You can smell the salty breeze of the lake waft in your direction as you head towards it, and the cold breeze that follows after it has you shivering and rubbing your palms against your upper arms, trying to warm yourself.

You reach the lake, and it's an absolutely beautiful sight. The water sparkles and ripples against the reflection of the large full moon beating down against it, and it envelopes everything in a dark blue hue. Far against the expanse of water, on the very edge of the horizon, you can see a spot of land, adorned with bright orange lights that bounce off the lake and fill the area with warmth.

You feel like you're being watched, as you take in the sight before you, and you freeze where you're standing. Slowly, a hand reaches itself from behind you, wrapping around your waist and pressing it's palm flat against the bottom of your stomach. Cold lips brush against the outside lining of your ear, something sharp tugging at the skin for just a moment, before you hear him speak.

"There you are," he says, his tone full of approval as his other arm wraps itself around your waist to envelop you fully. Despite his cold touch, your face and sex burn white hot at the contact.

"I'm so glad you made the right decision," his right hand travels upward slowly, flat palm fully exploring the clothed expanse of your stomach before tracing lightly around the mound of your breast. He grabs it lightly, squeezing softly and rubbing in slow, small circles. You can't help but let your eyes fall shut, mouth hanging open at the electric touch.

"I have wanted you since the moment I first saw you, you know. All small and shy and pure," he chuckles, mouth ghosting against your skin as it travels down to your neck. He presses a kiss against your skin.

"You can barely hold a conversation without reverting in on yourself,” his voice is barely there, all breath as he kisses up and down your neck. Your fingertips buzz with anticipation and your mind races.

"Yet, the moment we enter battle," the hand lying against your waist begins to slowly make its way down the plane of your stomach, melting over the curves as it approaches the heat building between your thighs.

"It's like your bloodlust overtakes you. You become someone entirely different," his finger traces ever so lightly against your clothed clit, forcing a small gasp to fall from your lips as your legs open instinctually, "chest heaving, covered in blood, eyes lidded in an ecstasy I've only ever seen in brothels... There's something nearly animalistic about it."

His finger presses slightly harder against your clit, and you squeeze your eyes shut tighter as he rubs it gently, small noises falling effortlessly from your mouth. The hand he has palming your breast begins to journey upward, slotting itself perfectly into position around your throat – his long, dexterous fingers gripping the skin tightly, causing your breath to strain.

You can't help the way your hips buck up into the touch, and your hands shoot forward to wrap around his forearm, urging his fingers in their gentle assault against you. You try desperately to hold his hand in place and grind yourself harder against it, but he's much stronger than you. Instead, he pulls his hand away completely, turning your body to face his as he pushes you back by your neck.

You stumble and trip over the branches and stones littering the ground, but he keeps you upright as he continues to lead you backward. Your eyes flutter open, staring up through heavy lashes to meet him, and you can physically feel yourself tighten at the sight. His eyes must be ten shades darker than they usually are, his pupils blown, nearly wiping the dark red color out completely. You can practically taste the lust dripping off of his sharp features, his face stern and his eye contact ruthless. You typically find it extremely difficult to hold eye contact with Astarion for long periods of time, but you just can’t pull yourself to look away from the gorgeous sight.

You feel your back hit the rough bark of a tree somewhere behind you, and you grunt at the feeling. It’s sharp, and it stings through your shirt, but there’s little time to focus on the pain as, almost immediately, Astarion presses his lips against yours. A wave of panic surges through you, and you feel the ball of anxiety in your chest burn hotter, growing and growing, as he swipes his tongue against your lips.

He wants in, and, fuck, you want to let him in, but you falter. Your hands work their way in between your bodies, and you push at his chest lightly, mouth sealed, eyes open. He pauses, pulling away, hand around your throat loosening.

He looks at you through lidded eyes, completely blown out, fangs peeking out from beneath his top lip.

“Is something the matter?” He asks, his tone still holding a hint of the lust it did before. You swallow, the anxiety in your throat refusing to move as the heat of embarrassment begins to replace the burning desire that was building itself up in the core of your stomach.

“I…” You start to speak, but stop yourself again for the second time tonight. How do you even say this without sounding completely incompetent? You feel stupid for not having thought about this before you wandered out here after him. You feel like banging your head against the nearest hard surface for being so oblivious.

Of course he was going to kiss you. That’s what lovers do. It’s one of the first steps in any intimate encounter, sexual or not, and you – ditzy and airheaded as ever – couldn’t have even considered that this would happen before following him out here blindly and putting yourself into one of the most uncomfortable situations you’ve ever been in?

You can see he’s holding his breath, clearly expecting a rejection of his advances or some sort of big drop of information. As you open your mouth to speak, you can tell it’s not what he was expecting to hear.

“I’ve never kissed anyone before.” You force it out, and the sentence hangs heavy in the air. Your chest tightens as you push the words out, and you nervously pinch and pull at the fabric of his shirt, eyes avoiding his at all costs.

He’s silent for a moment, “really?” he asks, astonished. You nod.

“But… you’ve had sex?”

You cringe again, bracing yourself for the worst as you slowly shake your head 'no'. Everything is still for a moment, and you manage to quickly flick your eyes up to get an image of the damage. Astarion’s mouth is open slightly in shock, his eyes scanning you for any trace of joking or deception. You can feel your face practically boiling under the heat of your blush, and you momentarily think that you’d probably enjoy the rare sight of the vampire rendered speechless if it weren’t for the unwavering insecurity you had swirling around this situation.

“Huh.” He breaks the silence, taking a step back, and your body slumps forward slightly, immediately missing the security of having something to lean on.

It’s nearly impossible for you to make out what’s going through his head. You watch his face carefully, doing your best to try and understand what he could possibly be thinking.

It’s silent for a long time. Your back is still pressed tight against the tree behind you, and the anxiety bubbling in your chest feels like it’s about to spew out any second.

“Well,” Astarion’s voice cuts through the quiet, a smile spreading across his face. The smile isn’t genuine or even mocking like you’ve come to expect, instead it seems extremely forced, almost like he’s uncomfortable with the way this situation played out. You couldn’t blame him, you weren’t very comfortable with it either.

“My apologies, then,” he says, turning on his heels and beginning to walk back toward camp. Your mouth falls open in shock, your eyebrows furrowing together. You open your mouth to call for him, but nothing comes out, and he quickly disappears into the dense trees.

After a moment, you begin to slide your body down the tree, slumping to the ground, defeated, and you stay there for a long time. Distantly, you can hear the sound of the party starting to die down. You do your best not to cry, but you just can’t help it as the waves of embarrassment wash over you. You feel stupid, you feel self-conscious, you feel frustrated. The emotion just crashes down on you like a ton of rocks.

You don’t return to camp until you’re sure everyone is asleep.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

✦ archiveofourown

✦ wattpad

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

I am currently looking for beta readers and editors for my fics! i cannot pay you for this job, but i can give u access to my super cool discord server - full of BG3 and DND nerds - where you will get the coveted "buzz's beta" role. please, shawty, i'm desperate!

if you are interested in doing this please shoot me a message, either here or over on discord (username: buzzbey#4141 [case sensitive!]).

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

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kth1fics · 1 year

Text

Lucky, Lucky Girl (M) | JJK

Lucky, Lucky Girl

⟶ Pairing: Jungkook x Female Reader ⟶ Genre: Roommates AU, Smut, 18+ ⟶ WC: 6.1k+ ⟶ Warnings: pwp, implied drunken state, alcohol, implied situationship, neck kisses, oral (m), making-out, choking, clit pinched once, fingering (f), finger sucking (f & m), palming (m), brief unprotected sex, etc ⟶ Beta: @jeonjcngkook // thank you so much for dealing with my massive short time frames :( i love you, sav ⟶ Summary: The joy of Jungkook having a grand ol’ time with his own personal karaoke night causes you, his roommate, to grow more and more annoyed. ⟶ Author’s Note: Mmm, yeah. Jungkook’s back to back Weverse lives – how ‘bout that? ⟶ Song Recommendation: Unholy ft Kim Petras by Sam Smith

Masterlist ◈ Mail Box ◈ AO3 ◈ Ko-Fi

“Dirty, dirty boy!”

“Not again…” you sigh. Blinking stunned as your head rests against the fluff of your pillow.

“You know everyone is talking on the scene!”

You try not to listen intently. But with the dead of the night, where no sounds are supposed to be made, you cannot help but hear every single breathy note your roommate sings. Voice amplified with the help of an expensive karaoke microphone, synced with the slight off-tune beats that play on the device in the living room.

“I hear them whispering ‘bout the places that you’ve been!”

Your brows furrow with remorse as your hands come to clamp over your ears. Why had you thought many moons ago that buying him this damn machine would be such a lovely gift? You thought he could never do such a thing like this. Singing hours on end into the middle of the night, by himself, was never a thought that crossed your mind when you purchased your roommate a wireless karaoke machine for his birthday.

Tonight is the first time you truly regret your choice of gift giving.

“And how you don’t know how to keep your business clean!”

��Jungkook!” You shout out in agony. Hoping the man hears you through the walls of your shared apartment complex. Belching out a stern yell should surely remind him of your earlier request. “I told you two hours ago to keep it down!”

To your own judgment, you realize that Jungkook either must have not heard you or chooses to ignore you as his voice continues to sing the pop-ish, R&B song Unholy.

“Mummy don’t know –”

“Jungkook, I swear to God!”

You stand up from your bed, tossing your blankets and pillows elsewhere as you stomp toward your closed door with haste. The twist of the knob is loud as your anger seeps into your actions, the swing of your door is just as abrupt. Your feet take you directly to the living room, padding down the hallway until blinking lights from the television shine in your eyes. Empty beer cans decorate the coffee table, some even knocked over and most definitely leaving stains on the wooden top. A bowl of snacks rests nearly untouched, but the ceramic maroon plate does have leftover crumbs of a breaded food.

Jungkook is found lounging back into the couch, microphone dangling above his head as he sings into it. Black luscious and fluffy locks, that barely touch shoulder length, fall beautifully with the way his head tilts onto the back of the couch. Dark clothes suit him best, probably because you’ve hardly ever seen him wear any other shade. You can tell just by the choice of shirt and long pants that he’s done nothing but wear the most comfortable attire for his karaoke night.

His eyes must be tired considering he wears his glasses, but underneath you can see how his eyes remain close as he gushes the lyrics like it’s his job. Knowing them word for word and with the perfect tone and tune.

“Two hours!” You yell, making your position in the living room more noticeable. You stand between the television and him, anger fuming within you. Steam could fly out your ears if that were possible. “Two damn hours and you’re still singing!”

You’re matched with a puzzled look when Jungkook finally opens his eyes. He peers down between the glass of his eyewear, trying to understand if you’re really in front of him or if he’s imagining it. The song continues to play as Jungkook lacks reciting the rest of the lyrics, you’re not sure if you could handle hearing him sing it for a third time this evening.

“What?” His lips pout as his nose scrunches and you wish to wipe the undeniable cuteness from it. He knows he can get away with such a gesture. “What happened?”

“I asked you two hours ago,” you sigh, stress pouring off of your face. He’s taken your sleep and little bit of patience left of your day. You can physically feel yourself building up to explode completely. “Please, stop it. Or at least do something else. Less noisy, preferably.”

Jungkook does nothing but smirk. The microphone falls from his hand to the cushion of the couch as he leans up in a better seating position, but chooses to bob his head to the beat of the song. Moving his arms just like how the dance goes in the music video. He mumbles the lyrics to himself as the song is finishing up, dragging his pointer finger down from his forehead to his lips as he purposely, and most definitely, taunts you with his absence of attention. Preferring to rock out to the rest of the song, on his own agenda as he turns a deaf ear to you once more. There’s no way he is completely obliterated right now, you’ve seen that side of him more than once – he’s a complete mess when it happens. But here, right now, you know Jungkook is drunkenly tilting on a tipsy seesaw. Well aware of his actions.

“Are you serious?”

He bellows a laugh, eyes crinkling in the corners with happiness as he feeds off of your agitated energy. “I’m bored. This is entertaining me,” he points to the television and microphone. “I’m quite good at it.”

“Jungkook, it’s been hours,” you drawl as you feel the emotions of your anger prick at your eyes. Your chest rises and falls with a heavy exhale, if only he could comprehend how fatigued you are. “You’re lucky we don’t have neighbors because the police would have been knocking on our front door by now.”

“Come and join me,” he insists as he reaches for a thick glass. It’s the one he keeps in the freezer; the mechanism inside the walls of the cup keeps the liquid it holds cold for longer. “I have a whole other pack in the fridge or there’s liquor in the cupboard if you prefer that instead.”

“No!” You scoff, “That’s not what I want. How are you so awake right now?”

Jungkook raises his beer with an expectant look to his face, raising an eyebrow for you to catch the hint. “Alcohol keeps me up longer,” he says with a gleaming smile. “How are you ‘so awake’?” He parrots your words before he takes a large sip of his chilled beer. Enjoying the taste that rolls across his tongue and down his throat.

“You!” you exhale with a growl. A warning if anything. The word comes off like acid, meant to burn and brand the man sitting in front of you.

It doesn’t phase him how you wish it could. Your roommate just sits there minding his own business as he grabs the remote to shuffle through the next list of songs. Seeking to add another reason that will make you even more mad.

“Rainism? Do I Wanna Know? How about some Bieber?”

Even with your body covering up a portion of the screen, he still manages to know the layout and how to direct the cursor around. You can hear the annoying dings of movement as he flicks through the options, the soft sounds escalating louder the more you concentrate and focus on them. Giving those noises more energy than they originate. Just like how one watches a clock tick it's seconds away and the clicking snaps closer to an unavoidable thunderous tone.

With all your vexation boiling, your irritation allows you to act impulsively. Your fingers find the on/off switch to the television immediately, clicking it off to a blank screen. Jungkook scrambles to find the correct remote device to turn it back on, but you’re quicker than that. Smarter than that. To stop any further attempts, you even go all the way to unplugging the devices from the outlet directly attached to the wall.

“Y/n!” Jungkook whines. He exaggerates further with a click of his tongue to the roof of his mouth.

“No!” You cut him off, “I have had enough.”

You stand your ground. This is a shared apartment after all but Jungkook should respect the decency of a good night's rest. Just because he didn’t have a day like you did doesn’t mean he forgets to consider how you may feel with his actions. Usually he’s very good, half the time he’s always out with friends or work. So an occurrence like this is far beyond rare. But you can’t excuse him for spending hours into the dead of night keeping it alive with loud music and his melodic voice.

Just as you feel like you’ve once, the taste of victory on the tip of your tongue, you immediately pull back when you see Jungkook stand from the couch. The gesture isn’t casual, it’s fast. Like lightning, he has jolted from his place and speeds toward you.

To catch you and trap you.

“Come here!” He shouts behind you with a giggle as he chases you back down the hall. You race toward your room, hoping to shut him out quickly.

You’ve stirred the pot by cutting his fun short and you should know Jungkook sees your anger as cute. But there is no time for foolish playful antics. You desperately want to rest, knock out and sleep in.

“Go to bed!” You shout over your shoulder. When your eyes catch a glance of how close he’s gotten to you, the strike of panic screams throughout your entire body. Even a yelp escapes your throat involuntarily.

His hand grips on the back of your shirt just as he pulls you like a fish on a wire. It’s quick, but somehow Jungkook manages to yank you straight into his hard frame before he pins you against the hallway wall. Right next to your bedroom door.

“Ow!” You hurt from the way one of your elbows bangs against the drywall behind you. You push back on Jungkook’s hands, fighting his dominance as he attempts to hold your arms back.

Unconsciously, Jungkook leans in with each word he speaks, smiling to himself as his teeth snag onto the lip ring adorning his right bottom lip. “I’m not sorry.” Something switches within him. Eyes now peering down at your parted lips, two desirable colored pieces of flesh, he blinks silently with no other words. Jungkook finds himself stuck staring at them, how they’re parted so pretty by the gasp that leaves your lips.

You can feel the radiation of his heated gaze; a burning sensation that you cannot tell is fueled by rage or something else. The sudden fiery ambiance Jungkook’s body and demeanor gives off is enough to set a forest ablaze. Smothering, scorching. The intensity of his concentrated stare heats you up from within, a prickling spark that shouldn’t be tampered with.

“J-Jungkook?” You blink, heartbeat running laps in your chest. Your mind runs rampage like gazelles in the wild. Expanding to new, dangerous horizons. “This is bad.” The hairs on the back of your neck stand tall as a shiver runs down the base of your spine.

“Why does bad sound so good?” His warm breath fans over your ear, forcing goosebumps to dance across your skin. Jungkook slides himself closer, confessing his body to feel something more as he slithers his arms around your back as he presses you against the wall. “Can you explain that?”

“Jungkook, you’re drunk.” You try to reason with him. Maybe he isn’t in his right state of mind. You recall the lingering beer cans in the living room, surely he’s been the only one drinking them.

Or are you trying to reason with yourself?

You’re really trying to not take advantage of this situation – one you didn’t foresee yourself getting into. Because you honestly just wished for peace and quiet. This happens only once in a while. Something neither one of you are proud about. There’s been talks, endless rambling and a vicious cycle of repetitive excuses. It’s not wise to ‘fuck around and find out’ with a roommate who need to hold their own, pay for their own expenses and be responsible. If someone gets too comfortable… they could be caught slipping. Forgetting all of these rules and abusing the privilege of the other to take care of them.

Neither one of you want that. The two of you are far too comfortable being sturdy with your own ‘singleness’. The idea of stripping that freedom from you makes you cringe.

But you cannot deny that ready feeling, random spark of desire, whenever Jungkook gives you that certain look. Perhaps it’s because you have tasted what he offers. How it still can creep up and remind you how delicious he is when you’re craving that flavor.

“I’m not drunk. I'm loose. There’s a difference.” Huffing a laugh, he tickles the shell of your ear with his breath. “If you want me to go to bed so badly, bring me to yours.” Jungkook’s nose nudges along the length of your neck, drinking in the faint smell of you. “I can’t promise I’ll stay quiet though.”

His hands are warm as you feel them press against your back, hugging you tight against him. You gulp as memories flash across your brain like an old film reel. Only the best moments blasting loud in your mind, reminding you of times before. How it felt. How he is with you.

Your hands balled into fists with your temptations playing in the front of your mind. All thoughts, rational or not, dissipate as you feel the slightest touch of Jungkook’s lips stoking the skin of your neck, skimming over the areas that make you swoon. You can’t blame the tiredness you once felt now diminish and grow with glimmers of excitement. Burning like a wick.

“We can’t do this again,” you remind him as your voice falters to a mouse-like whisper.

“So this will be the last time,” Jungkook grinds his pelvis into you, pulling you against him in the same motion. You feel it, the evidence of his cock hardened and ready to press into you. “We can fuck around one more time,” he kisses your neck with delicacy, “And we’ll never have to talk about it again.”

“Was this your plan all along?” You push your chest into him for emphasis. “Annoy me so you could do this?”

“Hasn’t it always been like this?” He chuckles with his deep voice seeping out. “I’m a lot to handle and you get fed up with it. In return I shut you up.”

Jungkook doesn’t hesitate with his next move, slotting his leg between yours as he pins you against the wall. He latches his mouth onto your neck as his hands roam your body, squeezing every muscle and curve he can reach. He releases one of your hands in favor of raising one of your legs around his waist, using the angle to pin you even more.

You move quickly with the freedom of your one limb, running your hand straight to the back of Jungkook’s black thick hair and gripping a fist full. “You’re so obnoxious,” you squeal as he retaliates with a bite to your neck. Teeth nipping harder than you expect, drawing soreness to the spot the moment he releases your skin.

He leans his head back enough to look at your face, a smug grin dressing his face as his fringe hides his glasses that protect his eyes. Jungkook doesn’t look into your eyes, he’s already mapping out his plan of assault with his mouth as he leers at your lips again. He pulls your leg higher as he moves in, hungrily kissing you with deep passion and thirst. You pull him equally with the back of his neck, yanking him forward to battle his tongue with yours.

An audible growl rumbles through Jungkook’s chest. Euphoric exhilarations trickle all over your skin. Jungkook’s reckless need to touch every inch of you sets a subtle ache in your core, growing it each passing second. Kisses become rougher, more desperate, as you share air between another. His touch burns you in the most errotic way, but you’ll never admit that to his face.

Jungkook continues to pull your leg into him just so he can angle his pelvis into you, prodding his clothed covered cock between the junction of your thighs. Teasing a blissful promise to you, letting you know how he wants to dive right into your walls and stretch you open. Your hand rummages through his roots, your other still pinned against the wall with Jungkook’s.

“Bed,” he murmurs against your wet lips.

He sucks on your tongue before letting his teeth scrap softly against it as he pulls back. His body with yours, you two fumble through your bedroom doorway and land straight onto your mattress.

You’re not normally stripping off your clothes this fast, but with Jungkook it’s different. Everything is impulsive and needy. There are no thoughts, only consequences and actions. The darkness shrouds the two of you, giving you more courage to do things without thought. Whereas Jungkook has already got a bit of liquid courage yet he is very self-aware of what he’s doing right now. You pull Jungkook down with you, a new instinct – a drive – taking hold of you.

His knees dig into the bed as Jungkook lifts his shirt over and off his body after removing yours. Jungkook’s muscles flex over another in the motion of his arms pulling the material up, revealing more of his toned, tanned, and inked skin to your eyes. A sight you secretly miss seeing. His body is just as you remembered; well-defined pectorals, large bulking biceps, a rippling line of tight abdominal muscles that tighten over his stomach, even the deadly outline of a v-line dipping dangerously below the hem of his pants.

It takes you a moment to recollect yourself from gawking at him. Eyes wide like saucers, trying to etch every single detail of his body so you can think of him later when you’re left with just a battery operated toy between your legs. Numberless lines of art, mainly black but some pretty colors too, decorate the entire expanse of his right arm. Shoulder all the way to the digits of his hand. His physique is well-kept, you know this man must take care of himself. Each edge, each angle of his compliments Jungkook perfectly. You couldn’t imagine him any different.

Jungkook catches your eyes, implicitly feeding into his ego. He smirks that annoying, nearly cocky, smile that flashes his white teeth as his dark locks dangle in front of his face. He disposes his glasses to a nearby table, out of the way of any reckless behavior.

His eyes roam your figure, areas of skin he wants to touch and violate if you give him the chance.

“You’re right, you know.” You hear him mumble as his hands aimlessly glide across your front, running themselves over your chest before they cup each of your breasts. He experiments with the tender flesh of your tits, squeezing and releasing them with his control. “This is bad. It’s dangerous how much I think about fucking you. Then you let me do it,” he laughs. His tattooed arm raises as his hand runs through his hair, fingering the dark strands and curling a few behind his ear.

He drags his other hand down his front, making sure you watch each tentative movement as he runs his fingers over his body in front of you. They tantalize you, spellbind you into watching every second as he descends down to his lower region. Cuffing his bulge over the loose dark material of his pants and applying pressure to relieve some tension. He grips the sides of his cock, outlining the length as he runs the length of his shaft.

Jungkook’s tongue swipes out to lick his lips before sucking the bottom one in, snagging that sexy lip ring in between his teeth as he softly jerks himself through his clothes. His eyes, hooded and laced with dangerous lust, stare down at yours. The most subtle, audible, groan escapes through his teeth and you swear you lost every last ounce of sanity you have left for the night. Your cunt clenches with eagerness as the sound, as whiny and beautiful it sounds coming from him, hits your core like a train on impact. What you would do for more of those sounds…

Jungkook repeats the process right in front of your very eyes, gradually fisting himself even more until he can’t handle it much more himself.

“Holy shit –” you speak breathlessly. Unable to fathom the scene being played out. You lean up with a surge, a power within you of wanting to please this man. Hands gripping the sides of his dainty waist, right where his hip bones poke out, and you run your nails over them in your pursuit to free his cock. “Get naked too,” you command as you hook your fingers around his waistband.

Your fervor is impressive, making you feel like you’re doing justice while you’re truly doing something unholy. You drag his pants down his thighs, watching the way his cock springs out with happiness. The shine over his dripping cockhead welcomes you, affirms to you how stressed it must be to be touched by you. Aching to be pleased. His girth always makes you coyly smile; he radiates such energy, of course he has a package to match it.

Jungkook is solid, cock pulsing by your touch. Just palming him alone makes your core tighten, makes the dirty mind of yours wander further into the abyss of sultry. You can feel yourself leaking arousal on yourself.

“You gonna put those pretty lips around me?” You feel the way Jungkook’s fingers curl around your jaw to tilt your head toward him. His thumb runs across your lips, slowly slotting itself between them and pushing past your teeth.

With pleading eyes, you blink and nod at him. You suck on his thumb to show him what he has to look forward to, what you’re about to give him. You’re ready to do whatever it takes to make this man moan.

Your fist grips Jungkook’s dick, cautiously squeezing him as you flick your wrist up and down. Moving your body, you level your head to his pelvis after his release of your jaw. You bend your back as sexy as you imagine it can look as you keep your ass hoisted high. Leaning in, you plant a sweet kiss to his swollen tip, tasting the first moments of his salty secretions. It’s the first indication of Jungkook losing his breath as you hear a shuttered exhale.

You need more.

Your tongue lavished over the slit of his cockhead, parting the small piece to lap up every piece of precum that dares to drip carelessly from him.

“Fuck,” you hear the narrow whisper from above. His nose blows out a puff of hot air.

You ease your head down, immersing yourself on his rock hard cock. Tasting the flavor of his skin on your tongue as you wet the entire length with your saliva. Your lips tighten around him as you dip your head, bopping it down and up teasingly, wanting to taste every desirable inch of his blessed cock. You swivel and twist your tongue underneath as you suck, hard. Taking initiative to stroke what you can’t fit comfortably… for now.

“Fuck, Y/n!” Jungkook groans with an open mouth. Jaw slacking as his hips softly roll with the pace you set. You feel his hand skirt around your head, pulling pieces of your hair so he can view the way your cheeks hollow around him. “Fuck, yes. Just like that,” he hums with a tender whine. “You do it so fuckin’ well.”

Jungkook continues to whisper praises as his hips beg to thrust harder. Words of motivation help carry you to continue bobbing your head along his shaft, wanting him in deeper. So far enough to take your breath completely away from you. Your muffle moans vibrate on his cock, you can feel it twitch from time to time.

“Yeah, yeah…”

And now you hear Jungkook’s voice transition from his normal tone to that melodic tune. The one where you can hear it laced in whenever he sings his heart out. The noise you hear nearly all night long, agonizing you that it isn’t you who got those noises out from him. Until now. Where you suck harder, dip deeper to let his cock slot into your throat and stuff your mouth.

You fight all urges to gag, using every fiber in you to accept his length further past your comfort point. Pressing your nose against the soft plush of his public hairs as you melt into his pelvis, cock sliding as far as it can go into your esophagus.

Jungkook whines with satisfaction. Seeing how cock-hungry you are for him while this overwhelming pleasure sparks every heated nerve ending in his body. “You feel so fucking good,” his breath sounds labored. His fingers find a hold on the back of your head, clutching your hair tightly as he loses composure for a moment to thrust his hips into you.

“Mmf!” You resound a noise that only sounds dirty to him. Bear resemblance to a well pleased cockslut who wants nothing else but his dick. So he repeats the process again, and again… and again. Just to pull out those tasty groans as your nose is crammed against him and mouth prying wider to eat his cock.

Your eyes water at the onslaught, threatening to break past the brims of your eyes. Throat becomes coarse, abused with the intrusion that continues to batter your mouth. It’s relentless, but both you and Jungkook are hooked on the feelings you’re receiving from such an act. A single string of saliva connects your mouth to his throbbing cock when he abruptly pulls you from him, twisting your head to see how fucked-out your face looks.

It’s when you’re able to look up at him as well, seeing the way his brows furrowed as he pays close attention to you. Cheeks moving with the huffs of air he releases from his mouth. Beautiful large brown eyes taken over by his blown out pupils. The hair that hangs off his head makes you want to pull, rake your nails through and comb them. Fist it and twist it.

“Flip over,” he requests while already pulling you with him. His hands manhandle you respectfully, letting your body to turn around and rest on all fours. “So wet already,” he comments as his palms spread open your asschecks, giving him the view of everything from between your cheeks to your gorgeous pussy lips. The sheen of your arousal already slips past your vulva and dresses your inner thighs. “So pretty,” Jungkook collects some with two of his fingers, rolling the slippery mess between his digits before letting the tip of his tongue taste it. “So tasty.”

You edge your ass closer to him as he ghosts his fingers between your thighs. Slide them along the expanse of them before touching your soaked lips.

“Want you to fuck me,” you bend forward, placing your head against the mattress as your arms stretch above you to anchor yourself in place. “I warmed you up good enough. I want you to put that cock in me,” you wiggle your ass in his view. “I’m ready for you, Jungkook. Don’t you see that?”

He breathlessly laughs, astonished how easy it is for you to be so confident. So prepared to have Jungkook do what he wants. He glides his index finger though your folds, spreading your slickness across all surfaces before hovering over your entrance. Sliding that same finger in, he instantly curls it up against the ridge wall that hides your sensitive spot.

A mewl rips from your throat but you bury your mouth into your blankets below you. You feel the way your pussy eats up Jungkook’s finger, you can’t imagine how it’ll be when he sticks his cock in. Your body wants to lean back more, feel how deep his finger could go if he allows it. But Jungkook denies you that pleasure by pulling away.

“God, I want to fuck you so bad right now. I don’t care to tease right now.”

Static courses though the atmosphere. Your bedroom which serves as a resting comfort place now feels like inside an oven, heated and blazing with lustful passion.

This is exactly what Jungkook wants. Did he expect his plan to work completely? Absolutely not. Countless times he purposely does things just to get a reaction out of you, to see if you give him that energy. Just to mess with you.

Does that always lead to this? No.

Has it happened before though? Yes.

Jungkook maneuvers himself enough to skim his dick along the folds of your sopping pussy. Slowly dipping his tip into the gates of your entrance, easing it in little by little. You feel your legs widen further as he stretches you, until you’re biting back your words. Jungkook hardly submerges his cockhead before you jump up, twisting away from him with a frantic hand out.

“Whoah, wait!” You don’t notice the way your fingers shake with adrenaline as you stare at Jungkook in shock. “We need a condom!”

You could kick yourself for being so stupid, drunk on a lust haze and barely forgetting the fact you always stay protected. Never wanting an accident to happen with anyone who comes between your legs. Even Jungkook.

You’re stunned momentarily as you drink in the sight of Jungkook kneeling behind you. His hand holding the base of his cock as he holds it angled for your pussy while the other grips your hip. His abdomen tightening from the anticipation while his biceps flex as he holds back his body. Lazily, his eyes meet yours after staring down at your ass in a trance for far too long. A pout follows his frown until he catches how deep in thought he's in. Not realizing how hot and heavy the two of you acted.

“Shit, yeah. Do you have one here?”

You nod, reaching for a box under your bed quickly to pull out a small box of condoms. Jungkook happily takes one from your hand, tearing into the foil quickly and applying the rubber over his cock. He pinches the tip after slinking the condom down his shaft, pulling the elastic slightly to make it more comfortable for his member.

He glances at you, flashing you a bright smile that’s hidden with mischief. He grabs hold of your hips again and pulls you back to him, forcing you back down in an arch once again and prepares himself behind you.

“The condom just makes me fuck you harder,” he alerts as he’s pressing into you. His cockhead slips through your lips and begins dragging against your walls. A throaty groan erupts from your throat, entangled by pure blissful pleasure as Jungkook spears you open. “Makes me last longer.”

“Good,” you bark back with a smile only you can tell you wear. Your face shoves itself into your blankets as you feel Jungkook fill you up, rocking into you as you buck your hips back. His girth stretches you out in the most rewarding ways possible, making that slight stinging pain feel glorious and well deserving. “Fuck me hard then.”

Jungkook’s head swims with all the carnal desire built up. Once his other hand grips the other side of your hips you are done for. His grip is tight, desperate to keep hold of you as you squirm with his new pace. He thrusts into you, reeling you back into him with each swift movement of his hips. Sinking his cock as deep into your pussy as possible, drawing out those delicious squelching noises.

His strides speed up as the sounds of skin slapping skin gets louder. It twists your insides in a good way. Gaining a praising squeal from you as a burning coil in your abdomen tightens dangerously. Jungkook ravages his advantage on you, mounting you from behind and having ultimate control of your body. His cock slips out from the warm wetness of your cunt only to fill it aggressively back up.

Your nails pull at the blankets under you as your teeth bite into your bottom lip, breaking the plush skin.

“Ah! Yes!” You moan, pussy throbbing with excitement as Jungkook pushes you closer to a release. “Fuck – Harder!”

You beg him to rail you more. Want to feel the way he pushes you over the edge. Jungkook’s chest heaves with labor, his voice turns more whiney and groany.

Calloused and tattooed fingers snake their way up your back to your neck, slipping them around the front and hoisting you up. Jungkook drags you against him, forcing your body upright as his hips continue to slap into your backside. The angle creates new bliss, prodding harshly against a sensitive area of your walls. Steadily, Jungkook hardens his grip around your neck. Applying pressure to limit your breath.

“Aren’t you lucky?” Jungkook embeds his head in the crook of your neck, mouth sucking sharply on your skin. He lets out vocal grunts as he continues to slam into you while his other hand seeks your front. Slipping down between your thighs to toy and rub circles against your engorged clit. “Getting fucked so hard, you’ll have no problem sleeping after this.”

Your moan rings through Jungkook’s ears as your cunt spasms and convulses around his spearing cock. His new position sends you into a frenzy. Orgasm after orgasm hits you, exploding within your heated body as Jungkook’s fingers and cock ruthlessly abuse your pussy. You cry with joy, a shaky breath whispering his name like a mantra as you gasp for air.

Jungkook continues to roll his hips into you from behind, pushing you past the point of your initial release and sending you into overdrive. He pinches your clit to hear you shriek, charging his ego and exciting his senses. He’s cruel, really, to latch his teeth onto your neck as grunted breaths escape his nose as he forces himself in you. But it’s so undeniably hot as he does it.

It pushes Jungkook toward his release, cracking down his walls and busting open the floodgates as he shoots warm, white cum into the tip of his condom. Cock nudged all the way in your pussy walls as he stills, groaning with words of how good you feel around him. Your panting bodies freeze together; still kneeling and heaving like you’ve run a marathon.

Your pussy convulses as aftershocks of your orgasm vibrates around Jungkook’s lodged cock, flexing and unflexing until he slowly pulls out of you. You miss it, the feeling of him filling your walls. Now they’re left bare, empty with nothing touching them.

You want to rest your body against his, but you know you can’t. It’s not a good decision to do more damage than what has already been caused. Maybe it’s the tenderness of your beating heart that still swarms with warmth after intimacy. Although you must always shake those feelings especially when it comes to your roommate. Who has nothing to do with you on a relationship level. And only once in a while the two of you slip up and fuck your frustrations out.

Jungkook moves first which surprises you. His lean figure has no problem pushing you back down to the bed after removing both his hands from you. He flops beside you and focuses on pulling off the condom from his softening cock without spilling its contents. He ties a knot at the opening before dropping it to the floor, not caring where exactly it lands.

The bed feels plush and heavenly against your face. The cool of your blankets chill you off yet welcome you with open arms. You stare at Jungkook as your heartbeat fails to relax. Portions of his bangs stick to his forehead from the sheen of sweat that decorates it. He breathes in the cool air with his eyes closed, catching his breath as he levels his body.

“We can’t do this again,” you remind him. Slumber knocks at your front door, reminding you how tired you are. “It’ll cause problems.”

“It’s already a problem,” he groans. He doesn’t bother looking at the scowl on your face. He knows it’s there. “It’s an addictive problem.”

Aimlessly, Jungkook reaches for a portion of the blanket from under him. He brings it over him enough to tuck himself comfortably in your bed. You even fight over it with him, telling him to go to his own bed if he’s tired. Though, he doesn’t listen. He’s selective once again. Knowing that he can get away with getting under your skin. Enjoying the way you get agitated how all he needs to do is wrap his arm around your body, filling you with his warm embrace – and you cave in.

Moodboard credit: @kth1

#lucky lucky girl #kth1fics #bangtansorciere #thebtswritersclub #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook pwp #jungkook imagines #jungkook drabble #jungkook one shot #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x you #jungkook fic #jungkook au #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts pwp

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theywhowriteandknowthings · 1 month

Text

Boyfriend!Simon “Ghost” Riley x afab!reader Smutty (sweet) Drabble.

A/N: this has been rolling around in my head for weeks and it finally came together. Possessive Simon full one shot is on its way too. (Price is lingering in my periphery too 👀) enjoy!

NSFW under the cut: unprotected PiV (wrap it up folks) Public Sex, bathroom sex, degrading language, sweet!Simon. No use of Y/N, no physical descriptions of reader other than having a vagina, Simon can lift reader (but who *can’t* he lift?)

[AO3] CoD Masterlist

Boyfriend!Simon who has been out of the country for for two weeks, desperate to see you.

Boyfriend!Simon forgetting you promised to introduce him to your friends tonight, trying not to sulk as he desperately wanted to spend the weekend with you, confined to your shared bedroom.

Boyfriend!Simon promising you it’s ok, he wants to meet your friends. It’s important to you and nothing is more important than making you happy.

Boyfriend!Simon who can’t stop touching you under the table while your friends babble on about some reality show neither of you can stand. You’ve both been tuned out of the conversation for over an hour, so you welcome the distraction.

Boyfriend!Simon who inches his fingers up to the gusset of your panties, but stops just there so you clench your jaw (and cunt) in frustration as he edges your brains out.

Boyfriend!Simon who is grateful your friends didn’t even comment on his face mask when he turned up at the bar. Otherwise, they would be asking what’s so funny as he grins madly at the way you clamp your thighs around his hand in a desperate plea to either stop or touch you properly already.

Boyfriend!Simon who finally retreats his hand, only to place it on the back of your neck. Squeezing firmly, fingertips and thumb massaging gently either side of your neck as he brushes his knee against yours.

Boyfriend!Simon who excuses himself to the bathroom, eyes shining with mischief as he winks at you. Your friends immediately grill you over the brick-shit house of a man. Where did you meet? How fucking tall is he? Is it proportional?

Boyfriend!Simon who sends you a text from the bathroom, an image attached. You excuse yourself to the bathroom, opening it only when you lock the stall door behind you.

Boyfriend!Simon who’s cock is leaking precome as he pulls his foreskin back to reveal the swollen tip as he snaps a picture in the bathroom. He chuckles as he hears the bathroom door from across the way open and close.

Boyfriend!Simon who hears the bathroom door open once more, before you’re storming into the gents. Shouting at the drunk lad at the urinal to hurry the fuck up and get out. He kicks the stall door open, shit-eating grin plastered on his now-uncovered face as you lock it behind you as you slip inside.

Boyfriend!Simon who lifts you up in his strong arms, pinning you against the stall wall as he pulls the gusset of your panties aside. His throbbing tip notches at your core as you tremble in his grasp. “Such a naughty girl,” he purrs as he pushes past your slick entrance, filling you to the brim with a low grunt.

Boyfriend!Simon who taunts you throughout, degrading you with every snap of his hips. “So needy. So desperate. My little slut.” His grip on your jaw hard enough to bruise as he turns your head to the side, “You like it, don’t you? Getting fucked like a whore in a bathroom stall like this?”

Boyfriend!Simon who nips your jaw in self-satisfied triumph as all you can do is mewl and nod as he builds you up to your release. “Touch yourself,” he commands as he starts fucking you in earnest. The fixtures and latch of the stall jangling loud in the small space as he forgoes any sense of stealth.

Boyfriend!Simon who comes with a groan of your name as he empties deep inside you, riding the high of your cunt clenching hard around him as you come, milking him dry.

Boyfriend!Simon who sets you down on the toilet, soothing your hair as he encourages you to pee, praising you for how well you took him. Promising to get you in a hot bath, and order takeout when you get home.

Boyfriend!Simon telling you he loves you, and you smiling up at him, head fuzzy and warm in post orgasmic bliss. You say it back, falling into his arms as you feel his spend leaking into your panties.

Boyfriend!Simon who endures the rest of the night, feral over knowing your panties are soaked with the evidence of your debauched behaviour, but managed to behave himself. Just.

Boyfriend!Simon who promises your friends to do this again sometime, but he needs to get you home. You’re exhausted and need some rest.

Boyfriend!Simon that doesn’t let you leave bed for the next few days, except to shower and relieve yourself in between fucking, cuddling, and binge watching that new series you’ve been waiting to watch together.

Boyfriend!Simon letting you fall asleep against his chest as he sits at an awkward angle against the pillows. Even though he knows his back is going to suffer from sleeping like this. But he doesn’t mind, time with you like this is fleeting, and he’ll be damned if he fucks this up.

Boyfriend!Simon who doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve you, but he’ll move heaven and earth if it means having more moments like this with you.

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waywardxrhea · 2 months

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My Consequence - a Sam Winchester one shot

pairing: Sam Winchester x fem!hunter!reader (no use of y/n)

word count: 5.7k

"when you spill your guts they don't go back in...if I bleed too much it's my consequence..." - hey violet, my consequence

One thing leads to another after a hunt and you end up spilling your guts to the man you've been pining after for years.

content: 18+ minors DNI! sleep deprivation, show accurate violence on a hunt, blood, language, humor, fluff, light angst, smut (PWP but it's a lot more plot whoops, making out, grinding, unprotected sex)

(not my gif)

You sat at the desk in the Men of Letters bunker one morning, your tired eyes trying to focus on the board that could show a litany of cases that need to be worked, and boy had you and the boys been working on them. You had barely gotten but four hours of sleep over the past week, maybe, because you couldn’t sleep at night knowing how many people out there could be suffering without your help. Sam and Dean didn’t know it, but you had been sneaking out at night to work the nearby cases by yourself and then getting a nap in before getting woken up to do it all over again. Needless to say, you were exhausted.

“You find anything?” Sam asked as he made his way into the room, a cup of coffee in his hand.

“Hey you didn’t get me any?” you asked teasingly when you saw the cup in his hand. Sam was about to offer to go make you a cup when your eyes flickered to a part of the screen as you found a case about an hour away. “Hey I found something.”

“What is it?” he asked, wandering over in your direction.

“It’s sounding like a ghoul. There’s a report of this family seeing someone who looks uncannily like their long time neighbor who passed away a few weeks ago. I’m not seeing any suspicious activity in the town so far but I think it’s worth looking into.”

“Good eye, I’ll get Dean,” he told you.

While he said this, Dean came into the room and said, “No can do, I’ve been asked to get rid of a vengeful ghost for a friend of a friend. I’m about to head out. You kids are on your own.”

“Okay, yeah, it’s nothing we can’t handle,” Sam said with a nod, sure of your abilities as a team, not knowing that you were operating on maybe a ten minute nap this morning.

“Sounds like a plan,” you said, getting up from your chair and starting to make your way to your room to get changed and gather some supplies you had stored away there.

After an hour's drive consisting of you consulting your parents’ old hunting journal for tips of how to take down ghouls, the pair of you arrived in the small neighborhood that had popped up on the map in the bunker. You straightened out your blouse as you got out of the car, trying to make it look perfect before the pair of you walked up to the reporting neighbor’s door. Sam noticed and chuckled as he told you, “You look great, don’t worry about it.”

This compliment ignited a slight blush on your cheeks that you hid as you leaned down into the trunk to grab your FBI badges. When you regained your composure you stood up straight and told him, “Thank you, you look great too. Very professional.”

Sam smiled at the compliment before straightening his tie and heading up the sidewalk in front of you. When you reached the front door, Sam knocked gently and waited for an answer. After a few seconds the inner door swung open to reveal a disheveled middle aged woman with a child on her hip. The two of you flashed your badges before Sam started with, “Ma’am, we’re with the FBI and heard about some strange occurrences going on around here. I was just wondering if we could come in.”

A sense of relief seemed to flood the woman’s body and she quickly ushered the two of you in, checking the coast behind you before closing the door. When you all sat down in the kitchen, the child playing quietly on the floor, the woman paced as she said, “Oh thank God you two are here. I’ve been telling the sheriffs office about Dan for a few days but they keep calling me crazy! They’re telling me that I’m just so used to seeing him that my brain is playing tricks on me, but I know that I’ve seen him!”

“Can you tell me more about this Dan person?” you asked.

“What do you want to know? I’ve known the man almost my whole life. He’s been my neighbor since my family moved here when I was five. A bit reclusive, but sweet nonetheless. He collected old war regalia, I swear his house was like a museum, it was so fun to explore growing up. He died about a month back, but I swear I saw him coming in and out of the back woods last weekend. I think I saw him again last night but… I haven’t been sleeping ever since that first time I saw him so maybe my mind is playing tricks on me…”

“I see,” you said while writing the details down in your own notebook. “Do you mind if I ask what kind of burial Dan had?”

The question shocked the woman as well as Sam so he quickly interjected with, “Sometimes reliving the experience can help with unpacking the mind if you’ve been overwhelmed. Maybe we can talk through it so we can address what’s possibly going on mentally.” Sam shot you a confused and concerned look out of the corner of his eye as the woman closed hers and massaged her temples. You were usually so sharp and cunning when it came to questioning witnesses, so with a slip-up like that Sam was starting to wonder what was going on with you…

When the woman finished rubbing her head, she opened her eyes and said, “Oh okay… well he had an open casket funeral in the park where he got married to his wife who passed away a few years ago. Not many people showed up except family and a few of us from the neighborhood.”

“Have you talked with anyone else in the neighborhood about these sightings? Perhaps anyone else who was at the funeral?” you asked.

“No, I haven’t left the house and a lot of them I don’t have their numbers to contact,” she replied. “The neighborhood isn’t as close as it used to be back in the day.”

“Do you mind if we talk with them to see if they’ve seen anything?” Sam asked.

“Be my guest,” she replied with a nod.

So you and Sam split up to talk with the other neighbors, keeping an eye on your surroundings for the man who was supposed to be dead. After about an hour, you and Sam met back up at the car to go over what you both knew.

“So two of the neighbors say that they don’t really pay attention to the woods but thought they might have heard something rustling around in them the other night,” you told him.

Sam rubbed the stubble on his chin as he said, “One I talked with told me that her son swears that he saw Dan heading toward the woods last night but she also said that she smelled weed and liquor on him when he told her so she didn’t believe him.”

“Well all clues say that if this is a ghoul he’s hiding in the woods so I guess we gear up and head into the belly of the beast,” you suggested as you opened the trunk and started grabbing weapons that could be useful: a couple of machetes as well as a shotgun just in case. If it was a ghoul you would need to destroy its head or decapitate it to kill it. Sam debated on asking you if you were feeling okay or if you needed to sit this one out but before he could you were already marching toward the woods, weapon on your hip.

As you headed into the woods, you lagged behind, your shorter legs unable to keep up with Sam as per usual. “Hold on, I’ve got little legs!” you said with a laugh as you jogged to catch up.

“Right, right. I forget how vertically challenged you are,” Sam said with a smirk.

“Or you’re just ridiculously tall,” you teased with a nudge to his ribs.

Teasing aside, Sam seemed to notice something so he put his hand up to signal for you to be quiet and you obliged, knowing that if Sam noticed something it was serious. As he inspected something hanging from the tree limb above, you heard a crack of branches in the nearby grove. Ready to attack at a moment’s notice, your hand went to the handle of your machete in case you needed to start swinging.

The next few seconds happened in a blur and you acted on instinct alone when you saw a figure barreling toward the pair of you, more specifically toward Sam’s turned back, brandishing an old Civil War type dagger. “Sam!” you shouted before jumping between the two men, swinging your machete at the ghoul, only to miss and drop your weapon as you doubled over onto the ground.

Sam reacted quickly once he heard you call out his name, grabbing the ghoul’s arm before he could get a hit in on him and quickly swinging his own machete at the monster, decapitating it with ease. When he started to fully take in the scene though, things began to move in slow motion. As he turned around to the last place he heard your voice he saw you clutching your abdomen and falling to the ground. His eyes went wide as he shouted your name in worry.

Once you hit the ground Sam was right there, holding you in his arms and listening to you say, “I’m fine, I’m fine,” as you attempted to get up.

Sam went to move the hair out of his eyes when he noticed that his hand that was previously on your abdomen was covered in blood. “I need to get you to the hospital,” he told you, trying to remain calm as he forced his voice to stay steady.

“It’s okay, I’ll be fine, nothing a few stitches back at the bunker can’t fix,” you said, the adrenaline pumping through your veins not letting you feel the pain fully just yet. You took the moment to try and stand again but couldn’t, so you looked down at your shirt that was starting to slowly soak through with dark red blood. “Oh…” you said quietly, voice barely above a whisper.

“I need to get you outta here…” Sam said again, taking off his jacket and wrapping it tightly around you before picking you up and starting to sprint back toward the car. As he reached the car, he shouted to a neighbor, “Where’s the nearest hospital?!”

“It’s about half an hour away, head east and you’ll see it as you’re heading into the city,” the man told him. He saw the blood on Sam’s hands and asked with wide eyes, “Do you want me to call an ambulance?”

Sam didn’t respond as he placed you in the passenger seat before sprinting to his side of the car and speeding off, trying to keep pressure on the wound as he drove. After a few minutes, he looked over and saw your eyes starting to flutter shut so he took his hand off the wound to squeeze your hand and told you, “Stay with me…”

“I’m here, I’m here,” you replied quietly, your voice starting to get weak as your breathing began to grow shallow. “I’m just really tired…”

“No, no, no, no,” he said quickly, “you stay with me. You stay awake okay? We’re almost there.” he told you while putting more pressure on the gas pedal, hoping to cut the trip in half at least.

“I’ll try,” you replied weakly.

“Here, let’s talk. Let’s talk about that band you like, what is it, Party at the Disco?”

You laughed wearily before correcting him, “Panic! At the Disco, Sammy.”

“And how’s that one song go that you’re always singing? The one about the doors?”

“I really need you to pay attention to my music from now on because those were horrible guesses,” you told him with a weak laugh once again. You paused for a moment before adding, “Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for always looking out for me,” you told him. “I know things haven’t always been the best between us but... You make my days brighter.”

“What- why are you talking like that?” he asked, his eyes momentarily leaving the road to glance at you.

“I’m losing a lot of blood Sammy, life isn’t guaranteed and you know it. I just wanted you to know how much I appreciate you,” you told him quietly. He could feel your hands and skin beginning to grow cold against his own as he held your hand.

“Don’t talk like that, don’t act like you’re saying goodbye. We’re almost to the hospital, you’re gonna make it through this,” he told you, his voice almost breaking at the thought of losing you. He saw the hospital in the distance and sped up impossibly faster, spotting the emergency room and heading in that direction.

Once he pulled in front of the building, he slammed the brakes of the car and sprinted over to your side, pulling you out of the seat and starting to carry you into the building. As he carried you in, you started to fade in and out of consciousness, whispering weakly, “I’m scared Sammy…”

“I know, but you’ll make it. I know you will,” he told you as he got you inside. The second you were inside, he shouted, “Help! She needs help!”

“Oh my God,” the nurse at the desk gasped with wide eyes, seeing the amount of blood that had soaked your shirt and bled onto Sam’s.

The nurse shouted for help and a group of people came sprinting over with a stretcher to get you back into a room. As Sam placed you on the stretcher, you looked up at him and felt like this could be your last shot to confess your feelings, so you whispered, “Thank you Sam. I love you…” before getting wheeled off to be worked on.

“Wait…!” he shouted after you as you were taken away. Did you just say what he thought you did?

He tried to follow the workers, but was held back by a couple of male nurses who told him, “They need room to work, please calm down sir!”

“But… I just… Shit…” he whispered, his body deflating as your words hitting him right in the heart.

“Can you tell us what happened?” one of the nurses asked.

Sam hesitated for a moment, shock taking over his body, but he eventually replied, “Occupational hazard. A perp went after her. Big gash on her abdomen. I got her here as fast as I could…” Did she just say she loved me? he thought to himself as he was escorted to a chair by the nurses.

“We’re going to do what we can to help her, I’ll keep you updated as we know more,” he told Sam before heading back to the floor to see your status.

Sam sat for a minute with his head in his hands before going out to move his car and call Dean. “Hey Sammy, what’s up? Did you get that ghoul taken care of?” came Dean’s voice through the phone. Sam couldn’t find the words he wanted to say and the silence bugged Dean so he asked, “Sam are you okay?”

“She got hurt. Badly, Dean,” he said quietly, his voice shaking.

“Well how bad is badly?” he asked, concern in his voice.

“God there was so much blood…” Sam whispered, looking down at one of his blood stained hands while shaking his head.

“Well, is she alive?! I need something more than things are bad!” Dean nearly shouted into the phone.

“Barely. By the time we got to the hospital she had almost passed out, she was pale, and I think she felt like she was gonna die…”

“Oh wow…” Dean replied quietly. “Where are you?”

“It’s fine Dean, take care of that ghost,” Sam told him, not really wanting company because he was still trying to process everything.

“The damn ghost can wait, I already trapped it. I can tell them to try and look for his possessions while I’m gone. I’m already getting in Baby,” Dean said and Sam could hear the impala roar to life. Once the noise level was suitable to hear over the phone again, he asked, “Have you tried contacting Cas?”

“I didn’t think about it,” Sam admitted quietly.

“Sam, we have an angel at our disposal who can heal with one touch and you didn’t think to call him when there’s a life-threatening injury on our hands?” Dean asked, a bit of frustration seeping into his voice.

“Everything happened so fast I just didn’t think about it,” Sam replied defensively. He let out a sigh before adding, “I’m at Woodcrest General on the outskirts of Hoover.”

“I’m on my way. You start praying to Cas and I’ll try his cell. Got it?”

“Got it,” Sam replied before hanging up the phone and heading back inside.

When he emerged back into the building, the nurse at the desk told him, “If you want a pair of scrubs and to clean off I can get you access to the shower room, Agent.”

“Oh, yeah, thanks,” Sam told her, really not wanting to be in his blood soaked clothes anymore. As the nurse took him to the shower room, he asked, “Are there any updates on her?“

“She was rushed down to the OR just now. The doctor said it doesn’t look like there’s too much internal damage, she just lost a lot of blood. She… she did lose consciousness right as transport was taking her down to the OR though.”

“Damnit…” Sam whispered, closing his eyes and sighing.

“It’ll be a little while before we have answers, I’m sorry. Maybe the shower will help calm you down a bit,” she told him as she let him into the room and showed him the cabinet with scrubs in it.

“Thanks,” he told her before she headed back out. Sam took his time with the shower, washing all the blood out from his skin and hair and taking a few minutes to just cry. How could he have let this happen? It’s always been his and Dean’s unspoken job to watch out for you and he failed… He should have stopped you from heading into those damn woods…

After he dried off and put some scrubs from the cabinet on, Sam closed his eyes and folded his hands as he began to pray. “Castiel. I know you’re probably busy, but I really need you." His voice broke as he whispered your name, telling the angel, "We were on a hunt and…and she was hurt badly and I’m not sure if this hospital has the ability to heal her. I know it’s a long shot and we shouldn’t use your grace so willy nilly, but… I can’t lose her… Amen.”

Freshened up, Sam made his way to the waiting area where he sat alone with his thoughts, occasionally praying to Cas again in hope that he would hear his call.

The time crawled by and felt like forever even though it was only a few hours before Sam heard, “Agent Williams?” coming from the same nurse from earlier.

Sam looked up with hope in his eyes and asked, “Yes ma’am?”

“She’s out of surgery now. I can take you to her room,” she said with a small smile.

“Thank you,” he told her, relief flooding his body.

While they walked together to the nearby elevators, she told him, “I don’t want to give you false hope, she isn’t out of the woods yet. The surgeon closed her up, but there may be complications. This hospital doesn’t usually see cases like Agent Hanna’s.”

“Oh…” Sam said, desperately hoping that Cas heard his prayers now.

“Don’t get me wrong, he’s a great surgeon, but he just doesn’t deal with severe injuries like hers on the regular. I don’t say that to scare you, but we just have to be realistic here. If she gets any worse we may have to transport her out to a bigger hospital.”

“Got it,” he replied as they reached the floor that you were on.

“Here’s her room. She’s still out of it and receiving blood right now,” the nurse told him as she opened the door to let him in.

“Thank you,” he told her with a nod before heading into the room. He took out his phone and texted Dean the floor and room number before pulling up a chair beside your bed. He took a moment to look at your still pale skin and grabbed your hand as he whispered, “I’m so sorry…”

After a few minutes, Sam closed his eyes and sent one last prayer Castiel’s way before he jumped when he heard a sharp knock on the door as it opened up. He looked up to see Dean and Cas coming into the room, looks of concern on their faces. “How is she?” Dean asked.

“I mean she’s alive… The nurse told me that there may be complications though and if she doesn’t get better soon they may have to ship her off to a bigger facility,” Sam replied quietly, looking at the monitor to watch your heart rate. After a few moments of silence, he told them, “She sacrificed herself to save me. That ghoul was coming at us quick and my back was turned so she jumped in. She barely got a swing in on it before it got her with a dagger.”

“Did you get the ghoul?” Cas asked.

“Yeah. But then I saw how much she was bleeding… God there was so much blood…” he whispered, his voice breaking. He cleared his throat before adding, “She seemed like she thought she was gonna die because before they took her back she told me that she loved me…”

Dean scoffed before muttering, “About damn time…”

“What does that mean?” Sam asked, his eyebrows furrowing together.

“Sam, you’re about as oblivious as a brick wall. That girl has loved you for years. She never told you because, well, you know how she is. She doesn’t like stepping on toes and would rather others be happy before she is so she let you get into all these relationships and faked being happy for you while she not so secretly drank away her pain.”

“I… I had no idea…” Sam whispered. All the times you had shown him what he thought was sisterly affection, the moments where you tried to make him laugh in his darkest moments, how you’ve stuck by his side through everything, all came flooding to him and he realized that even if it wasn’t obvious, he had started to develop feelings for you too.

“Well now you do and once she’s healed up you better make the most of it,” Dean told him.

“Why didn’t you say something before?” Sam asked, feeling horrible that he’s led you to so much pain throughout the years.

“It wasn’t my place,” Dean replied simply.

Interrupting their conversation, Cas cleared his throat and said, “I don’t mean to interrupt this conversation about feelings, but if I could maybe look at her wound to see if I can heal her…”

“Right,” Sam said, standing up and getting out of the way so Cas could lift up your gown to see the damage.

When the gown was pulled away, it was revealed that the dressing the surgeon had put on was soaked through with blood already. Seeing this, Sam sighed and ran his fingers through his hair as he began to pace the room. “Sam calm down,” Dean told him sternly.

“She’s still bleeding!” Sam said back sharply.

“And he’s an angel!” Dean snapped back, not wanting to show that he was worried too.

“I should be able to heal her,” Cas told Sam reassuringly as he laid his hand over the dressing. He closed his eyes and channeled his grace to heal the wound, sealing it up and repairing the bits of undetected internal damage as well. Once the angel grace’s light left his body, he nodded and said, “She’s healed,” before replacing your gown and covering you back up.

Sam sighed in relief and smiled before whispering, “Thank you.”

A few moments later, your eyes began to flutter open and you looked around before weakly whispering, “Sam?”

“Yeah? I’m here, I’m here, you’re safe,” he told you as he made his way back over to your side. He took your hand before nodding to Cas and telling you, “Cas healed you.”

“Oh, thank you Cas,” you said with a small smile.

“No problem,” he replied with a nod.

There was a moment of silence while you looked down at your hand that was being held by Sam’s, so Dean said, “I think there’s something you two need to talk about. We’ll be in the waiting area. Come on Cas.”

Once it was just the two of you in the room, Sam cleared his throat before he said, “So about what you said right before you were taken away…”

Remembering that you told him that you loved him, you quickly looked away and said, “I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to make things weird… I know you want a normal girl with a normal life and I… I can’t give that to you…”

“Hey, hey, look at me,” Sam said softly. You shyly turned back toward him and he told you, “I was just shocked. I think I've accepted that normal just isn’t gonna work out for me. Dean told me that you’ve been feeling that way for a while now and… I guess I’m just wondering if you would want to give us a shot?”

A smile made its way onto your face and you nodded, a happy tear slipping from your eye. Sam leaned in to kiss you, but you stopped him, saying with a laugh, “No, no. I don’t want our first kiss to be in this damn hospital room.”

“Fair enough,” Sam said with a quiet laugh, redirecting and placing a gentle kiss on your forehead instead. After a few seconds, Sam told you, “Thank you. For saving me from that ghoul. I should've been looking out for you though.”

“Any time,” you replied with a small laugh.

Later that day when the doctor came to assess your wound, he was a bit taken back by the healing of it, saying, “It’s a miracle…”

“It really is, isn’t it?” Cas asked, trying to hide his smirk.

“So when’s she clear to go home, Doc?” Dean asked.

“I mean we would like to hold her overnight for observation, but if all goes well she should be able to discharge tomorrow,” he replied, still staring at the scar on your abdomen.

Sam took a step away and bit his knuckle, trying not to laugh as the surgeon stepped out of the room, a flabbergasted look on his face. When he left the room, Dean was the first to speak, saying, “Okay let’s all admit, that man had no confidence in himself.”

“Nope,” Sam said with a laugh.

“I’m glad Cas showed up if that’s the dude who operated on me, damn…” you said with a roll of your eyes.

“I’m glad I could be of service,” Cas told you with a smile.

“Well if you’re stable now, I think Cas and I can head back to that ghost case I abandoned to come check on you. I’ll see you later kid,” Dean said to you before squeezing your shoulder and heading out of the room with Cas in tow.

The next morning you were discharged so you and Sam made your way back to the bunker together. The ride back was filled with you playing your favorite songs to educate Sam as well as stopping at a restaurant for your first official date.

When you got back to the bunker, Sam closed the door to the garage behind you and you wrapped your arms around him before standing on your tiptoes to kiss him. Sam smiled into the kiss and placed his hands on your hips, pulling you closer. This prompted you to deepen the kiss, swiping your tongue on his bottom lip, wanting more. Sam obliged and your kisses quickly turned desperate, wanting something more than a simple kiss now that you were in each other’s arms.

Before he even thought about it, Sam lifted you into his strong arms and began kissing your neck as he took you to his room, leaving the beginnings of a hickey behind. As he did this, little whimpers began to slip from your lips as pleasure sparked through your body. When he got to his room, Sam pinned you against the door as he began to kiss you once again. Being in such a vulnerable position made you weak in the knees and you moaned Sam’s name as you continued to lose yourselves in one another's lips.

“Yeah?” he asked as he moved back to your neck, sucking and making the hickey darker, evoking another whimper from your lips that just fueled him more.

“God I need you so bad,” you whispered, grinding your hips against him in hopes of some sort of relief for the growing tension between your thighs.

“How about I make that wish come true?” he asked as he took you to his bed, gently putting you down before slipping out of his flannel and undershirt. You followed suit, slipping off your shirt and earning a smile from Sam as he told you, “You’re beautiful.”

“You’re so sweet,” you said with a giggle as Sam got onto the bed, placing you on his lap as he continued to kiss you. Now it was your turn to tease him. As you kissed, you slowly ground down on Sam’s lap, feeling him grow harder beneath you as you did.

“Shit,” Sam breathed as he leaned his head back against the wall, bucking his hips up against you.

You kissed his neck before whispering in his ear, “I want you to rock me Sammy.”

“Yes ma’am,” he replied with a chuckle, unbuckling his belt while you hopped off the bed momentarily. You turned your back to him as you took off your bra and then sweats and panties, teasing him by shaking your ass at him with a laugh. “Oh you’re gonna get it for that,” he said with a laugh as he slipped off his jeans and underwear, standing up to pull you into his arms once more.

Sam pushed against you, teasing you with the tip of his hard cock, the sparks of pleasure making him desperate for more. He lifted you up once more and placed you on the bed, running his fingers along your thigh and up to your clit, making you gasp in pleasure. “Don’t be a tease,” you whispered.

“I’m just seeing how wet you are,” he said with a smirk before kissing your neck as he slipped a couple fingers in with ease.

“God Sam I just want you to fuck me,” you said with desperation in your voice, grinding against his fingers, wanting - no, needing - more.

“As you wish,” he said, his voice impossibly deep as he pulled his fingers out and rubbed the slick on his cock. “I see patience isn’t your strong suit, huh?” he asked teasingly as he lined up with your entrance. Without much of a warning, he thrusted in with a deep moan.

“Fuck you’re amazing,” you whispered, your head falling back on the pillow as Sam slowly began to kick up his pace, the pleasure overcoming his body as restraint started to leave his muscles.

“So are you,” he told you, his face falling into the crook of your neck as he let out a soft groan of pleasure.

“Can I try something?“ he asked after a few minutes of slow and sweet love-making, feeling his release starting to build and wanting to make this as good as possible for you.

“Yeah,” you replied with a nod. With your permission, Sam lifted your legs up and hooked them around his broad shoulders, the new angle hitting all the right spots, the pleasure for both of you becoming insurmountable. The moan alone that you let out was almost enough to make Sam come, and your near pornographic whimpering of his name upped the ante even more.

Sam brought one of his hands to your clit and began rubbing, desperate to make you feel as good as possible and it seemed to work because your moans and whimpers just kept coming and it was almost enough to make him burst. “Fuck I’m close,” Sam whispered, speeding up his pace as his thrusts started to become erratic.

“Me too,” you breathed, your hands grasping at the sheets on either side of you as your eyes rolled into the back of your head momentarily.

“Fuck…” Sam grunted as he felt his orgasm building impossibly fast, not wanting this feeling to end.

“Oh my God, Sam, Sam!” you moaned as you felt herself coming undone around him. The pulsing of your sweet cunt around him drove Sam over the edge and he pulled out at the last second, moaning your name in a deep gravelly voice. Before he came, Sam quickly grabbed his shirt off the side of the bed and put it around himself so he wouldn't make a mess as he came undone, his muscles twitching as he did so.

Out of breath, Sam tossed the shirt aside and laid down beside you on the bed wrapping an arm around you, completely relaxed. You rested your head on his chest and listened to his racing heartbeat begin to slow down as you ran your fingers along his abs. “That was amazing,” Sam whispered, kissing the top of your head.

“Well worth the wait,” you replied with a giggle.

Not even a few seconds later you began to drift off to sleep on Sam’s chest which made him smile. Feeling completely relaxed and safe for the first time in a while, you drifted off to sleep and finally got the rest you’d been needing for weeks.

a/n: and here we are at the end of my second one shot! since i started writing these one shots i've started to feel more confident in writing reader fics so we'll see if i end up getting out more one shots for various fandoms! here is a link to my (minimal at the moment) masterlist where you can find my Steve Rogers long fic as well as a Bucky Barnes one shot. soon to join those will be a Daredevil x OC fic i have written, so be on the lookout for that if that's one of your fandoms! anyways, i hope you all enjoyed this sweet, angsty, fluffy, smutty piece!

#sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #supernatural #one shot #pwp #fanfic #fluff #smut #sam winchester x female reader #saving people hunting things #light angst

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nevertheless-moving · 2 months

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thinking about how fucking impossible it would be to pine secretly after someone on roshar. Like even if we assume that passionspren are only summoned by the most intense love and/or horniness - that's almost worse isn't it? Because you wouldn't be able to laugh it off like 'haha just a passing thought. Whoops again? Hahaha oh I suppose I have a little crush'

Anyway Kaladin doing one of his canonical epic hero glowing stunts with his canonical destroyed/soaked clothing (what. the man is constantly avoiding shardblades and arrows by a hairsbreath and flying around In Highstorms. The only reason he would even have pants at the end of WOR after the everstorm/highstorm fight is because we're following comic book rules- there's no way this man isn't going through clothes faster than James T Kirk - even if he's not his uniform shirt is WHITE and -)

ANYWAY kaladin having one of his Protaganist Moments and like. There is less than than zero time between the 'Oh. Oh.' Moment and Eventual Feelings Reveal because blorbo B is very visibly displaying a personified manifestation of intense romantic adoration.

#Stormlight archive #Kaladin stormblessed #Words of radiance #I've never so contendly accepted and incorporated every possible ship and aroace headcanon into my belief system for a singular character #I'm like the wind #I think it's the combination of #A) literally every person who spends more than 5 minutes around Kaladin falls at least a little in love with him #so that's at least one side that's easy enough to grow upon #And #B) Kaladin loves and wants to protect every person he spends more than 5 minutes around #Distinction between in love and love but like.#Yeah thats enough for nearly any ship ranging from qpr to pwp to be presented to me and me to go hm yeah I can see that #Also? More importantly-#Many ships - hilarious if true #Like the wind I say #Everybody loves kaladin #Nevertheless meta #cosmere #nevertheless cosmere

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skullsuited · 5 months

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drunk & high.

gif credit.

an lhh!era/fwb!harry imagine that is simply riddled with pure filth, wine consumption & marijuana smoking. inspired by true events.

smut warning: some heavy degradation/dirty talk, daddy kink, hair pulling, p-in-v sex. this is just straight up porn without plot.

Maybe it was the red wine, perhaps it was the fact that you’d both drunk almost the entirety of the bottle.

It could’ve been the joint you two smoked. Harry always has good weed, it continuously blows your mind how pure and strong it is.

Whatever it was, it had led you to this very moment. Your feelings of undeniable lust and mutual appreciation for one another, along with your inebriation and intoxication had found a home in your bodies and the scene you were in would be burned into your memory for the foreseeable future.

Your lower half is exposed, leggings and underwear pulled down just enough so Harry has access to your core. “Please…” You whine submissively, lying on your stomach as anticipation courses through your veins. You want him so badly and the state of your mind is only making him look ten times sexier than you usually find him.

Harry towers over you, growling with dominance and desire as he grips your hips with one hand and guides his cock into your cunt with the other, emerald eyes gazing down at you from above.

It’s clear he wants you just as much as you want him.

Your jaw slackens as he pushes inside of you, a gasp leaving your throat as his cock stretches you out in the familiar, practiced way it always has. After a few years of exploring each other’s bodies, you both are knowledgeable in how to make one another moan or render each other absolutely speechless – though, he’s the one who usually has you doing those things.

Harry’s quick to lie on top of you, his chest pressed to your back as he begins to thrust slowly, heavy breaths and soft grunts leaving his raspberry colored lips. Your eyes meet and his hand tangles in your hair to maneuver your head, lips meeting yours in a sloppy-sweet kiss.

It’s brief, a gradually growing makeout session that only lasts a few seconds, but you take it for what it's worth. Then he really starts fucking you. His hands find your hips and his torso is no longer pressed to yours, but the sight above you is almost mesmerizing; head thrown back, features screwed up in pleasure and concentration and all you can do is gape at him, watch as he takes you, takes you like you belong to him and only him.

Your eyes shut, too lost in the pleasure you’re receiving from the man hovering above you.

“D-Daddy, oh…” You moan, body moving like the sea’s tide, allowing yourself to relax and simply be fucked by Harry. One of his hands tangles in your hair again, pulling at it before pushing your head into the mattress, a low groan rumbling in his chest.

You both move in quick succession, the wine and the weed impairing time and heightening pleasure as your bodies mold to each other, forgetting about the outside world or your duties as adults. Right now, in the safe space of his bedroom, the only thing and only people that matter are you and him and the art you’ve both perfected when it came to being sexual partners.

Harry pulls out of you briefly, flipping you both onto your sides before pushing back into you. You can feel how wet you’ve gotten his cock, how wet you’ve gotten as he resumes fucking you, thrusting with fervor. His right arm is wrapped around your chest, keeping you pressed to his own, while his left hand is anchored to your waist, pulling your ass into him.

“L-love taking your c-cock.” You speak, words broken by ecstasy.

His lips are near your ear, “Yeah, take this cock you fucking cockslut.”

Your hand finds its way in between your legs, preoccupying your fingers with rubbing your clit in fast, small circles. “Oh my God, oh my God…”

“Gonna cum for me, darling? Hm? Are you goin’ to cum on Daddy’s cock?”

“Yes- yes, fuck, Harry.” You babble, your free hand clawing at the arm he’s got wrapped around your chest. You aren’t quite sure how much time has passed since you initially started your tryst, but you do know that your impending orgasm is approaching rather quickly. “Want- want your cum. Want you to cum inside me.” You add, hopefully spurring his own release on.

“Yeah? You want my cum?”

You nod jerkily, body shaking as your orgasm draws nearer. You are so close, but you don’t want to cum without him.

“Then take it.” Harry growls and before your brain can register it, you feel his cock throb inside you, his thrusts slowing as he empties himself. The feeling alone sends you into overdrive, your own release crashing down on you with intensity as you tense up, moaning his name like a mantra.

“That’s it. S’ a good slut.” He murmurs, thrusting his hips languidly into you, fucking you slowly through your orgasm. Your fingers cease their movements once Harry stops his, your hand falling away from your clit.

You both go quiet, breathing heavily as your climaxes dissipate and you wade in the post coital bliss. Harry pulls out of you gently before settling on his back, pulling your body into his. Your head rests on his chest and a smile pulls at your lips as his arm wraps around you, holding you close.

“Can we do this again?” You ask, nuzzling your face into his chest a bit.

“I don’t see why not.” He replies.

You nod, silence slipping over the moment as sleep pulls you both under.

Perhaps getting drunk and high with Harry would become a whole new adventure.

#harry styles imagines #1d imagines #harry imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles #harry styles smut #harry smut #harry one shot #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #lhh!era #fwb!harry #lhh #1d smut #1d imagine #yes my real life inspired this 🥴#mostly pwp

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starrystevie · 9 months

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such a heavenly way to die | written by rogersharringtons on ao3

“I wish I could have had sex just once before I bit the dust.” The tension in the air is thick, palpable, living up to every cliche Steve’s heard before. He has half a mind to pull out his pocket knife to see if he can really cut through it. Steve doesn’t dare break the moment, though, letting Eddie breath a few times before continuing on. “It’s hard enough dying a loser, but a virgin? Talk about lame.” Eddie laughs, and it’s not real, it’s something broken and fake in the way it climbs out of his throat. “What’s worse, I haven’t even kissed anyone. Jesus Christ, what a sad legacy to leave behind. Practically Shakespearian levels of tragic.” Eddie has on that sad, self-deprecating smile that pulls at Steve’s heartstrings every time he sees it. It’s too much before the end of the world, it’s too much for Steve who knows this is his last chance to be brave in a way he hasn’t had to be before. “Kiss me.” Steve can see how Eddie freezes, his chest the only thing that shows he’s still alive because of the way it’s puffing out with Eddie’s deep breaths. His sad little smile turns down and Steve decides he hates Eddie’s frown even more. “God, pity is even worse than embarrassment. Thanks, Steve”

their final fight against the upside down will happen in the morning, so eddie admits a secret that needs to be said before the end of the world. what kind of monster would steve be to not help him out?

17k+ words | one shot | explicit

tags: angst with a happy ending, virgin eddie munson, accidental power bottom steve harrington, first times, porn with plot

#steddie #steddie fic #my writing #steddie one shot #steve harrington #eddie munson #pwp #this took a thousand years and it's FINALLY done #this is like 10k over what i expected oops #stranger things #stranger things fic #virgin eddie munson #i think the accidental power bottom steve harrington tag is my new favorite tbh

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fortpeat · 6 months

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Fav PaiSky fics of all time

(Update) Almost all of them are one chapter fics and easier to keep up with. - P.s dont forget to look at the tags of fics. Also this list is based on how many times i have reread all of them which is countless at this point and also these are my comfort fics.

Invisible Ladders

Operation Dessert

fingertips putting on a show

Layer by Layer

Slowly, then all at once

Don't Lick (Read: Lick Harder)

Time Taken

Claiming Ownership

and I want you (to want me)

An Admission of Surrender

Rewrite the lines

Home

Unbreakable

Driving Me Wild

In the middle of the night

Up to you

The wounds we Feel, In solace we Heal

With you, I'm a Beautiful Mess

More than a Memory

Set My Veil on Fire

Show Me You're Shameless

Make me Fly

Sunlight & Stardust

Bound (Singing On His Body)

Between These Pages

a poorly-wired circuit

What An Honour That Is

#love in the air #prapaisky #fic recs #paisky fics #out of like 65 bookmarks I had to choose #the top ones that I read on a daily basis #its a mix of every thing #there is feelings #there is PWP #its all beautiful in its own way

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pedroshotwifey · 6 months

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Hungry Like The...

Pairing: Werewolf!Frankie Morales x AFAB!Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Tags/Warnings: Smut, PIV sex, oral sex (f receiving), fluff, established relationship, no use of y/n, Frankie has a monster cock, im missing stuff but I want to go to bed so...

Summary: You and Frankie decide to attend an 80s themed Halloween party. Through all of the excitement, you must have forgotten what day the full moon falls on.

A/N: I'm gonna go ahead and say that I rushed the absolute fuck out of this one, but I think it turned out pretty good. I really kind of jumped outside of my comfort zone with this, so I'm kinda proud that I did that. That being said, please feel free to call me out on anything that might not make sense or anything that I should change at all because I'm half clueless with this kind of stuff. Please consider reposting and/or liking. Thank you for reading and HAPPY HALLOWEEN!! <3

***

You have no idea where Frankie snuck off too.

He claimed he was going to get the two of you more drinks, but that was about ten minutes ago. You’re well aware that it should have taken less than half of that for him to find his way to the refreshment table, pick up some drinks, and bring them back to you.

Right now, though, you’re too blissed out to care—not that you have much to worry about with your loving boyfriend anyway. The lights are almost blinding as you spin around beneath them, but they transform into a nice glow thanks to the buzz you’re sporting. “Mony Mony,” is blaring through the speakers and you're in your zone as you swing your hips to the beat.

You’re glad that Frankie had suggested that you two attend this party specifically. The only requirements were that you had to dress up as an 80’s character in order to fit the era the party revolves around. 80’s costumes, 80’s music, 80’s decor. Luckily for you, the 80’s is one of your absolute favorite decades, and you’re pretty sure Frankie knew that when he signed the two of you up.

The dance floor is packed with people to the point where you can’t stretch out all the way without bumping into someone. Usually, that would irk you, but you can’t find it in you to mind tonight. It’s not like anybody else does.

As you snap your hips to the beat, you look around at all the different costumes in the crowd. You see a handful of Star Wars characters, a couple of Freddy Kruegers, some Ghost Busters, and—of course—a shit ton of Madonnas. The rest, for the most part, are pretty original.

You’re pretty proud of your own costume, to be honest. You had spent a couple of weeks configuring a custom-made Storm costume. You’ve been an X-Men fan for as long as you can remember, and it made you so happy to try on your costume for the first time a few days ago. It’s pretty damn spot-on.

Frankie, on the other hand, had insisted on being a werewolf. Like turning into one once a month wasn’t enough already. You had simply rolled your eyes and asked him what he had in mind so you could make his costume. It was worth it to see the way he lit up, even though he’s cutting it close with the party’s theme.

After the year he had, he deserves to be happy—even if it means you have to endure his stupid jokes every now and again. When he gets tipsy, his goofy humor always makes an appearance. It’s one of your favorite parts about nights out with your boyfriend. He never fails to make you laugh.

Just as you begin to worry that he might have gotten lost in the crowd, you feel a hand spin you around. You’re getting ready to tell someone off until you come face to face with those irresistible brown eyes.

“Hey there, Hermosa,” he says as he cuddles up to you, swaying you to the song. “Having fun, sweetheart?”

You giggle as he bends down and nuzzles his face into your neck. Glancing down, you almost aren’t surprised to see that he doesn’t have any drinks.

“Frankie?” You ask casually as you throw your arms around him.

“Hmm?”

“Did you find the drinks?”

Suddenly, he stops moving and stands up straight again, a playful smile plastered across his face.

“Guess not,” he says. “Found something to eat, though,” he winks and you playfully roll your eyes as he throws himself back onto you. As the song changes to “When Doves Cry”, he begins to dance with you. Frankie has never been the best dancer, but it's better this way. Neither of you take anything seriously as you push and pull your bodies together, giving eachother flirty kisses every now and again.

You laugh as you bump into someone and flash them an apologetic look. Frankie really loves to bring out your careless side. You honestly didn’t know you were capable of being so care-free until you had met him. Sometimes he makes you feel as if nothing else matters but you and him. It’s times like these that you really realize just how lucky you are to have him.

“Alright, baby,” Frankie says after a moment, bringing you out of your thoughts. “I’m going to go get us those drinks now.”

Instead of answering him, you get up on your tip-toes and kiss him. He begins to wrap his arms around you again, but you gently push him off, giving him a faux stern look.

“Alright, alright, I get it, baby, I’m going!” he says over the music before turning around to scamper away.

You have to suppress a giggle when he jolts as you deliver a light slap to his ass. He turns just enough to flash you a dirty look, and you give him one of feigned innocence in return, well aware he’ll get you back for that eventually if you continue to tease.

“Hurry up, wolfboy!” you shout after him.

***

Alright, you’re actually about to be pissed this time.

There’s absolutely no way he lost you—or rather, you lost him—twice. He has to be playing with you, right? Whatever, if that’s the case, two can play at that game.

You’ll just pretend like you don’t even notice something is missing. Maybe once he sees you where he left you, completely unaffected by his absence, he’ll stop being such an ass.

Perfect. Perfect plan.

You shake your head and dance as the song ends. You can have fun by yourself if your boyfriend wants to be immature.

Well, it would have been a perfect plan.

As if he could somehow read your mind—which you almost wouldn’t doubt at this point—you spot Frankie in your vision once again. However, this time, he’s not coming over to you.

He has a familiar dark look in his eyes that immediately soaks you, despite yourself. You stop dancing because as quick as you see him, he’s gone again. You spin in a panicked circle as the song changes to one by Duran Duran. You almost laugh at the irony as “Hungry Like the Wolf” blares through the speakers.

Your phone buzzes in the small pocket of your bodysuit, and you pause your quick search to look at it. Your brow furrows as you see that it’s a text from Frankie. What the fuck is he playing at? Quickly, you unlock your phone and open your messages.

“Better start running, baby,” the text reads. You look up, your eyes frantically scanning the crowd around you. Maybe the song choice isn’t so ironic after all.

“Don’t let me catch you… feeling hungry like the wolf tonight…”

You don’t stop to think before you make a mad dash toward the exit, your heart dropping to your stomach as you go. You get some pissed looks as you shove through people, your heart hammering in your chest and your eyes darting every which way.

You have no idea where he could be at this point. Maybe he’s somewhere inside, having missed your exit. He could be trailing right behind you, ready to grab you at any moment.

Soon enough, it is revealed that he is, once again, always one step ahead of you. As soon as you step out of the doors, a large body is engulfing yours and carrying you to a secluded spot on the patio, though there’s nobody outside anyway.

You would scream if not for the large hand that covers your lips when he grabs you. You know it’s Frankie, of course, but the exhilaration that comes from the scare really adds to the game the two of you just started.

You ignore the heat simmering between your legs as he sets you down on your own feet and removes his hand from your mouth. Neither of you move, you don’t look up, he doesn’t crouch down. You just stand there, breathing heavily as Frankie embraces your figure.

You can’t help but lean back into him, letting your guard down probably isn’t the best idea right now, but you can’t find it in you to care about that fact at the moment.

The fresh air feels nice on your heated cheeks, but Frankie's front against your back feels even better. The music continues to play faintly behind you as you sway side to side, Frankie’s arms wrapped tightly around you, his head resting on your shoulder.

You swear you could stay here forever. Actually, you could stay anywhere, as long as you had Frankie. But right now, you can’t imagine anything more perfect than this. As long as you have your boyfriend’s arms around you, you would do anything or go anywhere he wants to.

Your body may be his, but you decided a long time ago that your soul belongs to him as well. He can pick it up and do whatever he wishes with it, and you know he could never do anything that would cause your trust or love for him to dull.

“Look up, sweetheart,” Frankie’s soft voice brings you out of your thoughts, making you open your eyes. You hadn’t realized they had slid shut in the first place.

The sight of the full moon high up in the night sky confirms your suspicions. Frankie’s going to turn tonight.

Fuck, you’re screwed, your subconscious automatically screams at you.

You can't miss the way your panties dampen as the thought crosses your mind. Your body stiffens as you fight the urge to run, the adrenaline getting the best of you.

Frankie must feel the way you tense up because his arms immediately tighten around you.

“It’s alright, hermosa,” he whispers into your ear. “Just means we’ll have a bit more fun than usual.”

You try but fail to stifle your grin at his menacing tone. Just because you know you’re screwed doesn’t mean you don't enjoy it.

“Probably got less than ten minutes now,” Frankie says far too casually. “Let’s pick up on our little chase, yeah?”

He lets you out of his grasp this time, and you turn around to give him a peck on his cheek, allowing your hand to brush past his erection as you pull away. The touch is just enough for Frankie to grit his teeth as he hisses out. The warning glance he gives you makes arousal burn deep into your core, only serving to make you more excited.

“I’ll give you a head start, sweetheart,” he says, his tone giving you a warning, “I’d take it if I were you.”

With his word, you spin on your heel, ready to plummet into the forest, but you only get about a foot before he has a large hand wrapped around your wrist. Your heart beats louder in your chest as you turn to look at him, his eyes dark with lust.

“Don’t let me catch you this time,” he says, pulling you close enough for his lips to flutter across your ear as he speaks. “I won’t go easy on you.”

You ignore the shiver in your spine as you pull back as much as you can.

“Maybe I don't want you to go easy on me,” you whisper back, earning a slight growl from Frankie. He lets his hand linger on you for only a moment more before letting go, this time allowing you to back away.

“Don’t push yourself too hard then, because I’m going to fucking exaust you when I catch up.”

You smile before turning once again, pushing yourself into the trees without looking back.

***

The sound of your heartbeat is deafening as you run through the otherwise silent forest. The steady pitter-patter of the organ combined with your ragged breathing and your frantic footsteps make a horrifying symphony. Even those sounds seem muffled, though, with the amount of pure adrenaline that courses through your veins and drowns out your senses.

Frankie can’t be too far behind you now. You guess you’ve been running for about fifteen minutes. There’s no doubt that he has turned at this point; he proved it with the howl you heard bellowing through the woods a couple minutes ago.

Since then, you haven't stopped to take a breath. There is pure fear in the fact that you have a beast on your trail, but also excitement in knowing what will likely happen once he catches up.

For now though, fear is the dominant emotion. It’s prominent enough to keep you going even as your hair gets tugged by branches and your skin gets scratched and torn by twigs and thorns. None of it seems to matter right now just as long as you can keep your distance from the monster hunting you down.

Suddenly, you hear a snap from somewhere behind you. The noise is sharp, a twig snapping beneath heavy weight. It reverberates all around you, sending a shiver down your spine. Soon after, You pick up on the steady thumping of what sounds to be an animal hot on your tail.

The sound gets closer and closer even as you push yourself to run faster. Your entire body is shaking and you can feel tears welling up in your eyes. You can practically feel Frankie’s breath on your neck, the sensation almost more powerful than the ache overtaking your legs and abdomen.

“Please, leave me alone!” You cry out the plea over your shoulder, your voice bordering a sob. Your gut is curling with a mixture of panic and arousal. The responding growl makes the tears you have been holding spill over and your knees buckle.

For a second, you’re worried that you might fall, but you’re pushed into the ground before you have the chance to do it yourself. The weight of Frankie pouncing on top of you knocks the wind out of you, a sharp cry leaving your lips as your breath is taken.

In the time that it takes you to get your breath back, Frankie has your bodysuit torn enough to pry off of your shaking body, and your lacy panties shoved–or ripped–down your legs. Luckily, the bodysuit was the cheapest and easiest to find component of your costume. You can feel a whisper of his claws against your skin as he drags scraps away from where he needs you most.

Your arms flail wildly, your fingers trying to grasp a handful of fur from the beast atop you. Frankie sees what you’re trying to do, and with a growl, he ducks down and slides toward your feet, away from your hands.

Before you can question what he’s doing, you feel something thick, wet, and warm against your bare, soaked cunt.

A high pitched moan tumbles from your lips as Frankie drags his tongue across your pussy before dipping it into your core.

The hot muscle digs deep into your cunt, curling once it's in all the way. You can feel his nose bobbing up and down against your ass as he starts to work his tongue in and out of your cunt.

“F-Frankie, fuck!” You scream, feeling your orgasm building embarrassingly quickly.

The way his tongue swirls and scrapes against your walls is absolutely delicious, and that combined with the tip of the muscle prodding against your g-spot? You’re fucking done for.

You’re writhing as Frankie brings his tongue out to swallow down the slick he’s collected, and you can feel the way a combination of your arousal and his saliva leaks out of your pulsing cunt, coming down to collect at your clit and make you shudder. You’re so close to coming, a warm feeling that can only be described as pure euphoria making a home deep in your lower abdomen.

Almost as soon as he was gone, Frankie shoves his tongue back inside of you, meticulously prodding all the right places. You’re gasping and moaning so loud you have half the mind to feel bad for whatever critters might reside in these woods.

That thought passes quickly, though, once you feel yourself returning to the edge. Frankie flicks his tongue one more time and you’re suddenly convulsing around him. The high seems to go on forever, your toes curling and your fingers grasping at the leafy ground in front of you.

The beast doesn’t pull away as you come, instead, he allows you to rock your hips back and forth in order to prolong your pleasure for as long as possible. You don’t even notice that you moved your arm until you feel one hand entangled in soft fur, your subconscious mind telling you to hold him to you.

You hear Frankie whine from behind you and you have to suppress the urge to giggle. He’s always liked it when you tug at his hair, and apparently, being in this form leaves no room for exceptions.

Your body goes limp as Frankie backs away from you, making it easy for him to nudge you to prop you up where he wants you. Hands and knees, of course. He wastes no time in getting into position behind you, crowding you in with his massive form.

The tip of his cock feels massive against your swollen cunt, but it only takes a few swipes of the beast’s hips before he is notched into your entrance. With one more thrust, he’s pushing in all the way, making you scream as your pussy stretches to accommodate his girth.

Frankie lets out a series of whimpers as he starts a brutal pace, not giving you a second to adjust. Your hands come up to grasp above his paws, which are positioned on either side of your head, and then up a little.

“F-Frankie!” Your moan comes out more like a screech, the pain quickly turning into a sick pleasure as he rips you open on his cock. Each time he thrusts, it’s accompanied by a puff of breath which fans out across your cheek.

The sound of his whines and ragged breathing mix with the squelching noises coming from your cunt and the panting coming from your lips, everything combined making the filthiest symphony you’ve ever heard.

Your second orgasm starts to build rapidly, your cunt beginning to flutter around Frankie’s unforgiving length. With each punch, the tip of his cock touches something heavenly within you, making your eyes roll to the back of your head.

You’re pretty sure you’re drooling, but you find that every limb has turned to jelly, preventing you from bringing your hand up to check. If not for the monster above you impaling you on his length, you would likely be flat on the forest floor right now.

Every thought that had previously occupied your mind is forced out of you as Frankie effortlessly pries another orgasm from you. He doesn’t slow or pause as you squeeze around his cock like a vice. If anything, it only spurs him on and gets him going faster, if that's even possible.

With each slam of his hips, you feel your body being sent forward, only stabilized by your palms, which are somehow still firmly planted on the ground.

‘Oh god, Frankie,” your voice sounds hazy to your own ears. “F-feels so fucking good, Francisco.”

You hear him grunt at the sound of his full name, something you usually only call him in bed—or in this case, in the middle of nowhere.

It does feel good, his cock feels absolutely massive. You know that it is definitely bigger than when he’s in his human form—the size of which should be considered supernatural in it’s own way. Right now, though, he feels bigger than ever, thicker, longer. The only thought occupying your mind at the moment is how badly you want to suck his cock.

How the fuck does this man fuck you so good to the point where you fantasize about giving him a blowjob while he’s already inside of you? Next time, you’ll have to get his dick in your mouth before he shoves it into your cunt.

Your eyes droop as your second orgasm morphs into a third, your body growing weaker with each movement from Frankie. You ignore the shaking to spread your legs wider to allow him better access, which results in him getting to a deeper spot with the new angle.

Your mouth drops open as you begin to come again, a silent scream getting stuck in your throat. This time, as you constrict around his monstrous cock, you can feel his hips stutter. He’s getting close, which is probably a good thing considering you’re about to pass out from both pleasure and exhaustion.

“C-come on, Frankie, f-fill me up,” you command through moans. It very obviously eggs him on because before you know it, he’s stilling inside of you, howling into the trees, and blowing his massive load deep into your core.

The feeling of his cum painting your walls is fucking heavenly. Spurt after spurt of his warm seed fills you to the brim until it eventually starts to seep out around the base of his cock. If you thought you had felt full before, that was nothing compared to now.

Frankie gives you a few minutes to calm down before he starts to lower himself to the ground, laying on his side and tugging you with him. Your body and mind are equally compliant with his request.

As your eyes shut once again, you can feel Frankie starting to shift behind you, probably making his transformation back to his human form. Try as you might, you know you won’t have enough energy to wait for him to be done, so you make the most of it and snuggle into his soft fur. You know that you’ll wake up safe and sound in your bed, tangled with your kind, attentive, and very much human boyfriend.

#pedro pascal #fan fiction #ao3 #smut #pedro pascal smut #frankie morales #triple frontier #frankie morales x reader #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #werewolf #werewolf smut #halloween #happy halloween #one shot #pwp

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blorb-el · 23 days

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Psssst does the au superbat fic exist bc I waaaaaaaaant it

I want it too 😭 tragically it only exists in about........4.5k scattered scenes which I try to poke at in between working on my main project rn!

misc worldbuilding scraps that are currently rotating on the back burner:

(omegaverse) human instinct relies on scent > hearing > taste > sight to find compatible partners, kryptonian instincts lean on sight > hearing > scent > taste, hence the mating markings

omegaverse humans have a much higher degree of face blindness than we normal humans do lmao

helps clark pass, the more he pulls his scent back the more it fades away, clark kent smells so dull/insignificant/mild that it seems like he's got a medical condition (hypomyrodia). jonathan kent had this. when jonathan and martha found bby kal, he was scared and tried to match scents to the two humans who found him, which caused his kryptonian scent to quickly fade. a hypomyrodic pup would probably face high abandonment rates and low adoption rates, so it was probably a relief that two willing parents brought the pup in

kryptonians all pretty much exist along a relatively smooth spectrum of sexual characteristics and can transition somewhat like clownfish if there's a hormonal imbalance in their community. having zero (0) other kryptonians around does things to clark before he grows the fortress and is able to synthesize hormone stabilizers

humans meanwhile have ten major sexes because betas can be true beta, alpha-leaning, or omega-leaning depending on their recessive genes

poison ivy is x100 more horrifying in any omegaverse world. she only manages to zop clark though bc the pollen is enchanted. however it's enchanted to induce primal alpha hindbrain, which means something very different to lone kryptonians than packbonded humans

it would have been the norm on krypton to have one's facial markings out. kryptonians would pull them back if they were sick, or perhaps terrified... primal hindbrain clark looking around and seeing nothing but non-glowing faces, and it coming across as everyone around him fucking terrified of him

for the first few months of their acquaintance clark is like. im not sure what gender batman is and at this point i'm not sure its ok to ask (he can smell past the concealing patches to bruce's strong omega scent but the patches could also be doubling as, like, the equivalent of binders, could be that batman's gender is null, but he mixes in diluted alpha cologne, but that could just be for concealment/intimidation....???)

sun-powered kryptonians have a strong, distinctively alien but somewhat alpha-smelling scent (when they're not pulling it back) but barely leave any on people they try to scent with, and scents barely stick to them. when clark politely explains this to bb dickie hes just like well i guess ill just have to scent you for longer! and clark goes 🥺

at this early point in the timeline barry is the only known omega superhero so the tabloids are huge into superflash

anyway all that's just kind of fluff/details... the core theme i've been rotating around is overcoming real and genuine barriers to intimacy. the loneliness of knowing you're a square peg in a world of round holes, the necessary compromises of sanding away your corners, the joy of meeting someone who will stretch to meet you where you are. there's a fair few excellent fics of bruce uncomfortable in an omega's role and body, i want to come at it from a perspective where a xenomegaverse clark has to define what gender means to him, in the heightened roles of the omegaverse. we are looking also at layers of passing. when parts of your closet become your armor that protects but encumbers you, and other parts become your exoskeleton, which grow into who you are. we are looking at that comic about the orchid that has the pattern on it meant to appeal to an extinct species of bee. we are looking at compromise made of love and compromise made of fear. and we are looking at tentacles baby.................

#OR WE WOULD BE LOOKING AT IT IF I HAD THE BRAIN SPACE FREE TO WRITE IT DOWN!!!!!#once wsbf is done. and the various pwps. and the kryptonian superbat au..... god that one's been on the back burner over a year lmao.......#reddest-x #thanks for the ask :^)

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kth1fics · 1 year

Text

Baddie (M) | KTH

⟶ Pairing: GangMember!Taehyung x Female Reader ⟶ Genre: Situationship, PWP, Smut, 18+ ⟶ WC: 4.8k+ ⟶ Warnings: Straight PWP, kissing, swearing, unprotected sex, choking, oc gags a little, blow job, brief fingering, light praising, taehyung is hinted to be in a gang, hinted to be in some sort of fight, hints of smoke and alcohol, (if i forgot anything i am sorry), etc ⟶ Beta: Holy smokes, I am so sorry Sarah ( @caelesjjk ) for looking this mess over but thank you for all of your suggestions! I needed this! ⟶ Summary: The bad boy in your life, Kim Taehyung, comes visiting once again for his basic needs to be met. ⟶ Author's Note: A fevered Maggie writes a quick pwp because of Taehyung’s Elle photoshoot. I am not sorry. Please save me guys. I’m lost. Please leave feedback and send asks my way! I want to know your thoughts! ⟶ Song Recommendation: Asshole by Hooligan Chase

Masterlist ◈ Mail Box ◈ AO3 ◈ Ko-Fi

“Come here.”

His hands reach out to drag your body against his. Immediate heat entrapping between the two of you, making you feel like putty in the matter of seconds. Taehyung hums a satisfied noise, nudging his nose into the crown of your head as his arms cage around you. His soft, tender lips press into your temple as he deeply sighs.

“I miss the smell of you,” he groans.

“Tae –” You warn as you turn in bed. Facing him and placing your head against his chest. You feel the beat of his heart thumping. Running wild inside his rib cage. “What’s the matter? Why are you here?” You grumble with sleep.

“You gave me a spare key,” he reminds you while one hand comes to pet your head, while the other travels along the outline of your nightwear, dancing his fingers across your skin in various areas. He needs to touch you, feel you. “Y/n, I need you.”

“Now?”

He bites back a smile. Of course now. He wouldn’t be here for anything else at this hour.

Gently, he presses himself harder against you. Pushing an ever growing bulge pressed to your back for you to feel. It’s when you open your eyes, try to adjust to the darkness of your room and look at Taehyung. Annoyance is the first thing that comes across; nobody likes being woken up in the middle of their sleep.

“Yes,” he mumbles. Placing his lips against your forehead and on top of your head. Anywhere to help wake you up. “I know I disappear all the time. But I really need this.”

He’s referencing your situationship. A man who is never ready to commit to you yet, always comes back for moments like these. When he needs a good lay. Someone to touch him. To be here for his animalistic and primal needs. For the record, you nearly always give it to him. Hoping that one day he’ll finally realize you’re good enough for a place in his life. You think he’s scared. From the very few deep conversations the two of you have, you have come to the conclusion that Taehyung doesn’t want to be hurt.

But you don’t dare ask him anything too personal. You’re lucky enough to get him to open up when he does.

If this is true… It sucks. Taehyung tells you that it’s for your own good. He’s secretive because he wants to keep you safe. You try your best to never show it. Acting like this tango between the two of you is nothing but casual and you’re fine with the snail’s pace of whatever ‘relationship’ this may be.

“Tae…” You’re more awake now. Leaning your head back, you are able to catch a glimpse of Taehyung’s face in the low lighting. There’s harsh scratches against one of his eyebrows, dried up blood staining his skin. His bottom lip looks bruised, jutting out a sliver more than his usual pout. “What happened to you,” you blink astonished. Calmly, you raise your hand to place your soft fingertips near the rough abrasion.

He turns his head, “I’m not going to talk about it. It’s better that you don’t know.”

“The gang?” You whisper, hoping this has nothing to do with that crew he’s tied to. “What did they make you do? Doesn’t it hurt?”

Taehyung takes your hand with his. He isn’t here to talk.

“Stop,” he states.

He leans in to minimize the last inches of space between the two of you. Lips pressing onto yours as his slender fingers rake through the roots of your hair. His hips rut into you the more he pulls you closer, practically dry humping you as his lips spellbind you in a heated make-out.

“I need you,” he huffs, breath fanning across your jaw as he descends to your neck. Taehyung buries his head there, tongue and teeth licking and nipping your skin. “So badly.”

Teasingly, you allow your own hand to travel down his abdomen, resting your palm just above the belt of his jeans. With a playful squeeze, you feel the way his muscles contract at your action. The tent in his pants twitching with eagerness.

“Will you tell me if I do this?” You hint as you continue your journey down South, hand brushing up and down the solid length of him. It earns you a groan from his throat as he sucks in a sharp breath.

“Yeah,” Taehyung breathlessly says as his eyes flutter at the contact.

Slowly, his hips start to move with your pace, urging forward into your warm palm. He wishes the denim wasn’t in the way of your skin, already shuffling to undo his belt and zip down his zipper. Taehyung makes haste pulling down his bottoms, releasing his cock into the air. When your hand brushes against it, not even wrapping your deft fingers around his base just yet, he’s biting down on his bottom lip with short, excited breaths.

You feel his leaking essence on your hand, you use it to help glide across his tip and through his slit. Apprehensively, you chew on your own lip as his generous cock flinches underneath your hand. Briefly, you push him away from you and urge him to lay against a pillow. Taehyung looks so serene with his eyes closed, mouth parting slightly while he allows your hand to sculpt the outline of his cock, pleasuring him as you do.

With one last look at him, his hooded eyes peer down at you.. Chest heaving and nodding his head, Taehyung approves of your touch and grants you the right to continue.

“Take off your shirt,” you mumble while you shuffle yourself further down the bed. You pull on the material covering him, letting Taehyung know you want it off urgently.

He does it with no questions asked. Pulling it up and over his head in the matter of seconds, revealing even more tanned skin and his sharp collarbones. An array of necklaces hang from his neck, dangling there like sin on a hook. There’s an open wound on one of his upper left pectorals, it stops you in your tracks. Your eyes are trained on the grotesque colors that dried around it, yet Taehyung gives you this firm look to not ask about it.

You want to lean up and kiss him with meaning. Tell him how you feel for him. Beg him to stop this gang shit and get out. Save himself. Let him know that seeing him hurt also hurts you. You can feel your poor wretched heart swelling with nothing but pain. But you can’t.

With strength, you press Taehyung’s hip down to the bed. Holding him there as your body fits over his long legs. He can suffer with the pants that hang around his knees, restricting his movement. You don’t have time to shimmy them off of him as your mouth teasingly hovers his cock. Taehyung’s expression falters suddenly, his heart-shaped lips narrowing.

It rests heavily along his lower abdomen before you fully grasp it with your hand. Small white pearls of pre-cum glisten tastefully on the bulbous cockhead that pleas to be touched. Taehyung is gifted with girth, there’s no doubt about it. His length is eye-catching as well. Mouth-watering even. Your eyes trail the thick vein that runs underneath the shaft, feeling the sudden pleasure building deep within your core when you imagine how he feels inside of you. How he squeezes his cock between your walls and pries you open so deliciously.

You’re impatient with the way you take Taehyung. Possessive, really. You want to show him your worth, your hidden love, as much as possible. There’s no time wasted with your firm and shy kitten licks right under his frenulum. The placement and contact of your warm, wet tongue draws a sharp inhale through Taehyung’s nose. Though he relaxed instantly once your tongue flattened to lather his swollen cock with saliva, spreading your tongue along his shaft.

He tastes just how he usually does. Sweet and salty. A flavor that convinces you that it is your absolute favorite flavor. Or maybe it’s just him.

Your mind explodes with thoughts and dirty desires. Want. Lust.

Confidently, you take Taehyung in one swift motion, taunting your tongue with swirls over the bulbous head until you lower yourself. Inch by inch. Taehyung groans, it rumbles within his chest as his head presses back into your pillow. His hips jolt under your ministrations as his eyelids shut tightly, savoring the moments of your lips pulled taut around his swollen cock.

“Fuck,” he breathes out. His hands are aimlessly wandering the covers before he shoots them to the back of your head, wanting to guide you if he can. Once he has a solid grip on you, he judges the bob of your head with his own dictation. Assisting you with how he likes it. “Yeah, yeah just like that.” Each passing moment of his breathless moans compels you to surge forward and dip your head further until his mushroom top head threatens to enter your throat.

This is what he wants, you know he does. The feeling of something preventing you from fully breathing sends a cool chill of excitement through your body. Whether it is a hand or dick, you welcome the anticipated restriction with excitement. You relax your jaw as much as possible to fit his beautiful girth as his hand presses down on the back of your head, shoving you more on his silken cock.

Taehyung hisses through gritted teeth, the feeling of your throat involuntarily spasming around his fat cock sends vibrations to his core. He feels the way his dick pulsates with the erratic pulses inside of him while he lays here and takes your mouth for his own pleasure.

“You’re so fucking good,” he moans and sucks in a breath. “Baby, you’re so fuckin’ good to me.”

The glistening tears that rest at the corners of your eyes threaten to drop when you look up at him through your lashes, blinking away as your throat stretches for him. He feels the pressure of your tongue pressing against him and the soft scrape of your teeth that sends rockets through his system. The contraction of your throat reminds him of your spasming pussy when he steals an orgasm from you.

His praise makes your stomach do summersaults. Makes you feel special that you are the one to do this to him. Make him feel something good.

“Oh god,” he struggles with himself when he shoves you deeper again. “I want to pour everything into your mouth. Look how you swallow me.”

His hand is strong against the back of your head and you know he’s serious. His cockhead presses against your esophagus suddenly and forces you to gag slightly.

Taehyung surprises you when he pulls you up without a warning. Saliva drips from your mouth as it coats your chin and lips. You insist on dropping down on him once more, enjoying the taste of him and still wanting to prove a point to him – but Taehyung has other plans. His thumb hooks inside your mouth before you could speak, rendering you in your place as he presses against your tongue to the floor of your mouth.

“The things this mouth does,” he wiggles his thumb against your tongue. “God, I love it.”

He praises you softly as he catches his breath. Taehyung drags you slowly toward him, releasing his grip off your mouth once your knees find leverage on both sides of his hips. Your core hovers above his pelvis. Everything in you wants to sit down right on top of his cock and slide along its length, but he prevents you with his hand. A featherlight touch right between your legs, edging closer to the clothed core of your pussy where he presses against the underwear you still wear.

He licks his lips before he slides his fingers along your slit, admiring how damp you’ve become.

“All this… And it’s for me?”

Taehyung is more firm when he taps two fingers against the cotton of your shorts, right over your mount to appreciate the warmth and wetness. You stifle a moan as you tilt your hips into his fletting touch. The slow circles around your covered clit has your insides clenching with excitement. Taehyung stares at you expectantly, the withdrawal of his fingers pulls your small smile into a frown.

“Of course it is.”

To your relief, Taehyung returns his fingertips with hardened strokes. You moan with glee, the push of pleasure against your most sensitive nerves sends delightful tingles of heat to your core.

He watches you from below. The image of you overwhelms him, entertains him. How appetizing and beautiful you look only sparks his lust more.

With a flick of his fingers, he pushes aside your panties to come in contact with your pooling arousal. Two digits slide heavenly between your slick folds as he dabs his fingertips teasingly against your entrance. It feels spellbinding when he circles his fingers around your entrance, enticing you to waver and beg for him to plunge them inside of you. With a free hand, he latches onto your wait and helps the movement of your hips against his movements.

“Mhm,” you moan as you pinch your lips together. Each swipe of his fingers has your sopping pussy walls clenching around nothing. “Tae…”

Your whimpered breath makes Taehyung happy. He leads the rolls of your hips against his fingers back and forth, relishing in every sensational pulse that flutters in your entrance when his fingers ghost over it. You need him to push inside of you, spread you open to prepare you for the heavy cock below your thighs. Every time you lean further to force his fingers to dip in, he’s laying his digits limp against you. Applying no pressure whatsoever, seizing any force to penetrate your walls.

The leaking arousal from your pussy has dribbled down Taehyung’s lengthy fingers. You can feel how drenched you are with how slick it is to glide against him. A small pool of pre-cum spills out of the tip of Taehyung’s aching cock, decorating a small spot on his abdomen.

“Let me fuck you,” you request as your hands reach for the hemline of your oversized night shirt. You discard the material fast, tossing it off to the side of the bed and exposing your breasts.

“Take these off too,” he pulls at your underwear. His deep, rich voice casts a spell on you, making you automatically listen without delay.

Still laying flat on his back, Taehyung grabs at your hips but not before groping your pert nipples. He enjoys the soft flesh of your mounds between his fingers, squeezes them nicely as they become pliant to his kneading.

Tentatively, you bend toward his face to give him a kiss that begins softly and doesn’t take long to deepen with lustful heat. The flavor of cigarettes linger on his mouth as well as alcohol.

You were cautious at first, knowing he has a wound on his lip – but Taehyung doesn’t care about the pain. He kisses you back with passion, eats you up as his hands roam from your hips, back to your breasts, and up to the back of your neck. He laces himself with you, licking into your mouth as you match his pace.

Muffled moans and noises escape the two of you as you begin to sit down on him. His cock twitches impatiently under you as your pussy lips hug the outsides of his silken length. Taehyung takes your hint and places his large palm flat against your back, pushing you closer to lean down against him.

You start a slow, hungry grind against him. Running yourself up and down him with no resistance. Taehyung groans a ‘yes’ with a deep growl, blunt nails digging into the skin of your waist now as he tries to prevent you from sliding against his cock. As if he’s halting the session.

“Let me,” you say again, molding your lips together with his. “Don’t you need this?” You battle his tongue with yours desperate for pleasure.

You’re too enticed with being held back, forcing your strong hips to move regardless of Taehyung’s hands. His delectable cock, now polished completely with your arousal, slides between your pussy lips so easily. You don’t even fathom the urgency in which you find yourself in, too turned on and consumed by the idea of Taehyung and gratifying him – you haven’t noticed the flex of his lower muscles matches as your body rolls.

His bulbous, hardened, cockhead suddenly and dangerously close to breaching your entrance in a millisecond as your body stiffening. Your weeping entrance begging to be stretched in the more desirable ways while your mouth gaps open, a small audible gasp caught in the back of your throat.

Being closer to him as you notice the few speckled freckles adorning his beautiful face. His jaw is cut sharp, angling his round face. His dark brown eyes stare down at you through thick long lashes as his tongue swipes out and coats his full lips. When your eyes lock onto each other, pupils blown out to smithereens, you feel the gravitational pull toward him. This magnetic field of two polar opposites being yanked to another because that’s where they’re meant to be.

Both of your hearts pump with anticipation, anxiousness. You wait, allowing Taehyung to take the lead in his hands and run with it. Drag you into the pits of sex and take control of the moment.

He pushes down on your thighs, telling you to lower yourself while he raises his hips to meet you. One of his hands guided his cock to your entrance, letting it slip right in and drag against your inner walls. Each inch you sink, the more Taehyung presses up. Stretching you open slowly, just enough to slot himself and let you to accommodate his size before he can take full charge. Subtle moments he pauses just to admire the pleasure in your face as you exchange breaths with another.

Your mouth gasps his name far too easily. You find purchase in his dark locks with your fingers, combing through them before you form tight fists.

“Fuck –” you exhale deeply. You already feel your pussy contracting with enthusiasm.

With your pelvis sat flush to the hilt, you experimentally wiggle in place while the burn of the stretch eases up. You’re moments from letting Taehyung do whatever he needs to do with you. He fills you up to the brim, packed and complete with little room to spare.

Taehyung breathes out a trembled laugh. “Let me know when,” he noses against the side of your head. You feel the way his fingers find a home on the sides of your waist, preparing to hold you tight when he begins to thrust.

You exhale out of your mouth, turning your head toward his cheek. You can feel both of your heartbeats blasting through your chests, pounding at their own rates as your bodies fill with sexual need. Your cunt squeezes to test his girth, feeling like you’re so close to being stretched to your limits.

“I’m going to cum soon,” you warn him. There’s no shame about it. With all the build up and light teasing of another, matched with the handsome bad boy laying under you – you don’t shame your body for being so ready. So needy for him. “I know I'll cum fast.”

“That’s ok, baby. I'll take good care of you.”

His mouth finds yours briefly, descending a trail of open wet kisses down your neck and nuzzling his nose into the crease. Leisurely, Taehyung pulls himself out of you, leaving just the tip of his cock still snug inside before sinking you onto him – but this time a bit harder.

You ease into the fast pace rhythm Taehyung sets. He even helps glide you at the perfect angle to rub your clit perfectly against his pubic bone in tandem. You moan sharply when his cock rails back into you, your cunt clenching tightly around him. Taehyung runs faster, using his feet to propel his hips off the mattress as he fucks up into you while his hands pull your hips down onto him. And repeat.

Your heighted moans fill the room, no care for any potential neighbors to hear at this hour. Taehyung’s teeth nip playfully on your supple skin, cooling over with the press of his lips as he quickened his pace.

“Tae!” You cry his name with the mixture of pleasure and pain. You love and hate it, especially when your body jolts every time his lap slams into you.

Briskly, Taehyung rolls the two of you over, keeping himself well connected as he holds himself up with his arms. He’s hoisting one of your legs over his shoulder to deepen his angle, pressing his cock straight to the back of your cunt in one fluid motion. You strangle a groan, hands fisting the pillows beside your head.

He leans closer to you as he continues to thrust into you. Every drag of his cock against your walls sends you closer and closer to your orgasm. Taehyung matches his assault with a new weapon, his thumb – directly onto the top of your clit. He flicks it ruthlessly, enjoying the way your body wriggles underneath him as you cry out in joy.

Again, you cry out his name when his cockhead presses against your cervix. Your chest heaves with the roughness. One look up at Taehyung’s beautiful face is all it takes for you to realize how deeply concentrated he is. How he painfully bites into his bottom lip with diligence as he’s fucking you. Your bodies slap together and you can feel arousal dripping down you and onto the bed below.

You feel like Taehyung loses himself in the rush of sex, he’s in a different mindset when he’s trying to fuck.

A few more thrusts of his hips and you’re warning him again, hands shooting out to touch his chest, his arms, his face.

“Ah! Tae!”

“Yeah?” He pants from above, never looking directly at you as he prefers to watch the way he disappears inside your cunt. His thumb runs rampage on your clit and your body visibly shakes from the sensation. “Are you going to cum around me?”

You feel your face burn hot at the question. Embarrassing or not, he knows exactly what is happening and calls you out on it.

Breathlessly, you nod your head with a whine. A quiet sob leaves your pretty lips as an all-consuming pleasure rushes through your entire being. Like raging rapids on a river, unpredictable and uncontrollable, your orgasm smacks into you in constant, erratic waves. Taehyung continues to dive his cock deep into you, battling you through the thrashing your body does from the sputtering joys going on inside.

His bangs now hang in front of his eyes, his mouth parted in awe as half a smirk creeps up on his face. His eyes never leave your wet cunt, greedily watching the way it spreads open for his cock to penetrate.

“That’s it, baby –” Taehyung straightens himself up. The new angle allows him to control the demanded amount of weight he desires behind each, juicy, thrust. You watch the way his stomach stretches and flexes as he thrusts into you. Beautiful, toned and tanned skin, showing off the edges of muscle that hides underneath it. “– Take this cock again.”

Your leg is hung around his shoulder as the other wraps around his thin waist. With each push of his hips into the back of your thighs your voice leaves your mouth. Every time the blunt head of his cock kisses your deepest parts, your sounds heighten.

“Sh-Shit!” You squeak.

Below, the bed groans with each punishable plunge. Taehyung’s urgency is there, his pace never faltering – not for a second. His hand snakes up your chest to your neck, fingers steadily curling around before squeezing. Taehyung watches for your reaction, any disgruntled noise or signs of discomfort. But nothing resembles that from the way your eyes flutter shut and your open mouth turns into an upturned smile.

The pressure of Taehyung’s fingers tighten the closer he draws near his orgasm. Your mouth gasps open from the pressure of Taehyung’s digits compressing against the sides of your neck, hips jutting straight into you with a sharp thrust. You let out a choked groan, but it’s blocked from vocalizing it fully.

Heat swarms the two of your bodies, it’s disgustingly hot and sticky but it makes it feel all the dirtier. Sweat forms on the areas you least care for as you swallow thickly. Taehyung choking you evidently makes you feel light headed, but it’s something that has always turned you on.

Taehyung’s eyes flicker up to you, he must have sensed some discomfort as he releases the hold on your neck only slightly. The fresh air that travels through your airways feels generous, a gift from Taehyung. He leans down, bending your body with him as he pistons his cock into your cunt.

A tender kiss surprises you, draws you back to him while his palm still presses against the column of your neck. His powerful thrusts become more precise, slow but hard. Your walls clamp down hard on him. Each melodic moan rings desperately in his ears; your begging words call for him to cum.

“P-Please cum,” you whisper.

“Shit – gah!” Taehyung grunts into your shoulder, arms propping around you to anchor himself as he is sent into overdrive. Your leg is hoisted up, displaying your pussy fully to him as he thrusts into you from above.

You hear his choked moans as his thrusts turn sloppy. The squelching between the two of you is dirty, slippery liquid allowing you two to fuck so effortlessly.

Suddenly, Taehyung pulls out. Leaving you empty too fast for your liking. His cock slides between your cream-slicked lips while he cries your name. Chanting it like a mantra. While warm ropes of white cum dress your stomach. Like a beaded pearl chain. Taehyung empties his entire release on you, spilling his seed as it spurts out of his cock head as he continues to pin you down.

It takes a moment for the two of you to calm down. Taehyung frees your leg when he moves off of you, sitting back on his heels as his dick softens. There’s a moment of silence as he contemplates his next action.

“Can I… stay here?”

You lean up, ignoring the drizzle of cum dressing your stomach and tits and shift your body closer to Taehyung.

You raise your hand to his face again, eyes wandering the scraps that cut into his skin. “Yes, you can. But please tell me what happened to you.”

“I can’t,” he grumbles to himself. You sense his dejection as he begins moving off the bed, searching the floor for his discarded clothes.

“Tae, please,” you plead as your hand catches his wrist. You pull him back to you with a desperate whine, “Don’t do this! Don’t run away! Tell me what you can tell me.”

His downcast eyes never look up at you even when you pull his face toward you. “You don’t have to leave… Just stay here and let me clean you up,” you attempt to reason with him. “You look exhausted.”

“Y/n,” he cuts you off. “I can’t let you know.”

“Promise me you won’t disappear again.”

Your voice cracks in the middle of your sentence from the hoarseness of your throat. You show signs of weakness, hurt. Taehyung catches on and his wide eyes finally glance up to yours. He knows you’re hurting on the inside. You try so hard to get in, but there is a wall Taehyung has built to keep you away.

“Y/n –”

You press your lips onto his again, giving him no chance to speak. All your love, all those pent up feelings buried deep inside you comes pouring out in this kiss. You hope he knows that seeing him hurt and torn also affects you. How your heart has room for him and it fills with pain whenever he’s gone.

He reciprocates your passionate kiss until it melts into a sweet, tenderized one. Where you can feel the heat of the cut on the bottom of his lip against yours and taste the sadness he emits.

You whisper softly as you slowly pull away from him, hands holding his cheeks delicately. “Stay here. I’m not trying to scare you, I just…”

Taehyung lifts his hands to grab yours, intertwining his fingers to hold your hands. He breathes slowly, eyes closing in defeat. It’s the least he can give you.

“I’ll stay.”

moodboard credit: @kth1

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