#like I sat there with my finger over the button for like a minute before deciding not to

[oreolemur]

Second Base- Gojo Fanfic

Sitting down at an Italian restaurant, you waited patiently for your blind date to show up. “I hope she picked a decent guy this time”, you sigh. Scrolling through your phone for a few minutes, the waiter comes over. “Would you like something to drink, mam?”, the guy asked. Ordering a glass of water, you scarfed down a breadstick or two as you took in the building’s surroundings. “At least she picked a good spot”.

15 minutes go by, and you begin to grow impatient. “Is this supposed to be a set up? Am I getting played right now?”. In the middle of texting your friend, you suddenly see a man standing beside you from your peripheral vision. Clearing his throat, “Sorry I’m late”, he smiled. Averting your eyes towards the man, you were jaw-dropped by how beautiful he was. “Woah…”, you whisper. Wearing a light blue button up, and black tuxedo pants, you couldn’t help but stare at his shiny blue eyes, and gorgeous white locks. 

Taking a seat in front of you, “By the end of this date, I'll have you screaming my name", the man grinned. "Just you wait". Surprised by his comment, you scoffed. “Nope”. “Oh my, someone's feisty! What's your name?”, he asked. “Y/N, and you?”. “Gojo Satoru”. Giving you a cocky grin, you furrowed your eyebrows. “What exactly did you mean by, “I’ll have you screaming my name”,?”, you questioned. “You'll see soon enough, won't you?”, Gojo replied.  “I don’t know. Will I? Maybe I’ll just ditch you right now and call it a night”. “You wouldn't dare", Satoru scoffed. A smirk spread across his face. "Besides, I've got so many surprises planned for tonight”.  Looking at him speechless, you grabbed one of the menus off the table, ready to order. 

"You do realize that there's another meaning to 'screaming someone's name'?" Satoru chuckled, leaning in and whispering in a suggestive manner. "A much more fun sense”. Rolling your eyes, you shove a bread stick into his mouth, "In your dreams". "Oh, I think you'll be changing your tune by the end of tonight" Satoru teased, his eyes roaming across the table to study you. "You're so cute when you're mad", he muttered just loud enough to make you question if it was intentional.

Ignoring him, you signal the waiter over. "I'll have the chicken Florentine". "Excellent choice", Satoru beamed with pride. "I'll have the spaghetti", he chimed in, not looking at the menu even once. Asking what the two of you would like to drink, Gojo smiled. "I'll have a glass of Merlot", he requested the waiter. Turning back to you, he smirked. The corners of his lips curled up as he watched you. "How about you?". “Red wine”, you replied. The waiter nodded and took the order. 

Gojo waited until he was out of sight before leaning over the table to whisper to you. "You know, you've got really nice skin. I wonder how soft it is...". Sticking out your hand, you let Satoru feel how soft you were. The man took your hand and ran his fingers over your skin in a teasing manner."This is incredibly soft", He whispered. "I'm sure some other parts of your body are soft too...".  “I’m sure there is”, you teased back. "Well, I intend to find out", he smirked. 

The waiter eventually returned with the drinks, setting them down on the table and leaving. As he was walking away, Gojo stood up, stretching. "Would you like to come to my place after this?", He asked, a sly look on his face. "The night isn't over yet". "After we eat...maybe", you reply back. "I can live with that", Satoru teased. As he sat back down, the waiter arrived with the meals. He waited until the guy left to speak again. "This is going to be an unforgettable night." His voice was low and husky, his eyes wandering all over your body. "Especially when we get back to my place”. Making a toast to each other, the two of you sat at the restaurant for another hour, exchanging jokes.

"Well, that was good", you exclaim, standing up. "Where to now? Your place seems nice ",  you wink at him. Satoru chuckled at your comment, standing up and offering his hand. "Let's get going then. I hope you didn't forget what you promised me”. He started to walk out of the restaurant. "I can tell that you're eager to see my private domain”. "Eager? No. I'm just ready to lay back and be treated with care"."Oh, I could do much more than just treat you with care. I can be everything you want me to be at this moment. You can forget about the real world; I want to be the center of your universe”. He turned to face you, a grin plastered on his face."So come with me. Let's go see what it's like in my world”.

Hopping into the man's car, you noticed him staring at you from the corner of your eye. "Yes?". "Just admiring the view," Satoru chuckled. He continued the drive, glancing over at you every once in a while to study your expression. The atmosphere was filled with an intense tension and Gojo seemed to be enjoying making you squirm with anticipation. After a couple minutes of this, he eventually parked the car, getting up and heading around to your side to open your door. "After you", he smiled. “Thanks”

The two of you made your way into his house, leading you upstairs. The moment you were there, it was abundantly clear what his intentions were. He gently pushed you down onto the bed, looming over you like a predator. Staring into your soul, you felt yourself become hypnotized by his shiny blue eyes. “Hurry up and kiss me”, you blush. “Impatient much?”, Satoru chuckled. Gently grabbing your face, he smashed his lips onto yours. “His lips taste so sweet”, you thought. 

While making out, the man began to unbutton his shirt. “Need help getting undressed?”, you ask, pulling away from the kiss. “Sure, why not?”. Getting off , he stood in front of you as you were sitting on the edge of his bed. “You look even more beautiful down there”, Gojo commented. Undoing his pants, you pulled them down along with his boxers. “Damn”. Staring at his pretty veiny cock, your mouth watered. “Is there a problem?”, he wondered. Shaking your head, “N-no”. Hearing you stutter a little, Satoru admired it. 

Holding his shaft, you stroked it a little. “It feels so big in my hands”. Looking up at him, you saw him blushing as he kept eye contact with you. “Why is he so pretty?”. Averting your attention on his dick, you opened your mouth, sucking his tip. “Mmph”, the man moaned. Listening to his enjoyment, you tightened your mouth around him as you slowly went down his dick. “Fuck”, he seethed. Bobbing your head, you felt him run his fingers through your scalp. Gripping your hair, he began to gently thrust into your mouth.  

Feeling his tip hit the back of your throat, you found it hard to breathe. You tapped his thighs, signaling him to stop. “What’s wrong?”, he asked. Having a line of spit come out of your mouth, you licked your lips. “You’re too big to go all in”, you complained. Rubbing your head, the man smiled. “Well that’s too bad”, he said. “But, I’m not finished yet”. Shoving you back down his cock, you held onto his waist for support. He fucked your throat, using it as his little toy, while he worked to get his orgasm. “I can’t believe he just did that”, you said to yourself. “It’s like he doesn’t even care that I can’t breathe…that’s….so…hot”. 

A few minutes later, Gojo’s thrusts became sloppy and slow as his moaning became more high pitched. Without warning he came into your mouth, filling it with his sweet warm liquid. “Oh..”, he paused. “You’re a swallower”. Making sure to get every last drop, you wiped your index finger around your mouth, collecting any cum that leaked out. “I am full of surprises after all”, you smirked, giving his cock a small peck.

Gojo stared at you with lust, he felt as if he’d found a suitable partner to fulfill his needs. “Take off your clothes and lay down”, he ordered. Doing what he wants, the man watched you get naked. “You have a beautiful body”. Spreading your legs open, he got down on his knees. “Everything is so natural, it’s exciting”. He squeezed your inner thighs, teasing his way up to your cunt. Being sensitive in that spot, you squirmed around a little. “I haven’t even gotten to the best part yet, and you’re already starting to act up”. 

Placing his hand on your pussy, he spread your lips apart, seeing your fluids drip down onto his comforter. He slowly licked your wet folds, making his way to your clit. Once there, he drew circles with his tongue, sucking your sensitive bud in and out as he repeated the pattern. “Satoru..”, you moaned, pulling his hair. Giving in to your adorable whimpers, he started to  finger you. “You’re tight, darling”, he smiled. Having him pleasure you two different ways at the same time, drove you crazy. 

You pulled his hair tighter, trying to move his head away from your clit. “I’m cumming. I’m-”. Letting out the biggest moan, tears formed in your eyes, realizing he wasn’t stopping. “I should’ve warned you that I’m into overstimulation”. Trying to move away from him, he dug his nails into your plumped thighs. “I-I can’t take it”. Reaching for a pillow, you screamed into it as you felt another orgasm come. “Mmmmm!!”. Feeling satisfied, Gojo moved away from your cunt. 

Grabbing a napkin, he wiped his face from the fluid you squirted onto him. “Now”, he smiled, walking over to you. “Let’s finish this”. Taking hold of your waist, he flipped you over on your stomach, forcing you to arch your back. He slapped your ass. “Ouch”, you whined. Laughing at you, he rubbed his cock on your pussy. “Don’t tease me like that”, you whined. 

Shushing you, he slowly thrusted his tip into you, stretching your walls little by little. “Sex shouldn’t be rushed”. Burying your face into the mattress, you tried your best to take him. He was gentle with you, knowing how tight you were. “Are you used to it yet?”, he asked. “N-no”, you whimpered. Feeling devious, he grinned. “Let’s try this”. Shoving his cock in all the way, you gasped. “Gojo!”. “There it is”, he laughed. 

Fucking you mercilessly, he slammed his hips into you hard, hitting your cervix. “Nngh”. You held onto his comforter, handling him with what little tolerance you had left. “Sa…to…ru”, you called out. “Yes?”, he grinned. Not being able to speak anymore, you tried to reach behind in an attempt to stop him. “Aht aht”, he smacked your hand away. “I’m not done”.  Changing positions, he pushed your body down, turning you on your back.

Laying there weak and vulnerable, Gojo scooted you up the bed. “Are you done now? I’m too sensitive to continue”. Crawling on top of you, he leaned into your face. “Oh really?”. Going for your neck, he kissed it gently, before marking you up with his teeth. “Ah”, you winced, placing your hand around his throat. “Squeeze it”, he blushed. “You’re into choking?”. Nodding his head, “Yes”. Putting you on top of him, he lifted you up a little to slide his cock inside you. “How did you do that so fast?!”. Grabbing your hand, he placed it on his neck. “Less talk, more fuck”. 

Proceeding to choke him, he let out a small whimper. “My god…is there anything he’s not good at!”. Grinding your hips, you went slow. “Ow, he's deeper than ever”. Trying to go a little faster, you started to feel more pleasure than pain. “Is this okay?”, you asked. “Nope”. He gripped your waist, thrusting upwards, making you scream again. “Fuck!”, you squealed.

With him taking control over you, you didn’t notice how hard you were choking him. “Almost…there”, Gojo groaned. He flipped you over again, this time being on top. “That was good, but not good enough to make me cum”, he said, gasping for air. Satoru put both of your legs over his shoulder, fucking you even harder than before. “Shit!”. His headboard banged against the wall, causing the bed to squeak.  Finishing up, you both climaxed together, moaning each other's ears. “My, my, my”, Gojo huffed. “I should buy a ring”. 

#jjk smut #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader #gojo smut

[fandoms-writings]

Now or Never

Pairing: Best-Friend!Bucky x Virgin!Reader (fem intended)

Word Count: 6.2K (it was supposed to be a drabble oops)

Summary: Based off the prompts "You know my door is always open for you, right?" and "You're already wet sweetheart." for my milestone event, requested by nonnie.

Warnings: SMUT 18+ ONLY, mentions of a bad date, explicit p in v sex, oral (male receiving), fingering, swearing, bucky talks a lot in bed, weed and alcohol consumption. (if I missed any, please let me know)

A/N: thank you so so much to @bucksangel and @itistimeforusalltodecidewhoweare for beta reading for me, i love you both so so much.

Masterpost || Bucky Masterlist

You sat in your car, frustration and disappointment rolling off of you in waves. 

Another bad date, another guy just obsessed with hearing himself talk and not once allowing you to get a word in. That topped with how he called you a prude at the end left the worst taste in your mouth. 

You didn't want to go home to your empty apartment, already sick of the silence filling your car, so you scrolled through your contacts, thinking who would be up for hanging out with so little notice. 

Your lip found its way between your teeth as you passed your best friend's name. You weren't sure if he'd be busy or not, or if he'd be in the mood to hang out, but seeing him would help your mood. Plus. . . you blanched at the image that clouded your mind. Maybe he could help with your little problem - if you had the guts to even ask. 

You pressed the dial button before you could talk yourself out of it, waiting for him to pick up as you chewed on your nail.

Just when you were about to hang up, giving up for the night, the tone clicked and his voice filtered through the speaker. 

"Hey Peach," His voice was gruff and you could feel some of your frustration ebbing away already, "What's going on?" 

"Hey, Buck," You sighed, "Are you busy?" 

"Not currently, why?" 

"Can I come over for a minute?"

"Aren't you supposed to be on a date?" He chuckled. You could hear him shuffling through what you assumed was his kitchen, the opening and closing of cupboards sounding through the little speaker. 

"I was." You didn't give him anymore than that, and he was only silent for a small moment before he hummed. 

"Alright, get your cute butt over here so you can tell me all about it," He ordered and you couldn't help the heat that grew in your skin at the compliment. "Want me to pack a bowl too?" 

You giggled at that before agreeing. "After today, please. I'll pay you back for it." 

"How many times do I gotta tell you not to worry about that?" He laughed, "Now get over here. Drive safe." 

"I will." You hung up the phone with a sigh before starting your car and heading over to his place, but not before stopping and picking up a bottle of wine on the way. 

It wasn't long before you were hiking up the steps to the house he rented. It was small, and not in the best neighborhood, but he didn't have to worry about sharing walls with anyone else and it was bigger than your apartment, so you didn't mind. Plus, you knew he'd never let anything happen to you. 

He pulled open the door before you had a chance to knock, giving you a grin that was equally empathetic as it was smug. He liked to relish in the fact that he always knew guys weren't going to be good enough for you, telling you before every date you went on that it'd be a waste of time. 

But that didn't mean that he was happy you weren't having a good time. 

"Come on," He reached his hand out for you, "Let's get you giggly again." 

You chuckled at that before landing the bottle of wine in his outstretched hand, the raise of his eye brows pulling up the corners of your lips. 

"Super giggly is the goal then." He stepped away from the door, letting you in before closing and locking it behind you. 

"You sure you don't mind me dropping by this late?" 

He scoffed at that, leading the way to his kitchen and pulling out two wine glasses, "You know my door is always open for you, right?"

You shrugged, "I know that, but still, you can always tell me no." 

"Now, Peach, why would I do that? I'm not going to say no to hanging out with my favorite person." Heat spread through your skin again at his words, and the teasing wink he threw your way. 

You didn't mind that he flirted with you, whether flirting was his intention or not, you weren't quite sure. But either way, it made you feel somewhat seen. Liked. 

"I thought Steve was your favorite person," You lifted yourself onto his countertop, hissing at the cold that met your thighs. You cursed the version of yourself that decided shorts were a good idea.  "It'd be a shame if he heard that wasn't true." 

"He knows where he stands with me, don't worry." He handed you a poured glass, clinking his own against it before leaning against the opposite counter. "Now, do you want to tell me what happened now, or do you want to smoke first?" 

You chuckled at that, taking a sip of your wine, "How about I tell you while we smoke, then by the time we're good and high, I don't have to think about it anymore?" 

He gave you one of his little grins, nodding his head. "You got it." 

You followed him outside, getting comfortable in the large papasan chair as he plugged in the string of lights hung over the small porch. He got comfortable in his seat before offering you the bong and a lighter, letting you take the first drag. 

It didn't take long to fill Bucky in on what had transpired on your date. How Mark didn't even try to act interested in anything you had to say. How he'd made you meet him at the restaurant instead of offering to pick you up, which in the end ended up being a silver lining because you didn't have to ask him to drive you home. 

You'd gotten to the part where your date had called you a prude and what you'd told him to cause that comment, and the words caught in your throat. You'd never told Bucky you were a virgin, not that it mattered, you knew he wouldn't judge you for it. It was just something that never came up. 

Maybe it was what happened tonight, the comments and the way your date acted afterwards, that made you not want to tell him. Or maybe it was the pity in his eyes that had grown since you'd started your story. Or. . . or it could've been the rather not small bit of your heart that belonged to him already that stopped you. If others didn't like that you were a virgin in your twenties, and didn't want to be with someone so inexperienced, why would he?

He caught on to your hesitation, setting the bong down as he turned to face you with his brows pulled forward. 

"What happened?" He asked, and you looked to your lap, pulling your feet under you and wrapping your sweater around you. 

You could tell him, you knew he wouldn't judge you, wouldn't tease you for it. You knew that, so why was it so hard to tell him when you told anyone else without a care in the world? You sighed, barely meeting his gaze. 

"Promise me you won't judge me?" You whispered and he leaned forward. 

"I'd never judge you for anything. I promise." 

You nodded, more to yourself in reassurance to let the words out. "The only thing he either heard me say about myself, or that he decided to pay attention to, was the fact that I'm a virgin," You refused to meet Bucky's gaze as he went still, "That seemed to get his attention because then he started assuming I was going home with him after he pretty much ignored me all night. Like I was some prize to be won. A trophy."

You took a breath taking a small glance at Bucky to see his eyes trained on your face, but no emotion peaking through his features other than his fists clenched in his lap, knuckles white. 

"When I told him I was just gonna go home, his attitude shifted again and he proceeded to call me a selfish prude." The words rang in your head again, his mocking tone clear in your ears before you forced yourself to push it out. 

Bucky still hadn't said anything, his red eyes locked on your form, tucked into your chair as you reached for your wine glass. It wasn't until you'd taken a lengthy sip and had the cup nestled in your hands in your lap that he spoke up. 

"You deserve better than that," He started, "And I'm sorry that he treated you like that, Peach." 

Looking over to him, you saw the sincerity in his eyes, the heaviness in them as he refused to look away. You shrugged mumbling that it's fine before looking down to your wine glass again. "I don't really want to dwell on it." 

"Okay," He angled his head to catch your eye, giving you a soft smile. "You just let me know when you want me to kick this guy's ass and consider it done." 

You laughed at that, clutching your glass in your lap so it didn't fall. He smirked at you, seemingly pleased with himself for getting you to laugh as he leaned back in his chair. 

"Can I ask you something?" He asked after a moment. 

Your focus zeroed in on him, his arm thrown over the curved back of his chair, one of his legs folded under the other, his free hand resting on his thigh as he studied you. You swallowed around the dryness in your mouth and nodded. 

"Is there a. . .  specific reason you're still a virgin?" He asked. You could tell he wasn't trying to make you uncomfortable, he was genuinely curious. 

"I guess I was scared at first," You started, remembering how you felt in high school when your best friend told you about how she'd lost her virginity. The idea always seemed daunting, like it was something you were supposed to do to 'become an adult.' But it was intimidating. "I didn't want to force it, wanted it to be something natural, I guess." 

"And you haven't had anyone to give you that chance?" 

You stilled for a second, shaking your head. 

He hummed, at your silence, or your answer, you couldn't tell, but he fell quiet after that, staring at the trees in the yard. 

You finished your glass of wine and set it aside, you fingers beginning to slightly numb in the cold before you tucked them into your legs, your mind starting to get fuzzy. You couldn't tell if it was the wine or the weed starting to kick in that made you ask, "Is it a bad thing?" 

He whipped his head towards you, his brows pulled together in confusion. "Being a virgin?" At your tentative nod, his face softened and he shook his head, "Not at all." 

"Then why do people act like the guy tonight whenever they find out?" You muttered and he sighed, shifting so that he was leaning his elbows on his knees. 

"Maybe it's intimidating, being someone's first." 

Your eyes refused to leave his, your nerves starting to warm as you asked, "What about you?" You asked, readjusting in your seat to angle yourself more towards him, "Would you be intimidated?" 

He simply stared at you for a moment before shaking his head, "No." There was something about the way he said it, the roughness of his voice and the confidence in his short answer, that had you trying to subtly clench your thighs together. 

You hated to admit it, but you'd thought about it before. Hell, you thought about it on the way over.  About sleeping with him. About his rough hands on your skin, what it would feel like to have his lips on yours, his fingers in -

"You okay?" His voice snapped you out of your thoughts, and you looked back to him, heat rising up the back of your neck. You went to tell him you were fine, that you just wanted to get a drink, maybe watch a movie, but a voice in the back of your head grew too loud to ignore. "Peach?" 

The voice told you to ask him for it. To ask him to be your first. You trusted him with your life, you'd trust him with taking your virginity too. You know you would. But you couldn't ask that. What if he said no? What if he was mortified? It wasn't something you could just tell him to pretend you didn't ask for, that's not how that worked. 

He was still staring at you, allowing you to have as long as you needed before you told him whatever it was that was going through your head. 

Now or never, the voice reminded you, and you took a breath, steeling yourself for the inevitable rejection you felt you knew he was going to give you. 

"I'm over it," You muttered, and before he could ask what you were talking about, "I don't want to be a virgin anymore." He watched you, unsure if you were finished speaking yet, but when the words died on your tongue, he nodded. 

"Okay," His voice was rough and hoarse and dangerously quiet as he waited to hear what you wanted to do about what you'd said. 

"I trust you," You whispered, "More than anyone." His eyes widened just a fraction as you stared at him. Your hands gripped your legs as you mustered up just enough courage to get the words out, "Would. . . would you be my first?" 

 The confusion fell from his face, concern taking its place. He cleared his throat and his voice was dangerously low, “Is this the wine talking?” 

Your heart fell, you knew you shouldn’t have asked. You knew. Yet you asked anyway. You let out a shaky breath, moving to stand. “I shouldn’t have asked, forget about it.” You stood, moving to pick up what needed to go inside when his hand grasped yours. 

“That’s not. . .” He started and you turned to him,  he was on the edge of his seat, eyes wide as he stared up at you, “I mean is that something you truly want? It’s not just the wine?”

You took a moment to look at him, to really look. You’ve held his stare so many times before, but you’d never seen the look in his eyes that was there now. Like it was taking everything in him not to jump up and do what you’d asked. 

Like he — like he wanted it just as much as you did. 

You faced him completely, placing yourself between his knees and resting your hands on his shoulders, his hands falling to wrap around the backs of your thighs. 

“I just don’t want you to regret asking me,” he muttered, his fingers drawing patterns across the backs of your legs, “I don’t want you regretting me.” 

Your hands settled at the sides of his neck, the stubble on his chin scraping against your thumbs as you pushed to angle his head up to you again. You leaned down, your nose brushing against his as your breaths mingled between you. 

“Bucky. . . " You started, but he shook his head. 

"Wait," It was a gasp, like he was fighting himself, "You need to know that if you let me have you," he looked up at you and you were finally able to see how his pupils had blown, the blue of his eyes almost completely swallowed, "I don't plan on letting you go. Ever." 

Your body froze in his hold, his fingers tightening on your legs. "What are you saying?" 

His eyes softened on you and a small, nervous smile grew on his lips, "That I've wanted you since we met, but didn't want to scare you off." He tugged on your legs, pulling you into his lap, your knees landing on either side of his hips. His hands moved up to your lower back, his thumbs barely moving under your shirt, but stopping before he went any further. "I've been pining after you for years." 

It was like you were snapped back to reality, the raspiness in his voice and his calloused fingers brushing against your skin bringing you back from your stupor. But there were no words to convey how you felt, at least not any you could form at the moment. The only thing your brain and your heart were telling you, was to press your lips against his. 

So you did.

His fingers tightened against your back, pressing you into his chest as his lips moved in tandem with yours. It was slow at first, the soft nips to your bottom lip and the way his tongue hesitantly slid across your bottom lip. Your lips parted and the second your tongue met his, a groan rumbled through his chest, his hands sliding up your back under your shirt. Your hips ground down of their own accord and he swallowed the whine you let out as your core was met with the growing bulge under his jeans. 

Time seemed to slow, and by the time you pulled back panting, eyes locked on his, you weren't sure how long you'd been there. But by the way your heart was soaring, you knew you didn't want to be anywhere else, ever again. 

"We should go inside," he whispered, bringing up one of his hands to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing against your swollen lips. "I don't want the neighbors hearing you." 

~~~

You two didn't last long apart once you pried yourself from his lap. The second you both set everything on the counter inside, his hands found their way to your skin again, pushing up the back of your shirt as he pulled you flush with his chest, his feet guiding you to his bedroom. 

The edge of his bed met the backs of your knees, and he gently pushed you back, crawling up with you as you nudged your way up to his pillows. His lips attached to your neck, gently biting where it met your shoulder, his breath fanning against your skin and sending shivers down your spine. 

"I'll take good care of you," He breathed, pulling back to look at you, "I promise." 

You nodded, reaching around to shove his shirt up his back, "I know, I trust you." He smiled at you before pushing your shirt up, over your head and your arms. and dropping his head and dragging his lips across every inch of skin he could reach. 

 "Arch your back for me?" He asked, only lifting his lips enough to get the words out before they went back to nipping at your skin. You did as he asked, his fingers slipping through the clasp on your bra and undoing it. He helped you out of it, sitting up to pull it up from your arms and throwing it to the side to join your shirt. 

You looked up to find his eyes locked on you and you couldn't help the sudden nervousness rise in your chest as he stared at you. His hands caught your arms trying to move to cover your breasts and he shook his head. 

"Don't hide," He said, "You're fucking gorgeous." 

You giggled, the butterflies in your stomach from his words mixed with the substances in your system making it impossible to fight it off and he smiled down at you. 

"There she is," He whispered, "God, I love your laugh." 

"Heavy with the compliments tonight aren't you?" You breathily asked, the heat in your skin rising as he removed his shirt, his muscled chest seemingly glowing in the warm hue of the lights. 

"I've been waiting to give you some very specific compliments," He leaned over you, "So you better get used to it." 

His lips captured yours again as his hands trailed down your stomach, his fingers gently pushing at the waistband of your shorts. 

"Can I?" He asked, his fingers stopping. 

"Please." 

He chuckled at the eagerness in your voice before he pulled away and helped you out of your shorts, pulling your panties with them. He dragged his fingers down your hips and your thighs as he took you in. You could see his chest rising and falling at an uneven pace before he looked up at you. 

"You're already wet sweetheart," He rasped, "Can I play with you?" 

The fact that you were bare before him and he was still asking for permission sent even more heat to your core and you could feel yourself clench around nothing as your breath hitched in your throat. You nodded sitting up on your elbows to meet his lowering mouth with your own, earning a moan from him as you dragged your teeth along his bottom lip. 

His fingers were sure in their movements as they met your folds, brushing up to circle around your clit before sliding back down to circle around your entrance, your hips bucking into his touch. He pulled his mouth away as he slowly slid a finger in, pressing the palm of his hand down into your clit. 

"Oh I love this," He said, his head dropping down, taking one of your nipples into his mouth, lightly dragging his teeth across it before swirling his tongue around it. He pumped his finger a few times before slowly adding a second, and growling into your skin as your fingers threaded through his hair, pulling at the strands, his fingers curling up, like he was searching for something. 

"What?" It came out as a breath, but you couldn't bring yourself to speak any louder as you tried to keep the noises that built in your chest to a minimum. You knew they were normal, but you didn't want to seem as desperate as you really felt. 

"I love that no one else has had the pleasure of seeing you like this, that no one has touched you," He said the words into your skin, his lips brushing against your nipple as he spoke and grinning when his fingers brushed against a certain spot. 

"Shit - Do that again," the request broke through your lips in a whine, but you were too focused on him to notice. He grinned, curling his fingers into that spot again, pulling another wail from your throat. 

 "I love that no one's been inside you, that they don't get to have you," He angled his fingers to brush against that spongy spot over and over as he pumped them in and out, "But I do." 

He kept his fingers pace agonizingly slow, to not drive you over the edge so quickly but you couldn't help the movement of your hips trying to get more friction. His other hand came up to your chest, gently pushing you down so you were comfortable. 

"I'll go slow at first," He started, his fingers slowing even more, if that was possible, "Let you get used to it - to me, before I ruin you," His fingers began to spread, pushing your walls apart as they dragged across them before coming to a halt. "Do you know the traffic light system?" He asked, and at your nod he grinned, "Tell me." 

You swallowed around the breath catching in your throat, "Red is stop, green is go, yellow is slow down." His smile grew. 

"Perfect, I don't want to do anything you're not comfortable with, so you use that if you need to, alright?" When you nodded, he went back to pumping his fingers in and out of your cunt, noticing you practically biting through your lip to keep quiet and he tsked, his free hand moving to pull it from your teeth, "Let me hear you, Peach." 

The second you let your lip go, a lewd moan filled the air. You went to bite your lip again, to hide the noises that were waiting to get out, and Bucky shook his head as his thumb found its way to your tongue, softly pressing down to keep your mouth open. 

"Don't hide those noises from me," He practically begged, "I need to hear you." It was the tone of desperation that took over his calm confidence that had you nodding, promising not to hide anymore. "Is there anything you want to do?"

"What do you mean?" You breathed, trying to hone your focus on him. 

"Well, it's your first time," He started, pushing his fingers as far as he could and smiling at the moan you let out, "Was there anything you wanted to try?" 

You thought back to the times you shamefully allowed yourself to fantasize about him. How he'd feel on top of you, in you. How his hips would feel driving into yours, the fullness you'd finally experience. How the weight of him would feel against your tongue. 

You felt your skin get hot as you looked up at him, trying not to cover yourself with how self conscious you suddenly felt. But when your eyes met his, all you saw was patience and adoration as he watched you, so you swallowed down your nerves. 

"I want to taste you," You muttered and he groaned, his fingers stilling in you, "and ride you." 

"Shit," He smiled at you, "You're really not that innocent are you?" 

He pulled his fingers free of you before you could answer, and you whined at the now empty feeling in between your legs, a whine that dragged on longer as you watched him lift his fingers to his mouth. His eyes rolled back and he moaned as he tasted you. 

"Fuck," he groaned, "I knew you'd taste good." 

He pulled his body up from yours, ridding himself of the last of his clothes, and you couldn't help but look down, eyeing the length of his cock as it stood at attention. Unable to stop yourself from reaching out, your fingers brushed against the underside and the shiver that clearly ran up Bucky's spine gave you a boost of confidence. 

You crawled across the bed to where he stood at the end, fighting the nerves that were tingling through every part of you as you slid to the floor in front of him. The carpet dug into your knees as you kneeled, looking up at him through your lashes. His hand came down to trace your cheek before cupping it. 

"You don't have to if you don't want to," He said and you smiled. 

"I know, I want to." You eyed him before moving your hand to grip him at the base, holding him still while you dragged your tongue up the underside of his cock before wrapping your lips around the head, the taste of his skin and the precum leaking from the tip flooding your tongue. 

"Oh, fuck," He gasped and his hips stuttered, pushing himself past your lips just a bit before he caught himself and pulled back. "Shit - sorry."

Instead of pulling your mouth off of him, you looked up at him and hummed before taking him further, watching his eyes flutter closed and roll back as your tongue slid along his length. His fingers twitched at his sides like they were reaching for you but he was fighting himself. You reached up with your free hand and pulled his grasping fingers towards the top of your head where they hesitantly laced into your hair. 

He breathed a heavy sigh as he gently tugged on your hair, the whine you let out around him causing his hips to jolt again. 

"Fuck, Peach," He rasped, his voice hoarse as he looked down at you. The sound of his voice and the way he looked at you alone was enough to have you clenching around nothing, but what he said next was what got to your head, sending you into a type of haze you'd never experienced before. "Unless you want me to fuck your pretty face, you gotta stop doing that." 

 Your free hand reached around his thigh, gripping it as you hummed again, the vibrations clearly running through every one of Bucky's nerves as he shuddered. 

"Is that what you want?" He asked, a cocky grin growing on his lips as he looked down at you, your head bobbing, "You want me to fuck your pretty mouth before I fuck that pretty pussy?" 

A high pitched whine rumbled in your throat and his hips bucked forward, his hand in your hair pulling your head forward. He was gentle with it, only pushing himself so far back in your mouth, doing his best not to make you gag, all the while a string of curses and compliments showered you as your eyes watered and a mix of your spit and his precum had started to slide down your chin. 

He pulled your head back, pulling himself from your mouth, the stiffness in your jaw a welcome sensation when accompanied by the heavy look in his eyes. He took your hand in his, helping you move back to the bed and settling in between your legs as he kissed his way down the side of your neck, his hand wrapping around the other side. His teeth grazed your skin, sending chills through your spine as you reached around to grip at his back. 

Pulling his head from your neck, his voice just above a whisper as he asked, "Are you ready?" You nodded, but he shook his head, "I need to hear you say it, baby, you gotta tell me." A bloom of warmth spread through your chest at the care exuding from the furrow in his brows. 

You wrapped your hands around the sides of his head, your thumbs brushing along the lines of his jaw, "Fuck me, Bucky," You whispered, "please." He nodded before capturing your mouth with his once before sitting up a bit and reaching over to his nightstand, his hand coming back with a condom and a small bottle of what you assumed was lube. 

Once he had the condom on, he popped open the cap of the lube, pouring some in his hand and spreading it over himself, then getting a bit more and looking at you. "It's a little cold, but it's gonna help, I promise." 

"Okay," You nodded and braced yourself for the chill that came when his fingers rubbed the lube through your folds, your skin sensitive to his calloused skin. 

"Spread your legs baby," he watched your legs open for him, "that's it. . . wider." Your legs spread as far as you could, "Such a good girl all spread out for me." He smiled before lining the head of his cock up with your dripping entrance, slowly pushing in with a hiss. 

The stretch burned and your hands shot to cling to his arms, your nails leaving crescent shaped indents in his skin. His eyes locked with yours, "Breathe baby, breathe," He strained, "I'm right here." You let loose a tight breath through your nose as you held his gaze. He kept pushing in, taking his time until he was all the way in, a strange type of fullness taking over you - an addicting kind. 

He dragged his fingers across your skin, kneading the muscles in your hips, legs, and arms as he waited for you to adjust, talking you through it with a whole array of compliments. When the burn from the stretch turned into a need for him to move, you shifted your hips and loosed a moan when the head of his cock brushed against that same spot his fingers had expertly found earlier. 

A breathy chuckle fanned your skin as he smiled down at you, "Ready for me to move?" At your quiet confirmation, he began slowly rocking his hips into yours, the drag of his cock against your walls addicting - but you needed more. 

"M-more. . ." you panted and he smirked. 

"More what?" He asked, not stopping the slow drag movements of his hips as if he knew it was driving you mad, which he probably did if you were being honest. 

You swallowed your nerves, "Faster," he brushed that spot again, "fuck - harder." 

He nodded, moving his hands to the back of each of your knees, holding your legs open, "Can I have my way with you? You can ride me later?" You forgot about that, about saying you wanted to ride him. You did, you wanted him under you writhing for you like you were for him now, but you weren't sure you could handle taking over right now so you nodded. You just wanted him to make you feel good and to fucking move already. 

"Yes," You whined, trying to move your hips against his again, but with how he was holding your legs, you couldn't move much. "Just move." You didn't care how desperate you sounded now, you were going to go insane if he didn't do something other than slowly drag himself in and out, stopping just before hitting that perfect spot. 

"Say please." You scowled at him. Sometimes you forgot how cocky he could get, though this was the first time his cockiness made you even more needy for him. 

"Fuck," You muttered, the pressure growing low in your belly, "please Bucky."

"I got you," He pushed you knees closer to your chest as he leaned over you, thrusting into the base, hitting that spot that made you see stars before pulling out just as quick and doing it again. 

It felt like the air had been sucked out of your chest as you held his gaze, his hips unrelenting in his thrusts, the sound of skin slapping filling your ears in between the moans that fell from both of you. 

"God," He panted, "You feel so good around me, I always knew you would." He dropped one of your legs, reaching up to palm your breast and taking the pebbled nipple in between his fingers, "Fuckin' made for me, weren't you?" 

A loud moan tore its way through your throat as you reached for him, your hand finding his neck, nails raking down to the middle of his chest, his hips driving home even harder. You could feel that somewhat familiar crest quickly approaching, knowing the feeling from your nights alone where all you had were your fingers. But you didn't want this to end. You wanted to stay here, his cock filling you up and hitting that one spot over and over. 

Something in your face, or maybe it was the way your breathing became more controlled, told Bucky that you were trying to fight it off as long as you could and he smirked before slowing down just enough to let your knees go and tell you, "Wrap your legs around my waist." 

You quickly followed his instruction as he leaned over you, grabbing the headboard with one hand and circling your clit with the thumb of his other. You couldn't hold back the almost scream that erupted from your chest at the sensation and he smiled. 

"Don't fight it, baby," He coaxed, "Just let it happen." He quickened the pace of both his hips and his thumb, trying to push you over that edge. "C'mon, Peach," he was practically begging now, "Let me have it."

The thread holding you back was fraying quickly, ready to snap and he knew it. 

Your breath hitched and he smirked, still keeping his pace as he muttered, "Give it to me." 

The thread snapped. Pleasure crashed into you, a roaring in your ears as your body tightened under his, your walls clenching around him as he continued his determined thrusts. Your hands grasped at his back, your nails raking down his skin. Your legs locked around him. 

You were sure you screamed. 

"That's it, baby," He panted into your ear, his hips becoming sporadic, "Keep coming - fuck - keep gripping me like that." You weren't sure how exactly to do what he was asking, but in your daze, you did your best, tightening your muscles as much as you could. 

He gasped, gripping your hip tight enough to bruise you were sure. His hips stilled and his head buried into your neck as he shouted. 

He gently rested his weight on you, pushing you into the mattress and trailing small kisses along your neck and shoulder where his head still rested. He waited until you'd caught your breath and your eyes were clear before speaking again. 

"Are. . . are you alright?" He asked, worry replacing the pleasure that had been on his face just moments ago. 

You gave him a dizzy smile, nodding, "I'm perfect." 

A large smile grew on his face as he chuckled, his hand raising to cup your chin, pulling himself forward to gently press his lips to yours. "Good," he muttered against your lips, "You make such a cute face when you cum, did you know that?" 

You felt your skin heat as you tried to shove his now laughing face away from you. "Shut up!"

"What?!" He roared, "It's true!" He grabbed your hands in his, pinning them above you. He was still smiling as he looked down at you, his pupils still blown wide, "I wanna see you make it again." 

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[piedinthepiper]

You owe me ☆

Mafia!Jungkook x psychologist!reader

Summary: It’s your job to help people, but is he really suffering? At least it’s a case of the crazy and obsessive syndrome.

Warnings: yandere!Jungkook, dub con, guilt tripping, description of murder and crime, mention of stalking, cursing, weapons (one singular gun), mention of male masturbation, descriptive smut, probably wrong use of psychological terms (oopsie)

Wc: 6.9k

A/n: This is my first post on my bts fic blog! If you like it please show your support! Don’t be a silent reader! My requests are open, share your ideas!

Disclaimer: This is 100% fiction. I am in no way saying that this is how any member of bts would act. Nor do I condone the actions detailed in the story. This is purely for entertainment purposes only. If any of the warnings trigger you, or you’re under 18 ¡do not read! I’m not your mother, and I don’t take any accountability for what you decide to read online!

Another disclaimer: I am not a licensed psychologist! Everything related to psychology in this fic is off Google, do not use this to diagnose yourself or anyone else!

Parts: | 1 | 2 |

He clutched the gun close to his chest. Hiding it under his pyjamas. His fathers words ringing in the back of his mind. “Your brother is too soft for this industry, but you son, you’re my perfect descendant.”

He walked into his family’s suite. It was dark, except for one light in the living room. His mother sat there head propped up on her hand reading a book.

“What are you doing up so late, baby?”

She asked, putting the book down in her lap and taking off her reading glasses. He looked over at the white sofa placed next to the large windows. His brother was sleeping there peacefully. Not aware of his presence.

“I let your brother sleep in the living room tonight. His nightmares have returned.”

She continued when he didn’t answer her. He slowly turned his eyes towards his mother again.

“Weak.”

He answered lowly. Her look turned concerned.

“Is something wrong, baby?

His eyes continued to stare at her. He didn’t move a muscle, not yet.

“You know I don’t like it when you look at me like that.”

She continued when he yet again didn’t answer. There was a sturdiness to her voice now. The kind of sturdiness mothers have before scolding you. He started smiling. Not in a sweet innocent way. Not in the way 11 year olds should. But in a sinister and dark way. His hand moved out of his pyjamas top. She looked at the object in his hand.

“Drop that gun right now, Jungkook!”

A scream. Three shots. And silence.

15 years later

“Your patient is here.”

Your assistant, Erin, said through the slightly ajar door to your office. You looked up from your lunch. Quickly glancing over at the stationary computer to check the time.

“I don’t have an appointment. Not in another thirty minutes.”

Erin looked back to the waiting room before slowly stepping inside the office. Closing the door quietly behind her. She walked closer to you.

“He’s been sitting here for an hour already. I told him his appointment wasn’t until 1 pm. He just said ‘I know’ and sat down.”

She hurriedly whispered afraid of whoever was sitting out there.

“Please, Erin. Don’t act like he’s crazy. Send him in, I’ll eat later.”

She gave you a look before holding up two fingers. The signal that the two of you created. Working as a psychologist you meet with all sorts of people. Even criminals. The signal signalised that she would call the police if you hit the button that called directly to the front desk.

“Stop it, there will be no need to call the police. He’s harmless.”

“If you say so.”

She shrugged and walked out the door. The next time it opened a familiar figure entered.

“Good afternoon, Doctor.”

“You’re early Mr. Jeon.”

You had been treating Jungkook Jeon for a little over a month now. And you had come to the conclusion that he had PTSD, post-traumatic stress disorder. After he had witnessed a series of murders and crimes during his childhood. He was vague about the past, but a few things came out here and there. You only knew about his absent father and that his brother and mother had both been killed. No description of how or when. Which is common at first. It’s hard to re-live your trauma.

“I’m sorry I disturbed your lunch. Just eat, I don’t mind.”

He said as he sat down in the white sofa across your desk. You gave him a small smile as you reached into your drawer.

“Don’t worry about me, I’ll eat after our session.”

You said as you fished his file up and opened it on you desk. You quickly read your notes from the last session as you continued talking.

“How are you doing? Still having nightmares?”

You looked up from the file maintaining eye contact as he answered your question.

“Sometimes, but not as often as before. I dream of you instead now.”

His eyes never left yours as he bit his lip, playing with his piercing he had there. You nodded.

“How often do you dream about me? And what are the dreams about?”

You asked as you scribbled it down in your notes.

“Every now and then they occur. Especially after our sessions. Or after I read your books. You’re a good writer Dr. y/l/n.”

He started smiling. His smile wasn’t sweet, it was different from how he had smiled at you before.

“As for what they’re about, I don’t think you’d want to know, Doctor.”

You tried concealing your confusion at his last statement. Curiosity taking over you.

“Dreaming about people you frequently surround yourself with is not uncommon. If you don’t like to talk about it we don’t have to. I would just like to know if they’re good or bad dreams.”

He nodded, still not breaking his smile nor the eye contact.

“Oh they’re good, Doctor. Don’t worry.”

You smiled back at him.

“That’s good to know. I’m glad to hear your nightmares are slowly being changed with good dreams.”

It went silent for a moment as you wrote down the good news. When you looked up again he wasn’t looking at you anymore, and for some reason you felt relived. His eyes were big and doe like, and when they focused on you for too long you would sometimes feel uneasy. You wondered so what those eyes had experiences in the past.

“What about your sudden outbreaks, are you able to control your anger better?”

He focused on you again the second he heard your voice. His smile returned.

“Sort of, I’ve been letting out the aggression in the gym, after you adviced me to try to stay active. I’ve started boxing.”

You smiled and nodded, writing down boxing in your notes.

“That’s good to hear. It seems that you’re getting better Mr. Jeon, much b-“

“Jungkook, call me Jungkook.”

He interrupted. You stopped and looked at him for a second.

“And no, I’m not cured. I still need you.”

You slowly nodded.

“Well there is no cure for your diagnosis, it’s a matter of being at peace with living with it. But I can understand that you still have things you would want to talk about. Maybe you would like to open up to me about your past?”

The room grew quiet. His eyes now focused on his hands in his lap. His demeanour changed completely.

“I have told you about my past. If I didn’t you wouldn’t have been able to diagnose me in the first place.”

He answered with a bit of underlaying annoyance. You sighed. Something felt off, but you couldn’t figure out what.

“You have told me some parts yes. If you want to go more in detail you can, I’m not forcing you. As your psychologist I would advise talking about it with me. It could be nice to have an outsiders perspective.”

You said in a soft tone. Trying to get your point across at the same time as being gentle. You didn’t want him to feel pressured or as if he had to say anything. When he didn’t open his mouth you understood you crossed his personal line of what he feels fit for you to know. You spoke after almost a minute with silence.

“It’s fine. You don’t have to. You can think about-“

“You’re a smart one.”

He interrupted you again. His eyes raised to meet yours.

“That’s why I like you. You know to some extent what is going on inside my head. I could never do that. I never know what is going on inside your head. If you think I’m weak or even crazy.”

“I don’t think you’re crazy nor weak. It’s not your job to know what is going on inside my head. But it is my job to know what’s going on inside yours.”

He nodded before patting the sofa seat beside him.

“Come here.”

He simply said. You don’t know why, but you had a bad feeling in your stomach. He was acting differently today, compared to other sessions. Either way you got up from your chair, knowing that doing what he said would get you an insight of what you wanted to know. You slowly walked around your desk and sat down in the small sofa next to him. You crossed your legs trying your best not to get too close to him, but he seemed to man spread even more. Making your thighs touch. You placed your notebook in your lap, ready to write down exactly what he told you. He took a hold of your wrist.

“You’re not writing this down, Doctor. I need your full attention.”

It was the first time he had touched you, beside the first time you met when you shook hands. It made you think that you usually never have any sort of physical contact with your patients. Maybe that’s exactly what they need. What he needs to open up to you. You put your notebook down, and continued holding his hand. He looked down at your hands intertwining. Your smooth small hand was a sharp contrast to his bigger tattooed one.

“Tell me whatever you feel comfortable with telling me.”

You said to get his attention back to reality. He went quiet for a few seconds.

“I grew up in a hotel. It was a nice hotel, four stars, good breakfast. My father was almost never home, I didn’t mind though. I had my mother and my brother there. It was perfect in the beginning.”

He stopped. You looked down at his hand, it was shaking. You started drawing small circles at the back of his hand. Trying to calm him down. He looked down at your hands again.

“One night when I was sleeping I was woken up by a loud bang. The door to our home was broken down. A man entered and started shooting. My brother was still sleeping on the sofa and died instantly. My mother reached her gun and shot the man in the shoulder.”

He looked into your eyes.

“But he shot her in the head.”

You nodded, looking down at the floor. You knew he was looking at you, but you couldn’t meet his eyes in that moment.

“Did you find out who that man was? Why he would do such a thing.”

He went quiet again at your question. His grip on your hand tightened, as if what he was going to say would make you pull away.

“He was a mobster. Like my father. After the incident he trained me as the next leader of his group. I was 11.”

You looked at him. His childhood was worse than you thought, but he wasn’t saying all this as if it was a traumatic experience. It seemed like he was bragging about it. You would have to go through your notes and his file after work to see if there was something you were missing about him. You couldn’t jump to conclusions just yet.

“Thank you for telling me.”

You smiled at him. He looked back at you with those big eyes. You looked at the watch on your wrist. The session was over.

“Look at the time.”

You were about to let go of his hand to get up from the sofa. But he grabbed you harder. Forcing you to sit still.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Jeon. But our session is over-“

“I’ve told you to call me Jungkook.”

“Jungkook, I have other patients today as well. We can continue this next week.”

You tried to assure him. He still didn’t let go.

“I’ve never told anyone about this, and you decide to end the session this quickly?”

You grabbed his hand with your other hand as well.

“You know I usually don’t end sessions like this. But I can’t let my other patients wait. You’re free to sit in the waiting room for as long as you want to.”

He frowned at your comment, but relaxed his hand nonetheless. You got off the sofa and walked to your desk again. Before you could say anything else he got up from the sofa and hastily walked out the door. Slamming it shut behind him.

You had two more patients that day. You waved goodbye to your last patient of the day, a young girl named Olive Thomson who was suffering from severe anxiety, as she walked through the door. You got up from your chair and collected your things. You turned off the computer and the light. You made sure to lock the door as you always do. The only thing you had to do now was say goodbye to Erin by the front desk, and you could go home. You walked into the waiting room.

“Finally.”

You turned to find the owner of the voice, as it was clearly not Erin’s.

“Mr. Jeon what are you doing here?”

You asked as you looked at the man seated in one of the waiting chairs.

“I told him he had to leave, I promise.”

You heard Erin whisper behind you.

“You said I could sit here for as long as I wanted to, Doctor. And please, just call me Jungkook.”

He was clearly upset. You remembered your words from earlier, but you didn’t think he would spend almost four hours just sitting there.

“I did, you’re right. I’m leaving now, Erin will be here for another two hours. But after that we’re closed.”

He got up from the chair.

“I was waiting for you.”

He simply said.

“I’m sorry our session ended so brutally, but I promise we’ll talk about it next week.”

You said and patted his shoulder as you walked past him towards the exit.

“Goodbye, Erin!”

You said as you made your way outside. The wind was cold and you clutched your coat closer to you as you walked towards your car.

“The least you can do is eat with me.”

He had followed you outside. You turned to look at him.

“I’m not that hungry, I just want to go home.”

You was going to open your car door, but his hand suddenly blocked the door. You were about to cuss him out. Tired of his antics.

“You haven’t eaten all day, I hardly doubt that one bite you had for lunch filled you up.”

He sounded threatening, something he had started to do recently.

“I just want to hear your thoughts on what I said. Don’t you think you owe me that? Or do I have to wait a week and dread finding out your opinion of me?”

He was desperate, you could see it. What he was saying was true. He would walk around overthinking for the next week and his health could worsen. You had to take action according to your diagnosis.

“Ok, I’ll eat with you.”

The two of you were sitting at some restaurant. The lights were low and to everyone around you, the two of you looked like a couple on a date. This was obviously not something you would do with your patients, you like to keep things professional. Something about this whole situation felt anything but professional.

“Get whatever you want, my treat.”

He said deeply focused on the menu. You shook your head.

“No thank you, I can pay for my own food.”

You answered.

“I’m the one responsible for you not being able to eat your lunch right? You owe me this meeting and I owe you food. Two birds with one stone.”

You sighed when you didn’t have a rebuttal. The two of you ordered, and the silence grew more and more awkward.

“I’m sorry again, Mr. Jeon I’m-“

“Jungkook. Please y/n! Just call me Jungkook!”

He was clearly upset now. You were a bit taken aback from the sudden use of your first name. He had never called you by your first name before. And the feeling of the professionalism fading away became more apparent.

“I’m sorry. I’ll try to remember your request.”

“Say it. Say my name.”

For some reason you didn’t feel like you had it in you. It felt so strange to call a patient by their name, the same way it felt weird to be called your name by a patient.

“Jungkook.”

You managed to get it out, but you couldn’t look him in the eye saying it. The food luckily came quickly, you were starving. Plus it saved you from whatever he was going to answer. You decided to take the lead. Wanting to stay on track for the actual reason you said yes to join him.

“You said your father was a mobster. Do you know if he’s still living that lifestyle? Do you have any contact with him?”

You asked after taking a big bite of your pasta. Jungkook swallowed before answering your question.

“My father is dead. He’s been dead for 7 years now.”

A question came to mind, but you didn’t know if you dared ask him. You remember he said his father trained him to the life of crime at a young age. For him to take over his fathers legacy. With his father gone he would be next in line to whatever group his father had built. He got the image. Tattoos, piercings, the black clothes. But you couldn’t imagine him being a mafia boss. Maybe it was some sort of stereotype that strong, tough men don’t go to the psychologist. But you were starting to rethink his intentions.

“You’re thinking about something.”

You looked up from your food. He was staring at you.

“Look at you, you do have the ability to understand my mind.”

You said lightheartedly. He chuckled.

“I think you’re brave. Not many people survive the kind of neglect and trauma you’ve experienced in your childhood.”

You said, trying to give him an answer for his entire life story. He nodded and suddenly reached for your hand across the table. You jumped, but didn’t remove your hand. You didn’t want to make a scene with this many people around.

“I’m fine, y/n. I think the only cure I need is you.”

His statement combined with his eyes staring into your soul, gave you chills down your back. Something was off about him. You had to ask. You just had to.

“When your father died, did you…?”

He smiled. The same sinister smile he smiled at you earlier that day.

“I did. I took over his legacy. Me and my father were actually great friends the years before he died. Not that I cared for him. I don’t think I’ve ever cared for anyone in my entire life.”

Another shot of chills froze your body at his statement. You had overlooked it this entire time. His calm demeanour, his tendency to physically violence, his intelligence and charisma and now his lack of empathy. He didn’t suffer from PTSD, he had been lying this entire time.

“At least not until I met you.”

He interrupted your thoughts. You pulled your hand out of his quickly. You took a deep breath trying to compose yourself.

“That’s nonsense. You must’ve cared for your mother.”

He shrugged.

“Not really, she wasn’t exactly the best mother.”

“You don’t really have those nightmares do you?”

You asked, looking at him. It took him a few seconds to answer. Probably contemplating if he should continue his lies or tell the truth.

“I don’t.”

“You didn’t really have a problem with your mother or brother dying either right?”

He let out a small laugh.

“I just told you.”

“Just answer me.”

He poked his tongue into his cheek and leaned forward onto the table.

“What is this? Are you trying to diagnose me, Doctor?”

He said mockingly.

“Answer me.”

You commanded. He sighed and started smiling at you again.

“Everyone has to die at some point. Doesn’t matter when or how.”

You nodded. Your instinct was true.

“You don’t have PTSD, you have ASPD.”

He licked his lips and cocked his head.

“And what does that mean, Doctor?”

“You’re a sociopath.”

He looked taken aback from your bluntness for a second. He probably wasn’t expecting you to crack his code.

“You’ve lied this entire time for your own personal gain. I must admit your acting was really good. But my question is, what do you want?”

He was quiet for a second. You knew he was fighting a war on the inside.

“I really underestimated you y/n. I knew you were smart, but personally I don’t think PhDs make a person smart by default. You’ve really proven yourself to me.”

“My efforts were not made to impress you. You think too highly of yourself Mr. Jeon.”

His gaze switched, you had aggravated him. Not only by calling him by his last name, but by attacking his self image.

“Why don’t you come home with me, we can continue our conversation there.”

You shook your head, and arranged the cutlery neatly by the side of your half empty plate.

“I do not go home with patients, and I definitely do not go home with mobsters. You have already challenged my professionalism by taking me out to eat.”

He smirked.

“What if I stop being your patient? In all honesty I don’t really need your advice, Doctor.”

You grabbed your bag and got up from your seat.

“In all honesty I think you do. We will continue this conversation in my office next week. Good night Mr. Jeon.”

With that you walked away from the table. Not looking back.

The next few days you were on edge. Constantly overthinking everything that had happened that day with Jungkook. You almost wanted to call in sick. Terrified of what would happen next. But regardless of that you had to continue working. You couldn’t let your other patients get affected by whatever was going on with you. You said goodbye to Mrs. Humphrey. An elderly woman that had fallen into depression after her husband had passed. Once the door closed you fetched your lunch out of your bag. You didn’t feel like eating, but you knew you had to. If not your energy would be drained at the end of the day. After the first bite you started hearing noises outside. Erin was almost yelling outside your door. You stood up, wanting to investigate what the commotion was. Before you could take one step the door swung open. And there he stood, your nightmare for the last couple of days.

“I told him you were busy, Dr. y/l/n! I told him he couldn’t enter!”

Erin said hopelessly behind him. He was soaking wet from the rain. His hair plastered itself to his forehead. And his black shirt did the same to his abdomen. He didn’t move, he was just staring at you with a furious look in his eyes.

“It’s fine, Erin. I’ll handle this.”

Erin looked at Jungkook worriedly before looking back to you. She held up two fingers. You nodded, and she left.

“Sit.”

You said, as you yourself sat down behind your desk. He closed the door behind him, but didn’t sit down. He continued to lure near the door.

“You interrupt my lunch again, I don’t want this to become a habit.”

“Please, spear me the bullshit.”

He said, and you went quiet. Wanting him to say whatever he came here for.

“How did you do it?”

He said after some time. You looked confused at him. Not understanding what he was referring to.

“Did what?”

You asked in almost a sharp tone. You were annoyed. He let out a small laugh, it almost sounded like a sneer.

“You’re cute when you’re angry with me.”

He started slowly walking towards you.

“But I need to know how you did it, y/n.”

He stopped once he reached the end of your desk. You looked up at him.

“What did I do?”

You ask again. He puts his palms on the table and lean closer to you. You don’t move, trying to prove to him and yourself that you’re not scared.

“You figured out a side of me I never understood I had. If I, the person that’s bearing this disease didn’t know. How come you knew?”

You leaned back in your seat and crossed your arms. He was clearly distressed. Maybe even more than what you had been for the last days. And for some reason it pleased you.

“I told you, this is what I do. This is my job.”

You could tell he was conflicted in what to do next. You could practically see the way the wheels were turning inside his head. But eventually he sat down.

“I studied the human mind for six years to be able to understand things not even you are aware of.”

He scowled at you as you talked to him in a harsh tone.

“I’ve done research, and I’ve written books about this, that you have read may I add. What made you think that I wasn’t capable?”

He didn’t answer. The two of you just stared at each other.

“This is not a session, I demand answers, Jungkook.”

His eyes lit up when he heard his name fall off your tongue.

“Like I said, I underestimated you.”

He answered short.

“You didn’t answer my other question.”

You stated. He looked confused at you.

“The question from the other night. What do you want?”

He started laughing. You did not find it funny, and watched him as his fit of laughter died down.

“Y/n, you can’t be serious! You’re telling me that you were able to diagnose me with some bullshit, while I was pretending to be something else. But you’re not able to see the fact that I want you.”

The room got quiet. For the first time in a long time you felt completely speechless. He moved to get up from the sofa, but stopped the second he saw you roll your chair further away from him. He could tell you were afraid now, there was no point in acting tough.

“Come here.”

He said with a smirk and patted his thigh this time. There was still fight in you though.

“You’re disgusting.”

You uttered. He sneered at your comment.

“You’ve exploited me for your own satisfaction this entire time.”

You looked strictly at him, as he sighed.

“What was I supposed to do? You’re constantly on my mind. Day and night. And it’s awful!”

“That’s called an obsession.”

“I know what it’s called!”

He bit back. You went quiet, waiting for him to give you more information.

“The only way I can get a break is after i come to the thought of you. It usually takes around three times until I’m too tired to think of you.”

You couldn’t hide your disgust from your facial expression anymore. Looking at him as if he was a rat on the street.

“And then I thought if that helps, the real deal would help even more.”

He got up from the sofa now. You stayed seated, your hand slowly moving across your desk towards the telephone.

“I need you, y/n.”

You broke eye contact and looked down to hit the right number for the front desk. Jungkook quickly understood what happened and pushed the stationary phone off the desk. It fell to the floor with a bang, breaking it on impact. You got up quickly, wanting to distance yourself from him.

“How did you know? About the phone, about me. We never met before our sessions. Why? I don’t understand.”

You blurted out in pure stress of the situation. He smiled as he started walking towards the side of the desk. You walked the other way, wanting to keep the desk between the two of you. He chuckled.

“You’re cute when you’re confused too.”

You continued walking backwards. Trying to keep as much distance from him, while he tries to close it.

“I’ve followed you for a long time, baby. A very long time.”

The two of you had walked an entire round around the desk now. He jumped down onto the sofa again. His hand gracing the sofa cushions beside him.

“Do you want to know the full story?”

You knew what he was hinting at. Your entire body was screaming not to get anywhere near him. But you needed to know. He didn’t have anything to hold back now, you were certain he would tell you the truth. So you walked towards the sofa, carefully sitting down beside him. You took a second to compose yourself before looking at him. Signalising that’s you were ready. He smiled.

“I have known you since we both were children. Your father was my brothers shrink. He´s the one that had PTSD. I saw you for the first time in the hotel lobby after your father had finished his session with my brother. You were maybe 6 and sat there for so long, waiting for your father to return. When I saw you, I knew we were meant to be. We were soulmates. And for the first time in my life I felt something for someone.”

He grabbed your hand. You quickly out of reflex tried to wiggle yourself out of his grip. He tugged your hand harshly towards him and your entire upper body followed. Without your hand to catch you, you fell straight into his chest. His other hand sneaked around your waist as you composed yourself.

“Let me go.”

You said annoyed, placing your hand on his chest to keep a distance.

“If you want to hear the rest, you have to play by my rules, baby.”

His eyes focused on your lips as he whispered to you. You shook your head.

“I don’t need to know the rest. I can make out the sob story on my own. Boy falls in love, boy doesn’t get girl.”

He shook his head and let go of your waist. You quickly sat back up, brushing off imaginary dust from your lap.

“You should show me some respect.”

He said with a serious tone. You rolled your eyes and crossed your eyebrows.

“I’m not scared of you.”

He chuckled at your comment, placing his hand around the back of the sofa.

“I don’t want you to be scared of me either. I just think that you should show the man you owe your life to some respect.”

He touched your shoulder, drawing small circles on your jumper.

“I don’t owe you anything.”

He smirked.

“Oh, but you do. I made you the person you are today. Without me you wouldn’t be here.”

You sighed tiredly at him.

“You’re unbelievable.”

You got up from your seat and walked back to your desk. Starting to pack up your stuff. You were so done with him. He needed help, but you would no longer treat him. You decided as much.

“I need to get out of here, if you’re not gone when I’m back I’ll call the police.”

You put your bag over your shoulder, ready to walk away.

“How did you get into Yale, Doctor?”

He asked out of the blue. You stopped in your tracks.

“What? Why?”

He shrugged.

“Just seems so weird that someone with your grades would be able to attend any Ivy League school. Don’t you agree?”

You went quiet. Not knowing where he wanted this conversation to go.

“And don’t you think it’s weird how you always got A’s even when you were out partying instead of studying?”

You thought back to the years when you were studying. You originally did only apply to Yale just because your father went there. You didn’t think you actually was going to make it, because your grades were mediocre.

“What are you saying?”

“You have no idea how many people I had to blackmail to get you there. How many men I had follow you constantly. How many professors I had to bribe to make them give you a good grade. I’ve spent millions on you, y/n!”

Your mind was racing. You didn’t understand anything. Was your entire life a lie?

“I have to give it to you. Your first book made it without my help. But when you came out with your second book, and it wasn’t a success right away. I bought almost half the copies and payed a hefty amount of money to make it a New York Times best seller.”

You dropped your bag in awe. What he was saying made a lot of sense. You started rethinking every significant moment in your life. Wondering if he was behind it all. He got up from his seat and started moving towards you. But this time you didn’t step back. You let him come close to you.

“I’ve done so much for you, baby. Why are you so ungrateful?”

You looked up at him. He was now standing right in front of you. So close that you could almost feel his breath on your skin.

“I didn’t ask you to do any of this. You can’t keep me in debt for something I-“

You struggled with continuing the sentence. The reality of his words hit you, and your tears threatened to spill.

“It’s ok, baby. I’m not asking for much, considering what I’ve given you.”

He whispered calmly. His hands found your waist. He took one step closer to you and placed his forehead against yours.

“All I want is you, right here on this sofa, showing me how grateful you are.”

You couldn’t hold your tears in anymore, letting them slowly drip down your cheeks. One of his hands abandoned your waist to wipe away the hot tears on your cheek. You looked into his eyes as he continued to hold your face.

“If I do it, will you leave me alone?”

His eyes focus on your lips and how close you were. He had never been this close to you.

“I can never leave you. You’re my soulmate.”

He simply answered. You looked down at the floor.

“Jungkook, you’re delusional. You have to stop.”

“How can I stop? Huh? You’re the only one that matters in my life!”

You continued looking at the floor, even when he pushed himself off you in his fit of rage.

“I fucking love you!”

You shook your head, looking up at him this time.

“You don’t love me! You don’t even know me! You’ve created this illusion in your head that we are meant to be, but we’re not!”

You yelled back at him angrily.

“You’ve interfered in my life when I didn’t ask you to! You don’t have the right to do that!”

“And where would you be without me?”

He argued back.

“You act like you don’t care! But you know that without my help you wouldn’t be anything. You would’ve been a nobody.”

His words stung. What he was saying was the truth. The hard truth. You would have never made it to college. Never gotten this job. Never been a successful author. Never followed in your fathers footsteps and made him proud. You heard Jungkook sigh.

“I’m sorry baby, but it’s the truth.”

He said dejectedly. You took a deep breath. Realising what you had to do.

“I’ll do it.”

You simply said and met his eyes.

“I’ll have sex with you once, but after this I need you to stop.”

“Baby-“

“Listen to me! I’ll find you another psychologist. I want you to go to there and get help. When your treatment is over-“

You stopped for a second. Contemplating if you wanted to commit to the promise you were about to make.

“I’ll meet you again. To talk. I can’t promise you more than that.”

His eyes lit up and he swiftly lifted you in a hug. Letting out small sounds of excitement and shaking you around a little. You couldn’t help but smile at his boyish action. After a moment he put you down again, but continued to hold your waist.

“I’ll do whatever you say, baby. I’ll do anything for you.”

Your hands found his strong chest. You kept the eye contact, but your eyes couldn’t help but flick down to his lips for a split second. And that’s all he needed to kiss you. It started slow, but quickly got hotter. Your hands slid around his neck, unconsciously pulling him deeper into the kiss. He stepped backwards. You were taken aback by the sudden movement, but followed his lead. He guided the two of you to the sofa. The same sofa he had sat in every time he came to your sessions. He broke the kiss to jump down on the sofa. He looked up at you with nothing but lust in his eyes. He had been waiting for this for many years, and finally he had you. He reached out for you as you straddled his lap, feeling his already hard cock between the fabric of your trousers. His hands moved down to your ass. Grabbing it the second he had a chance, and letting out a satisfied groan. You reached down to the hem of your top and pulled it off.

“You’re so fucking hot.”

He said with half lidded eyes as he watched your bare skin. You smirked at his comment and reached for his shirt as well. He lifted his back off the sofa to help you get it off. Once it was off you started examining his tattoos. Tracing his arm with your finger all the way up to his shoulder. You stopped once you saw the little circular scar. Your entire body froze as you remembered his words from your last session. “My mother reached her gun and shot the man in the shoulder. But he shot her in the head.”. He looked at you confused for a second, before he looked at his shoulder where your eyes were glued. He understood what you were thinking.

“You killed your family.”

You said and looked back at him. He was already shaking his head.

“The man was you. You killed them.”

You tried to get up from his lap, suddenly scared of the killer you were straddling. But he held you down with a strong grip.

“Baby calm down, let me explain.”

You continued to struggle. Not listening to his words.

“Y/n!”

He suddenly screamed. Getting your attention. He sighed.

“I didn’t kill them.”

“I don’t fucking believe you.”

You started struggling again, now hitting his chest as well. He quickly flipped the two of you. Pushing you down onto the sofa with his own body weight. Holding your wrists harshly.

“So what if I killed them? It doesn’t take away from the fact that you still owe me this!”

He looked dangerous on top of you like that. A single tear fell down the side of your cheek. He was right yet again. He kissed you tenderly. It was a sharp contrast to the tone in his voice.

“You still owe me your body.”

He started kissing down your neck. Eagerly taking one of your boobs in his hand. His crotch grinded against you for a second before you heard him curse under his breath.

“I’ll have to taste you another time. I can’t fucking wait any longer to be inside you.”

He started working on your jeans. Ripping them off in a hasty speed together with your panties. He quickly loosened his belt and repeated the action on himself. His cock sprung free, but you weren’t able to look at it for more than a second before he lifted your legs over his shoulders and pushed into you. The two of you moaned in unison. He was big, but he took little to no time for you to adjust, as he started thrusting into you with brutal force.

“You’re so fucking tight.”

He moaned, stopping his motion to spit on your pussy. Using it as lubricant. He continued quickly after. Moans and heavy breathing filled your office as the two of you strived to reach your orgasms. He reached down and started rubbing your clit. Almost overstimulating you.

“I’ve waited for this for so long, baby. You feel better than I ever imagined.”

You felt a familiar knot building in your lower stomach. The rapid speed of his hands and the stretching of his cock making you come closer to release quicker than ever.

“I need to come inside you. I need to fill you up, baby.”

You nodded. Not knowing or caring what you said yes to. You were already on cloud nine and needed him to continue whatever he was doing.

“Say my name.”

You understood he was close, and you were too.

“Jungkook!”

You moaned as your orgasm washed over you. You legs clenched around him, and your hands found his arms. Digging your nails into his skin. He came the second he heard his name escape your mouth. He let you ride out your orgasm, before he fell on top of you. You felt his breath go back to normal as he nuzzled into your neck. The two of you laid there in serenity for a while. Just feeling each others heartbeats and listening to each others breathing.

He would do as you told him. He would go see someone. He would do whatever it took to have you like that again. He would never let you go. You owed him this after all.

Thank you for reading! Do you want to read more?

Masterlist

#bts yandere #yandere jungkook #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook bts #jungkook yandere #yandere!jungkook #yandere!bts #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #yandere bts #yandere x reader #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #bts jungkook #bts x fem!reader #bts x reader #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jk #bangtan #bangtan smut #jeon jungkook angst #jungkook angst #jungkook and reader #jungkook and you

[tasteracha]

a/n: my comeback in the form of a disorganized half silly half poetic felix. thing. inspired by him looking divine enough to lick after walking the runway.

warnings: lix is a little mean and condescending, fem!reader

your lips are on his before he makes it through the door, a sweet smell from the roses crushed between the two of you erupting into the room. you’d been all but waiting at the door since he left for paris, too busy with work and life to take him up on his invitation to join him, though it hurt more than it should have to see him there without you.

“you looked so good, still do, oh my god,” you say against his lips, kisses complimenting every word. 

“thank you, darling,” he pulls away to set the flowers down, and there’s so many. what were you even going to do with all of that? a problem for later, you decide, instead prioritizing entering his personal space once again. 

you take his face in your hands, gentle as to not smear the careful swipes of makeup there - that would be a task for later. it seemed like he didn’t have the opportunity to change and shower before he came home to you, and in your head it had more to do with his desire to see you than the timing of his flight following the after party. you take in the browns brushed across his eyelids, the gentle flush of blush highlighting his cheekbone, the shininess of his eyes as he lets your eyes feast on the delicacy of his features. he’s dressed smartly in a crisp white button-up shirt and high-waisted black slacks that sat around his waist and curved perfectly around his ass. you brush one hand through his wavy, iridescent hair and it’s so feather soft that you can barely feel it passing through your fingers. specks of glitter fall out of it like angel dust and the urge to call him pretty passes through the forefront of your thoughts. you don’t think you will ever get tired of telling him how beautiful he is. 

“never cut your hair again,” you demand, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck and twirling the strands between your fingertips. “you look like an angel, lix.”

“okay,” he grins, nuzzling his hand into your palm. “you might have to work it out with the stylists on that, though.”

“i’ll fight them with my bare hands,” you’re completely serious, and fondness takes over his features when he sees the sharpening of your brow and the set of your mouth. “if they bring a pair of scissors near you they’ll face my wrath.”

“down, baby,” he chuckles and removes your hands from his face, holding them in his and keeping you close. “let me get out of these clothes and i’ll let you tell me all about how you’re going to dismantle the stylist empire, alright?”

“no,” you whine, and you’re almost embarrassed at how needy you sound. you were desperate for him, sure, but you weren’t a child. “wanna stare at you forever. everyone else got you for so long, now you’re mine.”

“i’m yours,” he echoes, love and affection dripping off of his words like syrup. “but in five minutes, i’ll be yours but wearing a hoodie. how does that sound?”

“fine,” you relent, releasing him completely so he could scamper away at the chance he was given. he was smart like that. 

five minutes, he had said. it took you about one and a half to lose patience and pad over to the bedroom. the door was open, all thoughts of privacy gone after you had reached the first year of your relationship. 

you find him in his boxers, wiping his shoulders with a damp towel and you pounce, trapping him underneath you on the bed. your hips are lined up with his from where you’re straddling him and you can feel his cock jump with interest against your core. 

“this is surprising,” he starts, and you have snark waiting on your tongue about how he should have expected this before he continues. “i thought you would have come in earlier, at least i had time to get undressed.”

“lix, you’re just so beautiful,” embarrassment rushes to your cheeks as you duck your head, ashamed and delighted at having your desperation for him verbalized like this. “can you blame me for wanting you?”

“of course not, darling,” he soothes you with fingertips to your forehead, brushing off tufts of hair that fall back into place right after. “i want you just as much.”

“good,” you grind down on him, savoring how he hisses at the contact. you get a moment of satisfaction before he switches, flipping the both of you over in one practiced move. you end up beneath him, your wrists pinned over your head and his thigh wedged between yours. 

“but i think you may benefit from learning a bit of patience, hmm?” he ghosts his lips over your cheek, running the top of his nose against yours. his hands leave your hands to wander over your sides, running up the hem of your shirt and towards your breasts; you weren’t wearing a bra, so he had easy access to your nipples and he took full advantage of this. 

the sensation isn’t enough, heat already pulsing in your core at just the look of him. you try to buck your hips up against his thigh but the angle is all off and you give up in frustration after a few attempts. you hated and loved when he got like this - teasing, controlling, edging on condescending. it was so unlike him in any other way that it sent sparks of excitement tingling up your spine. 

“giving up so easily?” he smirks, and even that is soft around the edges in a confusingly adorable way. you never know what he wanted, and that made it even more fun. did he want you to act desperate or be patient?

you voiced as such, and he tutted and moved to get off of you with a shake of his head. his hands leave your shirt and you grasp for him, nails scrabbling against his bare chest and leaving lines of red in their wake. he pauses, leaning over you like a fallen deity and you almost falter, but the need to get one over on him wins over. 

“if you don’t touch me, i’ll just do it myself,” you reach one of your hands towards your shorts, fully intending to go through with your word. it wasn’t much of a threat, but you knew it would work on him. or well, you hoped it would. 

“but darling, i am touching you,” he moves his thigh, still flush between your legs and you jolt. of course he would get the angle right. “you’re this worked up and you haven’t even told me what you wanted from me yet.”

“you know what i want,” you mumble, fire rushing to your cheeks again at having been outsmarted by him again. you should be used to this by now, but it ignites feelings inside of you as if they were the first time you were experiencing them, time and time again. 

“i want to hear you say it,” he purrs, falling back against you and pressing a soft kiss to your jaw. “i want to hear how badly you want me. i want to know what you were thinking about when you were touching yourself while i was gone.”

you want to deny his words, want to tell him that you didn’t think of him at all, but you knew he would see right through you. you loved him with every aching beat of your swollen heart, you couldn’t deny anything even if it was just to keep up the dynamic he had started. 

“i thought of you inside of me,” he pinches your side and compliments it with a nip to the shell of your ear, his breath hot on your skin. not good enough, he says with his actions. “nothing else feels like you. i couldn’t finish without you- ah.”

your breath is pushed out of your chest as he begins to kiss down your neck, his lips finding every sensitive spot on your skin like he was tracing a line that he had drawn on you.

“t-thought about the first time we had sex, when i knew i wouldn’t fuck anyone else for the rest of my life,” you might have been laying it on a little thick, but you knew he would fall for it. he might have teased you for being possessive, but he returned every inch with a mile, even if he was better at hiding it. he groans against you, tightening the hold he had around your waist, and you knew you had him. 

“flatterer,” he says, less of a tease and more of a statement. he rewards your efforts by slipping his hand into your shorts, rubbing at your pussy through your panties. you had a second to worry about the wetness that had been collecting there, but it fizzled out with the pressure of his fingertips. 

“wanted you to be here, to keep me full all day,” you were babbling now, saying anything to keep him going. as slow as he was being, you had no doubt that he would walk away just to keep up the act he had put on tonight. he was stronger than you in that way, one step ahead just by sheer force of will. “was hearing your voice in my head, telling me how good i was, how good you felt.”

“my darling is always good,” he murmurs, pushing aside your panties to slide his fingers against your clit. you never understood how a man who couldn’t tell the difference between a fruit and a vegetable was such an expert in your anatomy, but you weren’t one to complain, at least not about that. “even when you’re being a brat, you’re good.”

too soon, he removes his fingers from your core, wiping them against your shorts and shushing you when you open your mouth in protest. 

“i’m not going anywhere,” he assures, staying close as he kneels over you. “just let me get you undressed, unless you want to stay like that?” 

“dick,” you narrow your eyes, “i’m not going to answer that.”

“do you want my dick or am i a dick?” he pauses his hands, shorts and panties halfway down your thigh from where he had pulled them and you huff out a laugh.

“you’re hilarious,” you deadpan, kicking your foot to urge him to keep going as you lift your shirt off to quicken the process. you needed his dick inside of you like, yesterday. preferably. 

he pulls off his own briefs and they float to join yours on the floor and you can finally see his cock, half hard and pink and flushed and perfect. 

god, everything about him was perfect. 

you spread your legs a bit, smiling when his hungry eyes land on your pussy, now fully on display. you could see the fight in him fizzling out; for all his talk, he was apart from you for so long, and as strong of a man he was everyone had a weakness. 

he crawls back over you, stroking himself until he’s fully hard and leaking. he braces himself with one hand by your head, the veins on his arm popping at the exertion of keeping himself held up, the other hand guiding his cock into your folds to swipe against the wetness that had built up there. 

“c’mon, lix,” you turn your head to press a kiss to his wrist, the delicate flesh feeling fever hot against your lips, and you can feel him trembling. “i’ve unintentionally edged myself for days, take me.”

“what did i say about patience?” he grunts out, but there is no bite in his words and despite their implication he presses the head of his cock against your hole. 

you can’t help but tense up in excitement, the one thing you’d been craving for several nights finally within your grasp. he ducks his head to kiss you, mumbling a relax, baby against your lips and at once your body melts into the mattress. 

when he finally slides into you it’s like coming home, the feeling of two imperfect pieces slotting together to create a masterpiece. everything else in the world fades away and it’s just him, the feeling of him inside of you and on top of you, his face taking over your vision and his scent invading your nostrils like a drug. 

on another day he might have spent hours taking you apart with his mouth, teasing you with his fingers in ghosted touches and playful dancing. on another day he may have prolonged the game, made you recite every single thing you wanted him to do to you before doing it. but today, he stays like this for a moment, buried inside of you and panting into your neck, savoring the feeling of your tight heat around his aching cock. when he starts moving it’s like fireworks are bursting beneath your eyelids, sparks shooting out every time he hits your spot. 

you try to match his thrusts with your hips, lifting up to meet him halfway, but you end up exhausted after just a few moments. his movements were getting more intense, quicker and harder until he was fucking into you without abandon and you couldn’t keep up even if you wanted to. this is what you were waiting for, the wildness of his body and the sharp possessiveness glinting in his eyes, the teeth he bared before sinking them into your neck and the harsh grip he kept on your waist. 

you both finish fast, but what else could one expect from two beings completely obsessed with each other? time was fickle in the face of the two of you together, every minute felt like an hour. and besides, now that he was home you could do this over and over. 

he fucks you through your orgasm, whispering i love you’s and my darling’s into you as he follows you soon after. he ends up collapsing against you for a moment, and the breath you lose is worth you feeling his chest heaving with exerted breaths and the way he nuzzles into whatever patch of your skin he can find. 

“lix,” you mutter out, totally spent even though this may have been the tamest sex the two of you have had in a long while. 

“hmm?” he scootches over to the side and gathers you in his arms, holding you like you’re something precious. 

“do you still want to teach me about patience?”

#stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids imagines #lee felix smut #felix smut #lee felix x reader

[okay-babe]

Saw your Alastor request game and HAD to give it a try

A wholesome “ZIP ME”. Alastor helping with getting ready for the day or assist and just shows appreciation 🥰🥰🥰🥰

In love with you for requesting this prompt because I am in such a fluff writing mood rn <3

(Also for my anons who also requested this prompt, I still plan to write something for those as well, so they should be out before too long!)

Morning Routine

tags: alastor x fem! reader, established relationship, extreme levels of fluff, domestic bliss, soft alastor

Throughout your life (and death) you had woken up to many a nice view, from the rivers and lush wetlands of Louisiana to the sight of the city hundreds of feet below you.

And yet, none compared to the view of your beloved when he was half-ready for his day, which was typically the stage at which he woke you from your always deep and well needed slumber.

And today was no different.

Alastor hummed a distantly familiar tune from behind your still sleeping form as he slid in beside you on the bed you shared, body resting atop the covers as he leaned forward to press a kiss behind your ear. In response, you shifted slightly, nose scrunching the smallest bit as your lover's breaths tickled the soft flesh he had so very recently offered his affections to.

Alastor chuckled slightly under his breath at the sight, raising a gloved hand up to the exposed portion of your upper arm to run a feather-light touch down its length, immediately causing you to shiver.

After a few more moments of tickling breaths and nearly fleeting touches, your breathing pattern shifted slightly, eyes blinking open and squinting at the sudden invasion of light that was always there to greet you each morning.

Groaning softly, you were quick to close your eyelids once more, brow furrowed with displeasure at your wakefulness as the Radio Demon laughed beside you.

"Why good morning, dearest, how lovely to see you!"

He teased exuberantly as you huffed in reply, just barely opening your eyes enough to make it obvious that you were glaring at him before closing them once more to yawn.

"Ah ah ah,"

Your lover tutted from beside you, his grin wide and immensely amused as he continued,

"I'm afraid the time for rest is over, my dear. No more exhaustion allowed."

You scoffed in response, only just barely fighting off the urge to flip him off as you sat up slightly, tugging your knees toward your chest and blinking your blurred vision away to the sound of barely moving water and a whispered breeze that always seemed to flow through the far less inhabitable side of the room you and your husband slept in.

Satisfied with your vague efforts to get up for the day, Alastor hummed in contentment, standing just as he always did after waking you so he could continue his typical routine, allowing your hungry eyes to follow him eagerly.

It was like this every morning, and you'd be a fool to believe he didn't know and find some semblance of amusement within it, but even still you couldn't bring yourself to care.

You gained far too much enjoyment from watching your love's lithe and nimble fingers do up the buttons of his shirt and tie the fabric of his bow tie to feel any shame over it.

Or, at least, enough shame to make you stop.

You continued your enraptured staring for several more minutes, eyes trained heavily on the view of the overlord rolling up his sleeves and sliding his belt through the loops of his dress slacks as if he were a modern art exhibit designed to utterly enthrall you.

Your gawking continued all the way up until Alastor turned back toward where you were sitting upon the bed, his head tilted slightly in mock curiosity as he began to approach you once more, donning all but his coat, a sight which made you blush in spite of yourself.

Sure, you had known the demon for an extremely long time and had seen him in far more compromising and promiscuous positions and outfits than this, but still. There was just something about the sight of him, dress shirt sleeves rolled up over his elbows and svelte torso and legs so clearly in view, that made your heart rate quicken inside your chest.

"You're going to be late, you know."

Alastor all but crooned suddenly, snapping you out of your reverie with a few quick blinks and an awkward clear of your throat.

"Huh?"

You asked, sitting up slightly further as your lover began to leisurely unfold the clothing he'd laid out for you at the foot of the bed earlier that morning, no doubt all too aware of how slow you were prone to waking up and hoping to save some time.

The overlord chuckled, a subtle shake of his head highlighting his amusement as he looked in your direction once more, red eyes lingering in a manner that reminded you of just how tremendously the being standing at the end of the bed adored you.

He regarded you with a gentle and exasperated fondness as he replied,

"The reopening is today, dear heart."

He purred, grin as wide as ever as he approached further, extending his hand outward and helping to maneuver you so your legs were hanging off the side of the bed, ignoring the sudden panic in your expression brought on by his words and quickly silencing it before it could be vocalized with a quick press of his lips to yours.

He pulled away slowly afterward, index finger curling beneath your chin and lifting it to ensure you were looking him in the eye,

"And whatever would we do without our darling front desk receptionist there to woo our guests on sight?"

His tone was teasing now, lilting and oh-so amused as he took both of your hands in his and slowly pulled you upward and onto your feet, humming that same distantly familiar tune from earlier all the while.

"Not to worry though."

Alastor continued with a mocking tap of his index finger against the tip of your nose,

"With my help you'll be up and ready with time to spare."

He winked at that, instantly causing you to roll your eyes before knowingly bringing your arms up above your head, causing your love's grin to widen further at your immediate understanding of what was to come.

"Well look at you!"

He cried with feigned surprise and delight as he grasped gently at the hem of your sleep shirt, tugging it upward and over your head with a flourish before he knelt down before you and pulled your underwear downward just the same, his eyes never once leaving yours as he did so.

"You're becoming a regular pro at this, darling."

You scoffed a bit at that, though your lack of exasperation was made clear by the lifted corners of your mouth, never quite able to lay flat with your Alastor around.

Humming a different tune now, the sinner reached behind you on the bed to grasp at a new pair of undergarments for you, holding them open to make them easy to step into before pulling them up and rising with them, laying the fabric flat upon your hips before moving to help you with your bra.

Far too used to this process by now, you simply sighed and let your lover do as he would, your still tired body leaning into his every touch as he ran skilled fingertips up and down your spine and pressed them dexterously into the tense muscles of your shoulders until he felt you were sufficiently relaxed beneath his hands.

Once that was finished, he was quick to have you sit upon the bed, long fingers grabbing at your stockings and garters and bunching them up expertly before sliding them onto your feet and up your soft legs and thighs with ease, though he was notably slower with this task than he'd been with the previous two, taking his time to admire you and allowing his hands to feel your skin before covering it with the fabric in his grasp.

When he was finally satisfied with the state of your stockings, Alastor leaned back slightly, taking in the sight of you with a pleased smile and an ever adoring look in his eye before he placed twin kisses against the skin just above where your garters held your stockings into place, as if in farewell.

It was then and only then, with his desires to admire you satisfied (at least in part) that your beloved grabbed your work attire from the bed. It was something he had chosen for you himself when considering the concept of uniforms, a sweet yet professional looking black dress that you knew from having tried it on a few days prior fit you perfectly, (no doubt because your lover had long since memorized your measurements and given them to the tailor himself).

Pooling the rich fabric at your feet, Alastor looked up at you expectantly, and immediately, you stepped into the middle of it, allowing him to once more pull another garment up your body, rising with it as he had previously with your underwear until your arms were in the sleeves and all there was left to do was zip up the back.

Feeling the cool breeze upon your spine, you shivered slightly, the difference in temperatures striking.

"Al,"

You murmured, adjusting your hair to ensure it wouldn't get in the way of what came next,

"Would you mind?"

Immediately, the overlord was nodding in almost enthusiastic agreement, motioning for you to turn around for him to provide access to the still unzipped portion of your dress.

"Why of course not, dear heart. Let me see."

Blushing at the nickname in spite of it having seen years of persistent use, you did as you were told, turning 180 degrees until you were facing away from your lover, back bared to him so his deft fingers could easily find the gold trimmed zipper there.

Grasping onto the metal between his thumb and forefinger, the demon slowly began to tug it upward with a notable level of patience, his opposite hand moving to your shoulder to push at some of the fabric there until he'd created a patch of bare flesh to press a few soft kisses to, his teeth nipping at you ever so gently from time to time just to make you jump in surprise at the unexpected sensation.

This continued for a few quiet and very much appreciated moments until finally, the overlord moved away with a dramatized sigh, pulling the black fabric of your sleeve back over your shoulder before he finished zipping your dress up the rest of the way.

Hearing your darling take a step back from where he'd been standing just behind you, you were quick to turn around to face him, your smile growing brighter when you saw the immediate fondness and adoration in his eyes, that thinly veiled softness he reserved solely for you so very apparent that it made your heart lurch happily inside of your chest.

"What do you think, Al, am I presentable?"

You asked lightheartedly, giving him a slow spin as if wanting to make sure he saw every possible angle.

Alastor all but scoffed in response, though his eyes betrayed his affections far too obviously, making it easy to tell just how much he was enjoying your slightly slower morning together.

"Don't be silly darling, you're always the belle of the ball."

He teased, reaching out to take one of your hands in his eyes as he spoke, using it to tug you closer until you were nearly chest to chest with him, eyes widened in surprise.

The next thing you knew, his lips were on yours, warm, loving, and slow, before he finally pulled away with a sigh, expression contented and smile exceedingly genuine.

"Come on then, dear."

He said after a moment of silence, stepping away once more to guide you toward the bathroom attached to the room the two of you slept in,

"Let's finish getting you ready before Charlotte sends poor Vagatha after us for being so late."

#alastor x reader #alastor imagine #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x you #hazbin x you #hazbin imagine #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel #.writes #requests #alastor fluff #alastor x reader fluff

[macfrog]

you shook me all night long sex on fire chapter one

requested by @whore-4-pedro (hope u enjoy lovely)

lived all my succession fantasies out writing this one icl. enjoy 🖤 check out my masterlist for more joel fun ‼️

pairing: ceo!joel x fem!reader

summary: as joel miller's assistant, you're expected to meet all his needs. some are a little more personal than others

warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) creepy dude at the beginning, lotta teasing and touching, mentions of female masturbation, fingering, unprotected p in v sex, semi-public sex, daddy kink, age gap (reader is late 20s, joel late 40s), alcohol and drug use, cursing, low-key inappropriate work relationship (if bad then why sexy?)

word count: 7.8k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist

You grind your ass and Joel hums into your skin. He’s getting harder by the second, you’re getting wetter. It’s not enough, what you’re doing. You need more. You lower your hand and cup him through his pants, taking hold of his bulge and massaging gently. His hips are moving, he’s rutting into your palm, both of you desperate to rid yourselves of the clothing separating your skin. “I asked,” you breathe, “what’s next on the agenda?” “Next,” Joel mumbles into your skin, “was thinkin’ I could bend you over this desk ‘n fuck you.”

It’s Friday night.

You only got home from work an hour and a half ago. Tired, hungry, sore eyes from staring at a screen all night, sore back from sitting hunched over all day. Dumped your bags at the door, ripped your clothes off by your bed, dove straight into the shower. You’d picked an outfit, curled your hair in record time, and even done your makeup before Deb called to say she was out front.

It was a ten-minute drive from your place to the hotel – it’s only a couple blocks from work. The cab driver made light conversation, talked about his daughter and her new puppy, and you both nodded and uhuhed in all the breaks in his sentences. Deb made some comment about it being easier if you’d just stayed at the office until the party, and you’d hummed in agreement, looking out the window at the regal hotel.

Truth be told, you’d rather be doing anything other than attending a work function. You’ve had a long week. A lot of meetings, paperwork, emails to be answered, and most of all, running around after your boss. It’s not all fun and games being Joel Miller’s assistant, regardless of the pay, or the view from your desk over to his.

Your head’s elsewhere when you waltz through the revolving door, heels clicking along the marble floor. The elevator – gold, by the way – slides open and you both step inside, hitting the highest button before you’re swept up twenty floors to the penthouse.

“Did you send those documents over to us yet?” Deb asks.

“Nope,” you reply, slipping out when the elevator dings. “Had to sit in on a meeting with Joel and take the fucking minutes, spent all night writing them up.”

“He won’t be pissed at you?”

“If he hadn’t insisted I was in there with him, you’d have your reports, wouldn’t you?”

She shrugs, agreeing.

“Anyway,” you continue, “I can take angry Joel. He doesn’t scare me.”

Deb chuckles as you shoulder the doors to the penthouse open.

It’s a moody dull, lit only by the lights lining the bar and small lamps decorating mahogany tables, sat next to deep green velvet couches. There are clusters of people everywhere you look; stood near shelves filled with leather-bound books, examining the view from the floor to ceiling windows, sprawled out over luxurious chairs with champagne flutes in their hands. There’s a tree in the middle of the room, branches decorated in blinking string lights reaching to a glass dome in the ceiling.

It's, like, sickeningly pretentious. You know it. Hell, you all know it. Still, in your little black dress, you strut over and take a champagne of your own, sipping on the fizzing drink with one elbow resting on the wooden bar.

“There’s my girl,” his voice coos over your shoulder. “Been watchin’ for you all night, took your time.”

You lean back, bored expression on your face.

Joel’s broad chest pulls on the white shirt he’s wearing, same one you just saw him in little over three hours ago, only without a tie; the top couple of buttons are undone to reveal his chest hair peeking through. You try not to let your eyes linger on him too long.

“You look fuckin’ ecstatic to be here.”

He leans against the bar next to you, arms crossed. When you don’t reply, he nudges you. Your champagne jolts in its glass.

“I always look like this. I’m always ecstatic to be everywhere.”

He smiles. “Why aren’t you mingling?”

“Don’t wanna.”

“’s a work event. That’s the whole point.”

“Then why are you over here talkin’ to me?”

His eyes flash across your lips, and you swear they drop for a nanosecond to your chest.

“Come on,” he says, taking your wrist in his huge hand, “some people you oughta meet.”

Joel ignores your sigh and leads you over onto a plush rug, sidling between knees to sit you down on the soft couch between himself and some bald dude in a jet blue suit, whose shirt is also undone, though much further than Joel’s. He has a chest like a hairless cat.

Cue Ball snakes an arm over the back of the couch; his fingers dance across your back. You shimmy a little closer to Joel and he notices instantly, jaw turning slowly to glance over. When he sees your knees angled toward him, seeking protection, he leans back and wraps his left arm around your shoulders, his right coming down to cup your knee.

“This,” he shakes your leg, left arm pulling you tighter against him, “is my wonderful assistant. My right-hand lady. Couldn’t do anything without her, could I?”

“Could wipe your own ass, that’s about it,” you mumble into your glass, and a roar of laughter sounds from your audience.

Joel, still leaning back, pulls his arm from you but keeps his shoulder firmly behind yours, making sure whatever the creep on your left tries, he’ll feel first. Your elbow rests in the crook of his, and you keep it there, quietly enjoying the intimacy of his body caging yours.

His left hand is settled on your thigh. You realize it after a swig of champagne, and start counting in your head how many seconds his fingers stay gripped on your skin.

He talks with his hands – always has. Walks around his office, ranting and raving sometimes, arms swinging around in the air while you take notes, or file your nails, or just watch until he’s done. For the next half hour, though, he only talks with his right hand. Only sips his beer with his right hand. Only scratches his beard, or pulls his phone from his pocket, or reaches up and passes you a second drink, and then a third, with his right hand.

You stay rigid, legs unmoving, eyes barely leaving his knuckles, locked tight around your thigh. There’s heat from his touch siphoning from his palm down through your skin, rippling like waves all through your body and pooling somewhere south of your belly button. No matter how hard you try, you can’t shake it. Can’t stop thinking about it. You barely notice when Cue Ball’s hand ghosts across your back a second time.

But Joel notices, straight away. He flashes the guy a look, and you swear he’s baring his teeth. Eyes locked on the blue suit like it’s a target, never blinking. He doesn’t say anything when his prey excuses himself to the bathroom, and you don’t turn to watch him go, but you do notice three other sharp-suited pricks stand and wander off in that direction after him.

Probably not a coincidence.

Joel still has a hold on your leg. Your flute is empty, and you lean forward to place it on the wooden table at your knees, beginning to stand.

His grip loosens, but he looks up at you as you tower over him.

“Cocktail,” you tell him with a sweet smile, and he nods, letting you go.

You know he’s watching you as you slink away. Is it the alcohol in your system, or something darker, that makes you sway your hips a little more for his benefit?

Deb’s over at the bar with Martha, another of Joel’s assistants. She’s around his age, worked for him much longer than you have, but when he hired you, you took on most of the groundwork. Following Joel’s orders– sorry, requests, organizing meetings, filing paperwork for him. Martha sits at a desk outside Joel’s office, answers the phone and directs anyone who happens to wander up to the top floor of the building.

Did I say directs? I meant strikes coldblooded fear within them and sends them back running the way they came, with just one look and a nod in the opposite direction.

Unless they’re there for a meeting with Joel, that is. And if they are, that’s where you come in. Good morning, Mr. Salazar, Mr. Miller will be right with you. This way, he’s just finishing up a call.

Martha’s a tough nut. But she likes you enough, so she smiles warmly as you approach.

“I’m hearing all about your note-taking this afternoon,” she hums when you hop up onto a barstool, catching the bartender’s eye. He trots over.

You sigh to Martha, eyes wide. “I didn’t leave until, like, eight. What the fuck’s that about? Can I just get a cosmopolitan, please?” you ask, and the bartender nods. He looks about fifteen.

Martha shakes her head, laughing. “He did it to me when I was first startin’ out, too. Told him to stick his minutes where the sun don’t shine.”

“I’ve been here three years,” you mutter, and Deb snorts.

“You’d think Joel would’ve changed his ways in the, what, seven decades since you started, Martha?”

It earns her a slap across the shoulder. You stifle your laugh behind your glass, thanking the teenager who served you it with a nod.

“Twenty years next March, actually,” Martha says.

“That so? D’you think he’ll get you anything for it?”

“If I’m lucky,” she sighs, eyes travelling up to the ceiling in thought, “a lunch break where he doesn’t bother me once.”

“Knowing Joel, that means a lunch break where he bothers you twice.”

You smile, glancing past the pretentious tree to where Joel is, and notice he’s already staring right back. A swarm of butterflies flutter around your stomach, dancing over the heat his handprint left within you. They only grow more violent when he stands and walks over, broad shoulders swaying, eyes flitting up and down your body.

You lean back, sitting up straight, eyeing him right back as he joins the three of you.

“Speak of the devil,” Martha says, and Joel chuckles in response, but his eyes never leave you.

“We were just talkin’ about Martha’s twenty years,” says Deb, winking.

He finally turns to answer her. “Oh, yeah? When’s that, then, old-timer?”

“Dirtball!” Martha yells, and Joel smirks. It goes straight to your core.

“How many Manhattans tonight, then, Deb?”

Deb holds her glass up. “I am on my second, and I will not be exceeding three. We don’t need a repeat of Christmas.”

“Aw,” Joel complains, tutting, “I liked hammered Deb.”

“That’s ‘cause you didn’t have to deal with hungover Deb,” you mutter, and she shoots you a look.

Joel smiles at you, takes a step closer as Deb and Martha begin comparing past hangovers. He leans forward, waves the fifteen-year-old down, and asks for a beer. As he leans back, you notice the weight of his wrist on your right hip. Nicely done.

“You know there are four guys in the bathroom doing coke?”

“I hope to God that’s all they’re doin’. I don’t need another orgyhappenin’ at one of these things.”

You giggle like a fucking schoolgirl. He looks pleased with himself, and you instantly regret it. You try to play it off by lifting your glass back to your lips.

Joel’s studying you, though, mapping every inch of your face. Watching your mouth as it curves around the shape of the glass, your tongue licking your lips after your sip. He tracks the glass as you set it back down on the bar, then his eyes trail along your arm to your dress, and your stomach leaps.

He looks so fucking good, it sends another wave of energy through your body. Dark hair lined with grey, beard much the same. Strong jaw, lips wetting with every sip of beer he takes, dark eyes flitting across yours, holding your stare long enough to melt you a little, and then dipping just before you can read the thoughts behind them.

His skin a little tanned, his neck thick with muscle. You can feel the heat radiating off of him, you’re so close. Close enough that you could lean up, part your lips and sink your teeth under his ear, suck a mark there, taste him on your tongue.

Your head cocks after a few minutes silence, just the two of you enjoying the fucking look of each other. You lean a little against his arm, steady around your back.

“I hate work parties,” you sigh.

Joel scoffs. “Free alcohol, nice penthouse. Cocaine, if you want it. What’s not to like?”

You narrow your eyes and he laughs for real.

“I hate ‘em, too, baby. Gotta keep up appearances, though, don’t we?”

Baby. This fucker.

“Do we?” you squeak, after a few seconds dazed.

He shrugs. “’s what I hear.”

He’s so close you can smell the beer on his tongue. It makes your heart quicken, your body hum with energy. That could just be the alcohol in your system, though, right?

Who are you kidding? It’s fucking Joel doing it to you.

You have no idea how long he was here before you arrived. He left the office around six, and you presumed he’d come straight here to check everything was in order before guests started arriving. How many beers has he had? Is he just drunk, feeling up on you with liquid courage?

You’re mulling over the thought when a pair of hands clamp down on Joel’s shoulders and his hold on your waist loosens. He mumbles an apology as he’s dragged away by a couple of loose-collared, baggy-suit drunks. You shake your head in response, trying to be cool – It’s all good, man. I’m good. I’m not totally fawning over you right now, no way.

Deb swings her barstool around when she notices you’re on your own, inviting you back into their conversation. Thirty seconds into talking about childhood pets, you’re wishing Joel was back around you, igniting your skin and peaking your adrenaline. Max the Pomeranian is a nice picture; Joel’s nicer.

Martha says something with a hand motion, and Deb nods, elbow knocking into yours.

“What?”

She nods toward the balcony. “We’re headin’ out for a smoke, you comin’?”

“Nah, I’m good. I’ll save your seats.”

They nod and wander off between a crowd, swallowed up by bodies in the direction of the open sliding doors, the blinking lights of the skyline ahead.

You’re twirling the base of your empty glass around on its napkin when you feel that same heat behind you again, and a hand rests on the small of your back.

“Coat,” Joel mutters, pulling his suit jacket on.

“Huh?”

“Get your coat. Everyone’s headin’ across the street.”

“Why is everyone heading across the street?”

He shrugs. “Afterparty, I guess.”

“It’s a work function. It’s like–” you check your phone, “–oh, fuck, it’s almost midnight.” You screw your face up, watching as the small crowd slowly melts away through the suite doors.

“I know. I throw a good party, right?”

“So good, people are leaving it.”

He tuts. “Coat. Now.”

“I didn’t bring one.”

“You didn’t bring a coat?”

“You told me the party was here. I didn’t think we’d be walking all over town.”

“’s not all over town, baby,” Joel murmurs with a sigh. “Here.”

He peels the jacket off his shoulders and you hold a hand out to stop him.

“Joel, it’s fine, it’s–”

“Quit moanin’,” he groans as he throws it over your shoulders. He scoops your hair and pulls it softly out from under the collar. “Alright? C’mon.”

He takes your hand and leads you past some stragglers down the hall toward the elevator, where a group are waiting for the doors to open.

“Tight squeeze, Miller,” some dude chuckles as you follow Joel in, his hand still gripping yours.

He turns, backing into the corner, pulling you with him until your back is flush against his chest.

His hands drop to your hips. You swallow back a scream.

One of the accountants is stood in front of your – Harriet? Helen? Something beginning with H – anyway, she keeps knocking back into you, pushed by the sway of the packed elevator. It means you knock a little into Joel, and feel his chin on the crown of your head.

You turn ever so slightly to mumble an apology to him, but when you feel his breath on the shell of your ear, your words die in your throat.

“Hazel?” – That’s her fucking name – Joel reaches around you to tap her shoulder, and her bobbed haircut swings when she turns. “Did you get those balance sheets yet?”

“Not yet, Joel,” she tells him, and your face prickles with heat.

“No? That’s weird.” Joel’s grip tightens on your hips, his mouth dangerously close to your ear. In a low whisper, only to you, he says, “Thought I asked to have ‘em sent over by this afternoon.”

You muster up the courage to reply with a deep breath. From the corner of your mouth, through gritted teeth, you tell him, “That was before you forced me to sit in on a buyers’ meeting.”

You feel his chest rumble between your shoulder blades as he laughs. The elevator shudders to a stop and the doors slide open; the crowd spills out.

You step forward, ahead of Joel, and make it maybe three steps before he’s back on you, an arm draped over your shoulders. You reach up and take his hand, leaning against his strong torso to let him guide you toward the exit.

No idea what makes you do it. Maybe you’re drunk. Maybe not only on alcohol.

You’re the last of the pack, stumbling over air across the gleaming floor toward the revolving door, which Joel pushes open for you. The cool night breeze hits you as you slip out.

The crowd ahead are rushing across the street, yelling and whooping as they go. It’s juvenile, a little cringe. A bunch of rich corporates skipping across the street toward cheap alcohol and peanuts. You’d care more about the way it looks if you were sober.

Joel’s hand finds yours again and he’s leading you down the steps, cutting between parked cars toward the dive bar. You link your other arm around his elbow and he glances down, noting it. You wish the walk was longer.

A flickering fluorescent light drowns you both in a red glow, and Joel pushes the doors open. The place is flooded with half of your party, drowning booths, leaning against the bar, dancing in any open floorspace.

The floor is sticky, the bar dim. Joel takes you over to the same crowd he introduced you to earlier, and makes space for you to sit. You slide along the booth to the wall and he follows, squeezing up to you to let two more in after him.

“Beers?” a guy with a loose tie asks, to a chorus of yeses and a show of thumbs up. Mitch? Mark?

You tug Joel’s jacket from your shoulders – the movement nudges him and he turns to lift it from your back and tuck it behind you, brushing the hair off your shoulders. You smile in thanks, and his hand falls back onto your leg.

It takes you a few minutes to notice it this time. The gentle squeeze of his fingers around your thigh, the way it slowly bumps up each time he adjusts in his seat or shifts to allow space for someone else to join the booth.

His hand moves slowly, dangerously close to pulling your skirt up with it. Mitch or Mark returns with your beers and you take a massive swig, nerves and anticipation and fucking need for Joel to keep doing what he’s doing, taking over.

Under lights blurred by the alcohol in your system, the table buzzes with energy and chatter and laughter. There are posters and stickers all over the walls, graffiti of names and initials, numbers and dates scored into the walls. Joel traces them with his finger and you laugh at some of the messages.

“Lydia and Jack,” you mumble, “12-24-19. Wonder what happened then.”

“Bathroom sex,” Joel replies, eyes scanning the wall.

You scoff, beer to your lips. “On Christmas Eve?”

He nods, like it’s obvious. “Magical time ‘n all.”

You look past him with a smile to the opposite side of the bar where, through silhouetted bodies, you notice a jukebox.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Your eyes widen, your mouth agape.

Joel follows your eyeline and then twists back around. “C’mon,” he says, taking your hand and motioning for the others to let you by. He drags you over to the machine, lighting your faces up in yellow light, and your drunk eyes scan the screen.

“Nope." You swipe Joel’s hand away right before he can pick some Pet Shop Boys song.

“Really?”

“Good, but not the vibe,” you tell him, and budge him out of the way with your hip. He sways off, laughing, and leans a palm against the jukebox, his chest on your back for the second time tonight. As your tired eyes scan the songs, Joel’s chin rests on your shoulder.

He’s judging every fucking song you linger on. “Queen? Little before your time.”

“Dick.”

“Fleetwood Mac. Definitely before your time.”

“The entire fucking jukebox is before my time, dude. Shut up. These are good songs.”

You settle on a track and turn to face him. He has you almost fucking pressed against the box.

“Change, please.”

“Oh, I’m payin’, am I?”

“Mhm. Your work party, your wallet.”

He sighs and pushes a fist into his pocket for coins, tossing a quarter into your outstretched palm. You turn back and select your song, put the money in, and the old machine barks out the intro.

Joel sighs, shaking his head. “AC/DC? That’s your thing?”

“It’s not yours?” You’re taking him by the hand between bodies, swaying as you go.

He’s laughing, following you until you’re in the middle of the cramped bar, chest to chest, moving together. His hands find your waist again and this time you don’t even flinch; your fingers trail up his shirt, across his chest, settle on his collar.

You fucking swear he’s leaning in, each beat of the song drawing his jaw closer to yours. If you weren’t in a room full of co-workers, you’d probably let him kiss you.

I mean, what you’re doing right now is hardly innocent anyway. His hands are splayed on your lower back, your hips flat against his, rubbing, dancing. Your head rolls back and your lips are under his chin, smiling up at him and singing along. Joel sings the words straight back, your breath meeting and mingling in the tiny gap between your lips.

As the song ends, it fades into another. And another, and another. It’s two in the morning before your group of partiers begin to call taxis. You stumble out of the sweaty bar with an arm linked through Deb’s, still singing along to Whitney as you catch your breath.

She staggers off to a quieter part of the street to call a cab, and you hang around under the red light waiting for her. Joel’s stood at the curb; the back door of his sleek black Rolls-Royce open.

“Where you goin’?” he asks.

“Deb’s callin’ a cab,” you reply, arms folded, shoulders hunched.

Joel shakes his head. “Get in.”

“It’s cool, I’m jumping in with those guys. Thanks, though–”

“Baby,” Joel holds a hand out, “get in.”

Your eyes trace from his palm all the way up his sleeve, to his tired, handsome face. You’re sobering up. He looks clearer. Maybe that’s just the streetlights.

“Get you home in five minutes. C’mon.”

You swivel around to look for Martha and Deb, but they’re nowhere to be seen. The cab will come, they’ll assume you’re staying a while, and get in. No big deal, right?

Well. Stepping into your boss’s car after a night of highly inappropriate touching is kind of a big fucking deal.

That’s why you do it. Waddle over to him, take his hand, let him guide you to the car. You swing a leg in and slip across the seats, admiring the ceiling dotted with hundreds of tiny white lights, like you’re staring straight up at the night sky.

They blur through your drunken gaze, which doesn’t pull from them until you feel the weight of Joel on your right and hear the door slam shut.

“Mind puttin’ the partition up, Rand?” Joel’s voice says, though you mostly hear the vibrations through his chest, where your head is lying. His arm slips around your back, pulling you closer into him as the two of you are granted privacy by the quiet whir of the screen closing.

“Good night?” Joel asks, lips on your hair.

You nod. “You?”

“Mhm.”

His fingers are drawing shapes on your left hip. His right hand intertwines with yours. Your left hand starts to wander.

You liked his hand on you. Liked feeling his grip there. Wanted him to keep moving it up, wanted to see how far he’d take it. So, you put your own hand on the inside of his thigh, just like he did. Starting at the knee, and slowly sliding north. Joel’s breath tightens, his chest lifts, his jaw ticks.

The movement knocks you sober for a couple seconds. You realize what you’re doing. You draw your hand back.

“Sorry,” you mutter.

He unlinks your hands and places a steady palm over your withdrawn fist.

“’s okay, baby. You can do that if you want to.”

The drawl of his voice makes your eyes roll back, your heart leap. Your fucking legs clench.

You let him replace your hand where it was, and his legs widen a little. His crotch more available. You’re watching what you’re doing like you’re not even in your own body; watching it how Joel must be, thinking Higher, higher, keep going, keep doing that.

You lift your heavy head, resting it on his shoulder, and look up into his brown eyes. He’s framed by the starlit ceiling of the car. He’s looking at you, brows furrowed, face lined with his expression.

“You okay?” he asks.

You nod lazily. “Tired.”

Just then his hand takes yours again and shifts it softly, stopping what was probably about to happen but still holding onto you, still wanting your fingers locked in his. Not halting the train, just switching tracks.

It’s not a long journey, certainly not as long as you’d like, until you’re parked on your street. Rand lowers the partition to call back, and Joel thanks him.

“You okay gettin’ to your apartment?”

“Yup,” you groan, hoisting yourself out of the comfortable car.

“Sure? I can walk you up if you want.”

You bend down, one arm on the roof of the car. “I’m good, thanks. Thanks for the ride, Miller.”

“Be safe, baby.”

“You be safe, too. Bye.”

You throw the door closed and meander off up the steps toward your building. Joel’s car doesn’t roll off until your elevator arrives and you disappear inside.

You spend all weekend in bed, recovering not only from the party but from the week of work you’d endured. You keep yourself busy, though. There’s a Desperate Housewives marathon on TV. And when you’re not watching that, your hand is stuffed down your pants, Joel on your mind.

All. Fucking. Weekend.

In the shower, you’re picturing him on his knees in front of you, lapping you up. Hands gripping your thighs, draped over his shoulders. Your hand plants firmly against the wet tile when you cum, your orgasm threatening to collapse you in a heap.

In bed, you’re on top of him, knees either side of his waist, letting him buck his hips up until you’re screaming, covering him in your wet. Your vibrator battery dies by Saturday night.

Monday morning, you’re getting ready to leave for the office, and need to take ten minutes out to relieve the ache between your legs again. This time, he has you pressed against your bedroom wall, fucking you quick and messy, cumming deep inside you before he’ll let you head out.

It’s just a crush, right? It’s just because of how touchy you guys were on Friday. When you were drunk. And in a cramped, dark dive bar. Everybody gets crushes. And who wouldn’t, on a six-foot-whatever man with a jawline that could cut glass, hands that take a grip of you with minimal effort, a cock probably the size of…

No. Nope. That’s enough. Cut that the fuck out.

It’s just a crush. That’s what you keep telling yourself in the elevator, lights counting down the floors until you’re going to see Joel again. Is the sparkling feeling in your chest fear, anticipation, or excitement?

And is your cunt beginning to throb again?

You give a curt nod to Martha as you arrive, hauling your bag a little further up your shoulder and adjusting the folders in your arms on your hips.

“Where’d you go?” she asks, eyes still on the computer in front of her. Her chin propped on her elbow, face inches from the screen, reading something intently.

“Huh?”

“On Friday. We couldn’t find you when the cab arrived.”

“Oh, I, uh,” you clear your throat, “Joel gave me a ride. Yeah.”

She raises her eyebrows. “Generous of ‘im.”

“Yup.”

“He’s in the conference room waitin’ for you.”

“Cool, thanks.”

You hover for a few seconds, then take your cue to leave. You hurry over to the conference room door, knocking twice before pushing it open.

Joel’s sat at the top of the table, leant back in his chair, feet up on the wood in front of him. You feel like you could collapse.

“Mornin’,” he says, over the dull droning from the phone. Your eyes flit down to it, a question, and he answers, “weekend update.”

“Anything good?”

He shakes his head, leaning forward to hit the unmute button, affirm whatever the hell the other dude had been saying, say his goodbyes, and then hang up.

“Feelin’ fresh?” he asks when he’s sat back.

You take a deep breath and wobble your head as an answer, laying files and folders out on the table in preparation for the meeting Joel has this morning.

“That bad, huh?”

“I was fine by Saturday afternoon. How were you?”

He shrugs. “Wasn’t that drunk.”

Yeah. Sure, Joel. Your fingers took the brunt of the alcohol.

He stands up, wanders around the table to join you. Your fingers begin to tremble at the thought of him so close. Your thighs heat.

“This all of it?” he asks. He’s closer than you thought.

“Y-yep. Some copies there, too, if anyone needs a spare.”

His hand slips up between your shoulder blades, patting you gently at the base of your neck.

“Good job, baby.”

You almost fucking shudder. Your stomach jolts, your chest tightens. The ache between your legs pangs, reminding you it’s there, even though you can’t fucking do anything about it.

You spin around, settling back against the table, ankles crossed. Tense.

“How long do you reckon it’ll go on?”

“No idea. Why? Somewhere you gotta be?”

You shake your head. “Just organizing lunch ‘n stuff for you.”

“That can wait until after.”

“I’ll have it ready for you comin’ out. Be easier.”

He steps forward. Your heart stutters.

“You’ll be in here with me.”

You cock your head. “Again? What– Why?”

“I need you in here. To take–”

“–minutes? Yeah, figured as much. You gonna have me up here all night again writing ‘em up?”

He smirks, dimples in his cheeks. There are two options here: either smack him, or jump his bones – he deserves the first and you deserve the latter.

“I like having you in my meetings, darlin’,” he says, as the door handle turns, “stops me wanting to blow my brains out.”

Martha enters and Joel slots in alongside you on the table. She sets a tray with a coffee pot and packets of sugar and milk on the sideboard.

Your head is fucking dizzy. There’s a ringing in your ears. Energy sparkling in waves from the tops of your thighs all through you. Joel’s shoulder brushing against yours, his eyes boring into the side of your face.

You won’t look at him. Won’t take your eyes off of Martha, laying paper coffee cups out in rows, her back to you guys.

Joel lays a palm flat on your thigh, rounding the curve until his hand is firm between your legs, threatening to push your skirt up. You feel his breath hot on your neck, his voice like honey in your ear.

“Makes for a nice view, too.”

You whip around to glare at him. He leans back, chuckling to himself.

Through gritted teeth, you whisper, “Can I talk to you? In private?”

Joel shrugs, excuses you both to Martha, and then follows at your heels out of the conference room and over to his office door. You waltz in without permission, shoving the door open and waiting for him to close it behind himself.

Joel’s office is bright, clean. Giant windows lining three walls, huge desk with an even bigger bookcase behind. Two black leather couches opposite, facing one another with a glass coffee table between. Soft white rugs, obnoxiously huge lampshades, small fern plants dotted here and there. You found and booked the interior designer for him, and not a day’s gone by since that you don’t remind him of how nice a job you did.

Today, though, you break that streak. You round on him as soon as he closes the tall, wooden door behind him.

“Will you fucking quit it?”

“Fucking quit what, baby?” He’s almost laughing, strolling around his desk and settling into his leather chair, leaning back. Casual. Fucking – arrogant.

You stammer, holding up a shaky finger. “Okay, first of all – that. Don’t call me baby, that’s not appropriate. Second – the teasing?”

“I don’t get it, you liked me callin’ you baby on Friday night.”

You take your bottom lip between your teeth and give him a furious stare. He holds his hands up.

“My mistake.”

You stalk over to the windows separating Joel’s office from the reception area. Martha’s still in the conference room, the door ajar. You haul the shades shut to give yourselves some privacy.

“Stop – fucking with me. Stop it. We were drunk on Friday night. It wasn’t– Stop.”

“’m not fucking with you.” He leans his head to scratch his eyebrow. He repeats it when you turn away, hands flying up in the air. “I’m not.”

“Let’s just forget Friday happened, can we do that?”

Wandering around Joel’s office isn’t doing anything to relieve the weight between your legs. If anything, it’s making it worse. You make your way back to his desk and place your hands down on the wood, leaning over.

“Wh…what’s next on the agenda?” you ask, almost panting, your eyes closing.

You hear Joel’s chair rock when his weight leaves it. His footsteps pad across soft carpet, around the desk. Nearing you. They come to a halt and you feel the air stop short, right behind you.

For someone not trying to fuck with you, he’s doing an awfully good job at it.

You surrender, leaning back, your shoulders making contact with his chest. Then his hands find your hips, light, gentle. No pressure on them, not until your ass presses against his crotch and your head tilts, allowing Joel to hook his chin over your shoulder.

He’s hard, under his pants. Against you. You can feel it, still, steady. Rock solid beneath four layers of clothing.

His hands lift from your waist and glide up your shirt front, your stomach tensing when they brush over it. They come to rest over your breasts, squeezing and pinching your nipples through your shirt. And you fucking let him; lifting your right arm to hook around his jaw and pull him closer into your neck, where his lips leave soft, wet marks.

It feels like the first gasp of fresh, sea air after being underwater. The first gulp of chilled water after a hike. The first wave of aircon in the car. It’s relief. It’s desperate, borderline orgasmic relief.

You grind your ass and Joel hums into your skin. He’s getting harder by the second, you’re getting wetter. It’s not enough, what you’re doing. You need more.

You lower your hand and cup him through his pants, taking hold of his bulge and massaging gently. His hips are moving, he’s rutting into your palm, both of you desperate to rid yourselves of the clothing separating your skin.

“I asked,” you breathe, “what’s next on the agenda?”

“Next,” Joel mumbles into your skin, “was thinkin’ I could bend you over this desk ‘n fuck you.”

“Fuck me?” you repeat, and he nods. You take a breath. “S-sounds good.”

Joel’s hands find the hem of your skirt and start to pull it up your legs, painfully slow, revealing more and more of your bare thighs as he goes. He’s rubbing them, massaging until your skirt sits on your hips, little black panties exposed. His hand comes down to cup you, fingers gently applying pressure to your clit through the lace.

You moan, finally being touched by him again, finally feeling his hands on you where you need it most. Already, he’s doing better, making you feel better than you could ever by yourself. Than you did, by yourself. Involuntarily, you breathe out, “Daddy…”

Joel’s fingers pick up the pace. He fucking loves it.

“That feel good, baby? Like it like that? Tell me how it feels.”

“So – fucking – good,” you whisper, legs parting more to grant him better access. He dips his hand lower, thumb staying planted on your lace-covered clit, fingers shifting the fabric under your entrance aside.

He toys with you first, middle finger swaying back and forth through your folds, collecting slick, spreading it around. Then, a second finger, pushing upward, dangerously close to entering you. You’re gasping, leaning into him, letting his strong form keep you upright.

“That’s my girl,” Joel’s whispering into your ear. “You ain’t gotta do nothin’, just enjoy.”

And then he pushes up, two thick, curled fingers entering your cunt in one motion. He has you down to his knuckles, limp against his chest, mouth wide open in a silent gasp. Your head rolls to the side to watch him as he feels you for the first time, and his expression mirrors yours.

“So fuckin’ wet, babygirl,” he whispers, lips on your forehead.

“Fuck, daddy,” you whimper as his fingers press hard inside your soft pussy, starting to pump gently before picking up the pace and fucking you good.

The office is silent, save for your gasps and moans, and the wet sounds of Joel’s fingers in your cunt. He hums into your neck, thumb pressing hard against your clit, drawing tiny circles over the swollen bud.

It doesn’t take fucking long before you’re collapsing, walls clenching, teetering on the edge of your orgasm. It’s all that’s been on your mind for almost three days, all you’ve imagined, dreamt about, thought of.

Joel feels you, knows you’re close.

“Wanna cum all over daddy’s fingers, pretty girl?”

“Mhm,” you bite back a yelp, “so – close.”

“Know you are, baby. It’s okay, you can cum. Let me feel you.”

That coil, slowly winding since approximately nine-thirty on Friday night, not relieved by your hands, your toys, or your fucking pillows, snaps in one second. The tension breaks across your stomach. Your legs give; Joel’s free hand wraps around your waist to hold you upright.

You throw your head back against his shoulder again, jaw slack with a moan you know you can’t give voice to. Joel fucks you all the way through it, fingers coated in your cum only to dive straight back in, wetter and slicker than before.

There are stars in your vision. You can’t feel between your legs. The office is slowly blinking back into view, but Joel gives you no time to recover.

He pushes you face down onto his desk roughly, hastily, like someone’s about to wander through his door any second. One ear pressed to the cold wood, you hear his belt clink, feel the teeth of his zipper graze your thighs. Hear his deep breaths as he drags his pants and boxershorts down to free his cock.

You’ve never seen him, obviously. You’ve pictured it, dreamt up what it would look like with your fingers deep inside yourself. And from this angle you still don’t see it, but when the weight of it springs against your ass, when Joel lines himself up and his tip dips between your cum-covered folds, you fucking feel it.

His thick head pushing slightly into your entrance, coating him in your slick. He’s big. You moan at the time he’s taking to just shove into you; it’s probably seconds, but it feels like fucking hours.

“I hear ya, I know,” he’s saying, but your hearing’s starting to fade. Blood pumping through your head, white noise rattling against your eardrums.

He pushes in, length separating your clenched walls, entering your wet, warm cunt with a deep growl from Joel’s lips and a gasp from yours. You open up around him, swelling as he pushes deeper and deeper.

“So – fuckin’ – tight for me, baby,” he groans, hands on your hips pulling you back onto his length. “You feel that? Feel how tight you are?”

“Mhm,” you reply, the stretch of his thick cock burning and igniting you in flame. Your eyes screw shut as he keeps pushing, further than you ever thought anyone could, until his tip kisses your cervix and you whine.

“Quiet, babygirl,” he says, pausing and placing a steady hand on the small of your back. “We don’t need anyone out there knowin’ what we’re doin’.”

“So good, daddy,” you whimper quietly, and he knows. He fucking knows.

He begins to draw back, hips leaving your ass, cock pulling out of your pussy. Your eyes roll closed, missing him the more he withdraws. Before he’s fully gone, he snaps back inside, entering you harder, faster, deeper.

You gasp, knuckles whitening with the grip of your balled fists. You bend one arm, biting into your sleeve to stop your whimpers from slipping under the door.

A couple more thrusts and Joel’s fucking you. Hard. He’s fucking huge, so huge it blurs the edges of your vision every time his cock hits against your cervix. He’s almost fucking whimpering behind you, growling your name with every stroke, groaning each time he bottoms out inside you and your tight hole wraps around his length.

You can feel the edge of the table bruising your pelvis, and it feels so fucking good. Everything about this feels good. Joel’s cock stretching you out, his hands gripping you roughly, your own hands outstretched to hold onto the desk for some sort of stability.

The only thought going through your head, only words your lips can part to utter: daddy daddy daddy.

“Good girl,” Joel hums, your moans like music to his ears. “Good fuckin’ girl. Know how naughty you are for me?”

You smile. “Yeah, daddy.”

This is the filthiest thing you’ve ever fucking done. Sure, you love sex, especially when it’s rough. But nothing you’ve ever done with anyone else, nothing you’ve ever had done to you by anyone else, compares to being bent over your boss’s desk and fucked dumb by him.

Calling him daddy, corporate managers slowly filing into a conference room just outside. Only an unlocked door separating them from you, writhing and throbbing under Joel’s cock, his rough hands on your hips, your name passing his lips in breathy moans.

Is it wrong? Yes. Do you care? Fuck no.

You know he’s close; his thrusts become sloppy, hips start hammering against you.

“Where d’you want it, baby?” he grunts, skin slapping.

You’re on the pill, and if you answered honestly, you’d tell him to finish inside you. But you know that if he wanted to do that, he’d just fucking do it. Wouldn’t ask. And you’re not prepared to waste time arguing.

“My m-mouth.”

“C’mere.” Joel slips out of you with no effort, you’re so fucking soaked for him, and spins you around. A gentle hand on your shoulder, he pushes you onto your knees, free hand jacking his cock over you.

It’s the first time you see him, fist tugging up and down a thick, veiny shaft; swollen, reddened tip spilling precum which his thumb collects and drags down his length, gleaming with your wet.

On instinct, you push forward, one hand coming to rest on his thigh, the other taking over from his on his dick. You pump him a few times, and then open your mouth wide enough to take him all the way until he’s brushing the back of your throat.

With a choke, you begin bobbing your head up and down, cheeks hollow, breathing deep through your nose. Joel moans, head rolling back, hand coming to hold your hair in a fist. He drags you back and forth a few times before he begins to shudder and you draw back, holding him steady on your swollen bottom lip.

He looks down at you and your eyes lock as he cums all over your tongue. You moan as your mouth fills with his warm, salty load. When his cock stills and he stops spilling all over you, you lean back and close your mouth, licking your lips and swallowing him.

“Aw, babygirl,” he coos, stroking your hair. “Good job. Such a good girl for me.”

You both take a few seconds to catch your breath before Joel’s hands hook under your arms and he pulls you back up, letting you lean against his desk.

Still in a daze, you feel him tug your skirt back down, fix your shirt. Tuck your hair behind your ears, wipe either saliva or cum from your lips.

“Good?” he asks, and you lace your fingers in his.

Your breath is still shaky, but through a sigh, you say, “Good.”

He nods. “Can hear Ken out front, must all be arrivin’.” He pulls you over to the door.

His fingers wrap around the handle, free hand coming up to cup your cheek. He leans down and presses his lips against yours. You open your mouth and let his tongue past, moaning into the wet, messy kiss.

Something in you almost wants to laugh, thinking about the fact you let him fuck you before you’d even kissed him.

When he pulls away, your hands take hold of his jaw, keeping him at your height.

“Have a good meeting,” you whisper, pecking him on the lips, “text me what you want for lunch.”

He growls, yanking the door open and passing by you, granting your wish to sit this one out. Something in you tells you not to wander far, though.

He’ll probably want to blow off some steam when he’s done.

----------

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[rimaiahwrites]

Know better

Connie catches you playing with his gun… short spanking, bratty behavior, softish dom!connie, sub!black!reader, aftercare, fluffy.

———

Your stomach growled as you stood up from the bed and went to the kitchen to grab something to eat, then went to sit in the living room with Connie, “hi my handsome boyy.” You grinned as you leaned in to kiss him on the lips. He ignored you, mumbling a quick “wassup” while aggressively clicking on the buttons of his controller.

You huffed loudly, Connie was paying you no attention today because he was too busy on the game with his homeboys, eren, jean and ony. You pouted and laid your chin on his shoulder “Bubba you’re not paying attention to me” you whined. His eyes still glued to the tv not hearing a word you just said but apparently all the boys talking through his headset did because you could their loud asses asking for you to say hi, so you grabbed the headset from Connie and placed it on your head. “Hi boys yes it is I the princess.” They all chuckled and each said their hi’s and hello’s.

“Where you been at girl?” Eren asked, the group hasn’t hung out in a minute because normally the kickbacks were at yall house but since Connie been working way more lately nobody has really had the time to hang out.

You huffed and looked over at Connie giving him the side eye, “nothing just at home dealing with your annoying ass brother he’s been ignoring me all day-“ before you really finish Connie snatch the headset from you. You flipped him off and grabbed your phone to go back up stairs. “She tripping y’all know she spoiled as fuck.” Stomping your back up stairs to your room to find something to do and just as you walked past the dresser Connie’s gun was just sitting there. Curiosity got the best of you and you grabbed the heavy weapon, it looked so big in your hand compared to the way it looked in Connie’s. You pulled your bonnet off and posed in front of the mirror with it in your hand, your finger off the trigger. You giggled.

Maybe I need one I look like a boss bitch for real. You thought.

“Y’all niggas tripping man gimme my shit!” You whispered yelled putting the gun up and pointing it at the mirror playing like you was a gangsta like mr. baldie down stairs. You kept playing around with his loaded gun saying all the things you hear him say to people whenever he has to pull his gun out, which was only twice because he always tries to be on his best behavior when he has you around, he didn’t really like you seeing him like that or to put you in a position to be harmed with the nonsense he deals with. you were his little princess and he wanted you kept in the dark about all the stuff he puts himself into.

So he definitely didn’t playing with his gun so imagine the shook on your face when his deep voice said loudly “what the hell is you doing?” snatching the gun out your hand and placed in his waist band. “Huh? Nothing I-I was just-“

“Just what? Playing with my loaded gun? Which you know you ain’t supposed to be doing you know the rules”

“I know i was Broad you wasn’t paying me any attention!” You pouted crossing your arms, he fake pouted back and bend down to your height, “oh so you think just because I wasn’t going you my full undivided attention for a couple hours you can break the rule and go against what I say?” Hissed as he sat down on the edge of the bed, staring at you very angrily like he was up to something, it made you very nervous so you stayed as far away from the bed as possible. “Co’ mere” he said lowly making the come here motion with his finger, you stood there hands behind your back playing with the end of Connie’s over sized shirt that laid at the back of your thighs.

“Now y/n.” He said sternly making you jump a little as you made your way over to him. He grabbed you and flipped you on your face, your face was planted on the bed and your ass laid across his legs. You gasped when he pulled your shirt- well his shirt up over your booty and pulled your pink lace panties down to expose your bare skin.

“Con please no.”

“You know you ain’t supposed to be playing wit’ daddy’s gun, you know better so what happens when you don’t follow the rules?”

“I get Punished, but-“ he chuckled and pulled his hoodie off.

“Ain’t no buts, you getting 20 and don’t lose count because if you do imma start over.” He said raising his hand high up and smacking you hard on the plump of your ass making you jump, you gasped loudly reaching back to grab his hand.

“Move your hands, now put them under your chin.” He popped your hands making you whine and quickly hide them away from him. He spanked you again, the tears began to come, you tried your best to keep the sobs in but his rough hands kept coming down on your bottom so hard making it sting.

What made it even worse was you weren’t used him being so mean, your daddy has barely raised his voice at you let alone spank you as a punishment, the most he has done was give you light soft spanks when you would act up when he was in your guts. You almost didn’t know if your were crying from the pain or your feelings being hurt.

“Papa please no more!” You cried

“Nah I already told, never touch my guns so why I come up here to see you playing with it?” He asked hitting you again. You almost couldn’t get your words out

“I-I didn’t put my finger on the trigger!” You screamed.

“That doesn’t matter I told you not to touch it at all, what if you accidentally shot it? Huh? What if you accidentally shot yourself?” he was so mad and you could tell by the way his grip on your waist was getting tighter and his hand was coming down harder making your ass jump, his hand felt hot and your ass you were sure was a bright red by now. Him even thinking about you hurting yourself with HIS gun made him feel a little sick, he didn’t play about you.

You were on the last five spanks and you just couldn’t take it anymore so without thinking of the consequences you reached back and grabbed his hand looking him in the eyes with your big brown teary eyes. “Papa please no more m’ so sorry won’t do it again..” you pouted, you felt like you were in a daze. Connie could see it in your eyes that you were deep in sub space, you looked so far gone. His heart melted and pulled you up to face him.

“Ok baby no more.”

He grabbed your chubby cheeks and kissed your lips softly.

“You won’t ever do that again mama?” You shook your head fast. “I p-promise, never ever again.” You sniffled. Putting your head in his neck breathing his scent in deeply. He smiled and leaned back against the pillows resting against your headboard, he rubbed your back trying to sooth your sniffles and hiccups. He looked down and saw that your bottom was a dark red and big hand prints covering it. He put his hands on it and you jumped a little and let out a whine. He cringed a little, his poor baby he thought even if it was for your own good.

“I just wanna keep you safe and I can’t do that if you don’t listen to what I tell you sweetheart you understand?” You nodded your head still keeping your head in between his neck and shoulder. After a few minutes of silence you spoke very softly keeping your voice very low. “Are you still mad at me?”

“Look at me,” he demanded holding your face in his big vainly hands. “I’m not mad anymore ok? And you did such a good job at taking your punishment mama, my big girl.” He mumbled kissing you all over your face and neck.

“You deserve a reward for taking it like a good girl, what do you want? A new Prada bag? Shoes? Ice cream? Anything you want.”

“Mm…” you said patting your chin in thought. “How about a new bag and ice cream?” And Connie agreed because you were his spoiled good girl…most of the time.

———

Might do a part2 cuz it’s not as long as I wanted but just wanted to get this out

#connie x you #connie springer #connie x black y/n #connie x black reader #aot connie #connie snk #dom!Connie stringer #dom!connie #black!sub!reader #black!sub #dom!connie x sub!reader #aot x black reader #aot x reader #aot x y/n #aot fanfiction

[yxami]

procrastinating my history test even tho I’m doing it at home and can cheat but I refuse to, the fact that he’s a yandere tutor probably has to do with that, anyways idk how I did this shit in one sitting,

desc: dom yandere tutor x sub gn reader, tutoring you, nsfw, library, some exhibitionism ig, idk kill me now

Tap. Tap. Tap. You looked up to Wynn bouncing his finger against your paper, clearly blank. He wanted you to take notes but your mind has been too distracted with other things to even process that you were getting tutored by him.

Right. You’re getting tutored by him because of your low grade in math. You excelled in every other subject yet when it came to numbers you were like a crow with a glass puzzle. It looks easy just from observing it but once you attempted it, it was much harder.

“Listen sweetheart, I need you to pay attention because I’m not going to sit here for another hour to look at your confused face. Start listening or else I’m leaving in 5” He used his hand to lift your chin up, emphasizing his height even if he was sat.

“Got it?”

You nodded.

“Alright, Let’s try this again” He inhaled with a long exhale, cracking his fingers before drilling some more methods in your brain until you had to understand.

You weren’t really sure why he decided to help though, he was busier than you were and might’ve cancelled a plan or two. Just to help you study? It was a little odd coming from the guy who seemed to hate your guts on some days while the others he could only tolerate you.

Wynn looks at your expression that can only be described as ‘I stopped listening a few minutes ago’, tempting him to walk out and teach you a lesson, whether that be one where you understand math or comprehend that you can’t waste his time.

He chooses the second.

“Alright, cmon” He grabs your hand, leading you somewhere without any other words, even when you ask the same questions like a confused parrot with no other things to say. “Where are we going? Wynn, where?”

“If you can’t listen with my words then I’ll make you listen with my touch” He closes the door behind him, efficiently locking it as he scoops you up and placed you on the librarian’s desk. It was her office, an empty one, something you noticed after looking around.

“We can’t be in here Wynn, the Librarian’s gonna kick us out” You sat on the desk, not daring to hop off just yet, maybe you were a little curious at to what he was planning, even if you were still confused.

“Who cares? She’s probably on her lunch break” He unbuttons your shirt, likely just for the view of how you look without it, pulling you in by the loose collar for a kiss. Strawberry chapstick is what you taste when he continued to press his lips against yours. You could hear his small intakes for breath, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you further in.

“Wynn?” You say pushing him off, more out of breath than you expected which was embarrassing since he looked ready for another deep kiss.

“Mhm..?” He says in a low voice, fiddling with the button of your pants while looking at you. His husky yet whiny tone had you believing he’s been waiting for this moment for along time now.

“I don’t know.. um..” You sort of ramble incoherent words of confusion, you weren’t sure why you called his name, you wanted to ask what this was about but with some fear to what the answer might be… you kept quiet, letting him explore your body with his veiny hands.

You liked him, even if he was a little snappy, he was sweet at times, so if you heard him saying this was just to release tension after studying for so long you might just cry right here. It was a little sad to hope that he was doing it with some sort of feelings.

If only you knew this man was obsessed with you.

You’d likely figure it out by how he bent you over the wooden desk and hesitated to take you here. Yes, he’d prefer if you were in his bed confessing your infatuation and dedication to making him fall for you, but the growing hot situation of fucking you in such a risky place has him more excited.

“I’d be nicer with you but you haven’t been listening so” He pushed his finger inside your hole, after embarrassingly making you suck on his finger for a few moments while praising you. He manages to fit three fingers at a time, curling them inside, making you squirm against the desk, you’re forced to grasp at the end of it while trying to keep quiet.

“Keep quiet and I’ll be nicer, you can do that right baby?” He says in a low voice, massaging your ass before lining his tip at your entrance, you can feel yourself suctioning on nothing in a desperate need for him. You make a noise of agreement and he takes it as a sign that you’re ready.

As he pushed himself inside he can’t help but make a groan of pleasure. It was tight, warm too, and it was you. He might’ve been leaking pre during the study session just thinking about something like this.

He bottoms out inside you and pulls out right where his tip begins, slamming back into you with a surprised moan escaping your lips, you scramble to cover your mouth before he starts repeating the same hard hitting thrusts.

He’s on his 4th one before he starts noticing how you’re shivering already, even if he was yet to pick up the pace, he curls his arm around your stomach and pulls you up against him, making you arch against him at his will.

“Be good and suck on this okay?” He offers his fingers, this time to keep you quiet, you nod and wrap your lips around his left digits, the ones that weren’t inside of you.

He makes you stand as he pushes his cock in and out of you, you can feel your legs quiver as he fills you to the brim with his cock, you don’t know if there’s even space for a finger inside when he already has you feeling so full.

You gasp when he speeds up, leaving you with no warning as you whimper against his fingers, the sound of skin clashing has you even more focused on the situation. “How does it feel baby? Are you gonna start listening to me now?” He growls in your ear, pulling you closer to him as continues.

Wynn feels you tighten around him as he speaks, he knows you’re paying attention. Best believe he’s going to start using this as a way to make you listen.

You mewl at how embarrassing it was to be arching and bending just from his control, as if he wasn’t teaching you mathematics 10 minutes ago. You internally prayed that nobody was hearing all the sounds you were making while his cock crashed into your sensitive hole in a quicker pace than before.

You grabbed at anything in-front of you, which was the wooden desk the shook under his movement that pushed you against it. He leaned with you as you propped yourself against it once more.

“I can feel you tightening around me, you still haven’t gotten used to it? I guess I’ll have to teach you the shape of my cock too huh?” He whispers in your ear, nibbling on your earlobe as he teased you.

“I’ll fuck you dumb until you get it”

#yxami’s yam #yandere #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #male yandere #yandere imagines #pls request #yandere scenarios #gn reader #soft yandere #yandere tsundere #yandere nsft #yandere tutor #tutor yandere #yandere boy #yandere x reader #yandere x willing reader #yandere x darling #yandere dom

[mangoposts]

Looking for attention

C.S 🔞

“Chriiiiiissssss..” I whine out for the third time, sitting up by his headboard while he’s sat at his desk, eyes glued to the monitor before him as his fingers click away on his keyboard and the occasional curse leaves his lips when he gets knocked in fortnite. He’d been sitting in that same position for hours, clearly enjoying his time as he laughed away with his friends over his headset and continued to disregard my huffs of protest.

I pout a bit, standing and making my way towards his chair to sit on his lap..which he accepts. Not sparing me a glance as he wraps his arm around my waist to continue clicking at his keyboard unbothered.

I’m facing him, taking in the concentrated look on his face. His furrowed brows and narrowed eyes making him look all the more sexier than he usually does, making me want him more than I already did for the past hour. I bite at my lower lip subconsciously, now situating myself to straddle his right thigh as i place my hands on his chest.

“Chris, mute it for a sec.” I say. Despite him not sparing a glance, he reaches his hand up to his headset and presses down on the button beside it, ensuring his friends won’t hear our conversation before his eyes finally lift up to meet mine. His expression is a bit blank but i notice his eyes are fogging with clouds of lust from the feeling of my core against his knee. My hands roam his chest before landing at his shoulders, using them as leverage when i sit further up his lap. Now straddling his upper thigh close to his bulge.

“Please baby, you’ve been playing all day. Can I play with you a bit?” I mumble, leaning down to leave soft kisses against his neck and exposed collarbones from his black tank top. My hands squeezing his shoulders before raking my nails down his arms softly, making him shiver a bit in his seat. He looks at me, and then his monitor.

“Y/n, wait until this game is over. For real.” I whine again against his neck, having already heard that excuse twice in the last 30 minutes.

“But I want you so badly, please.” My hips begin to rock back and fourth slowly against his thigh, slightly moaning out at the hint of relief between the heat of my legs. Chris’ body tenses up slightly, beginning to feel the blood rush to his cock when his neck heats up. I smirk against the skin when I feel how burning hot his neck had become and i bite down on the skin, sucking harshly and leaving my mark. Chris grunts before shaking his head,

“If you wanna get off on my leg like a stupid dog instead of waiting 10 minutes, you do that. But don’t make a fucking sound. Got it?” He says simply, not giving me a chance to respond before he’s unmuting his mic and returning to clicking away. I nod in agreement to myself, a blush creeping up my face at his degrading words before I began biting down on more of his skin to silence any sounds i might make when i grind down onto him harder, my hips finding a solid rhythm against him and my noises threatening to spill out when the material of his jeans swipes against the thin material of my shorts covering my clit repeatedly. I breath out shakily and continue my actions, building up a faster and needier pace as i grip onto his shoulders harder.

“Fuck!” Chris shouts, doing an awful good job at distracting himself from the position i’m in when his character gets sniped in the head. The sudden jolt of his body from the reaction causing a whimper to fall past my lips due to the feeling of his thigh pressing harder against my clit. Chris is now painfully aware of my presence when the match ends, fully taking in the feeling of my wet core grinding onto his lap and my needy hands holding onto his shoulders for dear life. The shouting and huffing from his friends on the mic goes unheard by him, suddenly falling deaf against any noises that weren’t coming from my own lips. His gaze is locked onto my face, taking in my pinched shut eyes and my mouth falling open while my eyebrows furrowed, now rutting against him and chasing my high that’s burning through my stomach. Chris doesn’t even realize his hand is reaching to mute his mic and pull the headset off his head until my noises become louder and clearer due to his ears now being uncovered. He sits still, slightly flexing his thigh and watching. His own expression slowly but surely scrunching into one of pleasure that mirrors my own just by watching me use him to get off. His mouth is slightly agape and he carries that same concentrated expression, except now he’s only focused on watching my orgasm wash over me. I’m taken aback slightly as a gasp leaves my lips when he reaches his hands around my back, rubbing it and finding my hips with his fingers before he grips them and guides my pussy over his now hard cock. Controlling my movements by rocking my hips against his dick and bucking his hips up slightly. Now feeling as desperate as I was,

“You having fun? Huh? Using me to make yourself cum like a dirty lil whore?” He breathes into my ear, practically trying to fuck me through our layers of clothes from how harsh his grip is now, rutting his hips upward and constantly stimulating my clit with the rough material clinging to him.

I nod my head as I squeeze my eyes shut harder, almost forgetting to breathe as I feel my orgasm on the tip of my tongue. Tingles running through my spine and up my neck from now turned on i am. My body is pressed directly against his and there’s something about the extra fabrics between us that makes grinding onto him feel all the more pleasurable. I throw my head back and let out unapologetic whines, feeling my orgasm crash over me and soak through my panties onto his clothed lap. My hands finding the back of his neck to pull his lips against mine roughly, silencing my moans by shoving them down his throat while i ride out my high. Chris moans himself, being so turned on by the entire experience as he shoves his tongue into my mouth, letting it roam every inch and suck harshly onto my tongue to swallow every noise i make. His hips are still rutting against mine desperately, his grunts echoing through my brain as our lips touch and we breathe in each others face. So caught up in the pleasure and drowning in each others satisfying expressions.

I pull back, running my hands down his chest again and leaning to palm my hand over his clothed crotch, pouting at how hard he is while he continues to try and rub me against him further.

Before i could dip my hand into his pants, his hands are under my ass, lifting me swiftly as he stands to his feet. My legs wrap around his waist instinctively, holding onto him tighter at his sudden movements. He moved toward his bed, laying me down against it and kissing me roughly while he continues grinding himself against me from the edge of his bed, taking advantage of my legs being spread out around his body. His hands are hungrily roaming my entire body, gripping at the flesh and moving down to bite at my skin as lust takes over his senses.

“You’ve got my attention now, i’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll wish we never started.”

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets smut #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets x reader #chris sturniolo x reader

[seikkoi]

𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐄 | dom!wanda maximoff x f!reader

18+ minors dni | dark-ish content warning

content/warnings: explicit sexual content, female domination themes, spanking, overstimulation, choking if you squint,

genre: pure smut, minimal braincells

word count: 1,554

Your typically patient wife has had enough of your attitude.

Your eyes squeezed shut, body tensing as Wanda’s palm meets your  skin again. You’re draped over her lap, nails digging into the soft suit pants at her thighs when another strike meets your ass. With every delicious sting, her other hand alternates between stroking your clothed back or fondling your hair. You writhe at the pain, legs restricted by your pants pulled down to your ankles. Normally, Wanda had the patience to undress you fully before punishing you. Normally, she would have stopped five minutes ago. But then again, you normally acted like less of a brat.

ᗢ

It was late when Wanda returned home, much later than usual. The busyness of the day affairs kept her from giving you a heads-up. You had a good two hours to build up your attitude about her tardiness. The ticking hands of the clock served as taunting background music while you watched dinner grow cold. 

You couldn’t fathom a reason she at least didn’t call to tell you, angrily putting away dinner and showering. The front door knob turned just as you re-entered the living room. Wanda, your ever-beautiful wife, wore tiredness in her face, but still greeted you with a smile. Seeing the dark, curve-hugging suit she wore to work made it difficult to be upset anymore, but not impossible. Before she could explain anything, you were on her case. Endless rhetoric about the importance of punctuality and communication spouted from your mouth. You gave no credence to the perfectly reasonable explanation she gave- only responding with more attitude. 

Wanda merely stood, unable to get much of a word in. You, too deep into your rant, don’t notice when she goes silent, removing her suit jacket and rolling the sleeves of her crisp white button-up. You didn’t notice the sly grin tugging at her mouth, or when she took slow, heavy steps towards you.

“You done, darling?” she cooed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

The house was dim, with enough light for you to see the familiar glint in her green eyes. There was a firmness to her touch, fingertips dragging against your cheek. Only then did you realize how unfair you were being, and how much you just fucked up. 

“I just-You didn’t call, you always call.” Your body relaxed at her touch, anticipation swirling in your stomach. You'd been with Wanda long enough to know what your behavior would earn you.

“And I apologized for that, my love.” Her palm wraps around your hair, tugging your head back to look at her. “But you were too busy mouthing off to hear it.”

ᗢ

That’s how you earned your current position, a whimpering, soaked, half-dressed mess in Wanda’s lap. You had eagerly submitted to this punishment, albeit still stubbornly. You hadn’t held back a snippy remark when Wanda sat and gestured to her lap, which was probably why your punishment was much, much longer than usual. 

You are lucky though, because the sight of you like this, suddenly very apologetic and needy, starts to drive Wanda insane, filling her head with more ideas.

“On the bed.” It’s a short and breathy command that you follow all too quickly, pulling your pants off completely before lying on the cool sheets. Wanda kneels next to you, staring down at your flushed body like a meal waiting to be devoured.

A moment passes as you shift your weight off your tender skin and meet Wanda’s eyes, praying that she’d forgiven your earlier behavior. 

Almost like she’s read your mind, Wanda’s crooked smile returns as her hand dances behind your underwear. 

“You can be such a good girl, but only when you want to be, hm?” Her other hand strokes your thigh, fingers sliding along your folds in the same slow place as her taunt.

Your body was far too worked up and sensitive for her teasing, groaning from the lack of attention she knew you needed. You tried to move your sore hips, anything to increase her speed, but a firm push on your thigh stopped that. 

“You’re being a little harsh here,” you whined, still trying to gain even an inch of friction.

“You think you deserve any better right now?” Wanda prevented you from responding with more protest by quickly inserting the teasing digit into you, making you arch against the mattress.

Her goal now seemed to be just shutting you up, adding a second digit and relentlessly fucking you.  It borders on being too much too quickly. You can feel the warmth spreading across your skin as Wanda presses a thumb to your clit. You were now an even bigger mess than before, moaning and jerking against her. Wanda still kept you in place, replacing the hand at your thigh with her knee on your hip. With the way your body still reacts, trying to move against her, you’re certain you'll have a fresh set of bruises there now.

Wanda soaks in every twitch however, drunk on your moans. When your mouth hangs in an open gasp, eyes fluttering, she gives you no reprise, curving the slender digits inside you.

“Shit, Wanda, that’s too much-”, your own sounds of pleasure cut you off, feeling your peak rip through you with little warning. The dampness of the sheets reaches your thighs as you swear and cry out Wanda’s name.

You learned that you were still paying for your outburst, with Wanda’s pace going unchanged. The pleasure transitioned from bliss to overwhelming as she fucked you through your orgasm and long after. The knee holding you down could barely be felt, mind too absorbed in the feeling between your legs. 

You feel like a puddle of water beneath her. Your excitement coated her fingers, making every thrust into you glide with ease. You can hardly process the digits against your walls, crying out each time she reaches your hilt or adds more pressure to your clit. When you feel your second orgasm building, the overstimulating pleasure pricks fresh tears from your tightly shut eyes. 

“W-wanda, please, I can’t.” you cry, gripping aimlessly at the damp sheets beneath you. 

You try a bit harder to sit up, moving your hips away from hold. Wanda isn’t having it, though- her free hand makes its way to your throat, pushing you back down. The smile on her face is infectious, gleaming at your pleas. 

“So polite all of a sudden, tsk,” Wanda scoffs, stretching you further with a third finger. You groan at the sensation, eyes rolling when she finds her pace again.

“I’ll make sure you don’t forget your manners next time, draga.”

#marvel fanfiction #mcu smut #mcu fanfic #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #scarlet witch x reader #avengers fanfiction #seikkoiwrites

[lyxandria]

daddy - diluc x f!reader

word count: 1748 cw: nsfw- mdni; smut; piv; multiple orgasms; missionary; mating press; overstimulation; size kink; begging; breeding kink; creampie; no protection used/condom fell off; talk of pregnancy; daddy kink; praise kink (reader referred to as "good girl"); female-bodied reader.

you couldn't believe this was really happening. a casual night of hanging out, sharing take-out and watching a movie with your longtime friend – your very cute friend whom you had just a mild crush on – turned into him confessing his attraction to you after an accidental kiss. 

one kiss led to another that led to more that led to you falling onto his bed.

naked.

your body was on fire as he disrobed in front of you. his cock sprang to attention; already hard, his length nearly reached his belly button.

unable to take your eyes off him – or rather, his thick, throbbing cock – your core flooded with heat, arousal quickly dampening your panties as you imagined his cock pounding your pussy.

“there's no going back if we do this," he said, giving you one last, final out as his bare body hovered over yours, the tip of his cock pressing against your thigh.

“we can still be friends,” you said, foolishly hopeful, not wanting to lose one of your closest friends. perhaps even best friend.  

“friends who screw each other?” he asked, smirking when you nodded in agreement.

neither of you were looking for anything serious – life was busy with new jobs and life just starting out, and neither of you had the time or energy to properly cultivate a healthy, long-term relationship. but sometimes, you had an itch that needed to be scratched, one that you needed help reaching. 

and diluc wanted to be the one to scratch that itch for you.

“yes,” you moaned loudly as he sunk his thick cock slowly inside you, changing the nature of your friendship forever.

****

this arrangement went on for some time. you had your regular dates as well as those times when one was feeling particularly needy.

tonight was one of those needy nights.

“i need to see you.” desperation was thick in diluc’s voice as he practically begged you to come by and relieve him.

you quickly changed into a dress – something simple and cute with easy access – and made your way to his place.

he was on you as soon as you walked through the door, like a tiger pouncing on a rabbit, pushing you roughly against the wall. his lips immediately on yours, his tongue invaded your warm mouth, a tease of things to come.

“i missed you,” he whispered between sloppy kisses, his cock so hard you could feel the bulge through his pants.

“i need you," he pleaded, his voice ragged, reeking of desperation. diluc pressed his body against yours, his tall frame towering over yours, rubbing his hips against yours.

“my hand just doesn't feel as good as your pussy.”

heat rose to your cheeks, arousal dripping down your leg at the thought of him pleasuring himself while thinking of you. you needed him, too. desperately.

he guided you to the large bed – one that had been witness to numerous lovemaking sessions – disrobing each other on the way there. he pushed you down on the bed; falling on your back, he climbed onto the bed after you. he sat on his knees before your naked body and took a minute to enjoy the view of your beautiful bare body spread out before him. his eyes lingered on your curves as his gaze roved over your body – a feast for a starving man. he placed both his large hands on your thighs and easily spread your legs, your pussy now on display for his eyes only.

he reached over to the nightstand and grabbed a condom. dipping his fingers along your entrance, he collected some of your slick and coated his length in it before sliding on the condom. only then did he climb on top of you and rub the tip of his thick hard cock along your soaked slit.

he gazed into your eyes as he began to sink inside you, inch by painfully slow inch. diluc, the sweetheart that he was, never wanted to hurt you and made sure to ease his thick cock into you.

despite how many times diluc had fucked you, you always felt a bit of a thrill when you saw his big, beautiful cock sliding into your pussy. no matter how many times he had fucked you, you were still as tight as the first time. 

his cock was long and thick and magnificent; it was the kind of cock that could split your body in half if he wanted to and destroy you so badly that you were left begging for more.

“so tight,” he groaned as he took his time stretching your walls, giving you time to adjust to his massive size. you dragged your hands down his back, fingers digging into the soft supple skin on his ass, pulling him closer to you, deeper inside you. your moans mingled, your bodies becoming one as he bottomed out, the feeling of fullness always overwhelming at first.

“good girl,” he praised, his balls slapping your ass, the sounds a lewd call to how deep his cock was inside you.  you glanced down to where your bodies were joined; a sense of pride filled your heart knowing you fit his entire thick length inside your pussy. 

“i needed this,” he whispered, burying his head on your shoulders waiting for you to acclimate to his large size. untying his ponytail, his hair tumbled down his shoulders, allowing you to weave your fingers through the long, red strands.

you needed this, too. without waiting, you lifted your hips, your walls squeezing his length, silently inviting him to fuck you. 

he groaned, his teeth grazing your neck before biting down on your delicate skin. “i can't promise I'll be gentle tonight,” he warned, his biting kiss stinging with pain as his teeth sunk into your skin. 

diluc was usually a gentle lover, preferring soft sex over rough. but every so often, he needed to fuck you hard and rail you. he would always warn you when he was in one of those moods, and you were always more than happy to spread your legs wider for him on those occasions.

if anything, you had slowly begun to become addicted to being fucked hard and rough, but you were always too shy to say anything. naturally, when he said this to you tonight, your body buzzed with excitement. 

you kissed him while your pussy clamped down on his hard cock, squeezing his shaft. he broke the kiss, caging you between his arms as he pulled his cock out, leaving just the tip inside, and snapped his hips against yours, drilling his cock deep inside. 

he grunted loudly as he roughly slammed his cock inside, treating your pussy like his own personal fleshlight. your body was a raging fire, the waves of pleasure ready to crash at any moment.

“fuck,” he muttered, stilling his thrusts, the peak of your pleasure slipping from your reach.

“why'd you stop?” you whimpered, digging your fingers in his back, trying to keep his cock inside you.

he looked down at your leg; your eyes followed his, spotting the problem stuck to your thigh.

the condom fell off…

when he began to pull out, you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, his cock slowly sinking back inside. “don't you dare pull out.” your pussy squeezed his shaft, not letting go.

“what if i–”

you knew what he was going to say – what if i impregnate you. with the amount of sex you've had recently, the thought had crossed your mind a time or two – no form of protection was 100%. but, if you were completely honest with yourself, whenever the possibility crossed your mind, the idea of diluc filled you so much, your belly swelled with his child…

it brought a smile to your face.

you bit your lip, nervous to speak these feelings aloud. “it's okay… i want to feel you when you –”

he covered your mouth with his just as he drilled his cock into you, the pain delicious as he fucked you so hard you thought your body would break in half.

his thrusts were erratic and wild, like an animal in heat.  it felt amazing to be fucked raw, no condom to dull the sensations. it was a feeling you knew you'd quickly become addicted to, maybe even already addicted.

“daddy loves you," he moaned, his pace increasing as he railed you, his fingers digging into your hips hard enough to leave bruises.

you were close to losing it when you heard him call himself daddy. was this a new kink you didn't even know you had? was he even aware of what he was saying? it didn't really matter one way or another as your core flooded, creaming on his cock, your orgasm blowing your mind, leaving you trembling with aftershocks.

“tell me you want this," he groaned as he lifted your legs, guiding your ankles over his shoulders. the new position allowed him to penetrate you deeper, his thrusts overstimulating, hitting harder as he broke your limp body in half.

“i, ahh…want this,” you managed to get out, your voice a pathetic, breathless whimper, your body engulfed in the waves of pleasure. your breasts bounced vigorously with each thrust; if his goal was to destroy you, he was succeeding.

“you like this, don't you?” he watched, pleased, as you came undone once more, your hands tugging on his hair as rapture rolled through your body, your mind blank and cock-drunk unable to express a single thought.

“daddy's gonna fuck a baby inside ya,” he grunted, shoving his cock in so deep, kissing your cervix, his seed spilling inside your womb painting your walls white.

“such a good girl. take every last drop from daddy,” he coaxed gently as he stayed inside you, allowing you to squeeze his cock, milking his balls of everything he had. your body quivered; hearing him call himself that again sent you spiraling over the edge once more. you still didn't know what it was – just a kink or a real desire to be bred – but whichever it was, you were already addicted.

he kept his cock in you, plugging your pussy, helping ensure not a single drop was wasted. your body writhed under his, the overstimulation unreal. his cock began to spasm, a sign he was getting hard again. you bucked your hips up, eager for daddy to fuck you again and fill you with his seed, only this time harder and faster.

#genshin impact #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #genshin x f!reader #genshin x reader smut #genshin x f!reader smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x f!reader #genshin impact x reader smut #genshin impact x f!reader smut #diluc ragnvindr #genshin diluc #diluc x reader #diluc x f!reader #diluc x reader smut #diluc x f!reader smut #diluc smut

[inkyray]

INKED

MATT STURNIOLO

a/n: this is my first oneshot and i deadass have no idea what im doing, go easy on me. im so used to writing full stories i kind of struggle with stand alone oneshots but yeah, i appreciate constructive criticism

3.6k words

warnings/content ahead: the bitch is getting tattooed yall, smut, p in v, brief fingering, degrading, hair pulling, the plot that leads up to the smut is longer than the smut itself ☠️

๑

You felt the prickly needle press ink in and out of your flesh, it spared small stings that you didn't exactly hate. Nick sat on his living room couch not far away from you, but still far enough to raise his voice a little so you could properly hear him. He had a good bond with the tattoo artist, and she didn't mind coming to his house to ink him up.

Nick sat with his short sleeve rolled above his shoulder, revealing a tattoo he had just got done with. His shoulder is sore and red, covered in a layer of antibiotic ointment and plastic wrap. Earlier today he had invited you over, since he knew how long you've been wanting a tattoo, and you had decided you know what, fuck it. You tagged along. You and Nick are close, he's one of your only best friends in LA, since it isn't really where you're originally from. You two would hang out any chance the other was free.

It often got annoying for his other brothers how much you were around, but they had caught a quick loving for you and found the place empty and weird when you weren't there, considering how much you were with Nick.

The buzzing of the tattoo machine filled the silent void before it was interrupted by a TikTok Nick was watching on full volume, making you two laugh as the tattoo artist held down on your waist to keep you from messing her up. You were getting a tramp stamp tattoo on your lower back, your sweatpants folded right on where your underwear begins.

A few minutes pass of just buzzing, your stinging skin, loud TikToks, and the smell of antiseptic.

"We should make a TikTok." Nick announced after a while. You raise an eyebrow, "Now?" you wondered. Nick nods, taking the throw blanket from off of him and getting up. "I don't know Nick, kind of in the middle of getting a tattoo." You smiled up at him as he got closer. You were laying on your stomach, your body against the black leather chair wrapped in plastic, but your elbows kept the rest of your body that weren't your ribs, up, so you could use your phone.

"Oh please, you look hot as hell right now." He stood, chuckling. You rolled your eyes. "Nick. I'm in sweatpants and a tank." Nick looked at you from his phone, tapping a few things on there which you assumed had to do with TikTok. He quite literally sighed. "You are so unaware of yourself, girl."

You shrugged and blew him a kiss. "So TikTok or nah? I want to do, like a transition of our tattoos and us lip syncing to some shit song from the 2010's. I already made a draft of myself doing it before I got this bad boy." He points to his new splotchy tattoo of the bat on his shoulder. "Yeah, guess so. You're gonna have to film me in the midst of getting my tattoo, though. I didn't exactly record myself before this."

With the press of a time skip button, you guys filmed the TikTok, posted it, and Nick declared he was tired, going for a nap to his room. This wasn't out of the ordinary for him to be asleep with you here, you'd do it all the time when he was at your place, and either one of you guys eventually followed in the others footsteps, finishing whatever you were doing and going to lay beside them to sleep too.

The front door of the house opened, and you already knew it was Matt and Chris. They were running errands for their manager and Nick had decided to stay behind with you, since you were planning on getting tattoos together. Footsteps creep into the place and you wait for their reaction. They didn't exactly know you were also getting one, and they knew about your commitment issues with tattoos, so this was kind of a big deal.

Chris walks in first and doesn't even turn to look at you, assuming you were Nick getting tattooed. "You're still getting inked? How big is your bat supposed to be, Nick." He grabs a Pepsi from the fridge and pops it open. "Pretty big." You answered, your head resting on your palm as he turned to look at you, Matt following closely behind.

"Oh, shit."  Chris gulps down the Pepsi, walking over to you as he inspects the tattoo on your lower back. "How does it look?" You question as you see Matt stop in his tracks and come closer to get a better look at it. "Fucking sexy. Good job." He holds out his fist and you bump it, smiling at the comment.

You feel Matt's gaze linger too long on your skin as Chris goes back into the kitchen, making another comment about the tattoo you didn't quite catch. The stinging on your back now feels ice cold. "What do you think, Matt?" You wonder, turning your head slightly to look at him.

"Bold. For someone like you." He mutters, walking over to the kitchen to grab a root beer, maneuvering around Chris since he's constantly in his way. You scoff. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Is Nick sleeping?" Chris asks, you nod, he quickly goes looking for him.

"What I mean is that it's a tattoo decision I would've never thought you'd pick." Matt says, looking at you from the kitchen as he sips from his drink. This could mean so many things and you found yourself getting confused. What? "Matt, I'm gonna need you to elaborate."

It wasn't a secret that you were the least closest with Matt. Everytime you'd try to do the things you'd do with Nick but with him, there'd be some sort of thick invisible fog in the air, making you hyper-aware of everything you're doing and saying. Your chest always felt too heavy around Matt and the tension it weighed on you was too much. It wasn't normal, and you were sure Matt could feel it too. You knew a lot of stuff about him, and he knew a lot about you, but there was something between you two keeping you from taking the extra step of declaring you guys close.

He lets his eye's dart everywhere in thought, putting together how he's going to explain it to you. "Mmmm," he mumbles, "...no." He decides as he begins to leave the room, stopping in his tracks before he fully leaves, peeking his head around the corner. "You look good though, what Chris said." And he leaves.

You are beyond confused, you turn your head toward the tattoo artist, who was sharing the same look on her face. She spared you a shrug.

-

It's been a few weeks and your tattoo is fully healed, you loved the way you felt with it. The urge to get a million more tattoos on you was strong, but you held back.

On the other hand, being around Matt had begun getting more unbearable by the day. When you two were left alone, there was nothing to talk about. You would shift uncomfortably and he would bring out his phone as a distraction, doing nothing significant on it other than switch between apps. You were too aware of the other and the air around you would increasingly thicken. You were sure if you tried, you could slice through it with a knife.

Right now, was one of those times. Matt in the driver's seat and you were in the middle back seat, Chris and Nick had gone inside a store to grab a few stuff.

You watched his fingers tap the steering wheel, his thumb patiently rubbing against it, studying the fact they were slender and long, trained by veins that went down his hands. They looked so perfect under the gleaming hour of the sun. His nails weren't painted, so his short nails naturally colored themselves pink with a small white hill on his thumb. You let your imagination run free. Touching the dip of your waist or massaging the inside of your thigh. His fingers curving themselves inside you…

His eyes darted at the rear mirror, catching you focused on his hands. It took you a second too long to realize that. You looked up at the mirror and found his blue eyes fixated on you, dark hair sitting across his forehead and strands messily on his eyes. Your heart gave you a loud thump and a punch in the face of flushing blood. You didn't look away from his eyes, but you could still see his thumb grazing against the steering wheel.

Your brain was empty of words. You had no idea what to say and you were sure neither did he, until he began to speak. "What ever happened to that tattoo?" He asked, still looking at you from the mirror. You furrowed your eyebrows. It takes you a second until you realize he was talking about the tramp stamp you have. "It ran away." You answered blankly, because what kind of question was that supposed to be.

Matt sighed, looking out of the window, you watched him look outside as you calculated the messy hair that didn't seem too bad to pull on. "I mean, it never made an appearance again. No one ever saw it ever since you got it." He said. A small smile forms onto your mouth. "Some people have seen it." You mutter lightly, not bothering to look away from him as he goes back looking at you.

"Is that so?" He wasn't smiling, his face was processing a look of annoyance. You wink.

The car doors are pulled open and in one sudden movement, Chris comes in with a laugh and sits next to you, Nick follows closely behind, chuckling in that deep-voiced way he does after he made a joke he was proud of, and seating himself in the passenger seat. "Why are you sitting here?" Matt questions, not bothering to ask what they're laughing at. Chris takes out a Mento and offers you one, you reluctantly take it and let it sit in your mouth, wanting to suck the flavor out before you chew it.

Nick laughs even harder. "Oh, I didn't even realize I was sitting here. Chris, and you just let me?" Chris cackles, "It doesn't matter Nick, it's just the passenger seat." He puts an arm around you. "Plus I wanted to sit with her." He tells you specifically, looking at you as he begins to chew the Mento. "How I am honored." You sarcastically put a hand to your heart, not once taking your eyes off Matt. He was expressionless and began driving.

The conversation held on and turned into a different topic, you would make sly remarks here and there but for you, the entire ride home was hard. Matt would catch you staring at him, and when he had to turn the car back with his hand behind Nick's headrest, he would look at you longer than the road behind him. He didn't look really… pleased. Which had you amused.

He was upset that he wasn't one of the people who got to see your tattoo finished and healed, and you were catching onto that. The longer they'd drive, the more stern his expression would shift. He got progressively more and more irritated throughout the ride.

They make it home and Matt doesn't even give you a glance, he immediately heads to his bedroom and makes it known by his silence he'd like to be left alone. Okay, drama queen. You thought.

You had to go see what was up, it was just in you. After the conversation you two barely had and the eye content you held, which you were pretty sure was a hallucination you pulled out of your ass, you were curious to see just how riled up he was. Or you could get him.

Chris and Nick get a call from their manager saying she's outside, picking them up so she could explain to Nick something that had to do with their merch. Apparently she already spoke about it to Matt, so it'd just be Chris and Nick going to their studio warehouse to see, since that's where all their merch first goes.When they leave, your thought process changes in a matter of seconds. Seeing how upset he is, you want to see how hard you could push his buttons.

You approach his room and knock 3 times. No answer is received, you raise your fist to knock a second time, and by the first knock the door is pulled half open, revealing Matt looking down at you, expecting you. "What?" He asks, his eyelids drooping as he looks at you blankly. He changed into gray sweatpants and a black T-shirt.

"Can I come lay down next to you? I barely got any sleep last night." You lightly fluttered your lashes at him, holding your phone with both your hands. Matt stares at you, inspecting just how tired you looked. You looked fine, but he still opened the door wide enough for you to enter, not saying anything.

You lay on his silk bed sheets. Silk. What a slut. He sits in front of his computer, and boots open a game, not bothering to acknowledge you here. You don't like that. After leaving yourself alone with your thoughts for a while today, the least thing you wanted was to be ignored. Especially by him. Even if it meant annoying him, you just wanted to have some sort of contact with him. Either verbally or physically, you don't mind a single bit.

You clear your throat. "Thanks, Matty." He grimaces at the nickname, used to hearing his family say to him, but not from you. "My legs have been hurting all day." You say, cuddling into his pillows, stretching hard enough to arch your back. A real yawn escapes your lips.

"You don't work out, don't play that dumb shit with me." He says, turning his head to look at you for a moment, before turning back to look at his monitor. "Who said anything about working out?" You tell him. He stops, completely forgetting what he was supposed to be looking at.

"I don't know, I guess my tattoo really does magical wonders for me." A smile slips through your lips as you turn the other direction, your back facing him as your shirt exposes the tattoo, your pants hanging dangerously low on your hips.

You can't see him, but you hear him turn, and you feel yourself getting excited. "Why'd you get it?" He asks and you turn your head softly to look at him. His question was simple, but the expression on his face certainly wasn't. "Why does anybody really get a tramp stamp, Matty?" You respond to his question with another one, and he is giving you a look of impatience.

"Just fucking answer me right now, sweetheart." His voice isn't loud, but his anger is. He practically huffs and you feel yourself getting immensely more attracted to his aggressiveness. You turn your head back to the other side, leaving him unanswered as he burns holes in the back of hair, knowing that would tick him off.

You hear shuffling and then the bed dips, and your heart literally does skip a beat. You swallow your built up spit down your throat as Matt grasps your jaw and makes you look at him, your eyes meeting his blue ones immediately. "Don't look away from me, y/n. Why'd you get that fucking tattoo?" He held your jaw firmly. He was on the bed rooted on his knees, looking down at you as you laid on his pillows.

Your smile somehow got wider, flashing him your white teeth as you slowly parted them to answer. "So you could fuck me." Your eyes were staring intensely at him but in a lazy manner.

Matt's eyes narrowed, darting between your eyes and your mouth. "You fucking whore." He muttered, his lips pressing onto yours so much faster than you could say the word 'whore' itself. Your eyes screwed itself shut and took the opportunity as fast as you could, kissing him back harsher.

He let go of the kiss too quickly, which only frustrated you. "You got that tattooed for me, baby?" He wonders, his voice is hoarse and breathy. You nod so fast your hold almost fell off, and as embarrassing as it was, it was true.

You had only 1 body since before the tattoo, and you barely even counted it. Constantly being around Matt but not knowing how to go about it made you more desperate. He did something to you no one had ever done. Sometimes you would feel yourself pulsing for him, imagining your fingers as his.

The reason why you had even begun considering a tramp stamp is because of the sick fantasies that they held, using Matt as its lead.

Recently you got laid, and it was underwhelming and disappointing. Your legs actually hurted because you did a few squats the day prior, not because the sex was good.

"You fucking liar." He was smiling but nothing in his tone was friendly, his eyebrows were furrowed but his grin was undeniable. You licked his mouth and he pressed against your lips. "I wouldn't lie to you, Matty." You moan into the kiss, feeling his hand trail down your body and to your waist. A hand was on the dip of your waist and the other was holding your jaw secure.

Your heart was quite literally out of its body now, his soft hand trailing to feel your bare skin under your shirt, grazing just the hill of your bare chest, purposely not touching your nipples. In a sudden movement, he cups your breast and your whimper is muffled under the kiss.

He has his knees caging both sides of your thigh, pressing his knee into you. He smirks as you gasp.  "Lift your hips for me?" He pulls away, a small string of saliva connecting you two. You look straight at his eyes as you lift them, making sure he holds eye contact. And he does. He does as he curls his fingers along the strap of your pants and shoves them off.

"Let me see it." He orders. You grin, raising an eyebrow. "That could go for a lot of stuff." He grabs the side of your underwear and lets go of it, having it snap against your skin. "The tattoo. I want to see it." His voice is more demanding, more gruffly. Your pussy was soaked.

"No." You tell him all with a sly smile, you liked him aggressive and didn't mind seeing how far he'd go. In a sudden movement, you are flipped to your stomach, your hair is being gripped by his hand, pulling your head up as you feel his fingers tracing your tattoo. His fingers were too light. Too soft on your skin, you felt your back arch as he decided to balance the softness with a harsh slap on your ass.

Some hair was loose, out of his grip, resting on your back. The rest are being pulled closer to him, you feel his hot breath whisper in your ear. "You slut." A smirk spreads on your face, biting your bottom lip close enough to leave it bleeding. "You talk a lot." You tell him. He forces your shirt from off of you, leaving you just in your black lace panties.

You're still on your stomach, your bare chest pressing against his silk sheets. Your underwear is slipped off of you. Two fingers found their way to your pussy, sensitivity rubbing against it, your back arching your ass into his hard dick. "Fuck me already, Matt." You moan, knowing he's only touching you to get you overstimulated. He ignores what you're saying, responding to what's going on in his mind. "You look so beautiful. Bending yourself for me on my bed, begging for my cock."

His fingers rub against your folds, flipping your stomach inside out, pressing against your clit and your moan comes out louder than intended. "So wet for me." He licks his lips. Just as you were about to push yourself against his fingers, he let go abruptly. A huff leaves your lips and you whine. "Sorry, baby, you need something?" He mocks. You give him a noise of annoyance in response.

He grabs your ass hard, and to your surprise, you feel his tip at your entrance. You immediately clench around it and you hear him moan. He shoves himself inside of you and you practically scream, your whimpering gets louder each thrust he makes in and out of you. "You feel that, slut? Is this what you wanted?" He groans, not bothering to stop. You answer by pushing yourself onto him, fucking yourself to him.

You pushed your lips into your mouth, loving the sound of his moans and whimpers. Your head was pressed against his pillow, and he went faster, tears started prickling your eyes, shutting them. Your noises were getting more intense and a knot began forming in your stomach.

"I'm.. oh fuck–" Before you could even finish what you were saying, you release. Matt slows down, every push in is longer and slippery with your liquid, your pussy tightens around him and he mutters a quick "fuck" and pulls out, cumming all over you.

You turn to look at him. He looked back at you. There were many times you thought you were the most beautiful girl in the world, but now, seeing your hair a mess and its baby hairs sticking to your forehead, your lips sore and red from his aggressive kisses bare on his bed, he thought he was looking at a goddess. You glare at him, noticing he's been staring at a few seconds too long. "What?"

"I think I might need to see that tattoo one more time."

-

(idk how a tags list works)

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher owen sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #the sturniolos #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #matt x y/n #matt x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #matthew bernard sturniolo #nicolas antonio sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #sturniolo #fanfiction #matt sturniolo fanfic #oneshot #smut #idk

[superblysubpar]

and I love you anon 💛 thank you for this request and thank you Beyoncé for the song Levii's Jeans. I will never be the same again.

warnings: alcohol consumption, drunk/tipsy but all consensual things in this established relationship, SMUT (dry humping, Steve comes on your stomach, slight fingering)

1455 words

“Jesus, Mary, Joe-Joseph!” 

It wasn’t a sexy exclamation that’s for sure. But you were burning, warm from head to toe from the tequila in your system and the way his lips were a ghost against your skin, and it just sort of slipped out. 

He didn’t seem to mind. 

Steve practically giggled against the damp skin of your hip bone, his question huffed against it pulling goosebumps to the surface. 

“Like that, huh?”

“Ye-yeah,” you squirmed beneath him, fingers gripping tousled brown hair probably a little too tightly as you begged, “Again? Please?”

He was laid out between your legs, fully clothed, his arms drooped lazily over your thighs, pink cheeks and glossy lips and dazed eyes, happy to oblige. 

Those ready to please lips brushed across skin, following the band of denim smoothly, his nose pressed to the exposed curve of your stomach as his fingers remembered they could grip at your thighs and hips.  

“Oh,” he hummed, smiling at the way you wiggled when he made it to the other side and let his mouth hover over your skin. “Asked so sweet baby, how could a guy say no?”

The hot and wet glide of his tongue across the bone had your stomach fizzing like you’d just taken another shot, eyelashes fluttering and lungs searching for air. 

He pestered kisses into the wet skin, teeth grazing right behind them so your knees started to rise on either side of him and your fingers yanked his hair the way he particularly liked when he was a smidge gone and then you made that pretty breathy whimper he liked even more. 

Steve let his mouth hover over you, hot puffs of breath filling the tension filled space between the lips that ached to press to the spot that yearned for more of their kisses.

He smiled when your knees pressed together against him, wiggling beneath him and groaning around a laugh. One that showed you were just pretending to be frustrated that he wasn't giving you what you wanted, but actually turned on by the way his hands pushed your waist down like it was nothing, holding you still. 

Steve let his hands roam lower again, fingers tugging and tripping up on the loops before he scratched down denim covered thighs. His nose traced the hem over to the button and tapped it with the tip before he sat up and said,

“Take these off for me, honey.”

Suddenly sober, like he hadn't been giggling, or pink cheeked and grabbing fistfuls of your light wash Levi’s covered ass in public, or pleading with you - lips touched right to your ear and begging for you to let him take you home not even fifteen minutes ago.

It had been a sloppy exit at best, rushed goodbyes and half finished drinks with chewed neon straws and a full beer left at the table of your friends. A pitiful excuse of needing to wake up early tomorrow lost to eye rolls as Steve stuck both of his hands in your back pockets to squeeze as he pushed you towards the door. 

So when you looked up at him all sly, narrowed eyes and pursed lips fighting a wide grin, he swallowed loudly. 

Your fingers traced over your exposed midriff, shirt tossed off well before he even got you to the bed, leaving you in a black lacy bra that left him wondering if the underwear you had on matched. 

Teasing, slow, back and forth movements with your own fingers against the top of your jeans, eyes never leaving his, as you stuck out your lips in a fake pout, batted your eyelashes and asked, “These? Thought you liked my new Levi’s, Steve?”

“I do,” he nodded, fingers curling around your knees and squeezing gently as his tongue darted out and licked over his lips, “I really do. Just like ‘em more if they were on the floor now.”

You sighed, all dramatic and jutted out your lip more as you lied, “I didn’t even really get to show them off though. Only got to dance to one song.”

Elbows pushed you up so you were both sitting up and facing each other, so you could guide one of Steve’s hands from where it still rested on your knee. Till it was running over your thigh, higher and higher till his fingers were bumping the zipper and button, his eyes focused on the shiny gold and nothing else. 

He looked like he was in pain, like the thought of you not wearing them anymore was the worst news he’d ever heard despite being the one to tell you to take them off. 

“Think I should leave them on, Stevie,” you whispered, his fingers twitching under yours, thumb swiping over the button as a little rumble of what sounded like a whimper fell from his lips. 

Steve looked like he wanted to protest, but then you inched closer, your hands leaving his so they could lift off his shirt, causing his hair to turn even more rumpled. 

Maybe it was the tequila and cherries, or how confident the way the jeans made you feel, but you pushed gently at your boyfriend’s shoulders until he was falling back on the bed easily. You yanked at his own jeans, dragging them down his legs clumsily and hurriedly as his chest heaved. 

You climbed over him, denim thighs straddling black Calvin covered ones. Your hands landed on Steve’s chest, fingers scratching through thick hair as your hips tested a slow grind. A roll that caught the tip of his cock on the seam of the zipper and made his hands fly to your waist and his eyelids flutter closed. 

Understanding now why he had been giggling as you wiggled beneath him, why he hovered just over you, not quite giving you what you wanted. The way his fingers gripped your hips, and his tongue licked over his pink and kiss swollen lips, or how the warm eyes taken over by pupils looked up at you through fluttering eyelashes was addicting. 

But then he was shaking his head, sharply, like he was trying to snap out of it, and then he easily overpowered you.

He was gentle about it, but forceful, getting you on your back and fingers curling around the belt loops and yanking you down the bed. 

Steve barely got them down your thighs, before his hips were pushed against yours and his lips were sucking your top one between them. 

He was gasping around the kissing, messy and sloppy but full of adoration, “Fucking love you,” tongue slipping over yours, “So much.”

Your fingers were back in his hair, giggling and rolling your hips against his until the right pressure hit your clit in the perfect spot and you gasped out how much you loved him more. 

Steve hummed when you exhaled, your back arching and mouth gasping his name for him to swallow. 

It was a dirty, filthy, messy grind against each other. Sharp breaths inhaled and exhaled by the other as noses squished together and his tip hit your clit over and over again, in a steady rhythm that had your stomach burning from more than just the tequila. 

His “Fuck, fuck, shit,” a response to your “Yeah, yes, right there, more.”

Hands gripped at each other, frantic, pulling and tugging at skin and hair and bands of underwear, needing more despite being ready to explode.

“Honey, shitshitgonnacum,” Steve grunted into your lips as you nodded. 

His fingers were quick, slipping under the damp black lace and rubbing perfect and precise figure eights over your clit like he could do it in his sleep. 

You gasped out his name again, louder than you typically let yourself get, fingernails digging into his shoulders and making your own set of marks next to all the moles and freckles that dotted the skin there. 

Warmth erupted over you, figuratively and literally, as he released on your stomach and yours raged through your body like a wildfire engulfing an entire forest. It was a quick and powerful orgasm, consuming you, stealing the air from your lungs and turning your vision a little blurry. 

It took a minute for your eyes to finally blink open and find his, easy to do though, with his forehead pressed to yours, the sounds of both of your heavy breaths filling the room. 

It took another minute for you to start giggling at the state you were both in. His hair mussed, both still in your underwear but Steve only half in his and your jeans around your calves. 

“I don’t just like your Levi’s,” he murmured, kissing at your nose as he laughed harder. 

“I love them.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fic #stranger things fanfiction #superbly subpar steve smut

[sorrowsofsilence]

Diagnosis

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Fem!Reader

Words: 4.1k

Warnings: Smut (18+, fingering, female!receiving), PnV pls wrap it b4 u tap it, male!recieving, choking, doctor x patient (uncomfy situation so pls don't read if the idea of a doctor being unethical isn't your vibe- it is also not my vibe but yk, Dr. Davis can do anything to me lol)

Prompt: You had no idea your past highschool school hook-up would be your substitute doctor during your annual check-up; but let's just say you were in desperate need of a physical.

Author note: LOL I AM GOING TO HELLLLL - but also I've seen so many Dr. Davis ideas I had to create one myself; so thank you to especially (@valiantroeagleangel) whose work inspired me. You are wonderful. And shout out to some sexy phrases by @loveisanimaginarydagger3000 - I’m weak

THIS IS A FANFIC USING REAL PEOPLE IN A FICTIONAL SITUATION! I AM NOT IMPLYING THAT THIS PERSON WOULD DO THIS IRL OR ACT LIKE THIS! ITS FICTION!

Tags: @sammyjoeee @cookiesupplier @th4t-em0-k1d  @dsireland86 @whenthesummerdies @spicywhenspeaking @gretaswhore28 @veronicaphoenix @lma1986 @calleyx13 @somewhere-diamond @talialovesmiw @auratheopossumwitch

(I wasn't sure who I should tag, and if you would like to be tagged in one-shots please let me know! If you’d like to me to remove you as well pls also let me know!! I just took some tags that I've had in past one-shots, and those I think would enjoy! <3)

You picked at your fingernails nervously as you sat in the waiting room, your leg bouncing up and down rapidly.

Something about Doctors’ offices always made you nervous, especially when it involved a doctor that wasn’t your own. You were getting a routine check-up and your first pap smear, scheduled with your regular doctor, but she had a last-minute family emergency. This meant you were going to be inspected by someone else, and that thought made you slightly uneasy.

You played with the mask that covered your nose, pinching at the metal band that rested on the bridge before tugging at the string.

The old woman next to you watched your anxious wading with curious eyes, and you simply shifted in your seat, avoiding her gaze.

Your name was finally called and you followed the nurse, allowing her to check your height, and then leading you into a room located at the end of the hall.

She sat you down, your legs crunching beneath the paper as she placed the blood pressure bump along your arm, squeezing until it tightened and let go.

“Your blood pressure seems to be a little high?” She said, eyebrows furrowing.

You rubbed your hands nervously between your thighs, “I’m just a little anxious.”

Her eyes smiled, indicating a soft grin beneath the mask she wore, “You’ll be just fine. Dr. Davis is a fantastic doctor.”

His name rang off her tongue, piquing your interest. Davis. You knew someone with that last name in high school.

“You can take your mask off in here by the way. Just set it on the side.” She nodded before leaving and you sat there for a few more moments, nervously shifting in your seat.

After a few minutes, you heard a soft knock on the door and you sat up straight, anticipating the man who would be taking care of you today.

The door opened and a man with soft chestnut hair that fell slightly in front of his face walked in, thin-framed glasses sat promptly on top of his nose, covered by a black mask. He hadn’t looked up from the clipboard that was in his hands as he kicked the door closed with his foot gently, tattooed fingers holding up the top page as his eyes skimmed rapidly over the words.

“How’s it going? I’m Dr. Davis.” His voice fell from his lips in a firm but gentle tone and your eyes widened in surprise as you remembered the faint lisp at the end of his ‘s’, and the twang in his accent.

“Hi,” you whispered as you absorbed his image, eyes skimming over his white coat that draped down his long body. The light-blue button-up sat tightly against his neck. You swallowed gently at the ink that crawled just above the collar, sinched between a black tie traced with binary code as the pattern.

“Y/N Y/L/N?” He asked with a curious tone, gaze immediately leaving the page as his orbs met your own, and your heart raced as his ochre eyes bore into yours.

His professionalism dropped slightly as his eyes skimmed over your face in recognition, and your lips parted slightly. He stood still, frozen in remembrance before he coughed, setting the clipboard on the counter and taking a seat next to his computer.

Noah Sebastian Davis is your doctor.

He immediately avoided your gaze as your face began to warm, and you crossed your legs, feeling vulnerable under his authority as he sat there, distracting himself with his computer.

Your high school hookup is your doctor.

“Well,” He began typing, a soft waver barely evident in his voice, “It’s been a long time.”

“Thirteen years,” You licked your lips quickly, smiling shyly as you stared at your legs, glancing up every so often to steal a look at your doctor. You felt even more nervous than before as the man who sat in front of you eventually turned, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he watched you intensely.

“Look, let’s just keep this professional. If you’re more comfortable with someone else I can get another doctor in here.” He said monotonously, leaning over his lap as his elbows rested on his knees.

You mustered a small smile as your chest hammered, eyes grazing across the tattoos embedded into his fingers Memories of the way they used to dance along your skin left your stomach swirling.

“It’s alright, I don’t mind…” Your thoughts trailed off as you looked at the ground, “if you don’t mind?”

Dr. Davis maintained strict eye contact, his voice proper and fixed, “It’s my job to remain professional and competent. I strive for nothing but efficiency, and I’ll have you in and out Mrs. Y/L/N.”

“Miss,” You corrected quietly, picking at your nails again.

Something flashed across his eyes at the realization, and your ears flushed as you adjusted yourself on the examination table.

He turned on the chair again, fingers tapping on the keyboard.

“Let’s go through some medical history to clarify things under your files. It seems you usually have Dr. Thomas, am I correct?”

You hummed in confirmation, nodding along.

“Any health concerns to bring up in your visit today?”

You shook your head, “Just a routine check-up and a pap smear.”

Dr. Davis nodded along, shifting in his seat at the mention of a pap, his hand reaching to pull against his collar as if loosening the tension that was building within the room.

“Any issues regarding mental health?”

You shook your head.

“Eating and drinking well?”

You nodded.

“Any allergies?”

You shook your head.

“Sexually active?”

You noticed his voice hither slightly, as he glanced over at you briefly, before fixating his eyes on the computer again.

“Not like, regularly.”

He shifted in his seat, nodding.

“Multiple partners?”

“Uhm,” you began to stutter nervously at his questions, “A few. Not frequently changing.”

It was a routine check-up, you reminded yourself. Doctors asked these questions.

You shrugged, eyes skimming up towards him again as his eyes bore into you once again, your abdomen clenching as his gaze darkened.

“How many since me?”

You coughed, caught off guard as you stared at him in disbelief, “P-pardon?”

He didn’t repeat the question, but instead continued typing, clicking away at your file.

“Three,” You then said, watching him carefully and he hummed in response.

“Anything else you think I should know?” He asked, returning to his cool, professional composure.

You shook your head again, watching as his chest heaved slowly as he stood up. He grabbed the stethoscope that hung around his neck, and you watched as he placed the ends in his ears before standing in front of you, maintaining a distance.

“Let me check your lungs… can you take your jacket off?” He asked, watching you carefully as you peeled off the layer, placing it to the side.

Dr. Davis then sat next to you on the examination table and your heart began to pick up pace at the proximity of his body, his cologne melting into your senses.

His shoulder brushed against yours as he leaned behind you to place the end of the stethoscope on top of your back.

He asked you to take in a deep breath, and you inhaled swiftly, attempting to exhale in a slow, controlled pattern; but the breath that left your lungs was shaky and uneven.

“Sorry,” you whispered, and he ran the stethoscope across your back again, this time placing it underneath your shirt, the cold metal causing a shiver to run down your body.

“Three more,” He asked gently and you obliged, each breath faltering again as your heart raced.

There was no doubt he could hear the thump of your heart pick up as his warm fingers gently skimmed your skin as he controlled the stethoscope; knowing how nervous his proximity made you.

He pulled away, staring at your flushed face before leaning behind you to grab an ear otoscope.

“Just going to check your ears,” he said as his warm hands pulled along your ear, his warm breath creating goosebumps along the skin in your neck as the hairs stood up.

Your stomach butterflied as he then grabbed a wooden popsicle stick, standing in front of you now, placed between your legs.

“open,” he commanded and you obliged, sticking out your tongue and making an ‘ah’ sound.

Dr. Davis held underneath your chin to look up at him as he placed the wood on top of your tongue, pressing down slightly. Your abdomen clenched as a rush of emotions ran through your body, making eye contact with the tattooed doctor as he stared back, not even looking at the back of your throat as your mouth was agape, open widely for him.

You wanted nothing more than to reach up and pull against the fabric of his mask, greedily wanting to expose his lips to see the rest of his face and smile, to see how handsome he had gotten with age.

Your chest heaved as his fingers slid from underneath your chin, trailing down your throat with firm but gentle fingertips, the tension between you building as seconds passed by. He pulled back his hand, along with the popsicle stick, and your mouth closed slowly as he took a step back.

As he turned from you, the way he slid his hand into his pocket to readjust himself didn’t go unnoticed, before he faced you again, nodding curtly.

“I’ll let you get undressed from the waist down. You can place this blanket over yourself, I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He averted his gaze as he opened the door, closing it gently behind him.

You let out a breath as your mind began to race. The way your mind kept tracing back to years of messing around with him in high school sent your stomach into a lustful spiral, the warmth of his inked fingers relighting years of memories he engraved into your skin.

Noah had given you years of orgasms, some of the best you ever had. None of your other lovers had compared to him, and your body knew this, sparking complete excitement at his presence once again.

You shifted on your feet embarrassed at this, peeling off your jeans as you folded them neatly on the chair. You slid off your black panties, placing them on top of your pants before lying down on the bed, the cool air causing you to shiver.

Or perhaps, it was the fact Noah was going to be extremely close to your intimate space after so many years of deprivation.

You two hooked up on and off for years during adolescence, never forming a relationship beyond that; even though you always wanted to.

You always had feelings for Noah, but you knew he wanted nothing more than to fuck you senselessly, and then part ways. No strings attached.

After high school graduation, you two parted, never speaking to each other again. You had always wondered what he had gone off and set to do, and being a doctor was honestly the last thing you’d think he’d do. Noah had always been extremely smart, but it still came as a complete shock when he was the one who walked through that wooden door just fifteen minutes prior.

You covered yourself with the thin blanket and a moment later Dr. Davis came through the door again, glancing at your exposed legs before turning to grab a pair of gloves from the counter.

You watched him intensely as he pulled the latex over his fingers, almost drooling at the thought of them running along your folds. You shook away the thought, knowing that you would be completely dripping by the time he would be sitting between your legs, examining you.

The last thing you wanted was for him to know the effect he still had on you, even after all these years.

He made eye contact with you again, tugging at the tie around his neck once again as he took the chair, rolling it to the edge of your feet. Before sitting he pulled out the stirrups.

“You can rest your heels on here,” He pointed to the plastic, and you noticed how his ears began to flush red, his chest rising and falling quickly as he glanced into your eyes once again.

When he looked away you glanced down at his black slacks, swallowing harshly at the bold outline of his erection that was extremely evident, through his tight pants.

You swallowed as you slowly lifted your legs, exposing yourself to the man who now sat at the end of the bed, the thin blanket sliding down your thighs gently, leaving your body on display for Dr. Davis.

“Fuck.”

The word was barely audible. He had whispered it so quietly through gritted teeth, but you still managed to hear the four-letter word, and it sent another rush of warm lust through your body.

“I-I’m just going to examine you before inserting the speculum.” Dr. Davis’ professional tone faltered briefly, and you wanted to look down at him so badly.

You knew that he was aroused, but you had no idea how badly Noah wanted to tear into your pussy right then and there.

For years Noah wondered what happened to you. After years of dedication to med school, he didn’t have much time to form relationships, and he usually had a quick fuck here and there to tie over his cravings. He reminisced frequently about how good you felt wrapped around his cock, all of his past flings never making him feel quite how you did.

This morning when he agreed to substitute at the clinic he had no idea what to expect. You were the last thing he thought would happen, and the second he read your name on that piece of paper as he entered your room he felt his mind begin to spiral.

How was he supposed to remain professional around you?

His biggest regret was never pursuing anything further with you years ago, worried that if feelings got involved he would lose the best thing he ever had. In turn, he fucked himself over in the end, because he had lost you either way; but now, you were right here in front of him, naked and on display.

The second he saw you sitting on the exam table he felt an immediate rush to his pants, his mind racing as he began to sweat, the room suddenly feeling stuffy and tight. He couldn’t help but watch your lips as they parted when you talked, memories of them wrapped around himself as your tongue slid up and down his length leaving him unable to concentrate as he attempted to read your file.

He watched as you shifted nervously in front of him when he checked your lungs, heart racing rapidly under his touch. He wanted to rip your thighs apart, slipping his fingers into you, wanting to leave you begging.

Noah wanted to pull his name from your lips; leaving you worshiping him, needing him.

He kept reminding himself that he was a professional now and that it was unacceptable to push the boundary of client-patient professionalism. There was a code of conduct and ethics he was required to follow; but he wanted to forget years of practice, just to get a taste of you.

You lay there, trying to keep your heavy breathing quiet; but you immediately gasped as one of his covered fingers spread you open, barely touching your skin, afraid to go further.

You closed your mouth tightly, biting the inside of your cheek as you scolded yourself.

Don’t fucking moan, don’t fucking moan. He barely touched you.

“I’m going to insert the speculum now,” He said quietly, and you heard him whisper another sentence to himself, “God, you don’t even need lube…”

You knew that he knew how turned on you were by just his presence alone, and you closed your eyes as Dr. Davis inserted the plastic into your body, the feeling of fullness causing you to chew on your bottom lip.

Dr. Davis clicked the hinges as the speculum opened you up, and you covered your mouth with your hand, something Noah had noticed.

“Are you in pain?” He asked gently, and you shook your head.

“N-no, I-I’m okay.”

He hummed again, and it was quiet for a moment.

There was a lack of movement for a second until you felt a gloved finger brush across your clit slowly, and you furrowed your brows in anticipation.

Fuck, that had to be an accident, right?

You tried to think rationally about the situation, but your thoughts trailed to dirty places, silently pleading that Dr. Davis would press against your intimacy again.

Noah had listened for your reaction as he sat before your legs that held you splayed open for him, his mind battling. He swallowed hungrily.

You felt his fingers brush against you again and your thighs jolted to his touch, before you felt the pad of his finger press firmly against you, tracing small circles as he tried drawing a moan from your lips.

Your mouth fell open in satisfaction as your body clenched, Dr. Davis’ fingers rubbing faster and faster.

You couldn’t help it as a gentle whimper crawled from your chest, and with furrowed brows, you bucked your hips into his touch; giving him the permission he desperately wanted.

You felt the speculum being removed, and seconds later a wet swipe trailed up along your folds.

“Oh my god,” You whispered and Dr. Davis hummed, his lips latching onto your sweet spot before two gloved fingers slid into you, curling upwards.

You began to moan again, pulling the blanket away to see the brunette devouring your body. He looked up at you with lustful eyes, his mask pulled underneath his chin.

You ogled upon seeing his entire face, brows furrowed with desire as he remained stone cold.

“If you moan loudly one more time I’ll stop.” He said as he began licking your body once again, eyes fixated on your own.

“Y-yes.”

“Yes, what?” He said, pulling his mouth away as he continued to pump his fingers in and out rapidly, taking his thin glasses off and placing them on the table.

“Yes sir.”

“Good girl,” he praised, burying himself between your legs again in famish, devouring you feverishly with complete craving.

Your legs began to shake from his praise and you covered your mouth with your hands as your hips pushed into Dr. Davis’ touch, completely engulfed with euphoria.

You didn’t know that he was palming himself through his slacks as he ate you out, desperate for friction, desperate for you to be the one touching him instead.

“Cum.” He demanded, and in a second his tongue swiped along your folds you felt the knot that he built release, elation washing through you as you choked back a desiring cry.

Your free hand gripped Dr. Davis’ hair as you pulled him closer, rubbing yourself along his face as he ate you until it became too much, pushing him away.

He stood up, mouth agape and wet from your release as you watched him with yearning, both your chests heaving.

He hastily began pulling off his white coat, throwing it to the floor as you watched him loosen his tie. Sitting up you beckoned him over and his fingers gripped your throat, pulling you towards him as his forehead rested against your own.

You looked into each other’s eyes as unspoken words danced between you, both of you needing each other but too afraid to speak.

He held you firmly for a moment before pulling your lips to his own, kissing you completely with need and hunger, forcing you to taste yourself

You groaned quietly into his lips as your tongues ran along each other, your fingers shaky as you began unbuttoning his blue dress shirt.

His fingers tightened around your neck as your hands trailed to the hem of his black pants, tugging at his waistband as you pulled apart his belt, sliding the zipper down slowly.

He moaned softly as your fingers slid along his abdomen, threatening to dip in to grab where he needed you.

“You’re in no position to tease princess, remember that,” He squeezed your neck again as he towered over you in authority, and you smiled.

“This is wrong.”

“So wrong.” He mumbled before kissing you in desperation again, your minds fogged with nothing but lust and arousal.

Dr. Davis’ hands pulled your shirt over your head as he pulled back, taking in the image of your exposed body, ready for him.

His covered fingers found their way to your core once again, slipping in and out as you pulled down his underwear, his body hard and ready to devour you.

You licked your fingers, smiling up at him as he watched with lustful eyes, before grabbing hold of his erection, pumping up and down as he thrust into your hand in eagerness. He pulled his fingers in and out of you quickly, your mouth falling open as you watched each other, pleasing one another.

“Spread your legs, baby,” Dr. Davis pleaded, and you opened your thighs farther.

“That’s it… Wider,” He whispered, before pulling his hands away from you, wrapping them around himself as he positioned his body to yours.

Dr. Davis didn’t hesitate any longer before he pushed into you, a loud whimper leaving you. His eyebrows furrowed angrily as his gloved hand covered your mouth, pushing you back into the wall.

“Be fucking quiet,” He said through gritted teeth, his chest heaving as he continued to thrust into you, filling your body, claiming you as his own.

He tore into your skin with his motions, the feeling of him pulling out before pushing back in deeply causing your legs to clench shut. He pushed them open with the hand that wasn’t covering your mouth.

“I said to spread them,” He scolded, fingers digging into your thigh before he slapped the top of your intimacy, earning a yelp from you as your body jolted from the contact.

He remained cold and composed, attempting to keep up his professional facade that was beginning to crumble before you. His eyes squeezed shut as he pushed your thighs back towards your chest, opening you as he fucked your body with possession.

You watched his head tilt back, exposing the tattoos on his neck as his lips fell open in complete satisfaction.

Your body felt perfectly wrapped around him, years of need ready to release into you.

Dr. Davis wanted to flip you over so you stood in front of him, one leg lifted onto the bed as he gripped your ass and pounded you; but he knew that right now, he needed to watch your face contort in pleasure for him, from him.

Your body clenched around him, “Dr. D-Davis,” You whimpered, still trying to remain quiet so as to not be heard by the rest of the clinic.

“Noah,” the brunette growled, bringing you into a kiss and you nodded, murmuring his name back to him against his lips in a plea.

He was close to his release, but he held back, waiting to pull another orgasm from you before he would bring you to your knees, ready to cum down your throat.

“You can do it, that’s a good girl.” He praised and you melted at his words, letting go as he thrust into you one more time, your body completely enveloping him as your mouth was covered by his hand once again to mask your screams. Your body shook through the orgasm Noah offered you.

He slid in and out slowly, before pulling away. His fingers were threaded through your hair as he guided you to the floor, placing you on your knees.

You took him into your mouth mercilessly, sucking and bobbing along his length before he gripped your face, pulling you closer.

You gagged along him, tears forming as a deep growl rumbled from his chest, signalling he was close.

Seconds later Noah’s release coated the back of your throat, and you swallowed his orgasm, looking up at him in commitment.

“You’ve always been mine to ruin,” He said, panting as he pulled you off of him, and you sat on the ground, smiling up at him.

The two of you got dressed in silence, the hormones lingering in the air as he pulled off the gloves, grabbing his prescription notepad and a pen.

“I wasn’t able to get a good enough sample to send off to the lab,” He said, scribbling away, “I’ll need you to meet me at my office this weekend.”

Dr. Davis handed you the note and you looked at the paper, staring at the phone number and address as he nodded toward you, opening the wooden door and leaving the office.

hshshgsghshghsshgh ok i am a mess

#bad omens #noah sebastian #bad omens cult #bad omens band #noah sebastian davis #metalcore #dr davis #Dr. Davis #noah sebastian smut #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian x reader #smut #bad omens smut #Doctor Noah Sebastian

[bimbobaggins69]

𝟏𝟖+ 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐱 “𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭” 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Three light taps on your window pull you out of the reverie of your favorite romance novel. You can’t help but to clutch your pink nightie closer to your icy skin as you tiptoe across your room and slowly with shaky hands move your curtain to the side to get a good look at who the silhouette belongs to. It’s none other than Steve Harrington, the king of Hawkins high and your bully.

It started about a week ago, you were lucky to get through most of high school with your head down and completely unscathed by the bitchy hierarchy of teenage popularity. That was until Steve who sat behind you in English, noticed that you aced the mid semester test; which cost half your grade.

Since then you’ve been doing all of his book reports for him, you couldn’t deny you didn’t like the attention, even if he did make fun of you for being a prude nerd. So, this last book report you had devised a plan. Steve was always threatening to punish you and you wanted to see if he’d follow through with said threats, which left you to purposely bomb it.

You slowly lift your window, letting the cool air and the chirps from the crickets fill your room. “Hurry up!” Steve pressed, before climbing through rather clumsily. After he fully stood and dusted off his knees, he took a folded paper out of the back of his jean pocket. “What the fuck is this? Huh?” You can’t help the excited chill that runs through your body from his tone.

“What’s what?” You say, feigning innocence as you blink up at him with your biggest doe eyes. You were so close, you could practically feel the anger radiating off of him. “Don’t play stupid, me and you both know you’re not.” Steve chides, as his brows furrow down at you. “Why’d you purposely fail my book report, huh? Didn’t I tell you there’d be consequences if you don’t do what I say?” He grits and his jaw tenses before his eyes fall to your tits that are now peaked from the cold, the thin fabric of the nightie isn’t doing the best job at concealing them from the jock.

“I fucking meant it, okay? I’m gonna have to punish you.” His harsh tone doesn’t match the soft touch of his fingers that slide over your clothed nipples. “What do you want me to do, Steve?” You purr up at him as you bat your lashes. “You know how I’m always calling you a prude, baby? Well today’s your lucky day. I’m gonna show you how to suck a cock. Get down on your knees.” Steve demands.

Little did the king of Hawkins high know, you knew how to suck cock; you were experienced in pretty much everything sexual. Thanks to your fuck buddy and drug dealer, Eddie.

But you indulge his delusions by keeping up the innocent virgin act, just for a bit longer.

You quickly pop the button of his jeans and slide the zipper down its track, being met with a pair of tighty whiteys that you assume by the deep flush of his cheeks; he was just remembering he had on. “Cute.” You giggle, making him fist a hand in your hair and pull until a stinging sensation has you whimpering as tears sting your eyes. He finally removes himself from his confines—

His cock is huge, but you show no traces of even acknowledging that fact, last thing king Steve needed was an even bigger ego.

“Open up you fucking brat.” He hisses while his hand still tugs at your tresses. The soft tugs cause you to soak through your panties and leave you eager to rub your needy clit on anything for some relief. “That’s it, good girl.” Steve praises as he rubs his leaking tip across your wet tongue. Your lips finally close around it, before inching down and taking him expertly into the back of your throat. “Holy shit!” He jerks at the unexpected pleasure, as you continue to bob and gag on him. It’s almost too much considering he thought not even two minutes ago that he was going to have to guide you and talk you through it. No fucking way were you a prude virgin like he suspected, he’s been with plenty virgins. Nah, you were a little cock slut and fuck did he love the thought of his own personal whore who milked his cock and did his school work so he could stay the captain of the basketball team.

A deep groan falls from his lips when you begin to fondle his balls while you continue to suck him for all he’s worth. Spit falls onto the carpet below and you’re canting your hips as if a bitch in heat. You take two hands and twist around his shaft as you suck the tip, working him like a fucking pro. You look up at him with tears running down your soft cheeks and hunger in your eyes, and that absolutely does the jock in. You quickly notice the way his thighs shake and his moans grow louder, leaving you to lull your tongue out as you lick at his frenulum and continue twisting your hands around his spit soaked cock, ready to catch all of his warm creamy spend. Steve watches as his come shoots onto your tongue and down your throat, you swallow it all before sticking the pink muscle back out to show him how good of a girl you’d been by swallowing everything he’d so graciously given you.

“You’re a slut.” Steve states, with a blissed out look on his face. “I thought you were a virgin, why didn’t you tell me you weren’t a fucking prude?” He can’t help but smile from just receiving the best blow job of his life. Something about the little innocent girl who he makes do his work, but is actually a secret slut has him feeling possessive and as if he now has to assert some kind of claim over you.

“You didn’t ask.” You shrug as you wipe your chin. “Now can we move this along? The guy that taught me how to give that dynamite blow job will be here soon and I don’t wanna screw up my chances of getting fucked because he finds King Steve in my room.” You hand him his paper and push him back towards your window. “Your- wait what?” He asks in disbelief.

“This was fun, but you have to go. See ya later, Stevie.” Steve moves down your trellis in shock at what had just transpired. There was no way he was letting you go that fast, so when he made it to his car he decided to sit for a few, in order to catch a glimpse of who you were talking about. Just as Steve got comfortable against his leather seat, a beat up van was pulling up to the side of your house. But it wasn’t just any van, no it was Eddie Munsons van.

Well that just won’t do, come tomorrow morning you’re gonna know exactly who you belong to, no matter what Steve has to do in the process.

#— 𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 #steve harrington moodboard #steve harrington smut #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve stranger things #steve x reader

[savannahsdeath]

hiii i love ur fics ive read them all i ws wondering if you could like do a 18+ with a extremely jealous ellie??

thank you sm ily😭💞and yes ofc i tried my best!!

JEALOUS!ELLIE WILLIAMS X READER

mdni please<3

summary: els didnt like some of the messages she found on your phone..

warnings: 18+!! smut, jealousy(obv), language

writers note: sorry it took me so long to post it😓ive actually written it like one day after you requested but i had already some posts planned and i didnt want to change everything now💔

You came back after a meeting with your co-workers to see your girlfriend waiting for you. As soon as she heard the door open, she leaned on the doorframe of the living room, looking at you with an undefined expression.

"You're late." She mumbled, her voice sounding mad but the way she planted wet little kisses all over your face said otherwise.

Ellie's closeness wasn't just out of greeting, but out of an act of possessiveness and jealousy that you grew accustomed to in the relationship.

You sighed and looked at Ellie for a second, before saying, "Yeah, I'm late. Sorry." You gave her a quick kiss too while looking for your keys. "Meeting ended late." Your voice wasn't as cheery as it usually is.

Ellie then rolled her eyes. "Did you really had to stay that long?" She muttered loudly, trying to hide the jealousy that was so clearly showing.

"It was important." You said, finding your keys and pulling them out of your pockets. You didn't sound upset because it was hard to be upset with Ellie. She was like a little kitten who was possessive and needy at times, but still oh so sweet.

Ellie rolled her eyes again but smiled, and she leaned onto you with her arms wrapped around your waist in a hug. This was where you felt safe and home.

"C'mon," she said softly, "let's go to bed."

You nodded. "I'll just go to the bathroom, 'kay?" You asked, giving her your bag, like you always did after work - she'll lug it upstairs for you.

"Of course, darling." Ellie smiled as she took the bag from you, her expression now fully warm and affectionate. You were lucky to have her, and you knew that.

You went to the bathroom and started to wash your face and brush your teeth, taking a moment to yourself.

After a few minutes, and a good splash of cold water on your face, you exited the bathroom and made your way upstairs. Ellie was waiting for you in the bedroom.

She was doing something on your phone, which didn't surprise you - she was probably just going through your gallery, staring at your pics. You had nothing to hide anyway.

She often did that, smiling widely and mumbling things like 'my wife's so pretty'.

This time, though, she was silent and had a frown on her face.

"Who's Steve?" She asked when she saw you.

"I don't know." You answered honestly. You had no idea who is she talking about, probably a random boy following you.

"You two texted." She passed your phone to you with an opened short conversation. He replied to your story, complimenting you, you thanked him, that's all.

"Yeah, I remember now. What about him?" You lied down next to her, curiously staring at the screen, expecting some more messages to magically appear and explain the situation.

Ellie sat on top of you, playing with the hem of your shirt. "He's hitting on you." She said as she got more bold, now not only fingers but her whole hands sliding up and down your waist.

"I don't know him. He just texted me once." You shrugged, reading the conversation over and over again to find which part made your girlfriend act like that.

"Yeah, and what does his text say?" She smirked, not in her usual innocent way, but in a 'think twice before you answer' way.

You scrolled to his first message and read it out loud. It was simple "stunning💞" in a reply to your story - a photo Ellie took of you at the beach a week ago but you forgot to post it before.

"Exactly. Now, what are you wearing on that pic?" Her smirk widened as she started to undo the button of your jeans.

You didn't pay much attention to her moves, focusing on her orders. "A swimsuit. I mean, we were at th-"

She shushed you, pressing her lips against yours. She pulled away after a good minute, leaving you breathless. She forced the phone, which slipped off of your embrace while she kissed you, back between your fingers.

"Stop explaining yourself or I'll think you actually have something to explain. For now, I'm just asking simple questions. Do I look like I'm mad?" She held your chin with one of her hands, while the other was unbuttoning your formal-looking work shirt.

She really didn't look mad, but you knew it's just her ability to camouflage.

You let out a relieved sigh as soon as you catched your breath. "Oh. Right. Look, it's not a big deal, I told him I'm-"

"Busy. Yeah, I know." She cut you off. "Pretty pathetic excuse."

"What was I supposed to say?" You barely managed to say as she started tracing a path of messy, wet kisses from your neck down your body.

"Are you seriously asking me that?" She laughed and you could feel the vibrations in her breath caused by her sudden outburst on your stomach, right were she stopped to answer you.

You stayed quiet, not wanting to make it worse or seem even dumber in her eyes than you already do, if that's even possible. She noticed your confusion and didn't pressure you to read her mind.

"That you have a girlfriend. That she told you to post it. That she took this pic." She made a pause after every sentence to cling her tongue, followed quickly after with her mouth, to your core, watching your body slightly squirm. You didn't even realize when she arrived that low, and when she took off your underwear, but that wasn't important anymore. "That it was her idea to go to the beach. That she helped you pick your swimsuit. That she saw you in it first..."

"Els... Stop..." You moaned out, feeling jealous of how unbothered she looks while you were already soaking.

"Stop what?" She laughed, sucking on your clit while taking off her rings.

This simple, two-words question, turned out to be more difficult to answer than you'd thought. Actually, what did you had in mind while telling her to stop? Hers 'that she...' calculations? Her hand placement, which had a bruising grip on your thighs? Or her tongue, that had definitely affected you the most, making you drop the phone, screen-down on the bed, and hopefully hold into the bed sheets?

"That's what I thought." She said before you could think of a correct answer.

She had a whole scolding prepared in her mind, but you wasn't honoured to hear it as she had a better plan. Still, she wanted to talk to you through it, watching you do your best to answer or just understand her while she makes you look and feel like a total mess. In order to not leave your cunt hopelessly tremble, right after she took her tongue off of your clit, she pushed two fingers into your entrance.

You gasped, squeezing your thighs together, which made Ellie laugh. It was a normal reaction - her move was unexpected - but your eyes rolling back always got a reaction out of her.

"Back to the topic, want to tell me why you decided saying 'you're busy' will work?" She smirked, her fingers pumping in and out, clenching and unclenching, in a painfully fast and rough way. Her thumb rubbed your clit, replacing her tongue.

"I... If I-'d" You stuttered, taking a deep breath after every letter you managed to say.

"Y-Y...You what?" She mocked your mumbling, her smirk turning into a smile.

Your back arched, making your hips move higher, but Ellie held them down with her free arm. Even though her nails were trimmed short, so she won't have to worry she'll hurt your pretty cunt, you swore you feel them digging into your waist.

"That hurt-s..." You whispered, but you weren't really bothered by it, even though your eyes were starting to get teary.

"Yeah? Don't worry, I'm sure Steve would make it hurt more... if you'd give him a chance, that is. But you didn't and won't." Her free hand let go of your hip, taking your phone and staring at the unlocked screen, clearly thinking or considering something. "I know you're mine and you know that too." She finally concluded, but right before she put the device down, you got a notification.

She mischievously smiled as she saw who's the message from.

"You got yourself a fan." She laughed as she opened your conversation with the reason of her jealous behaviour. "'Still busy?' and a fucking winking emoji. Jesus, that's just embarrasing."

You couldn't help but admire how good her attention span was - one hand making you a whining mess, other typing on your phone, eyes barely looking away from you (only to read his text, she typed hers blindly), mind probably racing with ideas to make him, or you, or both of you, regret your little conversation. She was obviously overreacting, but then again, your profile was full of Ellie and there's no way he missed all the cute posts about her.

"Should I show him how 'stunning' you look right now?" She chuckled and shook her head. "Nah, this view is for me only."

"What d-id you do?" You stuttered, trying to take your phone back, but she placed it out of your reach and aggressively grabbed your wrist.

"I liked it more when you moaned instead of asking questions." And just as she said that, she got faster again, making your cunt tighten even more around her fingers. Even though it may seem she's not paying much attention to how precise she is, she kept violating your sensitive spot, not missing it once.

Your head hit the pillow, leaning back on it and exposing your throat from which many signs of your pleasure came.

She was wondering again, her eyes looking you up and down before finally staying at your face. Her smile faded as she looked at you for a few moments. Then, she picked up your phone and passed it to you, following by simple but stern words; "Block him."

Your hands were shaky, so instead of pressing the block button, you almost accidentally called him a few times.

Ellie's smirk came back as she looked at you obediently fulfill her requests. She knew she could make you do anything she wanted now, but she didn't feel the need to. The only thing she needed was you with her - her only.

She took the mobile from you, whispering soft 'good girl' as she saw you succeed to do what she asked you to.

"Next time, if someone bothers you, just tell me straight away." She patted your cheek, her focus going back to what's her right hand doing.

This boy didn't bother you at all, he was just nice. But you knew what Ellie meant - he bothered her. Without arguing, you silently nodded, knowing this is the last time you posted a swimsuit photo on your account.

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