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#literally I was on the couch reading this. got here and was like. fuck
claymorexpunisher · 3 days
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I'll Shut You Up (18+ Fic) (Ch. 2/?)
Pairing(s): Rhea Ripley/Fem. Reader
Disclaimer: This is NSFW. If that's not your thing, keep scrolling. I try to tag my work appropriately and if you still choose to click and read, do so at your own discretion. Thank you for the love, always, and I hope you enjoy!
Summary: It’s pretty well known that Rhea and Fem. Reader can’t stand one another. Reader thinks Rhea’s way cockier than she should be and Rhea thinks as highly about Reader as much as she thinks about the dirt at the bottom of her boot. Well… so they say, at least. A packed hotel mishap forces them to bunk together, and Rhea presses her luck by running her mouth.
Fic Tag(s): 18+, enemies to hatefucking, forced proximity, overbooked hotel, WM weekend, Bottom Sub!Rhea, Dom Top!Reader, bratty!Rhea, a little bit of oral (Rhea receiving) anal play/penetration, size difference, strap-on, nipple play, hair-pulling, spit for lube (I KNOWWW IM SORRY), begging, spanking, biting, slapping, choking.)
Chapter Word Count: 1,739
Prev Chapter
Because fate is a cruel asshole, I got exactly what I didn’t want.
“Absolutely fucking not.” I repeated, this time louder, my hands clenched so hard around the handle of my suitcase that my hands shook.
I watched Rhea’s smirk widen even more; she was clearly taking pleasure in my obvious irritation.
“I’m not sharing a room with you.” I spat once I shut the door behind me and I walked further into the room.
“Not like you have a choice, sweetheart.” Rhea replied, cool as a cucumber in bed.
The sheets covered her lower half until she decided to peel them back and saunter over towards me just to give me a condescending pat on the head as she toward over me, laughing at the way I glowered at her.
As I broke are stare-off, my eyes mistakenly wandered over her muscled frame, over her black sports bra and I stopped short- no pun intended- at her v-shaped underwear that quite literally left zero to the imagination.
“Eyes up here, cutie.” Rhea purred.
Her pointer and middle finger slowly lifted my chin and her eyes sparkled even as I batted her hand away and frowned deeper.
“I know I’m a sight for sore eyes but-”
“Oh my god. Do you ever shut the fuck up?!” I yelled as I rolled my eyes and shouldered past her with my luggage and I heaved the dark blue suitcase onto the couch a few feet from the bed.
“You always say that. And yet…” My skin prickled as I heard her coming up behind me and her warm breath ghosted over my ear as she murmured, “…and you’ve not made a single attempt to make me.”
There.
She’d used two of the magic words you could throw at a Dom Top and I began to salivate before I pulled myself back.
Barely.
“But then again, I don’t see how tiny little thing like you could possibly even try.” She laughed.
This time I decided I wasn’t gonna let her get the best of me.
“I don’t think you really want me to sort you out, sweetheart.” I replied, letting her see my words for what they were.
“Ooh, but I think I do.” Rhea replied with a slightly raspy giggle, gasping softly as her eyes landed on my open suitcase.
I was taking out my pj’s, completely forgetting about the red strap-on dildo that I had wrapped in plastic and stuffed onto the side of my suitcase.
“What are you doing with that?!” She asked, shock laced her tone.
Shock that irritated me to no end, but again, I remained calm.
Right then and there, I decided that enough was enough.
If Rhea was gonna keep baiting me, then like any effective Dom Top, I’d bite.
I’d bite until she yielded just like any brat eventually did if you push the right buttons.
“What do you think I’m doing with it? Putting a sock over it and making puppet shows on my spare time?” I retorted.
I watched Rhea’s hand reach around me towards the toy and I let her snatch it.
I was gonna let her have her fun for now…
While I continued sorting out my toiletries and picking my pjs, I stole a glance behind me, watching her inspect the toy.
I was immediately plagued my filthy thoughts of shoving that toy down Rhea’s throat until tears pooled in her eyes, making it nice and wet for what I was going to do her, and it was all I could do to not clench my thighs.
Once again, I was caught staring at the Aussie woman and our eyes met.
That damn persistent and infuriating smirk was back on her lips as she put the toy back where it was, but I set aside along with its harness.
“Who’s gonna use that on you? Because I really don’t see a tiny little thing like you using it on anybo-” Rhea’s words cut off as I interrupted, but I didn’t bother verbally answering her question.
“You walk around like you’re hot shit. Like you’re Hunter’s golden child… and I almost can’t blame you entirely. The way he’s paraded you around and talked big game about you…” I chucked and turned around to face Rhea, noticing the small step she took backwards.
Yeah, I was definitely starting to figure this woman out…
I reached out and pulled her towards me by her the elastic of her underwear.
I smirked a little as I watched and felt Rhea’s stomach muscles flex as she inhaled sharply.
“But you’re nothing more than a delusional shot at redemption and absolution for him. Absolution from his sins against someone he can no longer apologize to. You are the living embodiment of his guilt and regret. That is all you are to him. And deep down I think you know that… But he’s put so much energy and time into you and you… for as much as you say you’re no longer a people-pleaser-” I looked up at Rhea sharply, sensing that she was going open her smart mouth and I wasn’t wrong.
I was pleased to watch her mouth snap shut as soon as steely gaze met hers.
“Yes, I’ve watched some of your interviews, I’m not dumb. I study everyone in this locker room nowadays. Especially you.- And you walk around like you’re this… this alpha female. But you’re nothing more than an insecure little brat who needs the validation and a lot of attention and you don’t know how else to get it, so you’re completely okay with cosplaying as someone for some applause and attention and praise from your boss or from the fans. And now that I think about it, maybe even from me.” I continued and I noticed a switch flip at that, as if I’d hit a nerve.
But still, she said nothing.
Hm. Boring.
“You walk around as if being hand-picked by someone like him is some type of flex. Sweetheart, if you were sick and tired of cosplaying as a big, bad and Dominant woman when what you really want and need is to be in your place, then all ya had to do was ask.” My voice was down to a mere whisper. I watched goosebumps raise on Rhea’s skin as my fingers continued to explore the skin on her abdomen with every word I hissed at her.
Her momentary obedience was short lived and her eyes became furious.
Red-hot anger burned in them, along with something else entirely underneath that she seemed to try to smother.
But I was nothing if not observant…
All of it fueled me.
I drank it all up, and my eyes glinted in amusement now as her hips bucked a little and she silently urged my hand lower as if her body had a mind of its own and as if her anger was propelling her actions.
But I didn’t give her what she wanted.
Not yet at least.
The hand that was on the waistband of her panties slowly snaked upwards again, and my thighs became slick with my arousal as Rhea let out an involuntary sound that was a cross between a whimper and a growl.
“Fuck. You. You don’t know me-” Rhea snipped, eyes blazing with fury but I swiftly interrupted.
“Neither do you.” I replied sharply.
My traveling hand suddenly came upwards to grip her neck, not quite cutting off her breathing as much as cutting off the rant I knew was on its way.
The way she froze and suddenly went pliant fascinated me… and it just proved my points.
“You’re nothing but a carbon copy of someone else. I mean look at you, Rhea.” I said as my other hand went up to fiddle with a strand of her dyed hair.
“You have no idea who you are. Who you really are. You’re all bark and no fucking bite. Playing the role of someone else even when the cameras are offand I’m sick of it.” I growled. “I promise you, I could have you squealing like the fuckin virgin you seem to think I am, in .5 seconds.” I chuckled as her eyes widened for a fraction of a second.
Some of that cocky defiance returned to Rhea’s eyes but I could tell it was half-hearted.
But it fueled me just as much.
“Show me, then. Show me who I am… put me in my place.” Rhea purred, her tone and gaze seductive as she gazed down at my lips and back up at my eyes.
She then took advantage of the fact that my hand slackened a bit in surprise.
She was quick, but I was quicker and I moved my head before Rhea could sink her teeth into my bottom lip and I my hand squeezed a tad bit harder and I watched her struggle not to go completely pliant.
She was definitely a stubborn one but I didn’t mind.
From her demeanor alone I could tell that she was goading me some more, not quite believing that I’d deliver on my promise yet curious to find out if I would.
“Okay… then how do you want me, ma’am?” Rhea shot back sarcastically as she walked towards the bed once I let go of her throat.
“Like this?” She asked as she crawled onto the bed, back arched and her ass up in the air, inviting me to spank it so I did just that.
I chuckled as her body jolted and she gave a yelp as both my hands cracked down on each of her ass cheeks as soon as she settled down behind her on my knees.
“That works, actually. Hands behind your back.” I commanded.
Of course she didn’t immediately comply, so I did it myself, holding at least one of her wrists over her back.
“Fuck! I hate you-” She began to rant as I pulled her panties down and I brought my hand down on her ass again and again, until her ass cheeks turned the gorgeous red I had envisioned.
Her body trembled even as she fought and I could see her pussy glistening with arousal.
I stole a look into her eyes and noticed them becoming glassier by the second and that made satisfaction and arousal course through my veins, hitting the spot just as much as a delicious pot of my morning fucking coffee...
Next Chapter
@theworldofotps @alyyaanna @southerngirl41 @harmshake @mzv11 @letsgivethisonemoreshot @theundertakeriscoming @slutfortheeclaymore @auraravenora77 @niknakattack @moonwolfdemonprincess21 @babiidee28 @thesamoanqueen @omegasshyghuleh6661ghosts @xndalynch @84reedsy @romanstheory @kianaleani @elefrog25-blog @motherknuckers @phantasmacabre @wandering-fox @lxndonorris @girlnred @yo-yo89 @smile1318 @sassginaswanmills @exhaustedclown @aritannahrocks1300 @superlove167 @ayeeitsali @queencherryberry @truefant4sy @codyswhitebelt @blackmeetsworld @salirophiliac @kayfabebabe @rhea-the-eradicator @souleatermia @bittersweetastoria @domripley @wrestlingprincess80 @myluvrrhea
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Hellaurr
I had a very interesting dream plz I'm desperate for Minho to facefuck me so so so so rough plz I'm literally foaming in the mouth for his cum (desperate ass call for desperate measures 🤣🤣🤣)
(with lots of degrading plz)
Hehe if ur comfortable could you make it a male!reader? If not it's fine hehe just make it gn or fem, heheheheheheh tysm 🎉✨💅
I was so excited when this ask hit my inbox. Thank you @chuuchuu1224 for sending me my first ever request for a male!reader 😘
I thoroughly enjoyed writing this, and it was so fucking hot in my head, but now I’m about to post it I’m a little nervous. As much as I love writing from a guys perspective (usually skz member’s perspective with fem!reader), I’m not a guy. So I’m never going to truly know the experience. I hope I did ok 🫣
To my female readers: I really hope you give this a read because I’m pretty sure you’ll enjoy it if you generally enjoy my work. Minho face fucking is a need.
Lastly, degradation is a challenge for me (I’m a praise baby, but I love reading degradation). I’m sorry if it’s not degrading enough 😬.
CW basically everything in the ask 👆
‼️⚠️As always MDNI⚠️‼️
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You watched Minho perform every single week at the local theatre. Saying he was your favourite dancer was an understatement. You were well and truly obsessed with him. Your eyes would be glued on his incredible physique from start to finish, not even noticing the other performers.
Minho was everything. Strong and controlled. Fluid and graceful. He had an expression of disdain one minute, a cute flirty glimmer in his eyes the next. And the way he rolled his hips whilst looking down at himself? Well, that always got you leaking, right there in the theatre.
Every week, you'd grow hard in your pants while sitting in the audience, hoping the person who sat next to you didn't see the boner your were sporting.
You'd think about him all the way home, and more often than not, you had to fuck into your hand before you even made it into the house. You always made sure to keep a packet of tissues in the glovebox of your car.
Tonight, Minho's performance had you hornier than usual, and you made an executive decision to go find the bathrooms to alleviate your situation, before anyone had a chance to see the state you were in.
"Y/n? That is your name, right?" A voice stopped you just as you were about to walk into the bathroom. Startled, and a little panicked, you turned to the person speaking to you.
Minho. Fuck. Your hands quickly tried to hide the bulge in your pants.
Minho's eyes followed your hands to your crotch. "hmph." he grunted and raised an eyebrow.
"Y-yes...that's me." you smiled sheepishly whilst dying inside.
----
"I've seen you here before, y/n." Minho said as he stripped the last of your clothes off your body. "Many times, in fact."
You were laying completely naked on a huge couch in a back room of the theatre. You gripped your cock as you watched Minho casually undress himself, tossing the garments to the floor. "Do you come to watch me?" he turned and smirked at you, before his eyes dropped to where you held yourself. “Tsk tsk. I didn’t say you could touch yourself now did I?”
You immediately released your cock, letting it lay against your lower abs, and swallowed hard in anticipation. What was Minho going to do to you?
“I see your pretty little face in the audience. Every. Single. Week.” He sauntered towards you and ran his hand up your leg, then your torso, causing you to tremble. “Watching me with that slutty mouth hung open.” He cupped your chin. “And you know what I wonder to myself every time I see you?”
Your eyes grew wide as they stared up at the man you’d admired from afar for so long.
“What that mouth would look like choking on my cock?”
You groaned and closed your eyes, your dick hardening even more.
“Hmm.” Minho stroked your cheek. “You like the idea of my cock rammed down your throat.” He forced your mouth open, shoving two fingers inside. You moaned again and sucked on his fingers, showing him what a good, obedient boy you could be.
He pulled his fingers out abruptly, dragging your saliva all over your chin.
Minho moved to grab your legs and pulled you further down the length of the couch, then climbed over you to straddle your chest. His magnificent dancer’s thighs pressed down on your chest, and his delicious, mouthwatering cock, was mere inches from your face.
“Beg me for it.” He said coldly, gripping his cock with one hand and a fistful of your hair in the other.
Your eyes started to water at the desperation you felt. You wanted him so bad you’d do anything to have him just use you. Use you for his pleasure and discard you when he was done. You’d thank him for it.
“Pl-please… Minho… need…your cock. Need your cum.” You whined.
Minho rubbed the head of his cock along your lower lip, swiping precum on it like it was lip gloss. You started to wriggle, you needed him to put it inside you now!
“Use me… please…I wanna be your cockslut.” You sobbed. Minho kept rubbing the tip of his cock along the edge of your mouth.
“Yeah? Want me to fuck you good? Destroy your throat, hmm?”
You nodded desperately.
“Okay. If you think you can take it. Open.” He demanded, and you complied instantly. “No touching yourself or me.”
He pushed his cock deep into your mouth and hissed as it passed over your tongue.
“That’s it.. take it down…Such a fucking slut. Yes. Open wider.” He pulled out halfway and thrust his hips to push himself in further.
You couldn’t breathe. He filled your mouth so good. He tasted like soap and sweat. His skin so velvety and smooth, and the way the veins felt along you tongue did things to your insides.
Minho fucked into your mouth furiously, hitting the back of your throat every single time. Your eyes watered and you hoped with everything you had that you didn’t gag.
“You’re taking this a little too well.” Grunted Minho. With the hand that was gripping your hair, he pushed the back of your head into the couch, and angled his hips to push his cock in until your lips were wrapped around the base. The tip squeezed past your throat, making you gag with a gurgling sound, and your face turn red.
“Finally choking on it properly now.” He slapped your cheek, and fucking you harder still.
You were pinned under his strong legs, unable to escape - not that you wanted to. Your legs started moving about, and your hips began to jutt against thin air. You wanted some friction, but your poor cock had to just lay there, swollen and neglected.
Your hand came up to rest on Minho’s thighs. That was a big mistake.
Minho paused, still lodged deep in your mouth. “What did I say, slut? Take your filthy hands off me.” He said through gritted teeth.
You whimpered around his cock as you removed your hands.
Minho sighed and looked up to the ceiling, before looking back down at your fucked out face. “What am I going to do with you?” He asked himself.
He pulled out of your mouth and climbed off you. Your eyes widened. “No… please! Minho… I can be good… I wanna be good… please… need you..”
Minho simply ignored you and moved around behind your head to drag you so your head was hanging off the edge of the couch arm. Then he disappeared momentarily, returning with a soft belt from a bath robe.
“Little boys that misbehave must be punished. Don’t you think?” He said tying your hands together, then moving back to wear your head hung.
“Open wide little cockslut.” He said in the most condescending tone you’d ever heard. Of course you obliged, opening as wide as you could.
You knew he wasn’t going to be gentle. His cock pushed past your tongue and deep into your throat, until he was all the way in. The more you struggled and the more you gagged, the harder his cock became, and the further down your throat he forced himself.
“This is what you wanted isn’t it? You wanted to choke on it.” He growled as your lips pressed against his pelvis. “I’m gonna be real nice and give you exactly what you want. I’m gonna make you fuckin’ choke.” His hand came to your throat and pressed around where his cock was stretching you open.
“Fuck…so tight…shit…fuck.” He hissed, slamming himself into you brutally.
You had no choice but to gladly take it.
“So fucking pathetic, with your leaking cock. Bet you’re gonna cum untouched… so desperate… so fucking pathetic.”
You whimpered, moaned, thrashed around as Minho held your head in place with his cock and his hands. “That’s it. Take it like the desperate little cockslut you are.”
Your neglected cock was well and truly leaking, tears were streaming from your eyes, and your mouth was dribbling messily. Yet you needed more.
You needed Minho’s cum. You wanted him to completely fucking ruin you. Just the thought of tasting his cum had you on the edge of your own orgasm, and your demise came when you opened your eyes to get the perfect view of Minho’s ass. Your cries were muffled as the coil inside you snapped and you felt ropes of your own cum land on your stomach as your orgasm hit you like a tsunami.
“So pathetic.” Grunted Minho when he saw you make a mess on yourself, then he was filling you up. “Drink it up… That’s it… Like a good little cockslut.” He panted as spurts of cum hit the back of your throat, then he pulled out to paint your face with the reminder of his seed.
“Fuck!” He growled throwing his head back as he allowed himself to calm down.
You tried to catch your breath whilst trying to desperately lick as much cum from around your face as possible. You didn’t want to waste a drop.
Minho began to redress, raking his eyes over you as he pulled his sweats up. You thought he was going to just leave you there, naked and used. If you were honest with yourself you were thrilled with that thought.
Unexpectedly, Minho knelt beside you with a towel, wiping you up and untying you.
Then he did something more unexpected.
He took you in a deep kiss.
…..
@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @weareapackofstrays @kangnina @3rachasdomesticbanana @palindrome969 @xxkissesforchanniexx @chuuchuu1224
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avalencias · 8 months
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In the midst of the flow of people that had smudged together in a blur of threatening color, was a woman. She looked almost like a black-and-white photograph, stock still, calm, nearly monochrome, and blinking slowly at Imogen, with a slight considering tilt to her head.
in true form, I couldn’t help myself. thanks to @dadrielle for the fic/update bc ya girl is sooooo in it rn
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romantichomicide95 · 11 months
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Gojo x Reader
No nut November
Summary: Gojo tries to participate in no nut November but his girlfriend has other plans.
Warnings: Pure smut. Minors DNI. 18+ Posting twice so it has its own post for it as well.
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“Baby, please go sit over there.” Gojo begs. You were both sitting on the couch in his apartment, having your weekly date night/movie night. You were sitting shoulder to shoulder until your boyfriend practically whines at you to move.
“You’re distracting me baby. You look way to sexy tonight. You’re killing me. Why are dressed so fucking hot on movie night anyway. Fuck.”
See your boyfriend, Satoru Gojo, the cocky, overconfident(maybe earned confidence) man he was thought he would try the No Nut November challenge. Something he probably saw scrolling online, something so many men try to accomplish. You thought it was quite silly, sex was good…it was healthy, but he insisted he could do it. “I can do anything. I’m Satoru Gojo. I’m the best at everything. Anything I put my mind to I can do perfectly.” Okay, maybe he didn’t quite say it like that…but that’s certainly how it sounded.
Unfortunately for you though, that meant no sex. No nothing really, he said he couldn’t touch you sexually or he’d give in. He’d kiss you, but that was it. No fingering, no eating you out. Just kissing. What were you? Teenagers? All you’ve done the past 2 weeks is makeout. You were aching…and you knew he was too. So tonight you put on your shortest skirt, you’re cute little lacy panties, no bra and a shirt that was just a little bit low. Nipples visible through the fabric, just enough for him to want more.
“Toru seriously? I’m not doing anything.” That was a lie. You wanted him, you were aching to feel the way his cock slammed into your pussy, the way his tongue flicked on your clit, the way he grabbed your ass rocking your hips back and forth whenever you sat on his cock. Sex with Gojo was fantastic, and you’d been without for too long. So here you were, doing the opposite of nothing, trying to turn him on. Sure you were only sitting shoulder to shoulder, but the way you were slyly reaching over him to grab popcorn making sure he got a good view of your tits; or the way you were holding his hand and carefully placed it right at the sweet spot between your thigh and your cunt. He was right, you were distracting him.
He pauses the movie and full turns to you. His blue eyes piercing through you, sometimes you thought his six eyes could read your thoughts by the way they bore into your soul. “Not doing anything my ass. Please angel, you’re tempting me. I’m trying to do a challenge remember?” He gives you his best attempt at a puppy dog face.
“Yes Satoru. I remember.” you say rolling your eyes, your hand makes it’s way to his thigh, hovering right over the fabric of his sweatpants, inching closer and closer to where his cock rests. “I’m not doing anything, we’re just watching a movie.” you say innocently blinking your eyelashes at him as your hand finally rest directing on his cock through the fabric.
“First of all its Toru or baby, or sweetheart, or my handsome hunk to you. Second of all what do you call this than?” he says motioning to where your hand lay still.
“Okay TORU, and I’m literally just sitting here baby. Whatever do you mean.” You still play innocent as you start to rub his cock over the fabric of his pants.
“Baby, come on. You’re being such a fucking tease….fuck. Go sit over there you’re killing me here.” He whines, though he hasn’t moved an inch. He’s much taller than you, much stronger yet he hasn’t removed your hand from his growing erection.
“Oh, I’m sorry baby. You want me to sit somewhere else?.” You climb over him, lifting your skirt and placing yourself on him, face to face, one leg on either side. You start to pepper his neck with kisses, blowing softly into his ear.
“Fuckkk Y/N.” Is all he can breathe out. He throws his head back, all the pent up energy inside him wants to come out, it’s begging. Your lips make their way to his, and he kisses you hungrily, chasing your lips when you break away.
“We can still kiss Toru… that’s what you said.” You start grinding your hips onto his lap, feeling his erection between your legs. The heat coming from you is almost too much to bare. The way his hard cock feels against your panties causes a light moan. Your pussy aches to feel him, any part of him.
“This isn’t just kissing love. God you’re such a fucking tease baby.” He’s grinding himself into you, his big hands grasping firmly at your hips. You lift your shirt over your head and watch as his focus falls to your tits, wanting to taste them. Feel them.
You slow the rhythm of your grinding even further. Making his cock twitch. “Yeah baby, do you want me to stop? I’m so wet for you Toru, I want you so bad.” you whisper seductively in his ear, moving just enough to pull his pants off, which he doesn’t stop, taking your place back on his lap. “I need you Toru.” You inch back so he has a full view of your body, his hands still firmly grasping your hips. Cock rock solid. He’s taking you in, drunk off your words. His cock is throbbing at every whisper in his ear, watching the sight of you sitting so pretty on his lap, begging for him. You slide two of your fingers into your panties, letting out a small moan as you rub your aching clit. “Baby you really gunna make me fuck myself?”
“Fuuuuck. I can’t with you. Is this what you want?” He rips your underwear off you, literally rips them in half rubbing the tip of his cock against your slit. Teasing you with the feeling. He kisses your lips, breaking free to whisper in your ear “God you drive me crazy, little slut, tell me how bad you want me again.”
“Toru need it, I n-need you inside me.”
“Yeah? Fuck, is this what you wanted princess?” he asks as he pumps his hips up, shoving his cock inside you watching the way your tits bounce as you ride his fat cock.
“Y-yes Toru. Missed this.” you moan into his ear. Bouncing up and down, grinding yourself in his lap. Feeling how good his cock fills you up, the way he moves his hips in rhythm with yours. “God Toru you feel so good, don’t s-stop.” You moan, throwing your head back in ecstasy as his mouth makes its way to your tits, taking one on his mouth sucking your hard nipple. His hands so firm on your ass you’re sure they’ll leave marks.
He flips you over, so effortlessly until he’s right above you, you pull his shirt over his head running one hand down his chest as he lifts your legs up over his shoulder. Fucking you deep, causing whimpers out of your mouth. Your nails dig into his back as he pumps faster and faster. One hand furiously massaging your clit.
He shoves his fingers in your mouth, gagging you. “You like the way you taste sweetheart?” he says before grabbing your neck, slightly squeezing as he pounds into you.
You feel small tears brimming at your eyelashes, whimpers still escaping your lips. He’s fucking you so hard, it feels intoxicating. You’re drunk off the way he feels against your walls.
“You wanted this so bad, fucked my challenge all up. Now your taking me so well, god your so tight. Fuck.” His lips make there way down your body, leaving a trail of bite marks and sloppy kisses.
“I’m gun-gunna c-cum Toru.” you moan as you reach climax, loadly moaning as you cover his cock in your slick juices. He watches as your eyes roll to the back of your head, back arching, head thrown back. “Fuck you’re so sexy, you take my dick so well.” He says before pulling out and shoving it in your mouth. “Do you like the way you taste princess?” he asks as he fucks your face, your tongue running circles around his cock. Gagging slightly. One hand jacking what you can’t fit in your mouth.
“Mhhmmm” you manage to mumble.
“Shit. Ooo I’m cumming, take it all. Swallow it.” he demands, his eyes focused on the way you suck at the tip, drinking every drop, tongue swirling delicately around it.
He collapses on your chest, both your naked bodies entangled together. Heavy breathing and tiny kisses to your chest and your neck. Body numb, pussy feeling raw.
After a moment of you two just being. You both get up to replace your clothing. “Fuck. There goes no nut November.” Gojo says with a laugh, still out of breathe, pulling his sweatpants back on and motioning for you to lay on his lap.
“I’m not even sorry.” you say with a smirk. “Now let’s finish our movie yeah?”
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nereidprinc3ss · 4 months
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relax
in which spencer helps university student reader de-stress after a particularly exhausting assignment
18+ (smut) warnings: fingering, overstimulation, happy crying, lowkey softdom spencer, slight d/s dynamics, reader is referred to as a girl, ????idk i've never had to tag for smut before lols wc: 2624 a/n: been doing some insane literary cooking. lots of smut AND more fluff in the works (all uni reader... lol... ). idk if i love this but again need to fucking get it out of my word doc so here u go, PLEASE lmk if you like it!!
You don’t even realize the room has gone completely dark until Spencer comes in the front door and flicks on the light. 
“Why did you do that?” you snap immediately, looking up from your laptop screen for the first time in potentially hours, blinking hard as your eyes painfully adjust. Your boyfriend gives you an odd look. 
“Hello to you too...” 
“I’m sorry. Hi. How was dinner?” 
“It was good,” he says, crossing the room to the couch that has been your entire world for the past five hours. You sigh, releasing some of the tension in your shoulders when he leans down to kiss your head and set down a to-go box on the coffee table. “Have you moved since I left?” 
“...no,” you admit, moving your eyes dejectedly to the keyboard.  
“You made progress,” he appeases, leaning over you to angle the laptop upward. Immediately you wrench it away, holding it protectively against your chest. 
“Stop! I don’t want you to read it yet!” 
“I could help you with it though,” he pleads, bracing a hand on the arm of the couch. You look up into his hazel eyes, where he’s definitely playing up the puppy dog factor. His tie brushes your stomach, and he smells like lavender and clove and-- 
“You need to go away,” you realize, snapping back to reality and shrinking into the couch, away from him—trying to escape his all-encompassing sensory presence.  
“Wh- I just got back!” he scoffs, straightening. 
“You’re distracting me,” you accuse, throwing him a baleful look. 
“I’m literally offering to help you.” 
“And I’m respectfully declining because I care too much about your opinion to show you this essay until it’s less terrible. I really just need a couple more hours to finish it, please?” 
Spencer sighs, regarding your pitiful state before moving to sit down next to you. Automatically you move your legs out of the way before settling them in his lap and damn it he’s supposed to be going away. Your iron grip on the laptop involuntarily loosens a little as his hands begin to run back and forth over your legs. No—you must stay focused.  
“Spencer,” you whine, flopping your head back. You let the implied complaint hang in the air. 
“You’ve been writing all day. Your brain is exhausted, and your synapses aren’t firing at a rate that is intellectually productive.” 
“What is the point of having a brain if I can’t even use it half the time!” you almost-shout, pressing the palms of your hands into your eyes until you see fireworks.  
The couch shifts and you feel the warm, robotic weight of the laptop unpin you as Spencer lifts it from your lap. “Don’t read it,” you beg, watching through parted fingers as he sets it on the coffee table, and relaxing slightly when he settles back into the couch.  
“Come here,” he says, holding out an arm. Too mentally exhausted to do anything but comply, you pull yourself up just enough to fall into him. Immediately he wraps his arms around you, one hand slipping under your shirt to rub your back in hypnotizing passes. “I think you burnt yourself out,” he mutters. 
You nod into his shoulder, surrendering yourself to his warmth, letting yourself sink into a lavender-clove fog, wanting nothing more than to dissolve into it. The darkness behind your eyes glows an inviting amber, threatening to pull you under...  
But the essay... 
“Stop thinking about the essay,” he demands. 
“But I have so much to do,” you sigh against his jacket, the words coming out muffled. 
“The best thing you can do now is give your brain a rest. I promise you you’re not making that paper any better if you’re exhausted.” 
“I am not exhausted,” you insist, although your eyes are still closed, “I’m just really stressed.”  
Spencer hums, continuing to rub your back.  
“Do you need me to help you relax?” he says innocently. 
Oh? 
One of your eyes opens to peer up at him suspiciously. He sweeps some of your hair out of your face. 
“Because I would be happy to.” A moment passes—him looking down at you fondly; you wondering if you’re picking up what he’s putting down. 
“And how would you go about doing that?” you ask suspiciously. 
“Orgasms reduce tension and stress and improve brain function.” 
Damn. Why did the nerdiest, most un-sexy pickup line ever just turn you on?
You groan, burying your face further into his shirt—mostly to hide any trace of a blush. 
“You know what else would reduce stress and improve brain functioning? Taking an Adderall and finishing my fucking essay.”  
“Angel, you're such a smart girl, and you are fully capable of doing whatever you set your mind to—but I will lock your laptop in my gun safe before I let you look at that essay again tonight.” He speaks so softly, and his fingers are still gently combing through your messy hair... all in all, you put up a good fight, right? Maybe you should just listen to him...
“... fine.” you say eventually, reluctant to give in too quickly even though the idea quickly has filled your stomach with butterflies. 
“Fine?” he says, pausing his motions as you turn your head just enough to look up at him. “Sounds like you don’t really want it, baby. Maybe we should just go to sleep. Or I could take you back to your-” 
“Spence,” you whine, gently grabbing the front of his shirt. Now he’s going to make you beg? As if it wasn’t his idea? Those puppy dog eyes of his are deceiving. 
“You’re gonna have to do better than that,” he sighs, hand moving from your hair to your outer thigh. 
“Please?” you whisper, dignity forgotten as you look up at him imploringly. 
“Lean back, sweet girl,” he says, helping you adjust your position til you’re lying against his chest, legs sprawled across the couch. Your head lolls on his shoulder, intoxicated by his close proximity. “Perfect. Such a good listener.” 
Normally, you’d be quick to make a defensive remark, but with the way he’s slowly hiking your shirt up, running his hands over your sides so lightly it gives you goosebumps—you're really in no position to argue. Your eyes flutter shut as his hands grow bolder in their explorations, crossing your stomach, fingers just slipping under the waistband of your shorts and skimming over your hipbones before coming back up. 
“Does that feel good?” he murmurs, and you nod lazily, apparently losing access to your language facilities after running them dry all day. Unfortunately, that doesn’t seem good enough for your boyfriend. “Do you remember when the last time I touched you like this was?” 
Through the hazy blur of your exhaustion, you try to think back. Was it... two days ago? Three? More? 
“Almost a week ago,” he supplies the answer for you when you take too long. What? That can’t be right. 
But when you think about it harder... it is right. It was right before finals week started.  
An errant hand straying up your torso distracts you. “Do you remember what I did?” 
You flush. 
“You... yeah,” is the best you can offer, too flustered to say exactly what he did to your body. That stray hand moves over your breast. Your back arches just slightly at the stimulation through the thin fabric of your bra.  
Thankfully, he lets you off the hook.  
“I made you cum three times, right?” 
“Mhm,” you hum through closed lips, tense with anticipation as he finally slides both hands down to your shorts and wordlessly directs you to lift your hips so he can pull them all the way off along with your underwear. 
“You’ve been so busy lately, huh. Working so hard.” 
You unconsciously drop your bent legs open, brain too foggy to be insecure about how utterly bare you are—allowing him to slowly rub up and down your inner thigh. 
“I’m gonna make you feel good, honey. I don’t think three times was enough for such a stressful week.” 
You gasp when his fingers finally brush your clit, whimpering slightly when they just barely skim your entrance before tracing the wetness back up.  
“Give me your hand,” Spencer says, taking his own from between your legs and holding it up. You don’t even think about it, releasing your grip on the arm he now has wrapped around you and holding it out for him. At this point, you’d do anything he tells you to without hesitation.  
He takes the proffered hand, gently guiding it back between your legs. Your fingers meet slick, soft warmth. “Do you feel how wet you are?” 
“Yeah,” you breathe, seeing how your fingers glisten when you pull them away. His remain, running slowly up and down your clit. Your brain seems to be vibrating in your skull as warmth spreads throughout your body. 
“Who’s that for?” 
“You, Spencer,” you whimper. He hums in approval before the room falls into silence as you both watch his teasing intently, your breath baited as you try to be patient. But your body isn’t with the program, you keep twisting slightly, your hips cant upward. “Please, please,” the words escape on a held exhalation as you finally break, arching your back against him as your search for more friction.  
Without warning, he sinks two fingers inside you. The slight stretch after not having taken anything in a week scratches an itch you didn’t even know you had, and you let out a broken moan. 
“I know, honey. You’re so good, I know.” Spencer kisses your head as he speaks over your cry, barely moving his fingers for a few moments while you get comfortable. 
Still you’re not ready for it when he withdraws and pushes back in. 
“Look at that,” he breathes. 
“Oh, fuck,” you choke, watching how your arousal completely coats his fingers as he slowly, slowly begins to fuck you with them. 
Again you feel the vibrations in his chest as he laughs slightly—probably at your earlier insistence that you didn’t desperately want this. The laughter fades as you both become entranced by the sight of his fingers disappearing into you, and your stomach twists with pleasure. His pace remains languid, and he seems to delight in the filthy, wet sounds his hand is producing between your legs.  
“You okay, baby?” he asks after a moment, seemingly snapping out of some trance. 
“Uh huh,” you whimper. One particular drag of his fingers at just the right angle has you dizzy, and then he’s speeding up. Your jaw drops at the change in pace and your hips chase his hand, wanting even more. 
“So pretty,” he mutters as his other hand moves to spread you open.  
You attempt to shut your legs around his wrist, but instead he just ruts his fingers deeper into you, palm pressed against your clit. You attempt to twist away from the extreme stimulation, but he doesn’t allow it. 
“Too much,” you squeak, bucking your hips inadvertently. 
“No it’s not,” he states, like you’re talking about the weather. 
“Spencer, I really c- ah- can't!” 
“It feels like a lot, huh?” he asks soothingly, not letting up one bit. 
“Yes!” you cry, eyes stinging as tears begin to well. 
“You’re okay, angel. It’s just been a while.” 
You are so completely fucked. Each stroke of his hand feels like an electric jolt through your whole body. It is too much, but at the same time, pleasure is pooling deep in your stomach and at the base of your spine and you never want him to stop. You throw your head back onto Spencer’s shoulder, eyes screwed shut.  
“Relax,” he mutters, carefully bearing down the pressure across your waist with his arm to try and keep you from squirming. 
A rhythmic whine breaks through the barrier of your sealed lips as you focus all your energy into taking it, when the all-consuming need to kiss him hits you. You twist your neck to look up at him, observing the furrow of his brow and the way he’s tucked his bottom lip into a bite. Thankfully he notices your movement—his eyes dart from your own half-lidded gaze to your lips and he understands what you want. 
The kiss is messy and the angle is awkward and you’re moaning into his mouth half the time anyway, but it feels so good to have his lips moving on yours that you don’t care about any of it.  
“I—ah,” you cry into him, unable to form a coherent thought as your stomach drops like you’re mounting the peak of a roller coaster. 
His fingers again change their angle and he finds the spot inside you that makes your legs spasm. Attempting to hold in whatever noises you were making is now futile—the whimpers and pants turn to full-fledged keening moans interspersed with taut silences as you fail to breathe properly.  
Your wrench your gaze and lips away from Spencer to watch through a blurry haze the rapid movement of his hand between your bare legs, the way your hips buck and twist and the way your leg bends as he hooks his free hand under your knee and hoists it toward your chest. 
“You’re doing so well, honey. Being so good for me.” 
Moisture spills over from your eyes, tracing down your cheeks and down your neck as you begin to come with no warning and a desperate, broken cry. 
A string of praise from Spencer underscores your pleading moans, but you can’t focus on anything other than the buzzing warmth emanating from your core, the bright, pulsing white that blinds you and the feeling of stardust flowing through your veins. 
Your boyfriend continues pumping his fingers slowly in and out of you for a blissful few moments, before sensing the tail-end of your orgasm and bringing his fingers up to rub lazy circles over your clit. Aftershocks resonate from the hypersensitive area and make you clamp your legs shut around his hand as your toes curl and you attempt to squirm out of his grip. 
“Done! I’m done,” you squeak, rocking your hips back and forth to try and escape his toying. 
“Okay, okay,” he soothes, relieving the pressure of his hand between your legs and moving it to run over your stomach as you come down. 
You lie in silence for a minute, enjoying the liquid sensation weighing down your muscles and basking in the warm afterglow of your orgasm.  
“Shit,” you breathe shakily after a moment. Spencer chuckles. You manage to turn yourself over, laying your cheek on his shoulder and slipping your arms under his waist. He looks down at you as he moves on to massaging your back and bare hips, eyes full of warm adoration.  
“Feel better?” 
You hum an affirmation, wiping your eyes on his shirt. 
“Oh, honey, did I make you cry?” 
You laugh into his chest and nod, a few stray tears leaking from your shut eyes. “It’s okay. Not sad tears.” 
“What kind of tears?” 
“Orgasm tears,” you mumble, a tidal wave of exhaustion you’d been fighting all day finally washing over you. 
“That makes sense. Orgasms can be cathartic or even therapeutic depending on your head space. Major losses and life changes are often associated with sexual dysfunction but the opposite is actually just as if not more common. A spike in libido can—” 
Spencer pauses, looking down to see that you’re either asleep or close to it, and smiles to himself. You’ll probably be mad about it when you wake up, but he had to get you to stop thinking about that paper somehow. 
2K notes · View notes
theragethatisdesire · 11 months
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pretty girl - jean kirschtein x afab!reader - 18+!!!
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there's def more eren coming but while that's in the works please enjoy the result of the jean brainrot i experienced the other day. fair warning- it's going to get pretty rough, but that's what you asked him for ;)
pairing: reader x jean kirschtein
wc: 4.6k
DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.
CWs: smut, consensual hook-up, established relationship (jean's ur gorgeous bf lucky u), unprotected sex, oral sex (male receiving), face fucking, pretty rough sex, vaginal fingering, biting, dirty talk, penetrative vaginal sex, swearing, daddy kink, use of names (pretty girl, crybaby, good girl), very dom jean, multiple orgasm, dacryphilia/crying, creampie
this one was super fun and is very tasty u guys enjoy <3
-
-> be there in 5 babe :)
You are not looking forward to this, to say the least. You pace madly around your little apartment in a massive t-shirt and sweatpants covering the skimpiest lingerie set you own. It’s got all the bells and whistles: a matching garter belt, lace in all the right places, stockings that come up to where your plush thighs are the fattest. You should be looking forward to this, you tell yourself, candles lit and ambient lighting ready to go. You have a gorgeous boyfriend who’s going to “be here in five”, and you should be brimming with excitement. But…you’re just not.
Jean’s been in your life for a few months now. What had started as a run-in at the coffee shop around the corner had turned into candlelit dinners, movie marathons, and exclusive titles, and you adore him. His sandy brown hair, the tattoo on his strong bicep, pretty hazel eyes– Jean’s sexy, loving, sarcastic, attentive, literally everything you could ask for in a boyfriend. Except when it comes to your sex life, that is.
The sex isn’t bad per se, you just can’t shake the feeling that he’s holding something back from you. He’s almost too perfect; he’s gentle with you, always taking care to ask permission before touching you, chaste kisses as he slides in, hand-holding in missionary. He cums every time, immune to the whiskey-dick you’d expect from his bourbon drinking habit, so you know he’s enjoying himself, but he doesn’t always seem all there. The fire just isn’t in him, and you know he has that side to him. You’ve seen those hazel eyes you love so much blaze, in a heated argument, at the gym. Why it doesn’t happen in your intimate moments is beyond you, it’s like he’s afraid to break you, like he’s not doing everything–
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Shit, knocking on your front door is what he’s doing.
You take one last look in the mirror: hair’s casual, but still sexy, makeup to a minimum, all straps and lace covered up by your inconspicuous pajamas. Time to potentially ruin your relationship.
“Hey beautiful,” Jean greets you with an innocent smile, “you look cozy.”
“Feel cozy,” you accept his kiss, chewing on your lip as he comes in. Your heart’s pounding in your ears; poor thing has no idea what’s to come. Maybe it’ll go well, you think; false hope might be the only thing that gets you to pull through with your plan.
“Have any movie ideas for tonight? I was thinking Hereditary, but only if you’re not too chicken…” Jean raises his eyebrows, a taunting smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. Ha! If only he knew all of the things you aren’t “too chicken” for.
You smile weakly, stomach churning. “Maybe. Can we just…can we just talk for a sec?”
Jean’s playful demeanor drops instantly, replaced by a faint frown. “What about?”
You amble over to the couch, playing with the strings of your sweatpants anxiously. How the fuck are you even supposed to bring this up? Your mind’s racing so quickly it draws a blank, and before you can stop yourself, you blurt: “Sex.”
“Sex?” Jean’s cheeks tinge pink. He hasn’t shaved in probably a week, a shadow covering his sharp jawline. God, he’s gorgeous, you can’t mess this up, you really can’t.
“Yeah,” you confirm, “sex. Our sex, to be clear.”
“I figured as much,” Jean’s sat himself beside you now, one eyebrow raised suspiciously. He’s not upset, not yet, but you’ve definitely caught him off guard.
“I– I feel like we’re on different pages,” you stammer– fuck you are so bad at this, “I just feel like sometimes you’re so…gentle, and you don’t necessarily, like, have to be?”
Jean’s frowning full on now, a precious little wrinkle appearing in the center of his forehead. You’ve hurt him, and your heart sinks. Probably should have started with the pros. “Like…what do you mean, by ‘don’t have to be gentle’?”
“Our sex life is great,” you try to smile enthusiastically, as if you don’t actually want to blow your brains out right now, “please don’t think I’m saying you’re bad in bed or anything. I just, like– okay, for example, have you ever tried anything rough?”
His mouth is a flat line. “Like what?”
“Like, handcuffs, or roleplay, any of that stuff.”
“What have you tried?” His voice is even, collected, but there’s something simmering in him that you can’t put your finger on. It’s not anger, but it tastes similar, running in the same vein but not quite there. It’s your turn to feel your face warm.
“I mean, I’ve tried handcuffs before. Some light slapping, spanking.” You’re twiddling your thumbs, confessing into your lap. You can feel his eyes on you.
“That it?”
“I guess.”
“Did you…enjoy that kind of stuff?” He’s taking the bait. You finally meet his gaze and it ignites a little fire in your stomach; he’s never looked at you this intensely, brows pinched together like you’re a puzzle he’s trying to figure out. All of these little mannerisms are tells, you’re intuitive enough to know that, but exactly what he’s trying to convey you just can’t figure out.
“Yeah.”
“How rough are we talking, here?” Jean sounds deeper than normal, the slightest bit of strain to his words. That’s definitely new; Jean’s the most unshakeable person you’ve ever met.
“If I’m making you uncomfortable, I–”
“You’re not making me uncomfortable,” an easy chuckle floats out of his mouth, “just trying to feel you out is all.”
Your brows furrow. “Feel me out?”
“Yeah,” he shrugs, “I’m surprised, that’s all.”
“Surprised?” Your nose wrinkles. “Did I ever give off the impression that I was, like, super vanilla or something?”
“No,” he laughs again, a bit of the tension melting from the room, “no, not that. We’re just still pretty new, that’s all. Wasn’t going to whip out everything in my toolbox ‘til I knew you were okay with it.”
That piques your interest; you think you’d very much like to see what’s in this toolbox of his. “So you do like some of this stuff?”
Jean rolls that thought over in his mind for a beat before responding, a suspicious smirk that you can’t read tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, I guess you could say I like some of this stuff.”
“We’re back to my original question then: what do you like?”
“I’m more worried about what you like,” Jean says, “especially since you won’t come right out and say it. Gonna make me guess?”
That’s your Jean, blunt as ever. The fire in your stomach sparks and spits at the conversation, teasing and tempting. There’s something playful to his words; you can’t shake this feeling that you’re missing something, that he’s toying with you, but you like it. You let him keep pushing, see where he’s leading you. “Sure, guess.”
“Do you like…” Jean trails off, examining you with his chin nestled between his thumb and index finger, ���to be dominant?”
“No.”
“Submissive, then.”
“Yeah.” He likes that, you can tell by the way his eyes glint at you. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip.
“Like to be tied up?”
“Already told you about the handcuffs.”
“I bet you have a praise kink.”
That has you flustered. There’s a sinking sensation in your stomach that you’ve underestimated him, waded out too deep into the water, but fuck it, you’re already here. “How’d you know?”
Jean smiles, pleased. “I just do. Overstimulation?”
“Sure.”
“Orgasm denial? Degradation?”
“If I deserve it.” It’s a bold answer, but it makes Jean suck in a sharp “fuck” between his teeth. Oh yes, you’ve definitely underestimated him.
“You like to be punished, don’t you?” His hand has traveled up to cup your jaw, thumb playing absentmindedly with your bottom lip. There’s an anticipatory warmth gathering between your legs, and the air between you both is practically crackling, charged by the tension thrumming through both of your bodies.
“Yes,” it comes out in a breath, almost pathetic, but you can’t help yourself. He looks so good, always does, and now he’s grazing his eyes over you like he wants to take a bite.
“You know how safewords work?” You nod a bit too eagerly. “Ours is going to be red, okay?”
“Okay,” you’re agreeing, but you aren’t entirely sure what to, caught up in the soft rubbing of his thumb over your mouth.
“If your mouth is,” a deep breath shakes through his frame, “occupied, give me a sharp pinch with your nails.”
“I can do that,” the tension between you is palpable now, the room’s so hot that you’re surprised your wallpaper isn’t peeling off.
“Go to your room,” Jean releases you, eyes dark and hungry, “take your clothes off and wait for me on the bed. I’ll be in soon.”
You follow his instructions without thinking twice, as if a switch has flipped in your brain. Maybe it was his tone, an authoritative way of speaking that threatens consequence, or maybe you’re just so ready to see what this perfect boyfriend of yours has been hiding all this time. As you’re getting undressed, you realize he still doesn't know about your lingerie. You bite back a smile, kneeling on the bed. This is going to be so good.
A minute or so ticks by slowly, and just when your legs are starting to ache, Jean’s entering your room. His face darkens in a way you’ve never seen before when he sees your little get up; lightning shoots through your core.
“Put on a pretty outfit just for me?”
“Mhm,” you hum.
“That’s good,” he says in that slow drawl of his, “good girl.”
He’s only testing the waters, but you can feel your body viscerally react to the little pet name, shifting on your knees to mask your desperate attempt for friction, dampness spreading in your panties. Jean sees right through your act, smirking.
Jean joins you in undressing, slipping his shirt over his head. You take your time admiring his torso; miles of long, lean muscle, little ripples by his ribs trailing into a ridiculous six-pack. Jean’s a confessed gym rat, and it shows in every little line along his body. You have to blink and look away before you start salivating.
“Ah, ah, ah,” Jean scolds, tilting your head up towards him, “eyes on me, got it?”
“Got it,” you answer. Jean frowns.
“That’s not very nice,” he says, “try again.”
You go out on a limb. “Yes, sir.”
Jean’s eyes glint again in that mean, pretty way you saw earlier. You did good, you did good for him. “Much better. Get on the floor.”
You slide off of your mattress, practically buzzing with anticipation, settling on your knees in front of him. A low groan rumbles in Jean’s chest.
“Look so good like that, my pretty girl.”
Oh, you really like that, nuzzling against his hand on your head. Jean smiles down at you, inching his pants down until that little thatch of brown hair starts revealing itself. “Open up for me, nice and wide.”
Your jaw’s dropped, mouth open and tongue out, expectant. Jean smiles wider, sharp and dangerous, pulling his cock out for you. He taps the head against your tongue a few times, even slaps you with it, facade faltering for a fraction of a second to gauge your reaction. You’re good for him, sitting still and patient with your mouth still open, a drop of drool starting to slide off the end of your tongue. Jean makes a sound that’s somewhere between a groan and a chuckle.
“Oh, you’re an obedient little thing, aren’t you?” Your panties grow impossibly wetter, you wiggle on your thighs under him, earning yourself another slap of his cock on your tongue, heavy and drooling. “Gonna fuck this pretty face, okay?”
You close your mouth around his head, sucking lightly to show your approval. He’s not even touched you, not so much as a kiss, and your brain’s foggy, running like a hamster on a wheel chasing the circular thought of be good, be good, be good. Jean grabs your hair none-too-gently, tugging it at the roots, and starts canting his hips towards your mouth, muttering under his breath about how good you are, how good your mouth feels on him.
You lower your jaw ever so slightly, and before long, Jean’s picking up speed, knocking your gag reflex here and there and making you cough around him. He doesn’t seem overly concerned; in fact, he grins cruelly down at you when he hits an extra-sensitive spot, making you hunch and gag on him.
“Look at my pretty girl, so happy getting her mouth fucked,” he hisses when you moan around him, feeling the vibrations up his cock. He’s moving faster now, rougher than he’s ever been. You’re gagging with some regularity, tears welling up in your eyes and threatening to spill down your cheeks. You expect him to let up, give you some air, but it only spurs him on, and before you know it, there are thick streams of tears running down your face. Your jaw aches, your knees burn, but you stay, letting him use you how he pleases.
“Fucking crying on me,” Jean growls, “my cock too much for you?”
You try to answer with a shake of your head, but he’s relentless, fingers tightening in your hair and cock shoving to the back of your throat, making you retch.
“No, you love it, don’t you? My little crybaby.”
You’re so wet you can feel it gathering on the insides of your thighs, entirely soaked through your panties. You move your hips subtly, this way and that, desperate for friction. Jean notices, pulling out of your mouth but staying connected by a string of your spit.
“You squirming, pretty girl? Need some attention?”
“Yes, sir,” you rasp, nodding eagerly. Jean helps you up onto the bed, lays you back against his chest facing the mirror on top of your wardrobe. It’s a terribly lewd sight; you spread out in front of him, face swollen and teary, the telltale glisten of wetness glittering on your thighs.
Jean slides a hand down your body, rubbing you over your panties and nibbling at your ear. “You’re gonna watch me make you cum, and if I see you look away, I’m fucking you ‘til I cum, and you’re not getting a damn thing. Got it?”
“Yes, sir,” your voice wobbles pathetically. Jean seems to like it; his cock twitches in interest against your back. He pushes your panties to the side, flicking his fingers faster over your clit. Embarrassingly enough, you’re already nearing your halfway point from the face-fucking, moaning and grinding up into his palm.
“Need something?”
“Mhm,” you grit out, jaw clenched. Jean slaps your pussy; not too hard, but firm enough to make you jolt, bring you a moment of clarity.
“Manners,” he reminds you sharply.
“I’m sorry, I– can I please have a finger?”
Jean’s placated, slides one finger into you and laughs hot against your neck at the obscene sound that tears from your throat. “What do we say when we get what we ask for?”
“Thank you– fuck, thank you,” your words are coming out in puffs of breathe. Jean has long, skilled fingers, a fact you’re already familiar with, but the position he’s put you in has you dripping onto the sheets: forcing you to watch as he pumps in and out of you, grinding into your clit with the heel of his hand. You’ll be lucky if you last another minute.
“Feels good, doesn’t it? My pretty girl likes being full, right?” Jean murmurs, hot against the shell of your ear. “Tell me.”
“Yes, sir, I– I like it, I need– fuck!”
“What do you need?” Jean coos, entertained, as if he’s not unraveling you with just the one.
“I want one m-more finger, please,” you stutter, relieved you’re able to get the words out at all.
“Learning so fast,” Jean kisses your shoulder, granting your wish. His fingers are thick, the slight stretch making you throw your head back against his shoulder, hips rolling into his hand of their own accord. “Still looking?”
You force your head back to its upright position, mindful of the threat in his tone. His fingers work faster at your obedience, curling insistently against the gummy spot inside your walls that makes you see stars, makes you a little out of your mind with need. It’s that out-of-mind dizziness in your head that causes your little slip-up:
“Fuck, please, more- more, Daddy.”
Jean’s fingers still; it’s not until you’re halfway into a whine of disappointment that you realize what you’ve said. Your face burns; you meet his eyes in the mirror, yours shot wide and embarrassed. You trip over your words, trying to explain yourself. That definitely hadn’t been mentioned in your earlier conversation.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to say that, I just–”
“Just what? Already so fucked out you can’t think straight?” Jean curls his fingers pointedly against your walls, punching a groan from your chest.
“Yeah,” you sigh, head growing cloudy again.
“Say it again.” That definitely isn’t what you expect to hear him mutter against your neck. Jean works a third finger into your cunt with some difficulty, stretching you to your limits. “Fucking say it, or you’re not cumming.”
“Oh my God, D-Daddy,” your cries are pathetic, punctuated by whimpers. The bubble in your stomach is about to pop, the tension growing unbearable. You’re almost there, grinding into his hand pitifully and babbling, when Jean takes one of his hands to grab your throat roughly. He holds you captive, staring at your own stretched cunt on display for you in the mirror.
“Good, good girl,” he says, “now watch Daddy make you cum.”
The band inside you snaps viciously; your back arches away from him, and you squirt, gushing all over your bed sheets, inhuman sounds tearing from your throat where you struggle under his hand. Jean’s working you through the whole thing, still steadily pumping his fingers and whispering dirty little nothings into your ear. It finally begins to quiet, overstimulation washing over you. You push urgently at his wrist, mumbling something or other about “too much, too much”.
Jean mercifully obliges, pulling his hand from you with a shameful sucking sound, giving your pussy another light slap.
“Such a good girl for me, yeah? How you feelin’?”
“Good, so good,” you slur, “I’ve never– never…”
“Never squirted?” Jean’s eyebrows shoot up at your answering nod before a smug expression settles over his face. “Such a fun little toy, aren’t you? Just wait, you’ll get used to it soon enough.”
Your cunt clenches around nothing; so he can make you do that? Again? Jean’s slid out from behind you and is repositioning your limp body, dragging you down the bed by your ankles to line you up with his cock. He bends your knees up, pressing them close to your head. Jesus, he’s going to kill you at this rate.
“Want me to fuck you?”
“Please,” you hate the begging lilt to your voice, but you’re beyond fighting it. You gave up the reins a long time ago when you knelt for him, let him call you a good girl, let him fuck your throat.
“I’ve got you, pretty girl, Daddy’s gotcha,” Jean starts bullying his way into your pussy, still tight and pulsing from your orgasm. “Shit, got a tight little cunt, don’t you? Feels so good– fuck.”
You’re simpering under him, barely able to process the stretch of his cock in you. He’s well-endowed and you’re overwhelmed, a dizzying combination for your fucked-out brain to handle. Just when you think he might be in your throat he’s so deep in you, his hips press to the back of your thighs, both of you letting out a long groan at the feeling.
“So pretty,” Jean muses, not moving yet, just placing a thumb on your clit and absentmindedly playing with it, “such a beautiful pussy.”
You whine, frustrated. He glares at you, landing a harsh smack to your inner thigh.
“I’m not going to warn you again.”
“Please fuck me, oh God, please,” you pant, past the point of humility. Jean licks his lips, presses his palms deep into the backs of your knees, practically folding you in half. He gives you what you ask for.
You’re jolted back and forth on the mattress, mouth hung open in a silent scream as he splits you open on him, forces every inch deep into you. His tip’s kissing your cervix, pain blooming in your abdomen, but you don’t even care, so lost in the rhythm of his hips.
“Jean, I– oh my God,” you try to tell him how good he feels, but all you get is a firm hand around your throat.
“Who’s fucking this pretty cunt up, hm? Fucking you good and deep? Who is it?”
“Daddy,” you choke out, breathless, “Daddy’s.”
“There you go,” Jean’s focused on where you’re connected, eyes never leaving the frothy white ring forming around the base of his cock. You’re crying again, vaguely aware of the streams of tears running down your temples, into your hairline, but fuck, he just feels so good your brain can’t even process it. Jean takes notice, wipes one of your tears and licks it off of his thumb. “Cute fucking crybaby, all happy and cockdrunk, aren’t you?”
You whimper some semblance of an agreement, feeling the band of tension in you already getting stretched to a breaking point. He’s at an angle that allows him to hammer into the most delicious spot inside of you, rubbing against it with each thrust.
“Gonna cum soon, I– I’m gonna cum soon,” you manage, locking his gaze.
“Let me feel it, go on, do it for me,” Jean pants, squeezing your neck tighter. The lack of air goes to your head; the room spins until all you can focus on is him pounding into you. You cum violently, throbbing around his cock, thrashing against his strong arms. Jean fucks you through it, never losing his pace. “Good fucking girl, just like that.”
You’re practically wheezing as your senses return to you, clawing at Jean’s arm on your throat. He lets up on your neck, smiling down at you. “Feel good?”
“Mhm,” you hum, blissed out and half-asleep until Jean flips you, forcing you to prop up on your hands and knees. “Wait, Jean–”
“Wait?” Jean scoffs, sliding back into you. You let out a little cry, and he smacks your ass sharply. “This is what you asked for, right? Said I was being too nice to you.”
“I didn’t– oh my god…” your eyes roll back into your head, a well-placed thrust cutting your words off. “It’s so…it’s so much, Jean.”
Jean lands three more sharp slaps to your ass, already thrusting into you at a brutal pace. “What was that?”
“T-too much, Daddy,” you collapse, face shoved into the bed to mask the pitiful cries leaving your mouth. It is too much; if you tuck your chin to your chest, you can see a little bulge in your tummy where he’s fucking into you, another orgasm already building in the pit of your stomach. You feel like you might pass out if he makes you cum again, but he’s ruthless.
“Too much?” Jean coos, fisting your hair to turn your face. He’s glaring down at you. “You were practically begging me for it, and my pretty girl gets what she wants, right? Said you wanted it rough, so you’re going to fucking take it.”
You nod miserably, fat tears rolling down your cheeks. Jean hisses when you clamp down around him. “Squeezing me so goddamn tight, this pussy.”
You feel a hand start thrumming insistently against your clit and nearly shriek; your pussy’s so swollen, so sensitive already. You claw at the bedsheets, feeling something warm and wet swelling inside of you.
“Daddy, I– fuck, it’s, it’s–”
“Gonna make you squirt again,” it’s a promise from behind your ear, “you’re gonna squirt on my cock and Daddy’ll cum for you, okay?”
“I can’t, I–” you’re wailing, words cut off by your own moans. Jean loves it, you can feel his thrusts growing more urgent against your hips, so deep in you you could choke.
“You can,” he corrects you, hand moving faster, “want Daddy to cum in you?”
“Yes, please, p-please,” You cry, letting him use you as he wishes. 
“I’ll give it to you, gotta cum first, you can do that, can’t you? Taking me so well, pretty girl, just need you to cum one more time for me.”
“Uh-huh,” the edges of your vision are starting to close in. He’s ruthless, hips slamming into yours hard enough to bruise, cock stretching you out so nicely, you can’t hold it, but you know, somewhere deep in this primal part of your brain, you need to be good, need to ask him. “Need to cum, Daddy, please– please let me, I–”
“Go ahead,” Jean shushes you, hips moving impossibly faster, “be a good girl, let me feel it.”
That tips you over the edge and Jean makes good on his promise; your cum is dripping out of you, spraying onto his thighs and ruining your sheets. You’re thrashing your head back and forth and sobbing through your orgasm, pinned and powerless under him. Jean swears at the vice-like grip you have on him; it doesn’t take him long to follow suit, pressing himself as deep as he can go, cumming in you. He bends over you as he does, grabbing your jaw and forcing you to him, kissing you hard in a mess of tongue and teeth. You feel it warming your stomach, moaning appreciatively until you both collapse in a sweaty mess of limbs, gasping for breath and clutching onto one another.
Jean allows himself a few moments to catch his breath, and then he’s pulling out of you, leaving you empty and whimpering. He shushes you, holding you close to his chest and letting you work through the intense session in his arms. You’ve never been so fucked out, nuzzling into his chest and simply letting him hold you, letting the aftershocks wrack through your sore body. After a few minutes you’re coming to; the haze begins to lift, and you peek up at him, unsure of where to start after…that.
“You okay?”
You turn the words over in your mouth before you can get them out, still feeling a bit like you’re floating. “Yeah, yeah, I’m okay. That was…wow.”
Jean, the man that just held you down and forced what were probably life-threatening orgasms out of you, blushes. “Yeah, it was really something.”
“Yeah, it was,” you agree, giggling despite yourself. Your mind is still a little cloudy, a little soft after everything. “But it was good. So good.”
“Yeah?” Jean grins, hoisting you up into his lap so you can both sit up, still cradling you to his chest. “Not too gentle, was I?”
Your face grows hot, you want to hide it behind your hands. “No, not too gentle.”
“You were right earlier,” he admits, “I was definitely holding out on you just because the way I like to…I mean, I don’t think I need to get too into it, you were there. It can be a lot. Didn’t want to push you too far.”
You hum contentedly, playing with the little gold chain he always wears. “I understand that now, but I’m a big girl. I can handle whatever you want to give me, promise.”
“Don’t say that,” Jean groans, “too tired for round two.”
Your hand falls into the mess between your thighs, and you wince. “Maybe after a shower?”
“Greedy,” Jean tuts, scooping you up with him to make the journey over to your bathroom, “my greedy, pretty girl.”
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dsybouquet · 5 months
Text
.. so what if u actually texted ceo! ellie ?
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(read how it started here !<3)
you only left the bar after all chairs have been put up the floor was mopped cleanly and all customers have been (more or less) kicked out. your leather jacket covered the short work clothes you wore as you walk through the dark streets.
you for sure were freezing, but your home isn’t all too far. the empty streets where some what soothing. it was peaceful and quiet with only a couple of cars passing by.
when you entered your apartment, you dropped your little bag to the ground and took off your shoes. of course you had a long day ahead at uni and you knew for sure that if you don’t fall asleep right away, you will simply ignore 99% percent of your lectures. why, out of all mayors, did you choose psychology?
quietly, you dropped onto your couch and turned on the tv. with family guy playing in the background, you mindlessly scrolled though your social media accounts - despite you knowing that being sleep deprived will literally be the death of you.
all of the sudden you thoughts started to run. why did that ellie woman have such a chokehold on you? it’s not like you didn’t have plenty of people right on your doorstep. being a young barkeeper already arranged you all types of things and plenty of numbers.
but something about was different. she was so.. different.
or maybe it was just you being delusional about a woman a bit too beautiful. or maybe it was her flirty behaviour that made you nearly lose your mind.
either way she was all you thought about, and you only knew her for a couple of hours. you threw your phone aside covering you face with your hands.
“get a hold on yourself, ______.”
you told yourself. you were so delusional.
ellie was probably just a woman with too much money that went around and tried to be some what kind. but why was she being so.. gentle?
calling you a pretty girl and dear..
god you were losing your mind over her.
your eyes landed on your phone. the bill with her number on still plugged into your see-through case.
maybe you could try your luck..
・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.
“are you kidding me?”
ellie exclaimed when she entered her office the next morning and found one of her managers sitting in front of her.
“jesse, what the fuck?!”
she took off her coat and put it on her hanger.
“calm down.”
jessie tried to help ellie contain her anger, but the young woman was about to snap.
she woke up late, she was still tired, spilled her coffee on her way to her car and was stuck in traffic. and now jesse is trying to tell her that one of his agents fucked up with one of her most important clients? leaked confidential data?
she was not having it.
“calm down ? oh i am calm, jesse.”
ellie pulled a cigarette out of her pockets and light it up. she knew the consequences, the visits with her lawyer. and she knew she had to kick this agent out. slowly, she blew out the smoke of her cigarette.
“action plan, now.”
jesse lifted his hands up in air, trying to defend himself.
“kick h-“
“exactly. i will remove all his accesses. i will call our lawyer and he needs to someone, and i don’t care who but i’d prefer authorities, to check all of his private devices for internal information.”
while she was talking, she unlocked her computer and got onto work. ellie exhaled the smoke of her cigarette and looked at jesse.
the man in front of her sighed. jesse was sad to let this agent go, but after all he will be heavily impacted either way.
“what are you waiting for?”
“aye. see you for a coffee later?”
though ellie was his supervisor, they still were sort of friends.
ellie just scoffed - which in her being stressed language basically meant “yeah. now piss off.” - and waved goodbye before putting herself onto it.
hours and hours passed by, phone calls with her lawyer, phone calls with the client, phone calls with authorities - she was so sick of it by now.
leaning back in her overly comfortable office chair, she turned it to the window. she may be owner of one of the most important business on the market right now, but she’ll never get over the view of her top floor office.
she sighed and took it in, watching the sun slowly set. the buzz off her phone ripped her out of her thought.
a unknown number ? texted her ? did this idiot agent now got a hold of her number and is threatening her ?
ellie was quick with unlocking her phone only to see..
‘hey ! it’s your bartender from yesterday !’
she almost couldn’t believe that you actually texted her. after all she was a complete stranger. but then again - you were a university student working in a kind of run down bar.
anyways, she still remembered your name and saved your contact - and good lord she was quick with texting you back.
and good lord you texted back and forth for long, ellie didn’t notice that the sun was down by now.
she should leave the office and probably go back to her penthouse apartment and get some sleep.
damn it, why did you have to text her that you’re still in your universities library studying for your upcoming exam.
and why did she have the urge to pick you up and take you out for dinner ? what was it about you?
usually, ellie picks easy-to-get girls. a quick one night stand with not a lot of talking, maybe giving them a lift home in her bentley - if she was being nice.
she didn’t even know why she wanted to treat you better.
before ellie knew she was sitting in her white bentley, on her way to pick you up.
and you didn’t even realise she was actually doing it until you saw her. until you saw the woman exiting her beast of a car.
your eyes got so wide when you saw her with that sleek black coat, white turtle neck and black suit pants. she looked so good.
„hello beautiful.“
ellie smilingly said before opening the car door on the passenger side door for you to enter. you hesitated for a second, being kind of overwhelmed to get picked up from university like this.
however, you greeted her back and entered her car.
„getting shy now?“
she joked, starting the engine and pulling out of the study property. her smile was wide when she looked at you.
„no. i‘m just not used to getting picked up with this kind of service.“
ellie smirked. she knew her cars and her money was impressive. after all, it is exactly what most girls are after so she stopped bothering. she had it, so why not make good use of it?
„wanna go grab a coffee? i know a nice cafe around here.“
she suggested, already driving in the direction before you could answer.
obviously you agreed with the idea. spending hours studying and beating up your brain made you deep fried and having coffee with a stunning woman like she is exactly what you need.
her car stopped in front of an overly fancy building. for a second you thought she took you too a designer shop if some sort, but when you glanced out the window it was an actual cafe.
you felt out of place looking at the business men inside. with your hoodie and skirt. basic university fit - comfortable and chill.
ellie looked at you, noticing the slight uneasiness in your body language and look.
"don't worry, you'll be fine, dear."
you exited the car and entered the fancy cafe. chandeliers hanging from the top, covered in golden paint. the walls were painted in a a dark green shade.
it seemed so royal.
apparently ellie was a regular there. the waiter already knew her and greeted her with her name before leading the two of you to a place a bit away from the other people.
"what do you want ?"
she asked after you received the menu. all types of coffees, teas and cakes where listed on it, with prices far beyond your imagination
"a simple cappuccino."
ellie nooded, smiling and passing the order to the waiter, along with ordering a latte for herself.
"don't worry, it's on me."
you smiled and thanked her. when she told you she'd pick you up, you expected everything but not.. this. you'd be happy with getting some takeaway coffee from a local bakery. apparently ellie wasn't.
the coffee came anfd you carried on with you conversation. talking about your interestes, hobbies - everything but not work and uni.
suddenly, her phone rang. it was ellies lawyer.
"excuse me, love. i have to answer this call. i will be right back."
she got up and walked out of the front, looking kind of nervous.
you watched her pass by the window, walking back and forth. her expression changed from anxious and nervous to furious. sipping your coffee, you tried to figure out what was going on but eventually dropped it.
after a while she returned, sitting down again.
"i'm so sorry, but i will have to go back to the office. it's quite urgent."
she emptied her latte and waited for you to finish just as well.
"don't worry, ellie. i get it !"
with an apologising smile, she payed the bill for you two and left the cafe with you by her side.
"may i still drive you home? it'll start to snow soon and i rather have you safe inside before you have to walk and freeze."
a smile painted on your face. to be exact, you weren't used to this kind of princess treatment. but you didn't want to be a burden.
"it's okay, really. i don't want to take more of your time."
"no really, i want to do this."
eventually, you gave in and agreed. the second ellie started the engine, snowflakes started falling from the sky.
„see ? it‘s good than i‘m giving you a lift!“
you quickly typed your adress into her navigation system anf let her drive off. 80s rock music played from her radio as she drove to your home. you enjoyed every second - even tho it was silent between the two of you. both of you enjoyed it.
ellie placed her hand on your thigh and had her other one on her steering wheel. you glanced over. she looked ethereal. her green eyes pierced the snowy streets and her head slowly bopped to the music playing.
a beam of light from the warm streetlights illuminated her face whenever she drove past them and you felt like you‘re in some weird fifty shades of grey fanfiction.
she stopped right in front of your apartment building, glancing over at you.
„i‘m sorry, really.“
„don‘t worry.“
a bright smile was painted onto your face, causing ellies stomach to almost drop. you were such a sunshine on a snowy evening like this. before you could exit your car, she got out, opening the door for you.
„thank you, ma‘am.“
you said and took the hand she help out for you to help you get out. did you need these type of gestures? no, but you certainly enjoyed it. you never were treated this nicely.
she even went to the door with you, watching you unlook it.
„drive safe okay? snowy streets are dangerous.“
the concern in your voice and the worrying look of your eyes almost caused ellie to get a heartattack.
„and thank you. for this afternoon and the coffee, i enjoyed it a lot.“
you added and ellie nodded.
and she did something she never thought she would do - she opened her arms to give you a hug. and you accepted it.
it was a overly long hug and it was so comfortable. you took in her scent, the smell if her very intense and expensive perfume and the warmth of her body.
„i‘ll text you, pretty girl.“
she said, still holding you there. ellie didn’t even want to let go, but eventually had to.
before you went inside, she eyed you again. so pretty even tho you looked tired and wore a normal, casual outfit. you probably were the prettiest girl she ever saw.
„please do. would love to see you again.“
ellie smiled before adding a simple:
„trust me, you will.“
and watching you go inside with a ‚goodbye‘.
and she didn’t know yet that if she would fall for you, she’d fell hard and could never get up again.
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
there we go !! thank you for your endless support on what i suppose is part 1 - which was just a brain rot of mine haha. i hope you enjoyed it!
let me know if you want me to keep this going ! xx
update: here goes part 3!
people asking to be tagged:
@harrysslutsstuff @vwonnie @mikaaj
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shinestarhwaa · 4 months
Text
TRUTH OR DARE || ATEEZ OT8
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Genre: Smut
Pairing: Idol Ateez x fem reader
Word Count: 3.6K
Tags/warnings: OT8 smut, Idol!AU, 9th member!Y/N, orgy, dirty talk, m x m (quite a lot since everyone's just doing everyone so if u don't like it I suggest u don't read it), oral sex, fingering, unprotected sex, anal sex, boobjob, nipple play, masturbation, slight marking, some hairpulling, facefucking, yeosang spits once, fingersucking, handjob, orgasm denial, double penetration, creampie, breeding kink, cumeating, a lot...of...cum, wooyoung has a lot of power even when he bottoms, yeosang has power too
Taglist: @anyamaris @a-soft-hornytiny @whatudowhennooneseesyou @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @pyeonghongrie-main @woosanbby @dreamlesswonder86 @changbinslovelylegs @jonghostie @lovjensoo @1-800-shedevil @glintneon123 @mjyungi @bratty-tingz @staytiny816 @sugarnspice630
ENJOY!
"Aaand it'ssss.... Yeosang! Truth or dare?"
Yeosang whined n sighed, not wanting to play this stupid game in the first place. "Fine, uhm, truth I guess?"
"When's the last time you got laid?" Mingi shouted. "I'm literally beside you, Mingi, please tone it down," Yeosang said as he gave him a dead stare. "Why do you even wanna know?"
"Because we're nosy," Wooyoung chimed in, other members agreeing. "Well I suppose it was last month, when we were in Japan," Yeosang confessed. "I knew it. I knew you hooked up with someone!" You laughed, "I swore I heard a girl in his room."
"Yes, well, let's move on," Yeosang muttered as his cheeks got red. He spun the bottle and it landed on you. "I pick truth!" You said as you took another sip of your wine.
"Who of us would you rather fuck?" San asked you. "H-hey, wasn't Yeosang supposed to ask?" You said defending yourself. "I think Yeosang would want to know too. Who would you rather fuck?"
"San, I don't think-
"Come on, don't you know that we can hear you at night? Or in the shower? In the hotelrooms? When you're all needy, playing with yourself and moaning our names? And what about when you hooked up with that bodyguard and you called out MY name?"
"I-In my defense h-his name was Sangho. So that's really just a shortened version of-" "Y/N, please cut the crap now, we know about your fantasies and I mean, we have them too," Yeosang stated suddenly. The room was silent for a minute until Wooyoung giggled from the corner of the couch.
"What is it now, Woo?" "Well I was just thinking if all of us are having fantasies we could... give in to them...? We're alone right now, no one has to know, right?"
Wooyoung's request made some of the guys blush, but some were definitely turned on, smirking. "Are you suggesting we have an orgy, right here, right now?" Hongjoong asked in disbelief. "Yeah, kinda. You scared?" Wooyoung said with a smirk, sliding his hand over Hongjoong's thigh. "I mean, no... not scared..."
"Well good," Wooyoung said before crashing his lips into a startled Hongjoong, who soon enough started kissing back. Yeosang was seated from across the room and he had his legs spread a little, palming his already halfhard cock through his sweatpants. San followed soon after, his shirt already off.
Mingi sat on your left and decided this was his chance to make the first move on you. He leaned in and instantly you kissed him on his lips. Mingi's lips were overwhelmingly soft, like a pillow.
Yunho, who sat beside you on the right side was suddenly getting handsy as you felt him cupping your breasts from behind. As you were kissing Mingi, Yunho was playing with your bare nipples as you weren't wearing a bra under your sweater right now.
When Mingi noticed Yunho was working on your breasts he couldn't hold back, joining in on your left one. He broke off the kiss and yanked your sweater off your body, revealing your bare tits. The men grunted at the sight and you could feel yourself getting wet from all the attention.
Wooyoung had now pulled Hongjoong half onto his lap, tongues making a mess during the sloppy kiss. Yeosang looked at you and came closer, taking your sweatpants off and admiring your clothed pussy. Your cute, delicate underwear had a big wet patch on it, making him smirk. "Already, hm?"
Yeosang pulled them down and spread your legs, admiring your wet cunt. "Fuck, aren't you a beautiful thing?" Jongho took place beside Yeosang, spreading your legs even more.
You could feel a wetness press against your entrance, and then another, making you gasp loudly. Yeosang and Jongho took turns as they slid their tongues inside your wet hole, tasting your arousal. "Fuck, that's so good," Jongho moaned. Your hips bucked as his nose came in contact with your clit, sparking some sensitivity from you.
"S-sangie, ah~" you groaned as he moaned, pumping his tongue into your pussy, Jongho nibbling on your thigh as he did so. Yunho and Mingi still played with your sensitive nipples, but now as they made out with each other right in front of you.
San and Seonghwa were across from each other, still taken aback from the fact this was actually happening. All they knew was to get naked as soon as humanly possible. They took their cocks in their hands, stroking it as they watched the others.
Wooyoung and Hongjoong were still lost in their make-out, grinding hard-on's against each other. Yunho broke the kiss between him and Mingi and pulled him into his lap to kiss him again. That's when you noticed the lonely San. "San, baby, come closer," you panted out. Yeosang sucked harshly on your clit before plunging his tongue inside you again. Jongho's fingers were quick to find it's way to your sensitive clit, rubbing it quickly.
San scooched over to you. He straddled you hovering over your lap, sitting on his knees, cock rockhard against his toned stomach. You took it into your hand and stroked it slowly. He threw his head back as you sped up gradually, making him moan out your name.
"P-please, please, fuck," he moaned. You moaned along with him as the two between your legs showed no signs of stopping. They played you with their fingers and tongues, switching places and swallowing arousal from each other's tongues every few moments.
"Please what, Sannie?" You said with a smirk, followed by a shriek as you felt two fingers stretch your hole, fucking into you so fast your breath couldn't catch up. "I wanna cum, I want you to make me cum, all over your torso, please, I wanna cum all over," he groaned.
Your hands worked harder and faster and before you knew it he came with a loud moan, spilling his cum all over your chest and stomach. The sight of San bursting right in front of you sent you over the edge, cumming down on Jongho's fingers with a loud cry. "Yes! Fuck!"
Jongho rode out your orgasm and licked off his fingers. In the meantime Wooyoung and Hongjoong had stopped their make-out and gotten naked. Jongho stood up and smirked, getting naked in front of you. His thick member was throbbing and leaking pre-cum. You licked your lips as you watched San push him onto the couch. He must've noticed his dripping length and gotten needy. God, San was being so needy and hot.
San was between Jongho's legs in no time, licking stripes from the base to the tip of his cock. "Hyung," Jongho moaned out. His fingers ran through San's raven locks as he pushed San's head down on himself.
Hongjoong made his way to the eldest, sitting beside him and taking his cock into his hand. He spit on the length and smeared it out, wrist-action literally to die for. Seonghwa threw his head back and moaned, whined.
You got intrigued by what was going on with the eldest two so you decided to get closer. Hwa was moaning as Hongjoong worked his hand up and down his cock, teeth marking his neck. You kisses his neck as well and he whimpered out your name. "Let me finger you, please," Seonghwa moaned. You nodded desperately, wanting nothing more than his beautiful and slender fingers to pump inside your wet pussy.
You spread your legs for him and his hand slid over your crotch, collecting some of your arousal on his fingers. He slid two of them inside you, slowly pumping in and out. The squelching was like music to his ears, and it just turned him on more.
Wooyoung decided to come close and play with you too. He stood in front of you and lowered himself to kiss you passionately, one hand on your cheek and one in your hair, which he pulled pretty roughly, making you moan for him. He found this the perfect opportunity to slid his tongue inside your mouth.
You moaned uncontrollably, barely able to keep kissing Wooyoung when Seonghwa's fingers found your g-spot. "Fuck, you want it there baby? Take it there," Seonghwa grunted. "Yes, Yes right there, keep it right there, harder Seonghwa! Harder!" You moaned out inbetween kisses. Wooyoung pulled away and got himself and Hongjoong naked.
You briefly looked at the tallest two. They were stripping each other as their lips and tongues still collided. You felt yourself clenching around Seonghwa's fingers as you saw their big cocks twitching from arousal. Yeosang sat beside them and watched them, slowly pumping his own cock.
A loud cry was heard from Jongho as he fucked up into San's mouth. The grip in his hair was tight and San was whining and whimpering, sobbing on his cock as he let the maknae use him. His cheeks were hollowed and his eyes were full of tears, rolling back into his head. With a loud moan Jongho came, spurting his cum down San's throat. He panted loudly as Jongho pulled him off his member.
Yeosang got to San's side quickly, forcing his mouth open and spitting in it. "Swallow, come on," he ordered. San did as he was told, nodding as a tear fell down his cheek. "That's a good boy."
Seonghwa was still fucking you with his fingers as Hongjoong was fisting his cock. ''I-I'm getting so close,'' he whined out loud. Hongjoong smirked and let go off his cock, denying his orgasm. ''N-No, why?'' he cried out, his fingers stopping inside you as he panted. Hongjoong pulled Seonghwa's hand away from you and brought it to his own mouth, licking and sucking the arousal from Seonghwa's fingers. You whined and sighed, horniness almost overwhelming.
''Y/N, Get on the carpet,'' Wooyoung ordered. You nodded and did exactly that, feeling the soft carpet on your skin as you laid on your back. ''God, I wanna fuck you so bad, I can't wait any longer,'' he grunted as he pushed his thick member inside of you. You whined as he did so, cunt still so sensitive from all the pleasure the other guys gave you earlier.
''O-Oh my God, Woo, so big!''
Wooyoung smirked as he sensually rolled his hips into you. ''Oh? Babygirl thinks I'm big hm? You like that, big cocks? Bet you can't wait 'til all of us have been inside you. I just had to go first baby.''
''That feels so good! Fuck, harder Youngie!'' you moaned out as Wooyoung picked up his pace. Your legs tangled around Wooyoung's waist, wanting to keep him deep inside you. Suddenly you noticed a shadow over you. Mingi.
Mingi straddled you, his back facing Wooyoung, who was still fucking into you. Before you could ask him what he was doing his hands were all over your breasts. ''Mmh, Mingi,'' you moaned out. ''I fucking love your tits baby,'' he grunted in a low voice, cock twitching lightly. ''Yeah? You fucking love 'em huh?'' ''Fuck, yeah baby I do.''
''Why don't you fuck 'em then?'' Yeosang suddenly suggested, sitting beside you with a bottle of lube in his hand. ''Hmm, that sounds really fucking good. Gimme that lube,'' Mingi smirked. He squirted a nice amount of lube on his cock and ordered Yeosang to spread it out nicely for him.
Mingi grabbed your boobs and squished them together. He slowly rolled his hips forward, his lubed up cock slipping in and out of the gap between your breasts. ''Oh yeah... Fuck,'' Mingi cursed underneath his breath. As Mingi slowly lost him in the pleasure Wooyoung was trying to match his pace as well as staring at his ass. The boys gradually moved faster, the three of you becoming a moaning mess in unison.
Yeosang was stroking his cock as he watched the three of you. He somehow felt a sense of control and power over you as you were just doing anything he told you to. ''Grope her, Woo,'' Yeosang ordered. Wooyoung was quick to obey as he rutted into her at an inhumane pace, hands all over your thighs.
''Fuckin' hell, baby I'm so close, gonna fuck you full,'' he moaned out. After a few more thrusts he came deep inside you, creaming your hole. Just a few seconds after Wooyoung came inside you, Mingi orgasmed as well, spurting his cum all over your chest and the valley between your breasts. The guys rode out their highs before getting off you and panting, recovering from their climaxes.
Yunho didn't waste any time, getting on the floor between your legs, diving his face into your pussy. ''Fuck, I've been waiting for this pussy,'' he grunted as he licked your pussy clean, tasting Wooyoung's cum on his tongue. He kissed all over your body and slowly got to your stomach and chest, licking all the cum off your body. ''O-Oh my God, Yunho,'' you whimpered.
''Gonna fuck you now, gonna let you bounce on my cock. Jongho get the fuck here. We're gonna fuck this little one.'' Jongho nodded and moved towards you. Yunho laid down as he pulled you into his lap. His hands rested on your hips as you guided yourself down onto his dick. You whimpered and squeezed your eyes shut, moaning at the big stretch. You felt Jongho's hot body against your back as he slid into your pussy from behind. You cried out, tears stinging in your eyes.
As the guys gave you time to adjust to their lengths your gaze landed on Wooyoung and San. San laid on top of Wooyoung as his fingers pumped inside him. Holy fuck. ''T-That's it Sannie, right there, you know it, yeah, right there, get me nice and ready for your fat dick, that's it! Y-yes, good fuckin' boy!''
San was so eager to please Wooyoung who laid in front of him. His legs were spread wide for everyone to see as he stroked his own cock slowly. ''Put that cock in me now baby, come on, fuck me,'' he smirked. San nodded desperately and lubed up his length before sliding it inside Wooyoung, who moaned out at the feeling.
''Oh fuck, Woo, you feel so perfect,'' San said as he thrusted into him. He wasted no time to let Wooyoung adjust, roughly fucking into him. They let out little whines and puffs before their moans got louder, San going faster to the point he seemed to have become some kind of sex animal.
You started bouncing on the two cocks filling you up as you kept watching Wooyoung and San fuck. ''Fuck, that's so hot,'' you moaned out. Wooyoung kept spurring San on, dirty-talking him and completely driving him inside until he cried out and came inside him.
That's when Jongho and Yunho both started to fuck into you rapidly. Your mouth fell open, moans spilling out as your eyes rolled back from being fucked into oblivion. You could barely think or hold yourself up anymore as you got railed harder than ever before.
''Look at how fucking shameless you are,'' Yunho grunted, ''you like that huh? You're looking like such a pretty mess for us, letting us use you like a little fucktoy. But you fucking love it don't ya?''
''Fuck, I do, I do, I do!'' you chanted as your nails dug into Yunho's chest. The way they kept pounding their cocks into you and how Jongho panted and moaned into your ear gave you goosebumps and drove you crazy. ''I-I c-can't,'' you muttered, ''I-I'm gonna cum!''
''Cum with us precious, come on, cum on our big cocks, you like that huh? Bet you've been wanting to fuck our big cocks for so long now. Come on baby, come for us and we'll breed the fuck outta you,'' Jongho groaned into your ear. A few more thrusts later you came undone, falling down onto Yunho's chest as your body shook and shivered. The two men came simultaneously, filling your pussy up.
You sighed, content with the way you were so nicely filled. Yunho put you down on the couch where you slowly got down from your high. Then you saw Wooyoung bending San over and pounding into him, muscles flexing so hard it instantly got you wet again. Hongjoong came close to you and kissed your neck. ''You'll be a good girl and suck me off, right?''
''God, yes,'' you gasped and you got on your knees quickly, sitting on the ground between his legs. You wasted no time to wrap your mouth around his length. You licked and sucked, nearly slobbering all over his dick as he pushed your head down with a loud moan of your name. Yeosang got behind you and lubed up his dick a little before sliding into you.
''Fuck you stretch around me so nicely... So easily... They did a nice job fucking you open, didn't they?'' Yeosang smirked, hands roaming your ass. You moaned around Hongjoong's cock at Yeosang's words, bobbing your head up and down eagerly.
''I love how you take every inch of us baby, you take it so well. You must be made to take cock in those pretty little holes of yours,'' Hongjoong smirked. Yeosang started to fuck you back and forth, forcing you down on the elder's cock who warned you he was about to get close soon. You gagged on his cock as Yeosang didn't show any signs of slowing down. Hongjoong quickly pulled out his cock, cumming all over your face.
''Fuck, so pretty like that.''
You moaned and panted loudly, whining out Yeosang's name over and over again. Suddenly he pulled out of your cunt, spinning you around. You were laid down on the floor as he hovered above you, fisting his cock until he came with a low groan, his cum mixing with Hongjoong's.
You were so spent, laying on the soft, fuzzy carpet. You seriously thought you could fall asleep until you realized you hadn't fucked with San and Seonghwa yet. San was still busy getting railed like there's no tomorrow so you figured you'd try the other. Seonghwa was stroking his cock to the sight of them, so he was surprised to suddenly see you - covered in cum - in front of him. ''Fuck,'' he cursed underneath his breath.
''Do you still have some energy to spare, Hwa...? I haven't felt your cock in me yet,'' you pouted. The puppy eyes, pout and your smokin' body could never make him say no. San suddenly moaned out your name. Then Seonghwa's name.
''That's it, you got their attention, now be a good boy and get them here huh?'' Wooyoung grunted as he railed him in a position you were not bendy enough for.
''P-Please come here I need you, I want you, W-Want you!''
You smirked and dragged Seonghwa over to San and Wooyoung. Wooyoung pulled out of San briefly. ''Here's how we're gonna do this,'' he started, ''Seonghwa you're gonna lay down. Y/N you'll get on top of him and San, you're gonna fuck her from behind.''
The three of you obeyed Wooyoung and got in these exact positions. It was just like it was with Jongho and Yunho, except you were too tired to properly hold yourself up. You rested on your elbows on either side of Seonghwa's body as his hands roamed your ass. San slid his cock inside you besides Seonghwa's and quickly started moving. He was whining and nearly sobbing in your neck from the sensitivity.
The three of you moved in such a nice flow, moaning left and right, bodies rolling together, sweat dripping from each body and you swore it was like the most perfect porn movie in existance. Suddenly San cried out and lunged forward, calling out Wooyoung's name.
Wooyoung had assembled all the guys and ordered them to come closer. They had gathered 'round the four of you before Wooyoung suddenly slid back into San's ass. ''Y-Youngie, please, I'm so sensitive,'' he pleaded. But he showed no mercy, fucking into San even harder than before, fucking San right into you as well.
Seonghwa whined and bucked up his hips as Yeosang encouraged him to. ''That's it, fuck up into her, God, that's so hot.'' ''Fuck, fuck, oh my God!'' you moaned loudly. The remaining five guys stood there stroking their cocks quickly, watching the most sinful foursome ever witnessed. The lewd noises and sounds were so pornographic you could've made serious money with this.
It didn't take long before everyone was cumming, one after another, cum filling you and San up and cum landing on your thighs and backs. So much was happening and the pleasure and situation was so overwhelming that when the guys slipped out of you you passed out.
You woke up a while later in your bed where Seonghwa was snuggled up against you. ''Hey, there you are... You fell asleep there... I think. We don't know if you just fell asleep or killed you by dicking you down,'' he grinned softly. He gave you a bottle of water and some head pats as you smiled at him. ''You're all good?'' ''Yeah, I'm okay, just really sore... Thank you for cleaning me up and bringing me here... And staying here with me,'' you spoke. You took a sip from the bottle, coughing to scratch your sore throat.
''That's not a problem... Wooyoung should've done it though cause it was his idea but I doubt if he's still alive cause I believe someone sucked him off in the bathroom.'' You giggled and drank some more before laying down. ''This won't change a thing right? Besides that it might happen again...''
''Well we could play truth or dare again next week?''
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roosterforme · 4 months
Text
Always Ever Only You Part 26 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: No matter what Bradley did, you seemed frustrated with him. You needed a new car, but you needed to start communicating with him even more. He was scrambling to try to fix everything, but it was hard when you could barely stay awake for a conversation.
Warnings: Swearing, drinking, pregnancy topics, angst
Length: 5900 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32
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When nearly a week had gone by, and you still wouldn't focus on picking out a new car for yourself, Bradley was starting to get frustrated. Sharing the Bronco with you wasn't a big deal. You respected it and treated it well, but he had to play nice when you wanted to use it to go to brunch on Sunday with Cam and Maria at the same time he wanted to play golf.
"Can't Jake pick you up?" you asked him with an annoyed sigh. "I'll text him and ask if he can come get you."
"Why can't Cam or Maria pick you up?" he asked, feeling kind of fucking fed up with you at the moment. 
"Fine," you replied, an eerily calm expression taking over your face. "I'll have one of them pick me up for brunch in the morning. Don't worry about it."
You turned on your heel and walked back to the bedroom leaving Bradley raking his fingers through his hair. He had finally started to feel normal again after having your parents at the house for a few days. It's not like they were even loud or inconsiderate, but he just struggled a bit with it anyway. He wasn't used to closing the bedroom door knowing Tramp liked to wander around the house at all hours of the day and night. He liked to take a piss with the bathroom door open, and he liked to randomly reach up under your shirt when you were in the kitchen if you welcomed it. And he just couldn't do any of that with other people in the house, even though it was family. 
"Fuck," he mumbled. It wasn't even a big deal for you to take the Bronco to brunch. Jake or Javy could easily get him on their way to the golf course, and now he needed to go apologize to you. But the bedroom door was closed when he got there, and he immediately felt like he needed to be touching you, because you were literally the only person who could be in his personal space all day long and not usually annoy him in the slightest. 
When he turned the knob, he was relieved to find it wasn't locked. "Baby Girl?" he called out cautiously, and then he found you in the bathroom. "Shit," he whispered, watching you wipe your eyes before turning toward the mirror, but there was no way to hide from him in here. "I'm sorry."
"Could you just leave me alone?" you asked without looking at him.
The words caused him physical pain, because that was the last thing he wanted right now. He'd gotten used to how much better everything was recently, and he was absolutely unwilling to stop communicating with you. "Can we talk about it? About a car? We could buy one tomorrow if you pick one out."
You turned and snapped at him. "Maybe next time just don't fuck up the one I already have!"
He had apologized to you countless times. He'd given your shit car a eulogy. He had offered to buy you any car you found that you wanted, but now he was just as mad as you were. "I just wanted to tell you that you can use the Bronco tomorrow."
"How generous," you replied sarcastically. "But I already told you I'll get a ride from Cam or Maria. Now would you please leave me alone?"
Bradley nodded and retreated back to the living room couch with Tramp, because he didn't know what else to do. He stretched out and decided to look at cars until you resurfaced to make dinner. There were two huge dealerships in San Diego that had the current model year of your old car, and they both had them stocked in several colors with different options available. You could get a new red one with a sunroof and gray interior just like you had before. He'd upgrade the stereo package to make riding in it less painful for him, but he'd buy it right now if you said it's what you wanted. 
As he thought back to the way you dragged your feet about wedding planning, he muttered a string of obscenities. At this rate, he'd be sharing the Bronco with you for a long time. He bookmarked a bunch of new cars, and then he searched all over the country to see if anyone was selling an exact replica of the one he totaled. A few hours later, it occurred to him that you never came back out of the bedroom. He scooped up Tramp where he'd fallen asleep on his chest and carried him back down the hallway. 
You were sound asleep in bed, curled up on your side, breathing softly. Bradley checked the time again. It was only 7:15, but maybe you just needed to rest. He tucked the covers up around your shoulders and kissed your forehead before venturing back out to the kitchen to make himself a sandwich before working out.
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By the middle of the week, you were aggressively annoyed by everything, but mostly Bradley's voice. On Sunday, Cam picked you up for brunch even though Bradley told you a million times you could use the Bronco. You didn't even want to use the Bronco. He could use it all day long. And then you went back to Cam's place and lounged on his couch until you were starting to get hungry for dinner. If Bradley wondered why you were out for a six hour brunch, he didn't ask. 
But when he eventually called your phone, you asked Cam to drive you home. "Your husband is like a twelve out of ten," he murmured as he drove you. "Don't be mean to him." Then you climbed out of his car onto your driveway and rolled your eyes, because after that he was getting on your nerves, too.
So on Monday and Tuesday, you just avoided Bradley as much as you could at work after driving in with him, but on Wednesday, as he pulled into the parking garage, he cleared his throat. "Hard Deck tonight?"
"You can go," you replied as you unbuckled your seatbelt. "You can take the Bronco, and I'll just stay home." You bit your lip immediately as you said the words, because you felt like crying. You couldn't understand what was wrong with you as tears burned your eyes. The last thing you wanted to do was skip a fun night out. You also didn't know why you couldn't commit to a car. Everything felt like too much the last few days, and you wanted to scream.
"Can we talk about this?" Bradley asked, his voice pleading with you, but you didn't even know what to say. 
"Later," you told him before heading for the building, but he was right behind you, undeterred.
"Don't give me that later bullshit. We've been talking and communicating a lot better, and I absolutely refuse to stop doing either of those things!"
You spun around so fast, he almost collided with you. "I have a meeting with Bickel, okay? About Annapolis. And it starts in twenty minutes. And I'm tired. And I miss my car. And I need to go."
After that, you weren't sure if he followed you or not, because you didn't turn around to check. When you got to your office and opened your computer, you saw the calendar reminder that made more tears cloud your vision. You cradled your forehead in your hand. Saturday was Carole Bradshaw's birthday. 
The fact that you forgot it was coming up was worrying, because you couldn't let work take over your life again like it had in the past. You'd been mentally planning to make another fancy dinner to celebrate her day, the way you had for both of Bradley's parents' birthdays last year. Filet mignon and crab cakes and brownies. 
Fuck. You wanted to sit alone in your office and cry all morning, but now you had four minutes until you had to sit down with your boss. You pulled yourself together the best you could and made your way to talk to Bickel. Cat was there too, and you could feel her intense gaze on you as if she was physically touching you. You knew she could tell something was on your mind, but you sat as calmly as you could and looked through the folder of information that was given to you. 
Bickel folded his hands on his desk and said, "I'm letting the two of you decide how you'd like to present our work in Annapolis. I'm trying to finalize some dates for us, but it's looking like the first week of August. This would add two million dollars to our pending budget for next year, which would give us the opportunity to explore an even more advanced comms system. And it would be a great way for me to push for your promotion, Lieutenant Coleman."
"Yes, Sir," Cat replied immediately. When you were both dismissed, she took you by the arm out in the hallway and whispered, "Please, I need you to focus on this for me. Okay? Why do you look like you're on the verge of tears?"
"I'm having a bad week," you whispered, still unsure why you felt like this. Your fingers were tingling, and you were so anxious, you were about to walk yourself to see Dr. Genevieve. But you hadn't eaten breakfast, and it was almost lunchtime now after Bickel kept you so long. "I need lunch," you told Cat, and she sighed and walked down to the cafeteria with you.
Part of you wanted to see Bradley, but part of you did not. And something about the idea of a burrito bowl was turning your stomach just looking at it. You picked out a sandwich and some soup and found a spot at a table that was completely empty except for Bob. 
"Hi," you said softly, and he looked up from his notebook with a smile as you slid into the seat across from him. 
"Hi," he replied in his sweet voice that immediately made you feel calmer. "I actually was hoping to see you to thank you again. Maria has been really accommodating about me moving in, and this way I don't have to commute into the city every day."
You waved him off as you tried a spoonful of the flavorless soup. "I'm just happy it worked out. For both of you. I didn't want Maria to have some creep move in since she couldn't find anyone else. And obviously you're just lovely, Bob."
He visibly bristled a bit. "No, she shouldn't have to deal with a creepy roommate."
Then Jake dropped down in the seat next to yours and turned to smile as Cat sat on his other side. "Angel. What the hell are you doing to Rooster now?"
"What do you mean?" you asked, looking around, but your husband and Nat were still in line for food. 
"He's fucking miserable today. Cranky as hell. And I know for a fact nothing can set that man off the way you can. It's honestly pretty funny, but he did snap at me three times. It's like dealing with Hondo all over again."
"Sorry," you heard Cat mutter as she ate her lunch.
You gripped your spoon in your hand and took a deep breath, but all you could say was, "I don't know." You truly didn't know what was going on. Your brain was in a constant fog, and you felt so antsy. 
Bradley sat across the table from you, eyeing you carefully from his spot next to Bob. You tried to give him a reassuring smile, but you didn't know if it came across that way when he just looked sadder. 
"Who's coming to the bar tonight?" Nat asked loudly.
After Jake and Cat agreed to go, you quietly said, "Not me. I have to catch up on some things I was supposed to read, but I'll drop Bradley off for the night."
Your husband shook his head and opened his mouth to reply, but Nat was already squeezing his shoulder. "Sounds good," she said, and after that, he sat quietly. 
----------------------------
Bradley flew all afternoon, and it was bad. Just really, very bad. He was distracted, and the fact that Javy had to keep repeating himself was about to earn Bradley a lecture from Maverick if he didn't pull it together. But you were just making him so sad, and he had no idea why you were currently barely able to look at him without crying or yelling. 
He hadn't even done anything. Had he? Yeah, he'd completely destroyed your beloved car, but the visit with your parents had gone pretty well. He hadn't missed any important dates of anniversaries. He'd been keeping up with his chores at home. 
You'd been running a bit hot and cold in the bedroom. He'd never push you for more than you wanted to do, but then perhaps he hadn't been good for you recently? The mere thought had him squirming and sweating in his cockpit as he followed Javy into a dive. Shit. Could that be it? He always got you off. Except that he knew he hadn't in the family bathroom at the Padres game, but you and he had been in a rush. And that night last week when you started yawning while you rode him, he distinctly remembered you saying it didn't matter if you came since you were so tired.
Shit. Things had been going great, he didn't realize what he'd been doing, and now he had to figure out how to fix it when you seemed so disinterested in talking to him. As he brought his jet back down to the tarmac he tried to come up with a plan, but he felt helpless. These were the times he felt like having a mother of his own would come in handy, because he couldn't exactly take this to your mom. 
"Fuck." He wrenched his helmet off and ran his fingers through his hair. You were sending him off to the bar alone tonight to get him out of your space, he could tell. So maybe the best thing he could do right now was just follow your lead. 
After he showered and headed for the parking garage, he found you leaning against the side of the Bronco waiting for him. "Hi, Sweetheart," he said, leaning down to kiss you softly.
Your quiet response of, "Hi, Roo," made him feel a lot better, and you let him buckle you in, which was great. But then you said, "I'll just drop you off at the bar later and come back for you. I have some things I want to get done."
He nodded. "Sure. Whatever you want." 
Back at home, he was able to coax you onto his lap for dinner at the dining room table, and even though it was a quiet affair, he didn't mind. He just rubbed his hand up and down your back, and eventually you sank back against him even though you'd only had a few bites of food. You were practically asleep on him as he finished eating, but you jolted up when his phone vibrated against your hip.
"It's probably just Nat," he whispered, and you nodded as you checked the time. 
"I'll drop you off whenever you're ready, and I'll come back for you around ten?"
He cupped your perfect cheek in one hand and asked, "Are you sure you don't want to come? I can help you get caught up with work tomorrow or this weekend. I'm a pretty good helper."
You cracked the tiniest smile as you said, "I'm just not in the mood. You go and drink and have fun, and I'll come back for you."
He kissed your cheek. "I'll be waiting, ready to come home with you whenever you get there."
--------------------------
When Bradley climbed out of the Bronco, you watched him head inside the bar. He was wearing his white and yellow floral print shirt, part of the matching set that he'd bought for the two of you, and he looked so sexy, you were thrumming with need. You were all over the place. A few days ago, the mere sight of him had you ready to climb out the window, and now you were on the verge of chasing him down to fuck you.
"Get a grip. My god," you moaned as you pulled back onto the road. At least now you could go to the store and purchase everything you'd need to make Carole's birthday dinner in peace. 
The store was quiet, which was great, because you didn't currently know if something was about to set you off. You grabbed a cart, and the cool metal against your hands felt nice. A smile found its way to your face as you listened to Everywhere by Fleetwood Mac playing throughout the store and picked out some beautiful looking steaks. Then you found everything for the crab cakes and the brownies, and you got a bottle of expensive champagne. 
You were already feeling better now, almost excited to celebrate the mother-in-law that you'd never had the privilege of meeting. She deserved a special day and a fancy dinner, because even though you didn't know her personally, you were absolutely certain Carole Bradshaw was incredible. The sparkle of your engagement ring caught your eye, and you stood in front of the wine and champagne and sobbed quietly until you felt like you could continue shopping. 
It had to be the combination of work and her birthday and your car that was setting you off. No matter how bad it made you feel, you'd pick out a new car this weekend. You knew there was enough in your savings account for a down payment, so you just had to force yourself to bite the bullet. You'd do it for Bradley and for yourself. 
While you unpacked the groceries, you made a sandwich, finally hungry again after you'd barely been able to eat dinner. But that started to make you too full after just half of it. "Don't tell Daddy," you whispered before feeding it to Tramp. 
Then you sat at the island and read through the folder from Bickel. You had weeks of research and planning ahead of you, but it would be worth it for the grant money. Cat was a solid gold choice as a partner for this, especially since she was motivated by that promotion she wanted. You were excited, but realistically so. You needed to make sure you didn't overdo things this time around. You could rely on Cat as much as yourself, and you knew that now.
When you checked the time on your phone, it was already 10:30. You texted Bradley and let him know you'd be there soon. When you started the Bronco, you got a text back.
Bradley Rooster Bradshaw <3 <3 <3: Can't wait for you to take me home.
You smiled and sang on your way there, already feeling better about having everything for Carole's birthday dinner ready to go. You parked the Bronco and headed inside, twirling Bradley's keyring on your fingers. As soon as you pushed the door open, the wave of noise hit you, and you made a beeline for the pool table. Penny's summer drink specials must have been on point, because the place was packed.
Just when you were trying to squeeze between two massive guys, you caught sight of Bradley just in time to see a woman walk up behind him and tap him on the shoulder. Maybe he thought it was you at first, because he spun to face her with a smile on his face. You got jostled around a little bit as your steps faltered and came to a stop. Bradley was conversing a bit with her now, although his smile was gone, and you watched as she reached up with her perfectly manicured nails and dragged them along his paper airplane tattoo on his bicep.
"Oh, hell no," you gasped, registering that Bradley looked surprised, and not in a good way. But you were frozen to the spot now as disgust, embarrassment and jealousy washed over you. It wasn't like he wasn't wearing his wedding band. He was. How was that not enough? You couldn't decide if you wanted to run away or rip her head off.
Bradley immediately started to back away from her, shaking his head as he went, and then his gaze connected with yours. He mouthed your name, and you could see the concern on his face as you swallowed hard. Instead of running away, you stood there like an idiot when he came rushing in your direction.
"Sweetheart," he said, reaching for your hand, his eyes on yours. 
"Who's your friend?" you asked. Your voice sounded like it belonged to someone else while your throat burned. 
You let him wrap one big hand around your back and pull you closer, holding you there. "No idea. Never saw her before thirty seconds ago."
"I didn't like her touching you."
His eyebrow quirked up as his hand dipped a little lower. "Neither did I. Especially since I got the tattoo for you, Baby Girl."
You had your arms around his neck instantly, the other woman forgotten as you kissed your husband. He tasted like your favorite beer, and you whimpered. But your body felt somehow both too tender and too needy pressed up against him as you said, "It's for me. Mine. Let's go home."
-------------------------
Bradley let you drive since he'd had a fair amount to drink. That fucking woman just about ruined his night by asking him what he was drinking and then touching his arm, feigning interest in his unique tattoo. The past week had already felt like touch and go with you, and he was unwilling to make it worse. He still wasn't quite sure how to get things back to where they had been just a short time ago. 
When you parked in the driveway in the spot where you used to park your car, he almost winced. But you crawled over to his lap and started to unbutton his shirt. "Take me to bed," you told him, rubbing yourself on him through his jeans. 
He grunted in response, carrying you up to the porch and wrestling with his key in the lock as you kissed his neck. Clothing was discarded along the way, and when he got you in the bedroom with the soft lamplight illuminating your skin, he moaned. 
"Jesus Christ, you're a dream."
Truly, your tits had never looked better, and somehow the aroused looking little scowl you were shooting his way was really working him up as you shimmied your jeans down your legs. He was hard when you finally pushed him onto the bed and climbed on top. 
"I love you," he promised as your lips met his, and you sank down around his length. Warm and wet and perfect. Holy shit, you felt incredible as you rolled your hips slowly, his hands settling at your waist. You were velvety smooth everywhere. The only thing he wanted. 
He held your hips in his hands and thrust up into you as his lips met your nipple. You moaned as he licked you, but as soon as he sucked hard, pulling you between his lips, you gasped. So he did it again and again, but your hips stilled and your hands left his shoulders and reached for his cheeks.
"It hurts," you gasped, pushing his face away from your chest. "Stop."
He let his head settle back on the pillow. "Sorry." Tentatively, he brought his hand up to your left breast and gave you a nice squeeze, but you pulled away further. Then you were kneeling next to him with your arms crossed over your chest. "Sorry," he repeated. "But I always touch you that way?"
You burst into tears and said, "It just hurts."
And that was the last thing you said to him for the night as you crawled under the covers. As soon as Bradley got his erection under control by pacing around the bathroom, he walked back to the bed to find you sound asleep.
On Thursday and Friday, you didn't even acknowledge it. When he asked if it was okay if he touched you on Thursday morning, you went willingly into his arms as the toaster popped out your breakfast. And on Friday morning, you let him snuggle with you a little bit before you got out of bed, so at least he was fairly convinced you weren't too mad at him. But he just knew he hadn't been doing enough for you in bed which really pissed him off. 
He was older than everyone else around him seemingly all the time, and now he was feeling insecure about it again. If he could just manage to get you to have a real conversation with him, then he'd try to fix this. But you were busy with work, something else that had a red flag shooting up in the back of his mind. No, he was not going to fuck this all up yet again. You and he had something special, and he was going to demand a conversation. 
--------------------------
You poked at your lunch on Friday as Jake and Bradley argued next to you in the cafeteria. You were barely able to pay attention to them, because you were so tired, and you had another meeting with Bickel in an hour. As far as you could tell, you were getting the flu, which seemed weird for July, but nothing else made sense. 
No matter how much you slept, you were exhausted. Your body was aching, and you were so damn moody. You'd practically accosted Bradley on Wednesday after you picked him up from the bar, but then you fell asleep as soon as you told him your breasts hurt. You felt embarrassed now as you looked at him next to you, because after all of that, you didn't even let him finish that night. 
As you adjusted your shirt, you could have screamed at how tender your nipples were. At least it was Friday. You could catch up on reading for your presentation research, and then you could sleep. 
"Come on, Rooster," Jake complained. "You have to come tomorrow. I'll leave the hard seltzers at home, and Javy and I will behave."
Bradley turned to look at you with big, brown eyes before he told Jake, "No. No golf tomorrow. I have some things I need to take care of." Then he turned back toward you and softly said, "We're talking tomorrow. About a bunch of stuff. Until we are sorted out."
Now you felt guilty as Jake shot you a look. "We can talk tomorrow afternoon, Roo. Go play golf."
"Yeah, Bradshaw," Jake piped up. "Angel said you can do shit with her in the afternoon. So you'll come with Bob, Javy and I? You know Reuben sucks at golf. He's even worse than you."
"Go," you told Bradley, kissing the edge of his mustache before you stood. "Yes, Jake, he will be golfing tomorrow. I plan on sleeping in, and the quiet house will be nice."
Bradley reached for your hand, lacing his fingers with yours as he looked up at you. "I love you."
You nodded. "I love you, too. I need to go get ready for a meeting." His eyes were on your body as you walked away, but you needed to focus on work right now. 
It was all you could do to go back to Bickel's office with Cat and not fall asleep in his soft leather chair. Your boss's calm voice and the warm room were almost too much for your senses. You were fighting with yourself to keep your eyes open. Fighting with everything you had to stay engaged. An hour went by and then two, and he was still talking, and so was Cat, and they kept asking you for input. You were clinging to your extensive knowledge on the subject matter and hoping for the best when Bickel's desk phone rang, and he finally dismissed you. 
"This is so exciting," Cat gushed out in the cooler hallway. "I was telling Jake last night that you and I are going to have the best presentation at the Naval Academy next month, and do you know what he said?"
"Hmm?" you hummed as you walked to the lab.
"He offered to watch Jeremiah!"
"Oh." You hadn't even really considered how hard it would be for Cat to go to Maryland with you, but this was probably a big deal. Jeremiah wasn't even two yet. "Wow. Look at Jake being an exceptional boyfriend. Good thing I pushed the two of you to actually communicate with each other."
Cat laughed and hugged you before entering the lab, but you cringed. Communication. You'd talk to Bradley tomorrow afternoon. You'd pick a car tomorrow afternoon. But when you got home today, you were going to take your temperature and then get in bed. 
You had to wait by the Bronco for such a long time, you contemplated texting Bradley to see what the holdup was. It was late, you were actually starving, and you wanted to go home. You shifted your bag from one shoulder to the other, beyond annoyed that there was only one key to this thing; you couldn't even sit inside. You glared at the pretty blue paint, really missing your ugly red car with your whole heart when you heard boots pounding the pavement behind you.
"I'm so sorry, Baby Girl," Bradley gasped. He must have run the whole way here from the tarmac since he was still in his flight suit. "We ran over. I should have left the keys with you this morning. I"m sorry."
You nodded as he helped you in the passenger side door and buckled you in. "Okay."
He pulled out of the parking garage, glancing at you every few seconds. "All you're going to say is okay?"
You yawned wishing you could get undressed. "What do you want me to say, Bradley?"
He was quiet for a few blocks, but when he turned down your street, he let loose. "I want you to say something more than okay. I want you to fucking talk to me, alright? I feel like everything I'm doing right now is making you mad at me, and I hate that. I fucking hate it." He hit the brakes a little hard in the driveway, and now you were alert as you started crying. 
"Fuck!" Bradley growled, hands gripping the steering wheel. "I'm sorry." He looked so upset right now, you didn't even know what to do as tears streamed down your cheeks. Then he was running across the driveway and helping you out of the Bronco and into the house, but the tears kept coming. And now your head was throbbing and you felt so sick. 
"I just want to go to bed," you gasped. "Please," you begged as he kissed your forehead over and over again while Tramp jumped around. 
"Of course," Bradley whispered, his lips meeting your face again before he knelt in front of you. He kissed your thighs through your khaki pants and helped you out of your boots, looking up at your face which you were sure looked like a wreck. "Sweetheart, I'm so sorry I yelled." 
"It's okay," you managed as the room spun a little bit. "I just need to get in bed."
He carried you there, and it felt amazing to not have to walk. Then he set you on the bed and undressed you as he asked, "Do you want some water? A snack?"
You nodded and got under the covers, and said, "Yes, please," as you started to doze off. All you managed to do was eat a handful of trail mix and chug a glass of water before you passed out. 
When you eventually woke up, you felt a little better, but when you rolled over, the other half of the bed was empty and cold. It was eight in the morning according to your phone. You'd just slept for over twelve hours, and Bradley was out playing golf now. The cool fabric of his pillow on your face felt so nice, you rolled over all the way. You must have a fever and the flu. You felt too hot, and your breasts were aching. So was your abdomen. Your period was probably about to start. 
You frowned and looked at your phone again, opening the calendar app. It was Carole's birthday, but it was apparently also five weeks since you'd had your period. "Oh my god." You practically fell out of the bed, your legs tangling up in the sheets as you tried to get to your feet. 
"Oh shit," you gasped, running for the bathroom. You didn't know what to do first, but your stomach won as you lunged for the toilet and threw up everything in your stomach. "Gross," you groaned as you flushed the toilet, but as soon as you tried to stand, more came up. Your heart was thudding in your chest as you forced yourself to be patient and let your stomach empty itself.
When you finally could, you got to your feet again, removing your glasses to rinse your mouth out and splash water on your face. Then you dried yourself and slid them back on. You eyed the linen closet next to the door in the mirror before turning around slowly. As you strode across the tile floor, Tramp came in to investigate, but you ignored him as you closed the distance to where you thought you might have one last pregnancy test hidden away.
You opened the narrow door and knelt down, and then you started throwing everything from the bottom shelves over your shoulders, frantically searching. You saw the box, and you tore it open. You already knew what to do, because you'd done it so many times before, but your hands were shaking as you removed the test and looked at it on your palm in the foil wrapper. 
Tramp whimpered at you as you got to your feet again and made it to the toilet, this time pulling your underwear down as you went. When the wrapper fell away, you took the test, hands shaking as you set it on the edge of the sink vanity when you were done. Then you wiped as you started to panic. Three minutes. You needed to wait for three minutes. 
Your phone was simply too far away as you started counting out loud, your voice echoing around your bathroom. It wasn't ready yet. You climbed into the empty bathtub, sitting and wrapping your arms around your knees. And you counted. 
You closed your eyes, and you counted. You looked at Tramp, and you counted. You pressed your forehead to your knees, and you counted all the way until you reached one hundred and eighty. 
"Three minutes," you whispered, your heart beating so hard, it was making you feel like you might need to throw up again. You climbed out of the tub onto unsteady legs and held your breath as you walked to the vanity. Very carefully, like it was the most precious thing you'd ever touched, you picked up the test. You checked the result before promptly dropping it to the floor.
------------------------
Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 27
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obsessedduh · 9 days
Text
genre: smut and fluff!!
cw: implied fem reader, overstimulation and sweet and silly sex. that's it!
side note: sorry, i haven't been as frequent as i used to, and decided to make this though i'm hella sick as an apology 😭. also got hella lazy to do a proof read so sorry if it's shit. OH AND THANK YOU SM FOR 800+ AND IN LIKE THREE MONTHS TOO!? FUCKING LOVE YOU LOT!! 😭😭
similar post —> here
MDNI – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
*✧・゚: *✧・゚
simon 'ghost' riley with a dorky wife who works at a zoo? like when you guys were on your first date and you told him you work with animals for a living, he was hooked, interested even. he literally felt like he wanted to buy a ring and propose to you there and then.
so when he comes home from work and you rush up to him and also hug him, saying how much you missed him. it shocks him. c'mon. you're dealing with a man who barely had affection in his childhood. of course he's happy, coming home to see his gorgeous fucking wife so happy to see him. it's batshit crazy to him how he even got the chance to marry a pretty thing like you.
it doesn't take long before you usher him onto the couch and give him his dinner and sit next to him, blabbering about what happened at work the same day. he just stares at you with a blank expression, causing you to wonder if you're talking too much. he notices how your face alters, and he looks back at his food and continues eating it, "so how's alina, she doin' ok?"
alina? the pregnant white tiger you mentioned a couple months ago? he remembered! you instantly perked up and started yapping again. it took everything in simon to not smile at your cuteness, he loves how cute you are. espically in the bedroom.
gosh how much he much loves your facial expressions when his cock abuses your poor pussy. staring at the way your pretty face contorts into a pleased expression when fingers runs up your thigh to your pussy to tease your clit. watching as his name falls out that pretty little mouth of yours. gawking as your wetness coats his length with a white ring.
you bite your lip, slowly becoming obsessed with simon's hypnotic touch. he leans down to capture your swollen and bitten lips into a sloppy kiss, touching intertwining in a heated kiss, one that has you moaning into the kiss like a desperate love-sick puppy.
he pulls away, a trail of spit running down your chin, proof of the kiss you shared. he thrusts his hips little faster, his cock stretching you ever so good. he ogles you as your eyes roll to the back of your head and your toes curl. you let out a drawn-out moan as you cover his cock with your currently pending orgasm. he fucks and praise you through it, grinning at the way your face scrunches up when you feel the overstimulation creeping up to you.
he doesn't stop though, still fucking you stupid. he thrusts into your pathetically soaked cunt. his tip bumping against your cervix. you whine from the painfully pleasuring sensation in your lower core. tears prickling up in your eyes.
"sh baby, don' cry. i know know... it's t'much, but you can take it, princess? can' you? yeah? there's my good girl, taking my cock s'well?" he coos in your ear, his words are as sweet as lullaby. the movement of his hips beginning to go incoherent, indicating he's gonna cum soon.
"gonna cum, love. wanna cum with me... yeah, i know you do. cmon cum with me, love." he again, coos in your ear, this time his voice is breathy with a slight rasp.
you blabber and moan out as you squirt around his length once again. your hands gripping desperately his arms to stabilise yourself when your thighs begin to shake and tremble. he buries his creamy white deep inside of you, groaning as your pussy milks him dry.
he slowly pulls out, his cock now flaccid and resting on your thigh. you both pant, tired from your session.
"hey, maybe if we're lucky, you could get pregnan' like alina, hm?"
"you're honestly such a dickhead simon."
"awww... c'mon, you know you love me."
you both laugh like high-school children and then he places a soft kiss to your forehead.
"let's get cleaned up, yeah?"
"sounds like a date."
he let's out another chuckle at your words. "mhm..."
*✧・゚: *✧・゚
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matchingbatbites · 27 days
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somehow we're here
Explicit | 6.5k | Modern AU | Full Tags + Read on Ao3
Steve only downloaded the app because he was drunk. 
At least, that’s what he’ll tell himself in the morning, once he’s back in the light of day and not half-gone on a few fruity cocktails and multiple shots of tequila - at least three, though it’s realistically more like five or six. Nevermind that he’s been home for almost an hour at this point, is only still awake because of the vague nausea still rolling in his stomach. 
It had been incredibly easy to set up an account, even in his drunken state - something he thinks might be a feature and not a bug - and he’s been scrolling on it for about ten minutes when he realizes-
He’s still bored.
Because that had been the real reason, hadn’t it?
Steve is bored. Bored of first dates that seem to go nowhere, of relationships that seem to fizzle out after a few weeks, and for whatever reason, Tequila Steve seems convinced that a gay dating app would be a fun thing to sign up for. It’s not like he has anything to lose, he’s just bored and kind of horny and definitely not lonely and desperate.
So Steve flips through profiles, taking in photos of the same waifish boys and beefy gym bros. He’s just about ready to give up and try to sleep through the nausea, when he stumbles across a profile that makes him stop cold. 
The photo looks like it’s from a concert or something; the guy is on a stage, clearly mid-show, with a wicked looking guitar in his hands. Steve’s eyes get caught on those hands, the veins and the painted nails and the chunky, silver rings. 
His hair is a riot of dark curls haloed by the stage lights, and Steve regrets that he isn’t able to see the man’s face. He focuses instead on his clothes, the black t-shirt and ripped jeans, his exposed forearms littered with black ink. 
The photo is so honest. It’s pure, simple emotion and Steve is instantly drawn in, eager to know more about this person.
The next photo is closer, clearly cropped down from a larger picture, and Steve gets his first good look at the man’s beautiful face. Deep, chocolate eyes that house a delighted sparkle, a blinding smile that sets loose a swarm of butterflies in Steve’s stomach. Not to mention the piercings; two just below his lower lip and another through his eyebrow - Steve briefly wonders if he has more, maybe his tongue or his nipples - fuck, that would be so hot.
In the last photo the man is seated on a couch, holding an acoustic guitar this time, and he seems focused on whatever he’s playing, clearly unaware of the camera-person at all. Those brown curls are pulled into an updo, revealing ears littered with even more silver jewelry, and there’s a cute little crinkle between his brows that Steve wants to smooth out with his thumb.
Steve scrolls down to actually read the guy’s profile, and sees that his name is Eddie. He’s 27 and local to the area, he likes metal music and D&D, and he definitely seems to check a lot of Steve’s boxes. Nerdy? Yeah. Hot? Fuck yeah. Confident? If the concert photo is anything to go by, this man has confidence coming out his ass. So yeah, check there too. 
He adds the guy without hesitation, and will once again blame Tequila Steve for what’s next once he’s sober. He sends Eddie a message.
‘Hi, i’m straight, i literally just got this app cause im kinda bord and kinda drunk. But you’re actually my type. Can I be honest?’
Steve doesn’t really expect an immediate response, considering that it’s two in the morning and all, so he decides to flip over to a different app, already knowing that he isn’t really going to care about anyone else he might come across. He’s surprised when only a couple of minutes later, he gets back a simple ‘Sure lmao’, and scrambles to flip back over to the messenger.
‘I didint think i’d message anyone on here but your cute and hnestly i geuss i kinda like that you won’t get pregnant.’
He decides to wait this time, to see if he’ll get another quick response, and he holds his breath when the typing indicator pops up, only to disappear again. It does this a couple of times, like Eddie is writing and pausing, or erasing and starting over, and Steve just waits, so curious to know what the other man is going to say.
‘Are you free tomorrow? I need to know if you’re as adorably endearing when you’re sober.’
Steve gasps in delight. Eddie wants to meet him! He kicks his feet a little in excitement and messages back ‘I can be as endering as you want me to be baby.’ It takes him a second to realize he hadn’t actually answered Eddie’s question, and he sends a follow up ‘Yes i am free tomorow.’
‘Meet me at Hank’s on 6th? 7pm?’
He confirms the time and place, and even as giddy as he is, Steve’s barely able to exchange a few more messages before he’s out like a light.
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Steve wakes up the next morning with a headache. It’s nowhere near the level of one of his migraines, but it’s enough to be annoying as he gets up and starts his day. He’s thankful it’s Saturday, that all he really has to worry about are some errands and brunch with Robin.
A quick shower and a cup of coffee has him feeling more alive, but meeting up with Robin makes him feel better than anything else could. She looks about as bad as he does, which is interesting considering that she didn’t even come with him to the club last night. 
They chatter on for a while, with Steve letting her rant again about the situation she finds herself in (she refuses to drop Vickie even though the girl bounces between her on-again-off-again boyfriend and Robin like a fucking ping pong ball, and she also refuses to admit her growing feelings for Chrissy, her roommate turned friend with benefits. It’s a whole mess.)
She asks about his own dating life, and he honestly has nothing new to report. He’d gone out last night intending to at least find someone to take home, but once he actually got into the scene, the effort just didn’t seem worth it for a temporary fix. 
Instead he drank, and he danced with strangers until the room started to spin, and then he made his way home. He’d had fun, even though he'd ended his night alone. Robin hums and pours another drink from the pitcher between them - White Peach Sangria this week, and it’s good, though Steve prefers the Bloody Mary they had last time. 
“We're kind of pathetic, huh?”
“I mean, you are,” Steve replies, and shrugs when she gives an affronted Hey! “I might be single, but you're the one who's letting a great girl slip through your fingers because you can’t say no to your fickle ex.”
“She’s not fickle-”
“Where was she last night?” Steve asks, staring Robin down until she says “With me.”
“Mhm. And where is she now?”
Robin frowns hard and grumbles “With Jack.” 
Steve gives her a look, and she sinks down a little in her seat. 
“You know, sometimes I forget that you were friends with the mean girls in high school, and then you hit me with that fucking Carol Perkins face and it all comes flooding back,” she says, and Steve rolls his eyes. 
“Stop being a drama queen, and stop waiting for Vickie to change her mind about Jack. It’s not fair for her to come running to you every time they have a fight if she has no intention of actually leaving him for you. You deserve better, Rob.”
Robin groans and drains the last of her glass. “When did you get so wise and shit?”
“Fuck you,” Steve says, no heat behind it as he kicks her under the table. “I know how relationships work and shit. You’re the one who doesn’t listen to me.”
She kicks him back with a “Yeah, yeah. Come on, let’s finish this pitcher so I can go home and wallow.”
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The notification comes in after brunch, once he and Robin have parted ways and Steve’s just parked at the grocery store (he doesn’t take Robin with him to the store anymore, for both of their sakes). 
‘Hey, just want to make sure we’re still good for tonight?’
Tonight? What’s tonight?
It takes him a moment to remember his actions from the night before, to remember the app. Steve’s stomach flips at the vague memory of a conversation and he opens the messenger. He scrolls up, reading his message history with this Eddie person, and oh god. 
Is it possible to get secondhand embarrassment from your own actions? Your very drunk and somewhat horny actions? The guy seemed to take it pretty well, at least, and Steve taps over to his profile out of curiosity.
And yeah, okay, Tequila Steve had a point. He’s never thought about dating a guy before, but this man is hot, just absolutely sexy in a way Sober Steve isn’t prepared for. He had been planning on telling this Eddie guy that he was drunk when he agreed to meet, that he wasn’t interested, but now that would be a lie. Because he’s definitely interested.
He sends a ‘Yup! Still good :)’ and then quickly follows it with ‘I was so drunk last night that I kind of forgot about our conversation, so I’m glad you messaged me!’
Eddie’s reply takes a second, that starting and stopping going on just long enough to make Steve nervous before a message comes through. 
‘Oh damn! I’m glad I did too. Though you did tell me last night that you’re straight, so I won’t hold it against you if you don’t want to meet anymore. I know alcohol can make us do things we normally wouldn’t.’
Oh, he’s sweet. Steve actually does decide to think about it, and flips back over to Eddie’s profile as he does. He goes through the photos again, imagines what it would be like to be close, be intimate with Eddie the way he has with women. It doesn’t scare him the way he thinks it should, because he doesn’t actually think it would be that different. Sex is just sex, right? It’s the person that makes it fun, makes it special. And Eddie definitely seems like a special one.
What reaffirms Steve’s decision is the last photo, where Eddie is holding the acoustic. His eyes catch again on those ringed fingers, on the rough, clearly hand cut neckline of Eddie’s shirt. He thinks about what it would be like to lick the jut of Eddie’s exposed collar bone, and the shiver that runs down his spine has him immediately flipping back to the conversation.
‘I definitely still want to meet. As embarrassing as I was last night, I was telling the truth.’
‘Oh good! Nice to know that sober Steve also thinks I’m cute and is glad I can’t get pregnant.’
Steve groans and drops his head onto the steering wheel a few times. He's never gonna live that one down, is he?
Another message comes through before he can be too mortified, though he almost regrets looking when he sees ‘Unless sober Steve is more upset by that than glad’ which is followed rapidly by ‘It’s okay baby, we can always pretend if you want ;)’
This man is gonna fucking kill Steve.
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Hank's on 6th is a little dive bar that Steve has actually been to a few times, when he and Robin had wanted to go drinking but hadn’t wanted to deal with the noise and bustle of the club. It’s cozy compared to other bars in the area, and Steve is happy for the familiarity of the location as he steps inside. He pauses inside the door and glances around, looking for- oh.
Sitting at a nearby table is Eddie, in the flesh. He’s even more stunning in person, with his hair pulled up into a bun, showing off the jewelry in his ears and the long line of his neck. He’s wearing a dark t-shirt and jeans, and Steve can see a leather jacket slung over the back of his chair.
Eddie spots Steve about the same time and waves, inviting him over. He does his own once-over as Steve approaches, and Steve knows what he looks like. He spent long enough in front of the mirror agonizing over his appearance, making sure everything was perfect. His red sweater is comfortable even though it’s a smidge too small, and he can see Eddie’s eyes catch on the way it stretches across his shoulders, on his forearms where he’s rolled the sleeves up. 
“Not gonna lie,” Eddie says as Steve sits down. “I’m kind of surprised you showed up.”
“I said I would. Tequila Steve might not be the smartest, but sometimes he has good ideas.”
Eddie laughs and Steve is overwhelmed with the desire to dig his thumb into the dimple that appears in the man’s cheek. “Well I hope I get the chance to thank him someday.”
Eddie’s photos don’t do him justice, don’t properly convey the energy he has. They get on better than Steve would have imagined, and while the conversation lulls every now and then, it never truly stops. His piercings catch the light, pulling Steve's attention down to his mouth, to the way it moves while Eddie speaks. It’s distracting, and the teasing smile Eddie wears for the conversation tells Steve that he knows.
Steve learns that Eddie works at an assisted living facility, something he never would have guessed based on the man’s appearance. It’s not a job Eddie ever expected to have, but he loves it, loves helping people who need it and gossiping with the old biddies that have taken a shine to him. In exchange Steve talks about his job as a physical therapist, how he recently started his experiential hours so he can specialize in pediatrics. 
(“I feel kind of dumb now,” Eddie says. “Knowing that you’re a whole ass doctor and I just have a CNA.”
“Eddie, I majored in kinesiology. You’re probably better in a medical setting than I ever will be.”)
They talk about their hobbies and interests, pleased to learn there’s a little bit of crossover with everything. They may not know the ins and outs, but Steve has absorbed some knowledge on D&D thanks to the kids he used to babysit, and Eddie likes to watch sports with his uncle to keep him company on his off days.
They sit and talk for a long while, completely unaware of the time passing until Steve looks at his watch and realizes it’s been nearly four hours since they sat down. 
“Holy shit, it’s almost eleven,” he says, and Eddie blinks in surprise. “Oh wow, I had no idea.” 
It’s like they’ve been snapped back into reality, and Steve notices the half dozen beer bottles littering their table along with the bill that’s been there for who knows how long. Steve pays the check - nearly shoves his card into the server’s hand so he can beat Eddie to it - and they both leave cash for the tip before heading out of the bar.
It’s outside Hank’s that the hesitation sets in. This is one of the best dates Steve has been on in a long, long time, and he really isn’t ready for it to be over. He thinks Eddie feels the same, if the way he reaches over to thread their fingers together means anything.
“Do you want to come back to my place?” Steve asks, practically on impulse, and Eddie smiles.
“I would love to, Stevie.” He takes a breath like he wants to say something else, but pauses, and Steve squeezes his hand gently.
“What are you thinking?”
“I’m trying to figure out how to tell you that I want to have sex with you without sounding like a slut who puts out on the first date.”
Well, that’s fair. Steve doesn’t usually have sex on the first date either. He likes the connection that comes with knowing someone emotionally before learning them physically, but there’s just something about Eddie. Steve feels like he knows the man inside and out after just four hours together, and he knows it’s fast but he wonders what it would feel like to wake up next to him in the morning. 
Steve just grins at the blunt honesty and tugs Eddie closer. “If you’re a slut then so am I, because I’m definitely down for that.” 
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The drive back to Steve’s place doesn’t take long, and before he knows it he’s locking the door behind them as Eddie sheds his leather jacket. He drapes it over the back of the couch as he looks around, taking in Steve’s apartment. It’s not much, but it’s comfortable, cozy, very different from the sterile house Steve grew up in.
Eddie smiles as he sees the trinkets dotted about, a mix of gifts from the kids Steve used to babysit and his own little knick knacks, but pauses when he sees a photo collage of Steve and Robin on the nearby wall. Steve doesn’t like the way his smile dips down into a frown, and he walks over to wrap his arm around Eddie’s waist.
“That’s Robin,” he says as he pulls Eddie into his side, needing to quell any doubts or misconceptions he might be having. “She’s my best friend in the entire world, and a lesbian, so you can stop pouting now.”
Eddie gives him a bit of a side-eye and says “Not pouting. Just want to make sure you’re not doing this behind the back of an unsuspecting girlfriend or something.”
Steve smiles at the consideration and shakes his head as he turns Eddie to face him. “No girl, Eds, I promise. Just you and me.”
Something about that seems to be the final straw for Eddie because he surges forward, hands landing on Steve's neck as he leans up to press their mouths together.
The first kiss with Eddie is easy. It’s not earth-shattering or life changing, not like Steve thought it would be kissing a man for the first time. It feels like a normal kiss, and honestly that’s more of a comfort to Steve than anything. The fact that it’s Eddie on the other side of the kiss is what makes him shudder, makes him press closer. 
Eddie’s hands push up into his hair, messing up the styling as Steve dips his head to kiss along his jaw. He hums into smooth skin and slides his own hands down to Eddie’s ass, squeezing it briefly before using his grip to drag Eddie’s hips against his own.
He can feel the line of Eddie’s dick through the layers of denim and yeah, that’s different, but not bad at all. Steve warms up to it pretty quickly actually, especially once Eddie starts moaning into his ear, a low “Fuck, baby,” that only encourages Steve to continue. Their mouths meet in another kiss as Steve grinds their hips together, each thrust working to drive Steve absolutely insane.
Eddie’s hands eventually make their way south to ruck up Steve’s sweater, and he breaks the kiss just enough to mutter “Off, get this off,” against Steve's mouth.
Steve laughs but steps back, pulls off his top and drops it carelessly to the floor. Eddie groans and reaches out, not even hesitating before he pushes his hands into Steve’s chest hair. “God, I’ve been wanting to do that since I saw your photo last night,” he mutters, and it takes Steve a moment to remember the picture he’d drunkenly added to his profile. 
It was just a typical shirtless thirst shot he’d taken before a run one day (though he had put a shirt on before he actually left, thank you), because he’d felt good about the way he looked - and clearly Eddie had appreciated the picture as well. Steve shudders as Eddie scrapes his nails down his chest, and he half-expects Eddie to start purring in delight. 
“Is it as good as you imagined?” he asks, biting back a chuckle, and Eddie nods. 
“Better than. So fuckin’ hot. Don't ever shave it, I beg you.”
Steve does laugh at that. He lets Eddie get his fill for a moment before swooping in to kiss him again. He slips his fingers into Eddie’s belt loops and mutters a “Bed?” against his mouth. Eddie hums in agreement and Steve tugs him along, guiding him to the bedroom and only stopping once to grind their hips together.  
He steps back enough to pull off Eddie’s shirt and groans because his nipples are pierced, and fuck if that isn’t doing something for Steve. Thumbing over one makes Eddie shiver and gasp, and he knows that he needs to get his mouth on them as soon as possible. He feels like a predator as he pushes Eddie back, not stopping until the man is sprawled across his bed, a beautiful feast meant just for him.
Steve crawls on top of Eddie and presses his lips to the spider decorating his shoulder before moving down to lick over his nipple. Eddie shudders and pushes his hands into Steve's hair, holding him in place as Steve seals his mouth around the pink bud. The piercing is warm, and the stark contrast between metal and flesh has Steve groaning into Eddie's skin.
He sucks on it, earning a stuttering moan from the man under him and hands tightening in his hair. “Fu-uck, Stevie.” Steve thumbs over the other nipple and pinches it just to hear him gasp again, before continuing his journey southwards, pressing kisses into the tattoos he comes across along the way. He pauses for a moment to suck a bruise into Eddie’s hip, just above his waistband, and the man is practically squirming.
“God, when I agreed to come over, I didn’t think you were gonna be this much of a tease.”
Steve rolls his eyes and bites into the bruise he just created, pulling a low groan from Eddie. “It’s called foreplay, you ass.”
“I’d rather you foreplay my ass,” Eddie mutters, and Steve laughs into smooth skin. He does concede, though, and pulls back so he can slide off Eddie’s jeans and underwear, discarding them to the floor. Eddie’s dick is pretty, a smidge thinner than his own but just as long, and weeping heavily from the pink tip. Steve wants to touch it, taste it, wants to feel the weight of it on his tongue as Eddie fucks his mouth.
“Feel free to touch it, not just look at it,” Eddie says, and Steve smirks. 
“Normally I would, but someone wanted me to skip the foreplay.”
Eddie groans dramatically in response and Steve ignores him as he reaches over into the nightstand to grab the lube and a condom. He drops the items next to Eddie, and the man gives an “Oh shit!” as he grabs the tube. “You actually have lube?” 
“Uh, I'm a grown man, Eddie. Not some 15-year-old that still uses lotion to jack off.”
Eddie rolls his eyes and smacks the bottle against Steve's chest. “Twenty-four hours ago you told me you were straight, excuse me for making some assumptions.”
“Stereotypical assumptions,” Steve tacks on and Eddie rolls his eyes again harder. “Also you might be surprised to learn this, but some women also enjoy anal, so I'm not actually a complete newbie when it comes to this.”
“And here I was thinking I'd have to hold your hand through the whole thing.”
Steve huffs a laugh and slicks up his fingers. “Oh, do you not want to hold hands while I fuck you into the mattress?”
Eddie gasps and brings a hand to his forehead, like a mockery of some swooning maiden as he says “Why Stevie, I think that's the most romantic thing you've said so- ohhh my god.” He groans as Steve pushes the finger deeper, and kicks his shoulder gently when Steve just grins.
“Shut the fuck up,” Eddie spits, but Steve can tell there's no real heat behind it. He just hums, says “I dunno what you're talking about,” as he slides a second in alongside the first. He hooks his free hand under Eddie’s knee and pushes it closer to his chest, exposing him a bit more. 
Steve leans down to press a kiss to Eddie’s neglected dick and curls his fingers at the same time, trying to hit Eddie’s prostate. He knows he’s successful when hands jerk down, sinking into his hair once more as Eddie keens.
“Shit, Stevie-!” 
“Wanna suck you off next time. Wanna pin your hips to the bed and see how much I can take, wanna tease you until you come on my face, in my mouth.”
Eddie shudders and nods, bucks his hips as best he can with Steve’s fingers in him. “Oh fuck, yes. Gonna let me paint your face, baby? Gonna let me be the first cock to fuck that pretty mouth?”
Steve groans a “Fuck yeah, Eds,” and pushes in a third finger, eager to finish his prep but not wanting to rush. He spreads his fingers wide as he leans in again, sinking his teeth into the junction where thigh meets groin, and Eddie's entire body jerks at the bit of pain.
He tugs at Steve's hair, trying to pull him up as he says “Fuck! That's gotta be good enough, need you in me fucking last week, sweetheart.”
Steve shudders and nods with a “Yeah, baby,” as he pulls his fingers free. He stands up and strips off his remaining clothes, not worrying about where they land before he climbs back between Eddie's legs. He can feel Eddie watching as he rolls on the condom, and he's about to make a remark about it when the man says “You know what kind of sucks?”
Steve just hums in response as he scoots closer, until his thighs are pressed against Eddie's ass and all he has to do is push forward just a little more-
“That we’ll have to get tested before we can put my ability to not get pregnant to good use.”
A groan rips through Steve and he drops his head back at the mental image that creates. “Fuck, you can’t just say that.”
Eddie grins, all Cheshire and taunting as he says “Oh, I can’t? I can’t tell you how excited I am for you to come in me, to fill up my ass until I’m fucking leaking- mmh!”
Steve dives down to shut him up with a kiss before he can say anything else, and he can feel Eddie laughing into it. Arms wrap around Steve’s shoulders, holding him close as they take a moment to just make out, all slick and languid like they're not both on the verge of desperation. Steve wraps a hand around his dick and blindly rubs the head against Eddie’s hole before he finally pushes forward.
Even after prep, Eddie is tight, and Steve groans as he slowly sinks in, not stopping until his hips are flush with Eddie’s ass. He rubs his hands over Eddie’s sides as he just waits there, giving the man a chance to adjust. It only takes a moment before Eddie gives a soft “Okay, I'm good,” and Steve holds good on his word. He leans forward, lacing his fingers with Eddie's and pressing them into the bed as he starts a slow pace.
Eddie goes all starry-eyed as he glances at their joined hands, and mutters “Didn't think you were serious about that.”
“I don't joke about hand holding, Eds. It's very important.” That pulls a soft laugh from Eddie and Steve leans closer until he can kiss that smile, can taste the laugh at its source.
It's hands down the best sex Steve has ever had. Eddie is so responsive, all noisy and twitchy and eager. He quickly figures out what Steve likes and doesn't even attempt to keep his mouth shut, just offers a stream of encouragement that’s only broken when Steve finds and abuses that sweet spot inside him.
“Right there, Eddie? Is that it, baby?”
“Uh-huh, fuck, so good!”
Eddie's a fucking vision, with his brown curls slowly escaping the confines of the bun and his eyes glazed over in pleasure. Steve releases Eddie's hands and slides his own down to clutch at the man's slim waist, his fingers digging into the tattoos decorating his skin. He fantasizes about leaving bruises, about leaving his own mark alongside the black ink and fucks into him harder at just the idea. 
“Shit, Stevie! Gonna come, gonna-”
Eddie gets a hand around his dick and barely gets in a few strokes before he’s coming, a loud “Fuckfuckfuck!” escaping him as he spills over his hand and onto his stomach. It’s so fucking hot, and Steve’s hands tighten around Eddie's waist at the sight. His thrusts are a bit wild as he chases his own orgasm, and all it takes is Eddie's reedy “In me, Steve, give it to me-” before it hits him like a fucking truck. 
He doesn't remember the last time he came this hard, his hips grinding against Eddie's ass as he fills the condom before eventually collapsing down onto the other man. They just lay there for a moment, waiting for their highs to settle and their breathing to return to normal, and Steve smiles when Eddie starts to giggle.
“What's that about?” he asks, using the opportunity to press a few kisses along the line of Eddie's shoulder and neck. The man just grins and shakes his head.
“I haven't bottomed in like- three years. Forgot how good it feels.”
That surprises Steve a bit, actually. “Three years? And you just break that streak for some random person you met on the internet?”
“Mhm. You sent me those messages and I was like ‘Wow, I can't believe I'm gonna let this guy fuck me’.”
Steve laughs and nips at Eddie's shoulder. After a few minutes he carefully pulls out and reluctantly leaves Eddie on the bed as he goes to the bathroom to trash the condom and grab a wet hand towel. He cleans Eddie up before tossing the cloth to the floor and laying down beside him. He's instantly wrapped up in Eddie's arms and he sighs happily as they huddle close together.
“Stay the night? I'll make you breakfast in the morning,” Steve offers, and Eddie hums into his temple. 
“With coffee?”
“With coffee.”
Another hum before Eddie nuzzles into his hair, and Steve can feel Eddie press a kiss to the crown of his head. “Then I'd love to stay the night, Stevie.”
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Steve wakes up slowly the next morning. The sun shining through the window bathes the room in golden light, making Eddie look ethereal where he lays curled into Steve’s side. He takes a moment to just watch the man, to admire the relaxed lines of Eddie’s face as he slumbers on, unaware.
He doesn’t know the last time he felt a connection with someone this- profound. 
Actually, no - the last time this happened was probably with Robin, the girl who became something closer to him than a sister, the one person who probably knows him better than he knows himself. Being with Eddie feels so similar to those early days with Robin - after they’d gotten locked in the bathroom during a mall fire, not the actual early days when Robin seemingly hated him.
So Steve knows deep in his soul that there’s something about Eddie. Something so special ingrained into his very existence, and Steve’s sure that, if he just gives it a chance, Eddie could change his life.
After a few more minutes of basking in the morning silence, he tries to slip out of bed without waking Eddie, but he knows he’s failed when the arms just tighten around him. Eddie groans out a “Noooo,” and Steve grins. He presses a kiss to Eddie’s hair and says “Gotta let me go if you want me to make your coffee.”
A muffled “Man of my dreams,” as Eddie releases him has Steve chuckling as he climbs out of bed. He throws on a pair of sweatpants and heads downstairs, and puts on some coffee before he does anything else. By the time Eddie joins him, dressed only in his boxers from the night before, the coffee is ready and Steve is stacking pancakes onto a couple of plates. 
Eddie seems more awake as he wraps his arms around Steve, pressing a quick kiss to his shoulder along with a soft “Morning, sweetheart.”
“Morning, baby. Coffee’s on the counter, sugar’s in the jar and milk is in the fridge if you want it.”
Another kiss meets his skin, this one just below his ear, before Eddie is pulling away. Steve finishes plating the pancakes while Eddie makes his coffee, and they converge at the kitchen island. They eat mostly in silence, but it's not uncomfortable. It's easy, actually, to let the quiet settle around them like a warm blanket. But that doesn't mean Steve's thoughts aren't racing.
“So, uh.” Steve pauses, feels almost bashful as he looks up at Eddie. “It's been a really, really long time since I've felt a connection like this, and I may be a little dumb, but I'm not an idiot.” Eddie frowns at Steve's little self deprecating dig, but doesn't say anything as he continues. “I really want to see where this goes, if you're up for it.”
A slow grin breaks out on Eddie's face and he leans in, getting into Steve's personal space. “Why Stevie. Are you asking me to be your boyfriend? After only one date?”
Steve huffs a laugh and slides a hand up to the base of Eddie's neck, feeling and tangling his fingers with the soft hair there. “I’d ask you right now to move in if it wouldn't make me look fucking insane.”
Eddie's expression instantly goes slack with shock, and fuck, Steve's done it again, hasn't he? Said too much, too soon, and lost something good before it even had a chance to go anywhere. He starts to pull away, wanting to give Eddie some space, but he's stopped by two hands settling on his waist, practically clutching the bare skin.
“My lease is up for renewal in three months,” Eddie says, and Steve blinks in surprise. “So maybe at that point we can see where we are? Because you're right. I don't think I've ever just clicked with someone like this before. It feels like- like fucking destiny or something. And I also really, really want to see where this goes.”
Steve gives in to the urge to pull Eddie forward into a kiss. It’s intense and passionate and a bit sticky, the maple syrup making their lips tacky and causing Eddie to giggle into Steve's mouth.
They’re interrupted by the sound of Steve’s phone ringing with a video call, and he knows who it is before he even looks at the device. He answers with a “Morning, Robin,” and is met with a manic “You’ll never guess what happened this morning!”
“I would hope something with Chrissy, but I’m guessing it’s something with Vickie-”
“Vickie called! Jack fucking proposed to her last night!”
Oh shit. “And she said..?”
“They’re on good terms right now, so of course she said yes!”
Steve takes a sip of coffee and hums. “Sounds like it’s time for you to put on some big girl panties and ask Chrissy out on a real date.”
“Steven, you know I hate that word.”
“I will record it and set it as your ringtone if you don’t make some kind of move, Robin. Before Chrissy gets tired of waiting for you to make a decision and makes one herself.”
She groans pathetically and Steve watches her scrub a hand over her face. “I hate it when you make sense. Can we stop talking about me, please? Distract me with something else.”
“Oh, well, uh,” Steve glances up at Eddie who has been watching the interaction with an amused smile. His heart swells with affection and he blurts out “I have a boyfriend.”
Eddie beams at him as Robin blinks, most likely processing before she says “You just told me yesterday that your dating life was practically nonexistent, and now you have a boyfriend? How did that happen?? And moreover, how long have you liked men??”
She sounds incredulous - rightfully so, honestly - and Steve shrugs. “At least twenty-four hours, but it could realistically be closer to something like thirty-six. I downloaded a dating app the night before last and met Eddie on it. We went on a date last night, he stayed over, and I asked him to be my boyfriend this morning.”
“You asked me to move in this morning,” Eddie says, and Robin must catch it because she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. 
“You’re gonna put every U-haul lesbian in this city to shame,” she mutters before looking at Steve again. “Are you not like- freaking out? I mean, in the near decade I’ve known you, you’ve only dated girls, and now you’re dating a guy? Just like that?”
Steve shrugs and reaches out to take one of Eddie’s hands. “I guess so. You know I’ve always been a roll with the punches kinda guy. And Eddie is- Special. He’s special.”
Eddie is looking at him with those big, brown eyes, wide and a bit awestruck, and Steve can’t resist reeling him close for a quick kiss.
“I am so happy for you,” Robin says, pulling Steve’s attention back to his phone, “but also incredibly upset because now I know I have to follow your advice about Chrissy. Which is just absolutely terrifying.”
“You should have been listening from the beginning. Seriously though, go get your girl, Rob. You deserve to be happy.”
They say their goodbyes after another moment and Steve focuses back on Eddie. “Did you have anything to do today?” he asks as he collects their empty plates and takes them to the sink. Eddie follows, draining the last of his coffee before he replies “Not today. Why, did you have something to do?”
Steve grins and takes Eddie’s mug, setting it on the counter before he scoops the man into his arms. “Other than you?”
Eddie barks a laugh at the line and shakes his head fondly. “Jesus Christ, how did I get my hands on such a dork?”
“Just lucky, I guess,” Steve replies, and tugs Eddie into another sticky kiss. 
Much love to @bramble-berries for brainstorming this with me! (Even if she didn't know it at the time lol.) Also thank you to @sidekick-hero for cheerleading me through the last bit of writing on this! You're an absolute dear! <3
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ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 2 months
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Can i request a hotch fic where he and reader had a fight but they cant sleep if the one isnt in bed with them so they end up cuddling and its just fluff🥰
fem!plus size reader, wc: 525.
a/n: i really hope that you guys can feel the playful and kind of "crack-fic" undertones that are in this fic because i felt like back to back angst might kill me! 😭
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You really needed to stop being impulsive when you were mad.
You attempted to shift off of the loose spring in the sofa that was digging into your back, but reigned unsuccessful because another one just ended up digging into your shoulder.
Now that you were lying here and had time to reflect on the course of tonight's events, you realize that you may have acted a little ridiculous.
You and Aaron didn't really fight a lot. Sure there were arguments or light bickering here and there, but that wasn't anything unexpected to come from two lovers.
But this total fucking blowout takes the cake.
It started over nothing really, the wrong comment on the wrong night; which then turned into nitpicking and finding anything to argue about until someone's feelings got hurt. Those feelings being yours obviously.
So, you dramatically snatched a pillow and blanket off of your shared bed and stormed out into the living room, loudly announcing that you were sleeping on the couch tonight.
That had been an hour ago.
You missed your boyfriend even though he was literally in the room across from yours. You could apologize yes, but if you were going to be honest, you were embarrassed by how immature you were.
You groaned, slapping your hands over your eyes and rubbing them in frustration.
You should have known better than to do this, because it was basically an acknowledgement between Aaron and you that you guys had a hard time sleeping without the other. It slipped your mind in the heat of the moment!
As if he had read your mind, you heard the bedroom door open.
“Honey?”
You could hear the tiredness in his voice and it had almost made you tear up, but ever the stubborn woman, you turned over onto your side with an exaggerated huff.
It was silent for a moment before you heard the slight cracking of his knees, and the light thumping of his feet. The blanket that was splayed over your body was lifted, and you jolted in surprise.
Aaron had tucked himself as far into your back as humanly possible, forcing you to move forward a bit so he wouldn't fall over the edge and onto the floor. He rested his head in the crease of your neck and shoulder, throwing a large arm over your mid section and intertwining his legs with yours.
Oh, he was using your weakness against you.
“Sweetheart, I'm sorry.” Aaron mumbled.
You grumble a bit before sighing and gripping his hand resting on your stomach.
“I'm sorry too.”
“I didn't mean to freak out on you. It's just, I'm just stressed with my job and-” You cut him off. “Aaron baby, my heart, my soul and the love of my life. I mean this when I say that it's fine. I didn't act all that rationally either.”
He places a kiss on the naked skin of your neck, the sensation causing butterflies to swarm in your belly.
“It's okay. I just want to go to bed. Will you come with me?”
“Of course… but I'm the little spoon.”
He chuckles lovingly, “Of course.”
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goobtopia · 4 months
Text
crime and punishment [farleigh start]
!! 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT !!
based on this request
summary: after a dinner party at saltburn you confront your long time friend, farleigh, about his odd behavior surrounding felix’s new friend from oxford.
warnings: 18+, SMUT, f!reader, (kinda) p*rn without plot, kissing, praise kink, mentions of p in v sex, thigh riding, nipple play, dom!farleigh, wealthy reader, mention of bullying, swearing, farleigh is both mean and whiny you’ve been warned
[requests are open]
☆ masterlist ☆
-
“Are you gonna tell me what’s wrong or keep giving me the silent treatment?” You crossed your arms in the entryway of Farleigh’s room. He refused to look up from his Dostoevsky summer reading or give you any kind of acknowledgment.
You sighed, finally entering the room so you could sit at the edge of his bed making sure to shut the door behind you. With you facing him and your legs tucked under your body, he obviously couldn’t focus on the passage enough to continue reading so he sighed, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” This was classic Farleigh, so upset or so angry that he’d just shut it down instead. It was something of a compliment you guessed, when Farleigh didn’t care to hurt anyone with his words informed by his loathing his insults were quick and harsh. I once watched him send Gavey crying in the quad after spilling coffee on his lecture notes and heard he was in and out of the school counseler’s office after that.
“If this is about earlier…” You trailed off, unknowingly hitting the nail on the head for Farleigh and you jumped when his hard cover book made a deafening crack as it closed. “No, why would I be upset about earlier? It’s not like everyone has been up Oliver’s ass all semester, so much so that you take his side and make me look like a jackass in front of everybody.” He was calm, spoke in a sickly sweet voice as the book was discarded near his pillows.
You never pulled punches with Farleigh, he knew this, which is why he shouldn’t have been so surprised when you defended your actions, “Farleigh you made yourself look like an ass, like when everyone stopped laughing because it was literally painful to watch.” He ran a hand over his khaki colored corduroy pants, his fingers adorned with expensive silver rings, as he rested his ear against his shoulder. A sign he was licking his wounds after you walked out to check on Oliver leaving him alone to sing the rest of his shitty song.
“You get so… prideful around him, like you’re trying to prove something. I’ve never seen you like this.” The way Farleigh kept attacking Oliver was far from his usual pettiness, no Farleigh was always quick but even the butt of his jokes would find themselves laughing about it eventually. Here it was like he was taking everything just a step too far, you didn’t understand how Oliver got under his skin so badly.
Sure, he didn’t come from your world but it wasn’t like he was being a nuisance, there was no reason in your mind to embarrass him by picking a song for him that Farleigh was sure Oliver didn’t know. “Well, he’s a fucking creep. He’s sneaking around with Venetia and he’s cozying up to you lately, he had you using his lap as a couch coushin in there.” He looked disgusted by the thought.
You hadn’t thought anything of it honestly, if Venetia was settled in her brother’s lap in a platonic fashion you figured it was all in the spirit of the night. The closeness and camaraderie we found amongst yourselves in these nights, that was like tradition to you. “Farleigh…” You trailed in a tone reeking of disappointment in one of your best friends, “What? You don’t think so?” He quipped.
Your silence spoke for itself and he scoffed, “Well then you’re a fucking idiot.” Your voice, while not loud, cut through the air like a knife, “Hey. You do not speak to me like that.” You pointed your finger, straightening your back out. Next thing you know he’s pinning you down by your thighs, using this new leverage to lean into your face.
“What are you gonna do about it? Run and tell poor little orphan Ollie?” He nodded, silently coaxing an answer from you. “You’re being mean Farleigh.” You whisper, showing weakness for a moment not even thinking about the fact your friend doesn’t ever touch you like this. Somehow, it’s the least of your worries.
With a heaving chest he looks down at your lips, focusing in on them as they draw into a tight line with the silence. “I wouldn’t be so mean if you hadn’t been,” His tongue runs over his bottom lip. “…misbehaving.” You lost the ability to breathe for a moment, suddenly forced to face the lines that were most definitely being crossed. This was uncharted territory for the both of you.
One hand came up to your face, pressing his thumb lightly into the center of your chin making sure to slowly bring it up and gauge your reaction. His knuckle hooked over your bottom lip until the pad of his thumb grazed the wetness of your tongue. You closed your mouth around it instantly, earning a groan from the tall boy towering over you.
Swiftly he removed himself, pocketing his hands under your thighs and throwing your weight on top of his so you were open for him across the thick muscle of his leg. “You gonna be good for me?” You nodded, bracing yourself on his shoulders. “Yes, I am.” You said without hesitation, some new fire ignited you craved to fuel.
You were pulled by the nape of your neck to meet his lips in a fervent kiss pressing your whole body against his. Lips slid against each other as they danced in harmony, tongues exploring one another as you began grinding your hips against him hoping to relieve some of the pressure building in your core.
His free hand locked onto your hip to stall any movement as he pulled away from you, “Take it easy babe, just let me touch you.” You could’ve melted right there, his hand traveled up your nightgown and grazed over the seam on the side of your panties. “Oh really?” He sounded almost proud in his surprise at your lack of pants.
He explored further, reaching up to your right breast and grazing his nail against your nipple. Your hips stuttered involuntarily, amusement written on his face as he watched your face screw in pleasure. “F-fuck” Your voice cracked, feeling that stimulation go straight to your core.
“You gonna let me have a taste?” He pouted, twisting the nipple in between his fingers leaving you breathless and desperate for more. “Yes, fuck, please just put your mouth on me.” You whined, and Farleigh didn’t need to be asked twice. Your gown was ripped from your body leaving you in just a little pair of panties and nothing aside from your stark nakedness.
Of course, he had to take a moment to admire your body, so soft and beautiful, like unwrapping a gift he’s always yearned for. “Farleigh, please.” Your voice sounded pathetic almost, but you were worried if either one of you paused for too long you’d come to your senses and stop. And empty fear seeing as it would probably take an act of god to seperate the two of you at this moment.
“Shut up, I wanna see what you’ve been hiding from me all these years.” His hands explored practically every inch of you, his eyes grazing against your stomach, your breasts, you thighs. He couldn’t stop imagining what your hips might look like settled on top of his own, stuffed to the brim with his cock.
He couldn’t wait anymore, he unbuckled his silver and black belt, letting it hit the floor somewhere before jimmying them halfway off all with you in his lap. Now your sex was making indirect contact with a small sliver of his skin between his boxers and pants. “I’m gonna spend some time with these,” He began to explain, giving each breast a squeeze. “But you’re gonna get off on my thigh before I do anything else. Understand?” You nodded with confidence, hiding your dissapointment in him. All you wanted was for him to be inside you, tending to that most sensitive part of you and he was making you do it yourself.
But you could give him a show, make him so insatiable he’d have no choice but to turn you over and fuck you after seeing the way you grind into that muscle. “Yes, I understand. I’ll be good for you.” You cooed in your most sultry voice. It must’ve been an effective plan because his head dipped to tend to you almost instantly.
With lips and teeth scratching against the sensitive skin of your nipple, you felt like you were going crazy. You didn’t need to be reminded of you task because your hips did all the work for you at the feeling he provided. It was like your breasts had a direct line to your clit, making any friction against it double in intensity.
Your hips weren’t thrashing against him by any means but you were still racing to reach that high, something Farleigh helped along by bouncing his thigh against you. Farleigh switched breasts, leaving a free hand to guide your motions along him in frustration. “God I can’t wait to fuck you.” He humbled against your chest, “Been so good for me, haven’t you? My good girl.”
You barely registered the words, not that it would’ve changed anything. If being Farleigh’s good girl meant pleasure like this you didn’t care.
You were getting closer, mumbling harder as you threw your head back in pleasure. Farleigh could barely make out any of your words besides: fuck, please, so close; he guessed he didn’t need the details. He grabbed the middle fabric of your panties, pulling them to the side so your clit was bare and began to catch onto Farleigh’s boxers, creating a new devilish form of friction against that bundle of nerves.
“I’m gonna cum.” Your voice was light and broken. It had come embarrassingly fast but with Farleigh’s tongue flicking against the second most sensitive bundle of nerves, there was no way you could’ve helped it. No doubt it was boosting Farleigh’s ego, something that was far from necessary.
He lifted his head, keeping one hand aimed at the pleasure points on your chest, “Look at me. I wanna see that look in your eyes.” You sped up, keeping eyes contact with him as your jaw felt slack and that impossibly tight knot in your core finally broke, letting pleasure avalanche over your senses. Farleigh kept on you with that look of amusement at how quickly you came undone through his own manipulation.
You sadly clenched around nothing as your legs shook a bit and you slowly rode out the high, not wanting to keep the same pace now that you were so sensitive. Farleigh pulled you into another kiss, this one deeper but more sensual than before. There was no rush now, neither of was going anywhere.
“Fuck you’re never leaving this bed.” He confessed between kisses, promising you this wasn’t just a one-off thing. “Not until I’m finished with you.”
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romantichomicide95 · 5 months
Text
no nut november
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pairing: satoru gojo x reader
notes: bringing this back for no nut november. technically a repost except i changed some of it and tweaked it to my liking.
warnings: nsfw. masturbation. oral. p in v. multiple positions. a lot of reader teasing gojo. slight dom!gojo. cumming in mouth. etc etc.
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“Baby, please go sit over there.” Gojo begs. You were both sitting on the couch in his apartment, having your weekly date night/movie night. You were sitting shoulder to shoulder until your boyfriend practically whines at you to move.
“You’re distracting me baby.” He whines. “You look way to sexy tonight. You’re killing me. Why are dressed so fucking hot on movie night anyway. It’s torture.”
See your boyfriend, Satoru Gojo, the cocky, overconfident(maybe earned confidence) man he was thought he would try the No Nut November challenge. Something he probably saw scrolling online, something so many men try to accomplish. You thought it was quite silly, sex was good…it was healthy, but he insisted he could do it. “I can do anything. I’m Satoru Gojo. I’m the best at everything. Anything I put my mind to I can do perfectly.” Okay, maybe he didn’t quite say it like that…but that’s certainly how it sounded at the time.
Unfortunately for you though, that meant no sex. No nothing really, he said he couldn’t touch you sexually or he’d give in. He’d kiss you, but that was it. No fingering, no eating you out. Just kissing. Which meant all you’ve done the past 2 weeks is makeout. You were aching. Full on body aching with the way you missed his cock….and you knew he was too. So tonight you decided to put on your shortest skirt, your cute little lacy panties, no bra and a shirt that was just a little bit low and just a little bit too sheer. Nipples visible through the fabric, just enough to drive him crazy.
“Toru seriously? I’m not doing anything.” You say innocently…Course, that was a lie. You knew what you were doing, you were not innocent in your seduction at all. But, you wanted him, you were aching to feel the way his cock slammed into your pussy, the way his tongue flicked against your clit, the way he grabbed your ass as you rock your hips back and forth whenever you sat on his cock. Sex with Gojo was almost addictive, and you’d been without for too long.
So here you were, doing the opposite of nothing. Doing your very best at trying to turn him on. Sure you were only sitting shoulder to shoulder, but the way you were slyly reaching over him to grab popcorn making sure he got a good view of your tits; or the way you were holding his hand and carefully placed it right at the sweet spot between your thigh and your cunt. He was right, you were distracting him. And it was purposeful.
He pauses the movie and fully turns to you. His blue eyes piercing through you, sometimes you thought his six eyes could read your thoughts by the way they bore into you. “Not doing anything my ass. Please baby, you’re tempting me. I’m trying to do a challenge remember?” He gives you his best attempt at a puppy dog face.
“Yes Satoru. I remember.” you say rolling your eyes, your hand makes it’s way to his thigh, hovering right over the fabric of his sweatpants, inching closer and closer to where his cock rests. “I’m not doing anything, we’re just watching a movie.” you say innocently blinking your eyelashes at him as your hand finally rests directing on his cock through the fabric.
“First of all it’s Toru or baby. Second of all what exactly do you call this then?” he says both hands motioning to where your hand lay still.
“Okay TORU, and I’m literally just sitting here baby. Whatever do you mean?” You still play innocent as you start to rub his cock over the fabric of his pants.
“Baby, come on. You’re being such a fucking tease. Go sit over there you’re killing me here.” He whines, though he hasn’t moved an inch. He’s much taller than you, much stronger yet he hasn’t removed your hand from his growing erection. Instead, he’s subconsciously opened his legs just that little bit that gives you more access.
“Oh, I’m sorry baby. You want me to sit somewhere else?.” You climb over him, lifting your skirt and placing yourself on his lap, face to face, one leg on either side. You start to pepper his neck with kisses, blowing softly into his ear.
He sucks in a breathe. “Ahh…babe.” Is all he can muster out. He throws his head back, all the pent up energy inside him wants to come out, it’s begging. Your lips make their way to his, and he kisses you hungrily, chasing your pretty plump lips when you break away.
“We can still kiss Toru… that’s what you said.” You say as you start grinding your hips onto his lap, feeling his his hardened length between your legs. The heat coming from you is almost too much to bare. The way his hard cock feels against your panties causes a light moan to escape your lips. Your pussy aches to feel him, any part of him really, you needed to be touched.
“This isn’t just kissing... God you’re such a fucking tease baby.” He’s grinding himself up into you at this point, his big hands grasping firmly at your hips, nails practically digging into your skin. You lift your shirt over your head and watch as his focus falls to your tits, wanting to taste them. Touch them.
You slow the rhythm of your grinding even further. Making his cock twitch. “Yeah baby, want me to stop? M’ so wet for you Toru, want you so bad.” you whisper seductively in his ear. You sit up slightly to pull his sweatpants down just enough to pull his which he doesn’t make any movements stop, before taking your place back on his lap. “I need you Toru.” You inch back so he has a full view of your body, his hands still firmly grasping your hips. Cock rock solid. He’s taking you in, your perfect body. He’s drunk off your words. His cock is throbbing at every whisper in his ear, watching the sight of you sitting so pretty on his lap, begging for him. You slide two of your fingers into your panties, letting out a small moan as you rub your aching clit. “Baby you really gunna make me fuck myself?”You moan, voice shaky with need. You don’t take your eyes off him as he watches you rub your clit.
He bites his lip, eyes focused directly between your legs. He’s had enough of your games. “Fuck... Is this what you want?” He asks as he rips your underwear off you, groaning low in his throat as he takes in the sight of your wet, swollen folds. Without another breathe, he pushes his hips up, rubbing the head of his cock against your slick, teasing you with the feeling. He kisses your lips, breaking free to whisper in your ear “God you drive me crazy,such a little slut for me, tell me how bad you want me again.”
“Toru need it, I n-need you inside me.”
“Yeah? This pretty pussy wants me huh pretty girl.” he says as he pumps his hips up, driving his cock inside you. He plunges into the plush wetness of your perfect little hole, filling you up deeper with each stroke. His eyes narrows as he watches the way your tits bounce as you ride his fat cock.
“Y-yes Toru. Mmm’ missed your cock.” you moan into his ear. Bouncing up and down in his lap. His cock fills you up nicely, the way he thrusts his hips up in rhythm with yours. “God Toru f-feel s’ good, don’t s-stop.” You moan, throwing your head back in ecstasy as his mouth makes its way to your tits. His tongue circles around the hardened nipple, before taking it between his lips. His hands are so firm on your ass you’re sure his fingers will leave marks from the way they dig into the plump flesh.
He flips you over, so effortlessly until he’s right above you, you pull his shirt over his head running one hand down his chest as he lifts your legs up over his shoulder. He drills his cock into your wet hole, deep enough to hit your cervix, causing whimpers out of your mouth. Your nails dig into his back as he pumps faster and faster. One hand reaches in between you to massage your clit.
He shoves his fingers in your mouth, gagging you. “You like the way you taste sweetheart?” he says before grabbing your neck, slightly squeezing as he pounds into you.
You feel small tears brimming at your eyelashes, whimpers still escaping your lips. He’s fucking you so hard, it feels intoxicating. You’re drunk off the way he feels against your walls.
“You wanted this so bad, fucked my challenge all up. Now your taking me so well, god your so tight. Fuck.” His lips make there way down your body, leaving a trail of bite marks and sloppy kisses.
“I’m gun-gunna c-cum Toru.” you moan as you reach climax, loadly moaning as you cover his cock in your slick juices. He watches as your eyes roll to the back of your head, back arching, head thrown back. “Fuck, such a good girl cummins’ on my cock.” He says before pulling out of you. “Open.” He commands and as you do so he lowers himself down to fill your mouth up with his cock. “Do you like the way you taste princess?” he asks as he begins to fuck your face, your tongue running circles around his cock. Gagging slightly. One hand jacking what you can’t fit in your mouth.
“Come on baby, you wanted this. Answer me.” He says as his thumb comes down to wipe a stray tear from your cheek.
“Mhhmmm” you manage to mumble, tongue licking around his hard length.
“Shit. You t-take me so good baby. Almost there.” He says, he hands gripping the arm of the couch. Knuckles white as he feels the flat of your tongue against his cock.
“C-cumming. fu’ swallow it all.” he demands, his eyes focused on the way you suck at the tip, drinking every drop, tongue swirling delicately around it.
He collapses on your chest, both your naked bodies entangled together. Heavy breathing and tiny kisses to your chest and your neck. Body numb, pussy feeling raw.
“Fuck. There goes no nut November.” Gojo says with a laugh, still out of breathe, standing up to pull his sweatpants back on. After you do the same, he pulls you into his lap and you let out a chuckle. “I’m not even sorry.” you say with a smirk. “Now let’s finish our movie yeah?”
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love-belle · 11 months
Text
no comment !!!
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which they finally reveal their shared life.
or
for when you got really lucky with your love. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
social media au // carlos sainz jr. x fem!reader
warnings - language
author's note - hello!! i can't stop making these lmfao but fr these are so fun to write, i love them!! i really hope u like this, thank you for reading <3 i think, emphasis on think, that i will be able to post a pierre gasly social media au tonight along with part i of a max verstappen one so yeah, keep an eye out. i love you, hope you're okay <3
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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liked by lewishamilton, carmenmmundt, carlossainz55 and 985,517 others
yourusername people ask how long have i loved u, no comment
tagged carlossainz55
8,962 comments
username SHUT UO SHIT UP SHIT UP SHUT UP OMG
username OH MY GOD?????? WHAT??????
username her using her own song to hard launch her man is so iconic of her
username THIS IS WHAT I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR AGAHSJKAKSNAKA
landonorris fucking finally
-> yourusername props to carlos for convincing me 🙏
username "no comment" MA'AM WE NEED ANSWERS
username im vrying omg whag yje fjxk
lewishamilton the best couple ❤️
*liked by yourusername*
username what the duck i lo e them so mucj omh
username he's so pretty omg
carlossainz55 te amo ❤️
-> yourusername te amo mi amor ❤️
carlossainz55 loved you for a thousand lifetimes probably
-> yourusername carlos i will cry i love you :/
username they're so parents whatcthefucj
username RUE WHEN WAS THIS
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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liked by yourusername, landonorris, yourbestfriend and 964,528 others
carlossainz55 how i got you honey, even i don't understand
tagged yourusername
9,146 comments
username THE WAY "the party" BY Y/N IS LITERALLY THEIR SONG OMG
username HIM QUOTING HIS GIRL'S SONG I COULD CRY
username gone deceased six feet under decomposed decaying
charles_leclerc will you finally stop calling me at 3am ranting about how much you love y/n???
-> carlossainz55 no x
username MOTHER
username she eats everytime
username can carlos fight question mark
danielricciardo chihuahua energy in the second pic
-> yourusername WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN
-> carlossainz55 no no i get what you're saying
username THE WAY I SCREAMED
lilymhe the only thing i like abt u is ur gf
-> yourusername my love ❤️
-> carlossainz55 can't believe you because same
username he's down BAD bad
username this acc will turn into a y/n fanpage and i will eat up every second of it
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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liked by carlossainz55, pierregasly, lilymhe and 947,816 others
yourusername i know how lucky i am
tagged carlossainz55
9,146 comments
username GOODBYE.
username LITERAL PARENTS NOW OMG
username STOP THEY'RE GONNA BE SUCH GOOD PARENTS
danielricciardo normal y/n is such a gem to deal with, can't wait for the pregnant version!! good luck mate!!
-> carlossainz55 thank you brother, i will be needing it 🙏
-> yourusername these comments are public and you're on the couch tonight.
username CARLOS AS A DAD I CANNOT
username im so 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
username THIS IS INSANEEEE LIKE WE DIDN'T EVEN KNOW THEY WERE DATING BEFORE YESTERDAY AND NOW THEY'RE GONNA BE PARENTS LIKEEE
landonorris best godfather is here ❤️
-> charles_leclerc no
-> pierregasly no
-> lewishamilton no
-> maxverstappen1 no
-> danielricciardo no
username that baby is gonna be so blessed and loved
username stop im so happy for them sm
carlossainz55 i'm the one who got lucky, thank you for everything ❤️
-> yourusername gonna cry brb x
carlossainz55 i love you so much
-> yourusername my love for you grows everyday it's insane
username OH MY GOD SHJAKABDJAKANS
2K notes · View notes
ncteez · 10 months
Text
homewrecked. (j.ww)
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Wonwoo doesn’t seem to realize that you’re giving him the best option out of a relationship that doesn’t even involve you. With a cheating best friend on one side, and a loyal Wonwoo loving her from two hours away on another, you decide that home wrecking isn’t always a bad idea.  or the one where wonwoo fights internal demons over wanting you bc he’s in a relationship that he doesn’t even realize is falling apart.
ao3 | m.lists | leave feedback and reblog to give wonwoo a boner
minors do not interact. 
WORDCOUNT― 12k
PAIRING― wonwoo x afab reader
CONTENT― toxic relationships, fluffy sex?? like it’s very intimate
WARNINGS― infidelity, there’s some angst but it gets fixed with fucking, mentions of reader having tits that jiggle and she’s also shorter than him, alcohol consumption
NOTE― will i ever stop writing smut from his point of view? probably not. we love to know what a man is thinking while he’s balls deep. anyway, this ain’t proof read bye. 
smut tags under cut:: 
smut tags― big dick wonwoo, making out, leg humping lmao, finger fucking, oral [m receiving], “IT’S NOT FUCKING, IT’S MAKING LOVE!!!”, cliche “omg ur pussy was like, meant for me”, mating press position, unprotected sex, cream pie, he’s in love bro– 
~
Wonwoo didn’t know why he needed you so badly and the thoughts ate him up. Day after day, watching you dangle yourself in front of him like you don’t know he’s definitely not the type to take you up on the offer. 
The issue is that he would take up the fucking offer if you had done this five months ago before he entered into a long distance relationship with your best fucking friend. She moved out of town, and two hours wasn’t going to stop him from pursuing that relationship. You, however, you were definitely going to make him stop pursuing. Why? Because your best friend is a bitch, and it’s not like she hasn’t texted you about all of the dicks she’s been sucking since she left.
Why not give him the revenge he doesn’t know he needs? 
~
He can feel his eyes burning holes through that thin shirt you're wearing and at this point, it’s painful to try and pretend he doesn’t stare. Even more painful to pretend he’s being nonchalant about it each time you get a little too close to him, each time you bend over directly in front of him, and surely each time you decide not to wear a bra while wearing said thin shirt. 
He doesn’t understand why he keeps showing up for you. Before, it was because you were a mutual friend between him and his girlfriend. You were cool, laid back, and fun to hang out with. His girlfriend never seemed to mind when the two of you would hang out alone, then again that was quite a rare occasion before she moved away. Now though, hanging out with you seems to have far more intent behind it than just avoiding boredom on a weekend. Now, you appear to be more interested in what he has to say, what he looks like, how he’s feeling.
Wonwoo can’t quite pin point the moment in time where you started acting this way, but he sure as fuck can pin point the first day you seemed off around him. He thought he was thinking too hard, wondering why you knocked on his door on a cold December evening with no jacket on, but wonderful cleavage offering firm jiggles with each shiver. 
It got to the point that by the time spring hit, and he was still hanging out with you on the regular, that he was almost annoyed that the temperature got warmer. Sure, it was more of a reason for you not to wear clothes, but it doesn’t feel as intentional when you’re quite literally dressing for the weather.
Still, you’re here again. In his apartment, sprawled out on his couch with the remote in your hand as if this is your own space. You really do make yourself at home, a little too at home. No bra under that thin shirt, the air conditioning raising goosebumps on your skin and perking up your nipples each time you lift your arms up for a long and audible stretch for him to surely suffer over later. 
Hanging out with you shouldn’t feel like this, because he has a girlfriend.
“What do you want for dinner?” He asks from the kitchen, pretending that the two of you don’t seem like a couple on your own, as if he wasn’t just texting his actual girlfriend.
“Dunno,” You shrug, turning your head to look at him and noting his slow response of bringing his eyes from your tits to your face. “We should go out.”
His heart thumps heavily at those words but is very quick to realize that you’re absolutely not asking to be his girlfriend right now. 
“Huh?” He asks nonchalantly, averting his eyes back to his near-empty cabinets with a huff.
“Like, go out? To a bar? A restaurant? A club?”
He lets his arms fall from the cabinet as he closes it in defeat and makes his way to throw himself onto the couch next to you.
“You, of all people, should know I don’t go out anymore.” He retorts in a long sigh, averting to the fact that those are options for single men or couples that seek those kinds of experiences together. 
“Why not? She still goes out.”
The first secret is out, though you kind of assumed he knew already.
“Oh? Does she?” He asks, seemingly not too bothered. “That’s good, she deserves to go out and meet people considering she moves to a brand new city.” 
You nod in agreement, rolling your eyes up to look at his living room ceiling. 
“Come on, she knows I’d be there to fend off any girls trying to get in your pants.” You argue with him, or rather, you try to convince him. 
“And you plan to go looking like that?” He asks, turning his face to you and once again staring straight at the way your tits leave no room for imagination.
“Uh, yeah? It’s not like I'm the one under lock and key.”
He rolls his eyes at you but offers a small nod, standing to his feet and shuffling to his bedroom. 
“At least put on a jacket or something, I think it’s supposed to rain tonight.” 
You nod, smiling as you follow him to a room that should be off limits to you. Mostly pleased by the fact that you’re going out with Wonwoo alone, and surely you’re about to be wearing his jacket over the shirt you wore specifically for him to look at. 
~
You were right, you are wearing his jacket as you step past the security at the club. Shortly after the two of you left a small diner, you nearly thought he was going to have cold feet and not want to go, even after taking the time to fix his hair and wear a nice outfit. Thankfully, he didn’t. Thankfully, he’s right at your side appearing as nervous as he was the day he asked your best friend out. Thankfully, he looks like he’s here for you and not to be your wingman. 
“Lighten up, we’re just here to have fun.” 
He nods, looking at you and the way his jacket looks on you. It shouldn’t look so good, you shouldn’t look so good to him. He can’t help but feel like he’s crossing a line despite learning his girlfriend goes out quite often without so much as telling him about it. Even before he started dating her, it’s not like clubbing was his thing. He just went with you and his girlfriend, occasionally letting his own friends tag along to find some raunchy date for the night. 
“You’re right,” He nods again, encouraging himself. “Just gotta get in the mood of things I guess.”
You smile at him and pretend you heard what he just said over the bass of the music, and opt to point with your head toward the bar that holds a short line of people appearing to be ready to drink. He follows behind you, being led from a comfortable distance in a space that should force him up and against you. Consistently, you look back to make sure he hasn’t been lost in the crowd. To make sure he isn’t being grabbed at by all of the people who would surely want to pick him up tonight if they find him standing alone somewhere. 
He keeps the pace though, shoving up next to you by the bar so that you both can order your first drink of the night. All you can do is look at him briefly any chance you can get as the two of you wait.
He looks uncomfortable here, but incredibly handsome in the darkened room with the neon LED lighting flashing across his cheeks. You’ve seen him in lighting like this before, usually pressed up against your best friend, but now you feel as though he needs you here for comfort. Then again, he wouldn’t even be in this situation if it weren’t for you arguing that the two of you come here. 
Still, you know how he acts when the alcohol hits him, especially in a loud room full of hidden secrets that people are releasing without a single hint of fear. You have some secrets too, ones that you’ve felt bad for keeping, but in a way, it isn’t your job to tell him. 
The snide part of you likes seeing him take an interest in you. Someone so entirely loyal shouldn’t be caught up with someone like your best friend. You’re actually shocked he gave in so quickly to even come to this club with you, even more shocked at the way he continued to hang out with you despite your obvious attempts of seduction.
You started doing it a mere day after your “best friend” texted you a selfie, post-sex glow practically dripping out of her sleepy smile within another man’s bed. With an arm wrapped around her, one that did not belong to Wonwoo. You knew it wasn’t him, because she texted that shit the same day Wonwoo had his job interview.
He got that job, and part of you wonders if the excitement in your friend’s voice for him over the excited call he gave her later was really for him getting the job, or if it was because she had some really great sex with some non-boyfriend. Because of course you were at Wonwoo’s house helping him pick a professional outfit, of course you were there letting him recite the things he wanted to present at the interview. Of course that’s what you were doing, you helped him prepare and then waited around his place until he got back with the news. He’s your best friend’s boyfriend, and arguably, he was also your best friend by that point. 
After that, all respect for the relationship left you, and instantly you took matters into your own hands. Be there for him, be around him, be a friend to him, and of course, try to get revenge for him. Even if that meant using your own body because for some reason, you felt protective. You felt possessive.
Seeing the way he looks at you, even while being in a loyal relationship, is arguably pushing you past the boundary of just wanting revenge for him. You can see him argue with himself in his head, the doubt of why he’s looking at you this way, the doubt of why you’re doing this so suddenly. It’s attractive seeing him fight a loyalty that his own girlfriend doesn’t even give to him. It’s attractive to see him here, next to you, spouting out his drink order and looking at you briefly as if to tell you it’s your turn.
And you do order, feeling the fabric of his jacket rub against your naked arms, and the zipper occasionally stimulating your breast beneath the thin shirt. Wearing no bra has both pros and cons. The pros being, constant stimulation and Wonwoo keeping his eyes attached to you and telling on himself. The cons, the bar tender and every other fucking person in this club appear to also be staring. 
Thankfully, the two of you grab your drinks shortly after and head straight around the dance floor and scout out a small couch in the back. Small as in, a two person seater with a small table in front of it. It’s a lucky snag on a saturday night to find an empty spot that perfectly fits the two of you, but neither of you seem to be complaining. 
You sit down next to him, feeling the warmth of his arm radiating immense heat as his eyes travel the loud room of dancing bodies, his drink in a hand that appears to be trying not to tremble. 
“Why’re you so nervous?” You whisper yell at him, taking a thoughtful sip of your drink before leaning forward and bringing your head playfully in front of his line of sight. 
“Just kind of doesn’t feel right to be here without her, y’know?” He responds, taking his own thoughtful sip and grimacing at how strong the drink is. Still, he continues to sip as he watches you roll your eyes at him in a huff.
“Oh my god, could you be any further up her ass right now?”
He almost feels offended by that comment. Wanting her to be here is not considering being up her ass, if anything, it’s being a good boyfriend. You continue to spit sarcasm at him though, looking dissatisfied with how he’s acting.
“How come she can go out and have fun and you can’t? Here, look.” You say, pulling out your phone and snapping a quick selfie with him. “Watch, she won’t mind.” 
You immediately send the selfie straight to her, with the small comment of “he agreed to be my wingman for the night.” 
Instantly, she responds with a kissy emoji, wishing you luck on your dick-search. That’s it. That’s all she sends. Even you feel your heart drop a little for him at just how much she doesn’t seem to care considering he’s practically stroking out over the idea of being here. 
“See?” 
He nods, taking another drink from his cup and nodding even harder. Honestly feeling a bit better that she at least knows he’s here. Mostly because he didn’t even know how to tell her that he’s going out to a fucking club with her best friend. 
“I’m so lame, god.” He laughs at himself, practically downing his drink by now and staring into your also already emptied cup. “I’ll go get us more drinks?”
You nod with a devilish grin, watching how his nervousness completely disappears to that of a confident man, in a club, who would have no issue with rejecting every single person who tries something with him.
There’s one issue though. Like, you commend him for that loyalty and you knew this would be a difficult task but, what if he genuinely rejects you too? Surely not, because at the end of the day, you’re the one who knows what’s happening behind his back. 
Most people would at least tell him what’s going on before trying to seduce him, and in all fairness, you don’t know why you haven’t yet. You guess you’d rather have him cheat on her back, just to show her that he’s not going to sit here and wait on her like she’s expecting him to. 
How is she gonna find out? You don’t know. 
~
The night is good, rain dripping outside is easily drowned out by both the booming music and the loud laughter Wonwoo throws at you every few minutes from people watching. The two of you have barely moved from the love seat, but have continued to drink for hours now. At this point, you’re the one staring at him, and he doesn’t even seem to avert his eyes as he continues to drink. 
From your tits to your eyes, to his jacket draped over you, all the way down to your legs and the way you move closer and closer to him, up to the point you throw both legs over his lap and he instantly grabs onto them to hold them in place. 
Still, he’s laughing. Playing it off perfectly as if it’s not intimate, as if it’s not something he would avoid if he hadn’t already downed four drinks. 
“Wonwoo,” You ask, getting closer to his ear to avoid yelling. 
His voice booms back at you, still yelling. 
“Yeah?” He responds, turning his cheek to meet yours in this moment of close conversation. 
“You look really good tonight.,” You say directly into his ear, hoping he hears you as well as you hear yourself. You’re trying to tip-toe past a boundary, but it’s not like you’re lying. 
“What?” He responds again, gripping your legs a bit tighter as he leans closer to you, his other hand reaching to your head to hold your lips closer against his ear. He really didn’t hear you, but it feels– you don’t know. It feels like something. 
“I said, you look really good right now.” You half-laugh into his ear, and he responds with a soft chuckle before pulling away from you with a shake of his head. 
“You’re being dumb,” He laughs as he continues to shake his head. “You’re just saying that because you’re drunk.” 
“No, really,” You smile, playing it off much like he is. As if it’s a joke. Still, you crowd up to him again, lips right up against the shell of his ear and continue to sweet talk him. “She’s lucky, I’m a little jealous.” 
You don’t hear him, but you can practically feel his skin go cold at your words. He doesn’t move, and you can argue that he doesn’t breathe for a solid thirty seconds. Which is strange because it’s not like the comment couldn’t be taken a few different ways. It appears he’s finally let it click in his head though. Right now, at this moment. 
“Hm?” You continue against his ear. 
Finally, he pulls from you, standing to his feet and letting your legs fall from his lap. You watch him nearly lose his balance as he tries to pretend he’s totally being normal about this, and totally not drunk.
“I’m gonna go get us another drink.” He says before walking off and not letting you say another word.
That, he does. He brings back another drink and appears now to be keeping his distance from you. And you, of course, with the alcohol bubbling in your belly, feel a bit too bold and far too interested in what you’re trying to do right now.
“Did she even call you today?” You ask, slowly making your way to the point of her not even texting him once she realized he was out with you tonight. 
He shakes his head, then goes back to bobbing it to the music as if to borderline ignore you.
“Did she call yesterday?” 
He ignores you. 
“The day before that?”
He finally snaps his head over to you, brows furrowed in frustration as he fixes his drunken eyes on yours.
“What are you getting at? She’s busy!” He raises his voice at you, half-laughing at your questions toward him. You can’t tell if it’s because he’s pitying himself or if he thinks you’re trying to get him to cheat on her with you. The sad part is that it would be true either way.
“Oh. Yeah. She’s definitely ‘busy’.” You comment with a roll of your eye, practically downing half of your drink in one gulp before standing up and now trying to catch your own balance. 
“If you’re gonna be this uptight, I’m just gonna go find someone else to hang out with.” You say defiantly, somehow hoping that he would get jealous. 
He just watches you walk away, unsure of how he feels and instantly pulling out his phone to text his girlfriend. Partly just to see if she would respond, and only half because he hadn’t realized how much her communication to him had dropped.
~
You’re not having fun with this hot guy you found yourself grinding up against. You can feel the frustration in your bones with each grind, and even worse, you can feel his eyes on you in a way that’s very different compared to Wonwoo.
Sure, your tits are out and on display but it’s not like you did it for this guy. He eats it up in the way you want Wonwoo to. Even if his eyes are softer and full of doubt, this guy shows no shame in what he wants. He could have a wife at home, and still he’s looking at you without guilt. 
Not that you support cheating. It’s a strange dilemma. Hating the fact that your best friend is doing it to Wonwoo, then countering her by fucking her man before letting him in on the reason why. It would be easier to just tell him, help him break up with her, and then woo him, but you feel angry enough for him that you prefer a more difficult route. The dramatic route. One that hurts her knowing he’s not bothered by her cheating because he has someone else to fuck now too.
Your drunk brain wonders what the fuck you’re doing here, with a guy that isn’t Wonwoo. So, your eyes wander around the room, landing on him still on that same love-seat, eyes glued to his phone. 
Not-so-politely, you break away from the man attempting to shove his hand down your pants and head straight back over to him. You knew he wasn’t going to chase you out onto the floor after how rude you ended up being to him, but you really don’t have it in you to let him just sit in a club alone with a girlfriend two hours away probably taking some dude balls deep right now. 
By the time you get to him and plop back down, he looks at you with a pained sort of face.
“Alright, turn it off.” You say, practically babying him as you grab his phone and hold the power button down. “She isn’t always the nicest.” You easily insult her to him, but he seems to agree by this point. 
“She left me on read.” He says with an annoyed sigh. “You think she’s gonna break up with me?”
God, the pity you feel in that moment is intensely guilty. Because no, she’s not going to break up with him. It’s the other way around, actually. 
“Hey, come on. You’re gonna ruin your buzz if you keep thinking about that.”
He nods to you, very nearly about to become the drunk-cryer before leaning against you with a heavy head, trying not to pay attention to your lack of reassuring him. 
“Not sure why you’re jealous though, she hasn’t even let me visit her.” He laughs in a sad way. “Kinda wish she looked at me the way you do sometimes.”
He trails off, feeling you shift from under his head and take in a deep breath.
“You’re pretty attached, huh?” You ask, opting not to pry at this moment, opting not to feel jealous. 
“Unfortunately.” He huffs, now lifting up and appearing to shake off his sadness. “Well, whatever happens, happens. At least I got you to hang out with.”
You nod proudly, now throwing your legs back onto his lap and staring at him. 
“Yeah, whatever happens, happens.” 
~
Oh boy, did stuff happen. 
Stumbling into and out of a taxi happened, wobbling into his apartment happened, feeling him tug against your shirt as he fell into his bed, practically dragging you down on top of him, happened. 
The most sobering moment was being entirely too drunk yourself to continue your plan with the night, stopping frozen as he looked up at you with a drunken smile and a small chuckle. The small voice coming from his lips saying, “You know, if I wasn’t with her I’d kiss you right now.” 
You remember very nearly kissing him anyway, but opting to playfully cover his mouth and roll over and off of him before promptly passing out directly next to him. 
And now you’re lying here at two in the afternoon, back facing him, with his arms clinging to you as if you belong here. You’re a little worried that he won’t remember what he said, and even more worried that he will.  The hangover is prominent and booming in your skull, and partially you hope he’ll have a headache too blinding to even realize that the person he’s clinging to isn’t his girlfriend. It’s you. 
Only a few minutes goes by before he stirs. His hands gripping you tightly, pulling you back and against him as he groans sleepily against your neck. You can practically feel his deep inhale of comfort by not waking up alone, until he freezes. 
“Oh, fuck,” He says suddenly, in a voice more awake than ever. “Shit, sorry. I didn’t mean to like–”
You roll over to look at him with your own sleepy smile, pretending as if you just woke up as well. 
“It’s fine.” You assure him, sinking further into the blankets and trying to ignore your headache. “I cuddle with my friends all the time.”
He stays silent, not quite sure of how to navigate the situation but ultimately feeling the sharp pound in his head and throwing his head back against his pillow with a huff. 
You’re a little sad that he doesn’t reach out again, but it’s kind of a given. The fact that he doesn’t ask you to leave his bed is enough for you right now.
“Do you remember anything from last night?” He asks reluctantly, internally hoping to god that you don’t. He vaguely remembers saying some stuff he shouldn’t have said, and doesn’t remember at all if he followed through with it or not.
You pick up on his tone of voice, careful and slow. 
“Not really.” You say back, acting as if you’re falling back to sleep.
He breathes out a small breath of relief, allowing the silence to take over the room. 
“Except for you saying you wanted to kiss me.” 
Wonwoo is actually fucking horrified that you remember, reaching a hand to his temple and rubbing harshly in a self-soothing way. 
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.” He says back quietly, feeling the air become heavier and heavier. 
“Oh,” You start, feeling a bit of a pull inside of you. “Well, you were drunk, so I didn’t think you did anyway.”
He breathes out another sigh of relief. 
“Still, it felt good knowing.” You add. 
Wonwoo pauses, feeling the ground beneath threaten to crumble from under him, taking you, him, and his bed with it as he looks over at your back turned to him. Something inside of him is now pulling a bit as he studies the way you breath and lay against his plush pillows. Your voice sounded disappointed, and he doesn’t understand why he’s also disappointed in lying to you about it. He did mean it, but it doesn’t mean you were supposed to be aware of how much he wanted to kiss you. He can’t. He’s loyal.
Nevermind the fact that you’ve never slept over. Nevermind the fact that you’re in his fucking bed.
“I’m not going to tell her, don’t worry.” You say out to the silence, in such a tone that doesn’t really leave room for him to respond outside of feeling bad more for you, than for his girlfriend who can’t seem to give him the light of day. 
There’s another long moment of silence, and part of him wonders if you’ve already fallen asleep again. He can feel his headache get louder and louder in his ears and opts to try and sleep more too, because it feels like a better idea than dealing with this heavy atmosphere. 
And he’s not sure why he does it, but he very carefully rolls towards you and reluctantly puts an arm around you. It’s just cuddling, nothing more. Friends cuddle all the time, right?
When you shift under him, wrapping your fingers up with his, he’s unsure of why he doesn’t pull back, and even more unsure as to why your hand fits within his better than his own girlfriend’s does. 
~
It’s been a week of silence from Wonwoo since the night you slept over. When you officially woke up, he was still next to you, curled in on himself despite falling asleep in a way that should have been more telling than the silence in the room. You didn’t wake him because you knew he was pretending. The hint was that he didn’t want to talk about it, and he definitely didn’t want to look you in the eye. You took the hint.
So, you went home expecting him to text you at some point during the day. He didn’t. The next day? Also nothing. And now, a week later, still nothing. 
You’re a bit in your head. Each work day is filled with menial tasks that do not interest you, mostly because you can’t help but believe you went a bit too far. You were being too pushy, and it resulted in this. Now, even if you were to see him again, wearing those revealing outfits would feel more like a disrespect than a fun little game you’re playing.
It isn’t fair that he’s playing that game with you without knowing, and perhaps it’s time to just get down to the point and tell him. His girlfriend is cheating on him and you’ve been a bad friend to him. You could care less about how she feels about you trying to get her boyfriend in bed with you. 
His loyalty never faltered past staring at you and drunkenly admitting that he would kiss you if he wasn’t in a relationship. The task you gave to yourself was stupid, and to think Wonwoo would really pick you over her while still being with her was arguably the worst idea of your life. 
Your confidence has faltered beyond belief, to the point that expecting him to text now is null. Even if you were to reach out to tell him what’s happening behind his back, at this point it would just look like you’re trying to pry. Like you’re getting involved in a place you do not belong, and definitely weren’t invited. Possibly even, like you’re lying just to get to him. 
And you know, you would have stuck with the plan of silence, the plan of moving on from the situation, until she decided to snap you a billion and one selfies just the night before. Then again, it shouldn’t have surprised you when you opened snapchat this morning to see her, again, in a bed that isn’t Wonwoo’s. She must be out of her damn mind because his bed was warm and his arms were warmer. 
She, again, is smiling. She looks drowsy in each photo, the arm held against her gripping her tighter in each photo until you see a glimpse of his face. 
It shouldn’t piss you off, honestly, it shouldn’t. But the fact that she’s in bed with that man and not Wonwoo? Huge downgrade. The fact that she’s smiling bigger than you’ve ever seen her smile with Wonwoo? Worst best friend ever. 
You don’t even respond to her, and instead screenshot every single photo, ignoring the fact that it will notify her of it, and then you block her. 
You get a text at lightning speed from her immediately after taking at least nine different screenshots, catching a glimpse of the first line of text stating “what are you screenshotting for?” before blocking her number as well.
And then you sit, staring at the dirt in your camera roll before pulling up Wonwoo’s text box. 
Sitting there on your bedroom floor, you type out paragraph after paragraph explaining yourself and your behavior before dropping the bomb. Drafting it once, twice, erasing all of it and starting over. Then you get anxious and close out the text box, instead writing what you want to say in your head but never quite satisfied with it because, well, even if she’s cheating on him…there is no way to explain it in a way that would excuse how you’ve been acting towards him. 
Wallowing in your own self-pity, you seem to lose the point of the matter. Wonwoo is the one being fucked over, seemingly by both of you. Your best friend is taking advantage of him and so are you. 
Ding. 
Your phone goes off next to you, and part of you assumes it’s your “best friend” texting you from that guy’s phone instead, but your stomach drops the second you see Wonwoo’s name. 
Wonwoo: can you come over today? 
You almost want to say that you can’t, despite obviously wanting to. You’re anxious, you’re feeling awful, and you’re pissed off at the entire situation. 
You: why? what’s up?
Wonwoo: i wanna hang out? 
Well, maybe you can take advantage of his ignorance one last time. Surely he feels the intense awkwardness between the two of you, and he’s probably just wanting to put that to rest by hanging out like before. So, naturally, you’re going to go over under the idea of hanging out, and then find a way to tell him. Making no mention of how long you’ve known this to be going on, making no mention of your little mind game, or the revenge. 
After all, he deserves to know. 
~
Wonwoo is a little bit surprised that you show up in appropriate clothing. Not a hardened nipple in sight and you’re wearing jeans to cover your legs. He tries not to look at you in disappointment at this moment, and thankfully it goes unnoticed by you because, well, you’re blatantly avoiding looking anywhere near his face. 
He doesn’t like that you’re not looking at him. Hates that even an hour into the hangout, you’re offering very little conversation compared to normal. You’re not making jokes, you’re not flirting. 
While this is going on, Wonwoo feels like he’s staring far more than usual. Noting little things about you that he hadn’t gotten to pay close attention to before. The way your skin looks, your posture, the way you make a certain face when you seem to be thinking about something. 
In his head, he wonders if he prefers looking at you this way compared to simply staring at what your body could offer if he didn’t have a girlfriend. His heart still beats the same steady pace, but it doesn’t change the fact that he feels like, especially after last week, there’s something here and exploring it is something he’s been avoiding for far too long. 
It’s been there for a long time, and you never showed much interest until after he started dating your best friend. The fact that you started doing all that stuff after she moved away, while he’s trying to make things work from a distance? It was a hard thought to grasp, a hard feeling to admit. It seems he already admitted it to himself though. Putting together puzzle pieces in his mind that don’t quite fit. Ones where it’s him and his girlfriend, trying to fit your piece somewhere near him. It never fit until it was just you and him. 
He never wanted to admit how much he loved spending time with you, how much he loved looking at you, how badly he wanted to touch you. It only got worse after she left, and after you started being around him more without her. He would notice even more things about you that he liked, and the mental gymnastics only drove him to act like an idiot around you. It made him talk about his girlfriend more, as if to mute the thoughts he would have about you. 
Now though? He’s had time to think, he’s had time to figure things out, and ultimately, he’s had time to miss you. To see what it would be like without you around him for more than two days. 
He really did miss you. A lot. Arguably more than his girlfriend, who lives two hours away and hasn’t even allowed him to visit her. So, as he’s sitting next to you on the couch, he moves closer. 
When you get up to grab something to drink, he’s right behind you, absentmindedly placing a hand on your waist to reach up into the cabinet to grab you a glass before you can do it yourself. 
When you sit back down next to him on the couch, he scoots even closer, reluctantly throwing an arm over the back of the couch and gently playing with the collar of your shirt. 
All of those tiny touches bring your eyes to him a few times. The feeling of intimacy is more overwhelming than the day you lost your virginity. You didn’t have to do anything to get him to do it either. You’re not even trying anymore, and here he is, finding ways to get closer to you. Finding ways to invite you into his personal space. 
The air in his apartment feels intense. It feels untouchable to you in a way too, making your anxiety bubble even more as you waver on the line of telling him the truth or just enjoying the way he’s acting right now. There’s too much guilt involved though, as you turn to look at him and this time, you don’t break eye contact. 
He can tell you want to say something, but knows that you probably won’t speak your mind.
“What’s gotten into you?” You finally ask after a long moment of staring at him, and he just shrugs. 
“I just feel comfortable,” he tries to play it off, his mind feeling heavy with the fact that she hasn’t texted him for three days. “And little frustrated.”
Sexually. Considering he hasn’t touched a single person since she moved away. Not to mention the fact that you have been dressing in a way that made him need physical touch for so long now. Until today, anyway. All of those hang outs where you showed up looking ready to be touched, and then leaving untouched? All of those nights he spent alone in his room trying to get his girlfriend to call him, moan for him, or send him photos? All of those nights without love from either of you, and only love from himself. 
“Oh, Why?” You ask, reluctantly. You’re nearly prepared to get up and leave, hoping that his frustration isn’t at you as a person, or about what happened last week. 
“She hasn’t texted in a while and I’m starting to second guess some stuff, I guess.”
You look at him with a shocked expression, the guilt rising in you to the point that you very nearly start screaming out the secrets. But you don’t, because he continues. 
“You’re not wearing the stuff you usually wear to try and impress me either, so I feel like I may have lost my shot.”
Oh.
You look away, a confused feeling inside of you now. The guilt of the situation turning into that of petty revenge yet again. This is what you wanted. Him making a suggestion, even while in a relationship, to want you, to have you, to need you. 
“I want to kiss you, so bad.” He sighs out at your silence, flopping his head against the cushions of his couch and groaning in frustration. He squeezes his eyes shut, a face looking as though he was pained to say such a thing, but it’s more so just the frustration of wanting to kiss you, and never having the chance. Never being able to be in a position to do it. Never being the person you wanted to do it. 
“Are you going to do it this time?” You say in a small voice, still looking at him and the way he shows his clear intentions even through the slouched posture on the couch. 
The cushions are plush around his head, offering him a comfort that you assume you could never bring to him in a moment like this. Even when he turns his head to look at you, eyes darting across your face to search for your usual cheeky smirk or grin, and finding none of that. 
It’s the first time either of you have crossed the line of flirting. There is no flirting to be had here, and only Wonwoo’s reluctant intimacy, his needy suggestions. 
“Yeah.” He lets out with a sigh, now taking in a deep breath and still not moving from the couch. 
You, on the other hand, unintentionally push the secret to the back of your mind. The sheer idea of him wanting to kiss you, and him actually planning to do it overshadows any other thought in your brain. As if the entire situation never happened, and it’s just you and him with no ties to other people. 
As if he’s not in a relationship. As if you’re not actively trying to end that relationship. 
It’s silent, and he’s still unmoving after saying that. You look away briefly, trying to muster up the courage to say something else. To encourage him, to do it yourself. Then, before you can even try, you feel the couch dip next to you, and when you turn back to look at him. He’s right there.
You can feel his breath fanning over you, only now noticing that he must have been sucking on that candy before for this very reason. The scent of something fruity and sweet overpowering your senses as the two of you blink at each other. 
You watch as his eyes go from open, to hooded, and you feel his palm against your cheek. The warmth of it lulling your own eyes to close. 
The first feeling of his lips felt like any other kiss. Plush and warm. His lower lip slots between yours in a simple way, and he stays like that briefly before pulling back and looking at you.
His insides are buzzing, unsure as to why this feels so insane right now. He’s kissed before, so many times. He’s made out, he’s fucked. He’s done everything, but with you, it’s different. And it’s so fucking cliche to think about. Never did he think kissing you would feel any different. 
But it does. And maybe it’s because your lips are prettier than his girlfriend’s, maybe it’s because the candy he had made the kiss all the sweeter. Maybe it’s because you’re here, and she’s not. 
Or maybe, it’s because he actually likes you. 
It only continues from there, his lips falling to yours once more, and then twice more, until he’s managed to cup your face in both of his hands and really kiss you. His tongue slipping in with ease and not at all as reluctant as his hands. 
You kiss him back, seemingly trying to take what you can get before he realizes what’s happening and ultimately runs away from this. 
With each passing moment, it’s what you expect to happen but, for him, each passing moment is only going further and further past the boundary line. His tongue continues moving against yours, his lips continue to fit perfectly with yours, and he keeps going until he’s breathless. 
When he pulls back this time to breathe, his hands go from your face to your shoulders, running down your waist until he grips your hips and pulls you forward. You don’t budge at first, looking at him and his candy kissed lips. 
He seems confident when he pulls at you again, and again, until you follow where his hands are pulling you. Directly on top of him. 
There, he positions himself much like he did when he said he was going to kiss you. Head pressed back into the cushions, eyes closed before half-opening to look at you with a serious expression. Seeing him from this angle, with your legs thrown on either side of him, straddling him? 
That angry feeling inside of you bubbles up again. This is what your best friend can fucking have? And she’s not doing it? She’s not here right the fuck now, sitting on her pretty boyfriend? With his stupid warm hands holding her so delicately on his lap? With his messy hair and pretty lips?
You groan as you look at him, moving your hand to pinch the bridge of your nose and shake your head. 
“Hm? What’s up?” He asks, in his own little world with you, his girlfriend so far in the back of his brain that he doesn’t seem to comprehend the gravity of the situation. 
“I just,” You start, adjusting your eyes back to him and taking in his image once again. This time feeling like the breath is knocked out of you with the way he’s looking at you. You forgot what you wanted to say. 
“Are you worried?” He asks, bringing his hand back up to your face and running the back of his fingers against your lips.
It’s something that makes you feel like he’s not taken. It makes you feel like he wants to be taken though, by you, specifically. 
You shake your head, kissing his fingers as they continue to make their way back and forth across your lips. Only slightly sticking out your tongue to lick them, before he runs that hand to the collar of your shirt and pulls you down and against him. 
There, before you can even think to pull yourself back up, he’s wrapping his arms around you in a hug, letting your head lay against his shoulder as he talks. 
“You really have no idea, do you?”
On the fucking contrary. He’s the one who has no idea. 
“How long have I wanted to hold you like this?” He continues, still hugging you too tight for you to lift up enough to look at him. “Do you know?” 
You shake your head, digging deep in your brain and finding no hints from him that would indicate such a thing. 
“Since before you approached me to meet her.” He says, dropping the bomb that he’s still not yours, all while holding you as if you’re his. “Since that time you asked my friend for help on campus opening your bottle.” 
“That was over a year ago.” You comment in disbelief, noting that college life felt so far away despite it not being a distant memory at all. 
In fact, you remember the way he wanted to help before his friend did. You didn’t know him until that moment, and only knew his friend from a few classes.
“From the first second, I think,” He ponders, his grip on you loosening as he lets you raise up slightly to look at him. “I think this is what I wanted from then on.”
“Then why are you with–”
He cuts you off, kissing you again and ultimately doing the job of shutting your brain off so well that you can only believe he was meant to be the one doing it. 
And there, the two of you sit like that with no goal in mind. Just kissing, just feeling, just enjoying. With each breath you need to take, the kisses only come back more intense, up until you think a solid hour passes.
Never have you made out for this long without a hand in your pants, or your hand in someone else’s pants. Arguably, you feel as if you need your hand in his pants by now, especially because you can feel how aroused he’s been. 
He never pushed for more though, with his length sitting directly under you and his little relieved breaths each time you adjusted your body on his to kiss him deeper. You can imagine his legs must be going numb by now too, but he leaves no room for complaints. 
None of his little sounds seem to come from pain, and the fact that this alone is enough to satisfy him brings that angry feeling back. You can imagine he must love to go slow. He must enjoy taking his time, and being gentle, sweet, and loving. Your best friend is so fucking different. You’ve heard of her sexual endeavors, you’ve seen them both in photos, videos, and hell, even in the same room as you because the bitch has no comprehension of personal space. 
Only now do you realize that during her entire relationship with Wonwoo, she never talked about sex with him. She never sent photos, videos, or was all over him when the three of you hung out. You assumed it was because it was his boundary. You know she doesn’t respect boundaries though, so clearly not. 
“I don’t know.” Wonwoo suddenly whispers between kisses, forcing you to search your brain as to what he must be referring to. 
“Hm?” You hum into his insistent lips, only giving enough space for him to offer short bursts of conversation. 
“Why am I with her, that’s what you were going to ask, right?” He says, pulling back and letting you look at him. 
You nod reluctantly, trying not to feel his arousal beneath you twitch against your ass. 
He shrugs.
“Does it really even matter?” He asks, now moving his body in a way that suggests you should stand, and you do. 
You stay silent, watching him stand to his feet in front of you, looking down at you. 
“Does it?” He asks again, looking at you for an answer.
You shake your head, watching him slowly take a step back, and back, and back. Fully aware of the fact that he’s making his way to his room, and knowing you’re going to follow him.
You do, following him until you get close enough that he grabs you again and holds you against his chest, expertly walking backwards in his apartment straight to his bedroom door. You could do that too, if you wanted to, because you’ve been here more times than you can count. 
There, he continues to hold you in his grasp, inhaling the scent of your hair, running his hands down and slipping them under your shirt, rubbing your back.
You’re the one who snakes an arm around him to open his bedroom door, and he very nearly trips backwards. The chaos of you falling on top of him wouldn’t be the most awful error, with the way he keeps getting caught up with simply fucking hugging you. Thankfully though, he doesn’t fall.
Instead, he regains the control of his body and turns both of you around, now forcing you to walk back until your knees hit his bed and you’re falling back with him on top of you.
It’s silent again save for a small laugh from him, and he still just stares at you. As if he’s taking you in for the first time each time he does this. 
He pulls his arms from under you and adjusts them now to where one is holding up his weight, and the other is once again fiddling with the collar of your shirt. There, he leans down and kisses the side of your mouth before moving down your neck, stopping where his fingers are toying with your shirt. 
“I’m so hard,” He whispers against your neck, thrusting his hips forward and against your leg. “Can you touch me?” 
You pause at the feeling of your heart fluttering, the warmth of his breath against your skin only heightens the feeling and you intentionally lift your leg slightly to bump against his length. 
He lets out a pleased sigh at the feeling, tensing his hips against your leg and kissing against your neck again, beginning to suckle in that same spot. 
His hands move up and down your body as he chases the friction your leg offers, slowly lifting your shirt, up until he has to remove his lips from your skin to get it off of you, only to immediately place them right back there, and sucking harder against your collar bone. 
You feel his length throbbing against your leg with each little movement of his hips, and the pained feeling of your blood vessels being bursted with his mouth, the feeling of his hands now running up to your bra, intentionally moving the fabric just to free one of the breasts he’s spent too much time staring at before. 
When he does that, you feel him release your skin from his mouth and groan out at the first glimpse of real naked flash, now running his lips straight to your nipple and sucking there instead. His hips moving faster against you until he can barely stand it. 
He releases your nipple with a pop sound before looking at you, his eyes shining in a new way. He studies the way you lay beneath him, then looks down at his cock chasing the feeling of your slightly raised leg before he laughs at himself. Only slightly, a very small laugh. 
“I feel so desperate…” He comments, shifting his hips harder. “and I don’t care.” He adds, reaching for your bra and pulling it off of you without so much as unhooking it. Then he goes straight for his shirt, lifting it off of his body just a quickly before lying against you just to feel the warmth.
“Are you okay with this?” He finally says, in a smaller voice, with a little less confidence. 
Of course you are, even with all of the things unspoken about this situation, and what could come of it. 
You offer him a small nod, moving your hands up to his hair and pulling a bit, as if to guide his lips back to your nipple. He follows with ease, smiling around the hardened nub and flicking it with his tongue before immediately pulling back and looking at you. 
He’s fucking beaming. Never have you seen him look so happy. He’s practically glowing as he looks at you, and it makes you feel like your heart is going to thump out of your chest. You smile back, feeling like you both must look so stupid right now. He’s cheating right now, and you both couldn’t be happier about it. 
“You’re so…” You start, your voice coming out cheerful and pleased. “cute.”
He raises a questionable brow at the choice of words there, wanting nothing more than to seem sexy, or like, arousing to you. But he will take it at face value, and hope that someday, maybe he’ll be more than just cute.
He hums, leaning back down to your nipple yet again, suckling it between his teeth before finally moving over to the other, warming up the skin there and leaving no part of you without a tingling sensation. 
His hips have stilled, but you can still feel him ache against you, so you make it a point to raise your leg higher, moving it against him until he can’t stop releasing little moans from around your nipple. You keep doing that, up until he releases your skin with a deep sigh, one that feels painful.
“I want you so bad.” He groans, lifting fully from you and towering over you. 
You look up at him, eyes trailing his chest and abs before focusing on his hands, which lifts from you and travels to the button of his pants. 
It’s going to happen. It’s really gonna fucking happen now. You’re happy, your heart is fucking threatening death on you, and your entire body is reacting to him at this moment in the form of warmth soaking your panties. 
He watches you watch him, your eyes practically urging him to do exactly what he’s intending to do, and he’s even more happy to oblige. Making a show of unbuttoning his pants, unzipping, and then pausing. 
“Hey, look at me.” He says playfully, watching you struggle to move your eyes back up to his. “Keep looking at me.”
God, it truly is a fucking struggle to keep your eyes on his, despite how much you’ve grown to love how passionate they are when he looks at you. In your peripheral vision, you can see him lower his pants, you can see his hand reaching to pull his cock from his briefs, and you can even see him tug against it a few times, all while he’s smiling directly at you. Knowing you want to see it. 
“How does it feel to have someone flash what you want in front of you, but not being able to really look?” He asks, again in a playful voice.
You roll your eyes at him, then dart them straight down and take in a deep inhale at how big he appears to be. Even against his hands, large and slender, his cock is arguably something that will feel new to you in size alone. 
Honestly, you can’t fucking comprehend your “best friend” moving away and leaving that behind. Choosing someone else, letting someone else inside of her. Looking at it alone has your entire body in hyper-awareness of how badly you want it. You want him. Not even for revenge, but just to show him that he is fucking wanted. He is desired, and he isn’t worth fucking leaving. 
You’re still staring when he shuffles back, landing his hands on your pants to try and get them off of you too, but you stop him. Shooting up from your back and nearly throwing yourself into a dizzy fit before grabbing onto him and pushing him from the bed. 
He’s a little shocked, and definitely confused, until he realizes what you’re doing. You shift to lying on your stomach, face level with his hips.
“Oh,” He lets out, noting the way you’re grabbing his hips and bringing him forward again, his knees hitting his bed and the head of his cock hitting your lips. “Oh, shit.” He grits out, feeling you instantly take him into your mouth without even so much as suggesting you wanted to do this.
If there was a line to cross, it was already crossed, but this means there’s no turning back. And he’s fucking fine with it. His “girlfriend” never seemed this excited to do this. She was actually, um, quite boring in bed. Not to compare her to you or anything, it’s just, you know–
You can feel him tremble when you take him deeper into your mouth, honestly just wanting to show him how much you want this. You take him deeper, and deeper, until your throat constricts around him and you feel him tap at your shoulder and slide himself out. 
“You don’t have to do that,” He comments, slightly out of breath, a tint of red fanning over his cheeks. “You really, really, don’t have–” 
He’s cut off by you ignoring him, doing the exact thing that’s getting him to act like this. Taking more and more until your throat constricts again, and you continue to let your throat stimulate him. 
“Fuck.” He moans in another shaky breath, showing that he’s still trembling, much like you are. 
He doesn’t argue this time though, instead he opts to find out where the fuck he should put his hands. One lands on your head briefly, before it moves to your cheek to feel how hollowed out they are, then it ends up running through his hair, to amplify the feeling of pleasured insanity running through his body right now. 
And when you pull back to breathe, you feel his hips chase the warmth of your throat. Gagging you once more before he sputters out a small apology, heaving in a breath and trying to steady his thoughts of how fucking amazing you are. 
You smile at him, wiping the corners of your mouth before planting a kiss to the head of his length, tasting the salty pre-cum that you hadn’t gotten to taste before, considering how deep you took him into your mouth. 
He still looks at you, dazed and totally infatuated with the way you look so proud of yourself. His cock twitching in front of your face, his eyes keeping the same passion. Before you can even go back in for more, he’s reclaiming his control. 
“Roll over,” He says, not trying to seem demanding. 
To you though, it just seems desperate, in a good way. A great way. 
You do, rolling over and seeing him lean over you to quickly undo your pants, his cock literally right on your face. You playfully lick the base, feeling his entire body twitch as he laughs. 
“Stop.” He chuckles at his own sensitivity, trying to shove your pants down in the awkward position. 
“Don’t put it on my face then.” You argue, licking again. 
He finally steps back with another laugh, removing his length from the assault of your tongue and throwing himself onto the bed, finishing the task of taking off your pants. 
He briefly notes the wet spot on your panties, sighing in relief with a smile before he balances himself on one arm beside your head and leans down to kiss you.
You let him. Feeling entirely desired and wanted by him. The kiss is just as deep as the ones before, but this time you have the breath knocked out of you. You can feel his fingers moving your panties and going straight for your clit. 
Your mouth falls slack against his, letting out a sigh that he swallows up enthusiastically. 
He continues that, sliding his fingers up and down your folds, circling your clit, kissing you, chuckling to you, licking against your tongue before experimenting with sliding a finger into you.
He only stops kissing you at that moment, looking down at where his finger disappears inside of you, and then searching your face for a reaction. You look back at him with a dazed smile, slightly nodding with another long and drawn out sigh. 
Then he slides his finger out, and slides in two, a bit harsher this time. Effectively fucking his fingers into you only twice before you’re pulling him back down and into a rough and messy kiss.
His hand continues to fuck into you as his tongue counters the motion with slow drags of his tongue against yours, as if he’s tasting each moan you give to him. The candied flavor of his lips is more dull now that you think you’ve kissed the flavor out of him. You imagine he can feel exactly how much you want him, with the way you’re grasping him, the way you’re moaning for him, the way you’re kissing with no rhyme or reason. 
His hands get rougher and rougher as the minutes pass, up until he can feel you dripping against his knuckles and hopefully onto his bed. 
“So wet,” he compliments you through a breathy kiss. “So pretty.” He adds, pulling back to really see how you look while being fucked. 
You hum in response, spreading your legs a bit more, now using your own body to fuck against his fingers. Wanting more of him, wanting them deeper. 
“Wonwoo,” You sigh out, feeling the slide of his fingers continue to drench themselves into the heat of your pussy. “Please tell me you’re going to fuck me.” 
He continues to look at you, his cock twitching at the words as he dips his head in a small and, somehow shy, nod. All he needed was for you to ask. Now all he needs is to feel you stretch around his aching cock, relieving him of the intensity of how badly he’s wanted to be inside of you for so fucking long. 
“Just tell me when.” he whispers, letting his fingers continue to do the work. 
“Now.” 
Well, you don’t have to ask him twice. He smiles, popping one more kiss to the corner of your mouth before lifting from you and staring down at the way you slide yourself on his fingers. Imagining briefly what you’d look like doing that to his cock. Closing his eyes tightly at the image and nearly whining out in pleasure at the image. 
You’re a little shocked at first, with the way he pulls his fingers out, removes your panties, and instantly lays his cock against your core. Sliding it through your folds and humming at how wet you manage to coat his length. He does that for a little too long, but you watch him. He’s enjoying the image, staring straight down and seemingly focused on burning the image of his cock sliding against you in his mind. 
And when he does finally position himself, he’s quick to grab one of your legs and place it over one of his shoulders, before sliding in slightly, then doing the same with your other leg. 
There he stares down as he sinks into you, watching how deep his cock can go, feeling and seeing you pulse around him in a harsh and searing stretch. 
Then, he looks at you and the way you’re lying under him with a face that resembles both pain, release, and pleasure. It drives him further, fitting his cock into you as if it was made for you and you alone. 
You, on the other hand, feel as though you’re being split in fucking half by the sheer length of him. He just keeps pressing in, deeper, deeper, deeper. Until your legs tremble on his shoulders and he’s quick to turn his face to land a gentle kiss against your calf, as if to soothe you. 
He couldn’t stop even if he wanted to though. When he bottomed out on you, all he could do was sit there and feel your pussy adjust to him. It felt so fucking good, so tight, so wet. All of it had him nearly not even thinking with his own brain. It made him want to say filthy things, seeing you stretched out on him, feeling your legs tremble even through his soothing kisses. Seeing your hands weakly grip at the sheets above your head. 
Only now, does he slide out to offer you a bit of relief, watching your face and the way you take in deep breaths before releasing them with sweet sounds for him. He slides back in, letting out his own moan before gripping one of your legs to hold it in place and holding your thigh with the other. There, he finds a rhythm. One that has you moaning with each thrust, out of breath, and your legs trembling even more.
One that has him feeling like he could do this for hours. Loving the way he fits into you, loving the way your tits move with each thrust, obsessed with the way your voice translates pleasure for him. 
He thinks he might be in love, fucking into you as if his life depends on it. As if his “girlfriend” never laid under him like this. Because she did, and somehow it never felt as good as it does with you. 
Even through the silence save for moaning and breaths, it feels more intense than fucking ever has for him and he doesn’t want it to end. He loves the way your pleasure squeezes his length so tightly. He loves the little sounds you make, and fucking adores the way you still try to meet him half way with his thrusts. Like you’re urging for more, like you’re loving it, like you’re loving him. 
He does this for a while, internally falling in love with you over and over again with each moan, each clench of your pussy, each fucking tremble. That is only heightened when he manages to move a hand to your clit, fighting your weak hands to push them away from you as he stimulates the sensitivity beyond belief.
You moan out for him, both chasing the feeling and urging him to stop because you don’t want this to end either. He chooses to keep going though, watching you reach your arms up to him, as if you’re calling to him through the intense sensitivity. 
He’s so quick to let your legs fall from his shoulders as he intertwines his fingers with yours on one hand, the other keeping up the pressure against your clit. He leans closer to you now, face inches from your as he looks at you
“You’re so fucking pretty like this.” He compliments directly against your lips. “It isn’t fair.”
You can hardly comprehend what he’s saying, feeling his hips pick up intensity now that he’s even closer to you. The angle change makes the slide of his cock feel perfect inside of you, bumping every sensitive spot alongside his fingers caressing your clit, it sends you over edge without so much as a silent warning.
Honestly, it happens before he even realizes it himself. Feeling your pussy stutter around his length and the way you hold your breath as you try to kiss him at the same time. He tries to slow down to feel it, encouraging you to let it go while feeding into the one sided kiss. His fingers are still toying with you, wanting you to give him your all as you release. As he slows his hips, the slow drag of his cock inside of you continues to fuck you through your orgasm until he stops moving completely, unaware of how much you’re stimulating him through your orgasm, he pulls out half way in a panic.
“Hold on–” He breathes against your lips before throwing his head back and trying to convince himself not to come. “Stop clenching, fuck.” 
You could argue, but honestly you’re about as stupid as he appears to be right now. Clenching harder at his words and the way his body jerks inside of you as he presses all the way back in again. Prolonging your orgasm past your own comprehension. 
You moan louder in surprise, and there he goes. 
Losing his goddamn mind inside of you as he releases, almost forgetting where he is as he pumps every single bit of his come into you with full fucking intention. Wanting you to feel it as he kisses you through it, wanting you to know just how much he could give to you, and ultimately feeling satisfied with the way you cling to him as he does it. 
Up until both of you are breathless, trembling, and a fucking mess when he pulls out of you. 
~
The silence in the room came back after the two of you caught your breath, Wonwoo was quick to clean both of you up, knowing for a fact that a shower will need to be in the plan within the next ten minutes. 
But also, something else has come back to the front of his brain. Since, you know, he kind of lost his mind for a while there.
“Why didn’t you tell me she was cheating on me?”
“How did you–” You start, immediately pulled out of your post-sex daze. The glow of your skin disappearing and replacing itself with guilt and panic.
“When I asked her, she asked if you told me.” He responds, as nonchalant as ever. Showing no anger toward you for knowing. 
It seems he figured it out on his own.
“Oh….”
“You could have just told me instead of letting me sit there and suffer abouting wanting you at the same time. Do you realize how awful that made me feel?”
You’re not prepared for this conversation, as much as you’d like to be. 
“I was trying to get back at her.” You say in a small voice, feeling ashamed. 
“Well, we definitely did.” He starts, tapping the bottom of your chin and forcing you to look up at him. “You should have told me though, instead of trying to take matters into your own hands.”
You look at him, searching for any hint of anger or disappointment and finding none. If anything, you see the frustration, possibly part of what he referred to before he fucked you. Before he definitely didn’t cheat on his “girlfriend” with you.
“We did?” You start, glancing away from him. “She knows we–?” You continue, wondering how the fuck the two of you would have gotten back at her if you only just had sex. 
“Oh, right.” He puts a finger in the air. “I kind of jumped the gun and told her not to feel bad because I cheated on her too.” 
“What?! With who?” You panic, wondering if the silence of last week was him fucking the sad out of him with someone else.
“You.”  he pauses, avoiding eye contact. “Then I hung up and waited a few days to decide on what to do. I ended up texting you to come over so I could make good on my promise.”
“And if I wasn’t interested?”
“You were clearly interested.”
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