Tumgik
#my hips my back and my fucking knees hurt so much
mingigoo · 2 days
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oh shit, are we in love? || Jongho (m.)
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🏀 pairing ⇢ cheerleader! (fem) reader x best friend/basketball player! Jongho
🏀 summary ⇢ you’ve called Jongho your best friend all your life. You were attached at the hip for ages, and even as you take on college together. With no other relationship experience other than with him, when you decide to go after a cute classmate, you look to Jongho for some help. Asking him to practice “things” with you seemed like nothing—that is, until kissing him made you think that you couldn’t kiss anyone else.
🏀 genre/au ⇢ best friends to lovers, college au, smut, fluff
🏀 warnings/tags ⇢ 18+ MINORS DNI, unprotected sex, oral sex (male recieving), cum shot, Jongho is a virgin, also is a slut for y/n, drinking, mentions of knee injury, best friends to lovers, college love, cheerleader x basketball player
🏀 word count ⇢ 15.8k (so sorry I just couldnt stop)
🏀 taglist ⇢ @jjhmk @yukine-smx @roe-sinning @meowmeowminnie @yeritheloml @y00nzin0 @yesv01 @halesandy @shegotboreddsoo @kangyeosangelic @gayliljoong @sanshineeeeee @kodzukein @baguette-atiny @seokwoosmole @nyeatinyjunkie @juliettechokilo @pockyddalgi @justaqueerbufoin @hwaightme @likexaxdaydream @ssaboala @gtr-skyline-lover @miriamxsworld @daegale @knucklesdeepmingi @naiify @yeoyeoland @arya9111 @mdibby @8tinytings @angelicyeo @wooyoungjpg @lonewolfjinji @asjkdk @charreddonuts @mangishii @yeoyeoland @pink-hwaberry @wooyoluvrr @maru-matt @pearltinyy @loveuwoo @m3chigo @northerngalxy @silverpixiedust23 @interweab @skz1-4-3 (if I missed you please lmk!! bold = can’t tag)
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When you were kids, Jongho gave you a ring—a ring made out of straw paper he kept after a trip to get milkshakes after school.
With the paper straw ring, he stuck it on your ring finger. The wrong one, but that didn't matter to him, anyway. He declared to you that he would marry you someday. Someday, whatever that meant to a young kid. With the ring already on your finger, you couldn't exactly decline his proposal, so you just shrugged and told him, “Why not?”
At seventeen, you went to prom together. Not because you liked each other, no. Because it was convenient, it made sense. How could you go with someone else? You wore a beautiful red gown, Jongho matching you with a patterned red tie. You had a great time, went home together, and nearly kissed at your doorstep—you didn't think too much of it. You blamed it on the atmosphere. So did he.
You sat at your desk in your cramped dorm room, your bed pushed up on the left side of the room and a mess of pillows and blankets covering it. 
Suddenly, as you were finally getting to the good part in your book, Jongho barged into your room, dropping his basketball bag onto the floor with a groan. He tossed his slides off, not even meeting your gaze before walking like a zombie towards your messy bed, throwing himself on top.
“Well hello to you too,” you blinked, losing your page in your book. “Get out of my damn bed, you're sweaty as fuck.”
He huffed, crossing his muscular arms across his chest, staring up at the glow stars you put on the ceiling. “Leave me be. My roommate is fucking some chick right now. I just need to lay down.”
“San seems like he gets around a lot,” you scoffed, picking up your book again. You were currently reading a very, very smutty book—although you were supposed to be studying your literature anthology text for the exam you had in the morning. You flipped a page. 
“Oh, he does,” Jongho sniffed. You looked over at him, his cut-off t-shirt revealing a good bit of skin on his side, his sweat gleaming on his body. “I mean, practice just ended. He had to have the damn girl in there even before he got back. It’s ridiculous.”
He sat up now, putting his back against his headboard. He winced a bit as he moved, his hand going to the brace around his knee.
You paused, completely forgetting the smut you were reading. “What is it? Is it hurting again?”
“Just a little, it’s no biggie.” Jongho offered you a smile, but it looked more like a grimace. “Don't give me that look, y/n. I hurt it a while ago. It's normal for it to ache occasionally.”
Back in your senior year, he tore his ACL before the season, causing him to never have his final year of basketball. He was a mess, but at least he had you. He got surgery, had physical therapy, but yet, he still has pain to this day.
You met his eyes for a moment, sighing when that gorgeous smile of his poked through his lips. “Fine, fine. Just get outa here when you can. I got some…important things to do alone tonight.”
He furrowed his brows, confused. “What could you possibly…..oh,” he shut his eyes painfully. “Please, I don't want to imagine it.” He scooted back down on the bed and tossed your blanket on top of him. “My eyes, my eyes.”
“Oh, shut up, you pussy.” You set your book down, crossing your legs. “A girl gotta live out her fantasies somehow, alright?”
“La la la,” he repeated, trying his best to ignore the conversation. “I don't wanna hear it.”
You let out a chuckle, stood up from your seat, and tossed yourself onto the bed with him, tackling him as he thrashed from your grip.
“Stop it, stop it,” he groaned, wriggling away from your hands as you tickled him. He giggled, childlike. You giggled right along with him, not even caring about the damn sweat that coated his skin, his clothes. You tangled together under the blanket, and after a good couple minutes of a tickle fight, you grabbed your laptop to watch your favorite TV show.
Jongho stayed under the blankets with you, his leg strewn on top of your body, his head in the crook of your neck as you watched the show together. He let out a few snide comments—earning a slap from you, but he just chuckled and nuzzled closer into you.
And after a few episodes, he fell asleep on you, legs tangled in yours, your arm wrapped around him.
“Dude, you wouldn't answer your phone last night,” Wooyoung mumbled as he stuffed a couple of chips into his mouth. “Do you literally have a new bitch every night?”
You and your friends were sitting at a table in the dining hall, munching on some lunch before you had class. Wooyoung, San, and Mingi sat across from you and Jongho, all of them in workout gear—they were going to the gym after lunch.
“Listen, last night wasn't even that good,” San hummed dully, taking a sip of his protein shake. “She was too damn loud—”
“I thought you liked them whiny,” Mingi deadpanned.
San’s eyes narrowed on the giant. “Your point? She was loud, not whiny—there’s a difference.” San looked to Jongho now, a slight smirk on his pretty little lips. “Where’d you go? You could've joined us.”
Jongho waved his hands sporadically. “No, no, I’d rather not, thank you.”
San huffed playfully, eyes dancing to you. They glimmered knowingly. “Ah, you’d rather be in her bed, right?” he nodded his head towards you, earning a harsh glare from Jongho.
“So what if I'm in her bed, it’s not like we do anything.” Jongho’s eyes went frantic, and his fists balled. “We’ve always slept with each other—wait, that came out wrong—”
“What he’s trying to say is that we’ve slept in the same bed since we were little, that nothing is ever gonna happen,” you interjected, crossing your arms across your chest.
San laughed at that. “Ah yeah, that nothing’s gonna happen, gotcha,” he said, taking the last sip of his protein shake. I’m going to the gym if you guys are ready. Jongho, y/n, you coming?”
You shook your head, but stood up with everyone else, anyway. “I have class, but you guys have fun. I’ll walk out with you.”
As you and your friends left the dining hall, the cool, winter air breezed through you, sending chills down your spine. Your winter coat wasn't enough. You shoved your hands into your pockets, walking stiffly next to jongho, who simply—possibly even without thinking, tossed his arm around your shoulder, warming you up instantly. Your friends continued to talk and carry on, and you snuggled up into Jongho’s warm side.
Class was a bore. As per usual. The spring semester had just started, and the new classes you had were far from entertaining. Anything to get through school, though.
As you packed up your things, a phone fell from the seat in front of you, landing right by your feet. You picked it up, but when the person was no longer sitting there, you quickly tossed your bag over your shoulder to follow him.
“Hey, excuse me!” you huffed, chasing after the guy—damn, his legs were long. He moved way too fast for you. “Your phone….dude!” you finally reached him, tapping him on the shoulder, only for the most gorgeous man to grace the earth to turn around.
You forced yourself to keep your jaw from falling to the floor as you met his dark eyes. His hair was even darker, his lips a soft pink, curling up slightly. 
“I’m sorry,” you breathed, holding up the phone. “But you dropped this.”
The pretty guy blinked, smirking. The classroom emptied as you stood staring at each other, oblivious to the professor giving you a side-eye as he left.
“I don't think that’s mine,” he said blandly, but his eyes glimmered mischievously. He looked a bit older—definitely older than you, at least.
You furrowed your brows, looking at the phone in your hands. “I could've sworn you were the one sitting in front of me,” you wondered, confused. You pushed it forward into his chest. “Just take it I don't have time to find the owner if it's not yours.”
He smiled down at you, his thick eyebrows raising. “I won't take it.”
“Why the hell not?” your patience was running thin—you had to get the cheer practice. This stupidly pretty guy was not allowed to make you late. You were not running laps. Not today. 
You were about to just shove it into his pockets until his mouth opened. “Not without your number.”
You frowned. “Is that….is that supposed to be a pickup line?”
He shrugged. “If you want it to be, then yes.”
God, the smile this damn boy had. You were gonna crumble under his gaze like some schoolgirl, but you kept your cool.
His eyes were so bright, so clear. He was tall, much taller than you, much older. You watched as he looked around, away from you. “If not, then I’ll just take the phone back—”
“No, no,” you laughed awkwardly, looking at the phone in your hands. “You just…you’ll just need to unlock it.”
He smiled gorgeously. “I can do that.”
He took the phone, typed in a few numbers, and gave it right back to you. “What’s your name?” 
“y/n,” you hummed, forcing your blush away. This was the first time you had been asked for your number, the first time a guy other than Jongho or your friends had looked at you. “You?”
“Seonghwa,” the pretty boy smiled, a name now to the face. You couldn't help but grin at his expression—and the utter insanity that just happened. It was totally random; a pretty guy asking for your number? That’s never happened in all your years. Never. 
“If I ask to buy you a coffee,” he started as you fumbled on your phone number. “Would you say yes?”
“Depends,” you shrugged, unable to look up at him. “If you get me food, too.”
“Deal.” Goddamn, that smile, those teeth. “Tomorrow, after class? Before class?”
You bit your lip, handing the phone back to him. “Before, I have practice after class.” actually, you had practice like, right now. You probably looked crazy, eyes wide as you realized where you needed to be. “I gotta go—speaking of which—”
Before you could leave, he called for you. “Hey, where should we meet?”
“Outside the library?” you tossed out, hoping he answered hastily. 
He nodded, giving you that smile once again. 
“Perfect.”
You were in bed after practice, and Jongho was sitting quietly on your desk chair, slowly taking off his knee brace and hissing. 
“God, this thing sucks,” he groaned, the velcro tearing as he peeled it off. The brace was like a metal cage, going from his thigh to his lower calf, looking like a deathtrap.
“And it stinks,” you mumbled dramatically, staring up at your ceiling, hands folded on your stomach as your mind wandered. You sat up quickly, startling your best friend. 
“What? What is it?” he spat out, running a hand through his sweaty hair. “You just sat up like a goddamn zombie.”
“If, let’s just say, hypothetically,” you wondered, looking out into space. “That I got asked out on a date to a coffee shop, how would I dress?”
Jongho’s eyes widened. “You got asked out? You?” he asked incredulously.
You scoffed, looking over at him with a playful sneer. “Is that so hard to believe?”
He laughed, finally taking off his brace and setting it on the side of your desk. “Oh yeah—y/n, you’ve never once gone on a date in all of our years of friendship. It's shocking.”
You blinked at him, gripping a pillow from behind you and tossing it at him. Of course, he caught it. 
“I’m just saying—”
“Okay, but for real,” you groaned, shifting to get comfy again. “You’ve been on some dates, how did the girls usually dress for them? Did you ever go on a coffee date—”
“Who’s the guy?” he huffed out, completely ignoring your worries.
You flattened your lips. “Does that matter?”
“Uh, yeah. What if the guy is a scumbag?” Jongho leaned back in the chair, stretching out his arms. 
“He’s definitely not a scumbag,” you sighed, thinking of how dreamy he looked, missing Jongho’s worried expression. “Anyway, you didn't answer my question.”
You couldn't figure out the look on your best friend’s face. He knitted his brows, his eyes raising to yours. “Just dress normally,” he spoke softly. “When’s your date?”
“Tomorrow.” You hopped off your bed and walked towards your closet across from Jongho. He followed you as you moved and hesitated to look as you tore off your top, leaving you standing in your sports bra.
Jongho gulped but rolled his eyes playfully. “Why do you always undress in front of me?” His eyes naturally dropped to your hips as you slid off your sweatpants. “I am a man, too, you know.”
“Pfft, man, my ass,” you turned your back to him as he tried his best not to look. You grabbed a t-shirt—his t-shirt that you kept from a while ago—and tossed it on. You didn't even bother with pants.
Jongho gave you a look as you turned to face him. “My shirt? Really?” He groaned, mouth parted as he looked at you. “Where the hell are your pants?”
“I don't like pants.”
“Then put shorts on—”
“Is it a crime to sleep in my underwear? God, at least I have something on, dammit.” you walked past him and hopped back onto your bed. “I could be completely naked—this is my room, remember?”
Jongho didn't change his expression—he blinked at you while you sat on the bed, bare-legged, the skin up to the top of your thigh visible. He took in a gulp. “I, uh, I got an assignment due at midnight. I’m gonna head back to my room.”
You shrugged and shuffled into bed to get comfy. “Have fun with that, babycakes,” you said, giving him a wink, but he ignored it and left your room without another look.
Maybe it was a bad idea to wear jeans on a day like today.
A day when you woke up painfully bloated, bleeding, and aching from your period. Out of all the days, you had to get it today. 
You stood outside the library, your back against the red brick building. You wore a cute pink top with the flared jeans you were struggling with, and you added a cute little bow to hold your hair back.
You saw Seonghwa walk up to you. His lower half was also dawned in wonderfully-fitting jeans. They hugged his thighs, loosening a bit at his knees, and fell over a pair of sparkling clean white sneakers that looked like they were worth more than your car. 
The white shirt was also slim against his lean frame. You held back any reaction you had like a damn cat in heat. “Hey,” he started as he neared. “Ready to go? We can go to the coffee shop on campus since we have class coming up.”
You nodded, hoping to god the smile on your face was not grimace-like. 
“Yep, let’s go.”
You sat with your hands in your lap, fiddling with your fingers anxiously as Seonghwa waited for your drinks. You looked over at him, watching his figure lean against the closest wall, how his long, long legs looked in those damn pants, how his fingers tapped against his arm as he waited. You barely knew him, nothing much other than knowing his name and now his coffee order, and you wondered what it would be like to get to know him. 
When he sat down in front of you, he handed you your coffee, a bright, blinding smile on his face. “I pegged you as the type to like ridiculously flavored seasonal drinks….” he paused, smirking, as you froze mid-sip on your….seasonal drink. Highly, highly sugary seasonal drink. “Guess I’m a good judge of character.”
You swallowed the party of sugar and cinnamon before giving him a shy smile. “I’m a sucker for them, to be honest.”
You sat quietly for a good while, sipping on your drink, him sipping on his. The feeling was…nice. However, you were a bit anxious as he looked at you, at your lips, as you drank from the straw. 
“You’re a cheerleader for the basketball team, right?” He tilted his head slightly, looking at you. “I feel like I’ve seen you somewhere—besides class, I mean.”
You nodded. “Yep, I cheer for the basketball team,” you took another sip of your drink. “Do you play? I think I would've seen you before, though.”
“Actually,” he started, offering you a kind smile. “I just transferred in from another university. I start official practice today, but I’ve been to many games already.”
Oh, so he’d seen you and known that you were on the cheer squad even before he approached you?
Cute. 
“Oh, wow,” you smiled, leaning closer without realizing it. “So, will you be playing in the next game, then?”
“Yes,” he looked ecstatic, like he can't wait. “We’ll see how much playing time I actually get, though. Those guys are very good—”
“Oh, I know!” you didn't mean to interrupt him, but you would take any chance to brag about your Jongho. “My best friend is the point guard.”
“You know Jongho?” Seonghwa smiled, but it looked a bit weary. “He’s a great guy.”
“He really is.” you took a large sip of your coffee, meeting Seonghwa’s gaze as you did it. His gaze fluttered to your lips once more, and he licked his own. 
He tapped against the wooden table. “Would you….want to do this again?”
You raised your brows. “This? You mean, getting coffee?”
“Not exactly,” he blinked, letting out a little chuckle. “Anything, just…we can hang out more, if you're down with that.”
Your heart fluttered a bit. “Ah, yeah, I would like that.”
He smiled. “Good,” he looked at the clock on the wall near your seat. “We gotta get to class.”
“Class, yeah, that’s right,” you were lost in his gaze, not even realizing how captivating his entire being was. You followed him out of the coffee shop, walking next to each other, until you got to the classroom.
He took the seat next to you this time, and you were beginning to suffocate from the feeling of his body being so close.
“I think I’m doomed.”
Jongho, like always, is in your room when you come back from practice. He sat up from his lazy position on your bed, eyebrows raised.
“Why’s that?”
You huffed, tossing your cheer bag onto the floor next to your desk. “What if he kisses me? I’ve never kissed anyone, fuck, I bet I’ll look like a fish trying to gulp fucking water—”
“God, you’ve been here for not even a minute, and you're blabbing on like a maniac already.” He blinked, his face deadpanned as he looked at you. “Why are you so concerned? Did the date go well?”
You groaned dramatically, tossing off your sneakers, and balancing yourself on the back of your desk chair. “He asked me for another date, but I know damn well what that means, and I can't let him find out that I am a twenty-something-year-old virgin that’s only ever kissed books and my mother.”
Jongho looked like he was about to burst out laughing at your desperate words, biting the inside of his cheek. He managed to squeak out, “Oh, I think you’re a lost cause,” he giggled. Giggled.
“This is not funny. You're no help,” you groaned, tossing your head back as you walked to your closet—when a perfect idea came to you. 
“Wait a damn minute–”
“What is it now?” Jongho sat up on your bed, legs dangling off the side.
You turned around sharply, facing him, eyes wide with mischief. His eyes widened at your expression.
“Lend me your lips,” you said, walking up to him, but he leaned back in confusion, his arms holding himself behind him.
“What?” He scoffed, unable to meet your gaze. “The hell do you mean?”
You leaned over him on the bed, him unable to lean any further back without falling. You held yourself up on both sides of him. “Oh, come on. Just once. You can help me learn how to kiss. Who else could?”
He furrowed his brows. “You’re crazy.”
“I know,” you shrugged. “But I’d rather die than embarrass myself.”
“You do know,” He started, letting out a sigh. “That friends don't kiss each other? Or did you miss that memo?”
“I swear it won't mean anything,” you pleaded, knowing you were acting crazy, immature, whatever. 
Jongho huffed, leaning forward, but grabbing your shoulders to move you away. “Listen,” he sighed, meeting your eyes. “Why don't you go ask San or Mingi?”
“Because San scares me,” you shrugged. “He’d probably eat me. And Mingi is….Mingi….”
“What does that even mean—”
“For fuck’s sake, Jongie,” you grabbed his shoulders. “Is this asking too much? We’ve been best friends for so long. How would something so trivial as a kiss mess with it?”
Jongho looked like he had something to say—a lot to say, actually. But he stayed quiet, sighing, as he looked up at you from his seated position on the bed.  
“Okay, but if I have to kiss someone as filthy as you,” he huffed, crossing his arms. “What do I get out of it?”
You hummed. “Hmm. well, what do you want?”
He smiled mischievously. “Do my paper for me. For my lit class.”
“Easy, done,” you leaned forward. “Now gimme your lips—”
“Ah ah ah, slow down,” he scoffed. “You can't just toss yourself into the kiss. You have to lead into it.”
“Got it,” you blinked, looking into his golden brown eyes, noticing how…nice they were. “How do I do that?”
“Well, I bet he’ll try to kiss you first,” Jongho ran a hand through his fluffy brown hair, matching his eyes. You took note of it, too. He stood up, causing you to subconsciously step away from him. You both now stood in the middle of your dorm room, the room dimly lit by your desk lamp, the warm hue coloring the tanned skin of his face.
“Okay,” you nodded, almost freaking yourself out for noticing his details, the slight curve of his lips, the way his hair fell across his forehead. 
Jongho’s calloused hand slowly, hesitantly, moved towards your face. You watched his eyes as his fingertips brushed your skin, watching them scrunch, watching them focus on his movements. “Maybe he’d hold you like this,” he spoke softly, eyes jumping to yours, his hand twitching slightly.
“But what do I do?” you weakly jutted out, biting the corner of your bottom lip. “Do I…touch you—touch him, too?”
He shrugged, swallowing hard. “I mean, you do what comes naturally.”
He was so close. So close. It's not like you’ve never been closer to him, because you have, but something was suffocating. Maybe this wasn't a good idea.
Maybe this is just how it’s supposed to feel.
You stared into his eyes, those brown eyes, those….sparkling, pretty eyes. You swallowed as his hand slid down to your chin, tilting it up softly.
There was an unknown emotion dancing in his gaze. You were extremely aware of the spark that was setting off from his touch. 
He leaned in closer, and as he got closer and closer, you felt your heartbeat flutter in your chest. You heard it in your ears, felt your stomach tighten. 
“I’m going to kiss you now,” he said hushedly. You noticed that the tips of his ears were flushed red, and a dusting of the color was across his cheeks. When he pressed his lips to yours, you widened your eyes from the feeling, then shut them to savor it.
His mouth moved across yours, you felt the warmth of his lips, the softness of them. His other hand—the one that wasn't holding onto your chin, rested around your hip, his grip tightening. 
You froze under his lips, unsure of how to do this. You moved your mouth against his, then, trying to move with his movements. You hesitantly wrapped your arms around his neck, unsure of what to do with them if you didn't do that. You felt a small smile in his kiss.
You pressed your body into him as his lips parted against yours. You felt the soft tickle of his shaky breaths against your skin—you could only imagine what you felt like to him.
He parted from you, only slightly, and took a sharp inhale. You still had your eyes shut tight, lips parted, as you got lost in the feeling. 
You opened them, meeting his gaze, meeting that heart-shattering look he had. His lips were red like his ears, like his cheeks. His eyes were hazy, his hands still on you. You felt your heart crumbling inside you. 
Without another word, you leaned back up to him, awkwardly wrapping your hand around his neck, fingers tangling into his hair. He shut his eyes, and let out a pleasured sound, stirring something, awakening something inside.
You kissed him this time, even knowing that you had no idea what you were doing. You just trusted these instincts you were feeling, the emotions that were overtaking your mind. Your body told you to part your lips against his sweet lips, to savor the slightly salty taste against them. To lean into his body. You couldn't help but allow yourself to touch his waist, gliding your hand down his abs, his stomach, feeling his muscles tighten under your touch. 
He sighed into your mouth, his hands gripping your waist, his fingertips brushing the bare skin under your blouse. His lips felt so good, so soft, so electrifying. This feeling was unlike any other, you were beginning to lose your breath, your senses, your mind.
And when you let out a little moan—without intending to, you were shocked back to reality. You pulled away from him quickly, moving your hands to your sides, trying to catch your breath. Jongho was also huffing, begging for oxygen, as he stood in front of you. His lips were bright red now; his eyes were wide.
“Ah, um,” you cleared your throat, forcing out a laugh. “So, did I do a good job?”
Jongho blinked, still looking out of it. “Huh? Oh, uh, yeah.” He swallowed, nodded, and crossed his arms across his chest. “Mhm. For your first kiss, you did good.” 
Good? Good? God, that felt euphoric. Like you were drugged, high, out in space. You still couldn't get your heartbeat to slow. “Great.” That was all you managed to squeak out, now that you were suddenly aware of the ability to just kiss him again. You realized that the air was odd now, that something felt different. 
“You tasted like sweat,” you playfully added, letting out an awkward laugh as you gave him a shoulder punch. “Maybe I should've kissed San or Mingi instead.”
“I am a great kisser, I’ll have you know—” Jongho boasted, but you interrupted him. 
“Pfft,” you waved a hand as if you weren't just about to hyperventilate from his kiss, his touch. “You sucked, you’re a horrible teacher—”
“Oh?” he huffed, gripping your arms just below your elbows. “I’ll kiss you again, I’ll prove it, I’ll do you one better—”
“Fine! More practice for me, anyway.”
Jongho let out a grumble of incoherent words before grabbing you by the back of the neck and pressing his mouth to yours once more, his lips gliding against yours. 
You grabbed the fabric of his shirt, tightening your grip as he pushed his tongue through your lips, into your mouth. You let out a sigh as he did it, his fingertips gripping your hair on the back of your head.
After a long few minutes of eating each other, He pulled away this time. He let go of you, his hands falling at his sides. “There,” he breathed. “Now you know how to handle a kiss like that. You know, just in case.”
You licked your bottom lip, sparks still flying around your body. You tasted him still, the saltiness of his sweat. You smelled the woodsy cologne he used, the minty taste of gum. 
“Thanks,” you smiled, trying your best not to let these thoughts of him overtake you. “For helping me with this. You’re such a good best friend.”
“Ah, yeah,” he sniffed, forcing a smile. “I should, uh. I should go, I have something to submit before midnight, so,” He gulped, taking a step away from you. “But happy to help, of course. Now you owe me my paper.”
“Aye, aye, captain,” you scoffed, smiling playfully as he walked to the door to put on his shoes.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” he called out as he opened the door, leaving after you offered him a wave goodbye.
And once the door shut, you nearly lost your breath, falling onto your bed.
“Oh god,” you breathed, putting a hand to your mouth. “What was that? I—ugh!” you groaned, thrashing your legs around. “Why the fuck was he so hot? Get a grip, get a grip.” you ran your hands aggressively through your hair and gripping it. “Fuck I think my brain lost too much oxygen.”
You couldn't sleep one bit—not at all. Every time you closed your eyes, all you saw was Jongho, and all you felt was him.
A few days pass and you barely see your best friend.
It's not that he’s ignoring you or vice versa; it's that he had an away game a good distance away and was off campus for a good few days. 
While he was gone, you wondered if he was thinking the same way you were, if he felt something, too, or if it was just normal to have feelings during a kiss. 
Irritated by your stupid mind, you were unsure about the feeling in your chest when you saw Jongho in the library; his baseball hat flipped backwards over his soft brown hair.
You would look odd if you ran away, right? Right.
You strutted over to where he was sitting. He always loved the window seats, mainly to people watch. You sat down in the seat across from him.
“When’d you get back?”
He lifted his eyes to yours. “Last night,” he grumbled, flipping a page in the book in front of him.
“What are you reading?” you leaned forward on your elbows.
He reacted much worse than you thought, flying backward into his chair, a terrified look on his face. 
“Yo, I’m not gonna bite you, Jeez,” you raised a brow, moving your gaze to the book. “Oh, ew, anatomy. No thanks.”
He scoffed, picking off an invisible—or maybe an extremely small—piece of lint from his black hoodie. He didn't say anything in response, he just continued what he was doing.
“So,” you tried to continue the conversation with him without it turning to mush. “I’m gonna be going to Seonghwa’s frat tonight. There's a party or something.”
He looked at you with shock. “You’re going to a party?”
“Is that so hard to believe?” you rolled your eyes, leaning back to cross your arms around your chest. Jongho’s vision dipped to the movement.
“Well, given that you hate crowded places,” he trailed off, not really having another excuse. “I just can't see you going to—”
“y/n?” a voice softly murmured from your left, and both you and Jongho turned to see Seonghwa walking up to your table, a bag slung across his broad shoulder. His hair was pulled up in a half up half down do, little black strands framing his unfathomable face.
Jongho, in the corner of your eye, looked away from the tall basketball player, opting for the view outside the library.
“Seonghwa?” you smiled, uncrossing your arms to look less like a grumpy bitch. “What’s up?”
You didn't even look to see the irritation on Jongho’s face.
“I was coming in to study but then I saw you in the corner of my eye,” he smiled, beamed, really, adjusting the bag on his shoulder. He then nodded to Jongho, offering him a smile, too. “Hey, Jongho.”
Your best friend managed to give him a smile back, although you knew his face all too well—that was a damn grimace. “Hey.” 
You looked between the two boys as seonghwa spoke again. “Hey, me and y/n are gonna be at the party tonight. You wanna come? The other guys on the team will be there, too.”
“Well, I can't imagine San missing a function,” Jongho scoffed, cracking his knuckles aggressively. “But I guess I’ll come, too.”
You nearly dropped your jaw onto the floor.
“Really?” you interjected, shocked. “I can't imagine you going to a party—”
“Anyway,” Jongho cleared his throat, ignoring you. “What time?”
Seonghwa furrowed his brows as he tried to recall. “Uh, I think ten? It goes till two, no later,” He looked to you then. “Do you wanna go for some lunch?”
You blushed. Jongho huffed. “Oh, yes. That would be nice,” you smiled, to which Jongho rolled his eyes in response. You stood up from your seat and offered your best friend a playful wink. “See you tonight, jongie.”
When you walked away, seonghwa slugged an arm around your shoulder on the way out. Jongho, still in his seat, tightened his grip on the textbook as he watched you leave.
And then he couldn't even enjoy people-watching when he saw you walk down the sidewalk with that string bean.
You didn't hear from jongho the rest of the day, and even when ten o’clock came, he was M.I.A. You shrugged it off, trying too hard to ignore the tug in your chest, the desire to go to his room and kiss him again. 
You made it to the frat house that sat on the end of the Greek life strip in town. It was a tall, skinny building that looked way too nice to be lived in by a bunch of boys. You made sure to wear your filthy Converse, knowing damn well whether booze, puke, or a plethora of other fluids would end up all over them. Despite not going to many parties in your lifetime, you still had common sense. 
You walked into the house, getting bombarded with tons of odd smells, some good and some bad. The interior was dark, lit with random colored lights that danced all over the walls, the people. 
Loud, ungodly music blared through oddly positioned speakers in the wall, and there was a sea of people talking and carrying on. You weren't sure how the fuck they could hear each other over the awful music.
You walked further into the house, making a B-line to where you assumed the alcohol was. There was a bunch of beer cans, and you grabbed one with ease, cracking it open and chugging it like a champ. However, the beer sucked ass, leaving an awful taste in your mouth. You must've made a face.
“Icky?” Seonghwa’s smooth voice envelopes you with comfort. 
You turn to him, offering him a sincere smile. He looked great, as always, with his hair growing even longer. “Very, but if it gets me drunk, I’ll handle it.”
“So brave,” he chuckled, standing closer to you by the second. Your mind wanders to the thought of him touching you. Would it feel as good as it did with Jongho? Would his hands be gentle? Would his lips taste as sweet? 
His hand on the small of your back interrupted your thoughts.
You needed to be drunk. Quick, so you can handle these stupid ideas.
“It’s good to see you here,” he starts, but you can't help but look at his lips. You weren't thinking about them—no, rather, you were thinking of Jongho’s. Would Seonghwa feel the same?
You took another sip of your drink to get the last drop before grabbing another. “Do they have something else? This shit sucks.”
Seonghwa looked at you for a long moment before nodding in a direction. “There’s vodka in the cabinet if you want it?”
You let out a sigh of relief, but still, you kept drinking the shitty beer. “Yes, god, yes.”
After you got ahold of the vodka, you regretted your choice against the beer.
You must've blacked out for a bit—you don't remember how you got in the living room, how you got onto Seonghwa’s lap, how his lips were on your neck. You delightfully craned your neck to feel it better, to feel his hot breaths, his hands on your waist. However, when you opened your eyes, you realized that you were imagining someone else under you.
You pulled away from him, but you didn't get off him. You looked into his eyes, seeing the desire drip from them. You were too messed up—blame that on your shitty tolerance, to care what you were doing right now. “Can I try something?” you fluttered your eyelashes, not meaning it in a sultry way, but it came out that way.
“Of course,” Seonghwa mused, a little smile prickling at his lips.
Lips that you wanted to kiss—not because you needed to, but because you needed to see something, feel something—have something to compare to that ethereal experience you had with your best friend.
And at his approval, you leaned forward, doing everything that you were taught, and pressed your lips to Seonghwa’s. He responded well, gripping the back of your head as he kissed you back, and you slid your tongue in his mouth, half expecting to feel something, anything.
But there you were, imagining Jongho, his smell, his taste, the way he cautiously touched you and held you. Nothing can compare, not even this.
You pulled away from him, eyebrows raised, mouth agape. He looked confused at your reaction but put on a sloppy smile. “Everything okay?”
You were going to say no. you were going to cry out and say that you were going to die because you kept thinking about Jongho. You couldn't even kiss a hot guy, a guy you wanted to date, without thinking how much better it felt with Jongho. Everything felt better with him. It was comfortable, unnerving, exciting, all at the same time.
You smiled, but with how drunk you were, you could assume that it looked like a grimace. “I uh, yeah, I just gotta….go do something—-bye,” you huffed out, offering him a little, awkward wave, before you ran out of the spinning room.
You ended up on the back porch, not sure how you got there, but the world was spinning. Your chest was aching. You needed air, anything, you needed to breathe.
The cool air hit you just right, enveloping your lungs, helping you breathe. Your skin was hot, flaming underneath your clothes, and you were sure your cheeks were bright red. After noticing a couple making out in the corner, you grimaced and ran back into the house.
God, what a shitshow.
You avoided seonghwa narrowly, making your way up the creaky, thin staircase to get your own space. You opened the first door you got to, tossed yourself in, and slammed your back against the door with a sigh of relief.
That relief didn't last long.
“y/n, what the hell?” Jongho nearly screeched, turning his body slightly as he stood over the toilet, zipping up his pants in a frenzy. “The fuck? Don't you know how to knock?”
You didn't say anything. You just took a deep breath, your gaze falling over him.
“y/n?” He repeated, standing a bit awkwardly on the other side of the room, leaning over to flush the toilet. He looked a bit rough around the edges as he washed his hands quickly, looking over at you as he dried them. He walked up to you now, hesitantly, unsure about your expression.
You fiddled with your fingers as the world slowed around you.
“Are you gonna talk?” He scoffed playfully, his eyes raking your body, forcing themselves up to your face. “Are you okay?”
“No,” you swallowed, shaking your head, the door behind you the only thing holding you up.
He gave you a concerned look, running a damp hand through his silky hair, and you couldn't help but think about how wonderful it would be to rake your hands through it, too. “No, that you're not okay, or no, that you’re not gonna talk?
You blinked. “....yes.”
He sighed. His eyes looked hazy, not quite to the extent yours probably looked, but still, he was not in his right mind, either. You took a shaky breath, watching those brown irises fall to your lips, to your chest. 
You clench your fingers together, your body, dying to do something your heart would regret. You swallowed hard, sighing.
“Aren’t you acting like this because you have something to say?” He asked, his words dripping like honey from his lips.
You shook your head. “No.”
He looked like he was fighting a smile. “I think you are.”
“No, I’m not–I’m not acting like this because I have something to say.” Your mind was already screaming at you, begging you not to do anything. Begging you not to say anything. “Because I want to do something.”
The air was stuffy. The bathroom was filthy, the window was cracked open, blowing in a slight breeze, gently running up your arms, sending chills down your spine. 
Jongho tilted his head. “To do what?”
The vodka in your basically vodka-virgin body was bubbling under your skin, infiltrating your mind, your blood. It was taking control over your every move, every idea, everything. So when he asked you that, when he looked like the most beautiful person in the world as he spoke, with his pretty ass hair and his lips and his flushed cheeks, you knew what you wanted to do.
“To kiss you,” you didn't stutter. You stayed put against the door despite your words. “I just wanna do it again. Every time I look at you, I want to do it.”
Jongho’s eyes widened, but he didn't run away like you thought he would. He just stood there, breathlessly, his hands at his sides and his mouth parted. It’s like he wanted to do it too, with the way his fingers twitched as you spoke, with the way his lips almost curled up completely. 
You pushed off the door, taking a step towards him. When he didn't back away, you took another step. You were so close to him that you were able to feel the soft, hot breaths he was letting out against your skin. His breath smelled like that disgusting beer, but it didn't matter at all—actually, you wanted to taste it on his lips, on his tongue.
You reached out a hand, the room spinning around you. Your fingertips met his cheek, his hot skin. You felt a surge of electricity run through your body as you touched him, as you looked into his eyes. His gaze was unlike anything else you have ever seen. His eyes were zeroed in on you, shutting slowly as you rubbed your hand against his skin. He let out a soft breath, a content sigh, and his eyes were on yours again.
He took in a breath, eyes on your lips. You were too drunk to think about how the look on his face made no sense—friends shouldn't look at each other the way he was looking at you.
You leaned forward, and when he didn't flinch away, when he actually leaned forward as well, you smiled to yourself, and pressed your lips to his.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling his body to yours. His hips knocked into yours, his mouth parting, swallowing you whole. He shoved you against the sink, the countertop stabbing the small of your back, but you felt absolutely no pain. You arched your body into his, as if it were instinct, and his hands ravaged your bare skin. He was desperate, trying to catch his breath as best he could while he kissed you. 
Your hands found the nape of his neck, fingers tightening in his brown hair. He let out a little moan into your mouth, his hands caging you in against the sink. Accidentally, his forehead bumped yours, causing you to bite his lip. 
You pulled away, but just for a moment, smiling at him, at the redness of his lips from your gloss and your bite. He looked breathtaking in front of you, so human, so perfect. So you leaned in to kiss him again, nose knocking into his, but it didn't matter if you were sloppy. It just mattered that he was the one you were kissing. 
“y/n,” he breathed against your lips, his hands now on your hips, one curving around your ass. “We shouldn't be doing this—”
“Shh,” you hissed, slapping his shoulder, keeping your lips against his. “I don't care right now.”
You deepened the kiss, and as he pressed up against you, you felt something hard press into you; you felt a deep rumble from him into your mouth. The pool between your thighs.
Suddenly, the door to the bathroom opened. Mingi stood there, his jaw down to the floor, as he took in the scene in front of him. Jongho must not have heard the door, as his hands were still clawing at you like a goddamn animal, his lips on your neck now. You quickly gripped Jongho’s shoulders and pushed him away.
“What? You just said—” He took notice of where you were looking, turning his head to see Mingi’s shocked expression. “Oh.”
“Oh, dear god!” Mingi looked like he couldn't hide the smile peeking through his lips. “I knew it!”
Jongho took a whole century taking his hands off you, finally stepping away, leaving you cold, empty. “It’s not what you think—”
Mingi threw his hands up in the air, smirking. “Ay, I didn't see anything. Carry on.”
With one last look, Mingi shut the door, leaving you alone with Jongho. The feeling in the room was completely different from a moment ago.
“I….” he started, then sighed, unable to look at you. “I gotta go.”
“Jongho—” You went to move toward him, but he left the bathroom as quickly as he could, stumbling into the doorframe, and out of sight. You were left to your own devices, standing in the middle of the bathroom, hair a mess, lips bright and painful, and a mark on your neck from your best friend.
If you could call him that…
It’s as if he disappeared.
You haven't seen Jongho in days. You were even too nervous to go to his room this time, not knowing how to approach him after kissing him like that. After you felt the hardness of his cock against your stomach. The wetness between your thighs. Something you have never felt before.
After a few, empty, lonely nights in your room, you took the initiative to go find him at the late hour of midnight—To ask if he feels this intense craving for you just like you do for him. But when you arrived at his dorm, San told you he wasn't there.
“He’s been super sick. I thought he was with you,” He shrugged, confused.
“He’s sick?” your eyes widened. 
San nodded, messy hair from sleep. “Sorry, maybe he’s with Mingi?”
After your encounter with San, you made your way to Mingi’s dorm. But, once again, Jongho was nowhere to be found.
So you went to the only place you thought to look.
And there he was, under the bright lights, taking a shot at the three-point line on the courts near the rec center. He missed the shot and stood there a moment before going to grab his rebound.
But the ball rolled to where you were, as if it meant to. Jongho stood still as you grabbed the ball.
He stayed silent. You weren't sure whether to move closer or just pass him the ball back.
“Are you going to give me it?” He spoke blandly, sweat dripping down his forehead despite the cold air surrounding him.
You sighed, putting the ball under your arm. “Jongho, it’s cold out here.”
He sniffed, his nose red. He didn't look at you. “Just give me the ball, dammit.”
You blinked, watching the cold air show as you exhaled. “Why are you ignoring me?”
He rolled his eyes, taking in a breath. “Dammit, y/n—”
“You’re doing it on purpose,” you began to dribble the ball—very sloppily, but it didn't matter. You dribbled past him towards the hoop, tossing the ball up, watching it go through the net. “Ignoring me, I mean.”
“No, I’m not,” he huffed, moving to grab the ball from your shot. He made his way back up to the top of the key, away from you.
“Yes, you are.” you walked up to him, putting your hand out so he couldn't shoot. “Just be honest!”
With a huff of cold air, jongho tossed the ball away, an aggravated look on his face. “For fuck’s sake, y/n, Yes. I’m annoyed.”
You blinked, standing only a few feet away from him. “Why?” you asked, probably stupidly, given the irritated look on his face.
He sighed, tightening his hands into fists. “...Because….because I’m a man, too, you know.” he started, running his hands through his hair aggressively, clenching his jaw. “ You change in front of me, kiss me, do everything that causes my brain to spin. I’m sick of acting like I'm okay with it.”
You stood there, frozen. The air felt even colder as winter wrapped its arms around your bare skin.
“Does that mean you didn't like it?” you wondered out loud, possibly too immature, too inexperienced. You had no idea what you were feeling, why you felt this way. All you knew is that you wanted to spend every moment with him, to kiss him, to lay in bed with him. Things you did normally, but things felt different. 
“Didn't like what?” He asked, his eyes wide.
“The kiss,” you looked into his eyes. “The kisses.”
Jongho stood tensely, unsure of what to do. You watched his eyes flicker up to the sky as little flurries fell, catching themselves in his hair.
“y/n,” he took a sharp breath in. “don't you get it? I can't kiss you. You can't kiss me. You can't….touch me like that, change in front of me, and not expect me to get flustered!” He nearly shouted the last part, and turned to the side away from you, aggravated beyond words.
“I….I’m sorry,” you spoke out, taking a step towards him. “I’m sorry that I feel this way—”
“Feel what?” he scoffed, turning back to you, a pained smirk on his lips. “You should be sorry for making me feel this….for causing me so many headaches, for god sake why the fuck am I out here when it’s fucking snowing, jesus christ you piss me off—”
“Jongho,” you interrupted his freakout, his word vomit. He stared at you with those beautiful eyes of his. “What are you trying to say?” you spoke in a small voice.
His eyes were frantic, going back and forth from eye to eye. “I…. can't do this.”
“Do what?” you felt the flurries dance against your skin, dance as they fell around you.
“I can't act like your friend anymore.” He bit his lip. “You have no idea what you do to me. What you’ve been doing to me.”
You took a step closer, but he backed away.
“I don't understand—”
“Just go,” He pleaded. 
“You do things to me too!” you groaned, finally done with his attitude. “Will you knock it off? You’re not the only one confused here—”
“Oh, I confuse you?” He looked at you like you had two heads. “I’m sorry, I only kissed you because you were trying to get another guy. I kissed you so you could know how to do it, but you want to know something?” He paused, suddenly right up on you, the space gone between you. “I haven't kissed anyone either. I just…you. It’s just been you! I didn't know what I was doing, either!”
“Is that so bad?” you pleaded, your eyes bleeding into his. “Is it so bad that you had to kiss me? Should I apologize for wanting to do it again? That I haven't stopped thinking about you since?” you frantically looked into his eyes. 
“Just…” Jongho sighed, his eyes a bit watery. “Lleave me be.” 
The look on his face was enough. You took a step back, and then another. 
“I won't apologize for my feelings, for whatever this feeling is,” you admitted. “But I am sorry I caused you trouble.” before you left him there, you looked up to him once more, snow falling around you. “Good luck at your game, tomorrow.”
You turned on your heel, not understanding a single thing that just unfolded, that was just said. He made no sense; you made none, either. It was just a bunch of words, unnecessary words, rifting your friendship. But one thing was for certain—you couldn't repair this without a few missing pieces. 
Jongho stood as still as a statue as he watched you walk away.
You sat on the bench in your cheerleading uniform, your heart beating a mile a minute as you watched the game unfold in front of you. 
It was approaching halftime. Jongho was sprinting down the sideline, limping slightly as he moved. He passed the ball beautifully to San, who was wide open for the layup. 
You couldn't focus on anything—didn't even cheer when San made the shot. You just sat and stared into space, your eyes following jongho, watching his wince as he backed up down the court. 
“He’s hurt,” you muttered under your breath, stomach tightening. 
Jongho continued playing his heart out, but you knew something was wrong. However, as halftime came, he walked away from the court just fine and into the locker room, not giving you a single passing glance as he walked past you. Seonghwa did, however, but you weren't even paying attention to that.
After a few long moments, the team came back out. You had to cheer, but your heart wasn't in it. Jongho, once again, walked right by you, and when you were about to jump up and ignore everything that was said yesterday to make sure you were okay, the buzzer rang. 
The game went on, the score going back and forth until the last quarter. Jongho stood at mid-court, calling a play, but the guy guarding him was aggressive. He tried to make a move around him, squeaking his sneakers against the hardwood, but it was no use. The defender followed him with ease, sliding his feet in perfect position.
The gym was in hysterics as Jongho pushed for the bucket, taking a side step into a euro step, but suddenly, oh so suddenly, Jongho crashed to the ground in a thud before getting the shot off.
The gym went silent. Jongho hissed in pain, his eyebrows knit tight. The athletic trainer ran out to see him as the game was put on hold with less than a minute to go. You stood up, not even realizing what you were doing. All you could feel was a pain in your chest as you saw him hurt, the intense feeling to take his pain away. You watched in despair as he was lifted off the floor, as he was carried out of the gym.
You swallowed hard, your ears ringing. Your teammates tried to get you focused, as the game was going to continue, but you jumped up and pushed through, making your way to the locker room desperately. 
“Jongho?” you panted, turning the corner to enter the boy's locker room. You sucked in a breath as you see him in pain, lying down on the bench, a few others around him as he nearly cried in pain. 
“Jongho!” you cried out, rushing to his side. His eyes were frantic, wide, a mess. The trainer took off his knee brace slowly as you approached. “Oh my god, are you okay?”
Jongho met your gaze through his watery eyes, every other emotion gone other than…whatever this was. He almost let out a sigh of relief as he saw you. You knelt down next to him, gripping his hand, and he held yours tighter. 
“y/n,” he murmured, sucking in a sharp breath as the trainer surveyed his leg. “Did I…did I do it again? Please tell me I didn't—”
You looked at the man who was assessing his injury. “Did he tear it again?” you panicked, remembering how awful this was for him back then. How traumatizing it was, how horrible it was for him to gain his strength again. You couldn't stand to see him in pain.
“I…I don't know,” the man admitted. “It’s too swollen to tell. You’ll need to get this checked out—”
“Goddammit,” Jongho hissed, shutting his eyes tightly, and swallowing hard. That was when you realized that it might not even be the pain from the injury—no, it was his trauma. The memory of his hard work all down the drain. 
“I’m here,” you breathed, tucking his hair behind his ear and away from his face. “It’ll be okay.”
The buzzer rang, and screams followed. Jongho looked at you, not a care in the world other than that you were there with him, just like before.
“You’ll be alright,” you repeated softly, your heart aching at his pain. “This will be okay.”
“From the MRI, it looks like everything is still intact,” the doctor spoke with a tone of arrogance. “You did weaken your surgical graft, however. You’ll need some PT and rest.”
Jongho stared down at his leg, his hand still gripping yours. He breathed a sigh of relief but didn't say anything else. 
“I’ll write up a referral for that, so just hold on a moment.”
You were left in silence in the middle of the emergency room, Jongho sitting up straight on the bed with a big icepack on top of his knee. He was starting right at it, his lips downturned.
You wanted to ease his troubles. To make him feel better. Nothing felt worse than seeing him like this.
You didn't know what to say. You really couldn't say anything. You were so overwhelmed with the pain you felt as you looked at him as if it were your own. You hated his tears that begged to fall and never did.
“Hey,” you mumbled softly, squeezing his hand. It took him a minute to move his gaze to you, and when he did, his eyes spoke a thousand words. “See? It will be okay.”
He sighed, his face contorting as he fought his tears. “I…I’m sorry.”
“For what?” you weren't thinking of anything else other than what was in front of you. You rubbed your thumb against his knuckles, trying to soothe him.
“For how I acted.” He looked down at your hands, how yours was touching his, how his fingers were tight around yours. He didn't want to let go—neither did you. “I was just upset.”
“I know,” you nodded, swallowing. “I was, too.”
He looked into your eyes. “y/n, I…” he paused, the beeping of his heart rate speeding up in the background. “I just don't know why I acted like that I…I guess I got caught up in how I feel about you, and it confused me.”
You blinked. “How do you feel about me?”
He let out an uneasy laugh. “Isn't it obvious?”
You shook your head. “I… don't really know much of anything. Much of these feelings,” you acknowledged, biting your bottom lip anxiously. 
He let out a genuine laugh. “Me too.”
“So, how do you feel?” You tucked a piece of your hair that fell loose from your bow, suddenly aware of how much of a wreck you probably looked like. You were still in your cheer uniform, Jongho in his basketball one, and you were sure you had smeared mascara everywhere. “About me, I mean.”
He took in a sharp breath. “This isn't fair, I’m like, high from pain meds. I don't know what i’m saying.”
You smiled widely, feeling such immense love for the man in front of you.
Oh shit.
Are you….in love?
“All I know is that I haven't stopped thinking about you since I met you,” He chuckled anxiously. “I don't understand why, and it's just increasingly worse after you keep kissing me, it's making my head spin.”
Jongho yawned slightly after his somewhat confession, his eyes fluttering. 
He was so pretty. So, so pretty. You wanted to sleep with him. Next to him, cuddle with him, kiss his face, his eyelids, his cheeks, his everything. You wanted him to do everything to you that you dreamed of.
Oh fuck, you definitely are in love with him.
“Holy fuck—” you paused, staring at him, wide eyed at your realization.
“What?” He furrowed his brows.
You tried to control your overwhelming thoughts. “I just realized something…” you met his gaze, holding onto it tightly. “Are we…are we in love? I mean, I think at least I might be—”
“Holy shit, we might be,” Jongho gulped, a knowing smile curling at his lips. As if he knew this, at least on his end, for much longer than you have. He looked at you, then at his leg, and back at you. “Are you in love with me?”
“I think so?” you questioned, your chest aching. Jongho’s heart began to beat faster and faster, as seen on the monitor next to him. You leaned towards him, blushing as his heart rate jumped over one hundred. 
Jongho let out an anxious laugh. “You sound super confident.”
You would've kissed him right then and there, prove to him that you loved him, if it wasn't for that awful doctor. 
You helped jongho hobble out of the hospital, his leg wrapped in ice and his arms wrapped around you. You were hyper aware of the smell of sweat, the light remnant of his woodsy cologne. You heard his breath hitch as your fingertips curled around his arm as you walked toward the street for a cab.
“God, standing up really messed me up.” he wobbled a bit. “I don't know what they gave me, but fuck, I feel wonderful,” he giggled, nudging his head into the crook of your neck.
There was a mix of comfort and chaos as you got in the cab, his head on your shoulder, his hair a mess. His arm was slung over you, his eyes closed, his lips parted against your collarbone. He felt comforting, yes, but also his damn lips started to move against your skin.
“Jongho,” you breathed, trying to keep quiet as the cab driver carried on. “Stop it—”
“Mmmh,” he groaned into your neck, kissing it again, trailing up towards your jawline. 
“The fuck, did they give you viagra?” you nearly choked as his hand that was around your shoulder fell to your waist, tightening on the curve above your hip. His hand moved lower, past your hip, meeting the curve right before he could reach your—
“Hey,” you whisper yelled, smacking his cheek lightly. 
He opened his eyes, those brown irises sparkling despite the dark car. “Oh, its y/n,” he smiled, meeting your gaze, but you watched it fall to your lips. “You look pretty.”
You scoffed. “You don't know what you're talking about right now—”
“Oh, I do,” he smiled lopsidedly, his hand now coming up to cradle your cheek. “I know what i’m doing.”
You smirked. “I think you’re loopy.”
“Maybe a little,” he shrugged, smiling, his eyes curving into smiles too. “But I know what I want to do.”
You tilted your head, raising your brows. “And what’s that?”
He smiled villianously, teeth barred. “Do you really want to know?”
You held in your laugh, but managed to nod.
He took in a breath, letting it out in an exaggerated sigh. “I want to fuck you so bad,” he huffed, his head falling right back onto your shoulder. “So, so bad. I’ve always wanted to—”
“Jongho,” you blinked. “You’re high from pain meds, you don't know what you're—”
“Oh, but I do know,” he sat up quickly, eyes dazed, hair a mess on top of his head. He reached out a hand, tucking your hair behind your ears with a boyish smile. He focused on your face, on your eyes, your lips. His expression changed, his smile falling. “I wanted to tell you about how I feel about you.”
You bit your lip. “You did.” 
He waved a hand, flopping it around. “Nah, I didn't.”
“Yes, don't you remember?” you scoffed playfully. “We just had this whole talk like twenty minutes ago—”
“Aye, stop it, I had something to say but now I forgot!” he groaned, tossing his head back against the headrest. He then turned his head to your direction. “Did I ever tell you how pretty you are?”
“You just did,” you smiled.
“Oh, that’s right.” he swallowed, looking at your lips. “Did I ever tell you that I want to kiss you? Like, all the time?”
You shook your head, giving up on the fight against his high ass. 
“Well, I just want to kiss you, over and over again, and then when you started kissing me, I think I went crazy,” he blinked slowly, eyes covering every inch of your face. He leaned forward. “You really fucked me up, you know?”
You frowned. “Did I?”
“Pfft,” he huffed. “Are you kidding? You would change in front of me, lay in bed with me, touch me, everything I….” he swallowed hard. “How was I supposed to react to your tits? Your ass? You think i’ve never gotten hard from it?” you wanted to shut his nonsense up, but he kept going on. “I’ve had to literally leave just to jack off so you didn't find out—”
“Woah, woah,” you rose your eyebvrows. “You’re a mess right now, youll regret what you’re saying tomorrow—”
“I wont,” he sniffed, eyes meeting yours. “I’m done with acting like I don't think about you naked—”
“Jongho, shut it, we’re not alone—”
“We should be alone so I can do everything I want to you,” he pressed a sloppy kiss to your temple. “God, I want to do everything to you.”
You wanted to push him away. You wanted to tell him no—but…his lips, his words, his breath felt so good, so intoxicating. He pressed a kiss to your jaw, to the corner of your lips. “Can we fuck now?”
You closed your eyes, taking in a breath. “The hell is wrong with you? We’re in a cab—”
He ignored you, his lips continuing to find their way around your face. “When we get back?”
You looked down at his knee, how it was wrapped, how much pain it had caused him. “You just hurt your leg, and you’re not in your right mind.”
“Oh, i’m completely in my right mind,” he kissed your ear, letting a little breath of air tickle you. “I’ve wanted this forever.”
You sighed, your breath shaking, your chest tight. You had absolutely no experience—you’ve never had sex, never did anything with a man other than what you were doing now, and the little kiss you gave seonghwa. 
“I’m a virgin,” you whispered softly, embarrased. However, you felt the most comfortable with jongho. He was your everything.
“So am I,” he admitted, smiling. “We can learn together.”
“God, we’re so lame,” you breathed, smiling. 
Jongho, however, did not care about any words. He nuzzled into your collarbone, pressing a kiss there, over and over again. 
“So, does that mean we can have sex?”
You assisted jongho into your building, helping him into the elevator and pressing your floor while he leaned against the wall. 
The silence was deafening. You were sure he was able to hear your heart beat through your chest.
As the doors closed, you let a sigh out. 
“y/n,” he breathed. Behind you, his eyes were on you.
“Hm?” you hummed, afraid to turn to him, afraid of what you would do, what he would do. 
“I love you,” he spoke. 
You’ve both basically said it only an hour before. Only then, it didn't feel real. Now, maybe it was the fact that Jongho’s eyes have cleared up, his expression was raw. He looked nervous, he looked anxious. This was all new, all foreign—but Jongho wasn't new, wasn't different. He’s always been him, been by your side, your rock, your everything.
“I….love you too, dummy.”
When the elevator reached your floor, it took you a second to move. You helped him down the hall, and when you reached your door, you paused.
“Do you…want to…” you trailed off, unsure if that was only the drugs talking earlier.
When you turned to jongho, he had a sinister smile on his face. 
“You mean,” he nodded toward your room. “What I think you mean?”
“Well, jeez,” you scoffed, turning around to open your door. “As if you weren't the one all over me in the cab—”
A second later, you both stood in the entrance of your room, both of your hearts beating like crazy.
He entered the room after you, slowly shutting the door. The room was dark—you weren't even trying to turn the lights on.
You turned to jongho, watching him stand with his fists at his sides, his fingers gripping the fabric of his basketball shorts.
“How do we…” you took in a sharp breath, meeting his gaze. His eyes were wide, dripping with love, lust, with so much. You weren't sure if they always looked like that, if they looked at you like that. Those eyes….
“Let’s just, he winced a bit as he stepped closer. “Just stay where you are.”
When he got close enough, you saw the worry in his expression. The hesitancy, the love. He looked up, and his eyes spoke a thousand unspeakable words. His hand reached out, pausing at the hem of your cheerleading uniform. 
You let out an anxious laugh at his face, as he looked so conflicted. You didn't say anything though, and after a moment, he tugged your top right over your head, grinning like a goofball at the red lacy bra you had on.
“For me?” he murmured, his hand subconsciously drifting to run over your skin, his fingertips pressing against the thin fabric of your bra. He met your gaze, his jaw tightening.
You reached for his top now, the loose jersey easily pulling over his head—the jersey that was hiding the soft curves of muscle. You’ve seen him shirtless many times, an unimaginable amount of times—but this time, it was different. You ran a hand down the pane of his chest, across the mounds of muscle, down his soft but muscular frame. He was perfect, absolutely sexy, breathtaking, gorgeous. 
He shivered under your touch, meeting your gaze. He moved to take his shorts off, but winced. “Hold on, i’ll take them off—” but you both leaned down at the same time, crashing your heads together, causing a storm of laughter.
“God, we’re so not good at this,” He chuckled, smiling bright even in the dark room.
“No, not really,” you grinned, reaching down at his hips, pulling his shorts off, tugging a bit at the erection that bulged out. You held in your pride, the fact that he was already so turned on by just taking your clothes off.
His shorts fell down to his ankles, his underwear with them, leaving him completely naked, completely vulnerable in front of you. He looked at you with those damn eyes, those irises that held every emotion possible for you.
You took a second to take him in, his thickness, his length. You swallowed hard, suddenly aware that…that would go inside you, and it would probably tear your virgin self to shreds.
He then gripped the waistband of your skirt, tugging you to him. He was slightly taller than you, so when your body hit his, you felt his cock against your lower stomach, feeling a pulsing ache in your body. His fingers glided against the bare skin of your waist as he pulled your skirt over your hips, and when they fell, you were left standing in your mismatched underwear, begging him to take it off of you, too.
However, he just stood there like a deer in headlights, staring at the curves of your body, and the smoothness of your skin. His mouth parted, his eyes grew wide, and his hands twitched to touch you, to ravage you, to swallow you whole as if you were roadkill and he was a vulture.
An anxious vulture.
He reached around you, the heat of his body warming you, and his hands clasped around the clip of your bra. He fiddled with it for a good moment, and as he started getting irritated that he couldn't get it, you laughed. “Goddamn this thing has you locked up like fort knox—”
“Do you want me to get it—”
“No, no, i’ll be extremely embarassed, let me do it.” he continued to try to get it off you, and finally, it fell off you, onto the ground, and Jongho stood with a proud smile on his lips. “Fuck yeah, finally.”
But, right after his words of triumph, his eyes fell to your full breasts. His eyes widened, and he gave into his desires, letting himself grab one, calloused fingers gliding against your nipple.
“Oh, fuck y/n,” he breathed, both his hands coming up to cradle your breasts, to feel you up. He took in a breath, eyes unable to leave your body. “You’re absolutely beautiful.”
He dipped his head, taking in a breast into his mouth, flicking his tongue over your nipple. You felt your stomach tighten, felt your wetness pool at your thighs. He looked up to your eyes as he sucked, and when he saw your ecstatic expression, he quickly pulled away.
He didn't spare an extra second to claw at your underwear, satisfyingly watching them fall to the ground, leaving you both completely naked in the middle of the room. He looked at you, love dripping from his chocolate eyes.
And thats when you gripped the back of his neck. “I’m sorry if I don't do this very well,” you admitted, twirling your fingers in his hair. He didn't seem to even hear what you said as his eyes remained on your lips.
“God, we cant be friends anymore,” he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours, he hesitated, lips hovering over yours, his breath shaky, tangling with yours. “Definetly not, fuck.”
You tilted your chin forward, lips so close, so so close. His hands found your hips, fingernails leaving marks in your skin. 
And with one last look into your eyes, jongho sighed, letting go of everything. He pressed his soft lips to yours, taking you in like he hasn't kissed you before. Like he’s always wanted to. He breathed into you, moving his hands to cradle your face, to get as close to you as possible. 
You arched your body against his, bucking your hips into his, and he grunted in response. You fell backwards onto the bed, him on top of you, but as you fell, he bit your lip so hard you let out a little yelp.
“Oh shit,” he gasped, parting from you, eyes wide with worry. “Are you okay? Did that hurt? I didn't mean to do that—-”
“Shh, shut your face,” you patted him on the cheek, giggling at his reaction. 
He adjusted himself on top of you. “Here, make sure you’re head’s on your pillow, I want you to be comfortable.” he adjusted you, too, and he looked so sincere and serious it made you laugh. “Why are you laughing?” he asked, but couldn't help but let out a little chuckle, too. “Stop, this is serious.”
You laughed even more. “Sorry, sorry, you’re just really cute.” you watched his eyes twinkle as he looked at you. “And you look so pretty on top of me.”
He smirked, holding back his giggle. “Stop it.”
“I’m just saying,” you reached a hand out to wrap around his neck, tugging his lips right back down to yours, kissing him softly. “Mhm. I cant get enough of this.”
He smiled into the kiss. “Me neither, I cant believe you’re under me right now.”
You couldn't help the blush that heated your cheeks. You were suddenly aware of his dick against your thighs, of your skin against his. You looked into his eyes, looked at how they were looking at you, how he held himself over you. 
And then, after a look of utter love, he smiled and kissed you. This time, he stuck his tongue into your mouth, running over the ridges of the roof of your mouth. You opened your mouth wider, deepening the kiss, knocking your nose against his. 
His lips parted as he gasped for air, his chest heaved against yours. His hand delicately glided up your ribs, meeting the skin of your breasts. He gripped your breast in his hand, moaning into your mouth, hips bucking into yours. You couldve sworn you felt his heartbeat through his chest as he made out with you, as his hands covered you. He pulled away only to make sure you still wanted this, and when you nodded, he reached down to line himself up with you. The concept of sex always felt so difficult. So worrisome, so new. But with jongho, it felt like you've done this forever.
“If it hurts, tell me,” he whispered against your lips, kissing you gently. “I’ll take care of you.”
You literally couldve came at those words. You swallowed hard, and forced out a nod.
He pecked your lips, smiling, kissing them again. His hands hesitated, not knowing what to touch as his tip pressed into your cunt, his breath shortening, sweat dripping down his forehead.
You reached out, gliding a hand across his cheek, across his lips, smiling up at him.
“I….” he hesitated before entering you. “Are you wet enough? Should I spit?”
He looked terrified. Absolutely terrified. So you ran a hand soothingly through his hair, watching his eyes shut tight in pleasure, in delight. “Don't worry about anything and just do it.”
“Okay,” he mumbled, letting out a little laugh. “Okay, okay.”
And then, his eyes bled into yours as he tilted his hips, pushing his cock slowly into you, so gently, as if he was terrified of hurting you. You watched his mouth part, watched his expression change to euphoria as he filled you, every inch sparking a new feeling. 
He snapped his hips, his length fully in you, and you nearly cried out from the feeling. You moaned as he moved slowly, clawing at his shoulders, this feeling unlike anything else—your damn vibrator held nothing on Jongho.
He relaxed his expression, his eyes fluttering open, looking right down on you. You met his gaze as he moved in and out of you.
“Does it hurt, if it hurts, I can stop—”
“Shut the hell up and fuck me, jongho,” you grumbled, your hands finding a home on his hips, the feeling of them snapping under your hands sent you spiraling. You moaned as his dick reached a new spot, as you felt your walls tighten around him. You wanted to cry out, rip your hair out, tear at his skin as you felt the intense crave for him. The way he looked down on you fueled the fire in your hips, in your back. You felt an ache in your hips, slamming your head back, fighting the urge to claw the bedsheets.
But then you sae his grimace, and you frowned. “Oh my god, you’re knee, you’re in pain.”
He kept moving, but he was definitely in pain. “I-I think the meds wore off—”
Without thinking, you pushed him off you, making him roll over so now he was the one on th bottom. You straddled him, looking at his shocked expression, how his breaths quickened, how his cock twitched for you. To be inside you. 
You had an unimaginable amount of knowledge from all your smutty books, so you might as well try to use what you know, right?
“y/n, what are you—”
“Let me please you,” you breathed, and with a slow, calculative movement, you sat on his dick, sliding his length into you, once again gaining the extreme pleasure of his expression and the absolute desperation he expressed. He gasped as you moved up and down on his cock, and he watched you, watched him dissapear into you. He slammed his head back into the pillow, his face contorting, moans fluttering through his lips, his eyebrows knitting together in pleasure and a million other things.
“God, fuck,” his hands gripped your hips as you rode him, his eyes rolling to the back of his head, his breaths shallow. He gasped for air. “You feel so good, oh my god. So fucking good.”
You tossed your head back, resting your hands on his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin, the smoothness of it. He blinked up at you, a smile on his lips, completely in bliss.
He moved his hands with you, nearly lifting you up as you moved on his cock, moved on his body. You forgot how strong he was.
“You sure you’ve never done this?” he gasped, his eyes shut tight. “Because fuck, this is better than I ever imagined.”
You smiled down on him, giddy at his words. You moved even faster, causing him to moan, and moan, and moan.
You didn't even know what to say—you just enjoyed his little commentary as he took you in, his gaze dripping like honey.
“Godamn,” he hissed, eyes meeting yours. He looked frantic. “Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he seethed, hips slamming up into yours. “Fuck, you’re so hot, so so hot.”
You felt him twitch inside you, felt your walls collapse. You began to see spots in your vision as he moved his hips, too, just as you were. You felt so much pride as he looked absolutely pathetic underneath you, his gaze hazy, his lips bright red from your kisses.
“I love you, I…love you,” he hissed out. “I love you.”
You reached your climax just from looking at him, crying out in a moan, leaning forward over his body. His hands flooded all over you, sending sparks at every touch, every spot of your body. And when you came, when you felt the rush of cum, the rush of the high finally hit, you continued to move as he did. Then, suddenly, his eyes grew so wide, he lifted you off his cock hastily, gasping for air.
You leaned back on his legs, onto your heels, trying to breathe, trying to see, as his hands grasped his own dick, moving up and down before he came, his cum shooting onto you, over your chest, your boobs, your stomach. You watched him gasp as it happened, his lips curling up in an embarrassed smile.
“Oh, oops,” he laughed, looking absolutely delectable with the hair stuck to his forehead and his eyes wide with pleasure. “Totally meant to do that….”
Something burned under your skin, something foreign, something you never felt before. You’ve only read about this feeling, this moment. But now, here you were. You just had sex, sex with your best friend, and it was the best thing you’ve ever felt before. You needed more, so so much more.
“Please tell me we can do that again,” you breathed, falling onto him, sticking to him, feeling the beat of his heart as you pressed your ear to his chest.
“Oh, fuck yes,” his hand wrapped around you, holding you to him. He pressed a gentle, exasperated his to the top of your head. “You don't even have to ask that, i’m planning on doing that all night.”
You moved a bit so you could lay against his side, totally forgetting about the cum on you that now got all over the place. “You seemed like you knew what you were doing for a virgin,” you side eyed him. “You have to be lying.”
He smirked, a light blush on his cheeks. “Uh, well,” he swallowed, eyes looking all over your face. “I mean, I have been thinking about what I would do if I ever got to sleep with you.”
You furrowed your brows. “You’re so cheesy.”
“Well I didn't get to do exactly what I wanted,” he looked down at your lips, at your body pressed to his. “Because of my damn knee, but,” he pressed a kiss to your nose. “That means we have to do this again.”
“Oh, baby,” you pinched his cheek. “We’ll be doing this way more than we probably should.”
He smiled, that blush still on his face, across his nose. He looked so beautiful, so so pretty, it actually hurt you to look at him.
You kissed him, kissed his lips, his nose, his flushed cheeks. 
And you looked at him, at his eyes, the same eyes you’ve known forever. 
“I love you, Jongho.”
The next morning, you parted ways with a sleepy jongho, late for your early class. You couldn't stop thinking about him all day, that is, until you ran into Mingi and San in the library cafe.
Mingi grinned like the cheshire cat, an eye smile brighter than the sun. “Well, hello there, you.”
You rolled your eyes as the line for the coffee moved. San and Mingi stood behind you, giggling like little kids.
“So, Jongho didn't come back last night,” San started, and you quickly cut in.
“So? He always stays in my room, its not anything odd—”
“Oh, sweetie,” Mingi crossed his arms, grinning. “But it is odd.”
“Why?” you crossed your arms, too, facing him. San stood by with a little chuckle.
“Because he came back to the room before his class and his jersey was on inside out—”
“So? He likes to sleep shirtless—”
“His lips were covered in red lipstick—”
“I don't know what you were talking about—”
“Oh, and he told me that he had sex with you—”
You slammed a hand against San’s mouth, giving him a death glare while mingi giggled like a school girl. You grimaced, pulling your hand away. “Shut up, or i’ll make you.”
“Ooh, so scary,” San waved his hands in the air dramatically. “Anyway, are you dating him now? You better date him, he’s been dreaming of that for so long.”
You blinked. “I mean, we said we loved each other, but nothing about dating….”
Mingi smirked. “Welp, guess you better go figure that out.”
After class, you found yourself in front of Jongho’s door, a shake in your breath as you knocked. He opened the door, shirtless, a smile on his face the minute he met your gaze.
And then he grabbed you by the waist and planted a big kiss onto your lips, smiling into it, and then pulled away.
“Hi,” you smiled.
“Hi.” he tilted his head, looking you up and down.
“I heard you told San everything.”
He bit his lip. “Was I supposed to keep it to myself?”
You shook your head, smiling.
“Do you want to come in?” he hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Mhm,” you nodded, following him in.
The minute the door shut, Jongho slammed you up against it, swallowing you whole with his mouth as he kissed you. His hands gripped the side of your head, tugging at your hair, causing you to let out a hiss. He took the opportunity of your open mouth to shove his tongue into you, exploring your mouth with pleasure. He moaned into you, and you couldn't help but moan yourself.
His hands gripped your thighs, lifting you up, slamming your back into the door as he held you to him. He then started to walk towards his bed, but you realized his injury.
“Jongho, you’re leg,” you breathed with worry, trying to get him to put you down. “You’ll hurt yourself—”
“Shut up,” he spoke into your mouth, indeed shutting you up immediately. You sighed as he kissed you, as he touched you. He gently set you down onto his bed, and you went under his duvet since he kept his room like an icebox. 
He followed you suit, crawling on top of you under the covers, but you had a better idea. Once again, you flipped him so he was on his back, and with one quick look at the shock in his gaze, you kissed his collarbone, then his chest, down his sternum, over the soft muscle of his stomach. You slowly pulled his pants down over his cock, his underwear along with them.
You felt his muscles tighten underneath your lips, you heard his breath hitch as you moved lower and lower, until your lips met the soft skin of his hard cock. He gasped his hands searching for you under the covers, his legs moving in pleasure as you licked his tip.
“Oh my…oh…” he arched his back against your kiss, your hands holding onto his hips as you surrounded your mouth around his erection. He thrashed against you, absolutely liquid in your embrace.
But before you could take him fully, the door of his room opened, and in came san blabbing about god knows what.
You quickly moved, trying to lay flat the best you could to hide. Jongho sat up fast, pulling the blanket up and bunching it around his dick, making sure it wasn't so obvious that you were under there….and that he was literally throbbing hard.
“I ran into y/n earlier, she admitted to it!” san roared, and you assumed he was taking his shoes off considering the sound. “Good for you buddy, I know how long you wanted to tap that—”
“Ah, yeah,” Jongho awkwardly laughed. You wish you could see the look on his face, the embarrassment. Just how long did he want you?
You couldn't help but stroke your hand against his dick, causing him to gasp.
“You alright?” San questioned, now making his way to the other side of the room. 
You continued to rub him. Jongho gripped the blanket tight.
“Peachy,” Jongho grunted.
San didn't speak for a while.
“Are you gonna finally ask her out?”
You paused.
Jongho sighed. “Huh?” he was totally out of it.
“I mean, you’ve been in love with y/n for ages, you might as well make if official while you can.”
“Am I?” Jongho swallowed hard. “Am I in love with her?”
“Ah shut up, you know it,” San scoffed,and a bed creaked—assumingly his. You decided to continue to suck Jongho off, taking him in your mouth, causing him to jolt.
“I uh, i’ll ask her out later,” Jongho took in a breath. “But, um, do you think you could….you know, give me a moment?”
“A moment, why—”San paused, then gasped. “Are you beating your meat right now? Oh fuck man, my bad!”
You nearly cackled against Jongho at the way they conversed with each other, how normal it seemed. It made you wonder how often this happened, how often Jongho did this to himself, how many times he thought about you while doing it…
That turned you on even more.
The minute you heard the door shut, you tossed the covers over your head, meeting Jongho’s shocked, mind-boggled expression.
“Jeez, y/n, fuck,” he couldn't help but smile as he looked at you, as you sucked him. “You’re a freak.”
“Well, you should see the things I read,” you chuckled, and then licked up the column of his cock, causing him to take hold of your head.
He shoved you up and down on his dick, his fingers tearing into your scalp, causing you to choke on him. He groaned, moaned, hummed every note possible, and then without warning, he came into your mouth, his body going still, his eyes open wide as he watched you swallow his load.
Oh, he tasted better than you ever imagined. 
His saltiness still coated your lips as you leaned over to kiss him, his eyes lost in you. He looked so in love, so in lust, in everything.
“Are you gonna ask me out?” you asked in between kisses.
“Mhm,” he leaned into your kiss, not wanting to break apart. 
“Are we dating now?”
Kiss.
He blinked, looking up at you. His smile defined beauty, his lips desire. 
“If you’d like.”
“Of course.”
You kissed him once more, wrapping your arms around his neck, rolling around in bed with him. He chuckled, smiled, nuzzled his head into you. 
“I have practice,” you kissed his cheek, trying to get up, but his arms wrapped around you, holding you to him. “I have to go.”
“One more minute,” he mumbled into your ear as he nibbled it, then kissed it. “Just a minute.”
You smiled. “Okay, fine, I guess I can spare a minute.”
He held you, breathed in your scent, his scent on your lips. He didn't let go, even after the minute, and you hand to force yourself out of his hold.
“Meet me in my room tonight?” you raised a brow,
He nodded. “Of fucking course.”
You quickly tried to fix your hair up, tucking it behind your ears, before you gave your boyfriend a wink while you walked out.
And, funny enough, when you shut the door behind you and turned around, San stood there, smirking devilishly.
“Well damn, when’s it my turn?”
452 notes · View notes
gutsby · 4 hours
Text
Ruined!
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Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader
Summary: Joel is an old man who struggles to cum sometimes. You’ve got time to kill and a tight hole to fill.
Warnings: 18+. Peepaw brainrot + a dash of anorgasmia. Unprotected p-in-v, cockwarming, age gap, daddy kink.
Note: Finals are whooping my ass left & right. This is a quickie.
Word count: 1.2k | Part of the Waiting Game ‘verse
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Surely he was hurting you now.
Joel Miller had a kink for many, many fun activities, but splitting a sweet young thing like you over his cock to the point you were almost in tears was just not one of them.
At the same time your poor, surely-bruised walls pulsed around his hardened length, he felt a pang of guilt. His balls were pressed against your ass like two lead weights, soaked with the remains of your third release, and his mind was at war with itself—keep fucking you like this? Pull out and offer his sincerest apologies for not being able to cum? A boy your age would’ve never had you waiting around like that, aching around his cock, much less begging for something as simple as a cumshot.
He decided to go straight to the source. Leaning over your prone body on the bed before him, he was careful not to rut his hips or jostle his dick around too much.
Joel pressed a hot, stubbled kiss to your cheek, then:
“‘S’it too much, baby? She need a break, maybe?”
Joel thumbed at that space where your body ended and his began and nearly lost his mind to the pearly-white slick that had accumulated with time. Two hours time, he had to remind himself while you moaned and writhed and bucked your ass back. Your cunt was choking him.
Crying, too.
Your eyes flew open the moment his words reached you.
“You kiddin’ me, Miller?! I could do this shit all day.”
Sometimes Joel forgot you were only in your twenties. Really, the thought only occasionally crossed his mind in moments like these—or when your father, his best friend, happened to bring you up—but when it did, it hit him hard. You were young. Lively. Surely far too spry and full of life to be messing around with a man as old as him.
Joel’s guilt ran almost commensurate with his pleasure when he felt you anchor your feet on the bed and start to fuck yourself back and forth over his still-throbbing dick.
Almost.
He planted a hand beside your head and grinned. He let you fuck him. Felt you pull off, crawl up the bed a little, then beckon him back to your body, where your ass was now pointing up and your back was arched in invitation.
Almost.
“You know I can’t sleep without your cum inside me.”
And you made a point to spread your knees and look behind you with a smile as sweet as Milo’s tea, fingers drumming a beat against the bedspread in anticipation.
“You do wanna fill me up, don’t you, daddy?” you teased.
Yeah, no. The guilt was gone. Joel could worry about being a depraved old man when he was done cumming.
Then he was back inside you, driving his hips until every last inch of him was wrapped snug within your wet and velvety embrace, and he sighed. A real protracted one, like the kind he was liable to exhale after climbing two flights of stairs, or else just hoisting himself off the sofa. Or lifting you in his arms and fucking you hard against the hood of his Bronco. Any time. Any place. You were kind enough to oblige him with the best cardio of his life, so the least Joel could do now was make you cum again.
He snatched your hands up in one of his own and placed your wrists at the base of your spine. With his other, free set of fingers he took to rubbing your clit gently.
“SON OF A—”
“—good girl.”
You let out a bloodcurdling scream into your pillow and secretly hoped this man’s dick would never deflate again. Not with the way he was sawing his thing back and forth and dragging you to the edge, circling your clit like you were the single most precious thing in the world to him.
“Oh, sweet pea, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
Like he could feel the tears staining the cushion himself.
“Mmrooonme,” you cried into it, voice garbled by cotton.
“What’s’at, honey? Can’t hear ya.”
Joel then bent at the waist, pretending to be leaning in to hear you better, when really he knew he’d be digging in your guts with that big, bulbous head of his and making you squeal again. Hands still held captive behind you, you inched your chin back on the pillow so your moans could be heard even louder while Joel sped up.
“You— ruined me,” you repeated. Now clear as ever.
Joel tried to hide his smile and glanced down between your body and his. Then, while his ring finger joined the other two to make their tight, light circles, he returned,
“Ruined? Pussy feels just fine t’me.”
You’d kill him if he wasn’t so good at this. You turned your head more to meet his eyes from the corner of yours.
“No. Ruined me. For anyone else.”
Probably forever.
“Good.”
You knew he liked it that way.
You saw it in his eyes. Felt it in his touch. The hefty, broad, and greying Joel Miller had been loafing around on this earth long enough to know how to claim what was his. When his hips knocked yours to lay you flat on the bed, you already knew what was coming next.
First, his arms came to rest on either side of your body.
“Shit,” you whimpered.
Next, his lips went trailing down to your ear.
“Just a little more, sugar—that’s it,” he murmured while his hips sank in, and you felt that big, delicious stretch.
Then he released your hands so they were free to squeeze the sheets, and when they did, his moved over them—lacing his fingers through your own—and his lips pressed a kiss to your jaw. He held you in a tender grasp. His breath was hot on your neck, and the whole of his body was blanketing yours. Joel knew you liked it like that, which is why he made sure not to leave an inch of space in between. He was grunting, rutting, holding you close while his cock drilled a maddening pace inside you.
“You ruined me too, y’know,” he mumbled into your skin.
His nose was flush with the side of your cheek, nudging inward. Begging you to turn your head just a little more so he could kiss you. Weak as you were, you obliged.
And you moaned against that grey, stubbled chin of his when the thrusts above you had your cunt grinding the bed, rubbing that soft and helpless nub on the sheets.
“C’mon— let daddy have it,” he growled, “Let daddy have it and make it his, huh? That okay by you, baby?”
It was.
More than okay, as confirmed by the orgasm that tore through your body moments later while your teeth sank into the flesh of Joel’s lower lip and your cunt clenched and soaked over him whole. Joel wedged his tongue in your mouth and fucked you through it. His broad and callused hands were like iron around your own, holding you tight and keeping you still amidst a maelstrom of pleasure that combed over your every last nerve.
He licked into your mouth. Licked over it. Took the sick and distinct pleasure of knowing no one but him got to see you like this, with your jaw hanging slack and your eyes rolling back and your whines repeating quietly, ‘Daddydaddypleasedaddyfuckohfuckdontstop.’
Maybe ruined wasn’t such a bad thing to be at all.
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houserautha · 2 days
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These Destined Ends
Part Eleven
Summary: Jessica fulfilled the wishes of the Bene Gesserits to produce a daughter. You’re now burdened with the task of not only marrying the na-Baron, but also bearing his child — the Kwisatz Haderach. Will you take your fate into your own hands? Or will it always belong to those who control you?
Pairings: Feyd-Rautha x F!Reader
Word Count: 3.4k
Warnings: you stabbed him and now you handcuff him, blood play, wound play, the events in this part are probably not hygienic or realistic but my thots took over, you both cry, mentions of killing/death, brief depiction of killing
A/N: I would like to add that reader and Feyd have such a toxic relationship but god do I love it so much (also the writing god possessed me and made it possible for this to be published now instead of tonight, god bless)
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You push the dagger in to its handle.
It comes back slick with blood.
You use it to quickly unlatch your bindings, then shift aside as Feyd falls onto the bed beside you. Without thinking, you place a knee on either side of his waist and set to inspecting your work — the cut is deep, weeping ink-colored blood. A depraved part of you wants him to suffer, to feel pain as unimaginably deep as you did. And you do not want him to clot quickly.
Feyd’s hand ghosts over the wound. Blood spills onto his alabaster skin, the bedsheets, on the leg of your pant nestled into his side. And all the while he gazes up at you endearingly, face noticeably paler, blood coming to gather at the corner of his lips. You lean forward to kiss him and lap up the droplets of blood, he groans; you’re pressing your entire weight into him, into the wound.
“I want you to hurt,” you whisper against his mouth. You put your fingers to the wound, Feyd shifting uncomfortably as your nails bite into the recently torn flesh. Beneath you, his cock stirs, and in response you dig your fingers in deeper.
His flesh is warm. Wet.
“Fuck,” Feyd mutters.
“I want to hurt you and you’re enjoying it,” you sneer at him, “perhaps I should just stop. Chain you up to the bed, see how you like it. Leave you to bleed out alone.”
He doesn’t reply. There’s a flicker of recognition in his eyes — he knows that he’s supposed to atone for his family’s crime, play his part in your twisted battle of wits, but there’s no denying his swelling, twitching cock, eager to make contact between your legs. He grimaces as you remove your hand, breath expelling in shaky bursts.
Feyd watches you reclaim the cuff, hook it around his wrist and then do the same with the cuff on the other side of the bed that Wyn hadn’t bothered to attach. You secure both cuffs so that his hands are pinned above his head. He looks infuriatingly gorgeous like this, blood wetting his skin and your hands, muscles tensed and pain spasming his handsome features.
You grind against him and his hips buck.
“Fuck,” he says again.
You lose yourself, slightly, at the sight of him like this, and you’re entangled between vengeance and desire. The urge to maim him paired with the dreadful urge you have to ride him.
Why couldn’t you do both?
You rake your nails down his chest, creating trails of angry welts from sternum to navel. His breath quickens. Blood pools near the site of the wound and you drag your fingers through it.
“Interesting. You bleed just like the rest of us, Feyd-Rautha.”
“Do you want another taste?”
He inhales sharply. You’ve angrily pressed your palm into the wound, resenting him for reminding you of your transgressions. You growl, “You won’t find humor in this when I’m done with you.”
Fingers bloodied, you put them to his plush bottom lip — fuck, his lips drove you wild — and down his chin, the column of his throat, over the welts you’ve created. He writhes. You unbuckle his pants and, without any trace of kindness, tear them from his narrow hips. Feyd whimpers as the sudden movement prompts a gush of blood, and you grin at the reaping of your effort. He glares.
You scoop more blood like a painter from its palette. His cock is standing to attention, arched backward slightly, flushed and threaded with pulsing veins. Starting at his swollen head, you trace your fingers up and down, coating him thoroughly with his own blood. It takes several applications before you’re satisfied. An entirely addictive sounds escapes him when you fist the base of his shaft and start pumping, the slickness of the blood easing your work.
You stroke him over and over, varying your pace as not to guide him to orgasm. He rallies against you, straining at the cuffs. Although you can’t see it, you feel him dig his heels into the mattress in an effort to gain purchase, anything to channel the desire unfurling inside him. And all the while you watch him, fascinated, bleeding profusely yet so eager for your touch.
The mighty Feyd-Rautha, champion of Giedi Prime, shuddering and moaning beneath you, pre-cum leaking from the slit of his cock. It draws heat to your core. With his hands over his head, his mobility is limited, and you use this to your advantage: maintaining a steady pace on his cock with one hand while the other explores his body, dipping down to cup his balls, trace his thighs, then back up to tease his taunt nipples and the wound in his side. Feyd cries out, eyes rolling back and hips snapping.
You revoke your hand. He’s practically shivering now, undoubtedly torn between pain and pleasure. You climb carefully off his lap. Feyd’s gaze burns into you as you strip off your clothes until you’re standing only in your panties.
“This should only hurt a little,” you tell him. The muscles in his stomach jump and flicker as you resume your kneeling position, this time decidedly higher.
Your clit is aching for friction, so much so that you grind your center into him, right over the wound. He grunts in pain with each roll of your pelvis, seeking out your pleasure while you aggravate the place where the dagger had slid in, breasts pushing outwards. You can see it on his face, what he would do if he could use his mouth on you, his hands, but the pain is too great. Tears spring to his eyes as he fights the crashing waves of agony while you ride his wound.
“It’s not enough,” you utter, mostly to yourself, “it’s not enough.” Not enough pain.
You slide back down his body, reclaim his cock, then notch its head at your entrance. You’re slick with your own desire, and his blood, and you have to fend off his bucking hips to prevent him from penetrating you. The sensation of him gives you shivers, racing up and down your body.
You brace your quivering thighs and sink down on top of him. Feyd howls as your walls clamp down, taking him in one swift movement. You can’t help it — your head lulls back and your body bows, gripped by a wave of unbelievable pleasure. He fills you up so neatly, so fully, that you’re in despair when you pull away, then plunge back down with even more force. It reminds you of the throne room, how you had wrested the power from him. But you were na-Baron and na-Baroness before, this equates to something much more primal, raw, two blood-soaked fighters in an arena of your own making.
You ride him to completion, cuming on his cock twice before he finally musters the words, “Enough. You’ve got your punishment. Now let me fuck my wife.”
You pause with him still seated deep inside you.
“I don’t think I’ve yet reached the depths of your pain,” you tell him in reply.
Feyd’s eyes flash. “No weapons can maim me as entirely as having you naked in front of me and without the use of my hands to touch you. There will be no show of blood for how you’ve tormented me. No physical measure. Let me fuck you now so that we may be equals again.”
Seconds after you unlatch the cuffs, Feyd is on you. He all but attacks you, mouth hungrily searching yours, hands grabbing at your body. Effortlessly he flips you onto your back, blood gushing from him. He wavers, probably from loss of blood, before burying himself inside you. You cry out, wringing pleasure from him with each thrust, the feel of his hands more rewarding than anything without them. He’s on every surface of you — pressing kisses down your neck, your breasts, pulling each nipple into his mouth and giving them a lewd suckle. His hands grab the backs of your thighs, your ass, pin your hips to the bed so that you can’t move.
“You. Are. Mine,” he grunts with each thrust. His voice is wreathed with anger. Possession.
Heartache.
You can’t even begin to examine this before he spears you even faster, with more vigor, words slurring together with impassion. “You are mine, jewel. I thought you dead. I thought you taken from me. But no one can take you from me. No one. You don’t even possess that ability. I am the keeper of your life.”
He’s becoming more and more incensed, his pace growing sloppy and unpredictable. You feel a wetness by your neck and you realize that it’s not blood causing it but rather a furious outpouring of tears from your husband, his jaw clenched and brows furrowed in concentration.
“Mine.” Thrust. “Mine.” Thrust. “Mine.”
You cling to him, hold him the only way you know how, with your legs wrapped around his waist and your nails down his back. It’s as if you’re trying to merge into one being, take this man as part of your own flesh and, in addition, make his sorrows and pain yours. You taste the salt of your own tears as you both rise and crest like waves against one another, finally not opponents in a war that you can’t win but allies in a surmountable battle.
Feyd cums first, but you follow quickly after. Pulsing and shuddering, he cries into your neck as he fills you with his seed, clutching your body to him just as tightly. Both of you are gasping for air from the exertion, the tears, the culmination of your pleasures being chased down in such a heightened state. Feyd withdraws from you. He allows one hand to press against his wound protectively, but then surprises you by placing his bloodied handprint on your breast.
Above your heart.
“You are mine,” he says, “and I am yours.”
Hot water pours down you in rivulets, interrupted only by Feyd’s hands as he washes your body. Crimson water swirls down the drain. You take turns silently scrubbing the blood from each other and swapping stolen kisses, Feyd wincing each time the water makes contact with the wound. You start to form some semblance of an apology but Feyd silences you with a formidable look. “It was necessary,” he tells you.
The bloodied sheets and discarded clothes are much harder to rid of. And there’s no saying what Doctor Wyn was thinking when you told her that Feyd now demanded her attention, what she thought when she saw the horrible wound etched into his side. But, to her credit, she never asked any questions, and you never gave her any answers.
You could see why Feyd hired her.
And when someone wasn’t aggravating the wound, it healed much faster. Feyd refused any ointment that would erase the scar, however, which you knew he would. He kept every scar from every fight like badges of honor. You knew most of them well by now, and had your fair amount of contributions. And although you never explicitly discussed what happened between you two that day, you felt it between you like a tether, binding you together in a way that even you had no words to describe.
And that’s why you stall the Baron’s wish to seek an audience with you. You won’t go without Feyd.
He’s stubbornly vague about everything, too, claiming that it would make more sense to wait to hear everything unfold at once. You’ve missed too much while self-contained and now feel eager to return, to start the plot against Feyd’s uncle.
“I have my ideas,” he says one day when you’re begging him incessantly, “but first hear what the Baron says, make your own judgements. Revenge does not happen overnight.”
This irritates you, but you ultimately oblige.
Finally the day comes for your visit with the Baron, and you make sure to wear your best dress. Instead of the usual monochrome Harkonnen colors you’ve chosen a bright red, a thin fabric that clings to your figure. Feyd’s lips twitch when he sees you.
“You wear red to invoke the ire of the bull.”
“The Baron is no bull,” you retort. You think back to your grandfather’s legacy, of the dark eyes of the bull staring at you while you sat at the table on Arrakis. And while the Baron was not a bull, you were determined to have his head anyway.
Feyd grabs your hand, feathers his lips over your knuckles. “You look exceptional.”
You smile at him. “Let’s see what your uncle has to say.”
You made it a condition of the meeting not to be held in the throne room — you didn’t like the imbalance of power. Besides, you weren’t a lowly citizen come to collect their stipend, you were the na-Baroness, bound to the na-Baron in a bond that transcended the intricacies of power. You were no longer two beings but one, a formidable union. And as you sneak a glimpse of Feyd before you enter the dining room, you’re only emboldened by the resolve you see in his face; he is a fine partner to have in battle, indeed.
The doors open and his hand brushes yours once, a subtle indication of his fealty to you.
Your chin is raised and your stride confident as you approach the table. “A meal then, between family,” the Baron had said when you declined his offer to meet at the throne room. You notice that neither the Baron nor Rabban stand when you enter, which digs under your skin like a splinter.
“Don’t spare your na-Baroness with your pleasantries,” Feyd rasps darkly.
“This is not a political endeavor,” the Baron replies. If he realizes just how agitated his nephew is, he doesn’t show it. “Sit, sit. We dine together finally. I am only too glad to…catch up.”
It’s difficult to keep your composure neutral. Here before you is the man who orchestrated your family’s deaths, the one who carried them out. Hatred burns inside you.
You take your seat, Feyd beside you.
“We’ve already had our catching up, haven’t we, brother?” Rabban’s gaze is cutting.
Feyd just stares evenly back at him. “I remember.”
Rabban grins triumphantly. “And I’m glad to see that you’re healing well.” Before you can inquire about this — was Rabban the cause of the scar across his face? — the former turns his attention to you. “It is my dear sister-in-law that I need to reunite with. Isn’t that right?”
“Need is a strong word,” you retort. “I was under the impression I didn’t have much choice.”
“Oh, how you wound with your words as well as the blade,” Rabban replies, feigning insult.
“You seem to know quite a lot about blades, Rabban. Is that how you dealt the deaths of my family?”
Rabban sneers. The Baron holds up a large hand, his voice punishing, “That’s enough.”
“I’ve only just started,” you bite back.
“Brother, temper your wife,” Rabban says. “She speculates that which she has no knowledge of.”
You open your mouth to reply, outraged, but Feyd beats you to the punch. “My wife will do and say as she pleases. You should just be grateful that she hasn’t slit your throat yet.”
“There will be no deaths today,” the Baron warns.
“Because you’ve had your fill of them?” You counter. Under the table, your fingers form claws.
“Let me give you the truth, na-Baroness, so that you might stop leveling accusations,” the Baron replies coolly. “You are new to the Harkonnen so I may forgive you this once. You were not born as we were. That being said, we were the original defenders of Arrakis. It is our planet. And as you know we will do whatever it takes to defend our own.”
You can’t help it. You snort. Is that what he was doing when he cajoled his young nephew? Put more darkness in him than necessary?
“With the help of the Emperor, we were able to reclaim Arrakis. We tried to give House Atreides the option of conceding but they staunchly refused. We did only what we had to do.”
Your eyes narrow. “The Emperor aided you?”
This, you knew, but you wanted to hear an explanation from his own mouth.
“We both had certain…lofty aspirations…that the other could provide. It was a rational exchange,” the Baron says, as if talking about expanding trade routes instead of lives. “The Emperor was fearful of your father and his power. Now he has to worry no more.”
Conversation subsides as servants place food in front of you, some kind of bird drenched in a sickly colored sauce. The only person to touch it is the Baron, who savagely devours it without any use of utensils.
“You lie,” you finally say. “My father had no intentions of usurping the Emperor as you claim.”
“The Emperor is a…fickle man. He knows his own weaknesses. I cannot blame him for his fear.”
“And why did he partner with you?” You ask. “What did you gain from this?”
“Arrakis,” the Baron answers simply.
“You said that you both had aspirations that the other could provide,” Feyd presses, taking the words from your mouth. “You eliminate the House Atreides for the Emperor, but you are not the sole benefactor of Arrakis. You must know that I would rather perish than take orders from you.”
The Baron wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “I suppose the news will come out sooner or later. Rabban?”
News? What news?
Rabban grins at you and Feyd. “The princess Irulan and I are engaged to be married.”
Shock seizes you and keeps you from forming any sort of response. The Emperor gave his eldest daughter to Rabban? Thoughts race through your mind. Not only did that mean the Baron had his influence in Arrakis but now the entire Known Universe as well. Dread fills you. How had anyone allowed this to happen?
“That’s not the congratulations I was expecting,” Rabban continues, clearly pleased with himself.
Feyd’s fist strikes the table, causing the silverware to rattle. “You gave me Arrakis over my brother, but now you secure him as Emperor? What are you playing at, uncle?”
“Your brother is willing to…follow my orders, as you so eloquently said. His loyalty deserves recognition.”
“This is a grave error,” Feyd snarls.
“Jealous, are we?” Rabban asks, drawing the attention back to him. “This could’ve all been avoided if you’d only accepted my offer,” he says to you, then Feyd, “and then you could’ve been in my position, heir apparent to the Empire.”
Feyd shoots to his feet. “I should’ve killed you when I had the chance.”
“Boys,” the Baron snaps, intervening what you are certain would’ve been a death match, “everything is now in place. Feyd-Rautha will rule Arrakis and its coveted spice; Rabban, the Empire. Instead of fighting you should be celebrating the fortune of the Harkonnens.”
Silence descends.
This was worse than you imagined. The Baron had manipulated everyone here to get what he wanted. It was he who would profit from the marriages he forged for his nephews.
“Now, Feyd-Rautha, you must put aside your envy. You and the na-Baroness are required to return to Arrakis in a fortnight.”
It feels as if someone has poured ice water down your spine. “What?”
“You think you can rule from Giedi Prime?” The Baron asks, bemused.
“Fine.” Feyd looks to you but no one else. “We are done here.”
You want to challenge him, to remain where you are and root out more truth, but to do so would to humiliate him. You avoid the eyes of the Baron and Rabban as you pick up the skirt of your dress and follow after him dutifully.
The doors slam shut behind you with a resounding thud.
As you search for something to say, Feyd screams, visceral and terrifying. In a blind fury, he cuts down the two closest servants with his dagger, their blood splattering the ground as their bodies slump to the floor. His shoulders heave, dagger gripped tightly in his grasp, and he whirls on you wildly as you approach.
“Do not give them the satisfaction,” you whisper urgently to him, grabbing his face. Your touch soothes him ever so slightly. “Their time will come but first we must consider how to proceed, formulate a plan that will leave them in their graves. They will not go unpunished.”
The dagger clatters to the ground as Feyd finally releases it.
“I will not rest until then,” he swears.
You rock up on your toes and press your forehead to his, holding him to you. “Neither shall I.”
Taglist:
@moonsoulk @heartarianagran @torchbearerkyle @unicoreads @taleah @mamawiggers1980 @jovialeggsbailiffsoul @harkonnin @avidreader73 @unicorntrooper @beebeechaos @kamcrazy123 @wo-ming-bai @m-indkiller @kpopnstarwars @dacreshoney @stopeatread @the-na-baroness @therealslimshady-1
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Note
fic idea!! ethan and y/n had a fight but she ended up on her knees sucking him to make it up to him.
they had to quickly go back to school because they all eat lunch with chad tara etc.
ethan has his hand on her thigh as they all talk and laugh, but y/n is still horny after that incredible bj.
he teases her, caresses her thigh, hand going up under her skirt, only slightly brushing against her panties. *with pleasing eyes she whispers* "Please ethan ill be quiet i promise"
he ends up fingering her under the table. bonus if she stops him before orgasming because she knows she'll be too loud and they end up fucking in an empty classroom next to the lunch tables
HI!
I absolutely loved this idea! I hope you like it!💕
Alone Together - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader
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This contains SMUT - Minors DNI
Summary: After a fight with Ethan, you make it up to him. It unfortunately leads to you being a horny mess until he finally takes care of you.
Contains: Angst-ish?, Oral - m receiving, fingering, semi-public sex acts, spanking, unprotected sex but like...pulling out lmao. (If I missed anything, let me know:)
A/N: Dude I'm so close to 500 followers, and I want to write something HUGE for it once I get there. 🥹
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You and Ethan rarely argued, but after something simple turned into the first major fight of the relationship, you felt so awful that it got to the point that it did. It all started after you told Ethan about the boy that sat beside you in class, and mentioned how he asked you for your number to talk about assignments. Ethan thought that was the stupidest excuse to get a girl’s number, but you were a little oblivious and didn’t think there were any other intentions, so you did end up giving the guy your number. Ethan got angrier the more you tried to downplay it, and he even started to question what your intentions were.
Once he’d had enough of the conversation, he stormed out. He needed to calm down, because he was so close to saying things that he didn’t mean. As hurt as he felt, he didn’t want to hurt you.
After Ethan didn’t talk to you for the rest of the day, he showed up to your dorm after his morning class. He was hoping the two of you could talk it out, because he did love you, regardless of how irritated he was.
“Hey,” you said, once you’d opened the door for him. You were trying to fight off your tears as soon as you saw him, so he pulled you into a hug.
“I’m sorry I left yesterday, but I was just so mad,” Ethan said, as his hands ran across your back. “I don’t want anyone else to think they can have you.”
“Do you want to break up?” you asked against his chest, as he chuckled.
“I love you too much to do that,” he sighed, “But I’m not going to lie, it hurt my feelings that you just gave your number out like that. I was starting to think that you wanted him to text you.”
“What?” you asked, pulling away to look at him. “You think I’d want to be with someone else?”
“I never did before yesterday,” he said, “Maybe I’m just a little insecure.”
“And a little possessive,” you mumbled, as he leaned down to kiss you.
You knew that Ethan loved you but seeing him get so mad and upset over someone trying to move in on what was his, it showed you how deep his feelings were for you. The simple kiss quickly turned into something more as his hands roamed your body and his tongue moved across your bottom lip. You gasped into his mouth once his hand moved underneath the skirt you were wearing, his hand massaging your ass as he started to back you towards your bed.
“Wait,” you said, as you pulled away. “We don’t have a lot of time for make-up sex.”
“Fuck, I forgot about lunch,” Ethan groaned, running his hand through his hair. “I’m going to be hard for the rest of the day thinking about you.”
“I think I know something that’ll help you,” you said, as you sank to your knees in front of him.
You rubbed your hand over his jeans, smiling once you felt how hard he was for you. You unbuttoned them and slid them down his hips as his eyes stayed on you.
“Are you sure we have time for this?” he asked, as you giggled to yourself.
“You know it doesn’t take me long to make you cum.”
He groaned at your words as you slid his boxers down, and you grabbed his cock as it stood at attention in front of your face. You looked up at him as you leaned in, taking his pink tip past your lips as you swirled your tongue over it.
“Fuck, baby,” he said, as his hand ran across your cheek to rest in your hair.
You were inching him in your mouth as you started to bob your head, taking more of him every time. He groaned at the feeling as your cheeks hollowed, his hand that was loosely resting in your hair gripping it tighter. Once you got to the point that you were gagging around him, your mouth getting even more wet, he started to praise you. “You make me feel so good.” “That’s it, baby. You can take it.” “Fuck, your mouth is so perfect.”
All the things he was saying to you had your core throbbing, because it turned you on so much to make him feel that good. You moved your hand up and down what you couldn’t take, as he whimpered at the feeling. Your hand moved with your mouth, his entire cock getting the attention it needed as he struggled to keep his fluttering eyes on yours. You didn’t look away, though. You loved seeing him like this. The way his breathing got heavier, the rosy tint to his cheeks, the way his head was starting to roll back.
“Fuck, gonna cum,” he panted, as you hummed around him.
His hand was tugging on your hair, the feeling making you moan around him as his eyes screwed shut, a low moan slipping past his lips as the salty liquid coated your taste buds. You bobbed your head a few more times, a lot slower than you had been going because you didn’t want him to get over stimulated, until you slid him out of your mouth, a sweet smile on your lips as he looked down at you.
“I’m definitely not mad at you anymore,” he said with a smile, as his breathing started to return to normal. “Come here, baby.”
He reached down for you to grab his hands as he helped you to your feet before he pulled you into his chest.
“Now I’m the one that gets to be a horny mess all day,” you said, as he ran his hands over your hips.
“Oh, I’ll take care of you later…you won’t be able to walk when I’m done with you.”
Whenever Ethan told you that, he meant it. The idea of him having you in all the positions and him eating it out until you couldn’t take it anymore had your head spinning. You almost wish he hadn’t told you that, because it was all you were going to be able to think about as you tried to make it through the rest of your day.
As you sat at lunch across from Tara and Chad, you were hoping that the conversation would distract you from the not-so-innocent thoughts you were having about your boyfriend.
“Did your boyfriend tell you about what happened to him yesterday?” Chad asked you, as you turned to look at Ethan.
“No…what happened?”
“So he’d just came back from showering, and I came back to our dorm earlier than I was supposed to. He didn’t realize I was there until I said something once he dropped his towel,” Chad said, cracking up as Ethan’s cheeks started to turn bright red. “He fucking screamed, dude. Like, high-pitched and everything.”
You and Tara started to giggle as you thought about it, and it was getting to the point that you couldn’t look at your boyfriend, because you knew you’d only laugh harder.
“Hey, I had a lot going on yesterday. I didn’t expect you to be there,” Ethan said, as Chad wiped a few tears off his cheeks from laughing so hard. He turned to look at you, shaking his head once he noticed how hard you were trying to keep it together. That’s when you felt his hand brush against your thigh before he squeezed it. A strained moan slipped past your lips at the feeling, as he tried to feign innocence. “You okay, babe?”
“Yeah, I accidentally kicked the table,” you lied, trying to play it off as you took a deep breath.
Once Chad and Tara stopped laughing, they brought up the weekend plans that the friend group had been looking forward to. You were trying so hard to be present for that conversation, but once Ethan’s hand inched up further until it was under your skirt, you looked over at him. He met your gaze, and smirked once he noticed your eyes pleading with his. He shook his head before he turned his attention back to Chad, but his hand didn’t stop.
You bit your bottom lip as you felt his hand run over your panties, your eyes going wide as you tried to calm down. Ethan just kept talking, like he had no idea how badly his fingers rubbing over your swollen clit was affecting you.
Once Chad and Tara started to talk about plans that they had for dinner that night, you leaned over to whisper into Ethan’s ear.
“I need more,” you said, as he lightly chuckled. “Please, baby. I’ll be quiet.”
“You promise?” he questioned, as he pushed your panties to the side.
“Yes.”
The way he had his arm angled, it looked like he was just being a sweet boyfriend with his hand resting on your leg. Chad and Tara had no idea that his ring and middle finger were buried inside of you, moving back and forth over that spongy spot inside of your pussy.
You were happy to be getting some of the attention you needed, but it was taking everything in you to keep your breathing steady. Ethan’s pace kept changing, almost like he wanted you to be loud. He’d slow his fingers down, but then he’d start pressing his fingers so hard against that spot that your hands were gripping the sides of the chair.
You felt yourself getting closer, and you knew you couldn’t be quiet, especially after you had to play off a whimper by doubling over like you’d just gotten a bad cramp. You grabbed Ethan’s wrist with both hands, as you tried to get him to stop, but he just kept going. He looked over at you, noticing how fast you were breathing, and how you looked like you could cry from the stimulation. That’s when he realized that he needed to stop, because there was no way you could make it though your orgasm without it being obvious to your friends across the table.
He pulled his fingers out, and once Tara and Chad talked to each other, he looked back over at you and brought the fingers that were covered into your wetness up to his lips. You needed to cum so bad, and once he did that, you were sure you were going to go feral if you didn’t get your orgasm.
“We need to go,” you whispered, as he looked back over to Chad and Tara.
“We’ll leave soon, babe,” he said, as you huffed in frustration.
“If you don’t take me somewhere and fuck me right now, I’m going to go crazy.”
“You need it that bad?” he questioned, looking back at your friends to make sure they were still in their own conversation.
“Please, Ethan.”
“Hey guys, I think we’re going to get out of here,” Ethan said, as Chad and Tara looked at the two of you.
“Is everything okay?” Tara asked, once she noticed that you weren’t really saying anything.
“Yeah, it’s just cramps. I’m going to walk with her back to her dorm really quick before class,” he said, as your friends nodded.
Once you and Ethan got up, he took his hand in yours as he led you away from the table.
“We don’t have time to go back to my dorm,” you said, as he started to laugh.
“That’s not where we’re going,” he said, as he led you down the hall to a room that was used for study groups.
“We’re going to fuck in here? There’s no lock on the door,” you huffed, running your hand through your hair as Ethan grabbed a chair and propped it up under the door knob.
“No one’s getting in here,” he said, as he walked over to you. “I’m going to fuck you right here on this table.”
“Are you sure we won’t get caught?” you asked, as he reached under your skirt and grabbed your panties and slid them down your hips.
“That depends on how loud you are.”
Ethan tuned you around and had you bent over the table, your elbows resting against the wood as you waited for him to fuck you. You heard the zipper to his jeans get slid down before you felt him move your skirt, so it was bunched up on your hips.
“This is going to have to be quick, baby. Is that okay?” he asked, as he pushed the tip of his cock in your dripping pussy.
“Mhm,” you moaned at the feeling, as he slid the rest of himself inside you. “Just..don’t get your cum on my clothes.”
“It’s going to go all over this perfect ass of yours.”
He wasted no time before his cock started to thrust in and out of you, soft moans slipping out of your mouth. He was so focused on you, but once he glanced up at the clock on the wall and noticed you had less time than he originally thought, he started to pound into you. The sudden pace change caught you off guard, and you had to time to process it before you started letting out loud moans. The tip of Ethan’s cock hit your g-spot with every thrust, and after his fingers a few minutes before, you knew it wasn’t going to take much for him to make you cum. His hands were gripping your hips as he pulled them back to meet his thrusts, your hands moving to grip the side of the table so you wouldn’t fall off it.
Seeing you like this, and it being in a slightly public setting ignited something in Ethan. He let go of one of your hips to give a sharp smack to your ass, the feeling making you whimper as he soothingly rubbed over it before he did it again.
“Oh my god,” you moaned, “I’m so close.”
His hand went back to your hip as he mercilessly fucked you, loud whines flooding out of your mouth as the grip you had on the table got even tighter.
Ethan’s heavy breathing turned to groans once your pussy started to squeeze his cock, and you were bringing him so close to his own orgasm, but he was trying so hard to hold out so he could fuck you through yours. The sounds you were making didn’t make it any easier for him, so he finally pulled out.
“Fuck,” he mumbled, once he looked down at his release all over your ass cheek. “You gotta see this.”
You didn’t say anything as you caught your breath against the table, a sweet smile playing on your lips as he walked around to show you his phone.
“Whoa, that’s hot,” you said, as you looked at the picture of the red handprint that was covered in his cum.
“Yeah,” he said, as he walked over to grab some tissues from the other side of the room. “Did you like doing it in here?”
“Yeah, if you want this to be our new spot for quickies, I’m down.”
“I know we just hooked up, but I still want you to come over tonight. I didn’t have enough time for all the things I wanted to do to you,” he said, as he slid his boxers and jeans back up.
“I’d love to, babe,” you said, smiling at him as you stood up.
“Good, because again, you won’t be able to walk when I’m done with you.”
ANOTHER AUTHOR'S NOTE: I know I did it again and left it open for a part 2, so if y'all want another part of this where it'll probably consist of nothing but fucking, let me know lmao. It'd definitely be more on the rough side👀
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coffee-bat · 7 months
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not to vent on main again but i'm in so much fucking pain rn
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magpiesbones · 4 months
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oooooo I HATE the curb
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hawkeyedflame · 1 year
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also today i learned that your knees actually aren’t supposed to hurt when descending a mountain lol
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izzy-b-hands · 9 months
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tried to be gentle with myself today and fingers crossed, I'll be feeling ok enough by bedtime to sit up and watch some more Cucumber
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nkogneatho · 11 days
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𝐇𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐑𝐘? 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐁 𝐀 𝐏𝐕𝐒𝐒𝐘.
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— top jjk pussy starved men.
— cw: fem!reader, cunningulus, cowgirl, monsterfucking, squirting, overstimulation, edging, nicknames, pure filth.
— a/n: this is dj khaled's worst nightmare ifykyk, sukuna's is nastier than your room where you're lying in your bed reading this rather than cleaning it.
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𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔
"atta girl. atta fucking girl!" satoru was so proud of you for riding his dick like it was your last. your body bounced on his, ass slapped so loud against his crotch that it was louder than the moans slipping from your lips.
gojo looked at you like a beast as he rested his shoulders and head on the bed frame, sitting up a little, making sure to get a good view. you made eye contact with him for a second and watched him stare at your pussy. he had heart eyes watching where you and him connected.
"getting tired, toru. nee—uh! need your help"
"aww princess. thought you'd never ask," his hands traveled your from your bent knees, to your thighs till they reached your ass and gave it a loud smack. you knew the consequences of asking him for help because this man won't stop until you've gone limp.
gojo grabbed a handful of your ass and used it to bounce you on his cock. his triceps flexed as bobbed you till your pussy stretched on his member. you watched as his tongue swiped against his lips and forged into a mischievous grin. his pace fastened and he hit your walls with so much force that it had your bed creaking and his ass levitate in the air for a millisecond.
"fuck fuck fuck fuck!! c'mon, baby. s—stretch it more. wanna cum in this—holy shit—cum in your pretty pussy."
"toruuuu," you cried as you rolled your head back in pleasure, barely keeping up with him.
"look—ahh how pretty she looks swallowing my cock in—goddamn! let's make her even prettier. let's paint her in my cum, y-yeah? fuckin—ahhhh! he moaned practically louder as he shot his load in you, his movements never stopping because he is a pussy starved whore. you could feel his trimmed white pubes stimulating your clit causing her to cum following his climax.
"fhuck princessh! huh! need m-more." you could barely comprehend his words because he was panting so much overstimulating himself. but he still craved for more, living up his pussy starved whore title.
𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈
"don't fuckin' move," his hand snaked tighter around your thighs.
"'s too much," you cried, fingers seconds away from tearing the bedsheets. toji had been eating your pussy for almost an hour. but the worst part was he hadn't let you come even once. the first fifteen minutes were fun but now it was plain torture. your pussy was so sensitive at this point that either needed to orgasm, or get the fuck away from the animal's face in front of you. is his jaw not hurting? you thought.
"toji, pleaaasee. lemme cum," you pleaded. his lips grinned against your pussy.
"wanna cum, yeah? do it yourself." he pulled away to look at your confused face. "grind this sweet pussy on my face, doll." you were scared he was going to pull something mean again. yet, you did it anyway because your brain doesn't work much when your pussy is hungry.
you were still in the same position, hips starting to jerk against his face. toji stirred his tongue out flat rubbing against your clit. with each thrust, you felt yourself getting closer and closer to your high. toji felt it coming before you and to make sure he'd get to drink all your juice, he latched his lips on your pussy as you shuddered when you came.
"anh! anh! toji—ffhuuck!!" his teeth caused you to overstimulate and whine. your body trembled post climax for atleast forty five more seconds before your torso finally laid flat on the body. toji climbed up and peppered you in his kisses, lips covered in your juices crashing against your skin.
"ready for round two?"
"fuck off."
𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀
"can't fucking run away tonight, can you?"
you never thought you'd ever feel so helpless. sukuna had your wrists pinned abover your head with his two hands, the other two held your thighs apart so he can savour all of that pretty pussy.
his one dick teased your hole and the other rubbed between your asscheeks. you watched in horror as well as excitement as a big mouth appeared on his stomach. you knew he was a monster that could do things like this, but this was your first time seeing it upclose. the mouth grinned before a big wide tongue rolled out it, licking a long stripe that started from your pussy and ended on your tits. you were curious if it could go farther. it did. it forced his way meeting your tongue. but yours was so tiny compared to his, almost invisible under it's presence.
"go ahead. give it a kiss." he ordered.
your jaw finally relaxed as the tongue pulled out, a hefty amouth of saliva drenched your tits, you lifted your head up and planted a kiss on the edge of it. the tongue retracted, and you thought it was over. but it was a mere distraction as when you looked down, both his cocks had filled your either holes, the tip barely in.
"shit. need you more wet." he said before the mouth on his stomach spat on your pussy, your labia soaked as much as the bedsheets under you. the tongue massaged your clit, making you stretch and giving the monster in front of you an opening to attack your hole. sukuna bottomed out and you gasped in pain.
"kunaaaa! ahh—meanie."
"I had to, woman."
sukuna made sure to start with slow thrusts but when he felt your pussy getting used to the size, he started going more intense. he felt you shaking under him so when he looked down you were already cumming. with no second thoughts, he pulled out his cock, and his stomach tongue filled your pussy till the tip could feel your velvety walls.
"he is hungry. let him, sweetheart."
you came so hard that you vibrated against his big body. he felt it. you were about to squirt. sukuna lifted you up in the air so easily on his bigger tongue so that all your juices flowed directly on it and you watched. you felt so filthy but when you looked at him, he couldn't take his eyes off how your pussy juice created a small stream on the surface of the wide stomach tongue. you saw his neck bob as he was savouring the taste of you even though he never took you in his real mouth.
"mmhm. you're sweeter than i imagined." a new mouth appeared on his hand and licked away your tears. slowly, a few more manifested on his body.
"how about you let all my boys taste you?"
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@osachiyo @hellkaiserinphoenix @audrinui @ilhvm @wifeyana @rizzmin @venusiansilk @suchawasteofagirl @blondieeu @lavalampfullofsoup @getoloverr @tojilvrs
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buckyalpine · 5 months
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Give me Beefy Bucky who is shy yet obsessed with how soft and little you are compared to him. Compared to his thick, wide shoulders. His meaty, firm thighs. His huge, heavy balls. His perfectly fat, split you in half cock.
“C‘mon bunny, put ‘em both in your mouth” he whines with puppy eyes, spreading his legs more while you nearly choke trying to fit his balls in your mouth. The delicious scent of his musk makes you moan with your mouth full, his heavy sac already throbbing. “Want you to suck them both at the same time”
“S’too big” you pout, cupping and rolling him in your palm, giving your aching jaw a break. He blushes at your words, his curved throbbing cock jumping against his belly.
“You have such a cute little mouth” he whispers with a soft smile, the pink on his cheeks deepening when you shove his thighs apart again, dipping your head to take them in your mouth, “oh fuck just like that, use that tongue, suck them nice and hard, don’t care if it hurts, suck them harder bunny”
He’s a feral little (beefy) fuck, holding your head in place while rutting himself against your face. The shallow breaths you take in between with your mouth full make his tip weep and he can’t help but reach down to stroke himself, using his thumb to spread his arousal around. When he finally can’t take it, he grabs and flips you onto your back, splitting your legs open and humping himself between your folds.
“Fuck you’re so tight bunny” he shudders above you as he pushes your thighs to your chest, folding you in half, making you hold your knees apart. He pumps his cock a few times while staring at your slick hole dripping and fluttering for him.
“Look at your little pussy” his voice is between a whine and a whisper, pressing just the head of his cock into you making you moan, his tip alone stretching you. He doesn’t even fucking move, pulling it back out and pushing just the head in, his lil caught between his teeth watching his perfect pink tip disappear in and out. “How are you gonna take all of me bunny,you’re already stretched open”
He’s not even taunting you. He’s blushing so much because he can feel the way you quiver around him already and he isn’t even inside properly. “Can feel you sucking me in baby, you want more? That’s just the tip bunny, so sensitive for you, m’already making a mess”
“More Bucky, fuck me, please” you plead with him, pulling your knees back further, tightening around him even more.
“Oh God” he plunges himself into you without warning, drawing his hips back and slamming them back in making your body bounce with each thrust. You sob in pleasure, broken moans leaving your lips as he knocks the wind out of you with the powerful snap of his hips.
He looks feral, eyes fixated on where his cock disappears in and out with each thrust, your sweet mixed cream squirting out of you each time he shoves himself back in.
“Look at the mess we’re making together baby. So. Fucking. Pretty. You’re so pretty when you’re all stretched open bunny, pussy was made for my cock, you take big dick so well, you’re such a good girl, my good girl made for fat cock”
You nearly wail as he speeds up, panting and grunting, your belly bulging each time. He’s sitting back on his heels so he can watch exactly how much your pussy opens up for him, that needy button between your legs equally desperate for attention.
“Why’s are you so tight around my dick baby, can’t even last when I fuck you” he squeezes his eyes shut for a moment to try and collect himself but it’s pointless. His cock starts to swell, drops of cum already starting to spurt out. He’s trying so hard to hold back but his body can’t stop moving, chasing the way your pussy chokes his length.
“M’mph-gonna cum-“ he chokes out, his movements growing sloppy and erratic, the bed banging the wall. “Gonna pump you full of cum baby, gonna make you wet the bed with how much cum drips of you”
“Cum in me Bucky” your nails dig in his shoulders, gasping when he sits back and spits onto your clit before rubbing it in circles.
“Such a cute little button making you scream so loud, you sound so beautiful like this” he gives it a pinch and you shatter around him, desperate squeals making him moan louder.
“Gonna milk my cock dry, gonna give you a thick load baby, there’s so much cum in my balls, in my dick, I can’t hold it, it’s so swollen, S-o sensitive- FUCKKK” he lets out a broken sob as he starts to throb ropes and ropes of his warm spend in you, the sheets soaking what your pussy can’t hold.
“Got the sheets all wet bunny, can feel it on my thighs-
Anyway. As always I’m sorry for this.
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Coming up next: local Fragile man tells himself to take a break so as not to hurt himself, pulls muscle in back by trying to move pillow so he can sit down.
More details on this tragic but funny failure soon to come, but first, the weather.
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shaguro · 2 months
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{ "SKIN TIGHT.ᐟ" }
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{ft. satoru g.} when you realize that you’re falling in love with your friends with benefits, you distance yourself. ghost him after each session. but this time, gojo won’t let you go so easily.
{warnings.} fwb!gojo x reader. fwb to lovers trope! fem!reader, orgasm denial, missionary, breeding kink (like if you sqint) unprotected sex. pet names used, (baby, girl) gojo is a lil delulu. extremely intimate. angsty throughout but ends happy. wc. 2k.
{shanti’s note!} heavily inspired by skin tight by ravyn lenae. listen to the playlist for this story here.
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“are you.. are you just usin’ me, (y/n)? just think you can fuck me whenever you feel like? that’s just cruel, baby.”
you knew this was coming.
satoru was pretty much good at everything, sex included. it’s why you initiated this arrangement in the first place, being his friend and fucking him whenever you wanted to. the terms were simple: casual sex with no unwanted, lingering emotions. love is complicated, exhausting — after a handful of failed relationships, you wanted no parts of it and threw in the towel, officially out the game.
he’s not wrong, you do use him. fuck him and disappear by the next morning, unseen and unreachable until you decide to show up at his doorstep again, sometimes days — usually weeks later.
you know he’ll let you in, no matter how much time has passed. just cruel.
“you’re evil. you and this fuckin’—“ he sucks in a sharp breath, tilts his head back. gooey walls mold his dick, all ribbed and dangerously warm. is this why he lets you play him like this? “. . . tight ass pussy you’ve got.”
if it wasn’t for satoru holding your legs up and open, veined hands creased in the bend of your knees, you’re sure they would’ve gave out. he’d been relentless with his teasing this session and you were puffing, the shallow breaths left a slight tremble throughout your body. sweat beads rolled down your temple, cascade down the junction of your neck.
satoru denies you an orgasm for the umptheeth time and you start to think he’s the cruel one. you deserve it, though. this torture, his crafty method of punishment.
he’s had you like this for some time, the deep rut of his hips halted, everything is still. just satoru and his cerulean-speckled iries glowering down on you, goosebumps decorated your skin. you knew he was waiting for some sort of explanation to rationalize the mess you’d created but you weren’t sure where to start.
with your cheek smushed on your shoulder, you decide to fix your eyes on something, anything across the room to avoid his stare that was burning into the side of your head. “‘toru, i’m sorry.”
satoru scoffs, his trimmed fingernails indent your soft skin. “damn, now you’re lyin’ to me too? must really wanna hurt my feelings.”
“i’m not, i swear—“
“you disappear for three months and all you have to say is sorry?” he spat, his words had an uncharacteristic sharpness to them, hard and demeaning. it wasn’t hard to detect the underlying rage that rumbled within his entire being. “no explanation? just sorry? nah.. you gotta.. you gotta give me more than that, (y/n).”
taken aback, you bite down on your bottom lip, at a complete loss for words. there isn’t much you can say to pacify him, you doubt he’d care to hear it. what worked before certainly won’t work now.
the quiet is deafening and suspenseful.
and your silence angers him further, on levels you can’t fathom. you won’t weasel your way out of this, he concludes. you’ll give him an answer, even if it’s at the expense of his already bruised ego.
“hey.. look at me.” he sneers, and you feel the warmth of his skin on your chin, his thumb and pointer fingers curl as they angle your head forward and back onto his face. “just.. talk to me, please.”
satoru gojo, begging? oh yeah, you’ve really done a number on him.
you take your time as you admire him, basking in the sheer beauty of the man in front of you. obnoxious and arrogant as he was, satoru gojo is undeniably attractive, simply gorgeous — pink, kiss-bitten lips slightly parted and his cheeks a pretty shade of red from the exertion, you gather. his abs are chiseled and tense and if you peek lower, you’re met with neatly trimmed, white tufts of hair at the base of his dick.
“you…” you stop to clear your throat but it didn’t need clearing, only to counteract how embarrassingly weak your voice sounded. “..y-you wouldn’t understand, satoru— oh!”
he exhales deep through his nose and suddenly leans down, releasing his hold on your knees to brace his elbows on the satin-sheets. while he does this, his hips roll — slow as he feeds you all his thick inches until he bottoms out, his pelvis taut against your neglected clit.
you mewl out and your hands encircle his neck, scratching at the low hairs on his nape. he’s so close, your noses basically touch. his breath fans your face, cooling your rather hot cheeks. “then help me understand, baby. make it easy f’me, whatever it is.. i can handle it.”
you’re not worried about him not being able to handle it, in fact you’re not worrying about anything at all. how can you when he’s got you stuffed, stretched and full like this?
concentration is impossible as satoru sets a steady, languid pace — not too slow nor too fast, just enough to have your manicured, white toes curling. your mouth in the shape of a pretty ‘o’, your breathy whimpers resounding off the walls of satoru’s bedroom, the beautiful symphony ringing in his ears.
an addicting melody, you were like his own personal drug. insatiable and persistent, gojo was unsure if he’d ever get his fill of you, truly he didn’t care. as long as he had you here with him, where you belonged.
“c’mere,” he pants and leans in, connecting your lips in a swift motion. you melt into the kiss, jaw slack while your tongues meld and mix. it’s fervent like always but this sensation is new — raw, almost vulnerable. pouring his heart out to you in all his movements and you can feel all of it.
“‘toru, oh my g-god.” you grip his forearms, keening as his length drags along a spot that has stars twinkling behind your lids. “i was j-just— fuck!”
“just what baby?” he mocks, it wouldn’t be gojo if he didn’t find a way to tease you, even in the most intimate of moments. he litters kisses along your jawbone before latching onto the delicate skin on the column of your throat, grazing his teeth on the surface to ensure it’ll leave colorful marks, letting out a pretty whine of his own. “shit, squeezing me s’tight- gotta use your w-words f’me.”
well, that’s easier said than done. your body is trembling in a way that can only be caused by satoru, every time your mouth opens to form words only meek, whiney moans follow. your tips scratch the plane of his delts, surely leaving cat-like scratches in their wake. and your legs hang loosely off his slim waist as you cling to him for dear life.
“i was just s-scared, satoru.” your voice was low, it was nearly drowned out by the wet squelching of your pussy. the constant schlap schlap schalp of satoru’s pelvis meeting the fatty flesh of your thighs.
satoru’s eyebrows furrow and his eyes meet yours, his head slightly tilted in confusion. “scared of what? of me?
“no!” you shake your head profusely and reach a shaky hand up to cup his face. he leans into the touch, the heat of his cheek warming your palm. if there was one person you’d feel eternally safe and protected with, it’s him. “no.. never. it’s the w-way you make me, hmm, f-feel that i was scared of.”
“oh? and how do i make you feel?” he purrs prior to kissing you again, nibbling on your bottom lip. truth be told, he wasn’t sure what you were about to say. he prayed to the god above you couldn’t feel the rapid beating of his heart, notice the uneven rise and fall of his chest. so he plays it off, even with that slight tremor in his voice. “you love me or somethin’?”
it might be more than love. a deep attachment, a classic case of yearning and longing. gojo satoru was made for you. no amount of denying or running from the obvious would change that fact. you love him so badly it hurts, it consumes you — clouds your thoughts and steals the air from your lungs. no more fighting, you had no energy left to.
you’re surrendering yourself to satoru gojo and it was time to let him know.
“yeah,” you confirm with a giggle, all airy and breathless. your thumb strokes his cheek gingerly, tilting your chin up so your foreheads touch. “i love you, satoru.”
satoru doesn’t respond, in fact he was deadly silent. mouth agape, his eyes darting wildly as he examines your face, searching for signs of roguery but he found none. you were telling the truth, the love swelling in your eyes made it oh so apparent.
“again.”
you let out a surprised yelp when satoru presses his body down, the pressure of his weight dips into your chest, leaving you winded. his face is buried in the crook of your neck where the neediest whines roll off his tongue. with this new angle, he’s balls-deep and the rhythm his hips carry has your eyes rolling, holding his broad shoulders to ground yourself.
skin-tight, it’s like your bodies, your sounds are one.
“s-say you love me again.” he rasps, and it’s more pleading than demanding. like he needs reassurance.
“i love you s-so muchh— ohgod, don’t stop, don’t stop!” your words trail into high-pitched mewls and satoru sighs, a blissful sound of relief. your pussy clamps down on his dick greedily, sucking him in impossibly deeper as he massages your aching walls, un-calculated and sloppy.
this was the effect you had on him, you always left him a fucking mess. satoru would let you ruin him, every time, for as long as he lived. “don’t know how long i’ve b-been, hah, waitin’ to fuckin’ hear t-that.”
you’d tease him for the stutter in his words if you could think clearly but your mind is blank. you’re delightfully delirious as satoru pounds into you, giving you quite literally everything he’s got. simply insatiable, you still want more. settling a weak hand on his hip, you use the last of your strength to propel him forward, your juices aimlessly squelching between your bodies, dripping down your perineum.
“f-fuck girl, you-you’re drivin’ me crazy. n-not gonna last, baby. f-feel like y-you’re tryn’ to milk me.” satoru babbles, and you swear you can feel a warm trickle of drool on your collarbone. how cute, he’s just as brainless as you are.
his pace is frantic now and that familiar tingling is building your gut. your limps are limp against him, your whole body rocks in tandem with his as he works his hardest to bring the two of you to completion.
“satoru, m’gonna cum, s’closeee.” you whine, lashes fluttering as salty tears clustered on your lash line.
he only hums in response, snaking one of his hands between your bodies to find your clit, all your sticky slick had your mound drenched. he smirks whilst rubbing figure eights on the sensitive nub, your quivering folds dragging a deep groan from his chest.
“want m-me to fill you up, hmm? p-pump this pretty pussy with all my cum.. want it all, y-yeah?” he’s rambling is incessant and you nod dumbly. it’s in one ear and out the other, the pure euphoria coursing through your bones driving you insane and all you needed was release.
it was the pinch to your clit that did it, the final blow that had your back arching almost painfully as your climate rushes through your body in intervals, your hardened nipples brush against satoru’s pecs as you twitch uncontrollably, a chain of broken cries mixed with his name fall from your lips like water.
like clockwork, satoru’s orgasm follows directly after, he muffles his moans in your shoulder, damn near biting the skin as he pumps you full, as promised. it’s alarmingly warm, scorching as it invades and overflows within your womb, too much for it to handle, some of it spilling back out. satoru doesn’t pull out, plugging as much of his semen as he can to your insides.
the silence after is comfortable. the two of you in a tangle of limbs, sweaty and panting from the intensity of your shared orgasms. you’d make your way to the bathroom, eventually. for now, you bask in the blissful ambiance.
“(y/n)?” satoru’s voice breaks the silence, a whisper as his head lulls on the fat of your breast.
“hmm?”
“i love you too.”
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@screampied @satorena @hoshigray made yall wait long enough LMAO.
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ecoamerica · 21 days
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youtube
Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared
The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!
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katzenmas · 2 months
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daddy kink this daddy kink that, you are WRONG Simon Riley has a mommy kink i will die on this hill.
At first he doesn't even show it, thinks it'll scare a pretty bird like you off. Is content to play the role of the dominant man in the relationship, ignoring his own needs and urges just to make sure you are pleased.
BUT one time he comes back from a particularly rough op, his whole body is aching and he just wants to be taken care of, so you get on your knees and when you take him into your mouth he falls apart.
the tiredness is weighing down on his mind, it has him shaking and bucking his hips up and whining.
"yeah mama jus' like tha" he slurs and you suck more vigorously, the nickname igniting something in you, simon shudders and cums into your mouth, falling back on the couch with a sigh and his eyes closed, his spent cock twitches and you clean him up.
"What is it baby? want me to take care of you?" His eyes fly open when you take his softening dick into your hand and start slowly moving your wrist, overstimulation burns at his nerve endings.
" S'too much love can't take it" suddenly your hand picks up in speed, making Simon throw his head back with a deep groan.
"That's not what you called me before. Do it right baby and i will give you what you want"
Simon fights with himself, the embarrassment of you catching in on what he said burns a hole through his chest, but your hand is not letting up and it almost hurts.
"please fuck mama take care of it f'me please" you grin and slow your strokes, watching Simon fall apart below you with variations of 'mommy' falling from his lips.
"my good boy, let's get you cleaned up" Simon feels his cock twitch again at the nickname.
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libbyfandom · 4 months
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Drunk Modern!Mizu with a Breeding Kink
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(((Yup. I don't know what to title this short fic other than that. I let the demons win.)))
(((This turned out to have a bit of spice, a bit of fluff, a bit of my sense of humor. I will say it doesn't get smutty smutty but Mizu sure has a mouth on her. And she's determined.)))
You’re shooing Taigen and Akemi out of your apartment with a tipsy giggle at 2 am. Akemi turns and squeezes you in a warm hug. “Good night, doll! See you later!”
Taigen flashes you a peace sign before Akemi leads him, swaying and all, toward their Uber to take them away.
You watch them climb inside the car before closing the door and locking up for the night. You head into the kitchen, picking up the last of the beer bottles and tossing them in the trash.
You head into the living room where you last left Mizu, only to find her sprawled out on the floor with an arm thrown across her eyes. There’s a pink flush across the middle of her face.
“Too much whiskey, sweetheart?” you chuckle as you approach her.
“Fucking Taigen,” she mumbled, trying to angrily growl but it just sounds slurred and tired. “Fucking…drinking contest.”
You crawl over her, sitting on her hips. You do have to move carefully though, you’re just a wee bit unsteady from the amount of alcohol in your own system. “You could’ve just said no,” you hum.
Mizu remains silent. She’s probably telling herself she won’t grace your soft snark with an answer, but it’s actually cause she really doesn’t have a comeback for that.
Her arm lifts slightly higher, and she squints down at you. Her eyes drift to where you’re sitting atop her hips. Her legs shift under you.
She’s… really staring intensely at how you’re sitting on her.
You start to lift yourself up on your knees. “You good? Does it hurt?”
Mizu frowns as your weight leaves her. “No,” she says, and grabs your hips to pull you back down. “...It’s nothing.”
But you know that look. She gets it every time Taigen got under her skin about something.
“Nothing? Like a “just thinking” nothing or a “Taigen pissed in your metaphorical thinking cereal” nothing?”
Mizu’s nose scrunches up in disgust. “What?”
You press your hands to Mizu’s chest, bouncing a little for emphasis. “What. Did. He. Saaaaay?”
Your tone and actions were meant to be lighthearted, but something flashes in Mizu’s eyes when you bounce yourself on her hips. Her eyes flash back down to where you’re sitting. Her hands instinctively grab your hips to still your movement. The pink flush across her cheeks and nose seem to darken. “Fuck,” slips out from between her lips. She shakes her head. “S’ just being stupid and gross.”
You noted that little change in her voice. “Like what?”
Her thumbs run over the jut of your hips. “Some girl he hooked up with. Talking about how she had an IUD and let him cum inside.”
You sigh, “Jesus Christ, of course.”
“He’s gross.”
She keeps shifting her hips under you. “Are you sure you don’t need me to get up-?” You start lifting yourself again.
“Stop moving,” she says, and the flush on her cheeks doesn’t die down. She tries to look annoyed, but you can tell the minuscule differences in her expressions. That’s a pout more than a scowl.
You laugh breathlessly. “What’s got you so worked up?” You tap her totally not pouting lip.
She grunts, grumbling a little as her hands massage where they’re gripping your hips.
“Don’t be all huffy with me. Tell me,” you coax with a grin, your own tipsy flush complimenting your wide smile.
She rolls her head back against the carpet and is silent for a minute.
The amount of whiskey currently killing her liver is the only reason her inhibitions are loose enough to say it.
She mumbles something.
“Mizu-“
“I wanna do that.”
Your eyebrows raise into your hairline, lips parting with surprise. You need to clarify just in case you're misunderstanding. “You want to-?”
“I want to cum inside you.”
The raspiness of her voice is even grittier from the whiskey.
Holy shit.
Her irises are darker than normal, the bright blue having more the tint of stormy waters.
And whether it’s the liquid courage or Mizu’s determination to barrel through things to push through her fears, she keeps going.
Her hands are heavy as the slide up your sides. “I want to have something that I can slip inside you-“
Your heart is pounding harder in your chest from her words, her actions, the heat of her frustrated gaze. “You have several strap ons-“ you joke, but your voice is weak and airy.
“I want to feel you from the inside.” She makes a frustrated grunt, “I don’t want plastic. I want to feel you wrapped around something other than my fingers. I want to stretch you out-“
Her palms dig into your stomach. Her blue eyes flick up and meet yours, and you almost fall back away from her with how much unfiltered desire is in them. Her own breath is shallow, you can see how silently but rapidly her chest is rising and falling.
“I want there to be risk that I forget to pull out.”
Holy shIT-
“Mizu-MIZU-!”
Her hips bucked, throwing you higher up her waist with her strength. Your hands fly out to catch yourself, and your fingers hit her shoulders as she’s suddenly sitting up, face inches from yours. She’s supporting your weight in this position, hands and feet flat on the floor as you’re the unsteady one in so many ways. She looks irritated, like when she can’t bend something to her will no matter how much work she pours into it. But she also looks slightly mournful. Genuinely upset.
And very, VERY drunk.
She looks up at you with furrowed eyebrows. “I wanna see it dripping out.”
You gasp loudly as her teeth snap into your neck. It’s not a love bite, it’s possessive. It’s stinging.
But Mizu, being the complex and non one-note person she is, does let go and licks at the reddened skin in apology. “I want to leave myself behind. Inside you.” She nuzzles her nose below your ear, huffing.
Your brain is just on lag, taking several moments to catch up with each of her revealed desires. “And…” you swallow the saliva pooling in your mouth. “And if you got me knocked up on accident?”
Her arms squeeze tightly around you, burying her face in your shoulder. She’s silent for a heart pounding moment, you can actually FEEL her heart pounding with yours.
Her lips drag along the skin behind your ear. Her voice is low, dark. “Wouldn’t be an accident.”
Someone needs to take whiskey away from this woman. Or give it to her more. You’ll decide if you survive this encounter.
“Mizu-“ you don’t even know how to finish that sentence. You’re just… you don’t even know. You think you hear a faint ringing in your ears.
Her left hand dig into your side, gripping the fabric of your shirt. “Would you keep it?” she asks so softly.
“I-“ your brain is still on that fucking LAG.
Her breathing is slow, shuddering against your ear. “I wouldn’t make you, if you didn’t want to-“ she sounds so pained to say it your heart squeezes. You actually forget for a moment that that’s never gonna be an issue for you two.
Her grip on your shirt relaxes, before curling the fabric between her fingers tighter, clinging to you. “I’d just… beg for you to think about it,” she makes a wounded sound.
You swallow again, throat clicking. You’re becoming aware of a heat low in your abdomen growing warmer and warmer.
She holds you tighter against her, and her hips start rhythmically rolling up against yours like she’s mimicking how far she’d push inside to get what she wants. She’d work so hard for it, putting in all her time and energy and her unwavering determination-
“It’s selfish,” she’s murmuring against your skin, warm lips having traveling down to your neck. “But I’m selfish. I want it. I want it so much. I want to know there’s a little us-“ one hand goes between your bodies, fingertips pressed up under your naval like she’s obsessed. Her voice is strained. “I want to know it’s inside you. They’re inside you. I want to know they’re safe and warm. You’d keep them so warm. You’re always warm-“
You have never, in your life, ever heard Mizu babbling like this.
SHE’S STILL ROLLING HER HIPS UNDER YOU.
You finally grab her face with both hands in a rare moment of clarity to still her, forcing her head up to look at you in this haze of body heat radiating from her, from you, radiating everywhere between your bodies.
“Baby.”
Her head lolls back, looking up at you and oh my god. She is just gone. Her red cheek flush has spread to her whole face. Her lips are wet and parted, breath now audibly heavy. Her eyes, her eyes, her gorgeous blue eyes are now a storm. A dark, hot storm.
“Let me put a baby in you, dove,” her voice is strangled, slurred worse than you’ve ever heard as her half lidded eyes gaze at you.
Jesus, she’s bringing out the rare pet nickname she’s so desperate.
And just when you think Mizu is done shocking your system with this new side of her, her expression crumbles into the saddest thing you’ve ever seen.
“Please?”
She’s pleading.
What the fuck was in her whiskey?!
“I’ll-I’ll take care of the two of you. Keep you safe. Just let me- just let me-“ she lifts her hips up under you again, as if trying to tempt you into it. She hiccups. “Just spread your legs and I’ll do all the work.”
With strength she should not have while she’s absolutely smashed, she lunges forward, shoving you to the carpet with your legs spread around her waist. Her hot breath fans over your face, tinted with whiskey. She wets her lips. “Have my baby. Say yes.” Her hips press down into yours again. She whispers your name.
You’re tempted to say yes, despite still being sober enough to remember the logistics of this. She makes a very persuasive case. And it’s not just cause she’s grinding into you like she’s warming up to do it.
"Say yes..."
Click!
You both slowly look up (you more tilting your head back) as the front door opens and Mizu’s roommate Ringo comes in. He freezes in the doorway, seeing Mizu crouched over you in a very interesting position with your legs still spread by her thighs.
She scowls at him. “You said you weren’t coming back tonight!” She sways over you.
Ringo blinks. “Mom has Bingo in the morning,” he says innocently. “… did something happen?”
“She’s pregnant,” Mizu hiccups, before passing out atop you without warning, shoving a strangled noise out of your chest as you yell for Ringo’s help.
“Oh? Congratulations!”
“….Wait…?”
“RINGO HELP!”
In the morning, Mizu drags herself into the living room looking like she was just brought back from the dead, face drained of color and eyes squinting at the light behind her tinted glasses.
“Hi baby,” you greet her softly, cautiously as you watch her head to the kitchen, aiming for the coffee pot.
“Hi,” she groans. “I’m never fucking doing a drinking contest with that bastard again.”
You nod, “That sounds good."
You pause, "Do you remember anything from last night?”
She shrugs as she passes you. “Barely.” She disappears into the kitchen.
“Oh,” you turn toward her retreating back, propping your chin in your hand as you lean against the back of the couch. You wait until she’s out of sight to oh so innocent call out “I wanted to ask about how you were begging to impregnate me.”
Several loud crashes in the kitchen.
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cherryredstars · 5 months
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omg hold on i love you so much i hope you are well. so i was sleeping peacefully in my bed today and suddenly this came to mind and i found myself on the floor.
it doesn't necessarily have to be sub Miguel, but i NEED NEED NEED a reader who has a sex stamina higher than burj khalifa. so miguel gets frustrated and overstimulated by the time its over, whining and trying to push her off of his lap type of shit because its his 4th or 5th orgasm. BUT HE WON'T, YKNOW WHY? BECAUSE HE IS HORRNY. BECAUSE ITS SEX AND IT IS GOOD SEX LIKE GAD DAYMMM
thank you
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Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader
Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Penetrative Sex, Overstimulation, Creampie, A Second of Fingering
Summary: Who is he to deny good sex?
Word Count: 725 (Not Edited)
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He doesn’t know how much more he can take. 
He’s surprised that he can even cum still. You’ve been at this for hours, greedily milking his cock and mewling at him. It’s fucking amazing. It’s like some shit his teenage mind would jerk off too. Some bizarre porn video concept. Except, this is real and he’s more of a mess than he thought he would be. 
He started out on top, fucking your desperate pussy until tears flowed from your eyes. He has the scratch marks on his back to prove it, raised and red. But after his second orgasm and your fourth, you still wanted more. But he was so tired, deeply satisfied as cock almost went numb from pleasure. But you looked so sad, giving him that cute little pout that he can never say no to. So, to summarize, his own weakness is to blame for his current situation. 
You’re desperately bouncing on his cock, no signs of slowing down. He’s flat on his back, moaning and groaning as he tries to get a steady grip on your hips. His cock is on fire, overstimulated and tired. It’s creamy with your combined cum, making loud squelches everytime you impale yourself on his dick. You won’t shut up, mouth dropped open as you scream and moan. Miguel is approaching his fifth orgasm, and he doesn’t know if there will be much cum left in him to fill you up with. 
“Fuck, fuck, mi querida, let up. Gonna actually milk me dry if you don’t fucking stop.” Miguel whines, his hand moving to press on your stomach in a weak effort to push you off.
You shake your head and whimper, holding his hand there with both of your own. You use your hold as leverage, still moving up and down on him. Miguel moans out when he can feel where he makes your skin bulge, his orgasm rushing down his spine. You’re whimpering out ‘please’ over and over again, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you finish. He feels the way your walls flutter and squeeze around him, earning a dying groan from him as it triggers his own release. 
His hips buck up weakly, spurting the very last drops of his cum into you. Both of you are panting, Miguel’s cock begging to be freed from your vice grip. You rotate your hips, softly mewling when his cock skims over your g-spot. Miguel protests as you work his cock, trying to hold your hips still to stop you. 
You lean down and kiss him, that hungry look still in your eyes, “So, so good, Miggy. That felt real good.”
Miguel can only hum in agreement weakly, his head thrown back against the sheets as he tries to regain himself. He gasps as you get up, slowly removing yourself off his cock with a soft pop. Miguel’s cock is semi-hard when he hits his stomach, still coated with cum. He can feel it softening further, his cock throbbing from overuse. 
Suddenly, you gasp loudly. It echoes off the walls, a sharp and unexpected noise. Miguel’s head shoots up to see if you’re hurt. 
Miguel groans when he sees and feels what had you gasping. You’re still hovering over him, knees on either side of his hips. Cum fucking flows out of you, finally being able to escape your flooded hole. It’s white and thick, running down your thighs and forming a puddle under you. It splatters on Miguel’s skin, and his cock jumps and hardens at the sight. Miguel lets out a tired sigh, grabbing your hips and stuffing a finger into you. You cry out, face blissed out as he fucks the cum back into you. 
“Fucking minx, you’re insatiable.” He grumbles, pulling his finger out and wiping it on the skin of your thigh. 
You whimper, quickly turning it into a scream as he seats you back onto his raw cock. His cock stings, fighting in protest. His body is tired and he’s sure he only has dry orgasms left in him. But he doesn’t seem to care, especially when you instantly start riding him again. It feels good, so good. Real good. He falls back into his weakness again, whining and cursing. 
He’s just a man after all, and what good man passes up on pornstar-level sex?
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yawnderu · 7 months
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Innocence Loss - König x Reader
Delayed Kinktober Day 3: Virginity loss - König x Reader
CW: Virginity loss, jealous König, rough sex, pussy eating, creampie, breeding kink if you squint.
"So wet for me, spatzi." König muttered softly, shaky fingers teasing your wet slit up and down, gathering your juices before his hand went back to his cock, soft groans escaping his lips as he used your own wetness to lube himself up. His mouth latched up to your cunt again, your whiny moans being rewarding enough as he worked up and down his long, veiny shaft.
"König... need you." You managed to speak between soft gasps and moans, the sensation of his long, flat tongue licking you up and down for the past 10 minutes was starting to become too much— he already made you cum twice, using the excuse that he needed you all wet so you could handle his big cock, yet in reality, he simply liked your taste. Like a starved man, König latched onto your clit, rubbing his cock so hard he already felt on edge.
"Beg for me." He said softly, his cockiness in the battlefield rubbing off on his regular life, yet surprisingly, he wasn't embarrassed about it.
"Please— fuck, I need you inside me. Please, baby?" Your pathetic begging went to his head, yet the look in his eyes betrayed just how much this man adored you. Messy hair, lips parted as you waited for him, a thin layer of sweat covering the body he was so enamored with, and your legs open, revealing the sweet cunt he craved so bad it hurt.
"Pretty girl." He muttered softly, pure affection on his voice as he joined you in bed, opening your legs even more to give his behemoth body enough space. He lined himself up to your cunt, gently pulling his foreskin down to rub the tip of his stupidly big dick up and down your wet entrance, slowly going in until he's bottoming out.
"Scheiße—" He grunted softly, voice going deeper as he grimaced under the mask. König was used to using his own calloused hand to cum, doing it only because he was bored and horny, which he grew out of the more years he spent in the military, yet the feeling of your tight, warm walls swallowing him up hungrily hit him like a tidal wave. You felt too damn good, and he had to resist the urge to cum already, not wanting to embarass himself.
"Are you okay?" He asked you gently, his hand slowly running up and down the length of your hair worriedly when he noticed the slight grimace on your face. König knew he was big in every single way, and his cock was not the exception.
"I'm good, just— move, please." Feeling the stretch of his massive shaft was just as painful as you imagined, yet the pleasure that came from it couldn't be denied. He builds up a pace, slowly going more and more intense as his thrusts get rougher, deeper, harder. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills his private quarters, and you're secretly glad he's a colonel, as it gives you both more privacy.
"You've been bad, haven't you? Desperate for my cock, letting others flirt with you..." He mutters out between clenched teeth, his thrusts only getting rougher as he recalls what happened earlier. You didn't have the heart to tell him a member of KorTac simply was asking you for advice, the feeling of his tip slamming against your cervix was way too good to ruin the moment. He can believe whatever his jealous and possessive mind told him, as long as he keeps on angrily fucking you.
"No one else gets to touch you like this." He growls out, sitting on his knees while his massive hands easily hold onto your hips, lifting you up with him while he pounded into you, your moans mixed with his as he used you like you were simply a fleshlight— compared to his massive frame, you are.
König shows no mercy anymore, slamming his entire nine inches of meat into you with primal force. Despite the way he's being so rough, his light blue eyes are completely set into your face, looking for any signs of discomfort yet all he can see is pure bliss. His already big ego grows more and more as he hammers into you, all the pretty noises and faces you're making because of him, him and no one else, are getting to his head.
He moves your hips away as he pulls out, suddenly slamming himself all the way back in before you can protest. He drags a whiny moan out of you, pain and pleasure mixing as you can feel a familiar warmth building up in your stomach. He leans down, his breath hot against your ear as he mutters out pure nonsense in German. You can barely make out "Hure" between whatever he's whispering. His German sounds hotter than ever and you listen intently, dumbly nodding your head to his words despite not understanding him.
With each powerful thrust, he claims you, marking you as his own. The pleasure builds, coiling around your naked, sweaty bodies until it's way too much to bear. And when you finally release, his arms wrap around you protectively, holding your tiny body close to his as your bodies explode in a shared release. His thick, white cum fills up your womb, painting your velvety walls with his fertile sperm.
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