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wintaerbaer · 2 months

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bottle up old love (jjk) (m)

summary: Jungkook may have broken up with you a year ago, but that's not going to stop him from coming to your rescue when he sees you being cornered by a creep.

pairing: Jungkook x Reader

rating: 18+ (MINORS DNI)

genre: exes to lovers, the holy trinity of angst/smut/fluff

word count: 4.6k (this was supposed to be a drabble 💀)

prompt: JK + exes to lovers + "I'm sorry" + "I hate you" + "Don't fucking touch me" + "Leave" (for @btsborahaee <3)

warnings: language, a short harassment scene at the beginning (nothing too intense), explicit content including: unprotected sex (DO NOT), fingering, praise kink, biting, marking, spanking, cum eating (sort of?), big cawk soft dom jk, cowgirl (yeehaw), creampie, cockwarming, i think that's all but this also wasn't supposed to be too smutty so clearly idk what's going on lol

MASTERLIST

“Don’t fucking touch me!”

You spit the words at the man in front of you, pushing him back as he tries to make another grab at your arm.

“Why do you gotta be like that?” Seungcheol whines. “I thought we were having fun.”

“You and I have very different ideas of fun.” You take a step backwards towards your building. Somewhere down the sidewalk, footsteps clatter against the pavement.

“C’mon.” He matches your movement, reaches for you again. “Invite me up. You enjoyed the last time, didn’t you? I told you that was just a warm-up.”

The building’s brick wall is closer than you thought, and you bang your shoulder against it as you try to sidestep him. “Last time you didn’t follow me to a bar I didn’t even invite you to. How did you know where I was anyway?”

“Let me come up, and I’ll tell you,” he rumbles with a flicker of his eyebrows. He has you fully backed up against the wall now, and you press against the muscle of his chest to no avail.

“Stop!” you shout before he’s ripped away from you so suddenly that you’re left blinking in confusion, huddled against the brick.

There’s a thud–the sound of a fist hitting flesh–and a yelp before Seungcheol is reeling back with his hands clutching his nose. Blood seeps out from beneath his fingers, black even under the glow of the streetlamps.

“What the fuck?” he shrieks, and it’s only then that you take a proper look at your savior, looking every bit like he’s stepped straight out of the shadows with his dark hair, ebony clothes, and deep brown eyes.

And a lead weight drops into your stomach as you recognize him.

Jungkook sets himself between you and Seungcheol, looming over the latter as he continues to cover his face, whining. “I’m giving you ten seconds to get out of here.”

“Who the fuck are you?!”

“Ten,” Jungkook growls, taking a step in Seungcheol’s direction. “Nine.”

Seungcheol straightens–clearly a last-ditch attempt to look intimidating. Spitting blood onto the concrete, he peers at you over Jungkook’s shoulder. “This isn’t over, bitch.”

Then he spins and takes off running down the street.

Your hands grip your elbows. It may be a balmy summer night, but you’re shivering where you stand, unsure whether you’re more affected by Seungcheol’s behavior or the ghost who’s unexpectedly in front of you.

“Are you okay?” he quietly asks, gaze fixed on your face. You stare at your shoes and give him a brisk nod as a response before turning away, punching in your building code, and walking through the front door.

He follows closely, slipping in behind you and trailing a few feet. You let him for a little while, guiding him through the modest lobby and up the first flight of stairs. But when you’re halfway up the second stairwell–almost to your floor–you pause on the landing, spinning his way.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

His eyes are gentle, sincere. “Making sure you get in safely.”

“There’s no need for that,” you assert. “I’m already in my building. There’s a keypad. I’m good.”

“The keypad does almost nothing. I followed you in no problem.”

“So I should be worried about you then?”

He flushes, the tips of his ears going pink. “Please just let me see you inside.”

You want to argue back, want to shout at him and make a scene, but you know it’s no use. Know that he’s stubborn as a bull and will get what he wants one way or another.

It’s how he broke up with you after all.

You say nothing, only hustle up the last set of steps and down the dimly-lit hallway until you’re in front of your door, Jungkook tailing you the whole time with his hands in his pockets. You practically fumble your key in your haste to get it into the lock, letting out a satisfied sigh as the latch finally clicks open.

“There. I’m in,” you say as you step over the threshold, waving a dismissive hand at your unwanted companion. “Leave.”

But he hesitates just outside the doorway, teeth chewing at the corner of his lip. “What are you going to do if he comes back?”

“That’s my problem, isn’t it? I stopped being your concern when you dropped me out of nowhere a year ago.”

Your eyes sting at the memory, tears threatening to spill over. You don’t want him here. Don’t want to see him or have him anywhere in your vicinity. Not when it still hurts like this.

Though, truth be told, you don’t expect to ever be fully over him.

“We’re done, Jungkook,” you murmur. “You made sure of that.”

And you close the door in his face.

The distress subsides quickly once he’s out of sight–like he was never there to begin with–and you don’t linger, dropping your bag on the sofa and heading straight for the bathroom. This is how you’ve made it a year without him; it was weeks of crying before you realized that wallowing was doing you no good, only fueling your misery instead of providing any kind of catharsis. So you’ve done your best to simply push past it and cast away the anguish that bubbles up every time you think of him. Not allow it to linger like the shadows at the edges of the room.

You shed your clothes and turn the shower to a temperature that you’ll probably regret later. But for now, you savor the way the water sears your skin as you wash away the day with all of its unpleasant surprises. Taking your time, you scrub every inch of your body and carefully shampoo your hair (trying not to fall back into the fantasy that’s plagued you on occasion where it’s his hands and not yours spreading the bubbles over your form).

The self-care continues as you step out of the shower and leisurely work through your skin care routine, even taking the time to blow dry your hair. By the time you exit the bathroom, the fog on the mirror has dissipated, and you’ve once again successfully tamped down the memory of Jungkook and his hands and eyes and everything you ever felt for him.

Or so you think.

After popping into your bedroom to pull on some pajamas, you pad back into the living room for a glass of water, and your eyes are immediately drawn to the front door. Regret attempts to push its way into your consciousness against your better judgment. The man broke your heart, yes. But you do feel a little guilty slamming the door in his face after he just fought off a creep for you.

And speaking of Seungcheol, what if he does come back? You’re pretty sure he saw you punch in the building code the night you brought him home with you, and given his behavior, you wouldn’t be surprised if he filed it away in his head.

Anxiety winning out, you creep to the door and peer through the peephole. The hallway looks empty, drab beige walls taking up most of your field of view, but you jump as you spot a hulking shadow to the right. Your heartbeat races then slows, a closer look revealing hunched, unmoving shoulders wrapped in a familiar black t-shirt.

Jungkook swings his head to look at you as you open the door and glare down at him. His legs are pulled up, arms resting on his knees, and it might be endearing if not for the fact that he absolutely, positively should not be here.

“What are you doing?” you ask him for the second time tonight.

“He might come back.”

“And you’re going to what? Fight him?”

He shrugs. “If I have to.”

“Yeah?” You raise an eyebrow, challenging. “You’re going to sit out here all night?”

He shifts where he sits, wiggling his hips like he’s firmly planting his butt into his chosen spot. “Yes.”

You roll your eyes at him but don’t doubt that he would. Again, if there is anything you know this man to be, it’s stubborn. “You’re going to scare the neighbors.”

“Who, Mrs. Kwon?” A tiny smile plays on his lips as he glances in the direction of your elderly neighbor’s apartment. “I think she’d be delighted to see me.”

If you’re being honest, she probably would be. She’s always adored Jungkook and praised him as the “kind, handsome young man” who helped her put away groceries and fixed her leaky faucet one time. In the months following your breakup, she’d asked about him once or twice, patting your arm reassuringly when you awkwardly told her she wouldn’t be seeing him anymore.

“Don’t worry, dear,” she said. “He’ll come around.”

Well she’s turned out to be right in that he’s certainly back here again, still watching you from his spot on the floor. And you don’t know whether it’s his big doe eyes or the fact that he really would guard your apartment all night if you let him or the genuine fear that one of the other neighbors will make a fuss at his presence, but you feel yourself softening.

Turning abruptly, you stride into the kitchen for your glass of water, walking out of sight of the door, which is still wide open.

“You coming?” you call, pulling two glasses down from the cupboard.

There’s a rustle as Jungkook stands and shuffles into your apartment, closing the door behind him with a soft thud. For someone who was so determined to defend you tonight, he seems uncertain now that he’s actually inside. His hands are once again stuffed in his pockets, and his eyes flicker around like he hasn’t been here a thousand times. Hasn’t cooked you breakfast in this kitchen in nothing but his boxers. Hasn’t watched The Notebook with you on this TV and held you as you both cried.

Hasn’t made love to you on the couch.

You slide a water his way, and he murmurs his thanks, sipping at it lightly. It’s strange–seeing him here again–and you can’t help but think about the last time he stood in this room. It’d been a maelstrom of accusations and hurt feelings that culminated in him storming out, the slam of the door echoing in your ears.

“You never cleaned that?” He gestures at the rug that covers most of the sitting area in your living room, eyes on the dark purple stain roughly the size of your hand.

You gulp down your water and try not to follow his line of sight. Try not to remember how you’d knocked over a glass of wine in your haste to get his clothes off during another movie night less than a month before your breakup.

“I kind of forgot about it,” you say. “Stopped noticing it after a while.”

It’s a lie. There was never a time when you didn’t notice it, the memory of him haunting you every time you sit down on the couch and stare at the garish stain. And still, you haven’t been able to bring yourself to try and erase it.

Silence worms its way between you again. With only the soft light from the tabletop lamp glowing next to the couch, Jungkook’s face is cloaked in shadow. And so you barely see his lips move when he speaks. Barely hear it with how quietly his whisper slips into the room.

“I’m sorry.”

Your glass almost drops from your fingers, droplets splashing across your knuckles as you catch it at the last moment and steady it on the countertop. Turning to face him, you find his gaze already on you, melancholy tinting his expression.

“What?”

He tongues his lip ring, shoulders dropping a fraction. “For how things ended. I’m sorry.”

You can see the sincerity in his posture, can see the sadness in his form. And yet, his words only fill you with a hot anger that bubbles out of you before you can swallow it down.

“I don’t know why you would be,” you challenge, “being that you didn’t even respect me enough to give me a proper reason.”

Jungkook huffs at that; you think he’s resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “Did it really matter?”

“Yes.”

He gnaws at his lip again, no longer looking at you, and his lack of an answer only riles you up further.

“Was there someone else?” you demand, causing him to flinch. It was the same thing you asked him when he told you he thought you should break up, standing in almost this exact same spot.

“No,” he murmurs after a moment. “There wasn’t anyone else.” He pushes a hand through his dark, silky hair. “There hasn’t been anyone else since either.”

This surprises you. Jungkook is, in your eyes, the handsomest man you have ever come face-to-face with, but even from an objective standpoint, he is exceedingly attractive. There is no doubt in your mind that he would easily be able to land a woman if he so desired.

“So then why?”

He sets his jaw, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows and fixes his stare out the window. And it’s this final refusal, this steadfast dedication to not explaining himself, that finally has tears tracking down your cheeks.

The sight of you crying has his attention snapping back your way, hands reaching out as if to hold you.

“Don’t touch me,” you gasp, recoiling until you’re out of reach. “I…I hate you.”

It almost seems as if your voice lands physically, and Jungkook staggers back like you’ve slapped him, remorse immediately wiggling its way between your ribs. You know you don’t mean the words even as they fall from your mouth, but it feels pointless to take them back now, the sentiment already thrown out there and hovering in the hollow space between you.

Jungkook muddles towards the couch–more of a defeated slump dragging his steps than anger–and you think he’s going to sit down before he whirls back towards you at the last second.

“The gala,” he mutters. “That’s when I decided.”

You know which one he’s talking about. Hosted by your medical school to celebrate the end of the academic year, it had been a night of food, dancing, and socializing. You had, of course, brought him as your date and introduced him to your friends and classmates, excited to finally allow him to put faces to names. As you comb through your memories of the night, you can’t pinpoint any warning signs, only remembering the way he’d smiled at you throughout. The way he’d pulled you close and danced you around the room.

“I don’t…I don’t understand.”

He rakes his fingers through his hair again, tossing strands of night over his forehead. A sad chuckle looses itself into the thick air of the room, and the final dregs of his resolve flicker away. “I realized that I didn’t deserve to stand next to you. That you could do much better than me.”

Whatever you thought his reason had been–whatever theories or thoughts had kept you up night after night for the past year–this is not even close to what you expected. And while you always thought finally receiving an answer would be freeing, would offer you some semblance of understanding, you’re surprised at the rage that boils in the pit of your stomach, bile rising in your throat.

“Are you fucking serious right now?” you growl, taking an angered step towards him. “You were feeling insecure, and you made the decision to break up with me without even thinking to, I don’t know, discuss it with me first?”

His hand goes to the back of his neck now, embarrassment showing its face as he peers at you from under his lashes. “I was stupid–”

“No, shit.”

“But can you blame me?” he presses. “There we were: you, about to be this incredible doctor with all of your doctor friends…” His voice falters, sorrow lacing his tone. “And I’m just a tattoo artist.”

The defeatist way he says it helps to dampen your ire some, even if a heap of frustration remains–the sad shape of his doe eyes softening your edges.

“Just a tattoo artist,” you repeat. “Jungkook, I have always been so, so proud of you. I was never anything but proud to have you as my partner. You must’ve known that.”

His teeth worry his lip, and though he nods, he doesn’t seem fully convinced.

So you continue on, closing the distance between you a fraction more. “You started your own business from nothing. And I saw how hard you worked: to get the building, to hire other artists, train your apprentices.” You shake your head–half in irritation, half in awe. “And look at you now! You’re thriving. The last I heard, if you want an appointment at Golden Tattoo, you need to book months in advance.”

His eyes are alight now, some hidden emotion glimmering under the surface, but he stays quiet as he soaks in your words.

“So how can you possibly act like you weren’t enough?” you push. “You are amazing, Jungkook. And I never gave a shit about any job comparisons people may have made.” One more step, and suddenly you’re almost chest-to-chest. As always, you’re unable to resist the pull of his gravity. Yanked right back into his orbit. “I only wanted you. I’ve only ever wanted y–”

He cuts you off with his mouth, strong hands snagging your hips to pull you against him, and your own fingers reflexively tangle in his black hoodie as your subconscious gives itself over to him. Like it’s been waiting for this.

“I’m not. Not thriving,” he mumbles against your lips. “Not without you. Been miserable without you.”

And in spite of your anger, in spite of the fact that you were ready to kick him out a mere hour ago, you find yourself kissing him back, relishing the slick glide of his tongue as he licks into your mouth.

You startle as the backs of your knees suddenly bump against the couch, and then Jungkook is spinning as he settles onto the plush seat, pulling you along to straddle him. He sucks at your neck until you can feel the blood blooming under your skin, painting you like the pretty ink on his arm.

Speaking of.

The fabric of his hoodie whispers as you pull it up and over his back and head, tossing it over his shoulder and into a corner. His arms now bare to you, you gloss over his tattoos with your eyes and fingers until you find the one you’d picked out for him; the lovely orange of the flower petals seem to glow even in the dim light of the room.

“Beautiful,” you whisper.

“Just like you.”

You look at him then, the twinkle of tiny galaxies in his eyes betraying his hope. And before you can go any further, you need confirmation.

“You left.”

“I did.” Fingertips press lightly against your waist like he’s afraid you might be the one to disappear now. “I’m sorry.”

“Jungkook, if…” You lick your lips. Can almost taste his regret. “If we do this and you leave again–”

“If we do this, I'm not going anywhere,” he insists, tugging your hips down to grind against him and ghosting a kiss at your jaw. “Just wanna be here with you. Just want you.”

And it’s all you need to hear.

You shed the cotton shirt you had thrown on after your shower and move to yank his own off, tossing it in the same corner as his hoodie. The muscles of his pecs and abs shift under your hands, burning hot where your fingers trace the contours of his torso.

“God, I missed this,” he groans as he buries his face between your breasts, nipping at the skin there before laving the spot with his tongue.

You’d agree–echo the sentiment that your body has been aching for this–if not for the fact that you’re too busy trying to get the two of you naked, thumbs hooking into the waistband of your shorts.

But a tattooed hand covers yours, eases it away to take its place. “No,” he rumbles. “Let me.”

Wide palms and long fingers span your hips and thighs, grasping as much skin as possible even as he drags your shorts and panties down your legs and helps to steady you as you kick them off. They join the tangle of his own clothes

“Fucking gorgeous,” he growls at the sight of you finally naked in front of him. And with such speed that it almost seems like it’s involuntary, an impulse outside of his control, he’s immediately stroking at the apex of your thighs.

“Baby, this wet for me already?” A breathy sigh passes from his mouth to yours, almost laughing at the ease with which he glides through your folds. “Hell, I could just–”

A finger slips in and you gasp, Jungkook smiling wickedly at you as he quickly adds a second and curls them against your walls. You force your eyes closed as they roll back in your head, and you keel forward, babbling incoherently against the line of his collarbone.

“Use your words, love; you can do it.” He says it as if his fingers aren’t currently buried in you down to the knuckle. As if he’s not making you see stars behind your eyelids right now.

You choke down a breath, desperate for the oxygen. “Insane,” you pant. “I said you’re fucking insane.”

“Only for you,” he says before sliding his digits out of you and dipping them into his mouth. He moans at the taste, and even with his lips closed tightly, you can see the way he’s working his tongue around each finger, unwilling to waste a single drop of your essence.

Like you said. Insane.

He gives you a moment to catch your breath until you’re the one who’s getting impatient, hastily undoing his belt and tearing it from his pants with a hiss. But as you shift off of him so he can slither out of his pants and boxers–his length springing free to slap against his smooth stomach–you’re hit with an untimely realization.

“Jungkook, I don’t have condoms.”

He freezes, the color draining from his face (though admittedly, that may be because all of his blood has clearly gone south). The two of you stare at each other for a long second before he suddenly leans over, rummaging back through his pants pockets. He pulls out his wallet, rifles through it, then tosses it across the room in frustration, head tilting back against the couch as he groans at the ceiling.

“Fuck, me neither.”

You chew at your lip, a loaded quiet settling over the room as Jungkook wipes a hand over his face.

“I’m still on birth control,” you whisper, and Jungkook whips his head around, eyes wide and questioning like he’s not sure he heard you right. But you don’t repeat yourself, only hold his stare until he’s tentatively reaching out to graze his fingertips along your thigh.

“I told you. There’s been no one else.” His expression is earnest, eager. You trust that he’s telling the truth, and yet you also know that if you refused him, if you said you weren’t comfortable, he wouldn’t push.

So you swing a leg back over his lap, drag your wet folds against his cock. He moans, gripping your thighs hard, but he leans in to bite at your lower lip with a growl before pulling back to search your face.

“You?”

It hurts that he even feels the need to ask. Because how could you even want someone else? Who could possibly measure up?

You brush a reassuring, barely-there kiss against his already swollen lips. “No one else for me either.”

This seems to please him, but you still see hesitation behind his eyes as he asks, “What about the guy downstairs?”

A drunken mistake was what that was. All sloppy lips and fumbling hands that had left you feeling more empty than anything, and which resulted in you sending Cheol away before he had even gotten a peek at your bedroom.

“We made out once,” you admit, hating that you’re even having to think about another man when Jungkook is here in front of you. “But nothing else happened.”

“Good,” he grunts, but his fingers dig into your backside like he’s trying to reclaim you. And just a fraction of a second later, he’s devilishly tonguing his lip ring as he winds his palm back to bring it down harshly against the meat of your ass, the smack echoing between the walls almost endlessly.

“Ride me, baby.”

You’re quick to line him up–desperate, at this point, to have him inside of you–and begin to ease yourself down slowly, trying to give your body the space and time to adjust to the burning stretch of his girth. He’s always filled you to your absolute limit, tested the furthest boundaries of how much your body can take with his size.

“Yesss,” he hisses, nipping at your neck once again. “You’re doing great, love. Always take me so fucking well.”

You gasp as he bottoms out, struggling to catch your breath with the relentless push of him. If you were a betting woman, you’d put money on your intestines being somewhere in the area of your throat right now.

He wraps his inked arm around your waist, continuing to whisper his praises against the shell of your ear as he starts to guide your body up and down. Intoxicated by the smooth slide of his length, you soon find your pace, and your shared moans fill the room–the whole city probably able to hear you right now.

You move that way until the pressure building becomes too much and your legs start to tremble, quivering against Jungkook’s own muscled thighs.

“It’s okay; I’ve got you.” He bands his arms around you and presses you to his chest, holding you in place so he can thrust upwards.

Hard.

You’re practically screaming now, burying your teeth into his shoulder so as to muffle your sounds and not scare the neighbors. It’s all you can do to hold on for dear life as he rapidly pistons his cock inside of you, the slap of your hips like a metronome.

It builds and builds until it breaks and you’re falling apart in his arms, the spasms of your inner walls pulling him over the edge with you as he empties his seed deep inside.

The silence that follows in unlike the others you previously shared this evening–tension traded for serenity as you sit on the couch holding each other, you still contentedly stuffed full of him. He traces the ridges of your spine in a soothing pattern that has your eyelids drooping, your cheek resting against the warm skin of his neck.

“I missed this,” you whisper once your brain has finally remembered how to construct human speech.

“I missed you.”

You pull back so you can rest your forehead against his and gently run a finger over the lines of his face. “Where do we go from here?”

He hums. Tucks a stray hair behind your ear. “Take it day by day?” he suggests. “We don’t need to rush into anything if you don’t want to.”

“Mm, that does seem like a problem for tomorrow.”

A dark eyebrow quirks, teasing. “And what about right now?”

“Now?” you ask. “Do you remember the way to the bedroom? Or…” You shift your hips, already feeling him twitching inside of you.

“Or.” He jolts forward to capture your mouth in a hot kiss, and you smile into it, whole again. “Or sounds good.”

a/n: pls like, reblog, reply, and/or send an ask if you enjoyed! <3

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #bts x reader #bts x you #bts imagines #jungkook imagines #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #bts angst #bts smut #bts fluff #bts fic #bts fanfic

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mysicklove · 6 months

Text

𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋!

DAY 18: DRY ORGASM

With: Yuuta Okkotsu

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: Sub! Yuuta, gn! reader, multiple orgasm, sorta mentions of cnc? idk, "breeder balls" are used in a silly goofy way, pregnancy mentioned, yuuta cums a total of six times, unrealistic portrayal of dry orgasms.

A/N: i almost named this fic breeder balls just to mess with all you guys. kinktober is driving me crazy

“It will be fun. C’mon, just trust me!” You tease, pressing kisses along Yuuta’s neck while he sighs. You sit behind him, hands resting on his stomach while you continue to pepper kisses along his neck. One of his weaker points.

He lets out a shaky breath and then whines gently. “I don’t know…I-It sounds kinda scary.”

“Aw, scary? C’mon, my big, strong, sorcerer boyfriend isn’t afraid of anything,” You quip, teeth grazing his pale skin when you smile into his back.

Your hands begin to roam up and down his body, and he gulps but doesn’t stop you. He does let out a noise of complaint about your choice of words though. “Yknow that isn’t true,” He mumbles out, pouting slightly.

You pinch his nipples, and he lets out a high-pitched squeal before turning to you with a half-hearted glare. “Sorry, they are too cute.”

He sighs, slumping against your chest and closing his eyes. “You're the worst.”

“Aw, you don’t mean that. You love me.”

He glances at you before rolling his eyes and nodding softly. Yeah, he did, even with all your teasing.

“Yuutaaaaa,” You purr, getting back to the main point. “Let’s do it.”

He hums, nodding for you to continue to try to convince him. He was still unsure and slightly nervous at the thought.

“You will look so cute. Haven’t you always wanted to cum like a girl? To have every ounce of cum milked out of you,” You bite his ear, earning a whole body shiver from the boy. “Forced out of you. Till you’re shooting blanks.”

That immmediately perks him up, and he cranes his head backward to look up at you with a sheepish grin. He already feels himself growing hard.

“F-Forced?”

You grin.

“No more! No more! Please!” He screeches, tears and drool coating his face and falling onto the sheets below him. He was heaving, and he feels like every inch of his body was covered in cum. His thighs and stomach were so sticky, and he was unbelievably sweaty.

Shaky legs try to crawl forward, away from your tortuous hands, but he ultimately fails. You use one arm to grab him by the waist and pull him back. “Where do you think you are going?”

He lets out a pathetic “Noooo!” as his fingers drag along the sheets back toward you. His thighs shake as he tries to hold his body up, and he buries his face into a pillow.

You hum to yourself, sitting cross-legged and fully clothed, contrasting your lover’s naked body. His knees straddle your legs, giving you a perfect sight of his ass and easier access to pull him back whenever he tries to crawl away.

His thighs, stomach, balls, and even your hand were coated with his cum, and is beginning to dry up from how long its been. But nevertheless, your hands continue to work at his cock, pulling it slightly downward so that it hangs between his open legs.

Yuuta lets out a choking noise, a mix between a gargle and a yelp, and suddenly he is cumming again. He doesn’t say anything as his orgasm comes crashing upon him again, but you weren’t surprised – he went borderline nonverbal after the third one.

His chest rises and falls with his rapid breathing, and you watch his whole body tense up. His tears stain the pillow, and his mouth hangs open in a silent scream. The only thing that showed that he was in pleasure was the way his nails dug into the sheets as if he wanted to tear them apart from how intense the sensation was.

You frown through it all, and watch two globs of cum slide down your finger. His legs give out, and he begins to slump on the bed, but you are quick to grab him and hold his waist up with your arm. “Am I–Did I? Are we d-done?” He stutters, his voice raw from his previous screams and cries. You hear him sniffle and watch the way a shaky arm rubs at his nose.

You lightly slap his thigh. “Nope. Almost there, Yuuta! The next one will definitely be dry. Think I got the last couple of drops,” You say, pointing to his cum staining your hand.

He looks up at you with wide, fearful eyes and starts squirming in your hold. “No! I can’t go anymore. A-And you said that the last couple of times!” He screeches, legs kicking out like a toddler throwing a tantrum, trying desperately to run away from your hold.

Your hands remain on his waist, and you move your body aside so that he doesn’t accidentally kick you with his frantic, panicked movements. His dick was raw at this point, and every muscle was trembling. He couldn’t go again – he was exhausted, completely pushed to his limits.

“Hey, hey, hey. Relax. This time I'm really sure! How many times have you ejaculated?”

He pauses for a moment, gulping as he thinks back to the previous events. “I think after that…Five times?”

You giggle at him, and the sound makes him tense up. Whenever he is put in these positions, and you laugh, it never is a good sign for him. “Woah, Yuuta, you really have a lot of cum stored up. I’ve heard that most men go dry after their third one…Don’t tell me your pent up?” You babble, passing time to hopefully let his body rest for a moment. Overstimulating him would probably kill the dark-haired boy.

He sniffles again, and then furrows his eyes and turns back toward you. “Im not, though. Came two days ago, remember?”

You think back to the night and chuckle fondly. “Yeah, I guess your right. Guess my lovely boyfriend just has breeder balls.” You laugh at yourself from the ridiculous word.

His mouth hangs open at your crude words, and he turns a bright shade of pink. Immediately, he tries to scramble out of your hold again, but you just laugh at his flustered noises. “Why would you say something like that? So embarrassing…And no, I don’t,” Your boyfriend complains, shaking his head back and forth to execute his point.

You hum to yourself, content that he has finally calmed down again, at least enough to put up and actively respond to your teasing words.

“Bet you could get any girl pregnant,” You continue to coax, mind drifting off from your words to return to your original motive. You begin to situate yourself again, hands moving back to the task at hand.

“Stop it, please! It’s so,” He groans into the pillow, unaware that you have begun to stand up. “I don’t know! Just sto–” Suddenly, his head is being forced into the pillow, and your hand is back onto his cock. Your movements are rough and fast, and his whole body seems to short-circuit.

Yuutas eyes widen as he feels the back of your hand pin his head into the pillow, and he feels your hands wrap around his dick again. He doesn’t even have time to react, except for a surprised yelp. By the time his brain catches up to the sensation, you have already palmed him four times now, and he is so sensitive. “W-Wait!” He begs, tears resurfacing.

The sound of your hand wrapping around his red cock is lewd. Loud squelching sounds fill the room, and he knows that the wetness is from his previous cum. It makes your head spin, and Yuuta wants to die from embarrassment.

Your hand finally lets go of his neck, and he pulls away immediately, gasping out for air. His back arches, and he begins his clawing at the bedsheets again. “F-Fuck,” Your lover whimpers, tears free streaming again.

His cock feels raw by now. Five orgasms in a row was an insane amount to him. The farthest he had gone before this was three, before he was forced to call it quits, or else risking him passing out. Right now, his mind seemed to be melting from the harsh feeling.

You have to support his body still by hoisting his hips upward. His forehead touches the sheets, and his bangs cover his face as he looks downward. It was almost disappointing that you couldn’t see his pretty expressions, but from what you could see by his sporadic movements, Yuuta was crumbling.

It hurt. Your hands were too rough. The pace was too intense. He can’t think anymore. His mouth hangs open, and his tongue threatens to loll out. All he can hear is your hands and his cum, and honestly, although he hates to admit it, it was spurring him closer to his orgasm.

Just one more. He can do that. He can cum one more time. Everything in him pleads for it to be dry, because he may seriously die if he has to go a seventh round.

So, with everything in him, he begins to grind into your hand, trying to coax his orgasm to come quicker. He lets out a silent scream, and he furrows his eyes shut but doesn’t stop fucking back into your hand.

You watch with amusement at the trembling boy’s movements. He was trying his best, and it was honestly quite cute. Just for him, you pick up the pace of your hand movements.

The reaction to it is immediate – the muscular body curls over on itself as he heaves. You bring him closer to you, now using both hands to jack him off, hoping he doesn’t collapse just for a couple more seconds.

Yuuta’s eyes roll back, and he can faintly hear your encouragements. “C’mon, love. Just one more. Cum for me one more time.”

He bites onto the pillow and nods his head, unable to give you a reply. He can feel his orgasm approaching, and frankly, it scared him. It was going to be a strong one, he could tell, and he was unsure if his body was able to take it. He was already shaking at this point, could his muscles really constrict one more time? He could barely hold himself up.

He doesn’t have time to dwell on it, because his orgasm hits him out of the blue. For the first time since his second orgasm, Yuuta screams into the pillow. His thighs come squeezing together, and his fingers dig into anything they can grab. Tears continue to rush down his face, and he tries his best to breathe.

His knees come forward, and accidentally, he raises his hips higher into the air, creating a pretty arch in his back. You watch, mesmerized by the show, and then glance at his cock.

Not a single drop of cum is let out. You grin, and rub his thighs, coaxing him through it all, proud of him.

He slumps against the bed and this time you let him. Then, he very slowly turns to you, eyes cloudy. “I–I?” He tries, brain not catching up with him.

“Yep, good job. Came dry. I’m so proud of you.”

He gives you a lazy, but satisfied grin, nodding slightly. You crawl over to him, sitting down next to his head. He places his near-limp hand on your knee, and you hold onto it. “Guess…Guess I–No breeder balls for me,” He mumbles in full seriousness, as if he is proud of the fact.

You have to cover your mouth to refrain from laughing too loud. You place your head over his eyes, shutting them for him. “Guess not. Sleep, Yuuta.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know.” He falls asleep not even a minute later. You don’t blame him.

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#mello.writes #Barkforme!#Kinktober 2023 #dom! reader #dom reader #gn reader #x reader #reader insert #yuuta smut #yuta x reader #yuta smut #yuuta okkotsu x reader #yuuta okkotsu smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #sub! yuuta #sub yuuta #jjk x reader smut

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scarletlizzard · 1 month

Text

Inked Desires - Part 2

Read Part 1 right here

Summary: After your one night stand with a stranger turns into a regular hookup, feelings begin to develop between you and Natasha. A night out at the bar with your friends has her begging wanting more with you.

Pairing: gp!Natasha x fem!Reader

Tags MINORS DNI: natasha has a dick, buff out this world & covered with tats and piercings, little bit of yearning and pining, mentions of alcohol, smut, blowjob, unprotected sex, breeding, begging, miscommunication

Masterlist

A/N: Part 1 blew up like crazy! I never ever thought I would EVER get that many notes. Especially for, essentially, a smut piece I wasn't used to writing. After being asked a few times, I agreed to make a part 2, buuut I've been in a (bad) writing rut lately. So I wanna shout out the person who gave me so many good ideas and an actual plot to work with. Y'all can thank just her for there actually being a part 2 cause there almost wasn't one 🙏 Thanks for helping, kisses for your big brilliant brain.

Hopefully, she and y'all like it? It's a bit longer. Let me know what you think, please, and thank you thank you so much for reading 💞

That being said, there will be a part 3 😄

"Split? Like down the middle?" Kate asks with a look of shock on her face. You walk in step beside her along the concrete path on campus.

"Right down the middle," you laugh and adjust the bag on your shoulder, thinking back to just a few days ago when Natashas skillful tongue worked its magic on your body. Your cheeks heat up at the memory.

That first night you met, Natasha had given you a kiss goodbye and gave you her number before you took a very drunk Kate Bishop home. Since then you had seen the redhead multiple times over the course of the last few weeks. Neither of you seemed to be able to keep your hands off of each other. Each time you met it was for sex, and even the time she had taken you to dinner it ended with you getting fucked into her mattress again.

You knew the basics about each other, where you lived, eachothers jobs... the more you thought about it the more it upset you. The physical level the two of you were on was heavenly, but really, well, you barely knew her.

Kates voice interrupts your thoughts as you enter the English building, and you stop walking as she does.

"What was that?" You ask, looking to the smirk plastered on her face with curiosity.

"I said, speak of the devil," she chuckles and nods her head in the direction of a very tall Natasha striding your way. "See you in there," Kate says and walks into the classroom, leaving you in the hallway.

You want to drown in the sight of her, wearing dark jeans and a white t-shirt with old, dirty vans on her feet. You smile, trying not to drool at the way you can see the pops of color show from underneath her shirt or the way the sleeves seem too tight against her biceps as she grips the strap of her backpack.

"Hey there..." Natasha greets you with a smile, head pointing down as she stills before you. "Been a few days, haven't heard from you," she adds, her eyes baring into yours. You want to slap yourself for not replying to her text by the almost hurt look in her eyes.

"Well it hasn't even been a week, you miss me already?" You ask her with a little tilt of your head up at her, biting your lip as you see a blush spread across her cheeks. Her hand moves to the side of her neck, scratching at the ink awkwardly.

"No, no. Wait, I mean -" She lets out a sigh and shakes her head as you giggle at her. It was interesting, the difference in her appearance verses this nervous demeanor. "Maybe I did?" Natasha raises an eyebrow, the silver ring lifting higher.

"I might have missed you too," you shrug casually and watch as her face eases back into a smile. "I'm sorry I haven't texted, I've just been so busy with school and work." You point to the classroom next to you that Kate had entered. She follows the direction and nods.

"No worries, you're a busy lady. I actually took Mr. Furys class last year. Maybe I could take you for a coffee and give you some tips? Or maybe just um, talk?" Natasha asks, her tone quiet as she looks down to you.

You smile at the sincerity in her eyes. "I'm free after this class?" You take a step back, towards the room and match the wide smile on her lips.

"Sounds perfect," Natasha nods, and you can't ignore the way your heart speeds up in your chest. Instead of taking another step away you walk forward, leaning up on your tip toes to press a soft kiss to her cheek.

Natasha can feel the burn on her cheeks, the affect you had on her drove her wild. You lean back and smile at her flustered state, leaving her alone in the now empty hallway.

An hour and a half later, you emerge from the classroom, the butterflies in your stomach fluttering around at the sight of Natasha sitting on the floor. She had a book in her hand, closing it the moment she saw you and Kate walking towards her.

"Have you been sitting there this whole time?" You ask and tilt your head, watching the way her muscles flex as she runs a hand through her auburn hair.

"Uh, maybe?" A small blush hints on her cheeks, and she smiles at you and your friend. "I'm Natasha, by the way," she says and holds out her hand in front of Kate.

Kate chuckles at the formality, and you hit her arm, giving her a look. She shakes Natashas hand, "Kate... nice to finally meet you," She smiles back and looks next to her at you. "I'll see you tomorrow night, you should invite your friend."

You roll your eyes at Kates tease but nod and tell her you'll see her later.

"Coffee?" Natasha asks, and the ridiculous grin on her face is enough for you to agree to just about anything.

As you walk side by side, you can't help but admire her gentle personality. This woman, covered in tattoos and piercings with an intimidating gaze, was the complete opposite. She spoke to you about her schedule and that she was in school for sports medicine with a glint in her eyes.

"Like physical therapy?" You ask her curiously. You watched the way her face lit up at your interest, and she beamed down to you.

"Yeah, exactly that. If all else fails, I'll just be a personal trainer," she lets out a small chuckle, and you take the second she holds the door open for you to admire her toned body.

"How do I sign up? I need a good workout partner," you say with a flirtatious tone, brushing against her as you walk inside. You relish the blush on her cheeks and the small smirk on her lips as the smell of fresh coffee hits you.

"Didn't get a good enough workout last week?" Natasha replies.

"Oh, I had a great workout... but if I had a personal trainer, I'm sure I could get a good workout in at least a few times a week. Isn't that recommended?" You look up to her, seeing her neck redden and her eyes darken.

"I would definitely recommend that," Natasha mumbles as the two of you walk up to the counter.

As Natasha orders, you can't help but notice the change in her posture and attitude. Suddenly, she was standing straight, an impassive and series look on her face. Her tone was low as she talked to the woman at the counter. Natasha turns to you and nods for you to order. You do, and as she hands the woman her card, you smile up at her.

"Thank you for getting this for me," you say gratefully, watching her melt under your gaze. The smile was back, and her eyes came to life again. It seemed she had a soft spot for you.

"Of course, it's my treat," she says and walks you to a small table in the corner.

From there, you spend the entire rest of the evening actually talking and getting to know Natasha. As you already knew, she works out religiously, and you told her how lucky you felt that she had skipped her workout today just to sit down with you. She got her first tattoo at 18 and loved it, so she just never stopped getting them. The first piercing she got was on her eyebrow, and the same there, she just kept going.

It felt as if you were sitting in front of a whole new person than the one you met just weeks ago. The one who pile drived you into the mattress at a party and left you weak in the legs and sore the next day. Natasha was kind and sweet, funny, and surprisingly shy. Any time you made an attempt to flirt or give an innuendo, she would chuckle shyly and blush the slightest.

There were a few times you even had to squeeze your thighs as you thought back to that night. Any time her tongue would wet her lower lip or her eyes would travel to your neck. She loved your neck, you noticed. Every time you had hooked up her lips would go straight for the skin there, nipping at the few small freckles that adorned the area.

"That's a long time to be friends with someone," Natasha states as you finish telling her about yours and Kates relationship. Best friends since the fourth grade, completely inseparable.

"It's nice to have someone so close, who knows me so well. Especially since I'm an only child," you reply and watch her brow lift.

"Oh really? I have a sister, Yelena. She bugs the hell out of me, but I love her to death. She goes to the college just a couple of hours from here. Actually," Natasha looks at her phone, checking the time. "I'm supposed to meet her soon... she came home for the weekend."

You nod slowly and look around, realizing everyone had left and the two baristas were cleaning up. As the two of you stand, Natasha suddenly towering over at you, you feel a little disappointment in your chest. You were having more fun with her than you thought, and you found yourself not wanting to part.

"Hey, Kate and I are going to this bar tomorrow night. A few of our friends are getting together. Joes?" You say to her, smiling to yourself as she once again holds the door open for you.

"Yeah, I've been there a few times before," Natasha says with a grin, standing outside the coffee shop with you.

"If you want, maybe you and Yelena can meet us? You don't have to, of course, but..." You trail off.

"I will definitely be there. Text me a time?" She asks, and you nod happily. Natasha leans down, and you think for a second she's going to kiss you, but her lips land on the soft skin of your cheek. You put your hand on her arm as she does, feeling the tattooed skin burn underneath your touch.

****

Joes Bar is crowded, but that's to be expected on a Saturday night near a college campus. A local alternative band plays loudly on the small stage on one side of the room, and you find yourself on the opposite side sitting at the bar. Kate is nearby talking to friends and a few strangers, but you only had one person in mind.

You glance at your phone again, seeing no notifications. With a sigh, you finish your second drink, ordering a third as you contemplated the possibility she wasn't going to show up. This is why you didn't do this type of thing. You don't hook up with hot strangers. You don't get coffee with gorgeous, sweet women. You stayed to yourself, guarded your heart, and let yourself be safe from any type of rejection or heartbreak.

But God Natasha was worth breaking your rules.

You found your way back to reality as the bartender handed you a drink and said thank you before grabbing it and removing yourself from the bar stool. As you turn, you bump into someone, almost spilling your drink on them.

"Oh shit I'm so sorry!" You apologize, shaking the liquor off your hand as you had spilled a little on yourself.

"It's okay, I was just trying to squeeze in next to you," the woman says, and in your tipsy state, you raise an eyebrow. She seemed about your age, dirty blonde hair, and a familiar grin on her lips. You definitely hadn't seen her in here before.

"I was just getting up, actually. You can have my seat. Is that an accent I hear?" You ask curiously, moving out of the way so she could take your place.

"Yeah, I still have a bit of an accent, I was born in Russia. Lived there for a while," she says and nods. She then orders two drinks before turning back to you.

"Wow, you're a long way from there. You go to school here?" You ask her and sip your drink, feeling Kate stand behind you.

"No, but my sister does, though," the blonde smiles and grabs the two bottles of beer from the bartender. She looks at you and extends her arm towards Kate to hand her a bottle. You give her a confused look.

It's only then you realize, as an inked hand reaches over you to take the beer, that it's not Kate standing there, but Natasha. You turn instantly and look up, a habit your neck was quickly getting used to doing.

"Well, well, look who showed up," you say and take your bottom lip between your teeth. Natasha smiles at your words, noticing the way you take in her appearance.

If it was possible, Natasha looked hotter than ever. She wore a black t shirt underneath a leather jacket. Her flaming hair was behind her in a braid with a few loose strands framing her face.

"I see you've met my sister, Yelena," Natasha chuckles and nods in the direction of the blonde woman.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N. Natty here hasn't been able to shut up abou-" Yelena is cut off by Natasha flicking the bottle cap at her face, a stern expression on the older woman's face.

You smile at the siblings' banter, watching Yelena laugh and shrug innocently. Whether it be the alcohol flowing in your bloodstream or the way Natasha looked at you, you slide your hand into hers. She tenses at first, not used to the public display of affection from you, but quickly relaxes as you intertwine your fingers with hers.

"Come on, come meet everyone," you say and tug on her hand in the direction of Kate.

You find them huddled around a pool table, watching as Kate lines up the pool tip to the cue ball with one eye closed. Carol stands leaning against her own stick, shaking her head and putting out the cigarette she smokes into the ashtray on the edge of the table.

"Anyday, Bishop..." Carol groans, earning a laugh from the group.

"Seriously, how long are you going to take?" Peter chimes in.

Kate ignores them and continues to stare intensely at the 8 ball. Her arm begins to pull back to take the shot, but as Yelena comes into focus on the opposite side of the table, Kate is finally distracted by the beautiful blonde. The cue ball misses her target completely, rolling across the table and sinking into the pocket.

"Scratch!" Carol cheers and high fives Monica. Kate looked up at Yelena, her lips parted as if she was going to speak, but no words came out. Carol then steps up to the table and sinks the 8 ball, ending the game with a dramatic bow.

You smile at the group, raising an eyebrow at the silent state of your best friend. "Guys, this is Natasha and her sister Yelena," you say, receiving waves and friendly greetings from everyone. You introduce them to the Romanoffs a little more before they rack up for another game.

"You any good?" Carol nods to Natasha, who gives a humble shrug.

"I'm decent," she replies with a smirk on her face as she brings the bottle to her lips. Carol hands the pool stick over before going to get drinks for the group.

"Hope you're good, Romanoff. We still haven't beat Y/N," Peter says begrudgingly. You only hum in response as Kate hands you her stick, positioning yourself across the table.

"Is that so?" Natasha watches with playful eyes as you skillfully break, the balls rolling in different directions along the table and a few of them sinking into the pockets.

When you lean up, you smile and reach your hand up to pat her cheek. "Good thing you didn't bet anything," you chuckle.

After a few back and forth turns, Carol returns with shots, to which you all cheer and take at the same time. The alcohol was definitely settling its way into your system now, and you were hot to the touch each time Natasha had to lean down to take her shot. Between the focused look on her face and the way the pool stick slid between her fingers, it was enough for you to want her right there.

You step forward next to her, looking at the direction of the shot she was trying to take. "That's a tough one, baby," you say to her, the term of endearment catching Natasha off guard.

Her body visibly tenses as she looks to you with a visceral reaction and swallows hard. You feign an innocent smile, taking a mental note to call her that again just to see her reaction. Natasha misses the shot and curses under her breath.

"That's not fair," she says and shakes her head as she stands tall. The red head removes her jacket, finding that the room was getting hotter.

You shrug and easily pocket two more balls on your turn. When you look to Kate to make a comment about the shot, you realize she's strayed from the group, chatting up Yelena. With your friends being in their own worlds at the moment, you decide to have a little fun with Natasha.

"You're not so bad, you know. The others have a hard time keeping up with me," you smile as she leans down, and your hand rests on her back, rubbing over her shirt.

"Y/n," Natasha mumbles, the blush on her cheeks evident she enjoyed your touch.

"Yes, Nat?" You pur, watching the muscles flex understand the fabric. Knowing you had this type of effect on her gave you a sense of power that only made you hungry for more. Your hand slithers underneath the bottom of her shirt, nails scratching at her back. She misses. You smile.

"You're a cheater, you know that?" Natasha says in a playful tone, her body naturally leaning towards you.

Your hands rest on her stomach, "I don't know what you're talking about." You lean up and plant a soft kiss on her lips, smirking as she leans down and melts against your mouth. "I'm just having fun," you whisper.

At that, you step away from her, crossing over to the opposite side of the table. You lean down more than you need to, and you don't miss the way Natashas eyes dart back and forth from your breasts to your neck. She finishes another bottle, and you can tell you've stressed her out by the way her hand grips the glass.

You continue to do the same thing for the remainder of the game, teasing her with every shot she took and making sure to bend in front of her any chance you could. It came down to the 8 ball, and you had to admit, you were dragging the game on longer than you needed to.

"Last one," you sigh and put your hand on the back of her neck as she leans down. Your fingers squeeze gently as she clears her throat, trying to ignore the shivers that run down her spine every time you touch her. You lean down with her, your lips brushing against her ear. "Good luck, baby," you whisper and kiss her cheek.

Her neck gets red at your words, and her grip on the stick only tightens. You think it'll snap in half with how hard she holds it. Natasha quickly shoots and misses, causing you to raise an eyebrow with just how quick she took the shot. Instead of stepping back, she continues to stand pressed against the table. "All yours," she mumbles and holds her hand out to the table, shifting uncomfortably as she stands.

You line up the shot and sink the black ball easily, looking up at her with a wide smile. She only gives you a small smile back with a nod. "Aren't you going to give me a victory kiss?" You ask as you step back to her.

Natasha hesitates for a moment but finally turns to face you. Your hands move up to wrap around her neck, your body pressing against her front as she leans in. Before your lips can touch your eyes, widen the slightest. You now realize the reason for the sudden uncomfortable physical shift she had taken when you felt her bulge pressing hard against you.

"Oh... was I teasing you too much?" You ask with a smirk on your lips. She rolls her eyes and moves to pull away, but you don't let her. "What was it?" You ask her.

"What was what?" She replies, her hands moving to your waist. You press your body further into her and relish the hiss that leaves her mouth.

You search her eyes, thinking to the moment her demeanor had changed. Suddenly, there was that power-hungry feeling again when you realized the reasoning. The fact that you could get her hot and bothered by a simple word leaving your lips, by your voice alone, and the thought of you driving someone like her mad. Natasha was weak in the knees for you, and she struggled internally with the way you made her feel. She wasn't used to it.

"Why don't you let me help you take care of your little problem... baby, " you whisper to her, feeling her shoulders tense above you. "Come on." You slide back and take her hand in yours, leading her away from the pool table and towards the bathroom.

As soon as both of you are inside and you lock the door, the two of you are on top of each other just like the first night you met her. Natasha kisses you feverishly, like she'd never been kissed before, with your back hard against the door. You welcomed her tongue into your mouth, moaning as the two halves wrap around your own.

With one hand, you hold onto the front of her shirt, gripping tightly, with the other you slide it in between your bodies, letting yourself grope the hard bulge in her jeans. Natasha lets a hint of a whimper leave her lips, one you hadn't heard since the first time with her, and you smirk into the kiss.

"What's the matter, baby? Do you need some help?" You ask innocently, lips ghosting hers. She breathes heavily and nods as your hands move to undo her belt.

"Sweetheart... please," she says, and you decide in that moment that you need her to say that again. Just the idea that this strong, formidable woman could so easily melt in your presence made you thrilled.

Her hands rest on either side above your head, pressed flat against the door as you slide her pants down. You can see the precum dampening a spot on her underwear, and you feel yourself get wet at the sight of it. She needed you, bad.

"Please, what?" You ask, your hand moves to grab her through her boxers, and you stroke her length through the thin fabric.

"Fu-fuck," she barely breathes out, eyes searching yours. Natasha hadn't begged a day in her life, but she would happily beg for you. She was at the point right now that she was willing to get down on her knees and beg for you. You made her desperate.

"Please touch me, please. You feel how hard I am for you? Just -" You squeezing a little harder makes her gasp before continuing. "I need you to touch me. Please, sweetheart... please, " she begs. You smile at her words, enjoying the way her body melts at your touch and the way she begs for you.

At her words you slide down her boxers, and her cock twitches at the feeling of finally being released. She lets out a sigh of relief as your delicate fingers wrap around her. "Is this what you wanted?" You hum, beginning to move your hand up and down. Natasha nods, chest beginning to rise and fall rapidly at your movements.

When you stop, she looks at you with a disoriented look, eyebrows lifting as she watches you drop to your knees. You take her cock in your hand, letting your other rest on her thick, toned thigh. From here you can see her happy trail peaking from underneath her shirt, making your panties wetter. The way she looks down at you with a breathless expression and parted lips makes you want to live your life on your knees for her. Your lips kiss along the side of her length, teasing slowly with your tongue licking up it. Natasha groans with pleasure at the feeling and her hips instinctively buck towards you.

You give in, not wanting to tease her anymore tonight, and take her cock into your mouth. The moan that leaves her mouth is outright sinful, and her fist hits the door with a thud as you begin to bob your head. Your cheeks hollow out when you begin moving faster, taking as much of her as you could. When the tip hits the back of your throat your eyes sting, tears threatening to leave your ducts. Natasha pants heavily above you, savoring the moment of you on your knees for her, sucking her off.

"Look at you, such a pretty girl with my cock in your mouth- fuck," Natasha speaks low to you, her eyes dark as she watches her cock disappear against your lips. Your fingers on her thigh dig in, your nails digging into her skin to leave crescent shaped marks, at her words. "All night you've been teasing me... this is the only way to shut you up, isn't it?" She says and you moan against her, the vibrations sending her close to the edge.

Her breathing gets heavier and you can tell she's about to cum, but before she can you quickly remove your mouth, your saliva coating her as you release with a pop. You stand, not ignoring the frustrated look on her face.

"Baby, I think you're confused," you say, your hands moving to the top of your dress. "You're not in charge right now," You let out a small laugh and pull down on the fabric, letting your breasts spill out. Natashas face reddens in response, and she immediately moves to kiss your chest. You can feel the marks she leaves as her lips trail across your breasts, her skillful tongue pleasuring your sensitive nipples.

Natashas' large hands move to the bottom of your dress as her kisses begin to litter up your neck. You let her move the material above and over your hips, but stop her as she reaches your panties. "I wanna hear you," you mumble out. She lets out a huff and pulls away from your neck.

"Y/n... please." Natasha says. You only continue to look at her with innocent eyes. The fact that she would beg for you - is begging for you, made you feel instant gratification.

"Please, pretty girl? Please let me make you feel good. I want to fuck you, want to make you feel good so bad..." She begs, and you let her slide your panties down your legs. Natasha slides her tip between your closed thighs, her cock now being coated from the wetness that spread between your legs.

She slips in between your folds, waiting for your words. Her fingers dig into your hips. "You drive me so fucking insane," Natasha whispers as her head ducks to your neck again. "I could cum from just looking at you. Just hearing you say my name. You know how much control you have over me?" Her hips continue rocking against you, your thighs squeezing her hard cock. She begins to pant again, her neck red and hot to the touch as you wrap your arms around it, interlocking your fingers behind her head.

"Please," Natasha whimpers, and the sound is enough to make you moan. You needed to feel her inside you immediately, hear more of those moans leave her lips.

"Show me how bad you want me, how insane I make you feel," you finally say and lean forward to bite her lower lip. She wastes no time lifting you up, helping you wrap your legs around her hips. Your back presses against the door again and with one hand she guides her cock inside of your warm velvet walls, easily ,with how wet you were for her.

Natasha begins to thrust up into you, a feeling you had become accustomed to these past few weeks, although you weren't sure you'd ever get used to her size. She groans against your chest, nipping at the skin. The small bathroom fills with the sounds of her pounding into you, both of you moaning practically in sync with every thrust.

"So good, pretty girl, feel so good wrapped around my cock. I love fucking this pretty pussy," she breathes heavy against your skin as she speaks. You hold on tightly to her, only breathless moans escape your lips in response.

Suddenly, from the outside, someone bangs on the door, Natasha doesn't halt her descent on you. "Can you hurry the fuck up in there?" A stranger yells from the other side. Your eyes widen, a little bit of adrenaline rushing into your chest as she continues fucking into you.

Natasha smiles, now at your flustered state. "Occupied," is all she replies before her thrust picks up the pace. "You better keep quiet, sweetheart. You don't want everyone to know how much of a slut you are for me, letting me fuck you in the bathroom."

You squeeze your eyes closed as she fucks herself into you, trying your best to keep quiet. Each thrust was now hitting that special spot inside of you and drawing you closer to an orgasm. The feeling of her muscles flexing around you only intensified that feeling.

"Fuck I-I can't I'm-" Natasha stutters out as she groans into your neck, feeling your hot cunt tighten around her cock.

"Me too, Nat," you moan along with her, and your legs squeeze around her waist. "Let go, baby... wanna feel you fill me up." You watch her face twist in pleasure at your words, and the fact that it was enough to make her cum only added to your ego in the moment. Natasha grunts against your skin as she does just what you say, filling you up completely.

The sensation alone is enough to make you follow right behind her, the burn in your lower stomach blazing as you scream out her name.

"That's it, sweetheart, that's it... such a good girl for me," she coos as you fall apart in her arms, kissing your face as you breathe heavily. Your head falls against her shoulder, face panting in the crook of her neck as she holds you tightly, letting you come down off your high.

After a few moments she pulls out slowly, and you can feel the mixture of both your arousal dripping down your thighs. Natasha carries you to the sink, letting you rest on the hard surface while she pulls her pants back up and you fix the top of your dress.

"Hi," she says with a smile. You giggle, remembering she said the same thing afterward on the first night at her party.

"Hi," is all you reply, grabbing her shirt in your hand and pulling her closer to kiss you again.

****

"They have eight legs and eight eyes. How are they not scary?" Peter drunkenly speaks to Monica, who sits next to him with an amused look.

After your time in the bathroom with Natasha, the two of you had rejoined the group, and over the course of two hours, you had become increasingly wasted with the rest of your friends. As Yelena joined in on the topic of spiders, you feel Natasha rest her head back against your front.

She sat slouched back in one of the chairs that scattered near the table while you stood behind her, hands stroking her neck and massaging her shoulders. You can't help but smile down at her.

"You're so cute," you giggle and watch her brow raise. Your finger traces the dark lines on her neck.

"Anything but cute," Natasha groans, with a playful smirk on her face. "Why do you say that?"

"You're different than you look, you know? Why are you so nervous around me?" Your words slur, and she chuckles at your drunken state with a shrug, looking at the beer bottle she held in her hand.

"Must be the alcohol?" She says. You shake your head and poke her nose.

"You were drinking when I first met you, and you weren't like this," you point out and watch her swallow. You decide to move in front of her, settling yourself between her muscled thighs. As you stand in front of her, she sits up straighter, the two of you now practically the same height.

You take her hand in yours, playing with her fingers. She smiles a little as she looks at your intertwined hands.

"Maybe I was drinking that night to get enough courage to talk to you... and maybe I- maybe I'm drinking tonight to get enough courage to say I want more with you. More than... the hookups," she says and finally looks back up at you. Your heart races in your chest at her words, panic written on your face as you freeze in front of her.

That was exactly what you wanted. More of her, more of this beautiful person who was even more beautiful inside. To get to know what makes her really tick, what makes her happy, how her day was, how she likes her coffee. She wanted more, too, so why were you not speaking out loud?

"What?" Is all that comes out of your mouth.

Natashas face falls completely, misinterpreting your flustered state for a sign of rejection. She had hoped this wouldn't happen. Part of her wondered if this had just been a hook up, but the other part of her desperately hoped it wasn't.

Before the words could leave your parted lips, Kate calls over to you, taking the attention of both you and Natasha.

"Y/N, you ready to go? You can stay if you want, I'm gonna take Pete home, though," she nods to the direction of where he sat drunk rambling to Yelena.

"No, not -"

"Actually, Yelena and I have a lot to do tomorrow. We should head out too," Natasha interrupts you and stands, her hand moving to your lower back as you stare up at her with a pout.

"Are you sure?" You ask her, your hand reaching out to her side. She tenses under your grasp.

"Yeah, I'll text you later," She smiles at you, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes this time.

You nod anyways and smile back, leaning up to kiss her lips softly. "Thank you for tonight.. Hopefully, we can do it again soon?"

And while you were talking about hanging out with her, Natasha assumes you were talking about her fucking you.

"Yeah, soon," she lets out a breath and grabs her jacket, not taking a second look back at you as her and Yelena exit the bar.

***

A smile fills your face as your head hits the pillow, the soft comforter pulled over you as you lie on your warm bed and mull over tonights events. You wondered why Natasha had left in such a hurry before you could say anything, but you decided not to think too hard on it. She probably did have to go. It was early in the morning by the time you left, and besides, you would hear from her later.

Every morning, she texted you a quick and sweet text, telling you to have a good day.

Your chest swelled at the thought of it, how sweet it was that such a small, simple thing could brighten your entire day. What you assumed would happen tomorrow is that the two of you would talk about wanting more and how desperately you agreed with her about it.

But when the late morning came and the sunshine streamed through the windows, no text came with it.

#natasha romanoff #natasha x fem!reader #natasha x reader #natasha x you #natasha romanoff x reader #gp!Natasha x reader #marvel #marvel one shot #part 2

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nereidprinc3ss · 2 months

Text

light of the morning

in which spencer sneaks into bau!reader's hotel room and they share a little more than just the bed

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: softdom!spence x sub reader, munch!spence, unprotected piv sex (dont do that), creampie (hate that word btw) praise, mentions of having to be quiet because morgan is right next door LOL, fluffy, established co-workers/friends with benefits, soooo idiots in love a/n: here is the promised smut. i am literally kicking my feet and twirling my hair and giggling and blushing at my own writing. I'm gonna have a freak out. requests are open like my legs

It’s late when the knock finally comes. Late enough that you’re dozing on the bed above the covers.

It takes you a moment to reorient yourself—you’re rubbing your heavy eyes when you finally get the door.

"Hi."

"Hey," says Spencer, hands awkwardly shoved into his pajama pants pockets. It’s funny, really. He never gets any better at this.

You step aside and he enters the room, looking around as you close and relock the door.

"Did I wake you?"

"How could you tell?"

"You’re in pajamas. And you look tired. I mean—you don’t look bad. You never look bad, I just meant… you don’t look tired but you’re not—I didn’t mean to—"

"Relax," you yawn, putting him out of his misery. "I was joking. I know I look tired." You glance at the digital clock on the nightstand. "It’s late. We have to be up early tomorrow."

"Yeah, I got, uh, sidetracked. Sorry."

He was reading. If it was anyone else, you'd be offended--but a sinkhole could open up under Spencer's feet and he probably wouldn't notice if he was absorbed in a book.

You shrug, a knowing smile lifting the corner of your mouth.

"It’s fine. But I don’t know if tonight is a good night. I really am exhausted."

His eyebrows dart up.

"That’s fine. That’s totally fine. I’ll just, uh—"

When you don’t move from in front of the door, he pauses, unsure. You bite the inside of your cheek, studying his rangy frame and choice of clothing. Blue pajama pants, slippers, grey CalTech zip up hoodie. It feels wrong to describe a 6'1 man as adorable, but that’s how he looks in his sleep clothes. There’s a very real chance, you find yourself thinking, that you are the only member of the BAU to ever see him in something other than slacks and a button-down. He looks so cozy that you kind of really want him in your bed even if he’s not doing anything but sleeping. The invitation slips out before you can think too hard about it.

"You could… stay, anyway, if you want?"

His mouth parts slightly, and those eyebrows raise again. There’s a moment of awkward silence and you are very much beginning to regret your offer, wondering if you somehow violated the sanctity of your co-workers/friends with benefits situtationship. Clumsily you try to backtrack.

"Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, you can—"

"No, no! You didn’t, I just don’t want you to feel obligated to invite me to stay in your room. I’m right across the hall, I can go back if you want me to."

You smile awkwardly, silent relief replacing the brief anxiety.

"It’s fine. It’s not like we haven’t shared a bed before." And not like you wouldn’t have ended up doing it tonight anyway, if things had gone as originally intended.

He chuckles, looking to the floor and nodding. The blush on his face does not go unnoticed by you. "Fair enough."

It’s incredibly endearing how nervous he still gets after six months of this little arrangement.

"Do you wanna get your stuff, or…"

"No, that’s okay. I’ll just go back early tomorrow. The chances of someone seeing me leave your room are significantly higher if I do it so soon after entering."

You squint, unable to tell if he’s fucking with you or if that’s an actual statistically sound probability. And then you realize, blissfully, that you don’t really care.

"Okay, well. Make yourself comfortable. I’m just going to brush my teeth."

Once you’re enclosed in the bathroom, hotel vanity lights blinding you as you brush, you find that there is a jittery sort of apprehension buzzing in your chest. But that’s silly. As you yourself pointed out, the two of you have shared a bed many times over the past few months. But the sleeping together is always a byproduct of the sleeping together. Never have you shared a bed in a completely decent, virtuous, strictly non-sexual manner. It’s always been a matter of convenience—less bother if he doesn’t have to worry about sneaking back into his room in the middle of the night when you’re both exhausted. Or maybe that’s just what you’ve been telling yourselves.

You rinse your mouth out and exit the bathroom, flicking off the light and finding that Spencer has indeed made himself comfortable. The hotel room is dark and he’s already under the covers, fiddling with his phone.

"What time should I set the alarm for?" He asks, looking over at you as you crawl into bed, drawing the covers over yourself. "I was thinking 6:23. That should give me enough time to—"

"Sounds perfect," you affirm, wiggling under the blanket as you get comfortable. He schedules the alarm and sets his phone on the bedside table, dousing the room in complete darkness. Your eyes stay open despite, waiting for them to adjust. A few moments of utter silence and stillness pass, and you can tell Spencer is completely stiff next to you.

"Spencer."

“Yeah,” he answers immediately. Like he’s even more wired about this whole situation than you are.

"You know you don’t have to avoid touching me at all costs, right? I’m not a leper."

He looses a nervous laugh.

"I know. We’ve just never really done this."

You frown at the darkness.

"We’ve definitely slept in the same bed before."

"Yeah, but… this feels different."

That, you can’t argue with. Can friends with benefits share a bed just to be near each other? Does that blur some line? And why does it feel more intimate than the sex?

Screw it. If there is one thing you don’t want your relationship with Spencer to be, it is uncomfortable. Uncertain, you can work with. But not uncomfortable. You reach for him, hand sliding under the duvet—and find his hand already waiting for yours.

"I don’t think it’s that different," you lie, interlacing your fingers together slowly.

"Prolonged physical non-sexual contact does have measurable health benefits…" the words are murmured, like the moment is fragile and he doesn’t want to shatter it.

"Can’t argue with the facts," you breathe, trying to modulate the shakiness of your voice. But you have a feeling you’re doing about as good of a job at concealing your nerves as he is. He shifts.

"Can I…"

"Yeah."

Your heart is pounding as he slips one arm under your neck and the other around your waist, pulling you close. Instinctually you curl into him, slinging your top leg over him as you’ve done before, but always dismissed as post-sex brain chemicals making you feel all warm and fuzzy. A neurological reaction that is so solidly scientific, neither of you ever questioned it. But it feels bigger now.

He exhales as you settle against each other—a sound of relief that mirrors your own. He’s so warm, so safe as he envelops you, physically and sensorially. In such close proximity, so clear-headed, you notice each layer of his scent. Toothpaste, lavender, vetiver, detergent. You sort of feel like a creep, but you can’t deny how comforting it is. Nor can you deny the pirouette your heart does when he begins minutely rubbing your back, like he’s not even thinking about it.

"Goodnight," you whisper into his shirt.

"Goodnight," he whispers back.

You fall asleep pretty quickly after that.

------------------------------

It’s unclear what wakes you up—maybe it’s the blue-grey dawn light filtering in through the filthy window (doubtful, it’s still mostly dark) or maybe it’s the blinking green digital clock on the nightstand. 5:02 AM. Your alarm will go off in an hour and 21 minutes.

Sometime in the night you shifted, turning over in your sleep, but Spencer is still holding you close. The arm slung so casually over your waist is slightly domineering, but you manage to rotate again and face him once more. Mere inches away from his face you can see every detail. His expression is so peaceful, it makes your heart ache.

But you’re just friends.

Perhaps he felt you moving, because his eyes flutter open and you watch as they flood with consciousness. He takes you in, takes in his arm over your waist. For a split second you’re nervous he’ll pull away.

"What time is it?" His voice is scratchy with sleep.

"Five."

"Why are you awake? We have over an hour til the alarm goes off."

"Sometimes waking up early is okay."

His eyes flicker between your own, and momentarily you’re paralyzed as you realize this is a limbo state for the two of you in which you’ve never operated. You don’t know what’s acceptable. You don’t know what to do. Being close to him feels so good, that the idea of separating hurts. But you don’t want to make him uncomfortable, or—

He leans forward and kisses you softly. In the blue light of dawn, rather than frenzied and hidden in the dark, a desperate tear of clothes and teeth and hands—it’s almost freeing. All the anxiety you were feeling just seconds ago begins to melt.

Friends.

"You looked anxious," is his whispered answer after he pulls away a moment later, like a kiss is the simplest remedy in the world. He brushes a lock of hair behind your ear. "We should go back to sleep."

"I don’t want to go back to sleep."

The corner of his mouth twitches as he studies you.

"No? What do you want?"

Emboldened by your mutual indiscretion, it’s your turn to kiss him. You feel him smile against your lips, hand finding the back of your neck and raking up through your hair to pull you closer.

The delirium of sleep seems to have softened you, filed down the rough edges of your boundaries and kicked away the lines in the sand. What’s a kiss or two when you’ve just woken up? A small, innocuous display of affection while you’re still barely conscious. Nobody could fault either of you for that. People don’t think clearly when they’ve just been asleep.

So what if your lips part against his, and his other hand finds its way under your shirt to stroke the bare skin of your waist and hips? So what if you hitch that leg over him again and press closer?

Spencer breaks the kiss, still ghosting over your lips.

"I thought it wasn’t a good night?"

"It’s not night time anymore, is it, genius?"

You sneak another kiss, nipping his bottom lip gently as you pull away.

Instead of whatever array of responses you were expecting, Spencer smiles slightly, eyes almost sparkling in the faint light. The hand on your hip moves to your face, gently thumbing across your cheek. He begins to say something, and stops himself—biting his lip to hold back the words.

"What?" you ask, heart dropping. Illusion fracturing.

"I was just—" he begins, pausing for a moment before the words all come out in a rush. "I was just going to tell you how beautiful you are, but I don’t know if that’s something I should say, or if it would feel too… I don’t know…"

He trails off. A rare instance in which he doesn’t have the words.

You do. Intimate. Real. Romantic. And he’s right, it does feel too much like all of those things. But that doesn’t mean you don’t like it, perhaps more than is strictly good for you.

"It’s fine. Thank you."

He continues chewing on his lip for a moment.

"Did I just ruin the mood?"

"No," you laugh, "not at all."

"Thank god," he sighs, surging forward again.

"Since when do you thank god?" You manage between kisses.

He moves to press his lips to your jaw and down your neck.

"Do you want me to talk about the historical and cultural transition of religious expressions into ubiquitous secular colloquialisms right now?"

"Kind of," you breathe.

"No you don’t," he murmurs against your neck as his hands find the hem of your shirt. "You want me to take your clothes off."

Well, he’s not wrong there.

You help him tug the shirt over your head before leaning back into the pillows as he situates himself over you and lavishes more kisses down your neck and collarbones, pausing to suck a mark only when he knows it’s low enough to be covered by your clothing later.

You gasp when his lips brush over your nipple, before running his tongue over the sensitive skin. He glances up at you, and though his mouth is occupied, you can see the humor in his eyes. He loves how sensitive you are—how easy it is to get a reaction out of you.

Of course, you continue to prove him right when he takes the other into his mouth, trying to hold back your little whimpers as he darts his tongue over the peak. Maybe somebody else wouldn’t hear them, but Spencer does. He’s hyper attuned to the sounds you make. Something of a catalogue has begun to form in the back of his mind; he knows exactly what each noise means and how to get them out of you.

Once satisfied, he moves to press a kiss to your sternum.

"You’re gonna be quiet for me, right?" Another kiss above your bellybutton. "Because Morgan is sleeping right on the other side of that wall, and we don’t want to wake him up."

"I’ll be quiet," you promise, somewhat breathlessly. Spencer’s mouth trails lower until he’s pulling your shorts down your legs, leaving you completely naked. He tosses them somewhere on the floor and hooks your legs over his shoulders.

"Good." He plants one last kiss to your thigh and the next one lands right between your legs.

You regret the need to be silent almost as soon as he drags his tongue over your clit. It’s not like the two of you have ever had the privilege of making a lot of noise, as the hotel rooms are always so close to each other, but it doesn’t make it any easier.

Instead you opt to rake your hands through his hair and try to take deep breaths. But he knows exactly what you like—he knows starting light and slow, teasing around your most sensitive spot will work you up to the brink of insanity, just like he knows gentle circles make your back arch and elicit the prettiest little moans.

"More," you beg, and the hands wrapped around your thighs rub soothingly, reassuring you that if you can just be patient you’ll get what you want.

He takes your aching clit into his mouth, sucking lightly and you’re forced to clap a hand over your mouth, muffling the sob of pleasure you can’t hold back. Spencer keeps it up until you’re practically riding his face, teasing your dripping entrance with the tip of his tongue when you get too close.

"Fuck, please, Spence," you whisper through your fingers, hips rutting in your desperation. Somehow it always ends up like this—with him in charge and you begging. Not that you have a problem with it, of course.

He hums into you, and if the way his tongue moves back to circling your clit with newfound fervor is any indication, is apparently satisfied with your entreaty.

You gasp and try to control your breathy moans, but his mouth feels so good on you that your vision is going out and you’re losing touch with reality ever so slightly. You use the last of your brain power to bite down on the back of your wrist, hoping it adequately muffles the noises you make as you come on Spencer’s tongue and he greedily continues lapping at you. There’s really no way of knowing—your ears are ringing anyway.

When you come to a moment later he’s peppering kisses on your thighs, rubbing your hips gently.

"So pretty," he murmurs, climbing back up so your lips can meet again. "Everything about you is pretty."

You paw at his shirt, signaling that you want it off as you moan at the taste of yourself on his tongue, feel your slippery arousal staining the kiss. Spencer helps you, sitting up briefly to unzip his hoodie and pull off his shirt.

You’re the one to drag him back down, and you notice that he pulls the covers back over the both of you in a sweet gesture he probably didn’t even think about.

"Need you to fuck me," you beg, reaching down to try and undress him further.

"So crude. What happened to my nice, sweet girl?" He mumbles against your neck, but helps you with his pants anyway.

"You must have me confused with someone else."

"Doubtful."

You don’t have much time to consider what that could mean before he’s running the head of his cock over your clit and you’re gasping into his mouth, saying please like it’s the only word you know.

"There she is," Spencer croons, slipping inside you slow enough for you to feel every inch but quick enough for it to expel all the air from your lungs. Once he’s opened you all the way up, impossibly deep and close, you’re seeing stars, barely breathing. His head has dropped to your shoulder but now he drags his lips up your neck and jaw. "We okay?"

It’s been a while, you realize, since that last case in Maine. He always takes some getting used to. Hardly able to think around the pressure of his cock you nod, trying to string together a few words.

"Fuck, I need a second." The words come out choked, but you manage. Spencer rubs your hip, his lips brushing yours as he speaks.

"Relax, sweetheart. I don’t want to hurt you."

He curses to himself, dropping his head momentarily. You’re so fucking soft, and warm, and perfect, he can’t think straight. But he has to try because he has to take care of you.

"Spence," you gasp, failing to verbally communicate the intensity of the physical sensation.

"I know, baby," comes his sympathetic coo. "You know you can take me. Deep breaths."

"Mhm," you squeak, trying to take follow his directions and soften your muscles. Spencer keeps rubbing soothingly over your hips, stomach, whatever he can get his hands on, really, pressing kisses all over your face and telling you how good you are, how perfect you feel for him. After a few moments he feels you fluttering around him and experimentally pulls out halfway, before pushing back in equally as slowly. Your jaw drops as he begins to leisurely fuck you, arms wrapping around his back. He gets deeper than you expect every time, rubbing you raw and stretching you out in the most delicious way.

"Perfect, baby. Such a good listener, did exactly what I asked."

You cry out when he begins fucking you impossibly deeper, but still so slow and sweet.

"You feel so fucking good for me," he groans. "This is what you were made for, huh?" You agree enthusiastically, eyes fluttering shut.

"Only for you."

Just three words—but he wasn’t expecting to like hearing you say that as much as he does. A strong desire to possess you overtakes him—one that he’ll probably have the decency to feel guilty about later, but for now feels fucking fantastic and intoxicating.

"Only me?"

You moan an affirmation.

"Good. I don’t want anyone else fucking you, do you understand me?"

"Yes!"

"I’m the only one who gets to touch you," he breathes, speeding up ever so slightly, "nobody else is going to feel you like this. Such a good girl, spreading her legs for me at five in the fucking morning. You’re not doing this for anybody else, baby."

"Uh-uh, please, pleasepleaseplease Spence—"

He knows what you need, reaching a hand down between your bodies to rub your clit.

You gasp an airy, high pitched curse, hips twitching but unable to escape the near-punishing rhythm of his own. It’s obvious that your orgasm is close, but you can’t even warn him, too overwhelmed with pleasure. He kisses you, swallowing your moans that have probably become just a bit too loud given the whole hotel thing.

No words are exchanged between the two of you as you near the finish line for a change, open mouths slipping against each others in what is too messy to be called a kiss. Your orgasm body-slams you, a choked silent scream as you tighten around Spencer and he seems to come at nearly the exact same moment—deep inside you, slowly rolling his hips in a few more strong thrusts as he finishes.

You let out a delayed moan at the sensation of being filled up, still pulsing around him as he comes to a halt, buried inside of you. He drops his head to your neck, and you can feel each breath against your flushed skin. Other than the panting, you’re both silent for a while. Spencer seems to gather himself sooner than you do, finally breaking the quiet.

"You okay?"

All you can manage is a little squeak, at which he looses a breathy chuckle. His hand slides to your hip, gently stroking the skin with a thumb.

"Need your words, angel girl."

"I’m okay," you coo into his shoulder, but he has to strain to hear it above his own breathing.

"Yeah? Why so quiet?"

But it seems that at least for the moment, he’s gotten all the words he can out of you. When he tries to move, you whimper indignantly, clutching onto him tighter.

"I really did a number on you this time, huh?" He laughs when you nod into him. "Are you falling asleep?"

"Mhm," you hum dreamily, little puffs of warm air slowing against his neck.

"You can have…" he cranes his head to check the digital clock, "48 minutes."

"An hour."

He settles his weight on you once more, pressing a chaste kiss to your throat. His voice is low and gentle as he admonishes you.

"I said 48 minutes."

But it doesn’t matter—you’re already asleep, or close enough to it. Spencer takes the opportunity to shift you to your side, and the way you wrap around him like a vine even unconsciously makes his heart ache. He really should go now—the earlier he gets out of your room the less likely certain complications will arise—but how can he possibly leave you like this? A vulnerable, dreamy girl with tangled hair haloing around her on the pillow case, clinging to him with blind trust that he’ll watch over her as she sleeps? No—there’s no way he’s leaving yet. Instead, he brings you closer. 48 perfect minutes will go by far too quickly, he’s sure.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid smut #criminal minds smut

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syddsatyrn · 2 months

Note

Omg your requests are open. I've seen some of your work and it's amazing❤️

Can you do a smut with Lucifer. He's become my new obsession.

⛧Idle Time is the Devil's Play⛧ By Sydd Satyrn

⛧Pairing: - Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

⛧Warnings: Shameless smut, fingering, swearing, fluff

⛧Words: 2.5k

⛧Notes: This was actually rather fun to write, thank you for the request! My head canon in this one is that Lucifer wears reading glasses.

The day started out on the wrong foot from the second you woke up. The dishes are piled up, laundry needs to be done, and how is there so much dust in here?! Nifty does her best to keep up but she's only one tiny person. You begin with the dishes, stack and stacks of plates and bowls, cups and flatware cover the counter. You let out a sigh of disappointment. After working for a short while, Angel Dust walks in with a surprised look on his face. “I thought you were dating the King of Hell, why are you wasting your time with chores?” The tall spider asks, holding a stack of dishes from his room. “Angel, I work here. I don't know how many times I have to tell you…” You reply with an eye roll. “Yeah, yeah, Charlie’s dreams, blah, blah, motherly nonsense. I’m just sayin’ you could totally slack off and get away with it.” He says, placing more dishes on the counter. You give him a side eye, and Angel laughs. “Chill out toots, I’m just playin’.” He says and heads back to his room. He’s right, you could slack off if you wanted to, but you felt the need to try for Charlie. You and Lucifer have been dating for a little over 6 months and within that time you’ve become rather fond of his sweet daughter and her dreams to rehabilitate sinners. So you took on a role at the hotel and did what you could to help make it possible. You wanted to impress Lucifer's daughter, maybe one day she might even see you as family, if you’re lucky. You finally finish the dishes and take a step back and admire your handiwork. A clean sink, and counters, all the dirty dishes are now washed, dried and put away. It took a good chunk of the morning but it was worth it. The kitchen looks spotless and you decide to move onto the next chore. You tidied a few empty rooms and then delivered clean towels to each room with an occupant. You’re already running out of energy and it's only noon. “You look like you could use some coffee.” Husk says from behind the bar while wiping down the countertops. “You read my mind, Husker.” You say and take a seat at the bar. He pours you a cup of black coffee and sets it in front of you. “Thank you, you have no idea how much I need this.” “Don’t mention it” He says and returns to his countertops. Husk may seem grumpy all the time but you’ve come to know him as a rather genuine and helpful person.

You drink your coffee slowly and contemplate what you should do next. There are so many chores that need to be done, where should you even start? Nifty should be cleaning the bathrooms or taking out the trash by now. You decide to start dusting next, it shouldn't be too hard.

After dusting the common areas, you begin on the hallways. You start at the top floor and work your way down. You hum quietly to yourself while wiping the window sills. As you turn a corner, you run into Angel Dust, and spill dusting spray all over his jacket. “Shit!” He says while wiping his jacked off with his hand, Angel looks frantic and upset, you’ve never seen him so scared. “I’m so sorry! Are you okay?!” You immediately apologize. “Y/N, I can't find Fat Nuggets anywhere! I took my eyes off of him for one second and he disappeared! My poor baby!” Angel says, clearly in a state. He looks like he might even cry. It’s gonna be okay, we just…need to split up! I’ll head downstairs and you stay up here.”You say, trying to remain calm. Angel nods, and you both go your separate ways.

You search all the rooms on the first and second floor, the lobby, the bar, and even the basement. There is no sign of the little pig. You were sure you would find him rooting around somewhere in the kitchen but still, no Fat Nuggets. You notice the back door is slightly ajar, you definitely didn’t use that door when you were down here earlier. You open it, expecting to have solved the mystery, but still nothing. You lean against the wall and let out a defeated sigh. “Dammit, Fat Nuggets, where are you?” You say out loud. Suddenly there is a rustlin noise inside a tipped over trash can. You lift the lid and inside is a very happy looking little pig. You scoop him up and give him a big hug, he must have gottens stuck out there looking for a snack. As you carry Fat Nuggets upstairs you hear a shriek of joy coming from Angel Dust. “My baby!” He cries as you hand him over. “Don't you ever leave my side again!” He says, baby talking to the little pig while giving him a snuggle. “I owe you one, Y/N.” Angel says with a smile. “Dont worry about it, I’m just happy we found the little guy.” You gently boop the little pig’s nose. —------------ As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting hues of pink and orange across the sky, a sense of tranquility settled over the hotel. The warm glow of the fading sunlight painted the walls in soft, golden hues made the place feel somewhat serene. Finding Fat Nuggets took up the rest of your afternoon and you were feeling unusually exhausted.

You head down to the lobby and see Nifty cleaning up the last of the dusting you did earlier.

She greets you as usual. “Good Evening, Miss Y/N! How was your day?” She pauses her cleaning and stares up at you with her single cyclops eye. “I am so worn out, Nifty. How are you?” You return, smiling down at her tiny figure.

“I’m okay. There aren't as many bugs in the hotel to squish anymore so I’m getting pretty bored.” You smile at her, Not entirely sure how to respond to that statement. She always says the wildest stuff, but you’re used to it. Alastor says she's always been pretty quirky. “You should go spend time with your boyfriend.” Nifty teases,”I’ll deal with the rest of the chores.” “Thank you, I could really use a break. Today was a mess.” You say with a sigh of relief. After walking down the long, lavish hallway to Lucifer's room. You open the door slowly, you don't want to wake him if he is asleep. The King is already in bed wearing nothing but a robe and his reading glasses. The lamp next on the bedside table is the only source of light in the room. The blonde haired man is reading a book and glances over at you when he hears you come in. “I was wondering when you’d be here.” He says with a smile on his face. He closes his book and sets it on the nightstand along with his gold rimmed glasses. “Sorry I’m late, I’ve had a really long day.” You admit as you sit on the edge of the bed. “Oh? What did you get up to today?” He asks and crawls toward you. “There was a lot to do around the hotel today, a mountain of dishes and so much cleaning. Like seriously, where does all this dust come from?! Then Angel lost Fat Nuggets and he was outside…” You ramble on and Lucifer listens intently. “Fat Nuggets?” Lucifer chuckles and cocks his head to the side. “His pet pig.” You remind him. “Oh, I see…” Lucifer places his hand on your cheek. His warm touch sends shivers down your spine. He pulls your face closer and kisses your lips gently. Your heart flutters and you kiss him back, blushing slightly.

“Well, I’m glad you’re here now.” Lucifer laughs, knowing exactly what he's doing to you. “Sounds like you need some time off. I notice you do a lot around here, you shouldn’t wear yourself out like that.” “I just want to show Charlie that I support her dream and believe in her.” Your words make Lucifer’s heart swell, the fact that you are trying so hard to impress his daughter is quite possibly the cutest thing he’s ever seen. He smiles at you, his expression full of love and admiration. You return his smile, your face bright red. He pulls you in for a tight hug, burying his face into your hair. “You’re doing just fine, my love. You can let up a little.” He whispers in your ear, “You should let me take care of you for a couple days.” Lucifer's voice is sticky sweet, you can see why Eve was so easily swayed. You melt into his arms and he kisses the top of your head. “I know exactly what you need…” Lucifer days, his voice laced with a mischievous tone. “Do you…?” You ask and giggle at his bold statement. He reluctantly lets go of you and takes off to the bathroom connected to his room. You can hear him turn on the faucet to fill up the tub. Lucifer walks out of the bathroom a few minutes later, he grabs your hand and pulls you close, his eyes half lidded. He kisses your cheek and wraps his arm around your shoulder. “Come with me, my dear.” He leads you to the bathroom, the tub is filled about half way with warm water. The room is filling with steam and the lights are low, a few candles are lit. The ambiance is warm and charming just like he is. Your eyes widen and you feel Lucifer hands tug at your clothes, silently telling you to take them off. Your face feels hot as you start to remove your clothing, piece by piece. You leave them in a pile on the floor, trying your best to keep your composure. “I have to admit I wasn’t expecting this…” You say, Lucifer smirks, pleased with himself and your reactions. He removes his robe, revealing his perfect body. He steps into the tub and turns to you.

"Well, are you coming or not?" He teases, you take his hand and slowly get in the tub with him. He sits behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you just a bit closer. Together, you both leaned back against the edge of the tub, letting the warmth of the water soothe your weary muscles. The stress of the day melted away, you could feel your muscles relax, you lean the back of your head on his shoulder, breathing him in.

"See? Isn't this much better?" Lucifer purrs in your ear.

You nod and let your eyes close. You can feel him kiss your temple and you can't help but smile. “I definitely needed this…”You murmured, Lucifer's hands begin to roam your body, his hands trace down your arms.

"You have the most beautiful skin...I can't help but touch it." He whispers and kisses your neck, you sigh softly. "And you always smell like vanilla, I adore that..."

“You flatter me, Lucifer.” You reply. He kisses the back of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. His hands begin to massage your shoulders, "Are you cold?" He asks, noticing the goosebumps forming on your skin. With gentle hands, his fingertips traced delicate patterns along the contours of your skin. In the hushed ambiance, time seemed to slow, as if caught in the embrace of the moment. “No, I’m fine.” You assure him.” You’re just really good with your hands.” “Is that so?” Lucifer says with a playful tone. He can barely contain himself, the way your body responds to his touch is fascinating to him. Lucifer's hands travel lower down your torso and gently cup your breasts. You hum softly and push your body closer to his.

"My, you're a needy one tonight, aren't you?" He chuckles and runs his thumbs over your nipples. "I think I know exactly how to help you." His hands travel lower and lower until they reach your core. Your breath hitches and your face turns a bright shade of red and Lucifer notices. "Is that okay, my love?" He asks, making sure he's not overstepping his bounds.

"Y-yes, it's more than okay.”

Lucifer's fingers explore your folds, teasing and prodding. His movements are slow and deliberate, as if he's trying to memorize every inch of your body. You gasp as he enters a finger into you. You moan softly and your back slightly arches. "That's it, my love, just let go, let me take care of you." The King’s tone is lustful and alluring. Lucifer adds a second finger and starts thrusting in and out, his thumb rubs your clit. He moves his fingers faster and harder. “Luci…fuck…” You swear followed by another moan, the pleasure is overwhelming. You can feel him smile against your skin, his hand working wonders between your thighs. You bite your lip and whimper, gripping the edge of the tub. Lucifer bites the tip of your ear and quickens his pace. “That’s it my dear, are you gonna cum for me?” Lucifer groans and pushes his fingers deeper inside you. You let out a whimper, a feeling of warmth growing deep within your core. Between the steam from the bathtub and all the stimulation you start to feel a little dizzy. Lucifer groans and buries his face into the crook of your neck. He focuses back on your clit, his middle finger massaging little circles, picking up speed with each second that passes. You can't stop the moans from escaping your mouth, the pleasure is too much. You can't hold back any longer and your body is rocked with wave after wave of pleasure. Lucifer's fingers move slower, helping you ride out the waves of your orgasm. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, your face is bright red. Lucifer pulls his fingers out and wraps his arms around you, hugging you tight.

"Are you alright?" He asks, kissing your neck. You nod and completely relax into Lucifer's body. You lay in the bathtub together, his fingers caress your arm, he presses another kiss to your temple.

"I think it's time you got some rest." He says, barely above a whisper. You both get out of the tub and Lucifer wraps a towel around you.

"You're absolutely perfect." He says with a grin and kisses your nose. You smile at him, continue to dry off and wrap your hair in a towel. Lucifer loans you a pair of his silk pajamas, they are just slightly too big for you. But all that does is add to how comfortable they are. You lay in bed next to him, the covers pulled over your shoulders. He pulls you close and runs his fingers through your hair.

"So, tomorrow you will do no chores, no errands, just relax and take it easy.” He says, with a slightly demanding tone. You lay your head down on his bare chest and he picks up his book. “Yes sir…no chores…” You murmured against his skin. “He chuckles, "Good girl. That's what I like to hear.” He praises while putting his glasses back on. You're exhausted from the day and can barely keep your eyes open. Before long, you fall asleep in the arms of your love, ready for a trouble free day tomorrow.

#hazbin hotel #lucifer x y/n #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer fanfiction #lucifer smut #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #hazbin lucifer #lucifer #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel fanfiction #syddanswersasks

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freedomfireflies · 3 months

Text

Insatiable You*

Summary: The second part to Infinite You*

The one where Harry wants to know more about these smutty books you read. And maybe have a bit of fun, too.

Word Count: 5.8k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, spanking, spitting, Sir Kink

“Begin.”

“Harry—”

“Begin,” he repeats. Stern. Final. “I’m not gonna ask you again, Kitten. This is what we agreed on, yeah? Said you would. So go.”

Your hands shake as you hold the book against your chest. You nod quickly, eager to please him, and you feel relieved when he smiles.

You open the novel and flip to the bookmarked page. You can feel him watching you from his place between your legs and you attempt to cover your face with the pages before he’s quickly—and easily—pushing the book back down.

He gives you a certain look that makes you swallow, and you nod again.

“Sorry,” you whisper.

“S’okay,” he says. He’s trying not to smile. “But I wanna see you. You know that.”

You swallow for a second time and flick your attention back to the page. “So…just…anywhere?”

He hums. “Anywhere.”

You straighten up and clear your throat. “Damien was quiet as he entered Elizabeth’s bedroom. He could see her laid out in wait. Her familiar silhouette illuminated in the gentle light of the moon. He’d know her anywhere.”

You glance at Harry. He’s smirking. Intrigued. And you feel your cheeks warm as you look back to the story. Even if it’s not inherently smutty yet, you know it’s coming.

“He walked closer, careful not to disturb her peace as he made his way into her space. Pulling the soft blanket away from her hips to reveal the silk nightgown underneath.” You take a deep breath. You feel Harry squeeze your ankle. “He…he could see her glistening cunt beneath the sheer fabric. She’d been waiting for him. Working herself up in anticipation for his return. So it would be easier for him to take her once he arrived.”

As you read, you feel Harry’s fingers travel up the length of your leg and toward the large shirt resting around your hips. He pulls it back to reveal your glistening pussy. Equally as worked up as the one in the story.

You hesitate, embarrassed and enamored, before he nods once to reassure you. He’s far too amused to let you stop now. After all, this was your deal. You would read, he would reenact.

Your insides twist as you continue. “She stirred the moment his cold fingertips made contact with her warm skin. Still, he was gentle. He stroked and he pulled and he situated her where he wanted her. She was good. Quiet. Allowing herself to be moved without so much as a whimper.”

In turn, Harry’s large hands tighten around your hips. Tugging you away from the headboard and closer to his face. You gasp and clutch the book as though it’ll save you, but nothing can save you now.

“Go,” he murmurs and it’s anxious. He knows what’s coming and he knows he can’t begin until Damien does.

You continue. “Her body greeted him the way it always did. It was warm to the touch and seemed to call to him like a siren. Luring him closer until he had no choice but to take a taste.”

Harry scoots closer. Ready.

“His tongue flattened against her and he savored her need until he was short of breath. Licking and nipping at her until she awoke and cried out his name—”

However, you lose the rest the moment Harry’s tongue drags up your cunt and settles against your clit. And you decide that this is much better than reading alone because this is infinitely more vivid than the image in your head. Better than Damien, better than your own hand, better than a toy.

And Harry is beautiful. With his sharp, strong jaw that somehow looks sharper with the way he mouths at you. With his curls that are falling against his forehead and with the muscles that flex whenever he tightens his hold on your legs.

You drop the book onto your stomach and whimper, “Harry—”

He stops. Looks up.

“Sir,” you correct quickly. “Sir, please—”

“Keep reading,” he nearly grunts. He juts his chin toward the novel. “Go.”

Your fingers are trembling as you lift the book back up. He expects too much of you when his tongue is lapping at your body the way it is. “He did not waver. She was sensitive from whatever ministrations she had practiced before he arrived, but he carried on. He pulled…he pulled her clit between his teeth and gave her something to cry about.”

Harry follows suit and your eyes roll back. He’s perfect, considering he’s only done this once before. But he knows how to treat you, how to touch you, how to taste you. Better than anyone ever has. He’s insatiable and determined.

“He swallowed her down like a man dying of thirst,” you read through strained, shallow breaths. “She was his vixen. His wet, perfect little dream. Already pulling him closer by her warmth—shit—”

He smacks your thigh. Wrong. You keep reading.

“She pulled his hair and brought him closer. She lived within his lungs. He didn’t want the air she hadn’t touched. He wanted every drop that was wasted on the sheets below. The drops that belonged to him. Because her taste belonged to him. Always.”

Harry’s fingers curl around the backs of your thighs before he lifts them up. Creating more room and space for him to work. And he does. He takes and he groans and he licks a stripe from your ass to your clit. More intimate than you were expecting and you gasp before the book drops.

“No,” he seethes against your pussy. He licks harder, sucks faster. “Keep going.”

“Harry—”

“Go.”

You can hardly see the words through the haze in your eye. They’re melting off the page, blurring together. Still, you try. You obey. “Damien teased her with his finger. He knew she could take him, but he needed to hear her beg.”

In turn, the tip of Harry’s finger begins to smooth through the wet folds beneath his tongue. The sensation is overwhelming and you feel yourself clench at the very thought of him sliding inside. The anticipation almost dreadful.

But he doesn’t. Instead, his eyes find yours. “Beg me.”

Your breath catches. “Harry—”

He slaps your clit. Hard. “Beg me,” he repeats. “Fucking beg me, baby. Beg me to touch you. Beg me to stretch you. Beg me to fuck this cute little hole until you’re coming all down my hand.”

You clutch the paperback novel so hard, you feel it dent. “Harry—”

“Sir,” he corrects sharply. There’s something virile in his eye. A step past insatiable. Depraved. Like a wild animal with his prey.

And you aren’t afraid. You aren’t embarrassed or ashamed. Because you understand this hunger. It's the same hunger you felt after days of not being with him. Of knowing he was with Rebecca while you were alone with your pillow. Knowing he fell asleep in her arms instead of yours.

It's not just some itch you need scratched. It's him. His technique, his aurora, his presence. Mind, body, soul. Him. Nobody else will ever do it for you the way he can. Not even Damien.

“Beg me,” he repeats from below, ravenous attention locked on you. “Beg me, Kitten…and I’ll give it to you.”

You hold the book in one hand and his curls in the other. “Please,” you exhale. It’s airy and faint, but filled with a kind of desperation you know he understands. “Please, Sir. Please touch me. Please…it hurts.”

He hums and swipes his tongue over your clit. Teasingly. Temptingly. He thinks. “Does it?”

You nod quickly. “Anytime I’m not with you, it hurts. Please…nobody else can fix it.”

There’s a soft smile on his glistening lips. One you almost don’t catch through the tears in your lashes. “Nobody, hm?”

You shake your head.

“Have you been trying to find somebody else, Kitten?” He nips at you again. “Have you been going around, trying to give away what’s mine?”

Your eyes widen and your skin warms. You hate how much you love the possessive undertone. Even if he doesn’t mean it. “Never.”

He looks back up. “Do you promise?”

You swallow. You do promise, even though the truth is…you aren’t his. And you don’t imagine you ever will be. Still, you whisper, “I promise.”

And you mean it. More than anything.

Satisfied, the tip of his finger begins to push you open. Stretching the warm, quivering walls that are anxious to draw him in, effortlessly easing the ache in your stomach.

You let out a relieved sigh that makes him smirk and you adore his smugness. More than you should.

“Keep reading,” he repeats yet again while thrusting his finger in and out at a deviously slow pace.

The book shakes as it’s brought back up. “She…she pulled his hair and whispered his name. And he’d never heard something so beautiful. Her mouth was good for many things, but moaning his name was perhaps Damien’s favorite.”

Harry kisses everywhere he can. Your cunt, your thighs, your hip. Pulling at the skin and sucking it until it’s bright red and swollen before soothing it gently with his tongue.

“She was trembling beneath him,” you read. “She was sensitive and ready to give him her second orgasm. And he was ready to take it—”

“And are you ready, baby?” Harry says to you now. His grin is mischievous as he awaits your response. Because he knows you are. Knows that you were a good girl, that you did your homework and obeyed his instruction. That you touched yourself before he arrived, exactly like Elizabeth had.

You let out an unsteady breath and nod once. “Yes.”

“Good. Keep going."

You go back to your novel. “When she came, she was loud. Her naked body gleamed beneath her nightgown, covered in those dewy beads of sweat that made his mouth water. He wanted to run his tongue up and down every inch of her. To taste her, fully. To have her inside of him the way he was desperate to be inside her.”

Harry suddenly crawls up your body and begins to drag his tongue along your shaky stomach. A trail of saliva follows in the wake of his mouth and you can’t help but whimper as you watch him move toward your chest.

“Read,” he murmurs against your left tit, leaving you no choice but to oblige.

“When the light found her eyes, he saw what she really wanted,” you continue. “She pulled on him again and pleaded, ‘Damien, please. I can’t wait.’ So, he took himself from her swollen cunt and pressed his mouth to hers. He gave her a taste of herself and she swallowed it all, gladly—”

And before you can even ready yourself, Harry is taking your lips with his and sucking. Biting. Having. Feeding that hunger until you melt beneath him. Giving you the same taste Damien gave Elizabeth.

His tongue feels good against yours and the sensation is unfathomable. But not because of you...because of him.

He knows you can’t read very well like this, but he doesn’t mind. He draws back and holds your jaw in his palm until you open your mouth in acceptance. And then…he spits. Right down your throat, as though every drop belongs to you.

And you swallow it all. Gladly.

His kisses eventually move back down before he instructs you to finish the scene. And you struggle your way through it, despite how anxious you are to reach the end. “Her pussy welcomed him in and it felt like coming home. He held her throat in his hand and whispered, ‘Tell me, my love. Tell me what you did while I was away. Tell me exactly how you touched yourself as you waited.’”

You feel Harry nudge his nose underneath your chin before he says, “Go on, baby. Tell me.”

You close your eyes and allow the memory to find you. “I thought of you,” you tell him softly. Quietly. You’re embarrassed again and you don’t know why. “Thought of how you knew what I was doing while I did it.”

You feel him smile against your throat.

“Thought about what you told me to do,” you continue. “How…how you told me to take good care of your pussy until you got here.”

He hums and it seems to vibrate through the fingers still pumping inside your cunt. “And you did, didn’t you?”

You nod wordlessly.

“Tell me how.”

Another mesmerized inhale. “I was here,” you whisper. The noise he makes this time is greedier. “I was here and I…I remembered how you looked last time. I thought of you, and I…I tried to do what you would do.”

He grins a bit wider and it makes your chest swell. “Is that right, Kitten?”

“Mhm.” You clutch the book to keep from writhing. “And I moaned your name when I came. Knew I couldn’t come for anybody else. Didn’t want to.”

He nuzzles his face in your shoulder and groans. “God, you’re gonna fucking kill me, baby. You know that? My ego’s already too big.”

“Maybe,” you laugh breathlessly. “But it should be. You’re so good, Harry. Couldn’t wait to see you. Think I came just picturing you walking through my door.”

He leans back now and your heart drops. Perhaps that was a bit too honest. Too intimate. Especially considering that he’s still not yours to have.

He studies you a moment and you wait. Timidly. Preparing yourself for the disappointment that might follow his reply.

Then, he dips down, and nuzzles his nose against yours. “You’re too good to me,” he exhales. It sounds heavy. Scared. Sweet. “I don’t deserve you, Kitten. I hope you know that.”

You drop the book and take hold of the curls against the back of his neck. You squeeze them tight in your fist as you shake your head. You hate the resolve in his voice. “That’s not true. I’m just…here. I’m just me. You’re the one going out of your way to help me.”

Another smile but it’s softer. Sadder. “I think you’re helping me more than I’m helping you.”

You lift up and kiss him. “We’re helping each other,” you decide. “For as long as we can.”

When he kisses you back, you feel limitless. “Good.” He smacks his other hand against the outside of your leg. “Now, finish the chapter. We’re just getting to the good bit.”

You nearly whine but you do obey. Flipping through the pages until you find where you last left off. “Elizabeth looked at him, unabashedly. ‘What would you have liked me to do?’ she asked. Her voice was a silky purr. ‘How would you have liked me to touch myself without you? Would you have liked me to be soft and tender? Or would you have liked me to be just as hard and relentless as you?’”

Harry listens carefully, kissing a trail along down your chest while his fingers begin to work you closer. He knows you’re only moments away. Somehow, he always knows.

“‘Would you have preferred that I soak our sheets? Would you have liked to see the aftermath of my lust for you?’ She dragged her nails down his back. ‘Or do you like to know that I cannot touch myself the way you touch me? That my body does not respond to my hand the way it does yours?’”

Suddenly, he adds a third finger and your mouth instantly drops open. It starts to unravel before you can stop it and when he thrusts to the knuckle, you see those stars again. The same stars that brought him to you.

“Harry,” you gasp. You clutch his hair and his tongue dives forward. “Shit, Harry, wait—”

You come but he doesn’t stop. Damien might have, but Harry is most certainly not Damien. He flicks and sucks and pumps until you begin to cry. Until your legs are shaking on either side of his head and you’ve nearly yanked the curls from his skull.

Still, he pushes you toward a second—or rather, a third. And it’s far too quick for your liking.

“Har…shit, Harry, please—” You squirm and you fight against the almost painful pleasure radiating between your legs. “Hurts…hurts, Harry, please—”

“Don’t care,” you vaguely hear him murmur before he’s nipping at your clit again. “Again.”

Your cheeks are soaked and your fingers move from his curls to the bed beneath. You clutch the sheets and arch from the mattress, but he shoves you back down.

“Again,” he says. He slaps your pussy and you mewl. “You’ve done it before. Know you can do it again. Be good for me, come on. Be fucking good.”

And it’s almost sinister but it works. You come for a third time and your body feels wrecked. Ruined. Spent. You lose yourself in the sensation and by the time you find yourself again, he’s pulling his cock out and lining himself up.

“Read,” he demands next. He nods at the book. He’s determined to see this through. “Go. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? Told me you used to fuck yourself to these books, so I wanna fuck you to them, too. Wanna show you how much better the real thing is. So fucking read it, baby.”

You mindlessly reach for the novel beside you and drag it back open. You know he’s right and you plan to rush through the rest of the chapter so you can throw the book away and never open it again.

“When he pushes in, his breath becomes hers,” you whisper. “Her cunt accepts his cock and molds to it. And he knows, undoubtedly, that her pussy was made for him. That she was sewn together in the heavens and left on his lap for such a purpose. Because no one would ever be able to please her the way Damien could. No other man could even try. She was made for him. To be loved by him. To be fucked by him. To live and die for him. They were one.”

Harry waits for you to finish the thought before he finally pushes forward, the tip of his large head disappearing between your folds.

He braces himself against your hips and your lungs nearly give out. And he watches. He watches every fucking second of the way his cock stretches you open. Curses when he sees the way you accept him. Grits his teeth and fists your skin until he’s completely bottomed out.

And then…he kisses you.

Long and slow and it almost feels grateful. Like he’s thanking you for letting him inside and you sigh against his mouth.

Then, the book is suddenly snatched from your hand and chucked across the room before he kisses you harder. He growls, “Enough. You don’t come for him anymore. You fucking come for me. Is that understood?”

You whine his name but it’s not enough.

“Is that fucking understood?” he repeats louder. “You are not to pick up that goddamn book as long as you’re mine, do you hear me? You will not touch yourself to another man’s words or soak these fucking sheets for anybody else but me.”

And even if Harry isn’t a possessive man by nature, you thrive off the instruction. The threat—the demand. You imagine he doesn’t truly mean it, nor would he be that cross with you if you were to do it again.

But it fits the scene and you want to be perfect for him. “I understand,” you whimper. You bite your lip but he bites it harder. “Though, technically…it was written by a woman.”

You like to think he’d laugh if it were any other time. Today, however, he merely yanks himself out of your pussy and flips you around.

You’re on your stomach and spread before you can catch your breath. And you feel him push back in without a moment’s hesitation while his hand comes down in a firm smack to your ass.

You cry out his name and nuzzle your cheek against the bed. You miss being able to see him, but you happen to adore this side of him, too.

“Did I fucking ask?” he hisses before spanking you again. You feel your skin grow hot where his hand lands and somehow, it brings you even closer to release. “Huh? I don’t fucking care who wrote it. It is no longer yours to read. Tell me you understand.”

“I understand,” you say again. “I do, Sir. I promise.”

He kneads the tender flesh in his palm before mumbling, “Good girl. Now, are you gonna take my cock, Kitten? You gonna let me show you how a real man does it?”

Thankfully, your fervent nod is answer enough and with that, he begins a harsh, unforgiving pace that turns your insides to jello.

The bed shakes and your body shakes and this is fucking. The kind you’ve only ever seen in porn and you are so incredibly present in this moment with him. You drink in every detail, the way he holds your body, the way he fucks into your pussy, the way it sounds when he slips.

His hips feel good against your ass and his soft grunts are euphoric. A few rendezvous aren’t enough, you realize. You thought you were addicted before but now…

You don’t think it’s fair that he doesn’t have to share you, but you have to share him. And you can’t hide the pout that forms on your lips at the very thought of him leaving you—leaving your warmth—to go find it with someone else.

And you know he’s not like that. You know he’s not actively with anybody else but you…and occasionally Rebecca. Still, the chance is there. The offer is his for the taking, should he decide to take it.

When you go quiet, he weaves his fingers through your hair. “Baby, what’s wrong?” It’s still gruff the way he speaks but laced with tender concern. The kind you’re used to from him.

You replace the pout with a small smile. “Nothing, Sir. I promise.”

“Would you like to take a break? Or change colors?”

You shake your head. “No. I promise.”

He slows his thrusts. “Are you thinking again?” he asks gently. “Did I lose you to those ugly thoughts?”

You could almost cry from the way he notices. The way he cares. Still, you force a brave face. “No, sorry. Just feels really good.”

He’s unconvinced. “Kitten—”

“Please don’t stop, Sir,” you whimper. You use the quiver in your voice to persuade him. To keep him in this moment with you instead of trying to yank you out. “Please, I’m…I’m so close. Just wanna come with you.”

You hear him sigh and the firm grip on your hip loosens. “All right,” he concedes, yet…he pulls out.

You nearly wither.

However, before you can, he’s rolling you over onto your back. “I wanna try something else with you this time,” he says. “Wanna see if you’d ride me.”

You feel your eyes grow larger while your head nods all on its accord.

And he grins when he sees how mesmerized you are, grabbing your hand to help you up as you both get situated near the headboard. An easier place to start.

He pulls you over his thighs before he’s slipping his hands beneath your large shirt to pull it over your head. And once he has full access to your chest, he takes advantage. Kissing and licking your tits while his palm flattens against your spine to keep you on his tongue.

Then, you sit.

You start slow, and he uses his other hand to guide your hips at a pace he prefers. A pace he knows will be easier on you. After all, you’ve never taken him like this, and he’d like you to enjoy every fucking inch of the way down.

You gasp and cling to his shoulders as you go. This stretch is just as tantalizing, yet strangely more pleasurable. He feels deeper than he ever has and you glance down at where your bodies meet as though you’ll be able to see just where he is.

He smiles and takes your hand. “Right here,” he murmurs, as though anticipating your wonder. He presses your palm flat against your stomach before nudging himself up into you and—

The gasp melts into a moan, and he thrusts up once more but keeps your hand taut to your tummy. To the subtle bulge you can feel moving beneath.

“Sh…shit,” you manage, nails scratching at your skin. “I’m…fuck, Harry, I—”

“I know,” he says gently. He’s watching you again. Curious to your reaction and seemingly enthralled by your response. Happy. Content. “I know, baby. S’good, yeah?”

You surge forward and kiss him. Taking your hand away only so you can drag it down his chest and claw at his heart as though desperate to reach inside and take hold. To keep it. Forever.

You can feel it thumping against his ribcage. Going about as fast as you imagine yours is and there’s something so incredibly wonderful about knowing he’s equally as possessed as you are.

He seems to realize he’s the first man to do something so intimate with you and he likes this idea. Likes that he will always be your first memory, forever ingrained in your past. He holds you harder and kisses you deeper and begins to move you faster over his cock.

You shift, and grind, and ride him until you’re both a mess of moans and incoherent praises. He helps lift you up and guide you back down, setting a strangely addictive pace of bouncing on his cock until you’re nearing a fourth. But you won’t succumb until he does.

Your body is spent, every limb tired and aching for relief. It almost hurts, this pleasure, but it’s oddly sweet. Everything always is with him.

“Doing so good,” you hear him say, and you peel your eyes open to watch the way he watches you. His face is magnetic, every inch of him just as erotic as the sex itself. Even the way he swallows and clenches his jaw in pure bliss. “So fucking good, Kitten, you gonna give me another?”

You mewl pitifully and attempt to nod but it’s useless. The pressure is building and the ache is distracting and you’re close but somehow not nearly close enough.

Yet your tears and meek reaction only entertain him further. He grins wickedly as he rolls you faster, taking your nipple in his mouth before looking up. “What’s the matter, baby, hm? S’it hurt?”

You nod again while your hands cement themselves to his shoulders for balance.

However, he merely hums while his fingers suddenly lift toward his lips and disappear beside his tongue. And he sucks. Loudly. Lewdly. Until they’re soaked and dripping.

And then…he drops them to your clit.

The sound you make is miserable and pathetic. It does hurt but in the best way and you bury your face in his neck as though to hide from the pleasure.

You feel him nuzzle his cheek against your head. “Shh,” he coos, and rubs his other hand up and down your spine soothingly. “You’re okay. You’re gonna take it, aren’t you? Gonna give me another—”

“Harry,” you cry, gripping onto his curls as though your life depends on it.

“You’re okay,” he repeats firmly. “You’re fine. I know you can take me, so take me. Just like you took your little fingers before I got here. You come for me the way you came for him. Okay?”

It’s mean and cruel and so incredibly sadistic but with one little pinch…he tips you over.

It’s quick but powerful and you’re drop kicked back into your body just in time to feel him twitch before he’s slamming you down and hissing, “Can I?”

You nod and he fills you. Completely and utterly, until your insides feel even fuller and your mind has gone numb.

His head drops back against the headboard, lashes fluttering shut with relief while you watch. You watch all of it. The way he dribbles out of your pussy and down onto his thighs. The way his cock sits snugly inside of you. The way his skin glistens from the sweat and exertion.

But you can’t help the whine that slips out when you see those delicious pearlescent drops go to waste and you squirm when you realize how much you’re really losing.

You’ve never been one to care about keeping it inside. In fact, you’ve never really cared about it at all. But now…it feels like you’re losing him. You’re losing this experience by letting it drip down and disappear, and you nearly start to cry.

He takes hold of your cheek and gently sweeps his thumb across the soaked, warm skin of your face. “Baby,” he breathes. “What’s wrong?”

You swallow thickly and attempt to relax. You don't imagine he'd understand. “Nothing, sorry.”

His head tilts but he’s still smiling. “Then why are you clenching me so hard? What’s wrong? Are you in pain, does it hurt?”

“No. No,” you assure him quickly. “No, I just…I don’t know. Feels like…a waste, I guess.”

He’s confused until you look down and the moment he realizes, he laughs again. “Oh, you sweet fucking girl—” He tugs you in for another kiss and now your body is numb, too. “God, I really don’t fucking deserve you.”

You whimper against his tongue and he sighs.

“I’ll give you more, don’t worry,” he says before kissing down your throat. “Next time. I promise. But right now, I wanna clean you up and make sure you’re all right.”

You’d likely protest if you had the strength, but instead, you allow him to care for you. He sets you down onto the bed as gently as he can before he’s rushing around your apartment collecting the things he needs.

He starts with a warm washcloth along your inner thighs to collect the sticky residue and add a bit of relief to your swollen cunt. And even though it’s sensitive and you try to squirm away, he soothingly talks you through it. Keeping you calm. Steady. Present.

Then, once he’s washed himself up as well, he asks if it would be all right to hold you. And it’s the easiest yes you’ve ever given.

So you stay in his arms for hours, your head on his chest, his lips in your hair. You talk about everything and nothing, just listening to the sound of his heart as he recalls past moments that made him happy. Like this one.

Then, your favorite part. He asks what you’d like to do next time.

“I don’t know,” you admit sheepishly. “I…I’m not sure what all I like.”

He thinks. “Well, we could do some research. Try a few things. You said you like things rougher, yeah? We could add some new dynamics. Degradation, harder spanking, punishments. Things like that.”

Your stomach flips. “You’re into punishment?”

He laughs and the sound is beautiful. “Yeah. Why, does that surprise you?”

“Honestly…yes and no.”

“We don’t have to go too deep if you don’t want,” he says. “We can keep it light, but the option is always there.”

You nod. “And…you like being rougher? You like…degradation and all that?”

“Yeah. Because I know my partner trusts me to take care of them even if I’m being harsh. And there’s something powerful in that, I guess. That their pain and their pleasure belongs to me.”

You feel yourself clench at the very thought before you’re scooting closer. “Well…that sounds good to me. I like being taken care of by you. Even if you’re mean.”

He laughs. “Was I mean, Kitten?”

“No. Just oddly possessive over that book.”

He hums before he looks toward the discarded novel on the other side of the room. “Yeah, well…fuck that book. I mean it.”

Now, it’s your turn to laugh. “Harry.”

“What? I do mean it.” He kisses your forehead. “You deserve better than some half-assed attempt at sex on a page. You deserve to be fucked and looked after. And Damien isn’t gonna do that for you.”

“No, but…I have other books.”

He snorts. “Oh, really?”

“Yeah. I just picked an easy one since I didn’t want you to get too jealous.”

“Is that right?”

“Yup. Although that clearly didn’t work very well.”

You feel him land a firm smack to your ass that makes you squeal before you settle again.

“Watch it,” he warns. “Or I’ll pull you over my lap right now.”

You grin. “Maybe you should.”

And when he chuckles, you feel whole. “Next time. Deal?”

“Deal.”

The room falls silent again as you exist in his hold. Against his heart. In his life in a way you never imagined.

And then…you ruin it.

“Was she surprised you were coming over again?” you ask quietly, breath already catching in anticipation of his response. “Or was she…mad?”

Yet true to form, he’s calm. “No,” he says easily. “She was happy, honestly. Just surprised you didn’t mention it to her yourself.”

You grimace. Right. “I…yeah. Sorry, I…I think I got scared.”

You feel his cheek roll across your head before he’s scratching his nails up and down your back. “Why, Kitten?” he asks softly. “She’s not scary, I promise.”

“I know. Fuck, I know. I know, I…I don’t know.” You groan. “I think I…I just think I’m still not used to this. To this idea of…sharing? And I keep worrying that she’s gonna change her mind and…and it’ll be over. Just like that.”

He considers this for a beat before he’s kissing your crown again. “She’s not like that. I promise. She never would have agreed if she thought she’d change her mind.”

“…I know.”

“And even if she did, she doesn’t get to make that decision for us,” he tells you. “If we want to continue, that’s our choice. And nobody else’s.”

This makes you smile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Another kiss. “But you know she doesn’t want this to upset you. She cares about you a lot, Kitten. She values your friendship more than anything and she’d hate to know she’s made you so anxious.”

And just like that, you feel dejected again. “I know…”

“I don’t want to come between you two,” he whispers, and you know he means it. “And if I am—”

“No,” you interject. “No, you’re not. But I don’t want to come between you two, either.”

“You’re not,” he echoes smugly. “And I think that’s why this works. We’re good at sharing. At least with each other. And I like it this way.”

The contentment in his voice makes your heart swell and you reach up to kiss him firmly in response.

But the truth is, you don’t think you are very good at sharing. At least not him.

Although, you suppose you’ll have to learn.

Because next time…you don’t plan to let him go.

Writing smut inside smut is no joke 😭

Next Part:

~ Insufferable You* (Pt. 3)

Previous Part:

~ Infinite You* (Pt. 1)

~ Full Infinite You Masterlist

~ Main Masterlist

Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @iguessyourejustwhatineeded @dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs

#harry #harry styles #harry edward styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles x you #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan #harry styles smut #harry styles request #harry styles concept #smut #concept #friend!harry #harry and kitten #open relationship!harry #soft dom!harry

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bimbobaggins69 · 4 months

Text

✧˖*°࿐18+ mdni

𝘦𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘮𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: fluff, cursing, eddie has a prince albert, daddy kink(not sorry), unprotected p in v sex, squirting, multiple orgasms.

𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦

you’ve been aching, desperately aching for Eddie’s cock— since that night of his fourth week healing. He’s eaten you out and fingered you every chance he’s gotten, like: on your way home from the hideout and the grocery store, even in an elevator up to your mutual best friend Steve’s apartment. So needless to say he’s been pleasuring you in any way he can that doesn’t involve penetration; but it’s his eighth week and you’ve been impatiently awaiting it’s arrival. Finally, his prince albert piercing is fully healed and can be used as it was intended. You hoped you’d be the one getting used by the end of tonight.

Once eddie walked through the front door, you couldn’t help but to pounce on him. The thoughts you’ve had today alone, made you drip with need.

“Whoa, whoa!” He bemused with a chuckle as he sat his work bag down.

“I would ask how work was, but I’m trying to get in your pants.” You beamed, sending a salacious wink his way.

“Well, thank you for asking,” he smirked, grabbing the nape of your neck and pulling you into his chest. “I did this really sick piece on this older dude, it covered his whole back and he sat through it like a fucking champ.” He passionately spoke— it wasn’t unknown knowledge that eddie loved his job as a tattoo artist, he came home everyday telling you about the ‘cool shit’ he gets to draw on peoples bodies.

“That’s amazing baby! I can’t wait to hear all about it, right after you’re done fucking me.” You boldly challenge, looking up into his big doe eyes.

“Jesus, you’re like a kid on Christmas. Need it that bad, huh?” He mocks, face splitting with a sly smile.

“Ed’s, it’s been eight weeks since I’ve had you inside me, trust me when I say I am a kid on Christmas. I’ve thought about it all night; was so excited I even put on this little number for ya.” You suggestively bite your lower lip, slipping the black silk robe off of your body, revealing a cute chiffon two piece, the top was long sleeved and the fabric daintily gathered at your wrists, while the tops sat below your shoulders revealing them and an ample amount of cleavage, which was unnecessary considering that both the top and bottoms were completely see through, so much so that you could see just about every detail on your skin; the color of your nipples and how peaked they were, any mole or freckles, and especially the mound of hair you had just above your cunt— Eddie’s eyes specifically zoned in on the growing wet patch just below it. The bottoms were practically non existent, aside from the pretty silk ribbons that were tide into perfect little bows, sitting high on your curvy hips. One look at Eddie’s face and you knew the outfit or lack there of was doing its job.

“Fuck, when did you get this?” Your boyfriend asks, as his pupils burst wide with lustful hunger.

“Last week, when I went shopping with Steve and his new boy toy.” You giggle while his eyes roam over your body, as if every new inch of skin that his eyes met were logged into his brain to be treasured later. “You like?” You ask knowingly, unable to keep the satisfied look off of your face.

“You fucking know I do.” Eddie groans before picking you up and throwing you over his leather clad shoulder. You shriek in amusement as the wet patch in your panties grows double the size.

Once in your shared room, eddie roughly throws you onto your luscious king sized bed; your body flops down as you’re the one to now laugh at Eddie’s eagerness. The metalhead begins yanking off his clothes, desperate to match your nakedness, and he gets them off in record time, before enthusiastically pulling down his black briefs. His beautiful pink cock springs out, hard and leaking as the silver jewelry stares you right in the face. Apart from all of the lascivious thoughts you’ve had these past eight weeks, there was a side of you that was slightly nervous for what it’d feel like, if it would hurt or even bring you pleasure at all. But you’d been waiting too long with bated breath to care now, so you open your legs wide, silently telling eddie you’re for the taking.

His knees fall on the bed before crawling over you, once again hovering like he did that first night you both mutually masturbated and rubbed against each other to completion, except this time you’d be getting all of him and you couldn’t help the swoop in your belly from that thought.

“You ready, sweet girl?” Eddie murmurs, as he waits for your answer he rubs his thumb along your cheek, eyes raking along your face as if committing every little twitch or pout of your lip to memory.

“I’ve been ready, daddy.” You gently rub the tip of your nose against his before pulling him into a needy, sloppy and tongue filled kiss.

“Need you so fucking bad, kitten.” He whines before latching his lips back onto yours, his ringed hands fall to your hips and he works your pretty panties down your pretty thighs so he could get to that pretty pussy.

“Mmm, needy boy.” You whisper back with a cocksure gleam in your eyes.

“Is that how you’re wanting this to go? Hm? Cause you keep talkin’ to me like that and I’m gonna have to punish you.” He huffs but the smug smile he’s fighting tells you he’s enjoying every minute of your bratty attitude.

“Just want you to fuck me now, I’ve been a good girl I deserve it. You can punish me later, please.” You batt your lashes up at him as a pretty pout graces your lips.

“I’m gonna give you what you want, angel. Don’t worry.” The words leave his mouth just before he takes his cock in his hand and slaps it against the curls sitting just above where you’re aching for him.

“Don’t tease.” You mewl as you stuff the side of your face into the sheets, impatiently whining; begging was on the tip of your tongue until eddie lined his cock with your entrance and sunk in, cunt swallowing up his offering with the hunger you felt in your chest. The tip of the piercing immediately hit your sweet spot making you moan so loud, eddie had to pull back and asses your face before moving any further.

“Pleasedon’tfuckingstop!” The sentence rushing out of your mouth as if it were one big word.

Eddie, who is feeling just as desperate as you, needs absolutely no further proof before he’s sinking back into your warm, wet pussy. You suck him in as if you were made for him, heaven on legs.

“Yes, yes fuck! Thank you daddy, thank you!” You babble off praises as the piercing on the tip of his cock pounds against your g spot, unforgiving but so fucking welcomed.

“God, you’re dripping down my dick, baby.” The wetness from your cunt spurs him on as his thrusts speed up quicker, relentless and with passion.

You begin to tighten around him, squeezing him as the fire in your lower stomach blazes hot; hotter than ever before.

“Are you fucking coming, already?” He didn’t mean for it to sound so mocking, he was genuinely stunned that you were coming on his cock within a matter of minutes.

“Yes! Yes I’m coming!” You squeak as your legs begin to shake and your nails dig into his soft back, creating crescent like shapes in his milky white skin.

“Oh shit, oh fuck!” Eddie begins to shout as you come for him, his cock squeezed so tight it was bordering on painful pleasure. You shake in his arms as you come down from your high but Eddie isn’t finished with you yet; his pace picks up and he’s fucking back into you like he never stopped, the silver, blunt jewelry continuously hitting your inner bundle of nerves. A few more thrusts and the fire is back with a blazing vengeance. Your cunt spasms around him again, making his eyes shoot to yours in disbelief, as he takes in the way you’re utterly falling apart for him.

“Holy shit.” He whispers, so close to your face his breath skims your lips.

“Eddie! Oh my-” you cant even finish your words as they dislodge from your brain, absolutely no thoughts but eddie, eddie, eddie. The second you feel that burn and need to push, you begin to stammer, wanting to tell him somethings not right, it feels different but nothing leaves your mouth. Instead a loud gush of fluid, echoes out around the sex scented room.

“What the-” eddie begins to ask, confusion written on his face as he looks down between your bodies, where you’re connected, immediately witnessing the soaked sheets and the droplets splayed on both his and your thighs.

“You squirted, holy fuck! You squirted kitten.” He beams with lust filled excitement, you lay there dumbfounded. You heard that these kinds of piercings were known to make pussy owners squirt, and you were hoping you’d be lucky enough to experience it but weren’t banking on it actually happening, it was more wishful thinking.

You and eddie smile at each other, before he’s going back in for the kill; kissing your lips sweetly as his hips begin to snap against yours. Thrusts egged on by his itching need to come.

“Ah fuck, you feel so good kitten. Shit I’m coming!” He breaths out harshly, as his forehead rests on yours; eyes meeting in a love filled gaze as he empties inside of you. The warmth of his spend has you moaning with him, holding him in your arms and pushing his hair off of his sweaty face.

You both lay intertwined, limbs kissing limbs as you and eddie recap the best sex you’d both just had, to date.

“So, the wait was worth it then?” Eddie asks, knowingly scanning your face.

“So fucking worth it.”

@wonderlandwalker hope you enjoy, babe!

tagging some moots <3

@corrodedcorpses @xxhellfirebunnyxx @taintedcigs @reidsbtch @chrrymunson @eddiesxangel @melodymunson @succubusmunson @mmunson86 @keeksandgigz @nailbatanddungeon @imyourdaninow

#—𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 #I wrote this while eating a bowl of cereal #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff

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drudyslut · 3 months

Text

— summary: you and jj have some late night fun on the beach.

— warnings: smut! 18+ soft!jj, public sex, oral (fem receiving), fingering, squirting, creampie, overstimulation, lots of praise, unprotected sex.

— note: this. gif… it has me feral as fuck. also, sex on the beach just screams jj vibes and i need it so badly :((

❥ sex on the beach — j.m

“jj-” you try and protest, but his lips are on yours again, silencing your pleas to ‘just go home’ and continue this.

a large hand runs up your side and to your shoulder, slowly pushing your back into the sand while his other hand is toying with the strings of your bikini bottoms.

his lips on yours have your brain short circuiting, almost forgetting that you’re in public, but the sound of the ocean waves crashing into the shore snap you back into reality.

you firmly press your palm to his chest, pushing him back, his lips red and swollen as he gives you a soft look, “what’s wrong baby?”

“i- shouldn’t we go home, j? i mean.. anyone can see us out here..”

jj sits himself on his knees, glancing around the dark, empty beach before his eyes find yours once more, “no one will see us princess, promise. this’ll be fun, c’mon..”

you bring your bottom lip between your teeth, glancing around the beach as well— not a soul in sight besides you and jj. this could be fun, you didn’t know why you were so worried, jj would never put you in a bad situation either.

you sigh, “you’re right, it’ll be fun. ‘m sorry, i just get nervous… we’ve never had sex in public before..”

“‘s okay sweet girl, but don’t worry, just clear your mind, let me help you forget your worries, yeah?”

before you can even mutter out a response jj has his mouth on yours again, leaving soft, slow kisses. a small moan falls from your lips when he works his way down your jaw and onto your neck, his swollen lips wrapping around the sensitive skin to suck in a deep, purple bruise.

“j, please”

he pulls his lips from your neck, sitting on his knees again and gazing down at you, “please what baby? tell me what you need”

you prop yourself up on your elbows, big doe eyes burning into his face, “need to feel you.. please”

jj chuckles softly, his head rolling to the side in amusement.

“mhm, gonna need to be more specific baby. don’t be shy”

“your mouth, your cock. i need all of it j”

a wide grin takes over his face, the moonlight illuminating his beautiful features, making his bright blue eyes sparkle, “s’all you needed to say baby”

he places his hands on your thighs, running his fingertips up and down the length of your smooth skin before he finds the strings that tied your bikini bottoms together. he slowly pulls at the strings, the perfectly tied knots on either side of your hips coming loose, bikini bottoms now barely covering your arousal slick cunt.

“lift up baby” jj says softly, and you obey, lifting your ass up slightly so he could pull the flimsy fabric from under you.

he wastes no time spreading your legs apart and dropping onto his stomach. a shudder runs down your spine when you feel his hot breath against your sopping core.

your hands fly into his hair, tugging softly at his messy blond locks, your hips bucking forward, chasing the friction you desperately craved.

jj glances up at you from between your legs, his tongue running across his bottom lip before he dips his head down, licking a long stripe from your hole to your clit. you throw your head back into the sand, eyes squeezed shut as your fingertips dug further into his hair.

he repeats his actions a few more times before he finally wraps his plump lips around your clit, sucking at it softly. he releases your clit from his mouth with a soft pop, flicking his tongue over the sensitive bud a few times, pulling soft whines from your lips.

jj begins prodding at your entrance with his tongue, pushing it in slowly before quickly pulling it back out. you squirm beneath him, clenching around air as you try and chase your high.

he drags his tongue through your slick, lips sucking at your puffy clit as he takes two of his fingers and begins sliding them through your folds. he slowly pushes his middle finger inside you, making you clamp down around the digit tightly as he slowly and sensually thrusts his finger before adding another.

your fingers tug at his hair, pushing his face further into your cunt as your orgasm begins to grow closer. you’re a whimpering mess, soft, sweet moans emitting from you, “j- fuck— ‘m so close, j!”

he quickens his fingers, the squelching sounds of your pussy and the waves crashing behind you filling the silent air. you feel the band tighten, your toes curling into the sand beneath you, hips rolling to meet each thrust of jj’s fingers, his mouth never letting up its assault on your sensitive clit.

the band finally snaps, your arms falling limp by your sides, fingers grasping onto the sand for dear life as your legs shake, your orgasm gushing from you and soaking jj’s face.

he helps you ride out you your high, not once faltering the movements of his fingers or the harsh sucking on your clit. you try and squeeze your legs closed, but jj’s strong hand finds your thigh, pushing it back to the side and firmly pressing it into the ground.

you begin to loudly whine, overstimulated and exhausted, “jj, please! s’too much!”

jj hums against your cunt, the vibrations making your hips buck forward, tears pricking at your eyes as you tried to weakly push him back. it was useless to try and push him away, he was much stronger than you, and the grip he had on your thigh was keeping your legs spread wide for him. his fingers begin to slow in pace, curving slightly as he begins hitting at your gspot again, trying to pull another orgasm from you.

you feel your belly tightening again, another orgasm ready to burst free, causing tears to uncontrollably stream down your face.

“ah ah, jj— shit!” you moan loudly, head pressed firmly into the ground, lip brought harshly between your teeth as your second orgasm quickly rushes from you.

jj pulls his head from between your legs, his face covered in your arousal. he smirks down at your limp body, his eyes intently watching as your chest heaves up and down, legs still shaking as you try and bring them together.

he crawls on top of you, his arms on either side of your body. he dips his head down, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss and slipping his tongue inside your mouth, letting you taste yourself.

“did so good f’me baby, so good. you feel okay sweetheart?”

you weakly mutter out a “mhm”, too exhausted to try and form a full sentence.

jj nods his head, lowering his body onto yours. your eyes fly open when you feel his hard on pressing against your bare cunt through his swim trunks, “got one more in ya pretty girl? jus’ one more, and then i’ll take you home and take care of ya, sound good?”

you snake your arms around his waist, pushing his front further into you, a soft whine falling from your lips when his hard cock pressed against your overly sensitive clit, “wanna feel you, j. need to feel you”

jj smiles excitedly, pushing himself up and onto his feet. you watch him in awe as he strips himself of his swim trunks, his long, thick cock springing free and making saliva pool in your mouth. you’d always found jj attractive, obviously he was your boyfriend, but something about the way the moonlight was shining down on him, illuminating his beautiful body, made him look even more deliciously beautiful.

he drops himself to his knees, his hands finding the sand as he puts himself in push up position. he crawls his way toward you slowly, caging your body into the ground, his lips on yours in an instant.

you moan into his mouth, a smirk playing at his lips from how desperate you were for him, “gonna make you feel real good baby”

he takes one hand, grasping his cock and slowly pumping himself a few times before he runs his swollen head through your slick folds. a soft gasp falls past your lips when he slowly pushes the head in, quickly pulling it back out and repeating his actions a few times.

you’re about to complain, beg him to fuck you, but your words die, a loud shout of his name emitting from you when he sinks himself inside of you without warning, filling you to the hilt.

“oh shit! jj!”

he slowly rolls his hips into yours, the head of his cock repeatedly hitting at your sweet spot with each push and pull. your hands fly around his neck, fingernails digging into his shoulders and leaving half crescent moons on his skin. you scratch your nails down his back, the sounds of your loud moans drowning out the waves crashing into the shore.

still sensitive from the last two orgasms jj had awarded you, you could already feel your third brewing, your velvety inner walls clenching tightly around his cock, sucking him in deeper.

“gonna cum f’me already princess? we jus’ barely started” jj mocked teasingly.

he hisses when your fingernails dig further into his back, breaking the skin, “fuck, ‘m gonna cum if you keep squeezin’ on me so tight, want me to cum inside you sweet girl?”

you manage to breathe out an “mhm”, your eyes squeezed shut as you focus on your impending orgasm.

jj tuts, stilling his hips, his dick buried deep inside you as he gazes down at you, “words baby, want my cum inside this pretty lil’ pussy, hmm?”

a whimper leaves your lips at his lack of movement, “yes, p-please j. want your cum inside”

he smiles, his hips snapping harshly into yours once more, “atta girl, s’all i needed to hear”

low and raspy groans fill your ears, jj’s thrusts growing sloppier letting you know his own orgasm was nearing. he snakes his hands under your waist, large, calloused hands cupping at your ass before he quickly flips the two of you, putting you on top.

you throw your head back, arms flying behind you to steady yourself as you rolled your hips around his cock, giving him a perfect view of where the two of you connected.

“shit, your pussy looks so good with my cock buried inside it, could stay like this forever, shit!”

jj lays one hand behind his head, watching intently as you continued to slowly fuck yourself onto his cock. his free hand makes its way to your clit, rubbing sloppy circles around your overly sensitive bud.

strings of curses and groans fall from you and jj, your orgasms threatening to burst from you. jj removes his fingers from your clit, wrapping it around your waist and pulling you forward, your head buried in the crook of his neck as he begins to harshly fuck up into you.

“jj! j- shit, ‘m cumming j!”

“go on baby, ‘m right behind you!”

a few more harsh snaps of his hips has you tumbling over the edge, your third orgasm gushing from you and soaking jj’s cock and pelvis.

you feel his cock twitch inside you, a string of “fucks” falling past his lips as the hot, white ropes of his cum spill inside you.

he thrusts his cum deep into your cunt, his hand falling from your waist and to his sides as he tried to steady his breathing.

you roll yourself off of him, laying in the sand beside his sweaty, worn out body, “thank you, that was fun” you say sweetly, placing a soft kiss to his cheek.

rolls his head to the side, “told ya, you can bet your sweet ass we’re doing this more often”

JJ TAGLIST: @rafeism @ivy-34 @thelomlisrafecameron @writingjjfics @always-reading @harrys-humble-housewife @maybankspov @immyowndefender @jjmaybankswifes-blog @wetbitchlibrary @lizcameron @xprloki @starkeypankowsbae @moremaybank @alexisbaumann2004 @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @thewitchesofart @unsaidjaelinrose @itsmytimetoodream @abbybarnesstuff @r1vrsefx @mel119g @rafetopia @jade-is-jaded @jjmaybankisbae @lexasaurs634 @fayerite @drewstarkeyslut @presleyanswrites @sierraluvz @carma-fanficaddict @rafescokenostril @madzzz0797 @slytherhoes @jscameron @jjsmarijuana @ijustwanttoreadlols @luversgirl @skyesthebomb @nirvanaissogood @daivny @mxlti-fand0m-imaginess @digitaldiary111 @redhead1180 @crgirlsworld @personalfavsthatarerandom @urbestieboo @maybankslover @buckyisveryhot @cantstoptherecs @ratatioulle

jj masterlist | taglist form

#jj maybank #jj maybank x you #jj maybank smut #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank fic #jj maybank fanfiction #jj smut #tw public sex #jj maybank brainrot #obx jj #obx jj maybank #obx smut #obx #obx fic

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kissitbttr · 3 months

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dilf!toji who finds you sitting in the curb at one am when he’s doing a quick run to 7/11 to grab a few snacks and a six pack. wondering why on earth, a pretty girl like you is alone.

after paying, he exits through the door before walking cautiously towards you. eyes glancing left and right to find no one is around, not even a car. meaning that you may have walked here.

“hi there sweetheart, you okay?” he calls out of worries. it’s very dark outside and far too dangerous for a young thing like you to be all here alone.

the moment you turn your head around, toji swears he had never seen someone so beautiful. glossy irises looking up at him with your messy long curls framing your features. glittery makeup decorating your eyes, nose and lips.

you must be no older than twenty-five.

“huh?” so clueless, yet so pretty. “o-oh. i’m—good, sir.. thank you” shooting him a small toothy grin with a gummy worm tuck in between your teeth,

he chuckles at that, hand shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants. how adorable.

he nods his chin towards your disregarded kitten heels beside you. “rough night?”

shrugging, you tug off the stretchy sweet off your mouth before chewing. “something like that.”

he tsks at that, head shaking. “it’s not safe for a girl like you to be out here. considering it’s very late. did you walk here?”

nodding, you put a strand of hair behind your ear. “i did, yes. i needed.. food. i was hungry.”

your answer makes him breathe out a laugh. “candies aren’t food, sweetheart—i assumed you were at a party dressing like that” he points out at your skin tight pink dress that barely covers your thighs, and he has to restrain himself from thinking unholy thoughts.

“it was getting quite crowded… i didn’t like it.. suffocating” your voice coming off quiet, if not—sad—“the food there is awful too”

toji hums, taking another step closer as your eyes follow his movements. head tilting back a bit when you notice he’s only standing inches away from your small figure,

“boyfriend not around?” his head move to the side, eyes roaming down your figure. shaking your head, he asks again. “what happened?”

you reply shakily. “he dumped me.. called me nasty things” a tear escapes your eye as you begin to remember what your ex had done to you two hours prior. “t-that’s why i’m here.”

when he sees you beginning to cry, he can’t help but feel bad. what a fucking asshole he thinks. making a cute girl cry and dumped her in the middle of the night? who fucking does that?!

he crouches down to your eye level. and that’s when you finally take a good look of his appearance. breath almost hitching at just how even more handsome he looks up close. even the faint scar across his lips just makes this man even more hotter.

“i’m sorry to hear that, sweetheart. sounds to me like he’s a straight jerk, yeah?” he says with a small smile. seeing you nod as a reply. gaze isn’t moving from his. “don’t cry over him, i bet he doesn’t deserve a beautiful girl like you”

your cheeks warm at that, eyes dropping to your lap just so he won’t notice how nervous he makes you feel by that comment. however, his finger moves underneath your chin to get you to look back at him again. his thumb grazing against your soft skin,

“want me to beat his ass for you? because i will, just lead the way”

you can’t help but giggle at his offer, and it makes toji’s heart skip a beat at the beautiful sound. his lips stretch into a bigger smile when he sees you like that.

“atta girl. there she is” he chuckles, “how old are you, baby?”

“i’m twenty one”

toji mutters out a soft ‘fuck’ which earns a confused frown from you. he’s almost twice your age. “you need a ride back to the party? i promise i’m not a creep or anything. just can’t stand at the thought of you walking back alone. something bad could happen, you know?”

“i would like that very much sir, thank you” a smile pulls upon your pink glossy lips, fingers fiddling with each other,

toji finds you to be endearing, adorable and pretty when you look at him like that. it has been too long since someone makes his heart ponder like this, and all you had to do was just smile at him with a gummy packet in your hand.

“call me toji, sweetheart—c’mere. up you get” he moves the sixpack towards his left hand as the other grabs yours, helping you up on your feet. “but before that, i think you need to get better food in your system. we’ll stop by at something, yeah?”

you nod quickly, slipping your feet back into the heels with a wide smile not leaving your face. “okay!”

with that, toji smiles back at you before putting his hand on your back, guiding you towards his car.

will expand because in this au toji is a rich ass man and ready to give him everything for his soon to be baby <3

(look what you made me do @tojisun )

#toji x reader #toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro fluff #dilf!toji #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro blurbs

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jellys-compendium · 4 months

Text

Red Handed

A König x f!Reader Oneshot

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Summary: After your poor performance on one of your squad's training exercises, you've been punished by fulfilling laundry duty for the entire facility for a month. It's a thankless job, but maybe it will help you figure out who the hell has been stealing your panties. Cw: smut (pwp), mutual pining, oral sex (f!receiving), fingering, panty kink, panty sniffing, pet names, size difference/size kink, mask kink, semi-public sex, masturbation, mutual pining, König is a bit of a pervert but he's also awkward, shy and sweet and eats pussy like a champ. Word Count: 3k A/n: This fic is for a dear friend of mine. I hope you enjoy it!

It’s 5:12 AM on a quiet Sunday morning, and mostly everyone in the compound is fast asleep.

Normally, you would be too. But rather than enjoying that sweet extra few hours to sleep in on the one day you have off, you instead find yourself with your teeth grit and cursing under your breath as you haul the last enormous load of laundry into the KorTac facility’s laundry room.

“This is your punishment,” Your superior officer’s words replay in your mind like a broken record.

“For your abysmal performance in the last training exercise, you’ll be assigned laundry duty for the entire facility for the month.”

Sheesh, what an asshole. While you understand that this is how it goes in any military faction, it’s not like the man had to assign you to laundry duty for the whole damn month.

Your comrades had of course taken full advantage of the situation, flinging their dirty socks and other unmentionables at you with childish glee as you passed by their bunks with the laundry bin. Of course, you had returned every little quip with one of your own.

“Thanks mom!”

“No problem, least favorite child.”

“Can you get my boxers smelling like roses when you’re done? My girlfriend would love that.”

“Sure, but I don’t think your hand is all that picky.”

The banter had been amicably scathing for the most part, but admittedly there had been some days where the teasing had frayed your nerves. Unfortunately, that group of lovable meatheads really struggled on picking up on when you’ve had enough. Luckily for you, on those days salvation had come in the form of one very unlikely character.

König. The charmingly awkward 6ft10 giant that could snap a man’s spine over his knee without breaking a sweat.

“That’s enough teasing from you all. Let her do her job in peace.”

As you load the huge pile of laundry into the washing machines, your mind begins its usual circling around thoughts of König. You like him. A lot.

You’ve liked him from the moment you first laid eyes on him nearly a year ago. There’s just something about his dorky personality, coupled with his awkward charm and humongous presence that makes your heart pound excitedly in your chest. Absolutely every single person in the facility knows about your crush too. Well… everyone except König.

König is a bit of a weird and mysterious person. Sometimes he does and says things that don’t really make a lot of sense. You’ve also come to discover that König is pretty secretive about his past, never giving anyone too many details about where he comes from or who he really is.

But the strangest thing about König is that he always has his face covered, even when he’s off duty. As the two of you developed a closer friendship over time, you’d mustered the courage to ask him about the mask one day, but König had simply let out a nervous little laugh and said,

“Ah. I’m sorry, I’m just a bit shy, häschen.”

Also, yes, häschen. The huge Austrian man you had a not so secret crush on had given you an affectionate little nickname. A nickname that he only used whenever the two of you were alone.

“You’re always so busy and energetic! Like a cu—ah—clever little rabbit, ja?”

Your heart squeezes in your chest. God, you are so down bad for that man. Too bad that when it comes to your feelings, König is about as perceptive as a bag full of hammers. You can’t quite figure out if he genuinely is that oblivious to your advances or if it’s his way of letting you down gently. For fear of it being the latter, you had decided to not push it and see where things go.

Still, that doesn’t mean you’re not secretly sinking your fingers into your pussy every other night, his name a silent whisper on your lips and his innocent little nickname an echo in your brain.

Häschen.

A tremor travels up your spine, and your thighs squeeze together as a rush of heat courses through your body. Right. Ignoring that.

Refocusing on your task, you finish filling up one of the many washing machines, slide out the tray, and pour in the detergent and softener before setting it to cycle. Then, you proceed to fill in the next one and the next until finally you get to your own pile of laundry.

As you start to sort your clothes, you realize that you’re running low on underwear again. It’s so weird.

In the last few months you’d noticed that some of your panties had gone missing. Originally you’d thought that it was just a fluke—maybe one of your not so perceptive comrades accidentally dropping one or two behind the machines? But since you yourself had taken over laundry duty, you realized that this isn’t the case. Another pair had gone missing and from right under your nose.

You had been especially annoyed when you discovered that it was your favorite comfy but lacy little pair too. Either this is a joke in poor taste, or you have a pervert on your hands. Regardless of which one it is, it’s the last thing you need right now.

Sighing, you reach down and are about to finish filling up the last drum with your dirty clothes when you realize that you had forgotten to add one of your favorite hoodies to the pile.

“Shit.” You whisper under your breath. It’s going to be a bit of a trek to head back to your room and get it, but you really love that hoodie and the thought of being wrapped all nice and warm in it once it’s out of the dryer is too enticing to ignore.

Leaving your laundry to sit in the open machine, you make your way back through the dimly lit hallways of the KorTac training facility. It’s too early for even your superiors to be up, so you’re not that worried about being caught padding through the hallways with bare feet and without your uniform.

As you pass by König’s room, your eyes can’t help but linger on the door. He hasn’t come back from his contract yet. It’s been almost two weeks since you’ve seen him and you miss the big guy.

Even though König hasn’t shown any signs that he’s interested in you beyond being just friends, you still miss seeing him in the mornings. Exchanging some amicable and encouraging words before heading off to your first drill is one of the highlights of your day. Maybe he’s not into you, or maybe he’s just that shy. König’s true intentions are really just as mysterious as the face he hides.

Finally reaching your room, you make a grab for the hoodie that you’ve forgotten at the foot of your bed. Once you have it safely tucked under your arm, you quietly slip back out into the hallway and jog back towards the laundry room. You’d prefer to have your laundry duty done before your comrades wake up and start harassing you for clean clothes.

You slow your gait as you reach the laundry room, but as you silently reach for the door you detect the softest little sound resonating from behind the door.

Is someone there? Seriously, at five in the morning? But then strikes you. Maybe this is the culprit behind your missing panties!

‘Caught you red handed you, jerk.’ You think as you slowly wrap your fingers around the doorknob and turn it. Once the latch is free, you silently push it open just a crack and peek inside. What you see has your jaw nearly hitting the floor.

It’s…König.

Your eyes sweep across König’s unmistakable, enormous frame as he leans over the washing machine you had left open, his mask pushed up to the bridge of his nose, giving you a teasing glimpse of his lips, chin, and jaw as he presses a bundled wad of red fabric against his face.

Wait…holy shit are those your fucking panties?

A deep groan escapes König’s lips, his huge body tensing as his left hand travels down. You nearly choke on your own spit when he starts to palm at the raging hard on pressing severely against his fly.

Whoa…is that a third leg in his pants or…

Your eyes are glued to König’s hand as it travels up and down his clothed length, his body shudders gorgeously as he moves back to lean against one of the dryers. The sight of the pink swipe of his tongue darting out to lick at your panties has you practically gushing between your legs.

Then, another soft sound, this time a desperate little groan of your name wisps through the air as König’s hips start to roll against his hand. The tiniest little wet spot forms on his pants where the head of his cock rests.

“You taste so good, mein häschen.”

Then, his thick fingers move towards his belt.

Oh.

You bite your lip, debating on what you should do. The intoxicating thrill that bubbles in your tummy at the thought of watching König stroke his cock to the scent of your pussy is outrageously tempting. But…this is a messy situation. You really shouldn’t be spying on him. But then again, he really shouldn’t be stealing your panties and using them to jerk off.

Fuck. But König wants you too, doesn’t he? He’s pent up and desperate, straining against his pants and you can help him with that.

Stealing your resolve, you drop your hoodie, enter the laundry room and then slowly close and lock the door behind you.

Another hot groan escapes König’s mouth. He opens his eyes, those blue pools all glassy and love drunk until they fall on you. The moment his brain registers that you’re in the room with him, König’s entire body jolts as if he’d been hooked up to a car battery.

“Scheisse!”

The mountainous man drops your panties like they’d bitten him, his mask falling back into place as his blue eyes widen into saucers filled to the brim with panic.

“Ah—uh—G-guten morgen! I s-see that you’re still on laundry duty.”

König hips shift. He’s clearly trying to hide the massive tree trunk in his pants from your line of sight. A cheeky little grin spreads across your lips.

‘Yeah, good luck with that, big boy.’

“I am.” You confirm, making your way towards him. König’s eyes follow you like a hawk, the subtle quick rise and fall of his chest the only sign that he’s still flustered.

Stopping at the discarded panties on the floor, you reach down and pluck them between your fingers. The dark, wet stripe of where König’s tongue had been is clear for you both to see. The heat that pools in your gut as a response nearly has you jumping the man’s bones.

“What were you doing with my panties?” You softly ask, your gaze meeting König’s before lowering down to his cock.

The man freezes up like a statue.

“I—uh—I…”

He’s speechless, and you’re going to take advantage of that. Stepping forward, you close the distance between yourself and König. Once you’re close enough, you place your hand on the throbbing dick trapped in his pants.

König inhales sharply, steading himself against the dryer with his powerful hands. The wet little patch on his pants grows, and you feel him shyly push his cock against your hand just a little bit harder.

Cute.

Licking your lips, you start to palm him, the heat and size of König’s cock makes your heart race and your pussy throb. Being this close to him, you realize that the tip of your head barely even reaches the height of his clavicle.

Fuck, he’s so huge and powerful. This man could absolutely bend you into whatever shape he wants. You’ve seen him in action many times before and you know full well that König is not a force to be messed with. And yet here he is, complete and total putty in your hands.

Then with a coquettish little wink, you reach for König’s pocket and slowly stuff your panties inside.

“You know,” You whisper. “If you want to lick my pussy, König, all you have to do is ask.”

Before you even realize that’s happening, König’s massive arms encircle your waist and haul you into the air with absolutely no effort at all.

Gasping in surprise, your breath is stolen from your lungs as König turns you both around, and after another quick flurry of movement you find yourself pinned against the top of one of the dryers. Pinned, secured, and at the utter mercy of König’s incredible strength.

Your pussy practically weeps.

“Can I then?”

You try and catch your breath, eyes locking with König’s blue ones. You realize that König no longer has a look of startled panic. Instead, those eyes of his are hooded, lust filled, and they are staring directly at you.

“W-what?”

König’s scorching fingers brush against the band of your pajama shorts, teasingly grazing the sensitive skin of your navel.

“Can I eat your cunt, leibling?”

You shudder, heat pooling between your thighs at the hungry growl following König’s words.

“Yes.”

Your shorts and panties are off you faster than you can blink. And you watch—totally breathless—as König lifts his mask up just enough to reveal his mouth before diving his lips and tongue between the folds of your pussy.

Your body arches, crying out softly as König’s stubbled chin and cheeks scratch pleasurably against your skin. His tongue immediately flexes then flicks against your clit before diving back down to your entrance to lap at your taste.

“Fuck,” König groans sensually, his hands snaking around your hips to grip and pull you closer—burying his face deeper into you.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to taste you.”

You gasp as König’s fingers dig roughly into your flesh, his hot moans vibrating against your clit. Your hips will be decorated with bruises later no doubt, and that thought makes you purr with unabashed ecstasy.

“M-more!” You beg, your hips rutting against König’s mouth. “König, please don’t stop.”

“You want more?” König hums. “Gut. I’ll give you more.”

Those blue eyes flash to yours, and your pussy practically melts as he dives back down to tongue at your cunt—but not before giving you a little cheeky grin first.

God, he’s such a dork. An adorable, massive dork. And you are so head over heels for him.

Your thoughts scatter as König sucks and licks and laps at your flesh. His lips circling and sucking at your clit, his tongue caressing your folds, his breath hot as he whispers hushed praise against your skin in his native language. He feels so good.

And you want to touch him. You’re so desperate to touch him. But you have to admit, there is something so incredibly sexy about having a man—this man—go down on you while he’s wearing his mask. You don’t even know what he really looks like, but at this moment you realize that you don’t even care.

“König,” You pant, thighs trembling as you get closer to your climax.

“Mmm. You’re close, leibling.”

A statement, not a question.

“Y-yes.” You keen, arching up as he circles your clit once more.

König groans then sucks at your clit, rolling the engorged bud against his tongue as his right hand comes up to your cunt. You groan as he works to drench his fingers with the slick between your folds.

“Need to have something inside you, ja?” He probes your entrance with his thick fingers. “Want to squeeze down on me as you come?”

“Please!” You cry out, eyes squeezing shut as that powerful wave of pleasure crests—on the verge of crashing and pulsing through your body like a storm.

“Yes! König, pleeeease!”

And as König’s sinks two of his thick fingers inside you, you feel him smile against your cunt.

“That’s my good girl. Come on my fingers, häschen.”

König pumps his thick digits deeper inside you, stroking along your walls and lapping at your clit with such force that your body has no choice but to succumb to your orgasm with a ferocity that has you seeing stars.

Your release rips a high pitched cry from your throat as your back arches and you writhe against König’s hands and mouth. You can faintly hear him curse under his breath, moaning brokenly as he pulls his fingers out of your pussy and laps up every drop of your release like a man starved.

“That’s it.” He whispers with reverence. “So pretty when you come in my hands, leibling.”

König takes his time helping you ride out your high, his mouth not leaving you until the last of your pleased little shivers leaves your body. Then, he pulls away, licking his lips as he lets his mask fall back down again.

“König,” You mewl, the thrumming pleasure in your body still burning strong as you reach for the front of his pants.

“I want your cock.”

The massive man groans, his blue eyes shutting tight in an effort to restrain himself. You palm at him, desperately wanting to feel the weight of his body on yours. You want to know what it feels like to be filled up to the brim with him.

But König shakes his head.

“We’ll have time for that later.”

“But—”

The feeling of König’s fingers pressing up against your pussy once more interrupts your sentence.

“You’re very small here, leibling.” König coos. “We’ll have to take our time preparing you to take my cock.”

A debaucherous little shudder courses through your body at his words. Patience is a virtue they say. But right now, it feels a little more like torture.

You’re about to argue with König, when suddenly a resounding knock bangs against the laundry room’s door. Your bodies freeze like a deer in headlights as you both hear one of your superiors angrily calling your name.

“Hey! Are you in there? What is this hoodie doing out here and why is the door locked? Open this door immediately!”

You and König stare at one another.

Shit. Caught red handed for the second time today.

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#call of duty #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #konig #konig x reader #konig x you #konig call of duty #konig smut #cod smut #jellywrites

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