#stupid man has been on my mind since the beginning of the year | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

holybibly · 4 months

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IT'S YOU |Woosan x reader| Part I Part 2

Genre: smut, from friends to lovers!au, college!au

Word Count: 6,6k

Summary: Sometimes drunken decisions lead to the most unexpected results and the most shocking confessions. Or, after your boyfriend cheats on you, you propose a threesome to your best friends and it might just be what they have always wanted.

WARNING: only!18+ pet names, explicit sexual content, explicit language, unprotected sex, pussy eating, size kink, oral giving and receiving, double penetration, threesomes, dirty talk and more.

A/N: Here they are, our winners. I'm a little overjoyed because I'm about to try out a new style for myself (BTW, which of my styles of my work do you love most? Answer in the comments, it will help me much). One of the things I have to learn is the writing of shorter chapters. This one was so long that I had to split it into two parts. The second part won't take too long either.I'm still trying my best to write smut. So please be gentle with me.

There will be an update in a separate post about the rest of the work. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated.

One year ago.

It was a feeling of sweet euphoria coursing through your veins. Pure, scalding ecstasy that frothed your blood and clouded your mind. Multicolored neon lights licked greedily at your wet, naked skin, leaving acid green and poisonous pink burns on it. All your senses were overloaded, and every touch felt like a liquid flame. The throbbing bass of the deafening music echoed through your body like the beating of your own heart and completely consumed all of your other senses, except for absolute pleasure.

You lost track of the amount of alcohol you had consumed that day, shot after shot, until a pleasant fog began to form in your head, blocking out all other thoughts. The tequila flowed down your throat like water, and you were sure you'd remember how it tasted in the morning, but you didn't care what you'd done tonight or how you knew you'd feel tomorrow. You didn't care about that. Your aim was to forget yourself, to disappear into the crowd, to merge with the music until any connection to the outside world was nothing more than the beginning of the next day.

Dance, baby, dance!

The atmosphere in the club grew fuzzier and fainter, sweaty, hot bodies pressed closer together merging, the hot touches of forbidden pleasures caressing the skin with the fingertips of strangers, wet lips touching the bare, sticky skin on you shoulders, pressing rough impatient kisses into it. Too many people and too many strangers are here for nothing but fuck.

You weren't a stupid little girl who believed in virginal marriage and pink ponies; to be honest, you were far from that gentle picture. God, Wooyoung, and San had been your best friends since high school, and now you were at university, and if after all that time you couldn't repeat every position in the Kama Sutra by heart, it really surprised you. Innocence and modesty were the last words in your vocabulary, and with Wooyoung's big mouth, you were well aware of the whole of theirs sex life. And when you say everything, you mean every fucking detail, and to Wooyoung's credit, he has a great memory and meticulous storytelling.

How long has it been since you started dancing? 20 minutes—or was it two hours? You could swear that Sang and Ueyoung were at your side a minute ago. Or did they leave you alone on the dance floor hours ago?

You can't remember at all.

Your mind is buzzing, your fingertips are tingling, and your heart is pounding against your ribs from the adrenaline rush of matching the beat of some new-fangled track and creating a world of your own inside your body. This sound will vibrate more and more strongly under your skin until your brain ceases to function, allowing you to let go of all the worries in the world and give yourself over completely to the music. Alcohol really does work wonders.

Man, you felt so good.

In the back of your drunken mind, you can't help but wonder if tonight could have gone differently. Probably, but here you are, drunk as hell, huddled with a stranger on a neon dance floor instead of a soft bed in your favorite man's arms. Where the hell did you take the wrong turn? It would seem that something in the universe hasn't gone quite according to plan. Did you have any idea this morning that your sweet, perfect boyfriend would be cheating on you? Correction: he's been cheating on you for a long time. You probably never would have found out if you hadn't come home from couples earlier than usual and continued to be his "convenient girlfriend." Hell, it wasn't nice, and maybe not as hurtful, if he'd been fucking someone else instead of your best friend. Were you that bad? Weren't you good enough? Either way, you've still got time to destroy yourself—maybe tomorrow, maybe never.

Maybe you'll even think about it when you visit the bastard in the hospital. He should have known better than to even think about cheating, and the clotted blood on San's knuckles proved that. Everyone at the university knew that you were Ateez's golden girl, and to mess with you was to mess with them. And since you, Wooyoung, and San were literally glued to each other, it was tantamount to suicide.

At the moment, the only thing that was more upsetting than the image of your ex-boyfriend driving his dick all the way up to his balls into your ex-friend's skinny body was the fact that your beautiful vintage sofa would have to be thrown away. Semen doesn't wash off. You checked.

Hongjoong is going to be absolutely devastated. That sofa was the absolute love of his life.

It's all nothing more than a vague memory of the day gone by, mixed into an indecipherable cacophony of shrill screams and blurred images. To be honest, you don't remember much of the chaos, as Wooyoung pressed your face against his chest with such force that you wouldn't be surprised to see your make-up imprinted on the light fabric of his shirt. All you could hear was loud cursing and the sound of a punch in the face. You hoped that San's punch was strong enough to break the asshole's jaw. And after that, there were a few hours of tears and emotional crisis until they'd had enough and pulled you into this club with a gentle and accepting hand: "Come on, baby, you could use a break and a change of scenery" from San, and "Fuck that scumbag, go show him what he's lost, baby" from Wooyoung. It was an absolute mystery how the two of them synchronized perfectly.

You have no idea what you would do without these two.

A few more minutes go by in this way, until you feel hot hands on your hips, pulling you closer to the hard body on your back. You don't have to turn around to see that it's San; the scent of his perfume, mixed with the sweat and the smoke of a freshly smoked cigarette, makes you dizzy, and you rest your head on his shoulder, taking a deep breath of the intoxicating mixture. Suddenly you want to get as close to him as possible, turn around and press your face against his hard, structured chest, breathing in deeply and sinking into him completely. Your arms reach out behind you and wrap around San's neck, tangling your fingers in the scarlet strands of hair at the nape of his neck. You feel it on your back as the action makes him purr like a cat. You wonder what other sounds you might be able to catch him making.

You shake yourself. The thought of it sends shivers down your arms and makes all the muscles in your lower abdomen tingle.

You should stop. These are bad thoughts. Very bad thoughts.

"Damn, baby girl, how much did you drink while we were away?" Wooyoung's voice is rough and husky, but his touch is gentle and careful as his fingers intertwine with yours. He has always touched you in a way that no other man in the world, with the exception of him and San, has ever been able to touch you. There was no comparison with your ex's touch. Wooyoung's touch is a promise. A promise to protect, to care, and perhaps to love? You could swear you saved the planet in your past life because you have such great friends in this one, or maybe a little more than friends, but you're not sure what to call this feeling.

You had been friends for so long that it wasn't weird not have a crush on Wooyoung or to dream of being married to San. The guy was literally a walking husband; he was second only to Songhwa in that respect, but please, Hwa was the epitome of husband material. You might even have wanted to be in the middle of it, sandwiched between hot bodies while they literally fucked the life out of you. But it was all just thoughts. Fleeting dreams that clung to the edges of your consciousness. You were the type to date, and they were the type to fuck. You were different when it came to loving. In any case, it was all a long time ago. You had a boyfriend, and Wooyoung and San collected girls like Pokémon. Somehow, you were sure that if you slept together, your friendship would end.

You weren't ready for that. With a strength that only Jongho could match, you ignored any romantic feelings for them

"Mmm… Woo, I have no recollection, but I had fun." You licked your lips as if you were trying to taste the lingering taste of the tequila and opened your eyes to stare straight into Wooyoung's face, full of worry. He could have been the biggest bitch if he wanted to be. But for you, that 'maternal' instinct of overprotection has kicked in. You stare at him unblinkingly in that moody light, he looks beautiful, to the point of being stupidly handsome, so damn handsome that you want to pull him to you and kiss him without explanation or reason. And you can do that because you know he's never, ever going to say no to you but kiss you? Wooyoung's tongue will be the first to enter your mouth. He will suck on it like a drunk, and he will hold on to you until there is almost no air left in your lungs.

"We leave you alone, gongjunim, for five minutes, and you're already in trouble. Shall I give you a lesson in obedience?" San is speaking into your ear, loud enough for you to hear him clearly, each word coming through the loud electric bass. His voice is too sultry to be sober enough. Woo probably talked him into a few shots, although he always got drunk pretty easily. The two were threatening each other. And to you as well.

The evil voice inside your head grinned: You know you want it. He's going to punish you for being such a bad, naughty girl. He will teach you to be the best little girl for him and for them and to follow all his rules. He'll make you beg and make you cry…

Fuck, girl, come to your senses. Since when did you start to think with your pussy instead of using your brain? Or do you automatically turn into a horny, over-excited idiot after a break-up? Turn on your brains; they are your best friends.

Completely ignoring San's words, you whimpered:

"I'm thirsty." Your tongue is dry in your mouth, and your lips feel unpleasantly rough as you say the words. It looks like the fun's over for today.

San can't help but laugh at your capricious behavior, and you wriggle restlessly in his arms, trying to free yourself from his firm grip, but he only manages to hold you even tighter. You sigh in annoyance and decide to try your luck with Wooyoung.

"Woo, help me." You whine again, reaching out and pulling Wooyoung closer so that your forehead rests against his collarbone.

He smells good, like sandalwood and vanilla, like home.

Wooyoung lifts your face with his fingertips. The touch is soft and comforting, despite the roar of the music and the crowd of strangers around you. He stares intently into your eyes, almost too serious for your drunken haze. He hopes to find something more than alcohol-induced excitement.

"Come on, baby. It's time to go home." He releases your hand and carefully wipes the sweat from your forehead and cheeks with the sleeve of his shirt, his fingers lingering on your lips for a moment, and you playfully stick out your tongue and lick the pads of his fingers. God, may you not remember this tomorrow.

"But I don't want to…" You purse your lips again. You turn your head towards San, looking for his support. "Sanni, let's stay a bit more." Your big, shining eyes are not making it easy for him, but you were already quite drunk, and judging by the way your body was leaning against him, you could hardly stand properly.

"Wooyoung's right, gongjunim, it's over for you today."

Something wild in you just wants to be a brat and start arguing, but the rational part of your brain wins out. You sigh tiredly and try to wriggle out of his grip, and of course you stumble, grabbing Wooyoung's biceps with your hands in an attempt to stay on your feet and not break your high-heeled leg, which would be a great way to end the night.

A strong arm immediately wraps around your waist. It digs lightly into the exposed skin between your top and your jeans. You can feel the coldness of the thin band of his ring. It actually burns from how sensitive you were now.

"I got you, chagi." San whispers softly and hoarsely into your ear, and you cling even more tightly to Wooyoung's arm as your legs begins to shake, but no longer from the alcohol you've drunk and the tiredness, but from his sultry tone. Damn, was that a saturi, or was it just your imagination?

"We'll be on our way now, for sure." Wooyoung takes your hand once more, pulling it away from his bicep, and quickly leads you through the crowd of sweaty bodies, completely ignoring your feeble protests until you see the flashing exit sign. The red neon sign brings you ominously close to the point where you are left alone with them. And you feel San's heavy presence at your back like never before.

The sounds of the city swallow you up and make you dizzy as Wooyoung opens the heavy metal door. Couples are kissing all over the place. Noisy groups of people are huddled together waiting for a taxi or sharing a single joint, leaving a faint smell of weed in the air. You can still hear the vibrating bass of the music that is pouring out of the club; it echoes in your head in an unpleasant way, with a slight throbbing pain. All of a sudden, all you want to do is find yourself in a warm bed, snuggled up against San or Wooyoung, or even better, against both of them.

San's hand on your waist tenses as you bend over to hail a taxi. Wooyoung's hands come down on your hips, hot and strong, and just like that, you find yourself sandwiched between them, their bodies shielding you safely from the searing cold and dirty stares. You could swear that you can hear Wooyoung swears to himself while a drunk guy is moving his tongue between two spread fingers and looking in your direction. San's body tenses instinctively. What's with all this protection? We're not in some kind of alpha-character romance; you can take care of yourself.

But in spite of that, your body still relaxes, your head leans back against Wooyoung's shoulder, and you rub your face against his like a cat.

"You're so drunk, baby." Woo chuckles and gives you a light kiss on the top of your head. "That's my girl."

My girl, just the sound of that one sentence makes a little fire start in your belly. What the hell is wrong with you today? A week ago, you were rinsing his mouth after Woo drank too much, and now you're ready to lick his mouth from the inside.

Fuck.

All these thoughts make you lose track of what's happening until you feel the smooth leather of the car seat beneath you and the soft touch of San's lips on your bare shoulder. You moan, either from annoyance or excitement. San just smiles and presses his lips harder against you. Finally, you are going home.

You faintly hear Wooyoung giving the Uber driver the coordinates of your apartment complex, your hands intertwining again, relaxing further as Wooyoung's head rests on your shoulder. His long hair tickles the back of your neck.

Sobriety slowly begins to clear your head as the ride continues. You're still drunk, but you're much more aware than before.

"Will you stay with me tonight?" Your voice is low, barely above a whisper, but in the confined space of the car's backseat, they can hear it well. It sets them in motion again, hands clasped around you with renewed confidence. You play mindlessly with the silver rings that adorn Wooyoung's long fingers, and you don't go unnoticed by San's light strokes on the outside of your thigh.

"All for you, chagiya." San whispers back and gives Wooyoung a meaningful look. There's something special between the two of them—a dialogue that is spoken without words but in which they both know exactly what is meant. If only you knew what was going on inside their heads…

You let your hand drop to Wooyoung's muscular thigh and ran the palm of your hand over it a couple of times, feeling the tight muscles under the skin of his trousers. He covers the palm of your hand with his own and squeezes it in a silent, gentle gesture of affection.

"I love you guys…" You whisper, sticking out your tongue to lick your suddenly dry lips. You hear them giggling together before you feel San press his nose against the soft skin of your collarbone, rubbing against it like a cat. He's the ultimate cinnamon bun; how he can be someone who's had sex with half the university is still a mystery to you.

"I love you too, gongjunim." And he means it, like he really loves you—much more than a friend should.

"Mmm, I love you more. You know that, baby." Wooyoung bites the skin on the back of your neck in a playful way, and you feel his wet tongue pressing against the site of the bite for a few seconds.

"You're not sleeping in my bed. Woo, stop it; that tactic won't work on me anymore."

He whimpers back with a puff of his swollen lips, turning his face away from you with an irritated roll of his eyes as you and San laugh, his arms naturally wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to his body so that you're practically sitting on his lap. A faint melody, from some kind of soft track, pours out of the speakers and lulls you into a state of serenity. You find it harder and harder to keep your eyes open. Your body relaxes even more in San's arms.

The next twenty minutes fly by, and you only begin to wake up when the cab door slams behind you and Wooyoung drags you into her flat. The fobs on your keys jingle loudly in the silence of the corridor as San fiddles with them to unlock the door. You sway in Woo's arms as you wait for the door to your apartment to open. The soothing scent of neroli and orchids greets you as you enter, your body automatically relaxing into the safety of your personal space, and you fall wearily into the armchair opposite sofa.

As the door closes, you hear the sound of the boys hurrying down the corridor, taking off their shoes and jackets. You can imagine San carefully placing his shoes next to yours and Wooyoung's one shoe being kicked further down the corridor. So damn different.

Woo sprints into the kitchen, slams the door of the fridge shut, and there is a bottle of cold water in front of your face.

"Here you go, starlight." He sinks to the floor at your feet and leans back against them, resting his head in your lap as he does so. You run your fingers through his long black hair, brushing it away from his face, and meet his gaze with your own. It's familiar; away from the deafening music and the sweaty crowd, you feel much better now, despite the fact that a few hours ago your ex was fucking your friend on the couch across the hall. This is still your home, and you're sure that in a few days your entire apartment will be taken apart and put back together by the caring hands of Seonghwa and Yeosang, when there won't be a trace of your failed past relationships left. "Are you okay?" San asks, leaning against the doorjamb.

"I'm… fine, yeah. Probably not as good as I'd like to be, but I'll be fine; it'll just take some time. At the moment, I'm just tired of it all."

"Go take a shower, sweetie; San and I will take care of the rest." Wooyoung says as he gets up from the floor and pulls the leather jacket off of his shoulders. The wide collar of his black t-shirt shows the tattoo on his back. You always found that part of him extremely sexy.

You rise from your chair, grimacing at the pain in your legs after so many hours in high heels. Your top falls to the floor as you take it off, the lace of your black lingerie clinging to your body like a second skin. They've seen you naked more than once or twice, and in any case, you're not one of those cute girls who blushes at every opportunity. You have to struggle to pull your jeans down your legs because they are so tight around your arse. The next thing to come off is your underwear, which you leaves halfway to the toilet somewhere. You let them take care of that too.

The level of intimacy that you have with San and Wooyoung is so high that it virtually erases any barrier to acceptable standards of friendship. Years of shared memories, from when you started high school to when you practically star graduates of Seoul National University. God, the things you've done and the situations you've been in—it's been a hectic time. The three of you literally know each other to your bones—sharing habits, feelings, clothes, and even some sexual practices under the influence of alcohol and chance. You've seen them fuck; they've held your hair when you've puked, helped with periods, you've seen them jerking off in the morning or heard them moaning loudly in the bathroom, you all watched porn together—it's all been part of your friendship. In a way, the three of you have been completely and utterly shameless.

You close the bathroom door and stare wearily at your reflection in the large mirror. Your hair is disheveled from those beautiful waves there's not a trace, your skin is glistening with sweat, your make-up looks messy—a bit of smudged eyeliner, smeared lipstick—and in general, you look like you've been beaten up. The pupils of your eyes are dilated, even though you're still feeling sleepy, and there's a bit of puffiness under your eyes from previous tantrum.

Wow, you look like a real mess. You turn away from the mirror, turn on the tap of water, and sink back into your usual daily routine. The water cleanses not only your body but also your mind, spectacularly washing away all the memories and regrets of the day.

It seems to be at least a minute before you hear the sound of a heavy knock on the door. San's voice is muffled over the sound of water and steam, rough, husky, and incredibly sexy, sending electric shocks through your body and unexpected heat building between your thighs. Your fingers turn the handle, stopping the water from flowing, and you take a few long breaths, trying to get rid of this strange feeling. What's wrong with you today?

"Chagi, are you okay?"

You mooed in response, stepped out of the shower, and wrapped the towel around your body before opening the door to face him. He's standing across the bathtub, slumped against the wall, so soft and fluffy, when you open the door. San has changed into a pair of loose pajamas, which are very cute, according to your taste. He has washed off his make-up and generally looks more like an adorable bun than the voluptuous demon he is supposed to be at the university.

"What the hell took you so long? Wooyoung's already starting to climb the wall from here." He whimpers with a pucker on his lips.

"I needed some time to myself, Sanni."

He bites his bottom lip before nodding. His burning gaze travels over you from head to toe, lingering a little longer than usual on your thighs and breasts, and your body heats up at the sensation. When your eyes meet, there is an emotion that you are unfamiliar with that hovers just above the surface of his gleaming dark irises. Something predatory flashes across his face, just for a second, but it's enough to make your skin tingle with an unknown sense of anticipation.

"Just a few more minutes, and then I'll be on my way, all right? Tell Wooyoung to be a little more patient."

"Alright."

You step back into the tub, close the door behind you, and press your back against the wall. You bite your lips, trying to hold back a groan of disappointment. It's not that after all these years of friendship you've never felt sexually aroused in their presence; after all, Wooyoung and San were so damn attractive and even flirtatious to the point of insanity, they fit the cliché of lusty, popular boys at university so well.

Perhaps you had once or twice wondered what it would be like to be close to one of them, or even better, both of them—what their bodies would feel like and what their tastes would be like. Yet, consciously ignoring any romantic urges in their direction, you buried those thoughts deep in the back of your mind. You didn't want to think about how beautiful San's smile was, with those sweet dimples, or how your skin burned under Woo's playful, incessant kisses. But those were only fragmentary thoughts, a dangerous feeling creeping into your heart.

For a while your hunger for them was satisfied by a succession of boy toys until you found yourself a steady boyfriend, well until you caught him with one of your girlfriends tonight. Either way, the sex was hardly satisfying enough to get too upset about, but still, the ache in your heart and your bottom-punched self-esteem stung like a bitch.

But today there was something different between the three of you; on a day like any other, there was a different feeling. It wasn't anything special; San's tearful face had been tucked between your breasts more than once or twice after another romantic fiasco, and Wooyoung had been a complete fool in love, getting burned so many times because he wore his heart on his sleeve. You have been friends long enough to know how to comfort each other after breaking up. You have never experienced such a tension between the three of you before.

There was a barely perceptible change in the air; there was an electric tension in the chemistry between you; a crackle in the air like a thunderstorm was about to break. The storm was coming at a furious pace, and you weren't sure if you were going to be able to handle it. To end up between them was like voluntarily stepping into a hurricane rated at twelve. Was that what you wanted? You probably did. Did they want it? There was no way of knowing. Would things have changed if you'd fucked, yes, of course, but would you have had a 'happily ever after', you weren't so sure.

You brush your hair with your fingertips, hissing in pain when you can't untangle the tangled locks, and continue this compulsive action as you step out of the suddenly claustrophobic space of the bathroom. The corridor is cold, and the change in temperature causes goose bumps to run down the length of your skin. Cold air climbs under the towel's edges, clinging uncomfortably to your tender inner thighs.

"I left some fresh clothes for you on the dresser next to the bathtub. Didn't you notice?" San asks. His pronunciation is as simple as if he hadn't been the one who just a few minutes ago ate you alive with his eyes. He is sitting on the arm of the chair Wooyoung is comfortably ensconced in, mindlessly scrolling through social media.

The couch, which was once your favorite place to be, is clearly in disuse. You're already anticipating Hongjoong's endless complaints about it. That couch was the love of his life.

Wooyoung has changed his clothes too; there's no trace of the seductive college hottie left; the stretchy top of the oversized shirt slipping off his shoulders to expose his collarbones made him look so tiny and cuddly; and the soft disheveled hair falling over his face gave his features something adorably puppyish. They both looked homely and terribly comfortable, as if this was legitimately their home and not yours, as if their place had always been here, the space they belonged to.

"It's stuffy. I don't want to get dressed." You reply, pulling the towel tighter around your chest. You actually contradict yourself by wrapping your arms around yourself, but you don't want to explain anything to them either.

"Personally, I like it all; you can keep going, baby."

"Of course you like it, Woo; we all know about your love for exhibitionism." You say this nonchalantly and let your body fall into Wooyoung's lap, not caring that you're actually naked under the towel or that his shirt is getting wet as the water from your wet hair drips onto it. You're trapped between their bodies again, and you'd be lying if you said you didn't like the feeling. You savor his scent and the feel of his smooth skin as your face sinks into the curve of Woo's neck.

You all sink into a nice, relaxing silence as the boys scroll through endless social media feeds, your eyes grow heavier, and the need for sleep becomes more palpable. But you love it so much—just being around them, not thinking about anything else, feeling the way San's fingers play with your hair while you twirl the rings on Woo's fingers—that you probably have a fetish for his hands. Anyway, you don't mind.

Minutes go by like this, slowly approaching an hour. You feel content and warm as you sit on Wooyoung's gorgeous muscular thighs. He is humming something to himself, drawing scattered patterns with his fingertips on your bare thigh. Your lips press against Woo's neck, leaving a sweet kiss on his skin. He squirms beneath you, his fingers clenching tighter and tighter on your thigh. God, he's so hot.

"You're so needy, kitten," San says with laughter before you feel his lips on your shoulder. It's not a chaste, friendly kiss; no, his lips are wet with saliva, open so you can feel the scorching breath and his tongue tip gliding across your skin in slow motion. San is licking you like a cat, damn it.

"Is this a side effect of the break-up or something like that? Look at you, Peach. You're a horny mess." Wooyoung raises an eyebrow in curiosity and pulls you closer to his chest. You slide down his thighs, and the towel scratches a little higher, a little more, and they can easily see your pussy. At that thought, the familiar throbbing between your legs reminds you just how wet you are, the viscous, clear liquid threatening to run down the inside of your thighs and stain Woo's clothes.

Praying that neither of them will notice how flushed and horny you feel at this moment, you squeeze your legs together and slide your hand down to pull the towel further down your legs, as far down as possible in this position.

You're so thirsty; the lust is bubbling just beneath the surface of your skin, and the heady mix of their scent and the residual alcohol in your blood is making you feel like such a needy slut.

The rational part of your brain tells you that you should be in a completely different state right now—a mess of tears and snot, probably on the verge of a complete nervous breakdown. Somewhere between the self-destruction of your own self-esteem and a crisis of identity, But here you are, practically naked in Woo's arms, with an obscenely wet pussy and no shame whatsoever.

In contrast to the'real' half of you, something small and evil urged you to go further, to spread your legs, to expose yourself shamelessly, to ride Wu's thigh and have a hot rodeo until you couldn't cum any more, and then let San use you however he wanted; you don't mind at all being a chew toy for him. Hell, boy, all you want to do is let him fuck your brains out.

You sink your teeth into your lower lip with force; the taste of blood is almost in your mouth.

"Fuck me. I want to sleep, baby. You can use me. Let's go to bed."You whine, puffing up your cheeks.

"Okay, okay, baby, let's put the princess to bed." San lifts you from your place on Woo's lap and pulls you tightly against his chest, and you can clearly feel every ripple of muscle on that perfect body. When did he have time to get that big?

He carries you into the bedroom like a princess. Wooyoung's shuffling footsteps can be heard behind you, and you throw your head back to meet his gaze.

"We had a change of sheets. Personally, I'm in favor of burning all his stuff."

"Have I told you I love you?"

"Mmm, let me think. Maybe just a few thousand times." He gives you a cheeky smile, and you laugh.

"Love, love, love, love, I love you so much. You're the best boys in the world. You sing with a big smile on your face, and the sound of their laughter fills the bedroom.

"We love you too; we love you so much."

If you weren't so drunk and tired, your brain might have been able to process Wooyoung's changed intonation, but you completely ignored any possible hint of how they felt about you.

San gently laid you down on the bed, and Woo's lithe body crawled beside you, snuggling against your side, hugging you like his personal teddy bear.

"Woo, let her go; she has to put on some clothes." He pulls off his T-shirt and holds the soft fabric out in front of you. Your hands lazily crumple it up in an attempt to decide whether or not to put it on, but the boys decide for you.

Wooyoung sits you down and holds you tightly by the waist while San pulls the T-shirt over your head and pulls off the towel at the same time. You are still naked, but you are a bit more decent now.

"You're such good friends. I wish I could date someone like you." You lie back down, and Woo's hands paddle you again, as if it's his natural reflex. You're not aware of the exchange of glances between the two of them. The silent conversation that goes on between them is completely ignored.

"Hmm, someone like us?" San sits down on the bed in front of you, and in an instant, your fingers cling to his naked chest. You want so badly to sink your teeth into the smooth, bulging muscles of his chest. "Baby, aren't you afraid we're going to be jealous?"

"You and jealousy, come on. I went out with Suho, and none of you minded."

"It's because the idiot has a tiny dick." With an evil giggle, Woo whispers in your ear.

"Wooyoung!"

"He's right, chagia. When was the last time you had an orgasm?"

"San, not you too." You whine and give him a light tap on the shoulder.

"Well, if you were with someone like us, you'd know what it means to have a good fuck. We'd fuck your brains out, baby."

"Jung Wooyoung, wash your filthy mouth. San, tell him." You call out to your more rational friend in a resentful tone to calm Woo down.

"Well, I can't say that he's wrong. You won't be on foot for days after we are." The grin on San's face is so predatory that you can't tell that it's your sweet himbo friend. It's making the muscles at the bottom of your stomach clench in anticipation of this promise.

"You do know that I used to sleep with Yunho before I started dating Suho, right? You can hardly come as a surprise to me; he's very good."

"We know." Woo hissed in annoyance, and his arms tightened around you, planting his foot on your thigh and completely cutting off any attempt you might have made to pull away from him, even if you wanted to.

"But we're so much better." A hot palm slides just over your waist near to Wooyoung's hand, practically covering your breasts. You feel the full weight of it on your body.

"In your dreams."

For a few moments, you close your eyes and fall silent. The comforting silence lulls you to sleep, but there is one thought that keeps you from falling completely into a deep slumber. With a groan, you come back to reality, blinking slowly as your brain forms the words that seem to be too heavy on the tip of your tongue—heavy, but so damned sweet.

"I wanna… I mean, let's have threesome."

"Sorry, what!" Wooyoung almost yells, sitting up in bed in an instant and staring at you with his eyes wide open. If the situation wasn't so serious, you could laugh at his shocked expression. "Is it an offer for sex? Right now?"

"Jesus, Wooyoung, just let me finish." You sit down as well and take each one of them by the hand. "We graduate next year, and if… if we are all free and you don't mind, maybe we can have threesomes."

"I'm ready. Why wait?" Woo clings to you like a leech. He presses every inch of his body against you so tightly that you practically melt into each other. His skin is hot, and you can feel his breath brushing against your ear and his lips touching it as he speaks. "Come, Y/N, we can do this now. I'm going to take you to heaven."

"Wooyoung, I'm serious."

You have to look at San, who's been silent the whole time. The look in his eyes is so dark, full of lust and hunger. It doesn't leave you for a second.

"San…"

"I'll do anything for you, Y/N."

"I'll be ready for you in a year if you're still willing. Now get out of the room, the both of you. Tonight I'll be alone in bed."

You push them off the bed, San rolls over on the floor with a clatter, and Wooyoung jumps up like a man who has been scalded.

"But chagi…" He whines, loud and nasty, as San drags him out of the room.

"Sweet dreams, gongjunim." That's the last thing you hear before the door slams shut behind them and you're left alone in the bedroom.

You can hear their muffled voices coming from the hallway, trying so hard to keep quiet. Wooyoung's incessant complaining, mixed with San's low muttering, effectively lulls you to sleep. You probably won't even remember tonight, let alone this stupid proposal, but little do you know that neither San nor Wooyoung have any intention of letting you forget.

You are going to have a very funny year in front of you.

2K notes · View notes

haetrack · 2 months

Text

HOW IT ALL GOES | MASTERLIST

there are millions of love songs in the world. though they all speak of the same thing, they’re not all the same. love can be happy, sad, exciting, or just shown physically. love is different for everyone. there’s a song for every story, for every person who experiences love.

starring: haechan, mark, jaehyun, jaemin, and renjun!

general warnings: fluff, angst, and smut (not all fics will contain smut, so minors be aware!) fics will be tagged with their specific warnings! general yearning, heartbreak, happy and sad endings

note: the fics are not connected to each other! they can be read as stand alone fics but i hope you stay to read them all! synopses and tags might be changed during the writing process!

side note: if you would like to be tagged, please send in an ask or comment on this post!

I. (lucky for you) we’re just friends

best friend!haechan x reader

synopsis: haechan is someone who always gets what he wants. he’s willing to do anything, but now, he realizes, he doesn’t know what to do. will you, his best friend of many years, let him step into your life where he hasn’t before? do you think about him as much as he does you? or will it all slip away, along with all his memories with you. (angst, little fluff)

side a: like a friend - pulp

side b: now playing

II. no clue

one night stand!mark lee x reader

synopsis: when mark realizes how long it’s been since he’s gotten laid, he rushes out to a party. he’s quick to find someone, rushing into a room without really thinking about it. when he sees you laid under him, it clicks that he might just like you, a stranger. he tries looking for you all over campus, wanting to talk to you. how long will it take for you both to meet? do you even want to meet him? (smut, fluff, little angst)

side a: tongues - the frights

side b: now playing

III. your fate, my karma

fwb!jaehyun x reader

synopsis: jaehyun realizes he’s in love with you. it’s fucked, especially because he rejected you once before. he doesn’t want to ruin what he has with you, more importantly, the friendship he has with you. he can’t help it, not with how you look at him, how you smile, how you feel. it’s like he was made to see and touch you. he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold in his secret. (smut, angst, little fluff)

side a: somethin’ stupid - frank sinatra

side b: flip over?

IV. can it last forever?

boyfriend!jaemin x reader

synopsis: after many successful dates, jaemin finally asked to be your boyfriend. you were so happy in the beginning, but doubts begin to fill your head. jaemin is a loving boyfriend, but you can’t help but wonder if you deserve him. did you go into this too fast? what if this is all you have? will you be able to make him happy? (fluff, angst, suggestive)

side a: valentine - laufey

side b: flip over?

V. all to myself

acquaintance!renjun x reader

synopsis: renjun hates how all you’ve been doing is talking about another man. usually, he wouldn’t really mind. but now, he realizes the only reason why he hates it is because he likes you. you’re a friend of a friend, and he’s not sure how he’s supposed to get closer to you if all you’re thinking about someone else. (fluff, smut)

side a: eastside - daisy

side b: flip over?

a/n: im so excited for this series HOORAY!!! i hope u guys are as excited as i am when i start releasing them :3 i also recommend listening to the songs i put!! the fics were inspired by them and lay out the overall feel i want the fics to have! enjoy reading :p

#nct fic #nct smut #nct scenarios #nct dream smut #nct 127 smut #nct angst #haechan fic #haechan angst #mark lee fic #mark lee smut #jaehyun fic #jaehyun smut #jaemin fic #jaemin smut #renjun fic #renjun fluff #hiag

561 notes · View notes

saetoru · 2 years

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#TOP OF THE CLASS! — GETO SUGURU.

「 SYNOPSIS 」 ⋮ geto + virgin killing - your TA is nice, and more importantly, handsome. accidentally sending him nudes makes you realise he's also inexperienced

♱ kinktober ⋮ find the masterlist here !!

♱ pairing ⋮ college TA! geto suguru x student! reader

♱ length ⋮ 5.5k words (she tried okay. she did)

♱ contents ⋮ nsfw and 18+ content, fem! reader, college! au, TA! geto, student! reader, med! student shoko, forging of legal documents (shoko forges you a doctor’s note lol), mentions of drinking + being under the influence, unprofessional relationships, explicit photography (taking + accidentally sending nudes), virgin! + inexperienced! geto, semi-public sex (in a campus office), teasing, humiliation, mentions of male masturbation, handjobs, blowjobs, nipple play, fingering, riding, praise kink, unprotected sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, overstimulation

♱ notes ⋮ here is the first kinktober post i hope you all enjoy and HAPPY OCTOBER ITS MY FAV SEASON

the first rule of being a college student is having good time management. that should’ve been something you remembered before saving this paper for the last minute—because now you’re beginning to regret overestimating your ability to finish all the research and the required components and hit the word count. and then you have to cite your sources—which is a pain, and the clock isn’t slowing even a little as it ticks away closer and closer to the deadline.

you’re doomed, finished for the semester before you could’ve even fully begun. you’re counting your moments to failure for a class you absolutely need to graduate. this paper is thirty percent of your grade—how could you have been so careless as to leave it so last minute?

“it’s useless,” you moan woefully into your phone, making shoko snort as you hear her continue to type away on her keyboard. it hits you that if shoko of all people is further along her paper than you—the same shoko that cheats on everything—then you’ve really let yourself go. “i’m never going to finish this on time,” you mutter.

“i told you to get started earlier,” she says matter of factly, almost with enough i told you so energy in her voice that you’re two seconds from storming over to her apartment and smashing her laptop to bits. but shoko has a point—even if you refuse to acknowledge it since…well, it’s shoko, after all.

“i’m not on call with you to lecture me,” you grumble, “i’m on call with you to help me find a solution. you think if i offer the TA a blow job, he’ll give me an A?”

shoko snorts, pausing her typing as if she’s actually contemplating the idea. “maybe, honestly. you know he’s our age, and he’s like years ahead of us? probably too busy with school to get any bitches,” she laughs, making you roll your eyes as a smile tugs at your lips no matter how hard you try to fight it.

“you know what, you might be right,” you chuckle. you almost feel bad for joking at his expense—your TA is nice, he’s young and kind and understanding, he takes time to slowly go over things when people have questions, he answers emails politely and quickly no matter how stupid the reason, he and has sensible rules that aren’t too strict. and, if you’re being honest, he’s rather handsome. “i wouldn’t mind giving him a blow job though,” you hum, “he’s cute.”

“gross,” shoko gags, “geto suguru is not cute.”

“he is too,” you argue, furrowing your brows as you huff, “he’s probably one of the few men i’ve seen who make a man bun work. and i know he’s ripped under that sweater, he has to be. i saw him leave the gym the other day, and his arms were huge.”

“he’s probably just trying to get bitches,” shoko snorts, “i bet he’s a virgin.”

“shut up,” you laugh, and for a moment, your mind wanders to your stupidly handsome TA.

you shouldn’t be thinking about him this way—fantasizing about anyone who grades your papers is a line you shouldn't really cross, but you can’t help it. your thoughts turn into what hearing his smooth, deep voice would be like if he moaned into your ear, or what his bangs would look like stuck to his sweaty forehead, or what his abs would look like clenching as he cums, or how breathless he’d sound as he whispers your name—

“wait, i just had an idea,” shoko interrupts your thinking with a gasp, making you shake out of your (very dirty) thoughts as you blink.

you clear your throat, trying your best not to sound flustered as you speak. “i’m scared to ask what the idea is—you’re not really known for having good ones,” you say warily. you can practically see her eyes roll without her being there with you—you’ve been friends with shoko long enough to know her like the back of your hand. and if you know her like you think you do, her idea is about to cause you a lot of stress.

“well, looks like i’m never trying to help you again,” she scoffs, “i could’ve written you a doctor’s note with a few of the copies i managed to snatch—but since you don’t want my help—”

“no, wait! you’re a genius,” you gasp happily, grinning wide as shoko huffs through the phone and mutters something faintly similar to ungrateful under her breath, “i could kiss you on the lips right now.”

“no thank you. you suck,” she hisses. you only giggle, relief flooding through your bones that maybe your grade is saved—and all thanks to having a friend who works in a doctor’s office. you silently send the universe your gratitude for having your best friend pursue a career in the medical field—the perks prove to be quite beneficial, it seems.

“just send me a picture of it and make it seem like i’m too sick to work on the paper, and i’ll tell him i won’t finish in time. a one day extension should be enough.”

“where would you be without me,” she grumbles quietly, “i’ll send it to you in a second. now please let me finish my paper in peace.”

“okay. love you, you’re the best.”

“i hate you.” the line clicks and you giggle, happily celebrating that you most likely have a saved grade and a free night to yourself now that shoko has so kindly offered you a solution. and of course, you’ll take this as a learning curve and appropriately plan to give yourself enough time for the next paper.

it’s not long before your phone dings and shoko’s contact pops up on your screen with, sure enough, a doctor’s note with today’s date and reason for the visit. shoko has even taken the liberty to make you seem contagious—just so you can skip class tomorrow for good measure. beaming, you text a quick thanks bestie <3 in response—too happy to even care that she sends you an emoji flipping you off.

and it doesn’t take you long to craft the email either, making sure to properly address him with a greeting, adding apologies for the inconvenience—and as the icing on the cake, a promise that it won’t ever happen again in the future. you click the photo to upload the doctor’s note, and without even a second thought, you click send.

and then within the split second that the email sends, and you realize just which photo you’ve accidentally clicked, your life flashes before your eyes.

“no,” you mumble, “no no no,” you chant as you quickly open the email you’ve sent, eyes wide and throat dry.

the photo is not the picture of the doctor’s note shoko sent—instead, it’s the picture right under it in your camera roll. the picture that’s not very suitable for sending your TA. the picture of your tits, just barely covering your nipples with your arm. the picture you took through giggles while changing after getting a little tipsy the night before (you’d felt just a tad bit sexy in your makeup.)

you sit in silent shock as you register that you just sent your TA your nudes—and just to make matters worse, he responds almost instantly, making your heart drop as you stare at his emailed reply with a shaky hand holding up your phone.

please meet me in my office tomorrow before class so we can discuss the above email.

suddenly, your worries are a lot more complicated than simply failing a class.

———————————————

you barely slept the night before, if at all, to be completely honest with yourself. the worst-case scenario runs through your head the entire time you toss and turn in bed. geto is probably going to report this, and then you’ll get expelled, and then you’ll never make it with a successful career, and then you’ll never be able to show your face to anyone you know again.

your feet are as heavy as lead as they drag along the walk to his room, and you contemplate turning back and never showing up to his office, maybe simply even just refusing to ever return to campus at all. maybe you can move countries and start over somewhere else—maybe you can change your name and make a new life for yourself.

but instead, you take a deep breath and knock on the door, waiting until you hear a soft come in before you enter. geto is seated at the desk, typing away at his laptop before meeting your eyes as you walk in.

“uh…hi,” you start, standing awkwardly by the door.

“hello,” he says, eyeing you slightly before looking back at his screen. if he has any ill feelings about last night, he does a good job of hiding it—you can’t read a single emotion on his face. somehow, that makes things worse. “have a seat,” he gestures at the chair across from him on the other side of the desk, waiting for you to seat yourself nervously in front of him.

you sit down, watching as he opens his mouth to start—but you begin speaking before he can. “look, i know that email was really inappropriate, and i’m really sorry—it was an accident, i swear! i meant to click on the picture above it, and i didn’t realize—”

“i understand,” he cuts you off as he holds a hand up, offering you a kind smile that makes you tilt your head in confusion, “it’s fine.” fine. fine? he’s…just fine with it? he’s just willing to let you off the hook? “i’m not much older than you,” he chuckles, “i’m not foreign to these things. i’m sure you’re active in…that aspect of your life.”

oh god—why you? why of all people did this have to be you? why is the world so hellbent on making your life miserable in every aspect?

you eye the coiled wires of the phone on his desk, and you contemplate strangling yourself with them before he can say something anymore embarrassing. but, you have to admit—this is far better than being told you’ve been reported to the dean for misconduct.

“i’m really sorry if it made you uncomfortable,” you fiddle with your fingers as you avoid his gaze, “i really did mean to send you a doctor’s note. i just didn’t realize i hit the picture under it.”

“like i said, it’s okay,” he reassures. calm. he’s almost too calm about this. too okay with it. almost like…like he didn’t mind at all in the first place.“but i wanted to make sure you’re aware of how fragile photos like that are.”

“huh?” you raise a brow. now, this is not where you expected the conversation to steer. you expected a lecture on how sending an educator your explicit photos is highly unprofessional, that it’s unacceptable and suggests other things—things that are completely against the rules and completely out of question to even consider.

“i mean, photos like those getting into the wrong hands can lead to really bad predicaments,” geto continues, clearing his throat as he closes his laptop and meets your gaze. he looks you dead in the eye as he speaks his next words, “and i wouldn’t want sensitive content of you circulating around campus.”

“right,” you nod slowly, “it’s not like i send them around, or anything. i was just a bit drunk that night, and i was in my room bored, and my makeup was cute so i was feeling good about myself…and…and…yeah…” you trail off.

why are you even explaining this to him in such detail? you silently curse yourself in your head, beating yourself up for running your mouth so much.

“oh, that’s good to know,” he nods, “i’m glad to hear that. no one else has possession of these photos?”

you eye him slowly, “nope,” you confirm. “just you—by accident, of course.”

you’re not sure if you imagine it, or if the situation as a whole is making you overinterpret everything that’s happening—but you’re almost certain you hear his breath hitch a little. he’s no longer looking at you, no longer burning you under his gaze like he was just a minute ago.

“right, by accident,” he repeats. it’s slow, like he’s reminding himself, like he has to speak slowly to process the information. “well, i hope this serves as a lesson for being more careful next time. you don’t want young men to save such pictures of yourself for ulterior motives.”

geto suguru, your teacher’s assistant for intro to literature 1301, seems to be rather invested in your well-being—more than a TA really should be. if you didn’t know any better, you’d say he’s almost disappointed that you sent him a significantly revealing photo of yourself by accident instead of intentionally. and, if you squint just a little, it almost seems like he doesn’t want anyone else to have the pictures. not because he’s concerned for you—but rather, because he wants to be the only one who’s seen them.

your thoughts from last night come flooding back, how he’s probably well built under his shirt, how shoko thinks he’s still a virgin, and especially how he probably looks and sounds when he’s overwhelmed with pleasure. and geto suguru might think he has you cornered like a cat would a mouse, but what he doesn’t know is that you’ve been the serpent the whole time, fangs ready to sink into him and devour him whole.

“you know, you seem like you speak from experience,” you can’t help but grin slightly.

now, logically speaking, this is wrong—this is pushing the kindness he so graciously showed you. by now, you should be fighting back tears as you figure out a way to break the news to everyone you know that you’ve had to receive an expulsion for sending your TA nudes. by now, your life should’ve been at an all time low, so you really shouldn’t be testing your luck.

but geto has practically seen your tits, so you’re not really sure there’s any point in acting like an angel around him—and he’s so incredibly hot in that button up shirt of his, sleeves rolled halfway up his arm. plus, the thought of him being your inexperienced TA, one who lets you strip him of his innocence as you slowly taint his purity—it excites you a little more than it really should.

he clears his throat, not meeting your eyes. this time, yours bore into him through a searing gaze that almost makes him shift uncomfortably.

“well, like i said, i am around your age, so i know how men’s minds work when it comes to these things—”

“so then tell me,” you raise a brow, smirking slightly as his jaw clenches, “is it because your mind works the same way?”

“now—”

“did you save my tit pics to your phone?” you ask bluntly. he hides the choked cough through a clearing of his throat—bingo, you think. almost instantly, the room shifts to him being nervous under your gaze as you eye him smugly.

something about sweet, kind, successful geto suguru, young and ambitious with a perfect gpa and a flawless resume, being hot and bothered by your breasts makes you swell with pride—and you think maybe…maybe giving him a blow job might not be such an outlandish thought after all.

maybe he wants it to be a reality just as badly as you do.

“w-what are you implying—”

“did they turn you on?” you interrupt, watching as his cheeks heat up a slight flush of pink, “did you wish i’d moved my arm down so you could get the full view?” he clears his throat, opening his mouth to speak, but you don’t give him the chance. “was that the first nude you’ve ever been sent?”

“i think that’s enough,” he says sternly, but his voice is slightly higher in pitch—which tells you everything you need to know. and you’re enthused. “keep in mind, i could have every intention to notify the dean of these—”

“but suguru,” you pout, rolling his first name off your tongue so sweetly, he can’t help but be hungry for another taste of something so decadent, “if you tattle on me, you’ll never get a chance to actually see my nipples this time,” you giggle, “isn’t that what you want?”

“i—”

“i wonder,” you grin wickedly, “did you act like every other guy our age and jack off to a random girl’s tits?”

you must hit close to home because he lets out a shaky exhale, jaw tight and fists clenched as his knuckles turn pale. he swallows thickly before finally meeting your eyes, face a deep shade of crimson as you grin at him widely.

“i…i’m not…immune to things of that nature,” he finally admits, voice strained as your grin widens. almost instantly, you’re standing up, locking the door behind you and making your way over to his side of the desk without hesitation. the cards have been dealt in your hand, all that’s left is to play them—and you’re pleased to say that the game is heavily leaning in your favor.

“wanna show me?” you ask with a sultry voice, “wanna show me how you fucked your fist last night? i’ll even let you see my nipples this time around,” you murmur as you seat yourself on his lap.

geto scoots his chair back and makes room for you, breathing heavily as his pants strain with the tent already forming in them. his breath hitches when your hand rubs over his erection—and he curses himself for being so pathetic as to let a few words from you let him get riled up like this. but you’re so pretty—always have been.

you sit in class and chew on the top of your pen, making it hard to avert his attention from your mouth. you tilt your head and furrow your brows so cutely when you’re confused, making it hard for him to concentrate on what he’s teaching. you laugh so sweetly out of glee when you do something correctly, and your voice shoots right through his heart—and sometimes, as ashamed as he is to admit it, straight to his dick too.

and he’s well aware of how bad of an idea this is, but this is everything he’s ever dreamt about—right here under the palm of his hands. literally. so he grips your hips tightly, bringing you to rub over him through your own pants. the friction makes him throw his head back, moaning quietly as your clothed cunt drags along his length. you chuckle, palms gliding over his chest through his shirt and feeling the firm muscle under your hands.

“does that feel good?” you ask, making him stifle a whimper as you glide over his nipples through his shirt.

your hands move to unzip his pants—and the best part? he lets you. he sits back and lets you free his aching cock from its confinements, he lets you wrap your fingers around his thick girth and squeeze gently, and he lets you pull the soft, low moans you’ve fantasized of hearing from his lips as you smear his pre cum along his shaft and stroke him slowly.

“f-fuck,” he grunts, hips bucking into your hand, lips tugging between his teeth as he pants harshly with every squeeze at the base of his cock. and because you really can’t help it, you lean down to kiss along his jaw, making your way to his neck and nibbling at his skin. he groans, whispering your name—it makes your thighs squeeze together as a dull ache forms between your own legs. “feels…feels so good,” he mumbles breathlessly, “so different when you do it.”

you giggle, watching him carefully so as not to miss a single reaction. “oh yeah? you know, shoko said you were probably a virgin,” you purr against his ear, making his hands clutch onto your hips tighter, “you seem to be proving that theory right.”

“d-don’t stop,” he pleads when your hand slows, making his hips thrust sloppily into your fist and try to keep your earlier pace going. but you’re mean—just a tad bit cruel, and you wanna see him ooze with shame. so you squeeze on his cock, stilling the movement and making him rasp as he buries his head into your neck with a whine.

“are you a virgin, suguru?” you hum, stroking his hair soothingly—but it contradicts the teasing tone of your voice.

his face burns in your neck, “yes,” he mumbles quietly, like the admission stings.

“how cute,” you pout, “so no one’s ever sucked your dick before?” he shakes his head slowly into the crook of your neck—but it’s not nearly as satisfying when he’s hiding, so you pull his face away despite his initial protesting. “i want to hear it,” you say firmly.

“fuck—no,” he groans, his face an even deeper shade of red than you thought was possible, “no, no one has ever…you know…”

“sucked your dick?” you grin.

“stop,” he whines. you chuckle quietly before climbing off his lap and sinking down to your knees before him, looking up at his shocked face with a smirk.

“wanna know something?” you hum, “i’ve thought about sucking your dick.”

“thinking about you TA like that?” he huffs a chuckle—but whatever semblance of composure he had, he loses as soon as you press a gentle kiss to the tip of his flushed cock, reddened and swollen at the head as beads of pre cum leak from the slit.

“just like you jack off to your student,” you shoot back, “you want it, suguru? do you want me to make you feel good?”

“god—yes,” he hisses, “get on with it,” he says as he’s throwing you a glare when you snicker up at him from in between his legs. you run your tongue along the tip, humming as you take in the taste of him before wrapping your lips around him and taking him down your throat.

the reaction is instant—geto slumps back against his chair, gasping as you swallow around him, bobbing your head up and down his length. you loosen your jaw, fucking him with your mouth, letting your tongue drag along the thick vein running across the underside of his cock. his hand falls to the top of your head while the other grips the armrest of his chair, skin turning white over his knuckles as he tightens his hold with each time the warmth of your mouth swallows around him.

“oh—g-god, shit that’s it,” he grunts, hips bucking into your throat as you pick up your pace. “feels fuckin’ amazing—oh, fuck.”

your hand wraps around the base of his member, pumping what won’t fit in your mouth so no part of him is left neglected. and when your other hand reaches for his balls, rolling the sensitive sacs in your hand and squeezing gently, he rewards you with a whine, voice lilting off to a high pitched moan as his hips thrust up instinctively. your nose brushes against his pelvis, and with a few more swallows, you feel him twitch in your mouth.

“fuck, fuck, ‘m c-close,” he pants, chest falling and rising erratically. you look up, watching through teary eyes as spit and pre cum dribble down your chin, taking in the pretty sight of his face flushed and his skin damp, bangs clinging to his forehead just like you imagined them to. “don’t stop—’m gonna cum…gonna…gonna make me cum,” he rasps.

you moan around him, and the vibrations send him over the edge, hips raising as he groans loudly. hot, thick ropes of his cum paint your mouth, seeping past your lips and dripping down your chin as you try your best to swallow what you can. geto sounds better than you expected—voice deep and raspy, but still the same smoothness it always holds even through the cracks as he brokenly calls your name.

the sound of his voice as he moans your name makes your walls clench around nothing and your clit throb. you let him fuck himself into your mouth through his high, riding out the last waves of his orgasm as pleasure burns through every nerve and every inch of him. when he finally slumps back into his chair, breathing harshly, you pull off of his cock, wiping the mess from your chin on your sleeve. and before you can open your mouth to tease him some more, you’re pulled back onto his lap, his mouth on yours, kissing you deep.

“this’ll have to be a secret,” he mumbles, “for both of us.”

for someone who’s never done anything like this before, geto rids you of your clothes almost expertly, lifting your shirt over your arms and sliding your pants off in an instant. he groans when his fingers trace over your clit—which you’re happy to know he can find—and feels the wetness of your slick drooling over the fabric.

“c’mon, suguru,” you hum, voice edging on a little impatient, “go ahead and touch a pussy for the first time.”

he huffs, yanking the fabric to the side before sinking his ring and middle fingers into you, knuckle deep as this thumb runs circles along your clit. you whine, grinding your hips down on his hand, impatiently waiting for him to move.

“for someone who’s experienced,” he grins, “you’re awfully impatient.”

you open your mouth to respond, but as soon as you try to retort, his fingers thrust into you, hitting the sensitive spot of your walls with ease and making you cut yourself off with a moan. he scissors his fingers, stretching you open as your head falls to his shoulder with soft whimpers, feeling him curl his digits deep into you. you whine as your clit hits over his palm, feeling the slow build up of the coil in your belly reach the snapping point.

“keep going,” you encourage, “‘m close, k-keep going—fuck, suguru!”

“god, you’re so pretty,” he breathes, watching as your head tips back and your mouth parts with a silent sob, watching as you break—all because of him. your walls spasm around his fingers as they bully into you and ride you through your orgasm, and your lips are slightly swollen from biting on them, eyes crinkled as you screw them shut, skin damp and glistening as sweat coats your forehead.

perfect—you look perfect, and suguru has fantasized about this image in his head for so long, he can hardly believe it’s a reality before him.

your hands find his long hair, tugging and twisting at the strands that slip between your fingers as the last few waves of your high crash over you.

the rest is a blur—somewhere through rough and sloppy kisses, through rolled hips and soft groans as you grind against each other, geto has managed to unclasp your bra, letting your tits bounce freely. his hands immediately cup around them, squeezing gently before his lips pull away and his eyes fall to your chest.

“fuck, they look better in person,” he grunts, rolling his thumbs over your pebbled nipples before pinching them lightly and rolling them between his fingers. you squeal, and your cunt is dripping—smearing your slick along his bare thigh as he teases over the sensitive skin. “feels good?” he mumbles.

“so good—don’t stop,” you moan, making his breath hitch in his throat. grinning, you open your eyes, hazy with lust, meeting his own unfocused gaze, “doing so well, suguru. making me feel so good.”

geto likes praise. you can tell that much alone from his hefty list of accomplishments on his resume. he’s beaming with pride the first day your professor introduces him in class while explaining how capable he is at his young age. he does a good job of staying humble, but you never fail to notice the twinge of excitement in his eyes when he’s praised for his impressive work ethic.

there’s no exception now either—his eyes search yours for every hint he can find that he’s doing a good job, that he’s doing well and giving you exactly what you want. you swear his cock twitches when you say the word good—and he seems to notice it too because there’s a shaky breath against your neck as he groans.

“fuck,” he breathes, hands falling to your hips and gripping tightly, desperately, when your hand grabs his throbbing cock, still hard and leaking pre cum from the reddened tip. “want to feel you,” he groans, “please.”

it’s all it takes for you to sink down on him, forehead pressing to his as you both moan against each other’s mouths. he’s big—long and thick, curved at an angle that makes him sink against your sweet spot almost perfectly, almost like he was made for you. it’s a shame he’s your TA, a small part of you almost feels a twinge of disappointment he can’t fully be yours.

“fuck, suguru,” you gasp, “so big, feels so good.”

he whines, helping lift your hips up and guide you down on his cock, your hips rolling against his, the sound of your moans and the slapping of skin filling up the small office. you’re sure anyone passing by could hear and figure out what’s going on—but it only thrills you more, making you slam down on him faster.

“so tight,” he grunts, “g-god, so fucking tight, i can’t—”

his hands are everywhere, they dig into your hips, glide up to cup your tits, and find the back of your neck to pull you close and meet your lips. he’s panting, sweat making strands of hair cling to his forehead as his skin flushes a deep shade of crimson. his hips buck up into you, meeting you halfway with desperate thrusts, trying to feel you deeper.

your head is spinning—not just from the way his thick girth splits you open, or from the way his tip slams against your spot so perfectly, but from the way his touch seems to light your skin up with every drag of his fingertips. and then he brings one hand down between your bodies, rubbing his thumb against your clit in harsh circles.

“are you gonna cum, suguru? cause i am,” you moan, “wanna be good and cum with me? fill me up nice and full?”

“sh-shit,” he lets out a shaky breath. he does want to fill you up—wants to cum deep into you so you’re dripping as you walk out of his office. so that when you sit in class and stare at him as he teaches class, you can’t help but think of the way he was buried to the hilt inside you just hours ago. “yeah…yeah, ‘m gonna cum. gonna fill you up, baby,” he groans, “stuff you full of my cum. want it?”

“wan’ it so bad, suguru,” you whine, “look so pretty when you cum, wanna see it again.”

and with a few more rolls of your hips, the squelching sounds of his cock slipping in and out of you all but drowned out but your pants, you fall off the edge—geto not far behind. you can feel his cock twitch as he shoots rope after rope of his thick cum into you, angling his hips up to fuck it deep into your pussy. it’s a mess, your slick mixed with his seed dripping along your thighs and coating your skin, but you can’t find it in you to care. and you also can’t find it in you to care that you’ll have to leave after this and see him again as you sit through his class. and you certainly don’t have it in you to care that you could both get in serious trouble if anyone realized this was happening.

instead, you cup his cheeks with a gentleness that makes his breath hitch in his throat with a strangled whine, and you kiss him, hard and deep.

“f-fuck, fuck—ngh, shit,” he gasps, against your mouth in labored pants. it’s never felt like this—cumming into his fist is one thing, but cumming into your tight walls, feeling them squeeze around him in sync with his high is something he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to forget. he thinks you’ve ruined touching himself for him, thinks he’ll never be able to go back to being fine with just his hand to keep him company when he’s aching between his legs.

after this, geto isn’t sure how he’s supposed to just forget this happened—or about you. his hands don’t stop guiding you onto his cock, hips not ceasing to fuck up into you until you’re both whimpering from sensitivity.

it’s too much—but somehow, it’ll never be enough.

you slump over him when he finally slows down to a stop, bodies a sweaty heap against each other on his chair as his arms wrap around you and his lips find your damp forehead for a soft kiss. you turn your head, pressing a kiss to his jaw in return.

“so,” you wriggle your brows, “can this count as extra credit?” you ask cheekily, feeling his chest rumble with a low chuckle as he pulls you tighter against his chest.

“sure. i’ll even give you enough extra credit opportunities to be top of the class,” he grins.

#[ tee’s kinktober 22 👻 ]#teepods.writings #thirstee!#fics.#geto x reader #geto x you #geto smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #geto suguru smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen smut

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strulovitches · 2 months

Text

first move (?)

cbf!lance x f!reader

summary : basically you and lance are childhood best friends and one day when he was sitting spread eagle it makes you h*rny and some suggestive stuff ensues.

a/n : inspired by lance sitting spread eagle in that one video. you know which vid i’m talking about. this has been in my notes for so long and it really isn’t written very well but i just thought i should put this out there in case anyone would enjoy it lmao. so,,,, if you’re a lance enjoyer,,,, have fun!

you locked your phone, staring at your reflection as the screen turned dark. qualifying had just finished about half an hour ago and from where you were standing in lance’s motorhome you could still hear the distant cheers outside, undoubtedly celebrating a rare occasion where pole position was a car that wasn’t a red bull. lance had invited you to this race, just like all the other dozens of times you have attended a grand prix weekend. the relationship you have with lance is kind of cute, both of your fathers were long-time friends which meant that you knew lance ever since he was a little boy racing go-karts around montreal. growing up together, you were there when he first won his go-kart championship and he was there to comfort you when you first failed your maths test. a childhood best friends trope at its finest.

more than a decade has passed which has seen both you and lance grow to become a man and a woman. you thought about how lance was no longer a scrawny boy with a bowl haircut. he grew to be a handsome young man, his job requiring him to train religiously and as a result gain muscle. his skinny arms, ones which you used to compare with chicken legs grew thicker, his chest wider, and he soon towered over you. throughout these past few years, you always found yourself staring at his shirtless torso a bit too long during both of your family’s annual yacht trips together. you wanted to cup his face in your hands and at the same time his broad back made you wonder what it would feel like your dig your nails into it. you chastised yourself, how could you have thoughts like that about your childhood best friend? despite that, you weren’t oblivious to the glances lance would give you as well. lance too, noticed your physical changes.

his cheeky teases turned into flirtations and once innocent hugs lingered a bit longer as you both savoured being held by each other. so were both you and lance sort of pining for each other? well, yes. has anyone made a first move? nope. (but maybe that’s going to change now)

lance walked in plopping down on the couch with a huff. his legs were spread and arms on the couch rest throwing his head back

you felt like you were in a trance. your eyes trained on his neck watching his adam’s apple bob trying to catch his breath from his sprint. the sweat on his face was dripping on to the towel he had on his neck. he was always so sweaty after sessions in the car for some reason. your gaze trailed down his body seeing how his fireproofs perfectly hugged his biceps, chest and torso. the longer you stared at his thighs made thoughts made your mind wander about what was beneath his pants. slowly, you felt your face flush. the heat pooling in your stomach was starting to intensify the longer you spent gazing at him.

you broke your trance to find a pair of cheeky brown eyes already staring back. a stupid cocky smirk plastered on his stupid handsome face. obviously, you’ve been caught checking him out.

‘like what you see?’ and so, the teasing game begins

you give him a once over again, trying to sound nonchalant. ‘definitely’ you paused. ‘close your legs before i do something stupid’ you continued, fumbling with your phone to calm down your racing heart.

he let out a laugh. ‘i’m intrigued now. come on, nothing will be too stupid.’ you hear him persuade.

moments pass. were you really going to be the first one to make a move?

fuck it. you placed your phone on the table and walked towards him, never breaking eye contact. stopping in between his legs you gaze down at him. he still has that stupid smile on his face.

staring into his eyes, you slowly start to kneel. your hands place themselves on his knees as you feel the plush carpet underneath your knees. you could see his eyes turn dark and his smile falter. his relaxed posture becomes apprehensive, slowly sitting up at this turn of events. you smile as your hands slide up his legs and place your cheek on his thigh, lips dangerously close to somewhere he would rather them be. clearly, there’s no need to explain what something stupid is.

‘happy now stroll?’ you lilt, seeing his jaw clench at your precarious position.

‘no, show me what you’ve got’ he continues.

giving him your best doe eyes, you bring your lips to the canadian flag printed on the navel of his racing suit. hands still on his thighs, you start kissing each letter of his name printed. you could feel your chin brushing against his crotch every time you shift.

‘how about now?’ you tilt your head looking up at him.

he doesn’t look too happy when he cups your jaw with his hand. ‘teasing isn’t nice you know.’ he says, brushing your bottom lip with his thumb.

you catch his thumb between your teeth as you give it a lick. a teasing glint appears in your eyes, opening your mouth to release his thumb. ‘then don’t start’ you finish, pushing his legs wider as you use the momentum to stand up as you move to amble away.

what a fucking temptress. he curses in his mind. ‘1-0 stroll! it’s your turn to make a move!’ he hears you yell out. just you wait baby, just you wait.

#lance stroll #lance stroll x you #lance stroll fluff #lance stroll x y/n #lance stroll smut #but it isnt really smut now is it but whatever #f1 imagine #lance stroll x reader

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obsessedelusional · 1 year

Text

What the f*** are you looking at?

parings ✦ Eddie Munson x You/Reader

summary ✦ As a fellow social reject you sat at the same lunch table as the Hell Fire club. You didn’t mind, forming a crush on their leader Munson. What happens when one day he catches you starting?

authors note ✦ Okay this is tmi but my freshman year of high school I had a fat ass crush on this boy he was the class clown always doing the most one day I turn around as he’s being loud and he says “What’re you looking at?” And then continues to tell his friends I’m always staring at him. Literally so traumatizing LMAO turned it a cute lil fluff piece about Eddie. Obviously my life didn’t end out like this lol

FEEDBACK AND REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!!

The first three years of high school were all the same. You spent everyday alone, your face tucked away in a book. Sometimes you’d wonder what it would be like to be a little reckless. Maybe even do something kind of stupid. Pretend for once that you didn’t give a fuck. Truth was you gave too many fucks. Constant state of worry and anxiety. It was much easier to be invisible. Doing everything in your power to be as unseen as possible.

Which is exactly why you admired Eddie Munson. He gave off the most I don’t give a fuck energy you had ever seen. You were insanely jealous that he is so effortlessly him self. Something you struggled with as long as you can remember.

Eddie was so attractive in your eyes. Most of the books you read were romance, the main man a stereotypical bad boy. You always imagined Eddie when reading the many stories. Forming a giant crush on him years ago.

One perk of being a social reject was having no choice but to sit at the same table as him. Getting a front row seat to his shenanigans. The Hell Fire Club took up half of the table while the rest of the school losers sat at the other end. Sometimes you would wonder why you few didn’t just befriend each other. No one ever brave enough to be the first person to introduce themselves.

Today was no different, you were sat the lunch table reading as a way to pass the time and hopefully stop anyone from talking to you. The large thud at the other end of the table has you looking up from the pages in front of you. You look to see Eddie putting on his usual theatrics.

“Fuck this school.” His voice spreading across the lunch room. Most people so used it they don’t bother looking his way. You on the other hand look for any excuse to stare at Eddie. Jason makes a snarky comment which only fuels Eddie’s fire.

“And fuck you too!” He flips Jason off before finally taking a seat. You can’t help but feel for him something must be truly bothering him. That quickly changes when his head snaps upwards his eyes move directly at you.

“What the fuck are you looking at?” He spits talking to you. Your eyes go wide, entirely in shock. Never once had you actually interacted with Eddie. Always wanting to, would even imagine how it would go down. Not like this.

“Dude what the fuck?” Jeff says to Eddie.

“What? She’s always fucking staring.” Eddie says, venom in his voice. Tears begin to brim your eyelids so you stand up, wasting no time to leave. You can hear the rest of the group telling him that was dick move.

You make your way to the nearly empty library. Where’d you spend the rest of lunch. After today you’d probably spend every lunch till you graduated in the library. Promising yourself you’ll never look at Eddie again.

—

It’s been over a week since the incident. You hadn’t seen Eddie since. Which was easy enough considering most of your classes were AP and he wasn’t in any of those. You ended up enjoying spending lunch in the library. It was quiet enough that there were little to no interruptions as you read.

The school day comes to an end. Your walking to your car, eyes on the floor. In an attempt to avoid all your classmates. That’s until you come to a screeching halt, someone’s blocking the door to your car. While you can only see their tattered white sneakers you recognize them immediately. It’s Eddie.

“I wanted to apologize.” His voice softer than his usual tone. You ignore him reaching for the door handle, he moves in the way blocking your hand.

“I’m so sorry.” He says while you continue to refuse to look at him.

“I was having a shitty day. Mrs. Davis was telling me off for falling behind in class. As I was leaving her classroom the principal calls me to the office, blaming me for the graffiti that appeared in the gym. Which wasn’t me by the way, if I was capable of that everyone would know it was me. Didn’t matter I got in trouble for it, two weeks of after school detention.” He keeps on rambling on and on about that events that happened before he snapped at you.

“Then Jason was being an asshole. I was so irritated and when I saw you looking at me I took it out on you. I became the asshole. I feel terrible.” He says, you can’t help but feel like he’s being genuine.

“It’s whatever. Can I get in my car now?” You say, your voice timid as usual.

“Please let me make it up to you.” He pleads. It takes all your will power to not look up at those big beautiful brown eyes.

“Don’t worry about it.” You say reaching around him but he blocks you yet again.

“Please I miss catching the pretty book worm staring at me.” As the words come out of his mouth you can’t help but internally freak the fuck out. Is what he’s saying true? You can’t bring yourself to respond, too entirely overwhelmed by the situation.

“Look at me please.” His hand reaches for your chin in attempt to raise your face. You push it away, Eddie retracts his hand surprised by your reaction.

“Why won’t you look at me?” You’re focused on his hands, his fingers playing with the tear in his jeans.

“Cause I’m always fucking staring.” You are surprised by the words that come out.

“I’m serious when I say I miss it. Let me make it up to you. I want to take you out on a date.” You can sense the smile on his face, still refusing to make eye contact with him. Wishing nothing more than to escape this situation.

“This feels like a trap.” You respond.

“What?”

“If I say yes it’s gonna be a prank or something. The second I say yes you’re gonna start laughing as if the idea of anyone going out with me is ridiculous.”

“Do you really think that of me?” He asks, his tone sounds upset now.

“A week ago, no. Today? Maybe.”

“I don’t think the idea of anyone going out with you is ridiculous. I noticed years ago your constant gaze. I never minded. If anything I started going out of my way to get your eyes on me. Always making a fool of myself so I can see your smile when you finally get your head out of whatever book your reading.”

“Then why did you say what you said?” You ask.

“Because this time the reason you were looking my way was because I was throwing a tantrum. Like a giant toddler. I was embarrassed. You looked concerned while ever looked disgusted by the freak lashing out.” He sighs, you so desperately wishing you could muster up the courage to look up at Eddie.

“So I lashed out on you. I regretted it immediately. I swear.” Eddie explains.

“I forgive you.”

“You do?” His voice perks up.

“Does that mean you’ll let me make it up to you?”

“Maybe.” You smile, still focusing on his hands.

“Look at me, please.” He’s basically begging at this point. When you hesitate, he reaches for your chin. Only this time you don’t stop him. You’re face to face with Eddie now. So close to him, closer than you ever been.

“Do you believe me yet that this isn’t some elaborate joke on you?” Your lost deep in his eyes, unable to to process what’s happening. When you don’t respond he closes his eyes, moving closer to you. He’s about to kiss you, your first kiss. Unsure of what to do you close your eyes too. He plants a sweet short kiss on your lips before pulling away. Your eyes still closed when he pulls away.

“Believe me now?” You nod yes unable to form any words, eyes closed. He slips a piece of paper in your back pocket, the pocket that rests on your butt.

“It’s my number. Call me tonight?” Eddie asks.

“Okay.” You smile opening your eyes, Eddie’s lets out a small laugh before leaving you alone to process what just happened.

“What the fuck?” You whisper to yourself. You reach in your pocket half expecting it to be blank or for it say that you’ve been pranked. Like this really was some elaborate joke on you.

It doesn’t say that. It is his number and his name with a little heart. It reads ‘sorry I was an asshole i promise to make it up to you’.

You smile thinking maybe it’s your turn to do something a lil reckless.

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson pov #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie imagine #eddie x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie x you #eddie x fem!reader #munson #eddie the freak munson

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aka-indulgence · 4 months

Text

Got a oneshot! Have a fic where Sans rejects your romantic pursuits with a happy twist ;)

CW: Flashback section containing Sans’ ex, where he wasn’t having a good time

(Sans & Gender Neutral Reader)

Sans doesn’t know what he thinks about the whole romance thing after a disastrous start. What happens when a precious friend confesses?

——————

It wasn’t entirely unexpected.

Sans didn’t think much of it when you came that day. Sans would often usually invite you over anyway, though today you were first to ask him if you could visit. Which was fine- he’s never as comfortable with anyone else as much as he was comfortable with you. (Maybe Papyrus, but even then there were things Sans wouldn’t tell his brother because he didn’t want to burden him with problems that Sans would rather burden himself with.)

You were laughing. He always loved it when you laughed.

“so i told him: paper-thin skin? buddy. pal. i ain’t got skin.”

You were in an uproar, slapping your knee. “Oh my god! I’d give the world to see the look on his face,”

“oh yeah. definitely unforgettable. man got so red faced he looked like he was gonna burst. he then stomped out like an angry toddler.”

You were giggling, before the both of you fell into a silence. That was a normal part of conversations, Sans was used to it. Especially with you, the silence was never unwelcome. But this time… something felt different. The air has shifted. Your carefree expression had changed into something more contemplative. He wasn’t sure what it was, then. Or maybe, he just didn’t want to read too deep into it.

You spoke up.

“... Hey Sans? Can I tell you something?”

Why was he nervous?

“... yeah?”

“It’s… um. Give me a second…” you laughed nervously. “Haha, sorry, I feel a little sick.”

Sans’ brows furrowed. “what’s up? you ok..?”

You huffed. “Ok. Yeah. Sorry for ruining the moment? But uh… it’s been on my mind for a while, and I have to tell you. I hope you’re ok with me saying this but. I like you, Sans. Kind of… a lot?”

… Ringing. Sans hears ringing. It feels like something in his soul crashed.

“... Sans?”

Sans wasn’t there. His mind was somewhere else.

“i just… i just don’t know if i like you in that way…”

Her face broke into despair. She wouldn’t look his way. She didn’t even say a word to him.

“w… wait. why are you… where are you going?”

“I can’t be here.”

It was years ago. Monsters had lived on the surface for about a year. She was one of Papyrus’ friends, and their first meeting had been wonderful. It still leaves an ache in his chest when he thinks about it now, how hopeful he was when he met her. She was fun, always got Sans involved in social events, always found her way towards him when he was sitting on the sidelines while Papyrus took the stage.

“hey i wouldn’t recommend the punch.”

“Why not?”

“y’see, i like funny things. and that thing… it ain’t got a punchline.”

“... Are you seriously punning?”

“i think i’m being funny.”

“Hah, that’s so stupid,”

She was laughing. But when Sans thinks about it now, maybe it was a pitying one. Sans wasn’t one to judge, puns didn’t win everyone over.

She quickly became a regular in his life, the first human friend he’s made since the surface, one that seemed more interested in him than his brother. She would even pout and joke when Sans didn’t give her enough attention which was cute, at the time. It was easy introducing her to his friends, with how often she tagged along with him.

She would put her arm over his shoulders, hug him, get so close to kissing but miss… Sans never initiated, but only because he wasn’t much of a physical person to begin with. It was nice to have someone so affectionate with him.

He really liked having her in his life.

And then… came that fateful day.

“I was going to wait for you. But you never asked me out.”

“what do you mean…?”

“I know you’re smart, Sans. I’ve been obvious. I just don’t know if you even like me.”

He didn’t know where this had come from. He was suddenly put on the spot, struggling to give her an answer, an answer that he knew she wanted. But Sans was lost.

“i just… i just don’t know if i like you in that way…”

“...”

She was stoic. She was upset with him, she left him alone in his room after he brought out the games he was hoping to play together. Had he made a mistake…? Was he really that dense? Was he just terrible with commitment?

She… she deserved better.

So he decided to fix it. At least, he thought he was fixing it. Though it turned to be a decision Sans would regret soon after.

He showed up at her door the next night. She hadn’t responded to his texts, his calls. Not even Papyrus’. He felt guilty, like he ruined something perfectly good.

i can’t lose her.

Sans was starting to panic if she maybe had left- then the door opened. Sans soul shook when he saw how her face fell when she saw his face. She was going to retreat back into her room.

“w-wait! please listen to me,” His hand was at the door. “i… i made a mistake. you’re important to me, ok? and i think i want… to be with you.”

His soul sung when she finally looked him in the eyes. There were tears in hers, but she was smiling, and he was happy to have her hugging him again. The tension snapping was a relief. That he saved himself. But even then he wondered… why did it taste bitter to say those last few words?

It… didn’t last long. More and more of Sans’ time was taken up by her, which… should be a good thing. Couples should spend lots of time together, right? But he didn’t have time for his friends anymore. Everytime she went out, he needed to come with.

“Sans, you smell like ketchup.”

“oh… yeah, i put too much on my hotdog.”

“Come on, you need to eat something better. People keep telling me you smell like grease.”

“... really?”

“Yeah. Here, I got you new clothes. Crisp!”

“oh… thanks.”

“Get ready, I’m planning to go at six.”

He was becoming active. He was going out every day, he wasn’t locking himself in his room.

It was for the better, he told himself. She brought out the life in him.

… Sans always thought he was intuitive. He was the best at reading people. He’s the judge. It came to him like breathing.

But apparently, he had been blinded. He had a hard time trusting himself. That maybe his gut feeling was wrong.

“SANS…”

Papyrus had found him alone during a party, having escaped to the bathroom. His sockets had bags under them. His face was dripping with water. He just… needed to rest. Without anyone else around.

“ARE YOU ALRIGHT?”

“yeah… i am. just needed to freshen up is all.”

Papyrus looked so… sad. He hadn’t seen his brother frown so deeply, in a way that made Sans feel guilty.

“SANS. I KNOW YOU FEEL LIKE YOU NEED TO PROTECT ME FROM YOUR FEELINGS EVEN THOUGH I DON’T NEED YOU TO DO THAT BUT… YOU HAVEN’T LIED SINCE WE SURFACED, AND NOW IT’S BACK. AND I THINK… YOU MIGHT BE LYING TO YOURSELF AS WELL. BROTHER… WHAT’S THE MATTER?”

Sans was getting sloppy. He looked away from him, to the mirror- he couldn’t handle that sorrowful look on Papyrus’ face. All that did though, was force him to confront his own expression. His signature smile wasn’t even there. And Sans couldn’t muster the energy to bring it back.

“I DON’T WANT TO PRY, IF YOU’RE UNCOMFORTABLE, BUT… Could This Have Something To Do With Her?”

Sans should’ve said no. Denied it. Told Paps that everything was fine and he was just… just overwhelmed. But he didn’t.

“i… maybe. i…” He exhaled through his phalanges, staring at the bottom of the sink. “i don’t know if i love her, pap. at least… romantically. i’m… i’m trying paps, i’m trying, i should- she deserves to have someone love her. i want to love her.”

Papyrus finishes his thought for him.

“BUT YOU DON’T.”

“... no.”

Sans felt horrible. He felt like he was leading her on. But Sans really thought that he loved her. He did! He cared for her!

… But not in the way she wanted.

And Sans didn’t want to pretend anymore.

“What did it? Did… did you find another person??”

“no. it’s nothing like that.”

“Then what changed?!”

She was shouting. Sans didn’t like the shouting. She never took kindly to him giving anyone- anything else attention. Sans tried to fix it, at first. He thought he was the problem until he got the messages asking him where he was, why he was so absent.

“nothing has, it was just a lot of little things. i’m sorry. i don’t love you in that way.”

“... How could you say something so horrible!?”

It was a good thing they hadn’t moved in together. She had insisted on moving, and that was one thing Sans could put his foot down about. He has a couple of old shirts and pants at her place from the nights he’s stayed, but nothing he’ll miss much. Lots of them were clothes she approved. It smelled like perfume. Even when he thought he was in love with her he thought moving together then was too fast.

She blocked him. Cut him out. Told her friends how Sans didn’t try hard enough when she put in the effort. Sans was never a crier- but he was in tears, hiding in his room. He would talk about it with Papyrus, but right then, he didn’t want anyone to hear. He wanted to throw his phone, he wanted to scream at her. He loved her! Maybe- maybe he never wanted to date her, maybe, if they hadn’t they’d still be friends but she always just… took too much.

It was nice when Papyrus chose to cut her off, to show support for him. It was ironic, even though Sans was the one she always chased, she always seemed to be on good terms with Papyrus. Even would ask him to put in a word for her after their arguments.

Sans was fine now. No- more than fine. Sans was happy. His time with her being a mere bump during his time on the surface.

Then, not too long after, he met you.

He never realized what was missing until he met you. You gave him space, and you never asked him to change for you. You… you liked who he was, you liked Sans.

After her Sans was afraid to attach so fast but… he really, really wanted to keep you in his life. He might even like you, more than a friend would. But he wasn’t ready to start another storm in his life.

As he looked into your eyes, he felt his soul sink. He wasn’t ready for it to end.

“... i… i’m sorry,” Why was the air so hot? “i… i… hhh,”

“Huh?”

It was a little hard to breathe. Which should be impossible. He’s a skeleton… air… air literally moves through his ribcage. He isn’t… uh… what’s happening?

You were frowning. Oh no. Were you upset?

“S-Sans? Are you ok?”

Sans was gripping the couch too tightly, phalanges digging into the couch cushions, close to ripping them. Beads of sweat were rolling down his skull. He suddenly felt pathetic… panicking over you.

“Sans?”

His eyelights darted back to you, bringing him back to the present. You looked so confused… he felt so guilty.

no… i can’t do it again.

“i… sorry. i don’t… mean to panic in front of you but… are you upset?”

“About what? I’m… Sans, you’re not making a lot of sense.”

He presses a hand to his face, then takes a deep breath. His mind was in a frizzle and he had to explain to you now before he goes crazy.

“sorry, my mind is a mess right now. i… i don’t want to make you sad. but i don’t know if i’m ready for a relationship right now. and it isn’t you, it’s… it’s me. i don’t want to take away your hope or anything but… i don’t know if i’ll ever be ready for a romantic relationship.”

You blinked at him.

“Oh,”

Sans tensed. Expecting you to explode, or cry, or yell at him, run out the house, hate him, oh god he ruined everything-

“Sans, that’s… ok?”

“...”

what?

“w… what do you mean?”

You’re confused. Sans was too. You shift your eyes left and right.

“I mean… that’s ok. I just didn’t want to make you upset is all, and w… why are you looking at me like that?”

Was he dreaming? His eyelight flashed yellow, as if he could find something. He scanned your face, your eyes, your nose- looking for a shudder, a twitch, even a pulse out of place.

Your face was neutral. Was it just hard to read you?

“you know, you can tell me if you’re upset.” Sans was telling the truth. “i can take it. i’d rather you tell me straight to my face if you are. i… i don’t want to lose you.”

You look startled at his sudden pleading, before giving him a pitiful smile. You put your hands on his shoulders.

“Sans? Can you look at me?” You asked in a soft voice.

It was difficult to look up. He knows you, you’re not the type to yell at him or to curse him for little things. He’d trust his judgment but he’s been mistaken before. Nonetheless, slowly, he tilts his skull up to you. When he does, he sees the determination in your eyes, a fierce yet gentle look.

“Sans. Believe me, I’m ok. You’re not going to lose me if you tell me no. Ok?”

“m… mhm,”

Your serious expression melts a little when you start snickering. “Sans, I… I didn’t even get to finish my sentence. I was about to tell you that I’ll understand if you don’t wanna do a whole romance with me, I’ll be fine! I think it’d be great, and I stand by saying I like you a lot. But, I also like where we are right now, and staying like this is pretty nice too. Just being with you is fun, and whether you’re my friend or my boyfriend, that’s not going to change. So… if you’re ok with staying friends after my confession, I think I’d like that.”

The static of panic started to fade away, and a feeling of calm washed over him. The relief was so potent that Sans could feel his sockets start to sting.

h… heh… i was worrying for nothing.

“yes. god, i’d like that too,” Sans wobbles, phalange wiping his socket. “i was scared that if… if i said no you’d hate me.”

“Pfft,” you snort, before you quickly covered your mouth. “Sorry that wasn’t, I’m not laughing at you. I just want to know what made you think that?”

You bump him gently on the shoulder with your fist. “I thought you knew me!”

Sans snickers, a bit more giggly than usual. “i do! i just have doubts when it comes to romance nowadays,” He sighed. “so… you’re really ok with being friends?”

“Yeah! What’s so bad about being friends anyway? As long as you’re not weirded out by me, if I still get to see you, I count that as a win.”

Sans thought the same thing. He smiled.

“yeah… you’re right.”

It was definitely a win having you in his life.

You go oof! When all of a sudden Sans tugs you into a hug, squeezing you tightly.

“i’m… i’m glad i met you.”

You take him in for a moment, before wrapping your arms around him. You squeeze him back.

“Me too.”

#i used to get really sad reading sans rejection angst fics #then i thought about this to myself #and i feel better :>#sans is cool and i love him uvu #aka writing #angst is a speck in the window and reader deals with it nicely #gender neutral reader

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blingblong55 · 21 days

Text

This town -Simon "Ghost" Riley

pic credits: @ave661 (middle and right)

Based on a request: (Its a long as so I'll link it so you can read the anons idea) Link here ---- F!Reader, childhood!friends, hidden feelings, angst, friends to strangers ---- A/N: Songs that also fit: Too Young- Louis Tomlinson, This Town- Niall Horan, Back to the Old House- The Smiths, Always you-Louis Tomlinson

It's a story to tell over at the old pub you and he used to hang around on the weekends. But how can a man begin to tell the sorrowful story? How can he explain in his bruised hands he holds the locket you gave him when you two were kids? He will maybe ask if this was a curse, the only curse an old soul like his has.

It could've been something, it would've been something, it should've been beautiful.

In this world, it was always he and you. Scraping your knees when jumping off the rocks near his home. Playing tag in the street until the moon greeted you and his mother would call his name. It's the kind of beginning all beautiful loves start with. Friends since childhood, went through life together and by 28, he would have proposed to the girl he had loved his whole life, 40s would be of dropping the kids at school, 50s of early retirement and 60s were for the potential grandkids, 70s would've been the stories shared of their early lives.

Would've...what a shit word that became in his life.

In the teenage years, after you had some glow-up, you became the girl everyone knew. The pretty, popular and funny girl the school knew of. He was the friend of the popular girl, the one people barely noticed or cared for. Simon was the same kid who always had a scar or bruise on his face, compliments from his father. One thing Simon hated more than the bastard of his father was the guy you were with. Bloke knows nothing but how to wank and fuck any living thing, he recalls.

Why were you with such a guy? It was a must. Like those cheesy movies where the pretty girl stays with the popular guy, all for the status of each other. Your feelings weren't real for that guy. He wasn't funny, wasn't smart and he wasn't Simon. The boy you shared a kiss with at age 7 because of an accidental bump whilst running through the grass.

It was during a small break between classes that you found him drinking water. You smile. He always did look good, even the stupid bruise on his jaw made him look so good.

"Y/N," he straightens up. "Simon," you smile cheekily. "Oh no, what's that smile for?" He crosses his arms over his chest and you can't help but get lost in his honey eyes. "Well...I was wondering if maybe we can...talk?" You say, unsure of how to word this confession. "Did my mum put you up to this?"

"No, this is...me just wanting to talk."

"Go on," his voice softens. Does he always do this for you?

You hesitate, but what is life without words? You breathe in and say, "I like you...there I said it and... don't stay quiet because you know I get nervous and I will continue to just talk and talk and talk and-"

He cuts you off by saying, "I'm sorry, Y/N, I... don't..think..this..well I just don't feel that way for you. We're friends, nothing more," he ends his part of the conversation, pats your back as he walks away and you are left in the corridor of the school alone.

As Simon walks to his classroom, his heart and mind fight the words that he had just said to you. Why was that mean? Did I even mean to say them? He thinks.

Graduation happens. You and he never talked after that day. Not even a congrats or a hug, life went on without him in your life. Throughout those last months in school, he felt a feeling of regret when he'd see you with that guys arm around you. He would occasionally walk around the old park just to see if you would still go on your daily walks.

By the time he was about to leave town, he found himself at the old house. He heard your parents moved to a new part of town, so if this was the last time he heard of you, it better be on his terms. And as he walks through the pavement, he finds himself looking at your window. He leans over a car, lights a cigarette and just waits to see if maybe you or some ghost roamed the home.

Was it the feeling of losing a friend that hurt or losing his one chance to feel something other than pain and hatred? Maybe it's just nervous, after all, he leaves tomorrow.

You were both just 16, it was puppy love, nothing would've lasted if he reciprocated those feelings, right?

And if it was, why does he feel some kind of hurt as he packs his bags? Why does he want to run to your new home and call your name? Is there a reason why? It's not love, it can't be love, he thinks. I'm not worthy of that, you've heard my dad, he says out loud. "Simon?" Tommy opens the door. "Tommy, not today," he looks back at his bag. "...Fuck" he whispers.

It's been a long nineteen years since he last saw you and heard your precious voice laugh at a cheesy joke of his. Nineteen years and the feeling in his chest is still there when he arrives home. Manchester was always home for him, it was the only place he knew best when he came back.

One day, as he was cleaning his closet, looking for his dog's leash, something fell and hit his head. "What the fu-" he looked down and there it was.

"Why give me this?" A thirteen-year-old Simon asked you. You smile, "You said you wish you could always be near me so you can feel safe...and since I'm going to my nans for the week, have this locket on you, and I swear I'll be there. Keep it safe, okay?" you kiss his forehead before entering the car. He nods and waves, "Call me, Y/N, please!" he calls out and you nod. "Every day!" you scream out as the car drives further away.

A smile falls on his silent lips, "...Y/N..." his thumb caresses the design. Once he opens it, he feels as if he is that young again. "Are you still there, Y/N?" He whispers and then, realisation hits. It was never nerves or whatever bullshit he told himself back then, it was love, always has.

All the dots are connecting. For the past nineteen years, he always had some love or whatever all those hookups and awful relationships were, but never did they stick around. Never did he feel more for them than what he has always felt for you. His cold heart still beating warm when he thinks of you. You are all he has ever known, the smiles, the late-night confessions, stories, the silly inside jokes, the feeling in his chest today.

He hasn't seen you in years, what if you don't remember him? What if when you see him, your heart doesn't call his name when he screams yours? Will you ever even forgive him? Will you wrap your arms around him and call him home like he has called you?

He must find you, so he calls and looks for you in every corner of this place. He finds nothing, just more lost hope at every corner he looks into. His heart and mind excited each other at the thought this would be some sappy romance moment. His mind creating a script, all truths, just finding better words to tell you he loves you, loved you the moment you kissed the similar scar on the knee at the park when he cried over the pain. He's loved you from the day he learned to say your name.

Why does he miss you so much today?

Why must you be the drug his body needs? God does he miss you and your addictive heart.

He has been around the world, where he could've found a good woman who made him happy but no, his heart has always belonged to one girl. You.

By the time he gets the street right, he finds you sitting down and as he smiles and nearly runs to you, he stops when he sees this image of you.

Sitting by the fountain, he sees you and a man. His arms wrap around your body, giving you darling kisses as you chuckle. It was then that Simon Riley knew this was it. He will spend his entire life wandering earth, looking for another soul like yours. You didn't see him of course, your fiance capturing all your attention. Simon was close to not caring and pulling you away from that man, but that would be cruel. And as he tries to make up excuses for this man being near you, he sees the ring.

Oh...oh you fool, he thinks.

His heart is near death. It screams your name, trying to find you so it can keep beating but when you don't whisper, Simon nods and lets his heart die. Let it rot, so it can learn its lesson, he thinks.

It would've never bloomed, Simon and you...right?

It's no use to even go and say hi. The locket that contained your picture was still in his fist. It'll be the last reminder of what was meant to be a life romancing in dark streets through town.

In his head, the home you dreamed of will forever be just a dream. No four kids, no library, no big kitchen so you and he can dance around at midnight. No you...no him...it'll all be stuck and dead in this town.

He crossed rivers, mountains, and enemies and survived wounds soldiers like him get, all to come home to you. And all this was for nothing. In his world, he would've married you, given you chubby babies and late Saturday mornings. No gun, no bomb and no other man would've kept him away from you.

In his mind, he is with you. In his dead heart, he sits by and watches that chubby baby learn to walk. He would've adored seeing you in a white dress, walking to him as he wiped tears away when he d his dream of a perfect life was minutes away from being real.

What a mess he is as he asks for another drink. A mess he never should have been if he had told you that your name is carved all over his body.

It was this town that saw him live and it'll be this town that sees him die because if he can't have you, at least he has this place.

A/N: Remember, I collect tears for potions, so please drop them by for collection, thank you. - The place of tears co.

Tags: @liyanahelena @mangowafflesss @goldenmclaren @ghostslillady @moonsua1 @rvivienner @Krinoid24 @iruzias @frazie99 @idklols @saoirse06 @vampsquerade @Juneonhoth @tiredmetalenthusiast @jinxxangel13 @enarien @Simonssweetgirl @luvecarson @willowaftxn83-87 @ikohniik @nobodys-coffee @strawberrychita @sae1kie @queen-ilmaree @pbcartii @Llelannie @Macnches2 @bbyfimmie @avidreadee123 @talooolaaloolla @skelletonwitch @bittermajesties @Nyx_Flower @honestlyhiswife @who-can-appease-me @ghostwifeyy @konigssultwithghost @kaoyamamegami @beansproutmafia @soapybutt17 @asianbutnotjapanese @a-goose-with-a-knife @foxface013 @sleepyycatt @believeinthefireflies95

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byalexisness · 9 months

Text

☆virgin killer

Isagi Yoichi x fem! reader

this man and the virgin killer trope haunts my mind. also, thank you for over 100 followers <3 i love each of you.

content warning: detailed smut, dom! isagi, overstimulation, dirty talking, corruption kink, virginity loss, inexperienced! reader, fingering, oral (f reciving), established relationship

outside the field, everyone saw isagi as a sweet, caring boyfriend. he was nothing but gentle with you.

i mean, how couldn't he? you were so precious to him, so innocent and needing to be protected. you were so cute, adorable even, with your tiny pleated skirt and short, tight and cropped tops that revealed a little of your tummy. your knee socks hugging your thighs oh-so perfectly, you looked like a princess.

his princess.

don't get him wrong, isagi loved you and he wished to protect and be with you every second of his life. he was a true sweetheart, hiding his true intentions behind gentle caresses and kisses.

truly, from the second his eyes met yours back in highschool, he wanted to do nothing but have you dumb on his cock.

however, he knew you were scared of losing your purity. and while it was understandable, it was hard keeping his composure.

unlike you, isagi was experienced. he has been through multiple girls, since most of his fans gave themselves to him freely. however, the ones he loved the most were the virgin ones.

he absolutely loved the feeling of a tight, untouched cunt sucking his cock in with every push. the way all of them would go stupid and cry that "it hurts", only to beg for more and more once he hit the sweet spots.

however, when he stopped his one-night stands with random fangirls the moment you became his girlfriend. it didn't matter how desperate he was, how much you would unwillingly and unknowingly tease him by sitting on his lap or kissing his neck, he wouldn't resume into cheating on you.

the day you finally agreed to let him touch you in your special place, isagi was in heaven. after four long years of waiting and only fucking his fist or a fleshlight, he could finally touch you.

isagi started slow, with a make out session, his lips refusing to live yours, even when both yours and his lungs ached with the need for oxygen.

then, he went down to your neck, peppering it with kisses and love bites. nothing unusual for now, since he always placed hickeys on your neck, collarbone or shoulders. to show everyone you were taken, that you were his and his alone.

slowly taking off your top, teasing you, making you want him more, his lips traveled down your to your shoulders and chest area while his hands massaged your waist. your trembling hands took off his t-shirt, wanting to feel his skin.

you were already a whining mess when a skilled hand undid your bra and threw it away and his greedy mouth attached to your right breast. his tongue swirled around your areola, flicking your nipple from time to time. isagi's hand massaged your left breast, groping it and caressing it, not giving you a single second of a break.

little mewls and whimpers fell from your mouth as he gave his full attention to your breasts. "y-yoichi...p-please" you whined lowly, getting impatient.

"patience, doll." he said lovingly and switched to your left breast, giving it the same treatment as he gave to your right one. after he decided it was enough, he peppered kisses down to the beginning of your shorts. "may i?"

with a small nod from you, isagi took off your shorts, a proud smirk on his face when he saw the wet patch on your cute panties. "aww, is my princess already wet f'r me?" he teased, earning a whine from you.

"w-what will you do now?" you asked as you shyly squirmed when his fingers touched your clothed pussy.

"shh, darling. 'mma take good care of you. gonna eat this pussy out until you can't breathe anymore."

you shivered at his filthy words and a shaky breath escaped past your lips when the cold air hit your hot cunt.

"look at you...so wet, i can't wait to taste you." he whispered and you heard an unknown hunger in his voice. without wasting more time, isagi's mouth attached to your pussy, licking a long stripe with his tongue.

his lips sucked on your clit and then, you felt his hot muscle penetrating you. he moved his tongue in and out, making you see stars only from it.

after a few minutes of eating you out like you were a full course meal, you felt another intruder stretching you out. his middle finger entered you slowly and carefully, moving in a calm pace.

it felt...way different from your fingers. his finger was longer and thicker and it made you whine out his name. "y-yoiii"

he smirked, sucking on your clit. his ring finger soon joined his middle one, giving you another stretch. the lewd squelching sounds made by his fingers thrusting in your wet pussy made you whine. he was soon scrissoring you open, preparing you for the big stretch.

you can't even process when you came, you only knew that you did when your lower body jolted upwards and you cried out loudly. however, isagi didn't stop, slurping your juices like a starved man.

your hips involuntary tried jerking away from his mouth, overstimulated by the intensity of your orgasm. you babbled brainlessly, trying to get him to give you a break. he didn't.

he kept going, soon making you cum twice, thrice even.

when he decided it was enough, he separated his mouth from your vagina, your slick making his chin shine in the dim light of the room. his fingers left your pussy too, making you whine at the emptiness.

you already looked fucked out, breathing heavily as your eyes lustfully watched him. yoichi pulled you into a sweet kiss and you could taste yourself on his lips. "are you ready, my love?" he whispered after he pulled away from the kiss.

his hands were already on his belt, unbuckling it. if you wanted to, he would stop, he would...even if his cock ached in his pants.

"mhm...y-you can keep going..." you whispered and, when he finally took off his pants, your eyes widened. he was a little below average in length, but his girth compensated.

your cheeks flushed pink as you looked at the angry red tip, already laced in precum. "t-there's...no way this will fit, y-yoichi..."

"it will, trust me." he said, trying to reassure you as he started to rub his cock between your folds, making both himself and you moan.

slowly but surely, he coated his length with your slick. after a few more moments, he aligned his cock with your entrance. "i'll enter now, okay?" isagi said softly as he took your hand in his and you nodded nervously.

the second he pushed his tip in, you gasped loudly and isagi had to use all of his willpower to not thrust into you all the way. with every inch, blue eyes watched as your face twist into a painful expression, your hand squeezing his in a deathly grip.

with each inch he pushed in, slowly and carefully to not hurt you, your whines got louder since it felt like he was splitting you open. to shush you and comfort you, he pulled your lips into a kiss as his free hand massaged your breast while he bottomed out.

ragged breaths could be heard from both of you while he stilled inside you. even if it killed him inside, as he wanted nothing more than to demolish you right there, he waited patiently for the signal.

and it came soon, as your body relaxed under his and you gave him a nod. "b-be gentle, please.."

isagi groaned loudly at your words and he started thrusting slowly and gently in you. however, as soon as your moans picked up in intensity, the beast inside isagi yoichi unleashed.

he started thrusting into you like there was no tomorrow, hard and fast, making your eyes roll back as you basically screamed his name.

" 'ichi, y-yoi....yoichi! s-slow down!" you cried out, but isagi couldn't. he could only groan and moan and pound into you, fucking your brains out.

quite literally, since you soon went dumb on his cock, just like he dreamed of. your eyes were closed as tears of pleasure streamed down your cheeks.

"look at you, such a pretty slut..taking my cock so-mgh- well. so fucking good for me." he spoke lowly besides your ear. "c'mon, make a mess on my cock, won't ya?" he groaned as he could feel you clenching around him.

in response, you could only babble out about how good it feels, about how you wanted more and more. almost in an instant, you creamed around his cock and your walls gripped him tightly, suffocating his length.

isagi couldn't hold it anymore and, with a loud moan, he spilled his cum inside you, painting your walls white, filling you to the brim. your eyes rolled back and your mouth was left agape.

his body fell on top of yours and he breathed heavily, hugging you tightly as he whispered in your ear.

"i could fuck you like this every single day."

and who were you to refuse?

#bllk #anime #blue lock #bluelock #isagi yoichi #isagi yoichi smut #isagi x reader #blue lock isagi #isagi x you #bllk isagi #bllk smut #bllk smau #blue lock smut #yoichi x reader #isagi yoichi x reader #fem reader #smut

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toshidou · 1 year

Text

woe to the deer who is courted by the wolf . . .

pairing // könig x f!reader

word count // 7.2k

tags // 18+ ONLY, afab reader, vampire!könig, predator/prey kink, mentions of blood and injury, minor elements of horror (very minor), slightly misunderstood lonely vampire könig, unprotected sex, stomach bulge, rough sex, creampie, biting, blood sucking, blood play

an // after battling with writers block for over a month, who would have thought it'd take a blood sucking giant to free me from the shackles of having no inspiration? anyway this is the most i've ever written in one day, which is only slightly concerning. bone apple teeth!

thank you to @erosology for beta reading this, and forever being my number one hype man ;-;

Pale moonlight peaks through a frame of eerily still clouds, reflecting off the polished black steel planted in the ground at your feet. You can hear the whispers of your friends behind you, a little too old to be snickering and giggling behind the palms of their hands, although you’re entirely too old to have taken their bet in the first place.

It started off as a simple reunion between old friends, a short trek into once familiar woods to the spot you used to set up base for the night, roasting marshmallows over a concerningly large campfire, sharing cliche horror stories whilst swaddled in blankets. This very night had gone about the same, until someone brought up the old manor. An imposing house that watches over the village that surrounds it, well kept and suspiciously pristine, withstanding the tests of time despite the fact that not a single soul has ever been seen to enter or leave the premises.

It had been a longstanding dare, an easy way to get someone to down their drink, ‘I dare you to jump the fence and knock on the door’. No one has ever been stupid enough to go through with it, a couple tried, but got as far as the black iron that surrounds the perimeter before they gave up. And yet, here you stand, too many years later, an individual who should be both older and wiser than to commit several crimes for the sake of a stupid bet and childish curiosity, staring at that very same railing.

You can hardly hear the whispered words of your friends from where they cower behind you, your eyes transfixed on the looming building that seemingly stares back at you from where you remain fixed at the bottom of the hill. Mahogany brick unblemished, barely touched by weather, towers three stories high, trimmed ivy crawling up the walls as though attempting to reach out to the moon that watches over it. Each window is blocked by scarlet wooden shutters, an old-fashioned touch for a house surrounded by new builds; looking at it now feels like taking several steps back in time.

Not a single spec of light leaks through any crack in the shutters, each room bathed in darkness, the same way it always has. Surely, you think to yourself, surely no one can possibly be in there. Your theory has always been that the house is long since abandoned, its previous owner having died, looked after by a previously employed caretaker who hated to watch a building they loved go into disrepair. And although that doesn’t explain the suspicious lack of activity, it’s the only sane thought that you repeat to yourself as your fingers curl around sturdy black bars, and you begin to haul yourself over the iron fence.

A moment later, and the dull thud of your feet hitting neatly trimmed grass breaks tense silence, your eyes meeting with several widened pairs through steel bars. It’s the furthest anyone’s gotten, and even now, you feel like you’ve gone far enough. It’s certainly not too late to change your mind, to do the sensible thing and throw yourself back into safety, and just as you’re contemplating backing out of the bet, you feel the hairs on your nape stand on end, a chill down your spine so sharp it causes a physical flinch. When you turn around, you’re met with the very same house, not a shutter or brick out of place, yet something, somehow, feels different.

It’s like a siren call, luring you from the safety of your friends that remain frozen on the other side, hardly breathing as though they daren’t make a sound, apprehensive eyes focused on your shadowed form as you slowly make your way up the hill. It’s more daunting up close, no longer a silhouette against a twilight sky, now you can see details the distance has never gifted you, the way the wood shutters that plaster the windows are carved with swirls and intricate patterns, how the ivy hides bloomed flowers amongst pointed leaves, speckles of pink and purple that ease the tension that coils your muscles, only bolstering timid curiosity. And now you’re standing within feet of the house, you’re left in awe by the sheer size of it. It never seemed particularly small, not even from the gate, but the front door alone has you gulping down nothing but frigid air. You take a few tentative steps, eyes raking over the magnificent details carved into thick black oak, the centrepiece that catches your gaze being the solid gold knocker that sits just above your head, halfway up the door.

Two hollow eyes stare back at you, a skull with two rams horns that curl from golden bone, and between its bared teeth lies a ring that rests against ebony wood. It stands out from every other detail of the house, a spine-tingling reminder of where you stand, echoes of the myths that surround this house whispered by your trembling conscience, and yet shaking fingers reach for the ring, curling around cooled metal before lifting it, preparing to knock.

But you never get the chance, because in true horror movie fashion, you’re met with the slow creak of old hinges as the very door you stand before begins to open, and in the void of black it reveals, you swear you see two pinpricks of red that greet you in the darkness. Your entire body goes stiff, still clinging on to the gold loop of the knocker as though it’ll somehow ground you, yet it does nothing to chase away the overwhelming sense of impending doom that screams at you to turn, to run, to get as far away from this wretched place as your legs can take you.

You turn just in time to hear the worried calls of your friends before the door is yanked wide open, dragging you over the edge of the premises with it and sending you careening onto the floor, sliding against wood and scrambling up only to watch that very same door slam in your face.

Frozen. Every single part of you remains stock still as you try to adjust to the darkness. Not even the moonlight dares follow you inside, leaving you alone to dart your eyes in the pitch black, searching for some semblance of light you can latch onto. Yet the house offers you nothing, and you can’t help but see red dots every time you dare close your eyes. In the moment of still you’ve been given, your brain reels as it tries to think of a logical explanation for the door seemingly dragging you into the house with no human in sight to operate it, and in your panic, you can’t help but pray that you’ve fallen asleep by the campfire, and this is all an elaborate nightmare you’ll be able to laugh about when you awake.

A creak from behind you sends you hurtling back into reality, a sure reminder that this is no nightmare, not one you can wake up from, at least. Your head whips to the side, terror freezing your muscles solid as you lock onto crimson orbs once again, so bright they can be seen even with the absence of light to reflect off them, your blood curdling in your veins as they remain fixed on you, unblinking. You scurry backwards, the sound of your back slamming against the solid wall behind you echoing through the dark, fingers curling against peeling wallpaper in a last-ditch attempt to find the door handle.

Your pathetic scrabbling is interrupted by the harsh sound of a match striking against rough material, your eyes drawn to the responding flame it produces, but moreso, the large fingers that dwarf the stick they clutch.

“What a curious thing you are.”

Each syllable rumbles through very walls, practically shakes the structure of the house, a low timber steeped with an accent you can’t quite place, but certainly isn’t local. You daren’t breathe, let alone move, not even when the ground creaks and shakes with every purposeful, creeping step the stranger takes towards you. The flame grows as the match is brought to a wick, the flame whittling away the wood until all that remains is twisted charcoal, before transferring to the candle, the dying fire roaring back to life, casting a flickering golden glow onto the one holding it.

You’re met once again with red, but now you can see bleached tear tracks running from shoddy holes cut into black cloth, a mask fit for the monster that wears it, and as they stalk ever closer, you belatedly wonder how they’re going to navigate the stairs that must separate the two of you, certain that even someone familiar with a house must need more light in order to not fall. But they never begin their descent, and it’s only when the flame lies mere feet from you, yet so far out of your reach, you realise there are no steps. You’re face to face with a giant.

Adrenaline douses you like a torrent of water, your widened eyes alert and stricken with obvious fear, yet you didn’t expect the gentle touch that encircles your wrist, lungs sucking in a stuttered breath as you stare into the hollow red of its eyes. Large fingers draw your arm upwards, moving your frozen limb with ease, until it’s stretched far above your head, your fingers bumping against the smooth wax of the candle the giant passes off to you. Your brain scrambles for words, screams against the shackles of your fear-addled mind, waiting to release a slew of incoherent pleas for your freedom, yet your lips remain firmly sealed.

You feel a weight in your trouser pocket, eyes darting down to see his fingers pushing a box of matches into the gap of the material, only for your gaze to snap back to him as he hunches down, the material of his mask flowing down as his torso towers over you. You’re left caged against the wall, nowhere to run as his face levels next to your ear. It’s silent for a few horrific seconds, until that same spine-chilling voice purrs one single word.

“Run.”

It’s as though all your body needed was the instruction, responding immediately as you tear away from him, feet slapping against hardwood flooring as you careen towards what vaguely resembles an entrance way. The flame flickers dangerously, threatening to leave you in the dark once again, your fingers curling around the candle, whispering prayers that it doesn’t snuff out, that it doesn't leave you alone with whatever stalks you in the pitch black.

You don’t stop running until you reach a hallway, sprinting down the claustrophobic corridor until you finally reach an open door, rushing inside and pushing hefty wood until it clicks in place, sealing you within, safe for now. You hold up the candle to illuminate more of the room, watching as the soft glow bounces off a glinting gold frame and painstaking strokes of oil paint. An obscenely large portrait hangs on the wall in front of you, the image of a handsome man draped in fine purple robes, shoulder length brown hair pushed back with a crown of golden leaves. He sits in a chair, grand and crimson, lined with bronze, legs spread over the expensive velvet, one large hand curled over his thigh, the other propping his head up, his elbow resting against the arm of the chair in a way that can only be described as unbothered, and unamused. But the thing that has you utterly transfixed are the two red irises that stare right back at you, playful and taunting, and hauntingly familiar.

Surely this isn’t the man under the hood, the one who dragged you into his house and watched you scramble out of his grip the second he told you to flee. Because why would a man so handsome hide his face? Why would someone who looks so young own a house that has stood at the centre of your small village for far longer than you’ve been alive? Nothing seems to make sense, not a single aspect of the past 10 minutes feels real, and you can only hope your friends saw what happened and ran to get help, because you’re not sure there’s a way for you to conquer this man alone. It’s as you’re floundering for answers that you hear a noise from outside the room, instincts taking over as you quickly hide under a small dining table and blow out the candle, praying you haven’t given yourself away.

You’re not entirely stupid, you know the meaning of red eyes, and although you could attempt to soothe your psyche with whispered lies about contact lenses and make believe, you know better. The thing that chases you is no man, and certainly isn’t human, at least not anymore. And as terrified as you are, there isn’t a chance in hell you’re about to let yourself become this monster’s dinner.

You sit in the darkness, clutching the smouldering candle to your chest, and wait. Ears alert as you listen for the slightest sound that might give away your hunter, a breath, a sigh, a scratch, you do little more than hope that your hiding spot remains occupied by you, and you alone.

After a tense few minutes, picking up on no other sounds than the thrumming of your own heart, your fingers slowly make their way to your pocket, gingerly plucking the box out and pushing the case off. Despite the lack of light, and the trembling that consumes your body, you manage to fish out a match, and strike it, holding the newly lit flame to the wick of the candle.

Bleached tears. Red eyes. Large fingers. Looming body.

“Boo.”

The scream rips from your throat before your brain can catch up, the candle abandoned as it’s flung towards him in a last ditch attempt to throw him off, knees and hands protesting as they’re dragged along grooved wood, leaving grazes in their wake. The momentary pain isn’t enough to stop you, however, lungs heaving as you tear out of the room, clumsily bumping into walls and ornaments, impeded by the dark, motivated by sheer determination to live.

Your decision to toss away the candle comes to bite you firmly in the ass the second you find yourself tumbling down a set of stairs, and in a move of sheer instinct your hands attempt to slow your fall, only for the skin of your palm to get caught on a loose nail, slicing the flesh and leaving you wailing as your body finally slows to a stop against the cold stone floor you now find yourself lying on. Every bone in your body hurts, aches, but is overshadowed by the sharp sear of white hot pain as you cradle your torn skin to your chest, warm rivulets of blood oozing down your wrist, tracking rivers of red down your forearm until you hear the steady drip, drip, drip of your blood hitting stone.

A light appears above you, a halo of pastel yellow emanating around black cloth, and within a second, the fight leaves you, slumping further into the floor as you accept your death, hoping none of your friends were stupid enough to follow you only to meet the same pitiful fate.

“Please,” You mumble, voice finally found, entirely too late, “Just make it quick.” You hear little other than a hushed chuckle in response, a cat toying with its food.

“I imagine it looks worse than it is, kleine maus.”

You pause at that, curiosity ebbing through once more. You may not have paid enough attention to languages at school, but even in your state, you know enough to recognise those words.

“You’re German?” You mumble, fear forgotten in your shock-ridden state. The man shakes his head as he crouches next to you, extending his free hand towards the injured one you have secured to your torso, tittering again as you flinch. But you have little other choice than to let him pry your hand away, watching with wary eyes as he examines your sliced skin. He holds the candle closer to the wound, a soft tut passing his lips before he holds the candle towards you, urging you to take it with a gentle nod.

“Austrian. But close.”

It all feels strange, foreign, as though you’re being lulled into a false sense of security just so he can tell you to run once again, laughing maniacally as he watches you bleed over his floor. The fear returns once you have the candle securely in your grip, eyes locked on the way his fingers curl around the material that hides his face, and begin to remove it. Inches of once cloaked skin is revealed, a defined chin melts away to pursed lips, a smattering of dark facial hair that frames his mouth and curls up his jaw, the material pulled further only to reveal a hooked nose, and two narrowed eyes that reflect the candlelight in a way not dissimilar to precious gems, rich and vibrant. Maybe it’s the shock, or limited blood loss, but you can’t help but marvel at just how pretty he is.

Of course, it doesn’t last much longer, not when survival instincts kick in, the realisation that your bloodied hand is now near the mouth of a creature that lives entirely off the thing that keeps you alive. But the grip on your wrist is ironclad, strong yet not uncomfortably so, a strange juxtaposition between monster and man as he cocks his head at your wound. With a nod, seemingly more to himself than you, you can do little more than cry out as you’re hauled over his shoulder, his arm secured tightly around your waist, the hood forgotten in a small puddle of your blood on the stone flags.

It’s mere minutes later that he places you down on soft sheets, your body sinking into a plush mattress, left to watch him as he ambles around the egregiously large room, muttering foreign words under his breath as he roots through an ornate chest of draws. You must be in a fever dream, unsure how you went from running for your life, to being patched up by the very thing you were certain would kill you. And yet, here you are, watching as he almost awkwardly sidles to your seated figure, and kneels in front of you, once predatory eyes unable to hold your gaze as he sets out various medical items by your feet.

“Your hand, may I see it?”

You present your palm to him, watching as his eyebrows knit together, giant hands placing tentative touches against your skin as though he’s concerned about hurting you, the thought of which does nothing to aid your spiralling confusion. But you say nothing, you simply watch as he takes a damp cloth and begins cleaning your cut, fixated on the way his eyes snap to you with every pained hiss and suppressed whine, picking up on the way he ensures each subsequent touch is a tad gentler than the last. It’s not too much longer until he’s wrapping your hand with bandages, making sure the gauze is tight enough to keep your blood in, but not enough to cut off circulation, the type of gentle care you never would have suspected from the giant at your feet. Your curiosity has increased tenfold, not a trace of fear left to lick at your nerves and render you speechless, replaced only by the overwhelming need to know more, to learn everything.

“What’s your name?”

It’s his turn to freeze, ruby irises briefly flitting to yours, rounded with surprise, before they snap back down, making himself busy as he gathers up a scattered array of bloodied cloth.

“I… I have had many. The one most people knew me by was König.” It’s strange, the croon of his voice sounds almost nothing like the one whispered to you in the dark, from low and horrifying, to gentle, almost timid. You’re nothing short of fascinated, leaning forward as you scan over the contours of his face.

“Why’d you drag me into your house and tell me to run?”

“Why were you trying to knock on my door?”

Touché.

Heat licks at the skin of your cheeks at his brazen reminder of your attempted trespassing, your uninjured hand coming to rub at your neck in lieu of a response. After a moment of silence, he sighs, deflating into the plush carpet below.

“It has been a while since I last had any visitors. Your arrival was… Unexpected. You caught me off guard,” He pauses for a moment, pupils dilating as his fingers curl around the rags he holds in his hand, covered in your blood, “It has been even longer since I have been around fresh blood.” It feels surreal to have it confirmed, that the creature that sits before you is one you’ve seen only in movies and read in far-fetched romance novels. Yet, you feel no fear, that emotion all but vanished the second he halted everything just to care for an intruder's wound.

“My friends dared me to knock.” He cocks his head at that, a single eyebrow arching, bemused at your admission. “It’s been a dare for years, no one ever actually had the guts to do it.”

“Until you.”

A pause, your head dipping forward in an unsure nod.

“Until me.”

He’s staring at you unabashedly now, your eyes wandering over the rich details of the bedroom you reside in as an excuse to save yourself from his piercing gaze, an unreadable expression swimming in carmine eyes.

“I am glad it was you.”

You hate the embers of arousal that spark at his words, perturbed by your body’s reaction to seemingly innocent words spoken from a man you were sprinting away from less than an hour ago, and yet his eyes do nothing to put out the fire, intense and smouldering. You can’t bring yourself to look away, nor to quash the way your heart flutters as his torso leans closer to your thighs that subconsciously part to make room for him. The action doesn’t go unnoticed, nostrils flaring as sharp eyes zero in on the way your legs spread against silk sheets.

“And why is that, König?”

It’s as though you uttering his name opens the floodgates, black engulfing vermillion until only a sliver remains, thick fingers circling your shins as he leers further into the gap your parted thighs created, that same ravening stare that once sent fear trickling down your spine now leaves you gasping for breath for an entirely different reason.

“Because I haven’t seen something as pretty as you for a very long time, and I don’t know if I have the strength to stop myself again, maus.”

You couldn’t prevent the whispered whine of his name if you had tried, eyelashes fluttering as you move to curl your fingers in his shirt, giving pathetic little tugs to the soft material of his silk shirt, eyes dipping down to where loose material tucks into black pants. Your back arches, a shameless display of desire as you slide your body closer towards the edge of the bed, and further into his touch.

“Who said anything about stopping?”

Your words remain suspended in the air around you, two sets eyes locked onto each other, blown black with barely-suppressed lust, and yet you don’t dare to make the first move, waiting, wanting for him to shed his timid skin and swallow you whole, become the beast that stalked you through rooms just to feel the thrill of the chase. His hands leave your legs, instead balling up into tight fists against his own thighs, the skin around his knuckles taut as though restraining himself. For a mere moment, you fear he may have changed his mind, that is until he utters the word you craved to hear.

“Run.”

You ignore the lingering ache in your joints, your thighs burning as you dash from the bedroom with renewed purpose, fuelled by the all-consuming thoughts of what’s to come, excited to finally be caught, a far cry from the unbridled terror that sent you scrambling before. This time, he makes no effort to prowl in the shadows, your heart beat soaring as the loud thuds of footsteps echo from behind, the floorboards quaking under your feet from the force of his steps.

You know there isn’t a chance he’s running at full speed, but even then he catches you almost embarrassingly quickly, built arms encircling your waist and crushing you against his torso, bringing you to the floor in an instant, leaving you to writhe helplessly between his body and the floorboards. You don’t give in, however, limbs thrashing, nails clawing against whatever they can reach, whether it be the arms that pin you down, or the wood underneath you, feigning an attempt to escape.

That is until you feel two sharp points dig into your nape, not enough to break skin, but the threat of it leaves you frozen under him, a doe caught in the wolf’s jaws. But you don’t fear the bite like wild prey would, somehow, you crave it, to feel his teeth sink into you, to let him lap at your blood and drain you near dry, anything just to feel like you’re his.

The pressure of sharpened canines begins to lessen, his teeth slowly peeling back from your skin, although anticipating your body to begin thrashing once again. But you remain subdued, the embers now engulfed by crackling flames that lick at your nerves and set your skin alight. It’s only when his hips shift do you feel the tent in his pants pushing against the top of your thighs, your eyes fluttering shut as you push your ass down to grind shamelessly against his cock.

“Temptress,” The word is almost incomprehensible through the growl that reverberates through his throat, a sound that gives away entirely how affected he is, rough and wanting. “You should be trembling beneath me from fear and yet…”

His words trail off, a stuttered gasp replaces your heavy breathing when you feel sizeable fingers trailing down your sides before sliding under your body, cupping your inner thigh. Your heart hammers against your ribcage from the chase, now bolstered by the scandalous touch as his fingers skim past your clothed core, only catching onto the way his fingers curl into the material until it’s too late, hardly leaving you enough time to yelp before he’s tearing you bare below him. The tattered remains of your pants are haphazardly discarded, joined soon by the threadbare silk of your ripped panties, one of your favourite pairs torn in half with hardly an ounce of effort.

“Yet here you are, schätzchen, quivering with need, dripping for the cock of the one that hunts you.”

The rough pad of calloused fingers swipes against your exposed cunt, unable to suppress the heady whine that leaks past your agape lips, your forehead meeting the hardwood floor with a soft thump. That single touch renders you limp, muscles going lax as you melt into the glide of his fingers as they tease your folds, slowing on every up-stroke to rub slow circles against your clit. It’s maddening, the pace in which he picks you apart, leaving you to grind on his fingers like a wanton whore just to feel the surmounting pleasure that builds in response to his touch. A tut sounds from above, heavy breath cascading over your nape as his head dips down, lips dragging from neck to the shell of your ear.

“What a desperate little thing you are, maus, you know what we call things like you in my native tongue?” Your head shakes, a breathy ‘no’ muffled into the floor, “Schwanzschlampe, cock slut.” Embarrassment mixes in equal measure with arousal, curling one of your arms under your head to hide your face, the action short lived as strong arms flip you onto your back, one large hand gathering both your wrists together and pinning them above your head, exposed before him in every way. It’s undeniably more intimate in this position, your eyes given little other option than to lock onto his as his other hand continues to tease your dripping cunt, carmine swimming with unrestrained desire pinning you to the floor as effectively as his near crushing grip on your wrists.

“You can’t hide your pretty face from me, liebling, I want to see how much you crave my touch.” He presses his forehead to yours, low candlelight from lamps that line the corridor walls glint off the two long fangs that peak past reddened lips with every word spoken. And it’s seemingly your turn to catch him off guard, your head tilting upwards to push your lips to his, swallowing his surprised gasp down greedily, arching your chest to push against his. The kiss is desperate, messy, a combination of saliva drips down your chin, moans and rumbled grunts creating a symphony that drifts down the winding halls of his home. With a nudge, you ensure his eyes are locked to yours as you part your lips, your tongue curling over his teeth before brushing over the point of his elongated canine.

With a push, you feel the sting as his fang just barely dips into soft flesh, a drop of blood beading at the surface before you push the muscle to his, locked onto the way his eyes roll to the back of his skull, the growl momentarily starting up again before his lips lock around your tongue, sucking at every morsel of blood that springs from the pinprick cut like a man starved. A man that has most likely been starved of blood directly from the source for more years that you’ve been alive.

If you thought that you’d unlocked the beast within him before, the taste of your blood brings out an entirely new side. His lips part from yours, the crimson in his frenzied eyes transforming before you, as though enriched from just a taste of warm iron. You watch as his pupils dilate and constrict, each push and pull between black and red prove hypnotic as his eyes slowly begin to refocus, the colour to his irises seem dull in comparison to the bright vermillion flecked with gold that peers down at you, still wild with hunger, driven by need.

The moment is broken mere seconds later when his head drops to your neck, sharpened teeth dragging along the throbbing pulse at the base of your throat, and just when you expect the bite, you’re left gasping for an entirely unrelated reason as your shirt comes apart against sharp enamel, shredded where it surrounds your naked torso, leaving you entirely bare. Yet all it takes is a singular glance to realise he remains fully dressed, not a single article shed.

“König,” Your voice comes out strained, practically whining as though prepared to beg, “Let me undress you?”

He pauses for a moment, eyes flicking up to you from under his lashes before the grip on your arms lessens, his legs folding under him as he rights himself into a kneeling position over your body. He suddenly seems unsure, maybe a little self-conscious as you lean up brushing your fingers over flowing pristine white silk, taking your time as you unfasten each button, never once letting your eyes stray from his. And despite the hint of bashfulness, he keeps his gaze pinned to you, a wary lion caught off guard by brave prey.

After the last button falls undone, you let the tips of your fingers trace up revealed skin, before pushing the shirt from his shoulders, and watching as it billows onto the floor, exposing a defined chest highlighted by a smattering of scars that tell stories you could only dream of hearing. He’s nothing short of ethereal, otherworldly in every sense of the word, a behemoth of a beast, with the face of an angel.

“You cover up a lot for a man as handsome as you are.” Your disguised question prompts a flinch, solid fingers clutching into fists at his side, but before you can rush to amend your words, he slumps, resigned to your curiosity.

“I have garnered a reputation I do not wish to catch up to me. It is safer to keep myself hidden, maus.” You make a mental note if you somehow find yourself in his company after this night to ask him more, a carnal need to know everything that makes up the being knelt above you. But you tuck them away for now, refocusing your attention to the waistband of his trousers, deft fingers wasting little time undoing the silver clasp and dragging down the zip until the front peels open.

“Good thing you don’t have to keep hidden in front of me, huh?” Your lips tug upwards into a playful smirk, your hands planting on the solid muscle of his chest before you’re pushing him backwards, letting his legs splay out either side of your now free body before easing both his pants and underwear down the corded muscle of his thigh, marvelling at each inch of skin revealed to ravenous eyes. His trousers join the crumpled mess of clothes that lay scattered across the floor, giving him no time to adjust to his new found nudity before your head is ducking down, tongue flitting out to lick a long strip from the base of his cock to the tip.

Your enthusiasm is immediately rewarded with a faltered whine, watching from under your lashes as his head lolls backwards, trembling fingers coming to cup either side of your face. He’s big, his cock twitching against the defined muscle of his abdomen, thick and long, and nothing short of daunting. Yet you choose to focus on the way your pussy clenches around air at the mere sight of it, overwhelmed by the knowledge that you’ll understand what it is to be split open by him, to be fucked by him. Your tongue darts out once more to press against the tip, the small cut on the surface only just healed over, your spine shuddering at the dulled sting that follows as you begin to take the head of his cock between your lips, mouth stretched almost painfully around the girth.

It does nothing to dissuade you, however, tears clouding your vision of his blissed out expression as you swallow him down deeper, hardly taking more than two inches before your throat spasms around him in protest, coaxing a throaty whimper from spit-shined lips that has your hand darting down to your clit, fingers rubbing desperate circles into soaked flesh.

The following whine that reverberates around his cock swiftly gives you away, crimson eyes focusing in on the way your hand disappears between your thighs, before flitting back to the way your watering eyes remain locked to his, hissing out several curses in German at the sight of your lips wrapped around his straining cock.

“Your mouth… Gott, your fucking mouth,” strong fingers guide your head off his cock, your lips separating from the tip with a lewd pop, strings of saliva and pre-cum connecting your lolled out tongue to his cock. “Need to fuck you, schätzchen, I can’t wait any longer, verdammte hölle—”

You’re not given any warning before he’s pinning your back to the floor, bringing your knees up to your chest and bending you in half, a feat you didn’t know you were capable of before his strong fingers moulded you into the perfect position to take his cock. Folded like this, you can’t help but feel like a doll in his hands, your height and weight rendered meaningless under the sheer size of the monster above you. Trepidation begins to simmer under the surface of your skin, trying to imagine just how your body could ever make room for him.

But he doesn’t leave you much time to fret before his head falls to your thighs, thick fingers twitching from where they hold up your legs as his nose buries into your pubic bone. Long strands of brunette block your vision, startling as you register the feeling of something thick and wet pressing against your folds.

“K-König!” Your cry prompts a responding groan from the man below you as his tongue licks firm stripes up the length of your cunt, glassy eyes drifting up to you as though intoxicated, drunk of the heady taste of your arousal. With a jolt, you’re left helpless to watch as one of his hands slides down your thigh, stuttering through another gasped moan of his name as you feel a single thick digit slide into the wet heat of your pussy, eyes watering at the stretch that merely one of his fingers provides.

He doesn’t hold up, his lips wrapping around your clit and sucking the second he feels your walls clamp around him, slowly easing your muscles into accepting a second finger, distracting you from the momentary pain by lapping his tongue against your engorged clit. But even so, taking two of his fingers feels like more of a challenge than any cock you’ve taken in the past, eyes rolling backwards as he begins to crook them within you, calloused fingers rubbing against the gummy walls of your cunt in a way that has you convulsing around him, warbled sobs hiccuping past your lips as you feel your first climax rip through your body.

“One more, maus, I need you to take one more so I know I won’t hurt you.”

Tears track down your face, still processing the intensity that just wracked your body, but you nod down at him anyway, rewarded with a gentle smile and whispered praise as he cautiously eases a third finger into you, pausing the second he hears a pained hiss after the first knuckle. He hums, placing tender kitten licks against your still throbbing clit, letting you push past tender overstimulation to help pull your mind off the burning stretch, refocusing your attention to the pleasure his mouth provides.

“Doing so well, liebling, almost there…” His words are whispered against your glistening pussy, eyes firmly fixed on yours as he guides you through, until finally all three of his fingers are pushed to the hilt, cooed praise following immediately after.

“König, need you, I need you inside of me, please.” Your sniffled plea evokes nothing more than a playful smile from him as he cocks his head to the side.

“Am I not inside of you right now, maus?” His tone is teasing, words accompanied by a wiggle of the fingers that remain buried in your cunt, coaxing a depraved moan from your already raw throat.

“Your cock, wan’ your cock so bad,” It takes a second to search for the word that sits on the tip of your tongue, your eyes sparking when it finally comes to you, “Bitte, König.”

It’s immediate, the way his fingers pull from your cunt and secure themselves back around your thigh, darkened rubies glinting with that same predatory stare you’re all too familiar with now. He wastes no time as the tip of his cock bumps against soaked folds, your fingers wrapping around his veined shaft as you guide him inside, mouth parting in a silent cry as the tip pushes past the first ring of muscle and leaves you breathless.

There is no mistaking that three of his fingers gave you a mere taste of the stretch, belatedly wondering how on Earth he’ll fit amongst the tight walls of your cunt, and the other organs that surround it. But by some grace of God, he continues to move, inch after thick inch swallowed by your cunt as though it were made for him, a perfect match, the monster and his plaything, the predator and its ever willing prey.

A rush of air finally fills your lungs once the dull slap of his hips meets your ass, unfocused eyes widening as you take in the protrusion of his cock, the bulge obscenely large where it stretches out your skin.

“S’big, you’re so fuckin’ big, what the fuck—”

Slurred rambles are cut off with a searing kiss, passionate and fiery as his hips begin to draw back, swallowing down frenzied curses as he slams back into you, setting a cruel pace right from the start. You never had a chance, you should have known, and yet you regret nothing as he pounds into your abused cunt, your cervix meeting the tip of his weeping cock with each forceful thrust, thick veins rubbing against the walls of your pussy and leaving you glassy eyed and cock-drunk.

Mindless babbles flow from drooling lips, your neck drooping to the side as you hope your eyes convey your needs without resorting to incoherent words. But it takes little more than exposing your throat to him before his lips latch onto the flesh, sucking a line of bruises into your skin before finally settling over your jugular, the only pre-warning of the oncoming bite being the scrape of fangs before they’re puncturing skin, flooding your veins with a venom that has your toes curling, fingernails digging into the muscle of his back and dragging thick red lines against shuddering flesh.

His pace never falters, hips still careening against yours as his lips suck around the two minute incisions, drinking down your blood with a thirst you’ve never witnessed. Whether it’s the subduing poison that flows through your bloodstream, or the shift of hips as his cockhead nudges the walls of your cunt in a way that has stars blooming behind your eyelids, you find yourself hurtling into another climax, whimpered cries and bloodied nails evidence of your earth-shattering orgasm.

His lips finally part from your skin with a slick sigh, lips painted the most beautiful shade of crimson that drips down his chin, a line that marks your possession, evidence he’s consumed by you, drunk on you. And it’s as you lean down, your tongue dragging against the bloodied stubble of his chin, lapping up what remains of your scarlet ichor, that he finally succumbs to the pleasure, his cock jolting within you as he releases seemingly endless spurts of cum against your cervix, buried as deep within your body as biology will allow.

Panted breaths intermingle as his forehead presses flush to yours, lidded eyes, now nearly entirely consumed by gold peers at you, an interesting mix of fascination and something that looks almost fond discernible in his gaze. You still have so many questions, intrigued and just a little bit obsessed with the man above you, yet it’s apparent that your feelings are far from unrequited, and one day, every question that burns at your tongue and begs for answers will be satiated. For now, you’ll bask in his looming presence and tender care, grateful to have found him in the first place, however unfortunate the initial meeting was.

Just as his lips ghost against yours, the distant sound of creaking has you both freezing in place.

“H-Hello? You still in here?”

“... Scheiße.”

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imyourbratzdoll · 1 year

Text

𝒎𝒓𝒔 𝒉𝒐𝒘𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒕

this is part 2 of just a bet.

summary - when the reader left steve after finding out she was just a bet, she found a new home and a new family, followed by meeting the love of her life, logan.

warning - fluff, angst, swearing.

the gifs I use aren’t mine, divider by @newlips

But every fairytale has a happy ending.

After everything that had happened with Steve and being a bet, I never thought I’d find love or trust someone again. But then he came along… Logan Howlett. Gaining the room's attention with his fluffy hair and bulging muscles, but what caught my attention was his ‘give no shit’ attitude and the fact that when we first met, he didn’t try to get into my pants or hit on me. Logan simply glared and snarled before walking away.

But I didn’t blame Logan for how he was because when he first met me. I was the same. I was closed off, and albeit I didn’t glare or snarl at him, I wasn’t exactly the friendliest, and it was all because of how one man and his friends managed to make me feel below myself and unloved.

Over the years, Logan and I would briefly talk if needed, I don’t know when it started, but one day I woke and felt my heart begin to skip a beat whenever I’d look at him or catch him staring. I found that my cheeks would constantly become a rosy pink around him, and it scared the hell out of me because this was how I felt with Steve before everything happened, and I didn’t want to go through that pain again, even if it meant shielding myself from love forever.

It took a while for me to warm up to Logan, especially when he began to warm up to me. Charles told me that I was special and that Logan has always been grumpy, but he’s been more closed off ever since Jean. Which was a shock once I learnt everything that happened between the two and how she still chose Scott even though she made Logan feel special and made him think he had a chance.

In my mind, all of this was a mess. I spent time building walls just for this burly wolf-like man to walk into my life and knock them down. I remember when Logan and I had an actual conversation with no snarkiness or sarcasm, and it was just peaceful.

I’m standing outside, tending to the flowers, the one thing that brought me peace when I arrived here. “You know, staring isn’t polite.” I turn my head slightly, looking at Logan, taking in his white tank top and jeans as he leans against a tree, a cigar held loosely between his lips. His piercing blue eyes stare daggers into me over his sunglasses.

Logan huffs as he pushes himself off the tree and walks over to me, “why are you always out here? Tending to these stupid weeds?” The deep rumble of his voice rolls off his tongue and sends shivers through my body.

I squint up at him, the sun blinding me. “It calms me. The only thing that’s brought me peace out of this hellhole of a world.” Without thinking, Logan takes his sunglasses off and puts them on me. My heart nearly bursts out of my chest at the action, “thank you.” I give him a soft smile before looking down at the flowers with crimson cheeks.

“Do you mind if I join you?” He grunts, the question startles me. I shyly nod, never expecting those words to leave the man’s mouth. The thought of finally having someone to share this with causes my heart to warm, hopefully.

Logan and I spend the next few hours talking, him sometimes helping me tend to the flowers or standing back watching me. His presence comforted me more than anyone’s had in my lifetime; for a second, it was scary.

I blink as the memory of our first real conversation flashes through my mind, and a gentle smile is brought to my face. “What’s got you all happy?” The sound of the familiar gruff voice still brings butterflies to my stomach. Logan walks into my view and bends down, pecking my lips. “Is there someone else I don’t know about, Mrs Howlett?”

My breath hitches, one at his taste and two as he calls me by my new last name. I give him a bright smile, leaning forward to provide him with another kiss as our eyes connect. “Only you, Mr Howlett. It’ll only ever be you.” The feel of his arms wrapping around me causes me to feel safe, my eyes closing as I give my complete trust to my husband.

I know you all may be confused about the big jump, but I couldn’t give away the goods straight away now, could I? As you’ve seen, Logan and I didn’t like each other immediately, and then we slowly began warming up to one another. You saw our very first genuine conversion and then straight to us being married. I won’t let you miss our big day, so don’t worry!

After our conversation, weeks went by of us continuing that pattern until he suddenly asked me on a date. At first, I was hesitant, and for obvious reasons, but he looked me in the eyes and told me he was a grown man and not a spoilt child. Just because someone else threw away a perfect toy doesn’t mean he will. And yes, he said toy, but I didn’t take offence to that because, honestly, what he said was sweet, especially from a man like Logan.

That day, he took me out on a picnic. Complimenting me on the pretty pastel yellow sundress I wore, he picked my favourite flowers and bought my favourite food. We sat, ate and shared stories. Our first date was when Logan found out how and who hurt me, and that was when I also learned about his past from him. He held me against his warm body when night fell as we watched the stars. That was the night we fell in love with each other, and many more dates came after before Logan brought me back to the exact spot of our first date and proposed.

I never thought I’d find love again, but Logan brought me back to life, and I’m grateful. Now the day of our wedding was my favourite, I didn’t expect a tough man like Logan to cry, but he did.

My dress trailed behind me as I walked down the aisle toward my happiness. My eyes lit up with joy as they connected with Logan, who had tears rolling down his face. When I got close, Charles handed me off, offering us a smile.

Logan and I looked at each other with nothing but love. Storm began to speak, and we both repeated what she said, never once taking our eyes off one another. Not even when we had to grab our rings before Storm could tell Logan he could now kiss the bride, I interrupt.

“Kiss me,” I whispered, my voice soft and full of love.

Logan raised a brow as he smiled, “You always order me about.”

“Kiss me.”

“Are you sure?” He murmured, his mouth curved into a wolfish smile. “Because once I do, I might not be able to–”

I grabbed the back of his head and yanked him down. Our lips connect and move with passion. His arms wrap around me, and large hands splayed on my back as he dips me. We both smile into the kiss as cheers explode from the seats. Logan and I slowly disconnect from one another, looking into each other’s eyes as we smile.

“I love you, Mr Howlett.”

“And I love you, Mrs Howlett.”

“Darling.” I blink as I’m brought out of another memory, and my eyes connect with Logan's blue ones. “Where’d you go again?” I offer a happy smile.

“I was remembering our wedding day.” Logan’s face breaks into a giant grin as he remembers it.

“Well, c’mon, there’s someone outside looking for ya, and Charles won’t tell me who.” I nod, standing up and walking out of the room with him. Our hands interlaced as we entered the main room. I tighten my grip on Logan’s hand as I feel the tension.

“Logan said there was someone here for me?” I watch as my new family gulps before Charles rolls forward and says a name I’d never thought I’d hear again.

“Steve managed to find where you were, and he wouldn’t leave until you heard him out.” Charles rolls toward me, grabbing my hands and ignoring Logan’s growls. “We did try and make him leave, Y/n. Please know we would never try to hurt you intentionally.”

“It’s okay, and I guess it was going to happen sooner or later.” I take a deep breath before turning toward the man who caused me trouble. “What do you want, Steve? I thought I told you to go to hell?” I hold back the smile, desperately trying to escape at Logan’s chuckle.

Steve rubs the back of his neck as he goes to take a step toward me but reconsiders as Logan glares menacingly and growls. “I came to say I regret everything, and these past few years have been hell for me.” Steve stands tall, squaring his chest, when he realises Logan isn’t leaving my side. “I want you back. Don’t you want to be mine again?” I scrunch my nose at the words that leave his mouth, quickly placing my hand on Logan’s chest to stop him from ripping the man apart.

I walk forward, desperately wanting to wipe the smug smirk that rests upon Steve’s face. “Steven, you would be the last man I’d ever get with if we were the only ones alive.” The smirk slowly slides off his face, but I don’t stop. “You may think you can get any woman you want even after ripping their hearts out and stomping on it because of how you look, but you didn’t always look like this, did you, Steve?” Feeling the anger deep inside, I get in his face. “Remember when you were just a little guy and women would mock you? They’d rip your heart out and pierce it with their heels because you weren’t worth their time.”

Steve gulps, looking at the group of people behind me for help, but all he receives are malicious smiles. Fear spiked within him when his eyes connected with Logan’s before quickly looking down at me. “Well, guess what, Stevie? You aren’t worth anyone’s time now, and god, I wish I could punch your stupid face for what you did to me.”

Steve smugly smiles. “Do it.” The taunting tone causes my fist to twitch. My eyes trail down his body before coming back up and connecting with his eyes. ‘Typical, men always think they know everything.’

“Alright.” I smile, pulling my fist back before a crunching sound fills the room as my fist connects with his nose. I watch as Steve falls to the ground and follow by leaning down, level with his ear. “You ever come near me again, and no one will ever find your body.” I stand and walk away, needing some air.

Logan’s POV.

‘Fuck, I desperately wanted to kiss the life out of my wife right now.’ I thought as I watched her leave, followed by everyone else. I walk over to the pathetic sack of meat on the ground. Swiftly pulling out a cigar and lighting it, I stand over him.

Steve slowly looks up at the intimidating man, blood dripping from his broken nose. “I do care for her. She’s–”

“Not yours,” I gruffly finish. “They are my rings on her finger. It’s my name she’s taken, and it’s my bed, she shares.” I growl out the following words. “She is mine. So whether you care for her or not isn’t fucking relevant.” I grunt, puffing out some smoke with every word I speak.

Steve swallows, a groan falling from his lips at the pain. “She was mine first.”

I roll my eyes, wanting to stick my claws through his chest to put myself out of this misery. “And you shouldn’t have been a dick. You made a bet and let her go, and that was your mistake.” Feeling done with the conversation, I walk in the direction my wife left. Leaving the mess on the floor.

The moment I spot her, I let out a sigh of relief and make my way over with long strides, needing my wife in my arms. When I reach Y/n, my arms instinctively wrap around her as I nuzzle my face into her neck. “Mine.”

She leans into me as she lets out a breathy whisper. “Yours.”

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

I hope you liked part 2 @paarthurnax59

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gejo333 · 4 months

Text

Unexpected Match VII

DILF/DBF Miguel O’Hara x Female Reader

Pt. 1 Pt.8

18+ Warning!!

Summary: You and the O’Hara’s go away on a small family vacation upstate.

We’re back!!!

Happy to have another chapter out! Next one is going to have a lot of drama! I apologize for any grammar mistakes, I haven’t fully looked this over yet. But I hope you enjoy!

Wc: 5.2k

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The fall crisp air was becoming a winter chill as you gaze at the golden leaves falling from the trees. You turn your head towards the left as you smile softly at the curly brunette man. Miguel's phone buzzed, a photo of you carrying Gabi as you both smiled at the camera from one of the many days you had gone to the park. A small smile crept on to your face as you hadn't noticed he changed his Home Screen from the photo he's kept of baby Gabi on his phone since you first met him.

You turned your head and smiled at the adorable sight of a sleeping Gabi, as her head rested against her car seat. Suddenly, the thought of another car seat next to Gabi crossed your mind. Sudden realization of your thoughts made your cheeks red. You smiled as giving a few siblings for Gabi after your career is steady would be nice.

Miguel drove the car into the entrance of the family campsite. Two weeks ago Gabi had brought up that every year they leave the city to do a weekend camping trip at a family camp, where Gabi explained that there's a bunch of fun activities to do at the kid center. You were really happy when both Miguel and Gabi wanted you to come with them. You knew you lived with them for a few months now and felt like a family, the impending conversation with your parents has created some stupid insecurities to pop in your mind. But every time the thoughts pop up your happily reminded of Gabi's joyous laughter and Miguel's loving words, that you wouldn't change anything for this in the world.

"We're here." Miguel parked the car as you both got out. You went around the car and opened it up to Gabi's side. You unbuckled her from her car seat.

"Hey, baby bug. It's time to wake up. We're here." You said softly as you gently brushed some of the hair sticking out of her pony tail behind her ear. Your heart melted at the sight of her yawning and rubbing her eyes of any sleep before you saw her bright brown eyes. You helped her out of her seat as she was still trying to wake up. As soon as she got a look of her surroundings she perked up instantly.

"Yay! We're here!" Gabi ran on to the grass next to the parking lot.

"Please stay close Gabi, while your papa and I unload the car." You say smiling at her happy attitude as you watch her play around in the grass.

"Will do!" She said looking at you with one of the iconic O'Hara smiles.

You heart almost stopped as an arm wrapped around your waist and whisked you behind the car to the open trunk before being slightly dipped and kissed. You happily returned the kiss as your arms wrap around his neck to deepen it. The kiss ended with another quick kiss or two, as he stood you up straight but still wrapped in each others arms.

"Loved that. But what was it for?" You chuckle as you brush strands of his hair back in his iconic hair style.

"I'm just really happy. Ever since I saw you again, I just never felt this happy before. Of course I was really happy when it was just Gabi and I, but I just feel complete now that I have the two most important girls in my life."

"I've never been more happy being with you and Gabi. The perfect small family bubble." You press one more kiss to his lips before you untangle from each other and begin to unpack.

"Maybe our family bubble can grow bigger one day." Said Miguel as he took a cooler and set in on the ground. Your eyes widen from his comment.

"Doesn't sound like a bad idea. But maybe after putting a ring on this finger." You chuckle as you tease him.

"Sounds like a good idea. I'll keep it in mind."

"Wait...are you saying you might propose one day?" You paused when you heard his response.

"Yes." He smiled as he took something else from the trunk out. Your heart briefly stopped from his response. You smiled as you went on your toes to kiss his cheek.

"Sounds like a good idea." You say as you grab the last thing from the trunk and set it down before Miguel closes it and locks the car.

"Princesa, we're heading to the cabin." Said Miguel as he picked up majority of the things with out breaking a sweat as you helped carry the last two bags.

"Okay!" Gabi ran over to you both as she skipped slightly ahead, stopping and turning to make sure you and Miguel were still following her.

A few minutes later you made it to the cabin.

You were stunned when you saw it. It wasn't just a simple cabin, but a large two floor cabin with a double door entrance. You realized this family camping site wasn't your run of the mill place. It must have cost a lot to stay here.

When Miguel opened the door and the three of you entered you were even more amazed by the interior design. It was as if the wood cabin was made for the heavens.

"Papa! Can we go to the kid center?" Gabi said from the stairs.

"I'm sorry princesa. We arrived pretty late. Everyone's probably back with their families having dinner. But I promise we'll take you first thing tomorrow." Miguel said as he set down everything in the entryway next to the things you brought in.

"Ok, papa." You saw the disappointment in her eyes despite her trying to hide it, which stung you heart.

"Hey Gabi. Have you ever made a fairy house before?" You say as you begin to unpack things like Miguel and put them in the right places.

"No, what's that." Gabi's interest peaked from your words, districting her from her sadness.

"Well, when I was little and use to go camping, my grandmother told me that fairies lived in the forests all around and that not all of them have homes. So with my brothers and grandmother we would find sticks, leaves, and acorn caps and build tiny houses for the fairies to live in."

"Really! Can we build one?" Gabi's eyes sparkled from your small story as she ran towards you from the stairs.

"Of course! We can build one right outside the cabin. But let's help finish unpacking with Papa and then we can build it."

Miguel smiled as he watched you and Gabi from the window building a tiny fairy house on the side of the giant tree a few feet from the cabin. His heart swelled every time you glanced over and smiled at him. Everytime he saw you it felt like he was falling for you all over again.

20 minutes later Gabi ran back into the cabin calling for Miguel to come outside to see the fairy house. "Alright mija, I'm coming." Miguel chuckled as he was led outside by his overly excited daughter. Stoping right in front Gabi, crouched on her knees as you stood up and Miguel wrapped an arm around your waist pulling you to his side as he kiss the top of you head.

"Look what me and Y/n built! This is where the fairies can get their mail from their friends. Look! Y/n made a roof that can be removed, so we can check on the fairies. here is the bedroom. There are two beds so that the fairy can have a sleep over with her friends. This is the dinning room where they eat. And here is a tiny toilet too!" Gabi giggled from her last sentence which melted both of your hearts. "How will we know they came?" Added Gabi as she looked up at you.

"When you see fairy dust scattered around the house, that means they were here."You words made Gabi's eyes light up as she got up and gave you and Miguel a hug together. With ease Miguel picked up Gabi with on arm as he directed you both back into the cabin for dinner.

After dinner and more chatter about the fairies, a yawning Gabi indicated that it was time to go to bed. Miguel picked her up as you turned off all the lights downstairs before all three of you made it up stairs where you entered the first bedroom. Already in her pjs you and Miguel tucked her into bed before saying good night. "Y/n?"

"Yes my baby bug?"

"Can we check the fairy house tomorrow morning?"

"Of course we can. Good night sweetheart. Have sweet dreams." You and Miguel both leave, closing her door before heading down the hall and around the corner to the master bedroom.

As you entered the room you gasped when you felt arms lift you up in a bridal position as Miguel carried you to the bed, laying you down on it.

"Miguel we have to get out of our clothes." You giggle as he wouldn't let you out of his hold. You turn to face him, already meet his gaze on you.

"Te amo, hermosa." Miguel brushed some strands of your hair behind your ear before leaning down to capture your lips, which you melted into. The kiss continued into a loving make out session. Lips on lips or on skin.

In a slight daze you somehow straddled his lap as you continue the semi-heated session. You give him on last kiss on the lips before siting up, still on top of him. You felt a starting erection poke your thigh as you straddle, his hand on your waist as he lightly moved your hips on him.

A mischievous thought popped up in your head. You were curious how much and how long you could tease him before you got in trouble. Last time you made him sexually frustrated you didn't get a wink of sleep all night and sore the for the rest of the week.

You moved your hips a little bit more, earning a small groan from his lips as you felt his erection grow, making you slip out a small moan. You continue like this for a little more before you unstraddle him and get off the bed.

"Cariño, come back here." Miguel huffed as he gave you a light glare for getting off him in the middle.

"Mhmm nope." You try to hid your smile as you begin to undress.

"Y/n, I'm warning you. Come back over here." Miguel's gaze scanned up your body as you were only left in a matching pair of white lace underwear.

"Please, mi amor." You smiled when you saw his slight bothered state as you turned around to walk into the master bathroom to remove your makeup. Even before you could get your makeup remover you heard footsteps came your way before you could turn around you were thrown over Miguel's bare shoulder "Miguel." You chuckled as he carried you back to the bed where he gently threw you on on to your stomach. Miguel got behind you, before leaning over to whisper in to your ear.

"You know better than to test me, hermosa."

You wake up the next morning, feeling sore between your legs. You sit up, still groggy as you look outside the window to the beautiful view. You feel arms wrap tighter around your waist. Turning to look the the man next to you, you smile down at him as he places kisses up your side to your neck as he sat up next to you.

"Good morning."

"Good morning, mi amor. How did you sleep?" He smirked as you gave him an slightly annoyed look, before wiping it away with a kiss to your lips.

"I slept well. Luckily you were tired from driving up here. Or I think I wouldn't be able to walk today."

"Well, I would have gone easier if you didn't tease me like that." Miguel moved your legs to lay over his lap, lifting you to sit on his lap as he

leaned back on the bed frame. You wrapped your arms around his neck as you placed a kiss on his lips again. "I was thinking, after dropping Gabi off at the kid center that we go on a hike." Miguel said.

"Sounds perfect."

"Good. Make sure to wear a bathing suit."

"Ooo, ok. I can't wait." After relaxing in comfortable silence, being in each others arms more than enough you both take a shower, Miguel needing to carrying you as your legs were too sore to walk.

After getting dressed you both go downstairs where you both made breakfast together you noticed that little O'Hara was still upstairs asleep. Miguel went up to go wake her up and a couple minutes later he carried her down the stairs towards the kitchen.

"Good morning baby bug. How did you sleep?" You say as you place a kiss to the top of her head and placing a plate of scrambled eggs, sausage, and fruit in front of her.

"Good! Can we check the fairy house?" Pleaded Gabi.

"How about you eat your breakfast and then we can go check." Said Miguel as he passed you a cup of coffee, which you happily took.

"Ok!" Gabi began to eat her food fast.

"Gabi, don't rush eating. You can choke. Please eat slower." You worried.

"But what if the fairies are gone by the time I'm done?"

"Fairies wake up super early to go to work, so we won't see them sadly. But, I'm very sure they were there." You added.

After Gabi properly ate her food you helped her put on her shoes before the three of you walked outside into the fresh morning air. Gabi ran to the fairy house and took off the roof, a gasp leaving her before she jumped up and down with a wide smile on her face.

"They were here! They were here! Look! There's fairy dust! And the bed was used. And look! They left some food on the table!" Gabi pointed out with a big smile on her face.

"Wow, that's so cool." Miguel brought you close and kissed the side of your head, before whispering a thank you.

"Alright Princesa. Let's gets you ready so we can take you to the kid center." Said Miguel, which Gabi happily ran back into the house.

You helped put on Gabi's shoes as the two of you waited for Miguel. However, he came down the stairs on the phone, and annoyed look on his face. You give him a worried look for seeing him stressed. He walked over to you saying, "Peter, you know that I'm with my family upstate. What's happening?" His brows furrowed as he pinched the bridge of his nose with his hand, clearly frustrated by whatever was being said to him. You placed your hand in his empty one, giving him a gently squeeze to get his attention.

"One moment Peter. Are you ok, hermosa?" His looked quickly became soft and loving when his attention was on you.

"Gabi's getting a bit impatient to go to the kid center. I was offering to walk her over and get her settled there." You smile up at him.

"That would be great, thank you." Miguel placed a quick kiss to your lips and then a kiss to the top of Gabi's head before he went back on the call.

You and Gabi walked out of the Cabin, and following the signs walking over to the kid center.

"Y/n? Why isn't Papa coming with us?"

"He had to take an quick emergency call with work."

"Oh. That happens sometimes. Papa sometimes can't stop work from taking up all his time. But ever since you moved in he's been a lot better, which makes me really happy because I get to spend even more time with Papa." Gabi smiled up at you as she continued to hold your hand, walking to the kid center.

"That makes me happy that I was able to help."

"Papa loves you a lot. Like a lot. But I win, cause I love you most!"

"I love you the most too Gabi." You stop as you kneel down and pull her into a hug, which she happily accepts.

A few minutes passed by and you and Gabi made it to the kid center. As you entered the building you walked up to the front where a camp counselor of sorts greeted you with a warm smile.

"Good morning! Welcome to the kid center. Are you here to go on super cool adventures?" The camp counselor said as she looked at Gabi.

"Yeah!" Gabi smiled.

"Perfect! And what's your first and last name?"

"Gabi O'Hara."

"Welcome Ms. O'Hara. Let me talk to your mom and have her fill out a few forms for you and then you can join the rest of the kids." Your eyes widen slightly when you were mentioned as Gabi's mom. You didn't want to correct the women as Gabi didn't seem bothered by the mistake. And in truth, you were bothered by it either. You did love Gabi as your daughter, even though you knew you aren't her biological mother. You hoped maybe she saw you at a mother figure.

After reading over the permission slip forms and signing them you handed them back to the woman.

"Perfect. Ok, Gabi, you can follow me."

You kneel down as Gabi gives you a hug.

"Papa and I will pick you up in a few hours. Have fun." You give her one last hug before she waves goodbye and walks with the camp counselor to the main area.

As you walked back towards the Cabin you felt like something was off. You felt the hair on your neck stand up. As if someone was watching you. Just to satisfy your nerves your turn back to see no one. You shrug if off, obviously you needed more coffee. You picked up the pace as the feeling wouldn't go away, as you sped walked all the way back to the Cabin, where you quickly unlocked the door and closed it behind you before locking it again. You look out the window to see a woman walk by. You didn't recall her walking behind you. Maybe it was just a coincidence. Your stomach dropped when you felt arms wrap around you, making you jump.

"Lo siento, cariño. I didn't mean to scare you. Y/n? Is everything ok?" Miguel asked, concern etched in his voice as he gave you a worried look.

"I'm fine. I just felt a bit off on my walk back. For some reason I thought someone was following me on my way back. But I think it was just my mind playing tricks on me." Your words didn't reassure your boyfriend as he opened the door to scan the area. He closed the door as he kept you in his arms to help calm your nerves.

"Would you like to stay in the cabin? We can watch a movie in the bedroom or living room."

Miguel offered.

"no, let's go on our hike. It'll be nice to enjoy nature. Plus, my big strong boyfriend can help protect me." You dramatically bat your eyelashes as you wrap your arms around one of his biceps, to which he chuckled as he took your chin and kissed you. "I'll make sure to protect you, mi amor."

You both changed into clothes to go on a nice walk as you both walked outside and begin your walk. You took Miguel's hand in yours to which he smiled leaned down and kissed you lovingly before you started your walk.

Ten minutes into the hike, was comfortable silence until Miguel decided to speak. "I've taken this hike once before. And I found something, which will be a surprise until we get there." Miguel grinned as he saw the pout on your face before you replaced it with a smile. "Well I can't wait to see what it is."

"I think I'm going to tell my parents at the Christmas party." You add which Miguel gave you a soft and warm smile. "I'll be there for you. Let's hope they take it well."

"I'm hoping so. But since it's a week away, I know it might be a lot, but I think we should have a plan in case it goes south."

"Like what?" Miguel's breath held waiting to your your words.

"Well, if they don't take it well they'll probably get upset and say things they'll regret. Maybe you take Gabi back home. I don't her having to experience anything bad, especially around Christmas."

"Y/n, I really want to be right with you. It's about us. I'm not going to leave you if it goes south." Miguel gives you a serious look, you sigh knowing he wouldn't let you do it by your self.

"I don't want Gabi to witness anything bad."

"And she won't. If it goes south we'll just leave. And to not be bothered, we'll spend Christmas in the city."

"The city? Where?"

"At my apartment. The one Gabi and I moved from to here. We left almost everything besides essentials. I'll have a Christmas tree delivered and set up."

"Well, that sounds like a plan. I hope it goes well. But honestly, I don't care what they think. I'll just be relieved to finally be able to show my love for you anywhere." You stopped, Miguel following right after as he smiled and brought you close to him as you both looked at each other in perfect silence.

"I can't wait to tell the world how much I love you."

You walk hand in hand in a comfortable silence, only talking when either of you point out something beautiful or interesting. Enjoying the walk, you didn't realize how far you walked until Miguel stopped.

"Close your eyes. Your surprise awaits." Miguel grinned. You smiled as you closed your eyes, before Miguel placed an arm around your waist and pulled you close so you he could guide you. After a minute you heard the thunderous sound of rushing water. Miguel stopped as leaned down lips against your ear as he said, "you can open your eyes now."

When you open your eyes, they widened, amazed by the gorgeous waterfall and swimming hole. The water was a beautiful crystal blue, something you though you would never see so up north.

"It's so beautiful. Thank you for showing this place to me." You turn to face Miguel as you give him a hug and kiss to the lips, thanking him for the surprise.

"I'm glad you love it, hermosa. Would you like to take a swim?" Miguel grinned after he saw you nod and smile.

"One little problem though."

"And what's that?"

"I forgot to wear a bikini. Guess I only have my birthday suit to wear." You giggle as you see lust cloud Miguel's eyes. You step away from him as you begin to shed your clothing. Only left in your panties you slipped them off before tossing them into the pile. You then walk into the water, relieved that it was warm, going in until your chest deep. You turn to face Miguel who was still on the shoreline, now removing his boxers, as his erect cock bounced out, relieved to be free from its restraints.

He walks into the water before making it right in front of you. You knew there was a stark height difference between you both, but standing at the same level of water, where your chest deep and his was still above made you even more self aware of it. Holding your waist and pulling you against him you feel his erection against your stomach, making your cheeks slightly red. Miguel leans down capturing your lips wis his. Not long were the kisses becoming more intense, as he moved his lips from you chin to your neck where he found that sweet spot. A moan escapes your lips as Miguel's hand move from your waist down to your thighs, lifting you up and wrapping your legs around his waist and arms around his neck for stability. A moan by you and a groan from Miguel came when he sunk you down onto his cock. Although you were plenty wet from the water, the lack of prep made you tighten around him, earning another groan from him.

"Hermosa, you have to loosen up a bit or I won't last much longer."

You moaned out loud as you tried to adjust to his size. As soon as he felt you were relaxed, he began to ram his hips up into you, You were in slight pain, but it didn't bother you as you were overcome with pleasure. As one of his hands held your hips in place, the other began to play with one of your breasts as he used his fingers to play with your nipple, making you gasp.

You lower your hand to your clit to help relieve some of your arousal. However, as soon as your fingers touched your sensitive area, Miguel snatched your wrist and moved it to your side as you groaned in frustration.

"Miguel." You whine as you lay your head back against his shoulder.

"Sorry, cariño. Not going happen yet. You just have to sit here and take my cock in this pretty little pussy of yours." Miguel whispered in your ear before kissing and marking up along your neck.

Your lips connect into a heated kiss. The water splashes around from the movement of both your bodies.

"This take me back to the time we first met. In that private pool back in Miami."

"At least now I know your mine and that this won't end tomorrow." Miguel said as he smiled against your lips before kissing you again.

"Please touch me Miggy."

"What was that hermosa?" Miguel chuckled as your rolled your eyes.

"Please Miguel."

" As you wish." Miguel lowered his hand as he began to rub your clit. A moan escapes you as you arch your chest against his.

"Cum for me." He whispered as your eyes rolled back from the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body as you came from your high.

Miguel groaned as he felt your walls tighten around his cock. "You always feel so good, mi amor, I never want to leave." Miguel bucked his hips into you one last time before you felt him spill deep inside you. Miguel rode out his high before he removed himself from you, capturing your lips one last time.

Miguel found a place in the water to rest against as you both relaxed in the warm water basking in the beauty of your surroundings. After some time you both decided you needed to head back to take a shower and get changed before picking up Gabi at the kid center.

Getting dressed you walked hand in hand back to the cabin, where your both got in the shower to save time, and to maybe have another quick session before washing off and getting ready.

You both head and walk towards the kid center as you wrap yours arms around Miguel's bicep, to which he places a kiss to your cheek saying, “ I love you.” As you look up to him with a loving smile replying, “I love you more.”

When you arrive to the kid center you see other parents picking up their kids, walking in you see Gabi talking with a few other girls before spotting you and Miguel. She waved goodbye before running into your arms, as you pick her up.

“How was your day?”

“It was amazing! We played games in the grassy field, and we made s’mores. I ate two. And I told my friends that we built a fairy house, and that a fairy stayed there over night. They thought that was really cool.”

“Two smores! Are you going to be able to have one tonight?” Miguel said making Gabi’s eyes widen.

“Yes! I can still have more! I’m not full.”

“Ok princesa. I’ll trust you on this one. Let’s go sign you out.” As you carry Gabi you and Miguel walk to the camp counselor you talked to this morning.

“Hi Mr. And Mrs. O’Hara. Gabi had a really fun day. She told us about how she built a fairy house with her mom. Everyone loved it they were all built them too. And might make it a fun activity to do at the kid center.” Your eyes widen, when she mentioned you again being Gabi’s mom. It melted your heart to think that Gabi called you her mom to other kids. You wondered if she was too shy to call you mom. Maybe because you only have been living with them for almost 4 months. You glanced at Miguel when the counselor made the mistake, but you noticed his smile only widened by the comment.

After signing Gabi out, you set her down and she wanted to hold both your and Miguel’s hand as you walked back to the cabin, where Miguel decided to start making dinner while you helped Gabi wash up and change her clothes.

After dinner Miguel received a call and took it in the living room when you took all the dishes and began to wash them in the kitchen. You heard him end the call before turning on the cartoons on the tv for Gabi to watch before you heard his footsteps walk into the kitchen.

“Do you need any help with the dishes?”

“Nope, just have this last plate. Then I’m done.”

“The person I was on the phone with was real estate agent. I bought this cabin.” He said.

Your eyes widened turning to him. “That’s amazing. I thought this place was a campsite?”

“It is. But you can buy the properties and some of the land around it so we can expand it. It’s just been an amazing time up here this time around, and I want to make it an official tradition to come up here. Like a family place away from the hustle and bustle of Nueva York and the prying eyes of our neighborhood.”

“I think that a great idea. It’s so beautiful up here. It definitely is a nice place to go to get away from everything and everybody.”

“I think we should tell Gabi on Christmas. It’ll be one of her gifts. A gift for all of us.” Miguel smiles.

After you finish cleaning up the kitchen you spend the rest of the night watching a family movie, as you cozy up with Miguel on the couch with Gabi on his other side.

The next morning you all woke up early to pack and put everything in the car before driving back home. While packing things into the car with Miguel you felt that familiar off feeling, like someone was watching you. You decided not to bring it up to Miguel this time, not wanting to worry him as you thought it might have been your imagination.

As everyone got in the car and drove away, unnoticed by either you nor Miguel were brown eyes in another car nearby watching from afar.

————————————————————————

Hope you enjoyed it!💕

Tag List

@felixthemochicat @pedr0swh0r3 @thel0velykey190 @myownsimp @angel-xx-1 @thedevax @cheezit-luv3rr @comicalbliss @rjreins @incustellar @ricekrisbris @marvelofcourse @ozzmodeus-main @s0fia4 @ghost-lantern @minalovesubabes @yume904 @shinyberry69 @freehentai @livytofine @rjasmine2021 @bigbassbug @tired-writer04 @brokvnszn @isastarall @eddiestitmiguelsbigdick @cold-blooded-girls @ewan-tef @bammzyboomy @icedcoffeeisyummy @scaleniusrm @jojos-wife @jakelockleysdoll @iheartlinds @koteri @montyrokz @crimsonriot06-7 @p1nkliquor @pueduricany @l3laze @freeingrebels @facelessfionna @zoey5252 @jaxyy219 @pookiesnatcher @deputy-videogamer @migueloharastruelove @gr0vndz3ro @n1tingal3 @casuallyawkardd

#miguel o'hara #spider man 2099 #spider man: across the spider verse #miguel x reader #oneshot #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara x y/n #oneshot requests #atsv miguel #miguel x you #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o’hara fic #miguel #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #miguel o’hara smut #father miguel o’hara

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karmavongrim · 1 year

Text

Love Spell fanfic idea

DP x DC fanfiction idea named "Love Spell" that I have been mulling over the past couple of weeks.

Klarion x Danny shipping (Chaotic Spirits) story, because why not and it would be fun to write about the chaos these two could cause.

Took some inspiration from this, this, bit of this and this.

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Danny really didn’t know whatever he should laugh, cry or flip the nearest table he could get his hands on. He never really thought highly of the Justice League to begin with, hell, you would be hard-pressed to find anybody in Amity Park who did nowadays.

But this… this could just as well take the metaphorical cake of bullshit that has been piling up over the past three years.

He took a deep, measured breath before focusing back on his boyfriend. His sweet, lovable, very-much-chaotic-immortal-man-child of a boyfriend.

“...They think I’m what now?”

On the other side of this conversation sat Klarion, the witch boy extraordinaire, who was combing his slender fingers delicately through his precious familiar’s fur as he watches his beloved having a hard time grasping at the situation. And since he thought of himself to be a rather fantastic boyfriend, he repeated what he said.

“The League of Simpletons have somehow gotten in their heads that I must have enthralled you in one way or another in order to get my hands on some ultimate power, as part of my apparently evil master plan.”

Danny took another breath, this was just getting ridiculous. But then again what else was new, these people really knew how to make a mountains out of a molehills. Even Wes didn’t have this severe of an apophenia, he at least ended up being right more often than not.

“So they think you’ve put me under a love spell or something?”

Klarion merely shrugged in mock-helplessness. “Apparently you wouldn’t be dating me otherwise.” In all honesty he probably shouldn’t be enjoying this as much as he currently is, but he couldn’t help himself.

His ever present smirk widened when his beloved Starlight’s face twitched in irritation. “For Ancient’s sake… seriously?” A simple nod was enough for Danny to want to throw the next Justice Idiot who was stupid enough to come close to Amity Park’s boarders through the nearest window!

Calm down Danny, calm down. Just remember Jazz’s breathing exercise. One… two… three…

…

Wait a minute… would that mean- no way in hell way they’ve been…

“Wait a minute- Is that the fucking reason why they’ve constantly been ruining our dates these past few months!?”

Another nod.

Yeah, fuck being calm and shit, ya boy is absolutely livid! All this time they were doing it on fucking purpose!! He so is going to burn all of their ugly ass capes and dye all their ugly ass costumes pink! Better yet, he’ll paint their entire HQ with the most obnoxious and clashing colours possible.

Klarion let the halfa rage about for a good moment before interjecting. It wouldn’t do to have the lounge destroyed, especially when that energy could be used on something else he has in mind.

“We could have fun with this you know, at their expense.”

Danny stopped in his track and turned his inquiry gaze towards Klarion. He knows that smile and it could only mean trouble, trouble which he was more than willing to partake in. A smirk of his own began to grace his lips. “What do you have in mind exactly?”

Once again Klarion was reminded why he’s dating this gorgeous creature in the first place. Trust him to be able to match his chaotic nature despite his hero persona.

“Oh you are going to love it, my dear.”

#danny phantom #danny fenton #klarion #klarion bleak #klarion the witch boy #dp x dc fic #dp x dc #dc x dp #dc x dp crossover #chaotic spirits #dp x dc fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #justice league #klarion x danny #love spell fanfic #danny is so done with justice league #chaotic ghost

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xhdream · 1 month

Text

loser(s): part two

↳ part one

pairing: youtuber theo x fem!reader

genre: smut wc: 4.4k

summary: the charming guy running the youtube channel you enjoy watching mostly because of him and not the games he’s playing, moves in the apartment across from yours, and turns out to be the biggest asshole you’ve encountered in years

contains: neighbours au, hard dom!reader, brat tamer!reader, enemies to lovers? trope, unprotected sex, explicit language, dirty talk, masturb. (m), overstimulation (m), oral (m/f), light humiliation kink, a few slaps here and there, name calling

a/n: please, keep in mind english is not my first language, i apologise in advance for any mistakes i’ve might missed

!! this is pure fiction for entertainment purposes

Taeyang lost count of how many times he had to sit down to play the same game from the beginning in the last three hours.

He adjusts the camera on its usual angle, hits record, only to toss his headset across the desk ten minutes later, and just stare stupidly at the computer screen.

It’s been a week since you slept together and he hasn’t been able to get you out of his head. Not only does the fact you’re constantly on his mind torturing him, but also the images that come along with the thoughts of you.

Your hand wrapped around his neck. Your breath sticking to his mouth as you call him names, bad names, mean words that would infuriate him in every other situation, but not this one.

And the more days fly by, the more those images seem not enough for him anymore. He begins to expand on them with moments where you slap his face while you ride him. Or his cock - it probably hurts, but that’s the new thing that he’s been curious about what it would feel like from you.

He wants you to punish him for all the sleepless nights you had because of his games; for all those arguments you’ve had in the middle of the hallway; for all the times he slammed his door in your face.

Taeyang opens the little drawer of his desk and pulls out the panties you let him keep from that day. It won’t feel as exciting as the first time he used them, because they’re straight out from the laundry and they don’t hold your scent anymore, but it’s better than just his bare hand.

He feels stupid; really stupid. But the embarrassment fades down the moment he covers his semi hard on with the delicate lace you wore the afternoon he fucked you.

He’s never watched any videos where the man is submissive, or gets humiliated and commanded. He’s never had any interest in experiencing anything like that, until now. Until you.

His moans slip from his lips more and more desperate in the silence of his room. His eyes are squeezed shut while his mind visualises your naked body once again; your hands and mouth are everywhere on him all at once as you use him for your own personal pleasure.

“Fuck… p-please, please, please—“ Taeyang whispers in a rush over and over again, as if you are here forcing him to ask for permission to cum.

He breaks down in his chair as the rush from this new unfamiliar fantasy brings him to his peak. The pair of panties, now messy from his orgasm, are wrapped around his cock and he holds them there for a moment till he calms down.

He has to try to film next week’s video again, but all he can think about is what the fuck did you do to him.

It was just a hook up.

There’s nothing wrong in having some fun once in a while. What does it matter if it was with the youtuber Choi Taeyang who also happens to live next door? You had a nice time together, and it won’t happen again, because you can’t stand each other - even after having an amazing mind blowing sex. Especially after that…

Nothing has changed. In fact, everything remains the same, except that he for whatever reason decided to do some of the talking online.

“You’re talking shit about me in your new video!”

Taeyang remains silent for a few seconds, because at first he doesn’t remember doing such thing.

“Oh, I think you mean the video before the one I uploaded today… The one from today is the new one.”

“I don’t care.” You throw hands in the air. “Will you please explain where that’s coming from?”

Taeyang folds arms in front of his chest while skimming your body up and down in the most obvious way. You’re wearing a pair of comfy shorts and a graphic tee; so different than all the buttoned up shirts and fancy trousers he always sees you wearing for work. Judging by the look, it doesn’t seem like you’re planning on going out with anyone although it’s Friday night.

Not that he cares.

“I filmed that before we slept together.”

“Because that makes it better?”

Realising that this conversation isn’t going to end soon, Taeyang opens the front door fully and steps aside to let you in.

You try to avoid looking around too much, but you can’t deny that you’re curious about what the rest of his apartment looks like. It has a nice fresh scent that instantly adds to the welcoming atmosphere of his simple interior.

“I thought you’re familiar with my filming schedule.” Taeyang follows close behind you.

You are, but he doesn’t need to know that.

He moves your hair carefully to the side and you feel his lips trace your skin from your shoulder all the way to your neck. It’s such a small portion of skin, but it makes your whole body crave him.

“I don’t keep up with your channel anymore.” Your voice starts softening at the subtle contact of his tongue. It brings back the memories from last week, and your heart flutters at the thought of repeating it all.

You force your legs to take a few steps forward, and you leave him hanging. Wanting to make him work for it a little bit longer, you begin to explore the living room in the mean time.

“I wouldn’t have known about it if a friend of mine didn’t send me a clip of you ranting about the annoying neighbour that makes you want to jump from the window, because she made it her life mission to ruin your whole life.“ You glare at him for a moment before taking a seat on the middle of his couch. “It wasn’t hard for her to figure it out.”

Taeyang smirks, as his tall figure stands in front of you, blocking the view of the multiple posters at the wall.

“So you talk about me to your friend, I’m flattered.”

“Not nice things,” you cross one leg over the other, acting as if you’re oblivious to his gaze that’s focused on you, “so don’t be.”

The perky smile doesn’t leave his face when he squats down, locking eyes with yours. His hands swiftly separate your legs, and that simple act alone brings an insane amount of arousal into your body.

“You did made me want to jump from the window that day.” He comments, gliding his palms up and down your bare skin. “But I was also hoping you’d come back, and you did.”

His mouth now roams along your inner thigh through wet kisses, as he speaks, while his hand caresses the outer side of it.

“Do you know what’s the most annoying part of all of this?”

“Tell me,” you say, trying to keep your tone firm and relaxed despite the warm need that’s forming in the pit of your stomach.

You sense his right hand playing with the fabric of your shorts, sneaking under it to feel your panties. They make him impatient though, and after he grips on the waistband you quickly lift up just enough so he can pull them down.

“There isn’t a moment when I’m not turned on by you cussing at me. You’re so fuckin’ hot when you’re mad at me, doll.”

You feel the tension in the air getting thicker from his words that accompany his needy touch.

“You like being scolded, hm?” You rest your hand on top of his head, as you feel his tongue sneaking through his lips. The sudden wet contact provokes your legs to spread wider at the possibility to feel it closer to your heat.

Taeyang swipes his flat tongue along your cunt that’s hidden from your thin underwear. His palms press against your hips, as he buries his face further, humming as a response.

“Easy, Tae,” you chuckle.

The nickname surprises him, and he pulls back to find your eyes.

“I need you.” His voice softens as he speaks out the words.

You’ve never heard this tone from him before.

“I need you so bad, Y/N.”

“Do you promise not to talk shit about me ever again?”

You lift his chin even higher with your index finger while he stays on his knees for you.

“Promise.” He replies with a smirk which disappears so quickly from your thumb tugging on his lip that you almost miss it.

It’s surprising how easily he succumbs to your control. It almost feels like he’s playing with you, and you test him again with another question.

“Will you do as I say?”

Taeyang nods staring back with lust in his eyes.

“Words.”

“Yes, yes, beautiful…” He stops talking when you slide your fingers through his lips, and continues, after you gather some of his saliva. “I will.”

“I didn’t expect to see you so obedient, Tae.” You push your panties to the side and spread the moisture all over your clit, mixing it with the one that’s already been wetting your folds. “I like this version of you.”

“You got me this way, doll.” Taeyang follows the slow motions of your fingers, and his mouth waters at the sight. The memory of your sweet taste invades his senses. “Let me help you feel good.”

You guide your foot up and down his thigh, as you build your arousal in front of him.

“What can you do for me?” You ask, knowing that talking is the last thing he wants to do right now. You lead your leg to his crotch area where the contour of his erection calls for your attention. It starts twitching beneath the fabric of his sweats the second it feels the pressure of your foot.

“Anything you want, baby.. shit—“ His mouth stays open when you start stimulating him by rubbing his length. “Just tell me, please. Wanna taste you so fuckin’ bad.”

“Oh, baby, you’re leaking already,” you pout at the dark stain that appeared under your foot. Taeyang can only whine, as the place you keep rubbing in a rapid speed gets hotter from the pleasant friction. “You look like you really need to cum, pretty boy… too bad I prefer to cum first.”

Taeyang’s attention goes back and forth between your daring eyes, and your fingers gliding through your squelching entrance. He’s slowly becoming more and more submissive, and you can’t stop gushing over how hot he looks in this kind of desperate state.

“Wanna make you cum first, gorgeous…” Taeyang mutters, but his hips jerk up, needy to feel more of your touch. “Can I?”

“You can,” you reply, seeing his gaze lit up. “Go on, put that dirty mouth to good use for once.”

After moving your hand away, Taeyang leans in and attaches his tongue to your heat with the same force he did the first time. It makes you gasp, and hold the back of his head as the imensive pleasure flows through your body.

The difference is in the sounds that manage to escape from his mouth as his tongue devours your slickness - they’re not intense, grumpy groans, but vulnerable blissful ones, and you try to stay calm so you can hear more of them, but you can’t hold the emotions in for long.

“Oh, f-fuck, Tae—“ Your fingers tangle around the roots of his hair and tug from the way he digs even deeper into your cunt the moment you start to shake. Your arousal trickles down from your folds. “Oh, fuck, just like that…”

Provoked by your pretty moans, Taeyang pulls you down a bit, focusing the tip of his tongue on your clenching hole. He slurps eagerly from your leaking pleasure before licking a stripe all the way to your clit.

You don’t need to tell him to go faster. He can tell you’re close by your loud pants, and the way your face twitches, and your spine bends. Your toes curl in the air the moment he dives back in to suck on your sensitive bundle of nerves meanwhile his two long fingers slide inside you, rubbing your walls.

“S’ close—“ You choke on your whines, as your hand keeps him as close to your clit as possible.

The quick way his fingers work in and out of you in sync with his lapping tongue bring your orgasm just a second later, and Taeyang tries his best to keep your body steady on the couch with one hand as you squirm from the sensations.

His own hitched sounds get lost from your overwhelmed voice that echoes throughout the room in a high pitched tone. You stopped caring about who might hear you through the thin walls a long time ago.

You realise amused that Taeyang still gathers from your juices by open mouthed kisses even after you come back to your senses.

“That’s enough, you had your fun.” You take his jaw and squish his flushed cheeks, observing his swollen lips and sharp chin that’s messy from your arousal. As much as all that turns you on nothing can compare to the dazed look in his eyes - like he’s ready to take anything you give him.

“There isn’t a moment when I’m not turned on by you cussing at me.” His words from earlier echo into your mind. “You’re so fuckin’ hot when you’re mad at me…”

“You’re so pathetically horny, I don’t even have to ask if you’ve been using my underwear to get off.” You slightly raise your brow, then grunt at the shameless smile that creeps up on his lips. It earns a light slap on the cheek. “Such a loser.”

At this point Taeyang is one hundred percent sure he’s leaking through his boxers. He’s so turned on that he’s grateful for every small friction he gets from the cotton fabric that’s repressing his cock.

“Filled them with my cum three times.” He adds through his puffy lips that still glisten with your essence.

You try to cover up your half-smile caused by his cheeky attitude through a huff. You slap him again, but harder, and he presses his tongue against the inner side of his cheek.

“You liked it, didn’t you, perv?”

“I fuckin’ loved it.” He responds, successfully maintaining eye contact. You can feel the heat coming from his stare and it makes you feel dizzy, like you just took five shots at once.

The smacking sound fills the room again, and Taeyang’s head tilts slightly to one side. His bottom lip is tucked between his teeth; his skin runs hot.

“Three slaps for the three times you used my panties like a desperate whore.”

You lean back comfortably on the back of the couch, trying to ignore the way your heart races from what just happened, but also at the image of him masturbating with your lingerie.

You tell him to strip, and he quickly gets rid of his clothes, leaving them crumpled up on the floor. After his slim figure hovers over you again, his big cock enters your vision. You lean forward and run your fingertip along its length, feeling its warm skin and every vein.

The instant twitching when you reach his tip that’s oozing deliciously with transparent essence, makes you bite your lip playfully. You give it a light feathery touch, and suddenly the only thing on your mind is to make Taeyang break down from pleasure. To milk him dry.

“Sit down.” You command, switching places with him. “No touching from now on, got it?”

“Got it.” Taeyang responds, and you notice his one hand going towards his balls, as you kneel between his legs.

You grab his wrists roughly, forcing his eyes to shoot back at you.

“You’re not allowed to touch me or yourself.”

You release his arms, hearing a sigh of disappointment. For a moment he doesn’t know where to put his hands and the awkward way he finally drops them on top of his thighs makes you laugh.

“Not used to being a submissive boy, huh?” You tap his leaky tip at the centre, and Taeyang’s tummy clenches from the sensitivity.

The ringing sound of you mocking him makes his heart flutter which doesn’t help the burning in his core cool down.

He stays silent, but judging from his dark gaze that’s solely focused on your hand hovering over his desperate erection, makes you feel like you’re both thinking about the same thing, so you do it - you give his cock a light smack.

“Fuckk—“ He sucks in a sharp breath. He bites on his lower lip with force, throwing his head back while the shocking thrill fades down. “No… I’m not.” He admits noticing you getting closer to his shaft.

He wants to snap at you to take it, but another part of him wants to indulge in this new game that you introduced to him; a game where he waits and receives whatever you decide to give him.

“You’ll learn. You need some taming, Choi Taeyang.” You give him one last glance, then release a thick string of spit on his cock before taking it in your hand.

You forgot how heavy he feels and your thighs already start rubbing against one another. You stroke it up and down slowly, appreciating the way it looks under the control of your fist.

“Such a big nice cock for someone who doesn’t know how to behave properly, tsk…” The speed of your hand quickens, and Taeyang’s chest starts to rise rapidly, his fingers form two strong fists. “What a waste,” you spit out bluntly, smearing the precum even faster.

You have to admit, you enjoy this dominant role more than you expected.

“Ahh, s-shit…” Taeyang’s built up desperation becomes even more apparent now as his tone gets mellow from the stimulation. The rush inside his tummy grows bigger with every next twist, and every new remark you decide to throw at him.

In the middle of his moans he turns quiet; too baffled from the sudden wrapping of your lips around him to say or do anything. His jaw drops as he finally gets to experience what your tongue feels like glued to his dick.

“Y/N—“ he sighs, running fingers through his hair. His tongue swipes his lips at the arousing sight of your head bobbing up and down his length; your small fist helping out by twirling around what you can’t fit inside your mouth.

Not that you can’t fit the rest of him. You can, with a little bit of effort and inevitable choking. You just don’t want to yet. He’s fully aware of that.

Taeyang’s instant reflex is to hold your head, but he stops himself on time, and his palms return to rest on both sides of his body, meanwhile, you keep humming around his throbbing erection. The amount of saliva dripping from your lips coated all of him nicely, making your hand drag along even more smoothly as you aim for his climax.

The warm void of your mouth feels so unbelievably good he starts to feel woozy, losing his entire trail of thoughts.

You gasp for air once you finally peel off. A string of drool connects you to his angry red tip before you break it off by furiously pumping his cock.

“Come on,” you encourage him, as you don’t stop jerking him off close to your charming face, “cum like the desperate boy you are, Tae…”

And like that, hypnotised by your voice and the way you use that nickname, Taeyang lets it all out. The thick ropes of cum shoot all over his stomach while his heavy eyes stay shut, and his balls clench overwhelmingly.

You bite on your lip, patiently baring your own heat between your legs as you watch him cum all over himself. Your eyes trace all the way up to the veins on his neck, and his parted lips that drop heavy pants.

Taeyang tugs on his own hair finally turning his attention back to you. He seems high, and his heavy gaze follows lazily the way you stick out your tongue to taste him, after his poor cock hits his tummy, all flushed and smeared with sticky liquid.

“Mmm, you taste nice.” You mewl, passing your flat tongue over his stomach to collect the thick essence, taking it down your throat. “I could’ve let you cum in my mouth, but I don’t think you deserve that yet.” You leave a few wet kisses around his bellybutton before sucking lightly. Taeyang humms, and glances down only to see that you’ve licked all of his seed to the last drop.

“Hope I can earn that privilege.” Taeyang’s deep voice makes your heart swell with how raspy it suddenly sounds.

You bring your hands up his chest, teasing his left nipple with your manicured fingers.

“Give me one more and maybe you will earn it sooner than you think.”

When he sees his softening cock going in your hand again, a shocking thrill shoots through his core, and it makes him wince in his seat. His muscles tense all over again at what’s possibly coming.

“Shhh, it’s not that bad,” you burst laughing at his widening eyes. He noticed his own words coming out of your lips. “I know you still have more to give me…”

Every time you smile amused at his dick he gets butterflies in his tummy like a teenager falling in love; for a moment he didn’t even grasp what you’re asking of him.

“Fuck, wait—“

But it’s too late. You’re already getting back to twirling your fist, eager to feel it hardening in your palm.

Taeyang leans his arms over the back of the couch, giving you a nice view of his throat that keeps gulping after he tilts his head back.

You stay kneeling between his feet, gliding your fist in a merciless pace. You want to make him cum again, and you want to do it as soon as possible. The wet noise mixes with his hitched breathing, he’s not even making sounds anymore; the new rush that’s building up from his sensitivity doesn’t allow him to do anything else except try to control his heavy breaths.

“Oh my god,” Taeyang lifts one arm and takes his fist to his mouth. He can feel the familiar sensation inside him bubbling up, fast and intense. “Fuck, gonna cum again-“ His voice cracks just as his thighs start to tremble around you. “Please, take it in your mouth, p-please, Y/N, shit—“

Your fingers keep up the pressure around his thickness and a moment later they’re dripping with mess again.

“Oops, I forgot.” Your bottom lip puckers out in a fake pout, as you still hold his member trapped in your fist. It’s so pathetically red and swollen. You blow on it once, and Taeyang squirms before finally facing you. “You came too quickly, pretty boy. You left me no time to put it in my mouth.”

His raspy low voice mumbles something in the lines of you’re doing it too good, and you tell him that he’s just too weak.

You don’t give him much time to regain control over his breathing, and your lips stretch out to take him deep into your mouth.

The fact he’s lost in the warmth of your small mouth again has Taeyang’s mind turning blank. He’s sensitive in general, and when you begin to move all the way down to his abdomen after he just came for the second time, completely makes him crumble.

For the first time you hear him whimper; yearn.

It’s obvious he’s trying his best to maintain his calmness, but at this point it’s impossible. Everything becomes too much for him - your tongue twirling around his cock head, the sucking and lewd slurping as you keep up the insane rapid speed that has the living room spinning in front of him. The bumping against your throat. The gagging. The vibrations from your choking, because he’s too big for your mouth, but you keep pushing yourself on him anyway.

You breathe through your nose a few more seconds, as you keep his tortured tip inside your throat. A tear escapes the corner of your eye. When you empty your mouth, inhaling deeply, you notice that Taeyang’s cheeks have falling tears too.

Your tongue glides on the side of his hard slick length as you prepare to stuff your mouth again, but you want to enjoy the captivating sight of his face coloured by pinkish tones, and half lidded eyes gleaming with tears, a little longer.

Despite feeling on cloud nine, Taeyang gives you a lazy smile that makes your heart skip a beat.

“What is it?” He looks down at your figure with anticipation.

You shrug shoulders, then tilt your head slightly.

“I’m just surprised to see you like this.”

You don’t realise how his features hypnotise you; how they get you to forget about the role you’re playing, until you feel his hand around your neck. The movement, not rough at all, lifts your chin while he leans down parting your lips with his own.

The open mouthed kiss steals your breath; it fulfills all the cravings you had since you got here, but it grows new ones too.

You stand up and Taeyang swiftly settles you on his lap. The feeling of him filling you up in that moment is a delightful relief you’ve never felt before. You uphold yourself with hands on the back of the sofa while his mouth finds support in the crook of your neck.

“Ah, Tae…” You mewl at the way he pleases you in all the ways you possibly need. “Fuck, I love it…”

Taeyang holds his breath for a second, as you start to quicken the bounces. His hands scrunch up your shirt around your waist while the way your slippery cunt swallows him so perfectly has him thinking of cumming as soon as possible. But he can endure it; despite the burning overstimulation that makes his heart race, and his whimpers stuck at the back of his throat.

He has to.

“Cum again, doll, I’ll wait…” He bites the spot under your ear while his husky voice, coming out so uneven and shaky, sends you shivers. “I promise.”

! please do not repost, copy or translate my works

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soapybutt17 · 6 months

Text

Coldest Night

Summary: What if your worse nightmare has come to life?

Character: John Price x F!Wife!Reader. Simon "Ghost" Riley. Kyle "Gaz" Garrick. John "Soap" MacTavish.

Word Count: 1,702

Chapter Warnings: Angst. Character Death(s). Life threatening injuries. Mentions of blood loss. Mentions of violence. Major Spoiler for MW3.

A/N: To the anon that sent me the request, just know that i know you had good intentions, but i am not over mw3 and what they had done to my boy Soap and now i'm just down right sad again. didn't go into too much detail for soap's part cuz the wound is still fresh and my boy did not deserve what happened to him. :'(

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John “Soap” MacTavish

The day that you had learned Soap was KIA, you had fallen to your knees in the middle of the base and had sobbed your heart out. Johnny had always had a special place in your heart. Out of the three, you had worried about Soap the most knowing how his tendency to act brashly had ended with him more injured than he needed to be.

You mourned his death worse than anyone else in the base. You were the one that had to make the call to his family, letting them know about Soap’s passing. How it had been so hard for you to hold the tears as you listened to his parents crying through the other line. You still held a level of professionalism as you explained to his family the next step that was needed to be taken and you would be helping them all throughout wherever they may need you.

Early on, a part of you would begin to blame each and every single one of the boys. They had made a promise to you that they would keep an eyes on each other. But they broke it, you had unfortunately displaced most of your anger towards your husband, who’s already filled with guilt knowing Soap had died under his command, Soap had died saving him from Makarov.

But slowly but surely you began to heal, learning that you should not have blamed anyone of the boys for what has happened—especially your husband. The man was already plagued with his own guilt, Survivor’s guilt as the therapist you had forced all three of them to take had explained. You had your own guilt, knowing if only you had been there for the mission, you could have made difference. But at the end of the day, there was no use thinking of the what ifs. It was about learning to move on.

It was in Soap’s death that you and your husband have decided to retire. The fear of having to lose either Gaz or Ghost haunted you both. It was no a decision either of you would be willing to make any longer. You couldn’t in your conscious allow another meaningless death because of a war be on either of your hands.

Even as the years has passed since Soap’s death, you had never forgotten the man and all the memories that you had shared with him in your time as part of the Taskforce. You were still mourning just as much as your husband, but it was slowly but surely getting better. It had also become your mission of constantly checking up on the two boys, proud that they’ve gotten themselves promoted as Captain and Lieutenant respectfully. They had both deserved it, more than either of them would believe, Soap would have been their number one support should he still been alive to witness it all.

Simon “Ghost” Riley

“Don’t you fucking die on me, Riley!”

Even as hard as you try to keep the wound covered, Simon was losing so much blood that you were slowly but surely doubting if he would be able to make it. It was stupid of him to take the bullet to save you. Completely and utterly stupid of him to do this to you now when he finally has a life to live.

“You deserve to live, you’ve got the Captain and the little princess waiting for you back home.” Simon gasp, even as hard as he tries to be strong, pain was very well written on his masked face.

Your hands dug further onto his stomach where the bullet wound resides. All of your medical training has faded from your mind as panic continued to settle. Tearing your sleeves off, you placed it onto his stomach, hoping it would add to the gauze stopping the wound from bleeding further out.

“You fucking deserve to live too.” You snapped, radioing back up again. A single tear was shed as you were given an ETA of an hour.

Simon might not make it in an hour.

“I want you to promise me something, Rookie.” He coughed, his shaking hand slowly pulled off his mask revealing his pale face, and blood loss was slowly but surely manifesting. “Promise me that you’ll bury me in my home town, not as Ghost, but as Simon Riley.”

You sobbed, knowing what his request had entailed. His past that had once haunted him all throughout his life and his career. He was ready to leave it all behind and live and die finally as the man behind the mask.

“Bury me with me Mum and brother.”

“Okay.” You nod, sobbing now as he clasped onto your hands pulling it away from the wound on his stomach.

“Thank you for being the Mum I thought I could never have again.” He whispered cupping your cheeks with his bloodied hand before his hands fell and his eyes closed.

Death had taken him from you and all you could do was sob, shaking him awake, ignoring the voice of your husband and the rest of the team that had grown concern that your sobs would notify their enemies of your whereabouts, but it truly didn’t matter. You’ve lost Simon, your boy. The man that you had loved like he was your own, and the man you had promised your husband to protect when you had agreed to go on this mission with him.

You had failed Simon, just as much as you had failed to keep your promise with John. You would never see yourself ever stepping back onto a mission again after this. You had vowed to yourself never to because of it.

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

“How is he?”

It’s been three days of no sleep for you. You had refused to leave the confinements of the cold plastic chair that was situated outside of the hospital room where Kyle was in. No one, not even your husband could coerce you into leaving your place outside of the room.

John, Soap, and Simon had begun taking turns in giving you food, coffee, or change of clothes. But nothing could truly make you leave your position until you were sure that Kyle was stable and as far away from any sorts of danger.

But you should have expected something like this to happen. A mission gone wrong would always end with someone getting compromised. You were thankful that it was just an injury—as severe as it had been for the past few days, it was better than dealing with a funeral and paper works that come along with it.

You were still shaken up after you’ve been notified that Kyle was compromised. You dropped everything and made your way here in the hospital. All thoughts of work and your obligations were placed in the backburner until you were certain he was going to be alright.

“Stable.” The Doctor’s single word had washed all the relief onto your body. It was all you needed to know.

“Damages?” You inquired.

“Broken collar bone and hairline fracture to the skull, but they will heal. What I want him to focus more on is healing the few bullet wounds to the stomach he dealt with. We were able to remove most of the bullets and fragments, but we will not be certain about any underlying damage until after he wakes up.”

You nod. In the years of knowing Kyle, you know he would be able to get back from this, but knowing the damages that he had to endure because of this mission, there was this fear that just doesn’t seem to leave you. What if there was something wrong that would change his life in a way that no one would help him with.

“When will he be able to wake up then?”

“When he is good and ready.”

You nodded, thanking the doctor for the update. Slumping back onto the chair, you sighed resting your face onto your hand. Only now did you feel the fatigue and lack of sleep finally get to you.

“How are you holding up, Darling?”

Looking up, the sight of your husband was a welcome comfort for you in this very moment. He sat beside you with his arm immediately wrapping around your shoulder. Only now did you also come to realize the shiver that run through your body at the lack of coat.

“Better than Kyle is.” You muttered.

“He’s gonna be alright.” John’s reassurance did nothing to you in the moment, but you held onto it still. Every single reassurance that was given to you, you would take.

“I hope so,” You muttered. “He was supposed to be on drill duties next week.” You hoped a little humor could ease away your worries.

“And he still will when he wakes up.” John reassured with a chuckle. “I’ll make sure of it, My Love.”

“What if he doesn’t come out of this the same way?”

“Then we will help him adjust to the civilian life should it be the choice he makes for himself.” He answered immediately. “We will not know for sure, but whatever happens, it is our duty and our responsibility to make sure all three of those Muppets are well taken care of whether they still work for us or not.”

You nodded understanding very well what he was trying to say.

“I just can’t stop worrying about him. I don’t know how he’s doing right now and what he’s feeling.”

“I worry about him too.” John admits sighing. “But we will resolve nothing if all we do is worry about him and the other two.”

You nodded. Only now did you realize that for the past few days, your husband had allowed you the time to take it all in. How one member of your team being compromised as Kyle was right now would not be the first time that it would happen and you were certain it would not be the last.

You had your duty just like John did. With Kyle now in the clear, it was only time for you to regroup and deal with the mess you’ve left behind in the base.

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