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#why is the dance 4k
midnight-moth · 7 months
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He’s so cute he makes me sick
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hexiewrites · 1 year
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you can keep your boots on baby (I'm a woman not a lady)
explicit | robin buckley / chrissy cunningham | read it on ao3
inspired by @riality-check's brilliant "save a horse, ride an ex-jock"
“Okay, Eddie,” Chrissy says, for probably the hundredth time that night, as she paces Eddie’s apartment. “So, you know the plan-”
“Chris,” he says, with a sigh, as he reaches out to grab her shoulders to stop the pacing. “I know the plan. And I’m telling you, if everything you’ve told me about this coworker of yours is correct you aren’t going to need a plan at all. You just need to show up and make a few flirty remarks and she is going to be putty in your hands.”
Chrissy nods, because as much as she hates when this happens, Eddie’s probably right. “Okay,” she says, with an exhale of breath. “You’re totally right. I’ve got this. It’s not like I don’t know how to flirt, right? I mean, hello, I’m Queen Chrissy. Right? It can’t be that much harder just because she’s a girl. Right Eddie?”
Eddie nods back, sagely, completely false bravado as Chrissy well knows. “You got it, doll!” he teases, his accent starting to slide back the more they talk, and claps her on the back a few times. “Now, how’s this?”
He steps back and turns to show off his outfit, and it’s definitely… country adjacent. For Eddie, it’s probably the best it’s going to be, with combat boots instead of cowboy and black jeans instead of light wash, and he’s torn the sleeves clean off his flannel.
“Very good,” Chrissy says with a nod. “If country-metal was a genre, you’d be at the very top.”
“That’s the worst thing you’ve ever said to me,” Eddie grumbles, as he gestures to her. “Now you.”
keep reading on ao3
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noroi1000 · 10 months
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Sex Pollen
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Paring: Husband Gojo x wife reader
Words: 4k
Warnings: NSFW (rough sex, blowjob, deepthroat, cum eating, marathon sex, dirty talk, size kink, breeding)
Summary: The curse you were fighting didn't attack, it just sprinkled pink pollen on you. It was irritating. You were hot when you got home. But you felt good. Your husband checked on you right away, wanting to take care of you. He was afraid you were hurt or sick. But you wanted him to fuck you. You had to convince him to do it.
@tohsri there's full version (⁠。⁠・⁠ω⁠・⁠。⁠)⁠ノ⁠♡
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You sneezed as the curse she approached sprayed you with pollen that entered your nose.
You felt more like pollen hitting you than something dangerous.
Especially since it didn't hurt you at all.
The pink pollen that was around your face blurred and disappeared, and then you saw that the curse was standing a few meters away.
It looked a bit like a bee.
But you don't know why, it looked really friendly.
No claws or fangs.
It stood on those skinny legs like an ant. Four feet on the floor and the rest up.
It only had six legs.
But it was big. Maybe a little more than you.
Well, you know it. Your husband is almost two meters tall... So you're used to something bigger than you.
Especially when it comes to him.
Wiping your face, you looked at the curse that just stood there.
The pollen that flew into your face came out of a very lascivious-looking rose a bit under the head of the curse.
Why is everything starting to make you think of sex?
But you can't help that the rose on the curse's body looks like a clitoris...
Maybe it's a coincidence...
Or maybe your mind just got lewd...
You ran closer to attack the curse, but your attack missed as you were again hit with pink pollen in the face.
You spat as it entered your mouth.
You were getting warmer from the effort.
This curse didn't attack at all...
This is supposed to be a semi-grade 1 curse? It doesn't even attack!
It's not aggressive.
It just sprays you with that damn pollen that doesn't even smell or anything. Plus, this pollen is not poisonous! It doesn't do anything to you.
This curse just annoys you, blowing this pollen in your face every time you get close.
Either this curse is just meant to annoy people, or it really doesn't do anything.
You've been exposed so many times. And it's still there, and you get the impression that it's looking at you with shining, innocent eyes.
Perhaps this curse really is innocent. If you're still alive, yes.
A normal curse would kill you right away.
You saw a bee with a flower coming towards you, flapping its wings in a strange way.
You got into a fighting stance.
And the bee slowed down, and began to walk more slowly towards you.
When it was a meter away from you, the curse didn't move at all.
And all of a sudden that damn pollen got in your face again!
You waved your hand in front of your face to dispel it.
You looked at the bee, which seemed to be giggling softly.
You waved your hand with cursed energy at the curse, but it evaded.
Then pink pollen sprayed onto your face again. Fourth time same!
It was looking at you like a dog.
Then it came so close that you jumped back, falling on your ass to keep your distance.
But the curse jumped on you.
And lest you attack, she released the same pollen again.
Fifth time in your poor face.
you were coughing.
"What is this?!" You were about to hit the curse, but then the bee released an incredible amount of pollen at you, which made you a little confused.
You kicked it, and you made it slide away from you.
This curse is really getting on your nerves...
You'd rather it try to kill you than get pollen in your face every time!
As you got to your feet, you saw that curse was dancing!
You ran quickly to land a sure blow.
The bee turned and the regimental cloud made you miss again.
Then again and again.
You were already tired.
You didn't hide your face from the pollen just to hit it in the end and go home.
You've had enough of it.
As the curse released a pollen on you, he swung, but it dodged again.
"Stop moving..." You growled with sweat running down your face.
It came to you. You looked at it and saw a huge pink cloud coming out of the rose.
You swung, and the curse did not escape.
"Have fun."
Wait, that curse says?!
Now you hit. Instantly exorcising the curse with one blast of cursed energy.
There was still that damn pollen floating around...
You've already lost count of how many times you've been hit in the face with that annoying thing.
You felt fine and nothing happened to you.
Except for the tiredness you felt. You were hot.
As if you had a fever. But that's only because of how long you've been trying to hit that curse.
The pollen fell right after you left.
And you walked to the assistant's car with heavy breathing.
"Gojo-san, do you need a medic?" Ijichi asked you.
"Call me by my name. I don't want you to confuse me with Satoru." You said as you got in the car and sat lazily in the back seat.
"(y/n)-san, Everything's all right?"
You looked into his eyes as he looked at you.
"I'm just hot... I'm not hurt. I just want to rest..." You mumbled as you rested your head against the headrest.
"I'll take you home right now. But are you sure you don't need a examine?"
"That curse didn't even attack me! It was just such annoying pollen around that made it a bit difficult to breathe. That's all."
"Okay, however, call me if anything happens. I'll come pick you up to take you to Ieiri-san."
"Thanks... If that's the case, I'll do it..."
___
"How is my wifey~?" You heard your husband's melodious voice as he entered the house.
You knew he'd be back at this hour today.
But you felt good hearing his voice.
Like you're relieved.
You were so hot.
But knowing that he had come made you feel a little better.
Still hot, but better.
You heard his footsteps as he climbed the stairs to come to the room.
You had your head in the pillows.
Your hips were grinding side to side and shaking.
Did you feel like you were getting wet?
Sure, you wanted sex today, but not enough to hear it from downstairs and get wet just from the sound.
Or are you delusional?
Maybe you really have a fever and all you think about is sex?
That voice of his when he says all that lewd stuff...
About his long fingers crawling over your skin, arching inside of you.
About his eyes.
About his lips that kiss you. your body.
Lips that tease you between your legs.
The tongue that licks your nipples.
Tongue that enters your hole so he can taste you.
Your whole husband...
You've been thinking about your husband's entire body...
About everything he is...
"I heard you had a strange mission. Ijichi asked me to check on you right away." he said as he entered the room.
You wanted to tell him: oh yes, Satoru, come to me. Touch me... Grab my clothes and tear it apart. I'm so hot. Touch me. fuck me. Breed me.
You didn't know why those words popped into your mind.
Especially the last one...
But you'd be lying if you said you didn't want it.
Because your thighs tremble slightly when you feel this feeling.
Waiting for him to come up to you and lay his hand on you.
Your thighs tremble when you hear his voice.
You want him to fuck you so much here and now.
Or is it your imagination?
Maybe he hasn't really come home yet?
Suddenly, the bed next to you sagged slightly under another weight.
He may have been wondering why it's so dark in here, since you've covered the windows and also no lights are on. But there was a chance you wanted to sleep.
"How are you darling?" he asked placing his hand on your head.
He hoped you were awake.
You turned your head to look at him.
Your breath trembles at the sight of him next to you in that t-shirt of his that sometimes reveals his arm.
Your legs also trembled involuntarily.
You wanted him to sit between your legs now, not next to you...
"Satoru.... Are you really here?" you asked, extending your hand.
You grabbed the fabric of his pants on his thigh.
He was real...
"I'm here. Why shouldn't I be real? Are you tired?" He asked, laughing at what you said at the beginning.
He rubbed your lower back with his fingers.
It sent very pleasant shivers down your body.
You were so sensitive, weren't you?
Your body reacted even to his presence next to you.
Not to mention his touch.
"Honey, your face is red. Are you okay?" He asked, checking your temperature by placing his hand on your forehead.
"I'm fine..." you said and sat down.
Your hand gripped his thigh tighter.
But he didn't seem to care. You may have just accidentally touched it.
Sometimes he would take accidental touches as your desire to seduce him, and he would immediately drag you to bed.
And now that you were doing it on purpose, he didn't know it...
"Do you need something?"
"Mmm..."
You grunted looking at him.
Suddenly you grabbed his arm and pulled him down, causing him to lie on his back on the bed. But his feet were still on the floor.
You jumped on top of him, sitting on his stomach.
"I need relief..." you moaned as you kissed his collarbone.
"(y/n)–"
"Toru, please... Give me relief. My body is so hot... I want something inside... I want touch... Please..."
He looks at you from behind the blindfold.
You kissed his cheek before your teeth caught his blindfold, struggling to get it off him as your hands were busy stroking his broad chest.
You circled your hips against his belly.
"Please Toru... A bit of relief..." you moaned into his ear.
Suddenly his hands grabbed your shoulders.
"(y/n), You know I'm always want to, but you're sick. I can't do that when you're not feeling well..."
"I feel great! It would be even better if you fuck me now... Toru... Fuck me raw... Fuck cum in me... Just do it... Now... Please..."
"But-."
You felt very good.
But it would be even better if you had his cock now.
"Please~ Toru~ I'm so horny for your fat cock... I want to hear your balls hit my ass... Oh god... I want you to destroy my pussy with that big dick..." You moaned as you planted kisses on his chest.
You pushed the fabric aside and crawled under his shirt, kissing his abs. To put your head on his chest later.
You lowered your hips to rub against his crotch.
Your already swollen and thirsty pussy pressed against his crotch.
"Destroy me... Mark me... Toru ~fill me~. Put as much sperm inside me as you have... Fuck all the time... Now Toru... Give me that hard cock... You like our height difference. You like it when my little pussy takes your monster cock. You love to see me smaller than you. How big your hands are compared to mine. I know my lovely husband has a size kink. You can tie me up, fuck me in the kitchen or in the bathroom. Just fuck me."
When he opened his mouth to say something, you placed your fingers on his tongue, collecting saliva.
You came out from under his shirt.
You shoved your fingers in his saliva under your pants and panties, feeling your hot wetness. You ruined your panties so much.
You rubbed your clit with your fingers, feeling his saliva sticking to your skin.
You put your head on his chest. Your hips twitched.
"Please, Toru, Agree. I'll be a good wife~ I'll take your dick so good. Do what you want with my body. Pour cum on me, fuck me in the ass, gag me, strangle me, bend me. Fuck too deep. destroy me. Arrange me however you want..." You moaned.
You placed your hand, wet from your juices, on his chest for support.
Your fingers were dripping with your wetness.
"Are you sure you're okay?" He asked, pretending he wasn't into it.
He wanted to stop.
Because either way, there's something wrong with you.
His little darling wife would never say anything so lascivious.
He wanted to fuck you, as he always did when he came home.
But circumstances were different now, and he had to take care of you first.
Although there was a chance you might have encountered a sex curse...
But that was unlikely!
But it was so...
He needed to know what was wrong with you first.
So he couldn't succumb to your lecherous words. Even though that's all you said, he wanted to do so much to you.
He couldn't succumb to your movements as you rubbed your groin against his crotch.
He saw your pants get wet.
Your eyes were shining and full of lust.
Almost tearful.
Your face even more red and charming.
Body trembling.
So eager for cock...
"Toru..." you begged.
But this time he couldn't give in, and he couldn't start undressing you right away.
"How am I supposed to convince you?" you thought looking at his face.
Kisses, touching him and you always worked.
Plus that dirty talk.
It must have affected him somehow.
You felt something hard against your clit.
You looked down to see how his slightly hardened cock stood out under his pants.
You smiled.
If he wants to cum, he'll fuck you.
"We can't. (y/n). There's something wrong with you. I need to fix this first. How are you feeling?"
"I feel good... So very good... Your dick is better... How do I convince you? Should I fuck with a toy in front of you? Shall I put your soft cock in me? It's all because of this pollen... Aah..."
"Pollen? What pollen? Is something hurting you?"
You quickly got off of him and knelt between his knees on the floor.
"My pussy hurts when you're not inside me." You put your cheek against his cock under the cloth. "How can I convince you that I'm fine? I feel fine. I'm not sick."
"You had a fever—"
"I'm horny..."
You grabbed the waistband of his pants and undid the buckle.
When you saw him move, you moved faster, tossing the buckle aside with a clatter.
Before he could grab your head, you pushed his pants and panties down, grabbing his semi-hard length with your hand and shoved it quickly into your mouth, going straight to the middle. To hear a satisfied purr from him.
"(y-y/n)..." he moaned.
You slid down on his cock, shoving it all the way down your throat. Which you never really did because he was too big. But now, because you're so horny and because he's not completely hard yet, you held him, warming him in your throat.
You started stroking his balls with your hand.
So ready to pour all over you the cum that accumulates there. Heavy and full.
You held him until he was completely hardened.
Your throat hurt from stretching. You had a gag reflex at times, but you managed to hold it back.
Your nose pressed hard against his pubic bone as you swallowed around him.
Saliva dripped from your chin as he sat in front of you on the bed, looking at the lewd image of your face in tears and saliva, as his whole dick disappeared into your little mouth.
He wanted to stop you, but it was so good...
Suddenly, he ran his fingers along your neck, feeling clearly where the end of his cock was.
He was proud of you.
But he was also terrified that his body didn't want to hold you back.
Your little hands continued to massage his balls so nicely, leaving not a single inch of skin untouched.
You go all over his cock, taking it down your throat, massaging his balls, and you're so wet that if it weren't for your pants, you'd be wetting the floor.
Isn't this the moment of his dreams?
His lovely wife is kneeling in front of him with a whole huge cock in her mouth. And comparing your bodies to each other, anyone would say that you are smaller than him.
You have a tight pussy and he has a big dick.
Or maybe you have such a small pussy because the size of his cock is too big? Maybe that's why you're so tight?
One thing is for sure, he will never let anyone check it out.
Because tonight and tonight you really want him to carve your walls into his shape.
His hands reached to his knees as he watched you pull it slowly out of your mouth.
The heat in your throat started to leave him.
As you get out the tip, you coughed a few times.
And he stood at attention in front of your face, ready for further caresses.
You put your mouth on his balls, sucking on one side, then opened your mouth hard to welcome most of the warm skin between your lips.
You put the length of it on your face, looking at him innocently. You even ignored the feeling of your saliva dripping down his shaft onto your face.
Your forehead with a drop of precum flowing out of it.
But you still continued. As you pulled his now saliva-soaked balls out of your mouth, you ran your tongue all the way to the tip, inserting it into your mouth, and you dug in further, letting it sink back into your throat.
His chest was rising and falling heavily.
Then you pulled him out again, and followed the same path with your tongue to his balls.
Then up and down again.
Until you added your hands on its base to give it more sensations.
Maybe that will convince him?
You twirled your hands on him, same with your tongue.
You sucked it and swallowed it. It was so good.
For him and for you.
He didn't protest. Perhaps because you have adopted a course of action that is very difficult for him to reject.
You were insistent in pleasing him.
He was throbbing and twitching impatiently.
So you put it down your throat one last time, gagging on his thickness as the tip slid down the walls of your throat.
But you swallowed him, again playing with his balls to make him purr with pleasure.
Until it finally exploded in your throat.
You thought you would suffocate or vomit from the very sudden filling of your throat with a thick and hot liquid.
However, you calmed down and waited patiently.
He continued to squirt as you pulled him out, and you let him cover your cheeks white.
Maybe that's why he came so much because it was the best deepthroat blowjob he'd ever had.
He lay down on the bed on his back and his cock followed suit, laying on his exposed stomach.
You sat on his chest, and showed him the inside of your mouth painted white.
"Get you a trash can or a towel to spit out?" he asked calmly.
Not always someone wanted to swallow cum.
You put your finger to his lips and suddenly swallowed.
Feeling the thick heat flowing in your esophagus more to the inside of you.
You ran your fingers over your cheeks, then licked the white liquid from your fingers.
You wanted cum so much.
You don't know why, but you wanted to lick his cum off your fingers and you wanted more.
And so it was.
You wanted more of his sperm.
In you and on you.
"T-Toru..." You groaned, grinding your hips against his chest.
His cock was already at attention as he watched you lick his cum with relish.
"Fuck it..." suddenly he grabbed your body and threw you on the bed.
Ripping off his pants and shirt and then the same with you.
He bent you in half and entered your pussy, starting a long journey of destroying you from the inside out. A journey that aims to satisfy you and shape your walls into his shape.
All evening.... Half the night....
And also one whole next day and also half the night...
You wanted so much from him...
Surely that pollen you were talking about was sex pollen...
You would never take so much sex from Him.
Even he was so tired.
He was so sore.
But because it was so great, he didn't want to stop.
The bed was wet with saliva, sweat, tears, your juices and his cum.
But he was lying there. Glad the curtains are closed.
That day and that night will be unforgettable.
Alternating blowjob and fucking your pussy. Once or twice it happened that he fucked your ass...
But then he went back to your pussy anyway.
You suck him dry that night.
Your body was dripping with his cum.
You had the most white fluids in you.
There's no way you're not pregnant.
But it's your fault. You're the one who begged him to fuck you raw and also breed you.
He opened his eyes to see his hard red dick lying on his belly from all the sex you guys had had.
He slept a few hours and his body still wants sex?
Or was it because your tired but still horny body was still stroking his balls and shaft with your fingertips?
"Toru... One more... one more time..." you muttered, looking at him with puppy dog eyes.
You were as tired as he was.
How much liquid you spilled in this bed can definitely be counted as liters. If it weren't for the bottles of water, you would have died of desiccation long ago.
"The last time... I think it's really the last time..." You moaned.
He studied your face.
And suddenly he waved his hand at you.
By letting you in.
They slid their legs over his hips and you fingered his length into your stretched and cum dripping hole.
He groaned being so sensitive.
But it was nice anyway. Painfully pleasant.
As soon as he was deep inside you, your strength left you completely.
"T-Toru... Can you move? I don't have the strength..." you muttered.
Fluids about your thighs ran like water down the shower wall.
With a grunt, he flipped both of you over and, laying on top of you, began thrusting into you, only to cum with you in a few minutes moaning.
As your pussy milked out of him what his body had been able to produce in those last hours when he wasn't gushing like a fountain of cum.
You weren't as tired as he was.
So when he fell asleep, you left the house thanking him.
You cleaned yourself, but you didn't force his cum out of you.
What's left, let it stay there.
Because you don't regret wanting him to breed you.
You wanted to let him rest after all this.
Your body wasn't tired because you were in control of this powder. And now that everything you wanted to do with this powder was fulfilled, you were satisfied.
So did Satoru.
You went to his students to teach them that day because Satoru couldn't come today.
When you came home smiling, he woke up.
He greeted while standing naked in the kitchen as he ate cookies.
"There's no way I'm wearing anything. Don't even make me." He said, leaning his bare ass against the kitchen cabinet.
"Why?” You asked blushing at the sight of his naked body with scratches from last day. Marks on his neck that he got from you. Scratches on his back.
Your body was worse.
Handprints, hives all over the body, bites.
You had to wear a scarf!
"My dick is dying. You don't know how vulnerable I am because of what you've been making me do for the last day. Fuck, I can't even put my pants on without feeling like my dick is about to fall off!"
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rachalixie · 7 days
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can’t get you off my mind
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all good love stories start with a drunk stranger, don’t they?
warnings: mentions of alcohol, fem!reader
genre: fluff, comfort
word count: 4k
it starts at a bar. 
or really, it starts with a man at a bar. one that you’ve seen before in passing, a familiar face in a sea of more familiar faces. someone who you’ll later learn is one third of your best friend changbin’s production team, someone who you should have met years ago probably, someone who you would find is the perfect puzzle piece that fits into your jagged edges.
but right now, he is just a man at a bar with a beer in hand and a ridiculously dopey smile on his face. 
“marry me, please,” he says, absolutely serious but it’s a bit diluted from the way his words were slurred around the edges. “or i’ll have to kidnap you.”
“excuse me?” you raise a brow at him, his image swimming a bit as you turn your head to fully take him in. you’re not drunk, but youre a couple glasses of wine deep and you’re not known for being fully articulate whilst sober anyways. 
“i swear i’m going to marry you,” he says, eyes wide as he looks at you. “you might be the most perfect person i’ve ever seen.”
you’re not overly fond of men you haven’t met hitting on you, but this one seems a bit harmless. if you ignored the part where he said he would kidnap you. at least he wasn’t grabbing onto you or trying to touch you - that would have sent your fist flying towards his face and probably a swift exit from the bar. it was a little weird that you didn’t find him weird, but in retrospect you must have known, even then. 
“okay, listen,” you put your hands on your hips, giving him an unimpressed look. “if you find me when you’re sober, ask me again and maybe i’ll reconsider.”
“okay,” he nods, hair moving along with his movement like a puppy’s ears. “i can do that. i’ll find you, i promise. i’m gonna marry you, did you know?”
“so i’ve heard,” you roll your eyes, already feeling a bit fond about him. you didn’t think you’d meet him again, but you were sure that you’d look at this night with a fond smile later. 
he sends you the brightest smile you think you’ve ever seen on a person and scampers off, and you stand rooted to that one sticky spot in the bar for longer than you want to admit.
he’s in the back of your mind when you wake up the next morning, in a better mood than most - you never liked waking up early, it always took you a good hour and some coffee to be able to stand without grimacing. this morning though, you float around your apartment as you get dressed with a small smile on your face. 
a cute stranger who kept his boundaries and called you perfect? that wasn’t something that happened often, at least not to you. 
the floatiness followed you all the way through your morning routine until you found your feet stopping outside the coffee shop that you and changbin all but owned. you had no stock in it, but you’re sure that you supply them at least half of their revenue, you probably sit on their rickety chairs more often than your actual couch at home. this place has nursed you through every college class and job interview preparations and beyond, and if it ever closed you might lose time off of your life span. 
your movements from the door to the counter to your usual seat were robotic, muscle memory taking over while your head did somersaults through the clouds. it’s only when you take the first sip of coffee, the bitterness and heat hitting your tongue in a delightful dance, that you notice it. 
another man is sitting next to changbin. a man that looks awfully familiar, and it takes you a moment to realize why. it’s the man from the bar. 
“changbin?” you keep your eyes on the other man as you direct your question at changbin, trying hard to keep your face neutral. “explain?”
“i’m chan,” the man interjects before changbin can answer, reaching his hand across the table for you to shake. it’s warm, his grip somewhere perfectly in the middle of too hard and too soft, and he lets go after an appropriate amount of seconds. despite the neutral passivity of the gesture, you feel something ignite within you, and it threatens to sputter out when you catch no spark of recognition in his eyes. was he that drunk last night that he doesn’t remember you? do his sober eyes not find you as perfect?
“he crashed at my place last night,” changbin’s voice filters through your turmoil, and you finally break away from chan’s gaze to level him with a look. “and he needed coffee, so i brought him along. chan, this is y/n, my best friend.”
the conversation that followed flowed more freely than the coffee dripping from the machines behind the counter, and you almost hate how much you like it. chan is a little goofy, the man from the previous night shining through moments of seriousness and rapt attention. 
by the time you had to leave to go to work you felt like you knew him. you learned where he lived (close to you!), that he worked with changbin (he’s a producer!), and that he loved all animals but he adored dogs (he has one named berry!). just an hour of casual conversation had led to you needing more of him in every aspect of your life, but still in the back of your head lived the thought of him not remembering you from the night before.
changbin leaves first, citing some meeting he had to run to in the middle of a yawn, and when you were left with chan the embarrassment began to set in. 
“i’m going to marry you,” he blurts out, startling you so much you almost jump out of your seat. 
“what?” you ask, a mixture of surprise and disbelief combining into a confusing vortex within your head - was he going to go through this again? you didn’t know if your heart could take it. 
“i mean, i remember you,” he says before you could awkwardly excuse yourself and commit to getting to work early for the first time in a year just to escape being in a room alone with him for much longer. “i’m sorry, i was just embarrassed. i didn’t want to make a fool out of myself in front of changbin.”
“oh,” your breath leaves you all at once and you slump into your chair, understanding hitting you like a train. “that makes sense? i think?”
“i’m going to marry you,” he repeats, a mischievous glint in his eyes, the boy from last night shining through. “one day. i’m going to do it.”
“take me on a date first,” you tease back, a genuine smile stretching across your lips when he laughs, a full bodied thing that drew in eyes from the patrons across the room. for once, you didn’t seem to care that others’ eyes were on you. he made you feel comfortable. 
“what are you doing tomorrow?” his mouth turns upwards into a beautiful smile that you can’t help but return. 
“eager, are we?” you open your phone, sliding it across the table with the new contact page open on it. “i’m free.”
“you’re the most perfect person i’ve ever laid eyes on,” he says, as serious and genuine as the way he had proposed to you last night as he taps his number into your phone. “sorry if i’m a bit desperate.”
“don’t apologize,” you take your phone back, making a mental note to text him later. “i like it, for some unearthly reason. you’re cute, chan.”
the sound of his delighted laugh follows your footsteps all the way to work. 
— 
he picks you up for your first date at noon, right on the dot. he wasn’t a minute late, a polite knock sounding through your apartment just as the hour turned, as if he had been waiting and watching the time outside the door. 
god, is everything about this man endearing? 
he’s wearing shorts and a light sweater, looking like something out of a posh magazine. his hair is curly and swept off his forehead and he’s wearing a smile with the most adorable dimples shining through. 
he leads you to his car and you have to hold back an impressed whistle. you knew changbin and his team did well for themselves, the name 3racha all over the credits of songs on the radio, but this car was nice. you were going to have a talk with changbin about why he still drove the same beat up sedan he’s had since college but that was a thought for later. right now all you wanted to think about was the man who held the door open for you to slide into the passenger seat and was now holding your hand over the middle console. 
“do i get to know where we’re going?” you ask, peering at the map open on his phone but it tells you nothing more than that your destination was 15 minutes away and that he had to make a right turn in one mile. 
“it’s a surprise,” he says, voice a little nervous but it was masked with excitement. wherever he was taking you, you would be happy to be there if he was this happy the whole time. 
four songs on the radio later, one of which you teased him for when he revealed that he wrote it, he was pulling into a parking lot illuminated by flashing colorful lights. he had brought you to the fair. 
“i’ve never been to the fair!” you bounced a little in your seat, wriggling in excitement. “i’ve always wanted to go, how did you know?”
“lucky guess?” he shrugs, avoiding your gaze as he cuts the engine and unbuckles his seatbelt. 
“changbin told you, didn’t he,” you smile at the thought of chan asking his friend about what you’d like. it was cute, a word that you were probably exhausting when thinking about him even after a day of knowing him. 
“yes, but,” he flushes, the tips of his ears burning red. “i asked him after i had decided to come here, just to make sure it was a good idea. i didn’t steal it from him.”
“hey, it’s okay,” you squeeze his hand in yours that he had yet to let go of in what you hoped was a comforting gesture. you didn’t know what brought him calmness yet, but you wanted to learn. you wanted to learn everything about him. “now, take me to the fair, bang chan. i was promised a date.”
he finally meets your eyes again and he’s grinning so happily that you feel like you had just won a prize. who needed a fair when you had your very own carnival game right here? 
it turns out, you did. by the time the sun was beginning to set, your arms were full of various plushies that chan had won for you, each one earning him a hug and a kiss to his cheek. you treasured every single one, the fluttering in your chest when he stepped up to the booths to throw and shoot various things never ceasing. 
“let’s go to the ferris wheel,” you tug at him with your free hand, thanking the skies when you see no queue there. “i bet the sunset looks beautiful from the top.”
he’s quiet when he follows you there and into the carriage, his thigh pressing against yours as he slides in next to you, but you don’t notice in your excitement. it isn’t until the wheel ticks to the top and stops that he grabs your hand again, trembling a little. 
“chan? are you okay?” you ask, concern warping your voice as you turn towards him. your movement rocks the carriage a bit and he turns pale, ducking his head into your neck to hide. 
“yeah, ‘m okay,” he murmurs, his eyelashes ticking your skin when he blinks his eyes shut. “just don’t like heights very much.”
“oh my god, why didn’t you tell me?” you cry out, jumping a bit and regretting it when you rock the carriage again. “nevermind that, what can i do? it’ll go down soon, you’ll be alright.”
“just keep holding my hand?” he squeezes your fingers lightly and your heart melts. you may have made a joke that he was just trying to trick you into holding his hand any other time, but the fear in his shaking body was real and you’d never tease him for that. 
“of course,” you press a kiss to his hair, moving your other hand slowly to wrap around your intertwined fingers. the wheel begins to turn again, swaying the carriage as it descends. you keep your grip on his hand tight the entire time, all the way until you’re on your feet again on steady ground. 
“i’m so sorry,” you begin to say, the horror of subjecting him to his fear creeping up now that the crisis has passed. 
“i’m going to marry you,” he says, cutting off your apology and lifting your hands to his mouth so he could press a kiss to the back of yours. “no one’s ever been able to keep me that calm. thank you.”
you were left speechless after that and all you could do was smile at him, the ghost of it not leaving your face for the rest of the night. 
your thirty first date with chan ends with you crying into changbin’s arms, utterly confused and the feeling of despair creeping up your veins. you had met him your cafe as you had done several times since the fair, but when you arrived he wasn’t there. he came late, dark storms in his eyes and a hard set to his jaw and you didn’t understand what had made him like that. the usual smile and twinkle in his eyes were missing, and when you and asked him about what was wrong he had snapped at you in a way you hadn’t been talked to in years. 
you had left after that, brushing him off when his eyes had widened and he reached for you while calling out your name. you know that you should have given him a chance to explain, but at the time you were too hurt to consider it. 
you made your way to changbin’s apartment without thinking, your feet taking you to safety before your head could catch up. changbin had taken one look at your face before wrapping you up in his arm, walking you to his couch so he could cuddle you properly while words spilled out of you like a leaky faucet. you felt like you were back in college, crying and blubbering over a boy who had rejected you at a party, and you hated it. 
you didn’t notice changbin sending an angry text to chan, but the sound of changbin’s door opening with a bang startled you out of your tears. chan bursts in like a whirlwind, his hair sticking up at weird angles and a look of panic on his face as he takes you in. he reaches the couch in a few strides and falls to his knees in front of you, holding a crumpled bag from the cafe in his hand and taking your cheek gently into his other. his thumb wipes at the tear tracks there and you could practically taste the guilt emanating off of him. 
“love, i am so sorry,” he starts, ignoring changbin when he scoffs at the apology. “i shouldn’t have snapped at you, i had no right to do that. i got some bad news this morning and i wasn’t feeling my best, and i should have been honest with you. i’ll never do anything like that again, please forgive me? i’ll do anything.”
it was more his voice than his words that did it - he sounded so desperate, like he was trying to hold
onto a ledge that was crumbling, threatening to hurl his body into eternal nothingness. you knew him, you knew he was sorry, and against your first instinct you trusted him when he said he wouldn’t do it again. 
“is that an almond croissant?” you eye the bag in his hand. 
“it’s two almond croissants,” he nods fervently, his hair swishing back and forth with the movement. you sit up, sliding out of changbin’s arms and onto the floor in front of chan. chan’s arms replace changbin’s easily when you lean into him, and it feels like coming home. 
“it’s not like i have a nice couch you could be sitting on,” changbin mutters as he leaves, shaking his head fondly at the two of you before making himself scarce. 
chan kisses you, cradling your head gently into his hands, and they’re so warm. he slides his lips against yours, slowly like he’s taking his time memorizing the planes of your mouth to commit to memory. even after kissing him dozens of times you still find new things to learn about each other. 
“i swear,” he says, pulling away to meet your eyes. “i’m going to marry you, someday.”
“keep getting me croissants as apologies and we’ll see,” you say, sniffling into his neck. 
your eighty seventh date was spent in your bed, your head spinning like both hands on a clock simultaneously and your body exuding more sweat than you ever have. 
chan is wringing out a cool cloth to place on your forehead and it feels so nice that you moan. 
“i’m sorry,” you mutter, and chan has lost count of the amount of times you’ve said it at this point. “we had a date and i ruined it.”
“we were going to see a movie,” he says, running a hand up and down your spine. “and we will. we don’t need a movie theater when we have a screen right here, hmm?” 
“but the popcorn,” you complain, closing your eyes in bliss when he runs a hand through your hair, scratching gently at your scalp. an apology for being so sweaty was at the tip of your tongue but you hold it back in favor of enjoying the feeling of his touch. 
“i’ll make you all the popcorn you want when you’re feeling better,” he promises, dropping a kiss to the side of your head. “for now, how does soup sound?” 
“popcorn soup?“ you ask, a wave of dizziness taking over your body; if you weren’t lying down already, you’re sure that too would be falling over. 
“yeah, baby,” and even in your delirium the fondness in his voice was prominent. he couldn’t hide it even if he tried. “i’ll make you some popcorn soup. get some rest okay?”
you’re asleep before he leaves the room, and you only wake up when he shakes your shoulder a bit and helps you into an upright position. he feeds you bites of what is definitely not popcorn soup after putting a movie on your laptop, the screen sitting at the foot of your bed. the both of you fall asleep before the movie finishes, but you don’t mind. 
he stays with you for days, making you soup and tea and toast and feeding you medicine and being an all-around angel as he nurses you back to health. by the time you’re better you think you’ve fallen back in love with him several times. 
as you had expected and warned him about, he catches your sickness the next week, and now it’s your turn to be his nurse. you try and do the same job he did, but his delirium seems worse. the silver lining is that his fever isn’t as bad, so you’re babysitting a babbling boyfriend more than a sick one. 
the night before his fever breaks is the worst, since he doesn’t even recognize you. you shake your head at his silliness when he asks who you are and calls you pretty. you smile when he takes your hand in his and asks you to come closer. 
you tear up when he tells you that he has a girlfriend that he loves very much and so even though you’re pretty he can’t do anything else because his girlfriend is the prettiest one in the whole world. you let a tear slip when he tells you that he can’t wait to propose to his girlfriend and that he’s going to marry her someday. 
you tell him that you have a boyfriend that you're going to marry someday, trusting that he wouldn’t remember it in the morning. 
your hundredth and fifth date was not unlike your fifth, or your tenth, or your ninetieth. two and a half years later, you were just as endeared by him and he was just as obsessed with you - even more so, if it were possible. 
he takes the time to tell you how gorgeous you look when he picks you up just like he does on every date, and you hide your disgustingly fond smile for him behind his back like you do every time you see him. 
he parks and runs around the car to let you out like he does every time you habit this restaurant, a little fancier than your usual best but it was a favorite of the both of yours - across the street from the bar the two of you had met at. 
you start walking before he does, letting him jog to meet you and complain about how you left him, just like you do every time. before him. you might have thought the monotony would have gotten tiring, but he had a fantastical ability to make every moment feel like the first despite their practiced nature. 
he calls your name from behind you right on schedule and you hum in acknowledgement, turning towards him absentmindedly. the second you lay eyes on him you’re completely alert, though; he isn’t jogging after you, but rather he’s kneeling on the sidewalk, a small box in his hands as he smiles up at you. 
“i’ve told you that i’m going to marry you more times than i can count,” he starts, eyes shining like the stars twinkling in the night sky above you. “but this time i’m asking you.”
“chan,” you choke out, hands coming up to cover your mouth as it quivers. tears spring to your eyes and you silently curse yourself - you always thought you’d be level headed when you got proposed to, but nothing could have prepared you for this, not even the thousands of declarations he had made to you prior. 
“i love you. you’re the only one in the entire universe that i need more than blood or breath, you’re the song that runs through my heart and the fire that leads my path when i’m lost,” his voice is thick, like he’s trying to hold back his emotions long enough to get his words out. “i never thought that i would feel so strongly for someone, i never thought that i deserved a love like this until i met you.”
he pauses as you walk closer to him, letting you approach him before he continues. 
“my love, my eternal light,” he’s tearing up now, blinking fast to keep the salty water at bay. “will you marry me?”
“chan,” you start, kneeling down next to him and taking his wrists in your hands. “i never told you this, but ever since that first day i knew. i knew that the drunk idiot that was hitting on me would be my husband.”
he chuckles, smiling delightedly as the tears finally spring from both of your eyes in unison.
“so?” he trails off, searching your face with his eyes, waiting. 
“oh!” you tighten your grip on him in an apology. “of course i’ll marry you, gosh i love you so much.”
1K notes · View notes
essenteez · 4 months
Text
𝐇𝐎𝐖𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 choi san 18+
"if i'm the bad wolf, you have to the moon. cause no one makes me howl the way your body does."
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"The release came too fast, too powerful. The pleasure seemed to be ruining. It made you subconsciously try to push him away, to slow his actions down but no use. He was unmoved. And at that moment, you realized the meaning behind his name “mountain”. It wasn't just a name. It was a warning."
☾ synopsis : ever since your boyfriend has gotten his new tattoo - beautiful moon phases climbing up his spine - you always fail to keep your composure when looking at it. it draws you to touch it, drag your fingers, nails, tongue... however, the worst mistake you made was letting san see your poor self-control. now, he makes sure to always use his new card in this game of "who gives up first."
☾ pairing : san x f!reader
☾ genre : smut, one-shot
☾ warnings : explicit language, teasing, ass slapping, unprotected sex, thigh riding, fingering, commands, dick riding, big size, f! struggles to take it, mirror sex, back scratches, missionary, rough sex, penetration, breeding.
☾ words : 4k
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NOTE : When I saw his back and the tattoo during mama performance, trust me, the sounds I made were inhuman. I will never recover from this. The power he bias wrecked me that moment should be studied :,) this piece is my ode to this tattoo
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You failed yet again.
The temptation painted your sight in red while your willpower was at its lowest. In crushing defeat; saying goodnight to your dignity, you reached out your hand and dragged your finger down your boyfriend's naked spine.
You gulped quietly at San’s defined back muscles, now tensing under the touch of your sharp acrylic nail.
You began tracking the lines of his new tattoo. The moon cycle. Nine separate arts spread from his neck down to his slim waist. The work was beautifully done, impressive, and constantly begging you to touch it.
“You're really a fan of my latest whim.” He purred leisurely, stretching like a cat on the bed.
“Whim?” You chuckled. “You planned this tattoo for months.”
San looked so relaxed, laying on his belly as if he was waiting for a massage service. But you had a better idea.
The book you initially wanted to read was finally tossed aside. Positive reviews really made you curious. The plan for this evening was to indulge in the literature and find out if the recommendations were not bullshit.
But then your boyfriend decided to visit you in the late hours just to take off his shirt and spread his whole body on your bed. Apparently, he was tired after dance practice, so he quickly took a shower and went straight to your apartment.
Yeah, right. You had known him for years, and you knew how tired San looked like. The San that was now laying beside you had a lot of energy to spend. And there was no dance practice on Fridays.
“Not true! At first, it was supposed to be drawn only for the awards, you know, part of the lore? But I really liked how it looked. And the decision to make it real was sudden!"
“Fine.” You smiled at his cute indignation. “I'm happy that it's real, actually.”
“Why is that?”
His head rested on his hands, facing away from the spot where you sat. You used that opportunity of being out of his sight and of his guard being down.
The wickest giggle escaped your chords, “Cause now I can do this.”
You leaned over his lower back, right beyond the first tattoo of waning crescent moon. He twitched at the touch of your tongue, shamelessly climbing up his bare spine.
“Fuuuck, baby.” He whined somewhat relieved, as if he waited for that exact move of yours.
Not caring that you probably danced to his tune, you were now making your way back down with slow and juicy kisses. San’s whole body began waving at the tingling sensation. His body temperature rose rapidly. You could feel it through the thin skin of your lips.
Every single tattoo had its lines carefully traced with your tongue and then adorned with an invisible mark of your mouth. San was yours, all yours to enjoy.
Your boyfriend loved it with every fiber of his body. You could tell by the way he subconsciously hummed the melody of pure bliss. You could see it by how his sun kissed skin covered with goosebumps and how his body rose and fell from deeper and faster breathing.
You repeated the route a few times before reaching for his neck to bury your face in it. Inhaling his intoxicating smell; a mixture of soap, shampoo, and pheromones, you caused your own mind to spin.
Touching, kissing, and smelling that man was enough to make the muscles around your entrance grow tighter. You felt yourself getting incredibly wet.
“Baby…” He gasped when your teeth softly grabbed his earlobe.
His desperate pleas made you inhale sharply. You would have given him the heads of his enemies just to hear him whimper like that again.
“Hmm?”
“Promise you won't leave me grinding my dick onto your sheets like that.” Oh, his needy whines were truly to die for.
Your eyes wandered down his glistening spine right onto his shaply bottom. Slight circling movements of his hips made the cockiest smile crawl onto your mouth.
“So impatient.” You hummed.
His plump asscheeks had your head in the whirl. You needed that ass moving like that between your legs. Your cunt cried sweet tears when your head filled with the vision of San using his trained pelvis to thrust his way inside you.
You groaned in his ear, pleased at the sound that his sin worthy cheek made at the abrupt contact with your hand.
“You little shhhhit.” He hissed in full arousal at the sudden surprise and now the prickling skin.
“Oh apologies, my moon prince.” You pouted with fake guilt. To ease his abused ass, you grabbed a handful of his flesh and gave it a proper massage.
Using this opportunity, you pushed him more and more against the mattress, and you went back to teasing his neck, ear, and temple.
“Moon prin…ah fuuck.” He had no chance to ask you to elaborate on his new nickname. The new, deepened friction between his hardening cock and your satin sheets sent electric waves up his body. It reached all his nerves, which woke up just to act stupid from all the delightful stimulations.
San shifted his head to your side. The pillow traces on his cheek made you want to kiss it. But you focused on his hazy eyes and parted lips, drying up from needness.
“You're cruel, you know?” He whispered.
You laid down next to him, face to face. Obsessed, your hand never let go of his ass, groping and squeezing the plum. You stopped pushing his pelvis down. However, San kept grinding, now deeper and more aggressive.
“Look who's talking.” You teasingly licked his lips. “I had plans for this evening but you stormed into my room, exposing your beautiful chest, broad shoulders and slutty waist while wearing these black thin shorts.”
His smirk said it all.
“You're well aware that the outlines of your thighs are enough to make me drip, yet here you are.” You scoffed in frustration. ”And now that damn tattoo…”
San shifted to lay on the side, chest against chest with you. You were pulled closer to him by having your waist embraced by his strong arm, the other slid under your head to stop you from leaving.
You had no chance to react when your night dress got pulled up your hips. In a brutal way, your thong got ripped off you. There was not a chance to say anything since he immediately pushed his knee between your rubbing thighs.
“You're right.” He chuckled, feeding on your loud gasps. “I just love to see you struggle to contain yourself around me.”
San didn't have to do anything to have you grind on his thigh. You craved his touch, from the softest to cruelest, all over and inside your body
“San, ah.” You whimpered into his lips as you felt him purposely tensing up his muscles underneath you. The enhanced lines rubbed against you, making every cell in your body vibrate.
You put your hands flat on his chest. His heart beat so fast, chasing the pace of your pulse resonating in your head. No language could ever explain how much you needed him. Only your eyes could show him. Only your heat, wetness could make him feel it, and you were absolutely soaked, so much you heard squelched noises getting louder with every grind. Your shame was gone. All that mattered was a release granted to you by this beautiful man.
Your lips were brushing, noses rubbing, you breathed each other's air. The teasing, who gives up first and kisses the other, built up the tension to the point it was palpable. But the need to indulge in your taste made San lose the duel.
At first, he gently bit on your lower lip as if it was a fruit, and he wanted to see if it was ripe enough to be fully devoured.
“Pure sweetness.” He murmured with a low tone.
The moment your lips interlocked, San became braver with his actions. He stroked his hardness against your soft womb but it was your taste, scent, your closeness, the way your eyes shone and your pussy called for him that brought him to the edge of losing control. He swallowed your moans and let go only when you couldn't catch a breath from the crushing bliss.
“You're so loveable, (y/n).” He spoke as much as his own problems with breathing allowed him to. He was so hard it almost hurt, and you were so… “So touchable, irresistible. And so damn fuckable.”
“San-” You were close. His arm around your waist tightened, resulting in him fully controlling the speed of your movements.
“You'll be a good girl for me, won't you?” He growled into your lips. “I also planned this evening, you know. To pump you full, to the brim. To sit you down on my cock and watch you struggle to take it. I need that tattoo scratched with your nails. You hear me?”
The ecstasy chased you, but it was his words that tipped the scale. The fog covered your sight, and the sensation made your head fall back.
“Let's prepare you for the ride, shall we?”
San made a space between your drained folds and his wet, sticky thigh, and he slid his hand. His two digits found your entrance without a problem. Feeling them entering you, switching from stimulating your clit to pushing your sweet spot, you were done.
“Oh fuck, fuck yes.” You cried, banging at his broad chest.
San lips attached to your exposed neck, sucking, nibbling on the sensitive skin. That did not disturb him to finger you as his life depended on it.
The release came too fast, too powerful. The pleasure seemed to be ruining. It made you subconsciously try to push him away, to slow his actions down but no use. He was unmoved. And at that moment, you realized the meaning behind his name “mountain”. It wasn't just a name. It was a warning.
And you moaned that name, whined it while tossing and turning in the arms of its owner.
“Hmmm yeeees. Cum for me… cum cum cum cum.” He led you right into the void of madness.
Waves of pure bliss hit you one after another. He pushed you slightly onto your back and hovered above you. His fingers kept reentering your walls ruthlessly. The pace fastened. San needed to fuck the last ounce of orgasm out of you. He had to see you desperate for more. And you gave that to him, you gave it all.
When your trembling began to fade, he finally withdrew his long fingers. They left your slit with a pop sound as your walls did not want to let them go.
“Mmmm, so satisfying.” He cooed with a smug look on his face.
You were soaked, dripping down on your freshly changed sheets. Only San could bring you to the state like that. Only he was able to work you out.
And he knew it too well. That was why he savored your taste on his tongue each time, collecting your essence from his digits as a reward. This was his ritual with you, and he felt like pulling the knife at any man who would try to take his place.
It was a little embarrassing to cum this hard from a foreplay. He could see it in your face. Oh, he would enjoy holding it against you later, then having you challenge him just so he could prove you the point yet again. Perhaps you wouldn't be this defeated with another man. And that thought alone stroked his ego in all the right directions. The cruel prince had awakened.
While he let you catch a breath, he sat down and took care of his shorts all wet from you and his own precum. They landed next to the shreds that once was a thong.
Nonchalantly, San went back to tower over your recovering body.
“Such a good, good girl you are, (y/n). You make me want to brag about you everywhere I go.” He focused on your lips. “And I think I will. You deserve a big kiss, baby.”
You quietly sobbed at another touch of his lips on yours. San grabbed your jaw to keep you in place so he can fully immerse in you. You grabbed onto him. Arms around his shoulders, legs embracing his waist.
“More.” You whispered weakly, breaking the kiss. “Please.”
With a merciful smirk, San embraced and secured your back. He had no trouble picking you up and sitting down with you in his arms.
“It's your call, baby.” He gently kissed your neck. “I'm all yours.”
It was your turn to move.
His cock deliciously throbbed between your legs, hard and swollen, tip tinted purple. San was more than ready. His eyes demanded you ride him until you were both sweaty messes. He clearly told you what he planned for tonight.
You gave him a few slow strokes and massaged his peak, which he awarded you for with impatient curses. Depending on the position, his length as well as width could be too much for you sometimes.
But you, adjusting to his size, was what he lived for. The tight embrace of your wall required a lot of self-control to not combust immediately. You were a challenge he would never fail to accept.
You raised your hips, teasingly sliding his tip up and down your slit. You trembled anytime it brushed your entrance.
“I know you can take it.” He encouraged you with this annoying amusement in his voice. Oh, how weak you were for this arrogant man.
Placing his hands on your thighs, he gently caressed them, drawing soothing circles with his thumbs. San began to watch the show as you welcomed him inside.
“Of fuck.” You hissed at the stretch. Supporting yourself on his shoulders didn't help. You sucked him in on your own.
The air abruptly left his lungs as your pussy graced his manhood with the first silkiest hug tonight. He wanted to act tough, intimidating with his cocky smile, but you felt like heaven.
San fought hard. You whetted his big appetite. He wished he had taken the matters in his hands, but he couldn't just pin it to you. Also, where was the fun in that? He preferred to watch you cry and struggle as he sunk deeper inside your warmth, inch by inch, without mercy.
“Shit, you're sooo tight.” He gasped out at how you began working on suck him dry.
Possessed with pleasure, San waited until you got more comfortable with his size. And the moment he felt you loosened and the relief ghosted your face, he knew he could push into you fully.
You shook on your whole body when he moved his hips up and finally reached his goal.
“Ruude.” You whimpered, feeling absolutely intoxicated all stuffed like that.
While you tried to gather your thoughts, San released your breasts from the night dress and buried his face in their plush. He inhaled the pure scent of your bare skin. You smelled sweet and spicy, exactly like your personality.
“You know me. I like being rude.” He smirked. “And I know you. You like it too.”
He was right. The struggle was real, but even that provided you with indescribable bliss. And now, when you engulfed him fully, the satisfaction was out the roof.
San firmly put his hands on your hips and moved them without a word of warning.
Waves of delight washed upon you when his tip swept over your sweet spot, “Waaait, I- ne-ed to aah!”
But he didn't listen. He couldn't stop, not with you taking him so well, not when you were dripping all over his thighs.
Under his control, you felt him reach new depths with every grind. Setting the pace, he didn't need to lead you anymore. The fullness you felt was driving you crazy. You put your head on his shoulder, hands on his back, and you rode him, deep and starving.
“If I'm your moon prince. Then what does that make you? My moon?” He asked out of nowhere as if he wasn’t just penetrating the deepest corners of your womanhood and making you lose your senses.
You couldn't answer. You could not form a single word.
“Hmm?” He was stubborn, despite swallowing his own moans. “Are you my moon?”
You mumbled something. The force his dick rubbed on your sweet spot took away your ability to think, let alone speak. You felt every beat in his veins. But San needed you to play along.
A juicy smack landed on your ass, “Are you?”
You mustered a little will to answer his demands, “Ye-es.”
He kissed your collar bone gently, which clashed with the treatment you received somewhere else.
“Then let me howl at you the whole night.”
With these words, his arms embraced your waist and shifted your whole weight onto himself. You were lifted up a little bit, enough so he had space to pound on you as freely as he could.
San began claiming you, rough and madly. His hips moved underneath you while his eyes studied every emotion on your face.
“Look at yourself.” He breathed out. “Look how cute you are, melting around my dick like that.”
Ah, yes. The mirror in front of your bed.
San never failed to remind you about it when you were getting intimate. He never failed to use it as a tool.
You didn't hang it there to watch yourself getting demolished. There was really no other place in your room to put this big mirror you bought on a very beneficial sale. But ever since you brought San in your apartment, the reflection stopped being associated with only checking your appearance.
You raised your half shut eyes at your face. You stared at how pathetic you were and how much you didn't care about it. You watched your features contorted in delight when San reached deeper and now was hitting your cervix unforgivably. You heard your own cries from the power, tears rolling down your cheeks. It felt so good, unearthly good.
The moment the frequency of your walls’ spasm grew, he sat you down on his cock again, burying his whole face in your neck. Now both your bodies rocked back and forth.
“It's too much.” You pinned your nails into his back and dragged them against his skin.
San cursed between hisses, making you look at the marks you just made. There was no blood, but the lines were getting bright red.
The was something about the way his wide back muscles moved while holding you tight, fucking you mindlessly. You focused on the tattoo that started it all. It worked on you like a flame on a moth. Every little thing pushed you closer and closer to the point of breaking. The way his body felt under your touch, how it moved with one goal - to have you scream.
He smelled like a late summer day, despite the outside weather being cold. The sweet sound he moaned into your ear made your whole existence buzz.
“I can't hold it anymore.” You informed him breathlessly. “I'm about to cum. But I can't…I can't…”
That position, despite allowing him to penetrate you the deepest, tended to exhaust you. San could tell it, by the way your movements slowed down compared to your need for release. Gladly, he had more strength than enough to take care of you.
He, himself, needed you to sob his name as he took you like an animal. San had nothing against slow, passionate sex but with you, it was simply impossible. You occupied his mind every second of the day. There were many nights he spent alone due to tours and busy schedules, sleepless nights, spent on quietly moaning out your name as his drenched cock throbbed in his hand. So when he finally had you in his arms, he let all the hunger out. San couldn't get enough of you. Calling it addiction would've been an understatement. You were his object of worship.
With the sudden overflow of motivation, he effortlessly changed your position that would allow him to give his goddess the finish she deserved. Your weakening body was laid down on its back. His pride did not slide out of you, even for a moment.
“Baby...” You called for him, but all you received was a glance, a momentary view of his eyes that were like the ones of a wild wolf.
San pulled your hips up to fuck you in the most suitable angle. His firm grasp kept you in place. The next goal was to set the pace that was going to have you cumming in seconds.
His elastic pelvis graced you with powerful yet skillful thrusts. His tip attacked your sensitive center, not letting it rest. You got even wetter, slicker to the point he didn't feel when he was going in and out of you.
“San, I'm…” You gasped, not able to make a sound. The control over your body belonged to San.
You broke beneath him.
The extreme heat accumulated in your abdomen exploded, flooding you from head to toes. Your sight blurred, heart pounded in your chest. The loud cries from the indescribable pleasure overcame any other sound in the room. There was no way to stop the severe trembling. It was too much. He was too much for your fragile, sensitive body to handle all this differently. You shattered into small pieces around him. And you would do it again and again.
San leaned above you with his hands on both sides of your head. You saw the sweat dripping down his neck and chest, and it drove you insane.
“My balls prepared a nice load for my moon.” He grunted with trouble. “And you will take it all. Every drop.”
His command, like a charm, had your cramping walls grab onto the base of his cock, their fast pulse forcely ripped the orgasm out of him.
“Ah fuck, fuck, fuck fuck!” He whined, shooting his rich load inside you. You accepted his throbs and spasms like a reward, with pure bliss.
San took his time, sliding in and out, painting your walls in white with his essence. Loud curses and moans leaving his throat were a reminder that you absolutely belonged to him.
“Fuck baby, the way you tighten around me when you cum...” He groaned, melting over the satisfying sensation. “Paradise.”
You embraced him with so much appreciation and love when he laid on you, forbidding him from exiting you.
He looked at your closed eyes and their teary corners. He studied your parted lips that he wanted to kiss constantly. You were so perfect, all wasted like that.
To calm you both down, he leaned to the side and began caressing your neck with lazy smooches. Your quiet, adorable little moans in response to his affection made the blood rush in his veins again.
“More.” He whispered desperately in your ear. “I need…more.”
He paid closer attention to your bare breasts. They called for him, bouncing slightly as he began to move his hips in circles. Your erected buds hardened, caught in his skillful lips. Body decided for you. It yearned for him once more.
“Baby…” You entangled your fingers in his black hair, feeling him slowly thickening inside you.
“There is still so much I wanna do to you. I'm so horny for you, baby.” His raspy, sultry tone was enough to make your pussy flutter. And he felt that with every ounce of his being. There was no better feeling than your desire for him.
The art on his back crossed your spinning mind. You found the culprit of this insatiability.
“Damn you, tattoo.” You giggled. “I really wanted to read that book tonight.”
He lined up his face with yours and gave you that well-known, disarming smile with dimples that had you and all his fans go weak in the knees.
Little did you know, the tattoo you were now cursing wasn't his "latest whim". The moment he saw your eyes shine at the drawn one, he immediately decided to have it forever engraved on his skin. Now San had his own little trick to keep your full attention on no one else but him.
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@nateezfics @hazysan 💋
2K notes · View notes
euphoricfilter · 5 months
Text
standing next to you:
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pairing: dancer! jungkook x f. reader
genre: fluff || smut || non-idol au || strangers to somewhat lovers
summary: with all those eyes on him, he only had eyes for you
word count: 4k
tags/ warnings: infidelity (womp womp), m/c has a crusty rich old bitch of a husband, smut in the forms of: dom! jungkook, who is a little condescending (because we all know i like that), subby! reader, semi-public sex?, oral (fem. receiving), unprotected sex, the pull out method (womp womp), multiple orgasms, cum marking? jungkook has a dick piercing!!!! lets goooo!!!!
notes: yippee jungkook gave me another smut idea. kinda half edited so if there’s mistakes then no there isn’t <\3
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.
It couldn’t have been more than half a second, Jungkook’s eyes catching yours for the briefest moment as the spotlights dance over the crowd, what could have been mistaken for the galaxy reflected in your irises as you look at him.
The eyes that told a story of worship, how his mere existence was a crazed phenomenon your brain was barely able to process as you follow his body across the stage.
For months now, he would catch glimpses of you, always sat at the same table with the same people. Never once talking to them as your focus lays solely on him as he dances on stage.
Your face is soon veiled by one of his back-up dancers, flicker of a moment gone. Whatever was there, a short spark of interest simmering out as your face is no longer in his line of sight. Buzz of something a little more snapped, dissolving into fine dust under the orange hue of the light.
There was such innocent wonder in your eyes as your gaze flickers across the stage, entirely enamoured by what lay before you. The theatre nothing like you had ever seen before, ever so extravagant, and elegant. Male dancers dominating the stage, flowing as if they were dancing on ice, so free-spirited in the ways their bodies move.
Constant stimuli of such an event scratching the back of your mind—the way Jungkook moves enough for you to drown out the rest of the chatter behind you, your existence nothing to any of these people.
Your heart hammers in time with the base that tickles the bottom of your feet, broaches on the dancers’ jackets star-like as the spotlight finds its place back on stage, Jungkook’s face soon illuminated again. Face sculpted, a gift from the high heavens, a man that captures the hearts of many, man and woman alike.
He wonders if your eyes remain on him, bright with wonder as he glides across the stage, trying his hardest to find your eyes behind the harsh glare of the lights, sat ever so pretty, the prettiest little thing he’d ever seen.
It’s only when the lights dim does he see the hand on your thigh, silver band of a wedding ring sat one of the fingers.
Though you don’t seem to notice, entirely focused on the stage you don’t seem to realise when your husband squeezes your thigh, entirely unaware when he pushes his chair back to stand up. Ignorant to the fact that he saunters over to another woman a couple of tables behind where you’re sat.
Left alone in the company of your husband’s friends, who have no means to talk to you, nor acknowledge your existence. Because who would talk to the wife of the man who clearly has no care for what should be his lover? And as much as you pretend to not notice, never once asking why he gets home so late, or the messages that flash across the screen of his phone, never once have you brought it up.
Because that wasn’t your job. You weren’t there to care, to worry about who got your husband’s dick wet or who was stuffed full of his cum, who had it dripping down their legs when he re-emerges after you hadn’t seen him for what felt like hours. You were there to look pretty, and to smile at any man that gives you attention, nothing more and nothing less.
Jungkook thinks you must be the first to stand on your feet once the performance is over, eager in your applause. Too shy to meet his eyes from where he looks down at you from the stage, but not enough to not show your appreciation for his art. Glittery shimmer of the dim light illuminating you, stood centre of the room, awe reflected from your face as you quickly glance up to look at him before the curtain lowers.
So many minutes of your life stolen by him, perfect in the way his body moved, moments you never wish you get back because you wished to watch him dance forever.
Your eyes flit down to the sliver of stomach that peeks from beneath his blazer when he raises his arms at the applause.
You swallow at the deep rumble of his voice as he thanks the crowd, turning to thank the back-up dancers too before he’s facing you again, hint of a smile on his face as he takes one final bow. The curtains falling from the ceiling, your hair tickling your neck at the short gust of wind it produces.
It takes a moment for you to gather yourself, mind reeling as you glance around the room. Entirely isolated, even with hundreds of people surrounding you.
You can’t see where your husband had wandered off to, swallowing down any apprehension you have as you sit back down, fingers gentle as they pick up the flute of champagne—too expensive for your tastes, and you hate to think just how much it costs. Much rather having the host spend that sort of money on the reason for this evening than wowing guests with expensive alcohol and high-end food. Because surely the fund raiser would fare better with all that money than the pompous assholes that laughed in the face of the less fortunate.
You almost jump out of your seat when a heavy hand lands on your shoulder, eyes wide as your tilt your head upwards to see who it could be. Heart hammering when your eyes meet Jungkook’s, flickering across his face.
You swallow, “Hi” you breathe, turning your body to face him a little better.
The corners of Jungkook’s lips curl up into a smile, piercings catching the light, “What’s a pretty girl doing sitting alone?”
He pulls out an empty chair beside you, your head flickering across all the empty chairs around the table, wondering where all your husband’s friends had gone.
“Oh just…” you start, turning back to look at him, words dissolving on your tongue when your eyes meet his.
He raises an eyebrow, leaning back in the chair a little, legs spread wide. His eyes flicker down to the ring on your finger.
“I thought your performance earlier was amazing” you rush, hands running over your silk dress. Perfect change of conversation.
Jungkook leans a little closer to you, reaching across the table a little to grab your glass of champagne. Your eyes stay trained on his lips as they wrap around the rim of the glass, breath catching in the back of your throat as he downs the rest of your drink.
“I don’t think I ever caught your name?” he urges, eyes sharp as they flicker across your face.
“Y/n” you breathe, “and you are…”
“Jungkook” he holds out his hand for you to shake. You take it, toes curling, imaginary electric current slipping down your body at his gentle touch.
“I could show you backstage if you like?” he offers, hands smothering down the imaginary creases in his suit, nodding towards the stage, “It’s pretty nice back there”
You glance over your shoulder, eyes scanning the room for a moment before you’re looking back at Jungkook nodding, “I would like that” you murmur, taking his hand when he offers it to you. He tugs you a little closer to his side once you’ve stood up, linking your arm with his as he walks the both of you around the maze of tables.
Not once does it cross your mind that all the people in the room can see you clinging onto another man, eyes glued to the side of his face as you paint a picture of him in your mind. After so many months of watching him perform on stage, a perfect entity so far out of reach, he was not stood beside you. Warm flesh radiating underneath his suit jacket, scar on his cheek deepened from the overhead lights, calloused hand holding yours.
Someone that had felt entirely unhuman, so long of yearning, but there he was, touching you like it were nothing and he weren’t one of your dreams. Silly little fantasies of a man that should never be yours, dreams of what days would be like with someone like Jungkook. Dreams that should have never been yours to begin with, not while the slippery claws of the law tie you to another man.
Jungkook, ever the gentleman, helps you up the stairs backstage. Narrow hallway entirely empty as he flicks the light on, “It’s truly wonderful back here” he tells you, not letting go of your hand once.
You look around in awe, head turning to look over the outfits hung on clothes racks as you walk by.
“We can order food in my dressing room? I assume you haven’t eaten yet and I don’t think they plan to bring dinner out for a while longer” he tells you, pulling a set of keys out the front pocket of his jacket, opening the door with ease.
“I am a little hungry” you hum, stepping into the dressing room, sitting on one of the couches when he motions for you to make yourself comfortable.
Your eyes flicker towards the door when he locks it, apprehension clawing its way up your body.
“Jungkook…?” you ask, gaze never leaving the lock, even as he slinks towards you, long steps across the room having him in front of you in no time.
“You’re tense” he sits beside you, hand running down the length of your arm, “Let me fix that”
You don’t miss the dark haze in his eyes, cunt clenching at the mere thought of a man of his calibre wanting you in any sort of way.
You swallow, eyes glancing down at his lips then back up to his eyes, “We can’t” you whisper.
“Why’s that?” he murmurs, fingers training over your thighs, silk dress soft under his fingertips.
“Because…” you start, swallowing down a whimper when his fingers graze your warm skin.
“Because” he urges, teasing as he inches his fingers that little big higher.
“Because my—” you swallow, Jungkook’s scoff cutting you off.
“Because of your incompetent husband?”
You tongue wets your bottom lip, fingers clenching by your side, “Yes” your voice breathless.
“Leave him” Jungkook groans, hand tugging yours closer to him, slipping the wedding ring off your finger.
You watch as he holds it, prickle of guilt building within your chest at the fact you don’t feel bad in the slightest for what you want from Jungkook, nor the fact he holds a symbol of love and you can only wish for him to take it forever, no longer yours. No longer a burden you wish to carry.
He slips it into the pocket of his jacket, leaning forward enough for the tip of his nose to kiss yours, short huff of a breath slipping past his lips. He tilts his head a little, gentle hesitation tugging at his body; leeway for you to pull away and stop this whenever you want.
You let out a shaky breath, fingers curling into the collar of his jacket, tugging him towards you. A groan catches in the back of his throat when your lips collide with his, desperate need radiating from every pore of your electrified body—tongue prodding at his bottom lip.
“My darling” he breathes in the brief moment you part, though he wastes no time tilting your head backwards that little bit as he kisses you again.
You hum against his lips, eyes slipping shut as his hands wander the length of your body, thumbs digging into your hips, down the length of your thighs until he’s tugging at the hem of your dress.
Your pussy clenches as his fingers inch that little bit higher, moan caught by Jungkook as he ghosts over tender skin, pulling the fabric higher and higher until he’s brushing his knuckles over your panties. Damp beneath his fingers as he presses through your covered folds, your hips bucking upwards when he nudges your clit.
A breathy laugh is pulled from him as you rock forward a little, chasing the pleasure as he presses his thumb a little harder against your clit.
“Pretty girl” he murmurs, hand slipping from between your legs to tug at your dress, pulling it up and over your head.
Your arms fold over your bare chest, Jungkook’s tongue wetting his bottom lip as his eyes rake down the length of your body, fingers digging into the meat of your thighs.
“How beautiful” he says, bending down a little to press a gentle kiss over your collar bone. His hands leaving your thighs to tug your arms away from your chest, guttural groan vibrating from his chest.
You let out something similar to a squeak when he wraps his lips around one of your nipples, goosebumps prickling up the skin of your arms at the flash of pleasure that shoots down your spine as his teeth graze over the sensitive skin.
Slick leaks into your panties as your hand grazes over the evident erection that strains behind the expensive fabric of his pant, cock twitching beneath the tips of your fingers as you squeeze his length.
“Want you” he ruts his hip upwards into your hand, tongue flat over your tits before he sucks at your warm skin, red blossoming with every mean little nip of his teeth. Claim of your body as his, evidence of his lust and your leaking pleasure that pools between your legs.
“You have me” you breathe, fiddling with the button of his dress pants, stumbling over yourself a little as he helps you lay back on the couch. He tugs your panties down your thighs, bottom lip tucking between his teeth as he watches the string of arousal that connects the cotton to your sodden pussy, all puffy and pretty. Clit erect and desperate, moan slipping off your lips when he leans down to press a kiss to the swollen little nub, pocketing your panties in his jacket.
“Jungkook” you moan, fingers digging into his hair, pulling him further into your pussy, hips rolling up into his face as he lays his tongue flat for you to ride.
He tugs down his pants and underwear just under his straining cock as you use him to get yourself off, shameless in your own pleasure as he moans into your pussy—incoherent whisper of how good you taste drowned out by the slick sound of your folds parting, fingers prodding at your entrance before sinking between your walls.
You clench around the intrusion, fingers tightening their hold on Jungkook’s hair as you moan out his name, mind nothing but lust filled mush, pleasure coursing through every inch of your body as he sucks on your clit.
“Gonna cum” you moan, fingers tugging at your nipples. Hiccup of his name catching in your throat at a particularly hard suck, thick fingers curling right over your sweet spot.
He presses a second finger into your, incessant nudge against your insides sending you reeling over the edge. A cry falling from your lips as you reach your peak, hips still rutting up into Jungkook’s mouth as you ride your high.
“Good girl” he murmurs against your pussy, fingers slipping out of you so he can drink down your release. Tip of his tongue pressing past your entrance to take whatever your body has to give him, cum coated fingers pressing slightly over your still buzzing clit, fiery pleasure thrumming beneath your skin.
“S’ too much” you whine, pushing his head from between your legs, sheen of your arousal coating his mouth and chin shiny.
Your eyes flicker down when something shiny catches the light, and they widen slightly when you see his hand wrapped around his thick cock, thumb running over the king’s crown piercing.
“Oh” you murmur, pussy clenching at the prospect of him being inside of you.
Jungkook hums, fingers squeezing tighter around his length, “You like it, baby?”
You swallow, tongue running over your bottom lip.
You nod, legs falling open a little wider for him, “Want it” you mumble, fingers parting your folds, silent invitation for him to split you open, fuck and fill you until you’re nothing than a pile of pleasure.
“Yeah?” his lips curl at the corners, hint of a smile showing.
“Mhmm” you nod, and his eyes catch sight of your cunt clenching.
“What do we say when we want something, baby?” he urges, scooting between your legs, pressing his cockhead through your folds, watching your hips jolt at the gentle stimulation to your clit.
You arch your back, dribble of slick caught by the tip of his cock as he slicks his length up with your arousal.
“Please, Jungkook” you breathe, “Please I need you”
“So good for me” he groans, thumb pressing just under his piercing, pressing his cock into you.
Your mouth falls open into a silent moan, ache throbbing down your length as his cock splits you open.
“Good girl” he murmurs, stomach tensing when you clench around his cock, piercing dragging deliciously against your walls.
“So good” you moan, hands finding his hips to pull him further inside of you, desperate for every agonising inch he had.
He holds himself inside of you, pelvis flushed with the backs of your thighs as he helps you rest your legs around his waist.
“Yeah, you feel good, baby?” he leans down, lips pressing against your jaw, fingers sinking into the flesh of your hips, gently rutting his cock into you, “Better than your husband could ever make you feel, yeah?”
He lets out a breathy laugh when he feels you clench around his girth, thighs twitching at his words.
“Come on baby, tell me how much better I make you feel” he taunts, dragging an inch of his cock out of you, distressed whine tumbling past your lips as your pussy clenches, trying to pull his cock back into you.
“Tell me” one of his hands takes hold of your jaw, tugging your face so your eyes meet his, “Tell me”
“You make me feel better than he does” you mumble.
“Louder” he shakes your head a little.
“You make me feel better” you say a little louder, chest tightening.
“Than who?” he urges, thumb running over your bottom lip, pressing into your mouth and over your tongue.
“My husband” you slur, mouth tugged open by his thumb.
“And who do you belong to?”
You blink up at Jungkook, drool gathering in the corners of your lips, such a pretty little thing. Ever so messy and desperate, awfully cute if you asked Jungkook.
“Who?”
You swallow, pussy clenching, “You”
“Mmhmm” he hums, “that’s right, all mine”
You rut your hips upwards, clit dragging against his stomach, thrum of pleasure making your toes curl, eyes still trained on Jungkook as you try and get yourself off.
He tugs at the corner of your mouth, thumb pressing into your cheek, watching as the skin bulges. And he wonders briefly what you’d look like with his cock stuffed in your mouth, pretty eyes blinking up at him like they did when he performed on stage; like he held all the secrets to the world in the palms of his hands. Those same hands that would smother your body with his love, dimpling pretty skin and pulling you back onto his cock.
“Jungkook” you whine, hips rutting a little more desperately, so needy for a second orgasm.
“A needy little thing, that’s what you are” his lips curl into a smile, thumb falling from your mouth as his hips pull backwards, your thighs quivering at the drag of his piercing inside of you.
He pulls out until the tip, hands tugging your thighs open a little wider before he’s snapping back into you, relentless as he picks up his pace. He holds you by the backs of your knees, angling your body that little bit off the couch, cockhead pressing against your sweet spot with every rough jab back into you.
“Shit, that’s good” he groans, wet smack back into you echoing off the walls of the dressing room.
You moan a staccato of his name, nothing but how good his cock fills you up in your mind, so entirely full of Jungkook in every respect of the word.
He doesn’t slow down, rhythmic with every thrust back into you, pussy clenching as your fingers slide down the length of your body, pressing over your sensitive clit.
“I’m close” you moan, free hand dragging down the length of his arm, grabbing at the fabric of his suit as your back arches.
“Come for me, baby” he groans, “Make a mess of my cock”
Your hand slips from his arm, grabbing hold of your chest as you continue to flick your clit, moan catching in the back of your throat as you slip head first into your orgasm.
Jungkook watches your face contour in pleasure, snapping his cock into you sloppy. He twitches between your walls, fingers digging into you a little harder, staving off his orgasm for as long as he can while you ride out your high, mind so far gone, eyes glazed over as you look up at him.
“That’s it, baby” his voice is gruff, pressing his cock against your sweet spot, your hips jolting, pleasure slipping into odd tingly overstimulation as he ruts into you, your fingers still pressing over your clit.
Jungkook moans, cock slipping out of you, his hand quick to wrap around his length. Slick noise reverberating in your ears as he brings himself over the edge, angling his cock so his cum paints your stomach. Thick string of white coating your skin, spurts of it shooting out of his cock. His stomach tenses, eyes slipping shut as he squeezes his cockhead, final spurt of his seed slipping just over your clit, joining the wet mess of your cunt as it slips down your folds.
“That’s a good girl” he groans, letting go of his softening cock.
He looks at you down the length of his nose, watching as you smear his cum over your skin, absolutely fascinated as it clings to your fingers.
His cock stirs in interest when you dip your fingers into your mouth, tongue licking up his release.
“You little minx” he laughs, bringing your legs back down, bending to press a kiss to your cum stained lips.
Your eyes slip shut as he kisses you, any tension left in your body dissolving as his tongue licks up his own release from your lips.
“Leave him” Jungkook murmurs, mouth hovering over yours, eyes still closed as the both of you bask in your afterglow. Skin sweat tacky, cooling slowly as his fingers dance over your skin, final humming of pleasure beneath your skin fizzling away.
“I can’t” you breathe.
“Run away then” he says, “with me”
Your eyes slip open, hand holding Jungkook’s jaw.
“Jungkook” you warn.
“What?” he mumbles, eyes slipping open to meet your own, “We can go somewhere far, he won’t find you… he won’t find us”
You wet your bottom lip, mind reeling as you weigh out your options.
“He doesn’t love you” his thumb runs over your cheek.
“I know” you whisper, eyes flickering between his, “But do you?”
Jungkook swallows, “Not as much as I want to, but that doesn’t mean what I’m feeling isn’t love”
You glance over at the clock on the wall, bottom lip tucked between your teeth as silence stretches out between the both of you.
You let out a long sigh, “We have an hour at most… before he’ll come looking”
Jungkook can’t help the smile that tugs onto his lips, “Then we should get going?”
The corners of your own lips tug upwards, “Yes… I suppose we should” you say, taking the hand he offers to help you sit up.
“Don’t make me regret this” you warn him as you slip your dress over your head, cringing at the drying cum that clings to your skin.
“I won’t” he promises.
2K notes · View notes
roguelov · 6 months
Text
Sleepless Night
Summary: Unable to sleep, you stumbled across Sanji at the back of the ship. A quick exchange, and some teasing remarks, a realization was made. Sanji hasn’t been with anyone, and you wanted to be his first
Word Count: ~ 4k
Reader: Afab (referred as love/sweetheart)
Warning: SMUT (oral (m!receiving and f!receiving), light exhibition (outside at night), voyeurism, inexperienced!Sanji)
Part 2
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MINOR DNI/ 18+ ONLY
The late night breeze rippled across the obsidian glasslike sea. The ship, the Going Merry, was gently rocked like a baby in a cradle. The moon and stars glittered across the sky, guiding those to the land of dreams. It was a calm night, a peaceful night.
Yet, one soul was awake.
Sanji leaned his forearms on the railing, overlooking the sea staring off into the horizon. The sky and sea almost seamlessly blended together. A cigarette lazily hung from his fingertips. The salty water misted in the air, mixing with the light smoke. He brought the cigarette to his lips, inhaling deeply. The sweet nicotine swirled around, filling his chest. Tipping his head back, he exhaled slowly. His usually pristine suit was exchanged for sweatpants and a plain shirt. The chilly air nipped at his skin, but he didn’t mind. In fact, he welcomed it. Everything about tonight should lull a person to sleep, and have them running to be tucked nicely under the covers, yet he was wide awake.
The only one, or so he thought.
“You know those things can kill you.”
Sanji immediately smiled to himself. He laughed once, then glanced over to you. You strolled up beside him, sporting similar pajamas. Another sign you both should be asleep, you were dressed for it. You leaned your arms onto the railing, mimicking his stance.
“Is that so?” He quipped. “I’m sure a few won’t kill me before the Grand Line.”
“No,” you tilted your head in thought. “But, I might if I see you light another one.”
Sanji dipped his head, leaning in close to you. The smoke wafted off of him, a smell which always lingered around him. A smell which stirred such conflicting emotions in you. A devilish smirk danced over his lips. “Are you threatening me, sweetheart?”
You let out a bark of laughter and matched his smirk. “Definitely.”
You quickly snatched his cigarette then flicked it out into the sea. Sanji blinked, stunned for a moment. “I still had some left,” he mumbled, disappointedly. He shook his head, then smiled back at you. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
You rolled your eyes, and bumped his hip, “So, why are you up so late?”
“Couldn’t sleep, you?”
“Same,” you sighed, leaning heavily into the railing. It was just one of those nights, your mind and body were at war with each other.
Sanji smirked, “Bet I could make you tired.”
You snorted, playing into this game of yours. “Yeah? Do you think you could keep up with me?”
“Oh! Well, look at you,” he chuckled. “I certainly will try. What do you say, love? Should we give it a go?”
This was your normal relationship with Sanji. The light teasing, the flirtatious comments; well, him more than you. Sanji’s silver tongue was far faster and sweeter than your own. Yet, you never thought it was nothing else but some simply fun.
Or you thought it was just for him.
Maybe it was because the two of you were alone, maybe it was because you knew you would probably just crawl back to your bed unable to sleep the rest of the night, maybe it was because he looked so unbelievably beautiful in the moonlight, you wanted to push it tonight. Normally, you would have dropped it by now. You would both laugh, and pretend nothing happened. Only for these same heart pounding scenarios to happen over and over.
Yet, a voice called out: your buried desires for the cook.
You wanted to test where the boundary in the sand was drawn between the two of you. Was it only games? Was there some truth behind his words? With the rest of the crew sleeping, you had to take your chance now.
Staring unwaveringly into his dazzling blue eyes, you said, “And if I say yes? What then?”
Sanji blinked, taken back. He opened his mouth and muttered utterly confused, “Wait, what?”
Don’t turn back now.
“I said -“
“No, no, I heard you. It’s just I, uh, I didn’t really expect you to ever answer with a yes.”
You cocked your head. Sanji’s smooth, wicked tongue was failing him. This was a side you never thought you would see, let alone a side he had. His words then replayed in your head, making you question a few things. “Why wouldn’t I?”
Sanji was handsome, sweet, kind, a great friend and cook. Only a fool would say no to him.
And a fool you were for a long time.
He licked his lips, glancing away. “I, uh, I don’t know -“ he fiddled with his hands, wishing desperately you didn’t toss away his cigarette - “I just never thought you would or if … if …”
His voice trailed off.
Your eyebrows knitted together. You stared more and more, watching him with confusion while he oddly retreated within himself. Under the moonlight, a faint blush dusted across his cheeks. His eyes widened, actively avoiding your gaze. He fidgeted in place, picking at his nails or part of the banister.
He was so nervous, so unlike him, almost as if -
Realization finally struck you.
“Oh - oh!” You twisted around to face him directly. There was no way to beat around the bush, you just had to ask him. “Sanji, have you ever been with anyone before?”
He tensed up at your question. You hit the nail square on the head. He sighed, dropping his shoulders. Was there any real point in hiding it now? “I may or may not have been busy with the Baratie and the old man, never had much time to myself.”
“Really?”
You would have never guessed. You would have assumed he had flings almost every night with the constant stream of customers. A new love, a new interest, with every ship that came in.
“Yes,” he groaned. Shame and embarrassment bubbled up inside of him. He may talk a big game, but he had nothing to back it up.
“Hey.” You gently rested your hand on his arm. His attention dropped to your hand then up to your kind face. “I’m not judging you, I don’t care honestly. I’m just surprised because you’re just so - so … flirty? Sauve? You’re just really good with your words.”
Even if he can be a bit cheesy at times.
Sanji laughed through his nose. “I find words are easier, sweetheart.”
You smiled at him, so endearing and sweet. His heart skipped at such a loving sight. “I don’t blame you, people can be a bit more complex,” you chuckled, hoping to lighten the mood.
He smiled softly in return, then glanced away. You both looked back out towards the sea. Sanji still naturally leaned into you, seeking out your warmth and comfort. Despite it all, nothing seemed to truly change. He was still Sanji, and you were still you.
Or so it seemed.
You, on the other hand, were now utterly restless. An idea was planted inside your head. One you couldn’t quite ignore. You bit your lip, nervously.
Where is the line? And do I dare keep pushing it?
“Sanji?”
He hummed, almost absentmindedly.
“Could … could I be your first?”
“What?” He whipped his head towards you.
“We don’t have to go all the way, I thought maybe I could just …”
How could you word this? You didn’t want to be harshly blunt and possibly frighten him.
“Just to start off small, I was thinking maybe I could … suck you off?”
You winced internally. That wasn’t entirely smooth. But, like you said, Sanji was better with words than you were.
He gulped, gawking at you. His quick fire mouth silenced for once. How could he say no? Why would he say no? To be his first, it was almost like a dream. Excited nerves sparked across his growing hot skin. His heart pounded feverishly in his chest, and he licked his lips trying to find his voice again.
“Are … are you sure?” He asked in a soft dazed whisper.
You smiled. “Sanji, I don’t mind but this is about you. Do you want this?”
“Yes,” he breathed out, without needing a second thought.
He wanted this, he wanted you. He wanted you the moment he saw you, but he never thought such fantasies could become reality.
“Good,” you whispered. You slowly sank to your knees in front of him.
“Out here?” He whispered out in surprise.
“Why not? Everyone else is asleep, and we’re at the back of the ship so no one should see us.”
His body buzzed. “Are you sure?”
You glanced up at him for a moment. Nerves were written so plainly all over his face. Maybe, this is a bit too much. “Sanji, we can go inside if you want. This is about you so -“
“Out here is good.”
You blinked, shocked by his quick change. “Are you sure? Because I want you to be comfortable.”
“Yeah,” he sighed then smiled. Honestly, the place didn’t matter. He just wanted you. But, out here on the deck, oh it sent a pleasant chill down his spine. “I’m sure, love.”
“Okay then,” you nodded.
You situated yourself, ensuring Sanji’s back leaned into the railing while you sat on your knees before him. Your hands skimmed up his thighs, just dipping your toe into the water. And yet, Sanji shook slightly under the simple touch.
“Relax, Sanji.”
“Sweetheart, I’m trying but - oh my god, you look so - so -“
Amazing. Beautiful. Stunning.
You peered up at him with adoration. Yet, a sinful darkness swept over your features. A viper-like smile crossed over your lips. You couldn’t hold back your desires. Seeing him stuttering, so unlike his usual composed self, was absolutely thrilling. You chuckled at his rosy tinted cheeks and ears.
“What happened? You’re usually so good with your words,” you teased, running your hands up and down his thighs.
His knees nearly buckled. You hadn’t even truly done anything, but any touch left his body dizzy. He was trapped in a whirlwind of building desires. “Hard to think when you’re looking up at me like that,” he mumbled.
You hummed, smirking to yourself. “Well? Can I take these off?” You snapped the band of his sweatpants, almost making him jump.
Sanji didn’t trust his voice for once. He simply nodded.
“Wonderful,” you purred.
You carefully tugged down the sweatpants, revealing a wet spot on his boxers. You bit your lip. You hadn’t begun, and yet he was already turned on. It fueled your ego a bit.
“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.” You promised.
But, you would also have your fun along the way.
You softly blew on the wet patch. Sanji’s hands grabbed the railing, holding it in a crushing white-knuckling grip. He swallowed, and groaned very softly.
How was he going to last?
You kissed directly over the patch.
Sanji shoved a fist into his mouth, forcing back an awfully loud moan.
You slowly slid down his boxers, and his cock sprung out. You shivered at the sight of it. To say the cook was packing was an understatement. You snuck a glance up at him. He looked adorable. No, appetizing. His cheeks were flushed, and a hand covered his mouth preventing any wayward sounds. He was fighting back against his own desires, but you desperately wanted the cook to lose control. You wanted to see this side of him, to see pleasure wrought into every inch of his body.
And to know you were the first made it all the more delicious.
Your fingers curled around the base of his cock. Sanji fiercely but his lip, trying to keep calm. Your thumb brushed over his red, swollen tip, gathering up precum. You gave him a few soft and teasingly slow pumps. Sanji tipped his head back, falling under your spell. His hand slid from his mouth, latching onto the railing. Your hands were far better than his own.
You then swept the flat of your tongue over his swollen tip. He bit down on his lip harshly, almost about to draw blood. His eyes squeezed so tight, losing a part of himself with every passing second.
“Fucking hell,” he hissed out.
You chuckled, mischievously. Teasing him was so easy now. His reactions were delightful, and spurred your own growing desires.
Your tongue ran up the underneath of his cock. He slapped his hand over his mouth, groaning into his palm. Then, you peppered kisses up and down. With each kiss - each sweet butterfly kiss - he became more and more vocal.
If only you could hear it so clearly.
Kissing his tip one last time, your lips finally wrapped around him and took him inch by inch. Your tongue glided along his base, tasting him and feeling the weight of him. Taking all of him, you held him in your mouth for a second before slowly pulling back. You repeated the movements, slow and steady. A teasing pace, or a way to warm him up to it.
Your eyes flickered up, eager to see all of his reactions.
His eyebrows were pinched together in pleasure. His soft pants could not be completely silenced by his hand. While, the other held firmly onto the railing. He needed stability, he needed support.
You removed your mouth completely. You reached over, gently grabbing his hand on the railing and guiding to the top of your head. “Here,” you encouraged. “You can keep your hand here, and tug on my hair if you want.”
He peered down at you like some dazzling treasure. “I - really? Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you.”
You laughed lightly. Your hands wrapped around his thighs. “You can’t hurt me. Besides -“ you threw him a wicked smirk - “maybe I want you to hurt me.”
Fuck.
He could have came right there.
“You’re dangerous, sweetheart,” he muttered in awe.
You winked, then chuckled darkly. You quickly took him in your mouth again, setting a faster pace. Your tongue swirled and grazed along him. Your fingernails dug into his thighs, eager to do all you can for him.
And dear god, you were.
Sanji was losing himself. Pleasure was filling his veins, and blood rushed in his ears. He was becoming wildly desperate for his release. His hips bucked once, unconsciously chasing his high.
You groaned, feeling his tip kiss the back of your throat.
Sanji flinched, and froze in place. Has he hurt you? He grunted, forcing himself to stay still and enjoy it.
You pulled away with a pop.
Sanji nearly whined.
“Don’t hold back,” you said, a little breathless. “I don’t mind if you move your hips.”
‘You can fuck my face,’ you almost said. However, you tried your best to be a little tame.
Sanji’s heart nearly bursted. He nodded, humming in response.
“Good.” You kissed his tip, and Sanji almost fell backwards into the sea. “Because if anything was wrong, I would tell you. Now, enjoy yourself.”
Your lips wrapped around his cock. Your head bobbed up and down again. Sanji bucked his hips again. You hummed, encouraging him.
“Oh, fuck,” he groaned. He was panting heavily. His head fell forward, watching you. Your lips covered in spit, wrapped so perfectly around him. It was a sight he never thought would happen. Your eyes locked with his. His hair clung to his forehead. His eyes had pooled into the sinful black, and sweat glistened along his skin.
He hasn’t looked more beautiful until now.
You hummed. He hissed then moaned softly. His lovely lips were now an incoherent mess.
He gasped, “Love, I - I -“
He choked on his words. He couldn’t form a thought, let alone a full sentence.
But, you understood. His cock twitched in your mouth. He was close. You wanted to whisper to him, to whispering loving praises in his ear. ‘Come for me, Sanji’, or ‘you’re doing so good’ but perhaps another time.
He moaned, and leaned heavily back into the railing. He could barely keep himself upright anymore. He rocked his hips, matching your pace. He tugged on your hair, drawing you closer. Your nose brushed against his abdomen with each thrust. You relaxed your jaw, allowing him to use you.
You moaned, loudly.
This was all so hot.
His head fell back, mumbling your name over and over. This was heavenly. You were heavenly. This was better than he dreamt over, far better knowing you were the one doing such things.
God, he was already imagining other things. He wanted fuck you, he wanted to make love with you, he wanted to have you on the counter, he wanted to see you riding him, he wanted to try it all. He wanted to do it all with you.
“Please,” he whimpered. He wanted this to last forever, but the pleasure was too much. “Can - can I come in your mouth?”
You moaned a ‘yes’.
That was all he needed.
He came down your throat, moaning out your name. You hummed, taking it all. Sanji glanced down at you with heavy eyes. He panted loudly, gulping down air. Ever so slowly, he released his intense grip on your hair. His legs shook slightly reeling from all of this.
Peering up at him, you pulled away then opened your mouth. His cum sat on your tongue. He whimpered faintly, utterly spent and in awe. You gladly swallowed it with a devious smirk.
His reaction was priceless.
You pulled up his boxers and pants. Standing up, you patted his chest, feeling his chaotic heart race under your fingertips. A swell of pride surged through you. You opened your mouth to ask if he liked it, when he swiftly grabbed your face kissing you.
Your eyes widened, but instantly fell into him.
His tongue slipped past your lips, drawing out your wondrous sinful sounds and desires. He could taste himself on your tongue. He groaned.
Fuck, he thought.
He pushed off the railing, flipping you around. Your lower back dug into the wood, but you didn’t mind. Your hands wandered up his chest into his hair. Your fingers tangled into the blonde locks, tugging on them softly. He moaned against your lips. He nipped on your bottom lip, loving your small gasps.
“Please,” he murmured against your lips. “Please, I want to return the favor.”
His hands skimmed down your sides, gripping your hips. He drew you close to him. You grinded softly against him. A small, sweet moan fell off your lips.
Sanji was greedy for more.
You had only given him a tasting, he now wanted the meal.
“I … I want to … please,” he begged again.
He was already sinking down to his knees. His fingers dug into your thighs, bunching up your sweatpants. Your heart pounded in your chest as you bit your lip. Just as he thought earlier, why would you say no? Even if he was inexperienced, you didn’t care.
“Okay, okay,” you mumbled, shakily.
His eyes twinkled with glee, like a kid in a candy store. You hastily kicked off your sweatpants, and about to remove your underwear -
“Let me.”
Sanji’s hands stopped yours. You froze then nodded, letting go. You wanted him to try and take charge, to see what he would do.
Sanji hummed. He slowly pulled down your underwear. He was entranced. His fingers delicately traced down your thighs and legs being as gentle as possible. As he brought them down, you stepped out of them. Sanji placed them with your sweatpants. Glancing back, he groaned at the sight of your glistening cunt.
“Sweetheart,” he murmured, licking his lips.
His breath on your dripping folds made you shiver. You were immensely turned on by all of this. But, it was the hunger in his eyes that made you weak. Such hunger and want. He wanted to please you in any capacity, he wanted to be good for you.
Holy shit.
“Sanji,” you breathed out. “Can - can I -“
“Do whatever you need to, love.”
“I just want to -“ you carefully hooked one of your legs over his shoulder. You leaned backwards using the railing and Sanji for support.
He firmly grabbed your thigh, thrilled by this. He turned his head, kissing all over your thigh. Up and down, up and down, until he trail led back to where you needed him. You shivered, tipping your head back.
“Sanji,” you sighed.
“What do you need? Tell me what to do,” he purred, buzzing with excitement.
“Your tongue, your tongue, I -“
His tongue quickly swept through your folds. You groaned. His mouth latched itself onto you, swirling around. His tongue was like utter magic. You supposed you should have known from the kiss. Sanji knew how to work his tongue, he had experience in that field. All he needed was a little guidance and encouragement elsewhere.
“Higher,” you gasped. “Go higher.”
His mouth moved. His lips wrapped around your clit and you whined.
“Right there, fuck,” you hissed.
Sanji hummed.
For a brief moment, you saw stars. He sucked on your clit, feeling your thigh twitch. Sanji groaned at the thought of both of your thighs wrapped around his head.
Another time, he swore to himself.
His tongue slowly swirled around again, lapping up your juices. His movements were hesitant, yet with each of your sighs and praises he grew more and more confident. Every sound was music to his ears. Sanji pulled away. He stared up at you breathless. His chin coated in your juices. He wanted to savor this moment.
Savor you.
“Sweetheart,” he mumbled. Your eyes dropped down to him. He smiled softly with such a boyish charm. “You are absolutely stunning.”
You laughed once, shaking your head. It seemed he had his silver tongue back. Sanji dived back in. His tongue parted your folds, curling around, and pushing inside of you. You moaned. Your fingers tangled into his hair.
“Fuck, Sanji,” you hummed.
Your foul mouth only encouraged him.
With his hand still on your thigh, he tugged you forward. His nose brushed against your clit. You gasped. Pleasure shot through you. You whimpered as your hips unconsciously bucked forward again.
More. You wanted more.
Your heel dug into his back, and you yanked on his hair. Sanji moaned, sending sweet loving vibrations throughout you. “Keeping going, Sanji, just like that.”
Sanji listened perfectly. He devoured you.
Fuck, he’s a natural.
Just with your gentle guidance, and your soft moans, Sanji had quickly learned your body. His tongue swept against your folds again and again. You moaned, almost pornographically. You rode his face, bucking your hips against his wondrous tongue.
You were panting as your pleasure built and built. “Fuck, Sanji, I’m about to come.”
He whined, “Oh, please, sweetheart.”
His fingers dug into your thigh. His lips wrapped around your clit, hearing your sweet sharp inhales. All your weight fell into the railing. You gasped, chanting Sanji’s name over and over. Your eyes squeezed shut, and finally let go, let pleasure consume you. You cried out his name. Sanji moaned as you came all over him. He greedily lapped up everything, not daring to waste a single drop.
He carefully pulled away, and your leg slid off his shoulder. He stood up, and cupped your face. He kissed you passionately once more. His expert tongue slid inside, making you taste him and yourself.
“Fuck,” you mumbled into the kiss.
Your knees were weak. You clung to his arms, humming into the kiss. Sanji slowly broke the kiss, enjoying your soft whines of protests. Both of you were panting, filling up the quiet still night.
Sanji chuckled once. “So? How did I do, sweetheart? Tired yet?”
You may have created a monster.
You blinked, then shook your head. You smirked, “Oh, I’m not done with you yet, unless you’re tired.”
He wrapped an arm around you. “Oh, sweetheart, I can keep going.”
I want to keep going, I want to have it all, he thought. Besides, what meal isn’t better without some dessert?
2K notes · View notes
worldsover · 3 months
Text
The Strongest Man Alive
~4k words, oral, gentle dom!Irene
Tumblr media Tumblr media
The moon—a weak thing—casts a soft glow through your curtains, illuminating the tangled sheets and two figures and eight limbs entwined. Bae Joohyun. Yours. And yours, she tastes of soju. You push away the curtains of her dark brown hair. You must do better than the moon if you want to see her face.
You don't want to see her face. How weak. Want can't be enough. Want is the moon whose light could never push.
Of course, it's need, this need above gravity—you will fly under your own power to see her gentle eyes shaped like almonds, the scrunch of her petite nose, or the tinge of pink on her cheeks. Such a tinge, you've pulled into her milky skin with each kiss.
Of course, it's need: if you could draw something so symmetrical as the oval of her face, you would be putting your work in galleries. Instead, you find yourself here, marveling at the slope of her jaw. At the slope of her jaw, your lips dance, taste one bead of sweat. Then, you're latched to her neck, making her moan.
Her body yearns against yours. Arms around your neck, your stomachs press together like puzzle pieces (more like magnets: two separate things now one). Her legs, those endless legs, lace around your hips as if they've been there your whole life. They've been there for twenty-six days, if you were to start counting from when you first asked her out. They've been there for five years, if you were to start counting from when you first met her as a friend of a friend. They'll be there forever, because why would you bother counting down when you could count up.
But you couldn't count up how you got here. The nights you shared in your bed or Joohyun's bed were innocent, simple: movies, warm kisses, cuddles. You had expected even slower than that. The lurid moans or the hands on your ass weren't part of the plan. There never could have been a plan. You didn't understand how fate penciled in you and Joohyun as a couple. The woman eight years your senior, aloof and intimidating and introverted. You'd overwhelm her with energy. She'd scare you with an icy glare.
This isn't Joohyun.
Love and care as a person is closer to your real Joohyun. As you aspire to redden and purple her sensitive neck with your lips, her gaze into you is as a stronger light, the morning sun, whose warmth is true and full. The air too, whatever is left between your bodies, crackles with heat, making sleep and a timeful waking for work both distant dreams. Your hand runs down the back of her neck, over thin layers of sweat on her skin, before slipping under her shirt to explore further.
Asymmetries and imbalance—you're understanding these are inescapable parts of you and Joohyun, the longer you count the time together. She's the leader. You're the follower. She might be examining your gluteus maximus like a butcher inspecting meat, pulling you by the chin to kiss your lips again, but you have to ask her: "Do you mind if I touch you lower?" See, gravity is the moon is weak is if as if gravity is not Joohyun's, and in her orbit you float and careful to stay, you seek permission even when you don't need it.
Float higher. Joohyun giggles. It's an often sound, not often enough. "Of course, handsome." That's Joohyun's voice playful and light and airy as a cloud; this is Joohyun dark and dangerous and knife in hand—"Touch me wherever you like."
Because if she says it like that, like she's honestly out to kill you, honestly out to stab you in the heart and in the brain and in the nerves until she's carved out everything that isn't just primal reaction and until something gets cold and hardens and presses against her midriff—and when she does it again, "Go ahead, touch me," and she grabs your wrist and makes you place your hand on her asscheeks—then how are you supposed to react when she says:
"How do you feel about… letting me suck your dick?" Lip bite and all?
This isn't Joohyun. It really isn't Joohyun. Not those eyes, not this soon. Not the woman who dressed modestly, who kept her distance from other men, who fiercely protected her female friends. Your Joohyun would ask for patience. And you were content with your Joohyun. But then, your Joohyun was an image, based on an external shell of a woman, and you can't imagine the real, soft, fleshy bits exposed more than Joohyun right now. And this Joohyun, were you less or more content with this one? Man, take the blowjob—you, an idiot, instead ask, "Now? Suck? T-tonight?"
"Yes, honey," she replies, but her voice is not so sweet. It refuses to let up, to let go of the boning knife; it stays deep, twisting your stomach. "I didn't ask for tomorrow."
Nothing more that you want, but unable to answer, you kiss her again with newfound urgency. Your fingers sink into her ass, and you taste her moan on your tongue. A breathless noise, a hint of a cloud, as if this might tip the balance or untwist the blade. And then a mote of a daring idea in your mind blossoms to sudden action without thinking. "Only if you beg for my dick," you say, with a seriousness that keeps your mouth open. You were not the weakness and the unweight of a pithy satellite.
Joohyun raises a brow. It's over. It's all over. Goodness. You had one chance with the prettiest woman, and now what? But then she grins wide. "Oh, look at you. How bold." This is a smaller knife, used to pare the skin off of fruits, and the pride off of men, so you pout and she pets your head, and you feel better and you feel smaller. "No, I'm kidding, baby. That was really hot. Do it again."
You look down. You are the weakness and…
"I'm sorry, I swear, you did great. I would gladly beg for your cock any day." Joohyun sits up against your hardwood headboard, looks at you through her long, fluttering lashes. "Please? Pwease? Pretty pleeease, can I suck your cock?"
This isn't Joohyun. And this isn't a paring knife, nor a boning knife, nor a playful cloud of words. This is a spoon that eats ice cweam. She pushes her chest together, tempting with cleavage peeking out of her bra top.
In response, you let out a soft whimper.
"Aww, does that mean yes?" she asks.
"Mhm," you say, a shy nod in addition.
"That's my man," she says. That must be the natural truth already. Joohyun said so.
As you sit up to copy her, she pushes you back down using a gentle hand on your chest.
"Just relax and let me take care of you, baby. Be a good boy and trust me." This knife… it cuts your sandwiches in a diagonal, and you think maybe this time, there is a hint of honey in her voice. She coos as she slides between your legs and tugs down your pants with her teeth. When your ankles are free of the pants, Joohyun returns her head by your thighs, and says with a sigh, "Ahh, it's like unwrapping a present. Look at that pretty bulge of yours."
You understand this as a rhetorical command, but still, you look, because by that pretty bulge rests Joohyun's face, and you shudder at its proximity. And while the knife metaphor is over, the mouth literal is more evocative than ever. She trails fingers down your chest and stomach while lips linger on your underwear. When she laps at your bulge, even if she only uses the very tip of her tongue, saliva's wetness seeps through the fabric. Even if the tip of her tongue is scalpel-precise in tracing your cock's outline, your own pre-cum must be seeping too. Her every motion is subtle but effective; you're already mewling loudly, already writhing beneath her.
"Looks like someone is excited." Joohyun uses her teeth again, now fully freeing your arousal from its confines. Your cock springs out and nearly hits her face, and she lets out a delighted squeal and takes control of the unruly actor with her small fingers. "I'm excited too. Gosh, it's so cute how hard you are."
As you lay there, breathless and trembling with desire, Joohyun gazes with adoration and palms along your hardened length. "Please," you say like you don't know what you're asking for.
Contented, Joohyun purrs, grazes her nails on your shaft, traces sinuous patterns down your pulsing vein. "You're so precious," she whispers. Then, stricter (more knife): "But I don't hear enough begging yet."
You're pathetic, weightless, suspended on four strings for each of your four limbs and Joohyun is your puppetmaster and Joohyun is your everything so with your everything, you say, "Please, I need it so bad. Need to feel your mouth on me, n-now. I'm a good boy, please, I'll be good for you, I'll do anything for it. You said you'd take care of me, p-please, I need you to…"
Joohyun places a finger on your lips, and you gulp.
"Aww," she responds with a soft chuckle, soft kisses traveling up your length. "Anything? Hmm…" With each deliberate swipe of her tongue, especially as it crosses the ridge to your cockhead, the most concentrated bundle of nerves, unexpected sounds escape from deep within your throat. Nothing, it seems, is ever in the plans, but especially not the low, throaty, bubbly noses, or the high whiny pitches you make. As her lips ghost over the tip of your cock, you want to grab her hair, to command her to suck—no, you don't.
This isn't you.
If Joohyun expects you to wait, whether it's the next few seconds or until the next moon phase, you will wait.
So you wait.
Now the warmth of her breath is like the warmth of her skin is like the quiet warmth of a distant star, only felt in the deepest calm of the night.
Her dark eyes pierce you with their gaze, dark as to match the inky blacks that surround such a faraway body.
Outside, the wind hums low, like it too is aware of the moment between you and Bae Joohyun. But no one, not even nature, can understand truly.
It's all so hot, so bright, so loud.
After a moment too long and not a moment too soon, Joohyun closes her mouth over your cockhead. It's slow, so slow, like she's tasting this inch and considering the merits of its flavor, then she's savoring the next inch, where she compares and contrasts its mouthfeel. Embarrassingly loud, you groan as she takes more of you in, creating a vacuum seal with her lips. And as if the wet sounds aren't enough, she hums around you, sending vibrations that might start at your cock but cascade through your body. Every now and then, her tongue darts out to flirt around your frenulum while her equally adept hands twist your shaft and fondle your ballsack.
Suddenly, her sucking becomes fast and urgent like a storm rolling in on a sunny day. Her eyes narrow in concentration, a look you've only seen during arcade dates or board game nights—she's trying to win something, and the prize lies in your balls.
You shut your eyelids like you don't want tears to escape, clench your thighs like you want her to lose for once. "Fuck, wait," you grit out through your teeth, "wait, wait, I'm gonna cum if you keep going like this."
Joohyun hesitates for a moment, as though her blowjob is a runaway train. But then she composes herself and pulls away from your cock with a playful smack of her lips. "Aww? Already?" she asks, and you're unsure if she's teasing as usual or in genuine dismay. "Thank for letting me know, sweetheart. I'll slow down."
She adjusts her pace: her lips linger on the base of your shaft, waning crescent, or your sensitive cockhead, waxing gibbous, and her hand has settled on a firm grip of your testicles—and none of that bodes well for your endurance. Joohyun knows exactly what she's doing to you; whenever she makes eye contact, the corner of her lips tugs into a sly smile.
"Think you can handle more?" she asks, low and husky. "I don't wanna push you too far."
She might—she will. Nevertheless, even more unbearable is the mere thought of the lack of her warm and wet ministrations on your member. "Please, keep going. It's okay."
"Promise?" She sticks out her pinky finger. You interlock your finger with hers. Though her hand is small and delicate compared to yours, the weight of the deal is not so. You've just signed a pact with the devil, but all your blood has already rushed to your cock so there's no way you had enough ink. It seems hell's denizens have no respect for legal authority: Joohyun's mouth rushes back to a vigorous rhythm along your shaft, this time allowing more foamy spit to escape the sides of her mouth. Like a sloppy drunk, she talks with a mouth full of you. "I want you to enjoy thih... but I also wanna be a little selfish and worship your cock, pwopehly—" she coughs. "And I can't do that if my precious man cums too early. So I need you to be brave and strong. You'ww be bwave, wight?"
You mouth "I'll be fine" and you've just lied to Joohyun. You wouldn't be surprised if you suddenly filled her mouth with your load, though you'd feel guilt at the lack of forewarning. You find yourself growing louder and more desperate with each pass of her lips.
"That's it, moan as much as you want, babe. I love hearing you."
"Nngh, fuck, you make me feel so good," you say, groaning, grunting, panting.
Her eyes shine with admiration, with honesty: she truly loves every sound she extracts from you. "Well, you make me feel more than just good. I think I'm in love with sucking your cock. No, I know I am. The way it pulses in my mouth, mmm, fuck... it makes me dripping wet." She licks her lips. "I wanna give you all the pleasure in the world. You deserve it."
To prove her point, Joohyun takes a break from your dick and focuses on your testicles instead. She engulfs them one by one, sucking and licking like they are the ripest, juiciest fruit; you must be incredibly delicious because her teeth graze and tug carefully at the loose skin, making you feel heavy and lightheaded simultaneously. Despite your length resting heavily against her forehead and nose and the mess of saliva across her face, Joohyun remains the epitome of beauty.
"No one else gets to see me like this, my love," she says, winking—usually, that'd be deliberate, but you wager it's the sticky saliva and pre-cum dripping from your cock onto her face. Despite the debauchery of the moment, she still manages to look adorable with one eye closed and the other half-open as if she's trying to perfect her winking technique.
Your hands instinctively tangle in her hair, unable to restrain yourself any longer as the intensity increases, both balls in her mouth.
"Close again?" she asks, releasing you from the confines of her mouth with only her fingers remaining on clean-up duty: first, she takes care of the frothy mess on her face and untangles wet strands of hair; then, she collects the sheen on your cock before licking each digit clean. She crawls up the bed, her petite form hovering above you until her face is right next to yours again. You could have never signed a deal with the devil because this is an angel. The angel presses her lips to yours, a tantalizing and bittersweet combination of her saliva mixed with your own juices.
"Does that feel better, babe? I know how much you love to taste my lips."
"Mmm, I do, thank you." Even more than that, however, the kiss is a welcome reprieve from the constant barrage of ecstasy at your genitals. Like earlier tonight, your hands roam over her body. However, now you don't just stop at her smooth curves and pert behind. Your fingers trail lower, finding their way to the warm, wet space between her thighs. As you trace her slick slit, she moans into your mouth, and you realize she wasn't lying. Her cunt is soaked. You're jealous of how much pleasure she can derive from giving pleasure. There is little resistance for your digits to glide inside, a knuckle deep, then two. In a frenzy, her hands roam as well, exploring your every dip and muscle, save for your throbbing erection and twitching balls. Again, you welcome her prudence, though you pay her in kind with a fingerfucking that accelerates.
"Mhm, yes, that's it, touch me like that." Joohyun's gasps interweave each kiss. "You're amazing, such a good, good boy. I'll make you cum such a big load in my mouth soon, I promise."
The thought of it inspires you: you bring your fingers to your lips and taste the remnants of her pleasure, salty and tangy and addicting. She watches you with a mixture of amusement and desire, her cheeks flushed.
"Is it really that good?" she asks, her voice betraying her usual confidence or playfulness as she breathes heavily.
"The yummiest," you reply with a lustful grin, already planning to tongue-map every inch of her cunt later. For now, your focus is fixed on the pleasure Joohyun can bring you elsewhere on your body. Your mind races as her rosy lips part in happiness and glisten like freshly picked strawberries. To say your dick is throbbing is an insult to throbbing; it's a bundle of fireworks ready to set off at any time. "Can... can you suck me again?"
"You sure?" Joohyun asks with a gentle stroke of your cheek, a slight pout, raised brows. There's genuine concern in her tone, however mild, but it quickly falls back to cheeky. "Maybe I should just keep kissing you again." Her pillowy lips press against yours, your jaw, your cheek. Sucks on your neck. Nibbles on your ear. Isn't enough.
You plead, your voice raw and exposed, "No, I need it. Need your mouth on my cock again. Need to cum."
Joohyun's eyes light up with mischief and she leans in close, her sweet breath caressing your face as she purrs, "You're so fun to play with. And it's adorable how much you want this."
Suddenly, her demeanor shifts and she becomes stern once more. "Say 'please' if you need it that bad," she demands.
You comply forthwith, the word slipping from your mouth like a sigh.
Before any of your reactions can inform your brain, Joohyun's lips and tongue envelop your aching cock. Then all the information comes all at once. Light as the fastest hits first as your eyes capture the determination in hers, the way her brows furrow in concentration, how her hair flies about in the sudden action. Then comes the heat, as your length disappears into the depths of her mouth, and the sound of glucks and other carnal oral noises reach your ears last.
Your replies have devolved into incoherent babbling by now; the only word you can repeat is the one she's made you say, and as much as you echo "please", she swallows your dick at just the right pace—just the wrong pace. Fast enough to make you whip your head back, slow enough to leave you on the brink of climax.
"Keep begging all you want, you're not cumming until I've had my fun. You want to explode into my mouth, don't you?" she taunts—look at the stripe Joohyun makes with her tongue. Is she cleaning the saliva on your shaft or covering it further is a question that's repeated ten times for the ten licks between the hundred dips of her mouth. "You want to pound that perfect cock into my throat and coat it with your load?" Wow, it's like she's in your head. Incredible. "Okay. Yeah. I can do that." And with a deep swallow, your head's in her as she takes you all the way down, and holds down, long enough for a single tear to swell in her eye.
Joohyun's nose jams against your stomach, and her eyes twitch—it's the wink again, or so you'd think if you didn't feel your tip jab the back of her throat. A bubble of thick saliva becomes bubbles as determined as she is to ignore her own need to breathe. With every clench of her throat around you, sparks course your nerves, or maybe it's not just the pressure, but the sight of the distension at her neck. Either way, you're unsure how lightning has yet to strike your rod. Every gag seems calculated, designed to make you squirm, and she has an uncanny ability to recognize the approach of your climax. As though through the pulse of your cock vein, she knows when to pull back just when your hairs start to raise, when the goosebumps form. The buildup of static denied its discharge. You would try to thrust your hips into her, regardless of whether you should or shouldn't but should's or shouldn't's are aren't's when she's holding your thighs down. Joohyun manages to treat your cock like a toy to tease and please herself with, despite her fucking her own face into it.
"You must be trying so hard..."
Joohyun pauses momentarily, breathes out through her nose, before another deep swallow.
"Not to explode..."
One more swallow.
"Into mommy's mouth... right?"
And then it happens. With a primal cry, you release everything you have into Joohyun's waiting mouth, her eyes widening in surprise before she eagerly swallows every last drop. Your body trembles with pleasure as she continues to suck you clean, your mind blissfully numb. Even after you finish Joohyun continues to suckle gently on your cock, sending aftershocks of hot bliss through your body; however, the overstimulation is a bucket of cold ice that has you gripping the sheets and begging through loud groans: "Please, please, ahhh."
"Please, what?"
You shake your head as your thighs clench and your eyes roll back. You're still pulsating, still unloading onto her tongue as her lips pucker and lock around your dick. "No, t-too much," you say.
"Sensitive? Aww, baby." But there's a glint of mischief in her eye that makes you question her. Before you can protest, she takes you back into her mouth, working her tongue around the underside of your shaft and suctioning with her lips, pushing herself down into your root until she has wrung you out into her stomach.
When she eventually pulls herself off your sore and spent member, Joohyun's mouth stays open. "Wow, I've never done that. I'm so, so sorry... I swear, I'm not some crazy nympho obsessed with your cock or anything."
You're not sure you believe. You are sure you forgive her. As you catch your breath and bask in the afterglow of mind-altering bliss, Joohyun's head weighing on her thigh, you wonder if what's so irresistible about your cum to her—she's still playing with a glob of it in her mouth. When she gulps, she lets out a satisfied sigh.
"Hmm... seems like you really, really liked when I said a certain word. Or at least your dick did," Joohyun suggests, flicking at and toying with your softness, making you jump.
As her eyes captivate yours, she poses a question that rocks your world.
"Would you like me to be your mommy—" "Yes."
1K notes · View notes
It’s Been a Long, Long Time ❥
Pairing: Pre!Outbreak Joel Miller x Fem!Reader 
Summary: You’re the school nurse at Sarah’s middle school and you’re volunteered to chaperone the school dance alongside her father, Joel Miller. After some other teachers upset you there, he makes a point of showing you how he feels while also teaching those assholes a lesson. 
A/N: okay so i know i just wrote one but you guys were so sweet in the notes :) *sobbing* and im obsessed with him so another Joel Miller fic for you, this one’s more fluffy tho here’s a sweet, smutty one, inspired by that one scene in “The Lost Husband” YALL KNOW WHAT IM TALKING ABOUT, enjoy and feedback as always is appreciated >~< i cant stop writing him PREPARED TO BE SICK O’ ME
Word Count: 4k
Warnings: SMUT 18+, fluff, cheesy, just absolute fuckin fluff, mentions of death, months pre-outbreak, language, reader is insulted, slight angst, mentions of alcohol, slight age gap, reader has panic attack, public making out, jealous!reader, Joel loves his pet names, he talks you through it, oral f! receiving, p in v, praise, unprotected sex, y’all it’s a lot 
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You sip on your mug full of sugary coffee and rub your temple, tired from a night of little sleep. That’s when Sarah Miller, your favorite student, patient, and professional instigator, strides through your office doors with a big smile on her face. 
You open up your snack drawer with an affectionate roll of your eyes, grab a pack of skittles, and throw it her way. 
She catches it mid-air and sits down on the bed by your door, kicking her feet while she pops only the red ones into her mouth. 
“You’re gonna get me in trouble one of these days, hun,” you breathe a laugh. 
“Don’t worry,” she sighs, still grinning. “I’m on my lunch break and I finished it fast so I could come see you.”
You smile softly behind the rim of your mug, “Well, I’m glad to see you. What is it that you’re smiling so much about?”
“Awe,” she points to your mug. “You’re using the mug I got you.”
You look at the front of the mug, the words, “World’s Greatest Grandma”, on the front of if it with the word Grandma scratched out with a wash-proof marker and replaced with “Nurse”. She claimed she couldn’t find one that said what she wanted so she had to get creative. It makes you laugh every time you pick it up. 
“It’s my most prized possession,” you nod, matching her expression. “Now answer my question.”
She leans forward, having finished off all the red skittles, and hands it back to you so you can eat the rest. 
She says it in one, hyperactive breath, “I got my dad to volunteer at the school dance!”
You choke a bit on your coffee.
Setting down the bag of skittles and your mug, you look up at her and chuckling, “Why would you want to do that? Don’t most kids want their parents far away from their homecoming?”
She shakes her head like you’re not getting what she’s saying, exasperated, “I invited him for you, Nurse y/n.”
“I- Why would you-” you let out a nervous laugh before pulling yourself together. “Sarah. Why would you invite him for me, sweetheart?”
“Because you like him,” she props her head up against the wall behind her, a sly little smirk on her lips. She crosses her legs. “Obviously.”
You sip your coffee, a small scoff leaving you, “I don’t have a crush on your father, Ms. Miller. Since when do you play matchmaker, huh?”
“Since he asks about you like all the time,” she groans. “I told him that you’re coming and he basically dropped everything to come.”
Heat blooms in your face but you clear your throat and feign nonchalance despite it. It would be incredibly unprofessional for you to have a juvenile, little crush on a student’s father. Even if he is incredibly handsome, sweet, charming, funny, and a wonderful, single father to his little girl who you also have a soft spot for. 
But you do and you’re convinced it’s a bit bigger than a little one. You don’t act on it though because you’ve kidded yourself into thinking it would go away, wither from neglect like a dying plant with no sun. However, that hasn’t worked out very well so far. 
Sarah doesn’t miss the flush in cheeks and the small smile you dawn before maintaining your composure once again. She decides to hold onto this information instead of call you out because she’s nothing if not devious. She’s very observant for a 14 year old, you’re sure she gets it from her sharp father. 
He doesn’t let anything get past him, like hair in your face that he pushes away for you, a fallen eyelash on your cheek, your shoelace undone, your ponytail getting loose and about to fall out, and whatever else. It’s been almost an entire school year of this, going on field trips, meetings, him picking Sarah up from school when she’s sick (whether she fakes it or not), and around your shared neighborhood because even if it was big in Austin, Texas, he made it feel so damn small. 
And now Sarah says this and you can’t contain your excitement. But also your nerves were shot, you haven’t felt this way about someone in a long time. It scares the hell out of you.
“I’m not volunteering,” you laugh. “Why’d you lie to him?”
“Because I’m going to convince you to come,” she raises her eyebrows. “Please, please, please, please!” she clasps her hands together. “I’ll buy you all the skittles you want, I’ll take the red ones out of all of them for you, too!”
“What if I’m busy?”
“I know you’re not.”
You gasp, “Rude, Sarah! I should write you up for that,” you tease. 
She smiles, “Come on, you can come and wear a pretty dress, drink punch, and eat free food. What’s not to like?”
“The bitchy moms and other teachers, for one thing-” you put a hand over your mouth. “I’m so sorry, Sarah. I shouldn’t have said that,” you chuckle, embarrassed, with your face in your hands.
She waves you off, “My father cusses like a sailor and I won’t tell. I don’t like anyone that works here besides you, anyway.”
“Well, now I feel like I have to,” you relent with a sigh, mulling it over. She was right in that you didn’t have anything to do, so what was the risk here?  
She looks at you expectantly, mustering up puppy dog eyes to persuade you. 
“If I go... no teasing me and your dad. He and I are just good friends,” you say, which is at least half true. “We enjoy each other’s company, nothing more.”
“Uh-huh,” she says in a sing-song, knowing voice, fingers crossed behind her back. “Sure, Nurse y/n. I promise.”
“I’m serious,” you point at her, taking the last sip of your coffee just as the class bell rings. “Now get out of here and go to math.”
She groans in protest but hops down from the table anyway and fakes being dizzy, “What if I have a fever?” She coughs. 
“Then walk it off,” you chuckle, knowing she’s lying. “See you tonight, Sarah.”
She grins widely, waving, running out, “Bye! Dad and Nurse Y/n sitting in a tree-”
“Sarah!”
~~~
Walking into the schools’ gymnasium, you’re almost shaking with nerves when you walk in. You feel like a teenager again, anxious and waiting for someone to ask you to dance. 
You slipped on a black slip dress with white trim at the ends and the sweetheart neckline, it hugs your body nicely and accentuates curves, dips, and makes your skin glow with a red sweater that hits at your waist and matches your red, strappy heels. Your hair is pulled back with barrettes to show off your makeup and fresh curls. 
The dance has already started thirty minutes ago, so everyone’s already dancing and having fun to the child-friendly music that the DJ spins for the room. You pick up a red solo cup filled with crappy fruit punch and spot Sarah in the crowd with a few of her friends. 
She waves enthusiastically in your direction before running over to you and hugging your side. “You look so pretty, Nurse Y/n!”
“Thank you, sweetheart. So do you!” you hug her back, trying the punch and wincing at the off-taste. “Tonight, you can just call me Y/n, if you want.”
She smiles, glowing at your arrival, “My dad’s over there talking to another parent. I’ll go tell him you’re here.”
You look up when she says this and meet his eyes from across the room, which means he was already looking. Joel Miller cracks a lopsided smile at you, excuses himself from his conversation with a pestering mom, and crosses the room to the two of you. 
He’s wearing a red flannel shirt, rolled up on his burly forearms, tucked into a pair of dark jeans with a black belt holding the pants up. His hair is slightly wet from a shower, you presume, and he smells of aftershave and smoke and cedar wood. He looks so good, standing in front of you with those all-encompassing brown eyes, you think you might cry. 
Those said eyes fall over you, and admire your dress, your hair, your everything. He looks down at his daughter, watching you both with avid attention. 
“Don’t you have friends to get back to, chick?” he cocks an eyebrow down at his scheming daughter. 
She rolls her eyes, smoothing out her blue dress. Her hair is braided into a bun at the back of her head, matching teal flowers pinned in her curls. “Okay, dad. Have fun!”
She races back to her group of friends and leaves you and Joel alone, two awkward adults who feel like kids again.
“You did her hair tonight?” you smile softly, gushing a bit now. “It looks so nice.”
He flushes and scratches the back of his neck, “Thank you. I tried my best, she did most of it. I just wanted tonight to be perfect for her. She forced me to come, though.”
“She got me, too,” you tilt your head, biting back a grin. “She should be a lawyer when she grows up, this kid.”
He looks out at her dancing with her friends and smiles fondly, “She would be great.” His eyes fall back down to you, “You look beautiful... by the way.”
You beam, “Thank you. You clean up pretty well yourself, too, Joel.”
A blush spreads across his nose and cheeks, “Thanks. I was worried it was too simple and that I should have worn a suit... I didn’t know if it was nice enough to-”
You place your hand on his arm to stop his rambling, “You look great. Seriously. Don’t worry, all the moms and teachers will still drool over you.”
He pinches his brow when he stares down at you. You get the sudden urge to smooth out the small wrinkle between his eyebrows, ease his tensions. 
“Really?” he pins you down with his stare, but his dark eyes are glittering with amusement. “You’re way off base, sweetheart, I promise you. None of them think of me like that.”
You ignore the heat blooming in your chest at the nickname, he used it often but it never failed to make your brain short-circuit, “They all talk about you.”
He raises his eyebrows, “You’re joking.”
Jealousy swirls in your belly at the thought of these women and the things you’ve heard around school, but you pull it together with a quick tilt of your head, “I’m not laughing, am I?”
He notices your jaw clench a bit and how you gulped before speaking, logging the observations for later, “How do you notice?”
“How do you not!” you say, moving to his side and unintentionally brushing your arm against his. He shivers. “It’s obvious. It’s hard not to.”
His eyes linger on your lips before glancing back up your eyes, “Maybe I’ve been distracted.”
You grow flustered under his gaze and look ahead, stammering, “Yeah... maybe. And well... Sarah tells me that they ask her about your life in the pickup line after school. So it’s proving to be borderline obsession,” you laugh.
He smiles softly, seeing past your nerves, “Poor Sarah. She must love that,” he says dryly. 
“Sarah might say some choice words about them,” you shrug your shoulders. “She’s fine, though. I probably shouldn’t have told you, we tend to share secrets,” you look at him, filled with care for his daughter, for him.
“She adores you,” he says sincerely and you can tell by the warmth in his tone that he means it and appreciates it. “You’ve quickly become one of her favorite people within a little over half a school year. Tommy thinks you’re great too, from the few interactions you’ve had when he picks her up sometimes.”
You grin and his chest seizes at the light that exudes from your sweet expression, “Tommy’s a wonderful uncle. Good brother too. He talks about you often.”
“Oh yeah?” he looks at you, his voice sends shivers straight through you. “And what does he say?”
“Can’t betray a friend’s trust,” you shake your head, teasing. 
He discreetly shows you his flask of whiskey, “Not even if I let you drink from my emergency flask?”
“Maybe I’ll tell you one thing,” you hold up a finger and he slips you the flask, cracking a dazzling smile, while you turn around and take a long sip. The DJ transitions the E.D.M to a slow song, something sweet and best to sway to. 
He takes a long sip himself and tucks it away in his pocket again, holding out his hand to you, “Do you want to tell me while we dance, darlin?”
You look around the room, your boss nowhere in sight. There was technically no rule against dating a student’s parent, but you didn’t want the judgement. You knew the people around here talked and there would be rumors, shaming. But he’s looking at you like you’re the only person in the room, putting himself out on a limb just to ask you to dance.
It didn’t have to mean anything anyway, it could just be two friends sharing a dance. You’ve danced with friends. It’s the same thing. Your internal monologue was racing a mile a minute. 
“Are we allowed to? I mean, as chaperones.”
“We’re watching the students more closely.” 
“Yeah, I just...” you pause, pinching your brow.
His face falls slightly. “If you don’t want to, we don’t have to,” he starts to pull his hand away. “It’s really no-”
You put your hand in his, “I’d love to dance with you, Joel.”
Warmth blooms in his handsome face and he pulls you into the crowd of dancing people. Joel pulls you gently towards him, placing his hands on your waist as you wrap your arms up and around his neck. You both try to keep your distance, make a good example for the kids, but it’s growing increasingly harder for him not to hold you close and kiss you right here in front of all these people. 
You catch Sarah giggling excitedly at you both dancing, whispering with her friends. You roll your eyes with a small smile. 
You look up at Joel, resisting the urge to lay your head against his chest, “You still want to know something Tommy said?”
“Desperately,” he laughs. 
“He told me you said I’m pretty.”
Rosy color spreads across his nose, but his eyes are darkened, his lips part slightly, “I should’ve known he’d tell you.”
“So he’s telling the truth?”
His eyes soften, “Of course he is.”
“Well... thank you,” you flush, blood rushing to your face, making Joel smile. You feel like a schoolgirl again. 
He chuckles, eyes searching your face, “You’re welcome.”
You tilt your head, “You’re pretty, too, Joel.”
He spins you as the song picks up a bit and pulls you back to him, your dress spinning as you do. He pulls you back against his chest, hands in against shirt and his around your waist. Warmth radiates from his broad chest, his hands are calloused even through the fabric of your slip dress, and your breath catches in your throat.
He doesn’t pay any mind to the stares he gets for doing it, but he lets his head drop to your shoulder, writing love letters in your skin when he lets out a breath. He says nothing about the compliment but he’s holding you closer, and that’s all he needs to do. A quiet understanding washes over the two of you in that moment. 
Joel’s always been the strong and silent type, but the longer the two of you have known one another, the closer you get, he’s begun to let more things slip. He begins to ramble, his nerves making an appearance when he’s near you, a teenager again. Then there are times like now when his actions do all the talking for him and neither of you need to comment on it. 
Then there are others when he won’t shut the fuck up. 
“People are looking,” you whisper. 
“Do you want me to stop?”
“...No.”
“Then why do you care what they think?”
There’s a beat of silence before you sigh out the three words, “I don’t know.”
“We’re not Patrick Swayze and Jennifer Grey over here, the kids will be fine,” he teases. Then he lifts his head to bring your joined hands up to his side, moving you to the changed song with the more upbeat tempo. 
You snort, “Wouldn’t that be something.”
“If we were somewhere else...” he muses, looking at you to gauge your reaction.
You meet his eyes, your own crinkling with amusement, “You’d do the lift?”
He throws his head back with a thunderous laugh, “I’d try for you.”
“Think I’m too heavy?”
“God, no,” he spins the two of you, dodging a pair of kids dancing. “I’m just old.”
“You’re like 35, Joel.”
“You’re only 27, you don’t get it yet,” he whispers into the side of your hair and you laugh, not even bothering to glance in the direction of the judgmental moms and teachers. 
Joel Miller had a talent of making you feel like the only person in the room. 
The song ends and you feel out of breath just from being this close to him. You step away from him and smile softly, “I gotta run to the restroom. I’ll be back.”
His eyes sweep over you, then he nods, “Okay.”
“What?” you grin. “No dad joke about not falling in?”
“I’m classy Joel tonight,” he chuckles. “No bathroom jokes.”
You shake your head with a laugh as you walk back towards the restrooms. Stepping inside, you move to stand in front of the mirror and grab your lipstick from your bag, fixing up your makeup. You try to calm your nerves, hands shaking when you bring the golden tube to your lips. 
After taking a deep breath, your mind begins to wander about how his hands felt on your skin and how he thinks you’re pretty. The thoughts fill your head and litter your skin with goosebumps. 
You don’t usually like being the center of attention, but with Joel around you, it was hard not to be. And you couldn’t say you minded it. 
A few other women walk through the door and you recognize them to be Bethany, Sarah’s rude math teacher, Cara, a mom who gives you trouble constantly, and Kristina, another mom who thinks Joel is hot and constantly asks Sarah questions about him. 
“Hey, y/n!” Bethany draws out in a sing-song, forced way that sends a chill through your body. “Saw you out dancing with Mr. Miller. Ain’t y’all cute?”
You look at her blankly in your reflection and she clears her throat. 
“Adorable,” Cara’s shark eyes roam you over in the mirror, making you feel small as you fix your foundation. You don’t let it show though, you weren’t going to give them the satisfaction.
“Such a shame about Joel’s wife,” Kristina hums, putting on her own bright pink lipstick. “Wonder if he’s still looking for a stepmom for sweet little Sarah.” 
The three of them laugh together and you feel your blood pressure quickly rise. Three wild vultures circling a carcass, kicking it while it’s down. 
“Can we not tonight, ladies?” you turn around to look at them. “Let’s just forget this and have fun.”
“What do you mean, dear? This is fun,” Bethany blinks her stark, blue eyes, red lips curling. “This must be a lot for her though, girls. She’s probably having a rough time considering what happened to her.”
You freeze.
“Oh yeah...” Cara finishes her makeup and frowns at you. “I remember hearing your fiancee passed away before you came here, how sad.”
Your blood runs cold, sirens going off in your head, and a pounding begins in your skull. No one’s brought up Rick since you’ve gotten here, you’ve dodged the questions from the nosy parents, the gossiping neighbors, and the rude coworkers. You don’t know how they figured it out, and now you feel it, being back in the car with Rick the night that it happened. 
Joel and Sarah didn’t even know, you had pushed it to the back of your mind so you would never find it again. Now it’s coming back like a wave, full force, and pulling you under the current until you’re drowning. 
“Then you moved here to Austin in July,” Kristina slits her eyes at you and cocks her head to the side. “Now you’re trying to get back out there with Joel, huh? Like you’d really have a chance with him.” 
She looks in your direction and it’s as if she sees right through you, past your carefully created facade and into your core, that sad, broken girl with no family left and nowhere to go. 
Your eyes fill with hot tears, you want to run away, but you can’t move. You’re frozen, feet glued to the linoleum tile. 
“I knew Rick... your fiancee,” Bethany says. “He was so sweet. We went to college together.”
“So sweet,” Cara looks at you and flashes another sickly sweet smile.
You inhale sharply, tears falling down your face. You hastily wipe it away, “I... I gotta go.”
You grab your purse off the counter and rush out of the door, slamming into a hard chest and a pair of hands that fly to catch you by the waist. 
Joel stares down at you, grounding you, and your eyes begin to brim with tears, “What’s wrong, sugar? What happened?”
The words tumble out of you, wiping away the tears that slip out while you ramble on, “Nothing, I just... the women in there, they’re horrible, they hate me, and they make me feel like shit. They brought up Rick and they think you’re hot and they think we’re dating and I just wanna go. I’m just gonna go home-”
He looks over your head at three women leaving the bathroom, waving in his direction. 
Joel looks back down at you before tucking his fingers into the straps of your dress and pulling you into a searing kiss. Your inhale sharply when his soft lips meet yours, and your hands grip onto his flannel shirt, sighing into his mouth. He slips his hands up to the back of your neck, tilting your face up to kiss you more completely, unraveling you in his capable hands. 
Bethany stares at you wide eyed, getting the other girls attention, all jaws dropped in utter shock at the image before them. 
His tongue dances with yours as he moves his lips expertly, his thumb gently rubbing against your cheekbone as he coaxes your lips open. He hums small praises while tracing shapes into your skin. You let a small noise slip past you, unable to contain how good he’s making you feel, swallowing your sadness and helping you breathe again. 
He groans as he forces himself to pull away from you, struggling not to kiss you again. Forgetting you’re not alone. 
Joel’s hands slip down to rest on your shoulders, lips flushed and swollen from the kiss, voice gravelly, “I hate terrible people.”
You look at him, mouth parted, lipstick probably smudged. He licks his lips before glaring at back at the women before they scoff and walk away, muttering under their breath. 
Neither of you get the time to speak of it before Sarah is running down the hallway, after hearing the commotion. You and Joel split apart when she comes up, and she’s smiling widely. 
“Kelsey asked if I could sleepover, can I go get my stuff at the house and go to her place? Pretty please,” she begs her dad, clasping her hands together. 
He tears his eyes away from you and nods, smiling, “Yeah, that’s fine. We’ll head home and I’ll walk you there.”
Sarah grins happily before looking up at you. “Everything okay, y/n?”
You force a smile and fix a flower falling out of her hair, “Yeah, I’m good. And I think I’m ready to go, too.”
“Do you need a ride?” Joel asks. “I know you walked here cause we all live so close, but I don’t want you walkin’ home in the dark. Also Sarah’s got control of the radio on the way back,” he offers you a grin. “She’s got good taste.”
“We’re listening to 80′s hits,” Sarah nods, taking her job very seriously. 
You nod, feeling better just by being near the two of them. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
~~~
“Head Over Heels” by Tears For Fears is blaring through Joel’s truck and you’re humming under your breath while Sarah is screaming it in the backseat. Joel laughs at his daughter in the rearview mirror. 
Grieving your boyfriend’s death has been something you’ve pushed aside for a long time. You knew these women could be catty, but you never thought they’d be downright cruel to you, bringing up Rick the way they did. Looking out the window, you think back to the moment you felt frozen in that bathroom, unable to speak or move. You feel embarrassed for not standing up for yourself, blaming yourself instead of them and their hateful words. 
Joel notices your faraway expression and rests his hand on your thigh in a way so Sarah can’t see. He rubs his thumb over your bare skin and it both calms and excites you, heat rushing to the apex of your legs. 
You let out a small sigh and lean back into the chair, resting your hand on top of his. He has to rip his eyes off of you, willing himself to ignore your pleased exhales if he was going to drive properly. 
He pulls the car into the driveway one-handed and comes to a stop, turning around to talk to Sarah, “Go grab your stuff, chick, and we’ll go to Kelsey’s.”
She nods and hops out, running towards the house.
Joel turns to you, hand still on your leg, clearly nervous, “Do you want... do you want to come inside? I have wine and some clothes you can put on, if you want something more comfortable.”
You search his set features for confirmation, “You sure? I can just walk next door to my house, I don’t wanna put you out-”
“Y/n...” he stops you. “You should know by now that if I say something I mean it, I promise you.”
You didn’t know if it was a good idea being with him alone like this, but you honestly didn’t want to be by yourself right now. 
You relent with a nod, “Alright. You had your chance to change your mind,” you flash a sneaky smile. 
The two of you step out of the car and head into his house. Sarah’s already tumbling down the stairs, changed into pajamas with a packed bag slung over her shoulder, “Ready to go when you are.”
“Damn, you got ready fast, kid,” he laughs despite himself. “Let’s go.”
Sarah runs up and hugs your side, “Bye, y/n!”
“Have fun with Kelsey, be safe, okay?” you squeeze her shoulder. 
Joel whispers to you as they walk to the door, “There’s shirts upstairs and some shorts you can borrow. Make yourself at home, okay?”
“Okay,” you smile softly. 
They head out and leave you alone in the dimly lit house. You exhale slowly and head up the stairs to go to his room. You look around at the messy bedroom, one king size bed with blue covers, and minimal decorations. It felt like him, smelled like him, cedar and oak and smoke. You open one of his drawers to grab one of his big tee shirts from work, and a pair of baggy gym shorts. 
You slip out of your dress, let down your hair, and set your red shawl down on top of it. You tug on the big tee shirt and pull on the gym shorts. As much as you had liked that dress, you feel like you can finally breathe now, much more comfortable in your sleepwear now. The clothes smelled of him, too, and it filled your chest with heat, a red glow pouring out of you. 
You’re in Joel Millers room... wearing his clothes. 
You can’t help but look around at the photos of Sarah and him in framed photos, some hung on the wall and others propped up on his drawers. There’s one photo that catches your eye in particular, though, the side of it folded in and tucked into the frame. It’s Joel smiling down at Sarah, just a baby in his arms, and there’s a part of the photograph hidden. But you spot a glimpse of a yellow dress in the corner, the rest of it hidden away. 
You wonder if it’s Sarah’s mom. You don’t know much about her, just that Sarah says she never got to know her, and hardly remembers anything about her. It broke your heart hearing that, wishing she could have, but also selfishly wanting to be that person for her.
“Found what you needed?” 
You jump at Joel’s sudden presence in the room and turn around to him. “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to snoop, I-”
He smirks and it feels like a lit match to your insides, “I know, darlin. Nothing to be sorry about.”
His eyes trail over you in his clothes, your arms folded under your chest, “You look good in my clothes, sweetheart. Better than I do, that’s for sure.”
You smile, “Thank you. And thanks for letting me borrow them. I feel better.”
He pinches his brow together, “Do you want to talk to me more about what happened? We don’t have to, but just know I’m here.”
You take a step towards him, “I know, I just haven’t talked about him in a long time.”
“Him?” his eyebrows raise.
You laugh at his shock, moving past him so he follows you downstairs, “Down, boy. I’m single, wouldn’t have let you kiss me if I wasn’t.”
He blushes. “Well, then, what about him?” he trails behind you to his kitchen. “If you don’t mind my asking.”
You love his Texan drawl and voice a bit too much, how deep and molasses like it was, how it coated you in sweetness and didn’t let up. Maybe it was because you weren’t from here and you weren’t used to it. But his was different and it affected you all the same. 
“I might tell you,” you hop up on the countertop. “Over a glass of wine.”
Joel cracks a smile, happily obliging your request with one of his wine bottles, “I can do that.”
He pours you a glass of red and hands it to you, “So... who’s Rick?” He sips his own.
“My um... my ex fiancee,” you say, taking a long sip of your wine. “It feels weird calling him that...” you let out a dark laugh. “-since the two of us never ended it ourselves, it sounds wrong. But he uh-” your voice gets thick. “He died the beginning of last year.”
His face falls, genuinely on your behalf, wanting to wrap you in his arms, but also wanting to let you continue, “I’m so sorry, y/n.”
You’ve heard that more times than you can count from friends, family, and strangers alike, but from him, it’s one of the most sincere you’ve ever heard. You actually believe he truly cares and you wonder why you didn’t tell him sooner, maybe worried you’d scare him off. You wanted a fresh start in a place where no one knew Rick, where no one knew what happened. 
“Thank you,” you sniff, mustering up a small, grateful smile before you continue. “It was New Year’s Eve. I didn’t know he had been drinking... he really seemed fine,” you recount like it was just yesterday that it happened. 
“He didn’t see the ice on the roads,” you take another long sip, hands shaking again. You clear your throat, “I tried to help him, I thought we would be fine. But there was a bridge... and we went off. He got me out,” you blink the tears away, breathing out the words as if expelling them from your person. Like you wouldn’t have to hold onto them anymore. “He didn’t.”
“I’m alive because of him,” you inhale sharply, finally looking at Joel. “And he’s dead because I didn’t notice...”
He frowns, “It is absolutely not your fault, y/n. It’s a horrible thing that happened and it is not because of you.”
You wipe your eyes with the back of your hand and it breaks Joel’s heart a bit more and more, “I haven’t thought about it in so long. And they brought him up in the bathroom. I don’t know how they found out, I haven’t told a soul here.”
Protectiveness slips into his deep tone of voice as he steps towards you, it sends a shock through you, “What did they say about him?”
You shake your head, letting out a laugh, “It’s not important.”
“It is absolutely fucking important,” his eyes darken when he speaks to you, you’d never seen him so worked up before. “I’ll go to the damn superintendent if I have to, they’re grown ass adults. They shouldn’t use the death of your fiancee against you.”
You can’t help but let a smile slip through, “It’s cute how mad you are about this.”
He scoffs, mirroring your amused expression, “Believe me, I’ve dealt with the wolves before. They ask you inappropriate questions and dig into your personal life, pushing your boundaries like it’s nothing. No one can have any secrets around here.”
“Yeah,” you sniff. “I noticed that.”
There’s a beat of silence before he sighs and says quietly between the two of you, “When they found out about Sarah’s mom leaving her when she was a baby, they brought it up to her at a school picnic. Made her feel small. She ran home, crying her eyes out. I’d never seen her so upset. I was scared what I would do. It broke me.”
You nod in understanding, “That’s awful, Joel. I’m sorry. For you and for Sarah.”
“The next time they brought it up, Sarah asked Bethany why she’d been divorced six times. You should have seen the look on her face,” he laughs and you join him, throwing your head back at the mental image of Bethany’s pinched, angry face. 
“Oh my god, I love Sarah so much,” you let your head fall into your hands, still laughing loudly in the otherwise silent kitchen. 
“I was very proud,” he grinned. 
“I’d hope so,” you tilt your head slightly. “She gets it from you. I wonder how she got that information about Bethany.”
“Beats me,” he smirks and you narrow your eyes affectionately in his direction. “Smart kid, that one.”
The two of you let the moment sink in for a bit in the silence. Joel’s standing between your legs now, hands on either side of your thigh, steadying himself. He searches your face like he did at the start of the evening, fingers itching to touch you again. 
“Should we...” you finally say, pulling you both back into reality. “Should we talk about the kiss back there?”
“What’s there to talk about about?”
You frown, filling with a sense of dread that you’ve misread this entire night, “What do you mean?”
He jumps to fix what he said, hands falling to splay out on your thighs, “No, baby, wait not like that-” he sighs. “Shit, I’m sorry, I’m out of practice with this, sweetheart-”
You press a kiss to his lips, causing him to abruptly cease his rambling. You tilt your head and pull away from hm after just a couple seconds. He leans against you even after you’re away from him, lips trying to follow you. 
“I just meant...” you whisper with a small smile, looking up at him through your lashes. “Like what does this mean? Because I haven’t done something like this since Rick and I’m trying not to feel guilty...”
“Guilty bout what?”
“For moving on.”
“You shouldn’t feel guilty for that,” he shakes his head, lowering his voice. “I understand if you’re not ready though. It took me awhile, to open again, I still haven’t completely... But I can’t imagine how difficult it must be for you. And I know I’ve never met Rick, but I believe he’d want you to be happy. With whoever, even if it’s not me.”
Your heart cracks open at the sweetness of his words, splitting you in two right in front of him. You know you shouldn’t feel bad, even if you’ve moved on from loving Rick, a part of you will always mourn and have a place in your heart for him. You needed to realize there was more than enough room to let other people in too. 
Your eyes soften, “You’re more out of practice than I thought if you think I’ve moved on with anyone else but you, Joel Miller.”
His eyes darken with something like raw desire and complete adoration, something like love that you haven’t seen in a long, long time. You don’t know if he’s been looking at you like this all along and if you’ve just now begun to notice. 
Joel leans down to whisper to you, hand on your neck, thumb tucked under chin and other fingers on the side of your throat, squeezing just so. You dreamed of this, thought if he would be rough or sweet, when he was really a stunning, swirling mix of both. 
“You were so jealous earlier,” his voice is wrecked in your ear, low and gravelly. “I thought I was just imagining it at first, but talking about those moms that think of me, you got so red. It was so sexy, sweetheart.”
You gasp a little, wanting to deny it, tease him. But who were you both kidding? You were jealous, and now there’s a warm satisfaction in the center of your chest at the fact they were wrong. Singing insults, saying he wouldn’t want you. Now you’re in his kitchen in the middle of the night wearing his shirt and he’s in between your legs, pressing against you. 
“They said I didn’t have a chance with you,” you tangle you hands in his shirt, tugging him closer. 
He shakes his head, eyes never leaving you, “I’m only yours, baby. Always have been.”
You all but pounce on him in that moment, wrapping your arms around his neck and tugging him close. He laughs just before you softly press your lips against his, the rumbling, beautiful sound vibrating against you. You’re tugging at each other almost immediately, his hands pulling and sliding up and down your waist while your arms wrap around his head. You fingers slide through his brunette curls, pleasantly humming at the satisfaction of knowing his hair is just as soft as you imagined, how even his rough hands feel gentle, and how his lips move with yours, slowly, languidly, painfully. 
“You’re beautiful...” he kisses the words into your neck, repeating it over and over. “My beautiful, beautiful, girl.”
“Joel...” you sigh out and tilt your head back. 
“Puts your arms around my neck, baby,” he whispers, arms pulling your legs up so they wrap around his torso. “What I want to do to you won’t work exactly on my kitchen counter.”
You quickly oblige him and he carries you up his stairs, your hands and lips never leaving each others. He stumbles while holding you, making you giggle into his shoulder, shrieking when he almost drops you.
“Was this the kind of lifting you had in mind with me tonight?” you smile softly into his skin. 
He kicks open his bedroom door, “I’ve always had this in my mind, sweetheart.”
You both drop onto the bed, wanting to take this slow but also get to what you’ve both been wanting as soon as possible. He’s atop you, hands on either side of your head while you kiss like college students, handsy and messy and surprisingly amazing. How fast you two fit together, how good it feels. He grinds his lower half into yours. You moan into his mouth, earning one from him, both enjoying and exploring the other. 
“I wanna taste you, sugar,” he lifts your chin up with his fingers, kissing down your chin then your neck then your collarbone and chest. 
You wordlessly slip off your, his, shirt revealing that you have nothing on beneath it. He inhales sharply, taken aback by you. Your fingers scramble for the buttons of his flannel and you honestly think you break a few, moving so quickly. 
“Impatient, are we?”
You look up at him through your lashes, “Just know what I want.”
Joel shrugs off his shirt, undoes his belt, and pulls off his jeans. You barely have time to admire his toned body, broad shoulders before he descends. He tugs off your, his, shorts, tosses them, and kisses everywhere his fingers leave, wet, open mouthed whispers against hot skin that make moisture pool between your thighs. His lips trail from your belly to your inner thighs and back up again. 
“Nothing underneath?” he kisses the soft flesh, noting the slick at the apex of your legs. “This all for me, darlin?”
You nod when he licks a stripe up your cunt, “Only you, Joel.”
He buries his face in you, eating you out like a man starved, rutting against the bed like he’s enjoying it as much as you are. You all but scream at the way he’s unraveling you with his tongue, circling your clit, accompanying his skilled mouth with his equally capable fingers, bigger than yours
When you tug at the ends of his hair, he groans into you, the noises fueling the coil in your gut, begging it to splinter and snap. He sucks hard and you let out a loud moan at the feeling. He holds you down against the bed with a palm flat against your stomach as you begin to lift your pelvis. Joel’s tongue enters you while his fingers take over, stimulating you with gentle rubs and flicks. 
Your orgasm washes over you, the pressure relieving through every nerve and vessel, his name a prayer leaving you over and over. Wishing for him to come fix you again. 
You pull him up to you and bring him down to press your lips against his. He melts into you, arms wrapped around you while he holds you close, filling you out in all the right places while you taste yourself in his kiss. 
“Can I...?” you ask him, hands slipping down to palm him through his boxers. 
He groans, head falling into the crook that meets between your neck and shoulder, “As much as I would enjoy that, baby... we’re gonna need to do that later. Need to be inside you.”
You look at him for a moment, just breathing him in as cheesy as it sounds. It’s only hit you now how much you’ve been longing for this.
“You have all of me,” you tell him, moonlight sculpting his handsome features. 
“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for you to say that, y/n...” your name is blanketed by his voice, delivered to you in the way Zeus gives the world lightning. Simple bursts of electricity that can tear the earth. 
You hold his stubbled jaw in your hands, rubbing his cheek with your thumbs. He doesn’t remember a time anyone has ever looked at him like you do, gently, adoringly, openly.
Joel puts his lips near your ear, kissing your temple, “Are you ready for me, sweetheart?” 
You nod as he pushes himself inside you and you bite back a moan into his shoulder. 
Your hair is in messy tendrils in every which way and you’ve never been more breathtaking to him. The color of your eyes brighter, skin flushed with warmth, and lips puffy. His eyes scan over your face, committing your soft and sharp features alike to memory. Lust blown and glowing with dewy sweat. 
“Eyes on me, beautiful,” he holds your jaw in his hand, kissing you again. 
He quickens his pace and you whine into his mouth, nails digging into his skin. You wrap your legs around his torso and he hits you so nicely. He rises and looks at you, lips swollen and red from kissing, eyes clear and pupils large, and face flushed with heat. 
“You’re doing so good for me,” he praises in your ear, littering kisses across your jaw. “Wanted you for so long...” he find your lips again with his own.
You mewl into his lips, licking his tongue as he pushes inside you again and again and again.
This past year of stolen glances and touches seem so pointless when it could have been this, this beautiful mess of limbs and lips and tongue. You never knew euphoria until this moment. 
Joel’s hips begin to stutter and you’re both already close to release. You lick up his throat and kiss a constellation across his jaw, feeling him gulp under your touch.
“Keep kissing me like that, sugar, and I’m done for.”
You can’t help yourself, overwhelmed with feeling as the two of you reach your climax together. Blissful and stupid. His lips wander down your neck and nipping that sweet spot, as you arch into him.
You whimper and his movements slow as do yours, walls tightening around him. He reaches down and rubs your clit with his expert fingers. 
You finish together, mouths open and hands all over each other’s bodies. It overcomes you in a tingling, perfect sensation, continuing on in euphoric waves, leaving you aching and wanting more. He kisses you through it and it aches, all of the love you have pouring into him and him into you.
As you both lay there, chests heaving slips parted, he smiles down at you.
“Will you go out… with me?” Joel says sweetly, kissing your temples. “That usually comes first but we- I…”
You interrupt his nervous ramblings with a soft kiss, “The answer is always yes.”
You interrupt his nervous ramblings with a press of your lips quietly, “Yes. The answer is always yes.”
Joel rubs his knuckles over your cheek, softly and adoringly he looks at you. You tuck yourself into his arms under the blankets. Your chests heaving, out of breath but happy. Everything you both have wanted for a long, long time, laying right in front of each other. 
“Can I...” he searches your face, face red and nervous you’ll say no even when you’re in his arms. “Can I take you out tomorrow? I usually do that before this, but we just... I-”
You interrupt with a kiss, his new favorite thing, whispering, “Yes, Joel. The answer is always yes.”
3K notes · View notes
me-writes-prompts · 6 months
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:-“A crush to make you blush” Cute crush prompts-:
(It’s crush season y’all, and I’m in the feels~~ TAG ME OKAY?!)
By @me-writes-prompts
“You know that outfit looked really good on you[name].” “Oh…T-thank you, haha.”
Getting all flustered when they’re in close proximity that their crush starts to question them if they are all right.
“You okay? Your face is red.” “Yeah, I mean, yes. Totally, it’s just the weather.”
“You brought me a gift! Aww, thank you.” “I figured you’d really ummm like it.” “Yes! I love it!” *blushes intensely from their crush’s heart eyes*
Person C getting suspicious of Person A, and Person A having to find a good reason as to why they have been so close to Person B lately.
Awkwardly playing with their hands because they don't know what to do with them, but then their crush notices and takes their hands in theirs.
"Hey, I've wanted to ask you this for a while now, but I don't know how." "Hmm? What is it?" "I just...I've noticed you've been kind of ignoring me? Like, we don't hangout as we much as we used to anymore. Is everything okay? Are you okay?" "I'm...I'm fine! It's just some things have been getting in my way lately." "Oh, okay. Well, can we hang-out this weekend if you're free?" "Of course!"
Longing stares and glancing away when they look your way cause you've just been caught in 4k>>>>>>>>
Not quite believing when their crush asks them to a dance and looking dumbfounded, while their crush grins at them
Smiling a little too much when they are around them because they cannot believe that they get to see them, be close to them like no one else.
Unintentionally gravitating towards them, because there is this force they can't stop being pulled to.
"So...I've never asked you this. But, are you dating anyone right now?" "No, no one. Why?" "I was wondering if you wanted to go out with me this Friday?" "Omg, this is not happening. Yes! A million times!"
1K notes · View notes
norrizzandpia · 7 months
Text
Used (LN4)
Summary: A bet can do more harm than good.
Warnings: i dont think ive ever wrote something this angsty, its very sad so be warned, lando is a back stabbing bitch but hes stupidly in love, literally stupidly, insecurities, loss of virginity, major betrayal, sad ending but there will be a part 2 bc as we all know i cant do sad endings
Note: im very sorry for this one
Word count: somewhere in the 4k’s
When Oscar got into F1, Y/n promised herself she wouldn’t follow her brother around the paddock like a lost puppy. With cameras all around and prying eyes, she wanted to come across as independent and strong rather than pathetic and small. For a while, that translated, but it got lonely after a few months. Missing her brother as he was busy doing interviews or creating connections, and losing her parents in the mass of people, she always found herself alone. That was until Lando fully came into the picture. He hadn’t wanted to overstep boundaries with his teammate by befriending his sister, but the boy couldn’t resist when he continued to catch glimpses of her struggle to fit in. She was too young to hang out with any of the racers’ girlfriends, yet too old to hang out with the children of powerful people. She was only 19, still figuring out what life was, why she was here, and what she was meant to do. So, overcoming his own anxieties, Lando approached the girl on a rainy Sunday when the race had been postponed because of the wet weather.
“Can I sit here?” He had said, smiling lightly at her as her head slowly moved up to make eye contact with the popular driver.
She had moved over on the bench, nodding quickly as if she was afraid any time in which he had to wait would set him off.
At first, things were awkward with Lando not knowing anything about her and Y/n being too shy to form any words in front of the boy she thought was cute. Nonetheless, after 20 minutes, words were spoken, and conversing became second nature.
Gradually, Lando felt Y/n warm up to him as she realized the driver was someone she found solace in.
Her first friend in Formula One.
Everyone in the paddock began to take note of the budding friendship quickly evolving between the sister and the driver. While people were happy to see a new connection growing, Oscar was weary. It was no secret Lando had a track record of sleeping around, pretending to be close to women for only one night in order to get what he wanted. The women in question always understood the pattern and never found offense or distaste with it, but Y/n wasn’t that mature, Oscar knew. His sister was still naive and her lack of attention toward media outlets played into her lack of luck as she didn’t realize Lando could be around for all the wrong reasons. Oscar did, though, and he made it incredibly clear to the British boy that any impure advances on his sister were not, and never would be, welcomed.
“You pull any weird shit and I’ll have your head.” He said sternly to Lando in a tone that no one had ever heard come out of the Australian before.
“I’m not going to, Oscar. I’m sorry if this makes you uncomfortable, but we’ve realized we just have so much in common. There’s nothing else behind it, I promise. I just like your sister’s company. That’s it.” He reassured.
And, for a while, that was true. Lando saw nothing else behind their friendship, however, that soon began to change. He noted the way he became so comfortable being touchy with her or giving her impromptu compliments about how pretty she looked that day. Being experienced in that realm of life, Lando also noted the way her cheeks blushed ever so slightly under his eye, and he couldn’t ignore the way his insides twisted at her subtle happiness over him.
They danced around each other and their feelings for some time until a drunken night changed everything. Lando had invited his friends from DJing over, one of those people being Martin Garrix. The men had laid themselves out on Lando’s luxurious couch with beers in hand, chugging away as they gossiped like 13-year-old girls.
The conversation came easily with these people as Martin interrupted and changed the topic to something a bit more interesting, “Lando, I gotta ask. What’s going on with you and Oscar’s sister?”
At this point in their relationship, Lando was still in the stage of denying any deeper feelings for her, “Nothing? What do you mean?”
Martin shook his head as the boys around him knowingly eyed each other, “Come on, you two are definitely sleeping together.”
“No, we aren’t.” He said immediately, not understanding why he had become so invested in protecting Y/n’s image.
Martin’s eyebrows furrowed, “So, you two aren’t sneaking around behind the brother’s back?”
“No,” Lando said firmly, but his defiance on the subject proved to worsen his situation as Martin set his beer down and looked at him with a mischievous look.
“Then, I have a proposition for you.” His arms rested on his knees as he leaned forward.
“What?” Lando mirrored his stance.
“Obviously, you know I have that really big gig next year at The Cabin in New York.” Lando nodded, “Well, if you can get Y/n to fall in love with you, maybe even sleep with her, I don’t know, then you can play it. Play the set at The Cabin.” Martin’s idea made Lando’s eyes bulge out of his head and his body leap from the couch.
The alcohol in his system proved to do its job by impairing his judgment as he didn’t ask questions or try to understand why Martin would get off on playing with someone in that way. All the boy did was scream his agreeance and then excitement for playing at The Cabin in New York.
“YOU ASKED MY SISTER OUT!?” Oscar had screamed in fury at Lando 2 days later.
Putting his hands up, Lando tried to talk down an aggravated teammate, “Listen, Oscar. Listen,” He pleaded, “I didn’t see it coming, really. But, I…” The words felt sour in his mouth as the guilt for what he was about to embark on set in, “I didn’t expect to fall for her, okay? I just did and I hope you’ll trust me enough that I’m not going to play her like I do the others. I wouldn’t hurt you like that and I especially wouldn’t hurt her like that.”
His words seemed to calm the blonde boy as he looked Lando in the eye, trying to decipher if he was being truthful. And, even though he wasn’t, Oscar found Lando’s spewed sentences to be genuine.
“Fine, but, I’m serious, Lando,” Oscar shoved a finger into Lando’s chest, “if you pull anything, I won’t hesitate to find crazy dirt on you and blackmail McLaren into firing you. Trust me, I’m smart enough to ruin your whole career.”
His threats went in Lando’s right ear and out the other because he found his British accent flooding the room they stood in as he said, “I promise, nothing will happen.”
“Is there any specific you want for tonight, my love?” Lando whispered against her skin as they lay in his bed, tangled together after a busy morning of meetings and conversations discussing their announcement of their relationship to the public with McLaren’s PR teams.
She breathed against the crook of his neck as she toyed with his shirt, “No, just excited to go out with you.”
He chuckled as he breathed the scent of her shampoo in, “Me too, baby.”
After nearly 3 months, the couple had fallen easily into the norms of a romantic relationship. Having not yet slept together or fully opened up and shown the other dark parts of themselves, they had a long way to go, but, at that moment, the two were content.
Content with having casual dates, hidden under baseball caps and sunglasses to keep from someone seeing them and outing their newfound connection. Content with the star gazing they had scheduled a few weeks back for that night, fulfilling something Y/n had mentioned she wanted to try.
They found themselves lost in the sky, weeds surrounding them as they lay side by side on a thin blanket to separate them from the rough grass beneath. In a quiet moment with Y/n’s fingers pointing out constellations to him, Lando sunk into himself.
His past few months with her had proven to be a lot more interesting than he had expected. Pretending to be in love with her started to feel less like a forced feeling and more like something he had been destined to feel for her and her only his whole life. The guilt ate away at him, but the love that was slowly consuming him for her trumped it every time.
“Lan? You still here?” Her sweet voice cut through his thoughts, making his head turn to meet her eyes.
He smiled at her, “Yeah, sorry, just lost track of my thoughts, I think.”
Her hand trailed up and down his stomach, “You okay?”
“Mhm, just don’t want to leave.” He nodded, looking at her so she could understand that he didn’t just want to leave this moment, he didn’t want to leave her.
She cracked a small smile, “Oh, me neither.”
A beat of silence went by before she sat up and turned to look down at him, “When did you realize you wanted more than just a friendship between us?”
This question was something he was anticipating and absolutely dreaded because, if he were to tell the truth, he would have to tell her she was a bet with his friends and that was the only reason he had been pushed to confront his underlying feelings for her. Although, wanting his gig, Lando tried to tell a white lie.
“I don’t really know when it happened. I just know that one day I really liked talking with you and the next I just liked you.” Simple and sweet, he thought. That was the trick to getting away with this.
Her blush complicated things and the butterflies in his stomach over her smile laid out the strong counterargument to his mind.
“Hm.” She said as she lowered herself back to the ground.
Lando’s curiosity took over as he asked what she meant by the ominous sound.
“Just that, I didn’t expect you to like me. I mean, you’re past is a lot of picture-perfect models and well-rounded, intellectual, impressive women. Not a 19-year-old kid whose major is undecided as she enters into her second year of college.” Her words struck a deep cord within his chest that he couldn’t not play.
“Is that all you think you are?” He was complicating the situation further, he understood that, but to think Y/n didn’t understand how amazing she was was something he couldn’t ignore.
She shrugged her shoulders, “Well, Lan, what else would I be?”
He was internally shocked at her obliviousness to her own perfection, “‘What else would I be?’ Y/n, what? You’re not just some lost college kid. You’re Oscar’s best friend and the person I would call first no matter what the situation. You’re so much to everyone around you. How can you not see that?”
Her voice came out trembly as she stared at the stars, “It’s hard when your brother’s constantly outshined you your whole life. My parents never realized they had another kid when I was growing up. It was all about Oscar and his races, his success. I never lived up to anything to actually make them notice me.”
His heart broke for the hurt little girl she was clearly entrusting him with, “Y/n, look at me.” His hands wrapped around her jaw to turn her head to the side, their eyes meeting in an intense stare, “Oscar could never outshine you and the fact that you’ve gone your whole life thinking anyone, let alone your brother, has the ability to take other’s attention from you is preposterous. You are the first thing that catches people’s eye when they walk into a room. You’re intoxicating with the way you carry yourself. You’re not just a confused child, you’re you. You are your best friend’s safe space, Oscar’s go-to person to brag about, you’re my favorite person, and, even though you might not think so, your parent’s pride and joy. You’re so many things, darling. Just because you aren’t an F1 driver doesn’t mean you don’t mean something. If it means anything, to me, you mean everything.”
His forehead rested against hers as he whispered the words to her, her eyes closed against his skin as she took in what she had longed to hear since she was 7. Lando’s thumbs rested against her cheeks, collecting the soft tears as they fell from her eyes.
“Sorry,” She whispered as she tried to back away from his hold, apologizing for the wetness that was pooling around his fingers.
However, Lando was quick to pull her back in, “No, don’t apologize. Letting me in isn’t something I’m afraid of, Y/n. It’s something I’m grateful to experience.”
She nodded, at a loss for words as she reveled in his gentleness. His hold on her tightened as he pushed her against his chest, whispering words into her ear.
Words that spoke truths he believed deep within himself and words that complexified the bet he had made.
“So, tell us what’s going on with you and the hotshot driver!” Y/n’s best friend, Paige, exclaimed at breakfast weeks after Lando and she had gone public.
Y/n rolled her eyes playfully, “Nothing! We’re just together. It’s not that serious.”
Paige reeled back in her seat, sending her a questionable look, “Really? ‘Not that serious’? Are you kidding me? He took your virginity!”
“Shh!!! Shh!!” Y/n jabbed a finger in her friend's face in response to the loud volume accompanied by the exposition of her situation.
“Sorry!” Paige squeaked, looking around to make sure no one had heard her, thankfully no one had. She continued, “Does he know?”
“That it was my first time? Yeah.” Y/n informed as Paige smiled triumphantly at the girl across from her.
“So, was he sweet? Did you like it?” Paige fired off the questions.
Y/n blushed, being taken back to the night before where Lando had assured her he would be gentle.
He had.
“Yes, he was very sweet. We got back from the date and decided to watch a movie. During it, we started kissing and then, you know, one thing led to another, and…”
“You told him.” Paige finished her sentence.
Y/n waved her head slowly to the left and right, “Well, it started getting intense, so I just let him know. I tried to be pretty nonchalant about it, come off like it wasn’t that big of a deal, but the moment he heard it, he was telling me how much he cared about it.”
Paige’s eyebrows furrowed, “What do you mean?”
“He just wanted to talk about it, wanted to make sure I wasn’t rushing into anything and that I actually wanted to do this with him. He told me how he didn’t want to screw anything up and how he really wanted it to go well for me, so if I needed him to change anything, I could just let him know. He was really big on communication through the whole thing and, honestly, it made things so much easier. And, then, after we were done, I got up to leave, but he acted like I had just said he wouldn’t ever win a world championship, and then insisted on me staying. Paige, he was so perfect.”
The two girls giggled together as they dug into their food, “So, you’ve let him in completely then?”
Y/n giggled, not having a clue of what was to come, “After he saw me completely naked and I told him about my deepest insecurities? Yeah, I have. I just hope this doesn’t backfire in my face.”
Lando was Y/n’s first love. There was no doubt about that. So, surprising him at the Silverstone Grand Prix sounded like a good idea. However, as she and Oscar stood outside his Driver’s Room door, accidentally eavesdropping on his conversation with Martin, the world proved to her that being there entirely was a horrible idea.
“Mate, I think it's gone too far. I want to back out of the bet.” Lando’s muffled voice sounded through the wall as Oscar and Y/n glanced at each other, matching confusion on their faces.
“No way, Lando. We made a deal. I don’t want to do this gig, I’ve done it so many times before it’s boring now, but for someone like you who has never done it, it’ll be fun.” Martin pleaded.
Y/n could practically hear Lando shake his head, “No, Martin. We should’ve never made it in the first place. I don’t want to play at The Cabin. Dating her for a bet is so cruel. I should’ve stopped it so long ago. I should’ve told you ‘no’ immediately.”
She didn’t even really comprehend what his words meant for a few minutes. She just stood there, eyes fixed on the door, trying desperately to figure out a way to explain away what he had just revealed.
Oscar’s hand gripped her arm as he watched her realize Lando’s true intent. His lip trembled, trying to keep the tears at bay, as his little sister broke in front of him. Her mouth opened and closed before her eyes watered and her gaze was shooting around the hallway in an attempt to find her brother. The fact that he was right in front of her didn’t translate in her brain, which had been in immediate turmoil once it dawned on her.
“Y/n, I’m right here.” He repeated to her as he slowly coaxed her into his embrace. Blind rage threatened to fill Oscar’s body, wanting nothing more than to storm into Lando’s room and rip him to shreds, but, as his sister quietly sobbed in his arms, he knew she needed him more than his fist needed to collide with Lando’s face.
Fortunately, his room wasn’t too far, so they weren’t seen by anyone as they made their way. The tears never ceased, only intensifying once they found themselves tucked away in the privateness of his own four walls.
“I was a bet?” Her choked sobs fought to silence her, but she continued to repeat the words as if it could cause her confusion to be fixed.
She clutched onto her older brother as she willed herself to go back in time and never step foot in an F1 paddock. Her mind raced as it tried to erase their time together and the love she had for him, the love she still had for him.
Hours after crying so much the tears dried up, Y/n found herself numb as she poured steeped the tea bag into the steaming hot water. No longer caring if she ran into him, she stood in the middle of McLaren’s hospitality, still trying to understand when she went wrong.
When she started loving him in the way that she did now. Even after finding out it was fake, his love for her was fake, she can’t stop the way her heart still beats for him.
The way, even after he had hurt her as badly as he did, she still searched for him in the crowd.
Oscar was off doing an interview, something he begrudgingly went off as he wanted to sit with his sister longer, as she made her walk back to his resting room.
Her attention was on the warm temperature that surrounded her face when she sipped her drink, she didn’t see the man of the hour turn the corner nor did she see the way his gaze landed on her or the way he began running toward her, confused as to why she was here.
“Y/n? Love, what are you doing here? I thought you had a test you couldn’t skip?” His voice forced feelings into her body whether she liked it or not. However, this time instead of feeling suffocating sadness, she felt pure, bewildered rage.
Turning around, she met his eyes, “What set do you think you’ll play at The Cabin?”
Lando’s eyebrows furrowed together at her question as well as the look on her face he wasn’t accustomed to.
“What?” He asked simply, not believing she could know.
She took a step closer to him, letting the betrayal take control, “When you play in New York at The Cabin, Lan,” Her smile was sickly and incredibly fake, “What are you going to play? I was thinking that one remix you have that you said makes the crowd go wild. I mean, it has to be big seeing as you went through so much trouble to get the spot. Ya know, dating me for a bet and all.” She took his silence and blank stare as an invitation to keep going, “Inspiring, really, Lando. The amount of dedication you must have when it comes to being a DJ that you would exploit someone else’s vulnerability, allow them to tell you all the internalized bullshit they’ve struggled with their whole lives, and, then!” She exclaimed, her voice translating ferocity rather than joy, “And then!” She dryly laughed, “Take their virginity just to spice things up! Wow, Lando, you have a certain level of determinedness I think society doesn’t address enough.”
His hand reached out for hers, but she quickly pulled her own back to her chest, looking at him in disgust, “Y/n, let me explain.”
Not wanting to look at his face any longer, she turned around, hightailing it to Oscar’s as she heard Lando follow her.
“Y/n, I’m serious. Please, there’s an explanation. Listen to me, baby. Please, I’m begging you.” He pleaded with her as he continued to reach for her, but he was always just a little too late.
“Y/n, I never meant for it to go this far. I though-” He tried, but Y/n was whirling around and jabbing a finger into his chest as she interrupted him with a fiery gaze.
“You never meant for it to go this far? Really? That’s the best you can give me!? I was lonely and you took advantage of that! You didn’t mean for it to go this far? Are you kidding me? You should’ve never even looked in my direction. You’re sick in the head for knowingly taking my virginity! For taking what was supposed to be something special and eventful, something meaningful, and twisting it into some stepping stone all a part of your grand plan to gain a bigger audience for your hobby! That was mine. That moment, when I allowed a guy I trusted and loved to take something so sacred, was supposed to be something I looked fondly back on. That part of my life, my girlhood, you exploited for your own personal gain. Where the hell do you get off? I trusted you. I told you things about my life, about myself, I’ve never told anyone before, and, what? The whole time it was a bet to you? A task you had to complete in order to turn some tables at a club in a dirty city?”
He stared at her, trying to peer into her soul and tell her all the things he didn’t know how to say, but, with all the hurt he had presented her with, she didn’t see him. She didn’t see the anguish he was going through over his actions catching up with him and abusing someone who was completely innocent. She didn’t see how hard he was trying to tell her he loved her and he always had.
“Y/n, it was never that to me. Please, you have to understand. You’ve always been so much more to me. Y/n, I love you-” Once again, she was shutting him up.
“That’s not love, Lando, and it’s pathetic you think it is.”
With that, she stepped into her brother’s room, closed the door, and locked it. Effectively, shutting Lando out.
For good or for the time being, he didn’t know.
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Dancing With Our Hands Tied
Mattheo Riddle x Slytherin reader
Prompt 4 of @thatdammchickennugget ‘s hogmarch challenge🫶🏽 and dedicated to this psychic anon request 💕
Summary: I’d kiss you as the lights went out, Swaying as the room burned down, I’d hold you as the water rushes in, If I could dance with you again.
word count: 4k
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You watch silently from across the Slytherin common room as yet another girl places her hand flirtatiously on Mattheo’s chest, batting her lashes with that seductive grin you knew all too well from watching all the other girls do it too.
“Go to the dance with me?” Her lips read as she leaned closer to your friend.
You can’t help but smile as Mattheo just rolls his eyes, moving away from the girl, not giving her more than a shake of his head.
The girl’s mouth hangs open in shock of the rejection. Really she should be flattered you thought dryly to yourself. She’d made it significantly further than others you’d witnessed.
Truth was, you’d had a massive crush on Mattheo since you were kids, and watching as he rejected girl after girl was much more entertaining than you cared to admit.
Growing up, you’d always admired his bold brashness, and willingness to say whatever came to mind. The two of you had always gotten into trouble together, bouncing mischievous ideas back and forth. The summer before coming to Hogwarts, your mother had given you a heart shaped locket, and Mattheo had insisted that a photo of the two of you go inside it.
"In case we don't go to the same house." The boy had reasoned.
But of course, he’d never seen you as anything more than a friend, and unfortunately, the cringey, cliche nature of the situation was not lost on you. Even now, as you mindlessly fingered the carefully disillusioned pendant while Mattheo stalked towards your group with an air of agitation.
“Bloody hell I can’t wait for this fucking Yule ball rubbish to be over and done with,” Mattheo states flatly as he sits down lazily on the sofa next to you.
“Just pick a girl to go with then. They’ll leave you alone if they think you have a date. Why do you think I asked Daph so early on?” Theo replies, not bothering to look up from his book.
Daphne whacks him with her textbook.
You watch as Mattheo tilts his head in consideration before his eyes shift over to you, a sly grin forming on his face.
“Don’t even think about,” you say, holding up your hand as if to block out whatever idiocy the boy was about to spew.
Now it’s Mattheo’s turn to open his mouth in shock.
“Wha- you don’t even know what I was gonna say!”
“You were going to ask me if I’d go to the dance with you,” you reply dryly. “Honestly Matt, I’m not stupid.”
“Well will you?” He asks, giving you his most charming smile.
“I’m already going with Blaise.” You respond.
Looking back, had it been a bit of a rash decision? Yes. But you had made peace with the fact that Mattheo likely wouldn’t ask you to be his date, and Blaise was one of your best friends. You knew you’d have a good time with him, and all your other friends had been pairing up.
“Tell Blaise to go with Astoria,” Mattheo reasons.
“Toria is already going with Enzo.” Daphne intervenes.
“What about Pansy?”
“She and Millicent got accosted by Crabbe and Goyle last I heard,” Theo replies.
“He can go with Draco then! People already mistake them for gay lovers anyway.”
“Matt, you know Draco is trying to muster up the courage to ask Harry. Don’t be dense.” You reply.
“Oh come on! How do you all have this sorted out already? The ball was only announced yesterday!”
“We organized it at dinner,” Daphne responds, as if the answer was obvious.
“You mean while I was in detention?” Mattheo asks incredulously, only to be met with a chorus of ‘yes’ and ‘mhms’.
You look over as your friend slumps into the sofa in defeat, a wave of slight guilt washing over you.
“Lighten up Matt, you’ve already been asked by a handful of girls today, you’ll be able to find someone to go with easy,” you say.
“Not with anyone who matters,” he grumbles, so low that you almost miss it.
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A week had gone by and you were about to lose your mind. You thought that after the initial conversation in the common room, Mattheo would relent and just pick one of his many admirers to take to the ball. You really should’ve known better. You’d known the boy long enough to know that once he had his mind set on something, there was really nothing in the world that could stop him. You just never thought that you would be what he set his mind to.
“Matt, I’ve told you a million times, I’m already going to the ball with Blaise,” you groan, collapsing on your bed as the raven haired boy follows you into your dorm.
“Well lucky for you, I have the perfect plan to steal you away from ole Blaisey boy,” Mattheo says, his signature smirk in place.
You roll your eyes, leaning back on your bed as you wait for him to continue.
“It’s easy. You just have to date me,” Mattheo replies, as if his idea was particularly clever.
You let out a rather unattractive snort as your heart clenches. It felt as though it might pound out of your chest.
“Matt, that has to be the worst idea you’ve ever had. And you’ve had a lot of really bad ideas.”
Though asking the girl that’s fancied him for years to pretend to date him, only for him to snatch it all away again a few weeks later probably had to be one of the cruelest, you thought to yourself.
“Oh c’mon. There’s no way Blaise would be offended if you ditched him if we said we were together. He’s a perfectly reasonable bloke. He’d understand!”
You shake your head once more. There was no way you were pretending to date the boy you had been pining after for this long. It was only going to end in one way. Heart break. And not on his end.
“Bloody hell. What if I can get Luna to go in your place. Will you do it then? We both know he’s been eyeing that loon up for months.”
“Don’t call her a loon Matty.” You tilt your head in consideration however.
If he was willing to actually encourage Blaise’s love life, and be willing to get intermixed within the logistics of it all, he must be desperate. And you had been dying to set the two of them up, you supposed.
But you just couldn’t shake the bad feeling this whole situation gave you. It couldn’t be all that bad though, right? You reasoned. You’d gotten this far without Matt realizing your feelings, a few weeks of bliss surely couldn’t hurt.
“Alright. Fine. I’ll tell Blaise we got together and that I want to go to the ball with you, only if Luna agrees to go with him instead.”
Mattheo immediately brightens at your words, a self satisfied grin spreading across his face.
“Good. Because I already told Blaise that we were together and that I was taking you to the ball,” he says quickly. “Also- considering Blaise is more of a yapper than people give him credit for, the rest of the group definitely already knows.”
Your mouth drops open as you glare at the boy in front of you.
“Matt. What on earth. Did you tell him?” You grit out, praying to Salazar that Blaise hadn’t embarrassed you too much.
Mattheo shrugs. “Just told him that we had been out by the lake on one of our walks and I kissed you. One thing led to another and I asked you out. He seemed to believe it pretty easily actually.”
The boy looked all too calm about making up a whole scenario in which he made out with his best friend for your liking.
You purse your lips, taking a deep sigh. What did you see in this boy?
“Mattheo.”
“Yes love?”
“I’m going to kill you.”
“Can’t do that love, you wouldn’t kill your boyfriend.”
You continue to glare at the boy, fingers gripping tightly around your wand.
“Easy there, pretty,” Mattheo laughs nervously, slowly edging closer to you with a bashful grin.
“You better have thought this through Riddle. Because I’m telling you right now, that this is a bad idea.”
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It was too easy. You know that much clearly. The two of you, you and Mattheo that is, walk silently along the streets of Hogsmeade, your friends surrounding you, shielding you from the brisk winter air. Mattheo's arm is wrapped securely around you, hand tucked into your jacket pocket, your fingers intertwined. It was so warm. So comfortable. So effortless, as if you had spent forever with his hands in your pockets.
Blaise and Daphne had been the only ones to know of your secret feelings towards your best friend, yet not a single one of the others looked particularly shocked when the both of you showed up in the common room wrapped in each others arms one night.
“Bout bloody time,” you’d heard Theo grunt to Draco from across the fireplace.
Daphne of course had been utterly elated for you, and Blaise had made sure you knew that there were no hard feelings about switching dates for the ball. Especially after he had secured one Miss Luna Lovegood as his date with the surprising help of Mattheo.
A warm squeeze of your hand shakes you from your thoughts as your group comes to stop outside of The Three Broomsticks.
“You sure you don’t want to come down to the shops, y/n?” Daphne asks looking back at you as she forges on with Astoria and Millicent.
“Bloody hell, yes! She’ll be fine with me. You can’t have her to yourself all the time!” Pansy says with exasperation, shooing the other girls away and linking her arm through yours on your free side.
The bell above the door rings lightly as the rest of your group enters the warm tavern, Theo and Enzo racing to secure your usual table.
“Hey Matty!” A voice shouts, stopping your trio in your tracks.
You turn to see another booth filled with familiar looking Hogwarts students and recognize one of the girls you’d watch Mattheo reject just a few days ago.
“Come sit with us,” she continues, attempting to wave him over.
Pansy gives the girl a sneer as you walk past, Mattheo not even sparing a glance in their direction.
“Don’t even know the bloody girl’s name,” he mumbles under his breath, causing you to let out a soft chuckle.
“Ey, what’s the hold up?” Theo shouts as you all hurry over to the table.
“Bloody hell. I thought y/n being my girlfriend would finally get those birds to back off,” Mattheo complains as he takes his seat in the booth.
His arm remains wrapped securely around you the entire time, sending warm tingles through you. It’s all an act, you have to remind yourself, pulling yourself out of your head.
Draco snorts at Mattheo’s grumbling.
“Half the school already thought you two were dating. Didn’t stop em then, so I don’t see why it’d stop them now.” He says matter of factly as the rest of the group nods in agreement.
“You lot are so dramatic. No one thought we were dating,” you sigh, rolling your eyes at your friends.
Their eyes flicker awkwardly back and forth between the lot of them. “Right.” Pansy says finally, bringing an end to the silence.
You glare pointedly at the girl.
“I’m going to the loo. Order me a butter beer Matty?” You say, standing up abruptly.
“I’ll come,” Pansy says quickly, going to rise as well.
“It’s fine Pans. I’m a big girl. Promise not to get attacked by a troll or nothin,” you say with a smile.
Mattheo opens his mouth to protest before closing it again and giving your hand a tight squeeze.
You make your way through the maze of tables, finally making it to the ladies room. Making a beeline to the sink, you take a breath, letting cool water splash against your face.
Salazar, you needed to get a grip. But everything about being with Mattheo felt so real. So natural. Which just meant it would feel all the more real when things ended. You take another moment to gather yourself, dabbing any remaining bits of water from your face. As your hand falls on the door handle to make your way back however, loud voices fill the hall.
“I don’t know what he sees in her,” a voice practically snarls. You can practically feel the malice, dripping from their lips.
“So it’s true then? Mattheo is taking that girl to the ball?” Another voice asks.
“I heard they’re dating.”
“They weren’t already?”
“I wonder if he’s taking her out of pity.”
A chorus of voices all say at once.
You immediately bristle, realizing they were talking about you.
“I hear she was the only one in their group who didn’t have a date and she practically forced him to take her.”
“I thought she was going with Blaise.”
Bloody hell. Where did they get all of this information?
“Whatever. It’s not like it matters either way. There’s no way they last. She’s a mess, and Mattheo has never been able to settle has he? It’s only a matter of time.”
You feel a deep frown form at the harsh words, but before you’re able to react, the bathroom door is pushed open and you’re face to face with the group of girls from before. The girl you had recognized as Mattheo’s reject smirks as she eyes you up and down before simply pushing past you. The rest of the girls follow, leaving you to wander back to your friends.
When you sit down again, Mattheo has a warm drink already waiting, and you let out a small smile as you cozy up next to the boy. No matter how hard you try to distract yourself however, the words of the girl’s echo through your mind.
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Later that evening, you lay comfortably in bed with your head resting gently on Mattheo’s chest, hypnotized by the slow rise and fall. You hadn’t seen your roommates all day, and doubted they would be back if they weren’t there by now.
You lived for nights like these when Mattheo would bow out of whatever mischief Theo and Enzo had cooked up, and instead spend the evening holed up with you cuddling, talking, or getting into your own trouble. Your room had become a safe haven. A sacred oasis of sorts for the both of you to unwind, safe from the outside world.
“You were awfully quiet today at The Broomsticks.” Mattheo says, breaking the silence.
You only hum in response.
“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”
“How are we going to break up?” You ask, rather abruptly, as you look up at your best friend.
Mattheo looks surprised at the question.
“I don’t know. Didn’t really think I’d get this far in my scheming to be quite honest. I suppose I figured we’d just say that we figured we’d be better off as friends, or something of the sort. You can blame the split on me though if you’d like.” He replies.
You move your head to look down once more, picking at the blankets.
“No, no. The friends thing is fine. When should we do it?”
“Trying to get rid of me already, love?” Mattheo asks with a laugh.
“I just want to know what to expect.” You say quietly, causing Mattheo to grow quiet as well.
“Alright. Then how about a few days after the ball? We say that the dance made us realize we were better off as friends, and everything goes back to the way it was.” He says finally.
You feel your heart crack at his words.
“Yeah. Exactly like how it was.” You repeat.
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Smoothing your dress out one final time, you turn around to hear Daphne gasp.
“Oh that’s stunning,” she gushes, her own deep blue gown cascading elegantly around her in waves of silk.
You’d spent the last several hours or so in her and Pansy’s shared dorm getting ready for the ball with the other girls, though where Pansy had wandered off to you had no idea.
All you knew, was that you were bloody nervous. You didn’t think you would be. It was just like any other night you reasoned. You and Mattheo were with each other constantly. What difference did a pretty dress make?
“I think the boys are ready for us whenever we are. Toria, come get these shoes,” Daphne shouts.
Astoria really did look like a princess you think to yourself, her soft yellow gown billowing gently with every movement.
“Ready to go down?” She asks, seeming to float over.
“As I’ll ever be,” you respond with a nervous smile.
Giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze, Astoria slips on her shoes before making her way down to the common room, you and Daphne following close behind.
The boys are already congregated by the fireplace; their loud chattering could be heard across the room, but as soon as Theo’s eyes meet Daphne’s he freezes and the rest of the boys quiet down, noticing the shift.
Your eyes lock onto Mattheo’s and you slowly make your way over, nervously picking at your skirt with trembling fingers.
“Beautiful as always, y/n,” he says, smiling down at you when you finally reach him. Gently, he raises your hand to his lips, barely grazing over your shaking fingertips before looking back at you with his signature smirk.
“Where’s Draco?” You ask, not quite able to stomachs the intensity of his gaze.
“Had to be there early. Something about the champions and their dates having the first dance or something,” he replies easily, his hand finding its ever familiar place on your waist.
“Oh we are not missing that,” you say, your nerves quickly being replaced with excitement.
Mattheo grins back. “I knew we’d be on the same page,” he responds, tugging you towards the doors.
Together, the both of you rush to the main hall just in time to see Harry and Draco getting herded into a lineup of the champions to be paraded into the Great Hall.
“I certainly hope he took Snape’s dance lessons to heart,” you giggle.
It doesn’t take much longer for the rest of your group to join the both of you and soon enough you find yourselves following the flood of students into the newly decorated Great Hall.
It really was spectacular. The house elves clearly had spared no expense with thick, green trees covered in tinsel and ornaments lining the walls. Floating candles cast a warm glow about the room and the floor had the appearance of being covered in freshly fallen snow.
You watch, hiding a laugh, as Draco and Harry move awkwardly around the dance floor, almost colliding with Cedric and Cho on more than one occasion. Salazar help them.
Slowly, other couples begin to join the champions on the dance floor, swirling together in a sea of shimmering color.
“May I have this dance m’lady?” Mattheo asks with a lopsided grin.
Before you even have the chance to respond however, Mattheo is pulling you onto the dance floor, a look of pure delight across his face. There were very few times you remembered him looking this happy, and it melted your heart.
As the night progressed, Mattheo refused to leave your side, his hand rarely leaving your waist. Really, you hardly left the dance floor either. The few times you were able to escape with Daphne or Pansy to the punch bowl, Mattheo tracked you down shortly after, pulling you right back into his arms.
To say that you were in heaven was an understatement. You had spent hours daydreaming about what it might be like to have Mattheo’s hard-won affection to yourself. And now that you had it, you were practically floating. Which just made it all the more heart wrenching as you anticipated the inevitable. It was as if every move you made, every dance the two of you shared, was done with your hands tied.
People really weren’t going to believe your break up if he continued on like this, you’d thought at some point. But you couldn’t quite bring yourself to tell him to back off, especially as it grew later. Your time with him was fleeting after all.
“Bloody hell, Matt. Give the girl some breathing room,” Pansy exclaims after Mattheo had sought you out for the third time.
Mattheo just gives her a guilty grin before spinning you out onto the dance floor once more.
“I didn’t realize you liked dancing this much Matty,” you tease as the two of you away slowly on the floor.
“Oh I don’t. Just making sure I take full advantage of the night,” he replies, looking intently down at you.
You cock you head to the side.
“With you as my girl, I mean,” he adds. And before you’re able to put together another cohesive thought, his lips are on yours. In the middle of the dance floor.
Immediately it feels as though the lights had gone out, leaving the two of you alone in the room as you let your eyes flutter shut, focusing on the softness of Mattheo’s lips on yours. They move slowly at first. Carefully. Before quickly growing hungrier, more determined.
You barely register Mattheo’s fingers digging into you as he pulls you closer, and find yourself lost in the gentle sway as everything around you burns to the ground, leaving behind a fire growing steadily in your chest.
And just like that, you’re back in Mattheo’s arms as the water comes rushing in, jerking you back to reality. You stand frozen staring up at Mattheo as couples continue to move around you.
Had that really just happened?
“Um- fresh air. I think.” You stutter out, all but dragging the boy from the dance floor, praying no one had seen or noticed.
Mattheo wordlessly allows you to lead him out to the courtyard entrance before you all but collapse on one of the stone benches, still in shock.
“Please don’t avada me! I didn’t think that through entirely.”
“I don’t want to break up.” You say in unison.
“What was that?” Mattheo asks in surprise.
“No- hold on. Why in Salazar’s green bed sheets would I want to avada you?” You ask incredulously.
“More importantly, you don’t want to fake breakup?” Mattheo asks with a grin.
“Of course I don’t want to break up! I’ve fancied you for years!” You blurt out, slapping a hand over your mouth as soon as the words escape.
Mattheo looks at you with shock.
“No. I’ve fancied you for years. Why else do you think I refused to take anyone else to the ball?”
“Because you’re a stubborn arse,” you retort, barely processing the boy’s words.
He liked you?
The two of you stare at each other for another moment, still not fully believing the other as your minds race to put the pieces together.
It’s Mattheo who acts first, surging to connect your lips once more in a heated frenzy. It’s addicting really, the feeling of his soft lips against yours. The pull as he brings your bodies closer together. The warmth you can feel radiating off of him.
When you finally pull away this time, Mattheo’s eyes are shining down at you with that familiar intense gaze.
“We’re a pair of oblivious idiots, aren’t we?” You mumble, leaning into the boy.
“Well, you are. I haven’t exactly been subtle.” Mattheo replies with a snort, hugging you to his chest.
“Don’t be a twat. You’ve had girls fawning over you for years. What was I supposed to make of that?”
“I never looked payed them any mind, love. Think of it this way. I’ll just have years to make up for tonight,” he says with a cheeky smile.
You feel a familiar heat begin to rise in you once more as Mattheo takes hold of your arm, leading the way back to the dungeons.
“Oh I’ll hold you to that,” you reply, a mischievous smile making its way to your face.
“Wouldn’t expect anything less of you, love.”
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justreadingfics · 2 months
Text
Sensitive Topic - A "Looking For a Heartbeat" One-Shot
Words: 4k+
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: Six years have passed since Bucky and you got back together. You are married and you’re pregnant with your second child. Everything’s great. Until a very sensitive topic from your past comes back to haunt you.
Warnings: 18+, Smut, Jealousy, Angst, Fluff, Mention of Past Relationships, Part of a Series, Pregnancy kink, Pregnancy sex.
Based on this request: Smutty idea:
Sometime after they got back together, Reader goes through a brief period where she feels insecure about Bucky and Anna's past relationship and intimacy, so Bucky shows her all the ways in which he only ever touched and made love to Reader, not Anna.
A/N: Thank you Anon for the request/idea (sorry for taking so long), and thank you @flordeamatista for being such an amazing beta.
Masterlist
Series Masterlist
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It's been six years.
Six. Fucking. Years.
You keep telling that to yourself, sitting on the couch of your shared apartment, running your hand with a wedding ring over your swelling belly.
You are married and pregnant with your second child with him.
And he loves you.
You.
So why the hell is your mind drifting back to that particular topic… that very sensitive topic, making your nerves burn with that twisted little feeling in your gut?
Jealousy…
Maybe you can blame it on the mess of hormones you’ve been going through. You don’t remember being quite like that when you were pregnant with Summer, your first child. The mood swings weren't constant then.
This second pregnancy, though, has been all about feelings swirling inside you unbidden. One second you could be laughing and dancing with Summer at one of her cartoons, the next you would be bawling your eyes out at the same fucking cartoon.
All of your feelings are mixed up. This one right here being the newest addition to the pack.
And it sucks. It so fucking sucks.
10 minutes before…
A light humming escapes your lips as you set the lemonade jar and glass on the trail. A smile plasters  your face as you grab the set and head towards the new room.
The new baby’s nursery.
Your second daughter. 
Well, he doesn't know it's a daughter. With Summer, your first, he chose to discover the sex, while you preferred to wait. Now he chose otherwise while you knew the sex. 
You can't wait to see his face when he sees a baby girl. He’s such an amazing dad to Summer and already is for this one, whose name you still must figure out. You have yet to talk about the options, but between your work with the Avengers and his own as a stay at home dad (as he so proudly likes to call himself), time is short. Just now, he’s taking the little time Summer is at School to work on the new nursery.
Jesus, that firecracker of a girl is already a handful.With two of them, what are you and Bucky going to do? The thought makes you smile fondly.
Your memory flashes back to six years ago, when you were preparing lemonade for Bucky and Steve, who were working on Summer's bedroom.But that time you weren’t married still. 
God…you had no idea what you two were at that time, practically living together, pining for each other like crazy, but none of you daring to step further, too scared to do so.
The memory makes you smile harder. You almost kissed him while he felt Summer kicking, placing his hands on your belly for the first time… only to be cockblocked by Steve…
Now, looking at the life you two have built together, that time seems like it happened ages ago. Another life. You know now that everything happened as it should be and you’re exactly where you are supposed to be. 
With him and your little family.
And well, no Steve this time, you chuckle to yourself pushing the door to the nursery with your elbow.
The view before you makes you suck in the chuckle down your throat.
Bucky.
Your husband.
Shirtless.
Sweaty back to you as he’s up on a ladder, finishing to stick the teddy bear’s wallpaper. Pants hang low on his slim waist. Back muscles flex with the movement of his arms.
His fucking hair half loose half pulled back in a high bun. Like a damn warrior… an extremely hot one.  
Goddammit.That man knows how to make your throat dry and you breath hitch without even trying. A sweet little coil twists your belly and lower. The tray feels heavy in your hands while your thoughts turn into images of you running your tongue up the muscles of his back to his neck, wrapping your arms around his broad frame and feeling his warmth against yours.
That’s when it hits.
And everything shifts.
Did she ever do that to him?
Did she ever touch him like that?
Did he like it when she touched him?
The mere thought is unbearable, agonizing.Cold lodges in your chest, freezing out all the growing heat you just felt. 
You don’t wait to see if he knew you were there before you leave the tray on the working table and head to the living room with heavy feet to sulk on the couch where you are now.
Fuck. 
You’re sure the trip down to memory lane ended up driving your thoughts to her.
Anna.
You haven’t thought of her in ages. The woman Bucky was in a relationship for the first months of your pregnancy with Summer. As much as it hurts to admit and remember, he wasn’t there with you then.
He was with her.
But in all honesty, you know you have no reason to be thinking of her now or to be feeling like you are. You and Bucky have been through so much to get where you are now and you love each other. 
He loves you and only you, there’s no doubt of that.
Reason, however, is not what’s guiding your feelings now and bile rushes up your throat at the intrusive images of them touching each other. Of him touching her in a way he touches you now.
She got to see him, hold him, touch him. He touched her. You can't get rid of the thoughts.
He had sex with her.
The two of you have talked about his relationship with Anna, but you never actually got to that specific topic. He hasn't spoken out loud, and you haven't pushed it with him.
But you knew, of course, you knew. 
After all, he was trying hard to make things work with her. And she’s a woman, a beautiful one, and he, well… he’s simply the type of man no woman would kick out of their beds, especially if they’re in love with him like she was.  
Your jaw clenches, but you don’t need to turn your head towards the entrance to know he’s there. Don’t need to look at him to know there’s worry etched on his face as he takes you in, sitting there blatantly ignoring him.
“Hey,” he’s smart enough to keep himself halted as he calls you with his soft voice, “Are you ok?”
“Yes.”
“Sweetheart…” He tries and you huff, turning even more away from him.
That’s when he can’t help himself and rushes inside the living room. Kneeling on the carpet right in front of you, he places his hands gently on your knees.
“What’s going on? Did I do something?” He pleads softly.
There’s a hitch on his tone that makes you finally look at him. His beautiful blue eyes are ​​focusedon your face, searching in almost desperation for any sign of what might be happening to you.
The anger you were feeling melts just like that.
“No, my love, no…” You sigh in almost defeat and your hand cups his face instinctively, caressing the light stub shadowing his jaw. You shake your head and then turn away from him, not bearing to look at him when you add, “It´s stupid… You’ll think I’m so stupid.”
“Well… Try me.”
When you glance back at him your eyes catch his bare chest and it’s her hand you picture running over his skin. Your jaw clenches at the offending picture in your mind and that fire, not the good one, starts burning again.
“Was it good?” You shoot.
“What was good?”
“With Anna.” You shift, making his hands drop from your knees.
“What?” He frowns and tilts his head at you.
“Sex with Anna… Was it good?” You keep the sharpness in your voice and cross your arms in front of your chest, staring right at him.
The frown deepens on his forehead and his lips part, as if looking for something to say and finding nothing. Sheer confusion twists his face.  
“Fuck…” You sigh, covering your face with your hands for just a moment before looking back at him, holding back the tears threatening to spill. “Forget it, it’s stupid.” You repeat, shaking your head.
As he stares back at you, the confusion on his features starts settling into something else.  Something you take as.. empathy?
“It’s not stupid if it’s making you feel bad.” He states matter-of-factly. 
“It's just the hormones.” You try to brush it off with a laugh but it just sounds forced, even to your ears. You look away.
But, apparently, Bucky’s having none of it.  There’s no trace of mock or amusement on him as he swiftly gets up to sit beside you, his front completely turned to you. Ever so gently, he takes your hands in his and places a kiss on the back of them. The sweet gesture makes your heart jump and you slowly shift to face him as well.
“Tell me what’s on your mind.” He asks, running his thumb over your hands, which he rests on his lap, linked to his.
His words come so naturally to him. Because that’s how it’s been now. You two talk. And it’s been the key to your happiness all these years. So you do just that. You talk to him.
“It’s just…” You look briefly to the floor before gathering the braveness to look back at him. “We never really talked about how far your relationship with Anna went. I know that you two cared for each other and I know. I swear I know that it’s in the past and you love me.” You make sure to make that very clear to him, before shrugging, “But I– Fuck– Something made me think of it, just now, and I kept thinking about you two…”
You take a deep breath. His soft eyes on you the whole time, his willingness to listen prompting you to speak, “You two in bed together… I kept wondering what it really meant for you. How did it happen? How did you feel?.Was it good? I mean–she’s beautiful and–Shit,” You curse under your breath, interrupting your blabbering for a second with a shake of your head, “I know it doesn’t make sense. I’m so-”
“Hey. hey,” He cuts you in, softly squeezing your hands before you could blurt out an apology. “Have I ever told you how I felt when you brought Harry over for that first time? Steve’s birthday, remember?”
You cock your head at him. Almost amused by the absurdity of you and Harry - the man you met at a supporting group - being anything more than friends. Even before you found out he and Natasha had hooked up (and then married), you had never seen Harry like that. You had a suspicion Bucky had been a little jealous back then, but you never really talked about that either.
“Harry? Are you serious?” You ask. A little smile on your lips.
“Dead serious,” he admits, nodding, “I wanted to kill the bastard. I felt like shit. And, honestly, it took me a long while to get over the feeling, even when I found out the guy was head over heels for Nat.” He blows out a puff of air, “Trust me, I understand.”
You let out a breathy smile. He smiles too.
But it's brief.  
“I did have sex with Anna when I was with her.” He estates, his face serious again.
Your jaw clenches, the small amusement from seconds earlier vanishing into the air. You know that. It’s the whole reason for that conversation. But that doesn’t make it easy to hear it from him.
“You ask me if it was good?” He continues when you don’t say anything, “When I had sex with Anna, it was always an attempt at something. Trying, trying… It was always something like… an effort.”
You gulp at the admission, and he shrugs, not once avoiding your gaze, “It never felt…” He sighs, searching for the word. “Natural. It never felt natural. So, no. I don’t think good really applies to what it was. Not really. It may make me a jerk to say it, but that’s the truth.”
You have no idea what to say to him. All of a sudden, you wish you hadn’t started that conversation at all. You feel like he’s just revealed something you should be satisfied with, happy even.
But you don’t really know how it makes you feel.
If you would guess, you would say you feel sorry for himand her, even. How hard it must’ve been. To be in a relationship meant and designed in every aspect to make one of them forget someone else.   
“And that’s because it wasn’t you.”  
As he whispered his words, your breath caught. He reaches his hand, running the back of his fingers over your cheek. You lean against his touch. You have no idea why, but right now you feel so glad you’re here with him, like this. That horrible time in the past. 
“It could be her or anyone else. It would never mean or feel like it is with you. And it would definitely never be as good. Not even close.”
He holds your stare and you do it back. So many feelings, so much has gone between you two. Good and bad. All so you could live your love as you can today. He’s looking at you as if he’s feeling all that, too.
And he’s as glad as you are.
“I fucking love you.” His jaw clenches, as if the words come out of him filled with some kind of deep force.
“I love you.” You take in a shuddering breath, letting the mighty power those words carry rush over you.
He shifts on his seat and something in his gaze changes. Just like that, the atmosphere turns into something else.
Oh.
Oh.
The hormones inside of you are quick to notice the change as something you can only describe as a burning flame twists in your lower belly. You bite your lip, looking down at his. So soft. So lust and delicious.
So yours.  
Before you could even think to lean in, he swiftly grabs you and puts you across his lap.
“It’s like my body was made for you.” His voice is low as his hold on your waist tightens. “You drive me fucking crazy… the way you smell…so good.”
He tips his head to run his nose over the dip between your neck and shoulder. Taking in and relishing in your scent.
Your eyes flutter.  Your core cries for attention as you feel him already hardening against your ass.
“That thing you do with your fingers on my neck.” He grabs your hand to place it on the spot he just mentioned. You promptly do that little move you know he’s crazy about.
“Yeah, fuck,” he whispers and places a kiss on your neck, making a shiver run down your spine.
“Bucky…” you plead.
“The way you ride me.” He ignores your plea and keeps running his lips on your neck between words. 
Desirous words that make your mind spin. “You sound so beautiful when my cock is inside you. Your fucking breasts...”
He shows you his meaning by grabbing a handful of one of your breasts through your dress. It prompts a whimper out of you and your fingers dip into his locks, undoing his bun in the process.   
“God you’re fucking sexy, I have to hold myself back sometimes when there’s people around…But there’s no one here… Right, sweetheart?” His voice turns infinitely lower as his metal hand snakes under your dress.
That morning you had decided for a simple short tank top dress with a loose fitting to prepare yourself for the heat you’ve been feeling all the time.  You had no idea how much it would come in handy.
Fuck. 
You want him so damn much. So damn much it’s burning you. But the bastard, the bastard, keeps his touch under the skirt almost chaste, just massaging the skin and flesh of your thighs.
Not being able to hold yourself any longer, you turn his face to yours  and grab his lips in a kiss. The movement is harsh, almost violent. Pouring all your need and desire for him in there.
Responding to the kiss with the same ferocity, bucky fiercely moves your hips with his metal hand and grounds you against the hardness beneath you.
“Do you see what you do to me? Huh?” His voice is hoarse against your lips. His hand moves with you, but he doesn't really have to make any effort as your body moves on its own accord, grinding itself against his.
Longing for a breath, his lips part from your as he leans his forehead against your, “Is it like that for you too? Tell me you want me as much as I want you. All the fucking time.” He grits out.
Words evade you as your hips keep moving against him, chasing a release for the burning sparkles inside your core. So, as a way to show him, you grab his flesh hand under your dress and move higher, moving it under your underwear.
You’re soaked.
He lets out a harsh groan and you bet it’s pure primal instinct when his fingers start to move against your most sensitive spots. 
Moaning at the sensation, you bring your arms around his neck, and work on kissing every little piece of him you can reach. His ears, cheeks, temple, lips, neck, his touch is so right. Just where he knows drives you crazy.
God, you love how much he knows you.
You roll your hips in a frenetic rhythm, practically riding his hand and feeling how impossibly harder he’s getting beneath you.
As if he’s feeling the exact same thing, he lets out a guttural groan, “I love you. I want you so much.” His voice rasps as he leans back to look at you. “You’re gonna come for me.” He states rather than ask, and fuck if don’t almost melt at the mix of dominance and desperation of his tone.
You grind harder against his hand, ragged breaths slipping out of your parted lips while you stare right back at him.
“I need to feel you, I need to see you, fuck– I need you.” He pulls down the straps of your dress, leaving your dress bunched up in the middle and baring your breasts for him. He lets out a satisfied hum before dipping his head to suck at one of them.
You let out a loud moan and you arch against his lips with the intensity of your climax, that comes without warning.  This only prompts Bucky to suck your breasts harder, going from one to the other with ravenous appetite while you come undone around his fingers
In a reflex, you quickly pull his hand away, the sensations too much, and drop your body limp against him.
You stay like that, sucking in some much needed breaths inside your lungs as he lazily kisses your bare shoulders, wrapping his arms around you.
It’s only instinct, primal and hungry instinct, when you start moving your body, grinding against his hardness, even if the angle of you sitting across his body just doesn’t allow you much. 
“Hmm…” His hands travel around over you, “Do you want my cock, babe?” He offers in a sultry whisper.
“You did say something about riding.” You manage to let out between your still panting breathing.
He chuckles and bites his lower lip as, in a swift move, you adjust yourself on his lap, facing forward, while your back is to his chest.  
Both of you don’t want to waste any time, so, as you lift a little to pull your underwear to the side, he makes quick work of pushing down his pants. What a sight it is to watch from behind you his thick and hard cock bobbing against his stomach.
He catches your hungry stare and makes a show of giving it a few bumps, “Come and get it. It’s all yours.”
You don’t need to be told twice before you align your entrance to his tip and, with his help, make your descent to sit on him again.
Your eyes shutter and your lips part at the familiar stretch, “Goddammit you feel good.” You breathe, already bringing your hand to circle your clit as you feel him bottom up.
Bucky huffs through his teeth, “Right back at you, honey.” He circles his metal arm around you, grabbing a handful of your breast, as you start moving.
“Fuck… Yeah, baby, that’s it.” He praises, kneading the soft flesh in his hand as you pick up your rhythm.
You're a mess at this point, your dress is a mess, your body is a mess, but you don't care, all you can feel is his cock inside you and your hand on your clit.
All you can listen to is his loud moans mingling with your ragged pants as you ride him hard and fast, your ass bumping against him while he runs his tongue over your back.
You cry out and your pace falters at the electric sensation of your pleasure. “Bucky,” you let out a vicious sound when your second climax reaches you like a wave, making your legs tremble. Your pussy clenches around him.
“Oh, God,” he reacts at the gripping sensation, and you deliberately do it again, just because he sounds so beautiful, “Oh God, oh Baby… Yeah, fuck, just like that.” Between the blabbering words, he takes control of your hips, moving you wantonly around his cock. 
It doesn’t take long before he’s spilling his release inside you, groaning harshly and dragging sloppy open mouth kisses over your shoulder.
You lazily roll your hips around him to drag out the pleasure for both of you before you cease the movement and rest your back fully against his chest. He keeps himself inside you while wrapping his arms around your middle. Sighing, he draws slow circles over your belly.  
You’re the first to gather the force to speak, “Fuck, that was…”
“I know, fuck… I know.” He agrees, a tad breathless, “You’re the only one who ever made me feel this way,” he adds, still moving his hands around you and kissing your neck from behind you, like he just can’t get enough. A warm sensation settles inside you.
“You’re the only one I ever wanted.” He nuzzles your neck, “Always. No one can compare.” He sounds so honest, a deep and desperate kind of honesty that makes your heart swell with love for him.
You tilt your head so you can look at him. He halts from ravishing your neck to look back at you.
“I know, baby,” You assure, staring deeply into him. You need him to be sure of that, “I love you. You’re the only one I ever wanted, too. Always.”
You lean in and kiss him. Not that desperate and needy kiss from before, but one of love, devotion, peace and assurance. Everything you want you two to have in your relationship.
And you do.
He sighs through the kiss, as if he felt everything you put in there.
That’s when the caressing on your body, your legs, your belly intensifies.
You break the kiss and lift an eyebrow at him when you feel his cock hardening inside you again.
The sheepish look on his face is almost comical. “You look so beautiful when you’re pregnant. And I had to keep my hands to myself last time.” He pouts, before his lips twist into a naughty smile, “Literally”.
A breathy laugh slips out of your lips and, despite yourself, a tight kind of want starts pooling in your lower belly.  
He seems to sense that, as something dangerous laces his chuckle, “That firecracker of our daughter will be at school for a little longer, we’ve gotta make it count, beautiful.”
You don’t even have the chance to yelp before he easily handles you and you find yourself out of the sofa and on your all fours over the carpet. 
And once again he shows you how much he wants you.
Only you.
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andvys · 1 month
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Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.
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Chapter two ⭐︎ I want you to notice, when I'm not around
Warnings: angst! mean!Steve, unrequited feelings, one sided feelings, mentions of Steve being in love with Nancy, mentions of death, allusions to suicidal thoughts, mentions of weed and alcohol
Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader
Word count: 4k
Author's note: I promise, it's gonna get so much better soon, get ready for some much more angst in the next chapter, it's gonna hurt. @hellfire--cult thank you for helping me as always, you're the bestest!!!
Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter ⭐︎ Next chapter
The living room is crowded, at least it seems that way to you. You aren’t used to being around so many people. You didn’t want to come here, but you had no choice when both Eddie and Robin had showed up at your house earlier today and practically forced you out of the house.
Now you sit here, sinking deeper and deeper into Steve Harrington’s couch, feeling uncomfortable and out of place. You’re playing with the loose string on the hem of your shirt as you look around the room. Robin is snacking on the m&m’s Eddie had brought as she’s looking through the pictures Jonathan had taken of her and Nancy just now. Eddie is out on the patio, smoking a cigarette and talking to Argyle who will leave for California in two days. Jonathan is staring at the screen watching some music video that is playing on the MTV channel, his pupils are blown and his eyes seem heavy, he is high out of his mind and for once, Nancy doesn’t seem to care, with her legs thrown over his thigh, she’s sipping on the beer that Steve handed to her a few minutes back, she is talking to Robin, unaware of the set of eyes on her. 
You restrain the eye roll as you look at him. 
Steve is sitting on the same couch you do, though with a big distance, you sit at one end and he on the other, far far away from you. You know he doesn’t want you here, you saw the look on his face when Eddie had dragged you into his house, a wave of something had washed over his face, something unpleasant, like he wanted to scrunch his face up in disgust at the sight of you – his mind had already erased your little moment at the Sinclair house, last week. Now you are back to normal. He made a comment, you made a comment and now you both sit there, avoiding each other like the plague. 
Secretly, you watch him though. 
Like you always do. 
And what you are seeing now, only fuels your annoyance and your wish to go home. 
The smile on his face that could never be directed at you, is directed at her. The love and the longing in his eyes that always lingers when she is around. She who had stolen his heart from the very first moment they saw each other. She who had always kept his heart even when she left him for the one she is smiling at now. She who will always be the one he will look at. 
You thought that he was over it, you thought that he was over her. But you were a little blind and maybe he was too when he told Robin that he was over her. He never was, he never will be. You saw the way he looked at her when she patched him up after he was attacked. You saw the way he looked at her in the RV. You heard the things he said to her, how he talked about his dreams that he surely saw her in by his side. 
You also heard the things he said about you when he thought that you were sleeping. You still remember how gut wrenching it felt to hear him say things about you to his ex-girlfriend. 
You huff in silence when his lips curl into a smile and his eyes light up when Nancy throws her head back in laughter. 
God, why are you even here? 
Eddie falls into the seat next to you, throwing his arm around your shoulder. It feels as though a cloud of smoke had followed him because suddenly, the smell of snacks, fresh air and beer is replaced by it, along with the smell of his cologne.
Right. You’re here because of him. You don’t know why he feels the urge to drag you along to every group hang out. No one wants you around, you don’t even think that Robin wants you here, she barely talked to you since you came here. And the longer you sit in Steve’s living room, with an untouched can of coke on the table in front of you, surrounded by people who most likely cannot stand you or your presence, you wish more and more that Jason should have dragged you down with him. 
You don’t belong here, you don’t belong anywhere. 
Eddie takes a look around before he turns to you, the smile still lingering, though turning into a softer one when he notices the frown on your face. 
“What’s wrong, sweets?” 
You shake your head a little, trying to give him a smile, “nothing.” 
“Are you feeling okay?” He asks, whispering. 
You wonder if that is the reason why he always wants you around, so he can keep checking up on you, so he can make sure that you are okay, that you are still alive and not lying in some ditch after pushing yourself a little too hard while still recovering from surgery. 
Does he care so much because he knows that no one else would? 
Or does he feel like he owes you something because you helped him when it wasn’t even asked of you? 
You nod, “yeah, I just don’t know why I’m here,” you whisper to him, subtly gesturing to this tight friend group that you don’t fit into. 
Eddie is new to this as well, but unlike you, he’s open and friendly with everyone. He surely isn’t as cheerful as he was weeks back. Just like you, he is still recovering, hiding his inner scars from the face of the earth but still, he is trying. Trying to fit into this, and for him, it’s working, for you? Not so much. 
“Well, you’re here because of me,” he grins, tapping your shoulder. 
You huff but smile, looking down at your hands. 
Yeah, you wouldn’t be here otherwise. 
Had you not gone on a walk that one afternoon a few weeks back, you would have never ran into him. Eddie who had been a wanted man at that time, Eddie who was hiding at skull rock, in drenched clothes and with clattering teeth as he shivered like crazy. You remember how scared he looked when you saw him, how he thought that you would rat him out because at that time, you were nothing but acquaintances to each other. – You bought from him a few times but that was all. He always tried to make small talk, throw a few jokes at you, but at that time, he barely got you to laugh. 
You didn’t believe the rumors on the news, not even for a second, not even when Chrissy used to be a close friend of yours. 
You decided to help him, not knowing what else you were getting yourself into, not knowing that it wasn’t just him involved in a world you hadn’t known of yet, at that time. You got him dry clothes, food and the walkie talkie he had begged you for. 
You never expected Steve Harrington and Dustin Henderson to show up moments later, though. And least of all, you hadn’t expected Max there. It felt like a surreal dream the moment they started explaining everything to you. The moment you found out the truth about Starcourt, about all the deaths in this town, about the lab, about Henry. 
You had only been allowed to be a part of it because of Max, because of your friendship with the girl you had grown protective of, because she let you help. 
The night in the upside down, the night at the Creel house led you here, into this friend group, into Steve’s house where you certainly don’t belong. 
You don’t know what that nagging yet empty feeling in your chest is, if it’s the trauma that is slowly catching up to you or if it’s from watching him watch her, or if you’re just simply having a bad day but it’s making you feel sick and restless, you want the ground to swallow you up. 
You muster up your greatest smile and flash it at Eddie, “yeah, cause you’re my very best friend.”
He snorts at you, hearing the sarcasm in your voice. 
“Your only best friend is Red.” 
You smile at his nickname for Max. 
“Hey Chica, do you wanna smoke this with me?” 
You don’t even pay attention or look up, not until Eddie chuckles and nudges your shoulder, raising his eyebrows at you to look up and when you do, you find Argyle looking at you with a dopey smile on his face as he holds up a blunt to you. 
Without thinking, you get up with a smile on your lips, “is that even a question?” 
It’s been a long time since you have had anything other than medication in your system, you are in dire need of something that will ease your mind and make you feel more than what you are feeling today. 
You fail to notice the disapproving look on Steve’s face, the way he tensely straightens up, slowly getting up as his brows knit together, more and more, watching in disbelief how you make your way over to Argyle. 
“What the hell, Blondie!?” 
His raised voice startles everyone in the room. Robin looks up from the polaroids in her hands, glancing up at her best friend who is staring at you with angry eyes. Nancy and Jonathan turn to look at Steve before they turn to look at what he is glaring at – or who he is glaring at. 
Argyle and Eddie turn to Steve with confusion on their faces. 
And you, you halt in your tracks, and turn back slowly. Caught off guard by the intense look on his face, you freeze. 
“Are you crazy?” 
You open your mouth to speak, though you shut your mouth again when you realize that these words aren’t directed at you, they’re directed at Argyle. 
“She can’t smoke or drink! Her doctor said it loud and clear, and I warned you before!” He points at him. 
You’re taken aback by his anger, by his words. The fact that he remembered when even you, yourself have forgotten about it. You hate the way your heart flutters at that, you hate the way it makes your stomach feel all tingly. You know that it doesn’t mean anything, just because he remembered. 
You see the way Argyle’s face drops and the way he smacks himself on his forehead, “I forgot, I’m sorry, man,” he looks at you, pulling away the blunt he was just about to give to you. “Sorry, he told me… I wasn’t thinking.” He whispers, a little uncomfortably as a funny look takes over his face. 
Steve warned him? 
“Dude, I forgot too, don’t worry about it,” you pat his arm, giving him an apologetic smile. “Don’t mind mother hen over there, he’s overreacting as always.” You say as though you don’t feel your heart racing over Steve’s outburst. 
“And you.” 
You instantly turn to face him, just like everyone else in the room who watches the scene unfold with curiosity and confusion on their faces. 
You meet his hazel eyes, the ones that are still raging. 
“Stop being so fucking careless!” He snaps, pointing his finger at you now. “You’re getting on my goddamn nerves.” 
He places his hands back on his hips, huffing loudly. 
Your cheeks flush under his gaze, you can feel them burning, your heart beating faster and faster. You don’t know how to feel but all you can think about now is the look in his eyes when he realized that he hurt you back at Lucas’s place the other day, the words he had said to you. 
Despite the giddiness inside of you, you hide your feelings behind a smirk. 
“Wow, you do worry about me, Harrington. You weren’t lying.” 
He squints his eyes at you, nodding at your words with another huff. He pinches the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. 
Everyone is looking between the two of you, waiting for the bickering to start, the way it always does, but Steve manages to bite his tongue. 
And you surprise the others by holding back your little remarks. 
“And fucking relax, leave Argyle alone, he isn’t responsible for me and neither are you, Lego head. Go and get high, you need to calm down.” 
Jonathan snorts at the nickname, he throws his head back, chuckling loudly as he mumbles ‘Lego head’. Argyle, who already had one too many drags of the blunt he passed around before, is barely holding himself together, threatening to burst into laughter too. 
Steve shoots Jonathan a glare, pointing at him to shut up. 
Nancy looks down, pressing her lips together with an amused look in her eyes. 
Eddie drinks his beer, hiding the smirk behind the can, scratching the back of his neck. 
“Sit your ass down, Blondie and drink your goddamn coke, don’t even think about weed or–”
“No weed, no beer, just fucking coca cola, got it, mom,” you roll your eyes at him and slump back in your previous seat, crossing your arms over your chest. 
He sighs loudly, sitting back down as well, he crosses his legs, giving you the side eye. 
“Goddamn brat,” he mumbles under his breath. 
“I heard that.” 
“Good,” he snaps at you. 
There is no tension in the room, not even awkwardness after this weird moment. If anything, everyone is still amused. 
“Always bickering like an old married couple,” Eddie snickers. 
Steve glares at him, and you, you would have dug your elbow into his side, but he is wounded and still healing. The band aids on his neck are the evidence that they are still bad. He is hiding him, and you wonder if he always will, you ask yourself if he will hide his pain the way you hide yours. 
You don’t even notice that Robin left the room, only when everyone moves on from what just happened and chatter fills the space again, do you take a look around. You furrow your brows when you find her spot empty. 
Argyle and Jonathan leave the room, stepping out into the garden with Nancy following close behind. 
“Are you still in for tomorrow?” You hear Eddie, directing his question at Steve. 
“Yeah, sure.”
You don’t bother to ask and find out what their plans are. 
Robin walks back into her room, with something in her hand. Her eyes are aimed at you, a smile on her lips when she walks towards you. She hands you a drink, a diet pepsi. 
“Here.” 
Your lips part as you stare at the can for a long moment, blinking. You tilt your chin up, looking up at her with big eyes. 
Her smile falls and a frown takes over, “shit, I thought you liked diet pepsi? Was it original?” 
You shake your head at her, taking the can from her hand, “n-no, it’s diet pepsi.” 
She paid attention to you. 
She smiles at you. 
She felt bad watching you sit there and being unable to drink beer or smoke weed with the others. And she remembers that you always asked for pepsi when you were still in the hospital, you hated the teas there and despised the fact that you were only allowed water. 
“I thought you liked coke, Blondie.”
Robin rolls her eyes at Steve. 
“It’s not my favorite,” you shrug, turning to look at him. “I prefer pepsi.” 
He squints his eyes at you, “so when you stole my coke the other day, you did it just to–”
“Get back at you, yeah. Cause you stole my coffee.” 
“When did he steal your coffee?” Robin asks. 
“When I came to family video to rent a movie–”
“Oh, you little liar,” Steve scoffs at you, “she did not rent a movie, she didn’t even come to look for one.”
A smirk tugs at your lips, if there’s something that you love more than the drink in your hand, it’s to get on his nerves. 
“Says who? I really wanted one but the customer service sucks when this one isn’t around,” you point at Robin. 
Eddie chuckles, turning to look at Steve who is glaring at you, before a smirk appears on his face, his hazel eyes twinkling with smugness. 
“You and I both know that you didn’t want to rent a movie, honey. You were there because you wanted to see me,” he says, cockily as he lets his eyes move from your face, down to your body and back up to meet your eyes. 
Your breath gets caught in your throat at the way he just looked at you. You don’t squirm in your seat, but you surely would if the others weren’t around. You grow flustered beneath his stare but you have come to learn how to hide it – Steve Harrington will never see you blushing over him. 
Maybe he was right, maybe you did just want to see him, because you always do, you always want to see him. No matter how much he hates you, no matter how much he despises you, you can’t help but want him, even if you continue to lie about it to yourself to stay sane. 
Steve Harrington had always been your demise – from the first glance. 
You couldn’t help but grow fascinated with him, watching him from afar with eyes the shape of your favorite sunglasses. You couldn’t help but care for him, even when he couldn’t stand you. 
Sometimes you feel like a creep, watching him and adoring everything about him, from his sun kissed skin, to his beautiful eyes, to his perfect hair, to that one smile that he blesses only those around him that he cares about – something that you will never get. 
Sometimes it’s hard to look into his eyes because every time you do look for a little too long, you feel like dying because suddenly, you see the world with different eyes, you see something beautiful, because he is in it and when you look away, when he is gone, it feels anything but.
Steve wouldn’t even bat an eye if you were gone. He wouldn’t even notice if you weren’t around. 
Suddenly, you feel overwhelmed by the way he looks at you, by his presence, by all of this. You are in his space, you are invading, his home, his friend group, his safe place. The reminder of it, that you don’t belong here, lies heavy on your heart and you feel the urge to run away but you cannot give yourself away so easily, knowing that it would be awfully noticeable if you suddenly left after what he just said. 
So you put on a mask, the way you always do. 
“If that helps you sleep at night,” you smirk, tilting your head at him, “I mean no one else would come to see you, I took pity on you.” 
He clenches his jaw, his smirk falling into a frown. 
“Keep your pity to yourself, Blondie. I’d rather never see you again than see you when I don’t have to.”
You know how he feels about you, you know what he thinks of you, yet every single insult, every jab at you feels like a punch to your gut. But this, this was a punch to your heart. 
You know he wouldn’t grieve you if you died at the Creel house, but to know that he might have felt relieved to never having to see you again, hurts you more than you want to admit. 
“What the hell, man?” Eddie snaps at him as his brown eyes fill with anger at his words. 
Robin rolls her eyes, shaking her head at Steve in disappointment. 
But he keeps his eyes on you, struggling to read you, struggling to look past that smirk that is still going strong. 
“Well, I’ll put you out of your misery, Lego head,” you say as you place the drink on the table before you get up. 
Robin furrows her brows, looking you up and down, “what are you doing?” 
“I’m leaving.” You try not to sound bitter or hurt. “I’m getting tired and I forgot my meds at home.” 
Steve looks away from you, feeling a rush of guilt. 
“I’ll drive you–”
You cut Eddie off, shaking your head at him, “no, I’m gonna walk, I need some fresh air.”
Eddie looks at you worriedly, “sweets, I don’t want you to walk by yourself.”
“Eddie, I’m okay, I don’t get dizzy anymore,” you say, trying to smile at him. “I promise, I’ll call you later tonight.” 
He still looks unsure, not wanting to let you go like this. 
But he can tell that you want to be alone, right now, so despite his worry, he leans back again and nods begrudgingly. 
“Okay..” 
You walk out of the room, biting back the bitterness on your tongue, trying to swallow down the pain. You rush through the hallway and open the door, you only manage to take one step out before you hear footsteps behind you. 
You roll your eyes, knowing that Eddie being the stubborn guy that he is will try to convince you to stay, but when you turn around, it’s not Eddie’s brown eyes that you find yourself looking into, it’s Steve’s and it catches you off guard a little. 
He stops in front of you, his eyes scan your face and he huffs a little when he runs his fingers through his hair. 
If you didn’t know better, you’d think it’s guilt and worry in his eyes. 
You hold onto the door, ready to escape whatever pain he will put you through again.
“Listen uh, that was mean,” he starts, now struggling to look into your eyes. He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, tugging at his hair. “I shouldn’t have said that.” 
You blink.
You swallow as you keep on looking at him with smugness, to hide the pain. 
“It’s okay, no need to hide the truth from me, you were just saying what you were feeling, right?” 
He opens his eyes and when he faces you again, he looks at you, really looks at you. He tries to find a hint of pain in your features or hurt in your eyes, but there is nothing. All he can see is the coldness in them. 
Nothing he could ever do or say would hurt you – at least, that is what he believes, what he always believed. 
“Right.” 
You bite the insides of your cheeks. 
“Good,” you nod and you tear your eyes away from him, unable to look at him any longer as you feel your heart cracking more and more.
“Y-You don’t have to go, Blondie.” He stops you once again, holding himself back from taking your hand. 
You slowly turn around and he still struggles to read you, even when you stop smirking, even when you only look at him with a straight face, not saying anything back. 
“But if you want to leave, no one’s gonna stop you.”
You see the indifference in his eyes, the coldness that is only there when he looks at you. 
Yeah, you know no one would. 
How can you care so much about someone that cares so little about you? 
How can you want him so bad when all he wants for you is to disappear? 
How can he worry one second and hate you in the other? 
How can you long for him after every hurtful thing that he said to you? 
You take a step away from him, blinking as you feel your eyes starting to burn. 
“Bye, Steve.” 
You turn around before he can even open his mouth, and you slam the door shut behind you because you don’t want to hear his voice. 
You walk away with tears in your eyes. 
You wish you didn’t come here today, every moment spent with him makes you want him even more, makes you hate yourself even more. 
You don’t go home, no, you can’t stand to be in a house that resembles nothing but loss. 
You turn the other way, towards Hawkins cemetery. 
You just need to vent. 
Even if only into the void. 
tagging only friends & mutuals
@prettyboyeddiemunson @mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @livosssblog
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nichuuu · 5 months
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Polyamorous - 1: Own
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Word count: 4k+ Thank you to @gangplanksorenji for proofreading & editing and @capslocked for the wonderful tips. Luv you guys < 3
Fuck. 
The expletive leaves your mouth right as Hanni’s tongue makes contact against the base of your shaft. She slides up, licking you up from base to tip. It was inane of you to think that the first thing a global icon like Pham Hanni would want to do after a long week was to take a shower, and you only realised this a second after Hanni dropped down to her knees and undid the string of your sweatpants, the former happening a meagre few seconds after she’d entered. Now here she is, her skin still glistening with sweat from her dance practice earlier as she lathers your shaft in spit. 
“Hello.” A simple greeting contrasts the intricate movements of her tongue, the one that swirled and curled around your shaft, slathering every inch of it in glossy, gooey spit. Her voice, her tone—every vowel, every consonant, every word (down to the last syllable), drips with lust. Well she’s needy today, you muse internally. As soon as she stepped through your apartment door, her hands were already on your waistband and chest, forcing the door shut with your body. The wantonness was ever so apparent in those eyes—the ones that looked up at you as she took her time to tease you. Through the jolts of pleasure that shoot up your spine, you manage a strained hey. 
A playful hand snakes up, grabs you by the balls. Her eyes gleam. 
“You’re full,” she comments. The hand begins a gentle massage of your low hanging fruits. “Been holding it in? To unload inside of you, is what you really want to say. Instead, what comes out is just a simple, raspy yep. The electricity in your veins overrides your brain’s functions, rendering you unable to translate your thoughts into words. The source of this problem is, of course, Hanni, but it's not as if she already knew the effect she had on you; the give away was the look of mischief on her face as her small hand wraps itself around your shaft, pumping with slow, teasing strokes as she let her breath linger around the head of your dick. The next question comes after she delivers a small kiss to your member: How long?
As her lips wrap themselves around you, your hands balled into fists against the door. She expects an answer out of you, but there isn’t much room for thinking when there’s a tight seal around your twitching shaft. For a moment, you think about just grabbing on tight to her skull and fucking her face right there and there. Why couldn’t you? Your shaft was already halfway into her mouth, your hands just centimetres away from her head, a simple motion—Reach forward, grip, thrust—was all you needed. But the control that Hanni has over you liquifies that desire, melting it into nothing but a puddle of a notion in your mind. 
“A-A week,” you miraculously manage to reply. Her eyebrows raise, your shaft sliding right back out of her mouth. The twitching meat rests against her cheek as she stares up at you. 
“A week?” Her lips pout as she speaks. You want those pouty, plump lips to shower your cock with kisses so badly. “You must have,” she slaps your head against the soft flesh on her face, “quite the load for me then.”
If she keeps this up, you have a feeling that the load she’ll get will be a lot bigger than what she expected. Of course, you keep this to yourself. You find it congenial to watch as she pumps your cock with your head resting against her cheek. 
“You know what I really want?” It’s a rhetorical question from her really. You knew exactly what she expected from the moment your dick came out of your underwear; I wanna bounce on your dick, I wanna take you in my ass, I want you to fuck me—All variations of the simple message: Fucking ravish me with your cock.
You know what she wanted, down to the last minute detail. Yet you shake your head. This is more than a simple test of your knowledge on her—it’s a game, a game to see who will follow who’s lead. Right now, it is Hanni who is in charge, this unspoken agreement made between the both of you from the moment she took your cock in her mouth. 
She rises from her knees, takes a step closer. Whispers, “I want you to fucking fill me.”
That’s a new one.
In your opinion, the cussing in the sentence was a bit excessive, but it doesn’t take away from the sheer intensity of the lust that bleeds through her words. Then she drags you by the cock, callous in her mannerism as she pulls you towards the couch. Barely ten minutes after she entered your apartment and she’s already getting right to it, and you are genuinely surprised that she didn’t begin her attempts to draw a thick load out of you at the door.
She tosses you onto the couch, then quickly takes her position between your legs. You have to remind yourself to breathe when those lips take you back into her hot, wet mouth; you force yourself to not break right there and then as she draws upwards with her lips and lets them slide over the head of your shaft. She was playing with you, toying with the rock hard meat between your legs to let the blood flow to all the right parts of your body. All you can do is let out a soft drawl—Fuck Hanni—as she slowly kisses up your shaft, doing what you wished she would do while you were still standing at the door. Her lips make contact with your dick more times than you can count. Her eyes sparkle, the corners of her lips upturned into an innocent smile. She’s intentionally breathing a little harder than usual, letting her breath tingle the head of your cock, 
The wink she gives you tells you that she’s about to take you for a ride. She doesn’t disappoint, the groan that rips through your throat being the sordid tell that she’s off to a great start. She lets her lips travel down your length—further and further till she realises that she can’t go down anymore, retraces her steps, goes down again. All of this is rinsed and repeated (and it isn’t done slowly, mind you) as drool accumulates on your cock, the fervent gurgling that emulates from the depths of Hanni’s throat telling you that she’s perfectly fine the way she is. 
Then she adds her hand, fingers twisting around your slick dick in a corkscrew motion: pumping, stroking, fucking milking you to the best of her ability. She’s pushing you past your limits, overwhelming you with all the sensations she would wreak upon you with what she had available. Your first thought was to grab her by the wrist, pump your shaft even faster with those slender fingers, but then she reads your mind, doing it for you better and faster than you could ever imagine. It slides up and down, up and down together with her lips, spit smiling out between the gaps between her fingers. 
Hanni had given you head before (not that it did anything to blunt the utter pleasure that she was able to impart on your body) and it was always done in earnest. She makes it seem so effortless, smooth in her movements and consistent in speed. Many nights you’d receive head from her just like this, but the sight of that jet-black lock of hair bobbing between your legs, the sound of the lewd gurgling and slurping, the feel of that tight seal around your cock that was her lips… None of it ever got old. 
She kept it so fresh, so… Well, not exactly clean.
Your hand finds itself on the top of her head, the familiar motion of pushing down on it each time she bottoms out executed as you always did. Now, it should be noted that Hanni’s a very thorough person. When she cleans, she cleans thoroughly. When she examines, she examines thoroughly. And now, when she sucks dick, she sucks it thoroughly. Her mouth was warm, tight and so very wet. It slicked your shaft with spit, leaving a glistening trail that was repainted and retraced with even more of her saliva, plump pink lips cramming in every bit of cock that she could fit into that hot little mouth, and by god could take you in. 
Like you said—She was so very thorough. 
Her eyes—those dark brown orbs that reflected nothing but lust—stay trained on you, beseeching you to keep your attention on her as she slobbered on your shaft. Her tongue cushions your base, the top of her mouth directing your cock into her throat. She moves deftly, taking you in and out of that mouth with measure, fervent and pace. Hungry is your initial word to describe her, but then it quickly changes to needy, then to fervour. Finally, you settle on Impatient, because that was the best way to describe her style. 
She was always impatient. Her style was never a gradual ramp up in pace, but rather “fast and stay fast”. The word “”slow” didn’t exist in Hanni’s books, nor did the word “patience” (though you personally wished that they would sometimes). Every motion had to be done quickly and swiftly. There was no room for child’s play. Yes, she could tease. Yes, she could take her time if she really wanted to.  But there really was no need for all of that at the moment, not when she’s bobbing her head between your legs with such gusto.
The black locks bob rhythmically between your spread thighs (there’s no cessation to this allegro) as she takes your shaft in and out of the wet, warm cavern of her mouth, her tongue swirling around the sensitive flesh in random patterns, each entry and exit into her lips sending spikes of pleasure from your crotch to the rest of your body. Every so often, a moan would emit from the depths of her throat, sending pleasant vibrations down your shaft and up your spine. You grunted, groaned and sighed; she gurgled, gagged (every now and then) and hummed. The electricity that courses throughout your body is breathtaking. Now you start to think of a word to describe this feeling.
Heaven. Yeah, that was the word to describe it.
You never realise that your eyes closed themselves, but they snap open when your shaft leaves her mouth with a slick, wet pop. For a second, you thought that it was over. Then you realise that you’re far from callow when it comes to dealing with Hanni, and that she’s probably about to escalate things to another level. You’re only proven right when she wipes the spit from the corners of her mouth and rises to her feet. 
As she strips, you start to take back what you said about Hanni being impatient. To be clear, she was impatient a good majority of the time. Now however, she seemed to be in the mood for a little bit of slow play. Her baggy shirt slowly rises, the hem going past her waist, then her belly button—continues painfully slowly till you see the elastic band of the sports bra that she has on. Then with a grin, she slings it off her body. Her pants are next, displacing in the opposite direction as her shirt at the same, painfully slow rate. Bit by bit, layer by layer, her garments slowly come undone. It drove you to the brink of delarity. If it were up to you, you’d have stripped her, got her on her back with her knees against her shoulders and railed her till you both came in a sweaty heap–and she would’ve let you do just that, but you didn’t.
With a very slight sashay in her hips, she saunters over. She straddles you, thighs on either side of you as she settles down. Your cock nestled snugly in the space between those plump asscheeks, the ones that you lightly spank, then lightly squeeze. Now the formalities come back into play; her lips hover over yours for a brief second before they gently drop to meet yours. She kisses you, softly, gently. For a moment (and just that moment), you forget that she was creating a sloppy mess between your legs just mere minutes ago.
Her hand—It snakes through your hair, slides down to your face, cups if for a second. Then the other slithers up your chest, stopping right at the collar before it gently tugs at your shirt—Take it off, she’s telling you. 
Your hand—Lingers on the firm flesh of her asscheeks for just a moment more, then slides over to the hem of your shirt. The other one slips in, hoisting the thin fabric up and over your head. Then they skate up her sweat-slicked, tight body. They travel up in the same direction and slow fashion of her shirt just moments ago: slowly rising, going past her waist, then her belly button–Continues painfully slowly till you reach those soft, ample mounds that sit proudly atop of her chest. 
Then they squeeze.
Her body—It jolts as her breasts are given the attention they long for, a soft sigh leaving her lips. It leans forward ever so slightly, receives kisses from you on the jaw, then the neck. As it flushes against you, she whispers into your ear, “I’ve been waiting for this…”
Your thumb finds the sensitive nub on her opening. “Oh yea?”
“In the dorm…” she trails off for a moment when your thumb begins to rub her clit in small, circular motions, but then she gets back on track, “I always think about riding you till my legs give out.”
You could picture it clearly in your head: Hanni, curled up under her covers in the dorm, her hand between her flushed thighs and another over her mouth as she fingers herself. She moans your name silently, careful not to disturb the others with her raunchy fantasies. 
“What else do you think about?” You’re curious to know more.  
She falls silent for a moment, enjoying the feeling of your thumb entertaining her clit for just a second, then she says, you.
There it is: the shameless confession. For the record, you knew that she’d get naughty with herself while she was away from you, she sent you videos—that you could only view once—of her playing with herself in the bathtub of her dorm before. Sometimes, an exclusive video comes in; her leg would be on the bathroom counter, her phone in her right hand while the left works itself between her legs. Quietly and just for the camera, she’d moan your name, and it turns you the fuck on.
“And what exactly do you think of when you think of me?” you press. 
Another moment of silence. The admissions spew forth: I think about you folding me in half and fucking me. I think about you bending me over the kitchen counter. I think about you pinning me against the wall. I think about—
She would’ve gone on forever if it didn’t shut her up with a kiss. You consider the possibility that maybe, just maybe, she imagines all of this while dancing on stage in front of millions of fans, or when she’s in the practice studio learning the steps to the next big hit that they’re about to comeback with. The endless possibilities deluge your mind as you start bringing your kisses down to her jaw, then to her neck.
It's when your lips reach her collar bone that Hanni finally decides to let those hands snake down and grasp on to your cock. It’s when your sigh washes up against her skin that she raises herself up on her knees. She lines you up with her slit, letting you feel the heat of her womanhood as she gently grinds her pussy against the head.
When she sinks down, you feel like blacking out. The tightness, the heat… Fuck, you couldn’t even get started on how wet she is. Your fingers dig into the soft flesh of her small waist, a sharp exhale forced out of your lungs like a bullet; a guttural moan for Hanni. You’re in perdition barely a second after you get inside of her, and she’s sure as hell not giving you time to adjust. 
Then she’s riding you, fast and hard. Her hands grip your shoulders, her head tilted back. She barely gave you time to adjust to the tightness of the flesh around your cock before she’s moaning like her life depends on it. Your name—amongst the expletives and exclamations that tumble out of her mouth—rings clear in your ears, her arms wrapping around the back of your neck, holding you in place like her frenzied movements would make you start moving away. 
Then for the next few minutes, it’s just fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck that punctuates each entrance, the same lips that delivered the sloppiest of blowjobs just minutes prior parting to let such filth fly forth without much of a filter. She crushes those same lips with yours, kissing you vehemently, hungrily. You think for a second about involving some tongue, but that plan quickly goes to waste when her lips tear away from yours to let out another stream of gasps. 
She was so hot, so utterly tight and wet around your cock, her hips and thighs moving with such perfect rhythm that it was quite literally breath stealing. In the sheer intensity of it all, your hands stayed on her hips, but she grasps your left hand and brings it to a needy, bouncing breast, her fingers pulling yours around her tight nipple, closing around it and squeezing it, clutching the needy, wanton flesh and eliciting a sigh from her lips. She brings your other hand to her face, making you cup it in a tender, ginger fashion that heavily juxtaposes the raw sex that was happening in the midst of it. In a way, it was cute, but only a little. 
In the midst of the overwhelming intensity, you find her right breast, catch it mid bounce and send it straight into your mouth. What left Hanni’s mouth was not exactly a moan, but rather a mewl, one that was high-pitched and so erotic that you wished that you were recording this. Moan louder for me, Hanni is what you wish you could tell her while your mouth sucks on her tit, but alas, one mouth can only handle one thing at a time. You settle with the sighs and cries that make her sweaty chest vibrate ever so slightly, content with the way her voice was getting more and more hoarse from moaning by the second. 
She grips you–roughly–on the back of your head, fingernails digging into your skull as she forces your face deeper into her cute little chest. She’s trying desperately, licentiously, to push her mound deeper into your mouth. Then the other hand slinked to your neck, pushing it towards her while she let an even louder cry rip through the air. You ponder on being playful–deliver a small nibble to the flesh that had been impelled into your jaws, or maybe suck on it hard enough to mark it. But when the oh fuck I want to touch myself leaves her mouth, you decide to divert your attention to back to her clit. Your thumb takes its original position, the pad of your finger swirling it in just the right way to make the flesh around you tighten.
When your jaw gets tired, you let the glistening tit pop out of your mouth. “Fuck Hanni,” you decide to quip, “you’re taking this cock so well.”
Her eyes tear away from the ceiling—which she’d been staring at for the past minute or so—to lock on you. Then in a raspy, airy drawl, she replies—This pussy was made to take your cock.
She could be quippy when she wanted to, and she could definitely be overtly lecherous when she desired to. In this case, she’s a combination of both. The slight tinge of haughtiness in her voice tells you: This cock is mine and mine alone, and I’m gonna ride it till I cum. Then there was the generous dash of want in that honey-like voice that says: I love this cock, I love the way it fills me up and stretches me out. It’s gonna make me cum so fucking hard. 
A woman of multitudes is what she is, and sex only brings out a few of her many layers. As she bounces atop of you, taking your cock in and out of her hot, slick pussy while she moans and gasps and sighs, you realise how content you are with seeing this wanton, needy and dominant side of her. And as she starts going down on you harder and faster, you come to realise how hot this whole situation is. 
Cause picture it this way: A cute, bubbly and pretty Hanni, bouncing relentlessly on your rock hard length that’s slicked with her spit and juices, moaning fervently as she rides you like you’re one of her sex toys, her tits bouncing atop her chest and her thighs quivering around you. It was one of those nights that she felt like being in control, one of those nights where she really just wanted to ride out all of her pent up stress and frustration as she cries, I own this fucking cock. You were more than happy to be her outlet. 
“Oh fuck… Oh fuck, fuck, fuck.” That’s all she Hanni can manage as she starts going even faster, crashing down on you even harder. Her hands slip off your body, reaching behind her back and grabbing on to her ankles. She’s relying on her knees to hoist herself up now, and counting on your hands to hold her steady while she fucks herself on your cock. You’re relying on your self control to hold you back from cumming at the titillating sight. 
Her body—curves deliciously in this new position, her flat, toned tummy arching towards you and her head tipping back just slightly past her feet. She feels tighter, hotter, (and somehow) wetter around your cock, soft ‘ah’s floating out from that pretty little mouth. She’s playing with you once more, testing the waters to see what it’ll take to drive you feral. “You like my body don’t you? You’re… You’re so fucking turned on by this fucking body, right?”
“God yes.” 
“You wanna fucking ruin it so bad, huh?” She’s looking you dead in the eye. “Wanna get me on my back,” she bends back further, “and shove this thick fucking cock into this tight fuckdoll don’t you?”
You contemplate just hoisting her up into the air and making her ride you while you are standing, picturing the sight of her face dropping and rising in front of your face as the full length of your shaft spears deep into her tight and wet walls. But when… 
“But when” what?
Up till this point, there was always something stopping you from doing as you pleased. Now however, you couldn’t find anything to stop you from succumbing to your desires–and so you do, scooping your hands beneath that plump ass and rising to your feet. 
“H-Hey!” she yelps in surprise as she’s hoisted into the air. She was a lot heavier than she looked
“What’s wrong?” you challenged, adjusting your grip on her small frame to offer her better support. “Can’t own this cock while you’re standing up?”
She recognises the challenge, straightens her back before you. 
“I can own this cock in any position.” Her tone is unwavering, her ass shifting slightly in your grasp as her legs wrap themselves around you. A dark look crosses her face in the form of a bright grin. With the assistance of gravity, she lets herself fall slightly, rock hard meat driving straight up her hot, wet cunt. The wide-eyed, mouth agape complexion of surprise takes her face as she’s filled to the brim. A shrill, breathy cry shoots out from her chest; it’s music to your ears as you start thrusting upwards and into her waiting walls, the same ones that squeeze down harder around you as the head of your cock starts to knock against her cervix. 
Fuck, is all she can manage to get out before she’s throwing herself down onto your cock. She takes you in—down to the hilt, balls deep—hard and fast, not sparing a single second to catch her breath. Her moans are fragmented, split into different tones as she rises and falls on your dick—sometimes passionate and shrill, other times deep and guttural. She’s maximising her output energy for more pleasure, converting that pleasure into energy that powers the sinful rock of her hips each time she takes you in. Then she’s screaming: Oh god, Oh my fucking god, crying: You’re so deep. I can’t fucking take it!, gasping: You’re gonna–I’m gonna–Oh fuck I’m…
But it’s the declaration that really gets you, the one where she screams into your ear: Oh fuck, I’m cumming!
Just like that, Pham Hanni comes undone as she cums. The orgasm that cuts through her body is terrifyingly violent, but oh-so-wonderful to watch as tight, hot flesh spasms around your cock and that pretty little body convulses in your arms. For beautiful seconds, she is utterly overwhelmed by the sensations, until finally she slumps forward in your arms, breathing heavily. You take that moment of vulnerability to get her on her back, spreading her flushed, trembling thighs and pumping into her body once again. She lets you do that—not that she could fight it in her current state—as she wraps her arms back around your neck and whispers, “Be good… Fill me.”
Then nothing else matters for the next few minutes. Only Hanni’s body exists in the long minutes where you fervently pump your shaft between her legs. She looks so good beneath you, her pussy swallowing your cock whole and her tits spilling out through the gaps of your fingers because of how hard you’re holding on to them. Through her soft, horse moans, she eggs you on: Come on baby, give me that nice big load… Cum in me then fuck it deep inside of me. You know you want to. 
Then she pulls you close, breathing on your ear, imploring you, “Please, please, please cum inside your little fuckdoll… I want it so bad.”
And so you do—burying yourself as deep inside her as you can before finally letting the pleasure overwhelm you. Your cock pulsates as it fills with semen before spurting thick, hot ropes of cum deep inside Hanni’s tight, grasping pussy. She lets a soft moan escape her lips with each spurt, as though welcoming it, as though each one were something she long wanted and needed.
After you empty yourself inside her you withdraw your still stiff, cum-slick cock halfway out of her body before thrusting back in, letting your cock stir the load inside her, saturating her walls, making her already drenched and dripping pussy even more of a sloppy mess. She lets little sighs of pleasure and contentment leave her lips as you take your liberties with her hole, relishing the warm wetness of your cum inside her as you take your last few thrusts into her body, pushing the thick load that she’d been waiting for deep into her. 
You only ever stop moving after your arms give out. You crash atop of her, your ragged breaths hardly in sync with hers as you feel the soreness begin to creep up from your feet to your thighs. Softly, gently, she nuzzles herself into the crook of your neck and breathes, thank you.
You raise your head just enough so that your mouth is next to her ear. “Welcome back.”
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swallowedbymadness · 8 months
Text
♡ heavy on your tongue ♡
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Pairing: hongjoong x chubby!fem!reader
Genre: the fluffiest smut for all the softies out there
Summary: You unexpectedly show up at your best friend’s apartment one rainy October night with unspoken feelings on the tip of your tongue.
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Word Count: 4k
A/N: hiiiiiii! This is my first fic posted so I’m a bit nervous. Thank you to the very darling @babesindestroyland for your sweet words and encouraging me to post this. For the most immaculate vibes, listen to Mind Over Matter (Reprise) by Young the Giant. 18+ content beyond the line — No minors please. Enjoy! ✨
Warnings: Oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, and tooth rotting sweet romance 🥹
Proofread: Too many times to count bc I’m a perfectionist.
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The rain pattered loudly against the window of his apartment, the lights turned off so that the small flames of the candles melting slowly onto dusty wine bottles could dance against the brick walls surrounding the two of you. It had been three years since you’d seen Hongjoong. Friends that surely longed to be more, but it was never the right time.
Now...now was the time. You had decided this once you found yourself standing outside of his apartment one rainy October night. You weren’t sure why you were there, but you didn’t dare question it. He was your best friend, so why did it feel so foreign to be there?
With a sudden rush of adrenaline moving through your nervous veins, you find yourself knocking lightly on his door, rocking back and forth on your heels. When the door slowly swings open, you’re met with his dark hair hanging in his eyes, the round metal frames adorning his face that were entirely too big and hung low atop the bridge of his nose. His eyes went wide at the sight of you in front of him. A finger pushed the glasses up as he blinked at you. His mouth fell open slightly while a shaky hand ran through his chocolate hair. He cleared his throat, unsure what to say in the moment, too afraid that this was all just another fever dream.
“Hi,” you supplied, hoping to fill the awkward silence with something, anything really.
“Hey,” the greeting slipped out automatically, not entirely sure if his brain was playing tricks on him again. Had he fallen asleep into another dream of you? He hadn’t stopped seeing your face everywhere he went since you left. Ever since you left that summer afternoon all those years ago, taking his heart with you. He swears he still sees visions of you walking down the crowded streets of the city, or sitting at your favorite table inside of the cafe you used to frequent together after class. You didn’t know it, but you kept the beating organ safe in your hands while he patiently waited for you to bring it back home to him. He never actually wanted it back, rather he wanted to see that you still held onto it as tenderly as you once had.
With a lump in his throat, he tried to swallow it and pleaded with his brain to form a tangible thought for a decent reply other than the one word he’s offered to you already. To his dismay, nothing came out. Instead, the words played at the back of his throat teasingly.
“I’m sorry this is so unexpected of me, I don’t even know what I was thinking. You’re probably busy and it’s the middle of the night...I’ll just go.”
“No-no, please. Stay.” His voice was laced with something needy as his hand reached out to grip your wrist. If he was dreaming, he didn’t want to wake up just yet. He needed more time with you. It was never enough time. “I mean...come in. Please. You must be freezing, and I just ordered pizza.” A hopeful grin appeared on his face, his eyes pleaded with you to just come inside and provide him with your company for even a moment.
You nodded, matching his small smile as a blush dusted across your cheeks and a familiar warmth began to spread throughout your chest. He never once let go of your wrist, his grip lightly tightening ever so often to ensure that you were truly real.
He shut the door and led you over to the living room where he then threw two black velvet cushions from the couch onto the floor in front of the coffee table.
“Please, have a seat,” he let go reluctantly and made his way to his tiny kitchen where the box of pizza sat untouched next to an unopened bottle of red wine. He plucked two glasses from the shelf just above his eye level and eagerly made his way back to your side, heart now making its way down into his stomach as he stopped in the doorway. He allowed himself a moment to stare at the back of your head, the way your skin reflected the soft candlelight so beautifully. He made his way back into the living room after deciding staring at you would only set his insides on fire the longer he gazed. He set the box down, clumsily opening the bottle and pouring the crimson liquid into both glasses, hoping you wouldn’t see the way his hand ever so lightly trembled in your presence.
“Thank you,” you said shyly. You allowed your eyes to follow his every movement until he sat beside you. You noted how he had ordered your usual, your chest beginning to light up with fireflies with the thought that he remembered your favorite after all this time. He took a slice and bit into it, closing his eyes and humming as he chewed, his head nodding in approval. Your heart fluttered with adoration when you saw the grease begin to stick to the corners of his mouth the more he ate. The two of you sat there in comfortable silence like you hadn’t been separated for years. That was the thing about Joong. It was just so easy.
As the candles melted and the air surrounding you two was filled with laughter as you exchanged stories to bring each other up to speed on your lives, you couldn’t help but spot a familiar glint in his eyes, the sparkle never fading, even after all these years. It was comforting to know that even after being apart for so long, his feelings were a constant.
He sipped the remainder of his wine before hopping up and waltzing over to his beloved record player that he spent an obscene amount of money on for the aesthetics, as he once told you that one winter afternoon at the little thrift shop just a few blocks from your favorite coffee shop. He put a record on and slowly allowed the needle to drop, the fuzzy static at the beginning of the vinyl filling the room. Once the smooth piano came sounding out of the record player, he came back over, offering his hand out in front of you. He sported a lazy smile, a light haze surrounding your figure as his eyes focused on you. He swore you stole his breath away from him in that moment, the shadows dancing against your soft features.
You let your hand slip into his and he pulled you to your feet, pulling you close to his chest as he began to sway you both to the beat of the music. You recalled the times he would dance like this with you. On nights when you both couldn’t sleep, or when you woke from a nightmare and needed someone to hold at two in the morning but your empty apartment would soon be filled with his comforting presence in a heartbeat. That’s the thing about Hongjoong. He was always there, and if he wasn’t, he would be there. No matter what. You sighed into his collarbone as you felt the heavy thump of his heart from underneath his rib cage.
“Can I tell you something?”
“Anything,” you find yourself whispering against the mole on his neck, unaware of the shiver that is suddenly sent down his spine.
“I’ve been waiting for you to come back to me,” he purred into your ear. “For you to be in my arms like this again,” His hands caressed your sides, the delicate brush of his fingertips sending shivers all over your body as he pulled you closer to him. Your head was rested in the crook of his neck now, arms tangled together between both of your chests as he clutched your hands in his. You two swayed slowly to the vinyl playing in the background, the air between you two thick with an unspoken desire. You inhaled deeply, reminding your senses of his cologne that used to stain the fibers of your sheets years ago. “I’ve missed you,” his voice came out as a strained whisper, the emotion dripping from his tongue like honey.
“I’ve missed you too, Joong. I’m sorry it took so long.” He hummed in response, lifting your chin so your eyes could meet as he pressed your foreheads together.
“Never apologize for bettering yourself.” You looked up at him through your lashes, his features soft with the warm glow of the flames surrounding you. “I’m just glad you didn’t forget about me.”
“Oh Hongjoong,” you placed your palm on his cheek, your thumb rubbing softly at the porcelain skin. “I could never forget you.” His eyes visibly softened as your melodic confession poured from your lips. He needed to taste your words on his tongue, he needed to so he knew they were real. Daringly, he dipped down and pressed his plush lips to yours, his tongue smoothing across your bottom lip, tasting the sweet words you kept hidden there. Always on the tip of your tongue, but could never get them out.
But not tonight.
He began walking you backwards until your back softly pressed against the wall. His hands roamed your curves while his mouth explored every inch of your own. You couldn’t help the small breathy moan that escaped into his desperate mouth, making him press up against you harder until you could feel the outline of his arousal against your thigh.
“Please,” is all he let slip in between wet kisses and rushed breaths. All you could do was nod, knowing exactly what he asked for. Your hands cupped his face, your lips smashing into his in hopes that you could merge into him like your heart ached to do. You wanted to reside within him, crawl into his rib cage and form a home around his sacred bones where it felt safe. He was home, and you never wanted to leave the shelter that was him.
“Joong, please, I-” your breath hitched as his lips ghosted against yours, his hands aching to touch every inch of you as they hovered over your skin, the tension becoming too much to bear.
“I know...Me too.” His breath flooded your space, and your stomach flipped with anticipation. You closed your eyes, not sure if you could look at him any longer without losing yourself completely to his delicate touch.
Soon you felt his cool fingers unbuttoning the front of your blouse, his fingers tracing delicately over the soft skin of your chest, enjoying the way you shivered underneath his loving touch. He pushed the delicate fabric away, revealing your bare trembling figure. He relished in the way every curve hugged the shadows around you, the way he could see your nipples begin to harden underneath the lace of your bralette as the fabric of your shirt lightly grazed your breasts before falling daintily over your shoulders. His calloused hands tossed it to the floor and grazed your skin, taking his time to remember how you felt under his fingertips. Your warmth felt like the heat of a thousand suns, burning him to the touch, but gods, he couldn’t get enough of it.
You giggled and took the frames from his face and put them down on the coffee table when you noticed a slight fog begin to form on the lenses.
“You won’t be needing these,” your eyes fell back on his panting chest, watching as his trembling fingers fumbled with the small buttons. He was so eager and you felt your heart swell. You reached your calm hands out and grabbed his, feeling the buzz of anticipation through his fingertips. His wide eyes landed on yours, lost in the moment completely. Your grounding presence refocused his hazy vision, a silent affirmation sent to him from your gentle touch calmed him down immensely. “It’s okay Joong. We don’t need to rush this.”
“I-I’m sorry, I’ve just…”
“Shh,” your slender finger made its way to his lips, a small coo to silence his anxious rambling. “None of that now. Just come here,” you grab him by the belt loops of his jeans and pull him closer to you, eyes hooded and hoping they were saying more than what your words ever could. “Just love me.”
Both of his hands wrapped around the base of your face, fingers tangling themselves in your hair as he reconnected your desperate lips, this time there was no trace of nerves present between the two of you. He needed you to know he heard you loud and clear, and would not stop until you felt as loved as humanly possible. The craving to be inside you, connected to you, as close as he could physically be to you set his skin on fire, an ache he needed to soothe. You were quick to assist with removing his shirt as he had yours, and you reached back to unclasp the thin lace from your figure, letting it drop between the two of you. You brought his hands from your face down to your breasts, encouraging him to play with the sensitive buds that awaited his eager touch. There was no hesitation on his part as he took your hardening bud in between his finger and thumb, massaging it roughly. You could feel the heat begin to fill your abdomen, the waves of pleasure flowing through you instantly. You moaned into his mouth while your shaking awaiting fingers impatiently undid the button and zipper on his jeans to allow your hand access to what you needed.
Hongjoong guided you over to the couch, leaving his jeans behind and sitting down in front of you. You stepped out of the remainder of your clothes to be left in nothing but dainty lace, much to his enjoyment. His hands clutched your hips as you stood in front of him, his lips leaving sloppy wet kisses on your stomach, your hips, your thighs, any skin he would get his hands on. You tilted your head back with your eyes closed as you felt his tongue drag against your sensitive skin, his lips lazily nipping at your most ticklish spots. Your fingers found their way into his hair, scratching his scalp and gripping his silky chocolate strands.
“Joong,” you sighed his name when you felt his finger tease at the elastic of your panties, his tongue snaking across your hip bone after lightly sinking his teeth into the delicate skin and sucking possessively. A wave of arousal spiked through his veins at the sound of his name falling from your swollen lips.
Once getting the lacy garment off of your skin, Hongjoong’s fingers grazed the outline of your core, your cheeks flushing at the realization of how damp you already were for him. He got down on his knees, hooking one if your legs over his shoulder and looked up at you from beneath his thick lashes.
“I’ve waited so long to have the taste of you on my tongue, baby. Will you let me?”
“Please,” You lightly panted as the pit of your stomach tightened with anticipation, his hot breath ghosting over your clit and sending your mind into a haze. With small kitten licks, he tried pacing himself as he got his first taste of you, but once your juices met his tongue, he felt an insatiable hunger take hold of him. “Devour me,” you found yourself saying under your breath. His gut twisted in the most sensational way, his cock twitching at the breathy moan. He did not hold back any longer, his tongue gliding all over and in between your folds, eliciting a surprised moan from you. His warm tongue was suddenly inserted into your awaiting pussy, eliciting more beautiful noises from your chest. Your fingers tightened in his hair as he worked his magic, humming against you when you began subconsciously moving your hips in time with him. When he felt you begin to clench around his tongue he immediately pulled away, your sweet juices shining on his chin as he flashed a devilish smile your way.
“Not yet, pretty baby.” He cooed, standing up and bringing his hand to caress your cheek. You leaned into his touch, not realizing that you were now craving it even more than you initially thought. “I want to look into your eyes when you come undone for me.” He let his hand lazily drop down to yours and pulled you close to him, guiding your hand down to his throbbing member. “Look what you do to me,” he wrapped your hand around his shaft, squeezing your hand that had wrapped around him without any thought. A raspy groan escaped his lungs when you began to slowly pump his member, the veins prominent and pre-cum leaking from the swollen rosy tip. He backed up, the back of his legs hitting the couch and he gripped your hips as he sat down on the couch with his legs spread. He guided you to hover over him, your chest nearly pressed against his as you slowly sank down onto his eager cock.
The pressure of your tight walls engulfing him, the stretch making both of you gasp at the pleasurable fit. You sat like that for a moment, allowing yourselves to take in every sensation and emotion you felt. You felt small tears threaten your eyes as your heart melted inside of your rib cage.
You felt the overwhelming amount of love for him begin to surface. There was just so much.
So so much.
“Hey,” he whispered, his blown out eyes soft and focused on yours. He cupped your cheeks, his thumbs rubbing small circles into the sticky flesh. “I’m right here,” his attempt at bringing you back to him was small but it was successful. His grounding touch helped the haze clear your mind as you were brought back to the moment, not realizing you had gotten lost in the emotion of the sacred act that was currently taking place. You closed your eyes and took in the sound of the dull scratch of the vinyl that had finished long ago in the background. The quiet beat of his heart pounding wildly in time with yours as you opened your eyes, all you saw was him.
Your breath hitched at the slow, deep and intentional pumps he made into you, each one making his tip push deliciously against your wildly sensitive spot. You felt yourself move your hips in a circular motion on top of him, your trembling hands making their way to his shoulders to steady yourself while you moved. You relished in the way your clit rubbed against his pelvis to stimulate the swollen bud between your legs. The pace picked up out of desperation for a shared release, but you both had a longing for the moment to last, so you pushed the warm feeling that bubbled in your abdomen down as much as you could. His hands splayed across your back, gripping your love handles that he adored dearly and dragged his nails down the delicate skin gently, most definitely leaving a raised and agitated trail.
“This,” his breath was lost at the sight of you coming completely unraveled in his embrace, your eyes never leaving his as you became as close as humanly possible. “Oh my gods, it’s all for you,” he moaned and his head lolled forward, your sticky foreheads now touching as he began to thrust lovingly into you. “Only you.” He repeated, like a prayer spilling from the lips of the most devoted disciple as an offering at the altar. You were a goddess, an absolutely divine being in his eyes. Birthed from the womb of Aphrodite herself. He was most certain with the way you glistened in the candle light above him, mouth slightly agape as your hips rolled and your curves moved in the sexiest way. If this was heaven, he did not wish to return to earth. He would pray to any god to live in this moment forever. A slow and sensual pace was what he desired. He wanted to savor every minute, remember every feeling you gave him while his member was deep inside your walls.
“Oh baby, fuck. I’m-I’m gonna-” you whined, feeling the peak of your orgasm rush to your core ready to explode. He took your face in his hands and crashed your lips together sloppily as he thrusted into you harder, riding out his own high through the stars he was seeing behind his eyes. You felt his warm seed spill into you, still bouncing lazily on top of him until your bodies came back down to earth. You collapsed your sweaty body to his, his fingers grazing your back lovingly while he enjoyed the weight of you on top of him. You both were panting, a small exhausted laugh coming from him as you lay there in comfortable silence.
“What?” You tried lifting your head, but ended up with your head in the crook of his neck, your nose nuzzling into the damp skin.
“Nothing. I just…” he paused, running his fingers through your hair, his lips pressing a lingering kiss to the top of your head. “I can’t believe we just did that” Another breathy laugh rumbled under his chest.
“I know,” you admit, your lids heavy as he played with your hair. “I didn’t realize I needed that.”
“I’ve always needed that.” He let the confession drip from his lips honestly, nothing holding him back any longer. “I’ve always needed you. And I don’t think I could ever want anyone else after that.” You felt your lips tug into a proud smile, your heart melting like ice cream in the middle of June. “I love you.” His words hung in the air surrounding you two, a response not required but hoped for. You sat up in his lap, his flaccid member resting in the confines of your walls still. You weren’t quite ready for the empty feeling once he pulled himself out of you, the fullness of him making you feel whole. Your hands rested on his flushed cheeks and you leaned down to press your lips to his forehead, then each of his closed eyelids. The tip of his nose next, and finally on his lips ever so slightly. You stayed there, hovering over his mouth, the words heavy on your tongue and ready for release. After all this time, you found yourself not afraid to let go of everything you kept inside for so long.
“I love you too, Joong.” You whispered against his swollen lips, kissing each corner of his mouth and leaning back to gaze at his stunning disheveled state. With eyes blown out completely, a few tears streamed down his cheeks at the late night confession you offered him. “I’ve loved you for seven summers now. Each one I found myself loving you more and more. The longer I was away from you, the more that love grew.” Your fingers brushed the strands of hair back that were stuck to his forehead, your own eyes watering as you allowed the affection to pour out of you. “Hongjoong, I’ve loved you for seven summers, and I will love you for many more.”
You felt your walls begin to clench around nothing as he pulled out of you, leaving you empty and longing for the intimate feeling he took away from you. He spread himself out across the couch and pulled you down onto his chest as he played with your fingers. Your eyes closed, exhaustion settling in quick as his fingers continued to graze across your back lovingly. As you drifted off, you almost missed his last confession of the night before he too lost consciousness.
“I have never loved anyone the way that I love you, and I don’t think I ever could.”
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