hello!! i go by syn around here! i had to recreate my blog because i'm a bit new to tumblr lmao...mainly i'll just use this blog to ramble about metal band members and occasionally i'll write drabbles hehe
this is an nsfw blog - minors dni
masterlist
ASKS CLOSED CURRENTLY!!!
who i'll write for
dave mustaine
lars ulrich
james hetfield
kirk hammett
jason newsted
maybe more depending on how i'm feeling lol
things i will NOT write
male reader (i am afab and i don't think i have the experience to write a male reader)
scat
vomit
abuse/extreme violence
incest (step-cest is ok)
underage
if there's something you're unsure about, please send me an ask so i can clarify!
Please don't kill me, Mr. Ghostface, I wanna be in the sequel!
pairing: ghostface!kirk hammett x fem!reader
warnings: somewhat dark content, stalking, creep!kirk, panty stealing, knives, blood, violence, little bit of a breeding kink, sadism maybe (?), degradation, name calling (slut, whore), pet names (doll), possibly ooc kirk
words: 3.1k
a/n: i did not proof read this so if there are mistakes that's totally on me LMAO i hope you all enjoy bc this was my first time writing anything like this (it ended up being a little less ghostface centered bc my brain went on autopilot)
By the time he has you checked out, it’s a few minutes past closing. He sees you to the door, holding it open for you like the gentleman he is. As you’re leaving, Kirk calls out to you, that sickly sweet smile on his face, “Be safe. It’s dangerous for girls like you to walk the streets at night.”
Kirk first notices you when you strut into the movie rental store a few minutes before closing. You look entirely lost, eyes scanning the store hurriedly. When he walks over to you, he swears that he’s just doing his job, being a good employee and helping out lost customers. But deep down, he knows he’s lying to himself. He puts on that bright smile he hates so much and asks what you’re looking for in his nicest voice. When you tell him you’re looking for Friday the 13th, Kirk knows he has to have you.
Your cautiousness makes it way harder for Kirk to follow behind you. In retrospect, maybe telling you the streets aren’t safe wasn’t the best idea if he wanted to stalk you back to your house, but he’d just have to deal with it. When you look over your shoulder, you see a flit of darkness from the corner of your eye, choosing to brush it off as the shadow of an animal. You speed up slightly, just wanting to get home and watch the movie as quickly as possible. Kirk continues to follow you, dipping back into the shadows when you check over your shoulder.
His words make you feel uneasy. You’d heard that there have been rumors of a so-called ghostface copycat killer on the loose. Some unstable dumbass killing people with that stupid mask on after watching Scream. You’re extra cautious on your way home, checking over your shoulder occasionally to make sure you’re not being followed.
Eventually, you make it to your house, breathing a loud sigh as you finally unlock your door. You step inside, slipping your shoes off and turning the lock behind you before heading towards the living room. You set the VHS on the coffee table and walk to the kitchen, preparing something to eat during the movie. You head back to the living room, sliding the VHS into the player and plopping down on the couch.
Kirk watches you closely through the window to your left. He studies your reactions to the movie, how you jump when a loud noise plays or how you grimace and squirm at the gore; he finds you fascinating. He watches you for the entire duration of the movie, only leaving after watching you get undressed for bed. He leaves your house that night with a painfully hard dick and a plan to have you all for himself.
–
Kirk continues to watch you for at least another week; he’s practically memorized your schedule by now. He knows that recently, it’s become your habit to come into the rental store to rent a new horror movie every night, which is very convenient for him. He can follow you home and observe you as soon as he closes the shop, and on his days off, he can sneak into your bedroom window while you’re away and rummage through your underwear drawer, maybe even take a pair home for his nasty fantasies and return them the next day soiled with his cum. Kirk knows it’s disgusting, but that’s exactly why he enjoys it so much; the thought of you wearing a pair he’s soiled and not even realizing it gets him so worked up.
Kirk smiles to himself as he’s shelving tapes. Tonight, he would execute his master plan. Glancing at the clock, he sets things into motion—11:50 p.m. Right on time, you walk through the door, your previous rental in hand. Kirk nods his head to you in acknowledgement as you drop your tape into the return bin. He eyes you as you head to the horror section to peruse the available films before returning his attention to his task.
“Excuse me, Sir?” You squeak, standing behind Kirk. He whips around to face you, smiling and greeting you, “How may I help you?”
Kirk takes a moment to think; it’d be pretty ironic if he picked Scream for you. You watch his smile widen as he says, “Why don’t you just rent ‘em both?”
“Well, I’m a very indecisive person…so I was just wondering if you could help me decide which movie to rent.” You mumble quickly, holding up Scream and A Nightmare on Elm Street.
You shrug. “That’s my limit. I need to save as much money as possible, y’know.”
He puts his hand on your arm, and you tense up.
“How about I rent Elm Street for you…I’ll let you take it home if you promise to return it by tomorrow.”
Your eyes widen, and you smile at him. “Really? I swear I’ll have it back by this time tomorrow!”
He chuckles at your words, and his hand slips from your arm to your lower back. He guides you up to the counter, hand lingering for a bit too long on your body as he moves to check your rentals out. You think nothing of it, brushing it off as him being friendly.
He sees you to the door again, waving to you and shouting, “Have a good night, stay safe…” before closing the doors and locking up.
–
When the person on the other end replies, your stomach drops. His voice is gravelly, very obviously altered with a voice changer.
You’re almost an hour into Scream when the landline rings. You get up from the couch, stopping the tape before answering the phone, “Hello?”
“Who is this?”
You barely think before answering him, “Is this some sort of sick joke? It’s not very funny.”
“I assure you, this is very real…but you’ve got it all wrong in that pretty little head of yours. I just wanna talk...” he pouts on the other end.
“I don’t care. Bye now.” You state, putting the phone back on the hook and breathing a loud sigh.
As soon as you sit down and prepare to continue the movie, the phone rings again. You throw your head back and groan, standing up again to answer the call.
“Hello?” You hiss, annoyed that your movie time was interrupted by some dumbass playing a prank.
“Well, that wasn’t nice…” The man on the other line laughs, “I only said I wanted to talk.”
“Talk to someone else then.”
As you move to hang the phone up, you hear him growl, “Don’t you dare hang up on me, slut. I’ll slit your pretty little throat if you even think about it.”
Your words get caught in your throat, stunned at the switch from the once calm voice to the threatening one you hear now.
“Now, listen carefully, we’re gonna play a little game. Get one question wrong, and you’re dead, understand?”
You stand in shock, throat tightening painfully and tears beginning to well at the corners of your eyes.
“I said, do you understand? Yes or no.”
You nod, whimpering a soft “yes” through your tears.
You easily answer his first two questions, both about movies you’d already seen.
“That’s not fair! I haven’t finished watching the movie. There’s no way I’ll be able to answer this one correctly!”
“Good…now, who is the killer in Scream?” he asks, and you can almost hear the smirk in his voice.
“Too bad. You better start thinking of a good answer. Otherwise, it’s game over for you.”
Your brain is moving at a mile a minute, trying to recall every detail from the past hour of the movie that could point to who the killer might be. You remember the scene where the character Stu explains how to gut someone, which is quite suspicious. You take a shaky breath before answering, “Stu. The killer is Stu.”
“Sorry, doll…That’s incorrect. I guess that’s game over! The correct answer would’ve been Stu and Billy.”
“Wait, no! There was no way for me to get that one right! You tricked me!” You cry desperately, sinking to the floor and hiding beside the couch.
“Hmm…I guess that one was a bit unfair. Okay, how about this one: where am I?”
As he finishes the question, you hear your bedroom window being forced open and the stomp of heavy boots on your floor. In a panic, you drop the phone and quickly rush to the kitchen to grab anything you can to defend yourself. You grab a knife and duck behind the kitchen island, trying to steady your breath and be as quiet as possible. Holding the knife close to your chest, you peek around the island, catching a glimpse of a pair of black boots in the living room. Slowly, you begin crawling towards the hallway to your bedroom, thinking you could escape from the window he entered through.
Halfway down the hallway, the floor creaks as you take a step. You feel as if your heart is going to burst from your chest. The masked man’s head whips towards your direction, watching you as you scramble up from the floor, dropping the knife, bolting into the open bedroom door and slamming it behind you. Once in the room, you immediately run to the window but quickly realize that it’s closed. Curses fall from your lips as you search for an alternative, ultimately deciding to slide underneath your bed.
Your bedroom door creaks open, the man’s heavy boots sounding like thunder with each step he takes. You cover your mouth with your hand, eyes squeezing shut to keep yourself from letting tears spill down your face. You can hear him open the window again, and you assume he’s checking to make sure you didn’t get away. He moves from the window to the closet, throwing the door open and checking every inch for you.
Your heart is pounding as he circles the bed. And then suddenly, his footsteps stop. You wait a few seconds before doing your best to look over your shoulder in the cramped space. A scream escapes your throat when you see that goddamned mask looking at you all squished under the bed. You feel his hand grab onto your ankle, and before you can even start to react, he’s pulling you out from your hiding spot. Your hands grasp for something to hold onto, legs kicking frantically to try to escape his hold.
Your efforts are in vain as he easily pulls you from underneath the bed. You continue to struggle in his grasp, flailing around, trying to get him to let go. The man makes the mistake of not securing your hands first, allowing you to reach towards his mask and pull it from his head. Your Brows furrow in confusion as you take in the face of the unmasked man–the sweet movie rental boy named Kirk. He’s stunned for a second, not expecting you to be so bold, but quickly snaps out of it and reaches for his knife. He uses one hand to hold you down on the floor as the other presses the knife to your throat.
“I wasn’t planning on killing you before, doll…I was just havin’ a bit of fun.” He clicks his tongue and shakes his head, “But now that you’ve seen my face, I’m afraid you’ve gotta go; I can't have you running around telling everyone my secret.”
“Please…” You whimper quietly, “I’ll do anything; please don’t kill me.”
“Those are dangerous words, slut. Are you sure you stand by them? You’ll do anything for me to spare your life?” His tone is sinister, and you see a dangerous glint in his eyes through your tears.
“Yes. I swear, anything you want.”
His grip slowly loosens on your neck, and he lightly slides the knife's tip down your neck.
“Good.” He smiles, standing up and grabbing a fistful of your hair, “Get on the bed.”
Kirk uses his grip on your hair to pull you up from the floor and shoves you back onto the mattress. You watch him, eyes wide and scared as he stalks closer.
“Shirt off, now. Otherwise, I’ll take it off for you, and I promise you don’t want that.”
You pull the shirt over your head with shaky hands, immediately moving to cover your exposed tits out of embarrassment. Kirk growls and reaches forward to move your arms away from your chest.
“Hide yourself from me again, and I cut you, whore.”
Kirk continues making you undress until you're in only your pretty blue panties. When he sees the pair you decided to wear, that dangerous smile returns to his face, “Y’know…that’s one of the pairs I jerked off with.”
He says it so casually that you almost disregard it until you fully process what he said. You respond with a simple “Huh?”
“Yeah, I snuck in here and stole a pair to use almost every time you were gone.” He laughs, “You make it awfully easy for someone to break in…if I didn’t know better, I’d think you wanted me to.”
Kirk unlaces his boots, slides them off, and then climbs onto the bed to hover over your body. His hand slips lower and lower, caressing down your plush body until he reaches your clothed cunt. Running two fingers over your pussy through your panties, Kirk chuckles, “You should be ashamed of yourself. You’re soaked for the man who threatened to kill you…fucking whore.”
You whine as he rubs at your cunt, hips lifting to chase his hand as he pulls it back.
“Look at that…” he teases, “My little doll is already desperate for me, and I’ve barely touched her.”
Kirk finds the knife again, sliding it up your leg slowly before finally letting it rest on your cunt. Your heart speeds up when you see the knife so close to you. He drags it to your hip, slipping it under the waistband of your underwear and slicing through it, mirroring his actions on the opposite side as well. He pulls the ruined fabric away from your sopping cunt, leaving you entirely bare under him.
In an instant, the blade of the knife is pressed to your throat again. He slips a finger into your cunt, fucking it into you painfully slow.
“Better not move too much. We wouldn’t want that pretty throat of yours slit open, would we?”
Your mouth falls open in a silent moan, scared that any slight movement of your throat will get you cut. When your hip bucks up into his hand again, you feel a sting where the knife is pressing into your skin. “Whoops!” He exclaims in fake surprise, “Guess I got a little carried away…” Kirk brings the knife away from your neck and up to his lips, tongue darting out to clean your blood from the blade.
You’re absolutely sure he has a few screws loose, but you honestly couldn’t care less right now. You cry out as he adds another finger, stretching you open perfectly. Your hands grasp his hair, threading your fingers to find purchase in the curls. Your vision blurs as he speeds up, the coil in your stomach feeling like it could snap at any second. Kirk makes you cum faster with his fingers than anyone else has ever made you cum.
You moan loudly, body shaking and convulsing as you let go around his fingers. He helps you ride out your orgasm, thumb rubbing lightly at your clit, overstimming you ever so slightly. Kirk drops the knife to your side and begins lifting the black ghostface robe off of himself, revealing the Misfits shirt he wore earlier that night. He unzips his jeans and pulls his boxers down just enough for his dick to bob out.
‘Can’t wait to slip into your tight and messy cunt, doll…so fuckin’ wet for me.” He growls, teasing the head of his cock against your sensitive clit. Kirk pushes your legs up to your chest, practically folding you in half, and uses one hand to keep you in place. His other hand rests on your throat, adding light pressure as he pushes his cock into your cunt. You grip the sheets as his cock stretches you open.
He’s relentless with his thrusts once he bottoms out, fucking into you like an animal. “Fuck, Kirk!” You cry, “So fuckin’ good, feels like you’re in my guts…”
He grips your throat tighter, and the cut from earlier begins to sting again. You can't tell if the tears falling from your eyes are from the pain or the pleasure at this point; all you know is that you don’t want Kirk to stop. The lack of oxygen makes your brain feel fuzzy, and you’re not sure what to pay attention to anymore. Everything feels so overwhelming.
“Mmh, shit…I can feel you tightening up on me.” Kirk groans, “If your pussy keeps hugging me like this, I might just have to fuckin’ breed you, doll.”
Lost in the moment, all you can do is whine his name as he fucks into you faster, lewd sounds of skin against skin echoing off the walls. He moves his hand from your throat, allowing you to catch your breath. The now free hand moves down to play with your clit, rubbing it in tight circles, pushing you closer and closer to your climax.
You see white as you cum around Kirk’s cock, low whines and loud moans falling from your lips. Kirk’s orgasm comes not long after yours, cock throbbing inside you as he empties his cum into your cunt. You expect him to pull out and leave as soon as he’s done, but surprisingly, he doesn’t. Instead, he picks the knife up again, hovering over your left tit. He brings the knife down and begins to carve something into your skin. It hurts like hell, and you tear up as he does it. He pulls back to examine his work after he’s finished, eyes scanning the marred flesh with pride. You look down, trying to see what he carved, only being able to make out the letters ‘K.H.’
Kirk pulls out from your cunt and watches as his cum spills from you with a sadistic smile. “Hope you’re on the pill, doll.” He mumbles as he tucks himself back into his boxers and zips his jeans. He puts his boots back on and grabs his knife and costume before going over to the window and opening it. As he’s climbing out, he looks back at you, who is on the verge of passing out on your bed.
“Thanks, doll…Keep it up like this, and I won’t have to kill you. See ya around.”
Kirk is gone in an instant, and you’re left alone on your bed, pussy filled with his cum and his initials carved into your tit.
Your sports bag clings to your upper hip like a second skin as you make your way inside of the town you're visiting's local tennis club, an easygoing and excited smile lifting your reddened features despite your distain towards the engulfing heat, and its accompanied dry air making everything seem much more dense and heavier. The sound of children's animated laughter and the scuffs of their court shoes easily take over the now fading dual cacophony of blaring horns and annoyed shouts from the stoplight now a few yards away, and you nearly close your eyes in bliss as a cool breeze filters through, while the door slowly closes to latch itself behind your half clothed and cloying back.
They widen instead and quickly flicker to the right as a cold hand encircles itself around your forearm to fully tug you in, and you force yourself to take in a shaky breath as a girl around your age sends you an apologetic grimace and hastily takes a step back, her hand falling in tow. "Sorry about that, you probably couldn't hear me over all of the kids," she falters out, the slight stutter in her cadence and her obvious nervousness helps the rest of your hesitance and wariness dissipate. "You just look like a volunteer, and we're ten more kids away from a disaster and a shit show. I'm pulling at straws here."
"Well, luckily for you," You start, before playfully trailing off. Grinning amusedly at her words, you blindly reach back in search for the zipper on your bag, your eyes squinting with the enormity of your mirth as she lets out a cheer as soon as she sees the forest green polo in your raised fist. "What's going on, anyway? The last time I was here to sign up, this place was deserted, and now I can barely even see the exit to the courts from here." You raise an eyebrow as a group of excited parents and young teenagers eagerly make their way through the crowd, the matching shirts they have on and the lettering printed on them blurred with how fast they were clumsily attempting to travel through the packed lobby and front room. You halfheartedly toss your assigned shirt over your head, tugging your ponytail out of the back of the collar as you look around and shift your bag to each shoulder to slide your arms through the sleeve holes.
"Some metal band surprised us with a donation and agreed to come and watch the kids play for the day. They thought it would help us raise some more funds for the tennis club we've been saving up for to build on the other side of town." Your grin softens at her answer, and you allow her to grab ahold of your arm again to help guide you through the ever growing crowd, it beginning to look more like a concert than a place for people to play and practice at with each second that passes. By the time you two make it to the exit and open double doors, shoulders and elbows are leaning into your own and almost forcibly pushing you forward. Relief floods through you as the familiar hot and bright rays of sunbeams beat down on you as you two finally make it past the doors, and you have to rush to duck as a man yells and thrusts his hands in your direction. Falling down into a squat, you murmur a rushed curse and hold back an incredulous laugh as the man behind you nearly jumps over your crouched form in haste to make it further into the traveling crowd.
The hand still clutching onto you tugs you toward the left, near a half empty and older looking tennis court, and you wince as you feel droplets of sweat collect on the precipice of your eyebrows and temple. "We're only going to be teaching the kids how to ground stroke and approach, so we have the easy beginner's class today." You lift a hand to brush away the perspiration before straightening your fingers out and using them as a makeshift visor, your expression easing up and softening as the eager handfuls of kids look at you two with anticipation, the rackets in their hands almost looking too heavy for them to carry on their own. They let out a synchronized cheer once you two ask if they're ready to learn and have some fun, and your prior excitement for volunteering comes back full swing as you watch them attempt to balance their softened balls on their specialized rackets.
After you two eventually ease into your roles and you manage to almost perfect the moves with a shy boy who was struggling earlier on, you glance over after feeling eyes on you for a while and freeze as yours effortlessly meet with a familiar pair of green. What once were long bangs are now layered and cut short and pushed back, and the soft face you used to always hold onto and look forward to seeing, is now half covered in neat and maintained facial hair. Yet, his eyes still looked the same. You think they always will. The sound of your racket and tennis ball audibly connecting with the hard surface of the court's ground shocks you out of your stupor, and you hurriedly bend down to grab ahold of them once again. Brushing off your new friend's worry, you throw yourself back into coaching and demonstrating, pressuring yourself not to look back over at the man you haven't seen in almost six years. The man who left you behind.
༯
Despite knowing Lars could be as little and less than twenty feet away, you still had an amazing time. Acting out the plays and beginner moves ended up helping you let out some of your own personal frustration, and the kids' sounds of awe every time you and your co-volunteer reenacted an actual game made it even better. By the time you two set up and scored three games of doubles so each child would be able to play an all set, and they were tired out and ready to head home, the sun was setting, and the earlier crowd of parents and add on relatives was drastically dwindling down. You graciously accept the towel being handed to you and chug down the nearest cold drink, before flipping the plastic cup over with a flick of your thumb and index finger onto the folding table in front of you, grinning victoriously as you get a single round of applause after it lands on its head.
You reach back to fan yourself off with the back of your shirt, before taking it off once again, the sports bra you have on underneath nearly being completely soaked through. "Don't think any rockstars are going to want to get near or between any of this." Your new friend comments with her hand gesturing in between the two of you. You glance down before shrugging, using one of your hands to flatten out the wrinkles embedded in your dirtied skirt. "Least of my worries." You rebut, refusing to allow the tone in your voice to waver or sound emotional.
If she notices anything off about your response, she doesn't bring it up or acknowledge it. "You should stick back for a while. There are public showers, and management is supposed to be throwing a private thank you party for the band that came and stayed here all day," before you can decline, she continues. "The drummer was the one that ended up planning for them to stay. My friend told me that the guys were looking over the list of volunteers and the schedule, and once they were done, he came up with the idea on the spot. Either way, it helped out a lot of people." You nod along, swallowing thickly, the urge to flee turning into a feeling of defeat once you realize that he had the band come and stay back to have the opportunity to see you again. If he went through all of that trouble, then he should at least have the chance and the opportunity to get to say a proper goodbye.
"Yeah, I'll stay back," you accede, reaching down to grasp onto the thick strap of your bag once you hear footsteps approaching from behind. You look over your shoulder to find him stopping mid step, his expression full of uncertainty and something else, maybe hope. "How about I meet up with you in the bathroom, so we can both take a shower? I'll just be a minute or two." She agrees and goes to walk toward the double doors, only stopping in her tracks once to peer back at you with a knowing glint in her eye.
You shakily run your thumb over the uneven and worn out velcro of the strap, before nodding your head to the side and making your way over to an empty court. Bright light emanating from one of the office's sensors luminates the area, and the dangling earring in his ear shines and reflects onto the metal pole beside you, causing mini orbits of artificial trails of short illumination. "You did all of this so you could say goodbye?" You watch as the expression on Lars' face turns bleak, hopeless.
"Five and half years ago, I left to go to California," He states, and you nod, sending him a look of confusion. "Five years and two months ago, I wrote you my first letter, and I didn't get one sent back saying your apartment was vacant until three months later. Which means that for the past five and a half years, I haven't had the chance to tell you how sorry I am for not saying goodbye to you before I left." You sharply inhale, narrowing your eyes to try and collect the tears threatening to fall. You place your bag onto the floor so you can wrap your arms around yourself for comfort.
"I couldn't stay there anymore. We practically lived there together for the entire two years of the lease, and it didn't feel the same once you were gone. I had to get out," you confess, finally finding enough courage to consistently look him in the eye. "I understand why you're here, and if closure is what you need, I can give that to you. I don't know why you'd need it, you've been doing really well these past few years," you loosen an arm to wipe a stray tear off of your cheek, each inhale and exhale you manually take feeling like it'll be the last the longer you look back at him. "No matter what happened to have you leave without saying goodbye to me, I am still, so, completely fucking proud of you. I know how much work you put in to get to where you are today. All of you guys, really. I keep up."
Lars laughs wetly, temporarily shocking you still as his eyes well up. "You've been keeping up with us?" He breathes out in question, awe weighing down his tone, the way he shakes his head showing his genuine disbelief and surprise. "Yeah," you smile. "You, James, Cliff, Kirk and Jason." You recollect with ease, biting your bottom lip to hide a small smile. Lars reaches an arm out to touch you, but then stops himself, causing your hidden smile to falter.
"I didn't not say goodbye because you did something wrong," he reveals, gazing at you intently, as if he were to look away then you'd disappear. "I had a fear that if I were to say goodbye to you, then that would be the end of us, or of where we were at. I know that's fucking stupid, and it doesn't make any sense, but that's where my head was at. We were in a really good place, and I knew that if I were to tell you that I had a plan set in stone and that I had a feeling things were going to work out this time, you would have packed all of your things and moved with me. I couldn't do that to you. You finally had your own life, and you were stable, and if you were to have left with me, it would have fucked everything up for you."
You furrow your eyebrows in exasperation and take a step forward, watching as his pupils dilate the closer you get to him. "I would have gone with you regardless, because I love you." You blurt, closing your eyes in mortification as soon as you realize what you just admitted. Silence rings in your ears momentarily, and your heart pounds, before you begin to hear movement coming towards you. You jump as a warm and slightly calloused hand lightly grips onto your chin and tilts your head upward. "Look at me," Lars asks of you, pleads. "Please, just look at me."
Hope stares back at you, and you meet it with your own as you reach up to encapsulate your hand around his. "I haven't stopped loving you. Regardless of what you may have seen or read, within every second I've been awake, my first and last thought of every single day have been and are always about you. As soon as I saw your name on the list, I knew I had to try. No matter the risk of whether or not you hated me, I just needed to see you again. Needed to make sure you were alright, to see if you were real." His accent slurs and thickens as he leans forward to rest his forehead against yours, and he shudders around a flattened exhale as you wrap your free hand and arm around his shoulders to bring him in closer. You feel his heartbeat against your own chest, and subconsciously, they begin to synchronize. You grin as his nose brushes atop yours, and you let out a loud guffaw at the look on his face as he leans in to kiss you, and you back away.
"You can't kiss me here," You banter, your grin widening as he looks at you in confusion. You nod down toward the court's ground, where you two stand in between the service line and the baseline. "We're in no man's land. We've got to follow the rules. I thought you were the original tennis master. Unless you forgot?" Lars glances down at your lips and you shudder, the look in his eyes still familiar after all these years. A strong arm wraps itself around your middle and lifts you up, and you watch him smile to himself as your arm resting on top of his shoulders tightens with caution. You hesitantly wrap your legs around his waist and begin to relax once you felt sure he wasn't going to let go, your laughter returning after he stops right before the baseline. He loosens his grip around your waist, and you connect your ankles behind his back to assure him you were okay with being held, before repositioning your forehead against his.
"Are we good now, still following the rules?" Lars inquires in a low tone, intimate and warm, just like before, all those years ago. "We're good now, there's just one thing I need you to do for me." His eyes become lidded, heavy from just the drop of tone in your voice alone.
"Anything." He immediately agrees, with conviction. You brush your lips against his and kiss him softly, before leaning back to look at him directly in the eye.
"Take a shower with me."
༯
Your lips sting as you're carefully carried into the bathroom minutes later, once you're both sure everyone else would be out by then, a mixture of your guys' spit on your lips and the heady taste of him all over your tongue leaving you lightheaded. You force yourself to stand on your own momentarily, before Lars is backing you up into a stall, his mouth already back on yours within only a few seconds of being off.
You flinch as your back makes contact with the cold tiles of the bathroom wall, your chest now exposed after Lars easily unclasped the front with just a simple flick of his wrist and two fingers. Warm and wet lips cascade themselves down your jawline and the side of your neck, a mewl escaping from you every time he nestles his teeth enough into your sensitive skin to leave a mark. By the time that he was on his knees on the wet floor and was slowly hiking your skirt higher up on your hips, your thighs were pressed tightly together, and you couldn't stop your legs from tremoring.
"Think you can be quiet for me?" He offers you as he slides your underwear to the side and dips his head underneath the white and rumpled fabric. You reach down to entangle your fingers in his hair enough to tug his head back, ignoring the pulsation in your clit at the quiet grunt he lets out. You freeze as footsteps echo and make their way into a stall only a few away from yours, but Lars just grins up at you, his irises blown wide and his facial expression enamored. His fingers slide up your thigh, and he flicks at your essence soaked sex, quietly laughing at the way you toss your head back, your stomach muscles contracting and your swollen lips parting in a muted moan just by the single touch alone.
"There's someone else in here," you chastise in a rough whisper, fighting back the urge to smile back at him, his own being contagious and hard to ignore. "And I haven't showered yet." You curse quietly as he ducks back under the fabric and licks a fat stripe, all the way from your fluttering hole, up to the ending of your groin. You spread your legs and attempt to steady yourself, knowing that once he starts, he isn't going to finish until he feels like he's done with you. You arch your back and hitch your hips forward as he slowly takes you apart, his tongue elongating and straightening out enough to make its way inside of you to caress at your walls, while the hand not pressing into your thigh relentlessly rubs at your clit in figure 8's.
You flinch as a water faucet whines to life and you subconsciously stop his movements once again by yanking on his mane, buckling forward and lips stretching into an O as his hand on your thigh slides around the smooth expanse and up to smack your ass. Your eyes water from the sting, yet you push back into his hand to ask for more. Lars slides his tongue out from inside of you and follows your fist in his hair to come up from under your skirt. The sight of him is enough to nearly make you cum. His hair is distressed, standing on the ends, with your slick and pre release sticking and dripping down the length of his chin, and to his neck in thick, translucent lines.
"Like I wouldn't want to taste you exactly how you are," he grins out, looking drunk as you guides two fingers into your velvet heat, adamantly following every single movement of yours with his eyes as he thrusts them upwards in search for your spongelike spot. He finds it easily, and he allows you to kneel next to him once your legs begin to give out, your chest beginning to heave as he takes your right breast into his mouth and uses his free hand to guide you to ride his fingers. You release your grip from his hair, the sound of your pussy harshly slapping against his fingers and wrist now audible, and the force behind your riding enough to coerce his palm to curl upward and make rough contact with your pearling clit.
"Oh god," you whimper, feeling overstimulated even though you haven't cum yet. You lean forward and rest your head on top of his for stability, the slight tug on your nipple from his teeth and hot tongue in the cold air causing shivers to wrack your spine and for you to tremble. "I'm going to cum, please don't stop." You sob around a cry of his name, uncaring if your voice and choked out moans overpower the showerhead running only a few feet away, your only thoughts surrounded on who's finally here with you and who's making you feel this way.
"Good girl," Lars praises in a husked voice, looking fucked out himself as he tilts your head up to lick your own taste into your mouth. You slide your appendage against his as best as you can, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as he begins to scissor his fingers and rub his calloused palm against your oversensitive and beading clit, your folds acting as a suction to keep him from straying too far. You immediately freeze in place as the faucet is hastily yanked to the opposite side to stop the flow of water after a particularly loud moan, and you can't help the cry you let out when you cum against his soaking wet hand. "Keep being loud, let them know exactly who you're with. Just like that."
You clench around his digits as you seize against him, nearly yelling out his name in relief once you hear feet quickly slapping on top of tile to exit the bathroom in haste. Lars continues to fuck his fingers in and out of you with an upward twist until you have tears streaming down your face, and you're fully sat on his lap. "You did so well for me, look at you," he murmurs in a soft tone, uncaring of how disheveled you looked. With the tears streaming down your face, your still shaking body, your own slick glistening on your chin. "What else do you need from me, baby?"
"Need you to do whatever you want to me," you pant once you're able to slightly catch your breath, letting out a sigh of relief as soon as your overheated and blushed skin brushes against the cool tile on the wall. "Just want to make you feel good." A warm pair of lips press themselves to the crown of your head, and you're barely told to hold on tight before you're being lifted up again, your ruined and wet underwear sliding from around your left court shoe, and down straight onto the damp floor in the middle of the walkway as you're carried over to the sink.
"I've been feeling good since I saw you for the first time in over five years, five hours ago. But alright, angel," he says in a calm and placating way, gently placing you down on your unreliable feet, only letting go of his embrace around you to turn you to face the mirror. "I need you to hold onto the sink for me, nice and tight. Spread those beautiful legs for me," he brushes the frizzed strands of hair away from your face that fell out of your ponytail earlier and grins against your ear. "Arch your back for me." Anticipation and adrenaline run through you as you feel and hear him shift behind you and unzip his jeans.
You follow his instructions and moan loudly when he gives you a rewarding smack on the ass, before sheathing himself inside of you with one smooth movement of his hips. You melt back into his front yet still hold onto the sink for leverage, and you keep your eyes open to watch his reaction to the feeling of you for the first time in years through the reflection. Lars' mouth gapes open at the first thrust, the heat emanating off your constricting walls enough to take all of his words away. But before you can begin to feel triumphant, he settles you down with a solid drive straight against your cervix. The rough and audible slap of his hips making their way to connect with yours ricochets off the bathroom's walls and makes its way back over to you, and you can only hold on as soon as he twists his fingers in your hair to hold you in place.
Your neck tilts back with every small tug on your hair, each inch you're driven forward by his dick and backward by his fist makes the hickies and bruises interwoven and bitten into your skin even more apparent underneath the artificial light. You wail and tighten impossibly tight around him as he uses his free hand to yank you back and bear you down even further onto him, and him even deeper inside you. Your second orgasm is even stronger than your first, untouched, with your vision blurring and your legs completely giving out underneath you. Lars has to release your hair to half lift you in the air while he continues to use you, every pivoting movement of his hips and his length into you making you feel like you were still cumming even minutes later.
"So fucking perfect for me." He grunts into your ear, his words nearly slurring and becoming incoherent as he lifts and lowers you onto his cock in small increments, before impaling himself fully into you and stilling, filling you with his seed. You lean forward once you're placed back near the sink and greedily suck in air, your head feeling heavy and your stomach in a pleasurable knot as he carefully pulls out of you. Lars encircles his arms around you and sends you a small and satiated smile in the mirror, only moving to stop you from reaching for the paper towel to wipe yourself clean of his seed slowly making its way down your shaking leg.
He bends down to place a kiss on your red and bruising ass, before sweeping down to collect his seed on his fingertips. By the time he's back to his full height and gently maneuvering you around to face him, you already know what you need to do. Tilting your head backwards and opening your mouth, you greedily accept every drop and every finger slowly deposited into your mouth. Licking them clean and nearly dry, you pull yourself away and slowly hitch your skirt back down into place as footsteps make their way back towards the bathroom. Lars takes off his shirt and lifts it up, before carefully placing it over your head. A girl walks in by the time he has his jeans back on and zipped up, and your hair is back in a manageable ponytail.
"You ready to go home?" He asks you in a gentle tone as the girl makes her way past, who greets you two with an innocent and unknowing smile as she does so. You grin up at him and tearfully nod, before shakily bending down to retrieve your bra and underwear from the ground.
Can you write a jason smut where jase and the reader are high school sweethearts and its their first time ???
You swallow around the urge to let out a nervous sounding laugh as a tickling, wet kiss is placed on your left collarbone, the muscles in your throat tethering and constricting with the movement as Jason parts his kiss swollen lips to smile against your goosebump ridden flesh. Your stomach muscles tighten and narrow in as your boyfriend's careful and teasing fingertips dance their way down your bare and quivering middle, his thighs bracketing you in place as he hovers above you.
The sound of his spit clad grin disconnecting from your clavicle is audible in the slightly tense air surrounding you two, and the titter of nerves you were once able to hold back, pours out of you as Jason uses his hand holding up his weight near your head to level himself out with you and rests his forehead against yours. Bright blue eyes peer down into your own as he flattens his palm and lengthy fingers on your lower abdomen, the cool silver of your guys' matching class ring on his ring finger making itself apparent, as the chilled temperature of the jewelry opposes and stands out against the heated and blushed skin anticipatingly shifting underneath it.
"So nervous, even though this was your idea." He playfully taunts, the cerulean of his irises narrowing and disappearing as his smile widens and takes over his handsome features. Your laughter stutters and halts in your chest as you watch his slightly bruised lips spread, and you instinctively tilt your chin upward to chase after the taste of your own skin on his tongue. Jason immediately reacts to your kiss, his grin softening and jaw slacking enough to lave his appendage out to cascade it over your quiet gasp, before slowly licking and making its way into your welcoming and awaiting mouth. Your boyfriend's earlier and halfhearted confidence retreats as your tongues connect and your right hand weaves itself into his curly and unruly mane, his own desperation and want becoming obvious as his lips needily solidify themselves against your own, and his legs surrounding yours push your own pair even further together.
You mewl as your upper thighs rub and create friction only inches away from where you truly need it most, and as the salty taste of your own perspiration from your skin is granted on the tip of your tongue. You crane your neck back to suck in a much needed breath of air, a thick trail of shared spit breaking and landing on your chin as the ends of your hair graze the indented pillows underneath your partially lifted head. Jason forces himself to stay in place as your chest heaves just centimeters away from his own, the thin gold chain collectively holding your own ring around your neck enticingly moving to the side as you shakily pant.
"As if I did anything more than invite you over to my house for the weekend." You muse once you're sure your voice wouldn't break, and you could partially exhale. Jason's eyes follow the ring as if he was in a trance, before making their way down to the swell of your breasts, and then to his fingertips absentmindedly pressing themselves in your groin. Your heart pounds in your chest as you readily lift your head to follow his line of sight, a rush of heat flooding its way up your chest and resting upon your cheeks as you fleetingly look at the soon to be marks being imprinted in your skin. Jason removes his hand from the side of your head to encase it around your waist as he shifts back, your hips twitching as you hear him shakily curse from above you and near your knees. You use your now free hand to help you stabilize yourself on your elbows as you follow after him, your legs anchoring themselves shut as you catch him staring wide eyed down in between them.
The newly opened space in between you two allows for a coast of air to move its way through, and you bite back a full body shiver as the essence soaking itself through your cotton underwear makes itself known. You squeeze your eyes shut in embarrassment and go to throw your head back, only to pause in place as you feel your boyfriend's fingertips lightly tug at the lace sewn in on the top of the now ruined fabric. You tease your bottom lip with your two front teeth as Jason hesitantly looks up at you, his own face now a beet red. "Can I?" He nearly whispers, his own question sounding foreign and heavy on his used tongue. You glance down at his hand securely wrapped around your waist, the thumb comfortingly rubbing figure 8's in the sensitive skin surrounding it, and then back into his eyes, which are still focused on you. You shudder out a hilted exhalation, before nodding and relaxing your thighs. Nerves erupt throughout your entirety as his hand slowly loosens from around your hip and comes down to help his other slowly roll down the soaked cotton, your eyes feeling heavy and dilated as he sends you a praising look after you instinctively lift your hips from the tousled sheets underneath you to help.
You bend your knees once he has your underwear near the bottom of your thighs, the front tops of your feet brushing against Jason's raising ballsack and throbbing erection as you try to lift them from in between his own. Heat collects in your middle at the resounding grunt he lets out, and as his hips press themselves against you. Your clit begins to pulsate at the feeling of his dick's natural heaviness, and you spread your legs open even wider once you're able to unsteadily raise your legs to the side. Jason haphazardly manages to get the cotton past your ankles, before blindingly tossing it to the side, his eyes transfixed on your sex as soon as it fully comes into view. Your elbows shake and you falter as your boyfriend carefully raises and rests one of your ankles on his left shoulder, before turning his head to the side and descending his way down to your core with his mouth attached to the inner corner of your leg. Your hips tremble and jolt with every inch he licks, kisses and sucks his way up to your weeping pussy, your eyebrows furrowing and your jaw slack as he takes his time with you.
Jason presses his painful erection against your other bent leg, rutting against and using your raised kneecap to relieve some of the pressure against his still clothed and palpitating cock. Jason's mouth salivates as he watches you pant and attempt to hold yourself in place for him, his cockhead beading with precum and begging to be free of its confines. Your leg connected to his groin is pressed down flat, before being raised and wrapped around his side, his stomach nearly grazing the sheets and blankets as he sucks a hickey into your bikini line. Slick runs its way down your swollen folds and tears cling to your lash line as you try to be obedient and patient, the lapping of his tongue only inches away from your sex making it nearly impossible for you to be.
"What do you need, sweetheart?" Your boyfriend asks you, sounding drunk and dazed off the taste of you. Your ring settles in between your breasts as you inch yourself up into a sitting position, your lips slick with spit and your eyes feeling ablaze. Jason sucks once last mark into the skin of your hip, before raising himself up on his knees, his large ringed hand encircling itself around your limb to keep your leg hooked on his shoulder.
"I want you," you breathe, your eyes darting over his facial features as you watch him take in your words. Jason's eyes widen as you reach down to try and grasp at the waistband of his checkered boxers, his own inhalation getting trapped in his chest once you're able to delicately run your fingertips over his hardened shaft. "I want you, all the way. I want us to be each other's firsts."
The hand holding your leg up, runs its way down to grasp onto your own, the other coming up to cup your chin and tug you in even closer. Your rising smile turns shy as your nose bumps against his, the desperation and hunger you felt earlier turning into a gentle pitter of desire as you look back into his softening gaze. "I always wanted you to be my first, and I always knew you were going to be, baby," he murmurs to you in a placating and calm tone, his lips brushing against yours in a light caress with every word he speaks. Jason licks his own set as he brings his thumb up to press it into your bottom one, his gaze hardening as you peek your tongue out to run it along his slightly trembling fingertip. "Are you sure you're ready?"
You place a gentle kiss on his digit, before smiling against the skin, lowering your leg down to wrap it alongside his middle instead. Bringing his hand down to your neck and him into an opened mouth, shared breath of a kiss, you swallow his moan and carefully lie yourself back down with him on top of you.
"Never been more sure of anything in my life."
⭒
You gasp around a stuttered exhale as Jason carefully runs a finger through your folds, forcing your eyes to stay open and on him as he takes his time with you. Gentle pecks are placed from the crown of your head, down to the precipice of your jawline. His now free cock bumps against your shaking thigh, as he rubs his thumb against your jack hammering clit and grazes his index finger near your fluttering entrance.
"Please." You stammer, nearly stutter, beg. Jason presses his grin against your skin, before slowly and carefully sliding the pad of his digit inside of you. A sigh of relief bellows its way out from in between your kiss chapped and soring lips at the slight relief, the sound turning silent as your boyfriend shapes and curves his finger upward. He pauses once his second knuckle makes direct contact with the tightening walls of your sex, only pushing back and creating space in between you two to be able to look down and watch the rest of his finger disappear inside of you.
"So fucking beautiful, knew you'd be worth the wait." He speaks out loud in a wonderous and awed tone, his cockhead jumping and spurting out a translucent, warm pearl of pre-ejaculate as he slowly pumps his digit in and out of you. You reach down to encircle your hand around his wrist, looking up at him with muted desperation as the sound of your slick accumulating on his palm becomes audible and echoed. Jason carefully adds his middle finger alongside his index, making sure to stimulate your clit to help distract you from the uncommon stretch.
You moan loudly and preen forward as a sharp spike of arousal crashes into you and warms your gut, Jason's smile turning triumphant as he relentlessly twists and prods at your spongelike spot. "There it is," He announces, lapping at his bottom lip hungrily as he watches your essence begin to run down his wrist and collect where your own hand rested. Your hips raise from the bed once again, and your boyfriend encourages the movement by wrapping a hand around your cloying waist. "That's right, ride my fingers."
Sweat drips down your neck and makes its way down to your bouncing breasts as you thrust and move your hips as best and as fast as you can, careening in short spurts every time he leans forward to lick and lap at every inch of your body he can get to without faltering his own thrusts. "Such a good fucking girl." He pants, his own chest feeling tight and overexerted as he watches you use him for your own pleasure.
You gape and shallowly suck in breaths as you lift your hips up and down, twitching in near overstimulation as Jason taps and abuses your clit and incessantly prods at your g-spot, his name being the only word continuously repeated as your orgasm quickly approaches. The last thing you see is Jason removing his hand and your own going slack, before he dips down to harshly suck at your clit with his enthusiastic mouth, and your release causes your vision to whiten and blur. Your thighs tighten and bracket him in, the sensation of his reddish-brown hair cascading down your legs feeling like a comforting, ghostlike touch as you fight to catch your breath and will yourself to stop seizing.
Strong, reassuring hands grip your lower half in place as he continues to suck a mark into your pussy, only stopping after you sob and nearly begin to convulse and shy away. Soft kisses are placed and traveled upward, his mouth only able to make it past your bellybutton once you relax and come back to enough to realize he's trying to move. Your breath is nearly stable by the time he makes it up to you and you're both face to face, the glistening sheen on his chin and upper neck enough to make you chortle out a laugh and turn your head in jubilant mortification.
His cleaner hand comes up to brush the hair out of your face, his grin wide and satisfied as he bends down to share the taste of your own slick and release with you. You open your mouth compliantly as he licks his way back in and curls his tongue to massage it on the roof of your mouth. You take in your own musk and taste as he feeds it to you, giggling into his mouth as you somehow manage to turn you both over, so he lands onto his back. Mussed and disorganized curls fan out on the pillows beneath him like a halo, and you look down at him in amazement, before shaking your head.
"God, I love you." You confess, watching as he pauses underneath you, before smiling wide and reaching up to encircle his arms around you, his repeating words to you coming out and sounding like second nature. You both moan as you fully sit down on his lap, your slick still present enough to help you slide against the entirety of his shaft. Lifting your hips to make sure you aren't too sore or tired to attempt to ride him, you carefully reach back and encase your palm around his dick once you don't cramp. You nearly jump as a warm palm flattens itself against your middle to get your attention.
"Baby, if you're sore, we don't have to continue." Jason offers, even as his dick pulsates underneath you enough to let you know his erection is verging on becoming painful. You elongate your thumb to lightly rub it against his cockhead, and grin to yourself as he closes his eyes in bliss. You use your residual and still growing amount of slick as lubricant, and take a deep breath, before steadying yourself with a hand on your boyfriend's groin. Jason shakily raises his hands to enclose them around your hips, his grip only tightening as you guide his cock toward your entrance and tap his weeping tip against it teasingly.
"What did you say about me being the nervous one earlier?" You ask mirthfully, deciding to go easy on him after he whispers out a please, and his dick twitches in your hand. You both let out tightened and whimpered exhales and whines as you slowly take him in and descendant downward, his cockhead being the hardest part of the stretch. Tears spring to your eyes from the realization of what was actually and finally happening, and you tilt your head backwards to blink them out of view. When you look back down, Jason is already looking up at you, his eyes blown wide, and his mouth seemingly stuck in the shape of an O. Your free hand comes down to join your other on his groin for support, while your boyfriend's grip loosens around you and his hands instead rise and lower on your sides to help you relax and loosen up.
"God, you feel like a fucking dream. Doing so well for me already." He compliments and praises, even as he already looks fucked out and close to moving his own hips himself. You send him a shaky smile, before carefully rising to your knees and shifting upward. Jason lifts his legs and plants his feet on the bed behind you, positioning himself to thrust in case you need assistance. You place the majority of your weight on your knees and then the rest on his stomach, the first thrust feeling empty and hallow, until your ass makes contact with his pelvic bone.
"Oh." You whisper around a sob, the first feeling of his cockhead brushing against your cervix overwhelming. You restabilize yourself and then thrust upward again, your movements and hip work quickly becoming fluid and easily repetitive as you chase the deep satiation and the sounds Jason's moaning out. You reach up to interlace your fingers with his after he experimentally fucks upward and meets you in a rough and soundly thrust, your eyes nearly rolling back as he somehow makes it even deeper in you than before.
"Please, baby. Again, again." You plead around choked stammers, your stomach muscles tightening, and your walls milking your boyfriend with every reckless and hardening plunge and thrust. You lean forward and bear down onto his pelvis as he pierces himself into you, the wet sounds of your slick and his prerelease enough to bring a breathless blush to your already blood red cheeks. Thick globs and strings connect you two together as the force of Jason's thrusts nearly have you toppling forward and off of his lap, and you have to instead bring your hands forward to rest them up on his chest as he unintentionally takes over.
"Tell me how good it feels, sweetheart." Jason grunts, his words nearly unintelligible as he continues to fuck into you with reckless abandon, one of his hands sliding down to rest upon your lower stomach. You clutch at it as you struggle to breathe in, your walls vicing and gripping around him so tightly, you can feel the long and thick vein in his dick rubbing alongside your walls.
"So fucking good," you begin, your words slurring off as the now familiar sensation of your orgasm almost comes back barreling through. You look down and make unsteady and tear-filled eye contact with him, his own gaze glazed over and his chest a bright, sweaty red. You place your hand over his heart and nearly gasp at the erratic heartbeat that greets you back in response, before rushing forward as Jason uses his hand on your hip as leverage to bear you down on him as he pegs forward. Tears make their way down your cheeks as you needily suck in aborted breaths of air, your knees failing underneath you and your hand on his chest sliding forward. You both look at each other and stop mid-thrust, before laughing in disbelief. "I think I'm going to cum soon." You say around a hiccupped guffaw. Jason places a kiss on your forehead once you end up chest to chest, and he reaches down to grasp onto one of your hands, before placing it behind your back to hold you in place. Your fingernails dig into his shoulder blade as he uses your joined hands as leverage to drive you back down on his length, as he incessantly pumps his way back into you.
Your spine arches and you forcibly straighten out as he continuously hits that deep rooted spot inside of you, your face crumbling and jaw dropping as Jason reaches down in between you two with his free hand to messily rub at your clit. "Go on then, baby. Make a mess out of me." You're clamping around him and orgasming before he can even finish his sentence, so tightly his thrusts are forced to slow down. Heat coils and snaps in your middle, and you settle on a silent wail as you feel your release exit and drip down to the bottom of your boyfriend's ballsack, even as your walls continue to narrow and attempt to milk him dry. Jason manages to grind twice more, before his balls tighten and raise, and he's shooting his seed into you. You slump forward and rest your head on his shoulder, exhaustion weighing you down.
Heavy pants fill the now overly quiet bedroom, and you carefully sit yourself up, making sure to keep him inside of you as you do so. You brush the tendrils of stray hairs out of your eyesight and off of your face, and bite back a grin as peer down at your boyfriend. A wide, satiated and worn-out grin overtakes his face, yet it softens into a wistful smile when he amorously looks up at you.
"How was that for a first time?" Jason asks you humorously and shellshocked, his tone falling short and turning into a resounding gulp as you tighten around him instead of verbally answering. You lean down and tilt his chin up, before deliberately kissing him, and humming contently as you lick the taste of yourself off of his mouth.
"How about we go for a second in a little while, and then you can ask me again?" You're flipped on your back and crowded in before you can even react, matching wide smiles and laughter ricocheting off your bedroom's four walls when you do.
warnings: smut, kinda insecure reader, inexperienced reader, age gap, couch sex, unprotected piv, creampie, maybe breeding kink idk, fingering, oral sex (m receiving), pussy slapping (like once), LOTS of praise, dave teaches her how to give a hj/bj, pet names (sweetheart, baby, darlin'), tiny itty bit of overstim, soft dave but also a little mean dave at the beginning
words: 2.3k
a/n: not proof read and also might be bad cuz im a bit out of practice :3 feeding the dbf!dave girlies even though im not hyperfixated on megadeth rn!!!! enjoy guys, COME GET YOUR FOOD MWAH <3
CLICK HERE FOR PT.1
ever since your little fling with dave, he’s been plaguing your thoughts more than usual…daydreams of his thick fingers inside of you, wet dreams involving him pinning you down and having his way with you. no matter how hard you try to ignore the thoughts and push them away, they always return stronger. sometimes, you wonder if he ever thinks about you as well, if he touches himself to the memory of your tight cunt.
surely, he notices your lingering stares when he comes over to watch sports with your dad, right? surely, he notices that you’re completely and absolutely in love with him, right…?
it’s like you don’t even exist to him anymore; were you really that bad of a lay? thoughts raced through your head. did you do something wrong? did he not like how your body looked? were you too inexperienced for him? you were startled from your thoughts when a hand laid on your shoulder. looking to your left, you see that familiar head of curly orange hair.
"oh, hey dave. sorry. i was just lost in thought," you mumble, turning to look up at him.
dave hums at your words, “no worries, sweetheart. your dad just ran to the store, wanted me to tell you he’d be gone ‘bout an hour or two.”
your eyes follow him as he walks around the couch and sits beside you. “so, what was goin’ on in that pretty head of yours, hm?” he smiles, locking eyes with you. it was as if he could see straight through you.
“just thinking about…college stuff,” you murmur, eyes breaking away from his and looking down at your clasped hands.
“school stuff, hm? there’s no reason to lie to me, sweetheart.” he places a hand on your bare knee, and you jump slightly at the touch.
“i know, sorry. my brain is just all kinds of messy right now.” you sigh.
“you wanna talk about it?” he asks as his thumb rubs comforting circles over your thigh.
you go silent, trying to decide if you should just ask if you’ve done something wrong. your brain is screaming at you not to do it, and your stomach churns at the thought of him confirming all your insecurities.
with a burst of courage, you blurt out the question that’s been haunting you, “did i do something wrong?”
dave’s face scrunches in confusion, “what makes you think you did something wrong, sweetheart?”
“y’know, the last time we were…alone…together. i can tell you’ve been avoiding me since then. i thought maybe i did something wrong or something you didn’t like if you were staying away from me…” you ramble, moving your hands wildly while explaining yourself.
“shit, sweetheart…m’sorry. you didn’t do anything wrong; you were perfect. i was keeping my distance from you ’cause i thought you’d be disgusted by me.” he laughs, scooting closer to you on the couch and sliding his hand higher up your thigh.
“i could never be disgusted by you.” you giggle, resisting the urge to press your thighs together at his touch.
“is that right…” he hums, a smirk forming on his lips.
all of a sudden, his lips are on yours. you moan in surprise, hands coming to wrap around his neck. the kiss is desperate but sweet at the same time, as if he’s trying to make up for causing you to stress. his hand continues under your skirt, knuckles rubbing over your damp panties. Dave’s other hand cups your face, deepening the kiss and slipping his tongue into your mouth.
you gasp when he slides your panties to the side and runs a finger through your folds. “shit, sweetheart… so wet for me already.” he groans into the kiss. you buck your hips up into his hand, silently asking for more.
“mmh-, my baby is so fucking greedy.” dave growls, slipping a finger inside of your cunt. his cock grows hard from the noises you’re making–your soft mewls are music to his ears. dave slips another finger inside of you slowly, stretching you out nicely. once you adjust to the new addition, dave picks up his pace–fingers pistoning in and out of you.
“fuck, this pussy is so sloppy for me, baby…all for me, ain’t that right, sweetheart?” dave grunts, looking you in the eyes.
you struggle to give him an answer–the pleasure already too much for you. As you try to speak, the only things that come out are strained moans and half-formed curses.
“fuckin’ answer me, baby.” dave growls, pulling his fingers out of you and landing a harsh slap on your sensitive cunt. your body jumps at the impact, crying out from the pain.
“shit- yes! all for you- all for you…” you whine tearfully, hands moving to grip his hair.
“good girl,” dave praises, rubbing your clit, before slipping his fingers back into your drooling pussy. his pace is brutal, and he doesn’t let up–not even when fat tears start to roll down your cheeks. one of the hands that’s threaded into his hair moves to grip his wrist, trying to slow him down–but he doesn’t relent.
dave pushes you down to lay on your back with his free hand before snatching both of your wrists and pinning them above your head. He can tell you’re close by the way you squirm underneath him, frantically bucking your hips into his hand.
“that’s it, sweetheart. let go for me.” dave coos as you come undone. your body shakes, thighs clamping shut around dave’s hand at the intensity of your orgasm.
your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath. dave gives you time to recover, gently rubbing your thigh before leaving to grab you a glass of water. you thank him when he returns to the living room, and you down the glass quickly.
“wanna help you now,” you mumble shyly, pushing him back against the couch before sinking to your knees in front of him, “this is my first time doin’ this…” you admit.
“fuck…you’re so perfect for me, sweetheart. letting an old man like me take all your firsts,” he groans, “gonna let me be the first one to fuck your pretty little angel cunt too, hm?”
you nod softly, looking away from him in embarrassment. he chuckles at your shyness before grabbing your hand and placing it over his bulge.
“here, let me teach ya how it’s done,” he smiles, “first, you gotta take it out, ‘kay?”
you nod again, pulling the zipper down and helping him slip out of his jeans. you’re a little intimidated, but he reassures you that you can back out anytime.
you reach into his boxers and wrap your hand around his cock; it’s a bit weird at first, but you eventually get used to the feeling and feel confident enough to pull his boxers down and let his cock spring free. dave praises you sweetly and helps guide you through it.
“go ahead and spit on it now, sweetheart,” he commands softly, stroking your hair. you do exactly as he says, gathering spit in your mouth and letting it drip from your lips onto the head of his cock.
“good,” he smiles, “now use your hand to spread it around–use a little pressure, but don’t squeeze too hard.”
you follow his instructions, stroking up and down and occasionally squeezing lightly. dave groans softly, watching you with lustful eyes. he swears he almost cums when he sees your wide, curious eyes staring up at him.
“you’re doing amazing for me, baby…use your thumb to rub the tip–and if it feels like it’s getting dry, spit on it some more.”
you let some more spit fall onto his dick, using your thumb to spread it around his tip. hesitantly, you lean down and give the tip a small lick. your cunt clenches at the sound dave makes. testing the waters, you give it another lick before wrapping your lips around the tip. dave has to fight the urge to buck his hips up and bury his cock deep in your warm throat.
“fuck- didn’t even have to tell you to put it in your mouth,” he groans and threads a hand in your hair, “take your time, sweetheart. you don’t gotta rush.”
you try to smile at him before taking his cock further into your mouth. you revel in the small grunts and sighs dave makes, thighs clenching at the erotic sounds. as you try to take him deeper, you gag around his cock and quickly pull off to catch your breath. dave hums at your messy face, the tears pooling in the corner of your eyes making his dick twitch. he softly raises his hand to caress your cheek, encouraging you to take him back into your mouth.
“gonna let me fuck your throat, sweetheart?” dave questions, “i promise i’ll be gentle.”
you hum in agreement around his cock, whining when he threads his hand into your hair. dave slowly thrusts up into your mouth, and your throat constricts around him as he pushes deeper and deeper. his free hand wipes the tears from your eyes, and he coos at you softly. he groans when he bottoms out in your throat.
“shiiit- you’re doing great, sweetheart. just breathe through your nose, baby–tap my leg a few times if you need me to pull out,” he mumbles, pulling back until just the tip is in your mouth and sliding back in slowly.
dave slowly increases his pace, spouting praise at you as he does so. When you swirl your tongue around his tip and bring a hand up to massage his balls, he knows he’s about to cum. he quickly pulls out of your mouth and pulls you up from the floor before laying you down on the couch.
“need to be inside of you, sweetheart. can’t wait to fill this pretty pussy of yours.” dave groans, pulling your shirt over your head and panties down your legs.
“hot even wearin’ a bra, huh–so fuckin’ desperate for me…you wanted this to happen, didn’t you.” he teases, hands groping at your bare tits.
you whine, nodding feverishly and bucking your hips up into him. dave chuckles at your impatience. your body twitches when you feel dave spit down onto your already sopping cunt a few times. dave guides his cock to your cunt, slipping between your pussy lips and rocking back and forth. your mouth opens with a silent whine when the head of his cock catches on your clit as he rocks forward.
“gonna put it in now, sweetheart. try to relax for me, i want this to be as comfortable for you as possible,” dave states, pushing your legs up towards your chest and guiding his cock to your entrance.
you keen at the stretch, wincing slightly as your cunt opens up for him. “that’s it…breathe for me, baby–just relax.” he murmurs sweetly.
dave continues pushing deeper into your tight pussy, groaning as your warm walls flutter around his length. he pauses as he bottoms out, allowing you time to breathe and adjust to his size, all while muttering praise in your ear.
“think i’m ready for you to move, baby…” you whine, rocking your hips slightly into his.
dave smiles at you before he pulls out and thrusts back in gently. your eyes roll back into your head as he begins thrusting into you at a steady pace. you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him into a messy kiss. dave swallows the pretty noises you make as he fucks you, revelling in your pleasure.
“you can move faster-” you moan, breaking the kiss and looking him in the eyes.
“you sure, sweetheart?” he questions, slowing down his thrusts and waiting for you to confirm. you nod, giving him the go-ahead to speed up.
it’s like a switch flips inside of him–he pushes your legs even closer to your chest and fucks into you quickly. your head falls back onto the couch's armrest, fingers clawing at his shoulders in pleasure. dave’s hips piston in and out of you, your sloppy cunt squelching with each thrust.
your back arches off of the couch when he snakes his hand down to play with your swollen clit. your body feels like it’s on fire, the pleasure quickly becoming too much.
“hnng- think im gonna cum! fuck-” you cry out, voice breaking as tears spill from your eyes.
“Shh, sweetheart. you can let go, c’mon, cum for me like a good girl.” he coos, fingers still rubbing circles on your clit as he picks up his pace.
Your body shakes as you start to cum, and your vision goes spotty. your arms hold onto dave’s shoulders for dear life as your body convulses. dave continues thrusting in and out of your cunt, overstimulating your poor, sensitive pussy.
“keep clenchin’ around me, just like that, sweetheart,” he growls, his pace faltering ever so slightly. “fuuuck- gonna fuckin’ ruin this gorgeous angel cunt of yours, baby–fill you up so good you’ll be leakin’ for weeks.”
dave groans, pushing his hips flush with yours when he cums, pumping you full of his warm, sticky cum. your pussy flutters around him, milking him of every last drop. dave’s head drops into the crook of your neck, and he presses soft kisses to the skin there. you stroke his back as he lays on top of you, a smile pulling on your lips.
“i think i’m in love with you,” you mutter softly.
dave’s ears perk up at your words–he lifts his head to look at you, “you really mean that, sweetheart?”
“of course I do,” you affirm, moving your hands to hold his face and pull him up into a loving kiss.
“i love you too,” he murmurs into the kiss, “but we might wanna get dressed…i don’t think your dad would appreciate seeing us cuddled up naked on the couch,” he laughs.
