Send me a Ship and a Number and I will Write a Kiss
4. …where it hurts.
let’s have some dusan/reader maybe?
“What on Earth have you gotten yourself into now, Nemec?” Dusan Nemec averts his gaze at your tone and use of his last name, not particularly wanting to meet your eyes.
You pause in your search for neosporin to look at your boyfriend in exasperation. Because really? He does some stupid shit like actually meeting a member of DedSec and setting up a cop bust on him, and he expects you to just accept it when he comes home with a busted lip and a black eye.
“Dusan,” you say, and he looks back up at you. “You’re such an idiot.”
He sneers, and then winces as it tugs on the split in his lip. “I do what I have to do,” he tells you. “You know that.”
Your hands clench around the first aid kit for a moment before you let it go and face him, eyes narrowed in such a scowl that a lesser man might have been intimidated.
“You have to be an idiot? You have to, to, to entertain these hackers? You have to put yourself at risk?” He opens his mouth to argue and you cut him off, “No! You don’t have an explanation for this, Dusan! You’re playing their stupid little games and a punch is going to be the least of it at the end!”
When you’re done, Dusan raises his eyebrows. “Feel better?” he asked in that almost patronizing tone he has perfected. “I’m not playing any games. I’m going to topple DedSec, and if I have a little fun doing it there isn’t any harm.”
You stare very pointedly at his bloodied lip and blossoming black eye. “No harm, huh?” you snark.
“If you’re so worried,” Dusan says, “then patch me up.” Oh, you really could smack the smirk right off of his face but that would defeat the purpose of trying to patch him up in the first place. “Better yet… Maybe you should kiss it better.”
Almost instantly, you scoff. “What are you, five years old?”
The pout on his face would be believable if he wasn’t, well, Dusan fucking Nemec and you didn’t live with him and deal with his shit every single day.
“You can’t even give me a single kiss better instead of yelling at me?” he whines.
This man… “You deserve more than being yelled at,” you inform him as you step between his knees. “Where does it hurt, stupid?”
“Here,” he says smartly, tapping his mouth.
“I see.”
“I’m afraid it’s quite urgent. If it’s not kissed better soon, the patient might not make it.”
You roll your eyes. “You’re really something, you know that?”
Before he can answer, you do as you’re asked and kiss him where it hurts.
Synopsis: You move into a new apartment after downsizing, and your hot neighbor overhears you indulging a fantasy of him.
Tagging (ask to be added for Christoph!): @bungeewabbit @booklover2929 @mysticaltimemachinewench @fangirlandnerd @agent221b
You hold the phone to your ear.
"You're insane, (y/n). You haven't even been there a month, and you're already fully willing to fuck your neighbor."
You smirk, unzipping your hoodie as you plop down in a chair and talk to your friend.
"What can I say? He's a real daddy next door, if you catch my drift."
"I'm way past catching your drift. You may as well walk over there and knock on his door in your bra and panties."
"I thought about that last week, and then common sense hit me," you mumble, peering out your window.
"Thank god for that."
About a month ago after you had downsized, you had moved into the complex, as your friend had said, and it had been, for better or for worse, right beside a very, very attractive individual. His name is Dušan Marković, and he's the cocky, rich man who also lives here in the collection of flats. You see him leaving, coming in sometimes, in the elevator-- neighborly spots. But every time, it was as if his smile got wider upon seeing you.
Now, it had been a long time since you had been seeing anyone, so Dusan had been the perfect mirage in the desert for you. Why shouldn't you have a little fun after downsizing?
You walk out of your apartment, carrying a bucket of laundry and thinking about your next door neighbor. As you're picturing his endearing little smirk and mane of silver curls, the elevator dings, and you come face to face with--
"Mr. Markovich," you say, stepping into the elevator. He's wearing a loose brown button up with cargo shorts that make it obvious he's not wearing anything under them. He shamelessly runs his eyes over your body, taking in your booty shorts especially with a smirk.
"You just moved in next door, mmm," he muses, "(y/n), yes?"
"Yes sir," you nod.
"Please (y/n), I must insist you call me Dusan. Shorter name makes room for longer other things, eh?" he winks, and you smile a little, biting your lip. He takes notice of the bucket in your arms, and leans back against the elevator walls-- his top four buttons are undone on his shirt, and it's raising your body temperature fast.
"Why do you do your own?" he asks bluntly.
"What? Laundry?" you ask.
He nods. "There are so many people below you who can do it, why go to all that trouble?"
"Below me?" you repeat, actually looking down.
"I do not mean people below you physically in apartment, funny girl," he grins, "I mean less important people."
"Like who?" you scoff.
"Like people who do people's laundry," he smiles, lighting a cigar as if there was no law in sight about smoking in elevators.
"I'm fine with doing my own," you say slowly, smiling. He looks at you curiously.
"You... you're like Paul. You know Paul from downstairs? He's nice guy, little bit pathetic guy. You're nice girl..." he hums, "But... you're not pathetic girl, I don't think." He huffs a laugh, taking a drag on his cigar. "Enjoy your dirty clothing."
"I will," you smirk, and exit the elevator. You can feel his eyes shamelessly ogling you as you walk off, and you take a deep breath in.
Oh god. The way he was lounging in there like he didn't give a fuck, shirt open, shamelessly checking you out-- he always seemed to act like this. It turned you on and sent signals through your body your brain didn't have time to adjust to. You quickly shove your laundry in, and get upstairs, thinking of undoing those last few buttons.
----
A little later in the evening, after you had finished your load of clothes and everything else you needed to do today, you settle in in your camisole and panties to read. As you try and focus on your book though, your mind starts to wander. You grin as you start to imagine Dusan's hands on your thighs, that smirking face between your knees. You bet he eats pussy like a master.
Your eyes slide shut as you let the book fall, and your hands go beneath the covers, all the heat from running into your sexy neighbour earlier in the day returning. Your pussy throbs, aching to be filled as you begin to rub your clit in small circles, breathing heavily as you dip one, two fingers inside of yourself.
"Oh god," you whisper, "Oh, Dusan..." You add a third finger, imagining just how big he is, and bite your lip as another moan rips out. You continue to rub your clit furiously and finger yourself, going deeper each time, deeper still until you reach that spot and curve--
"Agh," you give a broken cry, picturing Dusan smiling at you, with that silver hair and those squinting eyes, ohfuckdaddy...
He would lick his fingers one by one as he tastes you and groans. "So wet for me," he would mumble, "Such a beautiful girl for me."
Your head presses back into the pillow, biting down hard on your bottom lip as you try to stay quiet.
Wait a minute-- you don't have a roommate anymore. You don't have to worry about anyone living with you, so you can be as loud as you want.
"Oh, Dusan!" you moan, pretending he's fucking you hard, whispering dirty in your ear, "Dusan, fuck... ugh, fuck me harder! Harder, harder, right there, oh..." you curve your fingers again, wetness coating your hand by now, "Fuck yeah, right there baby...."
You're so close you can taste it, and just as you're about to slide home and make yourself come on your fingers, you hear the doorbell ring.
Your eyes fly open, and you pause what you're doing in mortal fear. Waiting for a second, you see if they'll go away... it might be Konrad from downstairs, introducing himself.
At 8:00 at night? Un-fucking-likely.
You swallow and wait for longer, but the doorbell sounds again.
"Shit," you whisper, and get up, cleaning up and padding over to the door. Your thighs rub together, your pussy still desperate for an orgasm, but you try to ignore the throbbing as you make it to your front door.
"Yeah?" you ask uncomfortably, rubbing your thighs together and swinging the door open. You see a smiling face grinning right back at yours.
"Enjoying your evening, (y/n)?"
Your insides churn, and it's all you can do not to moan.
"D-Dusan," you say, leaning against the door in a more than suggestive way, "How are you?" He's dressed in a navy blue bathrobe, with sandals on his feet.
"I have to be honest," he says, leaning in with a furtive look, "You've got me a little horny."
Your mouth falls open. "E...excuse me?"
He waves a hand. "No need to play around, (y/n). I heard you calling my name."
You pale. "Oh god..."
"Yes, exactly like that," he nods, "These walls are paper thin, we can't hide a thing from one another." He laughs, winking. You swallow, a blush heating your cheeks. "Now-- I thought to myself-- Dusan, you should be a good neighbor and come offer to..." he shrugs, "Help the pretty lady out with her predicament."
"M-my predicament," you breathe.
"Uh huh," he smiles, glancing down your body.
"Dusan..." you bite you lip, and then takes a step closer.
"If you want what I think you want, kitten, I have no reservations whatsoever about taking you in here by your hair and fucking you over your kitchen table until you cannot stand anymore." Your pussy throbs again.
"Fucking hell," you mutter, running a hand through your hair.
"I know," he laughs, shrugging. "I'm a little bit asshole. But the world needs assholes!" he grins, then his smile slowly disappears into a lustful leer. "Wouldn't it feel better if you tried the real thing?"
You moan, and kick your door open. Fuck it-- there was no way you were turning this down.
His lips immediately crash into yours as the door falls shut behind you both. Dusan reaches back to lock it blindly as you two kiss your way to the coffee table, surprisingly skilled at this. You can tell that he's grinning through the kiss, and you giggle a little as he lifts you up to sit on the table.
"Now," he murmurs, grazing his thumb across your cheek, "Where to start on this gorgeous body of yours?"
"Oh," you moan, arching your back as your breasts stick out. He nods.
"Marvelous idea."
With that, he bunches up your shirt, and holds his hands up over your breasts. He gives you a glance to make sure he hasn't, in fact, misjudged this entire situation, but you quickly nod. His hands close to massage your breasts, making you moan for it.
"Dusan..."
"Yes," he says, "I want to hear my name as many times as I can tonight."
"Please," you whine, and he smiles, patting your hip.
"Do as I say. Take shirt off for me."
You do as he says.
"Good girl." His praise makes you wetter. "Now turn around for me, and spread your legs."
You bite back another moan, but he encourages you to be louder, so you let yourself groan out his name. He positions himself behind you, rocking his hips against your ass and grinding. Your fingernails dig into the tablecloth, and he holds his cock, teasing your wet folds with it.
"Fuck me," you moan, and he hums.
"You're mouthy, aren't you? Do not worry. Dusan will make you feel better." He chuckles before bottoming out, and you feel the burn of him stretching you. "Mm... when I downsized, not everything got smaller, hm?" he sets off laughing again, and you smile. He's just as big as you imagined, bigger, and his words of encouragement are bringing you closer and closer to coming.
"Yes... that's it," he groans, his head falling back ad he fucks you from behind, "Oh, so tight..."
"Ah! Deeper," you gasp, and Dusan places a hand on his chest.
"My love, if my girl wants something, she's going to have to ask nicely."
"Please..." you sob, "Daddy, can I have you deeper?"
He smirks. "That's what I like to hear."
With that, he fucks even harder, each thrust moving the table back. He finally starts to breathe irregularly, his breath coming out in short heaves, and you know he's close. Working yourself back on him, you moan and squeal like a whore as he reaches around to rub your clit.
"Ohhh," you bite your lip, and he chuckles low in his throat.
"I have hit the jackpot, haven't I?"
"Yes! Oh god, yes!"
"Say my name."
"Dusan!"
"Agh," he pushes far in, and his hips stutter as he tries to take a deep breath. "Are you--?"
"I'm... I'm--!" you gasp, feeling a dizzying orgasm come on, "Dusan, oh my god!"
"Ahhh," he growls as he comes at the same time as you, skin slapping skin desperately the only sound around you.
"Ohh," he smirks, the both of you now lying face up on your floor, "Like I said. You nice girl... but you little bit nasty girl." He spanks your ass playfully.
You giggle, laying on top of his chest.
About an hour later, Dusan had done up his blue robe again, tied only around his hips, and you had slipped panties back on. You both had had an after sex snack in a bubble bath, and once the tray of dinner-party-esque wine and cheese had been finished, you walk him to the door, sighing in contentment.
"So. (y/n). You need help again?" Dusan leans against your front door frame. "Ask me anytime. Remember-- I am your neighbor." He shrugs causally. "I am obligated to do my neighborly duties. Especially when they involve the sexiest girl I've ever seen."
You smirk his way with a little wave, and he saunters back home with a satisfied sigh. You close the door and grin. If you had known he would be part of the package, you would have downsized a lot sooner.
