One year after your divorce, you runs into your ex husband at a friend's birthday party. Neither of you expected to see each other again, and neither of you had prepared for the memories that come with it.
You and Sukuna had been married for three beautiful years, a time when your life felt completely over the moon. It was happy, peaceful, and everything you had ever wished for. In those early stages, you both thoroughly enjoyed your lives together. You went on endless dates and had sex in every location you could possibly think of.
Even on the kitchen counter and yeah even public bathroom, you never regret any of that.
That was your life with Sukuna laughing until your stomach physically hurt, sitting lazily on his lap, and watching cheesy romantic comedies. Even though he always complained that they were so boring and dramatic, you both had watched 'She’s the Man' at least six times, and he always watched it with full interest just because you were there.
He was a good man. Even though others constantly portrayed him as an arrogant asshole with an ego as high as the Burj Khalifa, or a ruthless bastard who would beat the shit out of anyone for looking at him wrong, he was never that way with you.
With you, he was something entirely different. He was the only person who made you feel completely safe in his arms. You loved spending every second with him. You and Sukuna genuinely couldn't live without each other, and he was always more than proud to admit it. He was a busy man and so were you. you worked long hours at the hospital, and he was a highly successful architect, but the dates and the effortless romance were always a priority. He would patiently paint your nails while you talked his ear off about the latest hospital gossip or a new show you were watching. And he always listened. He truly did.
If you ever felt sick, he was right there. He would immediately take a day off work just to look after you, because you were his. His sweet girl.
The age gap between you was just two years. You had initially met in high school as bitter enemies who absolutely couldn't stand the sight of each other, only to end up as husband and wife who couldn't bear to be apart.
When you turned twenty nine, you got pregnant, and Sukuna was absolutely over the world. He was so happy. He always found a way to hold your growing baby bump, gently squeezing it and kissing your skin, loving you even more with each passing day.
One afternoon, while you were standing in the kitchen making tea, Sukuna wrapped his arms around you from behind. He placed both of his large, rough hands over the small baby bump that was still growing. "I bet it's going to be a girl" he murmured gently, pressing soft, warm kisses against your neck.
Both of you simply wanted a healthy, fit child. the gender never truly mattered. Sukuna built and prepared the nursery entirely by himself. You both decorated it or rather, you sat comfortably in a chair and gave directions while Sukuna did all the hard labor, because he refused to let you lift a single finger.
Life was perfect. It was just like a fairy tale.
But fairy tales only exist in movies and books, not in real life.
You miscarried. You were driving home from the hospital after a long shift. Sukuna had called and told you to wait at the hospital until he could come pick you up, but you had refused. You told him that you had your own car, and that there was no point in him making the extra trip.
If only you had waited that day, maybe things would have turned out differently. The horrific car crash happened too fast, right in front of your eyes. A massive truck slammed directly into your vehicle with enough force to kill you, and a part of you deeply wished it had. At least then you wouldn't have had to live through the agony of losing your baby girl. It was a girl. You were seven months pregnant, and the doctors had to cut your stomach open in an emergency procedure just to take the lifeless infant out.
That loss completely broke both you and Sukuna. You fell into a deep, suffocating depression. Sukuna stopped working entirely for a solid month just to remain by your side, pulling you through every violent nightmare and every painful bout of crying.
He supported you constantly, even though he was losing himself, too. He had lost his daughter, and he had nearly lost his wife.
But your severe depression eventually led to you getting constantly annoyed over the smallest things. You started making wild, baseless accusations, claiming Sukuna was cheating on you. Deep down, you felt absolutely pathetic, but you couldn't stop. Sukuna never snapped back. he understood the immense trauma you were carrying. It went on like that for a year you constantly ignored him or showed him a terrible attitude over nothing. He was getting tired. Not tired of you he could never be tired of you. but completely exhausted by the toxic wall you had built between you.
And when he finally sighed one evening and told you to stop acting like a bitch, you completely lost it.
"Oh?! So I am the bitch?!" you had yelled at the top of your lungs, tears streaming down your face. "Really? Fuck you, Sukuna! I fucking wish I never married you! I fucking hate you!"
He never answered. He just stood there, glaring at you with a deeply broken expression before he turned and left the house.
After that night, he started drinking heavily and smoking even more. Everything came to a sudden, crashing end far too quickly. You moved out of the shared house, refusing to take a single dime of alimony because you didn't want anything from him. And just like that, after a quick and quiet divorce, it was completely over.
Now, a year later, you stood in front of the mirror, smoothing down a beautiful, elegant baby blue silk dress. It was completely backless, making you look incredibly chic and sophisticated. Your hair was tied up into a perfectly styled messy bun, your makeup was done effortlessly, and you wore expensive, elegant heels.
You walked toward the large house where Shoko's twin babies were celebrating their first birthday. You felt genuinely happy for her. Maybe a tiny, subconscious part of you felt a slight sting of jealousy seeing your friends move forward with their families, but you were genuinely thrilled for them. Your own love life was alright. you dated on and off, having casual sex whenever you felt the need for physical affection. Mostly, you spent your days shopping and treating yourself, because you deserved it.
You had been consistently going to therapy ever since the tragedy, and it was helping.
Taking a deep, steady breath just like your therapist had taught you to do you prepared to knock on the front door. But you quickly realized it was useless, as the loud sounds of laughter and chatter were echoing from the backyard. Shoko and her husband, Suguru, had rented this beautiful, massive estate for a week to celebrate. They were such a wonderful couple.
Holding the beautifully wrapped gift bags tightly in your hands, you walked around the side of the house toward the backyard. The spacious lawn was packed with people, covered in colorful clusters of balloons, and centered around a massive table loaded with delicious food. At least you knew you could enjoy the catering.
You walked gently over to Shoko, who was currently holding one of the twins. You didn't look around the crowd too much, not caring to see who else was there, since you had cut off most of your old social circle after the divorce.
"Oh my god! Look who's here! Auntie is looking so pretty!" Shoko cooed in a sweet baby voice, rocking the infant in her arms.
You giggled softly, walking right up to them to press a loud, loving kiss against the baby girl's chubby cheek. "Muah! My beautiful baby girl is getting so big! Where is the other one?" you asked, hugging Shoko tightly and kissing her cheek.
"Thanks, bitch! The other one just completely shit herself, you know how it is," Shoko laughed, rolling her eyes. "Suguru is upstairs changing her diaper right now. By the way, you are absolutely glowing!"
You smiled gently. "Thank you, Sho, Motherhood definitely suits you, but for God Sake stop cursing in front of this cutie pie." You leaned down to kiss little Lily again, and she gave you a wide, gummy smile that completely melted your heart.
"Alright, alright, whatever the Boss says" Shoko winked playfully. "Anyway, Suguru invited a ton of hot men today, so if you're looking to find a good one, keep your eyes open."
You shook your head, laughing softly at her antics. "Sure, Sho. Here, take the gifts. And I think this little one needs a diaper change now, too." you added, pointing at the telltale smell suddenly drifting from Lily.
Shoko made a comical, disgusted face. She quickly grabbed the bags, blew you a kiss, and hurried off toward the house.
Left alone, you felt a sudden wave of boredom. You recognized a few familiar faces in the crowd, but every single one of them was wrapped up with their partners and their children. Deciding to skip the awkward small talk, you headed inside the main house to use the restroom.
As you stepped through the back doors, you could hear Suguru and Shoko playfully bickering over the diaper changes in the next room, making you chuckle softly.
"Hey, Y/N! How are you? It's been a while!" Suguru called out warmly, spotting you near the hallway.
"I'm doing really well, Suguru. What about you?" you called back, pausing by the stairs.
"Just trying to adjust to fatherhood," he said with a friendly, tired smile. "Go ahead and enjoy yourself today!"
You nodded appreciatively and began walking upstairs, adjusting the silk of your dress. The blue fabric flowed elegantly with every step, clinging beautifully to your curves. You stared at the various doors in the upper hallway, wondering what kind of massive estate Shoko had actually rented. There were so many rooms, and absolutely none of them had a bathroom sign on them.
Sighing, you opened a random door just to see if it was a restroom, closing it behind you when you realized it was just a simple bedroom. Turning around to leave, you felt someone turn the doorknob from the other side at the exact same time. The door swung open abruptly, catching you off guard. In the sudden movement, one of your expensive earrings slipped from your earlobe and clattered to the floor.
"Tsk! Stupid" you muttered under your breath, immediately bending down to retrieve it.
But before your fingers could touch the jewelry, another hand reached down and picked it up. Your entire life completely stopped. Your breath caught in your throat. You could forget almost anything in this world, but you could never, ever forget those large, rough, heavily tattooed hands.
"Here" Sukuna said lazily.
As he held the earring out, his sharp gaze finally met yours, and he froze completely. He had just been wandering the halls looking for a bathroom to take a quick piss, casually opening doors, and now he deeply regretted it.
You were standing right there in front of him, looking absolutely beautiful out of this world beautiful. How long had it been? A year? Maybe even longer since he had last seen your face. He had tried asking Suguru about how you were doing a few times, but their mutual friends had never given him much information.
You quickly snatched the earring from his rough palm, your fingers trembling slightly as you tried to clip it back onto your ear. He stood directly in the doorway, his massive frame making it incredibly hard for you to move or slide past him.
"Excuse me" you murmured sharply, keeping your eyes trained on your hands as you struggled with the jewelry.
"Y/n?" he finally spoke.
His voice was just as rough and deep as you remembered. He still smelled exactly the same a distinct blend of expensive cologne and heavy cigarette smoke, a scent you used to love so much. He was wearing a crisp white button down shirt and navy blue trousers, making him look exceptionally handsome and sharp.
"Yeah?" you replied, firmly avoiding eye contact.
"...How have you been?" he asked quietly.
His eyes had softened. They had actually softened in a way that showed he deeply, genuinely cared about the answer. Because he did.
You took a deep, grounding breath, exactly the way your therapist had instructed you to do during moments of high stress. Finally finding the courage, you lifted your chin and met his gaze. The moment your eyes locked, a crushing wave of old memories flashed through your mind, threatening to tear down your composure.
You cleared your throat, forcing your voice to remain steady. "I am good. really well, actually. What about you?"
You began to step forward, intending to finally walk past him now that he had moved slightly to the side. But as you stepped out into the hallway, his long strides fell right into alignment with yours, walking beside you.
"fine" he muttered, looking straight ahead. "I didn't know you were going to be here today."
"I didn't know you'd be here either" you replied, a slight edge to your tone.
"I'm surprised you even came, considering you've been completely ghosting all of our mutual friends." He said making you annoyed
"I haven't been ghosting Shoko," you defended yourself softly. "And why wouldn't I come?"
"Whatever" He muttered, a familiar spark of annoyance rising in your chest.
Sukuna let out a quiet sigh, his eyes lingering on your profile for a brief second. "You look..nice, Y/n. You're glowing. Life has been treating you right, I guess."
"Yeah, it has" you lied smoothly, keeping your chin held high.
"Alright then. See you around," he murmured. He stopped walking, turning back toward the stairs to head down to the party.
You paused for a split second, staring at his retreating back. The heavy, deliberate way he walked, the sharp clench of his jaw every single detail violently reminded you of the old times. Of the life you used to have.
When you finally made your way down to the backyard, your eyes immediately caught sight of Shoko’s mother. You had always deeply disliked that woman. You could never fully pin down why, but she had never liked you either perhaps out of some strange, deep-seated jealousy or bitterness you could never understand.
Your eyes instinctively began scanning the crowded yard, searching for Sukuna. You immediately hated yourself for doing it. But when you finally located him across the lawn, you realized he was already staring directly at you. The moment your eyes met, he sharply snapped his head away, pretending to look at something else.
Eventually, it was time for the highlight of the party. Shoko and Suguru stood behind a massive cake, holding little Lily and Liana as the babies bubbled, babbled, and screamed happily. Everyone gathered around the long banquet table to eat and celebrate. The atmosphere was filled with loud laughter and the clinking of glasses.
By total twist of fate, you found yourself seated right in the middle of Kenjaku and an older lady who was eating her food like a pig. Directly across the table, sitting right in front of you, was Sukuna. Beside him sat Shoko's mother and Suguru.
The conversations flowed effortlessly across the table, with various guests sharing funny stories from high school, talking about work, and discussing life.
Until Shoko's mother loudly cleared her throat, capturing the attention of the table. "I truly think that being a mother is a gift," she announced pompously. "Not every woman possesses the ability or the grace to have that."
Shoko rolled her eyes hard but chose not to say anything, wanting to keep the peace. You let out a quiet, sarcastic chuckle, catching the way Suguru practically gagged into his drink at his mother-in-law's words.
"And I am just so incredibly happy that my sweet Shoko is such a great mother" the older woman continued loudly, turning to face the other elderly ladies at the table with a huge, boastful smile. "She handles the entire house and two babies perfectly."
You set your fork down, a small, calm smile playing on your lips. "Motherhood is beautiful, certainly" you countered smoothly. "But I think not everyone deserves to have that blessing. I've seen some of the worst people have children, only for those poor kids to end up with severe mental health problems because of their parents."
"Of course, of course!" Shoko's mother let out a loud, forced laugh, clearly displeased at being challenged.
Across the table, Sukuna let out a rough scoff. He grabbed a fresh bottle of beer, taking a long sip before casually pouring more alcohol into the cups of the guests sitting near him. His sharp eyes shifted up, locking onto you as if silently asking if you needed a drink or if you were doing alright. You simply shook your head subtly, looking away from him.
Shoko's mother narrowed her eyes, her gaze landing squarely on you. The sweet, fake smile on her face turned incredibly malicious.
"Didn't you have a miscarriage, Y/n?" she asked loudly, her voice cutting through the chatter of the table.
Your entire body went completely still. The ambient noise of the party seemed to vanish instantly. Across the table, Sukuna’s hand froze dead in mid air, his beer glass halting just inches from his lips.
Shoko’s head snapped toward her mother, her face contorting into an absolute fury as she threw her a deadly glare. "Mom!, stop--"
You swallowed the sudden lump of ice in your throat, forcing yourself to take a slow breath. "Uhm, yeah. Unfortunately, I did" you replied softly, your voice trembling slightly. A few of the older women sitting nearby immediately began murmuring softly, trying to show genuine empathy and comfort toward you to smooth over the tension.
But Shoko’s mother wasn't finished. She let out a soft, dismissive hum, leaning forward onto the table. "Well, have you ever considered that perhaps God took your child away from you because He knew you wouldn't be a good mother? Whatever happens, happens for a good reason. Maybe that kid was just supposed to die now or later anyway—"
Before the horrific sentence could even fully leave her mouth, Sukuna was on his feet.
It didn't take him a single second. With an explosive, terrifying speed, his fist flew across the table, punching Shoko’s mother squarely in the face.
The heavy wood of the table rattled as the woman went flying backward out of her chair, crashing hard into the grass. The entire backyard erupted into absolute chaos and screaming.
"You fucking hag!" Shoko’s father roared in shock, rushing forward to violently push Sukuna away.
But Sukuna wasn't having a single piece of it. He was completely out of his mind with pure, unadulterated rage. He lunged forward again, his massive fists throwing punch after punch, completely blind to the world around him. You stood up from your chair, frozen in absolute shock, entirely overwhelmed as the screams of the guests echoed in your ears.
"And I think God thinks your fucking time has come, and that you don't deserve to live in this world anymore! How about that, huh?!" Sukuna roared, his deep voice vibrating with an terrifying, animalistic fury. "Talk about my girl like that again Idare you!-- Fucking let me go! I am going to kill this fucking hag!"
Suguru, Kenjaku, and three other men had to throw their entire weight against Sukuna, desperately pinning his arms and dragging him backward to keep him from completely destroying the older woman.
Sukuna was breathing heavily, his white shirt slightly torn as he was finally forced out of the backyard and away from the party. The celebration was entirely ruined. someone was already franticly calling an ambulance for the bleeding woman on the grass.
Your vision blurred completely as heavy tears finally spilled over your eyelashes. You couldn't believe someone could be so cruel, to say something so deeply monstrous to you about the daughter you had lost.
In a daze, you quickly wiped at your wet cheeks, walking as fast as your heels could carry you away from the chaotic house and out toward the front driveway.
As you reached the quiet street, you spotted him.
Sukuna was leaning heavily against his motorcycle, a lit cigarette pressed between his lips. His knuckles were bruised and stained with blood, his chest still heaving with residual adrenaline. As the sound of your heels clicked against the asphalt, his sharp eyes lifted, locking directly onto yours.
Seeing the sheer, protective fury still lingering in his gaze the same man who had just risked everything to defend your honor, had made completely broke down. You burst into violent, heavy tears right there on the pavement.
i love reading, i love thinking about what i am currently reading, i love thinking about what i am going to read next, i love being privileged enough to be able to read, read, read, and read so much that i never tire of it
✮ synopsis: when a sudden downpour catches you on your way back from the market, your charming-as-ever neighbor leon steps in to help without hesitation— just like he always does. but leon’s tired of beating around the bush to get your attention.
✮ warnings: female reader, use of pet names (sweetheart, baby, etc), explicit sexual content, neighbor au, language, dirty talk, nipple play, fingering, power dynamics, unprotected sex, mirror sex, orgasm denial, overstimulation, creampie
✮ word count: too fucking many (8.5k)
the quiet nature of the suburbs was something you never thought you'd have the luxury of experiencing. growing up in an overpopulated city, you were used to the hustle and bustle and the slew of expletives aimed at you whenever you bumped into someone on accident. well, before the sunshine, there's rain, and unlucky for you, it'd been pouring for the better part of an hour now.
you sat in your driveway, engine still running, staring through your window at the heavy sheets of rain hammering down on the pavement in a powerful crescendo. the short walk up your driveway suddenly felt like a trudge through a fierce snowstorm. you glance at your backseat, nearly a dozen flimsy brown paper bags overflowing with groceries. you groan, already imagining the bags disintegrating the moment you step out of your car. just as your hand reached for the door handle, bright, almost blinding headlights swept across your yard.
it was none other than leon, your stoic yet snarky neighbor, a well-rounded man who just couldn't seem to leave you be. the loud roar of his engine silenced as you watched him step out from his car without hesitation, rain soaking his hair and clothes immediately.
the fabric of his shirt stuck to his frame, emphasizing every muscle on his chest and protruding vein along his biceps. leon was pretty tall— not overbearingly tall, but certainly an ideal height. his solid, well-built frame came from years of physically straining work, a career that put more stress on his body than any gym ever could. his dark blond hair, usually carefully styled, was now plastered to his forehead, water droplets dripping from the ends and running down the sharp line of his jaw.
his eyes caught yours through the window, a small smile on his face even in the pouring rain. leon was usually quite stoic— quiet, observant, and to himself most days— but with you he was different. open, flirty, and a little too persistent. he just could not seem to leave you alone, and as embarrassing as it is to admit it, he was actually pretty helpful... especially in times like these. god, you wished you weren't so helpless around him.
he jogged over to your car, boots splashing through unsuspectingly deep puddles as he made it over to you, a playful smirk gracing his features. he tapped lightly on the glass with two knuckles, brow raised in a mildly teasing way that you'd quickly become accustomed to over the past few months living here.
you rolled the window down, allowing him to rest his elbow on the side of your car to speak to you. "stuck in the rain, huh, sweetheart?" he smiles, voice low and warm, carrying that familiar teasing lilt that made your skin raise with goosebumps. "or are you just here admiring the lovely weather while the rest of us get soaked?" you couldn't help the small smile that graced your face at his sly comment, shaking your head before explaining the predicament you were facing.
leon chuckles heartily as you explain, hands pushing off your car and glancing towards the back as he notices the plethora of groceries. "unlock the back for me, beautiful. couldn't stand to see you get drenched like this." he smirks, winking at you as you unlock your car door for him. you can just feel the warmth creep up your neck at his words, your mind automatically associating the comment with something dirty. he knows exactly what he's doing, you think, swallowing your spit as you stare at him through your side mirror.
he worked quickly and efficiently— the way he always did when he was helping you with something. in no time, he had rounded up most of the heavy paper bags of food and other essentials in his arms. the sight of his biceps flexing under the soaked fabric of his shirt and the way his veins bulged against his forearms from the effort truly felt sinful. you could hardly draw your attention back to the task at hand as you ogled him. pushing your distracting thoughts away, you mentally prepare yourself to step out into the endless onslaught of rain.
grabbing the two lightest bags, you hurriedly jumped out of your car and dashed the short distance to your covered porch. by the time you reached it, you and leon were both thoroughly drenched, the earthy notes of petrichor sticking to your bodies. your clothes clung uncomfortably to your skin, and leon's grey t-shirt was practically glued to his torso, outlining every firm ridge and muscle across his chest, abdomen, and arms.
he set the bags down carefully against the brick so the contents inside wouldn't spill out, then ran a rough hand through his hair, squeezing the water out with his fist. leon turned to you, a soft, endearing smile on his face as water continued to drip down from his hair and down his face despite his efforts.
"see, told 'ya i'd save the day," he says, voice raspy and warm with that same teasing tone he always took with you. "can't have my favorite neighbor spilling all her groceries everywhere, right?" he chuckles, the deep sound sending shock waves up your spine as you smiled shyly up at him, brushing away a strand of hair that had gotten stuck to your face in your pursuit to the front door.
"thank you, leon... you really didn't have to come running over in the rain like that for me. i would've figured something out." you tell him, eyes locked onto his as you assess his expression. he waved you off and leaned against the porch post casually, arms crossing over his broad chest, causing his shirt to pull even tighter— if it could get any tighter, that is— across his shoulders and pectorals.
"i know you would've," he replied, smiling down at you, head tilted to the side. "you're stubborn like that, sweetheart. i'd know, you never want me to help you. ‘s‘cause you can do it yourself, right?" he nods towards you, an amused expression gracing his features. you felt a small, knowing smile tug at your lips despite the way your cheeks were warming at his accusation. he wasn't wrong. you had turned down his help more than once, insisting you could handle your own. i mean, that's what you were used to growing up in the city— every man for himself. asking for help had always felt like a weakness.
but standing here on your porch, soaked to the bone with leon looking at you like that, it was getting harder for you to keep denying him.
water continued to drip steadily from his hair down to the rest of his body. you sucked in a sharp breath as you averted your gaze from his distracting frame and met his eyes once more. the longer you stood there, the more you noticed his eyes skimming over your rain-soaked form. your thin t-shirt was completely drenched, clinging uncomfortably to your curves and leaving very little to the imagination under his heavy gaze. to make matters worse, the black bra you'd chosen that morning with a delicate lace trim you now deeply regretted wearing— was clearly visible through the wet fabric.
leon's eyes lingered there for a moment, just long enough for you to look around awkwardly as you felt heat traveling up your neck and spreading across your cheeks. when his gaze finally lifted back to your face, there was a new darkness in those icy blue eyes, pupils blown wide and gaze intense under your faltering one. he pushed off the porch post and took a slow step closer, closing some of the distance between the two of you. rain continued to hammer down just beyond the overhang; the once loud pattering of raindrops reduced to white noise as you stared up at him.
"besides," he murmured, voice dropping lower as he stood mere inches away from you, "i don't mind getting a little wet, sweetheart. long as i get to help you out, yeah?" he whispered, tilting his head as he peered down at you. your breath catches at that, his suggestive tone making you inhale sharply. you instinctively crossed your arms over your chest, trying to hide the way your nipples had hardened from the cold rain and the intensity of his stare, but it only seemed to amuse him more.
leon's expression softens into something warmer, though the desire in his eyes was apparent. he reached out slowly, brushing his hand across your cheekbone to push a stray strand of hair out of your face and behind your ear. his calloused thumb lingered on your face for a moment, brushing against the swell of your cheek before pulling away.
"you're shivering, sweetheart," he said softly, a hint of concern in his voice mixed with slight amusement as his dark eyes assessed your form. "c'mon, let's get you inside. wouldn't want you to get a cold. i'll help you put everything away, yeah?" you blink dumbly, still a little dazed from the physical contact before nodding absentmindedly. you fiddle with your keys briefly, hands shaking slightly as you struggle to put the key in place. once you finally unlock the door, you hold it open for leon as he gathers the heavy bags again effortlessly, setting them down carefully on the island in your kitchen.
the sound of rain becomes muffled as you shut the door behind you with your foot, kicking your shoes off while carrying the two remaining bags into the kitchen before placing them next to the others. the air around you and leon feels charged, the only sounds present in the room were your soft breaths and the steady drip of the water from both of your clothes onto the tile floor. you quickly find something to do with your hands, reaching into the bags to start putting your groceries away. you couldn't take the quiet atmosphere, never once gotten used to the quaint silence of suburbia.
leon didn't move to leave, instead, he leaned his hip against the counter and watched you with that calm, observant gaze that always made you nervous. his soaked shirt was still clinging to his skin sinfully, and you had to force yourself to not stare at the man.
after a long, quiet moment of you unpacking the goods, he spoke again, his voice lower and rougher around the edges.
"you know, i keep finding reasons to come over here," he said, pushing off the counter to step closer to your frame which had visibly stiffened at his words. "fixing your porch light, mowing that little strip of grass between our lawn, carrying your groceries..." he continued, voice dropping to a low, sultry drawl. "maybe i should stop pretending it's all just me being a good neighbor, huh, sweetheart?" you freeze at his boldness, intrigued at what he meant by "pretending." you'd figured leon was just lonely and liked your company, you'd been there, but you wouldn't have imagined this. perhaps you were much too oblivious to catch on.
leon was now just a foot away, looking down at you with a sultry expression that made your whole body feel hot. he leans down to your ear, deft hands twirling a damp strand of your hair between his pointer finger and thumb, the gesture surprisingly tender.
leon reached down with his other hand and gently took the eggs that you'd been holding dumbly from your hands, setting them down on the counter so he'd have your full attention. he then moved to place both of his large hands on the edge of the counter, caging you in. leon's head dipped lower, lips hovering just beside your ear so you could hear him clearly. you shuddered, breath catching in your throat at the close proximity. god, you think you might explode.
"i've been real patient, sweetheart," he purred lowly in your ear, breath fanning against your skin. "coming over with tools, fixing whatever you need, telling myself i'm just being helpful..." he confesses, and you swallow at his bluntness. you couldn't believe this was your life right now. you knew he was flirty, which was never an issue, but you didn't expect to like it as much as you did. you reveled in the closeness, exhaling softly as he continued.
"but if i'm being honest, darling," he pauses, hands gripping the counter tightly behind you, voice rough as he continues, "i'm not thinking about the fucking porch light or the leaky faucet. i'm thinking about you." he pulls back from your ear slowly, gaze flicking down to your chest again, where your wet t-shirt and black lace bra were still clearly visible. your chest was rising and falling faster than earlier, nipples visibly hardened from the cold rain and the heat of his attention. he curses under his breath, teeth tugging at his bottom lip as his eyes settle back on your face.
"but i'm no dummy, either, baby. don't act like you don't know what you're doin’ to me." he says, almost condescendingly, voice low and rough with barely restrained hunger. he leans in even closer, one hand leaving the counter behind you to slide boldly up your hip, thumb caressing the small of your waist through the soaked fabric. your breath hitches, eyes tracking his hand as you subconsciously lean into his touch.
"so tell me, you gonna keep playing dumb or are you finally gonna let me have you, huh?" the question hangs heavily in the air between you. leon doesn't move any closer, he just studies your expression closely with slow, deliberate circles of his thumb over the wet material of your shirt. his gaze is intense, unapologetic, almost daring you to look away from him. you stood, frozen in space, staring dumbly up at leon as you try and gather your thoughts. your mind felt foggy, the only thing you could truly focus on was leon's slow movements on your waist.
your lips are parted slightly and your heart thumps against your ribcage, your wide eyes staring into leon's half-lidded ones, the atmosphere in the room thick. you were at a loss for words. this was leon— your neighbor, the man who fixed your porch light without being asked, who carried your groceries in the rain, who always had that easy, soft smile for you. you'd caught yourself thinking about him more than you wanted to admit— the way his veiny arms flexed when he worked, the low timbre of his voice whenever he called you “sweetheart,” the way he'd wave at you every time you'd head inside from a long day at work.
and now he was right here, caging you against your own kitchen counter, telling you exactly what he wanted.
the chilly sensation the rain left on your body had long since subsided and your whole body now felt hot, burning under his stare as you struggled to form a coherent sentence. your mouth opened and closed embarrassingly, settling on shutting it as you melted under the intensity of his stare.
leon's thumb moved in those slow, maddening circles, occasionally brushing just beneath the hem of your shirt, teasing the bare skin of your waist. your skin was hot against his touch, goosebumps forming in wake of his cold thumb caressing the skin softly. he waited for your response, a brow raised in question as he smiled down at you softly.
after a few seconds of silence, he lets out a low, rough chuckle.
"aww, baby," he cooed, voice dripping with dark amusement. "too flustered to say anything? you're real cute, baby." he says, tilting his head slightly, eyes never leaving yours. his stare was dangerous, predatory, hungry with desire as he all but devoured your frame with his eyes. his thumb dips just a little higher under your shirt each time, brushing against the sensitive skin just below your ribs. you twitch a little at the touch, his cold hands tickling the skin of your abdomen. his hands felt hypnotizing on you, as if every small circle he traced was pulling you in deeper into his trance.
"you don't have to be brave with words right now, baby." he continued, voice low and confident as he expertly assessed your nervous frame staring up at him. "i can see how fast your heart's racing." he says, breath fanning over your lips in a hushed whisper, "and i can definitely see how hard your nipples are pressing against that pretty black lace." he observes, eyes glancing down to your chest to punctuate his words before looking back up to your flushed face.
your spit caught in your throat in at his boldness. the rain had long since been forgotten, and you were no longer shivering. in fact, your whole body felt feverish under leon's intense, brooding stare. you wanted to say something, anything to not seem like a total ditz, but all you could do was stare up at him in a haze.
leon hums, offering you a sympathetic smile at your shyness. despite his soft expression, the heat behind his eyes never faltered.
"you've been driving me crazy for months, sweetheart," he confessed, letting out a soft exhale as his other hand reaches up to play with a loose strand of your hair again. "every time you smile at me all shy when i help you, when you bend over to tend to your flowers in those little shorts... i've had to walk away and tell myself to behave."
he leans in further, lips brushing the shell of your ear as his voice dropped to a rough whisper. you shudder, thighs pressing together as he presses a chaste kiss to the outside of your ear.
"but i'm done behaving, sweetheart. i won't play these games with you anymore." he pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes again, bold and unapologetic. "so i'm only gonna ask once more," he said, thumb dipping higher, brushing under the curve of your breast where the wire of your bra sits. "you gonna keep playing shy... or are you gonna let me have you, baby?" he repeats, eyes piercing into yours with a gaze so intense you think you might explode.
the kitchen felt impossibly small. the rain was still pouring outside, but you had hardly noticed with the way leon's body was pressed so close to yours. the air was almost suffocating with how hot his hand felt on your skin, looking at you like he was ready to devour you the second you said yes.
your mouth opened and closed again almost embarrassingly. you finally managed one shaky breath before the words slipped out, soft and breathless: "...i want you, leon." a slow, satisfied smirk spreads across leon's face, expression dark as he finally hears the words he'd been waiting to hear fall from your pretty lips for what felt like eons.
"that's my girl." he coos, the hand that was absentmindedly twirling your hair around his finger fervently pushes the strand behind your ear. without another second of hesitation, he cups the back of your neck and pulls you into a deep, hungry kiss. his lips are slightly chapped, slotting against yours perfectly as he kisses you like his life depends on it.
the kiss was anything but gentle— it was demanding, full of all the months of tension he'd been holding back. his hand traveled up the nape of your neck and into your hair, fingers threading through the wet strands as he tilted your head just the way he wanted, deepening the kiss with a low groan that vibrated against your mouth.
you melted into it, hands instinctively coming up to clutch at his soaked shirt, feeling his chest muscles flex under your touch. leon presses you back against the counter, one thick thigh sliding between your legs to keep you steady as he devoured your mouth. you gasped at the stimulation to your core, eyebrows furrowing as his tongue sweeps past your lips, brushing against your own wet muscle. you moan at the contact, the feeling of his tongue against yours so incredibly delicious as you feel a pit begin to settle in your stomach.
he finally pulls back for air, forehead resting against yours, both of you breathing hard. a thin string of saliva connected your lips for a moment before it broke, your lips glossy and hot from making out. leon's eyes were dark, half-lidded, and burning as he stared at you intensely.
"fuck..." he breathed, voice strained and low as he catches his breath. "been dying to hear you moan like that for months." his thigh presses a little firmer between your legs, giving you just enough pressure to make your hips twitch. you whine, tilting your head slightly, staring into leon's eyes with a desperate expression painted on your pretty face.
"so needy," he murmured, lips brushing against yours teasingly. you chase his lips, only to have him pull away at the last second, leaving you whining. he chuckles lowly, hand coming up from your waist to brush against your cheek. "i haven't even touched you properly yet, baby. you needed me that badly, huh, sweetheart?" you nod, desperate, biting your lips briefly before leon leans back in.
he kisses you once more— slower this time, savoring the soft moans and whimpers that leave your mouth as he moves his thigh subtly against your heat to give you some more friction. your mouth falls open slightly more, a whiny moan leaving your mouth as leon pulls away to ogle at your frame under him.
his hand delves under your shirt again, moving higher to cup your breast through the soaked lace of your bra. his thumb cascades over your pebbled nipple, making you arch into his touch with a soft, needy sound. he curses, looking down at you to gauge your reactions. he circles his thumb experimentally around your small, erect nub, a tightness forming in his damp pants as he watches you writhe under his touch.
"please, leon, more..." you whine, staring up at him with a needy expression on your face.
"god, you're so responsive," he groans, voice heavy with desire as he watched your brows furrow at his touch. "look at you, arching into my hand like you were made for it. damn thing's been teasing me for far too long, baby. shame it's gonna to have to come off, isn't it, sweetheart?" he says sarcastically, raising a brow teasingly before reaching under your shirt to undo the clasp of your damp bra.
leon's hands tug at the ends of your shirt, pulling the useless fabric up and over your head while you shrug out of it. he tosses the flimsy material on the island, eyes fixated on the one article of clothing he'd been dying to snatch off the whole night. hurriedly, leon's deft hands race to pull the bra off you in one smooth motion, setting it next to the shirt he'd just rid you of.
you couldn't stop the soft, breathy moan that escaped you as leon reached out to cup each of your breasts in his hands. "got such pretty tits, baby," he says, staring into your dazed eyes as he fondles them. "so fuckin' perfect." he squeezed them gently, pushing them together in his large palms before letting them settle again. he leans down, pressing hot, open mouth kisses down the column of your neck, sucking occasionally at the flesh until he reached your chest.
leon's tongue darts out to lick a thin, teasing stripe up your left nipple, his saliva coating the hardened bud. he blows ever so slightly, causing you to shiver at the cool sensation. you can't help but let out a strangled moan as his other hand works your right nipple, rolling it between his thumb and pointer finger. your core clenches as he finally takes your nipple into his mouth, mouth sucking the nub fervently.
"fuck, leon... feels good..." you trail, hips subtly grinding down into the thick muscle of his thigh that was still pressed between your soaked core, desperate for more friction. leon groans deeply at the sound of your sweet voice, the low vibration traveling straight through your nipple he has trapped between his lips. his eyes flick up to meet yours, dark and burning with desire, while his thumb continues its slow, relentless assault on your right nipple.
"yeah, baby? feels so good, right?" he breathes out, pulling off your nipple with a wet pop, lips shiny with saliva. a thin string of spit connects his mouth to the swollen peak before it breaks. you nod with an embarrassing amount of enthusiasm, tears nearly pricking at your eyes just from how horny you are. your hips grind down on his meaty thigh harder this time, tiny, desperate moans slipping from your mouth as you stare at him, eyes practically begging him to give you more.
leon's eyes flare with dark satisfaction as he watches you nod so eagerly, tears threatening to fall from your eyes, hips grinding down desperately against his thigh. "feels that good, huh?" he breathes, thumb giving your right nipple one last slow roll before his hands slide down to grip your waist. "fuck, sweetheart…" he leans in, pressing a small kiss to your collarbone, then trails lower, running his lips over your chest while his hands slide down to pop the button on your pants, pulling the zipper down in one smooth motion.
the damp fabric clings stubbornly to your skin as he tugs at it, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your pants and panties together. you lift your hips to help him, elbow rested atop the counter behind you to balance yourself. he tugs the soaked layers down your legs in one steady pull, tossing them aside on the kitchen floor with a damp slap. the cool air kisses your overheated, dripping cunt and you shiver, a soft whimper escaping your lips under leon's quiet, intense stare. you're now completely bare in front of him, eyes gazing up at him needily as you gauge his expression.
leon is practically hypontized, his gaze dropping between your thighs, eyes darkening with raw, unrestrained hunger. he wets his lips slowly with his tongue, as if he's already imagining how good you're going to taste. he steps closer, right hand traveling down your abdomen and in between your thighs. his palm is warm against your skin, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. he slides two fingers between your thighs, running his middle finger through your slick slit, parting your folds and gathering your wetness.
a low, appreciative hum escapes him when he feels how incredibly soaked you are. he pulls his hand back and holds his glistening fingers up between you, the dim light catching on the shine coating the digits. his eyes pierce into yours as he brings his fingers closer to your face, offering them to you.
"open." he commands, his voice rough and assertive as he presses his middle and ring finger to your lips. when your lips part obediently, he slides his fingers into your mouth, letting your taste yourself. his thumb brushes your bottom lip and you suck gently, eyes locked onto his.
"that's it, sweetheart. taste how fuckin’ wet you are for me," he drawls, watching your tongue swirl around his finger with hooded eyes. "shit… such a dirty fucking girl.” pulling his fingers free with a soft pop, he brings it to his own mouth, sucking it clean with a deep groan. the sight makes your core clench uncontrollably, begging to be stuffed with something, anything at this point.
and with that, leon drops to his knees in front of you, slinging one leg over his shoulder to open you up to him. you grip the counter behind you tightly, balancing yourself as leon grips the soft plush of your thigh. he leans in, hot breath fanning over your dripping cunt, and presses a soft, short kiss to your clit. you whine, eyes looking into his pleadingly.
he only smiles up at you from between your thighs, that dark, knowing smile that makes your stomach flip. he leans in again, dipping his head lower and licking a slow, thick stripe up your folds from your entrance to your clit. when he reaches the swollen bud, he flicks the wet muscle against it with the perfect pressure.
you twitch hard, a soft, needy moan slipping from your lips as sparks of pleasure rush through you.
watching your reactions, leon hums lowly before taking your sensitive clit in between his lips, suckling the bundle of nerves while flicking his tongue. his tongue draws small, deliberate circles over the trapped bud, forcing out louder, higher pitched moans from you. the sensation is almost overwhelming. your hips jerk, a hand flying to his damp hair as he works you with his mouth. your fingers grip at his strands tighter than you mean to, earning a low groan from leon. the sound vibrates straight through your clit, head falling back ever so slightly as he continues his assault on your core.
leon presses a single digit to your folds, running his finger up and down before pushing it past your slit. you're so wet that it slides in easily, but still he takes his time, curling it gently at first before pressing an additional finger to your clenching pussy. he pumps his fingers slowly, angling his fingers upwards in a hook to press against your g-spot.
"fuck, listen to those pretty sounds, sweetheart," he mumbles against your pussy, voice muffled and rough. "grippin' my fingers so tight... my pretty girl’s just been waiting for me to split her open, huh, baby?" his words vibrate through you as he continues to suck at your clit with such vigor that you feel tears prick at your eyes from how fucking good it feels. you let out a sob, eyebrows knitted together as you begin to feel a pressure begin to tug at your lower abdomen.
his fingers begin to speed up, hooking upwards inside you as he feels for the spongy bump of your g-spot. every stroke making wet, obscene sounds echo in the kitchen, mixing with your high pitched, breathy moans and the steady thrum of the rain outside.
you're trembling, hips jerking uncontrollably as the pleasure builds hotter and tighter with every curl of his fingers and every suck on your clit. your grip on his hair tightens even more, tugging hard enough to pull another groan from his throat. only when your thighs begin to shake violently around his head and your moans turn into desperate, broken cries does he finally pull his mouth off your clit with a wet pop. he looks up at you, lips and chin glistening with your arousal, eyes dark and burning.
"leon, w-what the fuck?" you sob out, a single tear rolling down your heated cheeks as you stare at him in desperation, eyebrows knitted together in confusion at your ruined orgasm. he chuckles darkly, fingers pulling out of your core as he rises to his feet to press a chaste kiss to your forehead to console you. he wipes the tear that rolls down your cheek and pushes your hair behind your ear while cooing at your frustrated form.
"not yet, sweetheart." he rasps, holding your chin in place with his thumb as he forces you to look at him. "gotta bury my cock in this tight little cunt first," he whispers, pressing a brief kiss to your pouty lips as he stares down at you. reaching his strong arms under your thighs, he scoops you up in one smooth motion. your legs wrap around his waist automatically, your dripping cunt pressed hot and slick against his abdomen as he carries you up the stairs without any effort.
he walks down the hallway to your bedroom, having already known its location from when he came over to change your window’s film which had desperately needed replacing.
kicking open your bedroom door, he walks you over to the bed and sets you down in the middle, your form sprawling out as you prop yourself up on your elbows. leon stands at the end of the bed, pulling the tight shirt off his body as you watch in delight. he makes quick work of his jeans and boxers as well, tossing the articles of clothing aside as he descends onto the bed.
your mouth is open in awe as you ogle at his thick cock, the tip leaking with small dribbles of precum. he was big, the base thick and heavy, the shaft curving slightly upward with prominent veins running along its length. it twitched under your hungry gaze, another bead of precum sliding down the flushed head.
leon's lips curl into a smug, knowing smirk as he catches you staring. "you want this, sweetheart?" he purrs, voice low and rough with arousal. he wraps his large hand around the base, giving himself a slow, lazy stroke from root to tip, spreading the slick precum over the head. his eyes never leave yours, thick with lust.
your breath catches in your throat as you watch him stroke his thick cock right in front of you, the wet sound of his hand gliding over slick skin making your empty pussy clench desperately around nothing. the ruined orgasm still has your nerves buzzing, every inch of you hypersensitive and aching for relief.
leon's smirk deepens at your obvious hunger. "yeah... you do," he answers for you, voice a raspy, filthy rumble. he leans in close, releasing his cock and letting it slap heavy and wet against his abs. his hands slide up your thighs, thumbs digging into the soft flesh as he spreads you wider, exposing every inch of you to his hungry gaze. "look at that. so fuckin' desperate for me. dirty girl, dripping all over the sheets just from watching me stroke it." one thick finger drags through your folds, collecting your slick before he brings it to his mouth and sucks it clean. his eyes flutter shut for a second, like he's savoring the taste of you, then snap back open again, his gaze more intense than before.
he shifts up the bed slowly, every muscle in his torso flexing as the mattress dips under his weight. his cock drags a scorching, sticky trail up your stomach, leaving a shiny smear of precum across your skin. when he settles between your thighs, the blunt, leaking head nudges right against your swollen clit, making your hips jerk up involuntarily. you let out a whine, your patience nearly spent as you glare at him, annoyed.
"easy, sweetheart," he chuckles darkly, pinning your hips down with one big hand. "you'll get it when i say so."
he rocks his hips forward, sliding the entire length of his cock along your pussy up and down, coating himself in your arousal until the wet, obscene sound of it fills the room. every pass bumping the head against your clit, then dragging back down to tease your entrance, never quite pushing inside. your hands fist the sheets, back arching, broken little whimpers spilling from your lips as the teasing from downstairs makes every nerve ending scream for more.
“leon… please—” you gasp, voice cracking. you were nearly about to give up.
“please what, sweetheart?” he taunts, leaning down to bite at your jaw, your throat, sucking a fresh mark into the skin just below your ear. “use your words, yeah? tell me exactly what you want me to do to this pretty pussy.”
you’re shaking, thighs trembling around his waist, but the words tumble out anyway, much different from your bashful slurry of words from before. you beg, lip quivering desperately as you nearly cry out of sheer frustration. “fuck me… god, leon, i need your cock inside me right now. please, i can’t, i need it—”
he groans against your neck, the sound vibrating through you. “that’s my girl.” in one smooth motion he flips you onto your stomach, yanking your hips up so you’re on your knees, ass high in the air. you barely have time to catch your breath before he’s gripping your hair and tugging your head back, angling it to look towards the mirror on the right side of your bedroom.
“mirror,” he growls against your ear. “eyes on the mirror the whole time, baby." he drawls, hands caressing the fat of your ass with his other hand as he presses himself against you.
your gaze shifts. the tall standing mirror reflects every filthy detail back at you. your flushed face, lips parted and swollen, eyes glossy and desperate. and behind you, leon, shoulders broad and muscles bulging, one hand fisted in your hair, the other gripping the base of his thick cock as he lines himself up.
he pushes in slowly, inch by inch, until the stretch burns so good your mouth falls open on a silent cry. you watch in the mirror as your pussy stretches obscenely around him, lips parting wide to take every thick vein, every ridge. the slight upward curve of his cock drags perfectly against that spot deep inside, making your walls flutter and squeeze. you feel as if you're on cloud nine right now, finally feeling satisfied as his thick cock stretches your cunt deliciously. you could cry right now, the fullness of his cock buried inside you so deep you swear you could feel him in your cervix.
“fuck, look at that, sweetheart,” he rasps, voice wrecked. his eyes are locked on the where your sexes connect in the mirror, watching himself disappear inside you. "so fuckin' tight. swallowing me like you were made for it." he bottoms out with a sharp snap of his hips, pelvis flush against your ass, balls heavy against your clit.
the sight his cock buried to the hilt inside your pussy makes you moan loud enough to echo off the walls. he doesn’t wait. he pulls back until only the flushed head remains inside, then slams forward again, setting a punishing rhythm that makes your whole body jolt. a creamy white ring coats his cock with every slow, rough drag inside your cunt as his hand grips the fat of your ass.
every thrust is on full display in the mirror. the way your back arches deeper, the way your tits bounce with every impact, the way your ass ripples when his hips slap against it. his cock glistens with your slick each time he drags it out before he drives back in.
leon’s hand slides around to your front, fingers finding your swollen clit again. he rubs tight, fast circles in time with his thrusts, never letting up. he leans over your body to your ear to and whispers, “watch yourself,” he orders, tugging your hair harder so you can’t look away. “watch how pretty you look getting fucked like this, taking my cock like such a good fucking girl.” he purrs, making eye contact with you in the mirror before letting up to set an even quicker pace.
you're already so close, so fucking close to cumming, the teasing from earlier making you hypersensitive to every rough thrust of his cock in your wet pussy. you feel that familiar knot curling again in your stomach, and you swear you could cry from how good his cock feels dragging against your walls— the slight upward curve that presses against your g-spot, the thick veins that adorn it from the base to the shaft—
“leon, fuck, i’m gonna—” your voice cracks, breaking into a sob.
“yeah? you gonna cum already?” he groans, hips snapping harder as your walls tighten up around him, the headboard starting to knock against the wall. “cum on my cock, sweetheart. watch yourself get fucked stupid by your favorite neighbor.” the words are shameless as they leave his mouth, and you can’t help the way your pussy clenches involuntarily at his words. he groans, dragging his cock faster along your aching cunt as he watches you intently in the mirror.
his fingers press harder on your clit, rubbing perfect figure-eights into the swollen bud in a way that feels so delicious with his cock splitting you open. with a last firm circle on your clit, you find yourself coming apart in no time.
the orgasm rips through you like lightning, violent and blinding. your pussy clamps down around his cock like a vice, pulsing and gushing around him as you scream his name. in the mirror you watch yourself come undone, your eyes rolling back and mouth open in a broken cry, whole body shaking while he fucks you through it. leon's pace never slows as he drags your orgasm out until you’re sobbing and twitching.
“good fucking girl... shit, just like that,” he groans, voice raw. his hips keep snapping forward in that same brutal rhythm, cock slamming deep into your spasming pussy even as you’re still coming apart, walls clamping and fluttering wildly around him. the wet, filthy squelch of your arousal mixes with the relentless slap of skin on skin, louder now that the headboard is hammering the wall in time with every thrust.
“fuck, sweetheart,” leon growls, voice wrecked and dark. his fingers never leave your clit, in fact— they press harder, rubbing those perfect, merciless circles even faster, dragging the orgasm out until it twists into something sharper, almost painful. your scream melts into a broken sob as the pleasure flips straight into overstimulation, every nerve screaming while your pussy keeps pulsing and gushing around his thick cock.
“leon, please, no— too much—” you choke out, but the words dissolve into another helpless cry when he grinds deep and circles your clit just right. in the mirror you’re forced to watch it all as your eyes roll back, and tears stream down your flushed cheeks.
“too much?” he laughs low and cruel against your ear, never missing a stroke. “look at who’s ruining you right now, sweetheart. look at that pretty face getting fucking wrecked,” he groans, yanking your head up higher by the hair so you can’t hide from the reflection. his other hand snakes around your front, large hands finding purchase around your neck as he pulls your frame flush to his.
your thighs start shaking violently, legs threatening to give out, but leon just presses you closer to him, hand squeezing your neck possessively. he fucks into you harder, deeper, cock dragging relentlessly over that oversensitive spot inside you with every thrust. his other hand leaves your tangled hair to rub tight, firm circles into your clit, and you almost cry from the hot pleasure building in your stomach.
“gonna give me another one already, baby?” he taunts, voice rough with lust. your cunt flutters wildly around him at his seductive, almost condescending tone, moans getting higher-pitched as you feel your orgasm approaching. “that’s my girl. cum for me, sweetheart. know you want to," his pace never once falters, strong hand holding you up as he presses a small kiss behind your ear while encouraging you to cum on his cock.
the second orgasm hits you harder, sharper, almost too intense to bear. your whole body seizes, as you gush around him for the second time, fresh slick squirting out around his cock and dripping messily down your thighs onto the sheets. you scream his name until your voice cracks, eyes screwed shut in the mirror before they snap open again. back arched impossibly, mouth open in a broken sob, tears pouring freely while your body jerks and twitches uncontrollably in his grip.
but leon still doesn’t let up.
he fucks you straight through it, hips pistoning faster, the wet slap of skin turning obscene and constant. his fingers keep torturing your swollen, oversensitive clit— pinching, rubbing, and flicking it until the pleasure flips into pure fire, every stroke making you sob and thrash against him. you collapse forward onto your elbows, face buried in the bed, ass still high and presented for him as he follows you down, blanketing your body completely.
“leon… i can’t— please, i can’t take it—” you’re babbling, drooling into the bed, legs kicking weakly as a third orgasm builds right on the heels of the last one, vicious and unstoppable.
“uh-uh,” he rasps, lips brushing your ear, voice dark and filthy. “i waited months for this perfect little cunt,” he rasps, voice heavy with everything he’s held back for so long. "so you can give me one more, sweetheart." leon purrs, his nails digging into your hips as he continues his relentless abuse to your cunt.
he yanks your head back again so you have no choice but to see your tear-streaked, ruined face. you’re practically limp in his arms as hot streams run down your face from the sheer amount of pleasure. the way your pussy is stretched obscenely around his thick cock as it pounds into you without mercy, and the way your whole body trembles and jolts with every brutal thrust is enough for another pit in your stomach to build.
the orgasm that’s been building finally crests, and it feels almost painful, every contraction sending tiny shocks up your spine. it drags through you in long, shuddering waves, your walls clamping down around him in tight, fluttering pulses while fresh slick gushes out around his cock. you watch it all in the mirror, your eyes glossy and unfocused, mouth open in a hoarse, broken cry, tears slipping down your flushed cheeks as your thighs shake violently.
“fuck… that’s it,” leon groans against your ear, voice raw and satisfied, his hips stuttering as he chases his orgasm. “such a good fucking girl, taking me so well,” leon grunts out, voice rough and ragged as he chases his own release. your cunt flutters around his thick length, hands scrambling for purchase on the bed as hot tears run down your cheeks.
you’re still twitching, still trying to catch your breath, when the overstimulation really sets in— sharp and electric, too much all at once. your hips jerk away on instinct, a wrecked sob tearing from your throat as the pleasure flips into something almost painful.
"shhh, i've got you," he murmurs softly against your neck, his voice losing its rough edge as his own release builds. "just one more thing, baby…" leon's breathing is ragged, his hips stuttering as he nears his release.
with a final, deep thrust, leon buries himself to the hilt and stills. he groans deeply, hips bucking as you milk him for all he's got. you feel him pulse inside you, hot, thick ropes of his cum filling you completely as he groans your name against your shoulder blade. his body trembles slightly, muscles tensing and then relaxing as he empties himself into you. it's a satisfying release that seems to go on forever, each pulse of his cock accompanied by a low, guttural sound of pure satisfaction.
leon stays buried deep for a long moment afterward, both of you breathing heavily in the quiet room. the rain has softened outside, now just a gentle patter against the windows. his weight is comforting on your back, his arms wrapped securely around your waist as he presses soft kisses along your spine.
when he finally pulls out, you collapse completely onto the bed, boneless and satisfied. he shifts beside you, gathering you into his arms and snuggling you into his side. you rest your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat as his fingers gently stroke your hair.
"you okay?" he asks after a few moments of comfortable silence, his voice soft, a stark contrast to his rough, lust-ridden voice from a few minutes ago.
"mhm... so good." you mumble into his firm chest, and he lets out a breathy laugh at your reply. he strokes your hair gently, pressing a kiss to your hairline as he watches you catch your breath.
"yeah, baby?" he teases, settling into your arms as he thinks of what he wants to say. you're drifting off when he speaks again, his voice barely above a whisper. "i've wanted this for so long." although your eyes are heavy, you can't help the way your heart skips a beat at his words.
your eyes flutter open at his confession. "how long?" you ask curiously, mouth parted as you listen to the calm thrum of his heart against his chest.
"since the day you moved in," he admits, his thumb tracing circles on your shoulder. "that's why i kept coming up with excuses to see you. the porch light, the fence… none of it... really needed fixing." he says, and it's a little endearing to see leon so honest... it was cute. the sleepiness wore off a bit, your lips curving into a smile as you think about all the times he's offered his help to you in the name of "being a good neighbor."
"what about the leaky faucet?" you ask, propping yourself up on an elbow to look at him better. "that one was actually dripping." you inquire, wriggling your eyebrows at him playfully.
leon grins wolfishly. "okay, that one was real. but i may have exaggerated how bad it was so i could come back a few times." he admits, fingers absentmindedly drawing shapes into the small of your back.
you shake your head, unable to stop smiling. "you're ridiculous." you huff out, mirroring his mannerisms by tracing hearts into his firm chest with your fingers, eyes focused on your movements.
"i tried to be subtle, sweetheart," he admits. "but i was losing my goddamn mind trying to tell you. tonight, when i saw you stuck in the rain... i knew i couldn't pretend anymore." your fingers still on his chest, biting back a smile as you take in his words. you had to admit, it felt nice to finally hear him be honest about how he felt, the flirting a precursor to his true feelings.
"i'm glad you didn't," you say, leaning up a bit to press a soft kiss to his lips. he responds immediately, his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you closer. when you pull away, he's smiling.
"so," he says, a boyish smile gracing his features, "what happens now?" he asks, genuine curiosity behind his playful eyes.
"well," you say thoughtfully, "you could start by not pretending things are broken just to talk to me." you giggle, staring at him in amusement as a wider smile breaks out on his features.
leon laughs, the sound warm and genuine. "deal." he says, trapping you tightly into his arms. you giggle, smacking at his biceps for him to release you. once he does, you look at him with a smirk plastered on your face.
"hey, leon?" you ask, staring into his eyes with a hint of mischief.
"yeah, sweetheart?" he asks, brows raised as he stares at you trying not to laugh.
"i think my kitchen sink might be making a weird noise." you say, biting your lips to stop the laugh that eventually does escape, burying your face in his bare chest.
he chuckles, pressing a kiss to the back of your head. "i'll be over first thing in the morning to check it out."
nier’s note 🗒️: oh my god you guys yes this was such an indulgent write i’m not gonna lie to you. vendetta/re9 leon has been on my mind all the time lately and i can’t help it that man is such a dilf. but if you read fully to the end i really really appreciate it thank you for supporting my writing!! hoping to make this a pretty consistent blog but we’ll see. also literally the first day of me writing this it started storming hard af outside my apartment and i literally got so inspired i love rain. anyways, yes it’s long yes it’s 95% smut, yes i’m a slut for leon, no i don’t care. thank u for reading ♡
Summary. What happens when you're on a 4-day work trip, out of town?
Well... Let's just say your husband, Nanami Kento misses you so much that he steals your panty from the laundry basket and fucks himself while inhaling your scent.
contents. heavy on the scent kink, nanami masturbating, pathetic husband, pervert nanami, oral sex(f receiving), praise kink, light bondage, spitting, mating press, aftercare <3
wc. 4.6k
this is heavily influenced by the fragrantica trend on tiktok ;)
You and Nanami Kento have been married for 3 years now, 2 years dating prior.
It was a rainy morning and it's your routine to have breakfast at your favorite cafe. Luckily for you, it's near your workplace. There was no available table at the time, the others were occupied by pairs or groups of people.
Except one.
You mustered all your courage to ask the man, and if I may add... The man was handsome. Like jaw-dropping, flabbergasting, fucking handsome. His brows were crunched and he's typing on his laptop like his life depends on it.
You walked to the table nervously, "Umm hi, I'm sorry to interrupt you sir. May I sit here?"
He looked up through his glasses, his brows softening just a little. "There are no more available seats and I really want to enjoy the ambiance here in the cafe, hence it is my favorite and I don't really wanna go to my office because it's still earl–"
"Yes. You may sit, ma'am" He interrupted you before you could even finish your sentence.
"Thank you, Mr. ? "
"Kento Nanami"
"Nice to meet you, Mr. Nanami" Then you introduced yourself as well.
And the rest is history..
________________________________________
The first time you made love with each other was in his apartment.
He invited you over for dinner and presented that he'll cook. Which you gladly accepted.
Nanami fixed the two of you some shrimp pasta, steak, mushroom soup, and créme brulee for dessert.
Your stomach was full from all the yummy food he prepared. But tonight… your stomach's not the only one getting full.
As the night went on, the both of you grew hot from the wine he took out of his cellar. A very good, aged, fine wine.
Time-to-time, you catch him looking at your lips when you talk. Tipsy, you say to him, “If you want to kiss me, you can ask y'know” your eyes squinting at him a little.
“May I kiss you then, sweetheart?” He finally asked, taking off his glasses.
You placed your glass of wine on the coffee table and crawled towards him. Pressing your hands on his chest squeezing the plush of his muscles underneath his thin shirt. Looking at him straight in his eyes, dying to kiss him just as much.
His hands found your waist and guided you to sit on his lap. His right hand coming up to cup your face, you leaned in against his touch, earning a ‘Hmm” from him. Then, Nanami's thumb moved to your lips, rubbing his calloused pad against its softness and plumpness.
“You're so gorgeous. I'm so lucky to have you, darling.” He pecked your lips. Then stared at you once more. “All to myself” He grunted, before crashing his equally soft ones to yours.
The first 10 seconds of the kiss was slow and passionate. Quickly escalating, he tilts his head gaining more access to your mouth. “Hmmph!” You moaned as he slipped his tongue inside. Your tongue met his, exchanging spit and some drool slipping out of your mouths.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, your hands playing with his soft, blond hair. Nanami's hands slipped inside your shirt, rubbing your back and waist.
Both of you broke from the kiss, breaths uneven. A strand of saliva connecting your reddened lips.
He picked you up like you weigh nothing, flexing his strong muscles and carried you to his bedroom. Although.. After he laid you on the bed, "Hold on, sweetheart" he said, panting from the heated kiss earlier.
You watched him go to his closet, which is connected to his room. His movements were frantic. He rummaged through his things, as you can hear, because some of his stuff is dropping by how uncareful he's moving, which is unlikely, knowing him.
"Ah hah" he exclaimed. He went out and revealed himself with a scented candle and match on his hand.
Your brows furrowed, confused as to why he's holding those. "Ken, what are those for?" You asked, sitting up on the bed.
After the candle is lit, he removes his button-up shirt and hovers over you, caging you in between his big arms, making your back press on the bed again.
"What else for my love? To set up the mood of course." He proclaimed, crashing his lips into yours once again..
______________________________________
"Honey, you're gonna be late for your flight. Your things are complete. I checked everything last night." Your husband said hugging you from behind, his chin on your head while you're stressing if you've brought everything that you'll need.
You've never been away from your home in 3 years since marrying. And it's gonna be 4 days, that's why you're kinda frustrated and paranoid you almost packed the whole house in your baggage. Including your husband.
You turned to face him, hugging him tightly. "I am so gonna miss you, love. Like really really really miss you." You mumbled on his chest.
"Oh darling, imagine how I'll feel. I will miss you more than you can comprehend." His hands cupped your face, making you look up at him. He leaned down to your face and kissed you.
The kiss was slow. Like he's so afraid it's gonna end.
You break the kiss and say, "Welp, I think it's time to go." He gave you kisses on your cheeks "Mhmm just a little more" he says in between his smooches, making you giggle.
He carried all your baggage in his car and drove you to the airport.
You hugged each other tightly one last time before you checked in.
________________________________________
Day 1
Nanami drove back home with a lump on his chest. He played your playlist in the car. He even shed a tear or two when your favorite song came up. I think he's mixing up you dying and you going on a work trip, by how dramatic he is.
But who's he to blame? You are absolutely amazing. Beyond amazing even. You're everything he has dreamed of, and he wouldn't trade anything in the world for you.
He finally arrived home and looked at his watch. 7:00 am. It is a Tuesday, so he still has to go to work at 8 am.
The thought of him going home tonight, without you, greeting him with your oh so loving tone he loves dearly, is enough to make him crazy.
Before getting ready, he decided to do some laundry first. Going through your basket, he smelled your shirt you wore last night. He took a long sigh. "I'm gonna miss you so much" He said, whispering to himself.
One by one, he put your clothes in the wash, not until... your favorite panty was in his hand. He bit the inside of his cheek. Contemplating whether or not he should put it or not.
After 3 minutes of deep thinking... he set aside your underwear and continued to load the washing machine.
Day 2
Nanami woke up and immediately reached for you. When he felt nothing, his eyes snapped open and got nervous. Then he remembered you were away. He sighed to himself.
He decided to call you.
"Good morning, babyyy" You blabbered through the phone, your voice husky, signifying that you had just woken up as well.
His cock twitched at your voice, making him groan. Which you heard. "What's wrong, Ken? Did something happen?" You asked, voice now concerned.
"Oh n-nothing, my love. Good morning, how was your sleep? " His hand reached for his boxers. Slightly palming his growing bulge.
"Are you sure you're okay?" You asked one more time before answering his question. "Yes, my love. I'm sorry if I made you worry.”
You sighed. "It's alrighttttt. I didn't sleep well last night" You said, pouting your lips.
"Why is that, sweetheart?" He questioned, his tone a little bit teasing.
"Oh you know why! It took me three freaking hours before I actually drifted to slumber land. I wanted you by my side..." Your words drove him mad. His hands, now in his boxers as he gives it a few slow strokes. He bit his lips from pleasure.
"What about you? I bet you slept well without me blasting my phone volume by your side huh?" You said while giggling.
"I think I only slept for two hours" Eyes closed, he tried his best to make his voice normal, not making you suspicious of what he's doing now. At your voice alone.
"Tell me more, darling." He uttered, dropping the phone beside him, and putting it on speaker. He reached for your pillow.
Nanami brought it to his face, the smell of your shampoo and natural scent completely flooding his mind, making him dizzy and even more horny.
You continued to blabber about how everything went yesterday. While he continued to fuck himself with his hand. His responses being short, just a few "Yeah" or "Mhm"
Then, you had to excuse yourself and end the call.
His moans can be heard now. His strokes are becoming faster. He tightens his grip on his cock, coercing him to moan your name. "Ahh yes darling— T-take my cock" His hips thrusting upwards, matching the speed of his hands.
The wet sounds of his dick filling the room, along with his moans and groans. "Mnghh fuuck" He moaned, his head tilting back. His pace became slopier, then came shooting his load on his stomach and hand.
“This is gonna be the longest 4 days of my life” he muttered, staring at the ceiling.
Day 3
The day went on incredibly slow. On Nanami's head at least. The both of you called each other every free time the two of you had.
He got food on the way home as he didn't feel like cooking at all. Now, he's kicking off his shoes and carefully placing them on the shoe rack by the front door.
After working out for an hour in your home gym, he then freshened up.
Now, he's all ready for bed.
As he was passing by the laundry room, he saw a piece of clothing hanging on one of the hooks.
He went inside to put it in a basket or something. His eyes widened upon realizing that it's your underwear.
"Shit" He bit his lip, picking it up from the hook. Unashamed, his hand put it on his face. Inhaling your scent like an animal in heat.
Well he is…
He went to your shared bedroom, took out the vanilla jasmine scented candle from the shelf and lit it, then placed it on his bed side table.
He began to unravel his throbbing— thick, long cock from his underwear. He groaned. His curved dick slapping his toned abs. He wrapped his hand on his tip, smearing precum on his thumb. “Fuck”
The natural aphrodisiac in the jasmine makes him even more riled up. He brought your panties up on his lower face. Inhaling and tasting you all at once.
He pumped his long shaft as he's imagining you. The way your pussy easily gets wet with just his faint touches. The way you clench around him. Your warmth driving him to the edge.
All his thoughts lead to you.
"Shiiit. Oh fuck" He pumps his dick faster. He widens his thick thighs as if you're in between them.
"Yes, darling. Suck me just like that. So fucking— hahh good" Nanami closed his eyes. Head thrown back, his adam's apple bobbing from the constant moaning of your name. He's working his hand so fast that his breathing is ragged.
He put your undies away from his face, still stroking his cock. After five seconds, he inhaled you again.
"Ahhh fuckk– I'm so close, keep going" He muttered through the fabric. The room, now humid because of the scented candle, and him.
fwap fwap fwap "Mnghh y-yeahh" Nanami moaned as he released his warm cum all over himself as he reached his climax.
Still providing himself a few, slow strokes as post orgasm hits him.
"Hah– one more fucking day" He said, before finally getting up and cleaning after his mess.
Day 4
“Love, which one do you like?” you asked, holding a black and blue shirt, through the video call. You woke up early to go shopping for some things to bring home. “I like whichever you think is nice, honey”
“Oh my god. Kennnn just choose” You replied, completely aggravated. He only chuckled.
“Okay, okay. I like the blue one”
“Hah! I knew it. Now a matching tie. This one or that one?”
“That one.” he said pointing at the other tie. “Good taste, love.” you said, with a matching wink. His heart skipped a beat and smiled at your playful attitude.
“I'm gonna go shopping for some more souvenirs. I'll talk to you later, baby”
“Okay, sweetheart. Don't buy heavy things, you'll hurt yourself.”
“Yeah yeah, bye now. I love youuu” you bid goodbye, kissing through the camera.
“I love you more. Be very careful, okay?” you simply nodded at his words, and ended the call.
The day went on as per usual for Nanami. Getting ready for work, leaving the house 10 minutes early so he's not late, finishing his paperworks, blah blah blah.
And there goes lunch time.
As he finishes eating, he tries calling your phone but you're not answering. “Must be busy” he said to himself, looking at your profile on his contacts.
But goddamn. The man misses you so fucking much.
Little did you know..
Before leaving the house, he grabbed one of your favorite shirts, then sprayed your favorite perfume on it. Luckily, when he was finally satisfied by how much he sprayed, it ran out. Which you thank him for because he switched the new bottle of perfume and the old one in your baggage.
He took your scented shirt out of his briefcase. Feeling the softness of the fabric on his hands, he brought it closer. His eyes closed as he's smelling it.
He didn't plan to bring your shirt to jerk himself off in his office, no.
Or did he…
Nanami grunted as he could feel his cock grow in his tight pants. He tried to repress it, he really did.
Until he couldn't. “Shit”
He unbuckled his belt and zipped his pants open. He reached for his boxer's waistband and freed himself of misery.
His fat cock already glistening with beads of precum at his red-pink mushroom tip. He made sure that the windows and doors were locked before attending to his business.
Your shirt is still in Nanami's hands, smelling it as he pumps his desperate dick, releasing a quiet groan in response. His moves became faster, squelching sounds echoing in his office.
He wrapped your shirt around his dick. Feeling the friction, his hips thrusted upward. “Mnghh— yesss” he moaned, his pace becoming more vigorously fast.
He bit his hand as he's reaching for his high. Not a minute later, he choked on his saliva as he orgasmed. He whispered your name. All in desperation. His cum, all over your clothes. “It's ruined, I'm gonna buy another one. Apologies, my love.” he mumbled to himself, as he displayed a satisfied grin on his face.
D-day
At last, it's Saturday. You told him to pick you up at the airport around 5:30 pm.
So here he is at the airport. At 4 fucking pm. You scolded him for being too early and that he'll get bored. But he simply replies, “I know, sweetheart. But I don't want to miss even a minute upon your arrival.” you couldn't help but melt at his remarks, and say “Awww baby. I love you so much I'm gonna give you a bunch of hugs and kisses”
“Hugs and kisses only?” he asked, raising a brow.
“Hmm I don't know, depends” you responded, playing along.
Time check: 5pm. Nanami got out of his car, finding a cafe or bakery in the airport. He bought hot coffee for himself, and your favorite drink as well, along with some pastries and breads to eat on the road and bring home.
As you walked out, his back was facing you leaning against one of the airport rails. His phone is on the side of his face, trying to call you. Luck on your side, it died just after the plane landed. You sneaked behind him and put on a beanie, trying to look like a stranger. You bumped into him, then turned to your shoulder for a second and said, “Sorry”. It was a split second but you did catch a glimpse of his brows crunching together. You walked fast. But he's faster. He called your name, shouting just a tiny pitch higher than his normal voice. You couldn't hold it in anymore and burst laughing while opening your arms as you met his long strides.
“I missed you so much, my love” Nanami says as he's now embracing your smaller figure against his warm and big body. Hugging your waist so tightly, but not tight enough to make it hurt. Your arms automatically wrap around his neck, making him crunch lower towards you. You kissed him. He accepted your gesture and exchanged it passionately. Your lips fully in sync, not caring about PDA because you just longed for each other that much.
Pulling away from the kiss, you say, “I missed you too, Ken. I missed you so much”, as you stare at his hypnotizing, beautiful, hazel eyes.
His face lightened with his smile. “Are you ready to go home, sweetheart?” he asked sweetly. “Yuppppp let's gooo”
He took your baggage from you and carried it toward his car, your arm intertwined with his muscly one. He opened the car door for you and kissed you before closing it.
On the way home, an unending smile is plastered on his face. Holding your hand while the other on the wheel, he kisses the back of your hand at least every minute, making your chest flutter at his affection.
As you opened the front door. Nothing could've prepared your sanity on the sight in front of you. There's a "Welcome Home!” banner and a bunch of flowers on the foyer, the house smelling like roses and food he cooked for you. You turned to look at him, eyes teary. “ You didn't have to do this, honey. Coming home to you is more than enough, y'know” He closes the distance between the two of you, your husband’s thumb glides on your face to wipe a tear that escaped.
“Oh honey, this house felt so empty without you. It's just as happy to have you back. Of course we had to welcome you back properly.” you beamed at his sweet words.
________________________________________
“Oh my goshh! It suits you perfectly!” you exclaimed, putting on the tie you bought for him as he sat on a stool bar, your body in between his legs and Nanami's hands resting on your hips. His eyes boring into yours as you blabber on the other things you bought for him.
And then…
He smashed his lips into yours, making you jolt in surprise. Still, you kissed back. He pulled you closer, his legs caging your frame. “You talk too much sometimes, darling. I wanted to kiss you so bad” he said, letting go of the kiss. His eyes filled with desperation and want.
He stood up from the stool. With swift moves, his arms are under your legs and the other on your back, carrying you bridal style. He makes a beeline to your bedroom. As you entered, your eyes widened.
Oh.
The room was filled with rose petals, slightly dim, the moonlight providing the only source of light. He carefully laid you on the soft mattress. You grabbed the tie you were making him try on earlier, and kissed him. He grunted in your lips, opening his mouth so you can gain access to his tongue. You rolled yours against him, making your husband lose his mind completely.
He breaks the kiss. “Which candle would you like for tonight, my love?” His voice husky and needy. “Vanilla coconut” you responded, biting your lower lip. He smirked as he got up and lit the candle.
Nanami gets on top of you and starts to kiss your neck. “Mgnhh! ” Your head tilts from pleasure, giving him more access to nibble and suck on your exposed skin. He then removed your shirt and bra. Like a magnet, his face came right down on your tits. He sucked them back and forth, giving both equal attention. “Ohh f-fuck!” you yelped as his thumb and index finger pinched on one of your nipples, the other one being licked and sucked by his mouth.
His lips trails kisses down your sternum, and reaches your stomach. He looked up at you waiting for your consent, his fingers on your waistband. After giving your husband a nod, he pulled down your pants leaving you only in your panty. He licked his lips and dove right in. “Mnghhh!! yes ugh— right there, ken!” you cry out. His mouth lapping at your clothed pussy. The fabric, completely soaked from your juices and his spit.
“Hah— I missed you, I missed this so fucking much” he says whilst sucking on your pussy. Unsatisfied with the barrier of your panty, he yanked it down your legs.
“Look at you, all pretty for me. Wanting to be fucked, hmm?” he teased. Your head nodded quickly and he chuckled at your needy gesture.
Nanami kissed your calf, moving up to your thighs, and inner thighs. Finally, his face is in front of your throbbing pussy. He pressed his face against it and took a loooong inhale, your smell engulfing his senses. Driving him mad. “Fuuuuck. You have no idea how much I've been wanting this, darling. Your pussy in my mouth.” He flattened his tongue on your cunt, “Aughhh K-ken, keep going” you moaned as pleasure took over you.
“You taste soooo sweet, my love” he kissed your clit. “Smells so fucking good too” he added as he starts to really eat you out.
Nanami's tongue swiping up-and-down your pulsating cunt. Your head turned to the side, eyes closed, hands gripping the sheets. “Look at me as I eat you, sweetheart. See how good I am licking your sweet juices”
Your eyes snapped open and looked down. His eyes already devouring you, as he feasts his mouth with your pussy. slurp slurp “A-ahh!! R-right there, Ken!” you moaned loudly as he sucked on your sensitive nub.
He inserts two of his long and thick fingers, making you whimper and your hips jolt upward. He curled his digits inside as he continued to work on your clit. “Mgnhhh— I'm close. Ahh!” You're a moaning mess.
He pumps his fingers faster and deeper, chasing your climax. “Oh f-fuckk!” you yelped as you orgasmed, eyes rolling back. His tongue licks up every single drop of your juices. He hums in satisfaction.
He hovers over you and says “Open your mouth” which you obeyed. You opened your mouth, tongue sticking out. He spits on it making you taste yourself, then he proceeds to catch your lips, kissing you hard and greedy. You tugged at his shirt. Nanami took off his tie.
Then… he held both of your wrists above your head tying them up. You looked at him doe-eyed. He grins at your reaction. “Be a good girl now, hmm? Tell me you want me, sweetheart. Tell me how much your pussy wants to be filled up by my cum”
“P-please kennn. Need your cock in me soooo bad—*hic* fill me up. Please” You begged. He can't help but to admire you right now. Your tied wrists, perked tits, your legs wide open, and your cunt glistening in wetness.
“You look so beautiful like this, my love. So perfect for me.” he praises as he removes his shirt and pants, leaving him naked.
The sight of his thick, long, and veiny cock making your mouth and pussy water. “You got bigger, love” you say, eyes slightly widened.
“Well, you weren't here to take care of me for four days,” he replied. He rubs his tip at your entrance making the both of you moan. “Relax, darling. You're squeezing me too hard.” he said as he inserts himself
“Fuck! You're t-too big— ahh!!” he slid all the way inside. “Mnghh shhh. I know, darling” he said, kissing your forehead.
Nanami's hands grabbed the back of your thighs, folding you in half, putting you in a mean mating press. His weight crashing you down. Then he begins pounding into you making you arch your back. He groaned at how your pussy is deliciously wrapping around him. His face scrunches as he thrusts in you. “Mnghhhh feels soooo good” You lolled as he fucks you with all his might.
“F-feel how deep I am, darling? You're taking me so good”
“I want to– ahh! touch you, love. Pleaseee” You plead. He smiles at you and quickly removes the tie on your wrists. Your now freed hands reached his back, digging your nails through his skin, making him groan from the sensation.
“M-moreeee!! Fuck me faster—Ahh!!” Taking your words, he did fucked you faster. And deeper. Your pussy walls clenching every inch he has to offer, his reddened tip kissing your cervix in every pound he gives you. His pace becomes inhuman as the best creaks from every thrust he makes. Your moans in harmony.
“Yeah? Mnghh— you like that, my love? You like it when I fuck you like this?”
“Y-yes!! Oh my god, I'm gonna cum!” you say as your mouth shapes into a silent O, your brown knitted together, as you orgasmed. “A-ahh, I'm close too” he said, his pace becoming sloppy.
“Fill me up, Ken. Want your cum in m-me” your voice trembling and legs shaking, as you begin to feel overstimulated. His cock forming a ring at the bottom from your juices.
A few more thwap thwap thwap, and “O-ohh fuuuck!!” Nanami tilted his head back and his cum painted your walls white.
The feeling of his warm and thick cum making you orgasm again. You bit your lower lip from how good it feels. His moves came to a halt, releasing your legs, his cock still inside of you.
The candle he lit earlier, covering the room in its sweet and calming scent, along with the smell of sweat, musk, your mixed perfumes, and the linens underneath you. All this makes Nanami's and your head hazy.
He presses his forehead against yours, his eyes closed. Then he pecked your cheeks, your forehead, and finally your lips. “I love you so much, sweetheart. Don't you ever agree to another work trip.” You laugh coarsely, your throat sore from all the moaning.
He took his cock out with a sounding pop! your pussy lips smacking together again from the fullness earlier. Your husband went to the bathroom and came back with a damp and dry towel in both of his hands. He reached down to you and cleaned up all the dried and wet fluids on your skin. He goes back to put them in a laundry basket.
“Are you hungry, sweetheart? I can fix you some pasta I cooked earlie–” His words were taken aback as he sees you, eyes closed and in deep sleep. He smiled at your vulnerable state and covered you in a blanket as he got to bed as well. Your husband kisses your forehead one last and then he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him.
want more?
>𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙
_______________________________________
Inspired by the fragrantica trend on tiktok. It got me feeling things, okayy???😫 I had so much fun writing this!
pairing: kurt kunkle x reader
summary: Kurt never meant to become that guy online. He just wanted someone—anyone—to look at him like he mattered. So he hit record, posted a few late-night videos, and somehow it worked. You weren’t even looking for him. One accidental scroll turns into watching every video, then following, then a DM you definitely shouldn’t answer.
wc: 5.7k
tags/warnings: 18+ ! MDNI ! smut, fem!reader, camboy!kurt, virgin!kurt, sub!kurt, light dom/sub, fluff & smut, strangers to lovers?, casual sex, sexting, AFAB reader, dirty talk, praise kink, mutual masturbation, photo exchange, loss of virginity, oral sex, cunnilingus, vaginal sex, creampie, reader is on BC, body worship, slightly breeding kink, edging?, aftercare.
author's note: hey! this is my first smut fanfic ever + my first post on tumblr 😭, so please be kind :( I tried to write Kurt as canon as possible! I had so much fun writing it :) enjoy, and thank you for reading! feel free to share your thoughts :) I’m always glad to receive some feedback! (pics used are from pinterest, everything is fiction).
ao3
Until recently, Kurt had only ever filmed himself.
He'd tried the "normal" path first— painfully earnest tutorials, vape unboxings that nobody asked for, daily vlogs where he'd ramble about nothing like it was profound wisdom. Shoot. Edit. Upload. Repeat. The views stayed stuck at double digits. Comments were mostly bots or people straight-up telling him to delete his account and disappear.
So he pivoted.
If the internet didn't want him informative or relatable, maybe it wanted him raw. Exposed. Desperate.
He didn't think it'd actually work. Why would it? He'd never been the guy anyone noticed. In school he was background static—or worse, the easy punchline. No girl had ever looked at him like she was starving. No one had ever wanted him like that.
Still, he hit record.
Three videos. That's literally all it fucking took.
Three shaky, harshly lit, way-too-long clips dumped at 3 a.m. like dirty confessions.
And somehow… it clicked.
Followers started climbing. DMs flooded in. Notifications pinged with tips, subs, custom requests. People started typing his name like it tasted good in their mouths.
It wasn't love. It wasn't real connection.
But it was attention.
And for Kurt, attention was enough.
You found him by accident.
You barely touch Twitter anymore. You were just killing time, thumb flicking mindlessly, when a thirty-second clip auto-played. You almost swiped past.
Almost.
Something made you pause. Then tap.
@KurtsWorld69 8,418 followers.
Cam link pinned. OnlyFans in bio.
Instant cringe crawled up your spine.
That username alone should have ended it.
The bio was somehow worse.
Yet you kept scrolling.
It was pathetic.
The emojis. The fake-laugh confidence. The way he tried to play it off like he wasn’t literally jerking off for strangers’ validation.
And still—you didn’t close the app.
It was cringey. Stupid. Borderline embarrassing.
But you watched every single video that night.
Curiosity? Sure. Morbid fascination? Definitely. Same Kurt every time: flushed cheeks, messy hair flopping into his eyes, staring straight into the lens like it could touch him back. Like he needed the camera to tell him he was good. Needed someone—anyone—to want him.
By the third video your thighs were already clenched tight. Heat coiled low and heavy in your belly. Your breathing turned shallow, uneven.
You didn’t even register your hand slipping under the waistband of your panties until your fingers met drenched, swollen heat.
“Fuck,” you breathed, barely audible.
You didn’t stop.
On screen, Kurt’s shirt was bunched between his teeth, jaw clenched so hard the muscle jumped. His tummy flexed with every rough pump of his fist around his cock—thick, flushed, leaking at the tip. He was loud. Shamelessly loud. Broken moans and whimpers spilling out like he couldn’t cage them anymore. No fake porn-star groans—just raw, needy, unfiltered sounds that hit you like a punch.
It shouldn’t have worked.
It did.
You propped the phone against your pillow, volume low, his ragged breathing filling the dark room like he was panting right against your ear.
You hit follow before common sense could catch up.
Then killed the light.
You lasted maybe thirty seconds in the pitch black before your hand was back between your legs—slower now, deliberate. Fingers dragging through your own slick before plunging inside. You gasped when your fingertips grazed your clit—already so sensitive it almost hurt. Your hips rolled up instinctively, back arching off the mattress.
You pictured him.
That same pleading stare aimed at you instead of a lens. That same desperate edge. All that pent-up hunger with nowhere to go except his own fist… until you imagined it going somewhere else.
What if those shaking hands gripped your thighs instead? What if that wrecked voice begged against your throat while he fucked into you—deep, frantic, like he couldn’t get close enough?
Your fingers curled, thumb circling tight. You matched the rhythm from memory—the wet slap of his hand, the hitched “fuck—yeah—please—” leaking from the speaker.
You told yourself it was just curiosity.
Curiosity doesn’t make your thighs quake like that.
Curiosity doesn’t make you bite your knuckles raw to keep quiet.
When you finally came it wasn’t gentle. It ripped through you—sharp, sudden, almost violent. Your cunt clenched hard around your fingers, slick dripping down your wrist, a choked whimper of his name muffled into your palm.
Your body stayed hot. Oversensitive. Breath still ragged.
You lay there staring at the ceiling, aftershocks pulsing faintly, the room heavier, quieter.
Then—
Buzz.
You flinched.
Another buzz.
Heart slamming back into your throat, you rolled over. Screen glowed in the dark.
@KurtsWorld69 followed you back.
You stared. Blinked. Stared again.
No fucking way.
You hadn’t liked. Hadn’t commented. Just… followed.
Pulse roaring, you tapped anyway.
His profile loaded. Same dumb bio. Same try-hard energy.
Except now: Follows you.
Your mouth went dry.
Had he scrolled your page? Seen the unfiltered you—the beach pic with the crooked bikini top, the blurry concert selfie where you’re laughing too hard, the candid where you look soft and real?
Another notification.
A DM.
From him.
You waited three full heartbeats before opening it.
“Hey :)”
Too casual. Probably automated. A funnel script. “Hey cutie, special discount just for you 😉”
You should’ve ignored it.
You didn’t.
You typed. Deleted. Typed again.
You: Hi
Sent.
Typing bubble instantly.
He’d been waiting.
Kurt: oh shit hi
Kurt: didn’t think you’d actually reply lol
Kurt: you’re real right?? not a bot 😭
You huffed a quiet laugh through your nose. Not what you expected.
Kurt: sorry that sounded dumb af
Kurt: i just get so many fake accounts
Kurt: but your pics are… normal. like actually normal
Normal.
He’d seen them.
Your skin prickled, suddenly hyper-aware he’d looked.
Kurt: anyway
Kurt: hi :)
That stupid smiley again.
For a second you considered blocking him. Thumb hovered over the dots.
This was stupid. Humiliating. Dangerous in the pettiest, most pathetic way.
You’d literally come five minutes ago fantasizing about him.
And now he was here. In your DMs. Acting like some awkward guy saying hi.
Shame hit late and hard—crawling up your neck, burning your cheeks in the dark. He didn’t know. Of course he didn’t. But you did.
You could end it. Block. Pretend it never happened.
He’d think you were a bot.
Your thumb dropped.
You typed instead.
You: yeah I’m real
You: promise I’m not here to sell you crypto
You cringed at yourself.
Typing bubble popped up immediately.
Kurt: LMAO okay good
Kurt: that would be actually tragic 😅
Kurt: imagine getting scammed by my own followers 🥺🥺 #notcool
A pause.
Then:
Kurt: sooooo…
Kurt: what made you follow me? 👀
Your stomach twisted—different heat now. Sharper. More exposed.
What the fuck do you even say?
I binged your whole page and came so hard thinking about your cock I forgot how to breathe?
You shifted under the sheets, bare skin sliding against fabric, still slick between your thighs.
Kurt: wait !! don’t ghost pls
Kurt: i was just curious 🥺
Kurt: i mean… i’m just asking 😏 nothing weird unless you want it to be weird… then i’m 100% in 😳
Heat flooded your face. He was terrible at this—awkward, over-explaining, spiraling—but god, it was working. Your cunt gave a traitorous throb.
Kurt: be honest…
Kurt: you followed cuz you think i’m hot right?
Kurt: …don’t you? 😏
Your heart hammered. Shame and want twisted together until they were the same thing.
You: maybe
Instant.
Kurt: oh 😳
Kurt: okay… wow
Kurt: that’s… uh… really flattering lol
Kurt: and also kinda hot that you just said it 😏
You rolled your eyes, fighting a stupid grin even as your cheeks burned.
You: don’t get used to it
Kurt: lol i won’t…Kurt: unless you want me to 😏
You leaned back against the headboard, thumb hovering, smiling despite yourself.
You: we’ll see.
He didn’t reply right away.
Maybe he was already stroking himself again—thinking about you this time. About the “maybe.” About what your voice would sound like moaning his name instead of just typing it.
You set the phone down, heart still racing, thighs still slick.
Because whatever this was, it definitely wasn’t over.
The silence after “we’ll see” settles like fog—thick, quiet, impossible to ignore.
Thursday is empty. No ping at dawn with some frantic “you still there???” No panicked voice note rambling apologies. No blurry selfie begging “pls don’t hate me”with big puppy eyes and messy hair. You wake up half-expecting it, half-dreading it, and when nothing comes you feel oddly off-balance.
During your mid-morning coffee break you check his profile anyway, telling yourself it’s just curiosity. Follower count now 9,312. A pinned post from yesterday teases:
hey kurties ! late night live in 20 👀 come say hi 😎✌️
You close the app fast, cheeks burning with how ridiculous you feel. He’s a cam guy. Thousands watch him every week. You’re just some random who stumbled into his orbit.
You spend the rest of the day telling yourself to block him. Delete the chat. Go back to normal life—spreadsheets, endless traffic, burnt office coffee. But you don’t unfollow him on Twitter. You just leave it. Like a door you’re not ready to slam shut.
Friday afternoon, 3:58 p.m., he finally breaks through.
Kurt: hey … 🥺
Kurt: didn’t wanna doubletext like a desperate loser but i’ve been staring at our chat since that night
Kurt: “we’ll see” is officially haunting me LOL
Kurt: sorry if that’s pathetic :/
You’re home now, kicking off your heels in the entryway, still in the wrinkled pencil skirt and blouse that smell faintly of toner and stale meetings. The message lands low and warm, like fingertips brushing the back of your neck. You change into soft shorts and a tank top, buy yourself time by staring into the fridge like it holds the answers, then reply anyway.
You: Hey
You: Not pathetic
Kurt: FR ??! 😳
Kurt: okay okay that just
Kurt: made my whole day hehe
Kurt: did a live last night actually 😎
Kurt: peaked at like 1,180 viewers
Kurt: some girl tipped big for a custom but i kept restarting bc my head was elsewhere 😭
You huff a quiet laugh into the empty kitchen. You saw the teaser post. He knows you’re still following even though you didn’t reply all day, didn’t engage, didn’t tip, didn’t do anything. Still here. Still watching from the sidelines.
The chat drifts for a long while—easy, almost normal.
You complain about the 405 traffic that made you twenty minutes late and the coworker who “forgets” to mute every single call. He sends a blurry photo of one of his dogs on the floor by his gaming chair, tongue lolling out like he’s judging the whole situation:
professional distraction,, he thinks the whole apartment is his throne !! 😡😡
You reply laughing and a picture of your half-dead succulent on the windowsill:
Tired as fuck zzzz
He asks what kind of music you’ve been replaying lately; you mention that one indie playlist that’s been on loop. He sends back three voice notes—his voice softer than in his videos, hesitant and stumbling over his words, a little raspy as he laughs at himself and admits he tried to film earlier but couldn’t focus on anything except your messages. You send a short one back, teasing him gently. He floods the chat with heart-eyes and:
your voice is literally perfect WTF i’m smiling like an idiot now LOL 🥲
It’s comfortable. Too comfortable.
Saturday night, 9:42 p.m., you’re already in bed scrolling when he shifts the tone.
Kurt: can i like be honest for a sec
Kurt: you don’t have to answer if it’s weird 🥺
You: Go ahead
Kurt: i keep wondering what you look like when you’re ..
Kurt: alone ??
Kurt: like thinking about me
Kurt: maybe like
Kurt: touching yourself
Kurt: that’s creepy right
Kurt: i’m SORRY 😭😭
You set the phone face-down on the nightstand. Walk to the bathroom, splash cold water on your face, stare at your reflection in the mirror. This is insane. He comes on camera for strangers every week. Thousands watch, tip, beg for more. You barely know him. What if he’s recording this? What if tomorrow he posts a screenshot somewhere? What if you regret every single second? Your pulse is already racing, heat pooling low despite every warning light in your head. You come back to bed, hesitate a full minute, thumbs hovering.
You: It’s not creepy
You: I do think about you
Kurt: fuck
Kurt: okay thats
Kurt: wow
Kurt: i’m getting hard just from you saying that
Kurt: is that too much ??
You hesitate again—thumb frozen over the keyboard. Part of you wants to type “yes, too much, goodnight.” The other part is already soaked, thighs pressing together under the covers, imagining him right now in that dim room.
You: No
You: Show me
The photo loads almost instantly. Dim bedroom light, hoodie shoved up to his chest. Slim, soft torso—no cut abs, just pale skin with a faint happy trail of dark hair trailing down from his navel. Scattered moles dot his chest and stomach like tiny perfect beauty marks, the kind that look almost deliberate, warm and human under the lamp glow. Boxers pushed low, hand wrapped tight around a thick, flushed cock curving upward—tip glistening and dripping pre-cum. He’s clearly been stroking for a while; the head is dark, slick, flushed deep.
Kurt: fuck
Kurt: thats what you did to me
Kurt: just from you saying you think about me …
Kurt: i’m shaking rn
Kurt: your turn??
Kurt: pls?
Kurt: only if you want
Kurt: no pressure I SWEAR 🥺
You stare at the photo longer than you should. Heat floods your belly, insistent and undeniable. Your clit throbs even before you touch. You stand, tug your shorts and panties down just enough—dark wet spot already soaking through the fabric, clinging to your swollen folds, a visible damp patch spreading. No face. Just the evidence. Send.
Kurt: OH MY GOD
Kurt: you’re fucking soaked
Kurt: that wet spot
Kurt: shit
Kurt: i can see how puffy your lips are through the fabric
Kurt: i’m literally shaking harder now
You sit on the edge of the bed, heart hammering. Your hand slips between your legs over the fabric, slow hesitant circles over your clit through the cotton. You’re dripping already, slick seeping through. The hesitation is still there—loud, screaming—but your body doesn’t care.
You: Tell me what you would do if you were here with me right now
His typing bubble appears, disappears, appears again. Then the messages start flooding in, frantic and explicit.
Kurt: fuuuckk
Kurt: ookay
Kurt: my hand is shaking so bad i can barely type
Kurt: i’d walk in and kiss your neck first
Kurt: then drop to my knees
Kurt: spread your thighs wide
Kurt: drag my tongue over your panties first
Kurt: just to taste how soaked you are for me
Kurt: pull them aside
Kurt: bury my face
Kurt: lick slow circles around your clit suck it into my mouth
Kurt: push two fingers inside you, curl them while i keep eating you out
Kurt: make you come on my tongue
Kurt: i’ve never done this irl so i’d probably be messy AF
Kurt: but i’d try so fucking hard to make you feel good
You: You wouldn’t be messy
You: Keep going
You push your panties aside completely now—two fingers sliding deep into your dripping cunt, curling, pumping slow while your thumb grinds tight circles on your swollen clit. Breath coming faster.
Kurt: o ok
Kurt: okay
Kurt: then i’d stand up
Kurt: rub my cock against your clit
Kurt: teasing
Kurt: push in slow inch by inch watching your lips stretch around me
Kurt: yk i’m a virgin LOL
Kurt: i know that’s kinda pathetic, no one ever wanted me irl
Kurt: but you do, right?
You: Yes
Kurt: fuck
Kurt: okay
Kurt: i’d go slow at first
Kurt: then once i’m all the way inside i’d lose it
Kurt: fuck you deep and messy and hard
Kurt: probably come embarrassingly fast the first time
Kurt: but i’d stay hard for you, keep going
Kurt: i want to be good for you
Kurt: fill you up
Kurt: watch it drip down your thighs
Kurt: breed you so deep you feel me for hours
Kurt: idk why that part gets me so fucking hard
The confession hits like gasoline on fire. You add a third finger, stretching yourself, pumping faster, thumb frantic on your clit. The room feels too hot, too small.
You: I’m so close already
Kurt: fuck yes
Kurt: me too
Kurt: stroking faster now
Kurt: picturing your pussy clenching around my fingers
Kurt: or my tongue
Kurt: or my cock
Kurt: i’m
Kurt: shit
You shatter hard—back arching off the mattress, thighs trembling violently, a choked “Kurt—” breaking into the dark room before you clamp your hand over your mouth. Slick gushes over your fingers, soaking your hand and the sheets beneath you.
His messages flood in seconds later, messy and frantic.
Kurt: coming
Kurt: fuck
Kurt: so much
A photo loads; thick ropes of cum streaked across his soft stomach, caught in the happy trail and those scattered perfect moles like little stars, pooling in the dip of his navel. His cock still twitching in his loose grip, last bead dripping from the slit. Chest flushed.
Kurt: … holy shit
Kurt: i’m actually shaking 😭
Kurt: came so hard i think i blacked out for a second LOL
Kurt: that was insane ..
Kurt: but idk i don’t wanna keep doing this over text
Kurt: we’re both in LA right??
Kurt: i could drive over tomorrow night after you get off work
Kurt: protection or not i don’t care ATP 😅
Kurt: i just need to feel you for real
Kurt: no recording stuff ofc !!
Kurt: i’ll be SO good i swear
Kurt: PLEASE say yes 🥺
You lie there panting, thighs sticky and trembling, heart hammering against your ribs. Every rational thought screams no—this is a stranger, a cam guy with thousands of fans, what if he’s not who he seems, what if it’s awkward or worse, what if you regret opening this door you can’t close? But your body is still pulsing, clenching around nothing, and the image of him showing up at your door—nervous, inexperienced, desperate and real—makes you clench again.
You stare at the ceiling for a long minute, phone heavy in your hand. Then your thumbs move before the doubt can win.
You: Yes
You: Tomorrow night. My place. Around 11.
You: I’ll send you the address
You: Don’t overthink it. Just show up.
Kurt: fuck
Kurt: yes
Kurt: i’ll be there
Kurt: thank you thank you thank you !!!!!!! 😭
Kurt: i can’t believe this is actually happening
You set the phone down in the dark, city lights flickering through the blinds outside. Tomorrow. No more screens. Just him—awkward, needy, painfully real despite everything.
And no matter how many times you tell yourself this is crazy, you’re already counting the hours.
The apartment feels too quiet in the hour before 11:00 p.m.
You’ve spent the day channeling anxiety into motion: scrubbing counters that were already spotless, remaking the bed with fresh sheets that still carry the sharp, clean bite of detergent. In front of the mirror you stood far too long, holding up jeans, then a tighter top, then leggings—each option feeling wrong in its own particular way: too deliberate, too casual, too obvious, not obvious enough. In the end you pulled the black cotton sundress from the back of the closet. Sleeveless. Thin straps. Hem skimming just above mid-thigh. Loose enough to pretend this was casual, light enough that the fabric would slide up easily if things went that way. Nothing desperate. Nothing calculated. You were lying to yourself the whole time.
You almost texted him to cancel. Draft after draft: actually maybe not tonight, headache, long day. Every time your thumb hovered over send, you remembered last night—his cracked “thank you” like you’d handed him something fragile and rare; the photos he sent; the way you’d come whispering his name into an empty room like a secret you weren’t supposed to keep.
You didn’t cancel.
At 11:01 p.m. three soft knocks—careful, almost scared, like he’s afraid of waking someone who isn’t even asleep.
Through the peephole: Kurt, green hoodie zipped to his chin, hair falling messily into his eyes, shifting from foot to foot. A small paper bag dangles from his white-knuckled grip.
You open the door.
And there he is.
The guy you found by pure accident on Twitter—@KurtsWorld69, the one with the ridiculous username. Real. Not a clip. Not a thumbnail you tapped out of curiosity. Him.
Your stomach flips, a quick, dizzy rush of disbelief. A soft, almost amused laugh slips out—more exhale than anything. “Can't believe this is happening.” You mouthed.
He freezes. Eyes widen behind the fringe. Mouth opens. Closes. Opens again.
“Hey…” The word cracks. He clears his throat, tries again softer, grin too big. “Hi. Fuck. You look… insanely good. Yeah. Hi. Sorry, I’m already short-circuiting.”
You step aside. “Come in before the neighbors think I’m harboring a fugitive.”
He huffs a small, relieved laugh—real this time—and slips inside. Door clicks shut. Outdoor light dies. Just the warm amber glow from the living-room lamp now, soft and forgiving, turning the edges of everything golden.
He stops two steps inside, clutching the bag like armor. Eyes flick everywhere: couch, windows, the faint mix of your perfume and yesterday’s takeout. He looks ready to bolt, then squares his shoulders, summoning the same bright energy he uses on camera.
“Brought… stuff,” he says, lifting the bag a fraction. “Condoms—obviously. Waters. And gummy bears. I panicked at the store trying to guess what you’d actually want after… y’know. Or during. Fuck, saying it out loud sounds so dumb. Sorry. I ramble when I’m nervous. Like right now. Hi again.”
You lean back against the door, arms loosely crossed. “You okay?”
He nods too quickly. “Yeah. Totally.” He rubs the back of his neck, cheeks pink. “Okay, maybe freaking out a little. In a good way. Thousands watch me jerk off on stream every week, but this? This is you. In your apartment. With gummy bears. I’m… stupid happy I’m here.” He swallows, voice dropping lower. “Also… been hard since I left my place. Like, painfully. Had to sit in the car reciting license plates just to calm down enough to walk up here.”
You study him. Taller than the camera angles ever made him look, but still slim—lean shoulders, soft middle you already know by heart. His hands—surprisingly large—flex nervously at his sides. The nervous buzz rolling off him is electric, but underneath it that familiar extroverted spark flickers.
You push off the door and close the distance slowly. He doesn’t step back. Just watches, dark eyes tracking every step.
When you’re close enough to catch the faint woodsy bite of his cheap cologne, you reach up and ease his zipper down a few inches. His breath hitches.
You can feel it already—the unmistakable hard line of him pressed against your thigh through the denim, straining, insistent. You’ve known since the moment he stepped inside; the way he’s been shifting, the faint flush creeping up his neck, the way his eyes keep darting down to your mouth and then away like he’s trying not to stare. He’s not subtle. He’s never been subtle.
“So... you've been hard since you left your place, am I right?” you say, voice low, teasing. Inside, doubt spins quietly: stranger, bad idea, what if he ghosts, what if tomorrow feels empty? Your body ignores all of it, already warm and tightening, pulse heavy between your legs.
His eyes snap to yours, wide and glassy. A choked sound escapes him—half laugh, half whimper. “Yeah,” he breathes, voice wrecked already. “Fuck yeah. Since I locked my door. Since I got in the car. Kept having to adjust myself like some desperate teenager. I’m… sorry? I mean—not sorry. Just—yeah. You do that to me.”
He swallows hard, Adam’s apple jumping, cheeks burning brighter under the lamp glow.
You let your hand linger a moment longer, feeling the heat of him through the fabric, the faint twitch when your fingers curl just slightly. Then you slide both palms under his hoodie instead, pressing flat against the warm, trembling skin of his stomach.
“Good,” you say quietly, thumb brushing the soft line of hair trailing down from his navel. “I like knowing.”
His whole body shudders at the words. Eyes flutter half-closed.
You kiss him first—slow, careful, testing.
He melts into it with a helpless little noise, kissing back messy and hungry at first—too eager, a little sloppy—then softer, like he’s terrified of ruining it. His big hands find your waist, fingers curling, pulling you flush until there’s no space left between you, until you can feel every inch of how badly he’s been aching for this.
Foreheads resting together. Breathing ragged.
“Bedroom?” you ask.
He nods fast. “Yeah. Lead the way.”
You turn. He follows—stumbles once on the edge of the rug in the hall, catches himself with a quiet “shit—” and you both huff soft laughs under your breath like teenagers sneaking around.
Bedroom door open. Lamp low. Gold light pooling across the sheets. You push him gently until the backs of his knees hit the mattress. He drops to sit, knees spread, looking up at you with those huge honey eyes—pupils blown, lips parted, cheeks blotchy red.
“Can I see you?” Voice cracks on the last word. “The dress… please? No pressure. I just… you’re so beautiful.”
Doubt flickers—quick and bright—but you step back and pull the black dress over your head in one smooth motion. No bra. Just the black cotton panties already clinging damp between your thighs. His gaze drops, pupils blowing wide.
“Fuck…” Almost reverent. “You’re… holy shit. Perfect. Actually perfect. Can I touch? Please?”
You nod.
His hands come up—shaking at first—cup your breasts gently, thumbs brushing over nipples that pebble instantly. He exhales like he’s been punched. “So soft… so warm… fuck, your skin…”
You climb into his lap, straddle him, roll down once against the bulge in his jeans. He groans deep, head tipping back, hands flying to your hips.
“Off,” you murmur, tugging his hoodie.
He yanks it over his head in one frantic motion—hair staticky, wild. Bare chest now: lean but soft in the middle, moles like stars, happy trail dark and inviting. You drag your nails lightly down his sternum; he shivers hard, goosebumps rising.
You tug at his belt loops. “Jeans.”
He fumbles—buttons, zipper, shoves denim and boxers down in a rush. Cock springs free—heavy, flushed dark, tip slick and leaking steadily. Thicker than the pics. Harder.
He’s trembling just from being exposed. “Shit… look how hard I am. All for you. Been like this since I left home.”
You shimmy out of your panties. He stares, chest rising and falling fast.
You wrap your hand around him—firm, slow stroke. He jerks up into your grip with a choked “oh fuck—your hand—so much better than mine—”
You chuckle softly. “First time anyone’s touched you like this, huh?”
He nods frantically. “Yeah. Never… fuck. Feels… unreal.”
You guide him to your entrance, sink down slow. The stretch is exquisite—thick, hot, filling you inch by inch until he’s seated fully inside. Your inner walls flutter around him instinctively, adjusting to the fullness, the heat radiating from him. He’s trembling beneath you, every muscle locked tight.
“Breathe,” you whisper.
He tries. A shaky laugh escapes. “If you move I’m gonna lose it so fast. Swear. You feel too good.”
You start small—tiny rolls of your hips, grinding in slow circles so your clit drags against the coarse hair at his base. Pleasure sparks low in your belly with every motion, building in lazy waves. He groans low, hands gripping your thighs, fingers digging in just enough to leave faint marks.
“Yeah… fuck, roll like that. Just like that. Don’t stop. Feels perfect.”
You lift and drop once—harder this time. The sudden depth makes you gasp, a sharp bloom of sensation spreading through your core. He bucks up on instinct, chasing the feeling, and the friction sends another jolt straight to your clit.
From there it’s rhythm: steady at first, then faster, grinding down so every stroke rubs you exactly right. His hands roam—waist, hips, breasts—holding on like you might vanish. He doesn’t talk much now—just short, desperate sounds: “fuck,” “so good,” swallowed moans when you clench around him deliberately, testing how it makes him twitch inside you.
“So good,” he pants. “Better than anything. Fuck—I’m—” He stills you suddenly, hands gentle on your hips. Panting against your throat. “Wait—want you to come first. Can I taste you? Please? Need to make you feel good. Really need it.”
You nod, pulse racing.
He flips you carefully—settles between your thighs, spreads you open slow, reverent. “So pretty… so wet… all for me? Fuck, that’s hot. Tell me if I mess up, okay?”
Broad lick up your folds. The first contact is electric—warm, wet tongue dragging slow and deliberate. Then focused—soft sucks, tongue circling your clit in tight, patient loops. You thread fingers through his hair; he moans into you, the vibration traveling straight through your core. Pleasure coils tighter, building in slow, insistent pulses.
“Like that? Tell me… fuck, you taste so sweet… driving me crazy…”
“Circles,” you gasp. “Slower.”
He obeys instantly. “Like this? God—tell me if it’s good… wanna be perfect for you.” Two fingers slide in—curl slow, searching, pressing against that sensitive spot inside until your hips lift off the mattress. “Tight… wet… fuck, am I okay? Please tell me.”
“Good,” you breathe, voice shaky. The combination is overwhelming: his tongue flicking steady, fingers stroking in perfect rhythm, the soft, needy sounds he makes against your skin. Heat surges, coiling low and tight until it snaps—your thighs clamp around his head, back arching, his name spilling out in a broken cry as waves crash through you, sharp and consuming.
He pulls back slow, chin glistening, grinning wide and dazed. “You okay? Fuck… you came so hard. Felt it. So hot.”
“Yeah,” you pant, chest heaving. “Really good.”
He crawls up, kisses you deep—lets you taste yourself on his tongue, salty-sweet and intimate. “Inside again? Please? Need to feel you. Need it bad.”
You pull him close. He settles on top of you, weight comforting, grounding. He pushes in carefully, groaning the whole way down. “So tight. Warm. Perfect.”
He bottoms out and stays still, trembling, forehead pressed to yours. “Can I move? Please?”
You nod.
Slow thrusts first—deep, careful, savoring every slide. Words spill between breaths: “Feels so good… love how you squeeze… tight… perfect… don’t stop… gonna lose it… so fucking good…”
You whisper “Good boy” once.
He shudders hard. “Fuck—say it again? Please? Makes me… yeah.”
“You’re such a good boy, Kurt…” The words come between soft whines as he hits deeper, the praise making him thrust harder, more desperate.
Pace builds. Then he snaps—harder, deeper, hips snapping with raw need. “Gonna come,” he rasps. “Inside—can I—please? Wanna fill you… need to… please say yes.”
“Yes,” you breathe. “Pill.”
He buries himself deep—comes with a long broken moan, hot pulses flooding inside you. The sensation tips you again—clenching hard around him, gasping as another orgasm ripples through, softer this time but no less intense, your body milking every last tremor from him.
You collapse together—sweaty, shaking, hearts slamming against each other.
He stays inside a minute longer, kissing your shoulder, collarbone—soft, open-mouthed. “You okay? Was I… too much? Too fast? I talk too much, I know—”
You lace fingers with his. “You were perfect.”
He exhales, shaky relief. “Really?”
“Really.”
You feel him smile against your skin. He pulls out gentle, grabs a warm cloth from the bathroom, cleans you both—careful, tender, almost worshipful.
Climbs back under the covers, curls around you—face in your neck, arm across your waist, leg slung over yours.
You hum, tracing lazy patterns on his back. His breathing evens out slowly. You card fingers through his damp hair. “Stay tonight. Sleep here.”
He stills. Lifts head just enough—eyes searching, vulnerable. “You sure? Like… really sure?”
“Yeah. Want you to.”
Something soft and wrecked flickers across his face. “Thank you… Fuck… thank you. For this.”
Quiet stretches—warm, easy. His breathing slows, body heavy against yours.
Then, sleepy murmur: “Hey… random thing.” Thumb brushes your hip under the blanket. “What if… sometime… we recorded something? Just us. You’d be totally anonymous—no face, no voice, nothing. Could be hot. Fun. No pressure. Just… putting it out there.”
You stare at the ceiling a beat. His heart thumps steady against your side.
“We’ll see,” you say softly.
He laughs quiet against your throat—happy, sleepy. “There it is again. ‘We’ll see.’ Those are my favorite words now… for real!”
You turn your head, meet his eyes. “Maybe,” you murmur. “We’ll see.”
He chuckles—low, warm—pulls you closer. “That’s enough for me. For now. But, seriously, like… You would totally get so much clout! I mean, you’re so pretty and I’m sure my followers would love to… know you? I mean, like your sexy-anonymous-internet sona, or whatever.. so there’s this—”
He starts rambling again, words tumbling out in that familiar, nervous rush. You simply listen, letting the sound wash over you without paying close attention. Something in your chest feels warm, at ease, comfortable—quietly surprised by how right it all feels in this moment.
The lamp glows. City hums outside.
Night stretches—warm, quiet, open-ended.
author's note: I hope you enjoyed my fic ! If so, reblog, comment or share please 🫶🏻 it motivates me to write more !
