#melswritings

he walks into the café at exactly 3 p.m., crisp and punctual, ordering his regular like it’s muscle memory.

“meeting someone?” the barista asks, eyes sparkling.

“what makes you think that?”

“she got here first,” she says, offering his coffee and tilting her head toward you. “told me she was waiting for a mr. nanami. she looked… adorably nervous.”

he murmurs his thanks, turning to follow her gesture. the second he spots you, all poised and waiting for him, it hits him like a punch to the ribs.

you’re too absorbed in the sunlight streaming through the window to notice him. he watches you like it’s a private show - the delicate tilt of your cup, the way your eyes soften at the sight of families walking by the cafe. he’s captivated by how happy you are just watching them…and by how utterly unaware you are of his presence.

his eyes drink you in and just like that, he knows he’s so fucked.

so, so fucked.

he slowly approaches your table, clearing his throat when he’s close enough to signal your attention. your head snaps in his direction, your eyes wide in shock for a moment. you stand up quickly, holding out your hand.

“mr. nanami? it’s nice to meet you.”

the way your voice curves around his name sends a shiver straight through him. he wants to trace every line of your face, memorize the subtle way you tilt your head, but he forces himself to meet your eyes, his own sparkling with awe.

he doesn’t dare think about how your dress just barely touches your knees, or how the neckline of your dress dances that edge of scandalous and yet still conservative. he can’t think about that.

not now. not here.

not ever.

so he talks, long hours, his daughter’s quirks, the usual. you remain steady, but there is a spark in the way you watch him, like you are quietly enjoying seeing him struggle to keep his focus. the small gestures, the tilt of your head, the way your fingers move along the cup, and the quick flick of your eyes meeting his all draw his attention. he tries to focus, but the more he looks at you, the harder it becomes, and suddenly remembering what he was even saying feels completely impossible.

you talk about your experience like it comes naturally, explaining how you’ve handled every kind of family setup. it all looks effortless even though he can see a hint of nerves in the way you shift in your seat. your smile when you talk about the families you’ve cared for lights up your face and the way your eyes find his for a brief second makes his heart skip a damn beat.

“she’s just..” his words falter. “she’s just a little..different. or at least, that’s what others have said.”

“i like different,” you say softly, your eyes sparkling. “if everybody was the same, then life would be pretty boring, hmm?”

you continue through your resume and he tries—God, he tries—to follow the words spilling from your mouth, but fuck, he’s too busy obsessing over the way your lips curl around every letter like they’re made for him. his eyes fight to stay focused on yours, fight to not drift down to you plump, pink lips.

he knows if he even so much as glances down to them, his brain will completely cease to think professional thoughts. you don’t even realize when they do, and you don’t realize he’s completely zoned out now, not even hearing what you’re saying.

instead, he’s thinking about how your lips would feel against his, your shiny gloss coating them as he kisses you roughly. your hands moving to his hair as he holds you against him, small whimpers moving from your mouth to his. the smile that would grace his mouth when he feels your legs wrap around him, and the gasp that would fall from your lips as you felt his cock hardening in his slacks.

your dress would ride up your thighs as he held onto them tightly, making sure you don’t slip from his grasp. the outline of his length would slide against your pussy, your wetness seeping through not only your underwear, but his slacks. you would roll your hips against him, small whimpers escaping your lips as you felt that knot growing in the pit of your stomach.

“that’s it beautiful,” he would say in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “making both of us feel so good, hmm?”

“need m-more,” you would whine in response, your head spinning from the way the head of his cock rubs against your clit repeatedly.

he’s thinking about how good you would look splayed out on his bed naked, your curves fully on display for him. you would instinctively try to cover yourself up, embarrassed by your body under the weight of his stare.

“don’t do that,” he would say sharply, pulling your arms away from your chest. “dont ever hide from me.”

his lips trailing down your body would make you forget how insecure you were about your figure, his quiet praises about how gorgeous you were making you sigh in content. he would pause as his mouth hovered over your cunt, looking to you for permission.

you, of fucking course, would nod.

he’s thinking about how your hand would hold his hair as his tongue circled your clit. your head would fall back into his sheets as he feasted like a starving man, and your fingers would pull at his blonde strands. he would groan into your pussy, a sound that truly sounded like an animal feasting on his favorite meal.

“k-kento,” you would whine, your hips rolling against his face. “pl-please!”

he would slip a finger into your dripping cunt, hooking it just right to hit that spot that drives you insane. your legs would tremble around his head, that knot inside of you threatening to snap.

“let go,” he would groan, his eyes watching your facial expression. “let go for me, beautiful.”

and you would. the moment he tastes your sweet release, he knows he’s a man that truly ruined.

he’s thinking about the way his name would sound as it fell from your lips, begging him to fuck you harder, faster. he would feel the way you tighten around him, your legs trembling around him as you feel your release drawing closer. his hips driving his cock into you at such a pace that you can’t even form words properly anymore. just incoherent noises coming from your mouth that feels like it’s forced open. his fingers would find your clit, rubbing it just soft enough to give you that little bit you needed to let go.

your face would look absolutely ethereal as you cum around him. his name falling from your lips like a chant as he fucked you through your orgasm, not letting his pace falter for even a second. your eyes notice when his eyebrows scrunch together, and you know he’s about to follow right behind you. when you beg him to come inside of you, he lets go completely, groaning your name as your cunt milks him.

he’s thinking about the way your eyes would gloss over as you stared at the ceiling afterwards. he would grab a towel and clean you up, softly saying praises about how good you did for him. your sweet smile would add to your completely fucked out expression on your face courtesy of your boss.

the barista interrupts at one point, asking him if he would like a refill of his coffee - a normal occurrence. this snaps his attention from his filthy thoughts and he silently praises the barista for the interruption, hoping that moment helps him calm down.

it does - slightly.

the conversation between the two of you flows, and before you know it, he’s offering you the job. he slides a folder across the table toward you, and your fingers brush his as you reach for it. the touch is quick, but it makes him pause. a little jolt runs through him that has nothing to do with the paperwork. you glance up, catching his eyes for a beat, and there’s a quiet, shared smile in that brief contact.

he thinks he’s finally home free until you ask, soft and casual, “So… when do you want me to start?”

every part of him wants to say right now, right here. the spark from your touch is still buzzing through him, making it impossible to think straight. his chest feels tight, his brain is running in circles, and his mouth is refusing to work properly.

“uh… monday. 8 a.m. i’ll… i’ll send you the address.”

AAAAHHH MY FIRST JJK POST!! pls let me know if y’all enjoyed it aaaannnndddd i might post a part two?? love y’all! - mel

all works are my own. i please ask that you do not copy, or repost to any other sites.

eren jaeger stands behind the counter like he owns the place, his black button-down sleeves rolled to his forearms, hands steady as he wipes down the bar. his hair is pulled back loosely, strands slipping free with every movement he makes.

you look away first.

“don’t even pretend you didn’t just see that,” petra says as she leans into you, her voice low. “he’s been eye-fucking you since we walked in.”

“petra!” you choke on your drink.

“i’m serious,” she grins. “i work here. it’s literally my job to notice things, and he never stares like that.”

you risk another glance at him. he’s talking to someone now, mixing up whatever fruity cocktail they ordered. in the midst of it, his eyes flick back to yours like he feels you staring. heat crawls up your neck when you see one of his eyebrows go up, almost as if he’s taunting you.

“he’s just bored,” you say, turning your attention back to petra.

petra snorts. “bestie, it’s our work christmas party. if he’s bored, then it’s his own fault.” she nudges your arm. “go make a move.”

“absolutely not.”

“why not?” oluo cuts in. you hadn’t realized he was eavesdropping the entire time.

“because he’s,” you gesture vaguely. “well, he’s him. and i’m…me.”

petra raises an eyebrow. “and?”

“and i don’t flirt with bartenders who look like they could ruin my life.”

“that exactly the kind you flirt with.” she drains her glass and presses it into your hand. “go. get me another drink. i’ll watch your purse.”

you hesitate. your pulse thumps loud in your ears, rivaling the bass of whatever stupid song was playing. across the room, eren looks up again. your eyes meet, and his mouth just barely quirks.

your feet move before your brain catches up.

the dark wood of the bar is cool underneath your palms when you reach it. up close, he’s even more distracting. too tall, muscular shoulders filling out his shirt, jaw set in a way that makes you wonder what it would feel like under your fingers.

“what can i get you?” he asks, his voice lower than you expected.

you clear your throat. “uh, whatever you recommend?”

“well, considering that’s petra’s glass, i’ll just get her another vodka soda,” he says with a grin. “sound good?”

so, he saw the whole interaction. great. a blush creeps across your cheeks as you nod.

“petra drag you to this?” he says, turning to get a new glass.

“uh, yeah,” you reply, watching his movements as he pours the liquor into the glass. “said i needed to get out more and have some fun or something like that.”

“hm,” he hums briefly, sliding her drink to you. “i normally tell her to mind her business, but for once i’m glad she didn’t.”

your breath catches in your chest. “yeah?”

“yeah.” his gaze drops to your lips for just a split second. just long enough to make your pulse spike.

the noise of the bar fades and it feels like it’s just the two of you.

“you’ve been staring since i got here,” you say before you can stop yourself.

he doesn’t deny it.

“can you blame me?” he asks quietly.

something in the way he asks makes your stomach flip. his smile is gone along with his teasing tone. his eyes search your face like he’s deciding something.

“i get off in ten minutes,” he says, voice quiet like you’re the only person meant to hear it. “if you’re still here.”

your heart pounds. “and if i am?”

“then i’ll buy the next round.”

you swallow, nodding once. when you turn back toward petra, your legs feel unsteady.

it’s almost one in the morning when the two of you finally leave the bar.

the cold hits you all at once, a shock after hours of warmth and noise and eren’s attention wrapped around you like a second skin. the door swings shut behind you, muting the music and the laughter. you don’t even have to look back to know that petra is watching the two of you, a wide grin spread across her face.

eren’s hand settles on your lower back as he motions for a cab. your body reacts instantly, heat pooling low in your stomach, thoughts blurring around the simple fact of his touch.

“you okay?” he asks.

“yeah. just cold.” you nod.

he huffs softly, like a laugh, and pulls you a little closer without asking. his thumb presses into your back, and your mind helpfully supplies a hundred thoughts that you absolutely do not need right now.

a cab pulls over to the curb, and eren opens the door for you. he lets you slide in first before following in. he gives the driver an address you don’t catch, his voice calm like his heart isn’t racing the same way that yours is. when he leans back, his knee brushes yours.

he doesn’t move away. neither do you.

the can pulls away from the curb, and for a few seconds it’s just the sound of traffic and your own heartbeat thudding way too loud in your ears.

“so,” you say, trying to break the awkward tension. “is this part of the whole bartender service.”

he snorts under his breath. “hardly.”

“what is it then?”

he leans in just enough that you feel his warmth. “me not wanting the night to end yet.”

you choke a little. “wow. straight to the point.”

“i’m trying to be normal,” he says, then pauses. “it’s not working.”

you glance at him. “not really.”

that earns you a real smile, but it fades just as fast. the conversation stutters after that - half-finished thoughts, awkward pauses. every time you almost brush your hand against his, your focus derails completely.

you’re too aware of him. of the way his knee continues to touch yours, of how close his shoulder is to yours. of the fact that either of you could completely close the distance if you leaned in just an inch.

you don’t. neither does he.

eren exhales and turns to you. “we can stop pretending we’re gonna talk about the weather.”

your heart stutters. “yeah?”

“yeah.”

his hand finds your thigh, not too high, but the contact is enough to send heat rushing through you. you barely have time to inhale before he’s kissing you. the kiss is deep and hungry, like done waiting for you to make a move.

your fingers slide into his hair, tugging at the strands. the sound his mouth makes against yours goes straight through you. his other hand braces behind you, his body angling closer and he traps you between him and the seat.

you feel everything at once. his warmth, his weight, the pressure of his mouth, the way he kisses like he’s losing control by the second. your thoughts dissolve into the thin air that surrounds you.

too much. not enough. please, don’t stop.

he breaks the kiss just long enough to breathe, his forehead dropping to yours. “fuck,” he mutters, his voice rough. “you’re gonna kill me.”

you barely have the time to smile before he’s kissing you again, slower this time. his hand slides up your side, thumb brushing just underneath your ribs. a shiver runs through you hard enough that he notices.

“that do something for you?” he murmurs against your mouth.

you nod breathlessly.

“good.” he says, his grip tightening on you just a little.

you tilt your head, chasing him without thinking, and he responds immediately. he kisses you back like he’s been holding back all night and he’s finally letting himself have this. a low sound slips from his throat that makes your stomach tighten. he’s pulling you closer until there’s barely space to breathe between kisses.

for a moment, the cab disappears entirely. there’s only the heat of his body against yours, the unhurried way his mouth moves against yours, and the feeling of his hand just under your ribs like he’s grounding himself there.

a small whimper falls from your mouth into his, and you feel his hand on your thigh tighten. the heat that was already in your stomach grows.

“we’re here,” the driver says, cutting through the moment.

you pull apart like you’ve been shocked. eren closes his eyes for half a second, his jaw clenched like he’s trying to reign himself back in.

“yeah,” he says hoarsely, pulling cash from his wallet and handing it to the driver. “thanks.”

he opens the door and steps out, his hand staying inside waiting for you to take it. you do, and he helps you step back out into the cold. he pulls your chest against his, leaning down and placing a soft, quick kiss to your lips.

“come on,” he says softly. “before i lose what little self control i’ve got left.”

you almost laugh at that. if this is him controlled, you’d hate to see what he’s like when he stops pretending.

you keep hold of his hand as he leads you to the elevator. the second the doors slide open and you step inside, the vibe changes. it’s smaller in here. too close. you can feel him looking at you, slow and obvious like he’s not even trying to hide it anymore.

the doors close. the elevator starts moving. he doesn’t kiss you right away like you thought he would. he just looks at you for a second longer, his jaw clenched like he’s fighting with himself.

“fuck,” he mutters under his breath. and then he closes the distance.

his mouth crashes into yours, rough and hungry, and you barely have time to react before his hands are on your waist. he walks you back until your spine hit the wall, the metal cooling your skin through your clothes. you gasp into his mouth, making his finger grasp you tighter.

the elevator shifts as it climbs the floors, and he uses it as an excuse to pull you closer. he bends down, his hands sliding to your thighs, and lifts you up like it’s nothing. your legs wrap around his waist, you ankles hooking themselves together behind his back to make sure your secure.

“think i’m gonna drop ya?” he asks as his lips leave yours, kissing your jaw.

“you never know,” you say, letting your head fall back against the elevator wall. “accidents happen all the time.”

“i got you, pretty,” he grins into his kisses.

the elevator door chimes, but your too lost in the moment to realize that he’s now carrying you into his hallway. your arms tighten around his shoulders, making him groan into your neck as you press closer to him.

one of your hands weaves its way into his hair, pulling his head back just enough for him to look at your before putting your lips on his again. it only takes a few seconds before your back is hitting his door. his lips leave yours, and you take the opportunity to nip at his neck softly.

you swear his knees buckle, but he holds you strong.

“shit,” he murmurs, the sound of his keys echoing through the empty hallway. “why is this so diff-“

your lips kissing along his jaw stops his movements suddenly, one of his hands settling on the door next to you. you can’t help but giggle as you hear him take a deep breath, pressing his forehead to the door like it might help him focus. after a moment, you hear his keys jingle again, and finally the lock giving way.

he gets the door open, shoving it wide and walking both of you inside. he kicks the door closed without a care as to how loud it is, and his lips are back on yours.

his kiss this time is slower. deeper. his hands roam your body, not frantic but calculated, like he’s done pretending he doesn’t know exactly what he wants.

“tell me to stop,” he mutters against your mouth, his voice shaking like he’s barely holding it together.

you don’t.

he steps through his apartment, lips never leaving yours. it’s only a few steps before you feel cool granite against your cheeks, your skirt splayed out around you. eren’s lips trail along your jawline and down your neck, making your legs lock tighter around his waist. you feel his hardness against you, and you moan softly as your fingers dig into his hair.

you can’t help but roll your hips against him, causing a string of curses to fall from his mouth.

“fuck, shit,” he groans softly. “keep doing that.”

so you do. his hands grab at the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head as your hips slowly roll against him. soft kisses brush against your collar bone as his hands move to your back, unhooking your bra with ease. your breasts fall free as he throws your bra somewhere in his apartment.

he pulls away for just a moment, his eyes taking your half naked body in.

“so fucking gorgeous,” he mutters, bringing his mouth to one of your breasts.

you gasp loudly as his tongue rolls over your nipple, teasing it. “fuck, eren.”

he hums with content as he moves his mouth to your other nipple, his teeth softly biting it. his name leaves your mouth again, and a grin works its way onto his face. his tongue works the now hardened bud as one of his hands works the other one, pinching it just slightly.

a low moan leaves your throat as your hips stall their movements, the pleasure becoming too overwhelming. your fingers dig into his hair, keeping a hold on his head so he doesn’t move it. the skirt you had chosen to wear bunches up to your hips, displaying your pretty pink thong for him.

his mouth unlatched from you breast and begins to trail soft kisses down your stomach. you feel both of his hands work toward the back of your skirt, unzipping your skirt within seconds. one of his hands moves under your ass, pushing on it lightly so you’ll lift your hips for him.

of course you do, and your skirt is quickly discarded just like your bra was. he places his hands on your knees, parting them slightly as he takes a step back.

“fuck, look at you.” he says, his eyes moving all over your body.

his hands move farther up your thighs, his thumbs close enough to play teasingly with the thing fabric of your thong. your breath stalls at his touch, your eyes unable to look away from where his hands are.

“you like what you see?” you ask, his head snapping to meet yours quickly.

“you’re joking, right?” he says. “you’re..fuck, you’re perfect.”

without skipping a beat, he kneels down. his fingers gently tug on the strings on your waist, pulling your thong down your hips. instead of throwing them like the rest of your clothes, he shoves the pink fabric into the pocket of his jeans.

“eren!” you groan, stifling a laugh.

“you’ll get them back,” he says as his lips begin to kiss up your inner thigh. “or maybe you won’t.”

he spreads your legs wider. the cool kitchen air hits your pussy, sending a shiver down your spine. he pauses, his lips kissing just centimeters away from your clit.

he looks up at you. “you still okay? i can stop if you want me to.”

“if you stop right now,” you say, your voice shaking. “i’ll make sure you get put on santa’s naughty list.”

his eyes roll at your joke.

“well, we can’t have that.” is all he says before his tongue licks your clit.

your thighs immediately try to tighten around his head, but his hand hold them apart as he feasts. his tongue slides through your slit slowly, the tip of it paying extra attention to your bundle of nerves as it reaches it. your mouth falls open like you’re about to speak, but no words come out - just small gasps of air as you feel a pool of heat in your lower stomach.

you try to roll your cunt against his face, but the grip he has on your thighs prevents that. his eyes watch your facial expressions, trying to find the right spot that makes your eyes roll back.

he flattens his tongue as it glides through your cunt, moving it in circles once it reaches your clit. one of your hands pulls at his hair roughly as a curse falls from your mouth. he looks up to see your back arching in the air, your eyes closed in ecstasy.

found it.

he continues to do that, dragging your pleasure out as your thighs start to tremble every so often. you feel that familiar knot forming in your stomach. your heart races.

“eren!” you manage to gasp as one of his fingers teases your pretty hole, just lightly touching at the very end of it.

“i got you, baby,” he murmurs against your clit, sliding his finger into you.

a loud curse falls from your mouth as he hooks his finger up, hitting that spongy part of your cunt that drives you absolutely crazy. he slowly adds a second finger, hooking it in right next to the first one in just a few pumps.

his tongue dances across your clit, tracing his first name’s letters into it like brand. he knows you’re too distracted by the pleasure to notice it, but that’s okay to him. this is just for him.

his own little brand on your pussy, making it his now.

he watches as the upper half of your body slowly lies down against the countertop fully. your free hand cups one of your breasts, softly rolling it in your palms. his own hips jerk at the sight as he groans into your clit.

a high pitched whine falls from your lips, so he does it again.

“p-please, don’t stop!”

and he doesn’t. he keeps his fingers at their same rhythm, your cunt tightening around them with every pump. his tongue continues to lick his name into it, knowing if he tries to switch up it might throw you off.

your hips start to twitch, and your thighs start to tremble. he knows you’re there, so he only doubles down on his movements.

“eren! fuck!”

he doesn’t encourage you, doesn’t say a word - just works his tongue and fingers like his life depends on it. your back arches off the counter and you moan his name loudly, not a single fuck given that the neighbors can definitely hear it.

your wetness seeps from your cunt, covering his fingers. a string of curses leaves your lips as your orgasm washes over you, the strongest one you’ve had in years.

maybe petra was right. maybe you should have been getting dicked down this whole time. you didn’t even know an orgasm could feel this fucking good.

and that was just with his fingers and his tongue.

when he feels your cunt stop spasming, he slides his fingers out, a small whine leaving your lips. it’s quickly replaced with another gasp as his tongue slides through your folds, licking up every bit of your cum.

“mmm!” you whine, your hands pulling at his hair. your thighs trembling again.

he raises his head to look at you.

“don’t worry, pretty,” he says with a shit eating grin. “i’m done eating for now.”

he slowly rises to his feet, his hands grabbing the hem of his shirt and pulling it up over his torso. he leans over the counter to kiss up your stomach again. his tongue flicks your nipple softly on its journey back up to your face. one of his hands gently grabs your jaw, pulling you up to sit just by that.

“you still okay?” he asks quietly.

“y-yeah,” you somehow manage to speak.

“good.”

he kisses you softly, the taste of you coating his lips.

“do you want to stop?” he asks against your lips. “or can i take you to my bedroom and properly fuck you?”

he pulls away from you just enough to see your face fully.

your eyes are on his. “the second option.”

without hesitation, his hands grab you from under your thighs, sliding you off of the counter. your arms wrap around the back of his neck, your hands working their way back into his hair like they belonged there. you lock your feet around his waist at your ankles, and a moan leaves your throat as you feel his hardened, still fully covered, cock rub against your clit.

the friction makes him stop in his tracks for a moment in his hallway. he curses under his breath as he breathes, trying to collect himself. you rut your hips against him, chasing that sweet sensation.

“fuck,” he croaks your name, putting your back against the wall. “my room is light right there.”

“feels so good, ‘ren,” you mewl in his ear. “does it feel good to you?”

one of his hands leaves your thighs, snaking in between your bodies to undo the button and zipper on his jeans. they fall to the floor with ease. you’re both not entirely sure how his briefs come off - either your feet slipped them past his waist or his free hand, but when he ruts his cock through your folds you both could care less.

“so fucking wet,” he groans into your neck, feeling you coating the underside of his cock. “fuck, baby. so fucking good.”

the nickname sparks something inside of you, making your hips roll just a little fast against him. he gasps into the crook of your neck. he admits, he’s brought plenty of women home for a good time in his bed, but not a single one of them has stood in his hallway and rutted against him like a bitch in heat.

this was something new for him, and he fucking loved it.

“baby, gotta get to my room,” he groans, trying to keep his voice steady. “gonna make me fucking - fuck. cum if you dont stop.”

his words make you moan, knowing you have him so close already and you haven’t even fucked him yet.

“fuck me right here,” you whine. “don’t care.”

he says your name. “my condoms -“

“i’m on birth control,” you moan, your nails scraping at his back. “i’m fucking clean. please, ‘ren.”

you sounded pathetic and you knew it, but you didn’t care. it had been so long since somebody had fucked you, and you needed his cock now.

“i’m clean too,” he murmurs, his lips finding yours as he angles his hips just slightly, sliding himself into you.

your hands grabbed his shoulders roughly as he slowly worked his inches into you. tears prick at the outer corners of your eyes. he was fucking thick, every inch of him sliding against your walls like a perfect fit.

the tip of his cock hit that spongy part inside of you as he bottomed out. he slowly slides himself out, only to thrust himself back in again just before his tip came out.

he snaps his hips against yours, finding that rhythm that makes those little whines and moans that he adores fall from your lips again. both of his hands hold you up by your cheeks, spreading them apart as he fucks into you.

“so fucking tight,” he mutters into your neck. “like your pussy was made for me, baby.”

you moan his name at that. your cunt clenches around him.

“you like hearing that?” he asks roughly, snapping his hips into you. “you think your pretty pussy was made for my cock, baby?”

“y-yes!”

your nails dig into the back of his neck as you feel that knot form in your stomach again. he knows it too - the way those soft gasps fall from your lips, the way your clenching around his cock just like you did with his fingers.

just the thought of you coming around his cock has his hips driving into you at such a force that you can’t even say words. you try to gasp out his name, but only a loud groan comes out.

“i know baby,” he softly moans into your skin. “let go for me.”

and fuck, you do.

your back arches off of the wall as your eyes roll back seeing nothing but stars underneath your lids. your thighs tremble violently around his waist, your entire body shaking as your orgasm wrecks through you.

he doesn’t even have enough time to think about pulling out. your pussy tightens around him and he lets go completely, filling you to the brim with his cum.

“‘ren!” you gasp at the sensation.

“‘m so sorry,” he says into your neck. “couldn’t fucking, ugh, stop myself.”

his hips stop moving as you both come down from your highs. he leans his forehead to yours, breathing in time with yours.

“i’m so fucking sorry,” he mutters, almost as if he’s embarassed. “it hit me so fucking fast and i couldn’t-“

you shut him up by putting your lips on his, kissing him softly. there’s nothing rushed about this kiss. it’s simple, almost reassuring. you pull your face away and look at him.

“it’s okay,” you say quietly, one of your hands coming softly touching his cheek.

his eyes search yours, trying to see if you’re masking your true feelings by telling him it’s okay - but he sees nothing. he slowly pushes you just slightly up the wall, sliding himself out of you before gently lowering your feet to the floor. when you feel the carpet, your knees buckle just slightly. his hands move to your waist, steadying you.

“you good?” he asks, his voice gentle.

you nod. he bends down slightly, one of his arms at your back and the other behind your knees, and picks you up.

“you don’t need to-“

“i want to,” he says quietly as he carries you to his bedroom door.

he opens the door and steps inside. your eyes glance at the walls, and you swear you’ve never seen a room more fit for a person than this one. posters of bands you’ve never heard of litter the wall, and red led lights light up the entire space, even though they’re only around his computer desk.

his foot steps are soft as he walks over to his bed, placing you down on the comforter.

“i’m gonna, uh, get a towel real quick,” he says, suddenly avoiding eye contact with you. “you can make yourself at home or whatever you want.”

he hovers over you for a moment, watching as you sit up. your fingers grab his jaw gently, bringing his face to yours. you kiss him, and he swears his heart starts beating at a concerning pace.

you break the kiss, staring at him.

“you okay if i stay the night here?” you ask him, already knowing the answer.

“please,” he whispers, bringing his lips to yours again.

divider creds : @cursed-carmine