#(i still have one more final but shh)

[hollywoodsargeant]

boyish - chapter 12 16.5k words | 151.8k words total | loscar

“You’re just the expert of amicable break ups, or something.” Logan doesn’t think about Oscar saying that when one of Mia’s friends comes into his work the summer after graduation and asks if he’s “finally dating that Australian boy.” He says no, because he’s not, and she leaves appearing unconvinced. Logan can barely remember her name, but for some reason, he’s upset she doesn’t know Oscar’s. It makes him feel weirdly sick. He daydreams about crawling into a bucket of live bait and waiting to be thrown out to the water, seeing who will latch onto him first.

IT'S BEEN 84 YEARS (three months)... i hope this waters ur crops. 16k words of boyish loscar back on the table. my semester is almost over and i might explode if i don't finish this fic soon i have been dying to share the ending with you all <3 if anyone remembers me saying i was afraid of chapter 12 please know it kicked my ass way harder than i ever dreamed it could. PLEASE ENJOY!

+ here is a link to chapter one if you would prefer :)

[deathfavor]

i got their spaces on the roster and pictures up and some very rough detail info thrown together while i decide Kuroko’s birthday, will i have brain power for a tag drop tonight? stay tuned and find out!

[twinkletfout]

Baby making with 𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢

You both decided to take it easy after marriage before trying for a baby, and kento was perfectly fine with it. But when you finally approached him, telling him that you wanted a baby, with him. He didn't know that it had such an effect on him when it fell from your lips. Of course he did not expect that, you were tying his tie like usual before he leaves for work, a simple routine that he grew to love. "About having a baby.." you started, your eyes anywhere other than his.

Oh but kento couldn't be more happier, a slight smile tugging on the corners of his lips before he hums, "yes..?" He urges you to go on. Your eyes peeked up to face him, to see him already looking at you, intently. Watching every expression flashing across your face, your body language making it clear that you were shy. "Don't you think we should start trying..?" You said, the red tint spreading across your cheeks didn't go unnoticed by him. "Well, yes of course." He leaned in, his hands coming to wrap around your waist to pull you in before he whispered before kissing, The little goodbye kiss you both shared right before he goes to work. "Cant wait, for tonight"

The last dialogue of his was still replaying in your mind all day, your mind seems to wander to what he said, even when you were trying to focus on your work, even when you went up to open the door to him, even when he pushed you on to the wall as he kissed you impatiently like he was waiting for this moment all day, just like you.

He didn't know he was waiting this much for this moment with you, until now. Your nails gently clawed on his back as he entered you, shushing and murmuring sweet nothings and praises in your ear. And when he finally reaches all the way in, you could feel him whole, twitching uncontrollably against your deepest parts, you knew he was just as excited as you were. You whimpers and moans only fueling his desire before he starts moving, he holds you so close, so gently, his big hands wrapping you whole before he increases his pace, "shh, its okay, love, fuck— princess its too much, relax f' me?" He groans, because of the way you are squeezing down on him, cause god, you were feeling too good that you coudnt even control yourself.

Your mind was so full of pleasure, as you were laid on top of him, one of his hands wrapped around your waist and the other one holding your head gently as he rammed inside you. His face cuddled to the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent. "Gon fill you up soo good, hmkay?" And he holds you close to him, when he finally cums, pushing into you deeper as his hips thrust for one last time as he dumps his final load inside. Gosh it feels warm, the way you could feel him pumping you so full. "Fuck- you look so beautiful like this, sweetheart" he whispered as he pulled out, to see your pussy dripping with him. GAHHHH I WANT HIM SO BADD

[saerotonins]

big dick!caleb thoughts

Thinking about big dick!Caleb training your pussy to take every inch of him when the time you’re ready finally comes. 

Him painstakingly stretching your pussy out every other day with his thick fingers, toying your clit so he can easily insert two or three of his fingers when he’s feeling generous enough.

Big dick!Caleb refuses to use any toys because he wants you to feel him and only him, but it was clear to him that you need more stimulation other than his digits (much to his dismay).

The whirring of the vibrator against your clit makes him feel irrationally angry because it should be only him that’s making you feel good. The sinful noises released from your lips should be because of his cock and not some stupid toy. 

Big dick!Caleb who developed jealousy towards the dildo he purchased just to train your pussy to take him so well. The silicone head disappearing into your entrance makes him feel dizzy, wishing it was his cock inside of you. 

You feel his dick twitching from your behind as you settle on his lap as you moan his name, “quit squirming baby, fuuuck, you’re killing me here,” he says as he tries to look for some sort of friction to take care of his raging boner.

Big dick!Caleb who resorted to eating you out while his fingers do their job inside of you, making you come multiple times a night just so he can give you the pleasure you seek while he suffers with his hard-on.

Big dick!Caleb who almost crumbles when you beg him to suck his dick, trying to reciprocate the pleasure he has been giving you for the past few weeks since he can’t possibly imagine how he could fit his whole cock inside of you for the time being.

For your sake, he practices his self-control, saying no to your adorable face because he knows you couldn’t fit him in your mouth anyway.

Big dick!Caleb who resorted to jacking himself off every after session for release, for every pump of his fists he wished it was your pussy clenching around his cock, eager to milk him dry. The stolen panties pressed against his nose doing little to his imagination as he savors the remnants of your smell from the piece of lacy cloth.

His moans ringing against the bathroom walls as he fantasizes putting you in different positions, your walls feeling every vein on his cock while you babble like a bitch in heat, all in his mercy, pumping you full with his seed and leaving no drop behind.

Big dick!Caleb’s patience is running thin, he might have practiced self-control the whole time, upstanding discipline and determination courtesy of his secret training from the fleet coming in handy when it comes to you, but his cock buried deep into your pussy is one thing really needs and he doesn’t know until when he can last.

But when the time finally comes, he’s a goner. He sees your eyes pleading for him to finally fuck you. Caleb hesitates for a bit but when he sees the determination in your eyes, he agrees.

You exhale as you silently encourage yourself to sink on his cock, Caleb’s large hands digging into the fat of your hips, guiding you along his. 

Big dick!Caleb feels pathetic, the moment the head of his dick comes in contact with your hole already makes him weak, his breath becomes uneven as he feels himself stretching you out.

You cry out as you feel the dull ache spreading in your core, you know yourself that Caleb has been very patient in helping you prep for him, you wince as you feel like you already want to tap out when half of him isn’t inside you yet.

Sensing your frustration and the tears that start to well in your eyes, Caleb starts to coax you and your worries away.

“Shh, take it slowly sweetheart, we all have the time in the world, yeah?” He states, a large hand soothing the top of your head and glides along your face. The pads of his fingers find their way on your cheekbones, “it’s okay, you still have me,” Caleb’s voice was comforting, but did little to ease your worries away.

“I just want to make you feel good, you’ve been good and patient with me,” your eyes stare into his depths, keen to get the favor back to him. 

A soft smile spread against Caleb’s lips contrary to the swirl of arousal brewing within him, “I know baby, and I know you’ll do great,” he places a wet kiss against the corner of your mouth, “you can do it, yeah?”

A slow yet determined nod meets his encouragement, and Caleb thinks you’re the most adorable this way.

“Maybe you just need a little bit of guidance, how’s that sound?” His low voice trembles against his chest as you feel his free hand dance towards your pussy. 

“What do you mean— ah!” your question is cut short when you feel his calloused hands pinch the bundle of nerves in your pussy.

“Ah look at you go, baby, already doing so good just f’me, yeah?” You feel his rough pads brush and circle against your clit. You take a sharp breath as you close your eyes, the familiar sensation spreads in your body like clockwork, your head is thrown back as your back arches, chasing his digits.

“See how wet you are, sweet girl? Can’t believe this is all just for me,” His sultry voice echoes against your ears as your hips voluntarily grind against his hands.

You take this as your chance to sink lower into his cock, taking a deep breath as you suck into every inch of his length. Caleb fights every fiber of his being from slamming himself into you, letting you take your sweet time claiming him. “Shiiiit baby, stop teasing me,” you can feel his nails dig into the flesh of your thighs, restraining himself as he waits for your next move.

“‘M not, a-ah, s’too much!” You stop halfway, feeling his cock pulsating inside of you. The lines blurring between pain and pleasure floods your whole being, your mind hazy but still determined to make everything work.

“I knooow, baby, ‘m sorry, but you’re a big girl, yeah? You can do it for me, sweets,” his assurance leaves the tip of his tongue but it’s partially for himself as well. The chains of control making it hard for him to just take the reign and finally get every inch of himself into you but he doesn’t want to hurt you and so he relents, letting you do your thing, at your own pace.

Clutching on his shoulders, you force yourself further down his cock, the delicious ache stretching against your hole prominent but a welcomed feeling nonetheless, you take a sharp breath every time you sink in while feeling Caleb’s hands  on the globes of your ass guiding you down.

Your thighs burn as you keep yourself balanced on top of him until you finally meet his.

You stop on your tracks as you feel yourself settled on his thighs. Wide eyed, you look at him with enthusiasm. “Caleb, I think I did it,” you say in a whisper. But when your eyes met his, it was shut tight, it was obvious that every restraint that he put on himself is working overtime.

Oh how he badly wants to slam himself into you.

Swallowing down and taking a deep breath, he looks at you proudly, “see, knew you could do it, baby.” Caleb hides his face in the crook of your neck, taking your scent in as he controls himself from going berserk. 

You meet him in an embrace, hands exploring his nape as you bask in each other’s presence.

“Baby,” you hear Caleb breathe against you.

“Yeah?”

You can hear him gulp before he says his next words, “can I… move now? Please?” 

To the untrained ear, it might sound like a simple request but to you, it was obvious that it was laced in some level of desperation. You swallow down your nervousness, “o-okay.”

That was the only thing Caleb needed before he lifted your hips up and his thighs started to meet yours.

“Ah!” the sting of his thrust was masked with the pleasure of your pussy hugging his dick. Your back arching from the sheer force and ecstasy his dick is giving you.

Slap! Slap! Slap!

The constant clapping of your thighs echoes through the whole room, every vein on his dick felt in every inch of your walls, the mixture of your moans harmonizing as he indulges himself in every thrust.

“My sweet, sweet, girl, taking my cock like it was hers to claim, you’re so good to me,” his thrusts became more and more violent, the tip of his length kissing your cervix just right. Every in and out feels like he’s hitting every right spot in your body. 

“C-caleb! ‘M sooooo close, nghh ha-ah!” incoherent noises started to leave your mouth, your mind fogged with ultimate lust with the man inside of you.

“Shh, wait for me sweetheart, hold on for me just a sec, ‘kay? You can do it for me,” his encouragement sends shivers down your spine. You could only nod as you were unable to find the words to reply, mind in the gutter as you feel yourself get stretched deliciously, pussy molding every vein in his pounding cock.

Your senses heightened, you feel yourself get closer to your climax, like hanging on a piece of thread, you find it hard to stop, surge of emotions filled within you as Caleb claims you. His fingerprints danced against your skin as he fought everything within him to go rougher.

You soon feel your back hit against the cold and soft sheets of your bed, laying down as Caleb places your ankles on his shoulders, “patience, baby, we’ll get there soon enough,” he says as you feel his lips gently placed on your forehead, a silent praise for how you’re taking him well so far.

Caleb slowly pulls his dick out and as you were about to protest, you feel him slam against you, harsher than his thrusts from earlier. You feel yourself gasp, his fat girth slowly fitting just right into you, “mngh, such tight fucking pussy, glad I trained it to be mine,” your fingers grip the sheets beneath you, knuckles forming white as you let out a mixture of whines and moans, begging him to take more of you.

“Caleb, s’good, hng— moreee!” Your begging does not fall on deaf ears as he rams his cock into you, force harsher than it was and pleasure begins to intensify. 

“Hah, look at you and your cunt getting greedy, sucking me in like a bitch in heat, yeah?” Caleb let out grunts as he lets himself get lost into you. “Fuuuuck, should fuck you like this everyday, get your womb full of my seed and have my babies grow inside of you, yeah?”

“Yes! God ha-ah, fill me up please, ngh—”

“Wan’me to make you a momma so bad, glad I’m treating your pussy like the whore that it is for my cock, yeah?”

“Mh-hmm! Want it— hah— so bad,” your words become incoherent as you get drunk with his cock stuffing you full, you can feel him pulsating as he continuously bullies himself into your tight cunt.

The whole thing feels like sin, but you couldn’t get yourself to stop, feeling every inch of his mean dick brings you ecstasy, your eyes rolling at the back of your head, bringing you higher than any drug ever could.

“‘M close, baby, meet me there, yeah?”

“Uh-huh! Inside p-pleaseee,” you whine, feeling yourself clench against his dick.

“Shiiit, baby, can’t hold any longer when you’re squeezin’ me like this, mngh—” his grunts filled the cool air, jaw clenched as he got closer, dick twitching while feeling your hole hugging every inch.

Caleb gives it a few more thrusts before letting himself go inside of you. White ropes of cum painting your insides as his cock pulsates itself inside, filling your womb full of his seed. Your feet curl at the weird but welcomed sensation, moaning in delight at the satisfying feeling rushing in your body.

Both of you were panting as Caleb fucks his cum into you, “let’s not waste anydrop, yeah, sweets?”

“Ngh, mh-hm,” your whine draws on as he slowly gets all of his seed in your cunt, swiping his tip on the trickling release against your thighs and ass.

Caleb collects himself before cradling your face in his hands, fixing your hair away from your sweat sheened face. He drinks the sight before him, your cockdrunk face and hazy eyes looking at him, exhausted but beyond relieved. 

“You did it baby, ‘m so proud of you, I love you,” he says before kissing your forehead, a gentle and sincere gesture contrary to the intense lovemaking he just did with you.

Dazed and worn out, you decide to reply with a small smile, “love ya, too,” were the last words you said before slowly drifting to sleep.

He lets out a boyish smile and places another chaste kiss on your lips. He never felt this content until now.

Big dick!Caleb swears that from now on, he will make a mold of every inch of him with your tight cunt, like it was made for him to dote and love, fitting right in just like a glove.

note: this was supposed to be a short ramble but i got carried away, my bad lol.

dividers by @/cafekitsune

[leafzu]

Imagine Caleb returning after almost a year and seeing you from across the street. He's in his colonel uniform, sunglasses on. But he doesn't look your way.

Overwhelmed with mixed feelings of both joy and anxiety, you run up to him and grab his hands. “Caleb..is that really you?.” He looks at you, takes off his glasses. It is him.

“Caleb! Where have y-” “You're mistaken.” he pulls back his hand from you, harshly. “Such a bother,” he mumbles to himself and walks away, not looking back at you.

Your whole world crumbled. You just stood there, watching his back disappear from you once again as it did a year ago.

The doorbell rings back in your apartment. Life has been so hard for you lately. Who could it be at this hour?

The door opened and the last person you expected to see was there. Caleb, still in his uniform. His eyes soft just like your old Caleb. That stern expression gone.

“It's me I'm..” “Why are you here?” Heat rose up in your cheeks, hot tears formed making your vision blurry. “Please, I can expl-”

A cry could be heard from the corner of the apartment. You ran from there, leaving the door open and Caleb standing. He followed a little behind you, tension filling him.

A little peak in the room and all the color from his face drained. “Shh it's alright. Mama's here,” you cooed rocking the baby.

Caleb's breath became heavy. His hands shaking. The baby's eyes, similar to his purple ones. Hair as dark as his.

“We..” His eyes went from the baby to you. “You were pregnant?.”

Silence filled up the room. Only the cooing from your baby could be heard.

“You should leave.” You looked away from him, holding your baby tightly. “But-” “Caleb please.” For the first time he looked into your eyes. Pain and anger filled them.

He knew you were hurt from the encounter earlier, but he did it to protect you.

But you had a baby? His baby? All alone. You must've gone through so much. When did you know? Why didn't you tell him? Did you come to know after he...left?

No wonder you looked so worn out, so tired. But even then, you were the most beautiful to him. He was finally home, to you. To the child he had with you.

But are you willing to forgive him? To give him one more chance to show you how much you mean to him and that he will never leave you again.

Ever.

Pt 2

A lot of Caleb angst drabbles in my mind lately. Excuse the writing if it's sort of out of place, not proofread.

[evie-sturns]

yapper - Chris Sturniolo

summary: you talk, a lot. chris finally has enough of your voice and puts his hand over your mouth, little did you both know that this would let to a lot more than expected.

contains: smut, fluff, shy!chris, yapper!reader, risky sex.

---------------------------✩------------------------------

9:28pm

"okay- but guess what happened next! she literally took off runnings, like- i mean i know she was embarrased but running away is just gonna make an even bigger fool of yourself right?" i ramble on and on, and on... and on.

"but-" i start, cutting myself off with a gasp, "i forgot to tell you oh my god! okay so you know that one girl who i used to work with, wait whats her name?"

chris suddenly speaks up, "baby," he sighs, his voice has a twinge of frustration in it, which doesnt suprise me.

ive been speaking his ear off this whole hang out, but its not my fault that i just have so much to tell chris.

i stay silent for about 3 seconds before instantly starting up again,

"jen-! that was her name, okay so basically i found out that her and her boyfriend are in like this massive fight right now because she fucki-"

chris cuts me off,

his hand clasps over my mouth, which shut me up pretty fast.

i stare at him with my round eyes, his hand still firmly plastered over my lips.

he clears his throat, breaking eye contact quickly.

i slowly reach up, grabbing his wrist and trying to gently lift his hand away.

he keeps it there though, his gaze drifitng back over to me.

chris's eyes are fluttering shut everytime he blinks, his cheeks burning red as the silence in the room grows, its nice for a change though.

i open my mouth to try protest, but my voice is muffled by his palm. "mmf- chris just-" i start,

he shakes his head, "all you do- is just talk y/n! oh my fucking god."

a grin spreads across my face, which chris seems to take note off.

suddenly he sits up right, grabbing my shoulder with his free hand.

he gently lays me down on the couch, his hand still plastered over my lips.

he then hovers over me, staring down into my eyes.

i feel heat pool in my lower abdomen, goosebumps travelling up my arms as the eye contact with chris grows stronger.

he gently removes his hand away from me, his face inches from mine.

he it between my legs, his torso millimeters above mine and his hair tickling my forehead.

“not.. another word.” he whispers,

i nod slightly,

he brushes his lips against mine, our noses brushing.

suddenly his lips connect with mine, my chest instantly tightens as i grab at him,

he inches my legs further apart with his knee, which shortly after brushes against my clothed cunt.

i let out a needy whine against his lips, causing him to pull away,

“shh sh.” he shushes me, his hands on either side of my head.

“i wan’ you..” i whisper,

chris’s cheeks flush red, his eyes darting away for a second,

“yeah?” he mutters, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he blinks a few times.

i nod, “i- i really do.”

i sit up on my elbows before reaching for his belt buckle,

he doesn’t say anything, just letting me.

i unbuckle his belt, a soft thump fills the room as it drops onto the couch.

i tug down his jeans, and he helps me discard them to the side.

his hands rest on my knees,

he suddenly speaks up, “i- i mean- we really can’t.. matt and nick are home and nick has a friend over it’s- it’s so risky..”

i frown slightly, “but- please! that’s not fair!”

he shakes his head, letting it tip back.

“i’ll be really.. really quiet i swear.” i whisper,

“i doubt that..” he scoffs,

“cant we just go to your room?” i groan,

he shakes his head, “nick will be right next door, he’ll hear stuff..”

i look up at him through big wide eyes, toying with the waistband of his boxers,

“i’ll be so good and quiet..” i breathe,

“fine- fine okay- just- god..” he mumbles,

he reaches for my waistband and tugs my small shorts off, before pulling at my panties.

he practically tears my tank top off, leaving me fully revealed.

“we have to be quick though.” chris mutters, pulling his shirt off over his head, leaving him only in his black boxers.

i nod with a smile,

he palms himself through his boxers as he hunched over, clearly overwhelmingly horny.

i tug down his boxers, the cold air hits his tip, causing him to let out a shaking gasp.

“please..” i grin,

he nods, “you- be quiet.” he whispers, grabbing my hip and lining himself up with me.

my arousal coats his tip as he gently presses it in,

the stretch hurts so good, i let out a small moan.

he slowly presses more inside of me, my walls clamping around him at the size,

“fuck- chris-“ i moan out, completely forgetting the one rule he had for me,

he stares down at me, his movements stilling,

“i fucking told you, be quiet.” he grunts,

“i can’t..” i whine loudly, his thickness stretching me out.

he moves his hand, placing it right back over my mouth with a small tut.

he starts to thrust into me, making sure his strokes are deep each time.

i squeeze my eyes shut, my whole body feeling like it’s on fire,

my stomach tingles heavily, i purse my lips together, trying to stop my noises but it’s not working.

a moan rips out of me, muffled by chris’s palm.

“noisy girl, fuck..” chris groans, his pace rapidly picking up speed.

i wrap my legs around his waist as i frantically grip at his back, my nails sinking into his skin.

my moans get increasingly louder as i turn my head to the side, making chris hand on my mouth slip away.

“you just- you just can’t shut up can you?” he grumbles, his voice trembling as he gets closer,

“i- fuck!” i babble out,

suddenly, chris pulls out of me.

empty, is the only word to describe how i feel.

“chris no- please i was so close- please!”

he cuts me off, “sit up.”

i sit up on the couch, the dull ache between my thighs frustrating me.

he gets up on his knees, his cock right infront of my face.

i stare up at him frustratedly, folding my arms,

“since you won’t keep your mouth shut, gonna have to atleast put it to work hm?” he whispers,

i roll my eyes, my hole fluttering from loss of contact.

he reaches two fingers down and taps my cheek, “open.”

i part my lips,

“go on, use that damn mouth for good.” he mutters, his hand reaching round to my hair and twirling it into a makeshift pony.

“fuck you.” i mumble quietly, a small grin on my lips.

he gently presses his tip to my lips, i wrap my lips around it, tasting myself on him.

i let out small grunts as i take him further down my throat, my lower jaw already aching.

his tip kisses the back of my throat, making me squeeze my eyes shut.

“good, so good..” he groans,

he starts to move his hips, gently fucking my face.

i let him, keeping my lips firmly around him.

his pace quickens, the head of his cock repeatedly hitting the back of my throat.

small gagging noises fill the room as his pace gets even faster.

“oh fuck baby- oh god, gonna— gonna let me fill that pretty mouth up?” he rambles, his grip on my hair tightening,

i nod,

“that’s a good girl,” he whimpers with one final thrust of his hips,

spurts of white shoot down my throat, a smile growing on my face as i swallow it all,

he gently pulls out of my mouth, rubbing my cheek with his free hand.

he flops back onto the couch, his cheeks red and sweaty.

his hair sticks to his forehead from the dampness, he gently pulls me onto his lap.

“can you fuck me now chris, so mean of you to edge me like that.” i huff, rolling my eyes.

“why would i let you cum? you weren’t following instructions properly yeah?” he chuckles, earning a loud groan from me

i tip my head foward onto his shoulder

“my jaw hurts.” i groan,

“does that mean you’ll finally stop all the talking?” he grins,

“no— not at all actually- i still haven’t finished my story!”

-

taglist #1

@jayz4dayz4 4 @sassysturniolo2008 @nyktoxs-lover r @nathando-64 esgf @starsturns234 @chrissturnsss s @joemamaaa42069 9 9 @sturnthepot t t @zayyluvz z z @realuvrrr r r r @livialifesblog @sturnioloblogs s @riowritesitall l l @raysmayhem-72 @sturnsdoll @obvisturns @stupid4sturniolo @meerkatzthings @witchofthehour r @rosalierenee43 @gabrielle-brun1 @ilovemymannnnnnn n @sturnioloxlver r @buckys-goodgirl @sturniol0s @ilovemymannnnnnnn @chr1sgirl4life @luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl @luvr4miya a @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney y y @lovingchrissposts @333michelle e @h3arts4harry y @jamiesturniolo o @chrisstopherfilmed @itzdarling @ @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @ev3rgreenxtrees enxtrees @certifiednatelover r r @solarsturniolo @mattsenthusiast t t t t @yomamaslays4lyfe e @peachmelbaesunpostre @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209 9 @creamoncreamoncream2 @szobofc c c @mattscoquette @blahbell668 @sturniolo04 @bitchydragonparadise e @sturni0l0tripletzz z 0 @ratatioulle  @sturnsforlife @mattsonly @justalittle47 7 @sunsetsturniolos s @downbad4reid  

[suguann]

Ex-husband!Gojo who doesn’t understand that the parents (mostly the moms who try to hide behind their giant sunglasses) at Mio’s soccer games talk, and he chooses today to pull you into his lap. Several sideways glances cast your way at how cozy you both must look as you watch your four-year-old daughter run in the wrong direction across the field because she got distracted by a butterfly.

He doesn’t hear what they talk about—aren’t they divorced? I’ve never seen anyone divorced act like that—or (worse) when they try to be subtle about their probing into Satoru’s dating life while you stand there with a stilted smile plastered onto your face. 

(More than likely, he’s listened to every word and doesn’t give it the same amount of thought or care as you do.)

“Gojo,” you hiss, trying to move off his lap to no avail. “I have my own chair.”

“Can you still call me that if it’s your name too?”

A huff. “Go bother somebody else—”

“Shh,” he tells you, tugging you further against his chest. “You’re missing the game. Mio’s finally found her way back onto the field again.”

“But everyone’s staring at us.” You catch the eye of a mother tearing into a pack of fruit snacks.

“So? Let them stare.”

Everyone starts cheering, and you both watch Mio chase the ball down the field, her little body ducking between the taller kids. 

“That’s my girl!” Gojo shouts over the other parents.    

And then Mio kicks the ball into— 

The wrong goal.

“Maybe we should have let her join t-ball,” you whisper, though you both clap as your daughter starts doing not-quite cartwheels in the middle of the field.

Ex-husband!Gojo who still does work around the house every Friday, and to your dismay, shirtless now that the weather is warmer.

The plate in your hands has a few scuffs, half of a cartoon character’s face scrubbed off to oblivion that Mio will have something to say about later. Doing everything to stop from staring out into the yard where he’s mowing the lawn because the window is right there, above the sink, to tempt you.

It’s difficult when his chest glistens with sweat from the early-summer heat and how those stupid gray cotton shorts (that you know he picked out with the sole purpose of torturing you) sit dangerously low on his hips— 

He looks towards the kitchen window, a crooked smile stretching across his lips. The blood rushing to your brain, that must be what makes you give a sudsy wave and cause heat to creep into your middle.

Ex-husband!Gojo who strolls into your room while you’re putting away laundry one afternoon, and unsurprisingly shirtless as he crowds you against the dresser. Front to back. His mouth at your ear.

That steady resolve you pride yourself in crumbles at your feet, and you swallow the tiny, helpless sound working its way up your throat. A slippery thing that slips out. “Satoru…”

“You know, these little shorts were always my favorite,” he tells you, his fingers playing with the elastic waistband.

“Were they?”

“Don’t you remember? Couldn’t get them out of the way fast enough.”

Your mouth is dry, something playing in a loop in the back of your brain. Early morning, breakfast cooling on the stove, crumbs stuck to your cheek, these shorts dangling off the leg propped up on the counter—

“Where’s Mio?”

A kiss to your nape, a knowing smile. “Taking a nap.”

Ex-husband!Gojo who works your shorts and underwear off your legs before pulling you to the edge of the bed. 

“Satoru, we—we can’t keep doing this—”

Your words trail off into a moan when he slaps your clit with the leaky tip of his cock, and wet sounds echo in the room.

“Yeah? Go on, baby,” he tells you, slowly splitting you open, stuffing you full, two puzzle pieces slotting perfectly into place like it should be (how it’s always been). “Tell me some more why we can’t keep doing this.” 

You can’t, not with how he’s filling you up in the way only he knows how. Not when he hooks two thick fingers into your mouth because you’re getting too loud, pinning you against the bed with your cheek buried into your pillow, every sound choking into nothing.

You wriggle underneath him, fingers clawing at the comforter and your back arching.

“Christ, look at you,” he growls, leaning over you, teeth bared. “Fucking look at you. You needed this, didn’t you?”

Ex-husband!Gojo who presses what leaks out back inside you with his thumb after he pulls out, wet and sticky circles between your legs until you fall apart again with a soft cry. His thumb is there again, at your entrance, pushing and stopping like a plug, muttering something under his breath that sounds like, “Can’t waste it.” 

And quieter, “Maybe it’ll take.”

(Who knows?

Maybe it will. Worse things have happened.)

Ex-husband!Gojo who stays for dinner for the fourth time that week, and none of the reasons have been because Mio asked if he could. It’s more about the fact that you’ve enjoyed how whole your family feels again, that you can pretend for a moment this is what you do every night.

(How it was probably always going to come back to this.) 

That your wedding ring doesn’t sit in the back of your sock drawer, and his isn’t tucked away in his wallet. That you don’t feel guilty when you think about saying I love you or wishing he’d stay longer—

“Daddy, you gonna lose,” Mio tells Satoru as Mario Kart appears on the screen.

“We’ll see,” he laughs, tugging on one of her pigtails until she’s giggling and swatting his hand away.

You lean back against the couch, watching them with a small smile you share with Satoru over your daughter’s head.

[adelicatebubble]

more hcs about dae ho as a father and his breeding kink please!!

kang dae-ho as a dad | sfw - nsfw | headcanons ᰔ .ᐟ

- he's shocked when you mention wanting to start a family with him

- 'a baby? with me? you're sure? you want a mini you or me running around?'

- he's wanted it so badly for a while, but he never wanted to pressure you into it

- once he knows you're both okay with it, he'll want to start trying immediately

- he's over the moon when he finds out the two of you are expecting

- he'll start researching everything from parenting books, childbirth classes, and even goes to his sisters for advice

- before even reaching your second trimester, the nursery is already set up as well as your hospital bag and a small list of baby names

- stockpiles on baby supplies; diapers, pacifiers, rattles and other cute toys, strollers, blankets. this man goes all out

- he will often crouch down to kiss your stomach and talk to the baby

- 'i think she'll have your eyes'

- 'how do you know it's a girl?'

- 'just a feeling, my love'

- he'll take care of all of your pregnancy cravings

- throughout your trimesters he's so incredibly protective of you, ensuring your safety everywhere you go

- you and the baby are his number one priority

- he wants you to depend on him, but also be independent in your own right

- he wants you to feel supported every step of the way

- reassurance is a given with him

- 'you're safe with me, i'm here alright?'

- 'whatever happens, we're in this together'

- he adores kids very much (and the thought of you with his!)

- he finds you being good with kids so attractive

- no doubt in my mind that this man is the best girl dad

- also four sisters-in-law, you two have all the support in the world

- he'll be the gentle but firm type of parent

- if you're exhausted, he'll take over for you

- 'shh~ your mom is resting, let her get some rest, yeah?'

- he's so relieved when your newborn is finally placed in his arms, he wouldn't be able to help himself smiling at you in adoration

- 'look at what we made' he smiles down at your baby lovingly

- dae-ho couldn't be any happier with the three of you

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ ˎˊ˗ nsfw under the cut

- he desperately wants to get you pregnant so he can experience having a big family again, like how he grew up with four older sisters, it's what he's used to

- even after you have your first child together, he still wants to give you more

- thoughts of you being a mother to his kids turn him on so much

- he thinks you would look so pretty pregnant

- he'll be very curious about how your milk tastes so expect him to beg to try it

- very, very passionate sex

- he has a huge breeding kink

- he can go for hours with his military stamina

- when breeding you, you'll go for multiple rounds just so that he can be sure that you're carrying his baby

- 'are you going to be able to fit another load inside you, hm?'

- he fits inside you perfectly, massaging your insides

- 'fuck baby, you take me in so well'

- 'it's like you were made for me'

- he becomes quite possessive

- 'you're all mine, every inch of you is mine.'

- he won't instantly pull out, he'll stay put for a while almost as if he's plugging you

- when he does pull out, if his cum starts to leak out he'll softly fuck it back in

- 'we can't be sure you're pregnant just yet'

[have-you-seen-my-sanity]

Lights out smut with In ho?🤤

First time doing smut for him, I'm nervous

Lights out

Squid Game masterlist

Hwang In-ho/Frontman/Young-il x fem!reader

Cw/triggers: Smut, p in v sex, risk of getting caught, nsfw, unprotected sex.

"Lights out in 3... 2... 1..."

You curled up, the only things you heard were the rustling of the sheets and some creaking of the beds.

When you were about to sleep, you heard footsteps in the silence, getting louder as they approached what seems to be you.

Then a hand moved to cover your mouth, your eyes widened.

"Shh, it's just me." Came the soft, familiar voice of Young-il.

He released you, climbing in beside you on the bed, his front brushed against your hip, letting you feel the hardness present between his legs.

A small moan made it's way out of you. "The others, they can hear us if we–"

"I know," he hushed you gently by whispering into your ear "but I couldn't sleep and I... have a big problem."

His hand slipped underneath your green sweatpants, gently squeezing your thigh.

A needy gasp, almost moan slipped from your lips as he pushed your pants down, his hand cupped your pussy through your panties, finding them already damp.

"Looks like I came at the right time." He teased, moving to settle between your legs.

"But what if the others wake up?" You whispered, looking around in the dark.

"No one will wake up." Young-il reassured, reaching out to pull your panties to the side and running his fingers through your wet folds.

Your hips bucking up, along with silent moan hushing through your lips. Young-il gently covered your mouth once more.

"Think you can stay quiet for me?" He propped himself on his hand, while the other reached into his pants, pulling his hard cock out, rubbing the precum stained tip along your folds.

"Young-il.." you mewled, but luckily his hand on your mouth covered it up.

He pushed inside slowly, a tiny, needy moan could be heard from him as be bottomed out inside you.

"Try to stay quiet okay beauty?" He moved slowly at first, savoring the feeling of your warmth. His hand moved to cup your cheek, while you tried everything to stay quiet but it was impossible when the risk of getting caught felt so good with him.

Young-il angled his hips perfectly, hitting the spot inside you, making you bite your lip as a moan threatened to escape.

Young-il chuckled lowly, leaning down, letting his hot breath brush against your face. "What did I tell you, little beauty?"

A tiny whimper could be heard, and it made him smile.

"If you can't stay quiet on your own, I gotta do it myself then." He whispered into your ear before his lips met yours, swallowing your moans and gasps.

Everything he did to you, everything he made you feel in this moment had you tightening around him and your eyes rolling back into your skull.

"Ohh, fuck.. you're getting close?" He mumbled against your lips, speeding his movements, then returned to kiss you.

His hips stuttered against yours, his thrusts became sloppy and his throaty groans against your mouth intensified.

His breath against you was so hot, you thought it would burn your skin, you held back another needy whimper, your back arching in desperation of your release.

Finally, as Young-il gently bit down on your lower lip, you couldn't take it anymore and gushed all over his cock still plunging sloppily into you, the sound of your cry was easily swallowed by him.

"There my little beauty, you did so well." Just as he said that, he pulled out, letting out a strangled groan, spilling his hot cum on your thigh and the mattress.

Young-il cleaned both of you up with some tissues he had in his pocket, and helped getting you dressed back.

He collapsed down next to you, admiring your messy face in the low red light of the X on your side of the hall.

You moved closer to him, he wrapped his arms around you, feeling almost overprotective of you now.

"Young-il?" You asked quietly.

"Yes?"

"Do you think this was the last time we had..." You stopped, letting the words linger in the air.

Young-il smiled. "Oh, don't worry about that. I will make sure you get out of here alive," he pressed a gentle kiss on your temple.

"Besides, there is so much more I want to tell you when we're out of here."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

[atzloverr]

On this snowy morning

Boyfriends!Yunhwa x fem!reader

Summary: Your boyfriends Yunho and Seonghwa love showing you just how much they adore you on these tender december mornings, the only thing that matters being the three of you under the warm, soft sheets.

Pairings: Seonghwa x reader, Yunho x reader, Seonghwa x Yunho

This fic includes: established relationships, somnophilia, cunnilingus, female reader, threesome, polygamy, nipple play, soft doms!Yunhwa, sub!reader, slight switchy!Yunho, unprotected sex, creampie, blowjob

MDNI under cut

Oh, how beautiful you looked, lying there, so graceful even while in deep slumber. The winter snow outside caused a light that made your skin glow beautifully. Your chest slowly rose and fell, your bare skin warm under the soft duvet.

Seonghwa let his hands roam your neck, tracing over the purple marks from a couple of nights before. He looked over to Yunho, who lay next to you, arm draped over your stomach, still snoring quietly. Seonghwa smirked slightly, an idea popping into his mind.

Seonghwa’s hand found Yunho’s shoulder, rubbing slow circles into them. He knew Yunho awoke easily, so he didn’t have to wait for long until said man’s eyes fluttered open to meet his.

Before Yunho could utter a word, or even let out a groan, Seonghwa hushed him quietly, putting a finger to his lips.

Truly, they both knew you were a deep sleeper, but Seonghwa didn’t want to risk losing the opportunity he saw in front of him.

Yunho gave a confused face, but soon caught on when Seonghwa’s soft lips met your neck in slow, careful kisses. He watched as Seonghwa traced his mouth to your collarbone, smirking as his kisses almost turned into sucks.

Yunho understood what the older wanted of him, and started slowly kissing your breasts, tongue teasing your nipple, which turned erect when he pulled the warm duvet to the side.

You let out a small moan in your sleep when Yunho’s mouth surrounded the hard bud, squirming ever so slightly at the pleasure as goosebumps coated your skin.

Seonghwa’s mouth had moved even further down. It was getting hard for him to contain his excitement. All he wanted in this moment was to hungrily eat you out until you came undone.

But no. No, he had to stay calm, he had to keep himself contained for you. While Yunho kept working his mouth on your tits and neck, Seonghwa finally positioned himself between your thighs. Right where he wanted to be.

He slowly lifted your legs to position them over his shoulders, before his mouth kissed your thighs.

“Yunho, she’s getting cold,” Seonghwa whispered. Without another word being spoken, Yunho pulled the duvet over you once again.

Your body couldn’t help but react when Seonghwa’s long tongue finally found your cunt, slowly licking up and down. “She’s wet for us,” Seonghwa whispered, just so Yunho could hear it. Yunho let out a small chuckle at Seonghwa’s words, his tongue teasingly circling your nipple.

Yunho could feel his cock twitch when your eyebrows furrowed as you moaned in pleasure, Seonghwa’s tongue circling your clit.

As his tongue’s movements quickened, your moans got louder and louder. “Darling, you’re going to—“

“Wake her? I know,” Seonghwa said lowly. Yunho lust laughed at his boyfriend, before sucking on your nipple more harshly, no longer following Seonghwa’s unsaid advice on being gentle.

Seonghwa pushing a finger inside of your cunt seemed to be the one thing pulling you out from your dreams. When you finally stirred awake, Yunho was quick to sense your confusion, not only by your facial expression, but also by the quick whimpers leaving your slightly opened mouth.

“Shh shhh baby, relax,” Yunho whispered. Oh how you loved his morning voice. His mouth soon met yours in a slow and affectionate kiss. You moaned lowly into his mouth when Seonghwa’s long finger slowly curled inside of you.

You lifted the duvet only to meet Seonghwa’s hungry eyes. You could see the smile on his face, even as he eagerly let his tongue work wonders.

Yunho uncovered your body, the duvet being thrown to the floor. “Just lay back,” he said, helping you lay back down on your back. “Let us take care of you.”

In the state you were in, still hazy from having just woken up, you just nodded, whining at the sensation of Yunho’s lips returning to one of your sensitive nipples.

At this point, Seonghwa’s fingers were deep inside of you, his tongue massaging your clit.

You felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge as your boyfriends continued pleasuring you. Yunho almost growled when your fingers gripped his hair in desperation at the overwhelming sensations.

“That’s it baby,” Yunho almost moaned. “Let go for us.”

And with those words, you finally came, your free hand gripping the bedsheets as your eyes rolled into the back of your head.

Your moans got drowned out by Yunho kissing you again, his tongue entering your mouth. He only kissed you like this when he was really desperate, which he probably was, judging by his hard length pressing against your leg.

You breathed heavily when Yunho’s mouth left yours, Seonghwa’s fingers still slowly pumping inside of you. His tongue lapped up your juices, making you sensitive from the slight overstimulation.

Yunho whined suddenly, his long fingers finding Seonghwa’s dark locks, pulling slightly. “My turn,” he said. Seonghwa laughed into your skin, before abducting his skillful mouth from you.

Before you knew it, the two had switched places, Seonghwa’s dark eyes meeting your half-opened ones.

“Hi baby,” he purred, fingers running through your scalp. “Hey,” you answered, voice still raspy from having just woken up. Seonghwa smirked slightly before you let out a loud moan when Yunho got to work between your legs.

Seonghwa just giggled when your legs started shaking from the feeling of another tongue on your still sensitive heat. “Yunho—“ you breathed out, but he didn’t waste any time to answer you in any way. He kept hungrily licking you, not being nearly as precise as Seonghwa had been, but equally as pleasurable.

“Hey, look at me,” Seonghwa said, your gaze finding his. He smiled at your expression, your eyes dripping with lust. “Like being woken up like this, hm?” he asked rhetorically. “Like having your boyfriend’s mouths on you first thing in the morning?”

You sighed in pleasure as Yunho’s tongue focused on your sensitive clit. His strong arms pushed your legs back, making you feel even more exposed in the open air. “You’re such a dirty girl, aren’t you?” Seonghwa whispered. “So aroused by us, even in your sleep~”

You could feel a second orgasm building inside of you, your eyes closing as you basked in the pleasure of Yunho’s hot tongue. “Baby,” Seonghwa sang warningly, making you look at him immediately. “Yes, keep your eyes on me.”

You felt more and more exposed for every second that passed, no longer having any covers over your naked form, your legs folded against your body as you were forced to keep eye contact with Seonghwa.

“That’s it. Give us one more,” Seonghwa said before his lips met your neck, sucking on it, making you moan even louder, as you were pulled to the edge for a second time.

But right when you felt the pleasure of an orgasm approaching, Yunho suddenly pulled away from your cunt, letting your legs fall to the bed.

“No, please Yunho—“

“Shh,” Seonghwa whispered into your ear, you saw the smirk on Yunho’s lips, and it didn’t help with your frustration. You tried to buck your hips upward in a desperate attempt to get some friction, still chasing that orgasm, but Yunho held your legs down with determination. “Looks like our puppy’s a little bit naughty today, Y/n” Seonghwa hummed, looking at Yunho.

You huffed, but your eyes widened again when you felt Yunho’s soft tip rub against your wetness, making you shudder every time it met your clit.

“C-can I?” Yunho asked, and you eagerly nodded, but soon realized the question wasn’t only meant for you. Seonghwa stayed quiet for a moment before chuckling to himself. “Make her come,” he finally said, and at that, Yunho eagerly positioned himself at your entrance.

His breathing was quick, and you hadn’t seen him this turned on for a long time. “Ready baby?” he asked. You laughed at his cute expression. “Yes, slowly,” you answered.

He lifted your hips to easily enter you, and it was clear to you that he worked really hard to do it slowly. You knew all he wanted was to ravage into you right away, but he could never do so without getting the go-ahead.

“This okay?” Yunho asked when he was almost fully inside of you. You nodded, feeling his large cock fill you up almost completely already. Seonghwa’s soothing touches on your shoulders and neck definitely helped you relax.

“Think you can take another cock too, baby?” Seonghwa asked into your ear. You eagerly nodded as Yunho pushed the last inch of himself into you. You felt so full right now, but couldn’t bask in the feeling for long, until Seonghwa positioned his hard cock by your mouth.

“Can I move?” Yunho moaned. He had already subconsciously started rocking his hips slightly, but you nodded eagerly, desperate for the orgasm that had been taken away from you.

You opened your mouth, looking up at Seonghwa with pleading eyes, and when he finally entered your mouth, you let your tongue work on his tip, circling it as you bobbed your head back and forth.

Your ears were pleasantly filled with the sounds of your boyfriend’s beautiful moans, as their rhythms picked up for every second that passes.

“Good girl, there you go,” Seonghwa moaned. You could tell the two were close to coming not long after you had started, and when Yunho’s fingers met your clit as he fucked into you, you could feel another orgasm building for you too.

Yunho couldn’t contain himself when you tightened around him, so he soon burst inside of you, letting his warm cum fill you up. Right when you felt him finish, you did the same, finally getting that orgasm you had been craving.

Seonghwa kept fucking into your mouth, his deep moans quickening as you moaned around his cock. “That’s it baby,” he praised, before finally exploding into your mouth. You eagerly swallowed every drop of his juices, seeing the blissful look in his eyes as you let the liquids run down your throat.

You let your tongue lick up the length of Seonghwa’s cock as he pulled out of your mouth. “Such a good girl,” Seonghwa breathed heavily in sync with both you and Yunho.

Basking in the afterglow, you failed to notice how Seonghwa and Yunho quickly moved around to change their position, and before you knew it, Seonghwa was between your limp legs once again.

“Hwa, I—“ you started, but was interrupted by a high-pitched moan when his tongue entered your hole, slurping up Yunho’s cum, not letting a drop go to waste.

Yunho lifted you to position you in front of him, his arms holding you close to his chest. “Sensitive baby?” he teased into your ear, sensing shivers down your spine. Seonghwa slowly cleaned you up while Yunho kept whispering sweet nothings into your ears, occasionally giving your neck a little bite or suck.

You met Seonghwa’s eyes when he pulled away from you, finally letting you relax completely.

“You like having your boyfriends fuck you first thing in the morning?” Seonghwa hummed, making you hide your face in embarrassment. “Oh no baby, don’t be shy~” Yunho purred from behind you. “We love it too.”

Seonghwa seemed to be able to sense the feeling of the chilly morning air against your skin, as he threw the duvet over your form again. “Thank you,” you hummed as Yunho and Seonghwa lay down on either side of you.

“You took us so well baby,” Yunho smiled into your neck, still nuzzling into your warmth. Seonghwa had gotten a few wipes from the bedside table, using them to wipe you carefully.

“Aw, still a little wet baby?” Seonghwa cooed, wiping your thighs. You whined in shame as you met Seonghwa’s teasing gaze. “Don’t worry,” he set the wipes on the bedside table again. “We have all day to make you feel good.”

Giving you one last kiss on your slightly swollen lips, Seonghwa lay down beside you, letting his hand rest on your hip. You were too tired to fight his teasing remarks, and you definitely weren’t going to argue about the “we have all day”-deal.

You let yourself fall into a deep slimber once again when Yunho ran his long fingers through your slightly messy hair, the warmth building back up under the soft sheets.

”Love you,” you let out quietly, almost inaudibly. “We love you too baby,” Yunho answered, before the three of you fell asleep once again, knowing the only thing on the agenda today being time spent with each other.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed!!! It’s been a while since i posted, and for that I apologize :( I AM HOWEVER almost done with the next chapter of selfish desire!!! Asks are always open for requests or any other thing you guys have on your minds! Love you all!!!

[l13]

The loud thumping wakes you up, and you blink tiredly as the sound persists. You look at your ceiling for a second before you realize someone is knocking at your door. You groan, bringing your duvet over your ear as you snuggle in again.

“Leave me alone,” you mumble against your pillow as the knocking becomes more forceful.

Suddenly there’s silence, and when you finally think that whoever is bothering you has left, the knocking starts again.

You groan, cursing under your breath as you stand up, grabbing your gun from your vanity. You walk to your front door, opening it angrily.

“What-” your outburst dies down at your lips when you lock eyes with the last person you’d expected to see standing outside your apartment, but one you’d longed for, for years.

Your first instinct is to panic, there’s no way you were conscious. The person standing at your door was supposed to be dead.

So you raise your gun up, hand trembling, “This isn’t real.” you choke out, and Vander raises his hands slowly, opening his mouth to speak but you cut him off, “You’re not real, you’re not here.” There are tears dripping down your cheeks, the gun threatening to fall from your hand with how much you were shaking “Y-you’re dead, this can’t-” you clutch at your chest, heaving, and Vander’s hands grab at your shoulders when your knees buckle,

“My love,” The gun slips from your shaky grip and falls to the floor the moment the words leave his mouth. His voice, god fuck, his voice. You’ve dreamed of it, you’re certain you’ve heard it, back when the grief first clawed at your heart, when the illusions spilled into reality to try to mend what was broken.

But this sounded too real, and you gasped when his hand cupped your cheek, thumb wiping the tears that wouldn’t stop falling. “Darling, my darling girl. It’s me,” the sweet but rough sound of his voice sent shivers down your back, and you wanted to drown in it, you wanted to hear it again and again and again until you couldn’t anymore. You blinked rapidly, tears blurring your vision as your eyes danced across his features, the five bright white dots across his forehead would have confused you, if you weren’t on the verge of a panic attack.

You didn’t realize you’d raised your hand to cover his, until you felt the warmth of his hand under your skin. “S-stop, this isn’t real, this isn’t real, this isn’t real,” you squeezed your eyes shut, whispering frantically in order to wake up from this sickly realistic dream, to end this before you woke up and missed his touch again. And yet you craved more, desperately running your hands down his sides, back up to his chest, his shoulders, his back.

God, he felt real, and he was so warm, not like the previous dreams you’ve had when he was always cold, just a silhouette of the man you loved. He even smelled like your Vander. A sob broke through you, and you threw your hands around his neck, crying against his chest. Even if this wasn’t real, you’d still take advantage of this opportunity to feel close to him one last time.

You tried not to cry harder when his arms immediately circled around your torso, hugging you tight to him as you both slipped down to the floor, “Shh sh, love it’s me. Please, look at me,”

“If I do then I’ll wake up and you’ll be gone.” you muttered against his chest, nuzzling closer to him, “Let me have this, just for a moment.”

“You have me, forever.” His rough gravelly voice vibrated against your chest as he spoke, his breath hitting your ear as he nuzzled against your hair, his hands running up and down your back, spreading warmth everywhere.

Too real, too real, too real.

“I miss you so much. I-I can’t-” you take a shuddering breath in, “I can’t live without you. I need you back, please. Please, I’ll do anything.”

“My love, my heart. You beautiful, stunning creature. Look at me, I beg you.”

You could feel him leaning away just so he could cup your jaw, lifting your head up softly, so so softly.

Please.

“Look at me.” he mutters, the softness of his request filled with desperation. You slowly open your eyes, blinking away your tears, gaze immediately locking with his.

Your lips part as you take him in. The color of his eyes was much greyer than you remembered. You raised your hand to follow each feature, each wrinkle of his. After a moment, You brought your other hand up, as well, cupping both his cheeks in your hands, feeling his stubble prickle at your palms. “Vander… This- this can’t be real.” you move to pull away but he cups both your hands, keeping you in place, leaning his forehead against yours, “It can, it is. I’m here honey. I’m here.”

You can’t help but stare at his lips, watching them move as he speaks, your mind trying to make sense of what you’re seeing, hearing, feeling.

Please.

You can’t let yourself get too hopeful because this isn’t possible, and he seems to get it too, so he starts explaining.

He tells you everything. How he was on the verge of death, how a man, Singed, found him, turned him into something vile, but the mutation kept him alive, even if he wasn’t entirely himself. He tells you about how all he felt was pain, but you and the kids were the only thing in his mind the whole time, trying to block away everything else. Tells you about Powder, Vi, and Isha, how they found him, brought him somewhere, a colony of some sort. A man, the Herald, helped him, and “..honest to God he kind of scares me, but it-it didn’t matter then, and it doesn’t matter now because I’m here. I’m here with you.”

Please.

You don’t realize you’ve lost track of time until you’re looking at yourself. You blink quickly, eyebrows furrowing, but then you realize you’re looking at yourself in the mirror. Vander is still holding you tightly, and the side of your face is pressed against his chest, listening to his heartbeat as he whispers sweet nothings against the crown of your head. You stay there, listening to his voice and his heart for what feels like forever.

He grabs your shoulders, pulling you away from him just enough for him to look at you in the eyes, “Are you okay?” he asks, but his voice is muffled, sounding too far away. You blink slowly up at him and he frowns sadly.

“I missed you so much. Even in death I missed you, but I wasn’t selfish enough to wish I could see you again because that would mean you’d-” he cuts himself off, the strands of his hair moving as he shakes his head, eyes clenched shut as if to rid himself of that painful thought. “I-I’m here. I’m real. Darling, I’m alive, and I need you to know this.”

His eyes are pained as he stares down at you, once again cupping your jaw, thumb caressing your cheekbone “Say something.”

“I love you.”

His face immediately crumbles, eyebrows squeezing together as his tears start falling, and he tucks his head against the place between your neck and shoulder, crying as he squeezes you impossible tighter, “I love you.” he chokes out, and you feel him pepper soft kisses over your skin, the brokenness of his voice bringing fresh tears to your eyes as well.

You don’t know how long you stay tangled together like this, just holding each other, but Vander leans back suddenly, looking at you with so much adoration that it makes you want to scream. “Hi,” he mumbles, petting your hair softly, his other hand drawing circles on your back.

You start pressing soft kisses all over his face, not being able to contain your affection, and he closes his eyes, laughing giddily, the deep sound traveling over your skin, spreading warmth everywhere. God, you’ve missed this, missed him. “Hi.” you mutter, pressing one last kiss at the corner of his mouth.

His puffy eyes glance down at your lips, “Can I-”

“Please.”

He kisses you.

2024 © l13 | Do not steal, copy, edit, translate or re-post any of my works.

[sturnswiftie]

!crybaby reader just can't sleep... and it's driving !dealer chris insane.

chris is exhausted. after a long night of his phone buzzing nonstop with calls, pickups, and drop-offs, he’s ready to just fucking sleep. but the girl next to him—his girl—has other plans.

as if to prove his point, you huff dramatically, flopping onto your side for what has to be the tenth time in the last five minutes. then onto your back. then onto your stomach. then back onto your side again, your warm body nudging against his like a restless little kitten. one thing about you is that even if you don’t outright say something is bothering you, you’re going to make it known somehow.

chris cracks an eye open, barely illuminated by the soft blue glow of the alarm clock by his bed. “the hell are you doin’?” he grumbles, voice rough with sleep, low and grumbly.

“i can’t sleep,” you whine in response, dragging out the last word like a complaint. the noise makes him exhale heavily through his nose, rubbing a hand over his face.

“so y’just gonna toss and turn all night?”

he stares at you incredulously when you turn to face him fully, a pout resting on your pretty lips. even in the dark, he can feel the heat of your gaze, the way you bat those big, pitiful eyes at him like it’s his responsibility to fix this. and because you are who you are—because you’re his—chris can’t help but suppose that it is.

the brunette exhales then, long and slow, before rolling onto his side and gripping your waist. “c’mere.”

you barely have time to react before he’s pulling you against him, sliding a thigh between your own and pressing a slow, lazy kiss to the side of your neck. you squirm underneath him at the warmth of his breath, another whimper slipping past your lips that goes straight to your boyfriend’s hardening cock.

“chris...” you start, confusion lacing your tone and expression, but then he’s sliding a hand under the hem of your shirt, long fingers dragging over the softness of your skin.

“shh,” he murmurs back in response, sharp white teeth glinting in the soft light filtering his room as he nips lightly at your jaw. “y’wanna sleep or not?”

you do. so you go quiet as a shiver runs down your spine, hands clutching at his arm as he tilts your chin up, brushing his lips over yours in a teasing, featherlight kiss that has you chasing after him for more, only to be met with a smirk.

“relax,” he whispers, those teasing fingers now dipping lower than before, finding exactly what he’s looking for the moment he brushes over your puffy clit, and a soft gasp leaves your perfect mouth. “i got you, baby.”

it doesn’t take long before your body is melting into his touch, the tension slipping from your limbs as pleasure overpowers frustration, replacing your restless pouts with soft, needy whimpers. he’s careful to take his time, to draw it out, making sure you feel every flick of his wrist, every press of his rough palm into your clit while your hips shift down in search of more from the long strokes his fingers offer you. usually he’d chastise you for being so greedy, but he’s too surprised by the quickness in which your orgasm arrives, your grip on his wrist tightening as you gasp against his mouth, falling apart in his hands with your back arching from the mattress.

it’s not until you’re whimpering uncomfortably from his long digits still being inside you that he finally retracts, blue eyes taking in his own glistening fingers before he’s popping them into his mouth, eyes closing briefly with a soft grunt as he cleans up your arousal with great care. the sight of him doing so never fails to make your cheeks warm with embarrassment, wondering if you really taste that good or if he’s so blinded by how much he loves you.

with a soft, tired smirk, chris presses one last slow kiss to your temple as you curl into him, your breathing finally slowing, deep and even.

“better?” he murmurs, already knowing the answer.

but he still listens to the sleepy little hum of agreement you offer in return, your body limp and satisfied against his as he pulls the covers higher over both of you, letting his own eyes drift shut once and for all.

“good girl,” he mutters, and within seconds, he’s asleep to the sound and feel of your gentle breaths against his neck and the satisfying knowledge that his girl is taken care of.

©sturnswiftie

[plethorawrites]

I know a lot of people HC that Damian Wayne would be a terrible dad because of how he was raised and his own trauma keeps him emotionally detached, but imagine if his upbringing did the exact opposite? (1.2k)

He'd be terrified the moment he finds out his wife is pregnant, utterly unable to comprehend it. He wants to be excited, like everyone else in his family is about it, but can't bring himself to get over the fear. He's worried he won't love it or feel attached to it like she already is. Hell, he keeps calling it and IT.

That fear only grows and grows, getting infinitely worse as she's closer to having the baby. He doesn't feel worthy of being a parent, he's got too much blood on his hands to know how to be gentle or caring, especially not to someone as small as a baby. His wife alone had to break through a dozen of his walls before he fully trusted her enough to be vulnerable with her. But then, the baby is born. He's a dad. His wife is alright, which is his first concern, the next being making sure the baby is too.

She is.

She's a she.

He has a little girl and it's like time stops, staring at her little face, her dark skin, her full head of hair, her chubby cheeks. That fear in his chest both grows and disappears all at once. He knows then and there that his worries about not loving her were absolutely ridiculous. He's never let the world hurt her. But the apprehension about being good enough still persists.

He refuses to hold her, claiming his wife should be the first since she did all the work. Which she did. Then, he still refuses. He doesn't want to cradle her when he keeps thinking of all the blood his hands have spilled. His wife can tell and deep down it worries her too, but she doesn't say anything because she knew it would take a while for him to get used to being a dad. His family comes to see the baby a few days after they leave the hospital, they all hold her, but Damian keeps his arms crossed.

He's still terrified from afar that one of his brothers will drop her, though.

One night, after she got to bed, he hears her crying. His wife is exhausted, rightfully so, so he gets up. She's eaten recently so he has no idea why the baby is crying, just that she is. He shushes her while she lays in her crib but she's a few weeks old, so of course she has no idea what that means.

Finally, he reaches down, scooping her up into his arms, just to try to keep her quiet so his wife can sleep. "Shh. Please let your mother sleep," he whispers, his eyes softening as she immediately stops crying.

He puts her back down, the anxiety having already flooded him just by having her in his arms, but the second she's back in her crib, she's crying again. He's forced to pick her back up and the crying turns to soft cooing, staring up at him with wide eyes. He sighs, sitting in the chair his wife likes to rock her to sleep in, holding her close in her blanket. Which wasn't really a blanket at all, just his old cape that she had somehow taken to finding comfort in.

She reaches out, with that iron vice of a grip all babies seem to have, grabbing his finger with her hand. "Such a strong grip for such a small person," he whispers to himself or perhaps to her. "I love you, you know? More than anything. I just...feel like you deserve a better father than me."

She's still staring, silently, with absolutely no recognition of his words and his grips around her tightens as he leans his head back in the chair, falling asleep until morning when his wife finds him in the nursery with her still in his arms. He won't pretend he didn't feel a little bit of comfort holding her. But it was still frightening to him. Even if his wife assured him every other day that he was doing fine and she knew he could be a good dad.

He takes to being the one to soothe her at night so his wife can sleep, both because he's used to staying up at night for work and because he's somehow a lot better at getting her to calm down. He begins calling her 'beautiful' or 'darling' in Arabic, which always elicits a small smile. And he knows without a single doubt that he'd never let the darkness he's seen touch her.

The older she grows the better he gets at it. She's less fragile, he's more confident that he does deserve her. He can raise her better than he was raised. And he does. He can recognize each of her cries, knows what she needs, sometimes before she does. He presses a kiss to her head every night before she goes to bed and even when she starts sleeping through the night he'll still sit in her nursery for a while because he knows he'll never see her this small again.

She turns one and his whole family is there, spoiling her with extravagant gifts, even though he knows her favorite thing in the whole world is the blanket she sleeps with, made from his old cape. She's old to stand and starts babbling, not quite forming words, but it's enough that he knows what she wants when she points in a vague direction and starts getting frustrated about wanting something. He sits on the floor, holding her little hands while she stands, learning to take her first steps and his wife grimaces, worried the baby will fall.

She does.

Damian catches her.

She giggles and he can't help but grin with pride. "That's my girl. Already learning to walk a few months early." She's smart, he knows it. He doesn't boast to anyone aside from his wife or family about it, but secretly judges all the other kids in the group his wife takes her too. They weren't quite as advanced as his daughter.

After all, she responds to some words in Arabic. Her nicknames, mostly. Although she'll turn her head when he says 'look' or tells her 'good job' for finishing her mashed veggies. How many other babies did they know who were bilingual before two? Not many.

After fourteen months or so, her eyes change from blue to green and he finds himself even more transfixed with her wide eyes that track everything he does when he wakes up before his wife to make them all breakfast. He scolds her lightly when she throws the teething ring she loves at him, telling her "That's rude." Before handing it back to her and making her some steamed vegetables, since he always refused to give her store bought baby food.

It wasn't good enough for his child.

Around the time her babbling turns to poorly formed words, she starts calling him Babba and realizing how it makes him smile utters it over and over when she wants to be picked up.

She goes: "Babbababbababba." Like it's all one very long ramble until he lifts her out of her high chair and lets her rest on his hip asking her what she wants. "Stuffed animal?" He questions, pointing at her collection of them. She just repeats. "Babba." again, laying her head against him.

He realizes she just wants to be held and he gladly holds her for as long as she wants.

[hitomisuzuya]

yandere!hybrid scaramouche x fem!reader. smut. porn with a little plot. breeding kink. cunnilingus. masturbation. cream pie. degradation. scara in heat. aggressive/possessive behavior.

i just wanted to write about scara as a hybrid for a bit. don't mind this high nonsense. it turned out way long, oml, i'm sorry😭

you could never have cats growing up. so when the opportunity to take one in presented itself, you naturally took it. scaramouche was very weak, and very injured when you found him laying underneath a cardboard box in an alley.

you couldn't bear to leave him out in the cold, and freezing rain. scaramouche huddled further into the cardboard box, hissing when you crouched down to reach for him. he fought you the whole time, hissing, scratching and biting until you finally managed to wrestle him into your arms, wrapping your jacket around him and cradling him to your chest so he could get warm.

the whole time you were cooing to him soothingly. "shh, kitty, it's okay. we will get you inside, and fed. i promise. and get you feeling better." scaramouche was incredibly startled finding out your voice was soothing.

a few instances on the way home, he thought he almost fell asleep listening to the sound of your heartbeat. it made him focus a little less on the pain in his very injured leg, and pain from being weak and starving. fuck it, it would be an opportunity to rest indoors out of the cold, and get something to eat before he bailed on you the next day.

and he was going to find and fuck up that alley cat he got into a fight with. maybe he would come back to your house, yowling for food before he fled entirely.

scaramouche sure didn't know what to think about you. what the fuck was up with you? any normal person would've just dropped and abandoned him after he hissed and clawed at them, but not you. you took it all with a calm, patient smile. he decided he would fiercely test that patience.

humans weren't as good as they liked to think, in his humble opinion.

scaramouche watched you with narrow eyes as you flitted about the kitchen, looking in cabinets to see what you had for him to eat. "i'm afraid you'll have to forgive me kitty, i still have to go the grocery store this week. if you don't like anything i have, i'll go back out to the store, and see if i can't find you something."

so test you he did. he turned his nose up at tuna, some cubed chicken breasts with gravy on them (even it smelled super good, he thought), some roast beef.

he thought, this is it! he was going to turn out to be right. you would undoubtedly get frustrated and put him back out on the street. or so he thought.

nope, you just made him a soft little nest on the couch with some blankets and pillows. turned on the tv for him, and told him you would be back with some other stuff. that you would find what he wanted to eat, it wasn't a problem.

you even looked happy to be taking care of him. and why the hell were you starting to smell really good every time you walked by him. he waited, curled up warm in your little hand made nest, glancing away from the tv at the door every now and then.

back you came, your scent more magnified than before to him. you brought fish, varieties of tuna, some cat treats and cat nip. you'd even stopped by the deli and picked up different things. for him. you didn't bring home any dinner for yourself.

scaramouche supposed he would feel like an asshole if he refused all of it. you'd gone back out in the freezing rain and wind to get food for him, getting nothing for yourself. he decided he was only going to be half the trouble, accepting some chicken and gravy that tasted better than he anticipated.

after that, you treated his injured leg and read to him until he fell asleep. he opened his eyes the next morning to discover you hadn't slept until he did.

scaramouche was incredibly weak from his injury. so much so that he couldn't transform into his more human form to make recovery easier. and if he had it his way, you would never know about it. a few days and he would be gone.

or so he told himself. before he knew it, one day turned into two. two days turned into a week. he got stronger everyday. oh how you smiled and clapped when he stood up without limping. your smile was beautiful, he admitted.

you'd put up with him all this time. the healing scratches and bite marks on your arms and hands proved that. what was in it for you? nothing. everything you did was for him. he couldn't find one hint of an ulterior motive. you even seemed to purely enjoy his company.

scaramouche was really starting to hate whenever you left the house, especially when you couldn't take him with you. why did you need to leave? he knew you needed to go out for food and things, but it would be so much better if you took him with you. you seemed way too nice. it probably made you really naive.

you were naive enough not to realize he was actually a hybrid with a very human form, and a name. A name you were talking about him needing eventually. a very human form with very human needs. you were smelling better and better every day. he almost couldn't stand it sometimes. it was intoxicating.

he was starting to jump on your bed with you at night to sleep, moving a little closer to you every night. one morning, you found him curled up asleep on your chest, purring softly. he avoided you for hours after that happened, darting off hissing in embarrassment.

that wasn't the worst thing for him. a few mornings later, he'd unknowingly shifted in the middle of the night into his human form, waking up very naked with a very hard cock. his arms wrapped around you, tucking you possessively against him.

to your credit (and his amazement), you didn't scream or send him away. he supposed he should've expected that. you didn't even throw him out when he scratched up your curtains, tore a hole in one of the couch pillows, and knocked what he thought looked the most valuable vase off the table, completely shattering it.

"scaramouche," he grumbled, his ears flicking as he looked away in embarrassment. "scaramouche is what you can call me," he could barely look at you that day. he spent most of his time in his cat form, hiding under the bed, or lingering from a distance, watching you suspicious eyes. undoubtedly your true nature would come out. a strange boy had woken up next to you, naked and hard from good you smelled. how warm you felt.

you, with your soft hair that looks oh so pullable. you, with your pretty lips and fragile body he was pretty sure he could break in half. now that he thought about it, you seeing his human form was really the best thing. now he could leave the house with you, and protect you from all the horrible things that would jump out from around every corner and snatch you away.

snatch you away from him. he couldn't have that, no matter what. especially not when you accepted him so completely.

as much as scaramouche tried to swallow these feelings, he was abruptly forced to accept them one day. he walked into your room while you were changing. he saw every bare dip and curve of your breakable body, caught sight of your breasts reflected in the mirror. something snapped in him after that.

of course, he hid away from you after that. only coming out to kick up an angry fuss about you running an errand. he snapped at you when you asked if he wanted to come with you, refusing out of pride and embarrassment for walking in on you earlier.

he was forced to accept two things that day. he was going into heat. and he was consumed with thoughts of breeding you. breeding you so fucking full that there would be no question who you belonged to.

what the fuck had you done to him?

while you were gone, he spent that time writhing on your bed, fisting his cock to thoughts of impaling you on it. making you cry and claw at his back to cum inside you. even better for him that you were starting to become twice as shy around him, looking at him with a blush on your cheeks.

he scented all your clothes, rubbing on them and rolling around on them in his cat form. he rolled around on your sheets and pillows. and as for you, he scented you while you slept. this is what was best. if you smelled like him, no one would so much as dare to take you away from him.

you are his, damn it.

when scaramouche is in heat, he gets twice as possessive. he was incredibly suspicious and weary of anyone that approached or even looked at you, especially another male. if he thought there were too many people around, he insisted on taking different ways home to avoid them. he can and will snap at people if he felt they got too close.

especially when you let him get handsy with you in a moment of weakness one night. he pinned underneath him on the couch, grinding his straining cock between your legs while he pawed at your clothes. his teeth nipping at your lips and skin in between angry and frustrated kisses. you just smelled so fucking good he couldn't control himself. you moaned and mewled so sweetly underneath him.

it did happen one day. he didn't want you to go into the cafe to get your hot chocolate. he insisted on doing it for you, but in the end relented and let you go inside. everything was going smoothly until the barista asked you for your number. you didn't need someone's phone number to give them a cup of hot chocolate. this asshole didn't need your number.

you already had scaramouche. was he blind? that was what went through his head. he wanted to tear the barista's head off. he bet it would pop off so easy, like a bottle cap under too much pressure. if it wasn't for your voice pleading with him to calm down, he would've gotten physical with the barista.

anybody would've gotten fed up and exhausted by now. especially since he raised a further argument when you both were banned from ever coming back. he bartered down for you to be allowed back but not him, since you didn't do anything wrong. that you really liked the whipped cream on their hot chocolate.

scaramouche is the type of hybrid that you have to isolate with when he is in heat. that much was obvious. and that was what he needed the most right now. to be with you, and hide you away from the world, making sure nothing and nobody touched you while he was in heat.

he knew you were strong, but that's exactly why you needed him to protect you.

after the incident at the cafe, scaramouche only completely calmed down when he was fucking his tongue into your cunt. "such a doting, delicate little thing, aren't you," he hissed, looking up at you from between your thighs. "it's going to be a pleasure breeding you," your fingers tightened in his hair, tugging on his ears in an intoxicating way as you pushed his mouth down onto your pussy.

his tongue swirled around your clit, groaning as you grinded on his mouth. he didn't know what was sweeter. the way you tasted or the way you moaned as he latched his lips around your clit.

how good it felt to finally sink his claw into his delicate little mate. you put up with him. cared for him. doted on and indulged him. you'd made him fall so in love, so much so that it was too late by the time he noticed.

now he was going to take care of you in the way you deserved.

and in the dizzying pleasure of cumming on his tongue, you didn't quite know what happened. but what you did know is that you were in love with him to. you didn't expect this cat you found injured to be the force of literal nature that was scaramouche. complete with cute ears. before you knew it, he'd pulled you right in, and you were happy to let him do it, in all the comforting weight of his dominance.

"i want to hear you scream it, slut," scaramouche moaned, his hands tightening on your hips possessively. he had the perfect view of his cock pumping in and out of your pussy from behind. your walls squeezed around his cock hearing him mock your moans as he bottomed out into your sweet spot over and over again. "babble about how badly you want to be bred."

your sopping cunt clutched tight and warm like a glove, your walls gummy and perfect. his eyes rolled into the back of his head how good you felt squeezing his cock.

"please, breed me. you feel so good inside me," you cried out, drool soaking the pillow under your cheek. he chuckled shakily behind you, you were always so eager to please him. even the way you shook, creaming hard on his cock was an intoxicating sight to behold.

a truly delicate gift for him to break.

the harder he made you cum, the more you begged him to fuck you full of cum. "cock drunk whore," scaramouche moaned, his thrusts turning sloppy as his cock pulsed cum inside of you. he doubted you could hear his soft whimpers of bliss over your own, which were much louder.

[sim0nril3y]

Nightmares

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Scenario: After finally moving in with Simon you are still dealing with the aftermath of having your flat broken into. Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), mention of nightmares, anxiety, angst truama from previous event, comfort, canon-typical swearing.

A sudden shift came from beside Simon that startled him from his sleep, glancing in you direction you were sat upright. Leaning over he flicked on the lamp and then rubbed your back in a soothing way. “Y’okay?” His voice was nothing but a deep grog.

Ever since you’d moved in together there had been nights that you would be jolted away from a bad dream. You’d taken the time to explain to him that sometimes your usually sweet dreams had been plagued with nightmares of your old flat and even this new home together been broken into. There was some obvious trauma there, residual pain from having someone evading your private space.

“Mm, I’m okay.” You replied back, your voice equally as tired. “I’m just gonna make a warm milk or something.” You muttered, climbing from the sheets. “Go back to sleep.”

Simon watched as you trudged from the room with a frown present on his lips, watching you close the door soft and he faltered back onto the pillows. He hated the thought that you were so effected by this. Of course, his own brain was plagued with his own deeply traumatic moments that had filled in his life, but to think that you were suffering the same hurt him so deeply. He needed to fix this… if it could be fixed.

After a few moments Simon wandered downstairs himself to find you sat at the kitchen table, hands cupped around a warm mug of milk. “Babe.” He muttered seeing the tears present on your cheeks. “Bloody hell.” Muttering under his breath as he wrapped his arms around you, tugging you into the warmth of his chest. “Deep breaths now. C’mon.” He pressed a kiss to your hairline. “Shh... S’alright…”

The two of you stood in the sanctity of your kitchen, wrapped in one another’s arms whilst Simon muttered sweet sentiments to you. “Talk to me.” He requested, rubbing between your shoulder blades soothingly as he took a seat beside you. “It’s stupid.” You muttered out in a voice that you filled with emotion, drying your eyes with the back of your hand whilst you sniffled. “I kept having these stupid nightmares and I wasn’t even in the damn flat when it was broken into-”

Simon couldn't allow this attack on yourself. “Just stop for a second.” He requested. “Even if you weren’t inside it, doesn’t mean your personal space wasn’t violated, babe.” Simon said, shaking his head then. “You’re allowed to feel sad about that. You’re allowed to feel scared.” He said then. “I was fuckin’ scared.” The admission seemed to surprise you both. “When you called me that night, when I heard your voice... when I got there and saw the police… fuck, I was… fuckin’ terrified.”

You sniffled. “Really?” “Really.” His voice was practically stoic, squeezing your shoulder. “S’why I got this place set up like the Tower of London, babe.” A little sad laugh escaped your lips. “Locks on every door, cameras set up, alarms galore…” Listing all the reasons made you feel just that bit safer. “Then if anyone by some fluke was able to get through that then they’d have to get through me too…”

There was no one you trusted more to have your back than Simon. He was a unit. He was an impressive force, you felt it when he held you, when he lifted you, even when he made love to you... God, you could almost feel sorry for anyone who came up against him in combat.

Sniffling you asked. “What if you’re not here?” There were going to be times, many times when Simon would have to leave you alone, leave you to fend yourself… the thought of that seemed to bring him a great deal of discomfort, almost a sense of terror. Clearing his throat and shaking his head. “Mm, then how about we look into getting you into a self-defence class, eh?” It was a suggestion and actually it was a pretty good one, Simon watched the way your eyes seemed to fill with almost hope. “We can get you taught some things to you'll be able to protect yourself…”

A little nod was you reply as you asked in a small voice. “Yeah, can we do that?” “Course we can, babe.” Simon wrapped you into his arms again then, tugging you into his lap. “It’s gonna be alright… I promise.” He mentioned in a warm tone.

Masterlist | Ask | 27-01-2025

[prael]

Integrity

Newjeans Hanni x male reader smut

Happy Hanni Day!

Masterlist word count: 6,048 Kofi(donations/commissions)

It's a really long way to travel, and doubly so when you get fuck all from it. It's not like you were after anything ground-breaking—it's just a fashion show, after all.

It's about as close as you get to 'phoning it in' as a journalist. A few copy-and-paste interviews to accompany some snapshots of the season's latest designs. A couple hundred words, cut and run. Who wore what dress and who wore it the tightest. You could probably type most of it out on the plane without ever leaving your seat, and the public will still eat it up.

Somewhere over Austria, you mulled over that very fact.

Four days later, somewhere over Hungary, you're scrambling to do exactly that.

The whole thing is going fine. Fine, right up until it isn't. Maybe it's the sound of your fingers on the keys or the pocket of air that rocked the plane in that familiar gut-wrenching way, but her eyes are opening slowly. She's mouthing something, her fingers reaching around behind her, under the thin layer of blankets she is enveloped in.

"Are we there yet?" she murmurs, fishing her phone out of her blanket, sleepiness and all.

"Not even close," you say as flatly as you can, returning to a few words you'd been rolling over in your head for the better part of thirty minutes.

"What are you writing about?" She asks from down on her fully reclined seat that's moonlighting as a bed.

"You," you say with a small laugh, not looking away from your laptop.

"What about me?" Hanni's phone lights up, cutting through the darkness and finally making her face visible. The cabin is in full black-out since it's the middle of the night, and the dividers in first-class keep the two of you isolated.

"Your clothes, mostly. Generic fashion show stuff. Doesn't really matter. I put the names Gucci and Hanni Pham in an article and it sells itself. Instant clicks. S'like... two baits for one fish."

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

"Probably is," you reply, knowing full well that there's little to be proud of in here. It's all surface level after all, since adding the things you know now might raise a few eyebrows. All the investigative journalism you've done over the past few days isn't exactly something you can write about. Though you can't deny it, an article about the beauty mark right below her waistline would probably send the masses into a frenzy.

You can hear her tapping on her screen a few more times, and with the silence in the first-class cabin at night, you find yourself focusing on those sounds more than your writing. Tap. Tap. Tap. Pause. Sigh. Tap. Tap.

"What is it?"

"Can't sleep," comes her whispered reply as she pushes herself up with that strange grunt you often hear her make, propping her pillow against the bulkhead and stretching out.

"Drugs not working?"

She shakes her head. "Not doing much."

"If my typing is too loud I can stop—"

"No, you focus. I'll find something to keep myself distracted." She locks her phone again and disappears into the darkness again, her soft breathing almost inaudible. Minutes go by. You manage a full two paragraphs before hearing her moving in the darkness again.

"Hanni?"

"Shh."

The slow shifting goes on for another few seconds, and in the darkness, you can make out the movement of her blanket as she slides off the chair down to your feet. What hits you next is her fingers reaching into your waistband.

"Hann—"

"Quiet," she whispers back. You quickly pick up the laptop from resting on your lap before her attempts to undress you can send it crashing to the floor. You're quick to place it on her seat and close its cover, out of her reach just in time before she slides your pants down.

She doesn't say anything, just lets you lay there in silence as her fingers guide you into her mouth. It is almost unnerving how used to it you have become in such a short time—how easy it has become for you, a supposed professional, to mix business and pleasure to this degree.

Hanni goes on unperturbed, wetting you between plump lips that trail up and down your length.

There is nothing you can do at this point but give in and just throw your head back. You grow harder under her touch and her tongue and judging by the way she grows more aggressive with her movements, Hanni is starting to enjoy herself as well. You can't quite make out her face, but you already know the look she's wearing. Can practically see it in your mind's eye; the look of wide-eyed desire as she takes you further in, lips rounding out over teeth as she welcomes every inch you give her until her cheeks cave in from sucking.

It's fucking burned into your brain. You've seen it so much, among so many other filthy expressions, you aren't sure if you could ever forget it.

Your hand reaches down blindly in the darkness until it finds the back of her head. The mere fact that the both of you are sitting on this plane hundreds of miles above the ground is instantly forgotten, fading out from consciousness and sense as she holds on, massaging your balls with one hand.

You let yourself lay there like this, fingers tangled in her hair, cock buried in her mouth. The thought of pulling her up and reciprocating is never far from your mind, but her grip on your hips is certain. This is all her right now. She's in charge.

She does not lack the pace to prove it.

Her head bobs up and down in the dark, tongue guiding you further in with every motion, lips slipping further down along your shaft, saliva pooling at your base. Her humming is growing—you can't hear it, but you can feel it. It resonates all the way through you, down the aching hardness she keeps stroking with her tongue, and even further to fuel that tension building in your lower stomach.

"Holy fuck," you curse under your breath, voice catching in your throat, lost in the motion of the plane's droning vibrations and her eager motions.

She pops you from her mouth, stroking your cock with a twist of a wrist and something she is doing with her tongue at the tip. As your eyes begin to adjust, you can see that spit has mixed with precum, dribbling down and over the back of her knuckles. It's lewd and over the top and everything that Hanni Pham, an innocent idol, pretends not to be.

"What? You want me to stop?"

"Fuck no," you whisper back, heart pumping in your ears. The feeling of her strokes, suddenly more controlled and tense without the benefit of her mouth is as jarring as it is fleeting.

"Didn't think so." With that, she brings her head back down to take you in her mouth again, hot breaths hitting the spit-slick surface of your dick. It's dirty and clumsy, messy and wet, and each time she swallows you, your entire body shudders with pleasure, coiling every muscle and feeling it climb upward until your stomach goes tight and you find yourself pushing her down, further, faster, until she is sucking what little air she has.

You are wound tight. Agonising, torturous tension pulling ever outward from your centre with each motion she makes. Every twitch of her tongue—fuck, does she work her tongue—spurs some sort of response down to the very tips of your toes.

It's a complete relapse. Back to four days ago, in the back of the car, with nothing but a divider between you and the driver. Cumming inside Hanni's pretty mouth and feeling her swallow every bit, then going on like nothing happened.

-

There's usually not a lot of enthusiasm for an interview. You have spent the whole morning being shrugged off by star after star after star. To them, they're there to look pretty. To show face and represent their brands. Answers are pre-written garbage to be regurgitated over and over like everyone is sharing the same stupid fucking tongue.

Then there's little miss backless-top. Denim jeans and a shirt with frills that barely keeps her modesty. Big, brown eyes and a smile that fills her whole face. Add her vibrance and energy and she really gets your journalistic gears turning. There's something fresh about her. How when you approach her, she engages you in a conversation like you're an actual person and not just some cardboard cut-out of a journalist.

Hanni Pham knows her shit. It's part of the training. She handles media with all the grace of someone born to do it and the energy of someone who loves it. So not only does she give you answers there and then, but when you make the request to sit down with her later and get all you need to do a whole feature on her, she's quickly turning to the powers that be to make it happen.

She should have been a ten-minute addendum. An hourglass figure strutting and posing and laughing her pretty little ass off for cameras for the adoring public. Instead, Hanni fucking Pham, you've got her. For hours.

So you sit down in a quiet little room you managed to reserve with the company card, and she's right across from you, with two glasses of water and a notepad on a table in an otherwise empty room.

"Is this going to be recorded?" She asks first, though looks sceptical and unprepared.

"Normally, yes. But I would prefer us to be a little more comfortable. I'm going to take notes, that's all."

"I like that." She claps, like there's an imaginary audience watching, even if you're the only one there. "So, what are we covering?"

"Everything. To start," you shift a little closer to the table. "Think of this being more about you rather than what you're wearing."

She gives you a little bit of a quizzical look.

"I know. Fashion show. Just, work with me here. The Gucci brand gets the clicks, I want to introduce those clickers to the girl wearing the clothes."

Hanni nods, her eyes light up a little and you can't help but notice how she is really fucking adorable. Up close, she's even prettier. It throws you off for a second as you bring up the notepad. The blank pages stare up at you—mock you. Where do you even begin?

"We met briefly earlier, and you're standing alongside stars from many industries and the lead designer at Gucci."

"Yes," she smiles politely. "That was exciting. Kind of surreal, really."

"So what does it take to be who you are? A girl of Vietnamese blood, born in Melbourne, working in South Korea and travelling to Europe for fashion shows?"

"Uhm, like, honestly?" She shifts in her seat. "Really a lot of hard work. Endless and stressful and never-ending hard work. You know? From singing and dancing, to the language lessons and the dieting and working out. It needs hard work and, well, a lot of luck too."

"You make your own luck." You nod, before jotting down into your notepad.

She tilts her head in response. "I suppose so. That's very quotable if you want. I made my own luck by working hard."

"And yet you're still young, what, turning twenty?"

"Just." Hanni nods.

"Barely twenty and making waves. Do you still feel like you have so much more to give?"

"Oh fuck yeah," she quickly confirms. "Wait, don't write that down."

"Oh... fuck... yeah." You sound out the words as you pretend to write them in the notepad.

"Hey!" Hanni laughs, and it's beautiful. It fills the room and just makes her glow with warmth. "Cut me some slack."

"Alright. Alright. So is this what you envisioned? Being twenty and being here?"

"You mean in this room with you?"

You laugh too. The jokes come so naturally to her.

"I'm happy where I am, it really was always my dream."

"To be in this room with me?"

"Fuck you," she laughs. "But, in a way, yes. I wouldn't be here if I didn't achieve my dream, would I?"

"That's very true. Then what is next for you?"

"There's no end goal." Hanni tilts her head. You follow her hand as it passes through her hair. She's studying you just like you are studying her. "I don't think I'll ever sit back and say 'that's enough.' That's not who I am."

"Ambitious. The question now is what are you chasing?"

"Is that you asking or the article?"

"Both," you say with a wry smile.

"For the article: I want to tour the world, keep improving and working hard. Release more music."

You scribble down a few notes and then click the top of the pen. "And off the record?"

"To spend a little more time focusing on myself. Time is fleeting. I should try and enjoy it while it lasts."

"You're young, pretty and successful. You have plenty of opportunity to do just that."

"Is that flirting?" she jokes, cocking her brow with a seductive smile.

"I'm just stating facts. I'm married to the truth." You gesture to your notepad. "So let's get back on the record, shall we?"

-

One delayed layover later and you're back in the air, and after your brief break to let Hanni drain you into her throat, you managed to get back to finishing up the article, so for the final stretch, the two of you are lying together in one of the first-class beds, and the conversation kept going.

"How are you single?" she's asking, while you're spooning her.

"Mostly because of my job. Definitely the baggage and constant travelling. Takes a special woman to not hate this."

"Sounds like idol life. I know so many idols who try to date but you just never have the time to see each other. We tour constantly and are always on the road. A long day of practising and comeback planning and comeback filming and comeback rehearsing, and more hours of sleep and eating to prep for the next comeback, you're always too exhausted."

"Such a shame." You lower the blanket that's covering her bare chest. Her breasts fill your palm as you caress them, gently. "A pretty thing like you deserves so much better than empty hotel rooms."

"Flirt," she playfully chastises, pressing her ass to your crotch before sliding forward to give you some friction, grinning at you over her shoulder. "These past few days, all the sex, I'd be lying if I said I couldn't get used to this."

It's a sentiment so heavily shared, that even now you're thinking about how easy it would be to pin her onto her back and mount her. It isn't easy to shake the thought when her body is practically inviting you inside her.

You're asking instead, still exploring her naked form, "How do you overcome the needs?"

"Other ways..." Hanni replies through closed eyes, her cheeks blushing. "Toys. Helps and hurts. They're no real substitute."

You run your hand over her toned stomach, heading between her thighs and gently prying them open. And there she is. Right fucking there, wet and waiting for you. Your finger glides over her lips and runs the full length of her, and she strains to contain a gentle moan. The problem is, Hanni is really fucking loud, and the walls of this pod are paper thin.

"I want you again," she whispers, and it's a real fucking dilemma.

She guides your cock through the folds of her pussy and leans back her head as she takes it. Fuck, it feels so good being back inside her. Wet and tight and made to grip. A small whimper escapes her when you are in deep, which she tries to swallow.

"You gotta be quiet," you tell her, while all but refusing to move inside her.

"I can be quiet," she grinds against you, but you're not convinced, and with a firm grasp of her jaw, you pull her closer.

"Can you?" you speak under her ear. "Can the oh-so-talented Hanni Pham control herself?"

She lets out another trembling little sound of pleasure while pushing herself onto your shaft. "I think so. All I know is you need to—yeah, right there. Yes." She closes her eyes and tries to stifle that deep groan of enjoyment.

You hush her before it gets too loud with a hand over her mouth. Tentatively, you begin moving, an aching slow journey backward and forward. As tight as her cunt is around your dick, the movement becomes easy. Dragging more pleasure from both of you and as she rolls her hips again, grinding against the motion, the whimpering returns.

"Hanni," you scold gently, pushing further into her with each stroke. "Shhh."

She mouths an 'I can't' into your hand which elicits a laugh from you and turns a smirk into a smile. You're rutting against her ass, savouring the feeling of your hips hitting her soft flesh. Ample curves along with a narrow waist begging you to embrace her. A pretty little thing taking all your cock and urging you on. It's hard not to go harder. "Need you."

"Careful what you wish for," you whisper as she tries to lean back her head in bliss.

Her tongue brushes your knuckles, and the soft sweep feels like a warm, wet invitation to probe further. A few seconds of uncertainty follows, and then her mouth closes around the tips of your fingers and starts to suck. Sharing the same excitement that has gotten the better of you the past few days of endless debauchery.

You sink your fingers deeper. She sucks harder, her moans stifled behind her pursed lips. Anywhere but here and you would throw her face down on the mattress, fuck her into a state of bliss. Make her beg for you and claw the bedsheets. Such an innocent girl, a girl who should have stayed wrapped in silk and lace, but who demands you take her, just a moment longer, just a bit rougher, and how can you refuse a beauty like that?

Just as Hanni settles and relaxes, her body is dragged into tense peaks of delight. Tiny gasps leak from around your fingers as you thrust deeper. She chokes as she orgasms, digging her nails into the arm that is holding her close, her face going bright pink. Sweat on her temples, on her chest. An earthly aroma of wet skin and hot breaths. She swears and curses the pleasure as you pump your orgasm between her thighs.

You fill her. For a while, you are one, grinding together in mutual fulfilment, breathing heavily and lost in your actions. The mess you're making runs from her sweet cunt, down her thigh, onto the bed.

The rush leaves the both of you exhausted. Hanni does nothing to resist you pulling out and emptying the last few drops over her ass. It is all over as quick as it began. It comes with a strange realisation of how natural it all feels to cum inside Hanni Pham.

-

It's not often that someone you interview not only takes your card, but doesn't immediately throw it away, and actually uses the number on there. You're in the back of a cab when it rings. Today's show has just about finished and while you didn't quite manage to snag another interview like the one you did with Hanni, it has been a good day.

"Did you get enough to write about?" is the first question she asks when you answer.

"I got a few bits here and there. Some surface-level stuff from others, but you gave me the marquee piece. I'll fluff up what I have with the spec sheets released and I'm sure it'll be a nice little exclusive."

"That makes me sound important," she giggles.

"You're a fucking celebrity, of course you are important."

"No need to swear."

"Apologies." There's a momentary pause. You let it linger on the call and soon enough, Hanni's laugh fills the silence.

"I'm kidding. Keep up that energy,"

"So, why are you calling? Usually, when I get a call it's to recant some statement or explain a misquote. Did I make a mess of something?"

"Well, not yet. But I have some ideas."

"Ideas?" You repeat, brows raising.

"Where are you now?" she asks, and for a moment you wonder if you shouldn't be answering.

"Taxi. Headed back to the place I'm staying."

"Where are you staying?" It's a strange question for her to ask, you think. Or maybe, it's not strange at all, but timing and circumstance have you considering the way it sounds.

"A hotel."

"Look to your right," she says, making a confusing request, but you look. Of course, you do. Outside the window, in the next lane over, stuck in the very same traffic as you are, is a familiar face. She gives you the widest grin, pressing the phone to her ear.

"Are you following me?" you joke.

"Do you want me to?" There's something playful in her voice, an attempt at seduction that's not exactly subtle.

"Hanni, what are—"

"Just answer the question," she interrupts.

And that's it. There's no reason to evade the truth. Lying to yourself gets no one anywhere. "Yeah. Yeah, I do."

"Good," she murmurs, "you know, I'm still wearing the same outfit as I was at the event. These jeans are getting really uncomfortable." She pulls the phone away from her ear for a second and you hear her call out, "Driver? See that taxi on our left? Follow it, please. And can I get some privacy back here?"

There are some distant sounds from the other side of the phone. An affirmation of orders. Then her voice is right back with you.

"As I was saying, these jeans are really uncomfortable."

"Fashion can hurt," you say flatly.

"You're supposed to tell me to take them off or something. You're not very good at this are you?"

"I didn't realise 'this' is what we were doing." You've developed a stupid fucking smile, even if it's going unseen.

"Hmm, it can be." There is a moment of quiet as if she's thinking. "Hold on a second," Hanni says. There are some vague sounds you can't make out before she comes back to the phone. "Got bored of waiting. Now, keep talking will you? I like the sound of your voice."

"Hanni, what—"

"Just keep talking. Tell me what you think of me." She can't see it, but the look of confusion must be shining bright on your face. At a loss, and under duress, you speak your mind.

"Well, you seem nice." It's a weak first effort. "Very funny, a little confident. You must know you're pretty. Young, but driven." The words you mumble are stilted, but telling the truth.

"Really. You think I'm pretty?"

"Yeah."

"Not sexy?"

"Hanni, you're fucking sexy."

"Thanks," her laugh is like bells, ringing through the car. "That's better. What did you think of my outfit?"

"Daring. Not often do I see an idol go completely backless. Risky."

"Sometimes a risk is worth taking."

"Seems so."

"Tell me more. Tell me what was the part you liked the most?" Her voice drops from that relaxed confidence to a pitch that has your head buzzing with possibility.

"Nice waist. Really looked good with the way those jeans hugged your hips."

There's a long, heavy breath from the other end of the line. Something rustling and then a deep gasp from Hanni.

"What's happening?"

"Nothing. Keep talking. Describe me to me." Her voice is fraught with need, a small tremble in each word.

"Okay." That was permission, or demand, whichever is. You swallow before continuing. "Backless was a good choice. Your bare skin looks great. I'm sure those pictures are going viral already. Betting they are all over the web, all over people's phones."

"Are we close to your hotel?" Hanni strains out the question as if it were hard to say, every syllable wrought in pain.

"Close."

"Good, are you excited?"

"To?"

"See more of my bare skin."

Fuck. The image floods your mind like a dam breaking. Suddenly, she's right there, unclothed and naked and spread open. Suddenly, she's right there, moaning in pleasure, your cock lodged deep inside her.

"Yes," you groan into the phone. It's a painful admission. "Really, Hanni. Really fucking excited."

"So tell me, what are you excited to see?"

"Your ass. Love the way you wore the jeans just a little too tight. Really framed it."

She whispers, "That's all? Anything else, anything special you wanted to see?"

"Your breasts. Like what the top does. Would like to pull it down and play with those breasts." This whole thing is obscene. You're shamelessly spilling your desire to a girl you just met and she's loving every second of it.

Another soft gasp is heard on the call. It's more than that, it's her panting, short snatches of breath as her little gasps become regular, heated and urgent. "And then what?"

"That's a surprise. We're here." The cab pulls up and her car pulls in behind you.

"Room number?"

"Oh-one-two-two," you say, handing over cash to pay the driver and stepping out. "See you there."

-

It's deep into the night now, and her back is pressed against the wall as you're kissing down her neck. For a young woman who looks ever so innocent, you're quickly learning the taste of her body could have the alcohol industry aflame. She's intoxicating and you're addicted. Lips sucking, teeth pressing lightly against tender flesh.

She told you to not wear a condom, not this time. She described your first load as a waste, a sinful injustice after all the things she had done to wring it from you. So now you're back inside her, thinking only of how you're going to decorate her this time, about the moment you can't hold back any longer and cum, uninhibited, spewing mess over her delicate, flawless little body.

So you're just fucking nailing Hanni against the wall, her leg pulled up and knee hooking around your elbow. Holding her there, pounding her cunt the best you possibly can. Her hands scratch deep lines into your back, and her fingernails leave dull aches along your spine. There's something primal in the way she's urging you to fuck her harder, stronger, faster. She wants all of you, just like you want all of her.

You lift her other leg and hold her there, folded against the drywall. The steady pounding begins to churn her insides, to break her fragile body to the rhythm. She's mewling a mixture of sounds in your ear. Begging. Incoherent sounds of need. Then you feel her cunt clenching and tightening, a sudden strength to the grip she has on your shaft.

Hanni screams your name, howling it at the ceiling and the walls while you drive her ever deeper through an orgasm that's torn apart her expression. Utter beauty, sheer excellence. Her quivering pleasure comes with warmth between the two of you. She cums so hard that she goes limp in your arms. Your legs really begin to strain as you pump her full of cock, and her lips find yours again.

Your kisses are savage, the gnashing of teeth and the crush of lips. She's asking for more. Demanding more.

So you throw her to the bed, turning her over and she instinctively drags herself to her knees. Her palms run to the edge of the bed, clawing the blankets as you climb behind her.

"Do you like my ass?" She breathes. Your grip finds the firm flesh with purpose.

"Love your ass," you mutter, taking a hold and angling her towards you.

"Then fuck me." Hanni arches deep, pushing her soft ass in the air and pressing her tits against the mattress. She backs right up to you, begging to be fucked, once more.

The penetration is perfect. Balls deep inside this horny little girl, grabbing a fistful of her hair and using it as leverage. It's hard, it's fast, it's a brutal rut. A sweaty, wet fuck driven by nothing but raw need. She's too wet, too accommodating, clapping herself against your pelvis, meeting your every thrust.

It's not the time to think. Simply let instinct take over. Leaning into it and fucking her.

More words spill from her mouth. More dirty, lewd praises that have your balls aching. It won't be long now. Every muscle, straining with effort, pulls taut. It's such a fucking trip. This once innocent-looking person sucking the life right from the core of your being, bending over for you to force a hand along her spine and bend her further.

"Cum on me," she whimpers again and again. Over and over. She's pleading with you. "Please, cum on me. On my back. Cover me."

There's no further thought, no plan, no point of focus. Everything narrows down to the slick friction around your shaft, and your stomach starting to become strained from the endless effort. To how her ass shakes as your fuck yourself to the edge and how she cranes her neck to watch you.

At the very last moment, you draw out of her and jerk yourself, quick and urgent motions of your wrist. Hanni's knees give way and she lies flat, looking back and watching you as you start to cover her.

The first spurts land high, just beneath her hair. They collect and pool before forming and dripping forward along her shoulder blades. The next spreads across her shoulders. A thin coating that has you shiver as it lands. It goes on and on until you're slathering her in thick lines and ropes.

Something about the sight is so fitting, so delectable, as she lays there and writhes with need, adoring the feeling of being bathed in your lust.

Her expression is an aphrodisiac as she cries out in ecstasy. Her tongue runs across her lips, and then she lets out a soft lass before crashing her face into the soft bedsheets with a moan. Your fist is still pumping rope after rope of cum across her until every muscle feels drained, and you manage to collapse beside her on the bed. You trace a finger across her smooth, plump ass as you catch your breath.

"This is the life," Hanni gasps. "If I could just have endless sex, the world would be a far happier place."

-

You could have been forgiven for thinking it would be a one-off. Just one night of wild sex together before going your separate ways and never speaking again. A nice memory of a beautiful girl to always sit fondly at the back of your mind.

But the very next night, you're in her hotel bathroom. Sharing a bath together, her back pressed flush to your front. You can't fucking resist running a hand between her thighs, working gently over her cunt to hear the wonderful noises she makes.

"Please," she whispers over and over, grinding against your touch.

Ordinarily, you might tease her, and have her beg a little more, but there's nothing more enthralling than the sounds and sights of Hanni's face when she cums. So instead, you're knuckle deep with two fingers and curling them into her cunt, hitting that magic spot just a little more, faster and faster.

On the brink of her second orgasm in ten minutes, Hanni draws a noisy, shuddering breath, the exhalation quickly becoming a sharp, high-pitched wail that fills the bathroom, her eyes glaze as she climaxes. "Fuck. I—that's—more." Her head falls backwards and rests on your shoulder, "yeah, more."

Hanni's petite frame writhes in orgasm. Back arched, panting breaths quickly turning to gasps for air. Eyes flutter and roll backwards before shutting entirely. Every muscle in her tight cunt grips your fingers as waves of pleasure pour from deep inside. She grinds on you, riding the sensation of your touch through the spasms until they finally slow.

"You're so fucking cute when you cum," you kiss her cheek.

It's the compliment that has her rising from the water, she stands in front of you, her wet ass and thighs dripping as she turns toward you. "Me? Cute?" She smirks, lowering herself onto your thighs, resting your cock against her pussy. "Am I really?"

"Cutest fucking thing."

She guides your cock to her wet pussy, sinking down and slowly filling herself, the both of you making a whimper at the sensation. She's in no rush, though. She prefers slow, she favours long, lingering motions where you're all the way inside her and stay there for just a few moments before climbing once more.

Her rhythm has you melting back against the bath. Long, even strokes have her ass lifting and sinking, and she rolls her hips so elegantly that it's natural to reach for her waist and run your hands along her curves.

"I hope you don't think I'm easy," Hanni whispers, her fingers grabbing the hair on the back of your head, locking her hot body against yours, keeping you close, wrapping around you. "But I'm twenty and sex-deprived, so deal with it."

"You're allowed to enjoy sex. Nothing wrong with that," you answer through closed eyes, focusing only on the heat, the skin, the feeling of your cock rubbing through her.

With a mischievous chuckle, she rests her weight on you. Chest to chest, nose against nose.

"Careful," she whispers, her voice fluttering in between soft sighs of excitement. "I could get used to having a man around. Someone willing to get me off, over and over again. You might be stuck with me. Wouldn't that be scandalous? A reporter who's secretly fucking a star like me?"

That alluring, seductive voice makes your body tense. Her kiss threatens to undo you right then and there. She's riding you harder now, bouncing her ass in your lap. Driving the pleasure, the friction, harder and deeper.

"I have a confession to make," you speak with heavy breaths, trying to restrain yourself. "I think I could get used to this. Every day. If I could."

"It's a deal then. How about we celebrate by letting you blow a load inside me? Would you like that?" She nibbles at your earlobe, giggling as she sucks it between her lips. "How good would it feel to feel your hot, thick cum slide all the way up inside me?"

"So fucking good."

"And maybe tomorrow I'll keep you inside me and let you fill me all over again, and maybe I'll do the same the day after." There's a devilish smile across her face as she continues, "I'll ride you again and again and again..."

She keeps repeating it, the word stamped into your head over and over and each time she says it, she drives her hips down into you. Hard. The water ripples. Her ass slaps the tops of your thighs. It's a relentless rhythm, an insistent grind, a desperate desire for more.

"You're filthy," you tell her as you take a firm grip on her ass, her flesh filling your grasp and the muscles rippling through her skin as she moves.

"Maybe. Maybe I am, and maybe you like it." She laughs. A sound as sweet as honey.

"You know I do."

"Then show me how much. Fill me. Let it go."

That's all you need, just her words and the way she fucks you. She's the one doing all the work, and it's all the reason you need to relax and let the bliss consume you.

Hanni is kissing you when it hits. She swallows your groans of release, sucking them into her lungs. Her hands press down into your shoulders, nails sinking deep into your skin.

She doesn't stop moving, not once. Keeps grinding. She maintains the pace until you can't take any more. Until there's nothing left. Only then does she ease her motion, settling onto your lap, keeping you deep in her.

"That was amazing," she sighs.

"Fucking was."