#LIKE DAMN that was worth not being spoiled over that!
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T3T
What do I do with my life now that Persona 5 Royal is done?!
#ooc#kiki speaks#( I just finished p5royal#wow. I sobbed a lot XD#i fucking love maruki and third semester#LIKE DAMN that was worth not being spoiled over that!#I didn’t finish hanged man nor Sun nor lovers nor empress#sun’s was fucked because I forgot about the job I had to get and Futaba and Kasumi and Maruki and Goro trumped Ann and Haru#I can see the hype behind this version—I spent 100 hours in the game and got to lvl 90#THIS GAME IS SO FUCKING GOOD!#I still love Ryuji even at the end—also didn’t realize stuff changed from vanilla to royal. it made me sadder but definitely love changes!
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Play fighting with Boxer!Sukuna
Note: Reader is referred to as girlfriend at one point.
Masterlist
“Babe.”
“Not right now.”
“Babe.”
“Sukuna, I promise I’ll be done with this book soon.”
He huffed and fell back onto the couch. He had been trying to get your attention for the past 30 minutes but you were adamant on finishing your book. This is all the fault of that damn community book club your coworker recommended you join. Now whenever, you’re off work and Sukuna doesn’t have to train, you’re reading. Usually the two of you spent almost all your spare time together but now you spent half of it reading your newest book for your weekly discussion. You always did your best to spoil him with kisses and cuddles but it was never enough.
Book club be damned, he needed you to be superglued to his side every single second.
“My girlfriend has a side man and he’s made of paper.” He huffed to himself as he watched you intently read. What was so great about your book anyway? Was it worth ignoring your gorgeous (and shirtless) boyfriend? He even had a tattoo of your name on his left pec and you were still choosing to smother a book with your attention.
Sukuna’s wallowing turned him creative- he stood in front of you, trying to make sure your guard was down. You didn’t look up which meant that you were still engrossed in your book. His hand swooped in and swiftly snatched the book from you. “Sukuna.” you groaned. “Give it back, I was at a good part.” You got up to grab it from him but he raised it above his head. “Kiss me.” You glared at him and gave him a quick peck on his lips. “Done, now give it.”
“No.” He nonchalantly replied. “But I kissed you.” You wondered why he was being particularly irritating today.
“That was me begging for a morsel of your attention. Now cuddle me if you want it.” He said and cheekily smirked.
You ignored him and hopped trying to get your book. Sukuna simply dodged your sad attempts and laughed every time you missed. “I don’t even know why you’re trying.” You gave him a pointed look at his comment.
“Okay, fine, you can have your book if you beat me in a fight.”
“What? That makes no sense.” You couldn’t believe this man. “It seems like a fair challenge to me.” He said as he walked to a particularly high shelf and placed your book on top of it. “You know I can just use my stepping stool for that, right?” You said before scoffing at him.
“Then it’s a good thing I hid it.” His sarcastic smile was now pissing you off. “But you literally fight for a living. You have the upper hand.”
“I’m in love with you. Use that as a distraction. Come on, let’s go to the ring.” You were speechless as he dragged you to the fighting “ring” (also known as your bedroom).
Since you had a smaller frame than him, he agreed to let you have the first hit. You sighed and braced yourself. You didn’t have much of a strategy except for charging at him with such a high speed that he’d fall on the bed and would accept defeat.
But as soon as you were in close distance, he caught both your arms, turned you around and threw you on the bed. He didn’t give you a second to get up before he straddled you. “Haha!” He exclaimed. Seeing you all riled up underneath him was a sight he was used to but it never failed to awe him.
“Feels familiar, doesn’t it?” He asked as he began to lower himself to face you. “This is so unfair! You’re like 200 pounds, I can’t even move you.” You said as you tried to push him off. Sukuna grabbed your hands that were fighting him and he playfully wrestled them. Who knows what would’ve happened if he used his real strength.
Thank goodness for your quick thinking because you remembered that Sukuna was extremely ticklish so you pulled your hand out of his grasp with all the strength you could muster up and started poking his sides. “Babe!” He yelled before toppling over to his side. It was your turn to straddle him and before you could pin his arms beside his head, he caught yours and pulled you down to him. He wrapped his muscular arms around you and tucked your head under his chin. Your cheeks were mushed against the very tattoo of your name.
You were literally stuck in one position. The more you tried to move the tighter he’d hold you. “Sukuna, you cheater. Why do I always do this to myself?” You sighed, accepting defeat.
Sukuna kissed your forehead and laid you both on your sides, still not letting you go. “Sweet, sweet victory.” He whispered to himself.
-•-
I need to be (lovingly) smothered by a beefy nerd. Someone like Clark Kent.
#sukuna ryoumen x you#sukuna x y/n#sukuna x you#sukuna fluff#sukuna x reader#sukuna smut#jjk sukuna#sukuna ryomen#sukuna#sukuna ryoumen x reader#sukuna ryoumen smut#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk au#jjk fluff#jjk#jjk fanfic#jujustu kaisen#jujutsu sukuna#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen
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famous poker player ! jeonghan x famous poker player ! reader
— Synopsis: Jeonghan, the untouchable poker legend, meets his match in you, that spent years watching his every move, studying his poker game, waiting for the perfect moment to strike, shattering his ego in and out of the bedroom. As you leave him wrecked and humiliated, he’s left questioning everything he thought he knew. The game’s no longer just about cards. — WC: 8.9k — WARNINGS: angst, smut, manipulation, gambling, alcohol consumption, mentions of cheating, ego destruction, heartbreak (reader uses jeonghan's past heartbreak as a manipulation to win), rough sex, dirty talk, dom!reader + sub!jeonghan (his first time being a sub), power play, chocking, hair pulling, gagging, humiliation, degradation, oral (f. receiving), masturbation (m. receiving), body fluids (cum), cock riding, overstimulation, nipple play, jeonghan sucks your fingers and etc.
Jeonghan leaned back in his chair, fingers lazily curling around his glass of whiskey. He couldn’t help but scoff when the whispers about some new poker prodigy reached his ears. His lips twisted into a smirk, eyes rolling as he tipped the glass toward his mouth.
Really? Better than him? That’s what they were saying?
He glanced around his lavish apartment, the expensive art on the walls, the sleek black car parked downstairs, and the designer clothes hanging in his walk-in closet. Who the hell was this person, thinking they could come into his world and steal his crown?
He heard how you took the big names down one by one, storming through the tables like a tornado. Maybe they had a point. But better than him? He wasn’t convinced.
As he buttoned up his black shirt, leaving the top half undone, he thought about what they said. He liked his shirts that way, just enough to show off his chest, always a little provocative without trying too hard. The sunglasses perched on top of his head held back his long hair, and a Rolex gleamed on his wrist. He liked to dress like this—clean, sharp, unbothered.
The whiskey burned his lips as he sipped, plumping them slightly from the alcohol. His head tilted back, gaze narrowing at the ceiling before pushing out a breath. So, this sensation was gonna sit at his table tonight. Fine. He wanted to see what all the fuss was about. He set the glass down and made his way to the poker room.
The place smelled of money and desperation, just the way he liked it.
— // —
You knew the moment you stepped into the room, all eyes would be on you. It wasn’t the dress, although it clung to your figure in a way that left little to the imagination despite its attempt at being ‘discreet.’ It wasn’t even the necklace, though anyone who knew their jewelry could tell the diamond hanging from it was worth a small fortune. No, it was the fact that you walked in with a purpose. Like you owned the damn room, because in your mind, you already did.
You’d been watching Jeonghan for a long time, standing in the shadows while your father pointed out the way he played—strategic, patient, never letting emotion cloud his judgment. You’d learned from the best. And now you were here to take it all. Just like he did, over and over again, watching others lose everything while he walked away with the spoils.
The poker room buzzed with energy as you made your entrance, the soft click of your heels barely audible over the hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses. And there he was, Jeonghan, sitting at the table with that lazy confidence that made him so irritatingly attractive. Black shirt half-buttoned, a glass of whiskey hanging from his fingers, his lips soft and plump from the drink. Sunglasses held his long hair back, giving him that laid-back, don’t-give-a-shit aura.
The dealer froze, eyes flicking between you and the table. “We’re missing one,” she announced.
Jeonghan’s eyes finally darted your way, trailing up your form with a slow, deliberate sweep. You could practically feel his curiosity, maybe even a hint of amusement. You gave him a brief glance, then turned your attention to the chair that was waiting for you.
“Well,” Jeonghan drawled, “Guess we’re starting now.”
You slid into the chair, ignoring the stares from around the table. Emotion? Distraction? None of it touched you. You had one focus. Winning.
The game started slow, with each player eyeing the table as if the cards themselves could tell secrets. You already knew what Jeonghan was up to; you’d seen it a thousand times before. He was the type to play people, not just cards. He watched everyone, but he never let on how much he was paying attention. Those sharp eyes darting from one player to the next.
You glanced at the woman on the other side of the table, her mirrored glasses catching the shady light. Amateurs. You could see her cards in the reflection—oblivious, reckless. A snort almost left your lips, but you held it back. Instead, your brows furrowed, unable to comprehend how someone could be that careless.
Jeonghan noticed too. His eyes flicked toward the woman, then shifted back to you. He caught the disgust on your face and had to suppress a laugh, a short breath escaping his nose. It was barely noticeable, but you didn’t miss it.
That’s how he played—small reactions, little observations. He wasn’t just studying the cards. He was reading the room. But that’s where most people faltered. Poker wasn’t just about reading your opponent; it was about mastering yourself. Turning off every feeling, every twitch of emotion. You weren’t here to feel. You were here to win. And to win, you had to make choices that seemed heartless to everyone else. But for you, it was all part of the plan.
Jeonghan, on the other hand, was searching for something. His eyes scanned your face, looking for any sign, any crack in your composure. But there was nothing. Your expression was stone-cold, eyes devoid of the shine he’d seen in others. Where most people’s emotions played out on their faces—joy, fear, anger—you gave him nothing. Your gaze was lifeless, almost opaque, like you weren’t really there. You were present, but distant, your mind somewhere else entirely.
And for once, he couldn’t figure someone out.
In poker, most people give themselves away without even realizing it. The way their breath catches when they get a good hand, or how their fingers tap when they’re bluffing. Some people can’t hide a damn thing, spilling their favorite music, their past traumas, their entire soul with a single look. But you? Jeonghan couldn’t even tell if you were a real person sitting across from him. You were like a ghost—untouchable, unreadable.
He detested that.
Still, he didn’t let it show. He leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing as he raised the stakes. His movements were plotted, but you could tell his focus had shifted. He was no longer playing to win. He was playing to figure you out. Watching the way your fingers hovered over the chips, how you folded your cards with meticulous, emotionless care.
You saw it. The way he tried to bait you. He’d push, then pull back, testing the waters, throwing small bluffs, but never fully committing. That was his game—slow manipulation, never giving you too much, always keeping you on your toes.
But you’d already seen it. You’d watched him do it time and time again. You weren’t fooled by the charm, the calculated nonchalance. You knew exactly what he was trying to do. He wanted to get inside your head, unravel whatever mystery he thought you were hiding.
The game stretched on, cards dealt, chips thrown in. But as the final hands approached, something strange happened. Neither of you was winning.
Jeonghan was too wrapped up in his obsession with breaking you down, and you? You were too focused on figuring out his game—confirming every theory you’d ever had about how he played. His tells, his habits, the way his fingers always lingered a second too long on his cards when he was bluffing. You knew him. Inside and out.
But that didn’t help you win. Not tonight.
The dealer called the game. Neither of you took the pot.
Jeonghan leaned back in his chair, a slow, lazy smirk curling on his lips. “Guess we’ll have to do this again sometime,” he said, though you could tell he wasn’t as calm as he wanted to appear.
You just looked at him, eyes still flat, still unreadable. “Maybe,” you replied, voice cold and detached. “But next time, focus on the cards.”
For a moment, he just stared at you, trying one last time to peel back the layers. But he couldn’t.
You are going to be a pain in his neck.
[...]
Jeonghan had been searching for you everywhere—tax records, statements, social media, anything that could give him a glimpse into who you were outside the poker room. But nothing.
And the irony of it all? You were right under his nose, standing behind his back in the past, unnoticed, more times than he could count. Just another face in the crowd, a "normal" girl, blending into the background while making small talk with the people who mattered. Someone important, someone worth impressing—but not you, not in his eyes. He never paid enough attention to connect the dots.
That was Jeonghan’s weakness. He could size up the players at the table, but in the real world? He let things slip. You remembered when you caught him, the moment he faltered at the table—a time he lacked patience, maybe it was the alcohol, maybe he was too sure of himself, but his fingers twitched when he was about to bluff too big. You’d hissed under your breath, watching him give himself away with that tiny tell. He was good, no doubt, but even the best had cracks.
There was also that time, years ago, when he had a girl by his side. A classic, picture-perfect trophy—long legs, expensive clothes, hair and nails done like she was auditioning for a role in some gangster flick. She was the stereotypical “pimp’s wife,” hanging off Jeonghan’s arm while he gazed at her with those stupid, love-drunk eyes.
You had rolled your eyes so hard they almost got stuck.
The entire casino buzzed with rumors about her—the way she’d swindled money under his nose, how she was there for the money, for the benefits. And Jeonghan? He didn’t even see it coming. Too wrapped up in the fantasy, too blind to notice how she played him. Eventually, she broke his heart in the most humiliating way possible, leaving him behind with nothing but those pathetic rumors, the gossip about his downfall trailing after him like perfume.
Tonight, though, things were different. This game wasn’t in the usual place. No, it was on a luxury cruise, far outside any regulations, outside the safety of controlled territory. Here, anything could happen, and everything was allowed. You made sure your presence was felt before you even sat down. A bigger diamond hung around your neck tonight, matching the heavy stones on your earrings and the glint of the ring on your finger. It was subtle, but anyone with half a brain could tell what you were signaling—wealth, power, danger. A quiet boast that you could bury anyone at this table if you wanted to.
As you sat down, you noticed the last game’s winner strategically choosing the seat next to yours, clearly hoping to ride the wave of luck or maybe get a read on you. A smile tugged at your lips. Not today, ma boy. He thought he had an advantage? Not even close. You glanced at him, knowing full well that every smile you gave, every tiny reaction, was another move in the game. But you were always three steps ahead of them all.
Across from you sat Jeonghan, his gaze as slutty as ever, eyes dragging over you with zero shame. You knew that look—he wasn’t even trying to hide his interest. But you didn’t bite. You didn’t act on impulse, never did. Every move you made was calculated, every risk weighed and measured long before you stepped into this room. That’s how you won. While everyone else was still trying to figure out the rules, you’d already written your own.
The game started, tension building as the cards hit the table. You could feel Jeonghan’s eyes on you, trying to catch something, anything, but you gave him nothing. He was good, but you were better, already mapping out his play. You watched his fingers, the way they tapped against his chips when he was thinking.
But what really caught your attention was the way he murmured under his breath, almost absentmindedly, when he was sizing up his opponents. It was like he was narrating his own game, whispering little clues while doing the opposite of what he wanted people to think.
He was messing with their heads, giving them false signals while slipping in moves they didn’t expect. You could see the way the other players were starting to falter, misreading his intentions, stumbling over their decisions as Jeonghan fed them just enough to confuse them.
But you weren’t fooled.
You knew his game too well, knew the way he liked to play with people’s minds. He was trying to throw you off, make you second-guess yourself. But every look, every murmur, every bluff was something you had already anticipated.
Jeonghan was talking too much.
He always did this when he was trying to manipulate people—narrating his moves, acting like it was just him thinking out loud. But tonight, it was getting under your skin in a way that made you want to roll your eyes so hard it hurt. Every word that spilled from his mouth, every cocky smirk, every calculated glance was just noise. Too much noise.
And you were done with it.
So, with a calmness that could make ice seem warm, you leaned back in your chair, eyes narrowing as you shuffled your chips between your fingers. Then, with a voice that cut through the air like a knife, you asked, “Mr. Yoon… how’s your ex?”
You didn’t miss the way the room collectively held its breath. Players around the table stilled, the soft murmurs from the crowd fading into a stunned silence. People thought it was just a curious, innocent question, maybe a playful jab at his famous love life. They didn’t know the weight of it, the way it pierced straight into him.
But he knew.
You had crossed a line. A very delicate one. And you did it with a smile, like it was nothing. Like stepping over the line was as easy as stepping over a crack in the sidewalk. And that’s what set it off.
Jeonghan froze, his hand hovering over his cards. For a moment, he didn’t move, didn’t speak. His mouth opened slightly, but no words came out. It was as if your question had punched the air right out of his lungs. His cool, confident conduct cracked, just for a second, but enough for you to see the split.
That girlfriend. The one who crushed his heart into dust and didn’t even look back. She wasn’t just a sore subject—she was the wound he never let anyone touch. And you? You didn’t just touch it. You pressed down hard, twisting the knife until the pain reflected in his eyes.
“She… uh,” he stammered, trying to regain his footing, fingers twitching around his cards. His face didn’t show much at first—Jeonghan was too practiced for that. But it was in his hands. The way they fumbled for his chips, the way his thumb nervously tapped against the table.
His mind was unraveling, and you watched it happen in real time. The words you’d thrown at him weren’t just a blow—they were a ticking time bomb, going off in his head over and over again. He couldn’t focus. Couldn’t pull himself back together fast enough. You’d cracked something in him, and now all those emotions he usually buried deep were flooding to the surface.
"She’s good," he finally managed to mumble, forcing a shrug, his attempt at brushing it off. But it was too late. He had faltered, and everyone saw it.
You smiled, your eyes cold and sharp, watching as he tried to hide behind that stupid grin of his. But the damage was done. You had used his own tactics against him—poking and prodding at the weaknesses until he couldn’t help but crumble. Only this time, it was worse. He wasn’t used to being on the receiving end of this kind of mind game.
Jeonghan tried to refocus, pulling his attention back to the cards. But his hands were shaking now, and he made a mistake. He matched a bet he shouldn’t have. His stack of chips was dwindling, and everyone at the table could see it.
You caught the twitch in his fingers when he was about to bluff, the way his eyes darted to the side, just for a split second. He wasn’t even aware he was doing it, but you were. You watched every tiny movement, every subtle tell he gave away as the game went on. He was unraveling, and you were loving every second of it.
As the rounds continued, his frustration became more and more apparent. His jaw clenched, his mouth pressed into a thin line, and his usual smooth talk started to falter. His voice was quieter now, unsure. Every time he looked at his cards, you could see the doubt in his eyes. He was playing on autopilot, too distracted by the question still gnawing at his brain.
How’s your ex?
The question echoed in his mind, louder than the crowd, louder than the sound of the cards being dealt. It was a constant hum, a reminder of his failure, both in love and in the game. The more he thought about it, the more mistakes he made. He couldn’t shake it, couldn’t compartmentalize the way he usually did. You’d crawled under his skin, and now he was lost in his own head.
The more uncomfortable he became, the more the game tilted in your favor.
And then, it happened. His final misstep. Jeonghan threw in all his chips on a hand that he was convinced would win, but his bluff was too obvious, too desperate. You saw it from a mile away. With a slow, deliberate smirk, you laid your cards on the table.
Straight flush.
The room gasped. Jeonghan’s face went white, his jaw literally dropping as he stared at the cards in disbelief. His mouth hung open, but no words came out. His brain was still trying to catch up, still reeling from the question that had taken him out of the game long before the cards were even dealt.
You leaned forward, your smile turning into something sharper, more vicious as you pulled the massive pile of chips toward you, raking them in with your arms. “Better luck next time,” you said.
Jeonghan just sat there, stunned, watching as you claimed victory without even breaking a sweat. He wasn’t used to losing, especially not like this. Not when someone used his tactics and twisted them until they cut deeper than he ever intended. He tried to say something, anything, but all he could do was stare at you, his mind still spinning, still trying to figure out where it all went wrong.
But you already knew. You’d gotten inside his head, turned the tables on him, and left him gutted, just like his ex had done.
Jeonghan couldn’t stop. After that first loss, he played again. Then another game. And another. Each one worse than the last. Every time, he thought he could regain control, pull himself together, get back into his rhythm—but no. He was spiraling, his thoughts spinning out of control. His hands trembled with every bet, his bluffs grew weaker, and his confidence bled out with every chip that slipped through his fingers.
At one point, his friend—a familiar face, someone who’d watched him dominate this scene for years—touched his shoulder, giving him a sharp look. “Stop, Jeonghan. You’ve lost enough.”
But he couldn’t stop. He needed to win something. He needed to claw back even a shred of his dignity, anything to remind himself he was still Jeonghan, the legend. But the more he tried, the deeper he dug his own grave. Every hand was a humiliation.
By the time the final round ended, Jeonghan wasn’t even sitting anymore. He stood, arms crossed, shoulders tense as he watched the game from the side, a silent observer. He didn’t need to say it—the shame on his face was clear enough. He never had to stand and watch. It was beneath him. But tonight, he was left with no choice, stripped of everything he had worked for.
And you? You rose from your seat like it was nothing, your body language as casual as if you had just finished a friendly round at a small-stakes table. You didn’t even bother to look at him, didn’t care about the people whispering around you, the ones who were still buzzing over the fact that you had won every round. You walked out like the night didn’t matter. Like it was just another game.
For Jeonghan, though, it was devastating. His ego lay shattered, a million pieces scattered on the floor. The heartbreak from his ex? That pain had dulled over time. But you had ripped open that old wound, making it raw again, bringing back every piece of humiliation he had tried to bury. He felt himself fumbling, trying to grasp something solid, but everything was slipping through his fingers.
And then he saw you.
Like some kind of devil on his shoulder, you were there, watching him as you stood by the bar. You didn’t even need to say a word. The sight of you—so calm, so unbothered—made him feel sick. You ordered a drink, took it in hand, and with a quiet smirk on your lips, you started walking towards your room.
Jeonghan couldn’t let it go.
His feet moved before his brain even caught up. He followed you, his pulse pounding in his ears, that familiar swagger of his long gone. He didn’t even know what he wanted from you—answers, confrontation, something—but all he knew was that he needed to speak to you.
You walked into your room like you knew he’d be behind you, the door clicking shut behind him as he entered. There you were, standing by the window, holding your drink like nothing had happened, like you hadn’t just ripped his ego to shreds in front of everyone.
Jeonghan's voice was low, strained, almost shaky. “What the hell was that?”
You turned, eyes cold, that same infuriating smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “What do you mean?” you asked, sipping your drink slowly.
“Don’t play dumb with me,” he snapped, stepping closer, his fingers curling into fists at his sides. “You knew exactly what you were doing, bringing her up like that.”
You shrugged, unfazed, as if his anger meant nothing to you. “It was just a question.”
“Bullshit.” His voice cracked. “You—you went there on purpose. You knew it would mess with me, and you did it anyway.”
Another sip. Another smile. You didn’t even blink as you watched him unrave. “Isn’t that what you do? Get inside people’s heads? Push their buttons until they break?” You leaned against the window, eyes gleaming with delight as you spoke. “I thought you’d appreciate the effort.”
Jeonghan let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “This was different. You crossed a line.”
You tilted your head, the smile widening. “Oh? And what line is that, Jeonghan? The one where you keep your emotions locked up and pretend they don’t exist? Or the one where you think you’re untouchable?”
He stared at you, his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. There was a heaviness in the atmosphere between you two, viscous with stress—anger, yes, but something else too. Something he didn’t want to admit was there. His eyes flicked to your lips for a split second, before he forced himself to look away.
“You don’t get it,” he muttered, his voice quieter now. “That wasn’t just about the game.”
You raised an eyebrow, sipping your drink again, taking your time. “No, Jeonghan. I get it more than you think.”
His frustration spiked, fingers twitching at his sides as he fought to keep his voice steady. “What is this? Huh?” He took a step closer, his body tense, looming over you. “What do you want from me?”
You didn’t back down, didn’t flinch. If anything, you seemed to enjoy the way he was coming undone in front of you. “Nothing,” you said, your voice soft. “That’s the problem, isn’t it? You want to matter, you want me to care, but you don’t. You’re just… there.”
His jaw clenched, eyes narrowing as the words hit him like a punch to the gut. “You’re full of shit.”
“Maybe,” you said with a light chuckle, finishing your drink and placing the empty glass on the table beside you. “But you’re here, Jeonghan. Following me, like some lost puppy, hoping for… what? Closure? An apology?”
He opened his mouth to speak, but you cut him off, stepping closer, your voice dropping to a whisper. “You wanted to get inside my head, Jeonghan. But look at you. You’re the one who’s a mess. You’re the one who’s crumbling.”
You could see it in his eyes—the conflict, the way he was battling with himself. The fury, the frustration, the desperation. And underneath all of that? The craving. The way his gaze flickered to your lips again, the way his breathing hitched every time you moved just a little closer.
But you stayed cold, unfeeling, watching him with that same smirk on your face, enjoying every second of his discomfort.
“Go on,” you whispered. “Tell me how much you hate me. How much I’ve fucked with your head. Tell me I’m the problem.”
Jeonghan's lips parted, but no words came out. He was shaking with rage, with something else, his hands twitching as if he wanted to grab you, shake you, do something. But he didn’t.
Because he couldn’t.
Because you had won. Again.
But through it all, there was one that kept circling back to the same question:
Who the hell are you?
“I don’t even know you,” he spat, his voice cracking. “I don’t know who you are, where you came from, or why the fuck you’re doing this to me.”
You raised an eyebrow, that infuriating smirk still playing on your lips. “Don’t you, though?” Your voice was calm, icy, as if his unraveling in front of you was nothing more than a spectacle for your amusement.
“No.” He shook his head, stepping closer, his face inches from yours now. “I don’t. You—” His words stumbled, caught in the whirlwind of emotions he couldn’t make sense of. “You show up out of nowhere, tear me apart in front of everyone, and then act like I’m supposed to—” His voice wavered, almost pleading. “I don’t even know your fucking name.”
You chuckled, a low sound that made him shiver. “That’s the thing with you, Jeonghan. You don’t know anyone, really. Not unless it benefits you. You see people as pawns, tools to get what you want. All these years, you’ve played your little game, always one step ahead of everyone else. But you never bothered to look around, did you? Never noticed the people who were watching you.”
His brows furrowed, confusion flickering in his eyes. “What the hell are you talking about?”
You leaned in just enough that your breath brushed his skin. “I was always there, Jeonghan. Watching. Learning. I’ve seen you win, lose, fake that stupid smile when things don’t go your way.” Your eyes darkened, voice dropping as your lips curled into a mocking smile. “But you? You never noticed me. Not once.”
Jeonghan’s breath hitched as your words sank in. His mind raced, trying to piece together fragments of memories, moments, faces in the background. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t place you. “You’re lying,” he said, his voice shaking, though he wasn’t even sure who he was trying to convince anymore.
“I’m not.” Your voice was cold, cutting through his defenses with ease. “You were too wrapped up in your own world to notice anyone who didn’t directly serve you. That’s your problem, Jeonghan. You think the world revolves around you, and anyone outside your little bubble? They don’t exist. You never cared to look at anyone unless they were a threat to you. Unless they had something you wanted.”
His jaw clenched, anger flashing in his eyes. “You don’t know a damn thing about me.”
“I know enough.” You stepped closer, your bodies barely an inch apart now. He could feel the heat radiating off you, the way your words slipped under his skin, pulling at every insecurity he had buried deep. “I know how you ignored the signs when your ex was using you. How you let her walk all over you because you were too blind to see her for what she really was. I know how you couldn’t keep your emotions in check tonight, how I got into your head so easily because you’re weak.”
Jeonghan’s breath came out in shallow bursts, his chest heaving with each one. He was crumbling, and he knew it. But he couldn’t stop himself from spiraling, not with the way you were tearing him apart piece by piece. “Shut up,” he whispered, voice barely audible—as if he was afraid of how much truth was in your words.
You didn’t stop. You pressed on, your voice softer now, but no less cutting. “That’s why you don’t remember me. Because I didn’t matter to you. Because I wasn’t something you could use.”
Jeonghan's gaze flickered to your lips, the pressure between you two thickening with every word that passed. He wanted to hate you. He wanted to scream at you, push you away, do anything to get you out of his head. But he couldn’t. Instead, he found himself leaning in closer, drawn to the coldness in your eyes, the way you seemed to see right through him.
“And now?” he muttered, his voice hoarse, almost a growl. “What do you want now?”
You tilted your head, a wicked gleam in your eyes as you smiled, your voice dripping with condescension. “I already got what I wanted.” You reached up, your fingers ghosting along the side of his face, barely touching him, yet it sent a shock through his entire body. “You. Like this. Completely wrecked. Fucked, because of me.”
His breath hitched, and before he could think, his hands shot up to grip your waist, pulling you flush against him. It was a desperate, reckless move, one born out of frustration, anger, and something else he didn’t want to name. But you didn’t flinch. You didn’t pull away.
Instead, you smirked up at him, your eyes glinting with something dark, and whispered, “You’re so predictable.”
“Shut up,” Jeonghan hissed again, but this time, his voice was strained, thick with something deeper than just anger. His fingers tightened around your waist, holding you in place as if he was afraid you’d slip away if he let go. He hated how much power you had over him, how every word out of your mouth only made him want you more.
You raised an eyebrow, that same infuriating smile still plastered on your face. “Make me.”
That was all it took for him to snap.
And then, he kissed you like he was trying to take back control, like he needed to prove something—to himself, to you, to anyone watching. But deep down, he knew it was a losing battle. Because you weren’t kissing him back with desperation. No, you kissed him like you had already won and this was just another part of the game.
His hands roamed your body, fingers digging into your skin as if he needed to ground himself, to feel something real in this moment. But even as he kissed you, even as he lost himself in the heat of the moment, that nagging thought stayed at the back of his mind.
You were still in control.
And that thought only made him kiss you harder, more fiercely, like he could erase it if he just tried harder.
“You’ll never figure me out,” you murmured against his lips, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “And that’s why you’ll always lose.”
He hated you. He wanted you. And he couldn’t tell which feeling was stronger.
His hand tightened in your hair, fingers tangling in the strands as he yanked your head back hard. The hurried pull sent a harsh jolt of pain through your scalp, but instead of a wince, what came out of your mouth was a quiet, throaty laugh. “You—such a bitch,” he growled, but you could see the flicker of disbelief in his eyes, watching you—fucking laughing at the pain.
The corner of your mouth curled up, lips parted as you let out a quiet moan. “You think that hurts?” you taunted, maybe challenging. “Do it harder.”
Jeonghan’s grip tightened, a growl thundering from his chest as he yanked even harder, and this time your head jerked back, the pain shooting through you in a way that only made you smile wider. The way he watched you, eyes wide, mouth salivating, had you lit up inside.
His lips crashed down on yours again, rough and biting, teeth dragging across your bottom lip as if trying to draw blood. You hissed into his mouth, but he didn’t let up, kissing you harder.
But this wasn’t just some kiss. It was a battle, and he was losing.
Your hands gripped the back of his neck, nails digging in as you pulled him closer, deepening the kiss, swallowing the moan that escaped his throat. When he bit down hard on your lip, you cursed at him.
“Fucking do it right,” you spat between heavy breaths. “Or don’t do it at all.”
Jeonghan’s eyes dimmed, his jaw clenching as he pushed you back against the nearest surface—a column that was inside the room. His free hand sliding down to your thigh, roughly pulling it up to hook around his waist. “You think you can just order me around, huh?” By his tone… Yes, you think.
You smirked, breathless but still in control. “I know I can.”
He didn’t waste any more words. His lips moved to your neck, biting down hard enough to leave a mark, and you hissed, arching against him. His hand slid down between your legs, fingers brushing against the edge of your panties before yanking them aside, not giving a single fuck about being gentle.
“Is this what you wanted?” he growled, his lips brushing against your ear as his fingers slid over your wetness, the folds doing a warm caress on his fingers, teasing you just enough to make your breath hitch. “Tell me.”
You didn’t answer him, but your body betrayed you, hips pushing toward his hand, craving more. He noticed, of course, because he always did. But this time, he wasn’t the one in control, and he knew it.
“Say it,” he demanded, his voice rough, almost strained as his fingers barely grazed over you, enough to drive you insane but not enough to satisfy.
You let out a breathless laugh, your eyes meeting his, still cold but twinkling with fun. “I want you to shut the fuck up and make yourself useful.”
That did it. Jeonghan dropped to his knees, yanking your dress up as he settled between your legs, not wasting any time. His fingers dug into your thighs, spreading them as his mouth hovered just above your heat. His breath ghosted over your skin, and you could feel the tension in him, feel how much he wanted this, but you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of asking.
He pressed a hard, open-mouthed kiss just above your clit, his teeth grazing your skin before he moved lower, his tongue flicking out just enough to make you gasp. “Still want me to shut up?” he murmured against you, his voice full of smug.
But before you could answer, his mouth was on you, and any retort you had died in your throat. His tongue was merciless, moving over you making your legs tremble. You bit down hard on your lip, trying to suppress the sounds threatening to escape, but it was impossible. A low moan tore from your lips as his mouth worked you over, his tongue circling your clit before sucking it into his mouth with just the right amount of force.
Your hand instinctively shot to his hair, gripping it tight as you tried to control your trembling legs. But he wasn’t slowing down. His tongue moved faster, harder, sending wave after wave of pleasure through you until your whole body was quivering.
He bit down, just enough to make you hiss, your nails digging into his scalp as you cursed him under your breath. “Fuck—” you gasped, body arching toward him. “Don’t stop.”
Jeonghan didn’t need to be told twice. His hands gripped your thighs harder, holding you in place as his tongue moved faster. Every flick, every swirl was straightforward, designed to make you lose the command. And you were, piece by piece. The cold, detached front you’d kept up was slipping, crumbling under the warmth of his mouth, the way he devoured you like it was the only thing that mattered.
You could feel it, the edge approaching fast, and you let out a low moan, your hips moving against his face as you chased it. “Fucking hell, Jeonghan—” you gasped, your voice leaving like a whisper as the orgasm hit you hard. Your body tensed, legs trembling as the orgasm ripped through you, leaving you breathless, your mind blank except for the overstimulating sensation of his mouth still on you.
He didn’t stop, didn’t let up until your body finally relaxed against him, spent and slaked. Only then did he pull back, his lips swollen and slippery with your arousal, his eyes meeting yours with triumph
You looked down at him, chest still heaving, but your smirk was back in full force. “You slacked at the table tonight, Jeonghan.” The words rolled off your tongue with conscious slowness, each one cutting him just a little deeper. “But down there… between my legs? You were such a good boy.”
He froze, still so close to your cunt. You could feel and see his breath hitch at your words, his whole body tensing, and that only made your smirk grow wider. As you lower down, you let your fingers lazily trail down his chest, feeling the way his muscles twitched under your touch.
“You know,” you continued, voice leaking with mock sweetness, “maybe if you put as much effort into the game as you do into this,” your hand moved lower, brushing over the waistband of his pants, “you wouldn’t have lost everything tonight.”
His face faltered for a split second, the confidence in his eyes flickering as he processed your words. You could see his jaw clench, his pride taking the hit. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” You chuckled softly, your hand slipping further down, squeezing the bulge in his pants, feeling the tension there. “Look at you,” you whispered, “so obedient when it counts. Such a good boy.”
His lips parted, his breath coming out in shallow bursts, but he still didn’t say anything.
“Tell me,” you continued, eyes glinting as you applied a little more pressure, “was it worth it? Throwing away your pride at the table just so you could be on your knees for me?”
He swallowed hard, his hands twitching at his sides like he didn’t know whether to grab you or push you away. His ego was bruised—no, shattered—and here you were, rubbing salt into the wound, reminding him exactly how far he’d fallen.
Your hand tightens around Jeonghan's neck, your fingers pressing into the soft skin as he chokes, his breath cutting short. The sound that escapes him is desperate, needy, a cough that barely finds its way through the pressure you've applied. His body tenses, his muscles straining.
"Get up," you command.
He stumbles, one hand on the floor, the other grasping for something to steady himself as he rises to his feet, eyes lost, clouded over in a haze of confusion and submission that he’s trying so hard to fight.
Your grip on his throat loosens just enough for him to take in a sharp breath, but you don’t give him much relief. Instead, your fingers trail from his neck to his chin, tipping his face up so his eyes meet yours. His lips part instinctively, searching for air, but you take that as an invitation, sliding two fingers past them, pushing into his mouth without warning.
His eyes widen in shock, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, his lips wrap around your fingers, mouth warm and wet as he takes them in, his breath coming in short, shaky bursts through his nose.
"Suck," you command, voice sharp, leaving no room for hesitation.
He complies, but it's tentative, unsure, his tongue brushing over your fingers but lacking the enthusiasm you expect. You press your fingers deeper, feeling the resistance in his throat as he gags, eyes watering slightly.
“Do it right,” you growl, eyes narrowing as you press harder into his mouth, your fingers curling against his tongue. "Suck them right."
This time, he obeys. His lips tighten around your fingers, and his head bobs forward slowly, drawing you deeper into his mouth as he begins to suck properly. His cheeks hollow out as his tongue swirls around your fingers, slick and wet, saliva coating your skin as he works. His eyes, though filled with defiance, are beginning to show something more desperate, more submissive.
Your smirk widens as you watch him, completely captivated by the sight of him on the edge of breaking. You can feel the heat building inside you, the wetness pooling between your legs as you watch him, his mouth obediently working over your fingers, his body betraying the fight he's trying to put up.
"Good boy," you praise as you feel him sucking harder, as if the praise makes him crave more.
With your other hand, you move to his belt, your fingers working swiftly to unbuckle it, the metal clinking as you pull it loose. His body stiffens, but he doesn’t stop sucking, not even when you move to his zipper, yanking it down in one quick, sharp movement. The fabric of his jeans parts, revealing the hard line of his cock straining against the black briefs beneath.
You press your wet fingers deeper into his mouth, pushing them to the back of his throat as you slip your other hand inside his jeans, gripping the base of his cock. The contrast of sensations makes him jolt—your fingers choking him, while the other hand wraps around him, stroking slowly.
He gags around your fingers, eyes wide as he looks up at you, and for a moment, you think he might pull away. But then he doesn’t. Instead, he adjusts, his throat contracting as he fights to keep sucking, his lips tight around your fingers as you press them deeper.
"That's it," you purr, your voice low and sultry, watching him struggle to keep up, to please you. "Take it all."
Your hand moves in rhythm with his sucking, your fingers wrapped around his cock, stroking him slowly, teasingly. He lets out a muffled moan, the sound vibrating around your fingers as his hips jerk forward slightly, desperate for more, but you keep the pace slow, torturous.
He’s trying so hard to hold onto his pride, to resist fully submitting, but you can feel the cracks widening, see the way his body reacts, how his mouth moves more eagerly over your fingers now, desperate to please. His cock twitches in your hand, and you can feel the tension building in him, the way he’s teetering on the edge of giving in completely.
You pull your fingers from his mouth with a wet pop, strings of saliva still connecting them as you smirk down at him. His lips part as he gasps for breath, his chest heaving. You use your now-wet fingers to stroke his cock, the slickness making each movement smoother, more intense.
"Look at you," you tease as you watch his hips buck into your hand, his body betraying him completely. "So fucking desperate."
Jeonghan’s eyes flutter shut for a moment, his breath coming in short, shallow bursts as he struggles to hold on, but you don’t stop. Your hand moves faster, stroking him with purpose now, your wet fingers sliding over his length.
“Open your eyes,” you command sharply, your grip tightening around him. “Look at me.”
He obeys, his eyes snapping open, wide and desperate, his lips parted as soft gasps and whimpers escape him.
"Good boy," you murmur again, watching the way his cock twitches in response, how his breath catches in his throat. "Now, don’t stop until I tell you to."
Your hand moves faster, the slickness making each stroke more torturous. He lets out a broken moan, his hips jerking forward into your hand as his body trembles with the effort to hold back.
"You’re gonna finish when I say," you whisper, your lips brushing against his ear as your hand moves faster, your grip tightening. “Not a second before.”
Jeonghan’s breath is ragged, his body shaking with the effort to obey.
Your grip on his cock tightens as you pull him closer, dragging him by his phallus, his body stumbling into yours with a strangled moan. His head falls onto your shoulder, his breath hot and ragged against your neck as his hand shoots out to grab your arm, desperate to steady himself—like you’re about to knock him out.
You guide him toward the bed. “Can’t even walk straight Jeonghan?”
He lets out a weak sound, something between a moan and a groan, as you push him onto the mattress, his back hitting the sheets. His eyes are glazed over, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his cock standing stiff and red, twitching. You smirk as you climb onto the bed, straddling him, your knees pressing into the mattress on either side of his hips.
You hover over him for a moment, savoring the sight of him laid out beneath you, completely at your mercy. His hands twitch as if he wants to touch you, but you pin them down with your knees, shaking your head with a wicked grin.
“Don’t even think about it,” you say. “You don’t get to touch until I say so.”
Jeonghan lets out a soft whimper, his lips parted as he struggles to control himself, his body aching for more.
You reach down, grabbing the hem of his shirt and pulling it up, just enough to expose his chest. His skin is flushed, his nipples hard, and you let out a low chuckle as you pinch one between your fingers. He jerks beneath you, a strangled moan escaping his lips as his back arches slightly off the bed.
“Sensitive here too, hm?” you tease, giving his nipple another sharp pinch. His hips buck up into you, desperate for friction, but you press him back down with a firm hand on his chest, keeping him in place.
His breath is coming in short, shallow bursts, his cock twitching against your thigh as you tease him, dragging the moment out, savoring every second of his desperation.
Finally, you lift your hips, positioning yourself over him. You guide his cock to your entrance, lowering yourself just enough for his tip to slip inside, the stretch slow and torturous. He gasps, his hips jerking up instinctively, but you slam them back down with a firm grip on his waist.
“Don’t. Move,” you command, your voice sharp.
He bites his lip, his head falling back onto the pillow, chest heaving as you sink down onto him, inch by agonizing inch. The way he fills you completely, the feeling of him trembling beneath you as you take him in, slowly, savoring every second.
You stop halfway, smirking as you grind your hips in slow circles, teasing him with the promise of more. His eyes snap open, his lips parting in a desperate gasp as he looks up at you, pleading.
“Please,” he groans. “Please, I can’t… I need it.”
You chuckle softly, your fingers trailing down his chest, pinching his nipples again just to watch him squirm. Without warning, you slam down the rest of the way, taking him fully inside you. His mouth falls open in a silent scream, his body jerking beneath you as the pleasure hits him all at once. You bite your lip, your own breath catching as the sensation washes over you, the fullness, the stretch, the way his cock throbs inside you.
You start moving, riding him hard and fast, your hips slamming down onto his with every thrust, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. His hands shoot up to your hips, but you slap them away, pinning them above his head as you fuck him, using him for your own pleasure.
“You feel that?” you hiss, your lips brushing against his ear. “That’s what it feels like to be used.”
Jeonghan can only moan in response. You lean back, riding him harder, faster, your hands gripping his wrists, grinding down on him with every thrust, feeling the tension building inside both of you.
“Fuck,” he groans, his head tossing back, his eyes squeezing shut as he bites down on his lip, trying desperately to hold on. But you know he’s close. You can feel it.
Jeonghan’s breath hitches, his eyes fluttering open for a moment, wide and desperate, before they squeeze shut again, his body trembling violently beneath you.
You lean down, your lips brushing against his ear as you whisper, “Cum for me.”
And with that, he breaks. His body tenses, his back arching off the bed as he lets out a strangled moan, his cock twitching violently inside you as he comes, the pleasure hitting him like a freight train. You ride him through it, grinding down on him as you chase your own release.
You lean forward, your body pressing down as your clit grinds against his pelvis. Jeonghan's cock is still deep inside you, and you can feel every inch of him twitching, overstimulated and helpless beneath you. His eyes roll back, lips parted in a messy gasp, his hair splayed out on the mattress like a fallen angel. The way his face twists, dumb with pleasure, is almost enough to push you over the edge by itself. His eyebrows furrow in a compound of pain and ecstasy, and the moans slipping from his throat—whiny, breathless, and downright filthy—send a rush of heat pooling in your belly.
You can feel it building, that pressure inside you, tighter and tighter with every grind of your hips. You’re losing control too, your moans spilling out, desperate and raw, betraying the power you’ve held this whole time. It doesn’t even sound like you’re the one in control anymore. You’re chasing that release, grinding harder, faster, your slickness making it a mess between your legs, each movement slippery, loud. The wet sounds of your bodies sliding together are filthy, and the sensation of the mess you’ve made splashing against your thighs only adds to the intensity building inside you.
Jeonghan’s eyes flutter open just as you're on the edge. He looks up at you, pupils blown wide, as though he's watching a divine vision unfold in front of him. The sight of his ruined expression—those parted lips, the way his chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath—sends you crashing over the edge.
You let out a broken moan, hips jerking forward as the orgasm tears through you. Your body trembles, thighs clenching around him as you ride out every pulse of pleasure, the mess between your legs gushing onto him, soaking his skin, your breath coming in desperate gasps. You grind down on him one last time, milking every second of it as you feel his cock twitching inside you, overstimulated beyond belief.
“Fuck…” Jeonghan whimpers, his voice raw as his body jerks beneath you, unable to handle any more. His belly caves in, the muscles trembling under your relentless pressure.
After what feels like forever, you slowly lift yourself off him, his cock slipping out with a wet sound, leaving him twitching and trembling. His body is sprawled out on the bed, his chest heaving, hair stuck to his forehead, completely undone. You stand up, your legs weak but steady enough as you smooth down your dress, the fabric hugging your curves again as if nothing happened. You fix your hair, eyes never leaving his limp, exhausted form.
Jeonghan’s gaze follows you, his breath shallow, and his face still slack from the overwhelming high. His eyes are half-lidded, but there’s a glimmer of curiosity, or maybe disbelief, flickering behind them.
"Has anyone ever dominated you like that before?" you ask casually, as if this is a normal conversation after completely ruining him.
He shakes his head, still too breathless to form words. No.
You smirk, tilting your head as you adjust the straps of your dress. “Thought so.”
You step closer to him, leaning down just enough so he can see the wicked gleam in your eyes. “Next time, maybe try not to let your guard down so easily. You’re a mess, Jeonghan.”
He blinks up at you, lips parted, still trying to process everything that just happened. You give him one last amused glance, standing tall and smoothing your dress again before turning on your heel.
“Enjoy the rest of your night,” you say with a mocking sweetness, smirking as you walk toward the door. Just before leaving, you look over your shoulder, adding, "I’ll be at the party if you ever want to lose again.”
#seventeen headcanons#seventeen imagines#seventeen reactions#seventeen scenarios#seventeen x reader#seventeen#seventeen smut#svt imagines#svt smut#jeonghan smut#jeonghan#yoon jeonghan#jeonghan x reader#jeonghan fanfic#jeonghan x y/n#jeonghan x you#jeonghan fluff#yoon jeonghan x reader#yoon jeonghan smut#yoon jeonghan fanfic#yoon jeonghan x you#svt reactions#svt#svt x reader#svt fluff#seventeen fanfic#seventeen angst#seventeen au
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A whole day of Rafe spoiling his precious gf... 💕
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─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
You woke up not feeling like your usual self, it's been a long time since you've done something with your hair or went to get your eyebrows done, sticking to basic skin-care for a while now.
Best bet Rafe is not gonna let your quiet "I feel like shit," slide, he asks why, baffled because to him, you're the hottest girl in the world, but gets out of bed anyway, telling you to get dressed and tell him where you want him to take you first as he's cancelling his business meeting for today.
You're chuckling as he's driving you to your favorite place to get your eyebrows waxed and get an eyelash lift (he doesn't really know what that is... but anything to make his girl happy), he sits down in the waiting room and deals with some e-mails while you follow the nice lady inside. She waxes your eyebrows and chats with you while she works on your eyelashes, complimenthing their length.
Rafe gives you a smile when you walk out and wink at him multiple times, showing off your lashes, your mood being a lot better already. He wraps his arm around your waist, squeezing you gently as he pays the lady with his black card, leaving a tip for being so nice to his precious baby.
He drops you off at your favorite hair salon, knowing damn well hair will take a lot of time and no chance in hell he's gonna sit around. "Get anything you want baby, alright?" He hands you his card and kisses you on the lips, loving to see you so giddy and excited.
You end up getting a hair cut, new layers and a new fresh color, not too drastic of a change but noticable enough to make you feel so much better. Your hair looks amazing, it always does leaving the hairdresser, so smooth and healthy, bouncy and they always give you the perfect blow-out. You already feel confident walking over to Rafes car.
"Hey there," he mumbles and hands you a cup of coffee that he got you on his way here and wraps a strand of your hair on his finger, smirking. He's so wrapping your new hair around his hand tonight... "lookin' gorgeous," he mumbles and you lean in to give him a kiss.
"Thank you, Rafey." "Mhm," he mumbles and pulls you closer, making out with you for a worth while.
He finally pulls away after a moment, his lips all puffy from how much you kissed him, and he runs his hand through your hair, not able to stop touching it. "Wanna get your nails done?" He asks, ready to provide anything you want today.
"Yeah," you blush, still a bit shy to ask for something from him. "Wanna pick the color for me?" "Mhm, sure." He taps your thigh when he starts driving, thinking about it for a moment.
"Blue?" "I knew it," you chuckle. "How?" "Guys always pick blue," you giggle again and he frowns, not happy with that. He won't be like guys, so he grunts and suggests red and white, proud of himself that he picked two colors. He loves you in red anyway. Fuck blue.
Rafe tells you to go ahead and that he'll be there before you're done.
You are treated so nicely at the salon, the guy doing your nails offers you wine, the place smells so nice, clearly luxurious, their chairs are covered in red velvet, comfy. You are almost done with your set when Rafe walks in, a little bag in his hand, walking over to you and looking at your nails over your shoulder, kissing the top of your head and wrapping his arm around your shoulders, holding you and allowing you to rest your chin on his arm as you to lean into him, clearly getting the need to show off that you're his girlfriend the second he saw the guy.
"You like them?" You look up at him and show him your free hand, Rafe kisses your knuckles gently, avoiding the fresh nail polish. "Mhm, love them baby." He whispers and you notice the man doing your nails straightening. Rafe stays there like a guard dog, his arm wrapped around your neck and shoulders the entire time.
He pays for you, holding your hand and brushing his thumb over your knuckles as you both leave.
"What'cha got there?" You giggle, leaning over him to steal a look at the bag but he shushes you and pulls you away by your waist, his grip so firm it sends shivers down your spine. "Don't be noisy," he smirks and you scoff, which earns you a squeeze on your hip.
The sun is setting when he leads you to his car again, you smile and just pull on his hand. "Rafe," you stop him for a second and he turns around, worry evident in his eyes. "Yeah? What's wrong?" His hand cups your face immediately and you just admire how pretty he looks in the golden hour.
"Nothin’, just... thank you." You smile up at him and he grins, pulling you closer. "Anytime, princess." He purrs softly and leans down to kiss you. You once again make out for a while, his hands roaming your hips and yours wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer to you.
He wanted to wait a little, but you also look stunning to him right now, looking up at him with your big eyes like he’s your entire world, so he rolls his eyes playfully and offers you the bag, kissing your forehead. “Open it.”
“For me?” You place your hand on your chest dramatically and he bites your cheek in return, eager for you to open his gift.
You pull out the small box, opening it and you stare at the silver bracelet covered in gems and heart detailing. “It’s… wow,” you breathe out, taking it into your hand and taking a proper look, some of the diamonds reflecting the sun.
Rafe smiles and gently takes it from your hand to put it around your wrist, taking a look at it in the sun himself once he does so. “Thank you, baby.” You finally say, looking up at him with watery eyes. What did you ever do to deserve him?
“I love you,” he huffs and leans in for another kiss, this one gentle, soft, slow. You kiss him back, holding his face between your hands.
“I love you too. So, so much.” And Rafe’s just happy to hear that, happy to be the provider and to be appreciated for it. It’s all he needs back from you.
You don't ask him for anything else, but you notice that he's driving in a different direction than Tannyhill. “Where are we going?" You ask as you lean into the seat.
"Gettin' you new clothes, baby," he mumbles as if that's the most obvious thing in the world and you want to refuse but he gives you this look that clearly indicates his mind is already made up and you're not doing anything about it.
You walked around the mall, trying all sorts of skirts and dresses, and Rafe followed behind you, usually dragging you into the more expensive stores 'cause you wouldn't go there yourself.
He got you some tops and skirts but you were still looking for a dress you’d like enough.
He liked you in anything, so he said you should get whatever you were currently trying on, but you just chuckled and said no. He honestly loved it, what a great idea to have a treating my favorite person in the world day, he could just sit down and stare at your body over and over again as you tried on different stuff.
"I love this," he mumbled as he got up, not resisting the urge to wrap his hands around you when you tried on a tight velvet dress with a slit at your thigh, "you look so fucking hot," he exhaled and kissed your neck gently, nibbling and brushing his teeth against your skin.
"Mhm," you arched your back, leaning into him and he let out a quiet groan. "We're gettin’ this one." He decided and you giggled, nodding, taking it off, but Rafe stepped in front of you. "Wait, lemme help," he mumbled, eager to get it off you later again. He helped you strip, grabbed the dress and another sun dress you tried on earlier that he loved as well.
You wrapped your hand around his bicep, yawning when you finally left the mall and made your way over to his car for the last time today. Rafe chuckled and placed your bags in his car before opening the door for you. "Tired from doin' nothin', baby?" He teased you and leaned over the car door to kiss you before you got in.
"Tryin’ on clothes is exhausting, you know?" You joked back and he grinned.
"Wanted to take you to dinner, but—“ "Rafe I'm really tired," you said softly, still grateful for the thought.
"I know, me too," he grabbed your hand into his. "We'll grab food on our way, yeah? What are you feelin'?”
"Dunno," you mumbled and closed your eyes, your hand playing with his fingers. "Chinese?" "Alright," he agreed and grabbed the food in a drive through and finally drove you both back to Tannyhill.
You both sat down on a couch to eat and let some random sitcom play in the background. The second you both finished your food you were on his lap, straddling him, kissing him passionately and running your new nails over his skin, feeling how he shivered under your touch.
"Thanks, Rafey," you said again, grateful that he made you feel so loved. "Anything for you, m'lady, okay?"
You chuckled at the nickname, kissing him again, running your nails over his chest and tugging at his shirt, earning a groan from him.
#outer banks#drew starkey#rafe cameron#obx#outer banks rafe#outer banks x reader#rafe outer banks#drew starkey x reader#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron imagines#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron fluff#rafe obx#rafe x you#drew starkey x you#rafe cameron scenario#rafe cameron scenarios#rafe x reader#rafe cameron headcanons
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˖ ࣪ ، ◞ せ ⌇ DRESS UP DOLL. featuring s. gojo.
↻ satoru gojo loves two things ; money, and playing dress up with his favourite girl.
tags : lingerie, daddy kink, light praise, creampie, possessive behaviour, spanking, light choking, hickeys, overstimulation (if you squint) // wc. 0.8k
author’s note : the first event work !! thank you for all the love you gave to the masterlist post, and i really hope n pray none of these works disappoint. love you all, notes n reblogs are appreciated <3
this work is NSFW. minors and ageless blogs DO NOT INTERACT.
GOJO loves playing dress up. he has a whole wardrobe in his penthouse apartment filled to the brim with pretty dresses and matching designer purses, along with classy two piece suits and a shoe collection costing a decade’s worth of the minimum wage salary.
he’s proud of his clothing collection, but he’s more proud of the beautiful girl who gets to experience this lush and lavish collection of expensive designer clothing, his own dress up doll who he makes sure looks nice and pretty just for him.
tonight, he’s decided he won’t take you out for a date in the city. he could’ve called his driver, had you dressed in his favourite silk bodycon and sat in a tri-michelin star restaurant in under an hour, but satoru gojo doesn’t feel like sharing his special doll with the eyes of the commonfolk. no, tonight, he’s had you stay in, and he’s still managed to play dress up all the same, but this particular outfit is reserved for his eyes only.
“turn around for me, doll. wanna see that cute little ass of yours in that thong.” you turn yourself on his king size bed and bend over forwards, teeth digging into your bottom lip as he runs a slender finger just along the hem of your lace panties and under the elastic garter. “you like this set?”
“yes, daddy,” you respond, back arching and hips swaying when he snaps the elastic back onto your thigh. “it’s my favourite.”
gojo smiles. “you said this about the one I bought you last week, angel. maybe you just like spending my money.” he doesn’t take offence to the fact that so much of his funds are spent on you. in fact, he’s happy that he’s the one that gets to spoil you rotten, because no other common guy out there could give you even half of what he has.
“i want you to keep this on, okay?” his voice lowers to a soft croon, his large hands scoping the planes of your soft flesh before coming down hard, leaving slightly reddened palm marks against your skin. you nod shakily, and he smiles, toying with the belt on his pants before finally pulling them down to his thighs, along with his boxers to reveal his erect length.
even as he pushes the seat of your panties aside and teases your dripping hole with his tip, gojo can’t help but lament on how god damn pretty you are. your face being buried in the pillows causes your back to arch deliciously, and the way you groan when he slides all the way in has him fighting the urge to cum right then and there.
“you’re killin’ me, doll,” he groans, large hands moving from your ass to your hips, pulling you back on his length. “so fuckin’ pretty, and all mine, right?” you nod helplessly, fingers curling in the sheets when you feel his tip press up against your cervix.
“ ‘n you look so gorgeous in this set, doll. almost like it was made for me to buy it for you, huh?” he wants to ruin you. he wants to tear the lace right off of your back, leave it in tatters on the floor like a child tossing away wrapping paper on christmas day. but he won’t, because it cost him a sweet buck, and he actually likes the way you look in it.
from his position behind you, gojo drinks in the view of the bra clasp straining against your back, and the sight of your breasts pressing against the mattress through the lace, no doubt providing your nipples with delicious friction. his hand slides up to your shoulder and around your neck, pulling you up against his chest.
“mine,” he borderline growls in your ear, hips snapping brutally against your ass repeatedly. “you’re mine, doll. who do you belong to?”
“you, daddy!” tears stream from your eyes as his lips latch onto your neck, teeth grazing your pulse as you feel an all too familiar warm fluid being pumped into your spent cunt. your walls tighten, and suddenly you’re falling over the edge too, twitching in gojo’s grasp as you finally find your climax.
in your lust-drunken haze, you flop back onto the mattress, ass still up and folds leaking with cum as you huff into the pillows. gojo finally slides out, a low whistle sounding from his lips at the sight of you, still clad in your expensive lace as his release drips between your thighs. before it can reach the garter strap, he swipes it up with his fingers and pushes it back inside, smiling when he feels you begin to tremble.
“don’t worry, doll. i just wanted to make sure we don’t get my new favourite set dirty.”
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© choslut — do not copy, repost or translate my works without permission.
#jujutsu kaisen#satoru gojo#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut
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Children |Naruto Men X fem!Reader| HC
Characters: Naruto Uzumaki, Sasuke Uchiha, Shikamaru Nara, Kakashi Hatake, and Madara Uchiha.
Summary: How many kids they have and how they are with them.
Warnings: Fem reader. Mentions of pregnancy. Mentions of kids.
Masterlist Ko-fi
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Naruto Uzumaki
You already knew Naruto had been dreaming of a family for a long time, so when you got your first positive test, you knew it'd go over well.
He was ecstatic to say the least.
He'd coddle you all throughout the pregnancy and as you healed.
Fatherhood was a dream come true. Nothing could make him happier than his little girl.
Except for the second kid.
And the third.
And fourth.
And at that point, you only stopped reproducing because a fifth kid had quickly become your worst nightmare.
All of his offspring, three girls and a boy, had gotten his energy. You chased everyone around the house every single day, and it was exhausting.
Of course, he helped out when he wasn't busy being hokage, but still.
Four was enough... for you.
Sasuke Uchiha
He'd never really put much thought into how many kids he wanted.
Yeah, he wanted to restore his clan, but he kinda forgot that meant HE had to restore his clan.
Your first child, a daughter, was nearing two years old when you'd gotten pregnant once more.
This sparked a conversation about exactly how big of a family he wanted.
Your first child was an angel, really. Calm, quiet, smart, brave, and so much more. If like would be like this, he'd have a hundred.
But damn that second kid was a 180°. If it weren't for the dark hair and eyes, he would swear he was Naruto's son, not his. So much energy.
After that, he'd decided two was more than enough.
He's content with his tight-knit family. (More so content with the idea of less chaos).
Shikamaru Nara
Definition of one and done.
The pregnancy was planned, and he loves his son, but he was perfectly content with how things were.
He checked in with you every now and then to make sure you were content with only one kid, but you assured him every time that he was more than enough.
Besides, only one kid meant that you could give all of your time and energy to him and his needs without worry.
Kakashi Hatake
One and done as well.
Initially, he never wanted kids, but you were already pregnant despite careful measures, so there wasn't much to be done.
A few months later, a little silver haired girl is born.
The second he saw her it was love at first sight.
He loves his daughter. She's literally his whole entire world, and he spoils her absolutely rotten.
He's super protective. Not really a surprise, but it's definitely worth a mention.
Madara Uchiha
It was normal for people on his clan to have a lot of kids. It was the only way to guarantee a future generation due to the war.
When the time came for him and his wife to start thinking about children, he suddenly realized he didn't have to have a billion children.
The war was over and there was peace, so surely there was no need?
It was a mutual decision to have just one child, so that's what you planned on.
Until you suddenly had twins; two boys.
There goes that idea.
Maybe it was his bodies way of telling him he needed more. Uchiha breeding and what-not.
A while later, you had the urge for another baby, and after a long discussion, he agreed it's what he wanted as well.
But again, you had twins, and again, it was two boys.
He called it quits after that. Fuck whatever hyper fertility nonsense you had going on.
He cares deeply for his sons, but he doesn't want to live in a world where he could potentially have yet another pair of babies to look after.
#naruto uzumaki x reader#naruto x reader#naruto headcanons#naruto shippuden#naruto#shikamaru x you#shikamaru x reader#shikamaru nara#madara uchiha x reader#madara x reader#madara uchiha#kakashi hatake x reader#kakashi hatake x you#kakashi hatake#sasuke uchiha x you#sasuke uchiha x reader#sasuke x reader#sasuke uchiha#naruto fluff
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Sins of The Flesh II
Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC [Riley]
Wordcount: 3,000+
Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, Alternate Universe (Mike Is Alive), P in V, Spanking Aftermath, Mentions of Heaven/Hell, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Absolute Filth, Breeding Kink, Oral (Female Receiving)
A/N: Part One should be read first. Divider by fireflygraphics. I'm kind of embarrassed, but not really because y'all are nasty too.
“I want grits with a salmon croquette and chicken sausage. Can you get me a strawberry lemonade too? Their lemonade is amazing.”
Riley lay on her stomach in bed, facing Terry, who was propped up against the headboard, cell phone in hand. He rubbed between her shoulder blades, his touch gentle and soothing as he dialed up the brunch restaurant. Freshly bathed and wrapped up in one of his Marines T-shirts, she felt almost like she was floating. Having Terry there, being so attentive and caring, was exactly what she needed after their time apart.
“You want a side of bacon, too?” he asked, eyeing her with a raised brow. He knew her too well—she always said no, but then asked for some of his when the food arrived. “No, I don't need that much. Just a little bit.” She pinched her fingers together, mimicking a tiny portion.
“I’ll just have some of yours. You’ll share, right, baby?” She reached over lazily to rub his forearm, her fingers caressing the scar above his wrist. His expression softened as he gazed into her sweet brown eyes. She was so mesmerizing without even trying.
“Of course. Whatever you want,” he said, placing the order without the bacon but adding on an order of beignets. They were her guilty pleasure and he enjoyed tasting the powdered sugar that lingered on her lips afterward.
He tossed his phone aside after learning the total. “It’ll be here in an hour.”
“An hour?” she sighed deeply, “I’m going to starve by then.” After church hunger hit differently, and his spanking had drained her energy even more. She needed a nap and a big hearty meal to recover.
“You’ll be a’ight,” he grinned, shaking his head slightly as he laughed. "As soon as you take that first bite, you'll be saying it was worth the wait." Riley erupted into laughter, surprised at how predictable she really was. “Quit acting like you got me all figured out,” she giggled, tracing the lines of his palms with her fingers. “Today could be different, you never know.”
“You say that every week, babe.”
“I could change my mind,” she insisted, coming up with all kinds of scenarios—like missing chicken sausage or a plain lemonade that would throw her whole day off. The beignets could arrive soggy or without enough powdered sugar.
"You just talkin' to be talkin', huh?" He cut her off, tickling her sides until she was shrieking and wiggling away from him. She swatted at his hands, enjoying the lightness of the moment and teasing him back, “You know you love when I run my mouth.”
“You got a gift for keeping things interesting, that’s for sure.” He admitted, gaze drawn to her backside as her legs kicked up playfully behind her. The moments when it felt like it was just the two of them in the entire world with nothing else to worry about were her favorite.
“See? I knew you liked all this mouth.”
“Yeah, but that mouth is what keeps getting you into trouble, too.” He reminded her with a gentle kiss, his hands sliding down to her waist. Riley smiled up at him, bright and beautiful, and he knew he couldn’t deny her anything. Her parents had spoiled their only child, and Terry nurtured that spirit, indulging her in every way. She’d run all over him if he let her, which is why their little “checks and balances” system was necessary.
"Let me see what we’re working with," He tugged her closer by her arms, brushing off her protests as he lifted the oversized T-shirt to her waist, eager to examine his handiwork. She’d soaked in an oatmeal bath for half an hour, but her butt was still welted, bearing the marks of his handprints.
"Damn, baby, I really did a number on you."
Riley propped herself up on her elbows. "I'm fine," she assured him softly. "I needed it." The release had allowed her to shed the tension that had built up over the past week, though her body was still aching.
“Let me go ahead and put some cream on that for you,” he insisted.
Earlier, she'd brushed off his offer, insisting it hurt too much and that waiting until after her bath would be best. She groaned, realizing she couldn’t avoid it any longer. Terry was all about that aftercare—always checking to make sure she was genuinely okay. He reached into the bedside drawer, pulled out the tube of homemade cream—a mix of shea butter and aloe vera gel—and then settled in behind her.
He knelt on his haunches, positioned between her legs while she buried her face in the sheets. She heard the cap pop open, followed by the sound of his hands rubbing together to warm the cream.
She hissed as he began to work magic, his touch gentle but precise.
Her eyes were tightly shut, but she could easily picture his arms flexing as he kneaded her skin. He was as skilled as any professional massage therapist. She never questioned where he’d learned that skill or how he’d perfected it. She preferred to remain ignorant. The thought of him using those hands on other women, touching them the same way, drove her up the wall.
That primal instinct constantly gnawed at her, igniting an ugly possessiveness she couldn’t rein in.
The last time they went on a dinner date, she was convinced the older woman at the table next to them was intentionally dropping her napkin just to get Terry to keep picking it up. That lady took every opportunity to touch his hands, leaning in way too close for comfort. It didn’t take all that just to say 'thank you'.
Afterward, she told him she never wanted to go back, pretending it was because the tables were too close together. The truth was, she felt too embarrassed to admit she was jealous of someone old enough to be her grandma for no good reason.
Then there were the young women who couldn’t resist trying their luck. The same girls she grew up with at church would ask, “Terry, can you bring my donations in for me? They’re so heavy. Terry, can you carry these cakes in? Terry, will you come out to the car and grab these cans of soda?”
They knew damn well they were dragging their own donations in before he started showing up. So she made it a point to lag behind on Sunday mornings. They wouldn’t be late, but they also wouldn’t arrive early enough for anyone to take advantage.
And don’t get her started on the women at the grocery store; they were the absolute worst!
They’d whisper and watch Terry as he walked through the aisles. He’d bend down and reach for everything Riley pointed out, completely oblivious to their lingering. They clustered around when he loaded up the cart with water. It drove her so crazy that she eventually started ordering her groceries for pickup, insisting he unload them at home.
All that fine was for her eyes only.
Gradually, the burning sting began to subside. What had felt like a raging fire now simmered down to a dull, tender ache. “Feel better?” he asked, kissing the back of her neck. “Mhm,” she hummed lazily, on the verge of falling asleep.
“Yes. Thank you.”
He bent down and placed a soft kiss on her cheek. “I'm supposed to look after you. You don’t need to thank me for that.” She had a way of bringing out his softer side, making him feel more tender than he ever planned to be. “You had it coming, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel bad about it.”
“I told you I’m fine, baby.”
"Doesn't mean I can't kiss it better."
She bit her lip, wishing he would finally grant her the one request she’d been making all day. The waiting felt like a tightrope walk—teetering on the edge of cruel and unusual punishment.
“But I gotta make sure I’ve got all my bases covered first," he said as he helped her onto her hands and knees, applying gentle pressure to her back until she arched.
Slivers of light filtered through the closed blinds, bouncing off her moisturized, glossy skin. He watched, enthralled, as her hips swayed back and forth, fueled by all that pent-up energy. He couldn’t look away from the swollen, soft pink.
"Yeah, I’mma make it all better with a kiss." He pledged, carefully using both of his hands to part her open before pressing a gentle kiss against her slit. She panted, heart racing as he kissed her pussy the same way he kissed her lips—slow and sensual, taking his sweet time before sliding his tongue in.
He teased her with his words in between.
"You always taste so good."
"I missed this pussy while I was away."
"It's all I could think about."
"Such a sweet girl, baby."
Riley jolted forward, squealing in surprise when the tip of his tongue brushed her sensitive clit. “Don’t move,” He instructed sternly, grabbing hold of the back of her thighs. His tongue lavished her wet pussy as she squirmed; warm, wet, methodical, and engineered to drive her wild. Terry was such a fucking menace.
"Wait a second, baby," She tried to gather herself, groaning and shifting her hips, as if another moment would make his teasing any easier to endure. She bit her lip to stifle her sounds, but he wasn't having that. Terry wrapped his arms under her legs until he had her firmly secured.
"What did I say?" She struggled against his grip but found it was iron-tight. "Don't run from me," He warned like he didn't already have her pinned down and at his mercy.
He took full advantage of her vulnerable position, zeroing in on her puffy clit, sucking, licking, and devouring her like a starved man. She clawed at his hands, but it was useless.
“Oh God!" She gasped, convinced he was one of the devil’s soldiers, sent to torment and steal her soul. Nothing else made sense. She’d never met a man so skilled and deliberate in driving her insane.
“You good, baby?” She heard the smirk in his voice, certain that this was some new form of torture. The only time she caught a break was when he took a second to breathe, and even then, he was right back at it, pushing her limits all over again. His mouth was even more skilled than his hands, working her over soft and deliberate until she was trembling.
Terry was indeed a fucking menace, but she was his willing prey, moaning that it was too much while pushing her hips back for more. Her essence dripped onto his tongue and down his chin, sweet and sticky like ripe mango.
"I'm gonna come!" She wailed, grinding against his face.
Terry pawed at her butt, a surge of aggression washing over him. It took everything not to spank her ass some more. He stuffed his face where she wanted it, letting her ride his tongue until she creamed all over it.
“Shit!” she screamed, collapsing forward as her hips jerked uncontrollably.
The sound of his shorts falling to the floor faded into the background as blood rushed to her ears, drowning out everything else. Before she realized it, he flipped her onto her back, placing one pillow under her head and another beneath her back to ease the pressure on her bottom. He lifted her hips, positioning himself to slide between her legs.
The tip of his dick leaked as he stroked it, grunting softly as he tried to mentally prepare for the tight fit. Her pussy was still clenching down on nothing, hungry for something more.
“Come ‘ere,” Riley urged, pulling him down to her lips for a deep kiss and moaning wantonly as she tasted herself. She wrapped her arms and legs tight around Terry’s large frame, grinding down against his hard dick. Her chest felt tight with emotions that were too intense.
I love you to death. You mean everything to me. I need you.
Terry could ask her to do just anything in that moment, and she’d say yes without a second thought. She’d agree to have ten children if that's what he wanted. She wanted a permanent connection, something to bind them together forever—a family of their own.
"You ready for more, pretty girl?"
"I'll take whatever you give me," She promised softly, laser-focused on his big dick as he teased at her entrance. She was fatigued, but finally getting what she had been fantasizing about all week. Deep brown skin, mesmerizing hazel eyes, and a strong, muscular build that could surround her completely.
Her face contorted, brows furrowed and mouth agape as he pushed in. Terry pressed his face into her neck, letting out a soft groan as she ran her fingers soothingly along his back. "I love you," she confessed, unable to contain the emotion any longer as he began to move his hips.
Terry could barely think straight with her squeezing him so tightly, but he managed to work up to a steady rhythm, gently pushing and pulling until he was fully sheathed inside her. Riley gripped his arms for dear life as he occupied every inch of her.
“Can’t believe you thought I was giving this to somebody else,” He let out a loud grunt, thrusting deep. "I already got my hands full with you, baby."
Riley was his own little slice of heaven, perfectly crafted just for him. He never imagined he could love someone so deeply that being apart from her felt like he was missing a limb. As he slipped into her, he remembered how she had accused him of cheating when she was the only thing on his mind. Her sweet magnolia scent and those beautiful brown eyes—she was his master, and she didn’t even realize it.
"Fuck me," She ordered with the urgency of a drill sergeant, grabbing his ass and pushing him deeper. She wanted him buried inside of her. “That feels so good.” She growled out.
“Keep fucking me, just like that.”
"Fuck this tight pussy, Daddy.”
“I missed this dick so fucking much.”
“I’ve been thinking about it everyday.”
She didn’t usually speak that way, but something was taking over her, making the vulgar words spill from her lips effortlessly.
It had taken all his restraint not to give in to her earlier, but it was worth it for this moment. The way her heat molded around him, fitting him perfectly as she clung to him, desperate and wanton.
“You’re being so rough with me, baby!” she exclaimed, though there was no hint of complaint. Terry was manhandling her like a ragdoll, and she loved every second of it. Watching such a disciplined man lose control over her was exhilarating.
Terry tried to restrain his darker urges around her, but she was so beautiful when she cried. It only fueled his hunger, driving him to be even more aggressive. She clawed at his back, yelling out when his balls smacked her tender ass.
“I wanna have your baby, Daddy.” Riley confessed with tears in her eyes. She knew she had to be losing her mind, but she meant every word.
Terry’s hips faltered. “What did you just say?”
“I want to give you a baby. I want us to have a baby together. Can we, please?”
Every conversation they’d had about having children had ultimately come down to the understanding that they needed to be married first before starting a family. The pullout method, however dangerous, had worked for them thus far. He couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth, but she knew exactly what to say to get what she wanted out of him. "I want to be the one to give you a baby, Daddy. The only one.”
Terry cursed, struggling to keep his composure. His own mind was foggy with love and lust. Her parents would be furious if he got her pregnant before marriage, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. They could go ring shopping tomorrow and then apply for the marriage license right after. It was just paperwork—he already knew how he felt.
“You for real?” He imagined her big and round, pregnant and filled with his child. Relying on him to help her tie her shoes or assemble a crib for their child.
"Yes!" she replied eagerly, her eyes shining with desire.
“You want me to make you a mommy?”
“Yes, I’m ready to have all your babies, Daddy.” Babies? She always had to take it a step further. The bare minimum was never enough for her. She was utterly spoiled, and their children would undoubtedly be the same.
“How am I supposed to turn you down when you ask so sweet?” Terry leaned in closer, his breath warm against her neck as he let out a low growl. “If you want my baby, you’re gonna have to be a really good girl and keep that pussy open for me.”
“If you keep giving it to me good, I’ll give you what you want.”
“I’ll cum deep in that creamy pussy and give you a baby.”
She was so wet that everything felt slick, her brown eyes glazed over with desire. He knew he should try to be the responsible one, but all he could think about was filling her womb and giving her the beautiful baby she was begging him for. “Tell me you’re mine,” he says, gripping her neck firmly, leaving her breathless.
“I-," The doorbell rings, and it takes her a few moments to process the sound. Terry doesn’t stop, sweat dripping down his face and onto her skin, mixing with hers. It’s as if he’s in a trance, unable to concentrate on anything but his mission.
“Oh my God,” she cries, pushing at his firm stomach for when he strikes a particularly sensitive spot inside of her. Terry forced her up the bed with each powerful motion of his hips, fucking her harder and deeper than he ever had before.
“Relax. It's probably the food," He crooned, brushing her hands aside. "I’ll get it, but I need to give you my baby first.”
“Oh my God,” She braced herself as the pressure built in her belly. Terry was driving himself deep and hard in her pussy like he had a point to prove. He really wanted that baby. With her eyes closed shut, Riley surrendered, pinching and pulling on her nipples until she was soaking Terry and the sheets beneath them. He held her down, ensuring she couldn’t escape as he flooded her with cum.
“Oh my god,” she repeated incessantly, like a broken record. All of his weight settled on top of her, their foreheads touching. She gazed into his eyes, the realization of what they had just done beginning to sink in. She didn’t have any regrets; she was eager to claim him as hers forever. Excited to nurture a child who represented the best of each of them.
Terry leaned in, capturing her lips in a passionate kiss that lingered as if he were trying to memorize the taste of her. When he finally pulled away, it was with reluctance, his gaze locked on hers. He couldn’t find any hint of regret in her eyes, and he certainly didn’t have any himself.
"Thank you, Daddy." She cooed, reaching down to stroke her clit. He watched, entranced as their slick oozed out of her. It felt like he was hardwired for it, instinctively wanting to fill her up again and push in deep. “Whatever happens next, I’m gonna take care of you.” He vowed, his warm hand pressing gently on her belly. He silently prayed for a favorable outcome, hoping it would lead to a little baby in the next ten months.
She brushed the sweat from his forehead with the back of her hand. “I know. I love you and trust you completely. I really want us to be a family.”
“We will be,” he said with a conviction that tugged at her heartstrings.
The doorbell rang again.
“The food,” she reminded him, gently pushing him back before they got too caught up in the moment. She needed a moment to catch her breath anyway. The tension between them was smoldering.
He cursed under his breath as he reluctantly pulled away, picking up his shorts from the floor and then his wallet from the dresser. She heard the faint sound of the door alarm as the front door opened, followed by quiet voices conversing while she stared up at the ceiling.
Her heavy eyelids fluttered shut. There was no way she'd be able to go to work in the morning.
Terry eventually shuffled back into the room, holding the tied bag in his large hands like a prized catch. “Come on. Let’s put something else in your belly before you knock out on me.”
Thoughts? Lol 😂
Tagging the people who asked for a second installment:
@sageispunk @avoidthings @megamindsecretlair @planetblaque
#terry richmond#terry richmond x black oc#terry richmond x black!oc#terry richmond x black reader#terry richmond x black!reader#rebel ridge#rebel ridge fanfiction
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The Reward — Coriolanus Snow ♡
⇢☾Warning: NSFW | pinv sex, mirror sex-ish if you squint, dub con if you squint, overstimulation if you squint, face riding, creampie, cunnilingus, unprotected sex (wrap it dumbfucks), snow is his own warming, dom sub undertones, reader has ear piercings, degradation, hints of a toxic relationship, impact play (spanks your ass a few times), dumbfication if you squint, low-key soft! Snow in the beginning | lmk if I forgot anything!
⇢☾Pairing: young president Coriolanus Snow! x fem! Reader
⇢☾Summary: Coriolanus Snow gives you a reward by being gentle af and then by being a mean animal (kinda) dnsjsk🤭
⇢☾A/N: it's 3:00 am and i need to sleep, i thought about Snow taking off my heels after a gala and this was born <3
< arranged marriage m.list > < tag list > < masterlist >
Coriolanus Snow was a gentleman but he wasn't gentle. Perhaps this was an alternative universe, a fever dream but you couldn't believe what was happening right now in front of your eyes. Your pupils were in shock, your palms were sweating as you continued to take in the sight.
The sight of Snow being on his knees as he unclasps the belts of your uncomfortable heels. You swallow, “Coryo, you don't have to” but his head tilts up and his eyes are still his. Blue, cold, empty, and never ending like the ocean. A calmness washed over you, the look in his eyes proof enough that this was one of his many tricks to keep you satisfied and happy and you have to indulge him in it.
So you let him gently take off your shoes and set them aside. You await his further actions and let out a soft, small moan as his lips pressed to one of your knees. His mouth keeps pressing wet kisses up to your upper thigh, leaving behind a trail of his saliva on your skin.
This was a reward. Coriolanus was so proud of his pretty and smart wife today. You behaved accordingly in the gala tonight, letting him take the credit for your ideas. You understood your duties and that's why this is one of the few times Coryo will ever kneel for or be this gentle. It's a thank you he can't voice so he does it by his actions.
His lips find themselves kissing inside your inner thigh now, gently nipping the skin as you let out needy mewls. He could see the wet spot forming in your panties and felt the usual pride in his mind bloom. Only he could have you wet so easily and damn, if that didn't skyrocket his ego.
He kissed the wet spot, the juices now glistening onto his pink lips and he pulled back. You whimper as he does, and he wants to coo at you and tease you for being a greedy pet. But he doesn't, it's a reward after all.
He stood up and pressed a kiss to your forehead before his hand grabbed the box of make-up wipes. You still hadn't said a word, letting him do his thing. He gently wiped the makeup off your face, clearing you of the chemicals he hated but you had to apply them to stay in fashion.
His fingers then gently take off the earrings you had worn, and then one by one all the rings you had except the wedding ring of course. His touch had lingered during all of those actions, making your body heat up and your panties soaked. Soft sighs escape you as he continues to adore you in such a gentle manner. As if you're made of the most precious diamond but easily breakable without care.
That's what he might have thought of you. So damn important to his sanity but any action of yours can damn him to hell. A risk, a liability to everything he has. But in his mind, you're worth it all and he has done every single scenario where things can go wrong, so many sleepless nights dedicated to these thoughts.
Snow lands on top.
Nothing you can do can mess him up, nothing. He makes sure of it with his every living breath. It's the reason he can spoil you like this, be a deserving man to his wife otherwise Coriolanus Snow is a monster (and you know that and accept him anyway).
He unzips your dress, his lips now pressing a heated kiss to your nape as his fingertips trace your bare skin. His touch was cold as ice, the heat of your body cooling down to his touch. It gave you relief momentarily but it was clear that you wanted more. The whimper that left your mind as he unclasped your bra was enough proof of that.
With your breasts set free from their confines, Corio’s hands begin to knead your soft tits. His eyes look into the mirror as he watches himself message your soft breasts, his fingers pinching your nipples making the sensitive pebbles hard. He rolls the buds, playing with them until you moan, your body flushing with lust in your veins. You begin to rub your thighs, getting desperate for any sort of friction but you force yourself to stop as he tsks near your ear.
“Don't, doll,” he whispered as one of his hands began the journey of going down on your body, the heat of his palm onto your tummy and then so close to your clothed pussy. “Spread,” he commands and you follow without embarrassment or hesitation.
Your soaked panties come into your view through the mirror and you want to look away from the shyness you still had but didn't. Instead, a whine escapes your lips that makes Coriolanus chuckle. “Such a needy pet. I will take care of you, darling. No need to worry.”
You moan as he refers to you as darling for the first time. Your cunt clenching desperately around nothing as your mind gets dizzy. There was something about how he had said it. Soft and warm, his voice dipping a bit lower as he pronounced the letters and it was tinged with a feeling he wouldn't associate himself with.
Love.
You whimper, “Please” and he hushes you as his fingers snap the band of your panties before he dips a single finger onto your wet folds. He smirks, his face looking into the mirror to gaze into your glazed eyes. “Pathetic,” he muttered and you didn't bother to take offense, his words turning you on as much as his finger circling on your clit was.
A broken moan escapes as his fingers decide to pinch the sensitive nub, and he coats his fingers with your juices. A string of sticky white cream on his digits as he takes his hand out of your panties and places his covered fingers inside the wet carven of his mouth. He expertly sucks clean of his fingers, popping them out of his mouth with an obscene sound.
He smirks to himself as he relishes the taste of you. His. Just his you were. He leaves you there, alone on the chair as he walks to the bed. He wasn't wearing anything except for his pants. His suit and shirt were taken off earlier.
You waited for his further command as he got himself comfortable on the bed. “Come here,” he said and you listen. You take off your wet panties and let them stay ruined on the floor as you practically crawl to Coryo. You straddle him and wait some more.
He doesn't say anything, his face blank but his sky-blue eyes heated. His hands were on your hips, his fingers digging into the flesh there, making sure to grip you tight enough to mark you.
His tongue comes out to wet his rather dried lips. Your breath hitches as you see it and the sight of you being so affected by such a simple action made him feel like a. . . Lord.
He doesn't say anything, but did he need to? You knew him all too well, so you don't question yourself as you begin to move. The new position had you gripping the headboard while his hands shamelessly groped your ass, even occasionally giving small sharp slaps onto the flesh, making it red. It was simply another way of marking you.
Meanwhile, your eyes were closed, your mind forgetting about the existence of reality as his hot breath hit your glistening folds and made you quiver. “Go ahead,” he permits you.
Not even a second later, you begin to ride his face. He groans as his lips meet with your cunt. His tongue begins with broad, messy strokes of your pussy, gathering as much as your juices possible. All the while your eyes roll back and you moan. A sharp slap on the flesh of your ass has you grinding yourself onto his face. His nose nudged your sensitive, swollen clit perfectly as his tongue continued to swirl and flick around your cunt with calculated broad strokes that made you whine his name.
Soon his mouth finds your clit and begins to relentlessly suck your bundle of nerves. You cry out, pleading that this is too much and you can't- can't take it! But your begging was unheard and your pleas turned into louder moans, whimpers for pleas, and more. His sucking gets harsher and the overstimulation makes your mind reel. The warmth that was gathering in your lower body begins to spread all over, turning your bones to jelly and your mind to nothing as you cum onto his face. The rolls of your hips slowly as he continues to lap at all the cream released and your pussy keeps on spasming.
Your mind wanted more so you decided to take more. You had understood this was a reward for being good. So you can be a bit bad for now. So despite his grunt of displeasure as you get off his face, you quickly find yourself getting rid of his remaining clothes.
His cock was hard, the red tip angry and gleaming with pre-cum that coated most of his length. The sight had you salivating. Coryo knew you were nothing more than a cockdrunk slut and he called you that, you feel yourself glow from his words, not finding the word even a little bit degrading.
“I love you,” you mumbled as you lowered yourself onto his cock with a wanton moan echoing through the room. He groans, “Fuck yourself good, pet. You're in charge of your pleasure tonight. Go ahead, dove.”
“Yes, Coryo,” you whine as you feel yourself full of his cock. You felt yourself squeezing his thick length, a gasp escaping you as you tried to get used to his cock without being prepped. A groan could be heard as he felt his dick getting squeezed by your wet, tight cunt.
He wants to fuck into you and he almost does. But Coriolanus Snow was a gentleman and a gentleman kept his word. Especially when he can see his wife looking so fucking pretty being fucked out from his cock merely twitching inside her walls.
“Begin,” he demands, his voice haughty and filled with lust but you weren't ready. However, you couldn't bring yourself to care. You begin to rock your hips, slowly at first, you let yourself savor the action of his cock grinding against every hidden pleasure spot inside of your cunt. You moan as your pussy takes his cock deeper until his tip is pressed right against your g-spot making you see stars. You begin to grind back and forth so he keeps hitting that spot, you begin to sweat, your thighs clenching, and you couldn't keep focus as pleasure feels your every vein and his cock making you dumb. Simple actions seemed impossible to you and you wanted to beg him to take over, to make you cum again and again until you were broken.
He was unaware of your turmoil, his eyes onto the sight where his cock meets with your cunt, the combined fluid of his pre-cum and your slick dripping down onto his skin. The sight was filthy and he loved it. He clenched his jaw, trying so hard to be a patient gentleman to his wife.
He treated this like a test against himself because he knew what you did to his self-control. You aren't going to win this, he's not going to let go. He will not fuck into you like an animal, he refused to.
But was it losing when you were out of it like this? As if you were truly nothing but a dumb slut who just needs to cum. He decided that this wasn't a loss, but a win. He was doing you a favor when his hips began to snap upwards, his cock thrusting inside of you faster than the pace you had set. It was a pity that he felt so that's why he went back to his words. He was in control of your pleasure and he always will be. Self-control had nothing to do with it, he told himself.
You scream out in pleasure as several spanks are delivered onto your ass, turning the flesh red. It was clear that you liked the sting because of how tightly your pussy suffocated his dick after each slap. ‘Fucking whore of a wife’, he thought. He doesn't voice his thoughts but merely grins at the sight of tears filling your eyes. His dick twitched, an indication of being close.
However, he had to make you cum on his cock first. His hips begin to rut in faster into you, his hands holding you down as he thrusts in faster and harder. His dick kissing all of your hidden spots you didn't even know existed, his cock was perfect.
All you could do was take and take the reward he was giving you. Tears of satisfaction fell down your cheeks and it nourished his pride. You begin to ramble as you get closer to the edge. You ramble about how perfect he is, how much you love him, and fuck you can't think- you can't think. He is perfect, perfect, perfect.
Each of your praises makes him fuck you harder, deeper, a thrust so deep that his cockhead kissed your cervix making you gasp from a hint of pain and a hundredfold of pleasure. You begin to cum, and he shallowly thrusts into your cunt as you ride out your high. Your pussy spasms continuously around his cock as you cry out from being overwhelmed.
“That's a good girl,” he coos at you, “that's my girl.” You whine, your mind unable to process his words. You couldn't even sit up anymore, your body falling onto his. He wraps his arms around you, caging you to him. “My perfect wife,” he whispered as he continues to fuck into you despite your protests of being too much.
He doesn't listen to your pleas, his reward for you ultimately was his cum. Now he can't stop until he finds release himself, otherwise, how would you get your gift, right?
So he continues and it doesn't take more than a few minutes to fuck his thick, hot load into your womb. You whimper as his cock slips out and sighs in relief. You were in his arms and will be so for the rest of the night.
Coriolanus Snow wondered briefly if you liked your reward if not, well you have full access to his credit cards.
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Crimson Lovers • KSJ
Pairing: Seokjin x reader
SUMMARY: “I'd spoil you rotten, put you in the nicest, most expensive clothing and I'd still have more to spend on you for an eternity.” Jin whispered into your lips like a promise. If it weren't for your lust addled mind, you'd believe him. “You like wealth, princess? I have plenty. My coven has a dragon, he'd spoil you rotten, he’d stop at nothing to give you everything you'd ever wanted.”
Or alternatively, your friend’s only solution to you being a broke college student with a family to feed is to attend a private feeding party where the most affluent vampires are in attendance to drink fresh blood in exchange for money and get yourself in trouble with the infamous Kim Coven.
Tags: Vampire! Seokjin, Half-Faerie! Reader, Mythical Creatures AU!, SMUT, Cunnilingus, Magic slick (Seokjin passed out from it lmao), Blood sucking(obvs), not beta read.
Words: 5.1k
I just found this one collecting dust in the vault so I decided to post it here since it'll be a shame if I don't post a 5k words worth work. Its supposed to be the first chapter for a mythical creatures and reincarnation au bts x reader story but I immediately hit a wall.
I'll prolly pick it up in the future idk.
• MASTERLIST •
__________
Never in your life have you ever thought a single sheet of paper could weigh so heavily in the palm of your hands like it holds the heaviness of your future.
Depending on your answer, it does.
The card was a vibrant crimson with a nice golden design of modest swirls as margins for the text that are colored in silver, the material no doubt expensive. It was an invitation to a private feeding after all, how could it look shabby when only a selected few are given the opportunity to attend?
By selecting a few, you meant people from affluent backgrounds and some unfortunate people desperate for money.
It was obvious what category you’d fall into.
If you were to attend the party.
“Stop staring at it like it offended your ancestors, I'm just suggesting it.”
Soomin, your friend since high school, says.
“Where did you even get this? You don't know any vampires, do you?”
She shrugs, leaning back into her armchair. “Got a few favours. You were complaining about needing money and thought I could use some of them.”
Scratching your head, you read the card's contents with careful apprehension.
“Relax, it's not enchanted to track where it goes. It's just a normal card, you know I wouldn't force you into something if safety wasn't guaranteed.”
Before leaving the herd to pursue college far from the safety of family wards, your mother had enchanted your accessories with aura suppressors and glamours to prevent people from knowing your heritage.
You were told of horrors of the inhabitants outside the plane, both mortals and supernaturals turning over every leaf in the forest just for a whiff of a faerie.
Your blood is as precious as its golden colour, said to restore even the weakest mortal on its deathbed to pristine condition with a mere drop and turn a half vampire’s miniscule powers into a bottomless pit of a royal pureblood.
Faeries live in constant danger and you'd be damned if you weren’t taught to overthink everything.
“It’s anonymous, they’ll have you wear a mask, don't overthink it too much. My aunt used to tell me ‘your body is an emergency fund, every part of you is profitable. You just need to know the right place.’ or in my case, a man.”
She says, wiggling her fingers in front of your face where a gigantic pink diamond glimmered under the light above you, an engagement ring from the werewolf she bagged from dancing haphazardly on a stranger one friday night.
It's her pride, being able to capture the attention of one of the country's most attractive bachelors. It gave her a confidence that soared so high in the skies, she had nudged the space terminal. You couldn't even blame her for thinking so, knowing you'd share the same sentiments if it were you.
But still, daring to wander around without the wards your mother has spent years of creating to keep you safe, it makes your stomach churn.
Placing the card and pushing it as far as you could, you lean back into the chair.
“I don't know… It's really risky.”
“I’m just suggesting here,” she sighs, sliding the paper back in front of you and patting it. “If all goes well, you wouldn't need to work overtime for a year at least.”
“You saying that only makes me overthink it even more.”
She rolls her eyes playfully.
You knew she was right and the prospect of not working for a year is tempting. But a part of you frowned at the thought of risking your safety for a couple of zeroes in your bank account. Pride is such a fickle thing, so easily threatened and dragged through the mud when desperation kicks in.
But what is Pride in the face of your mountainous pending bills?
Not to mention, your mother and little brother's living situation back in the province. Soobin needed new shoes for school, you've seen how well-worn it has been—if well-worn meant clumsily glued back soles onto the upper body for the nth time with shoelaces frizzled and pulled taut from being twisted into knots and years of washing.
Your barista and supermarket cashier job nor your mother's job as a saleslady in the wet market doesn't reward you enough to save for his shoe while trying to sustain both you and your family, you need more. Taking on another 9-5 job is far from the solution.
Grabbing the paper with a newfound heaviness in your body, you sighed. The address encrusted in silver stood out in the seas of crimson reds, rooting your eyes onto the text.
“You asked for my help and I offer this–this somewhat long term solution.”
“But what if someone tries to track my blood back to me?”
Your mother and brother are counting on you, her salary from selling in the market aren't enough for the both of them. If you were to disappear they would sink further than you all already are, Soobin would stop attending school in favour of working. The guilt from seeing your mother bend over her back to be able to put food on the table would kill him.
It's a burdening feeling you wouldn't wish upon him. He should only know to have fun, make friends, and experience life in high school like a normal teen would.
You can't afford to put yourself in danger.
“I’ll put my name on the list instead. I promise you that you'll be safe, you just need to find someone to feed on you and then you can go, easy money!”
Seeing the hesitance in your eyes, she continued.
“Sometimes you just need to live a little. There's rewards in risking, you know?”
But then again, nor can you afford new shoes for Soobin with your minimum wage jobs.
With a defeated sigh, you looked up to meet your friend's eyes.
“How should I dress?”
________
He should've known better than attending parties the prehistoric council members had invited him into, you'd think centuries of politics would render him immune to these tricky situations yet here he is, standing awkwardly in the middle of the meeting room while holding said invitation and a cocktail. The old geezer was already gone by the time he realised his mistake.
The envelope was a deep hue of red, a foretelling sign of what the party might be about.
It wasn't a shock when he saw the neatly imprinted silver text on the thick crimson paper telling him of a private feeding gathering for both the fortunate and the unfortunate on Saturday.
While being a vampire himself, he never had to feed on strangers when he had his coven to fill him up for the next month or so. His age has allowed him longer intervals between feeding and at this point, he has grown nonchalant with that aspect of his life.
Obviously, he should've ripped it to shreds and incinerated the damn thing.
But a voice whispered at the back of his, urging him to join the small gathering. A nagging feeling tugging at him and telling him he'd miss something important if he were to dismiss the invitation. Yet when asked why he went, he said it's to oversee the event undercover.
He could still feel the burning curious gaze of his brothers on his skin.
Which brings him to his current predicament, fighting off the urge to yawn from the absolute boredom caused by newbloods breaking their backs to impress potential business partners and blood donors.
He silently thanked whoever thought it was a good idea to have guests wear masks. There would've been heaps upon heaps of scandals if he were to be spotted in a feeding party, not to mention, the newbloods trying to peacock their way to being sponsored by the Kim Coven and from the rising irritation burning his back, he might shave off a huge number off the vampire population.
He couldn't remember the times he had done his route around the hall, trying to avoid people vying for a morsel of attention and trying his best to not stay still in one place for people to recognize him but he did know that if he were to go around once more, he's leaving once and for all.
Downing his last martini, he stood up.
Only for a dizzying scent to knock him back into his seat. It grabbed onto his throat with a tight grip, stuffing his head and demanding his attention. It smelled like the sweetest of sin, honeyed and dripping thick on his tongue.
A faerie’s blood, although from a half, is still as tantalising as a pure blooded one.
He hears the murmurs, could feel multiple spawns’ auras spilling out of their body, their greed relentless and non-discriminating as it lashed out over each other, fighting to be noticed by the woman in the black bodycon dress. Why are they looking at her? How dare they lay their eyes on what's mine—
He immediately shook the thought away, making a note to review it later.
You strode into the middle of the ballroom with a sway to your hips, lips painted in the hue of blood stretching into a coy smile as vampires of all ages take a step towards your direction. The dress didn't leave much to the imagination with its thin fabric clinging onto your form tightly. From the spaghetti straps hanging flimsily on your shoulders to the low dip of its collar between the mounds of your chest and the high slits on one side to reveal the plumpness of your thighs, you were mouth watering in every way possible.
With pouty lips tinted in crimson red and hair loosely curled on the side of your face. You were a sight to behold.
Seeing you stride in with all that skin displayed for everyone to see, a ravenous monster at the back of his mind resurfaces. Greed and possessiveness of the others seeped into his skin, awakening something he had long buried.
A potential mate, his mind had whispered
Fuck, you're driving him insane.
Seokjin didn't notice his feet moving, following the alluring scent beckoning him close as if hypnotised but he did see the flirtatious narrowing of your eyes as he approached. If his power is spilling over the floor and deterring everyone from daring to get in between you both, he ignored it.
In fact, he revelled in their soured faces and shivering bodies.
He wasn't one for claiming territories nor was he the type to flaunt his power but for tonight, he'll make an exception.
No one is to dare interrupt him.
“What's a pretty faerie like you doing outside of their realm?”
He tried so hard not to stare at the delectable view of the mounds of your breast or the unblemished skin of your neck and chest but it's difficult with the view granted by his height. Your heartbeat pulsed nervously despite the flirtatious mask you so perfectly strut with.
He could practically taste your scent being this close and his throat dries up.
Fuck, you're gonna make him religious.
“The same as the other women in pretty dresses in this room, darling. Money.”
“Aren't you scared people might hurt you?” It was a genuine question, if he wasn't here to step over the pining prospects, he didn't want to imagine how they would've killed each other for a glance.
You would've been ravaged, you were bold for strutting into a room full of ravenous vampires. It was impressive as much as it made his blood curl. He pushed the thought away, he wouldn't want to scare you off by decorating the hall in gore.
Seokjin could feel your fear, could hear it from the racing beats of your heart under flesh and bones. You were nervous, no doubt ready to bolt the moment you were approached by the predators surrounding you in all directions yet you faced him head on with a false confidence he started to think is real.
If fear were to ever linger in the corner of your eyes, he had a feeling it wouldn't end well for every supernatural in this room.
No one should ever dare scare you.
“I'm desperate. So, if you aren't trying to take me for the night, I have other guys pining for me so excuse—”
“I didn't say I didn't want you, sweetheart. I'm just trying to get to know you better.”
You stopped, looking up at him through your lashes as you stepped closer.
Lithe fingers boldly reached onto his tie pressed neatly behind his blazer—nails painted in a sinful red hue, he notes— tugging and twirling it between fingers as you stepped closer and closer, further drowning him in your delectable fragrance. Your nervous heart beats echoed in his ears and it sounded like the piper's capturing tune, your scent surrounds him like a haze of amortentia, demanding his attention on your eyes, your lips, your skin and to the dip in your waist. All Seokjin could think about was you.
Your soft flesh flashing up at him, teasing him and urging him to have a taste, to feel the rush of your blood coating his tongue and down his throat, to run his hands over your skin and have his marks littering its unblemished surface.
Suddenly his clothes felt suffocating in the heat of his desire.
Was he seriously this floored for someone whose face he hasn't seen?
“All you need to know is that I need a name to moan, handsome.”
He could feel the thread of his patience running thin, lust leaking in and clouding his judgement. He smirked. “Name’s Jin. What should I call you then, sweet thing?”
Your arms reached around his neck, body pressing flush into his chest as you looked up at him through lidded eyes. The size difference not going unnoticed, if anything, it made him want to drive a stake through his heart.
“Cherry.”
He doesn't know who started it first, nor does he remember how you both ended up in a private room after the feeding contract was signed, doors locked behind you both as he pressed you onto its wooden material, the masks long forgotten on the floor. Seokjin felt your lust in how your scent sweetened further like heaven's nectar, grabbing onto his throat and drowning him.
It almost felt sacrilegious that he gets to know you so intimately like this. Almost unfair how your desires grappled with his patience like a cat with a ball of yarn, temptation lighting his skin alight.
Pulling away, his lips immediately zeroed in on your neck. His fangs ached to be buried onto your precious skin but he knows better than to harvest his rewards early. He sucked bruises and marked your throat yet the greediness in his chest didn't relent, if anything, it rampaged further at the sight of you littered with his marks.
They looked so pretty on you.
“You're driving me insane.”
“Shut up and kiss me.”
Taking your lips once again with his, you engaged in a wild dance of teeth dragging over his lips and tongue clashing with yours before picking you up and taking you both to the bed at the far corner of the room.
The straps of your dress falling from your shoulders shouldn't have the effect it does to him yet here he is, throat tight and mouth watering as he hovers over your pliant body, full chest spilling on the sides of your body, raising with your laboured breath with cheeks flushed with desire. His hands pushed the offending fabric of your dress to bunch over your inner thighs, eyes greedily drinking in every inch of skin being revealed to him before noticing how the thick flesh managed to look so small under his palms.
His mouth dries.
He can't wait to see how Namjoon feels about the size difference between you. The man would lose every morsel of control.
“Stop staring!”
“Why should I? You look so pretty like this.”
There's something so sinfully divine in how the fabric only seems to cover the necessary parts of your body, trying its best—and failing—to hide you from his gaze, the devil about to corrupt your purity with a bite.
You whined, hand reaching for him as you flush darker at his comment.
You'd turn Yoongi into a devout worshipper who'd dedicate a thousand songs because of this sight alone.
He ran his hands across your thighs, thumb inching closer to your heat under the fabric and every time it neared your breath hitches. Your heartbeat thuds a little faster, a new melody he's grown to love.
Yoongi would've somehow composed a song with it.
“If you stare any longer, I'm going to start charging you.”
He didn't mean to laugh as hard as he did at that.
“Not much of a threat for me, sweetheart. I'm fucking rich.”
Your scent flares as you let out a soft moan and he captures your lips once more before pulling away with a smirk.
“I'd spoil you rotten, put you in the nicest, most expensive clothing and I'd still have more to spend on you for an eternity.”
You whined and it sounded like the sweetest melody he'd hear once he enters whatever heaven there is for the supernatural.
Seokjin didn't have a kink for spending money on someone nor did he imagine he'd have one, but as he drawled on, he couldn't help but imagine you in the most lavish fabric to pose for him and his coven members, to see your form covered in the softest of silk and the rarest of gems only their money could purchase, his throat tightened.
Taehyung’s designed clothes would fit you perfectly.
“You like wealth, princess? I have plenty. My coven has a dragon, he'd spoil you rotten, he’d stop at nothing to give you everything you'd ever wanted.”
You didn't react to his revelation and he takes it as a win, a silent acceptance of his coven.
“Please just touch me.”
“Where do you want me, princess?”
You take his hand, lithe and small against him, and bring it close to where you wanted him most between legs, nudging his fingers between folds and shocks shoots through his body. He groans, the lacy fabric already drenched with your arousal, doused with your addicting scent.
“I want your fingers inside me, Jinnie. Please?”
If you asked him for the universe with that voice, he would learn how to shrink it and hand it over to you the next day tied with a bowstring.
Are you aware of the power you hold over him?
Instead of moving, he let you move his wrist, watched you with rapt attention as his fingers dipped down your folds, hovering on your clenching hole before rising to nudge your clit, teasing your already sensitive self and moaning from the slightest of touch.
If it wasn't for the unfamiliar signature of a faerie in your scent, he would've thought you were a succubus.
“Look at you grinding on my knuckles so prettily, already so needy for me.”
He pressed light figures of eight on your button and drank in the sight of your desperation with rapt attention. Your hips twisted, eager for more. Tugging the fabric aside with the other hand, he toyed with your clit, using different pressures and motions to figure out what brings you the most pleasure before dipping a finger into you.
Your velvety walls fluttered around him, pulsing with need and tightening oh so deliciously on his finger. His cock stirs in his pants as he adds another digit, he can't wait to bury himself into your warmth.
Seeing you thrash around in pleasure as his fingers drove and curled inside you, got his body crawling with the intense feeling of greed. He wanted to see more of you, to have you on the brink of breaking. Suddenly, the dress flimsily covering you grew offensive. He eyed the material restricting his movements before pulling away from your cunt and reaching up to tug your panties off of you, discreetly tossing it into his spatial storage.
The dress is already halfway off your skin, he could easily tear them apart to replace them with a better, more expensive fabric but decided against it.
He sheds the clothing inch by inch, placing soft kisses and gentle nibbles to newly uncovered skin, leaving you breathless beneath him. Your scent flourished with your magic. It was electrifying. Intoxicating how your power seems to react so well with his.
Like you were meant to be.
Sitting back, he admired the divine artwork before him, embedding the sight into the walls of his brain. Your arms moved to cross over your breasts from his gaze making him reach down to entangle your fingers with his and pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles.
“Don't hide from me. You look so pretty like this.”
With you finally revealed bare beneath him, he wasted no more time, leaning down to your cunt where your scent was stronger and licked.
Your flavour explodes on his tongue and he groans. Whether it was just your scent he’s tasting or your arousal he could care less, mouth latching onto your folds and tongue lolling on your erect bead as he sucked. His head buzzed, intoxicated by the fluctuating aroma surrounding him. He could die happy between your shuddering thighs threatening to close around his face, he didn’t mind it though, he can go on without breathing if only he could taste your sweet nectar.
Tasting you felt blasphemous, like he broke every heavenly rule there is by having you drip on his tongue. Sinful and outright disrespectful, and he loved it.
Heat ravaged his entire being alight, desire running rampant and restless under his skin. His fingers roamed your uncharted skin possessively, digging his fingers onto flesh and dragging them down, cupping and squeezing whatever he could reach while his mouth busied with your clit. Your hands grabbed at his head, fingers threading and entangling themselves onto his hair, confused whether to push him away or to tug him closer as you edged closer to the precipice of your high.
“I'm so close…! Jinnie please!”
With your back arched, hair laid around your head like a halo and chest glistening with sweat stuttering as you come to a close, skin illuminated by the soft lights of the room, Seokjin swore he has never seen a more beautiful sight than this.
His fangs ached once more.
“Fuck..! I’m gonna—”
He pulls away, teeth sinking into the plush of your thigh and your body seizes with pleasure, the ecstasy caused by his bite pushing you over.
Your blood is light and rich on his tongue, syrupy and honeyed, like the sweetest nectar found only in the garden of eden, the flavour heightened by your climax. Seokjin could taste the sugariness of your orgasm as if it was his own and he groaned. It was dizzying, the taste clogging his senses and stuffing cottons inside his mind as he took and took. He has never realised how hungry he was until he’s bitten into your skin.
His head swims, intoxicated by the raw magic in your blood entering his system, intertwining and entangling themselves into his own before boldly integrating with the flow of his power as if they've always been there. Energy buzzed under his fingers now erratically plunging and curling inside your cunt, further sweetening your blood as you edged between pleasure and pain from overstimulation.
Then in the midst of all the pleasure and nirvana, something clicks into place and he jerks awake from the haze.
Forcing himself to pull away, he almost black out as if he’s been taken off of life support—he feels like he did. Head blank and lightheaded, blood drunk. Even in his bleary state, he could feel it. An additional trace of your magic latching onto his own, a bond unconsciously made.
The uncomfortable stickiness in his boxers didn't go unnoticed and he buried his face into your thigh, blushing for no one in particular.
He cursed under his breath before pushing himself up and wishing you both into the comfortable clothing he had stocked up in his pocket dimension before taking his phone out of it, immediately greeted by the onslaught of text on his lock screen, all two hundred of them from his brothers who had no doubt felt the addition and his intense pleasure from feeding on you.
Normally, he'd be embarrassed by the thought of them knowing what he's been up to but there were more pressing matters to attend to.
For example, the bond formed without your consent and his.
There's panic and confusion swirling madly like a hurricane through the six other bonds. He forced calmness down the lines tethered to his magic before turning back to the issue at hand.
He might have to wake you up and inform you of what happened.
But when he looked up and found your eyes closed, most likely blacking out from the intensity of the unprecedented bonding and the overstimulation from a vampire's bite, he figured that he'd deal with it tomorrow. You looked peaceful and he found himself mirroring the same sentiment, exhaustion weighing his bones. He dragged himself up next to you, arms wrapping around your torso as if he has always been doing so.
There's still insistent tugs down the lines of his bond, demanding answers and the constant buzzing from his phone but that's for tomorrow's Seokjin’s problem to solve, for now, he closes his eyes.
For the first time that year, Seokjin sleeps and wakes from the most pleasant rest he's had in centuries only to end it abruptly when he wakes up with the other side of the bed empty and he freaks.
______
“What the fuck do you mean you just left him?!”
“What the fuck was I supposed to do then?! If he's as high profile as you think, I don't think he'd appreciate waking up next to a one night stand!”
“Not all of them you—ARGH!”
Soomin groaned exasperatedly and loudly, folding over herself as she facepalms on the other armchair in your dorm's living room. Deeming it not dramatic enough, she grabs the pink throw pillow behind her and screams onto it.
Truth be told, leaving Jin earlier that morning placed a heavy weight on your heart. It felt so wrong to walk away from him, as if there's a string tying you to him and now it's pulled taut—which is a crazy statement to think about, there was no bonding ritual so how could you feel so dejected from closing the door behind you?
You have a couple of spare zeroes in your bank account now with bills paid and an expensive pair of black shoes already in transit for Soobin. Why would you be sad from leaving a one night stand?
You couldn't even believe you managed to bag someone that high in the social hierarchy. That party was a nightmare, walking in knowing all eyes would turn to you, all predatorial and hungry, it almost made you want to run back to your mother's arms. But you're an actress, theatre experience be damned if you weren't going to put on the greatest act of your life.
Fake till you make it, you always think and it led to you having the most earth shattering, blackout worthy orgasm as well as owning heaps of money.
Soomin has a different sentiment though, now standing up to crossover to where you sat across her before promptly hitting your body with the pillow.
“You're. So. Fucking. Stupid!” She screams like you had pissed and disrespected her ancestors’ grave, striking after each word. “That man might be Kim Seokjin from the most elusive clan in the world! Number one most sought bachelor and the country's most powerful sorcerer and you just walked away from him!”
“How could you be so sure it's him? All we got is a nickname.”
“His name is literally Jin which is short for Seokjin and he's a vampire wizard! You said he has a coven with a dragon? Well, guess what?! That dragon is Kim fucking Namjoon, another member of the Kim coven! That man is one of the richest in the fucking world and you just ditched his coven’s eldest!”
She swings for the last time and you weren't so fortunate the last few times—already letting down your guard when she began ranting—and it hits you square in the face. You groaned in pain, the zipper on the side of the pillow scratching your skin.
Soomin’s anger immediately dwindled as she realised her error and gasped, falling to her knees and hands already reaching to cup your face to check for visible marks, pillow left abandoned on the carpet.
“Can't be damaging the face that bagged the Kim coven.”
“No damage here.”
“Just my faith in your decision making skills. I mean,” she stands, now more subdued and more disappointed than angry, still you eyed the pillow warily. “You've been wearing yourself down to death for years not only for you but also your family. If you were taken into the Kim Clan, you wouldn't have to worry about money anymore.”
Despite being one of your closest and longest friends, there's always been a huge difference with how you both perceive money.
You're desperate for it, clawing and digging your hands bloody through the desolate desert for a chance of finding one small nugget to sustain your family while Soomin was familiar with it—she grew comfortably living in her parents’ spoils of years of hard work but never enough to buy the highest of quality items until her fiance came and suddenly, she had more than enough to spend for her luxury and you.
You strived and toiled for a smidge of stability whereas she revelled in anything life throws at her without worry because she has her parents to catch her if everything ever goes wrong.
She thinks of luxury as designer brands and ridiculously highly priced products that don't guarantee the greatest quality but you think of luxury as never having to worry about spending a cent over the designated budget for food shopping.
Even then, you loved her to the bone. Appreciated her like a sister from another mother.
“I can't afford to be distracted right now. I have a course to finish and a family to keep alive, I can't be hanging onto blind hope.”
Soomin's eyes softened, understanding and sighed. Turning around, she licked up the stray pillow before settling back into her chair and crossing her arms.
“I'm just… I just wanted you to be happier. It's a life mission of mine to make sure I won't die before seeing you living without stressing over details.”
“I know.”
“I love you, leaflet.”
You laugh and she smiles. “I love you too, queen.”
#bts x reader#bts x fem!reader#bts x y/n#bts x you#kim seokjin x reader#seokjin x reader#jin bts#kim seokjin#seokjin smut
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Can you do 100 from the smut prompt list with Peter (Dark Phoenix version) but can you make it where the reader is his wife and he still is gentle and loving with her.
I really want to see how you would write a more romantic Peter
Pancakes
peter maximoff x reader smut
warnings: shameless smut, domestic, married couple, cock warming, risky sex, creampie, implied/referenced breeding
word count: 2,762
a/n: this one's for you, purple cat !! apologies, i'm rusty with my writing and characterization right now. probably will be for a while. sorry the ending's so abrupt !!
Peter races ceaselessly back and forth. Like a fast paced pendulum in full swing, he juggles his two most demanding responsibilities. The X-Men and teaching. His multiple jobs and total lack of free time are some of the many downsides of being a grown ass adult. He doesn’t wanna complain too much though, since the work is definitely rewarding overall. Like fo’ sho, he’s not gonna deny the perks.
But even with those sweet positives - making both money, and a name for himself; your superhero husband rarely has time for you anymore.
Peter hopes you’ll forgive him. Again. As he ambles into your shared room after another heinously long day, his body is littered in scrapes and bruises. Echoes of battles won. The wounds will surely heal by next morning. You know this as well as you know him. But you still insist on patching him up anyway, after Beastie’s already taken care of him twice over. You’re just so damn doting. It makes Peter feel even worse for waving you off.
He guarantees you a quick peck on the lips and a “love you, gorgeous.” Before he finally succumbs to mental fatigue. A tired fog of exhaustion beckons him to collapse into bed. You beg Peter to stay up a bit longer. An hour, at least. But just as you get a word in, he’s already conked out. Snoring away.
Within three hours, he wakes. You sleep soundly next to him. Snug as a lil bug. Peter presses a loving smooch to your sleepy head. Ruffling your hair, he bolts out the door promptly after.
Wash. Rinse. Repeat. Every day. For months on end. His schedule never seems to align with yours.
Peter misses you so bad. He misses spending time with you. Laughing together. Cuddling for brief instances, cuz he can never sit still long enough for it to last. He misses making small talk. Only to glance at the clock and find hours unknowingly passed. Peter longs to take you on spontaneous trips across the country again, trying pancakes at every small town diner he can find.
And to put it bluntly - he desperately yearns to make love again. To you. His smokin’ hot wife - Mrs. Maximoff - and no one else. After months of pent-up frustration, he’s about ready to burst at the seams. It physically pains him when he remembers how often the two of you used to bone. So many times a day. Every day.
Peter still wonders if his speedy swimmers are even worth a damn. With all the raw, passionate sex he had with you - it’s a miracle you never followed the Maximoff family trend of carrying twins.
He even misses the more shameful moments shared with you. Like the times he surprised you with truckloads of gifts, spoiling you rotten - after he forgot your anniversary. Again. And again and again and- …hey, he warned you, long before the two of you ever got married. Peter isn’t the most reliable lover. He’s never been “boyfriend material,” as they say. And he knows now, better than ever; he most definitely isn’t “husband material" either.
But he really does love you. A lot. Like, a lot a lot. About as much as he loves Wanda. Which is an astronomical amount of love, if he's being honest. And if he were born with some reality-warping mutation instead, Peter would move the heavens and Earth just to make you happy.
Times are tough for mutants these days, though. There’s still so much work to be done. Classes to teach. Rights to fight for. People to save. No shortage of those.
You know he isn’t to blame for his absence. And he knows you know it. But still...it just...it sucks! He needs to be there for you, as much as you wanna be there for him.
And when the X-family comes together on a Friday night for a much needed break - more than anything in the world, Peter looks forward to spending every second with you. As soon as you walk into the lounge room, Peter pulls you straight into his arms. You’re wearing a tasteful dress you picked out just for him. It makes you look like a goddamn knockout. But all he wants is to tear it off you and press his bare body against yours. To feel your soft, luscious skin get sweatier under the natural, burning heat of his own.
The team play a few board games together, sharing drinks, gorging on Remy’s best gumbo. Peter gets a slap on the wrist with a ladle, after Lebeau catches him sneaking a third bowl - before anyone else even has their first.
It’s an easygoing, chillaxed affair. And throughout the night, your silver fox husband keeps you close like a magnet. Attached at the hip. He’s uncharacteristically clingy, touching you as much as you’ll allow in a sociable space. Calloused hands tenderly graze your skin as he offers to hold your drink. Peter’s fingers splay against your lower back, curling in, drawing affectionate circles.
You make your rounds and mingle with the family. Peter follows you around like a lost dog in need of attention. He keeps an arm wrapped around your waist, taking every opportunity to secretly grope your ass. You sneak him a few wary glances. Wordless warnings. Bringing his drink to his lips, the fine lines of Peter’s dimples pull in a lazy grin. He averts his gaze elsewhere.
Once more, his impulsivity earns him a slap on the wrist. Not from Remy this time. But from you. Peter takes your subtle scolding as a challenge. Leaning closely into your vicinity, he mutters.
“Oh, it is so on.”
“Don’t you dare!” You whisper back, squealing after he gives you a light smack on your ass.
His teasing continues without warning.
You chat with the team, visibly tensing as Peter pulls a nonexistent strand of lint from your dress. His hot touch lingers dangerously close to your cleavage. You can’t help but blush. The warmth in your cheeks races across your skin, creeping through your supple bust. Left speechless, your words falter on your tongue. Peter carries the conversation for you with minimal effort, flaunting aloof charisma.
He cracks a poorly timed joke and it fails to land. Feigning his embarrassment, he hides his face in the fragrant crook of your neck. His teammates tease him for it. But what they don’t know is, it’s all a theatrical ruse. They don’t see the way his teeth nip your flesh before he pulls away.
During an innocent game of UNO, your husband’s lidded gaze leers at you from across the carpeted floor. Peter’s dark hues make a short gesture to the dip between your legs. Biting his lip, he meets your eyes again with a frisky look. You know that look all too well. Again, you blush profusely. Logan catches him in the act as he wiggles his silver brows. But the old timer makes no comment, shaking his head with a smirk.
The team later settles down for a movie. Taking their respective spots in front of the TV, snacks in hand, they all lounge around. Peter steals a cozy spot on one of the sofas. He leaves a space for you next to him. Bouncing a knee restlessly, he cooks up a number of sneaky ways he can tease you. But his plans are all tossed to the wind once you scooch your way between the couch and the coffee table.
You shimmy your ample ass in front of him. Is it intentional? Unintentional? You naughty, little minx. His virile gaze falls to your tush, so full and grabbable in your dress. In a split second, he grabs your waist and inches you back into the warm familiarity of his lap. Your body relaxes, your back against his chest.
Finally, at last, Peter cuddles his wife again.
And he’s content with doing so for all of one minute.
His knee continues to bounce underneath you. With your hands joined together in your lap, his fingers absentmindedly play with your wedding ring. Steering his attention from Jurassic Park, Peter brings a hand to your chin. In the darkness, the television’s light illuminates all of your best features. You’re stunning. He really can't help himself. Peter pulls you in for some modest lip action. Careful not to catch anyone’s attention. The fingers of his opposite hand tease the back of your neck, igniting patterns of goose flesh.
“Aw, you cold?” Peter’s affectionate voice hitches, seemingly innocent.
He doesn’t wait for an answer. Peter vanishes and returns in a fwip, draping a thick blanket over the two of you once he returns. Showing gratitude, you peck his cheek with a soft kiss. Cute. Your mischievous husband almost laughs. He adores how naive and sweet you are. Oblivious to his schemes after five years of a marriage, and a decade of familiarity. Peter makes a few adjustments. Playing it off like he’s covering you for warmth.
You sink into him again with a fond smile on your lips.
An adoring smile that instantly falls, lips parting, exhaling a breathless gasp.
Peter trails fiery fingertips along your inner thigh and up your dress skirt. His hooded gaze stays hard locked on the movie, faking interest in Jeff Goldblum’s incoherent mumblings. Blissful buzzes resound faintly against the fabric of your panties. Peter’s grin stretches impishly again when you jolt as a response. Your clit pulses under flush pressure, making you squirm in his lap.
Confession time: your husband’s on a mission to make you as wet as possible, in as little time as possible.
The pads of his warm digits draw lower and push into damp fabric. You’re already soaking yourself silly.
“Feel that? How wet you are? Must’ve really missed me, huh?” Peter breathes silently with his nose in your neck, getting high off your familiar scent. His lips press a chaste kiss to your skin. A husky chuckle blooms in his throat, “Missed you too. Missed this. So fuckin' much.”
His name teeters off your lips in a confused whimper, barely audible. Sneaking your damp panties to the side, Peter’s thick digits breach your lonesome pussy folds. After being deprived of you for so ungodly long, the feel of your wet lust hardens him all at once. His fingers play a little game of tunnel diving, prodding your lush insides. Peter adjusts his position on the sofa by a smidgen. Silent curses tickle your temple. His girth bulges against your ass.
“The fuck do you think you’re doing?!” You huff under your breath, frantically scanning the room as he shifts again.
Peter’s digits curl so deliciously deep inside you, whirring like a silent vibrator, making your cunt spill leaky love. His breathy lips loom close to your ear.
“Hmm? Gunna try somethin’ risky. You’ll be quiet for me, won’t you, baby? Don’t want ‘em catchin’ on.”
“Honey, no-”
“Shhh. Shhh. Shhh. Just go with the motions. Trust me. It’ll be so fun. I know you wanna.”
Peter uses speedster precision to pull his flush dick discreetly from his jeans. Poor guy’s so homesick, he’s crying - leaking precum, throbbing as Peter nudges him into your plush heat. It’s an awkward angle at first. But Peter guides you through it with more hushed whispers. The blanket acts as a veil of innocence, draped over your connected bodies. Peter urges your hips to sink lower. You choke on your own mewls as he scarcely ruptures your precious tunnel.
“Tell me if it hurts, ‘kay?” He coos through an easy tone, parting his lips against the shell of your ear.
A subtle hitch of his hips does the rest of the work for you. Biting his tongue, Peter curls his brows inward. Your slick walls envelop his length all at once. Smooth, shuddery tightness compresses his cock and sets his nerves ablaze. Your husband peppers your temple in heedless kisses, letting throaty grunts slip in between each one. His pulsing cock keeps your walls pried open. Snug, safe, secure, and buried to the hilt.
Peter doesn’t move, and neither do you. One of his hands digs nails into your hips over your dress, keeping you cemented on his lap. He’s torturing himself, fighting his own relentless impatience in an attempt to stay perfectly still. And it’s taking every microscopic ounce of willpower not to pound you senseless. Peter covers his face with a palm. His dark, lust-blown eyes peer through lazy fingers at the TV.
He’s six inches deep in his wife right now, and not a soul in the room has any clue.
Clearing his throat and acting casual, Peter shifts his hips again. His fat tip prods your cervix with a weepy kiss. Like a promise to stuff you full of something special. He sneaks a careful hand between your legs. His wedding ring settles over your bush, cool to the touch. The rough pads of his fingers vibrate more intensely than before, winding into your twitchy clit. Coaxing you to break. You tremble in his lap, knees flying inward, knocking together hard enough to bruise.
Peter’s eyes roll back in his skull as your sticky walls seize tightly around his snug dick.
“Ah, fuck me.” He groans into your hair.
He can’t stop himself from knocking his hips upward every few minutes. Burrowing his buzzing thickness deeper, Peter splits you open, impaling your poor pussy. His genes imbue his body with primal frustration. Hiking the intensity of your hot bliss, his digits toy with your clit. Your breaths grow more sparse and shallow, as you blink tears from the corners of your eyes.
“Pietro, honey, please-"
He hitches his next breath. Reeling his ass into the couch cushions, Peter makes an abrupt retreat before ramming his cock into your womb. His inky gaze widens tenfold as your pussy swells, squeezing his dick tight enough to lock him in your hot channel forever. His lashes flutter. Going cross eyed, Peter feels his weighty balls tense under denim.
His hand darts up from your hip, clamping over your mouth in a flash. Peter pulls you hard against him, your back flush with his heaving chest as you cum. You’re so fucking lucky the movie transitions into a particularly loud scene. The shrill roar of Jurassic Park dinosaurs plays like a perfectly timed miracle. Concealing your muffled squeals of ecstasy.
The slippery contractions of your orgasm send him into the stratosphere. Your pussy creams hard on your husband’s whirring cock, and his pent-up longing comes crashing in bombastic waves. As covertly as he can, under the thick heat of the blanket; Peter repeatedly thrusts into your lush pussy. Slowly - so as not to catch anyone’s attention.
It’s both the most hellish, and thrilling sexual experience of his near-middle aged years. He bites his lip so hard he draws blood. Peter’s brows fly up, following an expression of pure vulnerability. Thick, endless pools of white, syrupy heat flood your pussy, gushing in streaks and leaking down his vascular dick.
Peter takes a two second pause to catch his breath, unusually winded from such a scandalously intimate experience. With his nose buried in your hair, his lips pepper your head in soft kisses. Bringing his fist to his mouth, Peter clears his throat again.
“Uhm, g-great party, guys! Love you! We’re gonna bounce. G’night!”
The two of you disappear in a blur, leaving the blanket fluttering in the air.
Back in your shared room, your ever-insatiable husband drills you raw again and again. Spilling thick, sticky load after load - like he’s really trying his damndest to knock you up. You lose track of how many times you reach ecstasy. Peter tells you he’s making up for lost time. By the end of it all, your limp, naked body lies loosely in his arms. Running his fingers through your hair, he catches himself staring at the ceiling with a big, dumb smile on his face.
Saturday morning, Peter channels his inner, teenage self. Recalling his notorious streak of high school ditch-days, much to his mother’s dismay. He decides…ah, screw it. If Chuck needs him, he can just reach out via telepathic communication. Peter bails on his responsibilities to take you out for pancakes. At a family owned diner in some nowhere town, far away from any sinister villains.
You sit across from him at the booth, leaning tiredly over your breakfast. He can tell your body aches just by looking at you. Bones rigid. Legs sore. Hair unkempt. Makeup smeared.
You’re goddamn beautiful.
#not a fan of this one but i hope yall get a kick out of it !!#peter maximoff x y/n#peter maximoff x you#peter maximoff x reader#smut drabble#peter maximoff#txt
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your writing is so lovely, I’m a writer myself but don’t think i’m that good but i wanna see you write quinn dating a very girly reader like one who loves pinks & purples, dresses, being dolled up sometimes, has an interest in vintage designer items or even has hints of pinks all around in her apartment. i could not stop thinking about what he would gift her if he would spot stuff in window shops on one of his days off that screams you all over it. like him buying it with a nice stain pink ribbon for your anniversary ugh i’m in awe thinking about it this past week 😩
quinn hughes x fem!reader
genre: fluff
word count: 641 (sorry it’s so short !)
warnings: none! just quinn thinking of reader and being sweet
quinn observes you, looking at the pink skirt that dangles off your waist that is perfectly paired with a white shirt. you looked gorgeous. he felt out of place as he sat on the edge of your bed, wearing all black. quinn knew you liked bright colors, wore them often and your room was decorated like a fairytale.
he hums to himself as he watches you finish up your look, making you turn around at the sound. “do you like it?”
quinn smiles softly, “yeah, of course i do.”
you feel your body heat up at the genuine compliment, trying your best not to look nervous in front of him. he urges you to come towards him with a nod of his head. you follow, walking and standing between his legs. his hands trace along your bare thighs, looking up at you with love. you shiver at the touch, smiling down at him.
“i got you something,” he mumbles, looking at you with a sparkle in his eyes.
you pout, “you didn’t have to.”
he shakes his head, “wanted to.”
you watch as he reaches into his pocket, pulling out a delicate box. you frown, seeing a designer name on it. he knew you loved things like this, but you knew it had to have been expensive. it wasn’t like quinn cared, though. as long as you were happy. spoiled and happy.
“open it,” he encourages, handing you the box.
you slowly open it, eyeing him for just a few moments before seeing what was inside. it’s a gorgeous heart necklace, a beautiful pink as it shines brightly in your room. your gasp and the smile on your face makes it all worth it to quinn. he had window shopped for hours before coming upon that gift. he always likes getting you something nice, something you can remember him by.
“put it on me?” you smile, turning around. quinn stands from his sitting position, taking the necklace out of your hands and clasping it together.
you reach a hand up, feeling the jewelry between your fingers and sighing. “thank you, quinn. i love it so much.”
quinn kisses you softly, “i’m glad you do, sweetheart. you look gorgeous in it.” he eyes the necklace around your neck, proud of his own gift as it matches the outfit you currently wear.
quinn never thought he would end up with someone who dressed the opposite to him, had an aura the opposite to him. but he did, and he didn’t find any flaws about it. you were his girl. the girl who loved to dress up, wear all these pretty clothes, show it off for him.
and damn, did he feel lucky.
quinn pulls one last thing out of his pocket, surprising you again. it’s another box. you eye him suspiciously, but don’t hesitate to open it. it’s a gorgeous satin ribbon, one for your hair. it’s a light pink, making you smile and bite your bottom lip.
“why am i being spoiled?” you ask, wrapping your arms around him. “i know it’s our anniversary but you didn’t need to-”
“because i love you.” he blurts out, looking you in the eye and putting a pause on your sentence, “i love you so much, and every time i’m out, i think of you. i think about the things you would and wouldn’t like. i think about putting these things on you and watching you flaunt.”
you smile up at him, tears starting to form quietly, “i love you so much, quinn.”
he dips down for a kiss, feeling how soft and pillowy your lips are. and it’s nothing short of sweet, nothing you aren’t familiar with but something you can’t get used to. it causes your knees to almost buckle below you, feeling him smile against your lips.
you were quinn’s gorgeous girl.
#nhl#quinn hughes#quinn hughes fluff#quinn hughes x reader#quinn hughes scenario#nhl fic#nhl imagine#nhl hockey#nhl fluff
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Not a request but just imagine DP & Logan taking such good care of you on your birthday.
Literal Princess/Prince/Royal treatment.
God and don’t even get me started on how good they’d be to you in the bedroom. Logan and Wade always make sure to treat you good but just imagine how much more special they’d try to make it.
You wanna be Eiffel towered? Absolutely it’s your birthday
You want them both in one hole? Deal. Logans already rock hard and Wade’s grabbing the lube.
You just wanna watch them fuck? Wade’s never been more in love with you.
minors dni
”can I watch you two fuck? please?”
you say the question with doe eyes and twisting hands, like you’re asking to stay out late rather watch your boyfriends go to town on each other. Logan chokes on his mouthful of beer at the unexpected request. Wade lights up.
“pookie, I love you. marry me,” he says, deadpan earnest. you giggle as he pulls you in for a kiss. Logan harrumphs but doesn’t seem too sour about it, it’s been a nice celebration of your birthday after all; taking you to all your favourite places, watching you light up at the fancy café they treated you to lunch at, spoiling you rotten in every shop you wandered into.
so maybe this is just the icing on the cake for you. who are they to deny you every single little thing you want? you’re worth indulging after all, and they both love you. (they love each other too, but those confessions are left for hazy post-coital cuddles which slip into sleep).
“fine,” Logan sighs, as if it’s some great feat, as if he hasn’t been inside Wade a dozen times already. you squeak and clap with joy before sprinting into the bedroom.
“cmon, old guy. keep up,” Wade says with a wink and a slap to Logan’s ass. he growls a warning… but follows anyway.
you set yourself up in the chair in the corner of the room, grabbing one of the bottles of lube the three of you have stored around the place and throwing it to Wade. he likes to make a show of stripping for you, you whoop when he takes his shirt off and swings it around. Logan is more utilitarian about it, tugging his flannel over his head and his jeans off his legs, pushing Wade down into the mattress the first chance he gets. Wade yelps and you gasp in anticipation, hand crawling lower on your body.
”oh, buy a girl dinner first…” Wade hums, Logan silences him with a ferocious kiss. the kind which has their teeth colliding. out the corner of his eye he’s aware of you shucking off your shorts, dipping your fingers in your underwear to start touching yourself. Logan ruts his hips against Wade’s, grinning against his lips at how into this he’s getting.
“Mouth, you talk a big game for someone who gets this hard just from being kissed.”
“you think that’ll work on me? I like being bullied, it makes me cum. get back down here.”
Wade tugs him by his blowjob tufts and kisses him longer, before letting his hand reach down to cradle Logan’s cock.
“slow down, Red. we gotta put on a show, remember?”
they turn to where you watch mesmerised, bucking up into your own hand, mouth soft and agape at the sight before you. you grin.
“I like being in the director’s chair. Wade, can you get on top?” you breathe, pleading. you both look to Logan for his confirmation, and he nods. fuck it, why not. it’s your birthday after all.
“as you wish,” Wade says in a perfect mimicry of Princess Bride, and flips Logan back-down into the mattress.
they go slow for you, and you eke out your orgasms to their lovemaking. Wade bends Logan over and eats him out as you instruct him what to do with his tongue. Logan uses your favourite toy to stretch Wade open. when they fuck their eyes are half glued to each other, half wandering to you sweaty and writhing on that damn chair. once they start properly, it doesn’t take long for them to both finish, making a mess on the bed. you come around your fingers and whine in pleasure.
Logan waits for you to relax before picking you up off the chair. you squeak.
“Lo—!”
“what, you think you’re not gettin’ a turn?”
he places you into Wade’s willing arms, and you feel they’re both beginning to get hard again. ah, the inevitable exhaustion which comes from dating two mutants.
“happy birthday, baby…”
“boys…”
it’s the last word you’re able to say for a while.
#my writing#james logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x reader#logan x reader#wolverine x reader#x men x reader#logan howlett imagine#marvel x reader#marvel imagine#marvel fanfiction#mcu fanfiction#mcu imagine#wolverine fanfiction#mcu fandom#Wolverine smut#Deadpool smut#deadpool x reader#Deadpool x you#wade wilson x reader#deadpool x reader x wolverine#wolverine x reader x deadpool#Ty saradika-graphics!
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rafe being president of a frat and saying readers brother can only get in if she sucks him off
thinking about this concept with this rafe? yes.
‧₊˚👛✩ ₊˚🎀⊹♡
you never knew floorboards could be this sticky, and that people could smell so strongly of beer. you didn’t particularly love frat parties, but you’d been looking for an excuse to get drunk after the week you’d had, and wear that new little skirt you knew you looked good in. as your group gets let in to the building, you’re stopped by the shoulder — and you huff as you watch the rest of the girls wander off without noticing your absence. you put that down to doing too many shots at the pre-game.
“and what do we have here?” you’re greeted by rafe cameron, his hand still clasping your shoulder, can of beer in the other. “what, you gonna… walk right in n’ignore me? where’s my hug huh?”
“you don’t get one. you told my brother he can’t join your stupid frat.” you feel pathetic at the way you border on a pout, crossing your arms over your chest what you hoped to be intimidatingly — which only make you come across as a sulky brat.
rafe tongues his cheek with a smug chuckle, looking away and nodding as a greeting at a familiar face passing by before turning his attention back to you. “who cares, a’ight? ‘kids a loser. i’m actually doing the guy a favour, he wouldn’t fit in.” he resists an eyeroll, bringing the can to his lips and taking a sip.
“you’re purposely excluding him! and — and you didn’t even give him a chance to prove himself.” you furrow your brows making his jaw tick, looking around incase you made a scene. he leans in, voice a little quieter.
“cry me a river. alright? that’s just how this shit goes. now is there anything else you wanna say?” he raises his eyebrows and you back down, deciding it’s not worth it. you were here to get drunk after all, and getting kicked out before you’ve even really entered would spoil that plan completely. you blink up at him silently and he nods. “no? alright then.” he steps back, gesturing with his head for you to go inside. “run along, sweetheart.”
but that’s not the last you see of rafe that night — if you’re not ignoring his usual stares, or glares if you’re talking to another guy — you’re dodging his attempts to try and get you to come over, where you know he’ll end up being all touchy and condescending (and you’ll have to totally deny that it’s turning you on.) regardless of your attempts to evade, he catches you anyway at the drink table, wrapping his arms around your waist.
“you know, i— i have been thinking about what you said.” he gets straight to the point, and your interest is piqued.
“about my brother?” you spin to face him eagerly, so he all but has you backed up against the drinks table, wet smirk on his face from the lip of his beer bottle.
“mm.” he hums, a faux pensive frown finding his face as he nods as if deep in thought, only further drawing you in. “i uh, i think there’s something we might be able to do. you know, a little agreement.” a salacious smile spreading on his face.
your brows knit, lashes scraping them as you look directly up at him — and it only made him wanna chuckle, because you just looked so doe eyed and pleading. he did believe you’d do just about anything.
“like what, rafe?” you sound unsure, but you could probably guess the direction things were headed. he leans in, his mouth hovering over your ear so that he could speak up and be heard clearly.
“i’m saying i…i would be willing to take a bribe. some oral persuasion goes a long way with me.”
you surprise yourself when you end up on your knees in a locked guest bedroom, the taller boy happy as ever as he fists his cock infront of you. even he was surprised this had worked, so he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to draw the whole thing out.
“c’mon rafe, just lemme—”
“nah, nah…” he licks his lips, batting away the hand that reaches for him. he pauses for a moment, looking you over with drooped eyes and parted lips. “i really, really think it’s in your best interest to start beggin’… let’s hear it.” he shrugs, stopping everything to stare you down. you huff, hot in the face and humiliated already.
“please, rafe. let me suck you off.” you mewl, quietly because you can’t bring yourself to speak any louder. he laughs boyishly, tongue poking out as he does so.
“yeah uh, i meant beg for me to let your brother into the frat— you really want this dick in your mouth though don’t you baby? huh?” he teases with a grin and you go all dumb and glassy eyed, barely able to think straight. he clears his throat and sits up straighter at your reaction. “alright, it’s okay— don’t go getting all… upset.” he dismisses, a clammy hand sliding round the back of your neck to bring you closer. “c’mon, get to work. you know what to do.”
you give him your all, because if you were going to stoop this low all for your brother, you might aswell make it worth something. you hollow your cheeks, you drool, you play with his balls, you take him down as far as you can go — all things you knew would get you in his good books. it seems to be working, praises starting to tumble past his lips when you gag on him instead of teasing you.
“shit, good fuckin’ girl. keep takin’ it.” rings through your ears as you switch to jerking him once more, tongue swirling at his tip. this seems to be what sends him over the edge, and just to ensure your place — you swallow.
he’s surprisingly soft with you as you both recover, the cameron boy wiping your mouth on the back of his hand and watching you catch his breath through his own wrecked panting. bless your heart, you’re staring at him with these big hopeful eyes, rimmed by watery mascara and pink scleras, batting gloopy lashes at him like he had all the power in the world. a dangerous thing for a man’s ego.
rafe tucks himself back into his pants, letting out a relieved exhale before cupping your face— leaning in and pressing a kiss to the centre of your forehead. he pulls back, gazing at you with an unreadable expression for a moment before patting your cheek. “i’ll think about it.” he presses his lips in a tight, malicious smile before he stands, walking to the door.
you stare, stomach twisting at the lack of promise despite your efforts and you turn your head from your knelt position, jaw agape. “c’mon, up you get. wouldn’t want anyone seein’ you like this, right?”
‧₊˚👛✩ ₊˚🎀⊹♡
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See my needy ass kicking down the door to Dr Lee's torture room demanding he take a break bc it's 'head pats o'clock' and I want attention
He just freezes, the drill in his hand still whirring as he looks over to see what was the matter. You, with your cute little pout and demanding expression stomp over and tap on your phone screen, that was currently showing the time.
“It’s been three hours. I made snacks and everything and watches two whole episodes without you!”
Lee just gasps, dropping the tool as it lands right into the eye of the person on the table. He’d gotten so lost in playing with his toys he completely forgot to come back up and have his sacred time with you! Oh dearest butterfly don’t be upset!
“How could I?! Oh love, how can I make this up to you? It wasn’t on purpose I promise!” He exclaims while taking your hands and pulling you towards him, his lips coming to kiss your forehead as your fingers interlock. “You know me. I obsess over the smallest details sometimes that I can’t quite escape until someone shakes me loose”
“Oh I’m aware” you say dryly, but don’t fully turn away. Admittedly you liked being a bit of a spoiled brat, what’s the harm if Lee seemed to like to play into it too? “I can’t believe you left up alone and worried all this time because your more interested in someone dying”
Lee clicks his tongue, forcing you to look at him as he holds your face between his fingers. “Ah ah ah. Don’t even joke about that, you know damn well that isn’t true. I’d sooner pull my own tongue out than think anyone else is worth more of my time than you”.
You knew he was serious. You couldn’t help the smile on your face hearing that, knowing he wouldn’t ever truly leave you high and dry. You weren’t even really upset, you’re just a cuddly little tyrant sometimes is all!
You gently kiss the palm of his hand as he cradled your face, looking up from under your lashes. “So you’re almost done then?”
“I’m finished darling, I’ll head up there with you right away. This one is more or less comatose anyway, they shouldn’t be a problem for a while”. He gently kisses your head again, taking your hand to lead you up the stairs as he shuts the heavy metal door. “You know, since I was so naughty, you could think of a way to punish me” he flirts, smirk on his features.
“Yeah, I could. And I am” you say as you two get comfortable on the couch, his hand coming to rest on yours. “Oh? Do tell me then, I love when my little minx is demanding”
The smile on your face only brightens when you see the light leave his eyes at your next statement. “I invited Jasper over for game night tomorrow. Hope you like suffering with his favorite board games”
((This was fun and silly, I hope you beans like it! -Mommabean ))
#doctor Lee my oc#Dr Lee my oc#my ocs#mommabean#yandere serial killer#yandere imagines#yandere scenarios#yandere doctor#yandere fluff#yandere male
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Would villain!Miguel have a whole wedding with reader?
I can kinda see them having a big wedding. Reader in the most beautiful gown with the expensive lace and silks. She feels so special with Miguel treating her like a queen on their big day.
But Miguel isn’t throwing this big wedding so they could celebrate with many people as possible. He’s doing it so that he can show off how much power he has. That he has everything and more.
Sorry I was so late in responding to this!! I was debating on just answering or writing a little snip bit. Since I'm pressed for time, I'll both answer, but also give a small snip bit of how it can go, haha!
So, yes, Villain!Miguel will def have a big ass wedding with reader.
Not for the romance or anything, but more as a threat to everyone. Everyone already knows that he is Kingpin, but not Spider-Man.
So what does Miguel do to scare everyone?
The damn lunatic makes a robot Spider-Man to attend his wedding to strike even more fear into his shareholders, workers, citizens and well, everyone.
You didn't even notice since Miguel spoiled you to the core. You had everything you wanted for the wedding. Miguel wanted to make sure that you were happy, especially since you were already carrying his child at this point.
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You were giddy with joy as you stared at yourself in the large mirror. The over the top wedding dress sending shivers down your spine. You looked like a Queen. That and Miguel was treating you like one as well. It was perfect.
Unable to hide the blush on your cheeks as the doors open, you inhaled deeply. It was time. You were going to walk down that aisle and officially marry the man of your dreams.
"It's time~" You cooed.
--------
Miguel stood tall on the alter, a clear smirk against his lips as he looked around the room. The atmosphere was tense. Everyone's face were paled with fear as they focused on either Miguel or the fake Spider-Man that stood behind him.
Ah, how Miguel loved being smart.
As the music started to play, Miguel glanced down the aisle. His perfect wife walking towards him. Miguel had to resist a chuckle since you had a cute blush on your cheeks. How adorable of you thinking that this wedding was truly for love.
This was a statement.
With this wedding being showed to the world, Miguel officially set his place as a tyrant. Glancing at you, Miguel focused more on your belly. You were quick to get pregnant. All of that waiting and teasing was worth the wait.
"Now for the v-"
"I do," Miguel interrupted the priest, not wanting to waste time and meaningless things.
"I do~" You chirped.
Miguel's lips twitched into a smirk. You were such a good girl for him. You didn't even question him anymore. You just behaved and did what Miguel wanted.
Stroking your cheek, Miguel did pull you in for a kiss. He had to reward you for doing such a good job for him. Observing your dazed expression, Miguel resisted another chuckle. He grabbed your hand and walked down the aisle with you, his robot in tow.
---------
You hummed happily as the two of you entered the limo. Once you were out of sight, you crawled onto Miguel's lap, pouting slightly.
"Can we do the vows later?" You asked. Miguel finally laughed, holding you by the waist,
"If you wish, but you have to keep behaving during the reception."
"Of course~"
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It's a twisted cute wedding. Miguel still won't admit that he loves reader with all his heart, but he shows it with materials.
Reader has the best wedding dress.
Best make-up artist.
Best hair stylist.
Everything has to be the best for his girl.
Hehe, hope that answered your question~~~
#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel spiderverse#miguel o’hara x reader#spiderman 2099#across the spiderverse#atsv miguel#miguel spiderman#miguel x you#miguel x fem!reader
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damn you spoil us but just some smut with the bondage you talked about and everything.. without g!p, like there needs to be more motzu fics ngll
Trouble
Momo x Tzuyu
CW: Smut, Bondage, NSFW, strap on, fingering, pussy eating, moments of fluff
Word count: 3150
A/N: I’m sorry it took so long to do this😭I had a phase where I just didn’t feel like writing smut. Hope it was worth the wait.
“Well why not”, Tzuyu asked Momo, pestering her because she wanted to do part of her mission but Momo had figured it out and was not going to fall for it.
“You know why”, Momo replied, rolling her eyes, continuing to scroll through her phone.
“Please please please”, Tzuyu asked again, shaking Momo dramatically, “I’ll do anything in return”, she promised in a hurry and accidentally ended up knocking Momo’s bottle of water over, causing it to splash over Momo’s shirt and hands. “Oh!”, Tzuyu gasped in surprise.
Momo had her mouth open in disbelief as water begin to soak into her shirt and drip off her arms. Momo took a deep breath and slowly got up, rolling up the bottom of her shirt, exposing her abs before turning to look at her.
Tzuyu had her arms folded, a defiant look on her face and she looked away, pretending that she didn’t really care but her eyes kept glancing back to Momo, specifically her abs.
Momo stood in front of her, looking down at her, “You’ve become really annoying and disrespectful you know. Never listening to me or anyone else anymore.”, saying this, Momo grabbed Tzuyu by her arms and dragged her to her room before making her sit on the bed.
Tzuyu still being a brat, just sighed and rolled her eyes, “It’s just some water….and it wouldn’t have happened if you just listened to me.”
Momo couldn’t believe what she was hearing, “Is that so….I see. Well, I’ll listen to what you said and you said you’ll whatever I wanted so now”, Momo said, going through her drawer while Tzuyu curiously watched, wondering where this was headed, “I’ll do what I want….with you”, saying this Momo grabbed Tzuyu’s hands and handcuffed them quickly.
“What….”, Tzuyu panicked at the suddenness of Momo’s action and the restraining of her hands for a moment before relaxing again, still unsure what Momo would do.
Momo pushed Tzuyu on her back causing her to yelp and climbed on top of her, straddling her before whispering in her ear, “You wanted me to do your challenge, well first you have to do mine. Don’t scream.”
Tzuyu felt her heart beginning to pound, “is…is that it?”. Momo nodded and then before Tzuyu knew it, Momo tied her handcuffs against the headboard. “What are you….”, Tzuyu began again but Momo silenced her by putting a finger against her lips.
“Your challenge has already started…do not scream until I am done with you.”, Momo said, her thumb pressed against Tzuyu’s chin. Then she began to trace her finger down, lower and lower until she reached Tzuyu’s top, threatening to pull it down.
Tzuyu watched in anticipation, curious about how far Momo would go. She was even a bit excited and when she unconsciously bit her lip, Momo smirked and pulled it down roughly, exposing Tzuyu’s tits causing Tzuyu to breathe in sharply.
Momo wasn’t done yet, in fact she didn’t even start, she moved her hand lower onto Tzuyu’s pants now, unbuttoning and pulling it off along with her top, leaving her only in her panties.
Tzuyu couldn’t help but squirm a bit, feeling quite exposed and vulnerable but stopped and softly gasped when she felt Momo’s cold finger on her navel.
“Now. We. Shall. See.”, Momo said gritting her teeth as her hands began to linger over Tzuyu’s waist and thighs, touching her lightly, sending shivers all over her and causing her to inadvertently close her legs tightly.
Momo smirked and forced her legs open, a finger tracing her pussy from the bottom to top, softly through her panties, “Close your legs again….”, Momo warned, her tone stern. She continued to gently rub, top to bottom, bottom to top, watching Tzuyu’s reaction carefully, doing this for a minute or so before suddenly adding another finger and pressing against her pussy causing Tzuyu to take a sharp breath. Momo smiled smugly, already enjoying her power over her junior immensely.
“Ah, you are doing well for now….lets see how long it lasts.”, saying this Momo slips her hands inside Tzuyu’s panties causing Tzuyu to gasp and begins to play with her clit which makes Tzuyu squirm again.
It’s getting more and more difficult for Tzuyu to not vocalize her feelings, the situation went from thrilling to arousing to straight up pleasure much too soon. It didn’t help that Momo was so good at it. The pleasure kept building up forcing Tzuyu to bite her lips and she realized just how close to cumming she was, just a moment away, so close and then Momo stopped abruptly though her hands were still on Tzuyu’s pussy, making Tzuyu whine in frustration.
As Tzuyu’s breathing began to calm, she looked up at Momo in confusion and frustration who looked back at her with a satisfied expression, “You’re doing really well so far. I guess you’ll win at this rate so I’ll just”, she begins to move her hands away, “stop.”
“N-no, please!”, Tzuyu blurted out quickly and then looked away, her cheeks coloring as she herself couldn’t believe she said that out loud.
Momo smirked, “Oh? Ok if that’s what you want.”, Momo slipped her hand back inside Tzuyu’s panties and got to work again, bringing Tzuyu to the brink very quickly.
Tzuyu was whining and moaning as Momo rubbed her, she almost couldn’t believe how good Momo was, how quick she was to making her cum. She stiffened her body, focusing so hard on not closing her legs after Momo’s warning, she couldn’t have Momo stop, not again, not right now, not when she’s so…so close to cumming. Her hands fought against the cuffs but it was of no use, Tzuyu felt her waist rise as she was getting closer and closer, her eyes closed as she braced herself for her release.
Momo smirked seeing Tzuyu act like this, knowing very well the reason for it and slowed down for a second, Tzuyu opened her eyes immediately, ready to protest but just as quickly Momo thrust two fingers in, causing Tzuyu to cum, her eyes rolled and her mouth remained open, unable to make a sound as she experienced a mind numbing orgasm, her lower body thrashing around while she was cumming. After what seemed like ages, Tzuyu finally came down from her high, panting hard, her vision blurry and she blinked slowly several times to clear her eyes.
As she began to relax, Momo wiggled her fingers against the roof of her pussy causing Tzuyu to sharply gasp and look at Momo who could only grin at her as she started to push her fingers deeper inside Tzuyu until they were knuckle deep. Tzuyu could already feel her pleasure build up rapidly, she was still a bit sensitive and it wasn’t going to take much to make her cum. And Momo was figuring that out as she began to finger her expertly. Soon enough Tzuyu began to writhe in pleasure as she came again.
Panting, she struggled against her cuffs futilely trying to regain any sort of control back, swallowing hard, she looked at Momo who had a smug expression.
“You are so…”, Momo grins, “sensitive and easy to figure out”.
Tzuyu says nothing, still trying to calm herself down, averting her eyes from Momo.
Momo chuckles, “Ahn…you’re ignoring me…that’s how you want to play right now? Okay”, she smugly grins and suddenly takes Tzuyu’s panties off, “I’ll make it so that you can’t ignore me…”, Momo decides, slowly fingering Tzuyu, almost teasingly, “but I can’t decide whether to make it so that you can’t ignore me from desperation or pleasure”, saying that Momo starts rubbing her clit with her other hand while beginning to properly finger Tzuyu.
Whining and sighing heavily, Tzuyu grits her teeth hard and tries not to focus on Momo but it’s impossible. She can’t even keep her focus off for a seconds before she’s losing her breath. Having cum a couple times already she was quite sensitive and Momo was figuring her body out so easily. As Tzuyu’s third orgasm approaches, Momo moves her hand away from Tzuyu’s clit which causes Tzuyu to sigh in relief, she’s still close but suddenly it doesn’t feel like she’s on fire. Atleast that’s what she thought for a few seconds before she felt Momo tongue on her clit instead. She let out a strangled cry as Momo sucking on her made her cum instantly. Her whole body thrashes around as she cums, experiencing new heights of pleasure as Momo doesn’t stop, continuing to finger her and suck on her clit. Tzuyu couldn’t breath anymore, it felt like her orgasmic high was never going to end. She had barely finished cumming when she was already approaching another orgasm. She couldn’t think anymore, her hands jerked around helplessly while her legs were squeezing Momo’s head involuntarily. And moments later she came again. It was overwhelmingly pleasurable now, Tzuyu’s body wasn’t prepared to handle this much stimulation at once and for a few moments Tzuyu went numb, she could think to a certain extent and wondered what happened but before she could reach to any conclusions, she was brought back when her feelings returned just in time for her to cum yet again. This was too much. Going from being numb to feeling herself cum in a matter of seconds knocked the wind out of her. She screamed in shock and pleasure as she cummed her brains out, she could feel her pussy throbbing and contracting so hard. And then Momo finally withdrew her fingers, slowed down her licking, lapping Tzuyu’s juices around slowly as Tzuyu’s legs slowly loosened around her head and Momo moved her face.
She was grinning, her face a mess from all of Tzuyu’s juices. Meanwhile, Tzuyu was breathing hard, she felt like she’d never be able to catch her breath again, her legs feeling wobbly and weak…
“You lost, you screamed…”, Momo pointed out grinning smugly.
Tzuyu said nothing, closing her eyes and focusing on breathing, her face was sweaty and flushed now.
“And because you lost. You will face your punishment”, Momo stated with finality, a hint of excitement in her voice.
Tzuyu didn’t pay much attention, she heard Momo say she lost the challenge but it didn’t matter to her right now, she just wanted to rest and relax a little right now. She felt Momo get up and mess about near the wardrobe but she didn’t care enough to see.
A minute later, Tzuyu had stopped panting but her breathing was still a bit heavy, she heard Momo come closer again and opened her eyes just in time to see Momo’s hand closing in on her face and Tzuyu panicked and jerked, trying to get up but having hands tied just made her fall back.
Momo chuckled, “Relax Tzuyu, it’s just a blindfold….”
Tzuyu stopped, unsure of what’s happening, “why..?”.
“You’ll see-or find out soon enough anyway”, Momo teased and put the blindfold on her.
Tzuyu couldn’t use her arms or see anything now, it brought out a sense of panic in her, like she was in danger, vulnerable and wanted to immediately tell Momo to stop all this and just let her go but she then she felt Momo stroke her hair and cheeks and then whispered in her ear, “It might be feeling scary right now but trust me I’m going to take good care of you”, Tzuyu then felt Momo press her lips and kiss her intensely, it caught her by surprise and she gasped but then relaxed quickly as Momo kept rubbing her cheek. They made out for a few moments before Momo pulled away. Tzuyu felt herself blush, it felt weird, feeling so restrained, not be able to see and also for Momo to kiss her like that. She kinda liked it, it made her feel strangely safe with Momo, especially when she was stroking her so gently. She didn’t want to admit it but she wanted more. Her thoughts were interrupted when Momo spread Tzuyu’s legs once again causing her to squeal in surprise and held her left leg down, strapping her thigh and then her ankle against the bed and then doing the same to the other leg.
Tzuyu was feeling embarrassed now, her whole body was practically tied up or rather, restrained and she was even blindfolded, she was so exposed…but why was that now starting to turn her on a little, she bites her lips in anticipation waiting for Momo to do something. But instead it sounds like Momo is either taking her clothes off or she’s putting something on, Tzuyu frowned as it didn’t make sense either way. Momo then got next to her, her hand brushing against Tzuyu’s waist when Momo kissed Tzuyu again, her hands cupping her cheeks and Tzuyu felt giddy and giggled.
She liked it, she really liked being kissed by Momo , she admitted to herself as she felt Momo sit infront of her legs, especially with the way Momo was cupping and rubbing her cheeks and….wait…if Momo was cupping her cheeks then what was touch her waist-
Her thoughts were brushed aside when she felt something that was most definitely not Momo’s tongue or hands begin to spread her pussy, she gasped out loud and breathed in sharply, if she wasn’t blindfolded, her eyes would have popped out of her sockets. Her fists clenched and her mouth stayed open.
“Mmmm…are you ready for it Tzuyu”, Momo said smugly as she looked down at the helpless girl. She had put on her strap on which was 6 inches long and 3 inches in girth and was poking at Tzuyu’s entrance, grinning as she knew what she was about to make Tzuyu experience.
“Ah-w-what is…”, Tzuyu whined, gritting her teeth.
“It’s my friend….who will deliver the punish on you for losing”, Momo chuckled, “Don’t worry though, I’ll be in control the whole time and make sure you don’t…suffer too much”.
Before Tzuyu could take all of that in, Momo began to push and make her take something else in, stretching her entrance and pushing the strap in making Tzuyu gasp and moan more as Momo slowly put it in, inch by inch. Tzuyu helplessly thrashed about as Momo filled her up, she couldn’t believe how full she was feeling, it was hard to breath and not being able to move or see only made everything feel more intense.
Momo gave Tzuyu some time to adjust, not moving her hips and instead used the opportunity to play with Tzuyu’s tits while Tzuyu calmed down a little. It wasn’t easy when she was filled like that and having her tits played with but Tzuyu eventually stopped breathing hard and Momo began to slowly move, thrusting slowly, giving Tzuyu all the time to get used to it and as Tzuyu’s moans got louder and more insistent, Momo started to move a bit faster, pulling out almost the whole strap before ramming it back in. It was mind numbingly good for Tzuyu, it felt like pleasure was literally being injected straight into her which it was in a way. She could only moan and whine, calling out Momo’s name every now and then as Momo now began to seriously rail her roughly.
Momo had grabbed Tzuyu by her arms and was pounding her relentlessly, enjoying the moans Tzuyu was letting out. Tzuyu was in 7th heaven, she didn’t know Momo could do any of what she had been doing to her and now she was wishing she experienced it sooner. Her toes were curling hard as she was getting close to cumming, she had lost track of how many times Momo had already made her cum today. “I’m…I-I-I’m..” Tzuyu cried out trying to let Momo know she was close.
Momo smirked, “Do it, cum for me again Tzuyu, I’ll stop if don’t do it soon.”, she kept fucking her hard, deep and rough until she heard Tzuyu cry out as she started to cum and pushed in as deep as she could while Tzuyu nearly lost her mind cumming that hard.
Tzuyu’s whole body jolted and shivered as she came from Momo fucking her, she could feel each little and big movement Momo made in her and she felt like she was cumming forever. She wanted to scream so bad with how overstimulated she felt but couldn’t because the orgasms were draining her energy and making it hard to focus. After nearly a minute, Tzuyu finally came down from her high, breathing heavily and feeling at peace, Momo’s strap still inside her.
Momo smiled and took the blindfold off of her and Tzuyu blinked hard, the lights seeming very bright and it took her a few seconds to adjust before she looked at Momo’s smiling face and then down at her own body to see Momo in her and she blushed but before she could look away, Momo kissed her passionately and Tzuyu felt blissful again, she couldn’t help but smile shyly when Momo pulled away. Momo grinned at her and began to pull the strap out, taking her time, grinding a bit even causing Tzuyu to inhale sharply and gasp before she groaned as Momo pulled it all out. Tzuyu took a deep breath and sighed, feeling a bit annoyed that Momo made such a show of pulling out that she felt somewhat horny again but she was never going to say that or admit it.
“You were such a good girl, you took it so well”, Momo teased.
“Sh-shut up…”, Tzuyu said quickly as her face flushed while Momo began to undo the restraints.
After Tzuyu’s body was free again, she stretched her limbs with a sigh and fell back down, taking a deep breath and laying peacefully but then noticed Momo staring at her.
“What…?”, she asked.
Momo rolled her eyes, “You’re really selfish you know, I did all that for you and you haven’t even thought of doing something for me”
Tzuyu blinked and then smiled, “I was just resting for a moment, of course I’m going to make you happy too. Just give me a second while you lay down too”
Momo sighed rolling her eyes and laid next to Tzuyu, she closed her eyes for a second and then immediately opened them when she felt Tzuyu climb on top of her pinning her arms over her head and holding them there with one hand while she reached for the handcuffs with the other and put them around Momo’s wrists.
“What are you doing???”, Momo demanded
Tzuyu bit her lips and grinned, “Unnie, I didn’t like how smug you were the whole time, taking advantage of me like that…I’m just going to show how it feels like…don’t worry though I’ll make you feel nice and happy like you did to me…..”
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