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gutsby · 9 months ago

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Who’s Your Daddy?

Pairing: Stepdad!Joel x Reader

Summary: You get stuck in the washing machine. Thankfully, your stepdad is around to help you out.

Warnings: 18+. Unprotected piv. Deadbeat-Perv-Peepaw LOVES corny porn tropes and women over half his age. Stepcest & dubcon technically bc Reader’s locked inside an appliance, but she’s into it (getting fucked, not stuck). One (1) kick in the dick. Spanking. Brat-taming. Choking. Daddy issues. Size kink. Praise kink. Infidelity. Creampie.

Note: Saw this post by @ovaryacted and started BARKING. For my Old Man lovers/daddy issues crew, this one’s for you.

Word count: 8.3k

It was the closest thing to porn you’d ever done before.

Still, you weren’t quite ready to call it that.

And why should you? Financial straits were no anomaly to a girl your age, especially in this economy, and almost everyone you knew had a side gig of some kind. It just so happened that your job required slightly skimpier attire. And a webcam. And some very special…accessories that would likely send your grandmother into cardiac arrest if she ever took a peek inside your bottom dresser drawer.

Okay, it was definitely porn.

But you never showed your face, so it didn’t really count as the same kind of stuff that your family condemned.

You scampered out of your room the second you heard the front door to the house slam closed all the same. Arms laden with G-strings, stockings, satin bralettes, lace and tulle bodysuits of almost every style imaginable, you ran a quick, perilous path to the living room window and made sure to keep your head ducked low as you did. You peered out through the gap in the curtains and had to squint hard to see anything in the midafternoon sun.

Then you saw it and felt instant relief—they were leaving.

Your grandma for one, your mother for second, and wherever the latter was headed, you knew her shadow would be soon to follow. You saw a thick plume of smoke outside and surmised that Joel was somewhere around the other side of the SUV, smoking and droning on about how he was perfectly fi-i-i-ne to drive, don’t be like that.

By ‘like that’ he meant sensible. And by ‘perfectly fine’ he meant two Miller Lites shy of completely shitfaced. You could already imagine the wry smile on your mother’s lips as she tried prying the keys from his hands. Your stepdad would probably plant a wet, sloppy kiss on her cheek to win a ‘yes’ in return—and when she shyly reminded him that he couldn’t afford to get another DUI, he’d get pissed and yank them out of her fist anyway.

Fucking loser.

Fucking triple-the-legal-limit dumbass motherfucker.

It didn’t bother you as much today because you knew they were only driving a couple blocks away to get to the farmer’s market, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t hope he’d get caught. Again. Maybe blow a 0.25 this time and land his old, ungrateful, law-breaking ass in Travis County Jail, where his little brother Tommy was likely keeping a cell bench warm for him, per usual.

At any rate, you didn’t have time to be fantasizing now. It was your turn to embody some guy’s grossest wet dreams for the next two to three hours. Stripping away layer after layer of your latest, tightest ‘costume’ while catering to whatever requests happened to float in your inbox, you knew you’d be up to your eyeballs in work. Though almost routine by now, you had to hurry up.

If you could just get the rest of this ridiculous gunk out of your clothing, you’d be all good to go for the job.

TRMAN22: Pour honey on your tits in the next vid???

TRMAN22: Milk too. All over you.

Looking back, you probably shouldn’t have obliged that request. Now you were facing the consequences—forced to throw all your clothes in the washing machine because the milk and honey you’d dumped on yourself for that video had gotten everywhere, and then swiftly congealed while wasting away in a pile of laundry for over a week.

The whole heap smelled rancid. Still felt sticky, too. Presently, you chucked each one inside the washing machine while holding your breath, and as soon as the last was discarded, you sniffed the shirt you had on.

Tolerable. With the rest of your stuff in the wash, you hoped to get at least one request off the checklist:

TRMAN22: Bet you’d look sexy in a schoolgirl outfit!!

TRMAN22: Why don’t you try one on for me?

It was gag-worthy and gross. Slightly alarming for a man who was more than likely twice your age and old enough to remember Watergate, but you agreed to play along. Your old school uniform was, after all, the only clean clothes you had left, and ‘TRMAN22’ was, unfortunately, your top subscriber. He’d paid $300 for this video alone.

TRMAN22: Wear some NEON pink panties for me too ;)

You squatted in front of the washing machine and stuck a hand inside. You sifted around, furrowing your brows.

The brightest undies you owned were in there, soiled, but you figured you could get away with one gross article of clothing, all things considered. You reached a little further and continued to dig. When you couldn’t find it by feel alone, you peered inside the circular, metallic cavern of the washing machine and craned your neck.

Not here…not here…not—

You tilted forward, venturing a closer look with your head, then shoulders, pushing into the machine.

—here, not here, not—

“EW!” you shrieked.

In your search, you’d inadvertently brushed up against a mildewed piece of clothing that had gotten wedged between the grooves of the washing machine’s interior.

A pair of boxers, it seemed.

You recoiled as soon as your fingers grazed the wet and smelly thing. Your skull went crack against the low-sloped ceiling of the appliance, and a jolt of pain was quick to course through you at the contact. You groaned.

Of course Joel had forgotten some old, cum-stained scrap of fabric out of his last load. Always leaving his shit around for you or your mom to pick up like he owned the place. And here you went, again, angrily plugging your nose and pulling as hard as you could on the shorts to get them free from the washing machine. You hardly thought twice, just made a face and then yanked on it.

The boxers wouldn’t budge.

You tugged even harder. The fabric stayed put.

Something akin to a grunt and a whimper, only far more pathetic, slipped out of your mouth, and you slapped the half-hollow steel wall in frustration. Surrounded as you were—fully encased in metal—the sound just echoed.

“Fucking…CUNT.”

You weren’t sure if you were talking to the shorts, the machine, or Joel Miller in the abstract. Or maybe all three. You just hated the thought of washing your lingerie with your stepdad’s skivvies, and no amount of rational thought or practical reasoning could hold you back now.

The tip of your index finger sank deep beneath the same ridge of the wall where the boxers had gotten stuck. You curled it inward, trying to loosen the material up a little. You wriggled your knuckle even further. And just when you managed to get a hold of the cusp of the tangled fabric—just when it seemed the green plaid cluster was about to give way—you heard a low pop. You felt it, too.

Shortly, your finger was pinched inside the deep, blunt valley of steel that had similarly snagged Joel’s boxers. It seemed you’d pushed the tip of your finger so far that you were caught straight down to the second knuckle—trapped between two grooves of unforgiving alloy inside the washing machine tub with no clear means of escape.

You jerked your arm back, panicked. When the metal sank its teeth even deeper, you didn’t stop. Completely heedless of the pain, you operated on impulse and by the feeling of needing to get the fuck out of that little space, quickly, and instead yanked your hand back even harder.

To your horror, your finger was stuck.

“FUCK!��

You stared down at the poor digit, only half-visible inside the wall at this point, then glanced down at the heap of sweaty, sticky, slutty pieces of clothing that were presently strewn about you, and felt an even deeper stab of dread. Stuck inside your family’s washing machine with every bit of damning evidence one could hope to have—and wearing your old school uniform to boot—you realized at once you were fucked if you didn’t get out.

You slammed your palm against the nearest wall once more, shaking your other wrist like an unruly child.

“FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK!”

You weren’t good at solving problems. In point of fact, you sucked at all things prudent resolution-related and regularly made it a habit to capitulate whenever you sensed loss inevitable. You were a little like your mother in that way, quick to give in to life’s uglier challenges. The only way you could conceivably claim to be stronger, the only place you always had the strength to say ‘no’ was—

“Aw, shit.”

—Joel.

Your throat tightened as soon as you heard the voice. Your eyes went wide, and the rest of you went numb.

Bent at the waist and kneeling with half your body inside the washing machine, you remained there, motionless. Back arched and ass out. Thanks to the way you’d rolled your old plaid skirt, the fabric covered almost zero cheek.

Someone behind you cleared their throat. Then coughed.

And coughed again, again, and again. Evidently trying to clear the smoke out of his lungs and the surprise from his eyes as he drank in your sight from the doorway.

“What in the—wh—th—” You could hear Joel wheeze, beating his chest with his fist, “What— in— the hell?!”

“Help me,” you hissed.

You weren’t sure why you chose that as your go-to. It just sounded like the right thing to say, and frankly, you weren’t sure how else to distract from the fact Joel was probably gawking at your ass as he coughed up a lung.

“The fuck do you mean ‘help’?! What are you doing?”

The coughing subsided, if only momentarily. You tried pulling back on your finger again to get out, but couldn’t.

“I-I’m…I was just…” you stammered, heart racing.

You heard the tread of heavy footfalls. You felt them.

“Just—trying…” you ventured again, suddenly at a loss for words and breath alike as you felt a presence draw in.

You could smell him.

That realization alone made you want to stop taking in air altogether. It happened out of instinct, really—feeling the shift of two huge boots settle behind your feet and then flinching inward, further inside the metal tub for…safety? A pang of abject humiliation? You were far past the point of civility with the man, caring what he thought, or fearing for your modesty in a position like this, but something about the proximity now just made you itch.

You wished your finger wasn’t jammed inside this appliance so you could give that feeling relief, somehow.

At length, Joel’s voice dragged you back:

“What’s stuck?”

Too calm. A second passed. Then he added, more stern,

“This some fuckin’ joke’a yours or somethin’?”

“No!”

“Then what—”

“My finger. My finger’s stuck.”

You tried to crane your neck to see behind you, but all your eyes had to feast upon was denim. Bluish-grey stonewashed denim, faded with years of use. Joel stood back for a second, as if considering what to do, and then you saw two hands descend to brace themselves against his knees. He bent at the waist to get a better look below.

When his eyes locked with yours, you got the same twist in your gut as you’d felt before, only sharper. Shameful.

The look on Joel’s face was abnormally bright.

“And how on earth did that happen, dumbass?”

Your shame morphed into chagrin in a blink, seeing the ghost of a smile bleed into your stepdad’s features.

“‘Cause of you, leaving your shit in here!” you snapped. Your chin jerked toward the green fabric, “I was just trying to get your boxers unstuck—and my finger…”

Your finger was kind of fucked.

Joel cast a look inside at the source of your frustration. He extended his left arm and reached over your torso, and as he did, you felt the slightest, albeit solid, sort of warmth press in. The man let out a low groan of exertion—likely at the strain the movements placed on his joints.

The warmth got worse. You weren’t sure where it started.

Vaguely, you were aware of Joel’s thumb pressing into your hand. Gliding down your finger, stroking across the spot where your knuckle had gotten caught, he circled over it, slowly, and made another sound in his throat.

“Well that ain’t…good.” Not one to mince words.

By now, your whole body was on fire. You barely had the strength to keep kneeling, much less speak to the man thumbing your hand and pressing his heat so close—

“Just get me out!” you shrieked.

You heard your mother’s voice in that. A shrill, impatient lilt in her speech that came out, invariably, around Joel. Normally, he would have done something to deserve it. But today, with his hand splayed over yours and his breaths as calm and even-keeled as he could hope to have them while he tried to help, he was blameless.

Evidently, he heard a trace of your mother too, because you heard him laugh. You felt the reverberations of his amusement travel up from his belly all the way to his lips.

“Cool your pits, kid.”

For that, you would’ve loved nothing more than to reach back with your free hand and hit him in the balls. But, as it was, this man was your only hope for escape, and he was being tolerably polite, anyway. He pinched your finger between the tips of two of his and gave it a tug.

“Okay, lemme just—” Joel started.

“Why are you home, anyway?”

The question came out more clipped than you meant it.

“Why are you dressed like that?” Joel countered evenly.

“I asked you first.”

“I asked you second.”

You reckoned he could probably feel you roll your eyes, even if he wasn’t able to see you do it right now. He waited another moment, then leaned back on his haunches and withdrew his arm from the tub.

“Mama don’t like me drinkin’ and drivin’, you know that.”

With that, the warmth was gone. Joel retreated.

“Like that’s ever stopped you before.”

You heard him exhale a little harder through his nose. When he’d steadied himself against the washing machine, gave his knees another second to prepare for getting up again, you could feel his eyes back on you. Maybe he lingered longer than his legs really needed.

Maybe if he hadn’t stayed crouched like that, he wouldn’t have gotten the chance to give your surroundings a second look. He wouldn’t have stopped to watch the rate of your breaths pick up or the way your skin startle to bristle with some strange, unknown sensation. He certainly wouldn’t have felt for himself the fever leaking out from the base of your spine right then.

Today just wasn’t the day for keeping secrets, it seemed.

“And what’s this?” You could feel Joel lean back in.

He was looking again. Peering inside. Steadying his weight with the edge of the washing machine gripped in one hand, while the other snaked its way back inside.

You’d already squeezed your eyes shut by the time Joel got a hold of something. You didn’t know what it was.

But it became painfully clear that it wasn’t just one ‘thing’ that had grabbed his attention at all, but rather a series of items that his hands were just now getting to explore. You didn’t have to see his broad and tan, callus-streaked fingers to feel them roaming over your clothes.

Gross.

“Gross,” Joel agreed, as if he’d read your mind. Grinning.

If you thought the embarrassment was bad before, you really only knew a fraction of what humiliation could be. Your finger throbbed along with the pulse in your skull.

Your mother’s husband whistled and lifted something.

“Darlin’, this is just…disgusting.”

You winced. You tried not to pry an eye open, to steal a covert look through the frame of your lashes in that dim and crowded spot, but the inducement was too great—Joel was dangling one of your lime green G-strings like it was a fish he’d just caught out on the lake. Boasting it.

Doting, almost.

“Well I’ll be—”

“Will you quit?!” you snapped.

You grabbed the thing out of his hand and threw it aside.

“Can you be serious? For one fucking secon—”

“Oh, I’m bein’ serious, sweetie,” Joel cut in. Cool as ever, “Serious as the business end of a .45, I swear.”

He paused. Then he reached for a white nylon bustier, drenched in a layer of honey that was as hard as a rock.

“Do you always keep your little…skank tanks so filthy?”

That was it. You kicked your heel back—and up—and made a pass to hit your stepdad square in the balls.

Your aim wasn’t the best it’s ever been, seeing that half your body was trapped inside a home appliance at the moment, but what your jab lacked in accuracy, it made up for in force: your foot plunged into the seam of Joel’s jeans full throttle. From the way the back of your heel plowed into his crotch, and the sound that clawed out of his throat the same instant, you reckoned you did okay.

What you weren’t expecting was a smack in return.

An answer in kind—delivered by the palm of Joel’s hand.

A taut, thoughtless THWACK on the swell of your ass.

Your mouth fell open. Your body barely had the chance to recoil when, shortly, another blow landed on your cheek.

Joel spanked you.

Spanked you.

“Fuckin’ brat,” he spat. His palm had slid up with the weight of his last slap, and now his fingers were clenched in a fist in the back of your skirt. You couldn’t see it, but you could feel him gripping fabric. It was firm.

He was firm—unrelenting in his hold.

Kneeling behind you, yanking back a handful of tartan skirt like it was nothing, then sidling up behind you.

And just when your attention was drawn to some other firm thing, it was shortly diverted by another sensation.

“JOEL!” you shrieked as he gave you another spanking.

The bare skin of your cheeks was on fire. Joel hit hard. Just when you feared you might legitimately whimper with the sting of that last blow, and while the imprint of his palm was still fresh, you felt it move again. Lower.

“Joel.”

That came out more like a whine than a cry of protest. And how could you, now, when he was soothing the raw bite of his hand with a touch that was kneading the skin?

Working the soft, supple flesh of your ass in his hand like he’d never dream of being anything else but gentle to it.

“Good?” Joel said.

Your head flinched to nod, but your brain thought better.

It did feel good. So good, in fact, that your eyelids were starting to droop just a bit and your back was subtly arching into the touch, but those were only instincts. Stupid, useless, brain-rotted reflexes born of years of paternal neglect and replete indifference, the likes of which could bring a grown man to his knees, begging—

“Please.”

But the entreaty was your own, and the voice that spoke it was hoarse. Your belly sank into the circular aperture of the washing machine, and you could feel your ribs scraping close to metal. Nevertheless, you didn’t mind. That ditzy lizard brain of yours was starved for physical touch, and who were you to deny her at a time like this?

No, not when Joel was squeezing like that.

Groping was the more appropriate word for it, really. Notwithstanding the decades of sexual experience that no doubt preceded the man that was standing before you—behind you—today, Joel was unduly coarse. His broad, weathered hand made as if to cool its former sting, but the motions themselves were jerky. Desperate.

He needed this worse than you, the fucking pervert.

Just when the realization had begun to settle over your mind and your legs were getting to feel a little less like jelly, knowing you weren’t the only weak one here, Joel’s palm slowed down. He pressed the heel of it into your flesh as if to force himself to stop, then he took a breath.

“Now use your words.”

“But—” you sputtered.

“I said,” Joel resumed, and you could sense it was through gritted teeth. His movements came to a halt.

“We use our words when we want somethin’, hear?”

It was the first you’d heard Joel attempt to enforce anything close to discipline with you in your life.

That had to warrant a little defiance, no doubt.

Under your breath, quiet: “So ‘we’ includes ‘you,’ too?”

Beneath that one, seemingly innocuous question was lurking another, and both of you knew it: Remember that time you put a fist through the kitchen wall? Was that a good example of what it means to ‘use words,’ Joel? Whether it was adequate provocation or not, you could sense what was coming next before you’d even finished. When the spank landed on your right cheek so loud that it echoed, you didn’t flinch. You did snag your lip between your teeth to keep a sound from spilling out.

“A dad makes rules. Ain’t his to follow,” Joel growled.

You blinked and bit down harder. Watched the broad, amorphous shape of the man’s reflection shift along the back metallic wall in hues of grey and blue and wished you had the strength to turn around and face him then.

“You aren’t my dad.”

“Said ‘a’ dad, didn’t I?”

“You’re not that either.”

Heat was rising to your cheeks again, this time for different reasons. For a cause you were far better acquainted with to date—annoyance at Joel.

“So that means I’m—”

“Nothing. You’re nothing to me,” you finished, tone wry.

Nothing to anyone, you wanted to add. Not with a shiny gold band latched onto your left hand to tell the world that you’re married to my mother, a pack of smokes tucked away in the jeans she washes every week, or a couple years spent under the same roof as me. Nothing.

Your teeth clamped back down—and almost sank clean through your lower lip this time—when next you felt a touch at the plush, covered mound that was normally shielded between your legs. The spot that was hardly ever tilted up in a position like this, exposed to the air and a man’s hungry gaze, now invaded by the press of a single thing: a warm and soft middle finger at your core.

Joel brushed the tip of it against your entrance, through your panties, and sucked a breath through his teeth when both of you felt a tiny squelch at the pressure.

He pressed harder, and the wetness only spread.

You didn’t have to be in Joel’s position to know what he was seeing, but the feeling from his finger overpowered any better sense to speak—or tell him to stop. He traced his slow, cruel circles against your warmth and moved it up to where he knew he’d find your bud, and when you whimpered, he simply added his index to the mix. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind you were leaking heat at that point. You could feel it seeping beneath his touch.

“Nothin’, huh?” Joel breathed, voice low. Your arousal made a sickening hiss beneath his fingers as he rubbed you even harder, “This feel like nothin’ to you, honey?”

You couldn’t speak. He knew you weren’t capable of it.

“‘Cause this sure don’t feel like nothin’ to me.”

Wet and tacky beneath his touch, your warmth supplied the answer that your mouth couldn’t form. It came out in more of a tap, tap, tap, punctuated by breaths that were toiling in earnest not to turn into moans too soon. But, as hulking and clumsy as his hands had once shown themselves to be, the old man knew where to put them, at least. He made circles on your clit with practiced ease.

“You can try lyin’ to me, but she can’t.”

He was right. ‘She’ was a traitor.

You could deny it all you wanted, but the proof was there.

Indeed, she was crying. Aching. Bleeding with desire. Throbbing beneath the pads of Joel’s fingertips and growing only more desperate as he increased the speed of his touch. When he notched the drenched cotton to the side, you had to grit your teeth to keep in a whimper.

Joel whistled.

“See? Seems like she likes me just fine right here.”

Your jaw stayed wired shut with the weight of your own humiliation. Instead of answering aloud, you hummed. Made a sound low and soft in your throat like, ‘Uh-hmm’ and tilted your hips, as if you didn’t know how else to ask. Joel couldn’t see inside the washing machine, but he must’ve felt the gesture, because he greeted it with a motion of his own: he chuckled, and he puckered his lips.

And when you felt the warmth of his spit hit you between your folds, your shame should’ve tripled. Should’ve made you flinch away from his touch and tell him that was so fucking gross, Joel, stop, but then he smeared it up your slit. He pressed in and mixed it with the rest of your arousal; any reproach died on your tongue in an instant.

A part of him was on you now. Trickling in, sticking to the most sensitive part of you, and settling into your skin like a glaze. With his other hand, he found your skirt again.

“Who’re ya wearin’ this for, sweet pea?” Joel murmured.

“No one.”

Another glob of spit landed between your cheeks. Now, the man used the lubrication to sink two fingers inside you—pushing them in until the rim of your cunt met his knuckles. You whined at the stretch, felt him coax your walls open with a consciousness and a carefulness that felt almost mean, but then he stroked down the base of your spine with the hand that still held onto your skirt. He soothed your startled cry with a curl of his fingers.

And he found the soft, spongy patch of flesh inside that made your eyes roll straight to the back of your skull, quickly. Working his fingers in and out, flattening the base of his free hand over the skin exposed by your flipped-up skirt, and watching your body give way to the force of his fingers, he was uncharacteristically patient. Exacting in the way he worked your body open to him.

“What do you care?” you groaned. You winced when you felt a squelch signal that he’d stretched you even wider.

“‘Cause,” Joel started, slow. Pumping his fingers through your folds and likely wondering when he’d add a third, “You got your hand stuck in a fuckin’ washing machine, a treasure trove of this slut stuff piled in a heap…I mean…”

“They’re just clothes!”

“Just clothes?”

In the wake of those terse, incredulous words, you tried your best to match his tone—call his bluff—but the only sound that came out of your mouth was punctured by a pitiful whine. He tried another finger but couldn’t fit it in. As wet as you were, and as strong as he was, your cunt wasn’t quite ready to accept all three of Joel’s thick, probing digits inside. You’d fit more than a thing or two with a girth even greater than that in the past, but you figured your nerves might have something to do with the way you were tightening around the man’s fingers now.

Why you couldn’t take more of him in, as much as you wanted him there, felt, at present, like something of a shortcoming, and a pathetic one at that. You let out a breath, and a second later, Joel slowed his motions.

You didn’t expect him to stop. Didn’t hold out a hope he might curtail his pace and talk you through a quiet, gentle arrangement for fitting a third finger inside you—that just wasn’t him. You didn’t have to share a paper-thin bedroom wall with your mother and her husband for the last however many years to know that Joel Miller was not a tender lover. It simply wasn’t in his nature to care.

So when you heard the clink of a belt coming undone a moment later, your senses strangely flooded with relief. He wouldn’t care, wouldn’t inquire, wouldn’t coddle with false, romantic ideals of how a woman should be treated.

In that way, Joel shared something in common with your father after all: he set standards as low as they could go.

“Just clothes?” he repeated, snapping your underwear against your ass and jerking the fabric further aside.

Then somehow send those expectations even lower.

There was a hand splayed out across the small of your back. Another fiddling with the front of his pants, wrestling the button and zip of his jeans in little more than one, two, three careless seconds, before he drew in closer to your rear. Your slit was messy, wet, and exposed to his eyes once again. For a second, you almost took comfort in the fact that your hand was still wedged inside a groove of steel and you couldn’t meet his gaze.

That was, until Joel slid his bare length along the seam of your cunt. When the inability to see him made it so you had no other choice but to be surprised when he finally touched you was unnerving, to say the least.

And when the head of his cock blended seamlessly between your folds, was drenched in less than a blink and nearly notched straight into the place you needed him most—well, that had an effect on him, too. Joel moved his flat and sweaty palm up your back, found purchase in the hem of your blouse, and gripped it. Tugged it down a little more and let a low groan billow out of his throat while he rocked his hips back and forth.

Desperate, clumsy, pussydrunk Joel was back before you’d even realized he’d left. Only now he was keen to put the disquiet and hesitations to rest; he needed to fuck you before either one of you wisened up just then.

Your parts and his commingled again. First, with the lethally warm trail of precum leaking out from his tip. Then the intrusion that followed, inevitably, glossed with self-indulgence and desperation—soiling any semblance of platonic affection or parental attention—as he fed you the first inch of him. Barely half the head got fitted inside and your grip on that was like a vice. Joel’s was bruising.

Suddenly firm on your hips, carving crescents in the skin:

“When’s the last time you got fucked, baby?”

You reckoned Joel had a guess—and it wasn’t correct.

“Last…week,” you whimpered, words punctuated with a sigh as his cock tried to make room for more of him.

Joel sucked in a breath that almost sounded like a laugh. He’d barely gotten an inch past his tip, facing more resistance than he’d felt in a long, long time, and you were wet, but so tight. He was big but not so massive as that. He couldn’t fathom what you were saying was true.

“That…fratboy fuckstick you went out on a date with?”

“Didn’t think you even saw me leave.”

Joel withdrew, gripped your hips even tighter, then drove his cock to nestle three solid inches inside your cunt. It was extra snug, but he made sure to try to loosen you up with a couple short, shallow thrusts and a hand gradually drifting down between your legs. Of course he saw you.

The circles on your clit and slow-growing movements may as well have been kerosene in your veins. With what limited range of motion you had in that grey, compact space, you let out a sigh and dug the fingers of your free hand into the closest scrap of fabric beside you. Joel’s own touch gradually moved from your hip to drag your hand behind your back, clasping his. He fucked in deeper

“So that’s who this is for?” Thumbing your skirt.

“Y-Yeah,” you lied.

“Wanted to send naughty pics in the schoolgirl getup?”

“Yes,” you lied again. You closed your eyes when Joel sank his cock even deeper and made you stretch inside.

“‘Atta girl,” he praised.

It might’ve been the first he’d validated you in your life.

“Grippin’ this cock extra tight, ain’t ya, sweet girl?”

Never in a million years would you have imagined it’d come this late—or leave Joel’s mouth in a way like that.

‘Elastic’ wasn’t a word you’d ever used to describe your body, either. Frankly, there was no need for it to be; every one of your partners before had been average-sized, and every other object that went inside you, too, had almost always been a comfortable squeeze between your walls. Outside of maybe your first time and a once-off awkward hookup now and again, you were never forced to feel a stretch to this degree. Joel felt huge moving inside you.

He was nearing your cervix and still nowhere close to the base of his cock. Meanwhile, you were stuffed to the brim, saturated with arousal and his spit, and practically keening at every stab of his hips. You couldn’t reach back because Joel’s fingers were still enmeshed with yours, gripping them hard behind your back. As wore down, fucked out, and desperate as you already were, you were less than only a second away from asking him to ease up.

And then he stopped.

Joel pulled out, let go, and pressed onto the old washing machine, where you heard his touch echo through metal.

He was leaning against it. You were about to turn around. Before you could, though, you felt his form mold into yours—this time not in it, but on it, as he drew closer and once more reached into the space where you were stuck.

“Can you be brave for me, baby?” Joel murmured.

“Wh—” you started, soft, only to feel the words plucked straight from your lungs as Joel leaned his body inside. Carefully, and with concerted effort, it seemed, he was trying to squeeze his way into the O-shaped hole of the washing machine, snaking his arm around your torso.

Pinching your finger again. Breathing just gently enough for his exhales to tickle at your shoulders and your neck.

“Can you be brave?” he repeated, and you weren’t sure you’d ever heard him so soft-spoken, or felt him so close.

You nodded, not knowing why.

Without another word, your stepdad pinched the digit even tighter and yanked it out from where it was stuck.

It all happened so fast. Joel freeing your finger, squeezing it tight, helping you out of that hot and crowded space while your legs gave way like mush beneath your weight—and your hand throbbing in pain. You’d never thought a single finger could cause a feeling as strong as that, but it stung like hell. You almost raked your nails through the man’s arm when he tried to hold you back, holding you up just as well as you stood.

“Joel!” you screeched, like the whole thing was his fault.

You flexed your hand and wanted to sob. You could feel the streaks of pain start to claw up your wrist, were just about to shove Joel aside and wallow in agony, when at length, he did something strange and unexpected again.

This time, he lifted your index to his mouth and kissed it.

It wasn’t a sensual kiss. Coming from Joel, it hardly even seemed affectionate. His lips were so warm and firm and decidedly unacquainted with anything approaching a threat of tenderness that his act read almost aggressive. He let your finger rest loosely against his mouth, and he kissed it again, while his eyes burned holes into yours.

‘You’re okay’ came out muffled against your hand.

“You’re okay—hey—baby, you’re good. Don’t cry.”

You hadn’t even noticed the tears had started to form. You blinked and felt one trickle down your cheek. With the hand that wasn’t holding your wrist, Joel brushed his thumb against that lone trail of moisture. He didn’t cup your face, hold you close, or stroke your cheek in the seconds that followed, though he did keep kissing you.

Or, rather, it—your finger.

Joel didn’t have to care for you at all. He just feared he might’ve pulled on your hand too hard in getting you out.

‘You’re okay’ was being mumbled away like a fractured refrain, touch descending gently to your hip, and his eyes grew softer by the second, surely he had to be thinking it.

Sinking inside you, again. He was standing; your hips were tilted to his, and your ass was pressing flat against the front of the washing machine. All it took was an inch or two off the ground and your limbs hanging limply around his hips for Joel to fuck back into you. He sucked on your finger so hard you feared the skin might actually bruise—a hand hickey, of all fucking things—and when his grip tightened on your side, you knew he felt it too.

His teeth succeeded his lips in an instant, and he was biting, gnawing pathetically as a groan shuddered through his chest. If you didn’t know better, you might’ve said the sound was veering perilously close to a whimper.

Fully sheathed inside you, Joel Miller didn’t seem to care. His lids fell like lead across the upper half of his brown, glossy eyes, and the expression behind them was blank.

Safe.

“‘S’alright, baby,” he grunted. Maybe he’d just seen you wince, as he cradled your hand and withdrew another inch, “Keep squeezin’ me, it feels real good. Right here.”

Out of instinct, your gaze drifted down to the spot where his body joined with yours. The sight was hardly a shock, but the feelings it evoked were not—he had you split along two-thirds of his dick, a pretty shelf of belly protruding beneath and gleaming with the arousal he’d drawn out from your body. Tufts of silver and grey littered his skin in every direction, aged muscles tensed with the weight of each thrust, and the warm weathered hand that hadn’t dared touch you once before today was now cupping your chin. Tilting your head closer to him.

“Right here, baby. Look at daddy.”

Wild, unbridled heat flooded your brain in a second. The thing seared the insides of your skull with all the force of a fire and stole the air from your lungs just the same—still, you couldn’t refrain from making a face in disgust.

“What the fuck, Joel?” You shouldn’t have liked it.

His hand ascended your throat in a blink.

“Ain’t that what you want, sweet pea?”

“I—”

Just as you started to answer, though, his cock took a dizzying plunge, hitting exactly the right spot inside you. Like clockwork, your mouth fell open, a whine tumbled out, and Joel took that as his chance to grip your neck even tighter and push your hips against the washing machine, where his height afforded him an easy hold.

“What you want—”

He squeezed harder.

“—what you need—”

You gasped, starved for air. It wasn’t every day a man took your breath away. Not like Joel could, anyway.

“—is me, ain’t it?”

The gaze fixed on your face was alight with desire.

“Bet you miss him somethin’ awful, huh? Been needin’ a man to fill that spot ever since he left, haven’t ya, baby?”

‘He’ required no further clarification. The words stung. You communicated as much by wriggling your hips back and pressing your hand against Joel’s chest, just quit it.

Keep fucking me, but shut the fuck up about my father.

“I don’t miss shit,” you sniffed. Felt the head of Joel’s cock carve a shape somewhere deep inside your body and couldn’t pretend it wasn’t filling a metaphorical void someplace else. You hadn’t got this much attention from a man as many years your senior since…well, ever, really.

You preened beneath his touch. Wanting to feel. Wanting to please. Wanting, more than anything, to be needed.

Joel sated each craving with a simple hand smoothed over your face. His palm moved from your throat to your chin to the hinge of your jaw before coming to rest at the nape of your neck. This time squeezing lightly, bringing your face in close while he fucked you. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, and your stomach tightened inside you.

“That’s alright,” he said, words hardly above a whisper, “No need to miss that man at all, ‘cause I’m right here.”

For once the assurance came as somewhat of a comfort. You suspected it had something to do with the fact he was balls deep inside you and pushing you closer and closer to the brink of release with each painstaking stab of his cock. You fisted his flannel, holding him there. Spreading your legs, accepting his thrusts, taking each movement with ragged, shallow breaths and moans that blended with his own, you felt your body grow warmer.

Almost febrile beneath him as he tilted your head again.

“Who’s your daddy now?”

You winced, shaking your head. You hated that word.

“Who’s your daddy?”

Joel lowered his hand and began to thumb at your clit. Hot pleasure coursed through you, made you whine at the contact and dig your heels even deeper in his back.

“Who’s your daddy, baby? It ain’t that hard to say.”

But it was. Joel stroking your clit, stuffing you full, ghosting his lips against yours without ever furnishing a kiss, just goading you on with: ‘I know you wanna say it.’ Tough grey stubble teased your mouth with each word.

“I know she needs to cum, sweet girl. Know that poor little pussy’s taken a beating—and she’s done so good for me—but she needs to let it out now. All over me.”

His gaze held yours. You couldn’t turn away.

An unmistakable tenderness pervaded that look, and it didn’t seem keen to depart. No matter how tightly you pursed your lips, made fists in his shirt, or choked his cock between your walls in fluttering, desperate pleas, the man remained calm. Attentive. The eyes didn’t stray.

“It’s okay to say it.”

“C-Can’t—”

“Sure can. Be the easiest thing you ever do—D-A-D-D—”

“Please. Please.”

You hardly even knew what you were asking for at this point, only beholden to that big, swollen something in your tummy starting to give way beneath the push of Joel’s cock. Tightening up, leaking out, practically drooling down the length of this man who seemed relentless in his current pursuit. Two more circles on your clit and you were keening, whimpering pathetic as ever:

“Pleasepleasepleaseplease.”

“Say it now. Who’s it for?”

Above you, Joel’s teeth gleamed in a smile—or a snarl, you couldn’t tell. All you knew was the pleasure, the concomitant pain of having to contain this desperation while his thrusts sped up. You were bouncing on him, getting fucked against the washing machine in the raw and terrible central Texas heat wearing a sheen of sweat and a set of clothes that no longer fit your body, but that was just fine. You were okay. Joel was here, and he was holding your head, lips hovering less than an inch away.

“Who’s. Your. Daddy?” His words were slow. Coarse. Spilling into your mouth with every short puff of breath.

You couldn’t take it. You felt a band of pressure come to a head in your belly and the brush of Joel’s cock making its rounds in and out of your swollen cunt, pushing hard, and you knew that you’d had enough. He knew it, too.

“Y-You.”

“Who?”

“Joel.”

“Who?”

Your wet, pearly slick rang a deafening pitch. Enough.

“You, daddy! Daddy—please, fuck—I-I-I’m gonna cum.”

“Gonna cum for me? Make a mess of your old man?”

“Make a m-mess— yes, daddy, yes—” you slurred.

Joel drove his cock, fully coated in you, down to the hilt. He captured your lips in a kiss and didn’t even mind your mouth was whining, hissing, whimpering its filthy pleas for him to fuck a nice, big orgasm out from your body.

“—want yours inside,” you added, without realizing it.

“Sweet girl…” Joel groaned.

You didn’t know what you were asking him for. How badly he wanted it, too. His cock dragged in and out of your precious cunt and was barely more safe from the threat of its grip when you spasmed, at the last. Joel should’ve expected no less, after all the time he’d spent teasing and edging, then begging you gently, in grunts, ‘Cum for daddy, baby. Let me have it, that’s it, good girl.’ Still, somehow, he wasn’t prepared in the slightest.

When you squeezed your eyes shut and kissed him back—that was all it took. When you clenched on his cock, gave the front of his shirt a tug, locked your ankles about his hips so you could more properly increase that friction by fucking him back, grinding in place, he feared he might fairly make an irreparable, unforgivable mistake.

And when the whites of your eyes appeared again—eyelids fluttering open while your lips were glossed with his spit and a lazy smile—and said what you said next, he sensed that his fate was sealed. The old man was fucked.

“Cum inside me, daddy. Please.”

Joel couldn’t have stopped himself if he tried. He shuddered, then flooded your insides with rope after rope after rope of his spend, burying his face in your neck and taking your hips in his hands like a looser grip might lose you to him forever. He fucked his cum deep, deeper, darlin’ don’t move, can’t lose a drop, baby, please, he let out a whimper that made your walls pulse again. You felt him fill you to the brim and keep rutting his hips. Your body and his were shaking by the last of it.

And when he was finished, Joel dropped a kiss along your limp, glistening lips. He slid you back on the metal. By the expression on his face, it was plain to see he was loath to withdraw, but he had to. That tender little hiss and the sounds of your shared fluids trickling out were all the impetus he needed to act quick. As soon as he’d pulled out, Joel was back leaning against the washing machine—tilting your hips back a little, then lowering his sweaty, handsome head to the spot between your legs.

The wrinkles to the sides of his eyes grew more pronounced when he smiled. A happy grin, plastered across his lips, would have struck you as almost smug, were it not for the look of sheer adulation that followed it.

Joel was enthralled, watching his cum leak out of you. He kissed your thighs, flickered his gaze to your own, briefly, then damn near sank his nose inside the place he was watching before your fingers stopped him cold.

It was your body, after all. He had already had his fill.

Hardly knowing what came over you in that moment, you sank two fingers inside your wet, drooling hole and watched the eyes of the man beneath you go wide. He soaked in that sight completely: you pushing his cum back in, drawing it out, using the viscous white liquid as a lubricant of sorts before releasing a pleased little sigh.

Joel closed his mouth reluctantly. It took him more than a second to tear his eyes from that place, but when he did, the motions were quick to grow assured, by turns.

As if remembering something.

In a second, the innocent smile you’d seen before was being infiltrated, slowly, by a look you couldn’t place. Joel’s grin morphed from gentle to contented to plainly enthused and beaming ear-to-ear with a conceited glint. With his finger, he tugged your panties back into place.

“Baby—” he started, only to be cut off lightning-quick.

“What? What is it?”

His smile stretched even wider. By that act alone, you were half-tempted to forget the events of the last hour and set your jaw in a scowl. You looked down, unamused.

“What?”

“It’s just…” The man trailed off, and as he did, his gaze descended with it—straight down to your bare pantyline.

You cast a look there too—“What the fuck is it, Joel?!”

At that, two brown eyes flitted back up to you.

“I thought I asked for neon pink underwear, baby.”

Your breaths slowed. His gaze didn’t waver. Your heart came to a standstill in your chest, and you were amazed you had even half your present willpower then to speak.

“Wait, Joel, wh—”

“Shame you couldn’t get around to filmin’ today. Had me hard as a fuckin’ rock with all that milk and honey stuff.”

You nearly choked on your spit. Joel kept grinning.

“You’re—”

The guy. That fucking subscriber. The one who’d paid almost $500 in commissions in the last month alone.

You stared at Joel with eyes as wide as saucers, and were about to press on, when you heard the front door to the house shriek back on its hinges. Two sets of footsteps followed it, and their entry inside was loud.

Immediately, Joel rose to his feet. It seemed that grin wasn’t meant to stay long on his lips, because the next thing you knew, he was dropping a kiss somewhere soft and sweaty on your face and flipping your skirt back into place, holding his index up to his lips and stepping away. Your mouth twisted into a frown but stayed zipped out of sheer necessity. Seeing this, and likely unable to help himself, your gross, depraved, grinning old man leaned back in and planted his hands on either side of your hips on the washing machine. His nose nudged into your own.

“Between us—” he began, slowly.

“Get fucked,” you finished for him.

Joel nodded his assent, smirk faint. He cast a look over his shoulder, and, hearing what sounded like your mother’s footsteps drawing closer, lowered his voice.

Rubbing his thumb under your chin, making you tip your head back to meet his for one final look—then a kiss:

“You keep my secret, I keep yours, alright?”

—

Note: I’ve never done a real writing challenge before, but hopefully this fic will work for #hotdilfsummerchallenge !!! @hellishjoel this is such a fun ass idea & i hope you enjoy❣️

#‘WHAT ARE YOU DOING STEP BRO????’#BUT IT’S JOEL #AND HE’S VERY CONFUSED BUT ALSO VISIBLY ER*CT #don’t ask me to elaborate because i have no idea what i just wrote #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #joel miller #joel miller tlou #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel tlou #the last of us fic #the last of us #tlou #stepdad joel #hotdilfsummerchallenge

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syluses · 2 months ago

Text

ataxia

sylus x fem reader

⤷ sylus wants kids, sweetie. lots of kids.

kind of a part 2 to this piece, but it can still serve as a lil standalone as well ♡ DAD SYLUS DAD SYLUS DAD SYLUS

cw ▻ nsfw, dubcon, breeding, pregnancy mentions, daddy kink, im a strong believer in sylus wanting a big family, whipped sylus, characters depicted are 18+, stockholm syndrome, yandere/obsessive tendencies, ~2.5k words

notes ▻ eeee they fr live in my head rent free </3 anyways take this crumb while i work on like other fics. daddy sylus is actually KILLING me like always on the noggin 😵‍💫

𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒔, 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔, + 𝒓𝒆𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅 ♡

There’s a certain peace you feel, curled up on the leather couch, in watching your husband sit on his knees as the little ones crawl around the carpet, playing with them no different than a toddler would.

Not exactly a pleasant peace, by any means, but a simple, sort of resigned one. Your muscles seem to lose the tension, shoulders always piked high, ready for attack- or some other (meta)physical blow- slumping into rounded blades. You sigh.

Perhaps it’s the knowing that whatever bad thing that could’ve come- already has. Now, you’re experiencing the sloping aftereffects of it.

And this—

Sylus, with a beaming grin, letting out an almost breathless laugh as he scoops up one of the boys and twirls him overhead, the other kept by a protective hand at his side so he won’t bump on the corner of the coffee table—

Is just the fallout.

Ruby-red eyes flit over (and they always do sooner than later, like you’re a beacon in the middle of a dark sea) and crinkle at the edges. You’ve told him before that you don’t like when he throws the babies up in the sky like that, that if they were to suddenly fall, they can’t take flight like Mephisto. He must remember, because he lets out a little, woeful noise and carefully lowers him.

The smile remains, though, kilowatt and wide, a little starry-gazed like he’s inviting you to slip off the sofa and join him on the fluffy rug with your children.

The fatigue natural to post-pregnancy has already claimed you tonight, though. Truth be told, you’d have hesitated even if it didn’t. It’s fine, tending to your children on your own; his long absences leave you with massive windows of alone time with the little ones, and you actually enjoy it (save for the huge toll it takes on your energy, of course, but Luke and Kieran lend a hand where it counts- where they’re allowed).

That sentiment changes a bit, though, when your husband does get home. With his presence comes the cold reminder of how things really are, how you’re still an unwilling counterpart in all this- frilly gowns and jewels and the private chef he hires for fancy dinners (because he has the money for it) be damned.

You want to go home. That wish, hollow as it is, still stands.

…Even if it’s started staggering, in these last few months.

He’s always been more than content with just the two of you, but in the last several weeks, you compare Sylus’s emotional state to a suitcase packed too full, joy spilling out the sides. Evidently, he doesn’t try to close the zipper; he lets it happen with gladness, with his hands open and lifted, but you’re not sure he entirely knows what to do with himself. With these significant developments that are just as new to him (possibly even more, as much as that flummoxes you) as they are to you.

It’s as weird as it is endearing to see what having two children (twin boys, funnily enough) will do to your husband. But if there’s one thing you learned about Onychinus’s illustrious leader in the past couple years of your marriage—

It’s that he does not settle for less.

And when he draws closer, both little ones secured in his lap- dozing off because it’s already thirty minutes past their bedtime- and lifts your hand to place a chaste kiss there, rubbing your knuckles dotingly…

You can tell there’s something more he’s craving.

✿

“A girl,” he moans.

Sometimes- after you’ve just put down the boys for four consecutive nights in a row before collapsing in bed, your lover hardly having the opportunity to show his affections, all but guilted into letting you catch up on your sleep- it’s almost easy to forget how Sylus feels, your brain willing it away. How good he fucks you.

If you’re being more general- how good he takes care of you.

“Give me a girl this time, sweetie, just-“ a gasp, “one more.”

And vaguely, in the haze of sweat and burning hands, his thick, long cock plunging in and out of you deeply- slowly- your juices and his pre slicking between you, sticky as molasses, you wonder to yourself if he’s even convinced of that himself.

Just having one more, you mean.

The twins were unexpected: that right there is an understatement. You were hardly prepared for one rascal- all the countless evenings he spent buttering you up, so attentive, and then cumming into you with whispered vows to knock you up be damned— but when the xray revealed not one misshapen, little form in your womb, but two?

It was a bombshell.

Sylus, beside you (on the leather couch downstairs with your personal doctor he paid God knows how unreasonable a sum to show), had squeezed your hand in his and tried to mask half of his joy. The priority was in comforting you, helping you to realize that this was a good thing- a beautiful thing- that your life was not officially over and- hey, don’t worry, hasn’t he taken good care of you thus far? Surely, adding a couple little ones into the equation wouldn’t suddenly make it impossible.

You’re both very capable people, honey. Even more so together, with him. (Well, he assures you as much, anyway.)

Whether or not he could take care of you was never exactly the worry, though. The worry was that you’d be under his hand forever— and a baby? (two, you strictly correct. Two babies) You could kiss the last hope you had of ever weaseling out from his grip, or luxurious manor, goodbye.

He must know it, buried deep in the back of his head underneath the genuine layers of desire to simply start a family with you, his beloved girl, and flesh out more of a solid, burgeoning life; the silent promise underlying the pregnancy tests and inpromptu housecalls of your poor, overworked doctor.

That a family ties you to him forever.

A tether that’s damn near impossible to cut yourself loose from, even if you stood a punching chance at it to begin with. Glues you together in a way that even marriage doesn’t quite scratch the surface of. Your bond is perpetuated by blood, now. Flesh and bone. Your DNA, warped with his to create—

Monstrosities—

No, a harsh voice in the corner of your skull surprisingly snips back. They’re not monstrosities, far from it. All previous qualms nudged aside (and you had a lot, to be clear; hours spent sobbing and pushing helplessly at his chest as Sylus crooned and wrapped you in his arms proves that), doubts surrounding parenting and your own self preservation- your children are beautiful, that’s true. Healthy. Perfect.

If you’re being honest with yourself, and choose the high road here (the high road means willfully forgetting how involuntary this whole arrangement was in the first place)- they’re positively adorable. With his white hair spiking on their heads but your eyes and lips- and a shared penchant to land themselves into trouble, places they shouldn’t be before either of you stoops over to lift them out. Albeit, you’ll admit that their noses are still up for debate; it’s hard to pinpoint the resemblance when their faces are endearingly round, too chubby to really tell in this stage, but you secretly hope they’ll take after you in that regard.

You… don’t know how you’ll continue to operate if staring at your children is like staring at a mirror image of their father.

But… I mean, they’re fucking innocent in all this—

Your precious boys aren’t like their father. They… won’t be. You’ll make absolute sure of it.

“One more,” he chants, sucking in a long, thin breath through perfect teeth. And damn it all he feels good. So good. Maybe he had more than just one selfish, substratal reason for populating your otherwise fairly quiet home. Because you’re more obedient lately, wanting for it, almost… It gets him riled up in ways he could not begin to articulate. Hesitant still (sometimes he has this awful, basal fear that it’ll never go away, your trepidation towards him)- but sugar-sweet when you lie on the silken bed and present yourself with bashful cheeks that tell Sylus you hate yourself for it but have no real control in the moment.

You moan so prettily for him when he pries your thighs apart and presses them either side of your head, fashioning you like a butterfly, to slide in and out of you with ease. Melodic. Maybe he’s tone deaf to all songs save for you because he knows you, knows you like the back of his hand, pitch and lilt; he could pick out the voice of you in a crowd full of whooping people, he thinks.

Again, you blame your excitement on what he’s done to you. The twins’ pregnancy, the fluctuating hormones that have you bouncing between hysterical sobs and yanking your wide-eyed husband into impulsive, suffocating kisses before his fingers quickly settle around your middle. All the gentle erosion that he’s guided you through across the span of almost two years has left you worn and vulnerable.

But you suppose if something were to ever encourage a deeper bond- strengthen it- what else would it be than to take a man’s seed inside your womb and gift him with a bunch of unruly but cute kids? That’d gnaw away at just about anybody’s inhibitions, even if it grudges you to admit that. It lessens what remnant you held onto of this idea of ‘autonomy’, makes you fully lean onto him.

Sylus takes that news much, much better than you.

It’s… got to be more than physical between you now, you think distantly as he bullies his cockhead against your smooth walls, stroking a spongey spot in the bulwarks of you that makes your head go kaput. Like something spiritual, perhaps. He’s joined his soul with yours and that’s why you’ve been so obedient lately, so needy, clinging onto him and making his back your own personal scratching post as he plays at the idea of impregnating you again.

Oh, fuck, he’s such a bastard you hate him you hate him you—

You suppose your baby girl, inevitable to come somewhere down the line- whether that means during the next pregnancy or the third- won’t be like him, either.

She’ll be a sweetheart, and soft. Perhaps she’ll inherit her daddy’s crimson eyes or his smooth, sharp tongue, his inclination for success, but she’ll carry her mother’s heart with her. She will be kind.

Until someone like her daddy comes along. Flips her world on its head.

(And you know that having Sylus as her daddy would be the simple fact that staves off all potential men intending to prey on her, but still, the thought remains, niggling and bitter.)

“Take daddy’s cock, sweetie,” he goads, breath shot right from his lungs as he traps you beneath him- not that you’ve much the will to resist anymore- and moans over you. “You’ll take what he has to offer, won’t you? Your pretty belly will take all of it in?”

Tears prickle at your eyes when his flit down to your tummy, pupils swelling wildly as his jaw sets tight. He hisses through clenched teeth, cock giving a hot pulse accordingly.

It’s not difficult to imagine the bump there, the mound that’s not yet formed over a for now slim belly and wrinkled skin (stretch marks that you loathe but he worships on most nights, with your heels over his shoulder and his tongue lapping greedily at your pussy, palms kneading the flesh with reverence). It’s hardly been six months since you had the twins (a home birth, he’d insisted, because it was safer that way, more sterile, less stressful for you), but Sylus finds himself pining for your body to adapt to his seed again, for your breasts to plump and your stomach to round, your skin to glow.

(Your hands to reach for him because your emotions have been sat on one long rollercoaster ride and you can’t help whatever the fuck is going on inside you.)

“Sylus—“ You mewl, panting as he knocks his forehead to yours- with a whit more force than you think he’d meant, but he’s a little dazed right now, and your pussy feels so good, so don’t hold it against him, kitten- and grunts back. “Yes?” He breathes, and you liken the sound to a gust of wind, powerful and shaking.

“I- I don’t know,” you all but wail, desperately trying to tamp down your sounds of pleasure before they can escape. You’re failing.

Your reticence is for a number of reasons. First of all, your boys are just down the hall, swaddled in their respective cradles under their rotating airplane fixtures and sleeping soundly. You don’t have any intentions of changing that- especially for something as stupid and pathetic as essentially whoring yourself out to their father (and you’re not a whore, but you can’t help but feel like one when you start to bask in the attention he gives you- your hormones post-pregnancy compelling you to do all sorts of wild things).

And secondly, Luke and Kieran don’t renown you as stubborn for no reason, or your husband, lovingly, as a drama queen— and there’s a defiant part of you that does not want to see the satisfaction on his face when you start to crumble under his ministrations and open your mouth about it.

But all that, for Sylus, is a wonderful work in progress.

And if we’re to be crystal, for as much as the N109 Zone’s number one magnate prioritizes the end goal, he thoroughly enjoys the process.

“You don’t know what, Sweetie?” He whispers. It’s all he can manage right now, you’re squeezing him so tight. In that moment, the fog parts, and he knows with a hundred percent certainty that you do not want him to leave. Yes, your cunt is saying as much, and he rewards it with a carefully angled thrust right against your g-spot, but your face tells no different a story.

You’re beautiful. Perfection embodied. Makes him lose his breath a little.

“I-If I want a girl,” You heave. “If I want one at all.”

Something like dejection passes across his handsome visage then, or maybe it’s uncertainty that weakens the tight knotch in his brow as he inwardly struggles- between his approaching climax and the single mind he’s got to stuff you full of his release- for an appropriate answer. He doesn’t want to anger you. Doesn’t want to make you hate him, no, especially not when you’re finally starting to dip your toes in his waters after all his painstaking efforts to make you comfortable. Oh, God knows Sylus would kick himself for that.

…But this will be good for you. Having another, he means. It’ll be good for the both of you and if you’d just let him show you—

He’s painted the perfect demonstration of that quite well with the boys, hasn’t he? In this past handful of months, you’ve never looked happier and you’re positively glowing and all Sylus has ever wanted was to see your pretty face light with that dazzling, little smile. The twins he’s given you, unbidden as they initially were through your lens, make you so, so happy.

This will be so, so good.

Perfect.

If you’d just give in.

Oh, you’re so maddening sometimes but he adores you, every part and piece. He stoops over so his damp lips brush the lobe of your ear, the perspiration dotting his temple wetting your flushed cheeks. He croons, “You do. You do want it. I’ll show you, kitten, just how bad you need it. The twins need a sister, don’t you think? They won’t know anything other than playing rough, if not.”

Your fingertips squeeze into the lean planes of muscle of his back. He’s burning up, near feverish what with the heat sweltering between your sandwhiched bodies, but he gives a shiver in response like he’s enduring temperatures below freezing.

Panic, beneath the misty veneer of pleasure that makes your face go slack- and the subtle, inexplicable flash of something that almost convinces you Sylus is right, that you do want it- slips into the forefront of your muddled brain. Reaches a hand through the dirt and revives itself, reminding, no, no, you don’t want this, you don’t want him, you don’t want—

You let out a delicious gasp as he spears into you, the flesh of your thighs dimpling as he presses down the undersides of them. Firm, but gentle. It’s true, you’ve become considerably more flexible since meeting him- since having to accommodate him- but he’ll never give you anything more than you can take.

You’d never admit it, but there’s almost a little bit of comfort in knowing that.

“I-I’ll make sure they know how to play nice,” you force out, taking your lower lip in your mouth and suckling as the telltale rush of your climax draws nigh, hardening in your belly as it builds. “I’ll make sure they know how to be gentle, Sy!” Foreign to your own ears. Your voice is horrid as you belatedly register it, all sniveling and gasping- downright pathetic as you cling onto him for dear life and he ruts into you like a dog in heat.

You’re grasping at straws now, you know, but for as feeble as your excuses are, you hope they hit their mark. That they’ll get him to reconsider-

“But sweetie,” he breathes tenderly, “you’re already making sure I’m gentle,” he reminds in a pleasant voice, edged with the remnants of a self control that unravels at a steady pace. “How will you juggle between the three of us? Hm?”

His cockhead, fat and precise, catches on that spot in you that makes you go positively crazy and your eyes flutter back. You let out a strange, choked sound that he marvels at before he capitalizes on the reaction completely, buffetting away at the final walls you’d erected against him tonight.

All are near crumbled.

“I’ll find a way,” you nearly squeak- high-pitched and unconvincing because his mind’s already made- before he’s lolling your jaw back towards him and smashing his lips to yours in a decadent kiss, silencing your protests- for as weak as they are.

It’s close to visceral, the contact, wet lips melding hungrily with yours, trading groans and mewls as he effectively pistons his hips into you and paints colorful stars across the black span of your eyelids. In a word- invasive. Torpefying, all your limbs unfurling and slipping away from him in favor of curling into the sheets as your release approaches at whirlwind speeds, blunt fingernails clinging onto you so tight there’ll be bruises formed tomorrow- as well as an apologetic, rueful sigh on Sylus’s end, because he swears to God he’s trying to hold back—

Fucking mind-numbing.

And isn’t that just what you need? A quiet conscience? A shot of morphine fed through a needle straight into the veins, an emotional kind of tranquilizer or- or something to moderate the snarled mess your heart’s become all because of him—

It seems he’s cognizant then, pupils dilated madly as he finally blinks, of the hands that clench too tight- withdrawing them immediately from your thighs (regrettably, they remain cleaved open in a willing offer for him, shaking and red with his prints) to loop your wrists either side of your head. Holding your hands. Ever the romantic. You almost laugh, seconds off from that white-hot tidal wave of pleasure, at the irony of it all. Onychinus’s formidable, takes-no-bullshit leader, fucking you with all the grace of a big clumsy dog but all the love of one too— loyal and determined, bleeding heart on his sleeve.

He’s still kissing you, sucking on your tongue filthily, and all you can think of is waking the boys sleeping soundly next door how exquisite it feels, his thick member dragging in and out of your walls like it’s his right. Sylus certainly believes as much.

He’s ruined you too good for anyone else; you’re starting to believe it, too.

“There you go, kitten!” He gasps. “Let go. Just- fuck- let go for daddy. Such a good, good girl. Such a good mommy, you are. Our- oh, fuck, that’s it, that’s it, perfect- Our little girl will be so, so lucky to have you.”

When he comes, you do, too.

#love and deepspace #lads x reader #sylus x reader smut #sylus smut #love and deepspace x reader #lads smut #love and deepspace sylus #sylus #sylus x you #sylus x reader #yandere #lads sylus #sylus qin #calebrity #okay now i PINKY PROMISE next sylus fic will be a new concept #just had to get this off my mind whew #‧₊ 🍰.┊𝒄𝒂𝒌𝒆𝑓𝑖𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛

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wonderthor · 11 months ago

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your neighbor sukuna who lives in one of the apartments upstairs may be a rough and dangerous man, but he’s funny and nice to you, so you become friends anyway. you even develop a little crush on him, and when he calls you little pet names like sweetheart and doll, you start to think he might like you too. one night you decide to go out for drinks, and as he drinks more he lets out more about his past and you learn he is a little more dangerous than you thought. he talks about how he broke into people’s houses at night all the time to steal their things and when he finally did get caught and locked up, he had probably broke into over 200 people’s houses by then.

“that’s crazy, but you wouldn’t get that lucky with me though”

he sets his beer down, raising his eyebrow at you in question.

“what do you mean?”

“i mean that im a very light sleeper, always have been. and there’s no way you couldn’t break into my apartment without me knowing it.”

he picks his beer back up and takes a swig before looking back at you with a smirk.

“you sure about that?”

you confidentially smirk back at him.

“oh absolutely. i get woken up if the wind blows a little too hard against the window. i even woke up that one time i had a mouse in my apartment and i could hear it scurrying across the floor. i would definitely hear you open my door and walk around.”

sukuna taps his fingers against the bar counter with his head in his hands and his eyes still on you, thinking.

“how about we make a bet.”

“a bet? on what?”

“if i can get into your locked apartment and into your bedroom without waking you up, i win. if i do, you win.”

“and what do i get when i win?”

sukuna chuckles at that, almost like a villain’s laugh.

“i wouldn’t worry too much about that.”

you roll your eyes at him.

“oh please, you sound way to confident in your impossible chance at winning.”

he laughs at you again.

“i am. there’s a reason i was able to break in so many people’s houses while they were still in there without getting caught. it’s kind of my specialty.”

you take another sip of your drink and lean back.

“your specialty, huh? and you still haven’t mentioned what we get if we win.”

“what do you want?”

his tone caught you off guard for a second, getting deeper and more serious without you expecting it.

“u-um, i don’t know. you can pick.”

he smiles at you again, a devious smile this time as he leans in closer to you.

“if i win, i get to do whatever i want to you. if you win, you get to do whatever you want to me.”

time stops for a minute and you don’t realize that you’re just staring at him until after several seconds.

“what do you m-mean by that?”

he leans back to hold his beer and his playful demeanor is back.

“well according to you, you won’t have to worry about that, right?”

a couple of days went by and you were still on edge. you mentally slept with your eyes open and even kept your bedroom door cracked, just in case you really couldn’t hear him come in. even though you knew it was just a bet and a silly little game, you couldn’t stop your heart from pounding against your chest. maybe because you still didn’t really know what he said meant. and there was also the eerie feeling that you were essentially waiting for him to break into your apartment, like a real robber. like the robber he used to be. and even though you knew he wasn’t dangerous to you and wouldn’t hurt you, you were still admittedly a little scared. you truly didn’t know what to expect.

it had been a couple of weeks now and you were sure sukuna was fucking with you. whenever you saw him in passing, he was his normal playful and flirty self, and mentioning nothing of the bet. you were starting to think he was kidding, just making that up to scare you and mess with you. or you also thought he could have just forgotten, since he was drinking a little and couldn’t have forgotten all about it.

but little did you know that you were playing right into his hands. he was waiting on you to lose your edge, to slowly get comfortable enough again to slip into deep and dream-filled sleeps. that’s why you didn’t expect it, why you didn’t expect to lose.

when you woke up one night, you felt your heart fall out of your body and your eyes almost jump from their sockets. there he was, in your apartment, in your bedroom, on your bed, leaning over you on his hands and knees. when he saw that you were awake and too stunned to speak, he smirked and leaned in closer to you until his face was just inches from yours.

“guess i win, sweetheart.”

#dangerous sukuna #i might make dangerous sukuna a thing #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna ryomen #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk sukuna #sukuna fic #sukuna fluff #sukuna smut #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna ryoumen #ryomen sukuna x reader #jjk fic #jjk fluff #jjk smut

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jinwoosbabyboo · 3 months ago

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Sick & Tired

How I imagine the LADS Men take care of you when you're sick [requested by: depressed but well dressed anon]

𝚉𝚊𝚢𝚗𝚎

ready and willing to take care of you, but also is in his ‘I told you so’ era because he knew you’d end up getting sick

will do everything and anything you tell him

would let you lay on his shoulder or in his lap while you nap

even though he’s with you constantly to take care of you he somehow manages to not get sick

brings you medicine and a glass of water

cooks you homemade soup and will feed you if you let him

depending on how sick you are he would take time off from work to look after you

for my girlies who cry a little when they dont feel good he would wipe your tears for you “Don’t cry this sickness is only temporary”

if hes still working he’ll always try to be there until you fall asleep and rushes home to you

leaves soup in the fridge for you when he’s not there

𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚊𝚢𝚎𝚕

teases you for getting sick until he realizes youre sad “Aw cutie are you not feeling well?” “I hate it here” “Tell me what you need”

Doesn’t want to get sick so yes he’d bring you whatever you ask for but he’s wearing a mask and gloves ; avoids kisses “once you’re no longer contagious I'll give you a kiss”

doesn’t mind telling you stories or humming you songs to get you to sleep

would feed you, but be prepared to never hear the end of it “You’re just a sick girl who needs my help in your time of need I know I know my services are impeccable” “Can I have my tea now?”

mocks and teases you when you get fussy about anything “I can’t stand you” “Good thing you’re laying down then huh?”

gets sick anyway because his dumbass would eat off your spoon/fork or drink something of yours

you two end up sick in bed together and he’s even more whiny now

lots of cuddles and kisses now since he got himself sick

doom scrolls with you while laying in your lap

Thomas has to come and take care of the two of you

𝚇𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚎𝚛

I wouldn't be me if I didn’t say it ; PAGING NURSE XAVIER

he’s at your side in a split second

so excited to have free reign in your kitchen ; immediately tries to make you soup and burns the pot

blows the kitchen up in your house/apartment ends up having to take care of you at his place

finally orders you soup and medicine after you cried because you didn’t want his cooking

he sleeps when you sleep

constantly checking your temperature

doesn’t mind carrying you around the house he knows you can walk, but he likes having you draped over him

blows your nose for you ; puts the tissue to your nose “Blow.” “Thats what she said” “…..your snot is dripping please blow”

sore throat? he’s right there daily with a spoonful of honey “Here its good for you”

can easily handle you when you get fussy about taking medicine “That was quite the tantrum” as he shoves the medicine in your mouth

𝚂𝚢𝚕𝚞𝚜

already knew you were coming down with something he already has everything ready to go

picks you up and takes you to his place ;has his chef prepare home remedies tailored just for you

brings you everything himself ; you also have the twins at your disposal

sits bedside and encourages you to eat as much as you can “take two more bites and then you can go back to sleep”

still tries to kiss you even though you’re sick because he doesn’t give a damn “Sylus I'll get you sick stop” steals a kiss here and there anyway ; gets sick like two weeks later

wipes and blows your nose for you “You look like a sick kitten” “Shut it”

doesn’t care when you get fussy about taking medicine “Are you done? Good. Here.”

if you want to stay in bed all day thats fine ; if you want to cling to him like a Koala around the house thats fine too he’ll carry you

lets you sleep on him and steal his warmth

checks your breathing when you sleep longer than usual

leaves the twins to keep an eye on you if he needs to step out ; leaves Mephisto to watch you if he needs to take the twins with him

the type to give you a massage even if you’re not having body aches

𝙲𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚋

is already at your doorstep with groceries and medicine

keeps you close to him and in sight at all times

your personal chef truly ; he’s wrapping you in a blanket and laying you on the couch while he makes you something to eat

checks your temperature regularly ; gives you medicine like clockwork

spoon feeds you so you don’t have to lift a finger

reminds you that you don’t need to thank him ; he’ll always take care of you no matter what

cuddles you while you sleep after cleaning your place ; puts a humidifier in your room if you’re congested

tries to make you laugh so you’re not sad ; reminds you that he’ll always be there for you so no need to be sad

wipes and blows your nose for you “Your scrunched up face is adorable”

teases you if you ask for a massage if you’re having body aches ; of course he’s overjoyed to do it though “You know I'll give you a massage whenever you want”

says he won’t kiss you while your sick ; ends up kissing you out of habit and gets a little sick “Now it’s your turn to take care of me”

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prettydaisygirl · 5 days ago

Note

would love to see a one bed trope with james!!

hi nonnie! Thank you so much for requesting, I hope you enjoy <3 I love one-bed tropes omggggg

friend!James Potter x fem!reader who fall victim to Sirius' trap ✿ 2.0k words

cw: fem reader, James has a crush on reader, they are both awkward, James is a professional athlete, Lily is James' ex (sorry), background wolfstar, Remus had an allergic reaction but Sirius saw an opportunity

james potter masterlist

°˖✧✿✧˖°

next part

James should’ve known Sirius had ulterior motives. He always does.

When Sirius had called him yesterday, James immediately knew something was wrong. Sirius never calls him. He should’ve been more suspicious when he answered and Sirius’ tone was bright and cheery despite the words he was saying.

“Remus had an allergy attack,” Sirius says, and James can hear the hospital machines in the room behind him. Sirius laughs when James asks if Remus will be okay. “He’s fine! You know Moony, he’s resilient!”

James doesn’t know if Remus is really that resilient, but Sirius seems to blow off his worries, quickly moving on. “Anyway, Prongs, I have a favor to ask you.”

“Yeah?” Upon later reflection, James will again realize that the tone in Sirius' voice should’ve made him suspicious.

“Rem and I rented a cabin for the weekend, but now with this, we can’t go. And they won’t let us refund it with such short notice.” Sirius’ voice muffles a bit as he seems to turn to say something to Remus, but James can’t make out the words. Sirius turns back and continues, “You should go for us, yeah? Enjoy a nice weekend away, it might be nice to relax and get away from all of your problems.”

James should’ve known better. He always knows better when it comes to Sirius.

Maybe it was his burnout, or the sounds of the hospital room in the background, but James finds himself agreeing. Which isn’t the stupid part.

The stupid part was not asking anymore questions.

James is expecting a cabin in the woods. He is expecting quiet peace away from hectic city life, and work, and everything else.

But he's not expecting you.

James opens the front door as you’re stirring a pot over the stove. You freeze, he freezes, the both of you like deer in headlights.

“Hello,” He says, smiling softly as he steps inside and shuts the cabin door behind him.

“Hi, James!” You say back brightly, setting down your stirring spoon and brushing your hair off your face with the back of your wrists. “What are you doing here?”

“I was… going to ask you that.” James says as he sets his bag down by the front door. He runs a hand through his hair as you pick up a dish towel and wipe off your hands.

“Sirius invited me,” You explain, and glance at the stove again before deciding to reach over and turn it off. James watches your every move. “He said they rented this cabin for their anniversary this weekend, but Remus had to go to the hospital. They didn’t want to waste the reservation… Why are you looking at me like that?”

James blinks a few times and tries to wipe whatever look he must have off his face. “No, I just… that’s what he told me too. He invited me too, just yesterday.”

“Oh,” You say, and then a sharp chuckle escapes your lips, “Why would he do that?”

James knows exactly why Sirius would do that.

A few weeks ago, after a few too many, James admitted to Sirius that he maybe, sort of, kind of, just a little bit, fancies you. James has had a very hard time getting over Lily after the breakup, and this admission had Sirius grinning like the Cheshire Cat. James had hoped Sirius wouldn’t remember it, and he thought that because Sirius hadn’t mentioned it again, that he didn’t.

Except, evidently, Sirius did remember.

“Well, that’s alright!” You say, the sweet, happy smile returning to your lips. Its familiar presence makes James’ insides flutter. “I can make more soup!”

“Oh, you don’t have to-” Your voice is quick to cut off James’ protests.

“Don’t worry! It will only take me a few minutes,” You wave him off with a hand, already moving to turn the stove back on and begin adding more ingredients.

James takes this moment to slip away and collect himself. He leans down to grab his bag and dashes across the living room to the door on the other side. He opens it and finds the bedroom.

He runs a hand through his hair, tossing his bag on the bed. He steps into the connected bathroom, turns on the sink, and splashes some water onto his face.

Fuck, He thinks. James was definitely not expecting you.

He steps back into the bedroom and sits on the bed, only to freeze, his entire body tensing. His eyes dart around the room in disbelief, panic flooding him.

Fuck, again. James thinks. There’s only one bed.

His immediate panic recedes when he realizes he can just sleep on the couch. He groans internally at the thought of having a sore back for a day or two, but he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable.

Only, when he walks into the living room, there isn’t a couch. Just two wicker chairs.

Fuck, three times.

He walks back into the kitchen, hearing you humming to yourself as you set two bowls of soup on the table. He pretends like his mind isn’t reeling as he takes a seat, beaming brightly at you.

“How have you been?” He asks, and he cringes as you sit down. He should’ve gotten your chair for you.

“I’ve been alright! Things have been busy, but what’s new? How have you been? Lily doesn’t talk about you anymore so…” Your voice trails off as you realize you’ve said the wrong thing. James’ stomach churns just a bit at the sound of Lily’s name from your mouth but he pushes it aside quickly. He waves off your anxiety with a wave of his hand.

“I’ve been alright,” James answers, picking up his spoon but not taking a bite yet, “I’ve been throwing myself into the team. We've been doing really well this season. Oh, and I got a new flat a few months ago, it’s nice.”

He tries to keep his voice steady and you just nod and smile. So far so good, he thinks.

“Sorry for…” Your voice is quiet as you squeeze your eyes shut with embarrassment and James is quick to soothe your anxiety again.

“No, I promise it’s alright. Don’t worry about it. How… How is she?” James asks, and he does care but more than anything he doesn’t want you to think he is hung up on Lily. Their breakup was the hardest thing he’s ever gone through, but it was never going to work out between them and he understands that now.

“She’s alright, she’s… I think she’s getting engaged soon.” You shrug a bit and James gives you a soft smile.

“Good… That’s good.” James says. He hates the way the room is thick and the silence stretches awkwardly in a way that makes his skin crawl.

You don’t let the tension stop you, speaking up again. “I’ve been watching your games. You’re right when you say the team is doing really well.”

James finds himself both surprised and flattered that you watch them. Maybe you’re just a fan of the sport, but he convinces himself you’re watching it for him. “You watch me? Really?”

He adores the way you become flustered, eyes darting away from his for a moment as you shy, “Well… I mean you’re there, so…”

James chuckles brightly and the room lightens a bit. He shakes it off his shoulders and tilts his head at you. “I wish I would’ve known you were watching. I would’ve shown off for you.”

Your eyes brighten and James’ heart skips a beat. “You weren’t already?” You ask, the corner of your mouth turning up, and James falls deeper in love with you.

The rest of dinner goes well. James finds the soup you made absolutely delicious, and your company even better. Your laugh is contagious and the both of you find yourself having a good time, especially when you find the bottle of champagne that was seemingly left for Remus and Sirius’ anniversary trip. At the end of the bottle, after moving to sit outside, the two of you are laughing so loud you might have scared off any animals nearby.

James adores the way your eyes crinkle when you laugh, the way the light from the setting sun causes your irises to glow just a bit brighter. The last of a series of chuckles leaves his lips and James finds himself telling you, “There’s only one bed.”

Your chuckles slow and your brow furrows just a bit, a smile still on your lips. “What?”

“There’s only one bed, and there’s not even a couch.” James’ voice is lighter than normal, and there’s a long moment of silence before the two of you break out into giggles again.

“Oh no,” You say teasingly, giggles slipping out every few words, “I have to sleep with James Potter? How disappointing.”

James knocks into your shoulder lightly with his own, but you don’t move, just letting his shoulder rest against yours.

“Do you want me to sleep on the floor?” He asks, a surprisingly sober question for his tipsy brain. You shake your head, turning to look at him with your pretty eyes and beautiful smile. The alcohol and the look on your face make his brain fuzzy.

“No,” You say, and James lets his knee fall into yours too. “You can sleep on the bed with me.”

He lets you get ready for bed first, laying on top of the sheets and simultaneously cursing and thanking Sirius for setting him up like this. You come out in some sleep shorts and a t-shirt and James thinks he might die. Just the sight of the skin of your thighs is enough to have him practically jumping off of the bed and heading into the bathroom.

When he comes back out, now changed into a pair of boxers and a different t-shirt, you’re already under the covers. He feels his heart pounding in his chest as he slides in next to you. His buzz from the champagne has mostly worn off now, and he can see your eyes shine just a bit in the darkness of the bedroom.

“Is this still okay?” James asks softly, the two of you facing each other. His leg bumps into yours.

“Yes,” You whisper back softly, and you seem to hesitate for just a moment before you place your hand on his. “It’s okay. I want you to sleep here.”

James feels himself practically melt and his body moves closer to your own, your words encouraging him. He squeezes your hand and he can feel the soft puffs of your breath against his face.

“‘m glad you’re here,” James admits softly and your lips curl into a soft smile.

“Me too.” You say, and he watches your eyes fall shut for a moment before they open again. The two of you lay there, eyes on each other, until you’re the one who leans forward to press a kiss to his lips.

It’s soft and sweet, nothing earth-shattering. James thinks it's perfect. He decides to be brave too, and slides an arm around you. You continue to kiss lazily for a few minutes until you yawn. James pulls back enough to pretend to look offended.

“I’m sorry, am I boring you?” He asks, voice soft and teasing as he runs a hand up your side. You shiver a bit and smile tiredly.

“Sorry,” You say, voice practically a murmur as sleep calls to you, “I’m sleepy.”

“I know,” James whispers, and he runs a hand through your hair. You smile, letting your eyes close and letting sleep start to take you. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, James.”

°˖✧✿✧˖°

#daisy's writings #james potter #friend!james potter #friends to lovers #james potter au #james potter fluff #james potter drabble #james potter fic #hp marauders #james potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x you #james potter x y/n #james potter oneshot #james potter fanfiction #James potter friends to lovers

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obae-me · 2 years ago

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How many kisses I think it would take before he turns to mush

My creativity has been stuck in essentially a rush hour traffic jam for like weeks, so let's write something silly for practice, shall we?

Lucifer

Definitely ten or more. He tries to keep his composure, to focus on the task at hand, scold you for coddling him and distracting him, but if you hold onto your stubbornness and see it through to the end, he will be putty in your hands soon after you reach double digits. He might even fall faster if you give him little bits of praise after every kiss.

Mammon

Three MAX. One to catch him off guard, one to make it really sink in, and then the third to land the final blow. No amount of tsundere will outlast the triple attack. He'll be following you around like a lost puppy for the rest of the day, almost demanding more. He's greed after all, three might've broken him, but he'll be damned if he doesn't get more.

Levi

I would be tempted to say just one is enough, but we want a soft boy, not a vibrating, anxious mess. He gets tense at first, and he needs some reassurance and some time to understand that he likes and is okay what is happening. So I'm going to say five or more kisses. The first few he's just stuttering and blushing, but soon after, he can put that aside and just allow himself to relax a bit.

Satan

He acts like it takes him just as long as Lucifer, reaching double digits, when in reality he gave in internally much much earlier than that. Four is when his heart is melting and his mind is screaming, but around eight is when his body starts to unwind, almost curling around you like a cat.

Asmo

Much higher than you would expect. One must bridge the initial flirting phase before he becomes a puddle. I'm going to say probably six kisses. The first three he'll be giddy, but if you get softer with each kiss, he'll slowly start to become speechless.

Beel

As long as there isn't food in the way, just one. One kiss is all it takes. This demon has just so much love in him, you hardly need to kiss him for him to be soft for you. He doesn't need to put up an act. Just give him a single smooch and he'll drop whatever he's doing to cuddle into you.

Belphie

So many kisses. Probably even more than Lucifer. He feels like he deserves your kisses anyway, so it's hard to get him flustered about it, especially when he's so spoiled. Besides, you have to hope your affection won't lull him to sleep. Over ten for sure. Just keep going. Eventually, he'll be overwhelmed and give up his sleepy smug nature and transform into fluff.

Diavolo

Look me in the eyes and tell me this touch starved man will not cave after like two or three. He's not used to kisses, so the first kiss has his brain lagging. Hit him with the double combo and he's gone. Wasted. Fatality. Although please just kiss him more than twice. He really likes it.

Barbatos

Too many to count, unfortunately. He likes it, don't get him wrong, he's just tough to break. But there must be a breaking point somewhere. Keep attacking him with kisses and surely he must give in eventually, although most likely by his own will, giving in just so you can catch a proper breath. A win is a win.

Simeon

Probably no more than four, although it seems like more than that because he'll often return to sender and kiss you back. Don't give in, you must stay strong before he makes you melt first. Hum as you kiss him and he'll fall faster, almost cooing.

Solomon

He's got a stronger will than most, almost as good as Barbatos, but he will melt in due time. He'll treat it like a game at first, which it almost is to you, but he doesn't have to know that. It takes a while, but when he melts, he melts fast. He'll be trying to chuckle and make light of it one moment, and then be a completely speechless mess the next.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphie #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me solomon

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domjaehyun · 5 months ago

Text

the need to know (l.dh) — part three

PAIRING. sneaky link!fwb!haechan x fem!reader GENRE. smut, fluff, mild angst, some humor CONTENTS. mentions of marijuana, explicit smut (unprotected sex, oral (receiving), overstimulation, praise kink, dom!haechan, switch!reader, breast play, nothing too crazy in this fic dw) WORD COUNT. in total, 40.4k, part three has 7.9k SUMMARY. you and haechan have undoubtedly had tension for the majority of your friendship. what happens when you act on it? PLAYLIST. the need to know (feat. sza) - wale // notice me - sza NOTES. tada!! here’s the third and final part! it’s a lot shorter than the other two because logically it made sense to split them up like this 😁 i hope you enjoy!! your positive feedback is always appreciated 💖 thank you for reading!!

READ PART ONE HERE. — READ PART TWO HERE.

Later in the week, you’re lying cozy on the couch, scrolling through Twitter, when you’re suddenly reminded that you and your friends had plans for later today. You switch over to your Messages group chat and shoot off a quick text to put out feelers to see if everyone’s still free.

you [15:02pm] hii y’all are we still on for pottery today? chuu chuu train [15:03pm] um….. no actually 😟 i got called in for a shift at the hospital last minute mark [15:07pm] this girl at my job asked me to get drinks with her… she’s really cute… jeno [15:10pm] go get her mark 😎 i have a new client today and this was the only time she had free for her consultation :/ jaemin [15:12pm] i’m technically still free but like . kinda think i’m coming down with something you [15:14pm] sigh why must you all let me down like this 😞 renjun [15:16pm] why are you all blowing up my phone 🤨 cut it out you disliked “why are you all blowing up my phone 🤨 cut it out” you [15:17pm] okay cranky pants… you signed up to be friends with us chuu chuu train [15:19pm] yeah this gc isn’t called “the platonic polycule” for nothing!!! chuu chuu train [15:19pm] now can you make it to pottery today? renjun [15:17pm] no i can’t sorry 😕 like i’m free but i have a design for a site due by the end of tonight and i haven’t finished… you [15:20pm] brb entering the deepest of depressions

You knock three times on Jihyo’s door, waiting for her to reply before flinging her door open with a wail. “Jihyo, everyone’s bailing!”

“I saw,” she says sympathetically.

“Only ones going are you, me, and Haechan.” you lament, collapsing onto her bed.

“Well, if that’s the case,” she says thoughtfully, “I’m not going, either.”

“What?!” you exclaim, looking up at her with an incredulous expression.

“You think I want to sit there and third-wheel whatever it is you two have going on?” she chuckles, stroking your hair soothingly. “Take it as an opportunity to do more of… whatever you two call your arrangement.”

“You’re… well, I can’t decide if I want to thank you or hit you with a pillow.” you sigh dejectedly, and she chuckles understandingly.

you [15:30pm] haechan please say you’re going… jihyo just bailed (verbally) and now i’m all alone 😞 haechan [15:32pm] my schedule’s all free for you 😌 you loved “my schedule’s all free for you 😌” you [15:33pm] AND THAT IS HOW TO BE A RELIABLE FRIEND, EVERYONE. TAKE NOTES!!!! you [15:34pm] anyway that concludes this conversation. everyone but haechan is in the dog house until further notice. farewell

You lock your phone and look up at Jihyo with a small smile. “You’re not in the dog house.” you inform her, and she smiles, running her fingers through your hair.

“Thank you for that. Want help picking out your outfit for your little pottery date with Haechan?” she offers, wiggling her eyebrows excitedly.

“It’s not a date,” you stress, sitting up. “It’s two friends hanging out and making pottery together.”

“Okay, do you want help picking out an outfit to look super duper cute for your date that’s totally not a date?” she amends with a sly grin, and you scowl, deciding to hit her with a pillow after all. “Hey!”

“That’s for teasing me.” you huff, setting the pillow back down. “But yes, I would like help.”

“Expecting help after you assaulted me is beyond crazy, by the way.”

“Please?” you plead, giving her your best puppy dog eyes, and she sighs in defeat, closing her laptop and flinging her covers off her legs.

“Fine. Lead the way.”

“Are you nervous?” you ask as you two walk up to the building your pottery class is in, and Haechan shakes his head with a chuckle.

“Of course not,” he replies confidently. “I’m good with my hands; you should know that.”

“I don’t think this activity requires the exact same skill set as the one you’re talking about, but okay.” you say with an amused expression, and he shrugs.

“I’m a fast learner.”

As it turns out, Haechan is not, in fact, as fast of a learner as he thought he was.

You giggle to yourself as you watch him struggle to make a decent looking pinch pot. “I thought you were good with your hands?” you tease as you smooth out the thumbprints in your own surprisingly pretty pinch pot, and he frowns in your direction.

“Apparently, my hands’ skills are best applied elsewhere.” he huffs, much to your amusement.

“Evidently,” you remark, smiling to yourself. “Do you want help?” you ask, and he shakes his head.

“No… I’m hoping I have better luck when we start using the wheel.” he answers, and you raise your eyebrows.

“Okay… well, good luck with that.” you say, returning your attention to your work as you diligently make the rim of the bowl even and level.

After some time, you’re all instructed to switch to throwing on the wheel, and you’re surprised to find that it comes naturally to you, your hands sculpting a lovely bowl with a wide mouth.

“Haechan, are you sure you don’t need help?” you offer again as you see him accidentally dig his thumb into his pot too harshly, resulting in an uneven, deep dent going around half of the bowl.

“Maybe a little assistance would be nice,” he admits in defeat, and you smile, turning off your wheel and coming to stand behind him.

“I’m gonna show you how to do it, okay?” you say softly, taking his clay covered hands in your own and guiding them to the clay on his wheel. “Wanna start over?”

“Yeah,” he sighs, pouting, and you nod, moving to sit behind him. You rest your chin on his shoulder as you guide his hands through reverting his misshapen bowl into an even mound of clay.

“Wet your hands a little bit,” you explain, gesturing to the bowl of grayish water beside his wheel. “It’ll help you manipulate the clay better.” He dips his hands in the water, shaking them off slightly before returning his hands to the clay, tentatively placing his hands on either side of the clay.

“Spread it out like this,” you say gently, showing him how to use his thumbs to carefully widen the surface area of the clay. “Keep your palms close like a guide for how wide you want it to get.”

“Mhm,” he hums distractedly, brows furrowed in concentration, and you help him shape the base of the bowl he’s making, forming a sort of stout cylinder of clay.

“Good,” you encourage him, and he cracks a shy smile at the compliment, turning his head slightly to look at you. “Pay attention to what you’re doing.”

He sighs loudly, momentarily attracting the attention of some other students, but he relents, turning his head back to focus on his bowl.

“Next, you’re gonna make a small dent with your thumb in the center of the clay, and we’re gonna slowly drag the dent outwards with our thumbs to deepen and open up the mouth of the bowl.” you say next, and he nods, tongue poking out slightly as he tries to do what you’re asking him to do. “Carefully,” you remind him, guiding his thumbs as he methodically opens up the dent he made, his bowl now looking much better than before.

“Hey, it’s working!” he says excitedly, and you smile fondly, nodding. You hesitate before your next action, but decide to follow through with it anyway, turning your face in towards him to peck him gently on the cheek. He takes his hands off the wheel abruptly, turning his face towards yours as he searches your eyes with curiosity. “You kissed me.”

“I did,” you confirm, wishing he wouldn’t make such a big deal of it.

“What was that for?” he asks curiously, and you give a small shrug.

“A reward for doing a good job? And incentive to keep doing a good job.”

“So… if I make a pretty bowl, I can get another kiss?”

“Perhaps.”

“On the lips?”

“Don’t push it.” you say, rolling your eyes with an amused smile.

“Fine,” he relents, pouting slightly. “Hey, have you seen that movie, Ghost?”

“With Jennifer Love Hewitt?” you ask, and he nods. “I haven’t, but I’m pretty sure I know where you’re going with this.”

“The pottery scene?” he questions, testing you, and you nod with a smile. “Can we?”

You pause, thinking about it, before you nod. “Sure.”

He bounces in his seat excitedly before he refocuses his attention on his bowl, practically vibrating with excitement as your hands close in over his.

Wordlessly, you help him shape his bowl, deepening the inside and lengthening the body. Your hands glide together smoothly and you’re so focused on doing a good job that it takes you ages to realize that Haechan isn’t even looking at the bowl anymore, his gaze now focused entirely on you with a mix of wonder and fascination on his face.

“Please pay attention before you distract me too and we fuck this bowl up.” you say with a small, amused smile, and he shakes his head.

“I think I need more incentive.” he states, and you look at him with a slight roll of your eyes.

“Just say you want me to kiss you again.”

“Okay, I want you to kiss me again.”

“No. Focus on the bowl.”

“What?! You just told me to say I want another kiss.” he complains, frowning.

“I didn’t say I was going to give you one. I just wanted you to be upfront about what you want.”

“I want a kiss,” he says, stubbornness creeping into his voice, and you sigh.

“If I give you a kiss, will you focus?”

“Yes, ma’am.” he agrees, nodding to seal his promise, and you purse your lips thoughtfully as you think it over.

“Okay.” you say finally, and he beams at you before removing his hands from the wheel entirely and turning in his seat to face you. You lean in, Haechan moving with you, and connect your lips in a sweet kiss.

He hums, pleased, and moves to cup your cheek before you grab his wrist and set it down on his lap.

“You have clay all over your hands, and I don’t think that’d look too good on my face.” you murmur against his lips as you two part, and he laughs, the sound surprisingly sheepish for him.

“Sorry, I forgot.” he chuckles, nodding in understanding. “Thanks for the kiss, baby.”

“You’re welcome. You think we can finish the bowl now?”

“I think your kiss gave me enough strength to push through and finish strong.” he remarks with a cheeky grin, and you snort.

“That is so dramatic. You’re lucky you’re cute.” you huff, and he beams at you.

“Sure am.”

By the time you two make it back to your front door, the sun is starting to set, streaks of orange, gold, and a beautiful shade of rose filtering in through the window in your hallway.

“I had a really fun time today,” Haechan says, looping his pinky around yours and swinging your hands back and forth.

“Me too,” you agree, smiling. “Are you gonna tell me what you painted at the bottom of your bowl now?”

“Nope,” he replies with a grin. When you pout, he coos fondly, mirroring your expression. “You’ll see when they’re finished and we go to pick them up.”

“Fine,” you huff. “Hey, do you… maybe want to come in? Jihyo and Jiwoo are still out.” you ask, nibbling your bottom lip nervously.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he admits with a sheepish grin, and a relieved smile overtakes your face as you unlock your front door and lead him inside.

“So, you’re telling me you’re not even the slightest bit curious what a parallel universe might look like for you?” you ask incredulously.

“Oh, I’m definitely curious,” he replies. “I just can’t imagine wanting to live in that reality.”

“Really? What if in your parallel universe you were a hot shot musician?”

“Still no.”

“You’re insane,” you gasp, and he chuckles softly, the look in his eyes incredibly raw and vulnerable, and you find yourself scrambling over your words in an attempt to protect the quivering heart Haechan’s presenting to you in his gaze. “Well—why this universe, hm? Why, out of all the universes you could be a part of, do you want this one?”

“I wouldn’t want to live in a parallel universe,” Haechan says slowly, “if it means I might not meet you.”

Your breath catches in your throat, the gravity of his words weighing heavy in your heart, and now you think you understand the look he was giving you earlier. “Do you mean that?” you ask softly, and he nods, leaning in to brush his lips against your cheek.

“Every word, pretty.” he confirms, and you’re grateful you’re sitting down because you would have visibly swooned otherwise.

“Jeez, Haechan, are you trying to woo me?” you joke softly, and he tilts your chin up with one finger, turning your head to face him.

“Mm, depends,” he sighs, brushing his lips against yours with a hint of a smile. “Is it working?”

“Not gonna lie? Yeah,” you murmur, smiling bashfully when he chuckles.

“Good,” he chuckles, kissing you softly. Like the others, this kiss ensnares your mind and body, but there’s a tenderness, a hesitance you don’t see from Haechan often. He molds his lips with yours slowly and sweetly, chasing after you when you pull back slightly for air before breaking the kiss and nuzzling your nose with his. “Hi,” he says softly, smiling shyly.

“Hi,” you giggle, kissing his nose lightly. He beams at you and leans in for another kiss, his hand gently resting on your knee. As you two kiss, his hand moves up gradually, pushing up the hem of your sundress until it’s bunched up your thigh just before your underwear.

His kisses grow in passion, in need, until he’s greedily kissing you as you run out of air and have to break the kiss with a gasp. “Let me kiss you,” he whines, clutching at your thigh as he leans in again.

“Let me breathe for a second,” you laugh, and he chuckles quietly.

“Sorry. You done breathing yet?” he asks, and you snort, bursting out into laughter. He joins you, tickled by your amusement, and when you manage to control yourselves, he sighs happily. “So—”

“Yes, I’m done breathing.” you say with a small roll of your eyes and a smile, and he grins, leaning in to kiss you again.

“Did I tell you how beautiful you look today?” he wonders, and you shake your head. “I’m an idiot, then,” he continues, “because you look stunning.”

“Oh, yeah?” you ask, and he nods firmly.

“This little white and pink number you have on,” he murmurs, tugging at the strap on your shoulder until it slips off, “is driving me crazy.”

“Is it, now?” you hum, goading him on, and he nods again.

“It matches your cute little bow.” he points out, and you smile, pleased.

“It does,” you confirm, and he smiles before kissing you again. “You know what else it matches?”

“Mm, what, baby?” he mumbles against your lips.

“My underwear.” you answer, and he stills, looking at you with wonder and desire in his eyes.

“You’re joking,” he breathes, and you shake your head, smiling. “Let me see?” It’s phrased like a question, but it’s anything but if the way Haechan is already lifting your dress is any indication. “Please?” he adds almost as an afterthought, and you giggle, allowing him to pull your dress up enough to see your baby pink underwear. “Fuck,” he groans, his head falling into your lap, and you laugh as he presses his face between your legs, quickly maneuvering himself so your thighs are on either side of his body. He presses a loud kiss to the front of your underwear, then another slightly lower, and when his lips graze your clit through the fabric, you jolt, and he smiles. “You liked that?”

“A little,” you fib, and he nods in smug confirmation, leaning back down to press another kiss to the fabric over the seat of your underwear where a damp spot is gradually forming.

“A little?” he echoes skeptically. “This doesn’t feel like a little.” he points out as his lips brush against your dampened underwear.

“Don’t get cocky,” you breathe, tugging on his hair as a warning.

“You make it so hard not to, baby,” he coos, trailing one finger up your slit through the underwear and around your clit in circles as you squirm slightly and keen for his touch. “Look how well you react to me, pretty girl—you expect that not to make my head a little big?”

“Whatever,” you huff, frowning petulantly. “Just stop teasing.”

“What is it you want me to do?” he asks innocently, and you roll your eyes.

“Same thing you wanna do.” you reply, and he raises an eyebrow.

“I want to taste your pretty pussy,” he says slowly, maintaining eye contact the whole while. “Is that what you want?”

“Yes,” you agree instantly, and he smiles. “What now?”

“Say it,” he urges softly, lifting himself up to bring his lips to yours. “I want you to say it.”

“Haechan, please don’t tease me,” you plead, and he shakes his head.

“Wanna know how bad you want it.” he replies, and you sigh loudly.

“I want you to… do that.” you mumble, and he shakes his head with a growing smile.

“Do what?”

“Haechan!”

“Baby, say it and I’ll make your eyes roll back, I swear,” he says seriously. “I just want you to say it.”

“I want you to… go down on me.” you murmur shyly, and he beams, returning his head to between your legs.

“Now was that so hard?” he asks, and you roll your eyes in exasperation.

“Yes, actually.”

“Aw, poor baby,” he teases, his words almost distracting you from the way his fingers tug your underwear aside. “You’ll live,” he assures you before leaning in to kiss you right on the clit. You jolt at the sudden sensation, moving away from him, but he loops his arms around your thighs and pulls you back to his face, tongue stroking against your folds before delving in between them. His nose bumps your clit with every lewd wet glide of his tongue along your core, and your breath catches every time, your body wired with desire and anticipation as he messily but expertly devours you.

“Feels good,” you whine breathlessly, and you can feel him smile against your core.

“I know, baby, you’re so wet,” he purrs, sucking on your clit with a groan and a loud, wet pop as he pulls back. “Am I that good, or do you just like me that much?”

You don’t know what comes over you, especially given that Haechan gave you an easy out, but you moan out, “I like you,” heat warming your cheeks as you realize what you just said.

“Yeah, baby? You like me?” he echoes, pressing two fingers against your entrance. “How much?”

“So much, Haechan, like you so much,” you gasp, wanting nothing more than for him to continue, and he moans in delight before doing just that, fingers pushing into you greedily before he litters kisses all over your inner thighs and drags his tongue in wet stripes up your thigh to your core.

“Like you too, baby, so fucking much,” he grunts, pumping his fingers inside of you as he flicks his tongue over your clit. “Tastes so good, baby, pussy tastes so good—”

“Haechan—”

“Let me make you cum, baby, I wanna make you cum,” he groans, curling his fingers inside of you to fuck into your g-spot. “Please cum for me, please, please, please—” His lips are wrapped around your clit, sucking and kissing and tongue flicking and swirling around the sensitive button, and his throaty pleas for your release send vibrations through your clit, your body electrified with jolts of pleasure.

“Gonna—you’re gonna make me cum, Haechan—” you whimper breathlessly, and he links the fingers of his free hand with yours as he looks up at you, watching in wonder as you start to fall apart. His tongue works against you fervently, lapping up every bit of arousal that gushes from your entrance around his fingers, and your back arches off the bed, your abdomen tensing as your peak hits. Pleasure shoots through you like a dose of adrenaline, your stomach coiling in on itself as the aftershocks of your climax start to appear.

Haechan moves with you every bit of the way, craning his neck upwards to keep licking at your core, desperate for every drop of pleasure he can get from you. Your hips drop to the bed, your body feeling spent as he languidly swirls his tongue around your clit and his fingers inside of you.

“Felt good, baby?” he asks throatily, and you nod with a blissed out smile.

“Felt amazing.” you assure him, and he beams up at you, your cum glistening on his chin.

He crawls up your body to kiss you, quickly deepening the kiss as he reaches to open his pants. You reach your hand inside his boxers when he’s finished, wrapping your hand around his base and starting to stroke him up and down. He groans and lowers his head to kiss down your neck and when he gets to your collarbone, he nips at the thin flesh there, making you hiss in pleasure.

“Need you inside,” you moan, and he nods eagerly, pushing his boxers down and out of the way as his length emerges from its confines.

Without further ado, you bring the head of his shaft to your entrance, pushing it in as far as you can manage, and he whimpers with pleasure, breathing in loudly through his nose.

“Feels good?” you coo against his lips, and he nods vigorously, his eyebrows knitting together.

“Feels so fucking good, baby, you have no idea—your pussy drives me crazy.” he grunts before thrusting in more. “Need more, baby, I need it so bad—” he rasps out, and you nod encouragingly, pulling him closer to you.

“Take it, Haechan, it’s yours,” you assure him, and his eyes roll back into his head in bliss before he’s kissing you again, lips molding with yours feverishly as he thrusts into you until he’s bottomed out fully. “So full,” you moan, and he grins distractedly, brows still furrowed as he moves in and out of you in slow, fluid strokes.

“Love filling my baby up,” he coos as his hips settle into the rhythm he’s set for himself. “Pretty baby’s pussy loves sucking my cock in, doesn’t it?”

“Mm—love it, Haechan, feels so good—”

This time around feels… different. Not bad-different at all, just… intimate. There’s the possessiveness from that night at the hotel in Fire Island, then there’s this, a heady blend of devotion and belonging to each other and you just about lose your mind as his length twitches inside of you.

“Gonna fill you up, baby, gonna make you all mine,” he pants, and you nod with a whimper, reaching for him for another kiss which he reciprocates eagerly. As you kiss him, his length throbs inside of you, pulsing with need, and you can tell he’s close. “Want to cum, baby, but I want you to cum with me.”

You reach between your bodies and start to rub at your clit rapidly, free hand clutching your clothed breast as your whines and cries escalate in volume. His lips find their way to your neck and you just about pass out from all the pleasure, a deep shudder traveling through you when his mouth seeks purchase behind your ear, tongue trailing up and down the small crevice.

Your climaxes come right around the same time; Haechan’s starts first, but yours comes in with all the force of a wildfire, burning through everything in its path. Gasps and moans and the sounds of the sheets rustling are all you can hear as you two ride out your highs, and your eyes screw shut, white stars twinkling and flooding your vision as you rock down onto him to milk your climaxes for all they’re worth.

When you’re both fully depleted of energy, he pulls out of you and lies down beside you, both of you breathing loudly. After a moment of rest, Haechan gets up and heads out of the room, returning shortly after with a damp cloth which he uses to wipe you down.

“Thanks,” you sigh sleepily, and he nods with a smile, cupping your chin and kissing you sweetly.

“It’s getting late,” he sighs. “I should probably get going.”

“Wh—well, why?” you ask with a frown, and he smiles sadly.

“I have a lot of coding to do tomorrow.” he explains, and you nod slowly, carefully thinking over your next words.

“Do you wanna just… spend the night here?” you ask tentatively, and he looks over at you, hope alight in his eyes.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I mean,” you start to say, stumbling over your words slightly. “I feel like it’s late—”

“So late.” he agrees.

“And Ubers are probably expensive back to your place right now—”

“Don’t even get me started on the surge pricing.”

“Right! So, I mean, financially, it just makes sense for you… to stay… here… with me.” you finish, and he looks you over slowly with a budding grin on his face.

“I think that’s clearly the most economically sound decision.” he agrees, and you smile, relieved.

“Great. Now come back here.” you say, patting the spot next to you, and he obliges eagerly, climbing onto the bed and snuggling up to you. “Y’know, we’ve broken, like, all the rules basically.” you mumble, and he scoffs dismissively.

“Maybe those rules are outdated and stupid.”

“I mean, we did put them in place for a reason,” you sigh, and he lifts his head up to look at you skeptically. “But, I mean, maybe they don’t really apply to our scenario anymore…”

“Exactly.” he replies with a hint of smugness in his tone. “So cuddle me and go to sleep.”

And so you do just that, wondering all the while how Haechan might define your scenario now.

When you wake up in the morning, Haechan is hugging you to his chest, your legs tangled together. You peek up at him, smiling at his puffy lips slightly parted as he breathes softly.

“Haechan?” you say softly, and his nose wrinkles slightly before it relaxes, the male not stirring. “Haechan,” you hum gently, and he scrunches his eyes closed before he barely opens them to look at you. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” he mumbles sleepily.

“Are you hungry?” you ask, and he breathes in deeply before nodding. “Want me to make, like, pancakes or something?”

“Please?” he rasps, and your core tingles with need at his low voice.

“Okay,” you whisper, moving to untangle yourself from him. He groans in protest, clutching you tighter, and you chuckle lightly. “I can’t make the pancakes from the bed,” you remind him, and he frowns before loosening his grip on you, allowing you to extract yourself from his arms.

You climb out of the bed, grabbing some clothes to wear around the house and going to the bathroom to wash up. When you’re done, you make your way to the kitchen and start setting up to make pancakes, eggs, and bacon as a treat.

You’re letting the pan warm up on the stove as you mix the batter when Haechan emerges from the hallway, sleepily shuffling towards you.

“I have so much work to do today,” he groans, sitting down at the kitchen island and putting his head down.

“Aw, poor Haechan.” you coo sympathetically, and your soft tone is enough to evoke the whininess from him that you knew was waiting to come out.

“I don’t wanna,” he complains, and you nod understandingly.

“I bet.” you sigh, pouring the first pancake into the pan. The sizzle starts slow and builds gradually as the batter cooks, and you turn to face Haechan, walking around the kitchen island and wrapping your arms around his waist from behind and resting your cheek on his back. You feel him relax in your embrace, Haechan turning around to face you so he can hold your waist and press his lips to your forehead.

“You’re the best.” he mumbles against your forehead. He pulls back slightly to look at you, something tender in his eyes that you haven’t seen before to this extent. It thrills you and yet, something in you is holding back, waiting for the bad news to hit.

Sure enough, a moment later, a dopey smile crosses his features and he parts his lips to speak, the words “I l—” barely making it out before he snaps his mouth shut with a look of alarm, provoking you to raise your eyebrows in confusion.

“You l—” you prompt him, and he shakes his head, extracting himself from you.

“I should, um, go get started on my codes for my boss.” he mutters, that same hint of panic weighing on his every action as he starts to walk towards your room, turns back to face you, then shakes his head and finally heads to your room.

“What the hell was that?” you wonder aloud, hurt and confused, but you don’t have much time to deliberate, because he’s entering the kitchen once more, now looking significantly more awake and, more importantly, ready to leave. “Oh, you’re leaving?” you reply, even more confusion swimming in your head.

“Yeah, I, um, I have to get a head start on my work if I don’t want to be up all night,” he mumbles with a chuckle, and the hollowness of it makes your heart ache.

“Haechan, did I do something?” you ask carefully, trying not to sound as wounded as you feel.

“No,” he’s quick—perhaps too quick—to say, shaking his head vehemently. “I just really have to go.” he insists, heading to your front door without a single look back.

When your door shuts, you stand there, contemplating what just happened and what could have gone so wrong that it made Haechan up and leave like that. You flip the pancake in the pan over half-heartedly, observing the golden brown cooked side before your vision clouds with unshed tears.

“Fuck,” you mutter, wiping your eyes. You hear footsteps heading towards the kitchen from what sounds like Jihyo’s room, and sure enough, she steps into the kitchen, regarding you curiously.

“Hey,” she says carefully, watching you with increasing concern as you try and fail not to cry. “You okay?”

“Want pancakes?” you ask, your voice cracking on the last syllable, and she rushes over to you, pulling you into a tight, warm hug as you break down quietly in her arms.

“Hey, hey, hey,” she soothes you, rubbing your back in comforting motions. “What happened?”

You sniffle pathetically as you start to tearfully explain everything that went down, from last night to this very strange morning, and Jihyo listens intently, her brows furrowing in sympathy as your bottom lip trembles when you get to recounting the activities of this morning.

“Wow,” she finally says. “Okay, get dressed. No more sad pancakes. We’re gonna get brunch, my treat, and we’re gonna talk this out until you feel better.” she urges, patting your butt lightly to push you forward.

“Okay,” you say sadly, heading to your room to get dressed.

“So,” Jihyo says as she stirs her coffee. “How long has this been going on?”

You take a break from listlessly poking at your crepes and think back. “About two weeks,” you answer, and she raises her eyebrows.

“It took two weeks for this whole thing to get this off-track?” she asks, surprised, and you nod. “You definitely have feelings for each other.”

“I mean, I have feelings for him,” you explain. “I don’t know if it’s reciprocated.”

She shoots you a blank look over her coffee mug as she takes a tentative sip. “My love?”

“Hm?”

“You know I love you, right?”

You sigh. “What is it?”

“You sound like an idiot.”

“Hey!”

“You do! You two made rules, he broke virtually every last one of them, and you think he doesn’t have feelings for you?” she exclaims in disbelief.

“Well, he said he wanted it to be casual.” you defend yourself petulantly, and she rolls her eyes.

“Is it casual now?”

“Well, no…”

“And whose fault is that?”

“...Mine?” you ask, and she tsks in disapproval.

“No. Well, slightly, because you allowed it, but Haechan is the one who made things complicated! Sure, he said he wanted it to be casual, but he’s being anything but. He’s walking around acting like your straight-up boyfriend, and you can’t tell if he likes you or not?” she says incredulously, and you pause, thinking over her words.

“Well, then, why would he say he wanted to keep things casual?” you huff, frowning.

“One of two reasons: he might have thought you weren’t interested in dating him and just wanted to be with you in any way he can get.” she explains, and you nod thoughtfully.

“And the other reason?”

“Well, sometimes guys say they don’t want anything serious so they can use it as an excuse to fool around with other girls.” she says honestly, and you blink several times before speaking next.

“You think he’s fooling around with other girls?” you ask worriedly, and she stares at you blankly.

“That should not have been the only takeaway you got from what I just said.”

“Oh, sorry.” you mumble, sipping at your iced coffee.

“Look, can I be honest with you?” Jihyo asks, continuing on before you can answer to say, “Great; I feel like you already liked him before this happened, he definitely liked you too, and now you’re conflicted because of feelings that were present before this was set in motion.”

You think over her words once more before saying, “So, you don’t think he’s fucking around with other girls?”

Sighing loudly, Jihyo pinches the bridge of her nose. “You are about as stubborn as a mule, you know that?”

“Yes,” you reply with a doleful look. “It’s one of my specialties.”

“Does Jiwoo know about all of this?” she asks, and you shake your head.

“I haven’t told her anything, so I don’t think so.” you sigh, and she screws her face up in thought.

“Maybe we should consult her and see what she thinks.” she suggests helpfully, and you shrug. “Now, I’m not sure if you know this, but the crepes are supposed to make you feel better… but you have to actually eat them to feel the benefits.”

You smile sheepishly and separate a forkful, placing the now-room temperature food in your mouth and chewing. A small smile starts to grow on your face, and she smiles, pleased.

“Now, I want you to think about this carefully; like, do you really want to do this?” Jihyo asks, and you shrug.

“I want things to stay the way they were before this morning.” you lament.

Jihyo raises an eyebrow. “You don’t want to be his girlfriend?”

“Oh! Oh, I do. I very much do, yes.” you say, nodding emphatically, and she smiles fondly.

“Then I think we should see what Jiwoo says. She’ll probably agree with me because, well… I’m right.”

“Says you,” you mumble under your breath, and she raises a challenging eyebrow.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

“Thought so.”

“I think you always liked him,” Jiwoo says. “Like, I could tell from a mile away; anyone could tell. It’s in the way you guys look at each other.”

“Wait, you guys really think he likes me back?” you ask, hopeful and bewildered.

“Yes, dummy, he likes you back.” Jiwoo says with a roll of her eyes.

“Well… that’s not enough!” you exclaim, and Jihyo and Jiwoo groan, exasperated. “I need him to say it!”

As if the heavens were listening, your phone lights up with an incoming call notification from none other than Haechan. “Oh, shit,” you mumble, staring at it blankly.

“Um, pick up?” Jihyo stresses, whacking your arm. “Girl, pick up!”

You snatch the phone up from the bed and answer it, calling, “Hello?” into the phone and waiting with bated breath.

“Speaker!” Jiwoo mouths, and Jihyo nods vigorously in agreement.

You put it on speaker in time for Haechan’s voice to filter through the phone. “Hey, are you home?”

“Yes, I am,” you answer casually, as if your last interaction didn’t literally reduce you to tears.

“Are Jihyo or Jiwoo home?” he asks, and all of you make the same confused expression at each other, looking at the phone in bewilderment.

“Say no!” Jihyo whispers, and you wave her off.

“They’re home,” you answer, and she throws her hands up in the air in exasperation. “Why?”

“Can you come outside for a second? I need to ask you something.”

“Y’know, Haechan, phone calls were invented so people could ask other people things.”

“I know, but I want to see you,” he stresses hopefully, and you look between Jihyo and Jiwoo, both of whom are nodding vigorously. “Please?”

“Okay,” you agree, and Jiwoo collapses on her back, Jihyo heaving a relieved sigh. “I’ll be down in a minute.”

“Great,” he says, abruptly ending the call.

“What if he wants to cut things off?” you worry aloud, and Jihyo grabs your shoulders, shaking them firmly.

“He’s not gonna cut things off. You’ll never know what he wants to do if you don’t go down there and talk to him.” she says sternly, and you blink at her petulantly.

“Fine,” you lament, getting up from the bed and trudging to the front door.

When you get downstairs, you can see Haechan waiting through the glass doors of your lobby entrance, and he perks up visibly when he sees you, a good indicator.

You step outside and look at Haechan, whose smile widens when you’re standing in front of him.

“Hi,” you say carefully, and his smile turns sheepish.

“Hi,” he says, and it dawns on you that he’s holding his hands behind his back.

“What are you hiding?” you ask curiously, and he smiles wider, presenting you with something wrapped in grayish brown craft paper. You take it and hold onto it, but Haechan frowns, making you let out a noise of confusion.

“Open it!” he urges, and you can’t help but smile at his eagerness, obliging and opening the wrapping. There, in your hands, is the bowl you helped Haechan make; it’s been lightly glazed with your favorite shade of pink, and it looks prettier than it did when you two made it, somehow.

“Oh! Thank you,” you say with a smile, and he gestures for you to continue, making you let out yet another confused sound.

“Look at the bottom of the bowl.” he says excitedly, and you do just that, peering inside to see—

“Oh,” you gasp softly.

There, in Haechan’s handwriting, are the words “Be Mine?”

“That’s why I wouldn’t let you see when I was done painting.” he says, bashful now, and you smile widely, looking up at him with bright eyes. “Sorry I’ve been so weird and quiet today; I already liked you, but it hit me last night that I really like you, and this morning I realized that I might even love you.”

“Oh?” you say, smiling so widely it hurts.

“Yeah,” he confirms, nodding proudly. “I went to the pottery place and paid the instructor to bake mine early so I could bring it to you.”

“Oh, Haechan,” you say softly, your heart swelling in your chest until you fear it might burst.

“I know I said I wasn’t ready for a relationship, but I’m willing to try it if it means I get to be with you—properly this time.” he finishes, and you look up from the bowl to see a hopeful look on his face.

“Oh, thank God,” you sigh, relieved, and Haechan visibly relaxes, a wide smile on his face. “I’ve liked you for ages, actually—like, long before we started this whole arrangement.”

“Me too,” he echoes shyly, and you step closer, throwing your arms around his neck for a tight hug. He wraps his arms around your waist and stays there, holding you tightly. You turn your face inwards to kiss him on the cheek, only for Haechan to look at you like you just slapped him in the face.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, confused, and he huffs petulantly.

“I just professed my undying love for you and all I get is a kiss on the cheek?” he squawks, affronted, and you snicker.

“‘Undying love’ is a little crazy, Haechan,” you point out, and he glowers at you.

“Yeah, well, maybe I’m a little crazy.” he counters, and you feign surprise.

“Wow… no way… I had no idea… I am just so shocked.” you drawl, and he narrows his eyes.

“Ha, ha, ha. Stop mocking me and put that mouth to better use,” he huffs, pulling you into him for a kiss. It’s deep and slow, Haechan kissing you like he has all the time in the world.

You hear familiar voices cheering, and you look around before looking up to see Jihyo and Jiwoo sticking their heads out of your window, watching you two with smiles on their faces.

“Didn’t know your roommates and our friends were Peeping Toms,” he jokes, and you giggle.

“Less talking, more kissing!” Jiwoo calls out.

“Mind your business, perverts!” you splutter indignantly.

“No, no, no, why don’t we do what the perverts say?” Haechan suggests with a grin, and kisses you before you can respond, breathing in deeply as he wraps his arms around you tighter.

As you stand on the street, kissing Haechan in front of your best friends, all you can do is smile.

“I don’t think I can eat anymore,” Jaemin groans, rubbing his stomach as you all trudge down the boardwalk. “When they call it a food truck crawl, they’re not kidding; I feel like I should be on my hands and knees right now.”

“You’re weak,” Renjun comments casually. “I’m fine.”

“No, but I really can’t.” Jaemin protests, and Jihyo chuckles. “What’s so funny?”

“You said that three trucks ago.” she points out, and Jaemin frowns.

“Yeah, but I feel like I’m about to burst—” Jaemin bemoans before stopping short. When you all follow his gaze to a fried dough truck, you burst out laughing.

“What was that about you being about to burst?” you tease, and Jaemin makes a conflicted face, rubbing his stomach.

“Well… maybe I can make room for something sweet…” he mumbles, and you nod in understanding.

“You definitely can,” you encourage him, and he smiles before leading the way to the food truck.

“You’re a bad influence,” Mark laughs, and you shrug.

“He wanted it! I just let him know he could probably fit it in his stomach.”

“Yeah, leave my girl alone.” Haechan gripes, looping his arm around your waist and tugging you into his side.

“Yeah, leave his girl alone.” you huff, scrunching your nose at Mark, who rolls his eyes.

“You’re definitely more insufferable together,” he comments, and you smile, shrugging.

“Too bad.”

“Yeah, deal with it.” Haechan chuckles, kissing you on the cheek.

“Petition to make them break up?” Renjun proposes, and Jihyo reaches over to swat his arm. “Hey!”

“Hey, yourself,” she counters. “I think they’re cute.”

“Why, thank you, Jihyo, my dear friend.” you sigh happily, resting your head on Haechan’s shoulder.

You’re finally at the food truck, and after the attendant takes your order, Haechan steps forward, tapping his phone to the card reader when it prompts him to pay.

“Haechan, baby, you’ve paid for all my food; the pretzel bits, the funnel cake, the loaded hot dogs, the ice cream—”

“I know—”

“The mozzarella sticks—”

“I want to!”

“The tater tots—”

“Baby.”

“And now the fried dough!” you finish off as if he’d never spoken, and he smiles fondly, cupping your face in his hands.

“You’re my girl, right?”

“Of course,” you reply, the words slightly distorted due to his hold on your face.

“That’s right. You’re my girl, so I got you.” he answers simply, and you feel heat rushing to your face.

“Fuck, why was that attractive?” you mumble to yourself, and he chuckles, leaning in to press a sweet kiss to your lips.

“I’m glad you like it, because I’m not stopping any time soon.” he informs you. “Got it?”

“Got it.” you reply, and he nods in satisfaction.

“Good.” he says, releasing your face and taking your hand. His thumb strokes over the back of your hand, and you smile fondly, happier than ever.

“Hey, Haechan, if I bat my eyes all cute like her, can I get free food, too?” Renjun asks, and Haechan snorts.

“Good luck looking as good as she does when she does it.”

“Did you just call me ugly?!” Renjun splutters, and Haechan raises his hands defensively, your linked hand coming up with his involuntarily.

“No one said that. I just said you’re not gonna look as good to me as she does when she does it.” he replies calmly, and Renjun narrows his eyes at him.

“Tread carefully, Lee Haechan.” Renjun warns him.

Haechan rolls his eyes. “I’m so scared.”

“I’ll deglove you!” Renjun threatens, and you raise an eyebrow.

“I’ll castrate you if you even think about it for too long.” you tell him.

Renjun frowns. “I hate when they’re on the same side, and now they’re gonna be on the same side forever!”

He stomps off to another food truck in the distance, and your friends, after receiving their orders, follow after him. You and Haechan fall to the back of the group, and Haechan hums thoughtfully, prompting you to turn your head to look at him.

“What is it?”

“I like the sound of that.” he muses, and you make a face.

“Surely we’re not talking about the castrating and degloving.”

“We most certainly are not.” Haechan assures you, and you relax. “The ‘forever’ part.” You promptly inhale so sharply that you choke on the bite of fried dough in your mouth, and Haechan rubs your back soothingly as you cough and hack and gasp for air. “You alright, baby?”

“I’m good,” you pant, wiping a stray tear from your eye. “Before I almost died just now, I was going to say that… I like the sound of ‘forever’ too.”

“With me?” he asks hopefully, and you roll your eyes.

“No, with Jeno.”

He narrows his eyes at you. “Not funny.”

“Wasn’t laughing. Yes, with you, dummy.”

“I may be a dummy, but I’m your dummy. And you’re stuck with me. Forever.” he draws out the last word with a bright grin.

And as you lean in to kiss him, you murmur, “I definitely can live with that.”

and that’s the end! i hope you enjoyed!! stay tuned for a bonus scene of this fic, exclusive to patreon!!

#haechan smut #nct smut #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #donghyuck smut #donghyeok smut #lee donghyeok smut #lee haechan smut #lee donghyuck smut #haechan x reader #donghyuck x reader #donghyeok x reader

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leo-in-the-pitt · 21 days ago

Text

Look Out For Her

This is Chapter 1 of the Beginning to End series !

Summary: 4 years later and your almost done with residency. But it feels like your relationship with Jack may be coming to an end too. That is until you’re hurt and he has to come to your rescue, that he reveals his true feelings for you.

Warnings: Established relationship, implied age gap, strong language, sexual assault, mentions of alcohol, possessiveness, mostly fluff

This is a Chapter 1! 2 more already posted !! 3rd in the works !

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You were 9 months into your 4th and final year of ER residency. 3 more months to go. Somehow still learning the ropes of being cheif resident. It wasn’t easy to have the respect of your fellow co-residents and interns when you were in a relationship with Dr. Jack Abbott, an ER attending but, he made it worth it. Most of the time at least.

Getting to this point in your relationship wasn’t always easy in anyway. What started as hook ups, turned into arguements during every shift you worked together until you cut it off. But when 3rd year came around, you guys got close again, he let you in and you let him in.

One year and eight months. In your mind, this was the start of forever. At least that’s what you thought.

For the past month though, Abbotts been distant and you didn’t understand why. Picking up shifts on the days you were both off, date nights were becoming a rarity, bailing on nights out with your friends.

You moved in with him 6 months into the relationship. Everyone told you it was quick but, it felt like the right decision at the time.

You woke up early while he was still at work to go pick up breakfast from his favorite spot downtown. Got home made your famous homemade peanut butter cookies that he loved. Had his favorite movies lined up, ready to play. Even put on lingerie under your clothes, ready for whatever he wanted.

You heard keys in the door and were excited for him to see what was waiting for him.

There he was. Silver curls. Black scrubs. Go-bag over one shoulder. You could look at him forever.

“There’s my favorite guy.” You ran up to him to give him a hg and kiss.

He hugged you back but, swerved his head ever so slightly when you went in to kiss him.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“Just had a long night. Not really in the mood for anything.”

“I planned out quite the morning for us.” You smiled at him.

“Think I’m just gonna go hop in the shower then head to bed for a little bit.” He started to walk away.

You quickly turned around to him. “Okay, no, what is your problem? Did I do something? Cause for the past month you’ve been acting cold. Blowing me off ever chance you get.”

He stopped in his tracks and slowly turned to face you. He looked pissed. You’d only ever seen him angry like that once during a stupid fight you guys had at the beginning of the relationship.

“You left your laptop open.”

“Okay and? I’m I supposed to know what that means?”

“Were you going to tell me that you have a bunch of interviews for attending jobs at other hospitals? Or were you just going to tell me you were leaving one day?”

“Jack everyone goes to multiple interviews. You literally did the same when you were in my position.”

“One of those is across the country.”, he paused, “Were you gonna pack up and fly over there without telling me?”

“Thought maybe you could come with me and we could make a trip out of it actually.”

He put his head in his hands. “Do you want to leave?” His voice cracked.

“What? Why would I want to leave you Jack? I literally have an interview with Robby in 2 weeks for a spot here. I’m just trying to see what else is out there too.”

“But you have everything you could need right here! Why do you wanna give it all up!He raised his voice at you.”

You took a step back.

“Don’t yell at me.” You felt your breathing become faster, chest heavy.

“Why would you not tell me? This is something we should be talking about together. This isn’t just about you.”

“And it’s not just about you. It’s my future Jack. My career we’re talking about.” You said sternly.

“So where do I fit into that future then?”

You didn’t know how to answer. “You know I love you.”

“I sense a but coming here.”

You took a deep breath. “But there’s an emergency medicine research fellowship in California. They’re really interested in me Jack. Like really interested.”

“Sounds like you made up your mind already.” He walked away and went into the bedroom.

“Jack please. I didn’t say yes to anything yet. I still have to go over there and meet with them. I might end up hating it.”

He was throwing clothes into his go-bag. You grabbed his arm and he swiftly pulled away.

“So that’s it? You’re just going to leave? Where are you even going?”

He held both hands up in the air. “I just need some air.”

“When are you coming back?”

“I don’t know. I- I just can’t do this with you right now.”

“So if not now, then when. Jack. Come on we talked about this. Never leave mad at each other.”

“I’m not mad.”, he looked down at you, “Just disappointed.”

He grabbed his bag and walked out of the room. You felt the tears start to run down your face.

“Jack please.” You begged.

You heard him pick his keys up off the table and door slam closed behind him.

You broke. Tears streaming down your face. You sat on the edge of the bed, head in hands. Your reached into your pocket for your phone and tried to call him.

Once. Twice. Three times with no answer. Straight to voicemail.

You laid in bed, crying. Eyes already swelling. After went felt like an eternity, you fell asleep.

You woke to the sound of a text message.

Please be Jack.

It wasn’t. Just Langdon.

He knew you were planning Jacks favorites for the morning and wanted to know how it went. You typed out as much of what just happened as you could. He called immediately.

He could hear you crying again.

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay, you’re okay.”

“Frank, I- I don’t know what to do. I don’t know where he went. He turned his location off. He won’t answer my calls or texts. I just wanna know that he’s okay.” You voice broke as you tried to get the words out.

“Hey look I’m just gonna come over okay?” Gimme like 20 minutes, I’ll be right there. Please just hold on.”

“Okay.” He hung up.

You got out of bed and threw on one of Jacks sweaters. Beers of the Burgh. Him and Robby went together every year. You hated beer so you never went, just let them have their special guy time.

You went into the bathroom and saw how bloodshot your eyes had become. Splashed some water on your face and went into the living room.

Almost exactly 20 minutes later. A knock on your front door. Langdon.

You opened the door.

“Hey kid.” He always called you could since the first day you met even though he was only 4 years older.

Tears again. You almost fell to the floor. He caught you and lifted you up.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, I got you.”

He walked you into the kitchen, had you sit at one of the bar stools and went to get you a glass of water. He knew his way around. Afterall he did help you move in and came over often for movie nights when Jack was at work.

You spent the next hour trying to explain what happened. Talking. Crying. He listened to it all.

“Have you tried to call him again?”

You sniffled. “No, if he doesn’t want to talk to me, I can’t make him.”

“He has to come back eventually you know?”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” You wiped your eyes onto your sleeve.

“Hey, me and some of the others from work were gonna go out later for some drinks downtown. Probably do some bar hopping. Maybe you should come? Get your mind off of things for a little bit?”

“What if he comes back and I’m not here?”

“Maybe that’d be for the best. Think you both need some time to cool off.”

You agreed. “Yeah sure why the hell not. He never wants to come out with me anyway.”

“Alright, go get ready then.”

“It’s early.”

“Its 5:30 and you definitely take forever to get ready. Plus you gotta unpuff your eyes.”

You quickly turned to the clock on the kitchen wall. Shit, how long were you asleep for? How long was he gone for?

“Okay alright then. Are you gonna stay here?”

“Yeah I’ll just watch some tv or something while you get ready. I’ll drive us.”

You went into the bedroom, scavenging the closet for something to wear. Red dress. Jack picked it out one day when you two were at the mall a couple months ago. You hadn’t worn it yet. You were waiting until he finally decided to go out-out with you. Which obviously never came.

You grabbed the dress, his favorite matching bra and pantie set and went to shower. There was a part of you that wanted him to come home to see you. But at the same time you just wanted to forget about all that happened just a few hours earlier.

Out the shower. Quickly dried your hair. Threw some light curls in it. Jacks favorite hairstyle on you. You didn’t like makeup but, put some mascara and lipgloss on anyway.

You walked into the bedroom to grab your little black heels. And walked back out into the kitchen.

Langdon was laying on your couch on his phone.

“Ugh, told you you were gonna take forever. It’s time to go, everyone’s of there way to the first place.” He sat up and turned around. “Damn kid, you clean up nice.”

“Well thanks Frank.” You gave him a side eye.

“You hoping to run into him tonight or something?”

“I- don’t know, it’s just that he picked this outfit out so, I don’t know maybe I guess.”

It’s almost as if Jack knew you were talking about him. Keys jingled in the door. It’s him.

He opened the door to see you standing there in the dress he picked out.

You both stared at each other while Langdon looked back and forth, unsure if he should leave you two alone.

“You look good. Really good.” He scanned you top to bottom.

Your heart was about to jump out of your chest. “Thanks.”

You turned towards Langdon, “We gotta go.”

“Yeah sure.” He jumped up and walked towards the door. He stopped in front of Jack.

“Gimme a second with her.”

Langdon shook his head and walked passed Jack and out into the hallway.

“Can we talk?”

“Now’s clearly not the time.” You walked into the bedroom, grabbed his sweater off the bed and walked out. “I have places to be.”

“Where exactly are you going anyway?”

“Why does it matter to you? I didn’t know where you were all damn day.”

“I was at the park. The park I asked you to be my girlfriend in.”

“You just sat there in your scrubs all day?”

He looked down at his clothes. “I’m actually going back in tonight for a shift.”

You scoffed. “Typical. Anything to avoid me huh?”

“I’m here now, aren’t I? I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m clearly not Jack. Please just let me through.”

“Just be safe. Okay?” He stepped out of the doorway and out of your way.

“Always.” And you left.

Langdon was waiting in the hall for you. You walked right passed him.

“Hey.” He stopped Langdon. “Thank you for taking care of her.”

“I shouldn’t have to.” And with that you were both on your way.

At the first bar you met up with other coworkers. Nurses, coresidents, EMTs. And apparently more people were on the way.

“Didn’t realize how many people were coming tonight?” You yelled over the music.

“Yeah me either.” Shrugged Langdon.

After the first 2 drinks and tequila shot, you realized you had ate all day. And you can’t handle your liquor.

You sat alone at the bar sipping water, looking down at your phone lock screen. A picture of you and Jack at a concert together, happy. He wasn’t into live music but, if it were for you, he’d listen to anything.

“Boyfriend couldn’t make it?”said the bartender nodding down at your phone.

“Yeah something like that.”

“That’s his problem. You look good.”

You smiled. Langdon came up behind you.

“Hey we’re heading across the street. Heard it’s 90s music night over there.”

You got up and went with the group. Thought you’d feel better by now. That you’d be able to distract yourself by talking to everyone, drinking, and listening to the music while dancing. It wasn’t working well.

Here you had 2 more drinks. 2 more shots.

Onto the next bar.

By this time, well over a a dozen people were apart of the group.

Fourth bar. More drinks. More shots. And you could feel it. But the more you drank the more you thought about him.

You went to sit at the bar alone. You checked you phone to see that he turned his location back on. The hospital, of course.

One the nurses came up to you. “Come on girl! Let’s go dance!”

“Yeah I’ll be right there.”

No texts or calls from him.

You took a deep breath and another sip of water. As you got up, you saw a guy watching you from the corner of the room. He winked and nodded his head at you. You politely smiled and went to your friends.

No matter what, Jack wouldn’t leave your mind.

There he was. The guy watching you across the room.

“Hey baby, looking good tonight.”

“Haha, thanks.” You were uncomfortable with how close he was to your face but didn’t want any problems.

“You got a man?”

“Yeah I do a actually.”

He scanned the room. “Guess he’s not here tonight huh?”

“He couldn’t make it. Working.”

“Well that’s his loss.”

Langdon spotted you across the dance floor.

“Hey, you gotta go see Donnie playing darts. It’s crazy!”

“Yeah sure.” You turned to the stranger and half waved goodbye.

“See you later.” He winked at you.

“Who the hell was that?”

“No idea.”

“Come on, stay close.”

“What about the darts?”

“They don’t even have darts here.”

It was now 1AM. You head pounding. Each room spinning. One last bar. One more drink. You lost count.

“Come on, one more tequila shot girl!”

“Yeah sure whatever.” You took it hoping the alcohol would down the feelings out of you.

Everyone was dancing, having a good time. You just wanted to be in Jacks arms, in your bed, in the apartment you had shared for over a year.

You looked over at a couple of your friends. “I’ll be right back.” Those who heard you nodded their heads.

You went outside. Alone. Still carrying Jack’s sweater, you decided to put it on. Not zipping it up but, just wrapping it around your body. You stood up against the wall on the side of the bar. Out of view.

Took out your phone. Stared. And finally dialed Jack’s number. No answer. Try one more time. Nothing.

But the thrid time you left a voicemail.

“Jack, it’s me. Um you probably knew that already, you know caller ID and everything. B-but,” your words one slipping into another, “I think I just want to say I’m sorry. I should’ve talked to you about leaving. I’m stupid I know. But I love you. I always have. I- always will. I don’t want to leave you. Ever. You’re it for me Jack Abbott. I don’t want anyone else, or anything else. You’re the person I’ve been looking for my whole life. You make me a better person. I want you forever. Please just pick up the god damn phone. I need to hear your voice,”

You heard the bar door open behind you. The music rushed out into the street before becoming quiet again.

The stranger. Back again.

“Hey you get lost out here?”

“Jack I gotta go, I’ll see you soon.” You hung up.

“Not lost, just needed some air.”

“Yeah, yeah. It can get so hot in there.” He stepped closer to your body. “You know when I said you looked good tonight, baby I meant it.” He licked his lips.

“Thanks again.” You tried to step around him to go back inside.

He blocked you.

“Where you rushing off to? Not like your man is here to take care of you.”

“I gotta get back to my friends.”

“It’s okay I can take care of you out here.” He wrapped his arm around your waist pulling you closer to him.

Your body now pressed against his. Heart pounding in your ears. He grabbed your waist with his other had before reaching down to cup your ass.

You tried to pull away. But his grip was tight. He pushed you against the cold brick wall, pinning you body with his. One hand on your waist. The other holding your arm against the wall. Scraping the skin on the back of your arm right off.

He leaned down into your ear. “Come on sweetheart. I can treat you better then he can.” His hand sliding to meet the bottom of that red dress. “I’ll show you want a real man looks like.” You felt his cold hand on your thigh.

This can’t be happening. Not like this. Not right in front of the bar. Where is everybody? Langdon? Oh god, where’s Jack?

All the thoughts ran through your head.

He leaned in and his lips touched yours. Youpulled your head all the way to the side.

“Damn sweetheart, wanna play hard to get I see. I can play along with that.”

He let go of your arm. He started to reach for your neck.

You pushed him. Hard. He stumbled back.

“You dumb bitch. You’re gonna have to pay for that.” He took a step towards you.

Pain. Throbbing pain was the next thing you remembered. Then blood. Yours? Or his?

Both.

You punched him. Right in the face.

You used to kickbox not long ago. Guess you still remember how to swing.

“Fucking bitch.”

You screamed. Loud. Loud enough for the security guards to hear you inside the bar. They came running around the corner.

Blood was pouring out of his crooked nose. Blood dripping down your arm from your knuckles.

One security guard grabbed him. “Guess you met you match huh? Come on, got some cops that are gonna love your ass.” He took him away.

“You alright? Come on let’s get you inside and get that cleaned up.” He walked you inside.

———————————————————————

Jack got your voicemail. Almost right after you hung up. He tried to call you back. No answer.

So he called Langdon, who was still inside the bar.

“Hey man, what’s up?” Langdon was drunk.

“Dude I can smell the alcohol on your breath from here.”

“Yeah well you should be here! It’s a great time!”

“Where is she?”

“You gotta be more specific broo”

“My girlfriend. You know the one you’re supposed to be looking out for. She called me. Left a voicemail actually. Sounded like she was talking to someone. Then hung up. Where is she?”

Langdon scanned the room. “Uh I don’t know man.”

“Can you go find her please? She sounded drunk , almost as drunk as you. I’m worried. She doesn’t handle her liquor well.”

“Yeah man, I gotchu, I’ll go find her.”

“Alright call me when you find her. I wanna talk to her.”

“Aye aye captain.”

And Langdon hung up.

He walked around the room. Asking anyone and everyone if they had seen you. No one knew where you went.

That was until you walked back in with security.

———————————————————————

Everyone immediately saw you.

Red dress with blood down the side. Blood running down your forearm. Knuckles bruised and swollen already.

You heard a murmur of “what the fucks” and “oh shits”

Langdon came running over almost immediately sobering him up seeing you like that.

“What the fuck happened?!” He reached to grab your blooded fist.

You winced in pain. Mascara running down you face. “The guy from the other bar.” Yo could barely get the words out.

He looked over your shoulder and saw the guy standing outside with security and blood running down his face.

“Oh I’m gonna go kick his ass!” He tried to get passed you.

“No, no, Langdon, stop, the police are already coming.”

“I don’t give a fuck, I’m gonna break his nose some more.”

“Please, just go get me some ice.”

“What’d he do to you?”

“Ice, Frank, please.”

He went up to the bar for your ice. You could see the police lights shining through the window.

3 police cars. 6 police officers.

You told everyone to stay inside while you went to talk to them. Langdon begged to go with you so you gave in and let him.

At this point, the guy was already sitting in the back of one of their cars. Hands cuffed behind his back.

You told them exactly what happened as you held the ice pack against your knuckles.

Langdons eyes teared up hearing what happened. He was supposed to protect you.

“You wanna press charges?” said one of the officers.

“Of fucking course she does.” Said Langdon.

“I need to hear it from her.”

You shook your head yes.

“You can either come to the station now. Or you can come in the morning.”

“What she needs is to go to the hospital. The hand is broken. Definitely in multiple places.”

“No, it’s not, I’m fine.”

“I’m literally a doctor, how are you gonna tell me it’s not broken? Have you not looked at your own hand?”

You took the ice off. Your hand was basically twice its original size. Fuck. He was right.

“Well that guy wants to go to the hospital too. Can’t take y’all to the same place so where you wanna go so we can send him somewhere else?”

“Can you take me to Pittsburgh Trauma?”

“Yeah let’s go.” You gestured to the police cruiser and opened up the door for you.

“Can I come with?” Langdon asked him.

“Absolutely not. Get a ride or call an Uber. You’re drunk. Drive yourself and I’ll have you arrested.”

“I’ll be right there, okay? I promise you.”

He went back inside the bar.

———————————————————————

All you could think about on the ride there was Jack. How he had to see you like this.

You finally checked your cellphone.

5 unread texts messages. 7 missed phone calls. And one voicemail. All from him.

You presssed play.

“Hey, it’s me. I know you probably don’t wanna hear from me right now and even if you do it’s just the alcohol talking. But look, I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have reacted the way that I did. I guess I’m just scared. I don’t want you to go. I can’t afford to lose you. Of course I want you to pursue whatever career opportunities you want, but I don’t think I can live without you. You make me want to be a better man. You make everyone around here better. I love you. I want to spend my life with you. I want to marry you. Have a family with you. All here, all in Pittsburgh. I want whatever you’ll give me. I- I just need you to stay. Please. Look I gotta get back to work but call me back when you get this okay? Love you babygirl. See you soon.”

You didn’t know if your tears where from the throbbing pain shooting down your arm or from his words.

You got to the ambulance bay. You swung your legs out of the car. Feet killing you from the heels. The officer helped you out of the car and walked you inside barefoot.

One of your coresidents spotted you.

“What the fuck? Do I even want to know what happened here?”

“Get Jack, please.” You said practically begging.

You waited for what felt like an eternity from him to find Jack in a patients room.

“This better be important. I was in the middle of something.” Jack snapped his off gloves into the trash.

He looked up and his eyes caught yours.

“What the fu-“ he ran over to you.

He grabbed your arm as you winced and pulled back in pain.

“Babygirl what happened to you?” He leaned down to look into your eyes.

You broke. Immediately tears poured down your face.

“Come here, come here. I got you, you’re alright. No ones gonna hurt you. You’re safe with me here.”

He held you in his arms while caressing your hair. The smell of alcohol of your breath obvious. “Come on, let’s go.” He wrapped his arm around you and walked you into a room and sat you down on the bed.

Your coresident ran to get all the supplies needed to clean and bandage you up.

“Get the hell out. I got this. Close the door of your way out.”

It was now just the two of you. Alone.

“Babygirl I’m so sorry. I should’ve been there with you. I shouldn’t have let you go.”

He started to clean the now dry blood off of you.

“It’s not your fault.”

“Do you wanna tell me how this happened?”

So you told him all of it. Every single detail.

“I’m gonna find that motherfucker, I swear to god. I’m gonna break his fucking kneecaps.”

“Jack, calm down.”

“No, he hurt you. I’m gonna hurt him.”

“His nose is already broken Jack.”

“I don’t give a fuck. He’s gonna get way worse than that from me.”

“Jack.” He kept cleaning your hand.

“Jack look at me.”

He slowly lifted his head until his eyes met yours.

“I’m gonna press charges. Whichever ones I can. I want them all.”

There was a knock of the door. One of the favorite night shift nurses.

“Hey sweetie brought you a fresh pair of scrubs and our finest grippy socks. X-rays ready for you. Just come out to the hall when your ready darling.”

“Thank you.”

“You need me to help you?”

“I can get dressed myself. You have other patients anyway.”

“Those patients don’t matter to me. You’re the only one I care about here.”

“Can I just have a minute alone Jack?”

He left you to change.you looked at your fist for the first time since you got to the hospital. Looked slightly better without all the blood.

You went into the hall and the nurse walked you down to xray as Jack waited by your room. Thank god the pain meds kicked in with the alcohol because you could barely open your hand.

As you walked back, you heard yelling.

“You were supposed to be fucking watching her! Not getting filthy fucking drunk and letting her wonder off alone!” Jack was throwing his hands in the air.

Langdon stepped up to his face. “I shouldn’t have to watch her for you. You’re here fucking boyfriend. You should’ve been there yourself. Or better yet, she should’ve wanted to stay at home with you!”

“You think you can judge my relationship? Last time I checked I’m not the one in the middle of a divorce and custody battle.”

“Jack!” You yelled down the hall. “Don’t.”

You walked over and pushed him into your room.

“Frank, I don’t blame you for any of this. I need you to know that.”

“No, he’s right, I should’ve been keeping my eyes on you. This shouldn’t have happened.”

“But it did happen. I’m okay. Or at least I will be. I’m not a kid, you don’t need to keep me on a leash. I shouldn’t have gone out there alone. No ones here to blame except the man who did this okay?”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.” You hugged him and walked back into your room.

Jack was pacing back and forth.

“I’m okay Jack. You can calm down.”

Another knock on the door. “X-rays are up.”

He walked over to the computer to open them up.

“What do you see?”

“Boxers fracture.” You pointed to the obvious gap between your bones.

“Gotta go get ortho to come set it in place.”

“Can you just do it?”

“I’ve hurt you enough tonight.”

He left and came back with an ortho resident who reset your hand and put it in a brace. “Gonna need another xray in 3 weeks to see how it’s healing. In the meantime just rest, ice and elevate. You got a lot of swelling so take it easy please.”

Just you and Jack alone again.

“Jack can we talk about what you said?”

“Which part?”

“On the phone. Your voicemail.”

He knew exactly which part you were referring to but, wanted you to say it.

“The part where I said I want you to stay?”

You shook your head no.

“Then which part?”

“The part where you said you that you want to marry me. Have kids with me. Build a life with me here.”

“I meant it all. Every last part.”

“I’m not leaving. I’m going to cancel all the other interviews. I wanna stay here. With you.”

“You don’t need to do that for me. This is your career we’re talking about here. You can’t give up these opportunities. They won’t come around again.”

“I’m not doing it for you. I’m doing it for us. Jack you’re more important than some job. This all means a lot to me but, it won’t mean anything if I can’t come home to you every night for the rest of my life.”

He leaned in a kissed you passionately. He pulled away and looked softly into your eyes.

“So Jack Abbott wants to marry me huh?” You said jokingly.

“Don’t worry I’m not gonna pull out a ring right now or anything. You gotta finish your residency first babygirl.”

“Well now I’ll be expecting a ring the day after I’m done.”

“Guess I better start working on that. But for now let’s get you and that broken hand home.”

“Your shift isn’t over for another 3 hours?”

“They’re gonna cover for me. Gotta get my lady home.”

The drive home was pretty silent. He just put your favorite Radiohead album on for you. He helped you out of his truck and lead you upstairs.

He helped you pick out your favorite pajamas and you went to take another shower. Forgot you had been wearing his favorite matching set under the dress when you left. Thought the night would be ending differently for you two.

Of course you were glad that you were on good terms now. But when he put his hand on your back as you were leaving the hospital, you flinched. And he definitely noticed.

Once the booze started to wear off, you started to realize the extent of what happening to you tonight.

You cried again in the shower. Used the hot water to wash away your tears for you. Put some drops in your eyes to hide the redness.

You took a deep breath before walking out to him in the kitchen. He was holding up the breakfast bagel you bought him that morning.

“Didn’t even see that you bought these.”

“You could always just eat it now if you want. Think I’m just gonna head to bed if that’s alright.”

He open the fridge and put the bagel back inside. “Yeah let’s go. I’m just gonna jump in the shower real quick.”

You climbed into bed. Curled yourself into a ball, facing away from where he would be laying. You were holding back tears. You wanted to be strong for him. There’s was already so much going on in your lives. The last thing he needed was to be worried about you more than he already was.

You head the bathroom door open and his footsteps coming closer. You closed you eyes and preteded to be asleep.

He peeked over to see you. Eyes closed. You felt as he crawled quietly into the bed to face you.

“Hey I know you’re not sleeping. We’ve been in the same bed for over a year now. You never fall asleep that fast.”

You let out a cry.

“Hey, come here. What’s wrong?” He put his hand on your back and you squirmed away as fast as you possibly could.

“I-I’m sorry”, you whimpered out.

“Can you look at me?”

You wiped the tears flowing down your cheek and rolled over to face him.

“You wanna talk about it yet?” He knew there was more going through your mind.

You shook your head. “I need you to hold me. Bu-but I’m scared for you to touch me. It’s not you, I- I don’t know what wrong with me right now. I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. None of this is your fault, okay?”

You sat up, “Can you just put your arm out?”

“Like this?” He put right arm straight out.

You laid down so that his arm was between your head and shoulder.

“Wrap your arms around me, please Jack.”

He brought you as close as you could get to him. You cried into his chest.

“I got you, I got you. Nobody’s gonna hurt you ever again alright?”

You nodded and lifted you head up. He wiped away your tears.

“I love you so much babygirl. So much.”

“I love you too.” You laid back down into his chest.

Jack was wrong you could fall asleep fast. But only when you were in his arms.

Things were gonna be different from now on. Cause you ever trust anyone to put their hands on you again?

———————————————————————

Probably gonna end up making this a short series! Maybe just one more part! Let know what you guys think!

#the pitt #the pitt hbo #jack abbot fanfic #jack abbot x you #jack abbot x reader #dr jack abbot #jack abbott #dr robby #doctor robby #frank langdon #dr langdon #dr abbot x reader #dr robinavitch #micheal robinavitch #ao3 #hbo max #jack abbot smut #robby robinavitch #robby x abbot

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cherrybr4t · 8 months ago

Text

fake enemies — jeonghan (+18, mdni)

💋 hate each others guts? more like rearranging your guts.

WARNINGS: smut, public sex (car), unprotected sex, creampie, slight degradation terms (from hannie)—that’s it!!! 😱

“good lord, not again.”

your fellow team members collectively sighed, with a few unappreciated comments thrown under their breaths.

pacing around the room, you rolled your eyes, hands gripping your hips—huffing and puffing your annoyance to the direction of the man mirroring your frown across the room, with his arms crossed.

“why can’t the both of you just—i don’t know, not even get along but, coexist peacefully like—for once?” joshua’s exasperated tone throws you off a little. he’s not one to usually express frustration in a professional setting; if you can even call your current predicament a ‘professional setting’.

you look away from jeonghan’s pointed look fixated on you. hmm, did you and him push it too far this time?

joshua clasps his hands over his mouth, rubbing his chin “whatever—just, as long as we get this project completed. let’s hold back for 3 more weeks, all right? please,” you start to feel bad at how everyone’s starting to lose their patience with you and jeonghan.

with a saccharine smile, you pressed your nails hard against your palms, “i’ll need a second with you, Jeonghan—if you don’t mind,” your thumb pointing towards the door. “it’ll just be a short minute.” you reassured.

smirking, he walked towards you, “sure,” before turning towards the table of committee members looking intently, and then glancing at joshua.

“why yes—take more precious time out of our meeting to have yet another conversation which we all know will lead to nowhere, go ahead, guys—be my guests,” joshua shrugs and lifts his hands up in a surrender pose.

ignoring him, you walk out with jeonghan scurrying behind you. the minute you and him can’t be seen behind the door, your head snaps left and right to check if the hallways are clear.

jeonghan grabs your face to pull you in for a dragged out peck on the lips. you gasp.

“hannie! i was still on the lookout, what if someone saw us?” you swat away his hands that were tenderly gripping your cheeks. his previous smirk all gone, now replaced with the softest smile that drags his cheeks up so high, teeth gently biting his lower lip as he just stares at you lovingly.

“stop looking at me like that!”

“what? is it a crime now to admire my girlfriend? my absolutely gorgeous beautiful stunning girlfriend?” he probes, poking your left cheek playfully.

“…no…”

“so? it’s already tough enough acting like i don’t wanna just bend you over right then and there inside that room, let me be baby,” he leans in again to give you another sweet kiss on the lips, and you capitulate. who are you to resist your beautiful boyfriend’s kiss anyway.

“wait no stop, let me get to my point first, before joshua comes out looking for us,” you spit out, a little out of breath as you pull away. jeonghan nods patronisingly, unbothered, just thinking about how adorable you are.

“i think we’re dragging this out too much hannie, seems like everyone is getting sick of how we keep ‘fighting’, your fingers acting out apostrophes in the air. “should we just come clean? i’m starting to feel bad..”

“anything you want baby, told you i was all right with them knowing from the start,” jeonghan holds down your shoulders reassuringly. “but i have to admit, the sneaking around has been pretty fun, especially when i get to have you all fucked out for me, and no one seems to be able to tell,” he chuckles.

you bite your lip in deep thought, “…one last sneaking around before we tell them the truth?”

“i looove the way your mind works baby,” jeonghan as eager as ever, heads back inside first, to let joshua know he’s gotta blow off some air, maybe get a smoke or two—and joshua lets his best friend cool off in his own fashion.

you head in a few minutes after, citing that you need a cool down as well, heading to get some coffee and maybe some fresh air. joshua shakes his head but gives in—it’s what he’s used to, and he knows that allowing you both to have a cool down always works; he just doesn’t know what exactly constitutes a cool down for the both of you.

you know where baby

in 10

you walk to the back entrance’s drive through of the campus, spotting jeonghan’s car parked right at the end, covered by huge trees and no other cars in sight.

the minute you climb in, you’re immediately met with your boyfriend’s eager lips, down the side of your neck as he grips your hair so tight you gasp.

“at the back baby,”

like clockwork, you both save time by removing articles of clothing while climbing to the back of his black sedan, spacious and soon to smell like sex and sweat.

you hover over his lap, lips clashing so messily with his.

“want you to ride me today baby,” jeonghan rubs at your clit messily, but with him, you don’t need much to be soaking wet. your cunt is always ready to take him in any time of the day and he knows it.

still, he likes a testament of the effect he has on you. he slides two fingers in, wiggling and scissoring to pump it wider, getting it ready for him.

“my baby is always so fuckin’ ready to take my cock, like my personal slut—i love it,” he whispers as his hazy eyes fixate on you and how you whimper, how you ride his fingers so full of zest.

“hmmph hannie, wanna ride you,” you rub at his cock standing so tall and proud, the precum dripping down his veiny member making you light-headed.

he grabs onto your hips and slides you down his cock slowly, and the immediate clench he feels makes him moan so wantonly. the sheer pleasure of just having your walls wrapped around him is enough for him to feel like he’s on the verge of collapsing.

you grab onto his shoulders, and start giving him all you’ve got, holding on for dear life as you work your hips. “gonna ride you ti-til’ you’re cummin’ inside me hanniee,”

he chuckles darkly, your sweet voice uttering such words to him makes him feral, and he hums—delighted, knowing only he brings out this side of you.

“go ahead baby, remind me what a good slut you are for me,” he leans back, hands still playing with your tits lazily.

jeonghan loves to sit back and watch you try to take control, how you try your very best to please him at all times. “that’s it baby, so pretty, you know that? know how pretty you look riding me baby?” his angel—of course—deserves praises for being so good for him.

you get lost in the feeling of his inches filling every crevice of your silky walls, and how his hand starts to creep up to your neck, going from a gentle grab to a tighter one.

moans and hot breaths fill up his car and so do sounds of skin slapping—resounding the small space that reeks of sex and jeonghan.

he drags you down by your neck to give you yet another sweet kiss, gliding his tongue over your lips before playing with yours. his eyes—he looks at you ever so lovingly as he always does with a flicker of sensuality.

“fuck baby—keep going, i’m gonna cum soon, pussy too good baby,” jeonghan groans out as he notices the same fucked out look you have when you’re about to cum around him.

giving you the final push, he tightens his grip around your neck, whispering to your ear, “cum for me, my pretty pretty girl, i know it’s there, just need you to cum for me before i fill you—”

and your legs tremble as your coil snaps, cunt clenching him so fucking tight, your scream increasing in pitch at each spurt of cum you release—creaming his cock.

jeonghan curses, pushing you up and down his cock a few more times, “fuckfuckfuck—i’m cumming,” his eyebrows furrow and he lets out the neediest moan, dragging it out as he paints your pink walls with the thickest coat of cum and you moan—feeling him load you up with his creamy cum.

“ngghh so full hannie, your cum feels so good in me,” you lay your head on his shoulder, catching your breath.

he holds you there for a few minutes, finding comfort in the warmth of your bodies intertwined.

you remind him that you both will have to head back to the meeting room—with a rather annoyed joshua waiting. he laughs, decides that he wants to stay a while more—not moving, skin to skin with you.

happy hannie day 💋 need a simpy needy hannie to ride too :((

#jeonghan #jeonghan smut #jeonghan fics #jeonghan drabbles #jeonghan scenarios #jeonghan fanfic #jeonghan angst #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan imagines #seventeen smut #seventeen drabbles #seventeen headcanons #seventeen x reader #seventeen fics #seventeen reactions

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gyuubear · 3 months ago

Text

Let Me Prove Myself to You

Kai thinks you won’t be able to handle him, so you beg for a chance to prove yourself

Pairing: dom!Kai x gf!reader

Warnings: mean dom!Kai, virgin!reader, bondage, orgasm control/denial, corruption kink, fingering, pussy spanking, dacryphilia, blow job/face fucking, slight spit kink, hair pulling, choking, breast/nipple play, name calling/pet names, degradation, anything else I missed, MDNI

A/N: First Kai fic!!! I’m kinda nervous to post this bc I can’t tell if it’s good or not, but I hope you guys enjoy it!! 🫶

Wc: 5k

Damn

Kai can’t take his eyes off your ass as he walks you to your apartment. He purposely walks a few steps behind so you don’t notice him staring. It’s not his fault though, how can he not when your ass just looks so good in that skirt?

Begrudgingly, he averts his eyes, feeling a bit guilty for thinking of his sweet innocent girlfriend in such a way. You aren’t exactly naive, but you have way less experience than Kai and he doesn’t want to expose you to such obscene things.

You’ve been dating for only a few weeks now, although you’ve been pining for each other for much longer, and as much as Kai wants to ravage his cute girlfriend, he feels guilty for his dirty thoughts. You’re so trusting and sweet, he feels bad subjecting you to his nasty fantasies. He also doesn’t want you to feel forced; a sweet thing like you will agree to anything he says with little persuasion.

As you guys enter your apartment and get settled in, you suggest getting started on your homework. A sudden laugh from Kai puts a pout on your face.

“If we get our assignments out of the way we can relax sooner!”

In your room the two of you sit down at the study table where you pull out your pencils and notebooks, but Kai leans back in the chair with his arms folded behind his head. From your peripheral vision you notice his shirt lift up. You try your hardest to ignore that smooth patch of skin, ignoring the way it makes your body tingle. God, you wanna fuck him so bad. If only he’d stop treating you like glass.

Aside from a few pecks, some heated make outs, and lingering hands, Huening never takes it farther, he claims that you’re just “not ready yet”. But the patience in you has run out. Slowly, gathering whatever confidence you can, you get up and sit down on his lap. A startled Kai looks up at you, a blush seeping over his skin. It’s not often his sweet angel is this bold. Your lips meet his in a soft kiss. “Kai” you whine, “need you”. His hands find your hips as he quickly gives in, kissing your lips gently. You guys make out for a while, sucking each other's plush lips as you slowly grind down on him.

His lips are so soft, like jelly, and his hands slide down your back making your heart stutter. He's so pretty and hot and he makes you feel like putty and god you just wanna- out of nowhere he pulls away. You’re sitting there dazed and breathing heavily as Kai squeezes your hips in warning, “I think that’s enough”. This usually means he’s gonna make some lame excuse to go home, but you know very well that when he gets home he’s gonna deal with his boner privately. You huff in annoyance. Why can’t he just use his girlfriend who’s so eager for him?

“Kai. Please.” , Summoning all your courage you mumble, “I wanna have sex”.

He sucks in a breath at that, where’s all this boldness coming from? Little does he know you’ve had enough of the beating around the bush. You need him to stuff your pussy already.

“B-but your not-

“Ready yet” you finish his sentence with a dramatic eye roll. “That's what you think but I’m telling you I am. Why do you say things like that anyways? Do you just not wanna be with me?”

He looks at your furrowed eyebrows, the pleading eyes and fights the urge to fuck you raw right then and there. You make it so hard for him to use his head. “No! No that’s not it. I love you and of course I wanna be with you it’s just-” he breaks off with a frustrated sigh, and the blush comes back to his cheeks, finding it a little embarrassing to admit…. “I…. I just don’t think you can handle me”. He swings his head back to stare at the ceiling, anything to avoid your gaze.

You’re not stupid. You know what people say about him; the rumors that he’s a monster in bed. That he’s cute and sweet on the surface but there’s a mean wildness that he hides. Even his own friends joke about it in front of you. Saying stuff like “good luck”, but you don’t mind these things. If anything, these rumors about Kai excite you, you crave it, even.

“I can handle it!” You insist. Kai brings his head back to look you in the eyes, “I don’t think you understand what I’m trying to say.”

“No, I don't think you understand what I’m trying to say. You think I don’t know anything but I’m not dumb!” Before you say more his hand comes up to grab you by the jaw. “I don’t think you’re dumb but you’re a fucking virgin for godsake. Knowing about something and experiencing it are two different things. You have no idea what you’re actually getting yourself into, and I don't want to corrupt you.”

The intensity and warning in his eyes makes you squirm in his lap. All that kissing plus this glimpse into the real Kai making your pussy wet. Biting your lip, you fight to keep composure.

“I know exactly what I’m getting myself into! I'm also not as innocent as you think I am! You can’t make decisions for me, especially when you won’t even let me prove myself to you. At least give me a chance to show you that I can handle it.”

At this point you’re still heaving, hands clinging to his broad shoulders as you study his face. The intensity in his eyes is still there and it’s doing nothing to relieve the ache in your underwear. His hands hang off the arm rest but your body tingles in the places you wish his hands were instead.

Kai really wants to say no, he means what he said about knowing about something being different than actually doing it. But fuck, his adorable little girlfriend is so eager and ready for him, maybe he should give it a try? And to make matters worse, you’re sitting right on his dick, it’s really clouding up his brain.

He finally speaks after a minute, “you really wanna do this?”

You almost jump out of your skin, “Yes! I do! I promise I can do it!!”

Huening chews his lip in contemplation. “Fine”, he grabs you by the jaw again, “but if we’re gonna do this you have to be able to take everything I give you- and I mean everything- without complaining. And if you can't do it then that’s that.”

You scoff at his threat, “What do you mean by that? We just won’t ever have sex?”

“No, we will. But it’ll be the most boring vanilla sex.” His hands trails down your neck, nails digging into soft flesh. “I don’t mind locking up a part of myself if it means you’ll be happy and safe.”

“Well that’s not gonna happen”, you retort, “cuz I’m gonna prove it to you”.

And as much as he wants to argue, he can’t help being proud at your insistence.

“On your knees”

“H-huh?”, You sputter. The sudden command and change in tone startling. But he only raises a taunting eyebrow, smirking as he says, “already too much for you?”

“N-no!” You scrambled to get on your knees before him, hands neatly placed on your knees, watching as he calmly unzips his jeans. It’s like he flipped a switch; the cute and sweet Kai gone. Your already damp underwear sticking uncomfortably to your pussy. Finally, you get to meet the part of Kai that he’s been hiding from you.

He pulls his dick out, giving it a few pumps and all you can do is stare. You’ve never actually seen his dick before…and now it’s right in front of your face….and…he's big. A little too late to realize that but damn.

“Go ahead” he urges.

As embarrassing as it is, you don’t actually know what you’re doing. But you have been watching videos so you think back to what you’ve learned and reach for Kai. You tentatively wrap a hand around him, biting your lips at the way Kai groans.

You try your hardest to recall what you learned from all those porn videos; first smearing the precum leaking from his tip with your thumb, then giving his tip a soft kiss before going in for a lick.

“Fuck, where’d you learn that?” As far as Huening was aware all you know how to do was kiss. His head spins, maybe you really do know more than you let on.

“I’ve been watching videos.” You chirp excitedly, “I wanna make you feel good!” When his dick is wet enough you slowly ease down, taking as much of it as you can, but you only get about half way before you’re gagging and coughing and have to pull away.

Kai slides his fingers into your hair- he doesn’t do anything at first- just lightly massaging your scalp. “Fuck, baby, you’re so sweet. Almost makes me feel bad for what I’m about to do to you.” Before you can respond he shoves you back down on his cock, laughing at the way you struggle. He pulls you up by your hair and allows you to take a breath. His big hand shoves your right back down, this time he thrust into your mouth a few times. When he brings you back up you’re gasping for air with tears falling from your eyes.

“Too much?” He taunts. But as he leans forward his other hand comes to wipe the tears away. The hungry look on his face morphs into one of sincerity and love as he says, “just tell me to stop and I will.”

But you won’t. You’d be out of your mind to not want this. Yeah, it’s a little more than you were expecting but, shit, it’s everything you’ve ever wanted. You’re hot as fuck boyfriend, sculpted to perfection by the universe, using you in the best way possible. If only he could see how wet your pussy is right now.

You assure Kai you’re fine and get back to work, giving kitten licks here and there while you pump the base. “What am I gonna do with you?” Kai moans. He throws his head back, staring at the ceiling. You don't realize it but his dirty fantasies are coming to life before him, his angel girlfriend on her knees before him, begging to be used like a toy, so eager to please and be ruined.

He leans forwards again and pulls you off his dick. “Open.” He orders. You’re a little dazed from the cock in front of you but you manage to part your lips. He spits in your mouth and brings your right back to his dick, relishing in the way you gag. A few more thrusts and he pulls you off for good, pulling his pants up and ordering you to get in the bed.

From your spot on the bed you observe your boyfriend rummaging through your closet. He seems to be going through the tool box kept behind your clothes for emergencies. The longer you wait the more your insides twist around each other; what could he possibly be looking for? The realization hits that you don’t actually know what he’s gonna do. The rumors you've heard were all vague, never providing details regarding what Kai’s capable of, and you’ve never thought farther than just convincing him to have sex.

What’s he gonna do to you?

Your pussy throbs at the thought, the dainty pink underwear you're wearing is soaked in your wetness. And the lack of attention to that area is making you fidgety. Kai finally finds what he's looking for, but when he makes his way to the bed your heart stutters in your chest and the butterflies in your tummy go wild. As much as you trust Kai, you gulp at the various pieces of rope in his hands. "What's that for?" You ask tentatively. So desperate for attention you don't know how much more of the teasing and games you can take, but you can't let Kai discover how close you are to breaking.

"I think you know what it's for." Kai smirks. He sits down beside you and leisurely ties your limbs to the bedposts. Despite the mean look in his eyes, Kai ensures the ropes aren't too tight; it makes your heart flutter...it also makes something else flutter. Especially when Kai places himself between your knees and drags a finger over your underwear underneath your skirt. The contact makes you whine, so soft and barely there.

"Been wanting to do this for so long", he murmurs. Pushing your underwear aside he runs his finger through your folds, collecting your wetness on his fingers. He smears it over lips and watches with a predatory gaze as you instinctively lick it all up.

"The things I wanna do to you.."

You whimper at his words, the way he said them…. you’re suddenly afraid that maybe you won't be able to handle what he has planned for you. He slips his finger into your gummy walls and both of you moan at the feeling.

“So wet, just for me.” The slow drag back and forth of his finger makes you writhe against your sheets. You tug at the ropes in an effort to cope with this new feeling, and the tugging provides a nice contrast to the feeling between your legs. Your whimpers fill the room along with Kai’s hums of approval. “My pretty baby..” he coos, his other hand gripping your thigh, “no one’s ever touched you here before, hm?”

“No…” you manage a whisper. His finger continues to curve inside you deliciously, occasionally brushing against that spot that makes you see stars.

The whines slipping from your mouth become more and more agitated and needy. It feels like falling, like you’re losing control over your body. Your wrists and ankle are red now from all the pulling and squirming you’re doing.

But Kai only laughs, “pathetic. Falling apart over just one finger. Fucking slut.”

You gasp at that word, slut, he’s never used names like that. More wetness leaks from your pussy, coating Kai’s other fingers. He pulls out of your hole, earning another whine from you, and shoves three fingers into your mouth. As you suck and lick them he shoves them farther down your throat, making you cough and choke. He takes his hand away, this time bringing them down to slap your soaked and sensitive pussy. You jerk froward with a yelp, the ropes digging painfully against your skin.

His hand comes down to give 1, 2, 3 more slaps, leading you to squeal and sob while a tear slips from your eye at the overwhelming sensation.

“Kai!”

“Too much?” He feigns concern, bringing the hand covered in your wetness to massage your thigh, smearing your mess all over the skin there.

You force yourself to take a breath, “No.”

If you’re being honest it is a little too much to take in all at once, however, you can’t back out now. You made such a fuss about it earlier, you'd never hear the end of it from Kai if you didn't succeed.

Kai pulls up your top and palms your boobs through your bra. The new sensation makes you groan; he's never touched you like this before, usually so polite and careful. You need to prove to him you can take everything so he'll always touch you like this. Shoving your bra down he grabs a boob in one hand as he licks and sucks the other one. A gasp falls from your mouth at the sensation; the way his teeth graze your nipple and the way he moves his mouth like a starved man amplifies the ache between your legs.

Simultaneously, he pinches your other nipple and without warning shoves two fingers back into you, pumping them rapidly, giving you no time to adjust.

"Kai!" Your scream is music to his ears. Your helpless body squirms beneath him as his fingers pump in and out of your pussy without mercy.

You lay there taking it, and wail, "I'm gonna cum!"

"No."

Your heart drops hearing that word, "What do you mean no?" His fingers ram so deliciously in and out of you. It's hard to focus on his words. Maybe you heard him wrong?

"W-what do you mean?"

“What, so fucked out you can’t follow a simple order? I mean no, you can’t cum.” His words drip in malice, seeping into your hazy brain and causing the walls of your pussy to clench around his fingers. He senses you dropping your resolve, shoving his fingers even faster, just to torture you some more. He brings his lips back to your nipple, humming as you wince when he nips and licks.

“Cum and you lose; and I’ll know that you can’t handle me.”

The sob that gets goes straight to his dick. He pulls away from your boobs and sits back on his knees to look at your worn out figure, his fingers still pumping in you. Ropes pulled taught as you fight your orgasm, tears running down your neck, pretty moans, rosy cheeks and desperate eyes. Such a pretty sight.

You’re doing better than Huening Kai expected, he expected you to give up at the “no cumming” part. His smirk grows as he plans all the dirty thoughts he’s gonna bring to life if you actually win this thing, he hasn’t even scratched the surface yet. But to focus on the present, he decides you’ve suffered enough. “You wanna cum, princess?” You nod enthusiastically, “Please!” Your thighs shake with tension, trying to keep it together a little longer and ignoring the way Kai’s laugh travels down your spine.

“Eager whore. Go ahead, cum.”

Loud pornographic moans pour from your throat as Kai’s fingers hit that perfect spot and your orgasm finally washes over you. Your body jerks and spasms as the waves engulf you, tight ropes digging into your skin, the only thing keeping you grounded- well, that and Kai’s hands on you.

Coming down from your high, you’re left a whimpering mess. The sight of you is a wet dream that Kai never wants to wake up from. He lets out a hum of approval while massaging your thighs, “such a pretty princess, did so well.” You whimper at his praise, your hole fluttering at the wicked look on his face.

“Now I just need you to cum two more times for me.” He snickers.

“What?!” You must have heard him wrong... The red marks on your limbs burn. Your pussy is red too, and swollen just like your nipples. “Cum two more times? But I-i can’t- I-” you cut yourself off, huffing and puffing at your helplessness.

You bite your lip when you realize what you almost said.

"Can't what?” Kai taunts with a smug smile, “Can't take it? Can’t handle it? Can't do anything but lay there all fucked out and dumb.” Your lips quiver against your will as you attempt to defend yourself, “N-no, I can-”. But he cuts you off, “What a cute, pathetic whore, acting like you still have choice. You will take everything I give you, it’s too late to back out now.” Goosebumps break out over your skin and you search for your sweet Kai behind the wicked haze in his eyes, but you realize it doesn't matter; he's your Kai, and you trust him completely.

His fingers trail down your thigh and over your folds, you gasp when they brush your sensitive bud. Gently, he pushes down, knowing damn well it’s gonna overstimulate you, and relishes at the way you whine. After torturing you some more, he scoops up your cum with his fingers and fucks it back into your hot pussy. He massages your slick walls, taking his time exploring your pussy for the second time.

He lowers himself over you again, this time planting a soft kiss on your lips and another on your tear-stained cheek, a stark contrast to the sinful things he was doing earlier. The feeling doesn’t last long however, because he brings his other hand back to roughly squeeze your boobs. His lips, deceivingly sweet, make their way down to harshly nip and suck the delicate skin of your neck. Fresh tears fall down your face at the overstimulation.

You sniffle, trying your best to stifle a whine, “K-Kai..”. But he simply bites harder on your neck, smiling against your skin. As his fingers find a steady rhythm you feel your second orgasm approaching, much faster this time. “Kai! I’m gonna cum again!” He continues kissing your skin like he can’t even hear you. The only clue of acknowledgement is in how rough he gets; recklessly sucking hickies that are sure to leave a mark, kneading your breasts, pinching your nipple until you cry out.

“Baby!” You scream out urgently as your back arches. Kai groans into your skin, not bothering to lift his head, “So loud, you want the whole apartment building to know what a slut you are?”

“Kai, please, I’m gonna cum I-i- can’t-” take it anymore… the words almost slip past your lips again in your exertion. You gnaw on your lips, praying he didn’t notice, but unfortunately for you, he does.

“What was that, princess?” He taunts, “Wanna say it again?”

“N-no.” You sob. As Huening continues pumping his fingers in you he licks a hot tear streaming down your neck. The tension in your thighs makes them tremble, your whole body is on fire.

“You wanna cum?” He asks against your neck.

You cry out a “Yes!”, not caring how desperate and eager you sound.

Kai grins, “Then beg for it. Convince me that you deserve to cum."

You don’t need much encouragement from him; the pleas falling readily from your quivering lips. If Kai tried to stop you from cumming again you were gonna beg for mercy anyways.

"Please, Kai!", you shriek, "Let me c-cum, please, I've been so good! I took everything without complaining!"

He pretends to give it some thought. "Mm, not good enough." He says simply. So simply, like he's reading a random sentence, like he's not actively ruining you. "No! Please, baby! I-i really need this, I'm gonna die if you don't let me cum. I've been such a good girl-" Your voice cracks at the end as you sob, shutting your eyes tight as you force yourself not to feel his fingers hitting that magical spot. "Such a good girl", you repeat desperately, "And all for you, only for you". This seems to make Kai's ears perk up. "All for me?", He coos, "Such a clever whore, you know just what to say to get what you want, hm?"

You're so focused on not cumming but you force yourself to respond, "N-no, Kai, I m-mean it". "Yeah, baby?", he taunts, "You poor thing. Go on, cum for me."

You finally give in to your orgasm with a groan, each wave hitting you harder than the last. The bliss is almost blinding as your eyes roll back and your wet, hot pussy flutters around Kai's fingers. To your shock, Huening Kai gives you gentle kisses all over your chest, his hand that was roughly palming your boobs now wiping the tears from your cheek. He even eases the pace of his fingers in your cunt, helping you ride out your high.

But just as you start to relax, Kai brings his hand down to slap your cunt again. "Kai!" The shriek slips right past your lips in surprise and you fight to keep your body still, but you're overstimulated and your body completely drained.

"P-please..."

Kai raises his eyebrows mockingly, wondering if you're finally gonna admit defeat. He pouts as he asks coyly, "Something wrong? Want me to stop?" He doesn't even wait for your reply as he slaps you again.

You tremble underneath him, pretending you can't hear the embarrassing squelching sound when his hand meets your dripping pussy. His touch feels so good though, you need him inside you. "Please.." You sniffle, "I-i need you."

"Aw, my pretty baby needs me? What do you need me to do?" His fingers trail across your clit, soft brushes that make you lose your mind. His tone drips in false concern, you can see it in the way his eyes narrow as he watches you. Your mouth goes dry. Something about his eyes seem different, as if a new fire sparked in them, a fire different from what was burning before.

He watches you carefully, noticing the change in your demeanor....noticing the fear on your face. He leans down to press his plush lips to your neck to hide his growing smirk. When he comes back up his clean hand slowly wraps around your neck as his other hand continues toying with your red and swollen pussy. Kai squeezes your neck just enough to see the alarm spread through your features.

A dear in headlights, he thinks fondly.

He gives another squeeze, "I asked a question, baby. I thought you had more manners than this, tch."

"I-...I need y-" You break off with a shaky breath as he applies more pressure to your throat. Your head spins and you give up with a quiet whine.

It's true that there's a new fire burning in Kai. Watching you squirm and whine and fall apart on his fingers has him losing his mind. All he can think about is filling you up with his dick, he's waited so long for this moment.

He quickly pulls away to untie the ropes, he doesn't want you tied up for your first time.

When the ropes are finally gone he searches his wallet for a condom and then joins you back on the bed. Leaning down, pressing all his weight into you, he asks, "Are you sure you wanna do this?" You let out a broken sob at his question, "Yes. I need you to fuck me so bad."

He quickly gets rid of his shirt and pulls his pants down just enough to roll on the condom. Since your hands are no longer bound you can finally touch the smooth skin along his body. You decide to wrap your hands around his biceps, feeling the way his muscles tense. You both moan when he rubs his dick up and down your soaked pussy.

"Fuck", he curses. As he slowly nudges his tip farther, more curses fall from his pretty lips. You whimper and whine, throwing your head against the pillows as his dick stretches you open, the pain hurts so good. Your nails dig into his skin as he finally bottoms out with a low groan. "Pretty baby", he sighs as his head drops to your shoulder, "so tight for me".

It takes everything in him to be still as he waits for you to get accustomed to his size. When you finally tell him to go on he bites the skin at the base of your neck as he slowly thrusts in and out. "Kai!" You moan. As your back arches he slips his arm underneath, keeping your tummies pressed closely. His other hand roughly grabs under your thigh.

He moans in your ear, going crazy from how your pussy clenches around him, "Gonna fuck you.. 'til you can't walk". Little by little his hips start rocking into you faster as he gives into his darkest desires. The sounds you're making aren't helping; loud high pitched screams that you don't even try to stifle. The neighbors are gonna be sick of you two.

"Kai, p-please faster!" you beg, already fucked out of your mind. The way is dick is pumping in and out of you is making you see stars. Kai on the other hand needs no encouragement, he quickens his pace, pounding into you until you're a crying sobbing mess.

He pulls away from your neck to look at your fucked out state, "Such a good slut", he can't control the groan he lets out. He watches your boobs bounce around and the way you cling to him, his hips erratically slamming against yours. He had planned on torturing you some more, to make a desperate, ruined whore out of you but right now he's so drunk off you he can't even think straight. There's always next time, he decides.

"Kai I'm gonna cum!" You sob. A particular rough thrust makes you shriek, and your walls tighten around him. This time he doesn't try to stop you, "Me too, baby. Cum with me."

After a few sloppy thrusts your orgasms hit you at the same time, and both of you are a mess as you unravel at the feeling. Kai finds your lips and kisses you lovingly as you ride out your orgasms together.

When the high finally subsides, you’re still heaving, trying to recover. He gives you one final kiss before he flops down beside you. And despite your fatigue and the fact that you can hardly feel your legs, you excitedly roll over to his side, "See?! I told you I could handle it!!!"

He laughs at that, "Yeah, barely." You're so giddy with excitement you don't even mind his teasing. You just roll your eyes and go to cuddle him.

——

#txt #txt ff #txt smut #txt huening kai #txt hard hours #hueningkai hard hours #huening kai smut #txt scenarios #dom!hueningkai #txt x reader #hueningkai x reader #hueningkai smut #hueningkai ff #dom!txt

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nevadancitizen · 4 months ago

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-> OH VIKTOR, MY VIKTOR (WHAT COULD'VE BEEN)

synopsis: viktor reality-skips and meets different versions of you, different versions of himself, and some sort of god, who tells him of an unyielding truth.

word count: 5k

ships: viktor/reader

tags: angst with a happy ending, fluff and angst, pre-established relationship, pre-season 1 act 3 (aka sky isn't dead (yet))

notes: this is me cashing in my birthday fic (as in i can write anything cause it's my birthday) so i rewrote my other viktor fic w a twist from his perspective