#advanced hip hop

[soapdispensersalesman]

[mode7rap]

Wario Rap

Watch the full video on my YouTube Channel https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CYFvi6uscN8

[beatz-hc]

[precisemuzic]

Lil' WeezyCon to Kick Off November 2, Expanding Lil WeezyAna Fest with a New Networking Platform

By Eddy “Precise” Lamarre On November 2, 2024, Live Nation Urban, in partnership with Culture Creators, will debut Lil’ WeezyCon—a dynamic addition to the annual Lil WeezyAna Fest in New Orleans. The inaugural event will take place at The Fillmore from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m., offering high-level networking opportunities with thought leaders, creatives, artists, and young professionals. The event…

[dudja]

My favorite Pokémon game ever

[delta-chan]

You know, I hear of this "dark academia" and I don't know much about it, but I do know I've seen a small debate about people thinking it's related to school uniforms but from what I've seen out of my periphery makes me thing it's like "old book smell but everything is old book smell"

[wyvernest]

soft s3x and grey sweats

pairing: miguel o'hara x f!gf!reader

warnings: smut, tooth rotting fluff, miguel wears grey sweatpants, soft and loving sex, domesticity, unprotected piv

summary: miguel ft. grey sweatpants

A gentle drizzle splatters on the windows of your bedroom, tapping its soft, irregular crystal drops onto the glass only to wake you from your blissful nap.

You had fallen asleep with your head on his chest, invaded by the warmth of his body next to yours, the fascinating feeling of being home with him. You couldn't ever dare to ask for more than that.

With a spine-bending stretch, you step out of the cosiness of the king-sized bed following the realisation of his absence. Leaping down the stairs, you seek the comfort of him being near you like a throat-gripping vice.

You hear the water running, occasionally overlapped by clattering, dishes clanking and drawers being pushed shut.

You step out into the hall of your open-concept kitchen, linen stockings preventing even the subtlest noises of your movements from reaching him through the ambiance.

Your weight on the wooden floor is merely a gust of wind as you sit yourself into the corner of the sofa in order to watch him from up close.

You hug your legs to your chest in an attempt to adapt to the temperature change of the room, your flimsy top and panties doing little in covering your middle.

He hasn't turned to you since you hopped off the stairway. Arrogance tugs at the furthest corner of your mind after having sneaked behind his hyper vigilance, completely unnoticed. You seize the opportunity to study him in the absence of his piercing gaze fixed upon you.

Your eyes linger over the expanse of his broad back, the navy blue, short-sleeved shirt creasing in thin, cascading lines over his shoulder blades as he shifts his weight to his right, bicep bulging when he stretches his hand up into a cupboard.

You're more than delighted to note the easiness with which he attains things normally out of your reach.

Not only once did you call for his help to get you something from any place higher above you, having him stand behind you when doing so, and without fail him making sure to push his groin up against your ass in the process, prompting you to bend just slightly forward onto the board or sink in front of you before the simplest request for aid turned into you, taking him against any surface around the house.

It became quite the signal after a while. Whenever he heard you, 'Miguel! Come here for a second, baby’, his cock would fatten in advance at the sound of the command.

"Should've stayed upstairs, muñeca. I was making something for you." he snaps you out of your reverie, the sleepy raspiness in his voice deliciously running late over the last syllables of his remorseful disfavour.

While still not facing you, it turns out he was well-aware of your presence.

"Don't worry about it. I'll just watch." you excuse yourself, draping your midriff over the armrest, hands supporting your head on the soft cushions as you thaw at the sight of him cooking for you.

He returns to the kitchen island, his index finger mindlessly following the instructions he was mentally revising, before his eyes find you on the couch, scanning every patch of skin you have on display, as if sizing you up for his dessert.

He allows his vision to wash over your silky smooth thighs, your waistline that moulds into the hill of the pillows, the exact same way it moulds so erotically against him when he pistons his hips into yours.

With your pleading gaze inviting, thighs squeezed together in frustration, he is unsure of what to finish next, the pancakes, or you.

Your attention drops to the chubbed, prominent curve of his stiffening cock in his sweatpants, the shade of it nearly obscenely large, evident on the grey fabric. His hand slips down his crotch, lazily palming his dick through the material. You feel the heat pooling between your thighs, yearning growing unbearable.

"I have to let it rest. I'm all yours now." he suggests smugly, and part of you suspects that he had been needing to take you since you decided to flutter your eyes shut on the bed, arms coiled around his waist.

You shamelessly keep your eyes on target as he sets the dough bowl aside, approaching you with a heaviness in his pace that you know oh so well.

His dick twitches ever so slightly in his pants, hardening until its outline becomes lewdly evident, straining upwards into his pants in all its length and girth that ruptures you unforgivingly whenever he stuffs himself inside you.

Before he can even reach the sofa, your eager hands clutch his waist, feeling the rigid muscles underneath his shirt as you start planting gentle kisses down his abdomen, having him shudder at the contact even through the cotton fibre.

Your soft breasts meet his bulge in the process, offering nothing more than a few mere brushes that only rile him up more than he had hoped.

He drops his weight next to you on the cushions as the only way to avoid the urge to pull his cock out and shove it down your throat through your pretty, plush lips. He opts to rest his head back on the pillows, legs spread wide in front of him, taking up nearly all the space next to you.

Not a single moment is wasted before you take his cheeks in your hands, fingertips grazing his rough, barely visible stubble, pressing rushed, obsessive kisses all over his face.

You slide one leg over his, seeking the pressure of his broad, firm thigh to your clothed cunt.

His own hands are quick to grab your waist, pulling you flush against him, your chest flattened on his. His lips find yours through your loving pecks, deepening the kiss he caught you with, swiftly interrupted by a soft gasp of yours the second your ass meets his boner.

You teasingly lower yourself onto him gently, revelling in the feeling of the tip pressing harshly into the thin fabric of your panties.

Letting your hand travel down his firm chest, down his abdomen and over the sizable bulge in his sweatpants, you cup him through the material, applying just enough pressure to coax a groan out of his throat.

His wide thighs involuntarily flex on your sides and he twitches in your hand, a reminder of his force, his size in comparison to you, his ability to have you any time he wanted despite the position, despite your teasing.

His head leans back on the couch exposing his throat, eyes dazed out and fixed on the view of your breasts peeking from under your crop, visibly satisfied with the angle he found. Your boobs, round and soft, ever so inviting for him to knead in his large hands, he thinks.

Warm palms leave your hips to slide up your waist, disappearing under the cotton shirt, idly groping your chest.

You reel at the feeling of his rough, calloused hands on your smooth skin, touching and fondling in all the right places.

His knuckles protrude every now and then through the thin textile as he keeps massaging your breasts, feeling your pulse quicken with each deep breath you take.

Before you can even decide on your next move, you feel the blistering warmth of a splayed out hand on your back, propping you gently as he tilts you to the side, a familiar bow of such a dirty dance that has your thoughts melting out of your brain, your whole existential purpose being resumed to him alone in a matter of seconds.

He lays you down over the length of the couch with such care, such strength that has you submitting mindlessly, wrapping your frail arms around his neck. Legs up in the air, he has you just like he always does. Your blood boils through you, the ignition of nerves only he could ever cause.

He descends upon you, veiling your entire body in his, hands eagerly running over your body, playing you like an instrument that only sings for him, that only he can hold.

You sigh, taking in the scent of him, letting it invade your lungs like inhalants. The visceral musky cologne, with shades of a pine forest that had your thoughts run wild and senses sharpened.

Half lidded eyes accentuate his savagely, crimson irises and dilated pupils, the sheer sight of you under him never ceasing to rile him up bad enough to make him beg for your touch.

You squirm weakly; quickly enough he takes the hint and hooks his thumb around your panties, dragging them down your soft skin, impatience evident in his movements.

You feel the weight of his hard cock on your thigh, head going dizzy at the thought of its girth stretching you open, the thought of the pained groans that crawl out of his throat when he comes, his dick pulsating inside you.

He stills above you, eyes darting over your face, as if searching for something he had just remembered he was missing, a gaze condimented with adoration, curiosity, and a hesitancy you may only interpret as astonishment.

"No puedo creer que seas mía" (”Can't believe you're mine.”) he mutters, barely above a halted whisper, following the realisation of your rather perplexed demeanour when confronted with such antics. ”Makes me think that maybe", he pauses, "pushing through all the shit in my life made me worthy of you.”, he confesses, vulnerable and wounded.

You've caught smudges of this view of his before, only not this categorical. In a way, you find it quite the most heartwarming yet peculiar thing there is to know about him. He seeks the comfort of believing that all the suffering he endured meant something, a sacrificial lamb for him to ultimately earn the limitless love of your embrace, your affections and unwavering devotion.

It wasn’t pride that clawed at his memories of having conquered and survived when so many others didn’t in the same circumstances he faced. It was relief, the relief of a man that swam the ocean to find paradise.

And there you were, silk-smooth, gentle hands cupping his face with such infatuation he did not think possible, looking up at him like there wasn’t anything more beautiful in existence you would rather see.

His heart had inevitably melted into yours; now soldered together against all odds fate could bestow.

”I love you, Miguel. With or without your scars.”, you pull him into a reassuring, promise-sealing kiss, which he softly reciprocates, regaining his confidence and unyielding want.

His lips ghost over your jugular, relishing in the way your exhales halt in your throat, pausing in expectancy as his hot breath excites goosebumps over the satin skin of your exposed neck.

”I love you more.” he teases, lips latching onto your pulse point, lightly sucking hungry kisses down to the valley where your throat meets your shoulder.

Despite knowing how adamant you were about your own love being immeasurable, let alone any lesser than his, he took great joy in dramatically rivalling you on the matter, beclouding your fondness only to start a competition of who manages to sway the other with their words of pure worship and fidelity.

Whether there was another underlying reason for his racing I love you more’s, you do not know. Maybe a reminiscence of his mistrustful, defensive nature, reflecting its last slither of bewilderment into a seemingly innocent insistence that he, indeed, loved you more than you loved him.

How could he not? You had no knowledge of the things he had to do for his job, what it truly meant to risk everything for someone, to risk your life for another.

And he prefers it this way, to have you shielded away from the horror of finding yourself in that situation, from the heartbreak of even imagining the circumstances in which you may decide to give your life for him in all your passion, let alone pondering upon the choice and place the verdict upon your declaration of love, weighing it down in all gravity and seriousness of the pledge. In the depths of his mind, he dreads it, hearing you say, ‘I love you, I would give my life for you’, although he would do so for you without thinking twice.

He dreads knowing that his presence in your life could scar you so that you may have to die for him, that his soul alone could be stained in your blood, even only in hypothesis.

Therefore, he feels far more content thinking that you don’t quite love him as much, thinking that you, as perfect as you are, would not suffer should anything happen to him. That your attachment to him will only ever bring you nothing but joy.

And oh how he brought you joy. Pure bliss and paradisiacal rapture. Even more so when he held you so dearly against him, painting you in doting kisses, marks of which linger on your skin long after he’s departed.

His warm, broad hand sails down over the plushy mound of your breast, indulging in a layover just to squeeze lightly. To drift below; its tender, round shape fitting in the junction between his thumb and index finger; his palm seemingly continuing its travel down your waist before returning unexpectedly, massaging your soft tit after a run down and up your waist, making the butterflies in your belly grow agitatedly.

The meagre shudders of your body underneath his unpredictable and exciting touch, the silent whines that die in your throat as he kisses down the crook of your neck have his cock twitching in his pants, beads of precum gathering on the flushed tip, staining the material. You feel the unmistakable length of it poke your thigh, hard and thick.

"Eres tan buena conmigo" (”You’re so good to me.”) he breathes deeply, voice hoarse with restraint, lacing his words with a poised thread that wraps around your neck, earning him a fractured moan. “Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.”

Grabbing onto his massive shoulders for support, delighted with the way his muscles ripple under your soft hands as he continues his attack on your most sensitive spots he knows so well, you press your leg tentatively into his hard-on, an unspoken, considerate request for him to cease the teasing and chase his own pleasure.

“I want you”, you whisper breathily, finding your voice on the last word, accentuating the singularity of your need, the force with which you crave him, only him. “I love you, Miguel, I wanna make you happy.” you declare desperately, planting another suffocating kiss on his slightly agape lips, having him gasp softly into your mouth, a killer whale surfacing above the waterline for a superficial breath before diving back into the depths of the ocean.

He kisses you with such ardour, savouring the addictive taste of your delicate lips, slipping his tongue into your mouth like you hadn’t seen each other for months, like one of those desperate days in which he has his way with you right after he returns from a bone-chilling mission throughout the multiverse.

After ending the kiss with an unnecessarily harsh smooch, he draws back, making you giggle through unrelenting panting. He scans your face, absorbing the image of you, in your most defenceless self, so full of what can only be adoration for him.

He takes in your half-lidded, love-struck eyes, the look he thinks not even the bestest of painters of the world could capture on canvas. The look he thinks would be perverted in blasphemy should it be, even in attempt, recreated on any portrait, any sculpture, any photograph.

He follows the line of your jaw that cascades sharply into the crook of your neck, the only safe place for him to lay his head at night, the place he reveres to place the sweetest of kisses upon, having you either laugh or melt in his arms.

His vision then lands on your sore lips, exhaling the very air he breathes, uttering the same words that echoed in his head out in the field; ‘I love you, truly, entirely and through my whole being. With my body, heart and soul, oh, I love you.’

He dips his head down your waist in reverence, leaving gentle pecks down the line of your stomach. In any other instance, you would giddily chuckle at his ministrations, a chuckle that would soon turn into a hearty burst of laughter, as he knew just the spots to touch and tickle and make you reel in retaliation when play-fighting on a particularly lazy Sunday evening.

However, now, there was no impulse to laugh. You watch him closely as he reaches the crease of your pelvic bone, looking up to meet your gaze.

You feel your face heat up at the sight of him, a strong hand wrapped around your thigh, the other holding your middle.

Satisfied with the moans he successfully drove out of you, breaths getting heavy at the thought of how wet you have to be by now, he sits up on his knees to hurriedly haul his shirt over his head.

His dick grows harder at the familiar picture of you, laid back on the sofa, eyes glazed with drunken want and the remembrance of his feverish touch on you.

Letting your hands roam his chest and firm abdomen while he disposes of the shirt, you curl your fingers into the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers, carefully dragging them down his bulky thighs, eyes widening as his cock springs upwards from the grey fabric, hitting his stomach before ever-so-slightly bending to the right under its generous weight.

You let yourself fall back into the cosy corner of the couch, parting your legs with lascivious speed while watching him stroke his now glistening cock, eyes trained on yours.

A vigorous, bulging forearm anchors next to your head, the other guiding himself inside you. His mountainous shoulders block any view of the room aside from him, and you obey the impulse to run your hands over his biceps, his pecs, his jaw.

You draw in a sharp breath at the contact of his fat tip on your wet folds, rubbing into the dampness at the entrance before breaching you.

You whimper softly, trying to adjust. No matter how many times you have sex, it always takes you time to adapt to his size, to fit him inside you to the hilt.

His forehead rests against yours as he pushes further in, a gentle hand coming to collect a few unruly strands of hair from your face. It stops to cup your fiery, rosy cheek, his thumb grazing your dainty skin protectively, soothingly, before his arm docks symmetrically to the other, beside your head to balance his weight on top of you.

Your tear-welled eyes flutter shut, the dip between your brows deepening and rising into an unspoken plea for a one-second pause. He stops, knowing of your struggles despite your fervent insistences that he may always bottom out regardless of your aches.

He cannot bring himself to cause you discomfort in any way, even under the greenlight of your sincere consent.

“I know, love, I’m sorry.”, he pacifies you, and you’re overwhelmed by his attentive care, starting to rain messy, fatigued kisses over each patch of skin on his face within reach. He returns the gesture in earnest, covering your features in slow smooches.

It calms you, allowing him to push all the way inside your tight cunt, grunting into your temple as you tense around his shaft the moment his tip presses against your cervix.

A loud sigh that swiftly leaves your agape mouth tells him to proceed. His hips start gyrating languidly, his dick exits you only halfway, coated in your juices, before driving back in with a quiet squelch. You throw your head back on the pillows, legs coiled securely around his waist as he makes love to you, laying you onto a cloud of pleasure.

"Ugh, oh-," he groans, his voice deep and rugged, mirroring his own mind-numbing bliss, “you feel so good”. With his head now leaned into your chest, his heavy breaths are hot on your skin, timed with the drive of his hips into yours.

He starts going faster, yet the force of his thrusts still soft. The second he finds the puffy nub of nerves that snaps firecrackers in your lower belly, you grab at the mattress, gasping and moaning weakly. Muted whines are put out in your throat as you close your mouth to swallow a kiss your body had craved to give him.

His shoulders flex under his weight as he picks up more speed, nearing his high and finding the rhythm you know only leads to those desperate grunts that have you coming only from their sound alone.

He pushes into his thrusts, rubbing the coarse hair above the base of his cock on your clit. Your back contorts and arches in response, gifting him an even more delicious angle for the precise rolls of his hips.

You choke on a pained scream that dissolves into your limbs as you come hard, your orgasm washing over you in drumming tidal waves, crashing onto you with every drive of his fat cock into your soft, drenched cunt.

"Oh-- ugh, yeah- so good," he groans into your rose, kiss-marked neck, seemingly taken aback by the force of his own euphoria, as if he had been expecting a gentle current of ecstasy as result of his intendedly soft and gentle session of lovemaking, instead being met a fierce jolt of elation. He stills, holding a breath from erupting out of his throat into a shaky moan.

The bridge of his nose is pressed perfectly into your neck, a sculpture-worthy puzzle of two souls sewn together. His hot palm seeks the feeling of your smooth skin, landing shy of your waist, holding you against him with the firmness of a man who heeds every longing you had ever voiced, who heeds the closeness you had always coveted as you rode the rapids of your orgasm.

The pressure hammers into you in aftershocks, hauling you back down in fading flutters, pulsing into your lower belly as he tenses, pushing his hips flush against your ass with one final blow, releasing into the warmth of your cunt.

You clench faintly at the feeling of his fat cock spasming and twitching inside you, catching on to the last gust of your high.

He groans in oversensitivity, pulling out before carefully placing his broad hand in between your thighs, tenderly cupping your dripping pussy to prevent his come from staining the peppered grey couch. You flinch at the contact, not having fully recovered from the stimulation.

He leans into you, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. You turn to him instinctively, unable to find your voice or enough strength in your arms to do anything but gaze up at him with the face he knew so well; the euphoria-painted face you grace him with when his love overflows your body, teeming into your watery eyes.

Sitting up, he unpacks a thin, white blanket from the opposite edge of the sofa, cocooning you into the clean, fresh fabric. You hum in comfort, struggling to chase the warmth of his arms as he tucks the edges of the material underneath the contour of your body.

”Just stay here for a bit.”, he whispers into your cheek, sending shivers down your spine. “ I‘m almost done with your surprise.”

“You want me to help?” you resort to a last-chance inquiry in hopes of finding an excuse to sit beside him for longer, even in the kitchen.

He knows you’re well-intended, but decides to better value the total credit of his courteous offering.

You will most certainly keep the stakes up and stubbornly get dinner ready for him on the very next occasion you find, so he might as well echo your stubbornness and finish his task alone, meeting great satisfaction in spoiling you with the opportunity your body has given him.

“No te preocupes, (Don't worry.) I’ll manage.”

You dramatically reach for him with your extended arms as he heads towards the kitchen. He throws you a sympathetic smile before resuming his cooking, fully aware that a considerable part of him would have wanted nothing more than to rush back into your arms and spend the rest of the evening smothering you into his warm embrace, play fighting you into submitting to his self-indulgent caresses and kisses.

divider by @cafekitsune

spanish translations by @bookished 🤍(tysm!!)

50% requested by @badbitchhour (ik u wanted a wedding night but my brain short-circuited when i tried to write it, it's still coming tho!!! meanwhile made the very soft and emotional lovemaking part til i get around it and start feeling it)

a/n: don't pick on me for the extremely creative! title i wanted to make shit clear from the start. (clickbaiting)

also smut authors try not to use the same words and phrases for every sex scene without using things like 'wand' and 'shaft' (challenge impossible)

[buckyalpine]

18+ minors dni, that is your warning. Idk how we ended up with this. Some subby vs dom Bucky having wet dreams has such a choke hold on me right now. Apologies in advance, it gets quite feral.

Imagine subby Bucky whining and whimpering into his pillow with his aching cock throbbing against the mattress, cum dribbling from his tip, his hips pressing against the bed to relieve how full his dick feels. He shivers in his sleep as he wets his boxer briefs' and the bed with his load, cuddling into the pillow more because how he feels all sensitive, floating in a hazy bliss. At some point when he does wake up, he feels the warm sticky mess he made and his cheeks are dusted pink thinking about what caused all this in the first place. He should change the sheets and he should hop into the shower but that dream-

He can't help but shove his hand into his briefs, biting his lip to keep his voice down while he tugs at his cock in the privacy of his room, thankful you had no idea how desperate he was for you.

He needs your breasts in his face, something for him to suckle on to keep his voice down when he's balls deep in you. The thought makes him harder and he pulls the waistband of his brief's down to free his cock, stroking faster. Poor baby so badly wants to stop, you're too sweet and here he is acting like such a little pervert but a thick drop of precum drips out and he can't stop now, he needs to get it all out. He wonders if you'd put it in your mouth, fuck if you'd try and take both balls, telling him how good he tastes, how he's such a good boy for holding it, how big and good his dick feels, how you'd touch him so softly and-

"A-angel-y/n-mmph"- his voice melts into a whine as he throws his head back, chest heaving between sweet breathy moans, cum shooting and dripping onto his abs. He's made an even bigger mess than before and he's not sure how he's going to face you after what he's just done but he can't help it, not when it's you.

But then imagine dom Bucky who lets out a muffled groan, his metal arm whirring, fingers tearing the sheets when pleasure out of his control makes his balls full and heavy, his cock growing rock hard. His muscles tense and he ruts into the bed to chase the intense feeling between his legs. "Mmph-fuck" His voice is laced with sleep as his hips stutter, pink lips parted when he moans, cumming all over himself and the bed. Ropes of his spend seem to pour endlessly from his cockhead, his body producing more than enough cum for days. His eyes crack open when the sun pours into his room and he stretches, feeling relaxed and satisfied. He smirks when he remembers that dream, lazily kicking off the sheets and tossing his boxers off so he can think about it again, this time with more control. He's hard in no time, keeping his legs spread while his metal hand cups and rolls his balls, his other working his length up and down.

He thinks about the way you'd suckle on his tip, hissing when he lets his thumb toy with his slit, imaging it being your tongue lapping up the milk he's ready to give you.

"Mm, that's it angel" He groans, giving his balls a tug and rutting his hips up to fuck his fist thinking about how perfect you'd be if you swallowed every single drop, sticking your tongue out after to show him you drank it all.

His mind continues to wonder thinking about what his filthy imagination cooked up last night in his dreams. Your body would look so pretty on full display for him with your legs spread apart so he can put his cock in exactly where it belongs. His eyes roll back at the thought of you whining and whimpering over how his fat dick is stretching you. Bucky really isn't the type to put a lot of thought into his dick size but when it comes to you it makes him feral. He wants to hear those whimpers when you feel his erection press against you if you sat on his lap, to see your eyes widen when he pulls it out, for you tell him it's not gonna fit.

At this point, Bucky doesn't give a fuck that he's moaning shamelessly on his bed with both hands playing and working at his cock and balls. The walls are soundproof anyway. He alternates between closing his eyes and thinking of you and looking at his leaky length, he fucking knows its perfect and so pink and pretty. He just knows you'd want to play with it and kiss it and suck it. God, he wants you to suck it. So bad.

"Suck it angel, c'mon, suck daddy's cock"

He almost wishes you were able to hear him next door. You have him so worked up, his seconds away from shoving his pillow between his legs and humping it till his balls are empty.

"God damn angel, fuck are you doing to me" He murmurs when he gets closer to cumming, thinking about his dream ended up with your legs around his waist, his cum painting the inside of your cunt. His moans grow louder, brows furrowed and jaw slack when the first stream blows from the tip smearing onto his lips. "Holy fuck-fuck-hng-

He's never cum that hard before, moaning loudly again when he lets his hand massage his sensitive and swollen head making sure he drains his balls, getting out every drop.

He's not even mad at the musky salty tastes of himself as he starts to come down from his high, continuing to give himself a few more lazy strokes as he strides over to take a shower. He has training with you later today and he can't wait to make those dreams a reality.

[avocado-writing]

Kinktober #22

22. Deepthroating // Thigh Riding or Fucking // Choking (Logan Howlett x Reader x Wade Wilson)

Logan, to his credit, isn’t saying a goddamn word. Just watching you both, relaxed back into the couch, cigar smouldering slowly in one hand as he spreads his thighs. There’s that half-smirk he lets slip when something is really working for him, eyes dark with desire as you and Wade are at work.

Oh, and how you are at work.

Usually when you and Wade team up you’re able to break down Logan’s walls, twinned smiles and batted lashes crumbling his defences until he’s giving in to your advances. Not that it’s ever anything but consensual, of course, nobody could make Logan do anything he didn’t want to — but he secretly enjoys the game of it as much as the both of you do, of rolling his eyes and falling into bed.

However, this time when you’d both started kissing along his neck, reaching under his shirt, he’d pushed you both away.

“Game’s on,” he’d said, gesturing to the hockey on the TV.

“But honey badger, if we don’t fuck you we’ll die. Can you live with that on your conscience?” Wade had whined. Logan had rolled his eyes and then spread his legs, patting his jean-clad thighs.

“Fine. If the two of you are that desperate, hop on. Just don’t block the screen.”

So, with a twinned look of well I’m up for it if you are, you both had. 

Your cunt is desperately wet as you drag yourself up and down Logan’s thigh. You’re glad that the leggings you put on this morning don’t offer much of a barrier between you and him, your clit catching on the roughness of the fabric and sending a wave of pleasure through you. You shoot a look over to Wade who’s dropped his head to Logan’s shoulder as he thrusts, his cock leaving a damp patch while it’s trapped in his grey sweatpants. The look of it is delicious and though you’re tempted to reach over and touch Wade, you think Logan wants you both concentrated on him. 

And that’s absolutely goddamn fine. 

Logan reaches to the ashtray he’s resting on the sofa to stub out the butt of his cigar, and then you feel warmth at your back as he lays a hand on the base of your spine. He does the same to Wade with his other, holding you both close as you drag yourselves up and down the meat of his thighs. It’s a surprisingly tender gesture compared to the filthiness of what’s happening.

“That’s it,” he rumbles to neither one of you in particular, but the sentiment still eked deep from his chest, sweet and caring. “Take what you need. I’ve got you both.”

“Holy shit, peanut. Have you always been this dirty, just holding out on us…?” mutters Wade as his hips speed up, utterly entranced at the way Logan can be so casual with his filthy mouth. You cling onto his flannel and, when a little whine escapes you, you see Logan grab the remote and turn the volume down so he can hear the symphony you and Wade make even better.

“We’re all yours, Logan,” you whisper, dragging your lips over the shell of his ear. He chuckles and oh, you could hear that sound forever and ever.

“I know, baby, I know. Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[moonstruckme]

Hii

I have a knee injury right now and it's really annoying cause I'm a dancer and I can barely walk right now let alone dance and I really wanted a fic if that's okay. So reader (like me) is really annoyed about her injury and Sirius or James (I don't mind which one) help her. Could you also include something about them piggybacking her up the stairs (cause I cannot go up stairs right now without dying in pain)

Thanks in advance sweets

Thanks for requesting lovely, hope you're feeling better!

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 481 words

James comes into the living room and catches you red-handed with the broom and dustpan. 

He freezes, setting his hands on his hips and releasing a breathless guffaw. “Good lord, you’re tenacious.” 

“I thought,” you wheedle, “that since you’re working so hard mopping the kitchen, I could sweep in here so it’s easier when you’re ready to do this part.” 

“And I thought,” counters James, crossing the space between you in a few long strides, “that we agreed you’d rest and let me handle it.” He makes up for the snark with a quick kiss to the tip of your nose before pushing you down onto the couch by your hips. “Turn over the broom, angel.” 

You sigh, holding it out for him. “Agreed is a bit of a stretch.” 

“Your knee and I seem to be in agreement.” He stamps another conciliatory kiss on your head, firm and ardent. “I can see on your face that it’s hurting you. Just give it a bit, stop pushing yourself so hard.” 

“As if you get to talk,” you snipe after him as he goes back to the kitchen. He’d pulled a muscle in his shoulder a few weeks ago, and he’d still insisted on carrying all your groceries himself and lifting heavy things down from tall shelves like recovery was some sort of competition. 

James pretends not to hear you. 

You sigh, big and loud and dramatic, and you hear his quiet laughter from the kitchen. 

“Sorry,” he calls. “Suck it up. I never do my fair share of the chores anyway.” 

“Will you at least bring me the laundry to fold?” 

A beat, and you hear him swing open the door to where the dryer has just finished. “Sure,” he agrees. 

A minute later, your boyfriend is pouring a basket of warm laundry over you on the couch. You smile contentedly, bathed in warmth and softness, until the warm clothes on your abdomen remind you of another concern.

“Um, James?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I’m sorry.” 

James sets down the laundry basket, dark brows weaving together bemusedly. “What for?” 

“I have to pee.” 

And the toilet is upstairs.

“Oh.” His expression clears. As much as you sort of wish he would treat this part like a chore, he loves doing this for you. “No worries.” 

He turns around and squats down. Doesn’t even give you the opportunity to hop onto his back, only grabs your thighs and straightens back up with a quiet grunt. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, adjusting so you’re wrapped more securely around him. 

As James starts up the stairs, he squeezes one of your thighs teasingly in his big hand. “Hope you weren’t holding it on my account. You know you don’t need to apologize for asking for a lift, I don’t mind.” 

“No, I know,” you admit. “I think you may like it a bit too much, actually.” 

Your boyfriend only hums. “Mayhaps.” 

[soapdispensersalesman]

[mode7rap]

Greed is Good - Wario Rap Tribute

[ericscroptop]

Make You Rock-Hard

✧ pairing: rockstar! sunwoo x fem! reader

✦ genre: smut

✧ warnings: 18+ (minors DNI), mentions of alcohol and drinking, smut, tipsy/intoxicated sex, reader tries to play hard to get and stand up for herself but fails miserably, situationship? unprotected sex (pls wrap it yall…), mirror sex, dirty talk, sunwoo’s hitting it from the back, fingering, praising, pet names, cursing, kissing, marking, flirty sunwoo, hints of jealousy from reader, brief mention of him being a manwhore, some angst

✦ word count: 7.1k words

✧ synopsis: you should’ve known pursing a relationship with a rising rockstar wouldn’t be easy. nonetheless, you can’t stray away.

✦ note: you can view sunwoo in this as a master manipulator/sleeze or a genuinely clueless, but ultimate simp for you— it’s up to the reader’s interpretation ;)

ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚

The raw, bitter taste of the liquid you just downed burns your throat, face grimacing slightly as a result.

Even more so when you don’t have a chaser, or even a lime on standby to counteract the strong taste.

But it’s honestly fitting. On the inside, you’re feeling sour. Pissed that you’ve found yourself here at this night club.

It was jam-packed, filled to the brim with people. They roamed freely around the room with laughter despite the overstimulation from the music booming and having to push past the crowd huddled together like sardines in a can.

Mostly everyone were either already, or on the verge of being wasted from sipping on alcoholic beverages, and/or doing unspeakable substances in the crappy restrooms. You also can’t forget about the stench of weed that clung onto the attire of some. And the clouds in the air every minute or so when people took hits of their flavored vapes despite them being banned in this joint.

That was the typical scene for a place like this, so you shouldn’t be annoyed. If anything, you should be blending into the environment like the rest. But that’s not particularly what’s grinding your gears.

No, what’s irritating you is the fact that you’ve yet again ended up here solely for one man:

Kim Sunwoo.

He’s the reason why you’ve been spiraling almost every day from thinking about him. The reason why you can’t bother to even think about accepting the advances of someone else trying to hit on you, or even consider the thought of being physically involved with another body. Sunwoo is the reason why you keep coming back here.

You first met him months back. During that time, he had just started getting small gigs at local bars and clubs for his band, Crimson Longing, or CL for short.

You liked to go out every now and again for some drinks with your friends, not really for the music, but just to get drunk while hanging out.

And during one of those fateful nights you did such, you encountered him. With his charms, he had convinced the owner to let him debut on a small stage with his other members, Changmin and Juyeon.

Although they were just starting out, their talents shown off instantaneously drew attention. Juyeon on drums, Changmin on bass, and Sunwoo front and center, serving as the lead singer, accompanied with his electric guitar.

It was difficult to not have ones eyes glued to the group. There was this fire inside of them that was exuded through their performances. The energy carried while performing was captivating.

They visibly had a passion for performing and being in the limelight. The talent was there, showing off diverse direction within their performances and music. Although their genre was mostly rock, they did present elements of hip-hop and r&b sprinkled in some of their songs.

Sweat soaked the boys’ clothes and beaded down their foreheads well after every performance. They gave 110% each and every time, their energy infectious, expanding off into the crowd.

On stage, they’d engage with the audience, communicating with the dolled-up girls through flirtatious winks, and shouting out scintillating or cheeky commentary that made the audience howl and raise the roof with noise.

Not only were they skilled on their respective instruments, but they also were easy on the eyes. Dangerously alluring with that combo of gorgeous looks and being talented musicians.

I mean, who wouldn’t be attracted to or fall for these young guys in a band? Their styling consisted of dark, edgy attire and loads of accessories. They definitely looked the part of hot rockstars.

The clothing they wore corresponded with their cunning and chiseled faces. Their appearances stood out as intimidating with seductive undertones— especially their lead singer. He seemed like a mischievous-looking fucker.

Surprisingly enough, you ended up catching his eye.

Well… it shouldn’t have been surprising considering how much of an effortless charmer he was towards the girls up front that would bat their lashes, all provocative, and go as far as to shamelessly throw their bras on stage.

Whether or not he actually collected groupies and sought out for mindless fun with starving strangers, or was just a major tease remained a mystery to you to this day. Regardless, he fed into the attention he received with ease, even if he was just playing a role to the public.

From your very first glance and initial impression of him, you figured he was a man-whore. You have an idea of what the spotlight does to people’s ego, and no guy that looks like that is bound to be very ‘boy next door’ if you will.

Even so, you were no different than any other girl that got an ounce of attention from him. After countless games of eye tag, he eventually invited you back stage.

Your curiosity got the better of you, and although you were wary of him, your conscience advised you to fuck around and find out.

He complimented you, filled your ears with lines you wanted to roll your eyes at because you bet he has used them on other girls. Though, your cheeks and core flushed from the flattery otherwise.

You strived to remain nonchalant and not seem easy to his obvious advances, but he was a sweet talker. A very good one at that. You fell victim to his charisma, letting him butter you up and eventually have a taste of you.

The confirmation on whether or not he had his fun with other girls and just anyone was never clear. Nonetheless, you let him hit every time you attended one of his gigs. His efforts to woo and beguile you worked in his favor.

One night with you simply wasn’t enough. He found himself searching for your presence in the crowds. Suddenly you inhabited a spot in his head, and the songs and music he was performing were fueled with even more passion and enthusiasm because of you.

You were a wonderful fuck to him. Constantly being tantalized by the image of you, whether you were standing right in front of him, yards away, or even in your absence.

The demeanor you possessed was intriguing. He needed you to keep coming back for more of him. He needed you to make his nights and rock your world the way your beautiful ass deserved.

There was never a proper establishment or any communication regarding what this relationship meant, or was. You simply attended the clubs to watch him perform and end the night with hot and sweaty sex as often as you could.

You bit your tongue when it came to your second guessing or feelings that weren’t sexual. And you still persisted seeking out for him, never getting enough of him.

While everyone reeked of a little too much cologne and the devil’s lettuce, you reeked of desperation.

There was practically no contact outside his gigs, so you really only saw him in the dark, stuffy, and crammed place(s) where he delivered exhilarating shows. Followed by meeting you backstage in his room to have your own private and special show, his adrenaline pumping miles a many.

But as time went on, you grew exhausted.

Exhausted from coming to see him just for sex, no matter how delicious the dynamic was during it. Exhausted that you did all this for a boy who doesn’t bother to make efforts to see you outside backstage rooms. Exhausted that Kim Sunwoo roamed your mind day and night, driving you bonkers because he was too beautiful, dreamy, talented…

But it seemed like he didn’t care for you in the outside world.

You wanted more. Of course you fell hard for him. It doesn’t help that lately Crimson Longing is getting loads of gigs out of town, in various cities far, far away. News outlets reported that they’re being granted a ticket to a record deal.

Chances of them going global were going to skyrocket. He’s too invested into his career. You’re not blaming him. He’s got a real kick for music, and deserves all the success.

It’s hurting your heart, though. And you can’t go on with this chase that led to nothing but temporary thrill and emptiness when not around him. It feels degrading.

An end needs to be put to this. How could you be an idiot, letting this drag on for as long as it has?

That’s why you’re here. Another shot gets downed by you, alcohol coursing through your veins, hopefully giving you strength to survive the night.

Everything then happens so fast: The lights dim, music from the DJ fades out and ceases, noise simmering down to where only hushed voices were heard.

Once the instruments of the anticipated group were audible, the crowd bustled in shouts and cheers that only grew thunderous when the spotlight shined on the three boys of Crimson Longing.

From that point on you sorta blacked out. You weren’t near the front, but your view of the band was still decent.

The hyped-screams drowned out in your head from how the band swooped your attention. Yes, their songs and skill were engrossing, but that damn Kim Sunwoo took your breath away.

He managed to pull you into a trance. His airy, cool-toned, raspy voice alone was enough to trigger your senses, your brain flashing memories of past-conversations and sexual encounters.

That gorgeous human being knew all of your sweet spots— where you liked to be kissed, and used just the right amount of pressure with his hands, lips, and hips. It was only natural for you to keep coming back for more when he had a masters degree in fucking. How could you not get flashbacks?

He’s the male equivalent of a siren. He lured you in thanks to all of his smashing qualities. You were left hypnotized, steered into his direction, losing all good senses that tried to advise you that maybe fucking around with a rockstar wouldn’t be good for your heart.

Especially now as you know how it feels to have him inside of you, molding into you almost perfectly and providing you orgasmic sensations that were indescribable and unmatched. You got too comfortable. That dick of his has been good to you.

But it was never enough, it never was. Irritation and anger hits you when you think about the gaps and the silence he’s left you to fill. Was it really all worth it for one good night every once in a while?

You were drowning. He inevitably seduced you. Feelings on your part started becoming too much, Kim Sunwoo drowning any other thought you could possibly have.

All over one man.

“Shittttt, the crowd’s on fire tonight! You guys are getting us rock-hard.” Sunwoo’s words into the mic steals your attention. He tantalizingly grabs his crotch, smirking with a raise of a brow. Of course, the crowd only becomes louder.

That just pissed you off even more. How could you be so dumb to rage inside in jealously for him doing his job? He had an audience to please and rile up. The assets he possessed were an advantage to him. Who wouldn’t drop their panties or bark for some attention from a young, handsome rockstar?

Typically someone in his position wouldn’t be tied down to one person. But he had that claim on you. An imaginary string ties and pulls you to him, stuck on him unless you give yourself the strength to cut it off. It’ll only bother you if you let it.

This situationship is consuming you when it didn’t feel, nor was real apart from the physical aspect.

You had to cut him off.

———————————————————————————

Their set lasted a little over an hour. Crazy how you’d stick around just for Sunwoo. But at least their music actually was good, and you may have had one or two more drinks to pass time.

As already expected, one of Crimson Longing’s staff members found you and escorted you to the back. This became a routine whenever you’d attend their local shows. You’d walk down the familiar path to Sunwoo’s dressing room, stares of other locals eyeing you with jealousy and curiosity, whispering gossip regarding your relationship with the band.

Up to a certain degree, it did make you feel special. But was it really so gratifying to be basically used and feel degraded? As well as perceived as a slut or threat by the regulars? (They would never have the balls to say it to your face, though.)

The bustle of the club continued and music muffled the closer to his room you got. The effects of the alcohol were getting to you. There’s luckily no anxiety, but your body and mind feels numb and fuzzy, coordination growing weak.

Once you arrive to his room, the staff leaves you to it. You silently thank him and don’t even bother knocking, inviting yourself in with ease.

In that room lies Sunwoo reclined in a chair, glass of what you presume to be alcohol in one hand while a rag is dabbing the back of his neck in the other.

The intrusion prompts him to look up, smirking when he sees your form.

“There’s my baby. Come here.”

It’s irritating how the cadence of his voice, the pet-name, and viewing him in the flesh for the first time in awhile strikes lightning to your core. You were weak when it came to him.

Shutting the door, you’re left separated from the outside world with him. With a serious look, you approach him closer.

He smiles and lets out a small laugh once you’re directly in front of him. Shamelessly, his eyes rake over the length of your body. A black leather jacket kept your arms covered while your slip-on mini dress of the same color exposed your legs. That paired with the stunning makeup on your gorgeous face was a sight for sore eyes.

“Look at you, all dolled-up.” he nods, man spreading and bringing his glass towards his mouth, taking a generous sip.

Your expression remained dull while he looked so smug. He’s so annoying, but clearly not enough when your gaze lowers front and center at his crotch. The leather material of his pants caging your favorite toy looks too appealing. Your eyes don’t rest there for long, but Sunwoo of course saw where your pupils followed, making you feel pathetic and predictable.

It’s sweltering in here, you think to yourself. He still appears smug, and moves his now-empty glass and sweaty rag over to the table by his side. Like the needy-flirt he is, he rubs both hands over his thighs and pats them, gesturing for you to come and sit over him.

You really wanted to stand on business, but with the alcohol ingested, it’s lowering your inhibitions. You truly did miss his touch, and craved long for his physical affection.

That smirk of his was stupid and gave you the urge to slap it right off, but it was also infectious. It had you pursing your lips to withstand letting your lip corners curl.

Like the weakling you are, there you go inching towards him. You sat your behind and weight over one of his thighs, legs draping over his other. Like clockwork, your arms hooked around his neck to ensure security.

A hand of his moves to the small of your back, while the other rests over your thigh. He looks pleased, bouncing his leg a few times, pupils blown and thirsty for your attention. His dark eyes study your face like you’re a work of art, in awe to have gotten his hands on you.

That’s one thing about Sunwoo you do treasure. His ability to make it seem like you’re the only girl worthy of his time.

“Liked the show?” he murmurs. His low voice and full lips irresistible to you, making you choke back a whimper.

The tension’s unbearable to fight; your body already betrayed you. It’s almost embarrassing how quickly your lips finally end up on his.

The makeout is passionate. Sunwoo does no attempt to hide his heavy breaths just from kissing, and your fingers tangled through his damp hair, too caught up in the taste of one another after being distant.

The different liquors you each have consumed tonight are exchanged through the wet kisses. If you weren’t already intoxicated enough, you definitely were now. Your senses were being overly stirred right now. The alcohol’s left you dehydrated, but Sunwoo is reviving you again.

“Was thinking ‘bout you the whole time.” he breathes out in between the zealous lip-locking.

While multiple factors are causing your mind and body to stupefy, you do indeed process what he has said.

Hilarious.

So comical that you bitterly laugh, separating your lips from his.

Sunwoo merely hums and raises his brows in levity, assuming you laughed from how funny the alcohol’s got you feeling.

“Don’t play with my feelings, baby girl.” he teasingly whines.

Wow. How ironic!

It doesn’t click that that’s not the case until he gravitates towards your soft appendage for more, surprised when you dodge another round of kisses. Genuine confusion floods his features, and you’re avoiding eye contact now, frowning.

“What’s up?” he questions now that the mood’s changed.

Your throat feels parched, straining to vomit out all the feelings you have about this whole situationship out of you. You’ve pondered day and night for awhile now about all the things you’ve wanted to say to him face-to-face, to perhaps truly end it all. But right now, you can’t.

“You can talk to me.” he utters barely above a whisper.

You really don’t want to kill your buzz right now. He looks so sweet and actually attentive, but one sweet moment can not possibly make up for the hollowness in your heart and question marks in your mind when he’s not with you. There’s got to be more for you outside of a very passionate but quick fuck every once in awhile.

“You know… if you really missed me, you’d actually make an effort to see me outside of these four walls.” you broke your silence.

He frowns a little at that, taken aback by your confession.

“If you’re just using me for quick fucks, go ‘head and tell me now. I’m a big girl, I can handle it, superstar.” you spat out, cheeks growing hot from the harsh words, angered to have allowed a boy to get in your head this bad.

He stares at you dumbly, lips parted slightly like he’s processing what you’re saying— or trying to come up with some good excuse.

You realize you really shouldn’t have even came here or given him the time of day, so you attempt to get off him, but he just holds you tighter and pulls you back down into him.

“Let me go!” you snapped at him, but respectfully, Sunwoo wasn’t going to let you go that easily.

“Hey— hey…” he calls to you, your expression exasperated. Unable to escape his hold, you at least turn you peeved face away from his own. But of course, he reaches out to carefully cup your jaw, directing your gaze back on him.

“You’re not just a quick fuck, baby.” he breathes out.

“Look, I’m sorry that i’ve been distant and haven’t shown you proper respect and love. I’ve been so busy— but that’s no excuse. I know that.”

His eyes appear to carry sincerity, but you’re still full of annoyance, as this wasn’t going to be solved right away.

“I know we never clarified whatever the fuck this is, but I don’t think I can do this anymore. I don’t do casual. I shouldn’t have messed around with you in the first place.” your eyes grew glossy from the hot tears stinging to rain down. God, this was so embarrassing.

Sunwoo bites his lip, eyebrows slanting slightly in seeing you like this. “No— I want you. Don’t say that.” he pleads gravely.

“There’s a ton of other girls out there that are waiting to fuck you. Go shoot your shot with one of them.” you grumbled.

With that, you forcefully escape his arms, aggressively pushing off him and standing up. Unfortunately, you’re only able to get a few steps away before Sunwoo also gets up to speed in front of you.

Shock is filling your face initially when he drops his knees to the ground, now having to look down to meet his eyes. He’s dropped to this vulnerable position, demonstrating his desperation to keep you here with him. He wasn’t going to let you go so easily like that. He’s too hooked to let you walk out of his life.

“Sunwoo, get your ass up— don’t do that.” you scoffed with a frown. You didn’t want him to make this harder for yourself.

Though, seeing him get on the ground so abruptly, now looking up at you with big, glassy-looking eyes, pinched at your heart. Him in this position was a complete 180 from the confident and tough exterior he presented otherwise.

“I don’t and won’t touch anyone that isn’t you. You gotta believe me, baby girl.” he voices, feeling feeble in the moment but tone strong and laced with urgency.

There’s still doubt inside you even with his words, your throat tight and starting to gnaw on your lip to keep your sensitive ass under control.

“I’m sorry that I’ve been too caught up in my lifestyle to not do more for you. Fuck— I do care about you. Please don’t leave me— please…” his voice cracks, pleading for the life of him.

A hot tear or two manages to spill past your eye. The hurt tone in his voice and rawness of this scene is tugging at your heart, slowly cracking the icy coldness of the front you’re trying to uphold and have felt through the silence while apart.

His remorseful eyes continue to stare at you, visibly distressed and waiting for any sound from you. After a rousing performance, here he is unexpectedly on his knees, wishing that you wouldn’t walk away.

You’re not sure if he really gave a shit about you or was just this desperate for your pussy specifically, but the current sight of him like this might be enough to ultimately end the conversation of his behavior here.

You’re melting for this unforeseen vulnerability. Of course you’d not allow the radio silence and confusion you were left with to be forgotten, nor believe your feelings were not valid. But something about this side of him is making you think you should give him some grace.

Maybe you should reconsider being hasty about this. You were sorta drunk and although you weren’t sober, you’d like to think that you’re self aware and conscious of the decisions you make. You’re glad you just got some of those pent up feelings released, and now you need to do it via another outlet.

“I’m really sorry, I promise I’ll do better from—”

“I’m not going anywhere, but I will shove you if you don’t get up, boy.” you cut him off with a strict tone, leaving him wide-eyed at your words, not delaying in getting on his feet once he’s processed your threat.

He looks hopeful when he’s up, exchanging stares that carry uncertainty for what should happen next.

There is certitude that you each wanna fall into the established drill of allowing your bodies to talk through fiery sex. Especially while the liquor dispersed through your systems.

Neither of you dare say a word for a moment, until you can’t take it anymore and break that silence by stepping forward and extending an arm out to grab hold of the choker he wears, tugging at the material even if it’s too tight and yanking him towards your mouth.

He lets free a strangled gasp and whimper while he stumbles a bit as you guide him to you. You don’t waste more time further and push his plush lips against yours.

Breathlessly, he kisses you with no hesitance, devouring you with just as much urgency as you pucker with. Your hand that pulled at his leather choker snakes back and upwards into his nape, fingers mindlessly swirling and twisting his locks.

Teeth clash in between the frantic kissing, noses bumping together, breaths and hearts racing from the great need of sultry contact.

His hands dance all over your body, fumbling as he’s too caught up in chasing your lips and incapable of keeping them in one spot. They roam freely all over your silhouette and physical features, relishing every bit of you.

Actions are speaking loudly, exchanging lust for one another just through making out. Extra desperate after your confrontation and his newfound sensitive side that you’ve unlocked.

It’s almost as if you two are dehydrated. Not only from the liquor, but mostly from the absence of one another.

You bite, drink up, and swallow the taste of his mouth— tongues colliding, saliva exchanging, and teeth nibbling. At the speed and sloppy rate you’re moving, you two appear as a horny mess.

But you needed him. Caving to the pleasure and sweet, sweet attention Sunwoo could grace you with. Only he was capable of satisfying your needs and wants.

And he was just as addicted to you.

The kisses alone had you moaning, more so when his mouth began trailing away from your lips down to your neck. His lips cherishing and sucking one of your most-sensitive spots has prolonged, breathy sounds leap out of your mouth.

It’s body-shivering, those wet kisses turning your mind into static as he sucks intently until he’s left a mark that’d turn dark reddish-purple.

You didn’t even care, fingers tightening around his strands of hair and digging into his back, too consumed in the sensation, crumbling and aching for him to not let up.

That voice from earlier shouting doubts is too far away in the back of your mind. Now, all that enthralled you was those notorious moves of his, growing wet. You can’t refuse his luscious attention, softening and relaxing for him with open arms and drowning out any possible coherent thought you could have.

“There’s alot I need to make up for, but lemme do the easiest thing right now, hm?” he voices as he finishes leaving one of his marks, earning a whiny hum out of you.

So then you’re quickly pushed into a vanity, your backside facing fiery heat from his frontside. The neck kisses and fondling of your body doesn’t stop as he simultaneously with ease begins to remove all articles of clothing.

The sound of desperate breaths mingles with one another’s layers being pawed off and flung aside.

You meet one another’s eyes through the mirror once every piece of clothing has been discarded, skin on skin contact with him pressed up against your back, rock-hard cock glutted with excitement.

Both of his veiny hands settle over your breasts, balancing them and groping the flesh. You bite down gently on your lower lip, hairs on your skin raising and thighs squeezing together when his fingers roll your sensitive and undeniably tender nipples.

You softly moan, his movements natural yet stimulating, especially with how you have a clear view of the scene thanks to the mirror in front.

It has you shutting your eyes to bask in how he felt you up, but only for a split second before he suddenly tugs and pinches with a firm pressure, making you immediately open them, mewling and pouting at him through the reflection.

“Hey.” his warn comes out low but strong, sending a whirlwind-like sensation towards your core.

“Keep ‘em open for me. Wanna see those eyes when you take my cock.” he rasps, hands switching from your mounds to your hips, holding and rubbing along your sides like a trophy. He keeps his eyes on the prize that is your body, no intent to remove his sight on you, compelled that he gets to have you like this: Fully naked in all your glory, determined to fuck you like you deserve, and treasure you like he should.

“Put it in, woo. Please, baby.” you pleaded, your eyes and pussy full of ache, ravenous to be stuffed and banged by his cock.

Teasing and being a cheeky shit was one of his favorite hobbies, but he thinks he’ll have to move on quick with the foreplay, for he is also itching to fuck you.

His lips dip towards the side of your neck, licking your sensitive skin before pressing a generous kiss into the spot.

“Yes ma’am.” he affirms, simpering as he backs up just a bit to grab hold of his cock, running his fist along it to warm it up for you, evenly distributing viscous fluid that is already sitting pretty over his tip.

Normally you’d scoff followed by giving him a playful shove whenever he’d call you that, but he doesn’t allow any moment for that, slapping his dick up against your entrance.

That raises a squeal out of you, mouth gaping and body sizzling just from the outside contact of his manhood.

From that moment on, your body is on fire with lust. He drags his cock head over your folds, and then finally slides it past your slit.

“God!” you cried out from the anticipated-missed feeling. There is a mixture of the intensity from the slight pressure that came with the initial stretch and impact of your hole becoming jammed with his hard length.

“Not my name but close enough.” he titters, moving a hand to your lower tummy and patting it gently once he’s fully inside you.

Once again, you’d like to smack him for his response, but the beginning movement of his cock in-and-out past your walls knocks the wind out of you.

Your mind is blurred, not a single proper thought able to be formed when you’re becoming consumed in the feeling of your pussy so full and gorged.

Your walls greedily sucked him in, pleased with his entrance into you. Even though it’s embarrassing to admit, you were too attached to him.

Nothing beats having Sunwoo’s cock drilling you to climax, his broad frame up against you, his heavy grunts and breaths that emphasized how worked up he gets over having sex with you.

“Who’s that pretty girl, huh?” he voices breathily, nodding at the mirror, gesturing at the reflection of your figure. Your breasts bounce with every thrust, lips parted and growing close to drooling like a fool from how good he’s hitting it.

You don’t even think he was looking for an answer from you, but you should know better by now.

Suddenly he strokes into you with extra emphasis, lifting his hand from your abdomen to get a grip on your chin, making you squeal.

“Answer me, hm?” he grunts, hand still holding your face firmly. Your eyes are hazy, growing moist from how beyond turned on you are.

You look at yourself in the mirror with vulgarity, entranced especially when he slides his thumb over your lower lip, playing with the appendage by tweaking and strumming it, even going as far as to trace the outline of your bottom teeth.

“Hm?” he sounds out again, growing impatient.

“Me! it’s fucking m—me!” you moaned, eyes practically rolling back. Sunwoo was too fucking good at making sex incredible, feeling so sexy in your body and in this position.

“My good girl.” he praises lowly, letting go of your face and attaching both of his hands to your hips,

You’re growing weak, knees buckling as he knocks the sense out of you from behind. Losing your breath as he’s relentless with his pace.

You let yourself rest your elbows on the vanity for support, now bent over.

There’s no complaint from him. The change gives him a crystal clear view of your entire backside.

He grips your hips extra mean; the view of your body at this angle and the clapping of your cheeks charges the animal inside of him.

“Mine.” he growls, obsessed with the way your hot walls cling onto him during his out strokes, and the whiny, puffing noises that never cease.

There had to be something to slow down and interrupt your buzz though, as the startling noise of a phone going off joins your lewd sounds.

After a few seconds, it registers to you both that it’s coming from Sunwoo’s phone, but he refuses to acknowledge it, too immersed in chasing one another’s high.

However, you cannot ignore the pesky repetition of his ringtone that is killing the vibe and makes you anxious as it’s on-going.

“Sunwoo, just answer it. It may be important.” you sigh out with distress.

His thrusts let up and then cease, copying your sigh and then pulling his aching cock out of you.

“Fuck.” he groans, all frustrated as he jogs lightly to go pick up his disruptive device that’s sitting on a glass table— he really needs to keep it on silent.

Meanwhile, you pull yourself back up, puffing out some air, looking at your state, almost snapping out of your carnal mood.

Almost.

“What?” he bites out, clearly irritated.

You figure out quickly that it’s one of his band mates.

He moves back over to the vanity with phone up to ear, making you follow his movements through the mirror.

“I’m kinda busy, y’know?” he voices to the other end, startling you (even though you saw him coming) when he presses his front against your back.

From that point, you can’t even care or pick up on whatever the conversation may be about. Not with how Sunwoo’s still-hard cock digs against your lower back, not able to behave while on call and sliding his free hand around your front.

You attempt to give him a warning look through the mirror, but he just has a wolfish grin plastered, hand lowering until it reached your abandoned cunt.

He finds your clit while speaking to whomever. Your body quivers as he teases it by tapping it at first, then begins to use two fingers to rub at your delicate bud— all while he’s chatting it up over voice call.

If you thought this was naughty as is, Sunwoo decides to apply more pressure to his ministrations, making you lean back into one of his shoulders, growing feeble from his persistent playing while simultaneously trying to keep quiet in hopes that his band mate on the other end doesn’t hear a single smutty peep.

It only gets (yummier) worse for you when he pushes those fingers past your wet folds, holding your breath and clutching the edge of the vanity table to suppress the gasp that would follow under normal circumstances.

You wanted to curse him out so bad for being indecent and audacious enough to play with your pussy while being on the phone, incapable of keeping his hands to himself.

But your body always responded cordially to him. Your pussy dripped and squeezed for him. Your heart thumped to where you could practically hear it, and you fell into a state of bliss, palpitating and growing faint as he treated your body lavishly, making you feel wanted and most importantly: gratification.

His fingers dug into you, diligently swirling them and hitting the walls of your moist canal.

It’s so sick how he’s finger-fucking you now while on the phone, keeping conversation while he without issue entertains you both with diving his fingers into your sacred spot.

You’re growing flushed as he chuckles lightly at something that was said on the other line, winking at you through the reflection when you look at him with creased brows and a silent, wide mouth.

“Nah, man, don’t wait up on me. I already got plans; I’m bringing my girl to my place tonight.”

Those words come down on you and fill you with wonder and immense euphoria. Like a dog when they hear the rustle from a chip bag. Like a kid entering a candy store.

You tried to hide the kick you get out of hearing that he’s going to bring you to his place for the first time ever by biting down on your lip to prevent a dreamy smile or eager whimper.

You couldn’t control your body, though. Once those words were processed, your pussy throbbed and clenched his digits excitedly.

He continued sliding them in and out of you, a curse word slipping past his lips as your hot cunt swallows his fingers. Fuck, you responded so well to him.

He’s leading you closer and closer to your core snapping that it doesn’t even click to you when he ends the call until the loud thud of his phone hitting somewhere random in the room gets you to jolt.

“So, that made my baby happy? Yeah?” he teases, referring to the reaction you gave his fingers.

He smirks as he continues to drive his fingers into you, curling them with a slight but noticeable increase in speed, adding the zapping sensation of thumbing at your clit to fuck with you further.

You respond with breathy mewls, letting your noises free of constraint now that he’s got all of his attention back on you, no one else listening anymore.

The squelching of his digits swimming in and out your wetness and the way he’s tickling and brushing those sensitive spots makes it hard for you to keep your eyes open, breaths uneven as you’re unable to deal with the heaviness inside your core, relief approaching.

You know for a fact Sunwoo knows when you’re ready to cum, so it pisses you off when he decides to pull out and cease his ministrations, walls going from clenching around his fingers to nothing, already missing the feeling.

“Hmphhh! I was getting close!” you whined with your head thrown back, voice trembling, almost to the brink of tears. Your poor body and mind couldn’t take this. How could he be so annoying?

You feel like this is a game to him. He got off on seeing how worked up and fussy you’d get when he deprived or teased you until you were begging or scolding him. It showed him that you really did enjoy his touches and presence.

He tsks at you, calming you down by inserting those lathered fingers of his into your mouth, making you hum at the sudden invasion.

“I know, I know.” he coos, your eyes shining with hunger and want. You taste yourself on his fingers, purring at the act, but still aching as your cunt rages in jealousy from being abandoned.

Thankfully, he always delivers and fulfills your desires in the end. In the blink of an eye, his fingers are pulled from your mouth and he grabs his cock, shoving it back inside your warm, swollen pussy.

“Sunwoo!” you cried out as he squeezes his thick length past your folds once again, making you bend over like you were earlier.

“Yeah, baby? I’m right here.” he voices, leaning down and over your back, pressing a tender kiss to your shoulder before raising back up and attaching his hands to either side of your hips.

And then resumed the physical exertion of slamming his cock into you, sliding in out of your juicy hole like there’s no tomorrow.

Moan after moan was drove out your mouth from his steady rhythm. His stroking is utterly heavenly as he hits your spongy spot over and over again, some thrusts done with extra strength than the last.

He grasps at your hips and pulls himself into you repeatedly, his own breaths rough and heavy, ascending off the hotspot that encloses his cock, both of you wet with fluids and pre cum, too thrilled out.

The penetration of his dick has your hole crammed with fullness of meaty length, all from the guy who makes you go nuts, but ultimately has your senses swooning and letting him grant you pleasure that’s intoxicating.

“You’ll cum for me, right?” Sunwoo growls, still fucking you with passion.

Your muscles spasm, everything beginning to tighten up. It’s like your nerves are on fire, and you feel this heaviness that needs to unleash.

His cock ridges slide back and forth, poking and hitting your pussy repeatedly until he makes you break, tension growing, and clenching as the peak was so close that you could practically taste it on your tongue.

“Cum, let go for me.” he rasps.

And with that, you do. Your core snaps and you melt into relief, twitching as your release pops and coats his cock, moaning breathlessly throughout the come down.

Sunwoo still pushes through his orgasm despite the way you grip his cock so fucking tight. Your orgasm and reactions has him grunting curse words, being the cherry on top to lead him to his own orgasm as well.

Your body is basically limp as he still pounds into you from behind, muscles spasming involuntarily.

His painfully-hard cock is so bloated, bullying your pussy how you both like, but you don’t know how much more your body can handle, way-past sensitive since you already came.

“Sun—Sunwoo! I can’t…” you weakly whimpered.

You know he needed to cum, and wanted him to. But god, was your pussy beat. Your eyes were tearing up from him finishing up his business.

“Yes you can, baby. Mhm— almost there.” he voices brokenly, his hips stuttering, jerking into your dripping cunt.

A couple more thrusts and he’s spurting out his cum, pulsating and growling as his sack empties out, perspiration all over his body.

He carefully drapes his body over yours on the vanity desk, loud heart beats and burnt out bodies clashing together.

His weight on top of you lowkey crushes you, but you can’t seem to care enough.

After a minute or so of just breathing, he brushes his lips over the shell of your ear, kissing your lobe before whispering lowly into it.

“I meant what I said on the phone by the way.”

Your heart that was on track to revert back to normal beats, picks up pace again at the mention of that, breaths shaky.

“Come home with me, baby girl.”

God, look at how the night’s ending; not what you had originally planned.

You thought it was finally time to leave him. Attempt at forgetting and moving on. But he found his way inside you again, and you truly believe he’d treat you better from now on, knowing what’s on the line and knowing what he has the possibility of losing.

So… you think you will go home with him.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚

[hanasnx]

" THINK I NEED SOMEONE OLDER " — garrus vakarian.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ WARNINGS: fem reader | sexual content | age gap | making out | grinding | size difference | overpowering.

DILF!GARRUS VAKARIAN who thought the basis of human attraction depended on youth. Imagine his surprise when you not only couldn't stop staring at his aging body like he was a fully equipped armory before a mission, but you showed genuine interest at the prospect of his superior amount of experience.

Here you are, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, fresh from hopping ship to ship serving with your parents until you were brave enough to go at it on your own. Now you follow him around like a lost puppy, constantly questioning his motives just to hear him talk, asking him to explain a calculation over and over again. He notices how you squirm when he talks down to you, so to speak. He's positive you're not incapable, but he's not going to refuse a request from so eager a learner. Even if you're not going to learn how to do advanced calculus, he tells himself it's still valuable to hear it. Even if you demonstrate how little you're listening when you chew on the end of your pen at him, and bat your long lashes. Nod slowly through hooded eyes, letting them generously trail down his figure in his suit.

It's enough to make him trail off, clear his throat, adjust his neckline as he glances away to break the tension he's inadvertently fanning. "Run along now." he sometimes tells you so you'll get away from him, so he'll have some room to breathe, so he's not constantly reminded of what a low-life he is when he's around you. Instead, that phrase sends you crazy, biting your lip at him over your shoulder as you sway out of the room.

"Bye-bye, Vakarian~" you purr, and scamper off.

Garrus feels shame when he lets you win. He's supposed to be older, know better, protect someone like you. But when you're clinging onto him, inclining him down to your soft lips, he can't imagine being anywhere else. Tucked away in some dark corner of the Normandy, you guide his hands to touch your young body through your clothes, riding up the material so his touch sets what little it grazes ablaze. After months of dancing around each other, finally you're granted a little relief. And his face burns hot from the contact however brief.

"I'm... I'm not... usually like this.." Garrus confesses, breathless, heart racing. The possibility of you two being caught together, tangled in embrace in a precarious location... there'd be no way to talk his way out of it. Everyone would think of him as some Turian predator, can't get a date unless it's with a girl half his age. And he's not beating the allegations as his claws dig into pliant flesh, drawing you closer to press your hips into his. As if gravitating towards your sex, heavenly bodies bump clumsily as you reconnect with his mouth. Apparently, you're not interested in hearing his protests, claiming he's not "usually" like anything, because right now he's showing you how much he very much is like this. His grip on you is not one of a Turian with doubts.

You've never kissed his species before, and at first his mandibles were hard to get used to—and it felt like he wasn't used to it either—but once you realized he's much more relaxed with his tongue, everything else fell into place. His lack of lips is an obstacle to kissing, but irrelevant when making out. Meeting in the middle, that tongue is long in reach and eager in attitude, coiling around yours in a way a human's would never be capable of. Reptilian in nature, his sulcus is defined, allowing his muscle to fold in on itself, elongating to the thinner apex.

Your palm that cups his face, draws down so your fingertips dance along the grooves of his scarring, coming to trace the line of his mandible. As long as you've known him, you've never gotten this close, and when he massages your tongue with his deft one, an embarrassing whimper emits from your parted lips. Instinctively, you rear your head to break the kiss—if you can even call it that. But Garrus is unyielding. A strong arm around your waist arches you into him, as if possessive over this act you've introducing him to. Confirming your suspicions with an annoyed growl and his tongue venturing further into your mouth, a wave of pleasant tingles washing up from core in response to such behavior. Your knees are weak, held up by his overpowering strength as he takes what he wants.

Playfully, you scold him by banging your fist against his chest piece. He retracts an inch, and you're allowed a second to breathe even if you're crushed against him. Panting through your grin, you nuzzle him with the tip of your nose, and he speaks against your lips. "You were trying to run away from me." he muses, curling his frame around you so it's truly inescapable. "I like that little sound you made." his mouth grazes yours as he talks into you, recycling air, "Make it again."

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Just Friends: Confession

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes

masterlist

Summary: you can't get away from your fallout with Bucky.

It’s giving

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You continue past the cars and down the vacant road. The edges are trimmed with gravel and faded grass. You refuse to look back as you hug your pie, the tine of butter safely nestled in your purse. You can’t believe this. Not just him, but yourself. 

You are so mad. You don’t yell. You don’t do this. Yet here you are marching off impulsively to who knows where. 

You hear tires and a whirring engine. You might be able to hitchhike, though you think that went out of style in the 70s. Also, is it preferable to Bucky? 

“Dreamy,” Bucky slows, an arm hooked through the open driver’s window, “stop. Please, get it. I’ll take you home.” 

“No,” you snap. 

“Come on. You know you won’t make it that far. We can talk--” 

“I told you, I’m done talking,” you try futilely to outpace the tires. “Go away.” 

“You know I can’t do that,” he sighs. “It’s cold and it’s only going to get colder. And that dress isn’t going to do much for you--” 

“Stop telling me what to do!” You sneer. “Alright? Just leave me alone.” 

“This is stupid,” he says. 

“Then I’m stupid. I’m good with that,” you roll your eyes. 

“You know that’s not what I mean. It’s dangerous. You’re going to get lost--” 

“I wish you would,” you huff. 

“Alright,” he veers towards you and blocks you with the front of his car, stopping at an angle so you have no other choice but to hop into a ditch to get away. You just stand there, glaring as he gets out. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were so upset about the date. I just... I should’ve tried, you’re right. And I was a butt.” 

He shakes his head and looks away, hands on his hips, “but I didn’t. And I couldn’t make myself do that.” 

“Oh, so you were deliberately horrible?” You accuse. 

“No, but yes,” he looks at you with a furrow in his forehead. He takes a deep breath and gulps. He pushes his shoulders up and tilts his head. “Dreamy, can we talk in the car? Please?” 

“Say whatever you need to say,” you growl. 

His cheeks dimple as he frowns, “why are you being so damn stubborn?” 

“Stupid, stubborn, why am I even your friend?” 

“I didn’t say--” 

“You did--” 

“But I didn’t mean--” 

“Well, it’s true.” You retort. 

“Dreamy, goddamnit, just listen,” he grits out, “alright? I’m tryna say something to you.” You flinch as he steps closer and puts his hands on your shoulders. You tense but don’t pull away. “I... I don’t know how to tell you. I wanted to before—Jesus, even now I can’t get it fucking out.” 

You’re taken aback by his frustration and his profanity. His eyes gleam intensely as he squeezes your shoulders tighter. He searches your face as his dark lashes flutter. 

“Dreamy...” he murmurs. 

You have no time to react. He’s leaning in and then you’re smothered by him. His beard tickles and scratches against you as his tongue flicks between your lips. You squeak and drop the pie. You push against his chest in shock and rip your mouth away. 

“Bucky!?” You exclaim. “Why--” 

“Dreamy,” he rasps, his face pale with shock and disappointment. “I’m in love with you--” 

“No! No, you’re not,” you shove on his chest as he tries to lean in again. “Because we’re friends. You love me like a friend--” 

“No, dreamy,” he grabs your wrists. “Not like that.” 

“No, Bucky, please, I just wanted a friend,” you pout. 

He winces, “but you got more. Isn’t that good?” 

Your heart races. You stare up at him. You never thought of him like that. Never even considered it. You’re poor, you’re insecure, you’re lost, you can’t do a relationship. You’re not looking for that. Not yet. 

“Bucky,” you give a pained grimace, “I’m flattered but I think we’re in very different places in our lives--” 

“No, don’t give me that cliche bullshit,” he hisses, keeping hold of your wrists. “Dreamy, tell me you ever felt this way with anyone else.” 

“You’re my friend,” you repeat. 

“No, no,” he snarls, “no. I see it. The way you smile at me, the way your eyes shine, when you grab onto my arm or my hand--” 

“Bucky...” you breathe. 

“Don’t lie to me. Don’t run away,” he jerks you by your wrists as you try to untangle them. “I waited over a century to find the perfect girl, Dreamy. It’s you--” 

“You’re hurting me,” you step into the pie as you struggle with him. “Please, let me go--” 

“No, I can’t,” he growls, “I won’t let you go, Dreamy.” 

He yanks you towards the car and you squeal, “stop! Please! What are you doing?” 

“What’s good for you,” he drags you around to the trunk, his hand still on one of your wrists as he releases the other to open the lid. “I can’t let you walk home and I’m not going to let you get away from me. I’m running outta time, doll.” 

“No, no,” you gnash your teeth as you kick with your legs. He swings you around easily and flips you over the edge of the trunk. He rolls you inside as you flail and he snaps the lid shut. 

The car dips at the back as he leans on the outside, “I’m sorry it has to be this way, Dreamy. You just don’t know what’s good for you. It’s why you need me around.”  

He taps on the outside then his steps crunch through the gravel. You whine and wail, hitting the trunk with your feet and hands. The front door opens and shuts and the engine hums back to life. You roll against the back as he reverses and twists the car around. 

“Buckyyyyy!” You screech. 

You don’t know if can hear you or not. You don’t think it matters. You can hardly think as disbelief muddles with your fear. How can he do this? You could never expect this. He’s Bucky, he’s a hero, he’s your friend. So why are you in the trunk of his car? 

[eetherealgoddess]

Hihi

Could you do a fic where reader is like a driver 4 bonten and something comes up so she has to like pick (u cld do all or chose one it doesn't matter) them up then some smut, noncon and fem reader.

Thx in advance if you'll write this, I've been searching for a writer that does noncon🥲

Hope you enjoy this! Also hope you don’t mind about a little mxm between the men in it! Also dark ending!!

Also I’m thinking of making an au where the guys are poly with each other and the reader is added to it or walks in on it or something idk yet but lmk in the comments or requests what you think about that.

ꨄBonten’s Propertyꨄ

Part Two

Oneshot - Yandere Bonten Au

❦You pick up your boss and fellow executives from the club❦

Sano Manjiro, Hanemiya Kazutora, Sanzu Haruchiyo, & Haitani Brothers x Reader

Not fully proofread

MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR, AO3, AND WATTPAD UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!

I apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.

Notice:

✩Y/n is 18+. I picture her as a black female but you can see her however.

✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.

✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.

✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.

✩There may be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable

✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

Enjoy!

Bonten’s Property

“Why do I have to pick them up from the club?” You whine, giving Kokonoi a disturbed look as you stare at his sitting figure, focusing on the laptop in front of him.

“You were specifically requested tonight.” He continues to type as you roll your eyes.

“Yeah, but not by our boss. All the guys are gonna do is terrorize me while I’m trying to drive.” You cross your arms as you rest on one leg, hip poking out as you shake your head.

“Boss is with them currently so I assume he relayed the message.” You groan. “You better get going so you don’t anger him.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know Koko.” You finally walk away, snatching the keys as you make your way out of the shared penthouse, heading to the car and unlocking the door before hopping in.

You’re not usually one to pick up the men from the club considering how wild they get, usually only Kakucho or Takeomi could handle the ride, though when you do, you’re usually efficient. Even when Sanzu messes with the wheel or Kazutora tickles your neck to distract you. Even when Ran blows smoke in your face or when Rin pours alcohol on you. Mikey’s not with them usually, so you have no idea how that’s going to be, hopefully he stays a little professional considering you’ve never seen him drunk or high.

Worse comes to worse you can use the partition to divide the front seats from the back which is what you’ve done before. Still, who wants to drive a bunch of drunk or high idiots around? Hopefully they’re not too rowdy, they’ve never been bad enough to prevent you from driving all of you home at a good time. You sigh as you pull up in front of the large club, nodding at the security guard to signal your arrival for Bonten. He nods back before walking into the doors.

You scroll on your phone, waiting for what felt like an hour before you heard the car’s doors opening. Laughter and slurred speech could be heard as the men entered the car, your body tensing into professionalism when you see your boss through the rearview mirror enter, tightening your grip on the wheel. Sanzu sits in the passenger seat with a pink face, eyeing you before smirking. You ignore him as you double check that everyone is situated before driving off.

You ignore their conversations, Kazutora, Sanzu, and the Haitani brothers conversing about the women, drugs, and alcohol all the while Mikey eyes the window a dazed look on his expression as well as a warm face. One of your eyebrows raise as you find humor in your boss's look, unknown to whether he was high or drunk though definitely not sober. You continue the drive peacefully in your own zone as you eye the dark road.

“Y/n, why didn’t you come to party?” Kazutora questions with a smile.

“I don’t ‘party’ like you guys.”

“I think we should’ve hired you as a stripper rather than an executive.” Ran says, his eyes slightly narrowing as he smirks in your direction.

“Yeah, I would’ve paid to see you on stage any day.” Rin adds as he eyes your expression from the side.

Of course, you made a mistake in thinking that they might not fuck with you during this ride considering their boss is here. You ignore their remarks as you continue to drive. Your grip clenches around the wheel once more when you feel a poke against your side.

“Heyy! You’re being spoken to.” Sanzu says as he glares at you.

“Yeah don’t ignore us!” Kazutora whines playfully, poking you until you flinch, using one of your hands to swatt him away. You grit your teeth as you feel a cold liquid running down your thigh, glancing over to see Rin pouring his bottle once more as he chuckles and Ran smiles wider, finding humor in torturing you.

“Goddamnit!” You hiss as you snatch the open bottle and throw it out of the window.

“Awe you’re no fun.” Rin frowns, leaning back into his seat with crossed arms. Ran passes the recently lit blunt you hadn’t even noticed to Sanzu who breathed in a huge wad of smoke just to blow it in your face, slightly blocking your vision as you wave it away.

You continue to ignore them considering what they want is a response, so you drive down the road. You don’t notice the way your boss eyes the situation with amusement as well as staring at you through the mirror, warmth from the drug Sanzu gave him invading all of his senses as his face turns darker, heavy eyes shifting around the car.

“Want some, boss?” Kazutora questions Mikey, handing him the blunt as he takes it from him, breathing in a huge hit before blowing it out slowly. They all praise their boss as he relaxes in his seat. You slightly chuckle before focusing your attention back on the road. You just couldn’t help but find humor in your boss’s laid back behavior for once.

“Here.” He leans over to hand it to you, though you only glance at the flower.

“Oh boss, you can keep it, I don’t smoke.” Honestly, you’re lying because you like smoking. You just don’t want to be high around them or behind the wheel.

“Take it.”

“I can’t smoke behind the wheel.” You say sheepishly.

“Pull over.” Your eyes widen. What the hell?

“B-boss, that’s not necessary.”

“Are you defying the King?” Sanzu growls, narrowing his eyes.

“What? N-no, I just…”

“Then why aren’t you listening?” Kazutora questions.

“Boss clearly gave you an order.” Rin says as his brother eyes you.

All of this over a fucking blunt? What's gotten into them?

“Boss, I’m not disrespecting you, I just thought you wanted to get home! I can smoke in the penthouse if anything.”

“Pull over, now.” You didn’t hesitate to find an empty spot to pull over in, parking the car once you reached it with a shaky hand.

This is so weird.

You take the blunt from Mikey’s hand and put it to your lips, inhaling a little before blowing out.

“More.” You look at your boss from the rearview mirror with confusion.

“I still have to drive, I don’t think I should smoke…”

The barrel of a gun to your head causes you to quiet down, eyeing Sanzu who’s holding the weapon.

“What was that?” Ran teases. “Could you repeat what you just said?”

You glare at them before setting it back to your lips, inhaling deeply before you blow out a huge cloud of smoke, tears forming in your eyes as the burning sensation overtakes your throat.

I don’t understand why they’re making such a big deal out of this.

“Since you can’t drive you should sit in the back seat.” Kazutora says with a fake concerned expression.

“I was ordered to be the driver so I’ll be okay. None of you can drive, anyway.”

“No, it’s alright. Come here.” Following your boss’s order, you reluctantly open the door, hopping out of the driver's seat before opening the back door, blunt still in hand.

You couldn’t help but feel embarrassment as you climb in, feeling the intense gazes as you settle into your seat squished in between Mikey and Kazutora who don’t bother to move over, the Haitani brothers having already shifted to the empty seats across from you as well as Sanzu who sits beside the siblings, gun hidden. You squirm awkwardly into your seat as you inhale the leaf once more. Holding the smoke in as a hand on your chin forces you to turn to your right.

“Blow into my mouth.” You try to move your head from Kazutora’s hand, the burning sensation catching up to you, forcing you to blow in his direction, his mouth slightly open as he sucks in the air, his lips barely grazing yours.

This is definitely too intimate. What drugs did they take because marijuana doesn’t do this.

The air feels suffocating as warmth builds, gazes becoming heated as your eyebrows furrow. Suddenly, the hand on your chin moves to the back of your head as your lips are forced to meet with Kazutora’s. Your eyes widen as your hands immediately push against his chest, his hold stronger as he keeps you in place, golden eyes staring into your orbs. Biting his lip only caused a moan from him as he leaned into you, the metallic taste mixing in with mary jane and alcohol.

When he finally releases you, because you were still shoving away from him, you accidentally land on your boss’s chest. Immediate fear causes you to sit up, though you were stopped by arms wrapping around your waist, your head resting against his shoulder, positioned in between the leg that's propped on the seat and the other one on the ground as he leans against the door. Kazutora grabs the blunt from you as he takes a hit from it.

“B-boss?” You question as his hands slowly roam up your blouse, your face heated as the warmth of his hands rests on your breasts that are covered by your bra. “W-wait! Mi- boss! Stop!”

“Are you telling me what to do?” His breath causes tingles down your neck as his lips meet your ear.

“Two times in a row, not a good look for you, Y/n.” Ran says, ignoring his erection under his pants.

“Wait, I just need some air or something! I need to be okay to drive!” Your chest rises and falls as Mikey squeezes your breasts, your hands grabbing his wrists to pull them off though his strength is firm, even when intoxicated.

“You’re not being a very good executive, Y/n. So disobedient.” Rin taunts before he grabs one of your ankles, removing your shoe as well as Kazutora doing the same with your other after handing Ran the wood. You attempt to pull your legs back, forgetting how you are the weakest amongst these men. Sanzu moves to the floor board next to the upper half of your body as Ran moves to the lower, unbuckling your pants as you struggle against Mikey’s hold, blunt in his lips.

“Y-yeah I’m telling all of you to stop! This isn’t profession-!” You’re cut off by Sanzu’s lips, his hand cupping your face as Mikey’s tongue slithers against your ear. Saliva falls down your chin as your hand reaches to push against Sanzu’s chest while the Haitani brothers and Kazutora pull down your pants, revealing your panties. Your eyes become wider as you start kicking your legs, whimpering against Sanzu’s mouth as you try to break free only for Kazutora and Rin to hold your legs apart as Ran uses a finger to trail down your slit through the fabric before he hands the leaf to his brother.

One of Sanzu’s hands pulls your blouse over your chest before he moves back to pull it off, Mikey helping in the process as he holds your arms still.

“Guys! You’re too intoxicated! St-stop, now!”

Rin’s lips trail down your leg, rubbing your thigh in the process while the blunt lies in between his index and middle finger. Kazutora mimics, though removing your sock before he licks your foot, a tingling sensation going up your spine.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long.” Mikey whispers against your ear, unclipping your bra before he forces it off of you, of course you make it harder by preventing the handles from being removed from your arms. He tears them, throwing your bra to the side as one of his arms circle around your waist while the other hand reaches your nipple. Sanzu grabs the other mound in his hand before he lowers his head, eyeing you through heavy lids, his lips circling around your nub as you frantically try to move.

Ran lowers his head as he uses a finger to move your panties to the side.

“As pretty as I’d thought it’d be.” He says before he uses both hands to pull them down, Rin grabs them as he throws them to the side before handing Sanzu the blunt. Ran analyzes your pussy with a sly smile, using a finger to gather the slight slick that’s formed before sucking his finger and releasing a quiet moan.

“Stop touching me!” You exclaim, everything becoming overwhelming as your boss and coworkers roam your body, Sanzu pulling your nipple as he takes another hit.

“Relax.” He says before placing it against your lips. You move your head away before he roughly grabs your chin and forces you to face him.

“Smoke it.” He demands. You blatantly shake your head.

“No! No more of that or any of this!” You hiss as you move up once more, only for you to let out a high pitched scream of pain once Sanzu places the burning wood against your arm. Tears fall from the pain as your face becomes hot. Your other hand grips the arm that was just burnt. You shakily wipe away the residue ash left on your skin.

“Say that again.” He says before placing the blunt against your mouth. You inhale before holding it in and blowing out once more. He wipes the sweat off your forehead as he keeps it against your mouth, you having to inhale more before breathing the smoke out again, mellowing out although your heart continues to race.

Your body jolts as you feel a wet muscle slithering against your clit. Ran’s tongue flicks your nub before his lips close around, sucking as he slightly bobs his head. Kazutora sucks his fingers before sliding his hand down, bending over as he uses two fingers to ease into your wet pussy. Your hole clenches around his fingers as your hips twitch, biting your lip as you hold back from releasing any sound as your eyes shut tightly.

Suddenly, hands grab your hips as you're pushed up, legs hovering over your head as your body is bent. The wetness moves to your ass as his tongue glides against your anus.

“Hah! Not there! Stop it, please!” Tears fall in humiliation as he eats you out, Rin positioning himself to eat your pussy as Kazutora angles his fingers, gliding in and out slowly as he holds pressure to your g-spot before pulling out again, watching your pussy contract intensely. A tongue runs along your clit repeatedly flicking the nub before he sucks it. Sanzu and Mikey hold up your legs as they kiss and lick your neck before leaving hickeys and pinching the skin between their teeth, Mikey handing Sanzu the roach before he throws it out of the cracked window, returning his hand to your nipple.

As Kazutora accelerates his fingers, your hips slightly meet his hand as the brothers eat you out, your eyes rolling into the back of your head with your mouth slightly ajar, head falling back on Mikey’s shoulder.

“Ran.”

“Yes boss?”

“Pull out my cock.” He complies, pulling Mikey’s sweats down as well as his underwear, revealing his hard girth. You tense once you feel his head against your ass.

“W-wait, Mikey there’s no lube. Please don’t!”

“My King, I can help.” He says with a dazed look.

Mikey eyes him for a second before he nods his head, Sanzu and Ran switching placements as Ran settles next to her upper body and Sanzu moves to Mikey’s throbbing cock. A groan leaves Mikey’s lips, brushing against your ear as Sanzu lowers his head, lips circling around Mikey’s tip before shoving his cock deep within his throat.

You feel your boss’s hips jerk as his head falls back against the car’s window. Another moan leaves his mouth as you hear the mixture of saliva and precum combining as Sanzu pulls his head back and forth steadily, making sure to wet his king’s cock to the fullest.

“Knew he’d be eager to suck Mikey’s cock.” Rin whispers against your pussy as Kazutora and Ran chuckle at his statement. Sanzu pulls his head back and uses his hand to angle Mikey’s cock against your anus. Your body is forced to drop on his thick cock, tears escaping as the pain shoots up your back.

“Fuck!” You cry out, “Take it out! Take it out, you fucking assholes!” Kazutora removes his fingers as Rin pulls back, sitting in their seats as they pull out their own hard cocks, using spit to rub themselves off. Once Mikey’s cock was stuffed all the way into your ass, he held it there as he basked in your warmth. Sanzu hovers over you as he uses his own spit to wet himself. You jolt when his head meets your pussy lips.

Your hands grip Sanzu’s shoulders as he eases into your pussy, fortunately the juice that was already there makes it less painful, though your hole clenched around his girth as you're full from both sides.

“Relax your muscles.” Ran whispers in your ear as his own hand wraps around his cock, while the other caresses your head.

“I can’t! It hurts!” You exclaim as your eyes shut tightly. Your head falls back once more, Ran leaving a kiss along your jaw.

“Yes you can. Just breathe.” You had no choice but to comply as you tried to get through the pain, breathing heavily as Sanzu and Mikey began to move slowly. A drawn out moan escapes Sanzu as the pressure from Mikey’s cock could be felt through your walls, causing extra friction.

Time passed and their hips began to accelerate, the car filling with five men’s moans as all of them thrust their hips, pulsating cocks engulfed in warmth. Sanzu’s cock, angled to hit your g-spot, causes an intense pleasure that contrasts with the lingering pain from Mikey’s cock stretching your ass. The agony numbing out as you begin to fill a pleasurable fullness as your body rocks up and down, nails piercing through Sanzu’s fabric. You grunt as your ass clenches around Mikey’s cock, barely holding back a moan as the friction causes you to near your orgasm.

“Tell me how good it feels.” Mikey hissed against your ear, hand reaching around your throat as he slams his hips against your ass, speeding up.

“It doesn’t!” You cry out. “I-it feels terrible! Get out of me!” A loud moan accidentally leaves your mouth when Sanzu’s pace becomes faster, ambushing your g-spot repeatedly. A sharp pinch against your nipple causes you to yelp.

“Lie again.” Mikey growls, “Tell me the truth or I’ll blow your brains out as soon as I cum.”

“Fuck, this is so hot.” Kazutora hissed as his head falls back, rubbing his cock violently as his erection pulsates in his grip. Rin bites his own lip as he thrusts his hand, rubbing a thumb over his slit as he watches the display.

“Come on, angel. Be good for us, yeah?” Ran breathlessly says as he brings himself closer, hand gripping your head as he ruts against his other hand.

Your body convulses, warmth overcoming your abdomen as your hips grind hard against the two cocks, head back as your mouth hangs open with a silent scream.

“F-fuck! I’m… ah! Cumming!”

“Shit!” Rin hissed as his hand moves faster, your voice turning all of them on as they continue to work for their own orgasm.

You cry out from Mikey and Sanzu continuing their assault, thrusts becoming sloppier as they cause you to overstimulate, your hips frantically grinding back as the feeling becomes all too overwhelming, nose scrunching as your nails scratch Sanzu.

“Say it now! Tell us how good it feels to be full of our cocks! Right now, Y/n!” Sanzu growls, pink hue covering his face as he gazes into your eyes with a lustful, crazed glare.

“Feels good! S’ fucking good, hah! I’m gonna… I’m gonna cum again!”

In reality, post nut clarity will definitely come soon considering how violated you truly feel, though the feeling of being so full and your g-spot being abused causes your body to react, pussy contracting as you’re brought to your second orgasm, the men following along right after as they all release their loads.

You feel Sanzu and Mikey’s cum shoot deeply inside of you, so much coming out as some of the liquid spills out of your ass and pussy.

“Y-you all violated me.” You growl in anger as tears spill from your eyes, cocks pulling out of you causing you to grunt from the residue pain.

“You liked it.” Kazutora frowns as your vision becomes blurry.

“You should rest. Sounds like the weed is getting to your head.” Rin snorts.

Before you could prevent it, your eyes fluttered shut, darkness engulfing you into a deep sleep.

The next day, the men sat in the meeting room, awaiting your arrival. When you didn’t show up, Kakucho went to check your room, only to find you balled up in the blankets on your bed, hiding your whole body.

“Y/n?”

When you didn’t answer, he walked out of the room back towards the meeting to relay the message. The meeting continued without you. When it was over, Kazutora visited your room.

“Y/n? Why are you acting like this?” He says as he sits on the bed next to your figure. His eyebrow raises when his hand reaches your form, squeezing it before he stands up and snatches the blankets back, revealing an empty space.

“Shit!” He hissed in anger.

Two years pass and you just got out of your therapy appointment, walking to your car before you hopped in and drove to your apartment. You knew that the only way you could leave Bonten was by death or running away. So you decided to make a new life for yourself in a different country, far away from Japan.

You knew the job was toxic anyway but you didn’t know that you’d be violated sexually. You’re in a better head space, though you do have moments where you can feel the hands all over you, not scrubbing your body hard enough as your skin raws. Your new boyfriend, along with your friends and therapist have helped you grow positively as you slowly let your past go.

Entering your apartment, you expect to see your boyfriend in the living room on video games, not his limbs detached from his torso, or head decapitated as it’s rolled in between someone’s feet. Nor did you expect to see blood all over your carpet as well as the frames and paintings broken, thrown off the walls, glass shards everywhere. Your trembling hand covers your mouth as you eye the five men you never wanted to see again, staring at you with cold stoic expressions, worse than any angry look you could’ve ever received.

Hyperventilating, you turn on your heel to run back out your front door, only to run into Takeomi’s chest.

“No, no, no! Let me out, Takeomi! You don’t know what they did to me!” Your fists hit his back as he swings you over his shoulder.

“Oh I know. Now they’re pussy whipped and can’t get over you. Not even boss. You’re lucky you’re not gonna be killed, but there’s no way we’re letting you out of our sight again. Consider yourself, Bonten’s property.” He says as he walks to the car.

You continue struggling in his grip as tears leave from your eyes, crying out in anger and devastation over your boyfriend’s gruesome death. The life you created for yourself being torn from your grasp as another thing important is snatched away. You mourn your lost freedom as well as what’s to come.